#gargoyle!nikolai

[dutiful-wildcraft]

Restoration Worship

Nikolai x Fat F! Reader Tags: monsterfucking, gargoyles, dubcon, overstimulation, tail sex, anal play, double penetration, squirting, cunnilingus, p in v, dirty talk.  I think thats about it, I think yall should know by now that every reader I write is fat, blacked out and wrote 3K words of gargoyle smut sooo… enjoy!

It had begun as a research effort, a little trip to the cemetery to hopefully procure some interesting insight into a little project she’d been working on for the museum. Eyes scanning over lichen covered graves and cracked mausoleums, words long faded in time. 

She’d seen the videos before. Kind strangers brushing away years of decay with a brush and patience. Who would we be without the knowledge from our predecessors after all? 

So with a passion for restoration and a need for busy hands she set to work, uncovering gracious prayers and one of the best cookie recipes she’d ever tasted set within the worn stone. 

It’s months before she comes across him. He’s a big boy, covered in lichen and the webs of spiders, stone stained heavily from the elements. Sharp claws curl into the pedestal he hunkers on, broad wings curled against his back, stone teeth bared in warning. 

Even like this he’s beautiful, strong features carved delicately in tarnished marble. 

She’d found her next project. 

A decade had passed since death had been at Nikolai’s doorstep, when he’d let the stone take him, closed himself off from the world to rest after an egregious injury. He’d watched over the lowly cemetery with weak eyes, until they too became covered. Until he’d lost himself to the void, consciousness falling into inky blackness as he waited amongst the trees. 

That is, until her.

His days had shifted from the chittering of squirrels and bird song to an incessant chatter. A soft english lilt that stirred something in his hazy mind. He likes the english. Past visions of old friends flash in his mind, warm dark skin, cigars, a mask made of bone. 

How could he forget? 

He strains, willing his senses back to life, listens harder for the soft voice amongst the tombstones. 

She talks to the dead, chattering away at graves that will never speak back to her. This graveyard is old, quiet, its occupants long passed over after they stopped burying the dead here, when their loved ones had long passed on themselves. 

She asks them questions, makes up stories, tells them about her day. She’s a museum conservator and she brings things back to life all the time. Making them shiny and new, loving them through hard work and careful hands so that others may get to love them too. 

And when she’s not talking she’s humming, or singing so off tune that even the birds grumble. But she’s laughing at herself,  looking up songs from the years written on the graves and playing those too, a little tune the deceased might be familiar with. 

Her voice bounces from grave to grave, and he realizes she’s cleaning them, scrubbing the dirt away and bidding them adieu when her task is finished. 

Sweet thing, he muses, wishing he could see her, wishing she would bring him to life too.

His dream comes true on a sunny afternoon, the summer rays warming his stone, waking him just a little more. 

She’s close, footsteps rustling the leaves at his feet as she circles him. 

“You keep watch don’t you?” she asks him seriously, and she’s right there. So close he can smell her, like blueberries and vanilla sugar, it’d make his mouth water if he could just move.

She speaks again, but he can barely register the words as warm gentle hands clear the infinite dark from his field of view. Brushing away vines and lichen.

“There! That’s better!” 

And there she is. A big soft girl, with sweet round cheeks flushed from the heat. He needs to hold her, crush her close and reward her for her kindness, but she’s gone just as quickly, promising to return to clean him properly, and his marble heart warms at the thought. He commits her form to memory, watching her soft braids sway against her back as she leaves.  

A longing seeping deep into his marrow as he lets the sleep take him again. 

She returns the following weekend, small spray rig and gentle cleaner in hand when she finds him again. She’s mindful, soft hands gently tugging at his limbs to test the durability before ambling her soft body onto his platform. It’s wonderful, to finally feel the heat of another against his skin, and he thinks if the sun weren’t touching him he could come to life now, tackle her into the soft grass and ravish her. He knows she’d be so sweet, whimpering and mewling under his touch. 

It would wait for another time. 

She works from the top down, soaking him with warm water before scrubbing him with soft bristle brushes. She’s delicate, leaning her soft body against his as she cleans, washing away years of dirt and moss. She scrubs behind his ears, in the bend of his horns, clearing the nests of insects from between his teeth. He revels in the feel of her, soft breasts and belly pressed to his skin, gentle hands stroking over the sensitive margins of his wings. Had he been mobile he’d be purring, with spread wings and stiff cock all over some gentle petting. 

He mourns when she leaves, water cooling against his stone as she packs up before nightfall. 

But it gives him time to practice.

It takes days, weeks, before he can move under the cover of night, limbs coming to life sluggishly, the world becoming more clear to his dulled senses. 

She returns like clockwork, spending the afternoons with him, chatting and humming, leaning against his platform as she eats her lunch. 

He can’t move far, just a few movements, but he gets greedy, finally willing his wings to open, letting them stretch pleasantly in the cool night air and freeze there when the sun freezes him again. 

She’s a bit startled when she returns, eyeing him with confusion and the broad reptilian wings spread proudly behind his back. Come closer love, they’ve always been this way.

Nevertheless she scrubs those too, warm hands petting over the webbing, ghost along the modified fingers of his wings. He has half a mind to wallow in the night, cover himself in more dirt if only to keep her trips regular. But he knows his time is coming to an end when she dusts away the last leaves from his pedestal. 

She has a final rest with him, his sweet keeper perched at his feet as she watches the sun disappear behind the trees. 

And finally, finally. As the soft light of the moon kisses his skin, he greets her. 

“Hello solnyshka” he purrs, voice low and gravely,  amusement crinkling pupil-less eyes, as he watches her nearly jump out of her skin. Scrambling away and whirling to take a look at the massive gargoyle.  He can see now, really see, and she’s lovely. Freckles dusting round cheeks, bulky denim and cotton hiding big soft curves underneath. 

She’s frozen, staring at him with wide eyes. He stretches, not unlike a cat, trembling slightly with the effort as he spreads his wings, lifts his hands above his head to crack his own spine, shaking away the stiffness from his tired bones. He relaxes again,  smiling at her fondly, revealing sharp fangs underneath. 

“I’m grateful for your work.” he calls again, taking a slow step off of his platform, clawed feet digging into the earth below. He is truly, his new keeper being the first ray of sun to truly grace his skin in decades. Just the light he needed to wake him from his slumber.  He needs to hold her, feel her softness under his claws. 

She swallows, clasping trembling hands in front of her. 

“I didn’t mean to be a bother, sir”

Sir.

He purrs at the honorific, but why did she think she was a bother? Had she not heard him?

“Not a bother, you’ve “restored” me” he chuckles, “quite well too” he adds looking over his limbs as he eases closer. “Call me Kolya.”

She repeats it, mimicking the accent just right, and being the polite thing she is, she gives him her name in return. It melts in his mouth like sugar, His pretty prize unaware of the hold she’s given him with just her name alone. 

“Come here, let me have a look at you”

She hesitates a moment before inching towards him, and he meets her halfway with a long stride, chin to his chest as he looks her up and down. His poor thing is so nervous. Fidgeting under his gaze, pulling, pushing and twisting at the joints of her fingers, desperate to get them to pop, to alleviate some of the tension in her body. 

He takes her hand in his, sliding a claw between her fingers to shake them loose, letting her soft little hand curl around his own. He dwarfs her, already half-hard with just her palm in his. He moves her carefully, flipping her hand over to trace a dark claw over the sensitive lines of her palm drawing a small shiver from her that has his cock twitching in interest. 

He continues, gliding his fingers up her arm, over her shoulder, toying briefly with the denim strap of her overalls. She’s bashful, keeping her eyes averted, a hot flush to her cheeks as he looks her over. 

“None of that” he chides, sliding his fingers beneath her chin, tilting her back. Her lips part, pupils blown as he smiles down at her, some of her nervousness melting away as he handles her so gently.  “So pretty, daragaya” and the stars in her eyes as he praises her break what little self control he has left. 

He’s quick, catching her round face in both hands and bending low, pressing a hungry kiss to her lips. She squirms briefly, hands flying up to grip his wrists in panic, he curls a tail around her calf, holding her neatly in place as he licks into her mouth, earning a soft gasp from his keeper as her lips part for him. 

Good gods, she even tastes sweet. 

He purrs happily into her mouth, savoring the taste of her flavored chapstick, the end of his tail flickering happily, brushing the soft curve of her ass. She’s panting now, a soft little whine bubbling from her throat at the contact. He dives low, licking a stripe across her jaw, reveling in the salt of her skin before nibbling and kissing his way down her throat, clawed fingers easily popping the cheap metal clasps of her outfit, pushing the denim away before yanking off the extra cotton shirt underneath. 

Nikolai thinks it should be forbidden for such soft curves to be hidden like that. She’s a vision, an angel with the most beautiful soft curves, and when he has her back in his den he’ll dress her in the finest silks and jewelry, pretty chains to hug her waist, dangle nicely between her breasts. Highlight all his favorite parts. He might even keep her bare, just for his eyes to see. 

She shivers in the cold, using her arms to cover her breasts as best as she could, eyes averted from his hungry gaze.  Why did she hide from him? There should be paintings of her, statues in her image. She was perfect. So warm and soft, he kneaded at the handles at her hips, clawed fingers tracing over the soft swell of her belly, the rolls at her sides, skin hot beneath his fingers. He huffs, snagging her wrists and holding them well above her head, using the extra digits at the ends of his wings to hold her there, pulled taught and vulnerable beneath his gaze.

With a sharp claw he rips away the scrap of fabric that covered her chest, large hands palming them eagerly, nipples pebbling under the warm drag of his thumbs. He hums, pinching and pulling at her perfect little tits, hard cock nudging incessantly at her belly, leaving glistening webs of pre-cum over her skin as she whimpers and gasps. 

“Kolya” she whines as he drags a hot tongue over her soft peaks, flicking his tongue over her pert skin before drawing a nipple into his mouth, nibbling and suckleing greedily. He breaks away, grinning up at her, sinking his teeth into the meat of her breast cheekily. She squirms, eyes squeezed tight and teeth dug into her plump lip as she tries halfheartedly to escape him. Though the wiggling only gives her tits a lovely jiggle that has him diving in again, nipping at her nipple just to earn himself another squeal. 

He kisses over the skin in a gentle apology before sliding down her belly, pressing a trail of hot kisses there before he reaches the seam of her panties, cute little curls peaking out around the edges at her thighs. He marvels at the dark stain of her arousal, pressing his nose into the soaked fabric and breathing deep. She bucks against his face, squirming madly to get some kind friction. Not so demure now are you?

“I’ll take care of you greedy girl, patience.” he warns, tail patting her ass fondly as he drags his tongue along the sodden fabric. He rips those away too, thick tongue sliding against her folds with little preamble, the resounding moan like music to his ears. Using his tail to tug her legs further apart, he lavishes her in earnest, slurping at her cunt like a beast, using his thumbs to spready her puffy lips apart. She’s heaven, sweet and tangy on his tongue, and he would stay here for hours, drinking her down until her legs gave out and then taking more. 

He sinks his tongue inside, licking into her tight heat as his nose brushes against her clit, humming wickedly as she cries and bucks. He takes control, dragging his claws up to grip her hips, guiding her into a nice and easy rhythm against his face. He loves every minute of it, reveling in the drag of her soaked folds against his tongue,  the broken whines as he breaks away to suck her clit. He drags her to the edge over and over, fucking his tongue back into her wet heat and nosing at her sensitive nerves until she’s gushing against his face with a choked cry. 

