#yes i know that her name is actually romanova not romanov | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dragonrajafanfiction · 3 years

Note

What is Bondarev (BSB ver) actually like in the novels? In my WIP, I’m trying to be as close to the lore as I can with certain parts, so it’s hard to write in a character that I have no clue what his personality actually is like. Also does he have a full name? Is Bondarev his first or last name? I noticed Herzog has a full name thanks to the Fandom wiki you and Hectab are working on :3

Ask and Ye shall receive. (very long post below with allllllllllll of the stuff you asked for.)

VERY HANDSOME

This was a man who was a sight to behold, handsome and straight, with iron gray hair neatly combed back and styled with hairspray, and a muscular body that was defined and supple. Many would describe him as sexy. The sentry had seen such handsome young officers in Moscow, but this one was too unbelievable. He was actually wearing only military shorts and sleeveless undershirt, sweating in the -10 degree wind. The man fished out a lighter from his shorts and lit it with aplomb, the sterling silver case etched with the words "70th anniversary of the October Revolution".

The sentry could not refuse this kindness and went over to light the cigarette.

"Here you go." The man tossed the lighter to the sentry, "In such a cold place, you need to use aviation kerosene with low freezing point, you should save that for the summer."

The sentry then realized that he still had the unlit lighter in his hand, the man's insight was actually keen to this point. Furthermore, people should be eager to find a warm place to rest at this moment. This also shows that he still has energy left for skiing in such extremely cold weather. The man took out a dark gray officer's uniform from his military duffel bag, and after a few moments, he finished putting it on and solemnly pinned a "Red Flag Medal" on his chest. A minute ago he was a skier, a minute later he had a frown of determination, a young man of power from Moscow.

"KGB Major Bondarev, I'm from Moscow." The man pulled out his papers, "Take me to Dr. Herzog and tell him that this is the moment of survival."

"Yes! Comrade Major!" The sentry saluted.

The man stated his identity in the simplest terms; he was an envoy from Moscow, a key member of the secret intelligence service. In the days of the Tsar, such a man was called a "minister".

********ICE PROOF*************

He pressed the detonator in his hand, after a short dull explosion, the marble base in the snow was blown up, Lenin bronze statue slanted in the snow. The noise of this micro-acoustic thunderstorm was so small that it was muffled by the wind within a few steps. The Black Swan Harbor is notoriously heavily guarded, but the most important aspect is the extreme cold, and standing outside for ten minutes on a night like this can lead to severe frostbite. Because of the blizzard, visibility was less than five meters. The soldiers did not expect anyone else to dare to move outside, and they ignored the fact that Bondarev had an extraordinary tolerance for the cold.

-----

"I sometimes think that people who like to drink can't be bad. So I like you a lot, you know vodka." Dr. Herzog removed the Makolov pistol and handed over a cold glass.

A light struck down from above, enveloping the Doctor and Bondarev. The glass reflected the light, as clear as the most expensive crystal glassware, but it was carved from a whole block of solid ice, pure ice, without any air bubbles, with cornflower patterns carved on the outer wall. The two men gently clinked their glasses and drank the wine in one gulp.

　　Bondarev played with the ice carved glass: "It's wonderful, the spirits wrapped in ice, as moving as a stunning young woman under the appearance of an iceberg. I think my hands will freeze and to it."

　　"Usually people who drink from such an ice glass have to wear leather gloves, and only people like you, Major, who are not afraid of the cold can hold it in their hands. It is carved from old ice in the -30 degree strata and also kept at -30 degrees, making it the coldest drinking vessel for the warmest of wines." The doctor said, He said so, but he was also holding the glass with his empty hand, his slender hand was stable and did not tremble at all because of the low temperature.

****** SUPPOSED ROYAL FAMILY and EXTREMELY RICH ***************

　　"Bondarev, a KGB major, from Moscow, these are the truth. I only concealed from you the name of my great-grandmother, her name was Nastasya Nikolaevna Romanova." Bondarev slowly pronounced this long, awkward name, like a magician reciting a forbidden spell.

　　The doctor was stunned: "Was it the last royal daughter of the Romanov dynasty?"

