#russian mafia

[sunnypopoki]

━ 𝐌𝐔𝐙𝐙𝐋𝐄 : P.1

(𝘠𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘔𝘢𝘧𝘪𝘢 𝘏𝘶𝘴𝘣𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘹 𝘍𝘦𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘦 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳)

𝗦𝗬𝗡𝗢𝗣𝗦𝗜𝗦: 𝘠𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘩𝘶𝘴𝘣𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘶𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘤𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺. 𝘎𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘧𝘰�� 𝘥𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘰𝘯 𝘦𝘯𝘥, 𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘶𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘤𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘱𝘩𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘴, 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘦𝘹𝘵𝘳𝘢 𝘤𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘺 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘯… 𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶? 𝘓𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘥𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸, 𝘪𝘵’𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘧𝘪𝘢 𝘪𝘴 𝘶𝘯𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨.

ᴛᴡ: ɪɴꜱᴇᴄᴜʀᴇ ʀᴇᴀʟɪꜱᴛɪᴄ ꜰᴇᴍᴀʟᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ, ꜰᴏᴜʟ ʟᴀɴɢᴜᴀɢᴇ, ᴍᴀʀʀɪᴇᴅ ʀᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱʜɪᴘ, ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ, ᴍᴀᴛᴜʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇᴍᴇꜱ, ᴏᴠᴇʀᴛʜɪɴᴋɪɴɢ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ, ᴀꜰᴀʙ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ, ᴇᴛᴄ.

ᴛʜɪꜱ ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ ʜᴀꜱ ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ. ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴍᴇᴀɴꜱ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴡɪʟʟ ʙᴇ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴍᴀᴛᴜʀᴇ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ɪɴ ɴᴏ ᴡᴀʏ ᴀ ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ ᴍᴇᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ʀᴏᴍᴀɴᴛɪᴄɪᴢᴇ ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇꜱ, ꜱᴏ ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴅᴏ ꜱᴏ ᴇɪᴛʜᴇʀ. ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ ᴛʜɪꜱ ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ. ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ʀᴇꜱᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴘᴏᴘᴏᴋɪ ᴏɴ ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, Qᴜᴏᴛᴇᴠ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ.

P.2 / P.3

When you first saw him, you were left breathless.

That was years ago though, back when you were a teenager in high school who was only worried about the acne on your forehead and the 'F' you got in your math class. Now, you were preparing to head into college to become a psychiatrist.

You met Kieran as a freshman and started dating him months after. You weren't sure why you started dating him at first, you couldn't remember what he said that left your cheeks on fire, but the feeling next stopped.

Kieran grumbled curses under his breath as he heaved the last of the groceries through the door. His long black hair was messier than normal, tied into a low bun that curled strands around the nape of his neck. His tanned cheeks were red from the cold outside and a button on his shirt was popped open. Did he tousle a bear to get inside? He put the items on the counter and turned to face you.

"The groceries didn't want to come inside," he mumbled.

"You didn't give me a chance to help you carry them in."

His dark green eyes softened. He didn't look at anyone else the same way he did you. There was a time after you got married that you were afraid that he'd leave you because the two of you were yet to be intimate... but he didn't seem to care. You were glad he didn't care. His arms wrapped around your waist and he pressed a chaste kiss against your forehead.

There it was again. Breathless.

"But you've been working all day, Котик," he cooed, his Russian accent thick whenever he muttered the pet name he always used for you. "You deserve to rest."

All you wanted to do was melt into his arms. You couldn't deny that some part of you already was, sinking further into his embrace, eyes closed—but something was amiss.

Ever since high school, Kieran has been odd. He was a transfer student from London but he was born and raised in Russia, so he was always the popular kid in any class he was placed in. Even after he got in trouble multiple times for delinquent behavior. Sure, his behavior was better than what he was in high school and he was mature, but he was a lot more secretive now. So secretive that he refused to tell you where he went whenever he disappeared for "business trips" for days on end.

Now, you were a trusting wife, but you weren't naive. He worked as an editor for authors and yet he disappeared for days on end because of work? Even a baby could realize that was odd!

That wasn't the only thing though.

You've only been married to Kieran for six months but you were already starting to see signs that he wasn't entirely focused on the marriage anymore. Whenever his phone rang, he scrambled to pick it up before you had a chance to answer it for him. On the days you scheduled to go on dates together, he always arrived late with his clothes tousled about and his hair was undone. Late, late, late! He always seemed to be late for every activity the two of you scheduled together. Of course, he'd apologize over and over again, but the behavior never changed.

So maybe he did look at someone else the same way he did you. The thought left a bitter taste on your tongue.

Is he cheating on me?

It was a thought you never thought you'd have with Kieran. Whenever the two of you were dating in high school, he was loyal to a fault. You couldn't erase the memory of whenever a girl started smack-talking you and he yanked her hard so hard that a chunk of hair came from the roots. Even now, looking at him and being held by him, the thought felt distant. But it was there. That gnawing worry got worse and worse each time he got a call, text message, or left the house.

Well, who'd he be cheating on you with? He refused to have female friends in school because he always claimed that you were the only "woman" he wanted in his life. Of course, you didn't care if he had female friends or not, but you doubted it was someone the two of you knew from high school.

Your jaw clenched. Maybe he's bothered I haven't been intimate with him and he's been going to see someone?

The bitter taste worsened. Making out and slight touches wasn't the same as sex, you knew that, which is why you were so nervous to do it, even if it was with him. He never rushed you and he hadn't ever made comments about it. You listened to the thudding of his heart against his chest and pursed your lips.

You couldn't bring yourself to ask him if he was cheating on you. What if he said yes? What if he wasn't and left you because he thought you were a psycho? What if he lied and continued to cheat? Your hands scrunched up the fabric of his shirt as you hugged him tighter. You didn't want your first love to cause you heartbreak by something as revolting as cheating.

A cold hand pressed against your cheek. Kieran tilted your head back and his eyes flickered across your face. His brow creased in worry.

"Are you okay?"

No, not really. I'm worried you might be cheating on me.

But you couldn't say that.

"Yeah! I'm fine," you beamed and pulled him closer to you. "I just missed you, that's all. It was your day off but you've been out doing errands since this morning. You first went to the pharmacy to get our medicine, then the bank, then to get groceries... aren't you tired?"

He didn't look convinced. Then again, he'd known you since you were fourteen years old, so he knew how to read you like a book. His green eyes darkened momentarily and his teeth nipped at his bottom lip. His fingers traced lines above your cheekbone, jaw, and the shell of your ear.

"I'm sorry. I should have spent more time with you today."

"No, Kieran, what are you even saying? Errands need to be run so I'm appreciative that you did them," your hands fiddled at the button that came undone on his shirt. "That can't stop me from missing you though. I just feel as if you've been..."

His fingers stopped. "What?"

You regretted saying anything at all. You should have just said you missed him after a long day and went on with it, dragged him to the couch, and asked him to watch a movie with you. Your hands pulled away from his shirt and you saw the way his body tensed up like a spring. It wasn't too late to change the conversation. Maybe lie to him and say it was just a joke, that you weren't really worried. No, no, that'd be an asshole thing to do to your spouse, to make them worry you for nothing.

"(Y/N)?"

He never says your name unless he's serious or mad. Your eyes dragged back up to meet his and his jaw was clenched. He didn't look mad, he looked worried. Almost like you just punched him in the gut and he was doing his best to stay upright.

Why did he look like that? Based on all your rushing thoughts, worried about the possibility of him cheating on you, you were the one who was struggling.

"...I just feel as if you have been distant lately," you confessed with a tight smile, "but it's okay. I know you've been busy with work and I've been busy with getting ready for my upcoming lectures next week. I'm probably just being clingy again."

He didn't say anything. You weren't sure if you were supposed to feel hurt that he said nothing or relieved, but you knew that he didn't buy a single thing you just said by the way he was looking at you. He wasn't moving from the position he had on you; hand on your cheek, tense jaw, stiff muscles, darkened gaze. He breathed slowly out through his nose and opened his mouth to say something, but then shut it.

You saw a flicker of something else in his eyes whenever he closed his mouth. Guilt.

Why does he feel guilty? you thought, dread creeping up your spine. Am I right? Is he cheating on me?

You blinked in surprise whenever he pulled you into him again. His nose nuzzled into your neck and you almost suffocated with how tight his arms wrapped around you. His lips pressed little kisses against your neck and he breathed in deeply. For a split second, you almost forgot what you were so nervous about, you almost let the worry of him cheating on you slip from your mind.

"Котик, I'm sorry you've felt so lonely. I'll be able to spend more time with you soon. It's just... work, it gets in the way of so much. But I swear, I'll be able to hang out with you tomorrow without doing anything. I promise, okay?" he let go and cupped your cheeks, "me and you can do whatever you want to do for tonight. A date? I'll do it. Go to bed early? As long as you're in my arms. Anything."

Lies were best told with a sweet tongue. You weren't even sure if he meant well by telling you that, not whenever this wasn't the first time he'd promised something like this. In the end, he always got a call which caused him to leave the house for a couple hours (or sometimes a couple of days). You were used to it by now, so you only forced a smile and nodded. His face lit up.

"We can go ahead and watch a movie now if you want?"

You blinked. Now? He usually put things off whenever it came down to sitting down and watching something. You refrained from glancing at the clock. You wanted to spend time with him but you were already fearful of how much time you could before he was called away or got distracted with something. You couldn't remember the last time you sat down and watched something with him. Though, you supposed it was better than him not being there.

"And what movie do you want to watch?"

He grinned. "I believe I said whatever you want. Maybe we can watch a horror movie? So I can..." he twirled you around and hugged you from behind, "wrap my arms around you like this and protect you from evil. Hm?"

You felt your cheeks warm. "That sounds just like an excuse to hold me."

"I'm your husband, I don't need an excuse for something like that," he kissed your cheek. "truthfully, I adore it whenever you depend on me. That includes each time there's a jumpscare and you almost shit your pants each time."

"Ha. Ha. Very funny. I don't get that scared."

"You cried when we watched The Haunting of Hill House together."

"Okay, there's a difference between a demon that you can't fight and some serial killer breaking into your house! I'd rather take the serial killer. Plus, that was years ago when it first came out and it was a sad show."

You didn't miss the way his jaw clenched ever so slightly. Maybe the term 'odd' wasn't the best way to describe him with the way he has been acting recently. After the two of you graduated high school, he started to get touchy about certain topics about crime. He always had a fascination with crime back when he was a teenager in high school, but the topic suddenly became grim for him whenever he got older.

You weren't sure why. Honestly, you've never asked. The topic wasn't something you'd be able to bring up with ease, especially when he tried to change the topic each time someone wanted to talk about true crime or the news with him. You remembered that he was worried when he found out you were going to school to become a therapist... worried that you'd get stuck with a patient who did bad things.

You didn't even want to get into how paranoid he was about the police. That was a different topic entirely.

"I find something real to be much more terrifying than a fictional ghost," he murmured.

"But demons could be real!"

There was a long pause. You felt his muscles churn around you, squeezing you tighter, refusing to let you go and he mumbled seriously. "Promise me that if anyone broke into our house and you had to pick between going with them or a demon, you'd go with the demon."

"What are you on about?" you deadpanned, "I thought were talking about movies, and Kieran, I doubt a scenario like that would ever happen."

"Promise me, (Y/N). Demon or not,  you won't go with anyone who breaks into our house."

Your eyes narrowed. "Keiran, I don't have to promise you something that is common sense. I obviously won't be going with anyone who breaks into our house. You act like you think someone will."

He huffed and let go. The warmth of his embrace leaving left goosebumps all over your body. You didn't get a chance to say anything before he flashed a blinding smile, chuckling.

"I was just making sure. You've always been a daredevil, so I just wanted to make sure you wouldn't try and challenge anyone who barged into our house. I doubt anyone would break in anyway."

It was only natural that you didn't believe him. There were a lot of stories where people said that their partners changed after marriage, sometimes for the better or the worse, and you weren't sure if Kieran's change was good or bad. His paranoid nature only made it hard to believe that he wasn't cheating on you. He was clingy before he married you, but he was overly clingy and sweet now. Which was odd because he was often out of the house or on phone calls...

It was just, well, odd.

"Oh... okay then. Do you need help putting up the groceries before we watch a movie?"

"No need, Котик. You can prepare the movie for us to watch. Choose anything you want."

There was a game you played. Each time you noticed Kieran avoid looking you in the eye, you took three gulps of breath. It was mostly a game you played to calm yourself down from the rush of anxiety you felt each time he did. It left you wondering if you did something wrong, if you made him pissed and he didn't want to look at you anymore. Your lips curled into a frown.

He could just be watching a movie so I wouldn't complain about missing him.

You nodded silently and turned on your heel. It would be best to ignore that entire conversation happened. Worrying over his suspicious and paranoid behavior wouldn't change the fact that he was acting that way. You glanced at him one more time as he placed the milk into the fridge. Yeah. Don't worry about it. Just don't worry.

The living room was down the hallway to the left. The floorboards squealed at the weight and you sighed whenever you walked to the couch, picking up the remote and turning it on.  The two of you didn't have a lot of streaming services so almost everything you watched was on Netflix. Your fingers tapped around and you absentmindedly scrolled through the list of movies.

You were tempted to throw on a movie that you already watched. However, it was supposed to be time spent together and you knew he'd get bored if you clicked something that he had already watched. You clicked a random scary movie. The name was confusing and it looked like a found-footage aesthetic, something about the catacombs under Paris and the philosopher's stone.

"I'm sure he hasn't watched this..."

"Watched what?"

You jumped whenever he clamped a hand on your shoulder. Whipping around on the sofa, Kieran was leaning over the back with a sly smirk on his face.

"Already scared?" he chuckled, "I have a gut feeling you're going to be clinging to me throughout this entire movie."

You pursed your lips. He already got all the groceries done that fast? You knew that he didn't like to waste time but he was insanely fast doing that. He massaged your shoulders whenever he noticed the frown you had, his smile growing wider by the second. He jumped over the back of the couch effortlessly and plopped down right beside you.

"Why are you frowning, my sweet Котик?"

"You got done way too fast with putting the groceries away" you squinted. "It's not normal."

He inhaled. There was a rasp in the back of his throat whenever he leaned forward, his breath tickling your skin. The air was knocked from your lungs whenever his gaze flickered to your lips and back up to yours. "Would you believe me if I told you that I have been craving to be close to you? Especially to kiss you..."

Heat crept up the back of your neck. All the worries you had melted away whenever he pulled you closer to him and wrapped his arm around your shoulders. He wasn't avoiding your eyes, now he was staring so intently that you were afraid that you were going to become a puddle of goo in his arms. His teeth nipped at your bottom lip.

"Mm, can I kiss you?"

"...do you have to ask?"

He chuckled breathlessly, "Yes. It's polite."

"But you're my husband."

"Yes, I am."

His lips smashed against yours. Anything you wanted to say was thrown out the window whenever his hands gripped your waist and yanked your body against his. His hand brushed up your spine, up your neck, brushing over your hair and going to cup your face. His lips were cold and his nose was too, breath smelling like the mint gum he always seemed to chew. The hint of his cologne tickled your nose.