“So good, solnyshka” he praises, sitting back on his haunches to admire his work. He leans in, licking a hot stripe up her thigh, catching the errant rivulets of slick as they drip from her. 

“So wet, I bet we can make a bigger mess can’t we?” he purrs, dragging his knuckles against the soaked seam of her sex, drawing a tired whimper from her. She sags against his hold, chest flushed, and thighs soaked. He could devour her whole like this. 

He releases her, lifting her spent body into his arms, easing her down onto the clean pedestal that was once his. Pushing her legs apart he slides between them, sliding his neglected cock over her folds, using his tip to rub at her sensitive clit before sliding it along her body. He’s thick, head tapered to a near point, thick ridges rippling along underside of his shaft for a textured drag. Heavy balls kiss the seam of her sex as he rests there, tip drooling against her stomach. He needs her to see what she’s getting herself into, how much she’ll need to take for him. His soft girl looks up at him, big glassy eyes full of nervous anticipation. 

“I know” he coos, grinding himself against her skin, “you can take it, my perfect girl, we just need a little more room.”

He needs her pliant, well stretched to take him fully. With his claws as they were, using his fingers wasn’t an option,  but he does have another solution. Dragging a heavy palm through her slick he grabs hold of his tail, coating the tapered end thoroughly before guiding it toward her entrance, using a thumb to circle her clit as he slips inside. 

The tip is easy, no thicker than a couple of her fingers as it pushes its way inside, the glide nice and easy from her previous orgasm. He fucks nice and slow, thrusting the tip in shallowly until she’s whining for more. He leans over her, rutting his cock against the crease of her thigh as he sinks his tail in further, fucks into her with more speed, using his hands wisely to play with her tits, rolling her nipples between his fingers and nibbling at her lips to distract her from the stretch. She’s holding on for dear life, hands gripping his horns for purchase. 

Even as spent as she is, she clenches around him desperately, sweet pussy desperate to take as much of him as she can. He can’t wait to feel her pulsing against his cock. Wet and hot, and so so tight. 

He growls, rutting into her with more fervor. She’s close, chubby thighs clenching as he curls the tip of his tail a bit, just to bully more of his length inside of her. She’s lost in it, frantically kissing at his face as her peak draws closer and closer.  Sneaking a thumb against her clit she cums again, legs slamming shut against his tail as he fucks her through it, laughing as she sobs, shoving at him weakly as she gushes messily around him again, slick coating his abdomen and dribbling down the stone underneath. 

“Good girl, one more for me zoloste, I know you can do it.” He yanks her thighs apart pulling his tail from her greedy cunt and dragging her further down the pedestal, her plush ass hanging off the edge. He rests her thighs against his chest, kissing her ankle soothingly as he drags himself through her slick folds, thoroughly coating himself before lining up with her entrance. 

Even with the prep it’s a tight squeeze. He takes it slow, bullying his way inside her soaked heat, gummy walls squeezing him tight as he sinks in, whimpering as the ridges of his cock drag against her sore entrance.  He fucks slowly, pumping in shallow thrusts before he pulls out again, teasing her tired clit and pushing in again, head thrown back with victorious groan as he finally pushes himself to the hilt. 

Its a gorgeous sight, her pussy split open on the girth of him, legs spread wide and clit twitching as he fucks her with tight shallow circles. She’s a mess, cheeks streaked with tears and trembling against the stone, whimpers and little hiccups falling from her lips. He hushes her, sliding his palms against her thighs, catching her hands to curl his fingers in hers, anchoring her there as he picks up the pace. 

She’s already close, cunt clenching around him with every thrust. He fucks into her with earnest, her pretty fat pussy swallowing him down to the balls as the sticky slap of it echoes through the cemetery. 

“Fuck, taking me like you were made for it.”  he snarls bending over her to lick into her mouth, swallowing every little cry and plea as he fucks her mercilessly, soft body jiggling with the harshness of it. 

“You’ll give me anything won’t you? Let me fill up this pretty pussy.” he pants, yanking her closer, and with a sick knowing grin, his tail slides underneath her, slick tip toying with her asshole. “Let me fill this pretty ass too, wouldn’t you?”

“Anything you want, Kolya, please, please,”  she begs, his perfect girl cock drunk and hazy, tears spilling down her cheeks as she rocks into him for more. 

“Don’t even know what's good for you, silly girl, you’d let me tear you in two.” he chuckles, “ but I’ll give you a little taste.” His tip slides between her cheeks, already slick from her own juices.  He teases her there, flickering playfully at her hole before sinking in slowly, pushing just past her tight ring of muscle to fill her up, groaning at the feel of his own cock sliding against her walls. 

Her next orgasm takes her like a freight train, soft body arching and trembling as it ravages through her. He fucks her through it, pussy clenching him like a vice as he pulls his tail from her ass, sharp claws digging into the meat of her hips hard enough to draw blood as he chases his own end. 

Snarling like a beast he pounds into her, sinking himself deep as he comes with a low growl, painting her insides with long spurts. Filling her completely until his spend seeps out around his cock, spilling down her thighs and into the soft earth below. 

He holds them there like that, cock buried deep as he marks her from the inside out, his bulky head resting against her breasts as they both come down. 

His, his, his. 

His perfect soft girl, flushed and damp from sweat and slick, trembling hands carding though his dark hair.  Kind and gentle despite the way he ravaged her. 

And when she leans up, pressing a sweet kiss to his lips with a nervous giggle, he knows he’ll guard her for the rest of his days. 

[applecidersstuff]

Please tell me that Im not the only one who, during the parts where Alina describes beast Nikolai, pictures him like this

With maybe a little less fur and looking more humanish

[darkhearthorns]

Maverick never trusted others, nor expected anyone else to do the same. But it was the same dark and twisted fae that got to his knees and begged Gemina for another chance, for the opportunity to prove that he will win her trust. He took a deep breath, his eyes searching hers. He had never had to go through a test before, and each time he told her the truth instead of instinctively hiding it, he felt he was getting closer to proving that he could be trustworthy.

"You know, I understand your desire to know more, to connect with someone who may have answers. You're right; your presence here, as a vampire, established a sort of connection that even I could never achieve. I saw the way you boldly conversed with the councilman- you have him shaken up for sure, even though it is a risk, no doubt. You should also know Gemina- I trust your judgment and your ability to discern the intentions of others."

Maverick gently cupped her face with his free hand, his thumb caressing her cheek. "If you truly wish to meet the vampire prince and believe it could shed light on the situation, then I will support you. I also must take precautions. We will plan and choreograph the meeting carefully, ensuring that I am close by, ready to intervene if anything goes awry. Just tell me- when you want to do it."

When it came time, Maverick chose a secluded chamber and told the attendants to bring Nikolai there. Tall, arched windows adorned with intricate stained glass bathed the room in soft, filtered light, casting vibrant hues across the polished stone floor. Ornate tapestries depicting chimeras and grand valleys adorned the walls, adding a touch of majestic beauty. Shelves lined the walls, displaying a collection of rare books, a testament to the castle's rich history.

And just outside the chamber, Maverick told Gemina that she could enter, for Nikolai was already in there. He stood outside and out of sight, and still as a gargoyle statue.

@merchantofwhispers

There was that look in his eye again. The same one that meant that playtime was over and whatever followed after was to be taken seriously. She nodded in understanding of what he was saying, but could not deny her curiosity. "A vampire prince?" She questioned softly. "Like those ones from the story books? I-.. I thought-.."

Her brows stitched together before she visibly shook away whatever was happening in her mind. Gemina pulled his hands up to her lips where she placed tender, reverent kisses to his knuckles.

"Of course, my love, I will avoid him unless you are near.. I would not want to add to your stress." Those grey eyes watched him as she continued to adorn his hands with her affections, until those same thoughts she'd shaken away came swiftly back into place.

"Though-.. Perhaps he may be more willing to reveal his intentions to someone so similar.. I am just as alien here as he may be and if his knowledge of fae are as yours is similar to how your people took to my arrival.." It was her turn to tighten her hold on his hands, smiling so gently and encouragingly while waiting to let him piece together what she was implying.

Admittedly, she was being selfish. Curiosity was just as powerful as her loyalty to Maverick was, and what had she to fear? So long as he was near no harm could come to her; she was certain he'd use the bones of anyone who tried as toothpicks. "-But I understand if such a meeting - even planned and choreographed - is too dangerous.. I don't wish to place more stress on your shoulders."

@darkhearthorns

[ravenkult]

Gargoyles by Nikolai Murenets https://www.artstation.com/artwork/Oow0Pb

[goblins-riddles-or-frocks]

Darklina & Nikolina

Nikolina:

Probs my grishaverse OTP! Love them together. Two very different brands of sarcastic

Like as far as I am concerned R&R ends with Alina staying in the Grand Palace and eventually marrying Nikolai

The trauma bonding is just… very good. The way they’re both so badly scarred by the Darkling. The way their public perception is so very different from who they are as people.

“We were friends, weren’t we?” 😭😭

Or even how gargoyle!Nikolai’s interacts with her! When he put the ring on her finger!!

Nikolai could very easily Not Work as a character. Snarky prince who’s also a pirate who’s also some kind of mad scientist steampunk inventor. Like it’s a lot! It’s kind of eyeroll worthy! But idk he makes it work by being a very vulnerable character

And Alina’s just grumpy cat. I like her bitterness a lot.

Idk they just compliment each other very well! And I think thematically, setting aside the absurdity of a love square, he represented the middle ground for Alina in the best way.

Darklina:

Villain ships are delicious

Simultaneously the strongest and weakest aspect of the series. For example the broad brush strokes of what’s there in the first book are way more interesting that what we actually got.

Bardugo def tried to retroactively lay a lot of groundwork for their relationship and establish the complexity of it. And like I’ll take what I can get but I wanted more meat to it.

This dynamic works best when he’s unhinged or when Alina’s fucking him up. I wish she got to do that more though.

The apt pupil scene is so good when she catches him off guard! Just give me more scenes of the Darkling unraveling. He’s such a messy, petty, weak character by implication. (The way he torched Keramzin because Alina didn’t pay attention to him. Or the implication that he might’ve been camping out in the woods for a week waiting to attack the Little Palace on Nikolai’s birthday for dramatics.) I just wanted to see more of that. Tear him down!

Conversely like unpopular opinion I guess but the show just Did Not understand the assignment?

SMH at show!Darkling tearing up every five seconds. What are you a puppy??

Send me a ship and I’ll give you my (brutally) honest opinion of it!

[the-caged-jester]

“Hm.. what about that one?”

*Nikolai pointed at a gargoyle gecko.*

“Felixxx!!!”

"Yes, mea lux?" ^^

[askmalal]

Brother-Captain Kirek had been tracking this... thing... for hours. And now, here it was. In the one place it hadn't been seen on the sensors. And where, even now, more than a dozen false sensor images were being displayed across the reticles of his Tartaros model terminator helmet. So far, it had killed half a dozen Astartes, twice that many serfs, and slashed through eight servitors.

