#yes they are both kaminskys

[wilwywaylan]

Have a very Crow-y Halloween, and other assorted birds-y one too !

The challenge was to keep their clothes somewhat accurate while making them birds. Wylan's outfit is inspired by Papageno's in the Magic Flute, and Genya's has shades of the ones used in Swan Lake. Nina's has been inspired by the hens in Tex Avery's movies. I had a lot of fun with the keftas !

I so want Matthias' fluffiest ever owl-coat. Also Kaz is wearing a well-known fur coat because I can.

Birds are : Matthias - Owl, Inej - Cormoran, Kaz - Crow, Jesper - Peacock, Wylan - Songbird, Genya - Swan, David - Mechanical Duck, Nikolai - Eagle, Darkling - I don't know and I don't want to know, Ivan and Fedyor - Hawks, and Nina - Hen.

[lassieposting]

Fedyor and Ivan, hovering in the hallway outside the war room, playing the world's quietest game of rock paper scissors ("best of three!") to decide who has to go firmly separate the General from the Little Palace's best vodka and put his ass to bed and maybe talk him through how to process getting ghosted by a girl like a normal person

[ameliathefatcat]

Here are my headcanons for the names of the some of Fireman Sam characters parents

Sam and Charlie- Julius Jones and Gwendolen ‘Gwen’ Jones (nee Peyton)

Penny- Allan ‘Al’ Morris and Patricia ‘Pattie’ Morris

Mike- Adam Flood and Mara Flood

Jodie and Ellie- Lawrence Phillips and Beatrice Phillips

Krystyna- Oskar Kaminski and Maria Kaminski. [Stepmother] Nancy Kaminski

Helen and Malcolm- Marvin Williams and Harriet ��Hallie’ Williams

Moose- Jonathan ‘Jon’ Roberts and Barbara ‘Barb’ Roberts (nee Levine)

Dilys Price- Stanley Price and Martha Price

Bronwyn Jones (nee Griffiths)- Gareth Griffiths and Sarah Griffiths

[shradsmanifestt]

DON'T QUIT, BECAUSE IT WILL MANIFEST

Feeling disappointed? Frustrated? I understand that it can be hard. But don't make it even harder by acknowledging what you don't want.

I understand you, I get you I really do, I've been through all of this myself. The crying, the anger, the frustration of why it isn't manifesting.

You need to trust that this works. Just trust your affirmations. Trust in yourself that you got this. There is no short cut to this. It's just about repeating and persisting. That's it. And yes it is that simple. No matter what your circumstances are.

If I could do it, if they could do it. You can do it too. You can. You really can

Choose not to give up. Choose to persist in your new story. Choose to be/ have exactly what you want. Choose your happiness. Choose to repeat what you want. That's it. When you feel down. Read my posts, watch some Rita Kaminski videos or Taylor Tookes (Love them both by the way ❤️) Do whatever to keep yourself motivated.

Remember this - if you wanna manifest it : Choose to persist on the fact that it is already yours. That's it. Choose to repeat it again and again. Choose to do this. Choose to not dwell in your circumstances or why it isn't yours.

SUCCESSFUL MANIFESTATION IS A MATTER OF CHOICE.

[riansdiary]

thoughts on creature-wizard.tumblr.com/tagged/law of assumption

Hi. Someone already sent me one of their posts and I already answered it. Here it is.

My thoughts on that are simple. Just because it doesn't work for you or you don't believe doesn't mean it's not helping a lot of people right now. They're talking mostly about Neville Goddard and yes he's the one who discovered but he's not the only one. There's also his teacher Abdullah who taught him that and I've learned mostly from my favorite loa YouTubers like Hyler, Indigo Detry, Rita Kaminski and Neyah.

I'm only applying what I learned and it helped me manifest. It works for me so I use it to manifest what I want. We're not a cult, just people who wanna learn how to make their lives better and create their reality. Most of us just want our dream lives and others even about intelligence, talents and inner things as well like health so we are not all about material and physical like they say. You can manifest both physical and inner things in the law of assumption.

It is simply a law like the law of gravity and it is also based on science. Ever heard of the reticular activating system? I just follow it to be the best version of myself and to live a better life. That's all there is to it. I feel like they are a bit closed off to it because they don't believe it and it feels forced, hateful and negative. It's like they're forcing it to be a bad thing and hating on people who made their lives better with this law. It's okay if they believe something else entirely but there's no need to shit on a whole community who wants to be a better version of themselves, get better grades in school or get their dream lives.

We are not saying to not share your opinion or whatever but what they're doing is hating us, making fun of us and just literally posting negative things about the whole community instead of posting things that they like.

[rose-sophia-isabella-rogers]

A Steel That Went Through Hottest Fire: Chapter XXI - Putting Down Roots

Chapter Summary: A sort of epilogue. Presenting how your and your loved ones' lives look few years after the war. Did you get your happy ending? Or maybe rather a happy beginning?

Pairing: Aleksander Kirigan/Reader, Zoya Nazyalensky/Nikolai Lantsov, Fedyor Kaminsky/Ivan, Genya Safin/David Kostyk

Characters: Aleksander Kirigan, Reader, Nikolai Lantsov, Genya Safin, Baghra, Ivan, Fedyor Kaminsky, Zoya Nazyalensky, David Kostyk

Word Count: 3915

A/N: Smut alert! If you don't like it or are underage, please, don't read from "'No, I've waited long enough,' he says and enters the bedroom with you." to basically the end of this scene. Enjoy! zyoma maya olya – moon of my life eya fyela chi – I love you

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

@budugu

@intothesoul

@mizelophsun11

@pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy

@zeeader

@marrymonrich

@wonderland2425

@chelseyyouraverageluigi

@thehufflepuffavenger1

@drinix

You sprint past the corridors of the Little Palace. People usually gasp when you suddenly show up.

'Out of my way!' you shout. 'Careful, coming through! Excuse me! Sorry! Move!'

Most of them quickly jump aside, used to it. It's not the first time they see you racing with time. Some even shake their heads, amused.

Finally, you reach the doors to Aleksander's chambers and open them with a flourish. You stop in the threshold, panting. The owner of the room raises his eyebrows, not moving an inch from his spot by his table.

'Well,' he says, glancing at his watch, 'cutting it close today. A few more minutes and I would go to drag you here myself.'

'This time it's the Queen's fault,' you say, rolling your eyes, and walk to join him. 'I swear, once she finally gives birth, I'm going to visit Nina and Matthias.'

'Can I come with you?' General asks, amused.

'Naturally,' you answer and kiss his cheek in greeting. 'I wasn't planning to go without you.'

You sigh and fall on your chair. The Darkling raises his eyebrows yet again.

'What?' you ask.

'You missed,' he answers. You look at him with confusion. He taps his lips with his finger. You roll your eyes but stand up. You lean down and join your lips. You both sigh and groan quietly. Even after all those years, kissing your husband gives you the same thrill as it did when your relationship began. Same goes with calling him your 'husband'.

'Much better,' Aleksander says, satisfied, when you pull away. You shake your head and sit back down. Kirigan pours you both teas.

'How was your day?' you ask.

'Tedious, as always,' he answers. 'Keeping Novyi Zem and Kerch from killing each other is becoming bothersome. The only reason they're not doing it is thanks to our Crows.'

'Bless their souls, even though they helped to bring you down during civil war,' you say. Your husband nods in agreement.

'You will have to show up tomorrow,' he continues. 'Nikolai has a mission for you.'

You wince. Just what you need.

'You know I hate those meetings,' you groan.

'You're the peace advisor, it's your duty,' the Darkling reminds you. 'The only reason you don't have to be on every one, is because you've been bolting them anyway, because you had new ideas your Durast mind had to test out at once.'

You narrow your eyes at him. He simply smiles and drinks a sip from his cup. He frowns instantly and looks at you with disbelief.

'Did you make my tea grow cold?' he asks.

'You know better than to annoy me,' you answer innocently and drink your perfectly warm tea. You sigh with content.

'I see your trainings with Zoya are going well,' Aleksander says.

'Yes, but I preferred them when she wasn't pregnant,' you say. 'Her hormones exhaust us both. I'm seriously wondering whether she's going to kill Nikolai one day.'

'No, he has a survival instinct,' Kirigan denies, shaking his head. 'The moment the hormones take over, he runs for safety.'

'And leaves me alone with her,' you add grimly. General pats your hand.

'Your sacrifice is noted and appreciated,' he says. You scoff but move your hand to squeeze his. Comfortable silence falls between you two.

'How are things between you and Baghra?' you ask at some point. Your husband shrugs.

'Better, but we still don't trust each other completely,' he answers. 'Which is not fair, because she seems to absolutely adore you. Especially when you scold me.'

'What can I say?' you ask with a grin. 'I've always been her favourite. And don't complain. I'm yours, too.'

'That you are,' the Darkling agrees, smirking at you. His gaze roams over your body. You shiver.

'Tease,' you say. 'I know very well we can't indulge now. You promised to visit young Grisha.'

'Yes, but while I'm away, I can give you something to think about,' he says, slowly standing up. You freeze with wide eyes.

'Aleksander Kirigan, don't you dare,' you warn him. But he stands in front of you and puts hands on the armrests, caging you.

'Or what, [Y/N] Kirigan?' he asks, already kissing your neck. You smile when he calls you that, as usual since you've taken his surname.

'Or I… I… I…' you try to say, but it's very hard to concentrate when he kisses you like that. He chuckles and joins your lips in a passionate, heated kiss. You moan and press yourself to him, wanting more. Needing him.

But he pulls away. You pout. He chuckles quietly.

'I hate you,' you murmur.

'We both know you love me,' he says, winking at you. He sits back down, as if nothing happened, and returns to drinking his tea with that mischievous smirk of his.

'I hope you realise I'm going to take my revenge later,' you say flatly, frustrated beyond measure.

'Oh, I'm counting on it,' he chuckles. You glare at him.

'I promise you, you're going to change your mind,' you say. Aleksander's smile drops when he sees the look in your eyes. He's actually a bit afraid now.

'Still, I can't wait,' he says, trying to regain his composure. You just hum and drink your tea. He can see in your eyes that your vicious mind is already plotting. He gulps. Now he's gone and done it. He's in trouble, he's sure of that.

*

When hours later Kirigan walks into your shared chambers, he's surprised to see the chambers covered in darkness. He walks tentatively into the room.

'Milaya?' he calls. He gets no answer. He looks into your bedroom but he doesn't find you there. He enters the bathroom… and freezes.

You're in the bathtub. The only source of light is the moonlight coming from the windows. Your body is almost completely in the water. Only your head, neck, collarbone, tips of your breasts and that taunting leg, that's hanging on the edge, are sticking out.

General gulps. Oh, he's in trouble now. He can see that. Even more when you lazily turn your head to him and smirk.

'Hi, honey,' you greet him. 'Do you want to join me?'

Instead of answering, the Darkling hastily undresses himself. He doesn't mind how it makes you laugh. He loves your laughter, so he's happy to hear it, even if you're laughing at him.

'Have I known this would greet me when I come back, I'd have tried to do it sooner,' he murmurs, hurrying to you.

'Well, it was your idea to leave me hot and bothered for a long time,' you point out, slowly raising, showing him more of your skin. He licks his lips.

'So, how are you going to take your revenge?' he asks, watching you straddling him.

'Well, I thought about it,' you start. 'And I decided it's not fun when you're expecting it. So, I'm going to take my revenge another day.'

'That's cruel,' Aleksander hums, kissing your chest, his hands on your hips. 'Now I'll be always anxious, wondering when you will strike.'

'Exactly my point,' you say, grinning, proud of yourself. Kirigan chuckles.

'Do you want to start here or wait for when we're in bed?' he asks huskily.

'Hm, that's a very good question,' you hum and start massaging him. He groans and closes his eyes. He throws his head back.

'Milaya…' he moans.

'Saints, you're really tense,' you say, frowning. 'Looks like you're getting a massage now and the good part will take place in bed.'

'Yes, please,' he grunts and grabs you tighter when you attempt to get up. 'But stay where you are.'

'That is not exactly a good position to give a massage,' you protest, raising your eyebrows. The Darkling opens his eyes and grins.

'But I have a better view,' he explains. You huff and roll your eyes. You shake your head and do your best to give him a massage while on his lap. Which turns out to be a torture because of his groans, moans and hands wandering on your body. Soon you're both hot and bothered.

'So, how about we wash quickly and move to bed?' you suggest some time later.

'Fine by me,' your husband answers, staring at you with lust. You quickly get off of him and you both clean each other. While brushing bodies occasionally, obviously. Finally, you get out, dry yourselves and…

'Aleksander!' you squeak, when he suddenly picks you up, not letting you dress yourself. 'Put me down!'

'No, I've waited long enough,' he says and enters the bedroom with you. There, he gently lays you on the bed. Immediately, he starts kissing every inch of your body he can. He hums, satisfied, when he reaches your womanhood.

'Already wet for me,' he purrs. 'Such a good girl.'

'Hello, I can see you're hard for me,' you huff. He looks up at you and you shiver from the dark look he gives you.

'Only for you,' he declares seriously, causing you to blush. Then, he starts preparing you for him. You gasp and moan, throwing your head back, when his fingers and tongue work magic on your private parts.

'Don't stop!' you gasp, clutching the sheets tightly. He doesn't. He keeps his ministrations until he has you ready for him, drenched in sweat and your wetness. He pulls away and looms over you.

'You're so beautiful,' he murmurs, gently caressing your body. 'My gorgeous wife. I still can't believe I get to call you that.'

'Feel as if only yesterday I was confessing my love to you, huh?' you ask.

'I've been such a fool, denying my feelings for you for so long,' Kirigan says and kisses you gently. 'But now… now I can scream them as many times as I want.'

You smile at him and cup his cheek. He nuzzles into it and presses his lips to your palm.

'Are you going to get inside me or not?' you ask after a moment. He barks a laugh and slowly slides himself into you. You both moan softly.

'Ready, milaya?' he asks after a moment. You nod and he starts moving. Slowly, at first. But he speeds up with time. He wants to hear you screaming as well. His name. How good he makes you feel. He wants everyone within reach to know you're his and he's yours.

'More!' you moan. 'Harder!'

The Darkling takes your legs and puts them on his shoulders. This allows him to thrust deeper into you. He's sure your hips are going to be bruised from how hard he's gripping you. Well, just more to your collection.

'Oh, yes!' you gasp, tangling your hands in his hair. You pull and he groans. He connects your lips and you make out passionately. You move your head and kiss his neck. He grunts when you bite him softly.

'You do realise I have a meeting with a Shu-Han ambassador tomorrow?' he asks, more amused than annoyed.

'I see how she's looking at you, why do you think I did that?' you ask and kiss the spot. 'She must understand you're taken.'

'Maybe you should kiss me in front of her,' he teases you. 'Like you did during that party years ago.'

'Don't tempt me,' you murmur and join your lips again. It's messier now. Your breathing is fast and laboured. You're both close, you can feel it. You moan and move your hips to match his thrusts. He groans and goes even faster.

'I'm gonna…' you pant a moment later.