Your hands ran up his arms and you tugged at the collar of his shirt. He was still a ruffled mess from when he came in from outside. His hair was a knotted mess that needed to be brushed out, but that didn't stop your hands from tangling in the strands and tugging at them. A groan tore through his lips.

"God, you're so fucking perfect," he whispered against your lips. "I don't want to stop kissing you now. Mmm, do we have to watch the movie? I want to give you more kisses."

You almost agreed. "...But the movie is already waiting to be played."

He licked his teeth and his hands ran up and down your back. He swallowed and you noticed the dip of his adam's apple, his eyes staring at your lips again. "Of course, we should watch the movie, but..."

"But what?"

"Can I kiss you even more after the movie?"

The fire in your cheeks felt like your skin was melting off. There were times when it felt like you were in high school again, getting all flustered because of his needy nature. Ever since you have known him he has always been the type to enjoy kisses. Even something as chaste as a peck on the forehead, he was a sucker for it. Whenever the two of you first started dating, he'd get so red each time you kissed his cheek, stammering over nothing and quickly kissing your cheek back and scurrying away.

Now look at him. He was pulling you in, begging for more, kissing you like you were his only source of oxygen. He even kissed you like that on your wedding day. His entire family was whooping and cheering after that, and your few family members who attended frowned. You remembered being embarrassed at the time... but you were glad that something like that didn't change.

"Very well. You can kiss me all you want after the movie. Don't try and sneak some in while we are watching, because then you won't focus on the movie at all," you mumbled.

"You're flustered so easily, Котик," he grinned. He leaned into the couch and placed his arm around the back, fiddling with your sleeve as he rested his cheek against your head. "But fineeee. I guess I'll obey your orders for now."

You chuckled and rolled your eyes. It only took you a couple of seconds for you to get comfortable and curl into his side, shuffling to find the remote as he tugged a blanket over you both. You never got an answer on if he watched it before or not but by the way his eyes were glued to the screen whenever you clicked play, you assumed not.

Time became a blur. Now and again he'd comment on the movie or just something toward you, but his arm never moved from its spot behind you. He curled his legs up on the couch and mumbled complaints under his breath whenever he saw the characters do something stupid.

You started to forget your anxieties. Even just for a short while, it was nice to relax with him and to feel him close without having to worry about him leaving to go on some 'business trip'. You were focusing on him too much to even care about the movie. The way his lips formed a thin line whenever he was annoyed, his rapid blinking each time something shocking happened, bouncing his leg up and down.

It was impossible to not love him.

He noticed you staring. His cheeks turned a little pink. "What?"

"Nothing."

His ego would explode if you told him you were staring at him just because he was fun to watch. Hearing his endless teasing wasn't something you were in the mood to hear, so you just feigned looking back at the movie to watch it. His eyes burned into the side of your head for a second long before he looked back to the screen.

You glanced back at him. He was sucked into the TV again. He chewed on the edge of his knuckle and you let your eyes wander. You stared at the tattoos that peeked out from under his collar and sleeve. All those colorful tattoos were hidden away. He had some of them before you met him, which you always found surprising that he had tattoos at such a young age, but he just said "It ran in the family".

It was addicting to trace your fingers over them. Kieran liked laying around shirtless whenever it was summer. You always used to visit his old apartment to sit with him and let him read his books while you doodled on his arms and called them 'new tattoos' while you colored in his blank tattoos. Butterflies fluttered whenever you remembered the way he smiled at you each time you drew on him.

He had so many tattoos that you weren't sure how many he had. Some were in Russian, but a lot of them were creatures from folklore and mythology. Like Baba Yaga, who came from Slavic Folklore, which was tattooed on his right hip. You always used to doodle accessories onto her face.

"Котик, are you going to continue staring at me or are you going to watch the movie?"

You quickly avoided his gaze and looked at the TV. "I am watching the movie."

"Surreee."

Everything was fine for a while. A while, you said, because it didn't take long for all that built-up hope and affection to come back down from its high. Soon enough you'd be feeling the withdrawal. You were in the middle of watching the characters climb through a tunnel of bones whenever a phone started to ring loudly. It bounced off the walls and jarred Kieran out of his trance.

Ring! Ring! Ring!

Your smile fell. Kieran cursed.

The arm slung around your shoulder tensed, his hand curling into a fist that turned his knuckles white. His jaw flexed, and the phone rang for a couple more seconds before he moved from the couch and grabbed his phone from the cushion.

It was bad luck. You were convinced that you were cursed with bad luck. A sour taste bubbled in your chest and coated your tongue. Biting at the inside of your cheek, you shut the TV off completely as that swell of expectation came back. The remote was tossed to the side and the blanket slipped to the floor.

You caught a glimpse of the phone screen before he answered it. UNKNOWN. Of course, it was another random number that he didn't have saved to his contacts. You clutched the blanket in your lap and a lump formed in your throat. Seriously? Why were you going to cry? You knew that he wouldn't be focused on you forever. It also wasn't like you knew he was cheating on you, you had no proof, it was just a suspicion. But that didn't stop the familiar sting of tears welling up behind your eyes.

You knew it was a lie whenever he promised to spend the rest of the day with you, you weren't sure why you let your hopes get up. But it still hurt.

He pressed the device to his ear and snapped.

"What?"

Just who was it that made him sound like that? You've never heard him sound so hateful, so nasty, to just some random caller on the phone. That meant he knew who was calling him even when the number popped up. The random person he didn't have saved in his phone. Someone he possibly didn't want to be linked to.

Thousands of questions tumbled through your mind. Kieran wasn't interested in men, so if he was cheating, it wasn't a man... unless he was interested in men and hasn't told you? He has a lot of male friends. No, no, having friends of any gender doesn't just mean that you'll sleep with them or have a second life with them behind your partner. So if it was a woman... where would he have met her? Maybe it was a client and he was editing her book?

He did read a lot of articles. There was always the possibility that it was a writer of those, right? Wait—

I'm not being a good wife right now, you thought. Your nails picked at your cuticles. I'm just assuming things without any proof. Am I being like one of those psychotic, obsessive wives? Is there something wrong with me? What if I'm the issue?

Your bottom lip wobbled. You clamped your teeth on it to keep Kieran from noticing.

He started to pace and ramble around the room in Russian. He didn't seem to be talking to anyone, mostly to himself in frustration, as his hand was placed on his hip and he cursed under his breath. There were many times in your life when you wished you knew Russian; when you first met him, to impress him, to have conversations with him, to learn his culture and language... now you were more concerned if he was frustrated about a girl or not.

The only Russian word you knew that he actively said around you was 'Котик', a Russian term of endearment meant for a lover which meant "kitten" or "kitty". You didn't need to jump leaps to guess what it meant even if it was a somewhat cheesy term to use (at least in your opinion), but you never argued, since he has called you it since the two of you were teenagers.

"I thought I told you to—"

Kieran cut himself off quickly whenever he realized you were still in the room with him. He dragged the phone away from his ear and his eyes snapped to you, his face falling into despair whenever he noticed the TV was off and you were staring up at him. Another broken promise. Another lie. Another phone call he just had to pick up, that he couldn't ignore for one night. Just how many more broken promises were you going to take before you finally asked him why he couldn't keep them?

Damn it. You really wanted to cry.

Even if it wasn't him cheating on you, even if it was work, some part of you wished that he included you in it as well. You were aware that you weren't supposed to be in every single part of his life. The two of you were supposed to be comfortable in the relationship, not joined at the hip breathing down each other's necks.

You just didn't get it. It wasn't like 'work' was going to straight up kill him if he didn't answer the phone for one night!

Kieran didn't know what to do. He stopped dead in his tracks and stared at you with so many open emotions on his face that you couldn't read all of them. But he knew what he had done. He picked up the phone and that alone was enough to break a promise, even if he hadn't left the house. Yet. You knew how it worked—he always left the house after late phone calls like this. You were slowly starting to get used to the feeling of falling asleep without him there. And some mornings, he wasn't in bed either, only a note left on the counter with breakfast he made.

His shoulders sank. "Котик, I... uhm, I need to take this phone call real quick so I'm going to step into the other room, okay? I'll be right back though and me and you can finish the movie—"

Liar.

"Uhm... I think I'm just going to go to bed. I'm starting to feel tired anyway. Uh, make sure to lock the door behind you whenever you go out."

He always did. You weren't sure why you were reminding him.

Deep down, some part of you wanted him to feel guilty. It was that small whisper of hope that if he felt guilty then maybe he'd start changing things for the better, to start telling you why he was so secretive, and to start sleeping in your bed again. You missed the feeling of his arms wrapped around you. Sure, some nights he did fall asleep in your bed. But some nights weren't most nights, and most nights weren't every night.

I miss a man who's right in front of me.

His entire expression crumpled. He opened his mouth to say something but faltered, watching as you got up and threw the blanket the two of you were sharing back on the couch. Oh how badly he looked like he wanted to say something. And how badly you felt about yourself whenever you saw his expression, because seeing him feel guilty didn't bring satisfaction, it only made your heart hurt more.

"(Y/N), I—"

"It's okay," you flashed a smile, "I'll talk to you tomorrow morning."

If he'd be there tomorrow morning.

You didn't give him a chance to respond before you turned on your heel and scurried to the bedroom. The house which you picked with him seven months ago now felt cold and lonely compared to the warm idea you had when you first saw it. Tears sprung forth whenever you closed the door behind you, choking into your elbow as you did your best to muffle the small sobs that let your lips. You couldn't hear him anymore or the muffled rambling over the phone.

The room was dark. The floorboards were ice cold and you didn't bother to brush your teeth, wash your face, or change into pajamas before you crawled under the covers and hid.

Emotions were a complicated thing. You hated how they felt and how it was so hard to understand them. All you wanted was for Kieran to come to you and have a conversation about what was going on, but now you were dreading that he would because you didn't want him to see that you were crying. He always got so panicked whenever you cried. Always brushing away your tears, cooing sweet things in your ear, kissing your face and neck anywhere he could.

Which made you wish he did see you cry.

See? Emotions were complicated.

You don't know how long you laid in bed. You only heard the whir and popping of heat rushing through the vents, warming up the room until you were toasty under the thick blankets. There were times when you swore you heard a shout from the other room, muffled and something you couldn't understand, but then it was gone. Possibly a figment of your imagination, maybe it was Kieran shouting over the phone.

Your day started with a good start. Then everything deescalated in a whirlwind of emotions that you didn't know how to control. All the suspicions you had about Kieran were becoming worse and worse.

If he is cheating on me, you thought. What would I do?

The idea of divorcing him left your heart aching. Ever since you started dating him, you've never wanted to leave him, but cheating would mean you'd have to. While you loved him, you didn't love him enough to stay if he was living some second life with another woman. You gnawed on the edge of your thumb and curled your legs up to your chest.

If you divorced him, you'd have to find somewhere cheap to stay where you could still go to college and not sleep in the streets. No way your parents would let you stay with them until you got back onto your feet, they didn't like you marrying Kieran in the first place because of his delinquent behavior in school and the fact he wasn't going to college. They'd probably tell you 'I told you so' and let you rot.

The part-time job you had now wasn't enough to live in a decent apartment. The two of you lived on the outskirts of the city,  you wouldn't be able to afford a good apartment in the city closest to campus so you would have to settle in one of the apartment complexes near the beat-down part of the city, where a lot of reports of trafficking and crime were made.

A shiver shot down your spine. While the apartments there weren't the cleanest or nicest, the issue of rampant crime was the most concerning. You'd have to buy a taser or pepper spray, something like that. Or learn martial arts? You'd have to find a teacher that wasn't expensive.

Why am I even thinking about this?

Guilt crashed into you like a barreling stampede of horses. Tears blurred your vision as you nuzzled into the pillow and whimpered, muttering soft apologies under your breath. You hated how your mind worked. One thought and you'd take it and run, not giving the chance for hope and optimism to spark. You had to remind yourself for the umpteenth time that you didn't have any proof that Kieran was cheating.

You were the bad one for treating him like he was whenever you didn't know. At least, that was what you believed. Other wives acted better than you. They trusted their partners, but here you were, already daydreaming about your life if Kieran was cheating on you. Just a was.

Soft footsteps broke you from your thoughts.

The door creaked open and light poured into the dark. You stayed still under the blankets, face hidden away in the pillows to keep the sight of your tear-streaked face away from him. The floorboards creaked a little bit the bed shifted whenever you felt him sit down and lean across. His familiar touch grazed your cheek and traced the contours of your face. He sighed.

"Котик, are you awake?"

You didn't respond. Not this time.

He tugged the blankets down and there was another sigh. His fingers trailed farther downward and rubbed circles on your back and patterns that only he understood. He mumbled under his breath to himself. "She didn't change into something comfortable... not even the belt."

It took everything in your power to not move whenever his fingers fiddled with the metal clasp of your belt and he slipped them from the loops. He put the belt on the other side of the bed and the mattress shifted whenever he got closed, strands of his hair tickling your cheek whenever he leaned over. He pressed a kiss on your jaw.

"Ah fuck," he grumbled.

What is that supposed to mean?

Then there were more kisses; jaw, cheek, forehead, lips. He attacked you in kisses and every now and again he'd sigh and stop to trail his hands across your head or over your back. You could tell he refreshed his cologne. It was subtle but it was there, tickling your nose each time he moved to kiss another part of your face.

"Котик, if you're awake, I'll be back tomorrow evening and we can watch all the movies you want. I'm sorry I'm heading out again, but some people at work are being really stupid right now," he whispered against your ear. He kissed it tenderly. "I'll buy you your favorite ice cream on the way back home too. I know you'll be happy with that..."

There was a long pause. He didn't move.

"I love you."

Maybe he waited for you to respond, to say 'I love you' back, but you didn't. It wasn't that you didn't love him... god, the one reason why everything hurt so much was that you did, but you didn't dare to confess that you were pretending to sleep just to avoid talking to him. You didn't want Kieran to hear your voice cracking from crying. Especially since now, you knew he was leaving the house again.

You didn't believe him when he said it was work and you felt guilty that you didn't. He was an editor, he worked from home or his rented-out office, and it wasn't like he had people who worked underneath him.

"Котик, I'll make it up to you, I promise," he whispered.

He didn't say anything else except for a lingering kiss on your temple before he got off the bed. The weight of his body leaving felt more familiar than him being there. Kieran blew a breath and muttered something in Russian before he left the room. The door clicked shut behind him and you were left in the dark alone once more.

The emotions you felt earlier surged back up to the surface. Your nails bit into your palms and tears trickled down your cheeks and dropped onto the pillow. All you wanted was for him to get in bed with you, hold you, fall asleep, and still be there whenever you woke up the next morning.

So instead of facing them and bawling, you swallowed the lump in your throat and closed your eyes. Sleeping it off was better than facing it. Soon enough, you'd find out what he was hiding and what this "work" meant. Your small cries were muffled as you did your best to fall asleep before you got too heavy into your thoughts and cried even harder.