There were many other Legionaries available to the Captain, of course. Twenty of them. In their defense, the Astartes here aboard the frigate had hardly been prepared to repel a boarding action, and two were wounded men hardly in a position to defend themselves. Those who remained outside, unable to exit the Thunderhawk berthed in the hangar in the traditional way, had now cut their way out of the gunship and were now working their way through the bulkheads that lead to the autolift. But it was slow, laborious work, particularly with no access to breaching charges.

The beast-thing crouched in a corner of the great hologram chamber, its clawed hind legs resting on top of what appeared, distressingly, to look a great deal like what had once been Brother Velian. It almost certainly -was- Brother Velian. A section of the control panel had been sliced neatly in half by what could only have been Velian's chainglaive.

Nicolai snarled and leveled his combi-bolter at the thing. The walls of the precious, nearly irreplaceable holo-chamber, erupted in a hail of mass reactive rounds, flaking paint, and cracked glass. The beast thing darted away in a blur of motion, the rounds tracking it as if the Night Lord was firing a point defense mount at a flitting attack ship. None seemed to find purchase, though some struck Velian's body. That seemed undignified, even if Nicolai Kirek hadn't much liked Brother Velian.

When it was over, when the magazine was empty, Nicolai stood in the center of a cloud of debris and a thoroughly ruined holo-chamber. He growled, and slapped another magazine into the combi-bolter. As he did so, the thing was a grey blur, slamming into him with the force of a power maul. He was thrown to the floor, the beast-thing now resting atop his chest, regarding him curiously. Regarding him? Was that the right word?

For, while it had a fanged mouth, which remained impassive, there were no eyes to speak of. Leathery wings and a tail rose up behind a smooth, grey, animalistic form that was somehow a cross between a gargoyle and a cat, or was it a wolf? He wasn't certain. All he knew was that the thing had to die. Damn his temper. If he'd approached this with more guile and less ferocity, he might not find himself where he was just now, pinned beneath a thing that seemed far too light to have him pinned as he was.

"What... are you?" He growled, "And what are you doing on my ship?!"

The beast thing cocked its head at these words. A clawed, disturbingly humanoid hand traced an arc across the ceramite of his gorget, cutting a clear line across the lightning heraldry he had painstakingly refreshed countless times over the centuries of his service. A creature like that could easily kill him, in this position. That it was not, that it seemed to be playing with him, now, was a cruelty truly to the standards of the Eighth Legion.

"Your ship." The voice that came from the thing's small, fanged mouth was an uncomfortably close echo of his own, Nostraman accent.

Except... that the thing wasn't talking. And the thing wasn't coming from the beast-thing's mouth. It was coming from the ragged mouth of the thing that had been Brother Velian, or some approximation of it was, echoing through the cracked remains of a vox grille. It was not true, an actual lie, in fact, that Astartes were immune to fear; they simply processed the experience differently. Now, the ghost of fear began to play across the corners of his mind. He could very easily be dead in a few minutes. There was no way to get to the combi-bolter. Perhaps, if he could reach the vibro blade mag-locked to his cartridge belt...

"Velian..." Nikolai questioned, "are you..."

"...Velian... is not in any condition... to speak. It is fortunate that... the Night Gaunt left his vocal chords intact..."

Nikolai growled his displeasure. "You are wasting your time if you think I'm going to seize up with fear. Just get it over with if you..." he almost had his hand to the pommel of the blade. If he could get a grip....

"Spoken like every self-righteous Legionary I have ever encountered. No. You will live, Captain. If for no other reason than the need to ensure that My Master's message is understood."

"-My- Master's message..." Nikolai frowned, "will soon be very clear. Once the rest of my platoon enter this space, you will die. As painfully as is possible for..."

"At what point," the ragged vox grille continued, "did the sons of Konrad Curze choose to acknowledge Masters? Was it before or after you sold your Legion sold its souls to Abaddon the Despoiler?"

"I am no puppet of Abaddon. And I will..." Now his hands were on the pommel of the blade. If he could use the right leverage, he could easily....

"No." With unnerving speed and bizarre grace, the Beast-Thing traced a claw under the seam of Nikolai's helmet, uncomfortably close to his jugular vein. "Keep the blade where it is. It is a pretty thing. Crafted by true artisans. It would be a shame to waste it. No. You are no puppet of Abaddon, are you? Your Master thinks themself greater than the Warmaster. Curses his name. Do they not?"

"Your message, then," the Captain growled. "Out with it, then."

"The Night-Gaunt's Master wants -your- Master to understand something," the vox crackled. "And there should be no ambiguity in The Night Gaunt's message. The Night Lord will listen to The Night Gaunt. Understood?"

Nicolai Kerik swallowed hard. Furious. Unable to act. Humiliated. When he had the chance, if he had the chance, he would tear the thing to ribbons with his bare, bloody hands!

The Night Gaunt extended its free, right hand, and displayed the 'thumb' and 'index' finger thereof. Clutched between them was.... no. That was impossible, really. An illusion. A trick of the mind. It was very much like a miniaturized, perfectly created model of the Gloriana class battleship that his Battle Company called home.

"This frigate is not your ship," the Night-Gaunt, for that's what it seemed to call itself, echoed via the unfortunate Velian. "It was never your ship. It originally belonged to the Fifteenth Legion, if memory serves my Master correctly. You stole it from a party of rivals. Loyalists, you'd call them. No, even then, it wouldn't be your own ship. This..." The Night-Gaunt cocked its eyeless face toward the miniaturized battleship, "this is the ship that you, and your band of renegades call home. The center of your fleet. This, of course, is a mere toy. And to My Master... the same can be said of your home. Is that clear?"

"I..."

"I do not seek to intimidate you. Nor do I seek to instill fear. That is not my Master's wish. No, The Night-Gaunt wants you to understand the truth. You conduct yourselves like gods. But you are not gods. You are self-righteous, post-human abominations. Do you understand?"

Nicolai said nothing.

"You all think yourselves so pretty. So powerful. You throw proud challenges out to all who will hear them. You spit on the names of Primarchs and Gods alike. And yet, you are nothing like your gene-father. And yet, he was nothing compared to -my- Father. Do you understand?"

Again, the Captain did nothing but grit his teeth.

"To My Master, your home is but a toy and these can be thought of as his fingers. Never forget." the fingers closed down, crushing the toy as if it were a bundle of dry matchsticks. "Remember your place."

"What... is the point of..."

"Arrogance is misplaced in a band of genetically flawed post-human abominations living in a stolen battleship, using stolen weapons. Brave, are you? My Master suggests that you take yourself to Terra, and display that bravery. Or perhaps you would rather return to the fold of the Black Legion, to challenge Abaddon for his title to Warmaster."

"I am not interested in pithy nothings. You have delivered your message. Have you not? If you aren't going to kill me, then..."

"I have delivered my message. My Master now informs me that you may slay me, if you wish. My purpose has been fulfilled."

The claw was withdrawn, and within a second, Nicolai had drawn his vibro-blade, slashing the grey flesh of the Beast-Thing as if it was so much tissue paper. His armor was spattered with gore. And still, the thing gazed at him impassively, its chest a ruin, the color leaving its form. It whispered something as he kicked it away.

"What was that?!" He growled, "More threats?!"

Verian's vox grille gurgled and spat. "...It said..." the voice of Brother Verian choking on his own blood, ".... Ave Malice..."

[pineapples-cant-write]

Hi :)

I’m Callen (they/them). This is my blog for my writing, if you can’t tell by the name. My main blog is @one-hundred-small-pineapples. My OC blog is @one-giant-pineapple. You can find me on ao3 at PineappleUpsideDownCake (formerly Sarcastic_Gay_Dragon)

I’ll be using this blog to post snippets of chapters to come, discarded scenes, wip ideas I’ll probably never get around to, update announcements, and background/behind the scenes things I couldn’t fit into the story! Plus really bad visual references :)

As of Oct 19th (2021), all my stories are being reviewed and edited/rewritten because I’ve been away from writing for a very long time due to my dislike of basically all my stories

Here’s my current stories over on ao3!

Veritas Omnia Vincit series (Harry Potter)

Harry Potter but he’s not Harry Potter, he’s Kallias Slytherin, son of Lord Voldemort and Lily Evans. Follow his journey throughout his Hogwarts years, fighting what the Wizarding World thinks is the good guys, lead by Albus Dumbledore, while also navigating school, family life, friendships, romance, and general shenanigans.

Soulmate AU, Slytherin!Harry, Son of Voldemort!Harry, Harry/Fred/George, no smut but probably some suggestive or implied smut scenes in the later books. Currently on book two, year one.In which Harry Potter is actually Voldemort’s son, not James’, and this basically changes the entirety of the HP books

Ad Astra Per Aspera — pre-Hogwarts (complete, posted)

Nihil Novi Sub Luna — year 1 (incomplete, posted)

8 books planned currently, one for each Hogwarts year plus a pre-Hogwarts book

Book 1 complete, book 2 in progress

BEING HEAVILY EDITED/REWRITTEN

Spiders and Assassins and Teenagers, Oh My! Series (MCU)

The story of Nikolai Steven Romanov-Barnes and his journey from a loving home to HYDRA to his parents and their crazy family to the beyond.

(Natasha/Bucky have a kid while in HYDRA and yeah)

The Spider’s Spawn — CA:WS (incomplete, not posted) (the old version is still up, but the new, hopefully improved, version is not yet)

Unknown number of books planned, mostly because I haven’t thought that far ahead lmao. At least one book for WS, AoU, CW, and then more probably (hopefully)

BEING REWRITTEN

The Moon Series (Teen Wolf)

Teen Wolf but Lydia has a twin brother and lots of things change

The Moon Calls — season 1 (incomplete, posted)

Probably one book for each season, but maybe not following the series exactly, I’m not sure yet.

BEING EDITED

What’s a celebration without you, my love? (Disney Descendants)

For @descendantsgiftexchange here on Tumblr, this was my 2020 gift exchange. It started as part one, but I wanted to write a sequel so I’m in the process of doing that a year later. Harriet Hook/Evie

What’s a celebration without you, my love? (complete, posted)

Currently unnamed (incomplete, not posted)

@descendantsgiftexchange (on Tumblr) Gifts (Disney Descendants)

A collection of all my gifts for the @descendantsgiftecxchange over on Tumblr (previously called @descendantssecretsanta)

I’m in an organizing mood :)

Please — my 2018 gift, Huma, character death, complete

Just You is Enough for Us — my 2019 gift, Humaudrey, set in D3 but also canon divergence, complete

What’s a celebration with you, my love? — my 2020 gift, Evie/Harriet Hook, Evie goes to the Isle to get her gf to come to Auradon basically, complete

A Snowy Auradon Day - my 2021 gift, Core4 with a dash of Sea3, the VKs + AKs introduce the Sea3 to Auradon Winters with a snowball fight, complete

Twin Screams of Death (Riverdale and Teen Wolf crossover)

Senior year was supposed to be normal. Just like freshman year, before murders and drugs and gargoyle kings and other less than admirable plots to take over the town. Just.. normal. It was their last year together, before they all went their separate ways for college. So why on Earth did Fate decide they needed more trouble?