　　Nastasia was the last princess of the Romanov dynasty, the last dynasty to rule Russia until it was overthrown by the October Revolution in 1917. in 1918, the last Tsar Nicholas II and his entire family were secretly executed by the Red Army. Nastasia was the youngest daughter of Nicholas II, and although she was young, she was given the title of "Grand Duchess", which made her more honored than other royal princesses in Europe at the time, and princesses were required to curtsy and address her as "Your Imperial Highness" during their audiences. It was rumored that she was the only one who escaped execution, and that her name Nastasia meant "resurrection".

　　"Since there is still me, the grandson of the emperor, I can't say that she is the 'last' royal daughter." Bondarev smiled.

　　"How do you prove yourself?" The Doctor asked.

　　"I saw Rasputin's signature at the end of the tunnel, and that heretic who had been canonized had been here before, so I should say he was the one who found this cave, right?"

　　"Yes." The Doctor said, "This cave is his legacy."

　　"Then you must know that Rasputin was a guest of the Tsar and a close friend of Princess Nastasia. The fact that I could find this place means that I have Rasputin's secrets, secrets that he told my great-grandmother. This is the proof of my status as the last royal grandson of the Romanov dynasty." Bondarev held his head up proudly.

　　"So, what were the secrets that Rasputin revealed to Her Imperial Highness?"

　　Bondarev smiled slyly: "I think there are certain things I know that you do not know, and of course there are things you know that I do not, so we might as well exchange information about each other. Then we might be able to sit down and talk about cooperation."

　　"After you." The Doctor raised his muzzle.

　　"This matter begins with my great-grandmother's escape. A Red Army bullet did go through her heart and her body was thrown into an abandoned mine, but three days later she awoke and the wound miraculously healed. It was then that she remembered what Rasputin had told her, that Rasputin said he was willing to share the secrets of the world with his great-grandmother because she, like himself, was God's chosen one. Like Rasputin, she had an unparalleled power of life and could even return from hell. She later married a Red Army officer, and in those days the only way she could gain refuge was to marry a Red Army officer. My great-grandfather, who later stepped into the high ranks of the military, was a very good man and always protected my great-grandmother from revealing her identity. Great-grandmother would sometimes wake up in a dream and shout, 'The Red Army is coming with guns,' and great-grandfather would reassure her, 'I am the Red Army, and as long as I live, the Red Army guns will only protect you.'"

　　"Touching love." The doctor said faintly.

　　"Great-grandmother decided to give up her past identity, so she rarely talked about the past of the Romanov dynasty, with the exception of one thing. She bade her great-grandfather that there were relics of God in the north of Siberia, which the saint Rasputin had told her about. That saint found the cave where God created life on the shore of the icy sea. But he did not announce it to the world, but sealed the miracle with iron water, because the miracle had degenerated into the cradle of the devil, and inside it were hidden fallen angels. Generations of our family descendants have to be on guard against the reopening of that cave, and the day it reopens, the end comes with it."

　　"So you are here to check if we are guarding the miracle properly?"

　　"No, no, my great-grandmother was a good and devout Orthodox Christian, but I am not. I have a great curiosity about everything, and after I inherited the secret, I am bent on finding the miracle. If I were to find it, I would definitely open it and take a look. Not long ago I found an engineering map from the ruined archives." Bondarev drew out the map roll and rolled it along the ice toward the Doctor, "It marks the elevator that leads deep into the tundra."

　　The Doctor scanned the map, "It's not the original map, someone drew it from memory."

　　"It was drawn by a madman who used to be the engineer battalion commander of the 13th Konrad Infantry Division and was ordered to participate in the excavation of the tunnel, after which he was brainwashed by drugs and became a regular in a mental hospital. All he remembered was that he was engaged in a big project on the northern coast of Siberia, and the project was to dig a cave. Suddenly I realized I had found a breakthrough. But as the investigation progressed, I found that the matter was becoming more and more mysterious. Many years ago, the army had built a port in the almost unnavigable northern part of Siberia, about which there was no information, and even the coordinates had been erased. Below that port, sappers had dug through the hard permafrost and opened a long-closed cave. So I decided to come and see for myself. As a KGB officer, I easily applied for a charter to investigate this mysterious port, so that I could drive in as the 'Minister of the Admiralty'. Sure enough, I found Rasputin's signature at the end of the passage, and I finally arrived at the place I had dreamed of since childhood." Bondarev looked around, "But it doesn't look like there's anything interesting here."