Luckily for you, sadness was exhausting, and you crashed before the clock hit midnight.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

A/N ;

So you might have noticed the reader isn’t a Mary Sue or know it all. I tried to make her realistic, someone who’s insecure in her relationship, etc. So I hope that came across well. If you don’t like her, remember she’s human, she can change and develop in the story. She isn’t going to be perfect.

But anyway, did you enjoy this first chapter? You can also find it on my Wattpad and Quotev, which is listed on the top of my account. My discord server is also listed there! Remember to comment and heart if you enjoyed it.

[ Read P.2 ]

[odinsblog]

Dang. Idk if anyone has ever laid out Donald Trump’s entanglement with Russia sO clearly.

If you’ve had enough of watching the Trump clowns defending Trump & white supremacy, the Sutori link is definitely worth reading. It is a very enlightening, detailed and comprehensive timeline that puts Trump’s very very long history with Russian mobsters into sharp perspective.

👉🏿 https://www.sutori.com/story/timeline-you-might-be-interested-in--pTTyLH39r7FsRtF51JZi4BVt

👉🏿 https://forensicnews.net/trump-deutsche-bank-loans-underwritten-by-russian-state-owned-bank-whistleblower-told-fbi/

[hitoshi-yuuto]

Haikyuu rich kids AU

AU where some of the characters are rich kids

They have known each other since their childhood, because they hung out in the same social circle (Rich kids)

Hinata Shouyou

- Son of the richest man in the world, makes him the second richest person in the world.

-Spoiled kid born with a diamond spoon in his mouth, Tends to spend money as if he had it infinitely (which is the case)

-He didn't have any friends when he was younger because everyone was after he's money, he created a false identity in high school and was able to have his first real friends (Karasuno)

-His language of love is giving gifts, he doesn't know how to show his love otherwise.

-He bought the Karasuno High School to donate more funds to the volleyball clubs

- Is better at volleyball than in the canon since he has been playing since he was a kid with his friends, and he pays volleyball players to teach him.

-He fell in love with Kageyama when Karasuno learned that he was rich and that Kageyama's only reaction was: All I care about are your volleyball skills.

Sakusa Kiyoomi

- Coming from a family of famous doctors/hospital directors and son of the CEO of most of the greatest pharmaceutical companies and laboratories around the world.

-He and Sachirō support each other as people who don't want to follow in their family's footsteps.

-Even if he doesn't want to become a doctor, it runs through his veins and he's very good at it.

-He and Shouyou were best friends until they were 13 years old, since then they say they hate each other but we all know it's a lie.

-When he fell in love he thought he was sick, it put all the hospitals on alert.

Komori Motoya

-Son of the mania of the restaurant and food industry in the world.

-Loves to take friends to great restaurants

-Is a fine cook

-Spend his time inviting Kiyoomi and Atsumu to great romantic restaurants.

-He is the sponsor of Onigiri miya

Semi Eita

- Son of the Emperor of Japan, his family is everywhere in Japanese politics, his father is also the owner of seven of the biggest car brands.

-One day someone annoyed him, and he got him kicked out of the country, don't annoy the next emperor.

-Surprisingly his family supports his dream of being a singer, his aunt says that it will make a great image of him when he becomes emperor.

-Spend his time mocking Shirabu saying that he is going to become his empress.

Lev Haiba

- Son and heir of the most powerful mafia in the world

- As kill someone for the first time when he was eight years old.

- When they are old enough, he and Alisa will share the mafia as co-leaders

-He lived in Russia for the first 10 years of his life, before moving to Japan to be protected from a war, then decided to stay in Japan until he was 18 years old because he liked it so much. (Help Alisa manage the Japanese branch)

- Having grown up in the mafia world his standards are very different, he will be able to talk seriously about torturing someone while smiling.

-Also better at volleyball for the same reason as Hinata

-He confessed to Yaku at graduation, he expected a rejection and then panicked when Yaku told him yes, "you had to say no I'm a mobster I've killed people!" Yaku still said yes and if seven years later he finds himself killing someone to protect Lev it's between Lev and him alone. (Lev was devastated to have let Yaku dirty hands)

Hirugami Sachirō

- Son of the most famous volleyball player, his family is filled with super famous celebrities.(Lots of actors)

- One word from him and your reputation is ruined

- He has seen, heard, and done too many things, even if the end of the world comes tomorrow, he won't blink twice.

-He has a LOT of followers on his social media

-He's the reason Hoshiumi is the most followed volleyball player on the internet.

Yahaba Shigeru

-His parents run a really popular clothing chain in Japan.

-He was not born rich, his parents became rich when he was like twelve, He was then thrown into the lion's cage that are the rich children, and he was adopted by the group of weirdos above

-Being the only one who didn't grow up from this background, he is the only one with a real conscience, if you ask him he'll say that he is a babysitter.

-Aoba johsai seriously wonder how he manages Kyoutani, Yahaba will answer that compared to the six psychopaths he is simple.

When they met

Shouyo Kiyoomi & Motoya 4/5 years old

Eita & Sachirō 8/7/6 years old

Lev 10/11/12

Shigeru 12/11/13

Sorry for the mistakes, English is not my first language 😅

[anotherthoughtthatwillhauntme]

Jayden: If I die, you’ll miss me.

Vaughn: If you die, it’ll be because you walked into traffic while explaining space dust to a random stranger.

Jayden: ...It’s stardust, Vaughn. Show some respect.

P.s: I can’t stop imagining these two together, so now you’re stuck with my perfectly chaotic thoughts. I don’t make the rules; I just follow my obsessions.

[jamieees]

This is soo Taejoo and Zhenya Coded y'all 🥹🥹🌝🌝

✧｡⁠*⁠♡🐊🐇✧｡⁠*⁠♡

[arinaolan]

« ANYONE COULD BECOME A NATIONAL HERO. BUT NOT YOU. 🦉»

[andarthas-web]

Unexpected consequences of John Wick fanfic

A short while ago, my family and I went to the local thermal baths for a day of rest and relaxation. There was a group of bulky, tough looking guys there, with tattoos. Now, seeing people with tattoos at the thermal baths or at the swimming pool is fairly normal around here, this isn't Japan after all, so nobody blinked an eye, but I'm pretty sure that most people didn't realize that these guys were sporting Russian Mafia tattoos....and given that having those if you haven't earned them can get you in big trouble, I'm fairly certain they were genuine. So yeah, there's at least one moderately high-ranking Russian Mobster (recognizable by the stars on each shoulder) who likes visiting the local thermal baths together with some of his crew. And he'll never know that I knew because of very smutty John Wick fanfic. XD XD XD

Source

[hopefultigress]

If he is a red flag then I am colour blind 👩🏻‍🦯👩🏻‍🦯👩🏻‍🦯👩🏻‍🦯👩🏻‍🦯👩🏻‍🦯

[trump666traitor]

[sunnypopoki]

— 𝐌𝐔𝐙𝐙𝐋𝐄 ; P.3

(𝘠𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘔𝘢𝘧𝘪𝘢 𝘏𝘶𝘴𝘣𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘹 𝘍𝘦𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘦 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳)

𝗦𝗬𝗡𝗢𝗣𝗦𝗜𝗦: 𝘒𝘪𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘯 𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘮𝘦𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘦’𝘴 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘺 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮 𝘰𝘧 𝘢 𝘥𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘮𝘮𝘢 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘵.

ᴛᴡ: ɪɴꜱᴇᴄᴜʀᴇ ʀᴇᴀʟɪꜱᴛɪᴄ ꜰᴇᴍᴀʟᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ, ꜰᴏᴜʟ ʟᴀɴɢᴜᴀɢᴇ, ᴍᴀʀʀɪᴇᴅ ʀᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱʜɪᴘ, ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ, ᴍᴀᴛᴜʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇᴍᴇꜱ, ᴏᴠᴇʀᴛʜɪɴᴋɪɴɢ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ, ᴀꜰᴀʙ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ, ᴇᴛᴄ.

ᴛʜɪꜱ ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ ʜᴀꜱ ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ. ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴍᴇᴀɴꜱ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴡɪʟʟ ʙᴇ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴍᴀᴛᴜʀᴇ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ɪɴ ɴᴏ ᴡᴀʏ ᴀ ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ ᴍᴇᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ʀᴏᴍᴀɴᴛɪᴄɪᴢᴇ ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇꜱ, ꜱᴏ ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴅᴏ ꜱᴏ ᴇɪᴛʜᴇʀ. ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ ᴛʜɪꜱ ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ. ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ʀᴇꜱᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴘᴏᴘᴏᴋɪ ᴏɴ ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, Qᴜᴏᴛᴇᴠ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ.

Р.2 / Р.4

Kieran stared at the classroom filled with other fifteen-year-olds. Already, they seemed to fit the stereotypes he always saw on tv back in Russia; jocks, cheerleaders, nerds, and more. It was true that none of them had uniforms. At least that was one good thing, he wouldn't feel stuffy in some uniform.

Scanning the classroom, he paused when he noticed a girl in the back of the class. Her head was crammed into a notebook, cheek against the paper, as she wrote something down. Wasn't that pose hurting her neck? Why was she so close to the paper? She wasn't taking in the teacher's information while Kieran was waiting to be introduced. The class was chaos in a nutshell and all the students were chattering so loud that his ears were going to fall off.

"Now class, all of you need to pay attention to this!" the teacher huffed, clapping her hands, "come on! pay attention. Unless you all want some homework over the weekend!"

It was like magic. At the mere mention of homework, the entire class stopped talking. He bit the inside of his cheek when all the eyes in the room were suddenly on him. A few girls giggled, some boys leaned forward in their seats, and some gave him sweet smiles. He already hated all of them. Why did they stare at him like he was a new exhibit in a zoo?

The girl in the back of the class raised her head, wincing and rubbing the back of her neck. There was a sparkle in her eye and Kieran pursed his lips. She seemed to be one of the annoying chatter-box girls with that happy look.

"Today we are introducing a new student to our class, Kieran. Be nice, he just transferred here from London, so he might have to get used to how this school works for a bit," the teacher beamed at him, "why don't you go sit beside (Y/N)? She's a good student, she will help you with anything you need."

The class burst into welcomes, giddy excitement, and questions. Kieran had a gut feeling that they were only acting this way because he was a foreigner. He was aware that if they knew he was Russia, they would either be interested in his culture or racist about it. His father warned him that a lot of people were mean to Russians at times just because of Putin. Sure, not all of them, but he really didn't want to be called a terrorist just because of his ethnicity.

(Y/N), who he realized was the girl in the back, slowly raised her hand. That sparkle in her eye was something much more nervous now. People nudged and whispered at her, glancing at him with giddy eyes. Great. He was going to be stuck to the weird girl who writes like she has a broken neck. He ignored the pestering stares and whispers around the room as he walked to the back of the class and sat next to her. At least her name wasn't obnoxious.

While he desperately ignored her, he noticed the girl glancing at him from the corner of his eye. She gnawed on her bottom lip and her leg bounced up and down, followed by her opening her mouth to say something but then quickly shutting it.

Kieran's father taught him a lot of lessons growing up and one of those lessons was about cowards. The Morozov family wasn't fond of people who couldn't speak their minds, at least that was what his father told him, because cowards often ruined business. Of course, Kieran wasn't allowed to know a lot about his father's job, but he went ahead and applied that advice to this situation. He didn't understand why she was stammering so much and why her eyes bored holes into the side of his head. Was she just dumb? Maybe a dumb coward? His eye twitched and he leaned against his palm.

Finally, she managed to speak up.

"Uhm—do you... do you want to share my textbook for this class? I see you don't have yours yet. We are learning exponential equations," she proposed, "I'm not the best at them yet, but I can teach you what I know so you can get caught up with the class."

"Sure."

(Y/N) was taken aback by his harsh accent. He knew that it was thick. When he lived in London for two years, the private school he was at always had issues understanding what he was saying. This caused a lot of bullying, especially by the posh brats who didn't have anything better to do than flaunt their wealth and complain about how their parents didn't buy them a specific set of shoes for their birthday.

Her eyes lit when she realized he agreed and she quickly fumbled to put her desk next to his, opening her textbook so the two of them could see it. Kieran was glad he was forced to learn English at a young age because who knew he'd be in a situation like this once he got older? He still struggled with English now and again, certain words and sentence structure confused him, but he knew how to read the majority.

Kieran's eyes flickered to the side. (Y/N) was nervously rambling about something, pointing and poking at the page.

In truth, he was surprised she talked to him. His first impression of her was some weird, shy girl who didn't have a social life (even if that was extremely judgmental, he didn't care). The way she wrote in her notebook like some gremlin in the back of the class was enough to give him that impression. However, she seemed kind so far, even if she was jittery and nervous around him. He knew that even if she was some yellow-bellied coward, he'd rather talk to a coward instead of a bitch.

Back when he was a transfer student in London, people who tried to talk to him immediately retreated when they realized they would have a hard time understanding him if they continued the conversation. They had so much fear of putting themselves in an awkward situation that they didn't want to talk to the boy with a thick accent. Not that he cared, most of the time he just wanted to be left alone.

So it was shocking, to say the least, when (Y/N) started asking him questions.

"So, how do you like our school so far?" she beamed, nervously picking at her sleeve, "I hope you haven't met Jenson yet. He's rude to everyone, but I have a feeling he won't be nice to you."

Kieran pursed his lips, muttering, "...ah, well, everyone likes to stare here."

(Y/N) tensed and tilted her head. Ah... he knew that reaction. Did she not understand him? Annoyance bubbled in his chest and he gnawed on his bottom lip, tapping his fingers aggressively against the table. He opened his mouth to repeat himself and—

"Oh, yeah! People stare a lot here, but if you stare back at them, they will look away. I do that sometimes when some of the girls from art class stare at me," she interrupted, "sorry. Your accent is very thick—I mean, I don't mean that in a bad way! Uhm, it just took me a second. It's very pretty!"

Kieran blinked. His mouth clamped back shut and he awkwardly shifted in his seat, glancing away from her. "It's fine."

His hands stopped tapping at the table and he politely placed them in his lap. His ears felt hot and he rolled his shoulders back, doing his best to shake off the sudden awkward itch on the back of his neck. His accent was pretty? Was she just saying that to be nice? His teeth nibbled on his bottom lip.

(Y/N) brought out her notebook and started to doodle on one of the pages. He glanced over and saw that she was drawing a lot of animals on one page. A dog, a cat, an otter, there was a whole plethora of small critters on her page. She started to draw a black cat, absentmindedly containing the conversation, "Was your school in London cool?"

Why is she suddenly drawing a black cat?

He shrugged, "...not really. Posh brats everywhere."

Her eyes lit up. Whatever she was thinking, he didn't have to place it together quickly to understand what she was going to ask him next. "A lot of people in school romanticize British people. It's probably not the nicest thing to do, but I know a lot of girls from the grade above have been talking about visiting London one day. Did you go to a fancy school in London?"

He nodded. "A private school, but I was homeschooled in Russia."

God, he was delighted to be out of that place. Not everyone was rich and snobby in that place, and he knew it was because of their wealth and not where they came from, but he liked to blame it on the fact they were British. Just like he always liked to blame a lot of things Americans did just because of the fact they were American. All of them had shitty food compared to the delights in Russia, at least in his opinion.