'Together,' your husband says through greeted teeth. 'One… two… three! [Y/N]!'

'Aleksander!' you cry out, as you both reach your peak. You arch your back and smile, enjoying the feeling of Kirigan filling you up. You deflate after a minute or two, or more.

'Do you want to go again?' the Darkling asks, looking up at you. You laugh and kiss him. Something tells you it's going to be a long night.

*

Nikolai is taking a walk among the gardens of the Grand Palace. His mind is elsewhere, though. He doesn't even really notice when Kirigan joins him. For a long moment they stroll together in a comfortable silence.

'Congratulations,' Aleksander finally speaks up. 'You have an heir. The line of succession is secured.'

'Yes,' Lantsov mumbles, still in shock. 'I have a daughter. I'm a father. Saints. How did that happen?'

'I imagine you and Zoya-' General starts, amused. The King quickly elbows him to the side with a huff. The Darkling laughs.

'Remind me, why do I keep you around?' Nikolai sighs.

'Because I'm keeping your country safe,' the Shadow Summoner answers. They both stop. Lantsov looks ahead, in the direction of the city.

'It still feels strange,' he says after a beat. 'Our country at peace. Not in a war with anyone. I keep expecting it to explode in our faces.'

'It won't,' Aleksander assures him. 'We've made sure of that. Ravka is strong.'

'And it's a safe place for Grisha,' the King adds, looking at General. 'Like you've always wanted.'

'Yes,' Kirigan confirms, smiling. 'At long last.'

'And we're no longer poor. That's nice as well. I hated being dependant of other countries' good will.'

'You mean Kerch's good will.'

'Yes. Speaking of other countries… are you ready for yet another meeting with them?'

'Do I need to be there? It's your child.'

'Yes, but you're the Second's Army's general… and my friend. I need you there.'

'… Very well. But know I shall hate every moment of it.'

'You think I won't? All those fake smiles, congratulations, blessings… I know it's Zoya's revenge for making her go through birth.'

'That sounds like her.'

They turn around and head back to the Grand Palace. They both smile when they see near the entrance a small gathering consisting of you, David, Baghra and Genya. All of you are smiling. Even Baghra has a shadow of it on her face.

'Does she feel happy and safe?' Nikolai asks, looking at you.

'Yes,' Aleksander confirms, feeling warmth in his heart. 'Thank you.'

'Hey, you did all the hard work,' Lantsov insists. 'I just helped out. I mean, I couldn't really help it. You two have been melting my heart with your love practically since day one. I know you were too busy staring at [Y/N], but I actually cried on your wedding.'

'[Y/N] cried on yours,' Kirigan says. The King looks at him, intrigued.

'And you?' he teases. General chuckles.

'Maybe a little,' he admits. 'It was a beautiful ceremony. And it felt good to see Zoya so happy. And I was right. She's a marvellous queen.'

'Oh, I know,' Nikolai says with a stupid grin. 'I love seeing her showing everyone that there's no messing with her nor with Ravka.'

'I especially enjoy when they cower with fear, seeing her eyes changing to one's of a dragon,' the Darkling says and chuckles. 'After one of such meetings, [Y/N] asked me, troubled, if her eyes turn to the eyes of a bee's whenever she's angry.'

'I've never noticed,' Lantsov says and ponders. 'Do they?'

'They don't for some reason. Thankfully. I imagine she would lock herself in her chambers again if they were.'

'Small mercies.'

They stop. They know they have to join your group and go to accept the congratulations from the delegations of other countries. But neither of them wants to do that just yet.

'So, when can I expect little Kirigans running around?' the King asks, smirking.

'I don't know,' Aleksander answers wistfully. 'We're not rushing. It will come with time. Or maybe not at all. I think we're good with both.'

You finally notice them and smile. You start heading their way.

'How is it Zoya rarely smiles when she sees me and [Y/N] always smiles whenever she sees you?' Nikolai asks.

'She always does,' Kirigan denies. 'You're just not looking then.'

Lantsov stares at him, surprised. He opens his mouth to say something, but just then you join them.

'Everyone is ready,' you inform them. 'We're waiting just for you.'

'We know and we're trying to prolong the moment of going there,' the King explains. You roll your eyes.

'Now you know why I'm always late to the meetings,' you say.

'Can't say I blame you,' Nikolai admits and sighs. 'Shall we?'

'Give us a moment, will you?' the Darkling asks, his eyes focused only on your face.

'Which means you will be joining us in ten minutes,' Lantsov says and shrugs. 'Fine by me. Hah, take even half an hour. I won't mind. Not at all.'

He walks away and joins others. You and your husband stare at each other with smiles.

'Hi,' you say.

'Hey,' General says, grinning. He caresses your cheek. You lean into his touch.

'Moi sol ye tselai,' he murmurs, moving so his lips are above yours. You can't help but smile.

'Zyoma maya olya,' you say. His smile widens. He cups your face and kisses you softly.

'Eya fyela chi,' he says.

'Eya fyela chi,' you reply. He puts his arms around you and hugs you. You smile and breathe in his scent. Safe and sound. Loved. Not alone. You finally have what you've longed for your whole life.

*

Baghra stirs her tea, waiting. She knows he will come late, as usual. But there will be a smile on his face. A smile she hasn't seen since Luda. She chastised him for his love for her, then. She was foolish, she knows that now. His loneliness drove him to do the unspeakable things. But maybe it was meant to be. Otherwise, he wouldn't have met you. And she knows you're the one that's supposed to be with him. Forever.

There's a knock on the door. The old woman stops the smile forming on her face. Less late than usual, but still late.

'Come in,' she invites him. The door opens and Aleksander walks in. His cheeks are rosy, but she doubts it's from the cold, and there's a smile on his face, like she's expected.

'Forgive me, mother,' he says, taking off his cloak. 'I-'

'Was busy kissing your wife, I know,' she interrupts him and raises her eyebrows. 'Or doing something more with her.'

'Not this time,' he laughs and sits opposite to her. This time she can't hide her smile. He looks at her, puzzled.

'What is it?' he asks. She scoffs. Is it that surprising to see her smiling? Hm. Maybe it is.

'Nothing,' she quickly says. Her son raises his eyebrows. He crosses his legs and arms.

'I know very well it's not,' he says. 'So? Spill it.'

'How commanding,' she says, rolling her eyes. 'You know you're not the Black General here, but my son.'

'You keep reminding me that,' he says flatly. She bites her cheek. Wrong. She's trying to mend their relationship, they both are. But her defence mechanism is working, trying to protect herself, even from her own son. And he always puts his armour on then, also trying to keep himself from getting hurt.

'It's good to see you happy,' she finally manages to say. He blinks, honestly surprised.

'I am,' he says carefully. 'And I have no nefarious plans.'

'I know that you don't,' Baghra says. '[Y/N] is making sure of that. She really is all that matters to you. I'm… sorry I ever thought otherwise.'

'You had every reason not to trust my intentions,' Aleksander says after a pause. 'Even though I've wanted your trust. Wanted you to be proud of me.'

'I am now,' she says, looking him in the eyes. 'Truly.'

He stares at her for a moment. Something blossoms in his heart. Hope? Maybe it's not too late for them yet?

'Thank you,' he says. They talk and drink tea for some time since then. The moment is gone, they're back to guarding themselves, but they're more friendly toward one another. Small steps.

Finally, he puts his cloak back on and leaves his mother's hut. She still refuses to live in the Little Palace. Maybe once their relationship is better? Who knows.

Aleksander walks toward the Little Palace. Grisha who pass him salute him, bow their heads or even smile at him. A few now don't trust him. To others he has proven himself. He's also more open now, more cheerful, so he's not that fearsome anymore. Well, they're still afraid of him, of course, he's still powerful after all, but they're no longer awfully tense around him.

'General! General!' a little girl shouts, rushing to him with her friends. 'Will you play with us today?'

'I'm afraid I don't have time, Clara,' he chuckles. 'How about tomorrow at this hour?'

'Okay!' the little Grisha answers cheerfully and looks at him hopefully. 'Will you bring Lady [Y/N] with you?'

'I'll do my best to convince her to come,' he answers, winking. The girls squeal and run away. They stop a few feet ahead, turn and wave at him. He waves back and watches them joining other Grisha children. He shakes his head fondly and gets inside the Little Palace.

'General!' he hears a moment later behind him. He turns and sees Fedyor approaching him.

'What is it?' Kirigan asks. Kaminsky catches up to him.

'Are you going to dinner today?' he asks.

'I might as well,' the Darkling sighs. '[Y/N] said she has some project she wants to finish, so she may be late. Why?'

'I just wanted to warn you,' the Heartrender explains. 'Zoya said she may drop by.'

'Ah, good to know,' the Shadow Summoner says and nods. 'Thank you, Fedyor.'

'No problem,' Kaminsky says with a smile and goes on his way. Kirigan goes to his chambers and gets to work.

A few hours later he goes to the dining hall. He frowns, as he gets closer. Usually, he can already hear Grisha chatting. But now it's suspiciously silent. He cautiously opens the door.

He stops dead in his tracks. In the middle of the room, there is a giant birthday cake. Every Grisha is standing behind it, Nikolai and some officials as well. But his eyes are on you, standing a bit to the right to the cake (Ivan, obviously, close by). You smile.

'Happy birthday, Aleksander,' you say. 'Come here and make a wish.'

Suddenly, everything strange from today makes sense. How his mother has insisted he comes and visits her. How earlier you stopped him from getting in here, distracting him with kisses and sweet words. A surprise party. Just for him.

'You didn't have to,' he says, touched, as he walks to the cake.

'Shut up and blow out the candles, so I could have cake,' Zoya says. General chuckles and stops in front of the desert. He stares at it for a moment. Then, he closes his eyes and blows out the candles. Everyone cheers and the cake is quickly cut into pieces.

'Thank you, lapushka,' he says, when you walk to him. 'Truly.'

'Of course,' you say. 'You're not going to tell me your wish, are you?'

'No,' the Darkling says, pulling you to himself. He kisses the top of your head with a smile and looks around the room, at the happy faces, at his friends, thinking about his wish.

Please, let me, and people I care about, continue to be this happy.

A/N: Thank you so much for reading this story! Thank you for every comment, likes and reblogs, and I hope you will let me know what you think of this end. Because this is the finale of the story of Aleksander and his Durast Girl. I really hope you enjoyed it. As to what's next, I have some ideas, but I'm not sure when I will post something new with this pair. Thank you and I hope to see you again!

This story can also be found on Archive of Our Own: https://archiveofourown.org/works/52696933/chapters/135806941

[stranger-fanfiction-n-things]

CHAPTER 1: THE VANISHING OF WILL BYERS

This is an Original Character fanfiction. All Stranger Things characters and content are owned by Netflix and The Duffer Brothers.

a/n: This was my favourite part to write. I love Diana and Lucas scenes.

Word Count: 2917

Masterlist

PROLOGUE || PART I || PART II || PART III || PART IV

SINCLAIR RESIDENCE

Barb drops me home after school. I decide to study for Kaminsky’s test on my own. If I need help, I’ll call Barb. I open my front door, slipping my loafers off my feet. 

“Mom? Dad? I’m home!” I call out, closing the front door behind me. 

I take off my coat, hanging it on the coat hanger and pad down the foyer pass the sitting room towards the living room. Our home is open concept painted in muted colours of white and beige. On the light grey couch Erica is sitting watching television while playing with her dolls. 

“Hey monster,” I greet, kissing the top of her head. “Where’s mom and dad?” 

“They went to the supermarket; said they’ll be back in an hour.” She replies, looking at her dolls. “Aren’t you supposed to be at Nancy’s?” 

“Change of plans.” 

“Is it because of Will?” 

I frown shaking my head. “No, why would it be?

“I overheard mom talking to Miss Byers on the phone. Miss Byers says Will is missing.” 

I flinch, my heart plummeting to my stomach. I grip the back of the couch. “What?” I exclaim. “Didn’t the boys all leave Mike’s at the same time?”

Erica shrugs. “I don’t know.” 

“Where’s Lucas?” 

 “In his room.” 

I run up the stairs to his room finding the door closed. My heart flutters in my chest. A closed door is a bad sign. Lucas rarely kept his door closed. I gently knock.

“I said leave me alone, Erica!” Lucas snaps. 

 “It’s me,” I say, calmly. “Can I come in?” 

Lucas doesn’t respond.  A sudden stab of anxiety is in my gut and I rock back and forth on my feet. I understand Lucas not wanting to talk to Erica. She was eight and annoyed him to no end, but me? I can’t wait any longer and raise my hand to knock again when I hear the faintest ‘yes’ from the other side. I sigh in relief, scared of Lucas shutting me out and open the door. 

I poke my head in first, just to make sure I heard him properly. Lucas lay on his bed staring blankly up at the ceiling. He doesn’t flinch or twitch at my presence so I open the door wider, letting myself in before closing it shut behind me. Lucas kept a clean room. All of us did, not like we had much of a choice. Dad was serving in the Vietnam War when he met Mom and brought with him all his military training and customs when they decided to marry and raise a family together. I gradually extend my leg tendu devant, looking at the arch in my foot before relaxing it. 

For the first time ever, the room feels cold. Lucas still hasn’t moved from his bed or even acknowledged me and it worries me. I stroll to the bed, climbing on top and lie down beside him staring up at the ceiling. Even lying beside my little brother, I feel like I am miles away from him. I don’t know what to say. I never understood how Nancy and Mike could go hours without talking to each other in their house. It was like they lived separate lives. Not here. I want to be a part of Lucas and Erica’s lives. I want both of them to know they can talk to me about anything. I’ll always listen even if I don’t understand. 

I turn my head, gazing at Lucas. When I was three years old, I asked Santa for a little brother. Then Mom got pregnant with Lucas and I never stopped talking about it. I told anyone who would listen. Santa got me a little brother. When Mom and Dad brought Lucas home from the hospital, it was love at first sight. I knew from that moment on, I would do anything for him. Sometimes I think about Lucas and Erica growing up and get emotional. They were once so small and followed me everywhere. Now, they don’t care what I do. I miss the times when Mom would dress us three alike. It was ridiculous because I am four years older than Lucas and eight years older than Erica. I don’t know how Mom managed to get matching outfits in threes. I should ask her tonight at dinner. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Lucas asks. 

“Because I love you,” I reply without thinking. 

“You’re freaking me out.” 

I smile, turning my head back to the ceiling. The room feels warm again, but my smile fades. I have to ask the one question a person did not want to be asked when something was clearly wrong. 

“Are you okay?” 

Lucas doesn’t respond right away. I push down the panic bubbling in my chest and rely heavily on patience. A few minutes pass before he shrugs his shoulders. I try again. 

“Erica told me about Will. Do you want to talk about it?” 

No answer again. My stomach shrivels and panic rises in my chest. I push myself up to sit leaning back against a pillow and cross my legs. On instinct, I point my toes. 

“Can you please talk to me?” 

Lucas closes his eyes and I let out a deep sigh accepting defeat. I desperately want to know what he is thinking and feeling, but maybe now isn’t the time. I shuffle to the edge of the bed. 

“Will didn’t show up to school today.” 