Lydia and her twin brother are cousins of Cheryl Blossom and move (back) to Riverdale after tragedy strikes in Beacon Hills. Jughead’s a dick (sorry but only sorta), Betty is being a supportive cousin, Allydia, Sterek/OMC, Verchoni, others too

Incomplete, posted

BEING EDITED

Bombshell and the Serpent (Riverdale)

An arrogant young princess and her castle's servants fall under the spell of a wicked enchantress, who turns her into the hideous Beast until she learns to love and be loved in return. The spirited, headstrong village girl Cheryl, enters the Beast's castle after she imprisons her brother, Jason. With the help of her enchanted servants, including the fatherly Mr. Potts, Cheryl begins to draw the cold-hearted Beast out of her isolation.

Or,

The Beauty and the Beast AU in which Toni is the beast, Cheryl is Belle, and an assortment of Riverdale characters are servants/villagers

Incomplete, posted

BEING EDITED

The Canary’s Legacy (Arrowverse, more specifically Legends of Tomorrow)

When Sara Lance and the Legends travel to present day New York to fix an anachronism, they find something much more important.

Laurel had kids who somehow have magic, basically.

Incomplete, posted

Not sure if I’m gonna edit/rewrite this or just delete/orphan it 🤷🏻

[somefirewhiskeyfortheway]

My completely unrequested thoughts after finishing the Grisha trilogy

here we go

Mal had big Gale energy in Siege and Storm and I wanted to throttle him but he slightly redeemed himself in Ruin and Rising in my eyes. I say slightly bc he was waaaay too intense.

I don’t know if it’s because I haven’t read YA in a long time but I was desperately waiting for Mal and Alina (or Alina and anyone really) to just...fuck? Like at some point I was really convinced this bitch was gonna die a virgin 

The constant infantilization of the Darkling is probably one of my biggest pet peeves? Like if I had to read a 500+ years or however how old the Darkling is being called “a boy, just a boy” one more time I would’ve to gouge my eyes out

Misha = 👼🏻

The crew (the fellowship of the sun? the Grisha + Mal? whatever, them)  had a great dynamic. Each character was great and entertaining so I’m really excited to read SoC

The beginning of Siege and Storm felt so rushed to me 😬

I haven't read the Tailor but I 100% believe that the Darkling could've help Genya but she was more useful to him in the Little palace and alienated from the other Grisha the bastard

Alina could be so dumb sometimes I swear I wanted to shake her. I guess it’s another common trait in YA and she’s young and in difficult situations but still. 

Mal being the 3rd amplifier...what a plot twist. idk if I’m dumb but I did not see it coming AT ALL

WHY DID THEY GET MARRIED WITHOUT THEIR FRIENDS

I was actively rooting for Alina to die since the end of Shadow and Bone. I really don’t hate her but I just feel like she had to die and go full martyrdom so I was just pissed when Mal kept saving her lol.

When Nikolai got transformed into a gargoyle or whatever...what was the reason? I guess that’s the plot of King of Scars but still

I can see the chemistry between the Darkling and Alina but I couldn't get over the grooming vibes I'm sorry 💀

Wished we could have learned more about the twins 

I was actually annoyed that the Darkling survived the second book. Like he wasn’t that great of a villain to me and I would like for a new challenge in Ruin and Rising 

On that note, I couldn’t really empathize with the Darkling? like I get that he wanted a world where he would be accepted but the message didn’t really get across in my opinion. Leigh Bardugo could've done more to show the legitimacy of his goal if she wanted a grey character? Idk EDIT: I just finished Six of Crows and the Grisha discrimination is so much clearer she could've done that more in the Trilogy

I don’t really care for Nikolai on the throne tbh? I’d be far more interested in a book series about Sturmhond even though there’s probably flashbacks in King of Scars

the fact that Alina still cared/thirsted for the Darkling after everything he did despite the fact she honestly barely knew him even in Shadow and Bone is hilarious to me idk. I know they had this “bond” or whatever but sis he was constantly trying to kill you and your friends like go to therapy, please

When Mal just left after Alina confessed that she was seeing the Darkling in Siege and Storm...I was ready to hunt down this bitch

I really like how she wrote the Darkling’s death, his devastation was really vivid

How did no one recognize Alina after Sankta Alina died? She literally has white hair she's rebuilding her childhood home??

Genya supremacy period

Thinking back about it I don't think there is a single main character in the series who hasn't hurt Alina in some way? They all lied to her and manipulate her and hurt her in some way like it's wild

team Alina should be single but Mal is the less worst option? Or like Genya but davidgenya is everything

[hipsterteller]

a cat in Raccoon city.

to @cheshire18cat​, if it weren’t for you. I would be stuck....and now I’m returning my thanks to you.

Ollie was only 6 when his mother died, it was heartbreaking and ever since then he stop talking and became mute. His father, Christopher Redfield the founder of BSAA has been finding the killer who murder his wife.

so everyday he would leave Ollie under care by his sister, Claire. But luckily he wasn’t alone....a gray cat with golden eyes, he name him “Munchie”. Cause he smells like those donuts from donuts shop two blocks from his home.

but what he doesn’t know, that his precious cat has a double life.

-Redfield Residence, 10:00pm-

12-year-old, Ollie had just fell asleep after reading the book his mommy gave him when she was still alive. He wore an big sweater and pants, he snore softly as he cuddle his bear. Munchie manage to jump to window sill and with quick movement of his paw, the window swung open slightly letting the cold wind breeze.

this made the little boy shiver by the fresh wind at back of his neck, he slowly open his eyes and look to see that Munchie is starring back at him. He sat up and cat turn back to open window to outside and jump out.

Ollie began to wonder, every night his cat would sneak out of the house and come back at morning.

he slowly crawl at side of his bed and pull out his boots and put it on, he slowly crawl back to window and open it slightly wider and got out. He steady himself in wall and slowly follow his pet.

Munchie began walking further away from Redfield residence, Ollie tried not to fall from neighborhood brick wall, so he then goes on all four and began crawling slowly. He pass by each neighbor hood backyard as well one dog that kept barking at him and Munchie.

Ollie can feel his close to source on where his going at night, there at apartment, he saw someone getting dress in slick suit, his messy blonde hair all dry up and comb and place a hat with cat ears along side red goggles.

He zip up his suit leaving his expose cleavage, he grab a whip all wrap up and place it at his upper left thigh strap.

Munchie let out a cry as the person turn to him, his blue eyes shimmer down at him along a smile. Ollie watch and gaze at the stranger eyes, his eyes reminds him his late mother, oh how he misses his mommy.

she would place bandages on his scrape knee after trying to ride a bike, would read bedtime stories for him before bed and how she gave kisses to his daddy. He misses her.

Ollie wipe his tears away and sniff a bit, he decided to crawl back home, as soon he began to reach his home, he stop mid way when he heard voices.

“so your saying that Redfield has an offspring?”

“yes, his even cute when his asleep except for that pesky cat.”

He stood up and lean against the plank wall, he look through the wedges to see four male and one woman.

“so Jill Valentine had a child and yet kept hidden in order to keep him safe...” a deep Russian accent spoke, Ollie look at male to see that he has silver hair and wore what look like tactical gear like his father but from different branch of government.

“yes and get this, his also hunting down that cat burglar. He recently stole the files from Chief Irons office along documents about Umbrella illegal action.” a female voice spoke up and it made Ollie recognize that voice.

his pupil look at woman in shadow as she slowly step out of darkness revealing non other than , Excella Giovanni.

Ollie gasp and about to fall back, luckily he push himself to wooden plank but only for him to fall down when plank this startle the goons as Ollie quickly stood up and made a ran for it but only for Russian man grab him by the back of his shirt.

“well now, what do we have here.....” he held his tiny chin as Ollie is scarred “you must be the Redfield off spring.”

before he and the goons leave, the sound of wind crack were in air, they look up at the tree to see a shadow figure holding a whip. This made the whole neighborhood woken by the sound of cries, scream, gunshot and whip.

-2 minutes later-

“little boy, are you okay?” a voice calls out to Ollie thoughts as he slowly woke up and found himself starring at sky, Munchie came to his view and lick his nose, Ollie sat up and found himself at rooftop of apartment, the male figure is leaning against the chimney as he took off his goggles and hat to reveal himself.

“now why are you following Munchie?” he asked, Ollie bit his bottom lip as Munchie purred at his small chest and snuggle him.

the male chuckle and kneel down to his level “my name is Leon, and you?”

Ollie bit his bottom lip and respond “Ollie..”

Leon smile as he pat his head, before he could ask him more question, he heard Russian man voice...behind them along gun click. Without a second to spear Leon quickly pick up the boy placing his hat and goggle in his head for protection and made a quick run for it.

Munchie follow behind nearly dodging the bullet, Ollie hold on as Leon jump roof to roof as person behind them is still on there tail. Munchie rush in front guiding them.

it didn’t took long when Leon spot the crane that’s pointing at clock tower, he put Ollie behind his back, his tiny arms wrap around him as he began to climb up, Munchie took an alternate route on street as Russian man chase went up until Leon ran to walk way and jump to Clock tower balcony.

“stay here..” He order Ollie as he put him down, he got to edge were he stood above a gargoyle statue, Leon glare at Russian man as he recognize him.

“Nikolai Zinoviev...the man who murder Jill Valentine...”

Nikolai let out a huff as he clap by Leon intelligence.

“I’m impress that you know me..” He commented, Leon ready his whip as Nikolai grab his handgun only for the whip wrap around the top, Leon smirk but it frown when Nikolai grab it’s rope and yank it out of Leon as the gun and whip fall down to ground.

“Leon!” Ollie shout as door behind him is slam open, he turn and saw his dad “daddy?”

Chris is shock to see his son and Munchie but mostly saw Nikolai and Leon brawl at crane walk way, Leon tried to get away from his grasp around his neck as he began to choke to death.

“it’s a shame. You should have been a perfect assa-”

he was cut off when a bullet went through his shoulder, he scream as he fall off and landed on concrete bottom. Leon tried to breath ad luckily Chris came aiding him.

“you okay?” Chris asked as Leon smile.

“never better.”

Ollie watch as two men got to balcony and watch sun rises, Ollie decided to tell his tale to his daddy but somehow his daddy doesn’t seem to get concentrate but rather focus on Leon blue eyes that sparkle as sun rises.

-a month later-

Munchie was on brick wall walking as soon he got to window of Redfield Residence, Ollie open the window for him. The gray cat jump down of the home as the young boy pick him up with both arms.

Chris and Leon, are now married and Leon stop stealing and decided to join BSAA. As well a proposal that same day.

[emjenenla]

The Only Thing You Can Change is Your Name [A Grisha Trilogy Fic]

Modern AU/a Heavyverse fic. Through the dark and gritty streets of Ketterdam, among the worst of the worst one thing is whispered; if you need someone dead and you’ve got the money, go to the Darkling and they’ll take care of it for you. Appearances/mentions of Six of Crows characters.

Warnings: violence

Title: The Only Thing You Can Change is Your Name

Author: Emjen Enla (Fanfiction)/emjenenla (Tumblr)

Teaser: Modern AU/a Heavyverse fic. Through the dark and gritty streets of Ketterdam, among the worst of the worst one thing is whispered; if you need someone dead and you’ve got the money, go to the Darkling and they’ll take care of it for you. Appearances/mentions of Six of Crows characters.