"Woah! That's so cool," she looked up at him with a large smile, "where did you live in Russia? "

"Yakutsk," he deadpanned, "a port city on the Lena River."

(Y/N) blinked. She scribbled in the corner of her notebook and made a dark spiraling circle, her lips pulling into a much more awkward grin. "Uhm, did you say Yaktooz? I'm afraid I don't know where that is. If I am honest, I only know of Moscow, and I don't even know where that is."

Kieran's smiled a little bit more. It has been a while since he talked of his home, even if it wasn't the best place to live. He missed the food and the people, but there was a lot he didn't miss either. He shook his head and pulled out a piece of paper from his notebook, writing down the name of his town and then trying to write it down in English. He grumbled and erased it.

"No, it is pronounced Yakutsk," he paused and muttered to himself, "how would an American say it... shit, I don't know how to pronounce it in a way you'd understand."

(Y/N) tilted her head and looked at the page, "can you say it again?"

"Yakutsk."

When written down in Russian, the word looked completely different, something she wouldn't be able to understand at all. The word 'Якутск' stared back at her heavy yet fluid handwriting. She took her pen and tried to copy the Russian letters right under it. It was messy, not fluid, and hesitant handwriting.

"I--I don't think I will be able to say it as cool as you say it. Is it cold where your home is?"

Kieran didn't blame her for not repeating it. She did butcher the pronunciation when she tried the first time, whatever the hell she was trying to say.

"Summers were short and our winters are very cold. Russia is big, so not every place is cold, but Yakutsk is in Siberia. People have named it the coldest city in the world."

The only reason his family lived in that part of Russia was because it was because of the low crime rate and the fact it was easy for people to go missing there. The Lena River was one of the longest rivers in the world, and Kieran knew that his father sometimes took out people who wanted to cause them harm and threw them there. Why did they want to cause his family harm? he didn't know, his father never shared, but only said "You'll understand when you get older."

However, he wasn't naive. He knew that his father did something illegal. It wasn't just his father, but his entire family. They always kept strong peaceful ties with the authority in Russia and his father always managed to have the highest ranking of power to anyone they met. His father was a kind person, he smiled at everyone, and was so polite that it made him sick--but he also knew that scary look he had behind closed doors when he was talking with some of his men.

One day, he would get all the answers. He was still impatient about it though.

(Y/N) raised an eyebrow. She went back to doodling her cat, humming, "Oh, that's so cool! Do you still have some relatives in Ru—"

"(Y/N), please stop bothering the new student," the teacher snapped and pointed her pen at her, "Kieran is here to learn, not listen to you ramble."

She sank back into her seat and her lips pursed shut. She didn't blush, but by the way her eyes lowered to the floor and her body folded in on itself, she was embarrassed. He stared at her from the corner of his eye while the class burst into giggles and chatter. Some of the other students tried to ask him questions but he ignored them. Instead, he finished the black cat doodle in her notebook, adding a small 'meow' in Russian right next to it.

"Now, everyone pay attention! can someone come up to the board and answer this question?"

Whatever the teacher was saying, he blocked it out. The class went back to doing whatever they were doing, (Y/N) raised her head and doodled a second black cat to go with the first one, and then he added a third. Her doodles were better. When she doodled a pigeon, he was quick to doodle an owl. The rest of the class was spent wasting their time and not paying attention to the board.

Kieran bit his lip to keep his lips from twitching upward. He still would have preferred to be alone, but she wasn't that bad or annoying, and she was so far keeping him from being bored... He supposed he could talk to her a little bit more.

━━━━━━━ ╳ ╳ ╳

Kieran sighed and stopped scribbling on the blank paper on his desk. There were many times when he reminisced, remembering the time he first met (Y/N). It was hard to believe that he didn't like her at first. He didn't understand his past self, how he could have found her bright smile annoying. Now it gave him butterflies each time he thought about it.

Their time spent in school was wild, to say the least. Kieran wasn't the ideal student but he managed to get good grades throughout, good enough that his mother and father didn't scold him when he got home. How ironic that (Y/N) always got the best grades yet somehow her parents never thought it was enough. He licked his teeth at the thought, cursing them under his breath.

He never liked them. He was glad they were out of her life.

They got married six months ago and a couple of her family members were there, but their presence brought down the entire wedding. His family on the other hand were a little bit too loud.

His mother kept cooing and complimenting (Y/N) in Russian each time she had the chance and his father kept telling her baby stories about him. It was embarrassing. His parents adored her, which was good, but they were too adoring at times.

He glanced over at the watch on his desk. It was a gift she gave to him whenever they were in high school. It didn't fit him anymore but he still kept it close, reminding him to be careful and not get shot, because she was waiting at home for him.

Though... something had been off about her.

He knew that she was upset because of him. Kieran was busier than normal, he'd been out of the house more, and he'd been craving her touch. The nights she wasn't with him are the nights he couldn't sleep at all. Did she feel the same way? Was she lonely? God, he felt lonely, and he was the one going out and working all the time.

Not that he could stop. While he was the boss, just throwing away the mafia would get him killed. He had to make sure she was safe and throwing away his job just to be close to her would get her and him killed together. It wasn't like his father was in the States to help protect her either.

His mind flashed back to what happened last night. His expression soured, thinking of the two gang members he found talking to her, and her salty tear-stained cheeks. She was angry at him but didn't want to tell him. She wasn't a good liar, especially when she had an expression of gut-wrenching guilt. Why was she guilty? Did he make her guilty? Fuck, he never wanted to hurt her. He'd rather gut out his intestines and string them up for the crows instead of hurting her.

Kieran tried talking to her about it when they got home, but the conversation didn't go anywhere. He didn't know what to say to make her feel better, telling her the truth was more dangerous than lying, but he knew either option was hurting her. He knew she was lying about so many things. She was an open book. There were many times she pretended to be asleep just to avoid him. The thought left a bitter taste in his mouth.

He needed to find those thugs that talked to her. His ties with the police were beneficial for to the mafia, it kept them off his hide, but maybe they'd know their address when he didn't. He didn't want to go around asking his extra personal contacts for something small like thugs in minor gangs.

He groaned and his head fell into his hands.

God, he missed her.

He missed her scent, her laugh, the way she bites her bottom lip when she's embarrassed, her touch, her panting breaths when he kisses her—Kieran cleared his throat. Thinking about such things at work would leave him with a problem and he didn't want to explain to Sam why he wouldn't leave his office for an hour or two. Yet he couldn't deny that he craved just the brush of her fingers against his arms, his neck, his cheek.

He craved for her body pressed against his. He could imagine it already; (Y/N) cuddled next to him on the couch, watching a horror movie, her hands grabbing whatever they could get ahold of each time she was scared. The feeling of his clothes shifting, the way her body would move, her innocent eyes glancing at him to see his reaction to the movie.

Would she get all embarrassed if he leaned in closer? What sighs would leave her lips if he kissed her neck, caressing her like the goddess she was? God, he'd worship her like a temple, her breath enough to topple him to his knees.

He hissed. His pants suddenly felt tight, unbearably so, and he rubbed at his face. Work was leaving him pent up.

Kieran would be truthful and admit that there were times when it was hard for him to not touch her. All he wanted to do was to cradle her, to make her bend to his touch, to see how pretty she was on top of him... but being a killer didn't mean he was monstrous enough to force her to do something with him. She had to be safe with him, to trust him, so giving in to every horny thought about her wasn't the way to keep her happy, especially since she wasn't ready. He didn't care if she was never ready--she would stay with him forever, even if they weren't intimate.

However, there were times like this. Where the mere thought of her would rile him up, leave him breathless in his office, with no way of having privacy for longer than thirty minutes.

Kieran gritted his teeth as he shuffled in his chair, forcing his mind somewhere else. Somewhere boring. Walking out of his office pent-up was something he didn't want his men to see.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Thank god, a distraction!

Kieran glanced up, sighing whenever he noticed a familiar face peering through the cracked door to his office. Of course, Sam would bother him at a time like this.

"Why didn't you respond to my message?" he snapped, his voice thick with a Italian accent. "You left me on read and everything. I know you are cold, but I didn't expect you to be that cold. We are the only two higher-up immigrants here! We gotta be nice to one another!"

Kieran pinched the bridge of his nose. He was spouting nonsense again without any context. He should have expected this right when he saw him, he was always doing shit like this. "Come inside and stop talking through the crack of my door. What the hell are you even talking about?”

Sam huffed before barging into the room and shutting the door behind him. He was a short man, about 5'7, but the mass of his muscles compensated for it. He was about ten years older than Kieran but still appeared somewhat youthful. His dreadlocks were pulled into a bun and his colorful clothes only added to his unique and distinctive personality. He flipped the orange sunglasses off his nose and slapped them down on the desk.

"You know what you did, Kieran—

"Boss."

"—Boss!"

Kieran was usually confused each time he talked to Sam. Sam, short for Samuel, was a friend of his father's and someone who was meant to help him with the men underneath him. The Morozov Mafia was a dangerous place to work, especially since it was moved from Russia to the States. His father dragged all his people whenever they moved to both London for two years, and then to the United States. Sam was there throughout it all.

Were they close? Well, they were as close as mafia business partners could get. They recognized the respect between the two, they knew each other from growing up. Hell, Kieran could remember the day Sam turned 22. It was hard to believe that was 8 years ago.

"I don't know what I did," he confessed, "so what are you complaining about now?"

Sam frowned. "I messaged you at around ten yesterday morning and you left me on read. I told you to respond and everything because you didn't tell me where the hell you were after you said you'd meet with me. That's so cold of you, I thought we were like brothers."

"...I wasn't home at ten this morning. I already told you that I got caught up in some shipment yard where Kozlov fucked up and got some petty gang members into our territory."

It was messy work. The shipment yard was moving a box of slaves; people who were in debt with the mafia due to past agreements and refused to pay up. Their fault, they were the ones who decided it was a good idea to make contracts with the mafia when they didn't have the money to pay it all back. So hopefully they'd find some use elsewhere, likely back home in Yakutsk with his father and mother.

Even so, he wasted bullets on gang members. He viewed them as kids, infants with baseball bats and an occasional Glock G19, a common gun that anyone could get in the States if they tried even a little bit. Of course, such guns were sloppy, but that didn't stop one of his men from being shot in the leg. To put it simply, it was humiliating.

"Isn't the app on your phone? Are you sure you didn't glance at it and forgot then?" Sam asked, suddenly piqued in curiosity.

"I didn't."

"...I mean, maybe your wife read—"

"Sam," Kieran warned.

Sam leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms. He sighed and his leg bounced up and down, staring at Kieran with a knowing look. "Then who else would have read the message? You only have that app on your laptop and your phone, which I doubt anyone would go through unless the woman who has access to it, did it. If the systems were hacked, which we'd already know by now if they were, then that'd be an issue. But they aren't."

Kieran glared. Quickly, the issue of being pent up went out the window, doubts starting to cloud his mind. Anxiety filled up his bloodstream like poison.

What would he do if she knew?

How could he keep her safe?

Who would hurt her?

How would he keep her with him?

"I know what you're thinking, but you already know the answer to that," Sam picked up a small candy from the tray, unraveled it, and plopped it into his mouth, "You either drag her in or you throw her out, kid, that's how this business works. Hell, you're lucky the Big Boss loves her so much that he allowed you to marry her."

"Sam," Kieran warned again, his voice tighter, face falling to hide behind his hands as a headache grew.

"I'm just saying! She's probably curious about where you are leaving all the time. You're editor, so of course you meet up with your clients sometimes, but not every goddamn night."

"Poor woman doesn't even have her man there to sleep with her. Who knows, maybe she'll go out and find some other guy—"

Sam stilled whenever he saw the two green eyes peeking out behind Kieran's hands, staring at him with enough intensity to knock the air out of his lungs. Thousands of spiders crawled up his spine and sweat built on his brow. He opened his mouth to fix his mistake, to undo what just slipped out of his mouth, but he couldn't speak. Not whenever the cold eyes of the devil were threatening to swallow him whole.

Kieran was glaring with icy anger. No, it wasn't quite anger. It was hard to explain, whatever look was in his eyes, but Sam had a gut feeling that he wouldn't have any issue placing a bullet in his head if he continued to talk about his wife. The sparkle in his emerald eyes was gone. It was dead, daring, threatening.

The two went way back—but he knew very well that Kieran loved and adored his spouse more than anyone and anything. He was obsessed. She was a drug and each time he was two feet away from her, he started to show cold symptoms of withdrawal. Bloodthirsty withdrawal.

"I—I was just joking boss," Sam backpedaled, "you don't have to look at me like that."

Kieran's eyes narrowed. Like a snake scrutinizing its prey, Sam felt like a mouse about to be served on a dinner plate. He shivered and his hands instinctively crossed his chest in a mere attempt to guard himself. Not like that would work. He was stronger than Kieran, but Kieran also knew martial arts. He could easily slam his head into the table with enough force to watch him choke and bleed out on the cold concrete floor.

"So... anyway, you should—you should talk to your wife. If she saw the message, she probably assumed it was something... indecent."

He needed Kieran to speak. To say something. Because the silence was getting overwhelming and his gaze was drowning him in tar. Hot, sticky tar that made his body break out into a sweat and his lungs clog up each time he shuffled in his seat.

"Fine."

Sam exhaled. He was dizzy, just how long was he holding his breath?

Kieran leaned back into his seat and stopped cradling his head in his hands. He was still on edge, Sam could tell, but at least he wasn't staring at him like he was planning a blood-soaked feast.

"Sam."

He inhaled, "yes?"

"Don't talk about her again."

Sam flinched. His hands wiped at his thighs and he nodded, staring at the gritty concrete under his shoes, "...yes boss. I won't bring her up again."

He was lucky someone ended up knocking on the door.

Kieran's face fell into indifference whenever a runt knocked on the door. He called for them to come in and soon a hairy man, clear of all common mafia tattoos, scurried in. He lowered his head and nervously tugged at his beard. He was shaking. Sam and Kieran leaned forward in their seats, picking up the strange atmosphere.

"Sorry to bother you, boss," the man choked out, "but some members from Leovana are here. They—They said they have a gift and message for you from, uh, from their boss."

Sam's eyes widened. He glanced over to Kieran, noticing the emotionless facade he was wearing. Why did he seem so nonchalant about it? The damn CEO of Leovana was their known enemy, even if he wasn't in any close mafia groups. He was a standing pillar who somehow continued to stay upright even when he was in a field of mafia men. It wasn't normal for a random CEO and his business to stand tall even in situations like this.

"What's the gift?" Kieran deadpanned.

"They didn't say."

"What's it held in?"

"A small box, boss."

Sam chewed on his bottom lip. He doubted it was a bomb, the bastard wasn't that tactless. However, Kieran looked like his head was going to explode based on how much he was rubbing his temples. He sighed and shrugged the anxiety off his shoulders, turning to face the man before Kieran had to say anything.

He didn't. Instead, Kieran pushed up from his desk and fixed his undid his messy bun into a low ponytail. He brushed a couple of strands from his face and walked to the door. Sam had a gut feeling that he was planning something, like usual, but it was going to be gorey this time.