My heart leaps in my chest and I look back at Lucas. His eyes are open again but he is still looking up at the ceiling. I lean back on the pillow, not daring to say another word. Lucas wants me to listen, not talk. 

“I thought he would show at for AV club at least. Mr. Clarke got the Heath Kit Ham Shack I’ve been telling you about,” he sits up leaning against the other pillow, tucking his knees close to his chest. “It’s so cool. Mr. Clarke says we can communicate with people as far as Australia.” He gushes with a faint smile. My heart warms at the joy in his dark brown eyes. “Me, Mike, and Dustin were using the Heath Kit, but I couldn’t stop thinking about Will and what he would think about it, y’know?” 

“Then Principal Coleman came and asked to speak to all of us. Chief Hopper was outside the classroom looking at us and I knew it had to be about Will. We follow Principal Coleman to his office and then Chief Hopper starts asking us a bunch of questions about Will, but we haven’t seen him since last night.” 

“Questions like what?” I ask. Lucas looks at me for the first time since entering his room. 

“Like, when was the last time we saw him? How does he get home? We were all trying to explain to Chief Hopper that Will takes Mirkwood to go home.” 

I tilt my head to the side inquisitively. 

“It’s where Cornwallis and Kerley meet.” Lucas explains. “We could’ve shown him but he told us to go home after school. He won’t even let us help him look for Will!”

“You are helping Chief Hopper find will, Lucas. If you boys didn’t tell him how Will gets home, he wouldn’t have known where to look.”

Lucas disagrees with my reasoning, wrinkling his nose and shaking his head. 

“No one in town even knows Will exists. Only we do.” Lucas spoke, expression full of disdain. “We know Will more than anyone here. It’s not fair for us to be stuck at home when he’s missing!” 

“I understand, but we don’t know what happened to Will. If he’s been kidnapped or if the person who took him is still out there. What if you go out there and something happens to you too?” 

“I have my wrist-rocket.” Lucas says matter-of-factly. 

My eyebrows go up at his response and I press my lips together to keep from laughing out loud. I know he isn’t kidding about the wrist-rocket and that’s what makes his answer so cute and endearing. I remember when Dad bought it for him and how against Mom was about it saying it was too dangerous for Lucas to have. Dad says the wrist-rocket is harmless, but I’ve seen Lucas practice with the sling-shot and it was far from harmless. 

“What’s so funny?” Lucas asks, squinting his eyes suspiciously. 

“Nothing is funny.” I reply, grinning as I slide down until my head touches the pillow. 

Lucas plops backwards onto the pillow with a ‘hmph’. I roll to my side facing him, knowing he was ignoring my stare again. Reaching out my hand, I poke his cheek with my finger. A faint smile appears on his pink lips and he rolls to his side, batting my hand away. I can see the sadness beneath his kind eyes and it makes my heart ache for him.  I know how much Will means to my brother and the boys. They were a unit. A family. I would be frustrated too if Nancy or Barbara went missing and I wasn’t allowed to help look for them. But I’m turning 16 and Lucas just turned 12. The risk of him endangering himself out there is far too great. 

Lucas shuffles closer, resting his forehead under my chin. On instinct, I wrap my arms around his back holding him close, drawing circles against his back. I close my eyes breathing in his scent. He smells of the outdoors and coconut oil. His shoulders relax beneath my fingers. Lucas would die if the boys knew he loves to cuddle. It’s something we did together often. On the couch, in our beds, on the floor. Sometimes Erica joins when she’s in the mood, but that was rare. We are quiet for a long moment enjoying each other’s company. 

“I think it’s best you stay inside and let Chief Hopper look for Will, okay?” I speak. “Wrist-rocket or not.” 

 Lucas sighs. “Okay.” 

 “We’re going to find Will. I promise.” 

Lucas doesn’t respond, instead he nuzzles against me. I peer over his shoulder at the window. I think about Jonathan and Miss Byers and can’t fathom to know how they must be feeling right now. Nothing ever happens in Hawkins. It’s a quiet suburban town outside the metropolis. People don’t go missing in Hawkins. Most of the town knew each other growing up or grew up together. It’s why Dad loves it here so much. Hawkins is safe. Peaceful. Unassuming. Everyone’s day starts and ends the same way every day. The disappearance of Will Byers frightens me for that reason. It doesn’t make sense for him to vanish on a route he took every day and if someone knew this and took Will…I shudder, pulling Lucas close. I can’t bear to think of someone doing that and hope Chief Hopper finds Will soon. 

Dinner was quiet tonight. No one brought up Will’s disappearance for the sake of Lucas, but it weighed down on all of us. Lucas went straight to his room closing the door behind him. 

“Give him space.” Dad said, looking down at Mom who looked like she was about to follow after him. 

That was over three hours ago. 

Heavy rain rattles the window and thunder booms and cracks in the sky. I rub my tired eyes reading through my cue cards. I made at least 50 cards to study from, each colour-coded according to chapter. I softly hum a sequence from the Swan Lake tape playing from my boom box and I glance at the clock at the corner of my night table. 10:13pm. I sit up in my bed twisting my body to the side to crack my back and slipped out of bed. 

Dad went to look for Will with the search party Chief Hopper gathered and came back about an hour ago. There was still no sign of him. I bend forward touching my hands to the floor and stretch out my hamstrings. Stretching calms me down. My anxiety is through the roof. The Nutcracker showcase, Kaminsky’s test, Will’s disappearance, and the emotional state of my brother, it all played out in a loop in my head. I lower to the floor and sit in a side straddle. While flexing my feet, I lie down on my stomach in a middle split and close my eyes. 

I breathe deeply, allowing my body to relax into the stretch. Despite everything being scrambled up in my brain, the one thought at the forefront is my brother. I feel for him. I feel with him. When we spoke in the afternoon, I saw the way his eyes lit up and how excited he was to see the Heath Kit Ham Shack. The way he immediately thought of Will…I open my eyes and sigh, swimming through the split until my feet are behind me. I know Dad said to give Lucas space and I honour his space, but that was three hours ago. I need to check on him. 

Mine and Erica’s rooms are across from Mom, Dad and Lucas’s rooms. I slowly open my door careful not to be loud. Mom and Dad are in their room watching the news in their room. I saunter across the hall to Lucas’s room and softly knock, waiting to be let in. Nothing. Maybe he’s sleeping. I turn the knob, carefully opening his door. The lights were off except for the bedside lamp. I frown at the lump under the covers. It’s too smooth. Lucas is a terrible sleeper; his bedsheet would’ve been halfway off his bed if he were really asleep. 

Unless.

No. He wouldn’t. Lucas is too smart to leave home at this night, especially in the middle of a storm. Checking to see if anyone was around, I tiptoe to his bed and peel off the covers. I freeze staring at the pillow posing as my brother. I want to scream. I want to call Mom and Dad. Instead, I count down from five in my head, willing my mind and body to relax and I pull the covers back over the pillow.   

This is so stupid, even for him. I am in the mudroom by the garage wearing a bright yellow raincoat, slipping on a pair of red rainboots. The moon shines bright, illuminating this side of the house. I stand up reaching for a long umbrella in the umbrella stand and a flashlight on the shelf. Lucas is just in the front yard, playing soccer. I lie to myself. I know I should get Mom and Dad, but with Will disappearing, I don’t want another unfortunate spectacle to happen in Hawkins. 

My senses heighten as I hear shuffling in the garage and I stand still in case my mind is playing tricks on me. The door to the mudroom opens and Lucas slowly enters, closing the door carefully behind him. Without thinking, I march towards him. 

“Lucas!” I whisper loudly. 

Lucas jumps in a startle and I cover his mouth before he has a chance to scream. Waking up the entire house is not part of my plan. Lucas’s eyes are wide and fearful. Upon realizing it’s only me, he sighs in relief. I remove my hand from his mouth pulling my hood off my head at the same time. I am so overcome with anger and relief; I don’t know whether to hug or hit him. 

“Were you outside this whole time?” I hiss, quietly. I don’t give him the chance to answer. “Where were you, Lucas? Please, please tell me you didn’t go out to look for Will on your own.” 

“I didn’t. I swear. I was with Dustin and Mike.” 

“Like that’s any better.” I retort. “You have got to be kidding me! Chief Hopper had a search party out looking for Will tonight, Lucas. dad went!” 

“We can’t just stay here and do nothing. We had to look for him ourselves. Will protected the Party from the Demogorgon, we had to at least try to find him.” 

I shake my head trying to make sense of what he just said. Demogorgon? I don’t know what he’s talking about. 

“What are you even saying right now? Do you know what time it is?” I don’t give him time to answer again. “You’re lucky it’s me and not mom and dad or worse Erica finding you.”

“I know.” 

I put my hands on his damp shoulders. “Don’t ever do that again.” 

“I won’t.” 

I sigh in relief, unbuttoning my raincoat. At least I don’t have to go outside in the rain. Lucas shrugs off his backpack and unzips his jacket, hanging it on the hanger. He then takes off his muddy running shoes, hiding them and picks up his backpack. By then, I am already in my pyjamas. 

“Diana?” Lucas says. I turn around. “Are you going to tell mom and dad?” he asks, eyes wary. 

 “No.” 

I know I should. But I won’t. Lucas is back in the house safe and sound. Mom and Dad don’t need to know what happened tonight. Lucas hugs me and I cringe, scrunching my nose. 

“Thank you. You’re the best.” 

“Ew, you’re cold and wet.” I grimace. “You need to take a shower before you get sick.” 

Lucas laughs quietly and I can’t help my smile. Eventually I hug him back kissing the top of his head. He’s safe and sound. That’s all that matters.

CHAPTER 2: THE WEIRDO ON MAPLE STREET

[bleepingheartrate]

May I present to you, the Eagle Prince of Tucson-

Lettow Kaminsky

He is of clan Gangrel, the so-called Eagle Prince (because of his cherished eagle, Riga) who owns the club Viper, a place where both mortals and undead alike can mingle (but you can't hunt there, neonate!)

If you didn't romance him, his dialogues are cordial and as professional as a vampire Prince can be. But if you did *fans myself* even your character (The Courier) would describe him with more *hand waves* flair.

Exhibit A & B of how caring Lettow can be to The Courier, or in this case, Raven the Aesthete.

in Exhibit A, Lettow is visibly concerned for your well-being first and then, he'll tell you what's up. When I didn't romance him, he's... well, "Where are you?" very professional. Then again, we were about to lay waste to the Second Inquisition, so it is understandable.

Exhibit B, though... ahem, let's just say that's a whole new paragraph than the usual 'shower, dress, and sleep' one. Aaand you can kinda tell they had at least you know, did it once. ... I think you can trigger it twice, though I forgot how and where. Or maybe even thrice???

Exhibit C & D of how exasperating Julian Sim can be, even to a Prince.

Ah, yes, the easy way Julian Sim can flip Lettow's calm. I'm still not over the fact that I can't kill him, Julian I mean. Or maybe, I could but I hadn't found the route yet. We'll see.

Another note on Julian Sim: you can totally romance him and Lettow at the same time, but do be prepared for a double whammy of disappointment. Let's just say one has a dead lover, the other is manipulative as fuck. It's in their veins to be instinctively backstabbing. Emotionally.

And of course, my favourite just yet, the Brujah who thought the Prince and his second in command to be, uh, lowlives.

psst. you're a Rebel, my guy, and a fucking courier! Stop this nonsense!!

And here's a bonus of from my dearest Brujah, Vane!

[qqueenofhades]

Completely shocking, out-of-the-blue prompt that I've never mentioned to you before, definitely not inspired by work:

Ivan is a grumpy librarian/archivist, and Fedyor is a researcher who comes by looking for information on Darklina and/or their connection to Nikolai, and he finds the background of a love story. Obviously, the main character is Ivan's Disgust at the Perception of Heterosexuality

The light in the windowless back office is dim, grainy, and often gives Ivan a headache within the first few hours of him getting to work, which is not ideal for improving his temper. (Then again, not much is.) And despite its flaws, he does vastly prefer it to actually having to interact with the library patrons, as there is literally nothing worse than that. Especially academics, who come in with their laundry lists and their obscure texts, their pet projects and their insistence that if he just looks harder, he's sure to find it this time. Ivan has entertained many, many happy visions of just walking out, locking the doors behind him, and setting the whole thing on fire. Not that he has done that, and he probably -- probably -- wouldn't. He needs this job. Employment for a notorious ex-special ops soldier is thin on the ground as it is, and especially when it means he can, if he plays his cards right, spend most of the day completely alone. But still.

It is now, however, winter break at Os Alta Imperial State University, which means the throngs of panicked students trying to finish their last-minute assignment have mercifully receded, and Ivan can mostly organize his boxes in peace. Or so he thinks, until the accursed tinkle of the Please Ring for Service bell summons him like a wrathful specter, sweater-clad and glowering, to the front desk. "What?!"

"Uh. Good morning to you too." The newcomer -- young, dark-haired, and holding a large manila folder which portends absolutely nothing good, raises both eyebrows. "Can I speak to the archivist?"

"You're speaking to him," Ivan growls. This welcome has caused more than one quaking undergraduate to flee in abject terror rather than ask for even one book, and he fondly hopes for a similar effect this time. But the newcomer -- too old for an undergrad, so probably an advanced doctoral candidate or junior lecturer -- is made of stronger stuff, and doesn't flinch. "Can I help you, Mr... ?"

"Doctor," the annoyingly handsome interloper (not that Ivan has noticed) informs him. "Dr. Fedyor Kaminsky. I'm the new lecturer in the history department, Modern Ravkan History, and I was hoping that you could retrieve a few records for me? Boxes..." He consults his notes. Ivan contemplates murder. "T-1343 and T-1345 especially?"

Oh, great. Not again. Kaminsky -- yes, he vaguely recalls that name, from a department telegram welcoming the new faculty and staff, but it is absolutely not germane to Ivan's further actions in any part. He knows what is in those boxes, and someone always thinks they'll find something there that hasn't already been found, removed, and/or heavily censored. Ravka's last tsar and tsaritsa, Nikolai Lantsov and his half-Shu queen, Alina Starkov, are a figure of fascination and mystery for plenty of people, even after the revolution and the establishment of the Konsilium and everything that befell them as a result. Especially their relationship with the so-called Darkling, Aleksander Morozova, one of the most enigmatic and controversial figures in all of Ravkan history. Doctor Fedyor Kaminsky thinks he's going to jump into his new job with that? Good luck.

"We don't have those boxes," Ivan says, which is almost true. The Konsilium strongly prefers, in general, that people don't look at them, and any other uncomfortable bits of their history. "Go away."

Fedyor Kaminsky folds his arms. "No."

Saints, Ivan thinks sourly. What has he done to deserve this purgatory? (The Konsilium has also tried to outlaw the Ravkan Faith, since they're all supposed to be modern and secular now and because nobody wants another Apparat, but old habits are hard to break.) He stares at Fedyor, who stares back. This is confounding. Why hasn't he run away in terror yet? Everyone else does.

"Sorry," Ivan says, and turns away. "Can't help. Good day."