Rating: PG-13/T

Canon/Timeline: Modern AU, same universe as I'm Holding On; Why is Everything so Heavy? but can be read separately; set a couple months before that fic (perhaps between 4 and 6 months?), the Darkling is in his mid-thirties, Alina, Nikolai and Co. are in their mid-twenties

Dominant Characters: The Darkling, appearances by Nikolai Lantsov, Alina Starkov, Jan Van Eck, Pekka Rollins, Tolya Yul-Bataar, Nikolai’s family, unnamed appearances by Mal Oretsev, Tamar Kir-Bataar, Genya Safin, Zoya Nazyalensky, mentions of Baghra, Bo Yul-Bayur, Kuwei Yul-Bo

Pairings: a TINY bit of one-sided Darklina because the Darkling wouldn’t be himself without his creepy, unhealthy obsession with Alina

Warnings: violence

Notes:

-The Darkling/Aleksander Morozova uses he/his pronouns, but the Darkling as a semi-mythical figure in the lore of Ketterdam is genderless. Therefore, if this story was in Nikolai or Alina's POV the Darkling would be referred to using they/theirs pronouns.

-The City Council in this AU is the equivalent of the Merchant Council in SoC.

-Also, there's a frustrating number of unnamed characters in this trilogy (The Queen of Ravka is literally just referred to as the Queen).

Disclaimer: I don’t own The Grisha Trilogy or Six of Crows or the song “Kira” from the Death Note Musical (the song I got the title from).

--

Some indeterminable amount of time ago, a man climbs the rickety stairs to an attic apartment. He keeps a hand on his gun, and looks left and right in fear. At the top of the stairs he knocks on the door. Crumbles of peeling paint fall away with the mild force of his hand on the door.

After a moment the door opens though no one stands on the other side. The man stands in the doorway for a moment, wondering what to do, then a voice calls from within, “Enter.” He takes a deep breath, gathers his courage and steps inside.

The apartment is utterly dark, lit only by a few small lights that do nothing to give any impression of the room. The only thing that can be seen is the vague outline of a figure sitting in the center of the room. The man makes his way across the floor, stumbling over a couple objects on the way.

“Sit,” the figure says.

He does.

“What do you request?” the figure asks. The voice is too low to be female and too high to be male.

The man hands over a stack of hundred dollar bills, and names his request. He gives a name, a description, and details. The figure takes it all with a nod and tells him to leave, and not to worry about anything.

He flees.

If the room had been a bit lighter, or perhaps just if he would have been a bit more observant he might have noticed that he and the figure were not the only people in the room. He would have noticed the small, dark-haired, gray-eyed boy, hunched in a corner, watching them both with wide, learning eyes.

But he didn’t notice, just like everyone else who had ever come into that little apartment.

~~~~

Many Years Later

The Darkling hunched on the roof of the mansion, staring down into the ornate courtyard. His booted feet were braced securely enough that he felt comfortable letting go of the tasteless gargoyle and blowing into his hands in an attempt to warm them. Ketterdam was in the grips of a coldsnap and his thin black gloves were meant to prevent him from leaving fingerprints, not keep his hands warm.

He was a little frustrated. It was supposed to get substantially warmer later in the week and he would have waited until then if his employer hadn’t been chomping at the bit.

A car pulled through the mansion’s front gates and coasted to a stop before the door. The Darkling pulled out a pair binoculars and watched as his targets got out. Alexander Lantsov, his wife and their sons, Vasily and Nikolai. By the time the night was over all four of them would be dead.

He watched while the family vanished inside then dropped the binoculars and climbed away from the edge of the building. Now he needed to wait for the right moment to strike.

Normally he would have hung out on the roof until the family went to bed, but it was really too cold for that tonight. He made his way to the doorway that allowed people to access the roof. There was no security, and the door wasn’t even locked. The Darkling snorted, people this stupid almost deserved to be assassinated. It wasn’t that difficult to slap on some climbing spikes and scale the side of the building; despite her old age Baghra had been doing it right up to her death.

The Darkling let himself into the building and hunched on the stairs, enjoying the warmth. He tried not to think about Baghra because whenever he did he was always sucked down into the bottomless pit of his own loneliness. It was a little terrifying because he hadn’t thought he would miss her. For years he had hated her as his jailer, as the woman who kept him trapped in their home in the name of safety. He’d expected to rejoice that she was gone, but that didn’t change the fact that she was the only person who he’d ever interacted with more than tangentially.

He pressed his gloved fingertips against his eyelids and tried to imagine that he was pressing away those thoughts. Those were the petty worries of Aleksander Morozova, not the Darkling. There was a reason he’d begun thinking of himself as the Darkling after Baghra’s death. It served as a way to mentally separate himself from the pathetic child who had wandered their home wishing that something would happen to take him far away.

At least that was supposed to work in theory.

He leaned his shoulder against the wall and forced himself to begin running through the particulars of the plan. He had a job to do, he did not have time to sit and mope.

As they often did, his thoughts took on the format of a conversation. He imagined he was laying out the plan for someone else and they were listening intently. Figuring out the best way to explain what he was planning to do kept him occupied until the house quieted around him and it was time to move.

He made sure his voluminous black robes and featureless hood and face coverings were all in their correct places. In his Darkling robes he was identity-less and genderless, a wraith of the night. He was visibly taller than Baghra had been, but she had been very careful and theatrical when interacting with everyone as the Darkling. He doubted there was anyone in the city who would notice that he was not the same Darkling who had begun their reign of terror sixty years ago.

The halls of the mansion were dark but there was just enough light to see the reflections from the gold details that covered basically everything. It was almost sickening. The Darkling had known that Ravka Oil made a lot of money, but he had no idea its CEO was quite this rich. Of course there was always the possibility that all this was bought with credit cards and that Alexander Lantsov, the King of Ravka Oil, didn’t have the money for this, but there was no way to tell. As a rule, the Darkling only cared out his target’s finances when that would affect the job, but that could be what the Apparat wanted the Lantsovs dead for. The Darkling would probably never know and that didn’t really bother him.

He went to the master bedroom first. Even though it was not that late both Alexander Lantsov and his wife were stone-cold asleep, overly confident in their high-tech security systems. The Darkling killed the wife first just to prove that the husband won’t notice.

When that was done, the Darkling left the master bedroom, closing the door softly behind him. There was no noise, no mess. If the rest of the job went this smoothly the bodies might not even be discovered until morning.

The next stop was the bedroom of the older son, Vasily. Since this target was substantially younger, the Darkling was prepared to face a conscious target, but Vasily Lantsov was passed out drunk and was also no trouble. The Darkling snorted as he let himself out of the bedroom, this was shaping up to be the easiest five hundred thousand dollars he’d ever made.

The last target was Nikolai Lantsov, the youngest of the family who was rumored to not actually be Alexander Lantsov’s son. From what the Darkling had heard, there was some definite truth to that rumor, but the Apparat was still willing to pay a hundred thousand dollars for his head, so the Darkling considered himself aptly paid enough not to care.

Nikolai Lantsov lived in an attic bedroom that was remarkably close to the stairwell the Darkling had been squatting in for the last few hours. Still, even though it was an attic only in name. The stairway was just as expensive as the rest of the house, though it was a bit more understated, something the Darkling’s eyes were thankful for.

He wasn’t sure how it happened. Perhaps the people upstairs had reached a lull in their conversation. Perhaps the wind blew just hard enough to cover up their voices. Perhaps he had made that fatal mistake that Baghra had always warned him about and allowed his success to go to his head. No matter what the answer was, he climbed the last stair and found himself face to face with a very awake Nikolai Lantsov and a handful of others.

For a period of time that was only a couple seconds at most, they all stared at each other. Aside from Nikolai Lantsov there were six others, two men, four women. The Darkling was massively outnumbered.

For the first time he cursed his adherence to Baghra’s “never take a gun on a job” rule. She claimed that if you carried a gun it was too easy to panic and shoot someone you could have taken out by other, quieter means. This was probably the one time that proved that wasn’t always true. If the Darkling had a gun he could have shot his target and fled before the others had a chance to do anything. As it was he didn’t have any range weapons but a couple knives that weren’t strictly throwing knives that he could still throw if he needed to.

He threw a couple of the knives in Nikolai Lantsov’s direction. The bigger of the two men threw himself into Nikolai, knocking him to the floor and taking the knife in this own shoulder. “Tolya!” one of the girls yelled.

The Darkling knew that the job was off. Without the element of surprise, even the elusive and powerful Darkling couldn’t take these odds. He turned to run down the stairs but a voice stopped him. “You! Freeze or I’ll shoot!”

It was always a good policy to avoid being shot, so he stopped and looked back. One of the women had somehow come up with a handgun and she was holding it in a way that proved that she definitely knew how to fire it.  She had a thin, striking face and dark, searching eyes. Her hair was probably platinum blonde, but it was so pale it looked white.

She was beautiful.

It took him a second it realize what he was thinking and reprimand himself. Hadn’t Baghra trained him to avoid being distracted?

“Put your weapons down!” the girl said.

“No, thanks,” the Darkling said in the mid-range, androgynous voice that Baghra had spent many, many years drilling him on until she deemed it perfect. “I’ll be going now if it’s all the same to you.” Then he dove for the stairs.

He didn’t bother going down them, he simply jumped, a trick he’d practiced on the the many staircases at the apartment as a bored teen. He heard the gun go off behind him and pain seared his left side. He was more surprised than anything else; he hadn’t expected someone that delicate to actually pull the trigger regardless of her obvious proficiency with firearms.

He hit the floor at the bottom of the staircase and rolled before coming back up running. He made for the staircase to the roof. They’d expect him to go down and attempt to get out of the building; they wouldn’t think to look up.

The roof was no warmer than it had been hours before. The Darkling hunched down behind a particularly large gargoyle to wait. Nikolai Lantsov and his friends would be out on the lawn within minutes. If he tried to scale the building now he would be seen and captured. Fortunately, it would probably be hours before anyone, the police included thought to check the roof, so he could wait here for the right moment to make his escape.

He took a moment to see to his side wound. The wound was bleeding but still rather shallow. He was lucky the girl had been shooting a handgun, her aim would probably be lethal with a rifle.

He ripped a section out of his robe, pointedly ignoring the part of his brain that was chattering out the exact reprimands Baghra would have used had she still been alive. He knew he’d messed up, but he was going to get out of it and everything out be okay.

He wrapped the strip of fabric tightly around his chest and settled back against the gargoyle to wait.

~~~~

It was dawn by the time the Darkling made it back to the apartment. He showered to thaw out, stitched up and bandaged his wound, then he contacted the Apparat to come with the rest of the money.

When the Apparat showed up, the top floor of the apartment was clothed in darkness and the Darkling was back in his robes. He’d cleaned some of the blood off in the sink but it would take much more time than he had to wash it completely and fix the ripped part.

The Apparat paid the second half of the five hundred thousand dollars without asking for details about the job so the Darkling didn’t bother mentioning that Nikolai Lantsov was still alive. He’d gotten his money and the Apparat knew better than to cross him so it would be fine.

As the Apparat left, the Darkling bid the other man goodbye using his real name, just to throw him off and make him even less likely to attempt revenge when he realized Nikolai Lantsov was still alive. Once was gone, the Darkling locked the door and opened the curtains before heading downstairs to pick a bedroom.

Most people who came to hire the Darkling assumed that the room they saw was the only one that he used, but in reality the Darkling owned the whole building. There was enough space to house many people, but he lived alone. The building was completely furnished but modestly so even though there was absolutely no reason for that either.