"Sam, you're coming with me."

He grabbed his sunglasses off the table and put them back on. "Aye Aye."

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

RANDOM KIERAN FUN FACTS

• Kieran makes the MC food every morning each time he can. Sometimes he makes it before he leaves at night and puts it in the fridge so she can warm it up later. The only times he doesn't make breakfast is when he's away for days.

• Kieran got his first tattoo before age ten for mafia purposes. It's the symbol of his family's group.

• Kieran is ACTUALLY an editor. It's not some lie, he does work as an editor for a coverup and does speak with authors and clients in face-to-face meetups.

• Kieran has a special charm tattoo on his arm that he got so he could always kiss it for good luck. It's the black cat that she doodled when they first met. Yes, something as small as that is important to him.

LINKS:

— 𝘋𝘪𝘴𝘤𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘚𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘦𝘳

— 𝘞𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘱𝘢𝘥

— 𝘘𝘶𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘷

[ P.4 ]

[odinsblog]

DONALD TRUMP: MOBBED UP AF - A RETROSPECTIVE

(by @saradannerdukic)

1970s & 1980s: wave of Russian criminals arrive in New York and begin interfacing with established American organized crime networks (La Cosa Nostra/The Five Families aka Bonanno, Genovese, Colombo, Lucchese, Gambino) (source)

1977: KGB reportedly opens file on Donald Trump (source).

1979: Construction begins on Trump Tower.  Trump purchases overpriced concrete from mafia bosses Anthony “Fat Tony” Salerno and Paul Castellano of the Genovese and Gambino crime families (respectively). (source)

1980: Trump's mentor, Roy Cohn, introduces Donald to Roger Stone. (source)

1982: New York City Housing Commissioner Anthony Gliedman received what he described as an “abusive and profane” call from someone angry that Gliedman had opposed Trump’s request for a $20 million tax abatement. Gliedman reported the call to the FBI, saying the caller was “threatening his life.” (source)

June 3, 1983: Rudy Giuliani becomes US attorney for SDNY

January, 1984: Vladimir Alexandrovich Kryuchkov, First Chief Directorate of the KGB arm responsible for gathering foreign intelligence, urges his officers to be more creative with agent recruitment - and to use money and flattery vs. alignment with Soviet ideology.  Additionally, he gives the directive to find "U.S. targets to cultivate or, at the very least, official contacts...The main effort must be concentrated on acquiring valuable agents." (source)

1984: Russian émigré David Bogatin pays cash for five apartments in Trump Tower. (source).  Bogatin's brother ran a $150 million stock scam with Russian mafia boss Semion Mogilevich (source)

1985: Trump reportedly “apoplectic” when he loses bid to re-develop the Coliseum at Columbus Circle to Salomon Brothers-backed Mort Zuckerman. (source)  More on Trump’s proposal here.

October 1985: Trump's helicopter pilot indicted on drug trafficking charges. Trump doesn't fire him.  Instead, he leases his personally-owned unit in Trump Plaza Apartments to him with an agreement of half the rent is to be paid in cash, the other half in unspecified helicopter services.  Trump also writes a letter on behalf of his pilot (Weichselbaum), calling him "a credit to the community.”  Who does the case end up with?  Federal judge Maryanne Trump, Donald's sister. (source)

Autumn, 1986: Trump meets Soviet ambassador Yuri Dubinin.  And per Trump's own account in Art of the Deal, “One thing led to another, and now I’m talking about building a large luxury hotel, across the street from the Kremlin, in partnership with the Soviet government.” (source)

1986: Trump makes the rounds in the news offering to negotiate with the Russians (source), and also angles for a Soviet posting in the Reagan administration (source)

March 16, 1987: Bogatin (who had purchased multiple apartments in Trump Tower for cash) pleads guilty to taking part in a massive gasoline-bootlegging scheme with Russian mobsters. The government seized his five condos at Trump Tower, because he'd used them to “launder money, to shelter and hide assets.” A Senate investigation into organized crime later revealed that Bogatin was a leading figure in the Russian mob in New York. (from New Republic)

April 3, 1987: Trump excluded from bidding on Australian casino deal because of mafia connections (per Australian police) (source)

July 4, 1987: Trump flies to the USSR for the first time after being personally invited - the trip is arranged by the Soviet government (source).

1987: Trump talks extensively in an interview about nuclear bombs, and states that his pilot used to work for Qaddafi.  In the same interview, Trump describes the type of bomb he thinks will be possible in the future: "Carry it in your briefcase, right. I’m not even talking about airplanes and missiles. You’ll walk in with your damn tape recorder,” he says, pointing to my innocent Sony, “and you’ll say it’s a tape recorder and nobody will be able to tell the difference. I mean, that’s where it’s going to be in 20 years.” (source)

1988: Trump starts talking about running for president on Oprah (source).

1988: Trump purchases a yacht from Adnan Khashoggi, the uncle of Jamal Khashoggi (source) (source)

1988: American Media Inc. (AMI) comes into being after Enquirer owner Generoso Pope dies. (source)  Among the interested parties are Robert Maxwell (source), the father of Ghislaine Maxwell - Jeffrey Epstein's partner. (source).  Among the trustees of the Pope estate are Peter G. Peterson, a partner in the Blackstone Group (source) - a private equity firm founded by Steven Schwarzman (source). (More on Schwarzman and his relation to Trump here).  According to Pope's son, Paul, The Enquirer was started with a $75,000 loan from the mafia (source).

October 11, 1989: helicopter crashes with 3 Trump casino execs aboard (source).  Trump claimed he was supposed to be on it, but then changed his mind at the last minute. (source)  After their deaths, he blamed them for the failure of his Atlantic City casino (source) The helicopter's pilot was identified by the state police as Robert Kent of Ronkonkoma, L.I., and its co-pilot as Lawrence Diener of Westbury, L.I.  b/b

1990: Wall Street bond house Salomon Brothers advises institutional clients to sell bonds issue from Trump's Castle Casino in Atlantic City, due to debt and performance concerns. (source)

1991: Trump declares bankruptcy (source)

1991: Trump sells his yacht to Prince Al-Waleed bin Talal (source) (source)

December 17, 1991: Fred Trump gives Donald an interest-free loan by purchasing $3.5 million worth of casino chips at Trump Castle casino, circumventing bankruptcy rules and enabling Donald to make the interest payment due on his bonds. (source)

1992: Trump declares bankruptcy an additional 3 times stemming from various properties he's over-leveraged. (source)

1994: Trump allegedly rapes and beats a 13-year-old girl at a party with Jeffrey Epstein, multiple times.  In the filed complaint, the 13-year-old was threatened to be "disappeared" like another young girl had been if she told anyone. (source)

October 20, 1994: Christine Seymour, Roy Cohn's secretary (Cohn was Trump's mentor), who was set to publish a tell-all book, dies in head-on collision with tractor trailer (source)

1995: Trump reportedly in Moscow to discuss matters related to Okhotny Ryad underground mall on Manezh Square. (source)

The trip is also reference in this article: https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/1997/05/19/trump-solo

1995: Trump sells Plaza Hotel to Alwaleed bin Talal (source) Barbara Corcoran brokers the deal (source)

June 8, 1995: Vyacheslav Ivankov arrested (source).  Ivankov was known to be a notoriously brutal gangster in the upper echelon of the Russian mafia. (source) After having difficulty finding him, the FBI picked up his trail at Trump Taj Mahal, and then discovered that Ivankov had a luxury condo in Trump Tower. (source)  According to Robert Friedman in his book, Red Mafiya, Friedman viewed Ivankov's personal phone book containing "a working number for the Trump Organization’s Trump Tower Residence, and a Trump Organization office fax machine." (this is listed as a citation at the end of the book).  Ivankov is also mentioned in this 2003 DOJ paper on organized crime, with a forward by Bruce Ohr (pp 49).

1996: Trump goes to Russia with Howard Lorber (source).  Lorber later donated to the Trump inaugural fund (source).

1998: Trump Taj Mahal fined for currency transaction reporting violations (source)

February 1999: Evercore Capital Partners L.L.C., headed by former Deputy Treasury Secretary Roger C. Altman, acquires American Media, Inc. and places David Pecker at the helm. (source)

1999: Trump's first run for president (source)

2000/2001: Mark Burnett in negotiations with Putin for a show called "Destination Mir." (source)

October 2001: AMI offices in Boca Raton are attacked with anthrax (source).  Later, in 2004, a cleaning company owned by Rudy Giuliani is contracted to clean up the anthrax, with his company, Bio-One, slated to rent/occupy the building after cleanup. (source)  The contract later ended in a feud. (source)

2002: Mark Burnett begins talks with Trump regarding The Apprentice. (source)

2002 - 2011: The Bayrock Group partners with the Trump Organization on developments including the Trump SoHo hotel (source).  Principals in the group include Felix Sater - believed to be connected with Semion Mogilevich (source) - and Tevfik Arif (source).

2004: Trump declares bankruptcy again. (source)

Spring 2004: The Apprentice debuts (source)

May 2004: Diamond dealer and former Trump Tower tenant (1 year prior he'd lived right below Kellyanne Conway) Eduard Nektalov is shot on 6th Avenue (source).  He was reportedly cooperating with federal authorities on a money laundering investigation (source)  More on money laundering and Trump properties here.

2005: at the same time Trump is unable to get a 25 million pound loan from Bank of Scotland due to being a credit risk (source), Deutsche Bank (who later is hit with massive fines for money laundering) loans Trump nearly one billion dollars. Trump's banker at Deutsche Bank is Justice Kennedy's son. (source).

2006: Felix Sater escorts the Trump children during their trip to Russia (according to Sater) (source).  Later, in emails to Michael Cohen, Sater says that he'd arranged for Ivanka to sit in Putin's chair. (source).

2006: Paul Manafort buys unit in Trump Tower (source).

2006 - 2009: Trump makes multiple attempts (and fails) to get a loan from the Bank of Scotland to purchase Hamilton Hall.  The bank executive "expressed concern that Trump would hold the bank to 'future ransom'” (source)

2007 - 2016: Buyers tied to Russia make 86 cash purchases at Trump properties. (source)

2008: Soviet-born (Moldovia) Orly Taitz helps bring suit regarding Obama's citizenship/birth certificate. (source)

2008: Junior brags that they're getting a lot of money from Russia. (source)

2008: Russian oligarch buys a Palm Beach mansion from Trump, paying twice the value (source).

August 27, 2008: a small-time scam artist transfers a Beverly Hills, California, mansion to Donald Trump for $0. (source)

November 2008: Unable to meet his obligations for the nearly 1 billion dollar loan they gave him, Trump sues Deutsche Bank saying he shouldn't have to make good on his promise because of the economic crash. (source)

2009: Trump declares bankruptcy again. (source)

2009: a lawyer representing Trump Atlantic City casino creditors says he got threatening phone calls. The FBI traced one of them to a payphone outside the “Late Show With David Letterman,” where Trump was appearing.

“My name is Carmine,” the caller told the lawyer, Kristopher Hansen. “I don’t know why you’re fucking with Mr. Trump but if you keep fucking with Mr. Trump, we know where you live and we’re going to your house for your wife and kids.” (source)

July 23, 2009: Stormy Daniels' political advisor's car explodes (source).  This was approximately 3 years after her affair with Trump (source).

August 2009: After multiple tries dating back to 2006, Trump denied a final time for loan for 25 million pounds from Bank of Scotland because the bank considered it "too risky." (source)

2010: Tevfik Arif, a principal of the Bayrock Group - which at this time is partnering with the Trump organization on a variety of projects - is arrested in a Turkish prostitution sting. (source).  Charges were later dropped by Turkish authorities.

July 25, 2011: President Obama issues executive order declaring organized crime a national security emergency. (source)

2011 - 2015: Deutsche Bank, who 5 years previous had given Donald Trump nearly 1 billion dollars when Bank of Scotland wouldn't loan him 25 million pounds, is laundering billions of dollars with the help of Russians. (source)

2011: Eric Trump brags that they have access to millions of dollars from Russians. (source)

2011 - 2015: Donald Trump begins paying for his properties with hundreds of millions of dollars in cash. (source)

January 1, 2012: former Trump bodyguard dies from apparent overdose (source).

2013: Trump walks out of a BBC Panorama interview when asked about his connections with Felix Sater. (source)

April 16, 2013: Preet Bharara, then US attorney for SDNY, announces charges against massive Russian organized crime ring operating out of Trump Tower. (source)

June 16, 2013: Trump announces Miss Universe pageant will be in Moscow. (source)

November 9, 2013: Miss Universe pageant (source).  One of the fugitives indicted in the Trump Tower organized crime ring in April, ALIMZHAN TOKHTAKHOUNOV, is a guest of honor there. (source)

2014: Steve Bannon, while at Cambridge Analytica, orders testing on Putin messaging with Americans. (source)

February 10, 2014: Trump praises Putin on Fox & Friends. (source)

March 6, 2015: Trump Taj Mahal fined for money laundering. (source)

2015: Michael Cohen threatens a reporter covering Trump's divorce with Ivana.  “I’m warning you, tread very fucking lightly, because what I’m going to do to you is going to be fucking disgusting,” the Daily Beast’s Tim Mak, recalled Cohen telling him. “You write a story that has Mr. Trump’s name in it, with the word ‘rape,’ and I’m going to mess your life up … for as long as you’re on this frickin’ planet.” (source) (source)

April 18, 2015: Trump's former pilot dies in head-on collision (source).

November 3, 2015: Felix Sater, who is believed to work for Semion Mogilevich (source) writes Michael Cohen stating that he'll get buy-in from Putin and that they'll engineer Trump's presidency. (source)

November 5, 2015: former head of RT Mikhail Lesin found dead in DC hotel room with blunt force trauma to head, neck and torso.  He had a meeting with DOJ scheduled for following day. (source)

January 23, 2016: Trump tells the crowd at a rally that he could shoot someone in the middle of 5th Avenue and not lose voters. (source)

February 23, 2016: Trump tells the crowd at a rally that he'd like to punch a protestor in the face, and "I love the old days. You know what they used to do to guys like that when they were in a place like this? They’d be carried out on a stretcher, folks.” (source)

March 29, 2016: Paul Manafort joins Trump campaign. (source)

April - May 2016: George Papadopoulos in communication with “high ranking Russian official” in an attempt to set up meetings between Trump team and Russian reps, w/the promise “that the Kremlin had 'dirt' on Hillary Clinton in the form of “thousands of emails…” (source)

May 2016: Stephen Schwarzman flies to Riyadh to meet with Mohammed bin Salman - then the deputy crown prince of Saudi Arabia - about infrastructure, and presumably the $20 billion fund that's announced a year later. (source) More on Schwarzman's relationship with Trump, and Saudi Arabia here.  More on Schwarzman's links to Russia and Rosneft here.