Naturally, Fedyor Kaminsky does not take the hint. He's back again the next day, still politely and stubbornly repeating his request for those boxes, and when Ivan loathingly suggests that the library is on winter-break hours and does not have to accommodate him at all, cheerily asks if Ivan's boss, the director of special collections, would agree. The threat of workplace discipline (or Saints forbid, a note in his permanent file) is stiff enough to make Ivan finally, furiously recant. Fine. If Kaminsky wants to get himself fired before even finishing his first year, it's nothing to Ivan. Might be a perk.

So, when they're into the second week of the requests, Ivan gives in, stomps to the back, and angrily hauls down the boxes, which are gathering dust from all the times he has, according to the rules, refused access to them before. It's not wise for Fedyor to look at these materials in the open, so Ivan tells him to take them to one of the backside reading rooms -- which is right across from Ivan's office, and makes him grimly reflect that he should have planned it better. But Fedyor works steadily and mostly silently, which is always a commendation in Ivan's book, and finally, on one dead-silent freezing morning right after the Winter Fete, when they are literally the only two people in the library and probably all of campus, he gives in. "What are you looking for?"

Fedyor jumps, glancing up in patent surprise. They eye each other for a long moment, as if to be sure that Ivan Sakharov actually did, entirely of his own volition, initiate a conversation with another human being. Then finally, warily, he says, "What's it to you?"

Good, Ivan thinks. Good instincts, just in case I was in fact an informer for the Konsilium. "I don't care," he says aloud. "I was just curious. They seemed so important to you."

"I'm just working on something," Fedyor says, after a long pause. "Confirming a hypothesis. It'll probably get me into trouble, but -- " He shrugs, with no small amount of bitterness. "I'm used to that."

Ivan thinks about it. This can't go anywhere good, but they've been made a strange sort of partners in this buried secret, and he's almost gotten used to Fedyor working away outside his door. "What?"

"I think they were lovers," Fedyor says, after a final, reluctant moment. "Alina and the Darkling, that is, and then also Alina and Nikolai, and maybe all three of them together. I think it's a love story. And as for why this matters, well -- it wouldn't change anything about our own history right now, how it all ended. But the narrative has always been that the Darkling was this awful monster who had to be destroyed, and the Grisha were his secret shock troops determined to overthrow the country on his behalf, and that pulled Alina and Nikolai into some regrettable circumstance they couldn't control and that led to their tragic downfall -- you know. It's just..."

"What?"

"I don't think it's true." Fedyor shrugs again. "I think everything we know about our own past, about the fall of the Imperial House of Lantsov, and about the Grisha, is a lie. And if that's the case, then the Konsilium knows it, or has covered it up, and that means -- "

"Shut up," Ivan interrupts roughly. "Saints. Don't talk like that. Someone could hear you."

"You could hear me." Fedyor smiles a little, a shadowed eclipse, and it does something very strange to Ivan's innards. "Does that matter?"

"I... " Ivan's mouth is dry. He can't look away. Not for any reason that means anything. "Never mind," he says, which seems the best and safest option, if it isn't already far too late. "Go back to work."

Fedyor eyes him a moment longer, then nods, a deliberate motion indicating that he knows and understands Ivan is choosing to keep his secret. Ivan himself doesn't know why, or what it is about Doctor Kaminsky, the feckless and foolish and fearless, that's gotten under his skin. It could be -- but no, it's not, it can't be that. From time to time, the very brave or very stupid actually think that Ivan himself is good-looking and try to flirt, and once a woman actually asked him on a date, which was the worst moment of his entire life (does he look like a heterosexual?!?!) But it's just shallow, surface-level, not like they're seeing him. Not like they know what monstrosity lies beneath. I think it's a love story. As if love matters. As if love, and the simple truth of it, can change the course of history.

Ivan shudders, once and then again. He looks at Fedyor for a very long moment, allowing himself -- just for that short and fleeting instant -- to imagine something he can never, never have. He grieves for it as if it was real, and then he lets it go. Turns, and walks away.

[aboutzatanna]

Fulcanelli: The Lost Zatara Relative, Could He Be Zachary's Father?

So when I was going through Zatanna's team ups with the many Dr Fate's of the DCU, I stumbled upon a character who probably ought to be a bigger deal than he currently is.

The character debuted in Fate #10 when Zatanna teamed up with the Jared Stevens incarnation of Dr Fate or Fate as he called himself.

The issue was written by Steve Grant and Len Kaminski* with art by Anthony Willams and it takes place sometime after the death of Zatara.

*Kaminski recently had an accident that left him wheelchair with his care completely draining his finances. Consider donating to his GoFundMe and following his FB page for updates.

-

The story begins with Jared on the run after being framed for a plane explosion and finds himself hiding out at one of Zatanna's shows.

Zatanna is trying to get back her groove after being away from the stage show life for a while. Given the number of issues from that time that picks up shortly after Zatara's death, I should probably compile them all into one post.

As is often the case, Zatanna's show is interrupted by the arrival of cult who attempt to kill her and her fans.

She runs into Jared Stevens which also leads to a fight between her and one of the cult members named Strega:

You might have seen some of these scans posted elsewhere. As Zatanna mentions in the comic itself, she may be out of practice but she was never out of the game:

Zee recognizes the cult members and teleports herself and Fate to someone whom she claims is knowledgeable about them:

Though she introduces Fulcanelli as a friend of her father's here, we will soon learn there is more to it than that. But first:

The cult leaders hold Zatanna's fans hostage until she and her allies intervene and the fight leads to this:

Culminating in:

Yes, she calls him uncle while he calls her niece. So he wasn't just a friend of her father's. He was family.

(Pretty cool of her to give her fans a do-over show)

Sadly, Fulcanelli is never seen again. But Strega shows up just fine as part of the Conclave in Book of Fate #6, the other ongoing that Jared led. So hey, I guess that means that they are both no longer statues ? If you don't know, the Conclave is a group of both good and bad magical beings that interestingly enough, Zatanna was in charge of. I really need to read all of Jared Stevens appearances and the Underworld Unleashed cross over to get the full picture on this.

But lets get back to Evan Fulcanelli, named after the French alchemist Fulcanelli , whom we are introduced to as Zatara's friend but later revealed to be her uncle.

Her uncle who isn't flamboyant showman like his brother, someone who dabbled in alchemy instead of backwards magic and who knew the secrets of transmutation that made him the target of a cult thus forced to keep his existence a secret. Someone who didn't like magic and viewed it as the road to ones end.

Now, what if he was Zachary's father?

It would explain so many things. The biggest being why Zachary can't affect organic beings; his power is rooted in alchemy and why he never mentions his parents (because his father had to stay in hiding or is still a gold statue). It also opens up potential sources of conflict with Zachary wanting to follow in his uncle and cousin's footsteps but Fulcanelli not wanting him to go down that path.

I'm sure Len Kraminski and other writers didn't intend for Zachary's father to be Fulcanelli; Fate #10 came out in 1996, Kingdom Come came out in 1996 and Zachary Zatara wouldn't debut until 2006. Yet somehow it all fits. If there ever was a canonical character who just works as Zachary's father, Fulcanelli is the best bet.

Its sad that this is yet another Zatanna loose end but hopefully more people are aware of this character now. No, I'm not expecting DC to read a Tumblr blog and make additions to their canon but I figured this would be of interest to those of you who like writing fanfics and head canons.

As far as team ups go, this issue was a solid one. Zatanna wasn't treated as a damsel, the writer wasn't quick to take her out so the main hero can shine, in fact he does the opposite and gives her her own villain to fight, plus Zatanna and Jared work well together as a team.

As for Jared, he is one of those characters whom you find yourself reflexively rejecting because on the surface he is so emblematic of the 90's excess but so far, from what I have read of his two ongoings, they're both surprisingly descent.

And the writer even avoided the urge to have Zee pine for Jared. They end up sharing a meal, not a date:

[oluka]

@ the person who wanted a comic that focuses on tony unpacking his family trauma: while it's definitely not the same & marvel should do more, I strongly recommend len kaminski's iron man run (issues 284 - 288, 300, 313) because there we can read about tony's thoughts and feelings about his father's abuse & how he coped with it & what he did & didn't do because of it. I don't think any other run explored that part of his character as well & kaminski's run is still super underrated for some reason.

also, iron man : legacy of doom #2 is a comic where he talks about both his mother & father and it features a demonic version of howard.

Thanks for the recs, anon! I have read part of those issues, and I agree with you, it's a nice deep-dive into Tony's childhood and relationship with his father and to a lesser extent mother. I think it's also the first time that Tony is explicitly depicted as an arthuriana enthusiast.

I think that people mostly don't know much about Volume 1 Iron Man, except for the famous arcs like Demon in a Bottle, Armor Wars and Doomquest. It's understandable, since volume 1 is so long, and it can be hard to know what is worth reading or not. But yes, Kaminski's iron man run is definitely worth a read.

[stillwaitin76]

Thank you for the tag! Since you’re interested in hearing both my headcanons and ocs, here they are! For the characters Peter played:

Joel Cairo:

Ah yes, my blorbo. My scrunkly doo. Now, I don’t exactly see him being a good babysitter. If it isn’t his inherent responsibility, he doesn’t care much. Not to mention, he has temper tantrums like a little kid, so there would be one actual kid and one adult (who has a child’s immaturity). BUT, I feel he would be a pretty good parent. He knows the responsibilities with being a father and would take it on, if he felt like he could settle down. But I do see him being a “girl dad” more. In his words, “Boys are dumb. I should know, I’ve gotten caught up with the dumbest.”

But if you have a little girl, who came from a rough home-life, Joel will pamper and spoil the hell out of her! Besides the pampering, he’d be quite empathetic towards her and any problems or trauma she may face. Also, considering his knowledge on art, she could grow to have a nice academic background. Just be warned, he may teach her how to use a pistol…

Mr. Munsey:

I know this guy was from an unsold pilot but I know for a fact that he would be a great babysitter. He’s surprisingly gentle, despite the grumpy old man exterior. He’d teach the kids how to sculpt (probably with play-dough, as he doesn’t want them to eat his actual clay) and would tell them all kinds of stories from his past jobs. Plus, it’s a package deal! Henry would absolutely help out and would bring their kitten, Hannibal, alongside them.

Now for my lorre-inspired ocs and how they would fare…:

Harold Kaminsky:

Now, I love Harold. He’s one of my favorite ocs, but there’s one thing you have to know about him... He’s a ghost. So, if you’re a human kid and you come across him, you would probably run away before he could even say hello. But if you’re a monster parent looking for someone to babysit your kid, he probably still wouldn’t be your number one pick. He’s got a lack of focus and gets easily distracted. Not to mention, he’s more comparable to a wine aunt. He’ll spill all the tea you didn’t wanna know, but is an absolute blast to hang out with!

Niffty:

(Now, she isn’t exactly a oc. She’s from my rewrite of Hazbin Hotel, @hotter-than-hell-rewrite. But she’s my most recent Lorre oc/parody and I wanted to add her.)

Now Niffty isn’t the most, let’s say… “mentally healthy” soul. She’s kinda similar to the Igor archetype or Dr. Herman, and will do anything that her boss will tell her to do. But, she does love the idea of being a caring housewife figure! She’ll bake the kids cookies, join in on their games, help bandage any injuries they might get, etc. But don’t let her babysit especially impudent kids, they’ll probably make her cry. And don’t let the kids make a mess, for Satan’s sake! There’s a reason she’s a janitor in Hell!

Nikolai Corman:

Finally! We have someone who’s fit to be a babysitter, as that’s his unofficial job! He and his husbands, Clyde and Cornelius are macabre parodies of characters like Mary Poppins and Mrs. Piggle Wiggle. No matter how grumpy Nikolai may seem, he adores the latchkey kids that run around his home. He absolutely teaches the kids how to use the classic Lorre Puppy Dog Eyes™️ and tells them stories and cautionary tales from his motherland. Struwwellpeter anyone? Anyway, he and his husbands are very protective of the kids and are willing to help them with their problems.

(I need to redraw them, it’s been a hot second lol)

this is a silly question but I'm genuinely curious: which lorre characters would make the best babysitters?

LOVE this question.

Short answer: Just about all of them, depending on your views. Here are just a few - join in, folks!

Polo

You'll never have a better organized home once Polo becomes part of it! Particularly skilled at teaching youngsters how to organize jewelry boxes, heirlooms, and other portable items of worth. You've never been so clutter-free! And all with an uncrackable good humor and a smile so sweet, you'll want to keep him forever. Note: Polo is up for adoption; inquire at the agency.

Dr. Herman Einstein

Best at influencing future professions in the realm of reconstructive surgery or as distillery owners, Herman also teaches choice Germanic phrases and the art of leaving a room gracefully if quickly. Plus, you get a two-for-one deal: Herman is accompanied by his jovial pal, Uncle Jonathan, who has a full bag of tricks to amuse and divert your children. You'll never look at your sewing kit the same way again!

Dr. Gogol

A distant relation to Dr. Einstein, call on "Helping Hands" Gogol for the next level of medical profession influence in the surgical realm. His eccentric manner will delight and amaze your children as they learn the latest techniques. Includes field trips for research purposes. Preference given to neighborhoods near gallows. Note: Households must clear a space for Gogol's equipment, which includes a wax effigy - on which to demonstrate surgical techniques, of course.

Colonel Gimpy/The Baron

Are your children interested in the theatrical arts? Call on Colonel Gimpy - he'll get the whole neighborhood of kids learning all sorts of techniques, from the innocent art of misdirection to making amusing owl faces and blowing horns. And for children who prefer the art of gathering and imparting information, Gimpy provides his completely innocuous persona of The Baron. Set your child up with a lifetime of transferable skills!

[everlock101]

Shadow and Stardew

So this is just a ridiculous little thing that I'm writing for fun. If you like Stardew Valley and you like Shadow and Bone, you may like this.

I don't own any characters or settings. I'm just writing this for my own amusement. Enjoy!

Chapter One: A New Beginning

My feet ached. I was used to pain and exercise but walking all day for three days straight introduced my body to all sorts of new aches. Still, the tunnel was a sign of civilization. Surely I had to be close now. 

I emerged from the tunnel to see a turn off the main road and a sturdy fence. My shoulders slumped in relief under the weight of my pack. 

I picked up the pace and took the turn. A signpost stood ahead. 

Please, saints, let this be it! 

An arrow pointed to the left and read Pelican Town. 

“Thank the saints,” I gasped, suddenly feeling every bit of weariness. Still, I had to find the farm before I could collapse. 

I turned to the left and followed the path. 

It opened up into a town square. The buildings were all cute and unique, nothing like the city. 

As I looked around, the door to the building nearest me opened with a little jingle. A young man with messy, reddish brown hair stepped out. 

“Thanks, Dr. Kaminsky,” he called before the door shut. He was wearing a green coat that seemed too big for him and blue paint smeared his cheek. He turned and stopped as his eyes landed on me. 

“Oh, um, hi,” he greeted, blinking. I tried a smile. 

“Hi. Uh, my name’s Ketarina. I’m looking for the Demiov farm.” 

The young man blinked a moment longer and then shook himself. 