The Darkling was one of the richest people on earth. The fees required to hire the Darkling were so high that Baghra had been set for life before he had become a teenager. He had enough money that he and a couple others could live lavishly without ever thinking about working again.

He wasn’t exactly sure why he kept taking jobs when he didn’t need to, though he suspected it was because he had no idea what he would do with himself if he didn’t.

He pointedly did not think about these things as he picked a room with a large, soft king-sized bed, and collapsed onto it. He curled up under the blankets and slept.

~~~~

The Darkling woke up after the sun had set and stumbled groggily to the nearest kitchen to find something to eat. His side was throbbing so he took a couple painkillers and a pill from his antibiotic stash because the last thing he needed was a raging infection.

He dug through the fridge looking for something that he actually wanted to eat. He knew that he had leftover pizza in one of his multiple fridges but this apparently wasn’t the one. He considered trying to find that pizza, but he didn’t feel like wandering around checking all the refrigerators. Instead he warmed up some soup that probably hadn’t been sitting for too long.

He had just finished eating when the proximity alarms for the staircase leading to the upstairs door started going off. Someone was coming to have an audience with the Darkling.

He threw the empty bowl into the sink and bolted for the interior stairs. He made it to the room just as there was a knock at the door. He threw the still-dirty Darkling robes on, pulled the mask on and yanked the blinds closed. Then he turned on the tiny lights and settled down in the specific place Baghra had marked out all those years before. When he was sure he was ready he pressed the hidden button to open the door.

Two men entered the room. Neither was in particularly good shape and both carried themselves with the pompous poise of extremely rich and extremely arrogant men. Granted, basically everyone who came to the Darkling with jobs was extremely rich and extremely arrogant, but these two seems somehow more so than usual.

The Darkling watched without speaking as they fumbled and stumbled their way across the dark room and sat down before him. One set a stack of hundred dollar bills on the floor between them; the consultation fee.

The Darkling picked up the bills and checked them by tilting the stack towards one of the tiny blue lights. Baghra had spent literally decades fiddling with the arrangement of the lights until they only benefited her and left her customers floundering in the dark. When she’d died the Darkling had seen no need to do anything but tweak the angles to accommodate his larger form.

Two carefully placed lights gave him a view of both customer’s faces, and the Darkling studied them as he slid the money into his robes and waited for them to speak.

“I am Jakob Hertzoon,” one man said. “This is my business partner, we are here to-”

“No you’re not,” the Darkling said in the Darkling voice.

“Excuse me?” the man asked.

“You’re not Jakob Hertzoon,” the Darkling said. “You’re Pekka Rollins. And you,” he gestured at the other man, “you’re Jan Van Eck. Just because no one knows who I am does not mean that I am not knowledgeable about the inhabitants of Ketterdam.”

“I-” Pekka Rollins looked nervous now, it was obvious that he hadn’t expected the Darkling to recognize the false name. “I…”

“So we lied about our names,” Jan Van Eck said leaning forward slightly. “We still have a job for you.”

“I’m listening,” The Darkling said steepling his fingers together.

Jan Van Eck pulled a folder out his briefcase and handed it over. The Darkling took it but didn’t open it because that would reveal that he had enough light to read it. “That is a file on a man named Bo Yul-Bayur. He used to be a practicing doctor, but recently he’s been doing medical research for Ketterdam Hospital. He has some research we want. We tried to buy it from him but he went into hiding with his son. We want to hire you to find Yul-Bayur, retrieve his research and...remove him and his son from the picture.”

This would not be the first job the Darkling had taken that would require him to track down his target, but it was never a good idea to seem too interested. “Finding Yul-Bayur might take me a considerable amount of time,” he said injecting as much disinterest as possible into his voice. “You’d have to make it worth my time.”

“Is ten million dollars worth your time?” Van Eck asked.

It felt like the world actually stopped spinning, only years of Baghra’s lessons kept him from reacting. He had never been offered a job with that much payment, and Baghra hadn’t either. When the Darkling had been in his early teens, Baghra had assassinated five members of the City Council at a million dollars a head, and that was the biggest job either of them had either done. Ten million was like a dream.

“Do you actually have that much money?” he asked when he’d controlled his emotions enough to speak in his androgynous voice without emotion. “You do realize that I charge half up front which means that you’ll need to give me five million before I even start on this job.”

Van Eck reached into his briefcase and set several more stacks of hundred dollar bills on the floor. “That’s a million dollars right there,” he said quietly. “If you take the job, I’ll give you another million every two weeks until we reach ten million. It will take us five months to get there and I imagine that you’ll be done long before then if you’re as good as everyone says you are. When you finish, I’ll give you the rest of the money all at once.”

The Darkling picked up one of the stacks of bills and checked them, trying not to look as excited as he actually was.

“Do we have a deal?” Van Eck pressed in a strange tone that suggested that he might have realized just how interested the Darkling was. Pekka Rollins looked on, staring at the money like he wanted nothing better than to steal it.

The Darkling knew he shouldn’t agree right away, that he should tell them he’d get back to them and take time to do some research. The reason that Baghra had gotten that five million dollar job was because a group of people on the City Council had pooled their money to pay her. Van Eck was claiming to have ten million to pay an assassin with no help. Something was fishy, but the Darkling found he didn’t particularly care.

That realization was a little startling. It seemed that he didn’t just take jobs because he didn’t know what else to do; it seemed there was an element of greed to this too. It didn’t matter how much money he had; he liked to make more.

“You have a deal, Mr. Van Eck,” The Darkling said. “Now, what kind of research do you want me to retrieve?”

--

Hope you enjoyed. I’m not going to promise anything more in AU because I don’t want to tie myself to anything, but I am thinking about other stories.

Please fav, follow and review!

Emjen

[elains]

oc’s asks who??? ✨ Tell us about Ragnar & Aleksei (easy mode for now 👀)

SHDHYSHSYSYSYAT MY BOYS!!

Answer under the cut because otherwise it’d get too big ♥

• ALEKSEI

Full Name:Aleksei Konstantin Mihlsartt das Voynartion. Aleksei and Konstantin are bothtraditional names from Loriath; Konstantin in particular pays homage to afamous ancestor, Konstantin the Wolf. Mihlsartt and das Voynartion are hisfamily names, the former being his mother’s and the later his father’s.

Gender and Sexuality:Male, Heterosexual.

Pronouns:He/Him.

Ethnicity/Species:Caucasian, with some Elven Blood on his mother’s side and a distant trace of divineblood on his father’s.

Birthplaceand Birthdate: 12th March in the City of Harnov, the Kingdom ofLoriath’s ancient capital.

GuiltyPleasures: Aleksei enjoys reading poetry. A lot. He could quotemany an author on the spot.

Phobias:Not really terrified or afraid of anything. Aleksei was trained to be an elitewarrior from his childhood, and things that would frighten most people arenothing special to him. He may have a bit of a problem with traps since they werethe bane of his trainings.

What TheyWould Be Famous For: The guy who fell in love with a girlfrom a rival family and who was willing to put an age old feud to rest just soshe could be happy. If putting a (hopefully not temporary) end to the intenseanimosity between the das Voynartion and the Aelroth isn’t enough, then his ownnatural talent as one of the most promising warriors of Loriath’s newgeneration and the Crown Prince’s best friend.

What TheyWould Get Arrested For: Fighting in a bar due to an argumentGavriel started and then conveniently stepped aside, because his best friendcan’t fight hand to hand to hand to save his life, and under Lord Nikolai’sorders for placing a spell on his daughter (Which is just him being a desperatefather).

OC You ShipThem With: ALETHEA AELROTH. They’re probably my favourite ship!He fell in love with her when they were young, but due to the bad blood betweentheir families, he couldn’t just talk to her, couldn’t be her friend.Fascinated as he was, Aleksei deliberately annoyed and teased her just to havean excuse to talk to Thea, to have her attention on him. Seduction was toocheap a way to conquer Alethea, she deserved better, and even if he stopped theteasing when he realised the hopelessness of his situation, Aleksei neverstopped loving her. He’s stumped that she eventually fell in love with him too,and still doesn’t quite believe it. Alek is surprised that his family reactedand adapted much better than he ever expected to the “The Heir is in love withan Aelroth” ordeal.

OC MostLikely To Murder Them: Nikolai and Cygnus Aelroth, thefather and brother of Alethea. He’d already be in danger if he were anyoneelse, but as the heir to the das Voynartion, his predicament is even worse.Truth be told, Aleksei is more scared of Callidora’s wrath than anyone else’s.

FavoriteMovie/Book Genre: He doesn’t really have a favouritegenre, being able to enjoy the worst horror and the fluffiest romances. If I’dto say anything, I’d say the epic adventures across fantastical lands and worlds.

LeastFavorite Movie/Book Cliche: Doesn’t like the portrayal of therich and popular, mostly because Aleksei is one of them and knows that peopleare much more complex than what the books and movies show. Well, sure, thereare some people who are rotten, but it hits a bit close to home and his ownfriends. He also detests the hero who gets strong and talented quickly. No,even with natural talent it takes years of practice to get to that level ofskill. He would know.

Talentsand/or Powers: Alek is a warrior trained from childhood, whichwas absolutely expected of the heir of the das Voynartion, but he was lucky (orunlucky) to have a mother whose family also subscribed to the “Training fromHell” philosophy. As such, he’s deadly with almost any weapon in hand, andaided by his Super-velocity is credible threat. His black hair also marks arare power in his bloodline: Fear. Alek can induce fear in people or take itaway, as well as construct images straight from nightmares.

Why SomeoneMight Love Them: He’s one of the goods ones, not a VirtuousCinnamon Roll by any means, but a young man whose heart is in the right place.Aleksei is charismatic, easy going and loyal,  someone who will be there for his friends ifthey need him and call them out if they do something wrong— though he’d neverrat them out. He’s courteous and polite when in conversation and would rathernot get into pointless fights. Alek has a good sense of humour and laughseasily and truly.

Why SomeoneMight Hate Them: Aleksei is cocky and, more often than not,manipulative, knowing the effect his good looks and title have on people andusing it to his advantage. He is ruthless and underhanded when feelingthreatened, which can lead to rather unfortunate mistakes andmisunderstandings. While not one of the meanest ones, Alek doesn’t intervenes either,unless he thinks it’s too much for himself. And since connections wouldguarantee him and his friends free passes out of almost any situation, peopledo have reason to dislike and even hate him.

How TheyChange: Much of it is due to Aleteha’s influence, his desireto do right by her. Aleksei stops trying to be manipulative when he doesn’treally need to be, and to stand up even against what he deep down knows iswrong, or at least not the way it should be.