Summer 2016: Stefan Halper, an FBI informant, approaches Trump campaign officials. (source)

June 9, 2016: Trump Tower meeting with Russians, Manafort, Kushner, Don Jr.. (source).  Present at the meeting was Nataliya Veselnitskaya, who at the time was representing Prevezon (source), a company implicated in a money-laundering case at SDNY (source)

June 14, 2016: News breaks that the DNC has been hacked by Russians. (source)

June 14, 2016: Michael Cohen cancels his planned trip to Moscow to discuss Trump Tower Moscow (source)

Sometime after July 19, 2016: Trump warned by FBI that Russians will try to infiltrate campaign. (source)

July 2016: FBI opens counter intelligence investigation into Trump campaign. (source) (source)

September, 2016: Trump and Cohen discuss hush money and contingency for if guy gets hit by a truck. (source)

October 31, 2016: Mother Jones reports "A Veteran Spy Has Given the FBI Information Alleging a Russian Operation to Cultivate Donald Trump"

November 7, 2016 (one day before election day): Connie Watton, maid of Stephen Schwarzman - a Trump AND Kremlin friend - is pushed in front of a subway. (source)  The woman who pushed her is assigned defense attorney Mathew Mari, known for his legal work for the Bonanno crime family.  More on Schwarzman's relationship with Trump, and Saudi Arabia here.  More on Schwarzman's links to Russia and Rosneft here.  Schwarzman had also financed Kushner projects and gave Jared Kushner a loan (source).

November 8, 2016 (election day): Russian diplomat Sergei Krivov found unconscious at the Russian Consulate in New York and died on the scene. (source)

December 2016: FSB officers arrested in Russia. (source)

December 2016: Jared Kushner instructs Michael Flynn to sabotage US foreign policy. (source)

December 1 or 2, 2016: Kushner tries to set up secret back channel with Russians using Russians' secure facilities. (source)

December 1, 2016: Jared Kushner and Michael Flynn meet with Sergei Kislyak at Trump Tower (source)

December 13-14, 2016 (date not confirmed): Jared Kushner meets with Sergey Gorkov, "a graduate of the academy of the Federal Security Service, or FSB, the domestic intelligence arm of the former Soviet KGB, who was appointed by Putin to the post less than a year before his encounter with Kushner." (source)

December 19, 2016: Russia's ambassador to Turkey, Andrei Karlov, is killed. (source)

December 19, 2016: Russian diplomat to Latin America, Peter Polshikov, is killed. (source)

December 20, 2016: Methbot white paper published. (source)

December 26, 2016: Ex-KGB chief Oleg Erovinkin, who was suspected of helping draft the Trump dossier, found dead in the back of his car. (source)

December 29, 2016: Obama expels 35 Russian diplomats. (source)

December 29, 2016: KT McFarland sends email stating that "If there is a tit-for-tat escalation Trump will have difficulty improving relations with Russia, which has just thrown U.S.A. election to him," (source)

December 29, 2016: Flynn calls Kislyak to discuss the expelling of the diplomates and asks that the Russians not retaliate. (source)

January 6, 2017: Trump, McFarland, Pence, Flynn, Priebus, Pompeo and Bossert briefed with classified intelligence report by Brennan, Clapper, Comey. (source)  That same day, DNI releases this report.

January 9, 2017: Russian Consul in Athens, Greece, Andrei Malanin, found dead in his apartment (source)

January 10, 2017: Buzzfeed publishes Steele Dossier. (source)

January 24, 2017: Peter Strzok interviews Michael Flynn. (source)

January  27, 2017: Russia's Ambassador to India, Alexander Kadakin, dies. (source)

January 30, 2017: New York State Department of Financial Services fines Deutsche Bank $425 million for massive Russian mirror trading scheme. (source)

February 2017: Trump's bodyguard, a Trump Organization lawyer and a third man raid Harold Bornstein's office, taking Trump's medical records. (source)

February 20, 2017: Vitaly Churkin, Russia's ambassador to the UN, dies suddenly in New York (source)

March 2, 2017: Ukrainian businessman with links to Trump found dead from undetermined causes.  Oronov was Michael Cohen's brother's father-in-law, and Cohen did business with him. (source)

March 11, 2017: Trump fires Preet Bharara, who as US Attorney of SDNY had led the breakup of a massive Russian organized crime ring operating out of Trump Tower. (source)

March 16, 2017: laptop stolen from Secret Service agent's car while parked in her driveway.  The laptop contained highly sensitive information including floor plans and evacuation protocol for Trump Tower. (source)

March 20, 2017: It's learned that the FBI had launched a counter intelligence investigation into the Trump campaign and Russian links in July of 2016. (source) (source)

March 21, 2017: A lawyer for a Putin-foe, Nikolai Gorokhov, reportedly thrown from a window in Moscow. Gorokhov was set to testify as a U.S. government witness in a money laundering case initiated by SDNY (led by Preet Bahrara). (source)  "The alleged vehicle by which these dirty assets were washed clean was a Cyprus-registered company called Prevezon Holdings Ltd." (source)  Prevezon is represented by Nataliya Veselnitskaya at the time that she attends the Trump Tower meeting in June of 2016. (source)

March 23, 2017: former Russian MP, Denis Voronenkov, shot dead in Kiev. (source)

March 30, 2017: FBI raids Trump-linked casino in Saipan. (source)

March 30, 2017: Mike Flynn asks for immunity. (source)

May 1, 2017: Scott Christianson, investigative reporter for McClatchy, publishes this:

May 9, 2017: Trump fires FBI director James Comey. (source)

May 2017 (date unclear): FBI opens counter intelligence investigation into Trump. (source)

May 10: 2017: Subpoenas issued to Michael Flynn by Senate Intelligence Committee. (source)

May 10, 2017: closed-door meeting in Oval Office with Russians. (source)

May 10, 2017: Roger Ailes falls in his home at Palm Beach Country. (source)

May 11, 2017: FBI raids GOP consulting firm in Maryland. (source)

May 14, 2017: Scott Christianson dies after falling down the stairs at his home (source)

May 14 2017: Republic operative Peter Smith found dead in Minnesota 10 days after speaking with WSJ (source)

Smith had said he'd been working with Michael Flynn (source).

May 17, 2017: Robert Mueller appointed special counsel (source).

May 18, 2017: Roger Ailes dies from head injury he'd sustained 8 days earlier (source).

May 20-21, 2017: Trump takes his first overseas trip as president to Saudi Arabia.  During this trip, it's announced that Blackstone, led by Stephen Schwarzman, will manage Saudi Arabia's $20 billion investment fund. (source)  Most of the investment will be in US infrastructure (source)  During that trip, Trump also meets with Kirill Dmitriev of VEB bank (source)

July 4, 2017: body washes up on shore of Trump golf course in California. (source) (source)

July 26, 2017: Paul Manafort's home raided (source)

July 27, 2017: George Papadopoulos arrested. (source)

August 3, 2017: Secret Service kicked out of Trump Tower (source).

August 23, 2017: Russian ambassador to Sudan, Mirgayas Shirinsky, found dead. (source)

September 1, 2017: fire at Russian consulate in San Francisco (source).

September 14, 2017: Junior ditches Secret Service to go to Canada (source).

September 25, 2017: Richard Beckler, Trump's appointee as General Counsel of GSA dies (source).  Beckler is the GSA staff member who'd assured Trump that requests for materials/emails from special counsel would not be honored (source).

September 27, 2017: Paul Horner, fake news writer who took credit for Trump’s win, dies of apparent overdose (source)

October 2017: Trump muses that he'll likely get to place 4 justices on the Supreme Court because of future health issues they may have (source).

October 16, 2017: Panama Papers journalist killed with a car bomb. (source)

October 25, 2017: Jared Kushner leaves on unannounced visit to Saudi Arabia.

October 26, 2017: Investigator (Catherine Hunt, a former FBI agent) working on behalf of 9/11 families suing Saudi Arabia interviews Jamal Khashoggi.  Khashoggi texted Saudi officials that same day.

(as claimed by the lawyer working on behalf of the families)

October 28, 2018: Jared Kushner returns from unannounced visit to Saudi Arabia.

October 30, 2017: Papadopoulos guilty plea revealed (source)

November 3, 2017: Alex van der Zwaan is interviewed by the FBI. (source)

November 4, 2017: Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman consolidates power and arrests several princes, including Prince Alwaleed bin-Talal. (source)  Trump had previously sold his yacht (1991) and the Plaza Hotel to Alwaleed bin-Talal (source).

November 2017: Trump picks fights with North Korea. (source)

November 17, 2017: Brett Kavanaugh added to short list of SCOTUS nominees. (source)

December 1, 2017: Michael Flynn pleads guilty to lying to the FBI. (source)

December 5, 2017: It's reported that Deutsche Bank received subpoena from Robert Mueller (source) In-depth Rachel Maddow segment on Deutsche Bank and the subpoena here.

December 16, 2017: Trump learns that Mueller has in his possession all of their transition emails on the .gov domain, obtained via the GSA. (source)

December 22, 2017: House Intelligence Committee interviews Rhona Graff

December 30, 2017: Fire at home linked to Ivanka's diamond business (source).

January 8, 2018: Fire at Trump Tower (source)

January 20, 2018: Former spokesman for Rick Gates, Glenn Selig, dies in Afghanistan hotel attack.  Selig was a well-known Tampa Bay Area TV anchor. (source)

January 25, 2018: It's learned that Dutch intelligence had infiltrated Russian hacker group Cozy Bear and witnessed in real time as they attacked the State Department as well as the DNC. (source)

January 27, 2018: Steve Wynn resigns as RNC finance chair amid sexual assault allegations (source).

January 31, 2018: chartered train carrying GOP lawmakers to retreat crashes into truck (source).

February 16, 2018: Indictment of 12 Russians, outlining their methods of election interference (indictment sealed). (source)

February 20, 2018: Alex van der Zwaan pleads guilty to making false statements to FBI. (source)

February 22, 2018: Paul Manafort and Richard Gates indicted. (source)

February 23 - 27, 2018: Trump Tower Panama standoff with physical altercations and armed guards (source).

Week of March 4 - 10, 2018 (date unclear): FBI raids Trump-linked casino in Saipan a second time. (source)

March 4, 2018: Sergei Skripal and his daughter Yulia, found poisoned on a park bench in Salisbury. (source)

March 16, 2018: FBI Deputy Director Andrew McCabe fired. (source)

April 7, 2018: ANOTHER Trump Tower Fire - art dealer Todd Brassner dies (source); Michael Cohen texts Dennis Shields with a warning to "get out ASAP" (source).

April 9, 2018: FBI raids Michael Cohen's home, hotel room, and office (source).

April 13, 2018: RNC Finance Chair Elliot Broidy resigns in midst hush money payoff scandal (source).

April 15 or 16, 2018: Matthew Mellon (finance chair, NY RNC, and who made his fortune in cryptocurrency) dies of apparent overdose (source). Note - original link/story is now gone; here are alternate sources for that story: https://twitter.com/business/status/986135482013769728

April 24, 2018: Devin Nunes sends classified letter to Jeff Sessions regarding FBI informant (source) who is later revealed to be Stefan Halper. (source)

April 28, 2018: Fire at Trump Tower Azerbaijan (source).

Week of April 29, 2018: Devin Nunes issues subpoena to DOJ seeking information about FBI informant (later revealed to be Stefan Halper). (source)

June 20, 2018: New York State Department of Financial Services fines Deutsche Bank $205 million for "unlawful, unsafe and unsound conduct in its foreign exchange trading business." (source)

June 22, 2018: Trump-backed Katie Arrington seriously injured in head-in collision (source).

June 27, 2018: Justice Kennedy, whose son was Donald Trump's banker, unexpectedly announces retirement. (source) Trump and Kennedy reportedly had a special relationship (source).

July 4, 2018: delegation of Republicans go to Moscow. (source)

July 9, 2018: Brett Kavanaugh nominated to SCOTUS. (source)

July 14, 2018: Indictment of 12 Russians/internet research agency unsealed (source).

July 16, 2018: Maria Butina criminal complaint unsealed. (source)

July 16, 2018: Trump meets with Putin in Helsinki. (source)

July 17, 2018: Secret Service agent dies in Scotland.  After falling ill at Trump's golf course in Turnberry, he died the day after the Helsinki meeting (source) (source). (obituary)

July 25, 2018: dead body found in waters off Trump NYC golf course (source).

August 6, 2018: Rand Paul goes to Russia. (source)

August 10, 2018: Dennis Shields - the same guy Cohen texted back in April - found dead in Trump Tower (source)

August 15, 2018: Trump revokes John Brennan's security clearance. (source)

August 16, 2018: mystery case before grand jury initiated. (source)

October 2, 2018: Jamal Khashoggi murdered on orders from Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman. (source)  Trump later disputes the findings of the CIA and stands with MBS, stating that too much money is at stake. (source)

October 3, 2018: Nikki Hailey resigns, but resignation is not yet publicly announced. (source)

October 3, 2018: The Russian deputy attorney general (Saak Karapetyan) who reportedly directed Natalya Veselnitskaya (the lawyer who met with the Trump campaign in Trump Tower) dies in a helicopter crash (source).  It was later reported that the pilot of the helicopter had been shot. (source)

October 9, 2018: Internet Research Agency (aka the troll farm) named in DOJ indictment (unsealed July 14, 2018) set on fire. (source)

October 9, 2018: Nikki Haley announces resignation.

October 9, 2018: New York Times reports that Saudi Arabia had ordered Khashoggi's murder.

October 17, 2018: Don McGahn resigns. (source)

October 19, 2018: "Project Lahkta" (Russian election interference) criminal complaint unsealed (source)

October 21, 2018: John Bolton goes to Russia to meet with Putin. (source)

October 22 - 27, 2018: week of terror begins with bombs at the home of George Soros. (source).  It was followed by bombs sent to Bill and Hillary Clinton (Oct. 23); Barack Obama, CNN, John Brennan, Debbie Wasserman Schultz, Eric Holder and Maxine Waters (October 24); Robert de Niro and Joe Biden (October 25); and Cory Booker, James Clapper, Kamala Harris, and Tom Steyer (October 26). It ends with mass shooting at Tree of Life synagogue on October 27 (source).

October 30, 2018: Whitey Bulger killed. (source)

November 21, 2018: head of GRU agency accused of DNC hacks and Skripal poisoning dies, reportedly after a long illness. (source)

November 27, 2018: Methbot indictment unsealed at EDNY. (source)

November 28, 2018: Miami Herald publishes Perversion of Justice investigative report.

November 29, 2018: Michael Cohen pleads guilty. (source)

November 29, 2018: Massive raid at Deutsche Bank. (source)

November 29, 2018: FBI raids offices of Trump's former tax attorney, Chicago Alderman Ed Burke. (source)

December 4, 2018: Epstein trial set to begin.  It is settled at the last minute, avoiding testimony from witnesses. (source)

December 13, 2018: FBI allegedly raids Chicago Alderman and former Trump tax attorney Ed Burke's office a second time (FBI neither confirms nor denies whether raid took place) (source).