“Oh, yeah, well, it’s back that way past the willows. But it’s been abandoned for a while. It’s kind of a mess.” 

I glanced over my shoulder and spotted the willows at the far end of the path. Their branches swayed and blocked the rest of my sight. 

“Thank you,” I said, turning back to him. 

“Wylan,”  a woman’s voice called. We both turned and my eyes widened slightly. The most beautiful woman in the world strode toward us. Her hair was long and dark and glossy. She wore a lovely, dark blue dress that complimented her dark skin. I swore her cheekbones could cut glass. “Is everything alright?” 

She stopped beside the young man and eyed me with gorgeous blue eyes. My mouth went a bit dry. 

“Yes, ma’am,” the man, Wylan, replied. “I was just giving directions.”

The woman rolled her eyes.

“Don’t call me, ma’am. It’s just Zoya.” 

“Right, sorry. Um, nice to meet you.” 

Wylan darted off. I swallowed as the woman’s eyes fixed completely on me. 

“Hello, I am Zoya Nazyalensky, mayor of Pelican Town.” She strode over to me and stuck out her hand. Her nails were perfectly manicured. “And you are?” 

“Oh, um, Ketarina. Ketarina Demiov.” 

I went to shake her hand and hesitated. Our skin tones matched but only because my hand was filthy. Still, she didn't seem to mind as we shook hands. 

“Aw, are you related to Maxim Demiov?” 

“Yes. He was my grandfather.” 

“Hmm,” her eyes swept over me and I got the distinct impression that she was cataloging everything about me, from my snarled hair to my muddy boots. “I never met your grandfather though Botkin and Baghra have mentioned him.” 

That sparked my curiosity. I knew so little of my grandfather. 

“Well, I found out recently he left his farm to me. I came to see to it.” 

“Hmm, I don’t suppose you have proof of this.” 

I bristled a bit at that but nodded stiffly. 

“Yes. He sent a letter.” 

I reached behind me and pulled the envelope from the side pocket of my pack. I pulled the deed free and held it out to her. She examined it for a moment before I saw the subtlest relaxation of her perfect mouth. 

“Well, everything seems to be in order.” She handed it back to me and I tucked it away again. “Though, Wylan wasn’t lying. It’s quite a mess. Come.” 

With that, she strode past me down the path toward the willows. I blinked after her for a moment before hurrying to follow. 

She pushed through the swaying branches and I got my first look at my grandfather’s farm. 

“If anything, you and Wylan were understating,” I said as I looked over the plot. 

The first thing I noticed was the trees. There had been an orchard once, I could tell by the rows of evenly spaced trees, but other trees had popped up wildly. One had crashed into what looked to be an old barn. A dilapidated coop sat next to it. Broken fences were scattered about. Wild grass and bushes choked any available space. The well just to our left had crumbled. 

“As I said,” she replied with a sniff then gestured to the house. “Thankfully, your grandfather built his house well. I’ve checked up on it over the years and haven’t noticed any damage though I’ve never gone inside.” 

I turned my gaze to the house. It was a nice place, two stories with a big porch and a bright yellow door though the paint was flaking. I stepped onto the porch and felt the steps sag beneath my weight. 

The windows were too grimy to see through. I tried the doorknob and it rattled. 

“Do you have a key?” Zoya asked. I pulled my bag off my shoulder. My back instantly cried in relief. I dug around and fished out the key I had found with the letter. Trying the lock, the key fit perfectly.

I pushed open the door only to inhale a cloud of dust. I coughed and sneezed, my eyes watering. 

The door opened up into an open space. To my left was a kitchen. To my right were open spaces blocked by a half-wall. There was no furniture anywhere and a staircase stood directly opposite me.

I stepped inside, waving away the dust. I tried the light switch without much hope and was pleasantly surprised when the lights flared on.  

“Well, I suppose I’ll let you get settled,” Zoya announced, peering inside. 

“Thank you. I appreciate that.” 

She nodded and swept away in a new cloud of dust. I waited until her footsteps faded before shutting the door and looking around again. 

The grime on the windows and the light fixtures kept out a lot of the sunshine creating a dim gloam. Dust puffed over my boots with every step. Leaves and sticks had blown in at some time and lay scattered. Cobwebs filled every corner. I took a breath before opening the fridge but by the saint’s mercy, it had been cleaned out and still functioned. The cupboards were completely bare but the water ran in the sink.

I moved past the half-wall. A door in the left corner hung off its hinges revealing a small bathroom. A grimy fireplace stood in the center of the outside wall. Several stones lay scattered across the floor. 

I moved up the stairs and stepped onto the landing. To my right was an open door revealing a larger bathroom. Directly in front of me stood a closed door. I tried the knob and it turned. 

Inside was a small bedroom. A light hung from the ceiling and the closet doors stood open. A few hangers still hung on the metal rail. The only bit of furniture was a large oak desk that had been built into the wall. 

The second door in the hallway led to another empty bedroom. The final door at the end revealed the largest of the rooms with a master bathroom attached. This room still had an old dresser against one wall though when I tested the knobs, one of them broke off in my hand. 

“Alright, an empty house and a wild plot of land. Maybe if I’d gotten the letter when he first sent it, I wouldn’t have so much work ahead of me,” I muttered to myself, plopping down on the dusty floor. I watched a spider traipse across the wall as I tried to put my thoughts in order. 

Food first. Then I would get the house in order. Clean it up, at least get a mattress. 

I opened my backpack and began pulling things out; sleeping bag, coin pouch, extra clothes, mini crossbow, short blade, throwing knives, toiletries, and various other travel supplies. I checked the dresser for bugs before tucking my clothes and weapons inside though I did slip a slim throwing knife into the sheath in my boot. 

I grabbed my wallet and headed back down the stairs. I opened the front door just as a man had been about to knock on the other side. 

We both froze, startled, and then he hurriedly tugged the hat from his head. 

“Oh um, hello, the name’s Colm Fahey.” 

He had a deep, reassuring kind of voice that somehow made me relax. 

“Hello,” I greeted with a polite smile. 

“Sorry to bother you, miss. Words come round that you’re moving in here.” 

“Already? I’ve been here less than an hour.” 

At that, a smile filled his face and he gave a little shrug. 

“Small towns. News travels fast. I just wanted to introduce myself. I suppose I’m the closest thing to a neighbor.” He turned and pointed to the south toward a break in the trees that surrounded the plot. “I own the ranch just on the side of those trees there. I knew Maxim. Sold him a few animals over the years. He always treated me well.” 

“How well did you know him?” I asked as I stepped out onto the porch. Colm Fahey shrugged. 

“Mainly as a business partner. I sold him a few animals. He would sell me crops. We talked a bit but I was much younger than him.” 

“Well, thank you for telling me a bit about him.” I ran a hand over my hair. “I don’t suppose you know where a store is?” 

“Oh, of course. Right this way.” 

He led me down the steps and back up the road to the square. He pointed past the little clinic with the medical cross on the door to a larger brown building with a bulletin board pinned by the door. 

“That’s the general store. There’s also a Joja Mart across the bridge,” he traced his finger past the two buildings behind a house. 

“Thank you, Mr. Fahey.” 

He shook his head, giving me a kind, fatherly smile. 

“Just Colm. And it was my pleasure. Come by the ranch if you ever need anything.” 

He tipped his head to me and walked away to the south. As I watched, I saw him stop at the end of the road. A young man walked into view and paused as well. The two of them stared at each other for a moment before the young man quickly spun. Colm watched him go for a moment before turning to the right and vanishing around the house. 

Curious. 

I walked into the store, a bell jingling overhead. The store was cute and eclectic, selling everything from sugar to toothbrushes. A counter stood in the back with a young man behind it in a neat black suit, a cane leaning against the counter. He had sharp features and sharper eyes.

I grabbed a basket and began picking up the basics. As I moved through the store, a dark skinned woman emerged from the back door and moved over to the man, speaking quietly. 

Once my basket was full, I went to the register. The woman smiled warmly at me. The man’s expression didn’t change. 

“Hello, you must be Ketarina.” 

I couldn’t help a surprised chuckle. 

“I suppose I should get used to that.” 

She laughed. It was a lovely sound.

“It’s a small town. Here, let me ring you up. My name is Inej. This is my husband Kaz. We own the Crow General Store.” 

“It’s nice to meet you.” 

Kaz inclined his head in greeting before grabbing his cane and limping around the counter to one of the shelves. 

“Don’t worry about him,” Inej assured me as she finished ringing me up. “That’ll be five gold.” 

I paused in the act of reaching for my coin pouch and gave her a quizzical look. She smiled innocently at me. Instead of questioning my good fortune, I passed over the coin and accepted the paper bags. 

“Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome. And welcome to Pelican Town.” 

I nodded to Kaz as I passed. When I stepped outside, I smacked into someone hard and stumbled. Arms came up and caught me, keeping me and my bags upright. I looked up and felt my stomach swoop. 

Is everyone in this town ridiculously attractive?! First Zoya and then the married couple and now this man. Even Colm had obviously been attractive in his younger years.

“Hello there,” he greeted, a bemused smile curving his lips. 

“Um, hi.” 

I could feel the lean muscles in his arms and chest. His slate-gray eyes glimmered with amusement. He had a neatly trimmed beard the same ink-black as his hair. 

I jerked back and hopped to the side.

“Um, well, thanks. Sorry for running into you.” 

My cheeks blazed and I wanted to crawl into a hole. Did I really have to meet all these people looking like a swamp gremlin?

“That’s alright. You can run into me anytime.” 

His eyes danced. My cheeks grew hotter, the blush spreading to my neck. I spun and rushed off, hearing him chuckle behind me.

[marvelmusing]

A Dance

Pairing: Aleksander Morozov x Fem!Reader

Summary: Despite your position in the First Army, your mother is eager to see you married. As a result, you’re persuaded to attend the first ball of the season. Luckily your brother Ivan is there, along with husband, Fedoyr, and the charming General Kirigan.

A/N: Ivan and the reader are portrayed as brother and sister, but there’s no physical description of the reader or mentions of a biological relationship between them so it’s as inclusive as possible

My Masterlist

“Vanya, please.” You beg desperately.

Ivan takes in your wide eyes and panicked breathing. He doesn’t hesitate, responding immediately. His arm loops around yours, guiding the two of you through the crowd of nobles gathered in the main hall of the Grand Palace.

Your fingers curl into the thick fabric of his kefta, and your vision swims as you attempt to figure out where he’s leading you.

As your older brother, Ivan has always sought to protect you, and vice versa. You were the first person he told when he wanted to propose to Fedoyr, and you’ve supported his every decision with unwavering loyalty.

The same can’t be said for your mother. She has always harboured a thinly veiled disdain for Grisha, particularly their General - the Darkling.

As Ravka’s lead cartographer and strategist, you have worked hard to secure your position as a Lieutenant of the First Army. Unfortunately, that does not provide you with an excuse to avoid this year’s courting season.

Ivan steers you both to the other side of the room, and you soon notice the two figures he is approaching.

You manage to smile briefly at Fedoyr, and his expression warms at the sight of you on Ivan’s arm. The two of you have always gotten along, much to Ivan’s faux exasperation.

“General,” Ivan greets the Darkling with a respectful nod. “May I present my sister.” He introduces you, and the General takes your hand carefully within his own. You drop into a short curtsy as he brings your hand to his lips, pressing a delicate kiss that you can feel warming it’s way through the fabric of your glove.

“Lieutenant Volkova, isn’t it?” The sound of your title, the one you earned not the one you were born with, brings a smile to your face. You’re surprised the General remembers your name, Ivan had taken Fedoyr’s last name. He was more a Kaminsky than he was ever a Volkov.

“Yes sir. It’s a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance.”

“I believe you are to meet with me at the Little Palace in a few days time, Lieutenant.” Some of the tension leaves your shoulders, reassured by the reminder that you’re more than the pampered and prettied version of you thrust under the eyes of the court.

“That is correct sir.”

Ivan is in the middle of explaining that your mother had coerced you into partaking in this year’s season, when Fedoyr interrupts with a warning of,

“Incoming.” You turn your head in the direction of his gaze. Your mother is making her way towards your small group, and your heart rate picks up. She doesn’t waste time with a polite greeting.

“The Duke of Halmhend has requested your hand for the evening.”

Your stomach turns as you spot the man your mother is referring to. The Duke of Halmhend is a reasonably attractive man, and can often be somewhat charming.

It wasn’t often that you visited your family home, but during your last few visits the Duke had also miraculously dropped by for a visit. You don’t appreciate your mother’s attempts at matchmaking. Especially when the man is a Fjerdan Duke, who is also notoriously anti-Grisha and not particularly fond of Ravka - the country that you love and serve.

You find yourself lying on instinct.

“Please express my apologies to the Duke, but General Kirigan has already offered himself as my consort for the evening.” She doesn’t try to hide her displeasure.

“General Kirigan?” You smile and nod, hoping to every Saint above that she doesn’t cause any sort of scene.

“Isn’t that kind of him, madraya?”

She barely looks at the General, instead deciding to gift you with a rather frosty look before saying,

“I suppose I will be informing the Duke.” She spares Ivan a brief glance, before adding a sharp, “Good evening.”

The two of you breathe a sigh of relief, both of your shoulders slumping slightly as she disappears into the crowd.

“Saints, I can’t breathe.” You remark, fluttering your fan in attempt to cool the panicked flush from your skin. Your heart slows slightly, and your lungs feel less heavy. A small smile quirks at your lips as you spot a familiar hand movement from Ivan. “Don’t let mother catch you doing that.”

There’s a touch of sadness in your shared expression, and he squeezes your elbow between his fingers. You swallow hard, looking down at the skirt of your dress.

“I can’t marry him Vanya.” You admit, struggling through the emotion gathered in your throat. “He wants heirs. I refuse to bring children into a war torn world, and if they’re born Grisha… you know what he’ll do.”

He regards you solemnly. He knows what you mean. The unfortunate accidents that befall Grisha children from noble families who showcase their abilities too soon. Luckily Ivan’s power revealed itself when he was old enough to know he needed to hide it, until the Grisha testers arrived.

You had begged them to test you too, but you were otkazat’sya through and through. Despite the differences between you both, you would always have each other’s backs. You had lost your brother’s and your father to the war. Ivan was all you had left.

His arm curls around your waist, keeping you close, and staring down any man who considers approaching your group. Not that anyone would dare to with the Black General standing in front of you.

You had never met the General before, but Ivan had always spoke highly of him. You admired the man, who had provided your brother with a safe place to live and to achieve all he had done. The General was well known as the leader of the Second Army, and as a shadow summoner, the descendant of the Black Heretic.

Now that the man was standing in front of you, you couldn’t help but admire him for another reason. His black kefta fits his form perfectly, and the colour ensures that he stands out amongst the other keftas and bright colours worn by members of the court. His dark hair is thick, with not a strand out of place. You can’t deny the warmth that bloomed under your skin when his deep, dark eyes had met your own.

“You won’t marry him.” Ivan insists. Your brother has always been determined, a trait inherited from your father. A small, bitter smile tugs at your lips.

“There’s not much you can do Ivan. You’re practically estranged.”