Why You LoveThem: Aleksei charmed me from the very beginning because Ican imagine him, with all his flaws and qualities, his loyalty to his bestfriend and because his willingness to bury centuries of bad blood for a girlhe’s loved since forever.

• RAGNAR

Full Name:Ragnar Gawain Verselien Nightmare Artwaltz. Ragnar is a common name within hismother’s family, as well as a reminder of their home on Earth. Verselien andArtwaltz are his mother Lyzz’s family names, and Nightmare his father’s.

Gender andSexuality: Male, Bisexual.

Pronouns:He/Him.

Ethnicity/Species:Nordic.

Birthplaceand Birthdate: 30th August, the City of Castra Aersa, theKingdom of Ekalyon.

GuiltyPleasures: Playing with his sister’s cats when she’s notaround.

Phobias:Ever since she stabbed his hand many years ago, Ragnar is terrified of his elder sister Yevgeniya. He took her threat to killhim if he tried to mess with her again quite seriously.

What TheyWould Be Famous For: Pulling a big prank on some fancy,important party (Perhaps a Royal Ball, should Toire allow it), thus causing alot of chaos in the process.

What TheyWould Get Arrested For: Blowing something up he shouldn’thave or accidentally harming people with his actions.

OC You ShipThem With: Blair Larrystein. Ragnar doesn’t care for what peoplebelieve she’s missing, to him Blair is perfect the way she is. He is jealous ofher, and this being Blair, she loves to provoke him. They’ve such a fun butlovely dynamic!

OC MostLikely To Murder Them: Yevgeniya Artwaltz, his oldersister, for messing with her and her stuff. Yeva has no patience whatsoever forRagnar’s pranks and schemes and doesn’t appreciate when they’re aimed at her.She’s violent, Ragnar knows it and decided he doesn’t want to try his luck.

FavoriteMovie/Book Genre: Horror! Delights himself inpredicting what and when and how things will go wrong, finding the despairingsituations the characters are in quite funny and wild.

LeastFavorite Movie/Book Cliche: The Pure Incorruptible Hero, or anyhero who is firmly on the white side of morality, or the lawful. BORING.

Talentsand/or Powers: Like most members of the House of Artwaltz,Ragnar has the Umbrakinesis power, being able to control shadows as he wishes.He also has a familiar like his father, a gargoyle named Czernobog, whoseagility, endurance and wildfire breath makes it a good ally to have in thefield.

Why SomeoneMight Love Them: Ragnar is intelligent and creative, being ableto come up with new ideas and ways out of a situation easily. He’s witty and funny,able to lighten any mood if he so wishes. Mysterious and adventurous, but overallnice to any person.

Why SomeoneMight Hate Them: … However, most of the time Ragnar wants tospread chaos and mayhem and have a good laugh. He lives for it, and nicenessmay just be a means to an end. He’s not particularly careful, or thinks aboutthe repercussions of his actions, how they’ll hurt whomever he targets. He’smore interested in discovering if he can achieve whatever he set out to do andget away with it. Ragnar isn’t really sorry for using people to a certain goal,since he thinks he’s doing nothing bad, nor does he rarely intend to screw themover later.

How TheyChange: There’s more to life than pranks, and if he trulywishes to be someone who can stand by Blair’s side and aid Victoire, there arethings which needs to change. Ragnar learns what is the meaning responsibilityand of consequences, and how his “innocent” pranks can cause people harm.

Why You LoveThem: My Dark Marauder! Honestly, Ragnar is such a funcharacter, one of the few of mine whose Chaotic alignment shines through AND ILOVE IT. He’s loyal like a dog, perhaps a bit insane and at the same timeclever, and I love him.

[kfvbook]

2015 (51)

the fatal eggs (mikhail bulgakov) - 7/10 roadside picnic (arkady & boris strugatsky) - 8/10 the brothers karamazov (fyodor dostoevsky) - 8/10 on the eve (ivan turgenev) - 8/10 rudin (ivan turgenev) - 8/10 oblomov (ivan goncharov) - 10/10 what is to be done? (nikolai chernychevsky) - 9/10 mother (maxim gorky) - 7/10 the loser (thomas bernhard) - 7/10 timbuktu (paul auster) - 7/10 travels in the scriptorium (paul auster) - 7/10 slaughterhouse-five (kurt vonnegut) - 9/10 the idiot (fyodor dostoevsky) - 9/10 sharp objects (gillian flynn) - 7/10 the autobiography of an execution (david dow) - 5/10 what we talk about when we talk about love (raymond carver) - 8/10 the apprenticeship of duddy kravitz (mordecai richler) - 9/10 master and man (leo tolstoy) - 7/10 the death of ivan ilyich (leo tolstoy) - 8/10 first love (ivan turgenev) - 10/10 gargoyles (thomas bernhard) - 9/10 coffee at luke’s: an unauthorized gilmore girls gabfest (jennifer crusie et al) - 6/10 anthem (ayn rand) - 4/10 the wallcreeper (nell zink) - 9/10 born weird (andrew kaufman) - 6/10 the tiny wife (andrew kaufman) - 7/10 the hawkline monster (richard brautigan) - 7/10 dreaming of babylon (richard brautigan) - 8/10 a confederate general from big sur (richard brautigan) - 10/10 in watermelon sugar (richard brautigan) - 10/10 trout fishing in america (richard brautigan) - 9/10 crime and punishment (fyodor dostoevsky) - 9/10 beautiful feathers (cyprian ekwensi) - 6/10 the heredity of taste (natsume soseki) - 8/10 hearing things (natsume soseki) - 8/10 ten nights of dreams (natsume soseki) - 9/10 morphine (mikhail bulgakov) - 7/10 the shooting party (anton chekhov) - 10/10 the double (fyodor dostoevsky) - 7/10 the steppe (anton chekhov) - 7/10 dandelion wine (ray bradbury) - 7/10 confessions of a mask (yukio mishima) - 9/10 winesburg, ohio (sherwood anderson) - 8/10 lolita (vladimir nabokov) - 10/10 the defense (vladimir nabokov) - 7/10 one day in the life of ivan denisovich (aleksandr solzhenitsyn) - 8/10 a hero of our time (mikhail lermontov) - 9/10 death on the installment plan (louis-ferdinand celine) - 10/10 here is new york (e. b. white) - 7/10 dead souls (nikolai gogol) - 8/10 fathers and sons (ivan turgenev) - 10/10

[newsnigeria]

Check out New Post published on Ọmọ Oòduà

New Post has been published on http://ooduarere.com/news-from-nigeria/world-news/russian-general-staff/

Syria SITREP: How the Russian General Staff is fooling the US and Israel

How the Russian General Staff is fooling the US and Israel

Source: https://cont.ws/@vitimbabi4ev/928860

Translated by Eugenia

The day before yesterday, the world media have published the new of the meeting in Sweden of the Western European UN representatives regarding implementation of the UN general Assembly resolution 377 “Uniting for Peace”. The meeting made clear the strategy of the West to exclude Russia from discussions of all critical political and military issues anywhere in the world.

Judging by the experience of the mid-20th century when our so-called “partners” easily unleashed the bloody Korean was of 1950-1953 getting around the Soviet veto in the UN Security Council, this resolution in likely to succeed in achieving its objectives.

Let us reviews the situation regarding the delivery to Syria of the newest anti-aircraft and anti-missile defense systems as well as the details of the use in case of further attack by the coalition.

The first information, with the reference to informed sources in the Tartus province, about the possibility of the delivery to the Syrian Arabic Republic of an unknown number of S-300 systems of unknown modification appeared across the space of the Western and Russian Internet approximately a week ago. It has been reported that the systems have been delivered to Syria in the dock for armored vehicles of the large amphibious assault ship “Nikolai Filchenkov” of the Russian Black Sea Fleet and unloaded under aerosol screen in order to hide from the watchful eye of the electron complex SYERS-2B/C installed in the rotary turret of the RQ-4B drone “Global Hawk”.

The new was reinforced by the information from the online traffic monitors about the arrival to the airbase Khmeimim of the heavy transport aircraft AN-124 “Ruslan”, which in 2015 delivered to Syria the first C-400 “Triumf”, as well as the statement by the Syrian ambassador in Russia Riad Haddad that it has been a month since the Syrian Army have had S-300 in its arsenal.

Nevertheless, in spite of all this disparate information, our military and diplomatic sources and other agencies close to the Ministry of Defense and the General Staff of Russia are not in a hurry to announce the transfer to Syria of S300 systems as a fait accompli. Why is that?

This could be an attempt by our military to mislead the opponents regarding the time of delivery or the actual availability of C-300 systems to Damascus. This would create an effect of a sudden shock when the crews of “Rivet Joints” and “Raptors” see for the first time on the panels of their electronic support measures systems 55000 or AN/ALR-94 the signals indicating engagement of the low-altitude search and acquisition radar CLAM SHELL 76H6, long-range surveillance radar BIG BIRD 64H4 and tracking and missile guidance radar TOMB STONE 30H6E. This could force the coalition to completely change the tactics of the future missile attacks, which, in its turn, will postpone the next attack and allow for further improvement in the Syrian air defense capabilities. Importantly, the Air Force of the US and Israel will not be able to detect the presence of S-300 systems until they start working.

For example, missile launchers 5P85SD(SE) with radars 30H6E, 76H6 with their 5H63S(54K6E) command post could be located on the eastern slope of the mountain ridge of Lubnan ash-Sharquiyah under the cover of the all-purpose camouflage systems UBM-1/2 and frameless camouflage “Shatyor”, which reduce manifold the radar and infrared signatures as well as visibility for aerial and space surveillance in the radar and visual modes. The mountain ridge also serves as a natural “screen” hiding the presence of S-300 from AN/ZPY-2 Multi-Platform Radar Technology Insertion Program sensors on “Global Hawks”, which survey the territory west of the Lubnan ash-Sharquiyah mountains.

When the command post 54K6E receives from early warning and control aircraft Beriev A-50 (MAINSTAY) and the space surveillance system the information about the launch of the enemy cruise missiles from the sea or air platforms, within 20 min all the elements of the complex can deploy at the predetermined positions, get ready in 5 min, and wait until “Tomahawk” or other attacking elements, including low-altitude airplanes, reach the target detection and missile range of the complex.

It is likely that the Syrian crews for S-300 will be trained to act in the mode “deploy-do the job-withdraw from the position”, with the emphasis on the minimization of the time the systems operate in the zone of activity of the enemy radar surveillance. It would be rather stupid to waste expensive self-guiding anti-aircraft missiles to intercept ordinary anti-radiation missiles AGM-88E AARGM when there could be 200 of those just in one wing of F/A-18E/F “Super Hornet” strike aircraft! A relative safety of the S-300 group in Syria could only be ensured by using the tactics of “fast massive intercepts and change of position”, since the Israel and US Air Force, which have complete numerical superiority, could attack each complex with literally hundreds of high precision weapons (from small diameter precision guided glide bomb “Spice 250” and GRU-53/B to cruise missiles AGM-84H SLAM-ER and “Popeye-II”).

A separate issue is the inflatable models of the S-300 elements, which could be provided to the engineer-camouflage units of the Syrian Arab Army.

These models, which could be installed very quickly, have the optic characteristics and the surface dispersion similar to that of the real launch units, radars and command post of the S-300 system. These models would confuse practically any air surveillance system from Global Hawk to the Boing E-8C-based JSTARS (Joint Surveillance and Target Detection System) equipped with the most advanced scanned array radars AN/ZRY-2 MP-RTIP and AN/APY-3. By using high frequency centimeter X-range and the synthetic aperture mode, these radars are capable of producing very high-resolution images allowing for classification and, in some cases, identification of the land and sea surface objects. However, inflatable models are able to fool even these radars but only until the radar of the real complex becomes active.