December 22, 2018: Government shuts down. (source)

January 8, 2019: it's learned that Manafort passed polling data to Kilimnik in the summer of 2016. (source)

January 11, 2019: it's learned/reported that the FBI had opened a counter intelligence investigation into Trump in May of 2017. (source)

January 23, 2019: Michael Cohen postpones testimony before Congress, saying it's because Trump has been threatening him. (source)

January 25, 2019: Roger Stone arrested and indicted. (source) (source)

February 21, 2019: Judge rules that federal prosecutors (including Trump labor secretary Alex Acosta) broke the law in Epstein case. (source)

February 27, 2019: Michael Cohen testifies before Congress that Trump had directed him to threaten people as many as 500 times when he worked for him. (source)  He also testifies that Felix Sater's office had been located on the 26th floor of Trump Tower - the same floor as Trump's office - and, in the location that would eventually become Cohen's office. (source)

And let's not forget the acid in Steve Bannon's bathroom: https://www.hollywoodreporter.com/news/bannons-vacated-florida-home-had-a-bathroom-destroyed-by-acid-washington-post-report-985356

Or how Michael Cohen threatened this reporter: https://twitter.com/cherijacobus/status/974831949285031936

Or the threats Stormy Daniels received: https://www.cnn.com/2018/03/25/politics/stormy-daniels-threat-60-minutes/index.html

A short history of Donald Trump's threats: https://www.propublica.org/article/a-short-history-of-threats-received-by-donald-trumps-opponents

[robbiereyesangr114]

Some food for thought for Ghost Rider fans:

During ANGR, Yegor Ivanov (the mafia boss that Eli worked for) is surprised by Eli involving a Reyes into his scheme and later on when talking to Eli/Robbie seemed to respect the Reyes name and be disgusted with Eli using one of them for his resurrection.

Any ideas as what Alberto (or Juliana) could have done to be held in such high regard in the Russian Mafia?

@rokhal @cicada-candy @wazzappp @felipesmithart @goldendaydna

[dropofbittersea]

Dean Winchester is a young Omega working three jobs to support himself and his abusive, alcoholic father. His dream is to help his aunt and uncle send his brilliant little brother to college.

One of the few bright spots for him is the job he works at a burger place called Mystery Spot, a restaurant owned by four Russian brothers that Sammy and Dean joke all the time is a front for a mafia. One day, however, when a man comes in and tries to kill Dean’s favorite Krushnic brother right in front of him, the Omega is forced to admit that maybe his running joke with Sammy isn’t too far off the mark.

As Dean is thrown into the world of the Krushnic mafia, he finds himself getting closer than ever to Castiel Krushnic himself. The Alpha seems to harbor a strange soft spot for Dean, one that grows more obvious and more confusing by the day. Suddenly, Dean has to wonder why the kindest person in his life is a mafia boss, and why said mafia boss is so dead-set on taking care of him.

It’ll take a very stubborn person to convince Dean he deserves that. It’s lucky Castiel Krushnic is a very stubborn man.

[courseyoulovemeyoudontknowme]

The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus (2009, Terry Gilliam)

03/05/2024

[sjsmith56]

Complicated - Day 3

Summary: Waking up as a prisoner of the Russian mob, Bucky formulates an escape plan. Everything is wrapped up at the end. Or is it?

Length: 5.7 K

Characters: Bucky, Rita, Sam, Joaquin, Fury, Maria Hill.

Warnings: Violence, betrayal, disappointment.

Author notes: See after the story to avoid spoilers.

<<Day 1. <<Day 2.

🏍️ 🪜🚪

When Bucky opened his eyes, he wasn’t expecting to be strapped into the seat of a memory suppression machine in the lit center of a dark room. His first instinct was to struggle against the restraints, hoping to break them, but they seemed to be as strong as he was. Even his vibranium arm had no effect on the metal restraint that clamped his forearm in place. A chuckle attracted his attention, and he looked in the direction it came from.

“You won’t be able to break out of these restraints, Soldat,” said Alexei Markov, accompanied by an older, sterner-looking man. “After the fall of Sokovia we sent teams into the ruins of that country looking for even the most microscopic particles of vibranium. It took years to collect it but when you resurfaced with a vibranium arm we knew it would go to good use in your recapture.

“The machine won’t work,” said Bucky. “The Soldat is gone, the words are gone, and all your efforts will be for nothing. The Avengers will find me.”

“They’ll be too late, Soldat,” said the older man. “Did you really think that HYDRA only created one Winter Soldier in your mind? Nine were created, but only one was ever accessed. There are eight more Soldats waiting to be activated.”

“I don’t believe you,” replied Bucky.

The older man glanced at someone to the side who came into the light. He held several books, just like the book that Colonel Karpov always had at the ready whenever Bucky was thawed out and activated. They were all red but the stars on the front were different colours. A trickle of sweat came down the side of Bucky’s face as he felt a current of fear begin to run through his veins. The older man smirked then pulled the book at the top of the pile into his hands. It had a blue star on the cover.

“Soldat siniy,” he said. “The blue soldier. Start the memory wipe.”

“No,” growled Bucky, starting to struggle. “No, I won’t go back to that. I won’t do it.”

The chair reclined, as he continued to fight and proclaim his defiance until the metal headpiece trapped his head into place. Gritting his teeth, he screamed when the first charge coursed through him. He lost count of how many charges went through his brain but when they stopped, he had no strength left to fight them. His name was lost to him, his body was useless, and all he remembered was that the words would soon come that would bring the Soldat out of sleep.

“Toska, okislyat’, tridsat’, voskhod, pech’,vosem’, bezvrednyy, privychnyy, dva, lokomotiv.”

As each word was said, the chair righted itself and the headpiece raised to its original position, Bucky felt himself sink further and further into oblivion while the next Soldat emerged. When he was greeted by the older man, and responded with his usual “Ready to comply,” the two men looked at each other with satisfaction. All of the crime families, not just Russian, would soon be under their control now that they had the Winter Soldier doing their bidding.

The older man, the Pakhan, looked at the Soldat and nodded to another man who brought Rita forward. She had been witness to everything that just happened. Any hope she had of staying alive were dashed when she heard the next words, spoken in English.

“Soldat,” said the Pakhan. “Kill the woman.”

Raising himself deliberately to a standing position, the Soldat approached Rita, focused only on her with his dark, emotionless eyes.

“Bucky, no,” she whispered. “This isn’t you. You’re Bucky Barnes, an Avenger. Stop, please Bucky.”

His vibranium hand circled her throat and he smiled a deadly smile at how flexible this new appendage was compared to the bulky titanium one he used to have when he was first programmed. She continued to say the name Bucky as he began squeezing the life out of her.

“Bucky.” It was just a whisper in the darkness of the nightmare, but it was a tether that brought him back from where his mind had been. “Bucky, wake up.”

His eyes opened to the worried face of a woman, Rita … her name was Rita, and she was alive. He hadn’t killed her. For a moment he was flooded with a sense of relief, then of shame and disgust, but she touched his cheeks this time and her soft skin felt so nice on him that he nodded and shifted his body, from his back to lying on his side.

“Where are we?” he muttered.

“Not sure,” she whispered. “They put a hood on me when the jet landed and only took it off when they shoved me in here with you. Are you alright?”

“Not yet. I had a nightmare.”

He lifted his hands to rub his face, surprised he didn’t lash out and hurt her during his nightmare, especially since his wrists were immobilized in restraints. Doing the best he could Bucky rubbed his eyes then raised himself to a sitting position. He and Rita were in a darkened room, but it was day outside as evidenced by the thin streams of light that came through the cracks around the window coverings. She was watching him carefully and he almost reached out to touch her face to reassure her.

“Are you alright? Have they hurt you?”

She shook her head. “He didn’t touch me. Before they knocked you out, he called you Soldat.”

“They know who I am,” he replied. “I’m guessing he wants to use me, use my skills, probably to consolidate power for his family.” He looked closer at her. “I won’t do it willingly, but he’ll probably threaten to hurt or kill you to force me. I won’t let them do that.”

“I’m sorry I got you into this,” said Rita. She looked down briefly. “You helped me without question and now they’re going to make you their slave.”

He smiled softly at her. “They’ll try.” He looked closer at the restraints around his wrists. “Probably a titanium alloy. Strong but not unbreakable if I can get the right leverage.”

“What do you need?” she asked.

“Liquid nitrogen would be the best,” he grinned, knowing it wasn’t something lying around. “Heat, hot enough to weaken it, a steel beam that I could hit it against. I could continually bash it against the wall until it breaks against the vibranium in my arm but that would alert them.”

“You don’t want much, do you?”

He gazed at Rita, his eyes soft. “Let me try to see if I can break the lock apart.”

Looking around the room for something to brace the restraint against he saw a plumbing stack, thinking it might be a drain from the roof, and went over to it, testing its strength. It seemed fairly sturdy but with the force he would have to use to break the restraint it could bring them running. He looked up at the ceiling, noticing it was the standard drop ceiling often found in commercial installations. If he could make sure Rita was safe then he could free himself and take care of anyone who came through the door, without having to defend her at the same time.

“You afraid of heights?” he asked.

“No, I don’t think so,” she replied, looking up at the ceiling, where he had been looking. “You want me to go through the ceiling?”

He nodded. “I’ll boost you up in the corner and you can lift the panel. If we’re in a warehouse there will be a structure that supports the roof. It should be strong enough to support you. Look for a trap door opening to the roof or a vent that you climb into that comes out there. You’ll be safer up there than here.”

“It’s still quite a distance,” she said looking up. “I don’t know if I’m tall enough to reach it even if I stand on your shoulders.”

“I know I can jump it,” he replied, thinking for a moment. “If you piggyback onto me that will take you high enough and you can climb through the panel.” The look of incredulity on her face was extreme but she kept looking between Bucky and the corner ceiling panel. “I can do it, easily. Do you trust me?”

“More than I should, I think,” said Rita, grinning.

“Would you go out with me?” asked Bucky impulsively, trying to match her grin. “I’ll treat you right.”

“Do the last two days count?” He smiled in response to that, a genuine smile that touched her. “If we get out of this, I’ll go anywhere with you.”

She surprised Bucky with a kiss, and he closed his eyes, savouring the feel of her soft lips on his. All too soon she pulled away and stood up, walking over to the corner then looking at him again. She nodded and he approached, kneeling down so she could climb onto his back. Wrapping her arms securely around his neck, then adjusting them so she didn’t choke him, she took a deep breath.

“Okay, I’m ready.”

Stepping back several steps Bucky ran and leaped up pushing aside the flimsy ceiling panel so that he could grasp the rafter that he hoped was above it. His hands were able to grasp something metal and he held on as Rita pushed the panel out of the way and lifted herself into the cavity.

“You’re right,” she said, excitedly, looking into the dim space. “There’re all sorts of metal roof trusses up here. I’ll have to stick to the edge as there’s a ledge here big enough to stand on.”

“Stay there, but put the panel back on,” said Bucky. “I’m going to try to break this restraint. If I have to fight them, you’re safer up here.”

“You’re coming back, right? I not going on without you,” she exclaimed, making him feel protective at the worry evident on her face.

“I’ll be right behind you,” he said. “But if I tell you to go you keep going, don’t look back. I can handle myself.”

“What if they taser you again?”

He gave her a grim smile but didn’t answer. Instead, he released his hold on the metal bracing, dropping back down to the floor. Looking up at her, he watched as she put the panel back into place. While she sat in the roof space, he approached the plumbing stack, then raised his restrained wrists, trying to figure out the angle that would hopefully do the most damage. Raising them over his head he struck the plumbing stack twice, hearing a crack. He pulled his wrists apart and heard another crack then the device broke apart just as the door opened and two guards came in. Throwing the broken pieces into their faces Bucky followed through with punches to their heads, knocking one of them out immediately and staggering the other. Before the other man could recover Bucky kicked him into the wall imbedding him in it. He placed two more punches knocking him out. Briefly looking out the door he didn’t see anyone, so he closed it and wedged both men against it. Quickly, he checked them for weapons, finding two handguns, which he shoved into his waistband, and a couple of knives, slipping them into his boots. They each had a cell phone, so he used the thumbprint of its owner to open one while he crushed the other. With the unlocked one in his hand, he dialled Sam, getting an answer within seconds.

“Sam, it’s me,” he said immediately without giving him a chance to answer. “Stolen phone. I’m going to leave the line open so you can trace it as I have no idea where we are. Gotta go.” He looked up at the corner. “Rita, I’m coming up.”

She pulled the ceiling panel out of the way, and he easily jumped up, leaving the phone on the ledge so the phone call would stay open. Placing the ceiling panel back into place he looked at Rita, smiling in triumph. Then he scanned the space they were in.

“I think there’s a door to the roof over there,” she said, pointing to a position on the far side of the building that was lit up by a glow from below. “I don’t think there’s a ceiling in that portion.”

“You’re right,” he replied. “That ladder against the wall leads to it. I’ll have to destroy it so they can’t follow us up.” He touched her arm. “You ready?”

She began working her way along the ledge, while he jumped from truss to truss. They heard a yell from where they had been then could hear orders being given in Russian to find them. Since they were still obscured, they kept moving, trying to keep their movement as quiet as they could. Finally, they reached the edge of the open area where the ladder to the roof door was located and peeked over the edge.

“Hurry, get to the door,” he whispered.

They had about 20 feet to get to it when someone yelled from the open area below them. Turning towards them Bucky used his vibranium arm to shield Rita as a couple of the men took potshots at them, then returned fire with one of the handguns, making the men below take cover. They fired back; the bullets hitting the steel beam, but he managed to divert the others with his metal arm until he was hit in the leg, making it buckle beneath him. Rita called out to him, but he still shielded her.

“Get to the door,” he insisted. “I can manage.”

“No, not without you,” she said, starting to come closer to him, reminding him of when Steve rescued him from the HYDRA facility in Austria.

A bullet hit a truss near her and ricocheted, making her duck, her face angry when she did.

“Damn it, Rita.” Bucky looked over at her. “Get to the door and get outside. Please. I’m coming, but you need to be safe first.”

Reluctantly, she continued working her way towards it then reached out to the ladder attached to the wall and began climbing up towards the door. When Bucky joined her, he looked down at the ladder in frustration, knowing they would send men up.

“Keep going, I’ll kick it away from the wall,” he said.

As she made her way through the door, he leaned back on the edge of it for leverage then began kicking the ladder away from the wall. One side came away and Bucky kept working at the other side as one of the Russians was climbing up. At least with him climbing they stopped shooting at Bucky, not wanting to risk hitting their own man. Slowly, the ladder began to loosen, and Bucky alternated both feet, working the metal away from the wall. The other side broke free from where it was secured and Bucky kept kicking at it, making it bend away. As the Russian reached that section of the ladder, he hesitated, unsure whether it would hold him. Taking that as his cue to leave Bucky stood up and went through the door to the roof. He slammed the door down then looked on the roof for something heavy enough to keep it closed, tearing an air conditioning unit from its mounting and dragging it over, preventing the door from being opened. Grasping Rita’s hand, they ran towards where there was more cover and huddled beside another air conditioning unit.

“Let me look at your wound,” said Rita.

“It’s nothing,” replied Bucky. “Once the bullet is out it will heal within hours.” He could see she didn’t believe him. “It’s a super soldier thing.”