“I don’t care. You’re not marrying him.” You nod in agreement.

“I’m not.”

The General steps away slightly, before turning to directly face you. The three of you all look at him curiously.

“I believe the waltz will be starting soon.” He informs you, holding his hand out towards you. Your cheeks warm, and you hurry to assure him.

“Thank you sir, but you don’t need to. I only sought to escape from the Duke.”

“And when the dancing begins and you appear to be unattended? Do you believe he will leave you in peace for the evening?” Your lips part as you attempt to refuse his offer. But he’s right. Not only that, but the thought of dancing with the General has butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

The General’s hand doesn’t drop, as he glances between your eyes and Ivan’s face.

“May I?” His voice is soft, asking for your consent as well as Ivan’s permission. Your eyes flicker to your brother, who nods.

“If it’s what you want.” He tells you quietly. You nod with a smile, before taking the General’s outstretched hand. Even through your gloves, you can feel the firm warmth of his fingers as they curl around your own. He smiles widely at you, and your heart skips for a moment. Your cheeks warm, knowing that Ivan and Fedoyr can both sense your reaction.

The crowd parts as he leads you towards the dance floor of the hall, giving you enough room to walk beside him and you can’t help but lean a little closer as you make your way through the people surrounding you.

“I’m not much of a dancer.” You warn him quietly, and the corner of his mouth quirks.

“I’m more than willing to offer instruction, Lieutenant.” His attention makes you giddy, and you can hardly stop the smile that spreads over your face.

When you reach the near centre of the dance floor, the General stops. Several couples have also gathered for the first dance of the season, an event that will either make or break a budding courtship.

You look down at your feet, ensuring that you’re in the correct position. The corner of his mouth quirks again, and the General’s arm slides perfectly around your waist. He nudges his palm against your lower back, encouraging you to take a step towards him.

“A little closer, don’t you think?” His eyes flicker down to your lips, and your own eyes are fixed on his. You can only nod, a little star stuck, as you step closer, your chest against his. His hand is warm and secure on your waist, and you have no fear of falling or making a fool of yourself.

Devoting all your time and energy into the war effort has given you scarce opportunities to dance, and never with such an alluring partner. Nerves take hold of you briefly, and you look down to ensure that you’re not about to trip over your feet.

The General’s finger hooks under your chin, guiding your eyes back up to meet his. There’s a reassuring warmth in his dark eyes.

“Just keep your eyes on me, and you’ll be fine.”

For the first time this evening, you finally feel like you can breathe.

[rose-sophia-isabella-rogers]

A Steel That Went Through Hottest Fire: Chapter XV - Shades of the Past

Chapter Summary: On your way to Os Alta, you reminiscence about what happened after Aleksander died. Once you reach the capital, you search for your friends to plan your next moves. But instead you find something unexpected.

Pairing: Aleksander Kirigan/Reader, Nikolai Lantsov/Zoya Nazyalensky, David Kostyk/Genya Safin

Characters: Aleksander Kirigan, Reader, Zoya Nazyalensky, Nikolai Lantsov, Yuri Vedenen, Fedyor Kaminsky, Ivan, Baghra, Isaak Andreyev, Genya Safin, David Kostyk, Tolya Yul-Bataar, Tamar Kir-Bataar

Word Count: 4936

A/N: This is the last chapter that has excerpts from "King of Scars". I haven't read "Rule of Wolves" yet, so from now on it will be fully my imagination. Enjoy!

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

@budugu

@intothesoul

@mizelophsun11

@pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy

@zeeader

@marrymonrich

@wonderland2425

@chelseyyouraverageluigi

@thehufflepuffavenger1

@drinix

You sat in a tent, guarded by one Heartrender. He was eyeing you with open hostility and was on his guard. Not that it mattered to you. Neither his opinion nor his vigilance. You were not intending to escape anyway.

Out of the blue, the Grisha fell on the ground and started snoring. You stared at him, dumbfounded. The flaps of the tent moved aside and you saw two familiar faces, one of them grinning at you.

'Fedyor? Ivan?' you asked, stunned. They walked inside and headed your way.

'You're really fast on a horse when you want to,' Kaminsky said and reached for your bonds. 'We were too late to stop them from taking you, but your rescue is here now.'

'No,' you protested sharply, pulling your hands out of Heartrenders reach. They looked at you with confusion. You exhaled shakily.

'I'm exactly where I want to be,' you explained, which got you doubtful looks. 'Well, at least where I need to be.'

'[Y/N]...' Fedyor says softly. 'Don't give up on your life. Nor punish yourself for his choices. He wouldn't want that.'

'I'm not,' you assured them and looked at them with determination. 'If… When I'm taken to the tent he's held in, can you knock out the guard and join me there?'

'Are we going to steal his body?' Ivan asked, interested. You smiled and answered:

'Something like that, yes. Oh, and find some dead body that looks similar to him.'

Not long after you were taken to the tent in which Aleksander's body is being guarded, so no one would attempt what you're about to. For a moment you stared at his peaceful face. Your heart broke once more.

Then the guard that was with you fell asleep on a chair he's sitting on. You didn't even turn when Fedyor and Ivan walked in, dragging a body with them.

'I'm really surprised no one paid any attention to us,' Kaminsky comments, once they drop the body next to you.

'We acted like we belonged, so why would they?' Ivan asked. His lover shrugs and they both look at Kirigan's body. Silence fell. You caressed his cheek gently.

'So… what exactly are we going to do?' Ivan finally asks.

'How are your tailoring skills?' you questioned. The Heartrenders exchange a surprised look.

'Um… we weren't exactly taught that,' Fedyor admitted. 'We just know the basics.'

'It's enough,' you said. 'We just need it to hold until the funeral.'

The Heartrenders didn't ask more questions for now and got to work. Once the fake body was ready, you prepared it: combed hair, folded hands on chest…

'And what about…?' Ivan asked, looking at the Darkling's body that was now lying on the ground. You kneeled by it.

'We're going to hide it in the sands of the Fold,' you said. 'Make sure no one comes in too early. I'm not sure how long it will take.'

You took a moment to look one last time for Saints know how long at his face. You put your hands on his chest and did what you could to make sure the body will preserve for a long time. You pressed a kiss to his forehead and pressed your palms to the ground. Slowly, his body sank in the ground. You asked the earth, stones, sands to take it and keep it safe in the place he died. Once you were done, you were sweating and breathing heavily.

'Was there a point in all of this?' Ivan asked. 'Or we just don't want him to burn?'

'We're going to bring him back,' you explained after a moment, surprising both men. 'He's not completely gone. Some of his power is still in this world. It's enough to make him alive again. We just have to wait for an opportune moment.'

'How long?' Fedyor asked.

'As long as it's needed,' you answered.

'And where did his power preserve?' Ivan questioned.

'In Nikolai Lantsov,' you revealed, once again shocking the men. They had more questions but your time was up. You made plans. They were to stay hidden, keep a close eye on the Fold, until you were going to be free and knew how to bring Aleksander back.

Once every detail was settled, the Heartrenders hugged you goodbye, not really wanting to leave you to be locked in a cell. But they went and woke up the guard.

He did it slowly, but once he realised that he must have fallen asleep, he sat up with alarm. His eyes found you, standing by the Darkling's body, looking at him with amusement. He blushed and looked down. You shook your head and did the finishing touches on 'Kirigan's' body. All that was left was to burn it.

That night you fell asleep in the tent. But you dream of another tent. You're standing in the middle of the place you had spent your last sweet moments with him. You could feel him behind you, staring at you.

'Is it a nice dream or will it turn into a nightmare soon?' you asked.

'What if I told you that it's not a dream at all?' the Darkling asked. You heard him walking slowly toward you.

'I'm not stupid, I know it is,' you said. 'You're dead, Aleksander. I held you when you died.'

'You also know a part of me is still alive,' he said, his breath tickling your neck. 'You felt it. And you decided to preserve my body in hopes of bringing me back. I'm grateful for that. And aware I don't deserve you.'

'No, you don't,' you agreed. 'But I still want only you. I'm scared.'

He hugged you from behind. You closed your eyes, biting your lips so as not to whimper. It felt so real.

'I know, milaya,' he whispered. 'I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. But please, hold on. Be brave. And once we're reunited, I will never leave you. I swear. I'll keep you safe and make you happy. Please, believe me.'

'And what then?' you asked. 'I bring you back and what will you do?'

'Whatever I must to keep you, Grisha and this country safe,' he answered after a pause. You shook your head with a bitter smile.

'Even after you died… you'll never change,' you said and pulled away from his embrace.

'What would you want me to do?' Kirigan asked. You thought for a moment.

'I would want to live in peace with others by your side,' you finally said. 'And if not, I'd like to leave all of this behind and just spend the rest of my life with you. Not fighting. Just living.'

'I don't know if I can do it,' the Darkling said after a moment. You smiled sadly.

'I know,' you whispered. 'But that's okay. I'll still bring you back and stay by your side. Until I can't anymore.'

'Milaya…' he said, his voice heartbroken. He hated to see you so hurt. Hated to be the reason you're in pain. He reached out with his hand to you, but eventually he let it drop.

'Why won't you look at me?' he asked.

'Because it would hurt too much,' you answered after a moment, your voice shaking. 'Seeing you alive, moving, with your eyes open. And knowing that when I wake up… it won't be real.'

'[Y/N]-' Aleksander said, reaching to you again, with tears in his eyes. But before he could finish, the dream was over. You opened your eyes and found yourself back in that other tent. Alone once more.

*

You were sitting on a cold floor, your knees pushed to the chest, spread and bound hands around them. Your eyes were focused on the ceiling above. Not that you could see much with so little light. Time no longer existed for you. It was just this – an empty cell, loneliness, silence…

Suddenly, there was a sound of coming footsteps. A little more light. Someone unlocking the door. More footsteps. The door closing again and retreating footsteps. A sigh.

'Something interesting up there?' Baghra asked.

'A crack in the ceiling,' you answered. 'A spider about to eat a fly. He moved in here yesterday and already ate three flies. I especially like him for eating this one. It annoyed me to no end. Go Herbert.'

'You named a spider,' Baghra said flatly.

'I must do something not to go mad,' you pointed out and finally looked at her. She looked at you with sadness that deepened when she took a good look on you.

Your cheeks were hollow. It was hard to see in this light, but she could tell your skin was yellow. There were dark circles under your eyes. Your mouth was dry and cracked. You were so thin you could be mistaken for a skeleton. Your hair was tangled and matte. But your eyes were the worst. Empty. With no spark whatsoever.

'You could escape,' Baghra said after a moment of silence. You tilted your head curiously.

'And then what?' you asked.

'Live a life,' the old women answered. 'You wouldn't be hunted. I would see to that. You could have a chance at something. And not this. You're a shadow of your former self.'

'Well, I can't use my powers,' you snarled, moving your bound hands. 'Also, I get enough food and water to be alive. And there's also very little light here. What do you expect? That I flourish here?'

'Then escape and find a reason to live,' Baghra said sternly but then her look softened. 'It's what he would want.'

You stiffened and your look hardened. You narrowed your eyes.

'I'm not here because I believe that's something he would want or wouldn't want,' you spat. 'Doing what he wanted got me here in the first place. I'm done with that. Not only because he's- I don't want to escape and live in hiding.'

'Surely it would be better than this,' the old woman argued.

'Why do you care?' you snapped. She looked at you sadly.

'Because I blame myself for not warning you about him sooner,' she answered.

'I was lost long before you could have warned me,' you said after a moment and turned your head. 'Leave me. I'm sure you have better things to do.'

She stared at you in silence. Finally, she sighed and stood up. A minute or so later you heard her leaving and the cell locking again. Less light again.

You became tired. You're not sure whether it was night or not, but because you couldn't use your powers, you're often tired and slept a lot. So, you turned to lay on your side and closed your eyes. You weren't even aware you're already dreaming, until you heard a voice:

'She's right, you know. I don't want this. I've never wanted this for you.'

You didn't react. Even in your sleep you're tired.

'Please, [Y/N],' Aleksander begged you. 'Get out of here. Live a life you should have.'

Your eyes snapped open. You sat up and sent him a glare. Months ago, you had stopped resisting and looking at him no longer hurt so much.

'You don't believe in me anymore?' you asked angrily. 'You don't think I'm brave. I'm not giving up. I'll endure in here as long as I have to until you're back.'

'You don't know how much longer it may take,' Kirigan said. 'It may very well take years. Decades.'

'I will sit in here even a century,' you argued fiercely. 'Even if it makes me go crazy. Because I don't want to walk in this world if you're not in it.'

The Darkling looked at you intensely. There still was a hint of sadness in his eyes, but you saw something else. Pride.

'That's my girl,' he whispered and cupped your cheek. 'Hold on to that anger. Hold to that anger that's always burnt in your soul. It will keep you alive and sane in here. But if you ever decide to escape, know that I'd understand. You've already suffered too much because of me.'

'I would suffer more,' you said, touching his hand on your face. You couldn't exactly feel it. Not like you did in the waking world. But it's still nice.

'I really don't deserve you,' Aleksander said after a beat. 'I'm sorry, lapushka.'

'Just come back to me,' you whispered. 'And don't stop coming.'

'I can't stop,' Kirigan confessed. 'It hurts both of us but I miss you so much.'

'I miss you too,' you said, tears falling from your eyes. 'So much…'

Aleksander kissed the tears away. You shivered.

'Hold on, [Y/N],' he pleaded. 'But don't punish yourself more. Please, milaya, don't lose yourself completely. If not for yourself, then do it for me.'

'I'll try,' you promised. Kirigan pressed his forehead to yours.

'That's all I ask, my love,' he said, his voice fading. 'That's all I ask…'

You opened your eyes. You're lying on the floor and there's no one there with you. You felt a ping of sadness.

But then you sat up, your eyes filled with resolve. You looked at your bonds. You can't touch your hands to use your powers. But Baghra believed you can free yourself and you're sure others also agreed it's possible. Because you're a Durast. And your bonds were made of solid things. And aren't they an extending of your hands?

The lock clicked. You smirked and let it drop on the floor. You massaged your sore wrists and looked around the cell. First, you touch the floor and make the stones a bit warmer. Not enough for others to detect, but for you not to feel cold. Then, you looked up and concentrated on the crack in the ceiling. Not to mend it, but make it bigger for your spider friend, so he could hide and sleep.

You used your powers for a bit more, until you put the bonds on your hands again and locked them again. Just in time, as a moment later a guard came in with food. He glanced at you, making sure the bonds are intact and walked away. But if he had looked closer, he would have noticed your skin is more grey than yellow. And that there's an amused, wicked glint in your eyes.

*

Two and half years. And finally, you were free. After they got you out, you cleaned yourself and dressed in new clothes. Or maybe your old ones? You indented to fix your kefta from Aleksander and then wear it again. For now, it would have to do.

You spent the rest of the day in a workshop, using your powers and avoiding the looks of others. It took you a little time to regain a better look and strength.

Few nights later, once you're looking like your old self again and using your powers brings you joy and more strength, you find yourself in Aleksander's old chambers in your dream. You're sitting by the table you had used to drink teas by. Kirigan was sitting opposite to you, smiling at you.