Now let us talk about the most “piquant” technical details, which cause a feeling of fear and uncertainty in fighter pilots of the US and Israel Air Force.

The thing is that considering how secret the process of delivery of the S-300 complexes to Syria is, neither Tel-Aviv nor Washington is likely to be able to figure our the modification of these complexes. And there could be no less than 3 of those.

The most likely modification to be delivered is S-300PMU-2 “Favourit” (GARGOYLE). This is the most advanced version with the improved command post 54K6E2 equipped with better control unit 53P6-2 based on new software base. In contrast to the older command post 54K6E, the new unit allows for the integration of the S-300 command post with practically any air defense network, which are still centered on automated control system “Baikal-1ME” and “Polyana-D4M1”. The information and control system of the S-300PMU-2 is the closest to the control 30K6E system of the S-400 “Triumf”, which means that the Syrians crews would be able to receive radar information via Baikals as well as directly via all-altitude radar station RLS 96L6 located in Tartus and Khmeimim.

The best feature of the S-300PMU-2 is the medium range anti-aircraft guided missile 48H6E2 with the range of 200 km. From that point on, everyone inclined to bomb with impunity strategic objects of the Syrian government would have a problem. That is because the tracking and missile guidance radar 30H6E2 located in the equipment container F1M of the S-300PMU-2 has the same working frequency (X range) and energy potential as the 30H6E radar of the S-300PMU-1, which could also be delivered to Damascus. Therefore, even when the S-300 complexes are engaged, the electronic support measures systems like AN/ALR-67(V)3 of “Super Hornets”, SPS-3000 of Israeli F16I “Sufa”, or specialized complexes like 55000 of RC-135W “Rivet Joints” would not be able to distinguish the two modifications. However, the anti-aircraft missiles on these systems are quite different.

For example, a pilot of F/A-18E/F would be taking a risk if he moves within 170 km of S300, since he would have no way of knowing whether the system would use against him anti-aircraft guided missile 48H6E with the 150 km range or 48H6E2 with its 200 km range. The latter would be much harder to avoid, since it has significantly higher maximum height of its trajectory, which means that the slowing effect of the aerodynamic resistance would be felt at a longer distance.

This situation causes serious concern in the Israeli Air Force command, since S-300PMU-2 would provide control of the middle- and high altitudes over the entire air space of Israel all the way to Tel-Aviv.

Deploying the complexes in the mountains regions west of Damascus would widen the range of intercept of the Hel HaAvir aviation and the US Air Force acting from the south and southeast. Anti-aircraft missiles 48H6E and 48H6E2 have unique speed characteristics: in the acceleration range, they accelerate to 6900-7100 km/hour, which leaves very little time for the enemy pilots to execute anti-missile maneuvers. Consequently, Israel’s F16C/D/I stationed at the Ramat David Airbase would be automatically in the range of the Syrian S-300PMU-1/2 immediately after they take off and ascend to several kilometers.

There is also an economy version of S-300 to improve the Syrian air defenses – 75P6 S-300PS introduced to the Russian Air Defense Force in distant 1982. The complex is equipped with an earlier version of the radar 30H6-1, which has the 75-90 km range of detection of a target with the radar signature of 2-3 sq.km. The anti-aircraft missiles have the same range due to low energy properties of the radar, but their speed is essentially the same (hypersonic) as of the later modifications, i.e. 6500 km/h.

The outdated electronics of the command post 5H63C (specifically, the equipment container F2K) does not allow for the intercept of the targets moving faster than 4700 km/h, whereas S-300PMU-1/2 are capable of destroying hypersonic cruise missiles and ballistic targets moving at 10,500 km/h. Hopefully, the American and Israeli Air Force will not be using such weapons in the Syrian war theater, so S-300PS might do. The radar 30H6-1 have 6 channels, the same number as in newer S-300PMU-2, and is capable of tracking up to 100 air targets in the multi-target mode. As a result, the system comprising 6 complexes could simultaneously intercept 36 targets. There is a possibility to coordinate with the different modifications of the automated control systems “Baikal” and Polyana”, which has been confirmed by the official information from the “Almaz-Antey” company.

The only thing that caused some concern before the 14th of April was the minimal detectable radar signature of 0.05 sq.km of the target (as opposed 0.02 sq. km of “Favourit”), since the reflective surface of the missiles used by our opponents in Syria could have been smaller. But the experience proved otherwise.

So, even the good old S-300PS is capable of making thing lively for for “smart and beautiful” missiles of Donald Tramp.

[omniversalobservations]

Anarchy Reigns (2013)

Anarchy Reigns, released in Japan as Max Anarchy, is a PlayStation 3 and Xbox 360 open world beat 'em up video game developed by PlatinumGames, published by Sega, produced by Atsushi Inaba and directed by Masaki Yamanaka. It is a spiritual sequel to the Wii video game MadWorld, and was released on July 5, 2012 in Japan. Sega announced that it released in North America on January 8, in Australia on January 10 and in Europe on January 11, 2013.

Gameplay The player can control one of various types of fighters using extravagant moves, like the decay special, to defeat their opponents. Multiplayer modes are Tag Team, Battle Royale, Death Match, Capture the Flag and Survival. The single player campaign consists of two interwoven plots, Black Side and White Side. Once all of them are completed, the player can go on the Red. Though there are two Red sides depending on which side players can originally chose, the only difference between them are the characters you play as.

Characters The game features seventeen playable characters, plus one additional DLC character. Returning from MadWorld is protagonist Jack Cayman, an agent of the Chaser Guild, who is tasked with finding fugitive Maximillian Caxton at the request of Max's daughter. Competing with Jack to find and capture Max first is Max's former team, the Strike One unit, made up of villainous leader Nikolai Dmitri Bulygin, female agent Sasha Ivanoff and Jack's rival Leonhardt "Leo" Victorion.

Along with Jack, several other MadWorld characters appear, including former final boss the Blacker Baron and his assistant Mathilda, cyborg bull Big Bull Crocker, and Crimson Dragons clan member Rin Rin, now aided by her sisters Fei Rin and Ai Rin. Amala, Jack's partner and radio contact from MadWorld, also returns in a non-playable role. Other playable characters include cyborg bounty-hunting partners Durga and Garuda, cybernetic ninja Zero, junk seller Edgar Oinkie, mutant hunter Douglas Williamsburg, mass-produced combat mech the Gargoyle and Maximillian Caxton himself. Additionally, the titular hero of PlatinumGames' Bayonetta appears as a playable character via downloadable content.

Source: Wikipedia

[theultimatefan]

Mike Grell Selected For Wizard World Hall of Legends

Mike Grell, who since his comics debut in 1973 has brought his own creations and their worlds to life with a cinematic style of visual storytelling, was today named the fourth honoree in the Wizard World Hall of Legends, a new initiative to celebrate the artists, writers and insiders who have built the industry and those continue the traditions. Grell will receive the award at a ceremony at Wizard World Comic Con Chicago on Thursday, August 24, at 7 p.m. on the main entertainment stage at the Donald E. Stephens Convention Center.

Some of his more famed work includes: THE WARLORD for DC COMICS, STARSLAYER for PACIFIC/FIRST COMICS, JON SABLE, FREELANCE  for FIRST COMICS/IDW/COMICMIX/ABC TV, SHAMAN’S TEARS for IMAGE COMICS, BAR SINISTER for ACCLAIM COMICS and MAGGIE THE CAT for IMAGE COMICS.

These, along with successful runs on such features as BATMAN, IRON MAN, GREEN ARROW, JAMES BOND: PERMISSION TO DIE, the TARZAN Sunday comic strip and the internationally acclaimed LONGBOW HUNTERS, have won him the comic industry’s coveted INKPOT AWARD FOR OUTSTANDING ACHIEVEMENT IN COMIC ART. His own SHAMAN’S TEARS has garnered widespread acclaim in the Native American community as a celebration of Indian traditions and lore. In 1999, he published his first novel, SABLE.

Grell recently announced that he will be returning to GREEN ARROW, just in time to celebrate the 30th anniversary of the release of THE LONGBOW HUNTERS. He will be drawing a dozen variant covers for the series, which is published bi-weekly by DC Comics.

''It's an honor to be inducted into the Wizard World Hall of Legends,” said Grell. “My 44 years in the comic industry has allowed me to tell stories and create characters and worlds from pure imagination—I feel as if I've hardly worked a day of it.”

“Mike Grell is a true ‘legend’ of the comics world, and as a longtime frequent guest at our shows, is an extremely worthy honoree in our Wizard World Hall of Legends,” said John D. Maatta, Wizard World President and CEO. “He remains a significant, vibrant figure in the industry after having thrilled millions with his work over more than four decades.”

Grell joins Rob Liefeld, creator of the popular Cable, Deadpool, X-Force and Youngblood franchises, Trina Robbins, the first woman to draw “Wonder Woman,” and Jeff Smith, creator of the famed comic book series Bone, as previous Wizard World Hall of Legends honorees.

The Wizard World Hall of Legends initiative, which will honor one or more figures from the comics world at each convention, is one in a series of enhancements that Wizard World is making in the comics area. Artist Alley in Chicago features a standout lineup of creators, including James O’Barr (“The Crow”), Ben Templesmith (“Fell,” “The Nightmare Factory”), Philip Moy (“Powerpuff Girls,” “Star Trek/Legion of Superheroes”), Jeffrey Moy (“Legionnaires,” “Star Trek”), Steve Geiger (“Spider-man,” “The Incredible Hulk”), Ant Lucia (“DC Bombshells”), Stuart Sayger (“Micronauts,” “The Walking Dead), Des Taylor (“Scarlett Couture,” “DC Bombshells”), Gene Ha (“Top 10,” “The Forty-Niners”), Alex de Campi (“No Mercy,” “Archie vs. Predator”), Clinton Hobart (licensed Disney fine artist), Simon Fraser (“Judge Dredd,” “Nikolai Dante”), Michael Calero (“Tandar” animatronics, “All New Fathom”), Jeremiah Lambert (“Transformers” franchise, “Masters of the Universe”), Dean Haspiel (“Billy Dogma,” “Spider-Man”), Kurt Lehner (“Gargoyles,” “Marvel Action Hour”), Jorge Molina (“Avengers Assemble,” “X-Force”) and many others.

Comics creators at Wizard World Comic Cons are engaging with fans more than ever. The Creative Stage, active throughout every show, provides attendees additional opportunities to interact with artists and writers, with demonstrations, interactive Q&As, informative discussions, art raffles and auctions, learn-to-draw instruction and more.

Wizard World Comic Con events bring together thousands of fans of all ages to celebrate the best in pop culture: movies, television, gaming, live entertainment, comics, sci-fi, graphic novels, toys, original art, collectibles, contests and more. The 10th event scheduled on the 2017 Wizard World calendar, Chicago show hours are Thursday, August 24, 4-9 p.m.; Friday, August 25, noon-7 p.m.; Saturday, August 26, 10 a.m.-7 p.m.; Sunday, August 27, 10 a.m.-4 p.m. Kids 10 and under are admitted free with paid adult.

Wizard World Comic Con Chicago is also the place for cosplay, with fans young and old showing off their best costumes throughout the event. Fans dressed as every imaginable character – and some never before dreamed – will roam the convention floor and participate in the famed Wizard World Costume Contest on Saturday evening.

For more on the 2017 Wizard World Chicago, visit http://wizd.me/ChicagoPR.