“Does it hurt?”

“Yeah, but I can take it.” He smiled at her. “You did good down there, kept your cool. You’d make a good agent.” He looked down at his hands then at her again. “Did you mean what you said about following me anywhere?”

Rita seemed embarrassed. “I left a good job to follow Jason on his goal of becoming a professional poker player. He wasn’t the best man I ever committed to, but he was far from the worst, as bad as that sounds. What you’ve done for me in the last couple of days has been more than any other man I’ve been with.” She looked him straight in the eye. “How do you feel about me?”

They noticed a shadow pass over them, looking up in time to see Sam landing right beside them followed immediately by Joaquin.

“Fancy meeting you here,” joked Sam. “Leaving the phone open was a good idea. It led us straight to this place. Just waiting on the special forces squad to arrive as this whole dock area is crawling with mafia and we need the manpower. You up to helping?”

“He was shot in the leg,” said Rita.

“I’m fine,” countered Bucky. “It hardly hurts.”

“Is he always this stubborn?” she asked.

Bucky said no, while Sam and Joaquin both blurted out yes at the same time, making Rita laugh.

“You get used to it,” said Sam, then he lifted his head and looked off into the distance. “Roger that.” He turned back to the others. “Special forces are here. Torres can take Rita to the quinjet. You good to jump down or do you want an assist?”

“I’ll take the assist,” replied Bucky then put his hand on Rita’s arm before she went to Torres. “Stay in the quinjet and I’ll see you after.” He kissed her, as Sam and Joaquin rolled their eyes a little. “That’s how I feel about you.”

Joaquin held his arms out to Rita as Bucky moved towards Sam. “I won’t let you go,” he said, picking her up bridal style. As he rose up in the air, she cried out a little at the sensation of flying in his arms. “It’s okay. Sarge will kill me if I drop you.”

“Sarge?” she asked.

Joaquin grinned. “Yeah, he was a sergeant back in the day. Still in the reserves, I think. Definitely still capable as a soldier.”

As she was flown to the perimeter that had been set up around the dock area, Sam reached inside his chest pocket and came out with a comms piece for Bucky.

“So, you like her?” he asked, grinning while Bucky took a moment to insert the comms in his ear, and check the guns that he took from the two Russians.

“She handled herself well,” he replied, not wanting to meet his partner’s eyes at first, then he sighed. “She kissed me once and yeah; I liked the kiss and I like her. We had a few close emotional moments, none of them sexual. I didn’t ask her to do anything she was uncomfortable or afraid to do.”

“I was going to give you the warning to not expect a lasting relationship based on an intense shared emotional experience,” said Sam, “but that would sound like something Dr. Raynor would say.” Bucky glared at him. “But if you can match it with a physical attraction and a certain amount of friendship there’s likely no reason you can’t build on that foundation. It’s called Sternberg’s Triangular Theory of Love.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It means you might have a chance at something good with her,” said Sam. “She gives off good vibes.”

Both of them stopped bantering as a voice that Bucky recognized as Nick Fury’s dryly asked if they were finished their chat. Acknowledging that they were ready, the order to attack the various buildings inside the perimeter was given. Bucky looped his arm around Sam’s neck as he lifted off then removed it when the flyer was about ten feet off the ground, easily landing upright on his feet after he was dropped.

Several more Avengers, and a special forces unit were getting into position near the entries into the various warehouses. Approaching the closest one Bucky was acknowledged, and they burst through the door with weapons blazing.

About half a mile away Joaquin landed, gently letting Rita down then he took off into the sky. The ramp to the quinjet lowered to where an attractive dark-haired woman with a headset on appeared and gestured for her to come up. A man dressed in black with an eye-patch was inside in front of a row of monitors barking out orders.

“Miss Harmon?” asked the woman. “I’m Maria Hill. This is Nick Fury … Avengers boss. If you could sit here, we’ll get this raid done and over with. He wants to have a chat with you about your future.”

Doing as she was told Rita sat and watched the whole operation as it unfolded from the monitors, realizing that the Avenger operatives were all wearing body cameras, plus both of the winged men had them on remote units they controlled. She watched the several screens showing the different locations where an Avenger with special forces support were taking on gunmen. Occasionally, she would get a good look at Bucky in action, actually witnessing his strength and physicality on display for the first time. It was a revelation that confirmed what Torres said about Bucky’s capabilities as a soldier. It was also hotter than anything she had ever witnessed. She was interrupted by Fury suddenly barking out an order.

“We have a location on the Pakhan. If you’re anywhere near the stack of blue sea cans with a Hanjin logo get over there.”

She saw both Sam and Bucky change direction and head towards the area. Bucky was holding a machine gun, obviously taken from one of the Russians. Watching as Sam flew above and directed Bucky to where the boss of the Russian mafia family was with his bodyguards, even while he took fire from the ground, she suddenly blurted out her own observation.

“They’re circling behind Bucky. Cap needs to take them out.”

Fury looked back at her, as if he couldn’t believe she was telling him what to do. “You heard that? Barnes, watch your six. Cap, leave the Pakhan for a moment, and take out those who are trying to contain Barnes.”

She watched, fascinated, as Sam dealt with those gunmen behind Bucky while he kept advancing on the Pakhan. When he came around a sea can one of the bodyguards took a shot at him, which Bucky responded to with a short burst that hit the man, sending him down to the ground. The other bodyguard put himself in front of the older man as they both backed up to where a vehicle was. Knowing they would escape if they got in the car Bucky shot out the tire, causing the Pakhan to shake his fist at Bucky and yell something in Russian at him. Bucky yelled something back which made Fury and Hill smirk. It was obvious to Rita that they could understand Russian. As if he heard her ask what was said, Fury turned to Rita.

“The Pakhan said that was a $10,000 tire. Barnes told him for that price it should have been bulletproof instead of blowing just as easily as a $100 one. He got ripped off. The old man didn’t like that.”

His attention returned to the screens as team after team reported their objectives had been achieved. It was down to Bucky, the Pakhan and the bodyguard but Fury didn’t look worried. In fact, he looked impatient.

“Barnes, we’re already wrapping up everyone else,” he said. “You going to keep playing with him?”

“His people have been on my tail since Tuesday,” replied the super soldier. “I’m enjoying making him sweat a bit but if you really want me to reel him in, I can. Sam? Can you take the bodyguard for a ride?”

“Now you’re talking,” said the winged man, who swooped over the Pakhan, releasing a tether that caught the bodyguard around his ankle, yanking him up into the air for an upside-down flight. Bucky came out from his cover, advancing towards the head of the Russian mafia family. The man pulled a gun out from his jacket, firing at Bucky, who calmly put his vibranium hand out and deflected the bullets before standing in front of him and grabbing the gun out his hand. He said something to the man and this time Hill translated.

“One less Russian rat to trap,” she repeated.

“Is he always that calm and cool?” asked Rita, not quite believing that Bucky had just casually deflected bullets as if it were no big deal.

Fury shrugged. “He does get angry sometimes. I’m guessing he didn’t want you to see that part of him as it can be frightening.”

Bucky took the Pakhan’s arm and marched him back out to the open where he was taken into custody. Sam landed beside him, a big grin on his face, which disappeared when Bucky made two quick hand signals to him, signals that were noticed by Fury, as the super soldier then spoke.

“Have all the buildings on this dock under the Pakhan’s control been fully checked yet?”

The one-eyed man frowned at the question, seeing how tense Bucky looked on Sam’s video cam. Maria barked an order into her headset for a quick check of all buildings. As the different body cams showed the teams going through the structures again, they took fire inside a large plain concrete block building drawing the others to the action. Once the enemy was subdued, a body cam showed a door that was marked with Russian words in the Cyrillic alphabet and an outline of a star. Both Fury and Maria swore when they saw it and relayed the location to Bucky and Sam. Even from the screen Rita could see the look exchanged between the two men as they approached the building.

“What is it?” she asked. “What does it say on that door?”

Fury turned to Rita, giving her a different look that seemed colder and more calculating.

“It’s classified,” he said, then nodded at Maria. “Deep shadow conditions.”

“Understood,” she said, entering some commands on a keyboard. “Miss Harmon, we’re going to relocate you away from the command center. It’s for your own safety.” Two men in security gear appeared at the ramp. “Please go with them.”

“I don’t understand,” protested Rita.

“Let’s just say there are things about James Buchanan Barnes that aren’t well known,” said Fury. “If he wants you to know he’ll tell you, not us.” He glared at the two men. “Please escort Miss Harmon off the quinjet.”

When she left and was out of earshot, Fury turned back to the screen. “When did you know?” he asked Bucky.

“When I saw the Pakhan I knew for sure,” said Bucky. “There were lots of little things that didn’t seem suspicious on their own but taken together I knew something wasn’t quite right. She must have had a cell phone all along and kept them tracking us. Gudonov found us too easily which means they knew my bike already. More suspicions when the semi-trucks found us on the highway, and boxed us in. She wouldn’t leave me even though I asked her to run while I kept them busy, after running away from the church so easily. She didn’t seem to be very afraid of Markov when he took her into the limousine, even though she knew that he personally killed her boyfriend. They left us together in a poorly guarded room in the warehouse and had gunmen who couldn’t hit the broad side of a barn as they shot at us, because they weren’t even trying. The clincher was the Pakhan. I recognized him from a nightmare I had in the warehouse which means it was also a memory.”

“They wanted the Winter Soldier at their beck and call, except it didn’t work,” said Fury. “Hill, confirm Rita Harmon’s identity. Barnes, it’s up to you whether you want to open that door. It might be like opening Pandora’s Box.”

“I’ll do it,” he said. “If they have the books then I should be the one to burn them.”

“Alright, Cap, you go with him.”

“As if he had a choice,” replied Sam.

The two men entered the plain concrete block building that sat in the middle of the complex. Several other of the Avengers were there, nodding their support at Bucky as he walked past them towards the door, with the warning in Russian. Winter Star Lab. Authorized personnel only. The door was locked but Bucky punched the lock with his left fist, and it disconnected slightly, allowing him to pull it open. An overhead light came on as he stepped inside, and he was immediately taken back to the fluorescent lighting in many of the HYDRA labs; it’s artificial look making him feel queasy. More lights came on and he saw it completely then, another memory suppressing machine just like those that were used to shock his brain into something more pliable, something that would accept the Winter Soldier programming, except this one had vibranium restraints. He must have stood there for some time staring at it as Sam suddenly spoke.

“You alright?”

“No, I’m not alright,” replied Bucky. “This is nightmare stuff for me. How did they find out about the other Winter Soldier personalities?”

“They must have someone from HYDRA on their payroll,” said Sam. “They wouldn’t know that Shuri deactivated all of them by trial and error.”

“They put me through it, Sam,” stated Bucky. “I had a nightmare in that other warehouse, that they unlocked the second Winter Soldier and had me kill Rita. I was so relieved when I saw her that I didn’t panic. It wasn’t until I saw the Pakhan and recognized him from my dream that I realized it was a memory, a recent memory, except they didn’t activate me so maybe I imagined that part which made me think it was a dream.”

“But you woke up as yourself and she realized it didn’t take. So, she had a backup plan … to make you love her. Maybe, in her twisted mind she figured she could corrupt the real you by keeping you on the run for a bit longer and bind you to her.”

Bucky looked like he wanted to vomit and ran the back of his hand slowly across his mouth, as if to wipe away a bad taste. Sam stepped towards a locked cabinet and tugged on the handle then turned to Bucky, who yanked the door off. Inside were eight red books and this time Bucky did get sick, lurching towards a waste basket and spewing whatever was left in his stomach from his last meal.

“Confirm the books’ contents,” said Fury, then added. “When you’re ready.”

With a look of distaste on his face Bucky picked up the one with the blue star, flipping through it, then quickly going through the others.

“Confirmed,” he said. “Where did they find them?”

“Same place they found out about the other eight Soldats,” said Fury. “We’re going to have to interrogate her for that information. I can get a telepath ….”

“Let me have a try first,” said Bucky. “Sam, make sure these books aren’t seen by anyone else. I want to burn them myself.”

“What about the machine?” asked the winged man, gesturing to the black contraption behind them.

“I’ll pull it apart. Get a box for the vibranium pieces and return them to Wakanda. Then take the other pieces to a scrap metal place and make sure they’re melted down.”

As Sam searched for a couple of boxes, Bucky tore the machine apart, making sure that it looked nothing like what it was before. He picked up the vibranium pieces, putting them into one of the boxes while Sam put the books into the other. The two men left the lab and Bucky handed off the box of vibranium to Joaquin who was waiting outside. Several SHIELD agents entered the building to pick up the scrap metal of the now destroyed machine. While Sam and Joaquin returned to the quinjet with the others, Bucky walked to another building where Rita was under the guard of two SHIELD security agents. Outside the door Nick Fury stood, waiting for Bucky’s arrival. He looked sympathetically at the super soldier who stopped in front of his boss.

“I’m not going to hurt her, if you’re worried about that,” he said calmly, then he reached for the knife in his boot. “But I am going to make her very afraid so that talking to you will seem like a relief.”

“We used a telepath on Gudonov,” said Fury. “Her real name is Ekaterina Harnovsky, wife of Alexei Markov, American born of Russian parents, arranged marriage to pay off a debt. At least that part was true. Jason Tierney was a poker player they killed because he couldn’t pay his debt. He apparently was a regular at the diner you always stop at when you go to Delacroix by road. I guess he mentioned you were often there, and they likely hatched up the plan to bring you in. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry. If she had been the real thing, you could have had a good relationship.”

“Yeah,” replied Bucky, sounding unconvinced. Then he gave out a big sigh. “I better get on with it. It might take me a while to get over this.”

“Go back to Delacroix after,” said Fury. “Burn the books, take a week, more if you need it. The world will keep turning without you standing guard over it for a bit.”

Bucky nodded, then stepped past the man in black, opened the door to the office and waited while the two security agents left. With one last look at Fury, giving him a grim smile, he closed the door. Sometimes, a man had to do what had to be done. Didn’t mean he liked it.

💔 💔 💔

Author notes: Yearning, oxidize, thirty, sunrise, stove, eight, harmless, familiar, two, locomotive – words for the next iteration of the Winter Soldier, variations on a theme. Each of the subsequent soldiers would have had similar synonyms tailored for that personality, with the number of the personality (both backwards and forwards) in the sixth and ninth words in each command string.

The military hand signals Bucky gave to Sam and recognized by Fury and likely Hill indicated Hostage Enemy. Since Rita was the hostage, it would be the quickest way for Bucky to signal she wasn’t legit. She was very much a method actor with her performance knowing Bucky, with his skills, could see through her if she wasn’t convincing enough.

“Deep shadow conditions” is an “Easter egg” to Captain America and the Winter Soldier when Fury is being chased through Manhattan and he contacts Hill, giving her that phrase. It means the situation is changing quickly and you’re needed. In the context with identifying the Hostage as an Enemy it was also Fury’s way of getting Hill to put Rita into custody without letting on that they knew about her.

I really did try to give it a happy ending, but the story just kept pushing me towards Rita being part of it.

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