'I may hate what jurda parem does to Grisha, but it did make one good thing,' he said. 'It got you out of that cell. I can't tell you how happy that makes me, milaya.'

'I told you not to worry,' you said, smirking, and lifted a cup to your lips. 'Now I can bring you back.'

'Let's celebrate your freedom first,' the Darkling said, shaking your head. You shrugged but you two drink tea for a moment in silence, enjoying your company.

'How are you going to go about it?' Aleksander finally asked a moment later.

'I'm going to wait a bit, so not to arouse suspicions,' you answered. 'Then, I will make nichevo in Nikolai show itself. Then I will wait. In the meantime, I will be visiting the Fold once in two months. Making sure your body is safe and in good condition. And make them believe I'm grieving. That's the easiest part, since I am.'

You put your cup on the saucer. Kirigan looked at you softly and with guilt.

'Soon, my darling,' he promised. 'We're close. Soon we can be together. I can't wait to hold you in my arms.'

You sent him a small smile. You pondered your next moves.

'You're not alone in this,' the Darkling said, making you look at him curiously. 'I have followers. People who believe I should be made a Saint-'

'Oh, as if your ego isn't big enough already,' you sighed, wincing.

'I just need one of them to enter the Grand Palace,' Aleksander said, giving you a look. 'When they do, I want you to go outside. Once you see Zoya and those twins, follow them and stop nichevo from attacking them. They have to see you can control it. Only then Lantsov will decide to take you with them to the Fold.'

'Okay, but why that someone has to enter the palace?' you asked, confused.

'I need that someone who is helping me, believe they're the ones trying to bring me back.'

'Who are you talking about?'

'You'll see once the ritual starts. The one I told you about. Now, I need only a fragment of my power to separate itself from the King and nichevo. Once you see it does, you can do with that person whatever you want. I'm telling you that because I don't think you'll like them.'

'Now, that's reassuring.'

Kirigan stood up. He walked to you and kneeled in front of you. You took your hands and kissed them.

'Please, don't lose hope in me, milaya,' he pleaded. 'I promise you that this plan will make us rulers of this country.'

'You know it's not what I want,' you said after a moment quietly. Before the Darkling could answer, you woke up.

Next time you dreamt of him was three months later. You were back to perfect health and once again wearing your kefta from him. You also had already been to the place his body is hidden under the sands.

'The twins don't trust me,' you said, walking with Aleksander through the garden of the Little Palace. 'I can't blame them. Especially since they're right.'

'But others seem to trust you,' Kirigan pointed out. You were quiet for a moment.

'David really wants to believe things are like they used to be,' you finally said. 'Zoya wants the same. Genya is a bit hesitant but she's trying for her husband. Oh, I was really glad to hear they're married. I was rooting for them for so long. But anyway. Nikolai is seeing how hard I'm working on jurda parem. Thankfully, he has no idea I actually am much closer to finding the antidote. It is frustrating, to be honest. I have to work slower on it, because once I'm finished and I stay, everyone will look more closely at me, preventing me from bringing you back. Ugh!'

'Patience, milaya,' the Darkling said, linking your arms. 'We're close. You successfully walk past the twins to release the King from his bonds once in a while. And you control it perfectly, so he wouldn't actually hurt anyone. I was scared, at first. How well you controlled my nichevoy'a. But now I'm happy with that obedience.'

'So am I,' you murmured. 'I don't want anyone to get hurt. Which reminds me… once you're back… what will you do with Nikolai and others?'

'That depends what they will do,' Aleksander answered. You stopped walking. Kirigan stopped as well because of that and raised his eyebrows at you. Yours are furrowed.

'You can't fix this country without Nikolai,' you pointed out. 'Just like he can't without you. Fjerda and Shu-Han are getting bolder. You need each other to make Ravka strong again. And he won't work with you if you hurt others. I won't stand by you.'

The last words, quieter than the rest, stunned Kirigan. And startled as well. In that moment he realised that he could lose everything but not you.

'I promise not to hurt them in any way,' he said after a moment. 'I… Once you bring me back, I'll even allow them to tie me up, so they would feel safe.'

'Really?' you asked, surprised. The Darkling nodded and cupped your face.

'After I'm alive once again, you're all that matters, lapushka,' he said. 'You are my everything. I can't lose you.'

You smiled softly and he responded in kind. He pressed his lips to yours.

'I can't wait to actually kiss you,' he whispered.

'Soon,' you murmured. 'And then you may kiss me as many times as you want.'

'You may regret saying that,' Aleksander chuckled. You shook your head.

'Never,' you denied. 'I love when you kiss me. Although… I slowly start to forget how it feels.'

'I'm going to make sure you'll never forget once I'm back,' Kirigan said after a moment.

'I can't wait…' you whispered. You blinked and he was gone. You were back in your bed, no longer feeling his hands on your face. But you knew that in a few months that was going to change.

*

Zoya's voice pulls you out of your memories. You focus your eyes on the present. You are back in Os Alta, about to enter the palace. Before you've entered the city, the Squaller's bound Nikolai's hands and has attached ropes to the bridles of everyone's horses but hers, so you would all look like prisoners. As she has led you through the lower town, you saw no mourning banners, no flags flown at half-mast. Either the King was less popular than you all thought or somehow Genya and David have managed to keep his disappearance a secret.

'Welcome home, Commander,' a guard on duty says to Zoya and the gates swing open. Inside you find out that there is some big party happening. Lantsov and his general are clearly surprised and talk with each other with hushed voices. They come to a decision about something and look at you.

'Even if asleep, I don't want to leave the two of them alone,' Nazyalensky murmurs. You raise eyebrows. Asleep?

'[Y/N] will come with me,' Nikolai decides after a beat. 'It will also be an insurance. If he wakes up, he won't try anything stupid knowing she's with me. Am I right?'

Aleksander glares at him in answer. The amusement that was flickering in his eyes on the way here is gone now. Zoya checks the bonds on him and Yuri. Then they give them Genya's sleeping concoction and stash them behind a hedge. You want to protest, but your mouth is still gagged.

You split up. Nikolai ungags you, but makes you walk in front of him, so if someone comes across you, won't see your bound hands. You two make way along the southern flank of the palace, keeping to the shadows. You glimpse a movement in the conservatory. Lantsov wants to keep going, but you stop suddenly, making him walk into you and hiss.

'There's two of you?' you ask with wide eyes. The King follows your gaze and freezes. Amid the fruit trees and fountains of the conservatory is a man looking exactly like him. For a moment you stare at him in stunned silence. You watch as he's pacing, talking rapidly. Then you notice a very pretty girl from Shu-Han wearing an expensive assemble.

'Is he… declaring his love?' Lantsov asks, horrified.

'It looks like it,' you admit, nodding. 'Want me to step in and stop it?'

The King hesitates. He clearly doesn't want this to happen, whatever is happening. He can't interrupt it, because it would cause an uproar. But if you walk in… but how can he trust you?

At that moment the false Nikolai takes the girl in his arms. She tilts her head, her eyes sliding closed, her lips parted. That's when you see a dagger in her hands.

You don't think. You focus on the weapon. It suddenly springs from her hand and edges itself into the tree. Her eyes go wide and her faces pales. The false King turns, surprised by the noise. His eyes widen as well at the sight of the dagger.

'Damn it, locked!' Lantsov curses, trying to open the door. His double is slowly backing away from the girl, who's crying for some reason.

'Easy-peasy,' you say and the door is unlocked. The King doesn't wait for you, just rushes inside. The couple turns at the sounds of his footsteps. They're both shocked to see him. But the girl quickly recovers and takes a fighting stance.

She starts fighting with Nikolai and is surprisingly good. Somehow, she manages to get a hold of the dagger. She tries to stab Lantsov with it. Suddenly, she stiffens. Her eyes roll back and she slumps on the floor. A tree branch is levitating behind her but quickly drops as well.

'Are you alright?' you ask, helping Nikolai up. While he was fighting, you got rid of your bonds, walked inside, separated a branch from a tree and flew it at the girl's head.

'Yeah, thanks,' Lantsov says, nodding his head. You both look at his double that looks like he's about to faint.

'Your Majesty?' he asks, his voice shaking. Nikolai narrows his eyes.

'And you are…?' he asks.

'Isaak, sir,' poor guy answers. The King beams.

'Isaak! So, my plan worked!' he says and looks at you as if expecting praise. You blink.

'What plan?' you ask. 'He's not your secret twin then?'

'What? No, no, no,' Lantsov denies and quickly tells you of the plan in which Genya was supposed to tailor someone to look like Nikolai and act like him in case he was needed but unavailable.

'Ah, so that's why there were no riots,' you say, nodding in understanding.

'Exactly,' the King confirms and looks at Isaak. 'Except for you being almost murdered, is everything going well?'

'Um…' the guy starts. But he doesn't get to finish, as suddenly you hear rushed footsteps. A moment later Genya, David, Tamar and Tolya are inside, and everyone is shouting. Then, Zoya barges in, silencing everyone with a thunderclap. Your friends demand to know if you all are really you. Nazyalensky says a story from her past and everyone calms down. Genya hugs her, Tolya clasps Nikolai's arm and lifts him off his feet, David hugs you awkwardly and Tamar checks on the unconscious girl.

'Where the hell have you been?' Tolya asks.

'It's a long story,' Nikolai answers and demands to be put down.

'What happened here?' Zoya asks and looks at you. Her eyes narrow at your unbound hands.

'The dagger is Fjerdan,' says Tolya, eyeing the dagger that lies next to the girl.

'Maybe so,' Lantsov agrees. 'But it was wielded by a Shu girl.'

'What do you mean?' Tamar asks. 'She was attacked, too.'

'Yes, by me, because she tried to kill Nikolai,' you explain. 'And earlier she tried to kill the other Nikolai.'

'So, the Shu are trying to frame Fjerda?' asks Tolya.

'But why?' David asks. Nikolai stares at the girl for a moment, his face grim.

'Get me fresh clothes,' he finally says. 'I'll return to the party to close out the festivities. I want to have a word with Hiram Schenck. He's the highest-ranking member of the Kerch Merchant Council here, yes?'

'Yes,' Genya confirms. 'But he isn't happy with you.'

'He's about to be,' Lantsov says. 'For a time. Take the girl to Healers. She's about to have at least a large bump on the back of her head.'

'Not sorry,' you say, shrugging.

'She's a Shu princess,' Tamar says.

'Still not sorry,' you say after a beat.

'Bring the Shu delegation to me in my father's rooms in one hour's time,' the King finishes.

'What if Princess Ehri's guards raise the alarm?' asks Genya.

'They won't,' Zoya answers. 'Not until they know their plan has succeeded and the king is dead.'

'Then long live the king,' Nikolai says and looks at you with apology in his eyes. 'I'm sorry, [Y/N] you really helped out, but…'

'I understand,' you say, smiling sadly. You put your hands behind your back and offer them to Nikolai.

'What's going on?' David asks, confused.

'Later,' Lantsov sighs, sounding tired. He secures the bonds again. You're taken to the antechamber. There, Zoya gives you Genya's concoction. You're out in a moment.

When you wake up, startled, Yuri and Aleksander are with you. Zoya is the one who wakes you all up. She brings Yuri out first, then you. You see the same people as before, only now Nikolai is in different clothes and there was also another Shu girl. Judging by their looks, they still have no idea why you're bound. Then, Nazyalensky brings Aleksander.

'Who-?' David starts asking. But Zoya tugs at the rope and Kirigan steps fully into the light. His hood falls back. Genya gasps, edging away, her hand flying to the patch that covers her lost eye.

'No,' she says. 'It can't be. No.'

Nikolai places a steadying hand on her shoulder. Tamar steps in front of her as if to shield her.

'Impossible,' she says.

'Improbable,' Lantsov corrects her softly. Tolya looks furious. Tamar has her axes drawn back. Genya has her hands pressed to her mouth. David glances at you with hurt and betrayal in his eyes. It's really hard not to hang your head with shame.

'So many of my old friends, gathered in one place,' says Aleksander. 'It's good to be home.'

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

This can also be found on Archive of Our Own: https://archiveofourown.org/works/52696933/chapters/135027145

[litgwritersroom]

One in a Million

S4 | Bruno/MC, Youcef/MC | 3800+ words | @tammyisobsessedwith

Best friends Bruno and Youcef meet up only to discover the girl's they're seeing have a lot of suspicious things in common...

Written for Suzi's bday 💕

The afternoon sun glinted off the door when Bruno walked into the pub, a nearly perceptible spring in his steps matching the wide smile on his face, both obvious signs to even the most casual of observers as to his general good mood ─ not that that would be an uncommon sight. After all, one would usually count on Bruno Kaminski to have a smile on his lips and a joke at the tip of his tongue.

The man sitting at one of the high tables in the back was more observant than most and he also had the added bonus of being one of Bruno’s best friends, so his eyes tracked his progress towards him with interest. While it was true that he could always expect the comedian to present to the world his rather goofy and sunny disposition on any given day, it seemed there was something else behind the energy surrounding him today.

“Youcef, my boy!” Bruno greeted him with a huge grin, clapping a hand warmly on his shoulder before taking the seat opposite him.

His friend merely raised an eyebrow back at him, a barely-there smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Boy? You do remember I’m two years older than you, yes?”

“Alright, my good sir. Excuse-moi, monsieur.” Bruno said gamely in an exaggerated French accent.

“Although many people would be hard pressed to know it, as I’m obviously far more mature.” Youcef rolled his eyes gently before bringing his glass of sparkling water up to his lips.

“Mate, don’t start on me with the whole grumpy Frenchman routine already,” Bruno said dismissively with a laugh even as he signalled a waitress over.

“Why not?” He challenged, his voice soft and a gleam visible in his dark eyes. “You’re obviously about to get into your bad comedian routine.”

“Oh-ho-ho, touché.” Bruno made a silly sort of half curtsy before he turned to the waitress who approached their table.

Youcef watched him indulgently with a small smile even as his friend joked easily with the waitress before placing his order. The pub was one of Bruno’s favourite dives, not really the sort of place that Youcef would frequent these days, but he always made an exception for him whenever their busy schedules would align and they had time to meet in person. He supposed that for someone watching them without any context they made an interesting duo, one so unlike the other ─ Youcef with his carefully bleached and coiffed hair and obviously expensive yet subdued clothes, Bruno with his colourful patterned shirt and blow-dried hair with the ridiculous (in Youcef’s opinion) frosted tips. 

And it was true that they might have never met if it wasn’t for the fact that they had the same agent, Valentina Castillo, who had introduced them during an event that her PR firm had organised a few years before. Despite having such different personalities and against all odds the two of them had become fast friends.

“So tell me, mon cher.” Youcef said once the waitress had left their table. “What has put you in such a good mood hmm?”

“Life is good, my friend!” Bruno said cheerfully. “I’m halfway through my tour and most dates are sold out. There’s a couple of interviews scheduled for next month and I’m also itching to try out some new material at the clubs when it all winds down.”

“I’m happy for you.” Youcef told him with a quiet and sincere smile. He knew how much Bruno had dedicated to his craft in the last few years and how he was sowing all the rewards of his hard work. “You deserve all the good things coming your way. Although it does make me fear for the state of Britain’s collective sense of humour.” He added the last jab with an obvious teasing smirk.

Bruno took no offence at the words and simply gave him a wide grin in return, as after many years he knew that Youcef’s teasing, dry humour was his own brand of love language. 

“Yeah, things seem to be going so well. Almost too well.” He said, his eyes darting away and a small sigh escaping.

“Oh?” Youcef merely intoned, raising an eyebrow at him before taking another sip from his glass.

Bruno’s light blue eyes darted back to him and he seemed to try to suppress the smile overcoming his lips before giving up on that losing battle. “Yeah. So I met a girl. And mate, I swear, I think I’m in love.”

The French man couldn’t help the small, low chuckle that escaped and the slight shake of his head at hearing those words. Bruno himself couldn’t stop his own laughter as he looked back at him. Right then the waitress breezed by and put a pint of beer before him and the two just enjoyed a moment as they silently clicked their glasses and sipped their drinks.

Youcef didn’t doubt what his friend said, although he would debate that between the two of them they had very different definitions of ‘falling in love’. For as long as he’d known him, he saw Bruno falling in love almost as easily as breathing. A cute girl at the crowd watching his set, a salesgirl at a store when they went shopping together, a new assistant in the PR team handling his affairs, a bartender at a club when they’d go out, one of Youcef’s model friends when he’d come out to watch one of his fashion shows. Bruno just wore his heart on his sleeve and the poor little thing would flutter in excitement, never worrying if his hopes and dreams were about to be smashed to pieces before anything had even really happened.

Which was the complete opposite of how Youcef would go about things. Ever since Camille, he’d hide behind his armour of smouldering good looks, high fashion clothes and lavish lifestyle, easily engaging others in physical intimacy while keeping his heart hidden behind locked doors and avoiding any type of real, heartfelt intimacy. Well, at least that was what he’d been doing in the last few years until…

Anyway, he shook his head to get out of his own thoughts and focus back on his friend. He could see Bruno was bursting to share the story with him and Youcef should have time to tell his own tale later. “Tell me all about it. Have you actually gone out with her yet?”

“Oh ha ha.” Bruno replied easily, a sardonic eyebrow raised, but his lips still sported a smile. “Yeah, I know you’re always making fun of me for my ‘love at first sight’ tendencies and how I say I’m in love with a different girl every week, but I’ll have you know I’ve actually been going out with her for two months now.”

“Really?” Youcef asked, watching him with interest, as it seemed like this time there was something substantial behind the words his friend would usually throw out rather carelessly.

“Yeah,” Bruno replied, his eyes and smile sparkling. “We both have busy schedules, so it gets tricky but we meet up every chance we get. When I’m on the road we just chat for hours on the phone after I’m done with my set and honestly… I’ve never felt like this before.” He said, a happy sigh escaping his lips, a serene, contented expression taking over his features.

“That sounds great.” Youcef gave him a small smile back. “How did you two meet?”

“She pulled me up for a chat after one of my sets at the stand up club.” Bruno explained. “At first I couldn’t believe she was really into me, she’s just so bloody gorgeous! And she’s smart, too. Way too smart for me. Went to Oxford and now works as a manager at a big pharma company.”

“Oh?” Youcef merely said, one eyebrow twitching up momentarily. Something stirred deep down in his stomach as he heard those words, but surely they wouldn’t mean anything? Lots of people went to Oxford and worked at pharma companies in the city.

“Yeah, I know, not the type of girl you’d think would be into me, right?” Bruno said easily with a smile. “But she’s genuinely one of the nicest girls I’ve ever met. We can chat about anything for hours. And she could give your model friends a run for their money, too! Picture this: light tanned skin, deep blue eyes that shine brightly like sapphires, golden hair as smooth as silk.” He said in an exaggerated tone, making wide hand gestures as his description veered into waxing poetic territory before continuing in a less joking tone.

“She even got a beauty spot near the corner of her eye that makes her look like those golden age movie stars. She’s about 5’7 with legs that go on for days and her hips…” He let out a breathy sort of chuckle as he shook his head a little. “I don’t wanna get crass, but man, her hips drive me crazy.”

“Sounds like a real bombshell.” Youcef commented softly, a barely visible frown forming a line between his eyebrows. The more he heard about this girl, the more he felt like an unpleasant feeling was spreading throughout his body, but he didn’t think his friend had noticed anything strange in his demeanour so far.

“Tell me about it!” Bruno said with another light laugh. “She’s always dressed to perfection when we go out, I can’t believe she’s willing to be seen in public with an idiot like me.” He chuckled in that self-deprecating manner that was a signature part of his humour. “But to be honest my favourite look is when she’s at home just lounging about, her hair up in a messy bun. I feel like no one else gets to see her just like that, you know? So relaxed as she just scrolls through her phone, biting on her lip and running a finger on the pendant with the letter S on the golden chain around her neck. I swear, she never takes it off, it’s almost like a part of her, like the tattoo she has on her ribs of the moon and stars that she got— "

“─after her name.” Youcef completed the thought before he could stop himself, the two of them speaking the words in unison.

“Yeah,” Bruno said, giving him a somewhat amused and confused frown. “How did you know? What, did you become a mind reader since we last saw each other?”

Youcef just stared back at his friend for a moment, unsure of what to do. “Merde,” he murmured softly under his breath before taking a sip as he avoided his eyes. As the glass hit the table with a dull thud, his fingers slipped into his pocket and he pulled out his phone. “I can’t believe this is happening, but…”

He could feel Bruno’s eyes watching him in confusion and Youcef swallowed with difficulty before turning his phone over and showing him something on the screen. He could see the moment realisation dawned on him, but a part of his friend was still confused as his mouth hung slightly open and he pointed a finger at him. “Hey, that’s my…” Bruno’s voice trailed off, his brow furrowing. “Youcef, why do you have a picture of my girlfriend on your phone?”

“I swear to you on my life, mon ami, I had no idea.” Youcef said, his voice coming out softly but his eyes were shining earnestly. “I met her a couple of months ago at an after-party for a fashion show and we’ve been seeing each other ever since.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Bruno said, his voice deadpan and still considerably calm despite his words. “So my girl and my best friend…”

“She never said she was seeing anyone else.” Youcef was quick to say, rather defensively. “In fact, I remember her specifically saying she was single when she approached me, asking if she could buy me a drink.”

Bruno blinked dazedly at him for a moment. “That’s the same thing that happened to me.” He paused and saw his friend just nodding back at him. “She’s been playing us both.”

“It would appear it is so, yes.” Youcef said with a long sigh.

“Oh man…” Bruno whispered, leaning back on his chair and running his hands over his face. His fingers went into his hair and he avoided his friend’s eyes for a moment before asking. “Was it just like a casual sex thing or…?” He trailed off with a shrug, as he knew most of Youcef’s relationships tended to be like that.

“I…” Youcef said, his mouth hanging open for a moment as he debated on how to answer this, but he’d always been brutally honest to a fault and it wouldn’t do to lie now, even if a part of him wished it weren’t true, if only to protect his friend. But he also knew Bruno had a tendency to forgive too easily and he deserved to know the truth. “Honestly? No, not for me. And up until now I had thought not for her, either.”

“Shit.” He closed his eyes and hung his head for a moment. “I really thought she was the one, y’know? Well, what are the odds?” He said with a smile that somehow managed to be sardonic, rueful and heartbreaking at the same time.

“Most unlikely.” Youcef said quietly, his lips pressed on a thin line.

“I guess this is it, then.” Bruno let out a long-suffering sigh and shook his head. “I knew this was too good to be true. She was like one in a million.”

They remained in silence for a few moments, just sipping their drinks as the shock washed over them. “What are you going to do about it?” Youcef asked with a raised eyebrow.

Bruno shot him a look, the corner of his lips turning up in a rather humourless smirk now. “Well, seeing as the ground still hasn’t opened up to swallow me whole, I guess I’ll have to do all the legwork myself and just… disappear?” He finished with a shrug.

“What?” Youcef asked sharply, a frown marked between his eyebrows. “Why should you have to hide away?”

“Uh, to spare myself from the pain and utter humiliation?” The comedian raised an eyebrow at him as if that should’ve been obvious. “I mean, I know I joke a lot about this kind of stuff on stage, but even for me this is a bit too much.”

“You have nothing to be ashamed of. You’re not the one who did anything wrong.” Youcef insisted in a firm tone. “In fact, we should both confront her and say our piece.”

“Hard pass.” Bruno retorted promptly, his words coming out along a short bark of laughter. “Hi, have you met me? I’m the least confrontational person, ever.”

“And you know I don’t suffer fools gladly.” The French model insisted, crossing his arms over his chest. “I believe in honesty and openness, and what she did to the both of us is… detestable.” He said, a sneer forming on his lips. “She should at least hear that we figured her out and will no longer be pawns in her game.”

“Oh man.” Bruno whispered, looking up for a moment as if asking for strength from some deity above before running one hand over his face and looking back at his friend. “Yeah, I know, you’re right. Fuck. How do we do this?”

Youcef’s sneer morphed seamlessly into a smirk then. “When we made plans to meet today, you mentioned you were coming back into town earlier than planned. Does she know?”

Bruno shook his head. “No, I was gonna surprise her later.”

“Well, we can still do that.” His friend said, a gleam visible in his dark eyes. “I’ve been texting her and we had arranged for a dinner date tonight. How about you join us hmm?” He suggested with a raised eyebrow.

Slowly, a smirk also took form on Bruno’s lips and he nodded back.

They made the arrangements and parted ways to get ready for the night and to put their plan into action. Normally Youcef would make a point to pick her up if they were going out, but he made an excuse of a last minute meeting with his manager and said he’d meet her at the restaurant. She agreed to it quite easily, unsuspecting that anything was amiss.

That night, the two friends were sitting at the bar in the lounge area of one of Youcef’s favourite restaurants, watching the entrance avidly until they saw her walking in through the front door. Youcef could see the pang of pain cross on Bruno’s face as they just observed her for a moment. She did look quite exquisite, golden hair pinned up and a few loose strands elegantly framing her face, the golden chain with the delicate S pendant gleaming just above her modest cleavage, her hips swaying tantalisingly as her dress swished around her legs, the deep blue of its fabric no doubt highlighting her bright sapphire eyes.

She went straight to the maitre’d who had been instructed to lead her to a secluded table on the back near the window. Both men looked at each other and traded a nod before downing their drinks and Youcef pushed off against the bar, heading towards her first.

“Youcef, darling.” She said, a dazzling smile forming on her full lips as she saw him appear suddenly before her.

“Bonsoir, bébé.” He said smoothly, leaning in and kissing both her cheeks before taking a seat in front of her. “My apologies for meeting you straight here. I hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long.”

“No, not at all. It was perfect timing, I just got here.” She said with an easy smile, reaching across the table to take his hand.

“Good.” He said, his smile sharp. “I hope you don’t mind, I ran into a friend at my meeting and invited him to join us.”

He looked up just as Bruno approached them, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his trousers, looking like the very picture of casual coolness despite how nervous he had been earlier. She looked up as well, her eyes widening a little as he stood next to their table.

“Hello.” Bruno said with a smile, his voice somehow coming out way smoother than they’d expected.

“Oh.” She said a little breathlessly, blinking up at him for a moment. “This is your friend?” She glanced at Youcef before reaching her hand towards Bruno. “I think I know you. The comedian, Bruno Kaminski, right?”

Youcef let out a loud, humourless laugh then, drawing attention to himself. “Ah chérie. Are you seriously attempting to say you don’t know him?”

She looked back at him with a frown, withdrawing her hand as Bruno never reached for it. “Well, I know who he is, but I’d never met him before.”

“Really?” Bruno scoffed in disbelief. “You’re gonna keep denying it even now?”

“I swear, I don’t know what you’re─”

“Hey! There you are, you dropped your phone in the cab—"

The three of them looked up as another person approached their table, hand outstretched with a phone in her hand and suddenly they were all frozen in place. Bruno did a comical double take as the woman drawing closer to them was the exact spitting image of the one sitting down at the table, only this one had her blonde hair cascading in gentle waves down her shoulders and she was wearing a business casual black dress.

“Bruno?” She said, brow furrowing as she realised he was standing next to her. “What are you doing here?”

“What am I doing here?” Bruno repeated in an utterly befuddled state. “I think I might be having a stroke, that’s what. Am I seeing double or, or — what in the world is going on?” He said, reaching for a chair and shakily sitting down.

“Wait, you thought—" The woman sitting at the chair said, interrupting herself as she pointed from Youcef to Bruno before both women looked at each other and burst out laughing.

“Bruno, this is my sister, Selena.” The woman standing said, once their laughter had subsided, gesturing from the man still sitting in apoplectic shock towards the woman who was sitting down.

“And Youcef, this is my sister, Stella.” The one who had been introduced as Selena gestured from the French man towards the woman standing next to her.

“What?” Bruno said rather dumbly while Youcef could only raise both his eyebrows as he took them in. “I mean… What?”

“Twin sisters?” Youcef asked, his soft voice not quite masking the shock he was in.

“Yes.” The women said in unison, smiling and nodding at them.

“But your uni, your job, the necklace, the tattoo—" Bruno said, still spluttering in disbelief.

“Yes, we went to the same uni and work at the same pharma company now. I’m a product manager in the marketing department.” Selena said, still with a smile before gesturing with a hand at her sister. “Stella is a project manager in the clinical research department.”

“And we got matching necklaces for our 18th birthday, then we got the same tattoo on our ribs to represent our names.” Stella picked up on the explanation. “Moon and stars? Selena and Stella?”

“Mon Dieu,” Youcef whispered, still a little dazed but shaking his head as if to clear his thoughts. “This is quite unbelievable.”

“No shit,” Bruno muttered under his breath. “I mean, what are the odds?” He said, before his eyes found Youcef’s and they both burst into laughter.

A little while later the four of them were sitting at the table, laughing together and having drinks after placing their dinner order.

“I remember you said your sister was your best friend,” Bruno commented, a smile etched on his lips and he shook his head a little as he held Stella’s hand over the table. “But you never said she was your identical twin sister.”

“I’m sorry,” Stella said, laughter in her voice as she squeezed his hand. “I swear it wasn’t on purpose, I really thought I had mentioned it.”

“Well, I’m really glad this whole thing turned out to be nothing but a huge misunderstanding.” Bruno said, his clear blue eyes sparkling as he looked back at his girlfriend.

“Despite the confusion, it’s actually great that we happen to be dating two guys that are already best friends.” Selena said with a smile, glancing from her sister to Youcef.

“It certainly leads to less chance of having awkward double dates or family functions.” Youcef said with a nod, bringing Selena’s hand up to press a gentle kiss on her knuckles.

“I wasn’t even thinking about all of that,” Bruno said, a huge grin on his face. “You two have just given me the best material of my life.”

They all laughed at his remark, raising their glasses to toast to the future set of jokes he’d get to tell on stage and thankful that in the end everything had worked out perfectly for all of them.