　　"I'm sure you noticed when you came here that the closer you got to the door where Rasputin signed, the more bones there were in the tundra, and they all crawled out through a gap in the rock wall. It was those things that Rasputin was talking about when he said this cave would breed demons. But now the cave is dead, and the mysterious forces in the cave have dissipated."

　　"I don't think so. If this cave was no longer valuable, you would have left long ago."

　　"If this cave was really valuable, I should have shot you and monopolized the secrets of this place."

　　"Wait a minute! I have brought you a gift! Won't you take a look at the gift before shooting?'' Bondarev took an envelope from inside his clothes and slid it along the ice toward the Doctor, by which he showed that he had absolutely no intention of resisting.

　　The doctor tore open the envelope, inside was a Swiss bank cashier's check - a cashier's check for $200 million.

　　"This is a rare and large check, what do you want to buy from me with this check?" 'Doc asked.

　　"Not a purchase, just a gift." Bondarev smiled, "We believe this gift will be useful to you. Your research has been going on for decades, consuming huge amounts of state funds every year, and it must not be finished yet, right? But now that the Soviet Union is about to split, your backers have fallen, which means you no longer have access to funding to complete your research, and no one to help you keep it secret."

　　"It does sound like I'm facing a lot of trouble." The doctor said.

　　"Then why not work with my family? We know politics, we know technology, and we know war, and we're willing to invest in this cave as long as its secrets pay off. We can continue to support you in this project and share with you all the benefits it brings. I have already shown my sincerity and told you everything I know. Shouldn't you also tell me what I don't know? After that you will still have time to shoot me."

　　"You are very calm, Comrade Major. You think I won't shoot you if you produce this $200 million cashier's check, don't you?" There was a hint of sarcasm in the Doctor's tone.

　　"There are not many people in the world who can refuse two hundred million dollars." Bondarev smiled, "And killing me wasn't the best option. If I do not return safely to Moscow, the family will know that something has happened to me, and they will not spare you. At that time the secret of Black Swan Harbor will be made known to the world."

　　"Ten times." The doctor threw the cashier's check back to Bondarev.

　　Bondarev froze: "What did you say?"

　　"Your family needs to increase the bid tenfold. I need three years and two billion dollars to complete this research. At that time we will share the whole world."

　　"That amount is beyond my expectations and not easy to raise even for my family."

　　The Doctor laughed coldly: "It seems you really don't know the secret of this cave, in front of which two billion dollars is too small a figure, what is here no one can afford, it is priceless! Your family should be proud to offer this two billion dollars."

　　"Everything has a price, weapons, women, secrets, even souls." Bondarev said.

　　"But who can put a price on God?" The Doctor asked.

-------

The Lenin's mooring is only 40 kilometers from Black Swan Harbor, and they will be here soon. This new flare is so great that American spy satellites will recognize it as an aurora borealis." Bondarev said.

　　"You had said that the Lenin would not come." The doctor said.

　　"Moscow is not prepared to send the Lenin to Black Swan Harbo, but we can, and now the Lenin is at my family's beck and call."

　　Black shadows rose above the sea level, the roar of a giant bee on its wings approaching at high speed, snow dust twisted into a tornado by the helicopter's rotors, red five stars flashing in the white tornado. It was the "MiG 26" heavy helicopter, codenamed "Halo", one of the pride of the Soviet military industry. The helicopter hovered over the cast iron dock, the searchlights broke through the haze of the night, the hatch opened, and five captains lined up, saluting Bondarev. The communication lights below the belly of the plane blinked up, signaling greetings to Bondarev in Morse code.

　　"Glad to see you're safe and sound, Your Imperial Highness!" The doctor read out the greeting.

　　The fact that they called Bondarev "His Imperial Highness" instead of "comrade" meant that the helicopter and the Lenin on the icy sea were no longer loyal to the Soviet Union, but to the heir to the Romanov dynasty. The name Romanov is about to shine again after almost a century of obliteration in history, and with the power of the Dragons, it is not impossible for them to re-establish hegemony on Earth.

　　Bondarev handed a letter to the Doctor: "This is a letter I wrote to the family, please read it."

　　The Doctor scanned it and handed the letter back to Bondarev.

　　"If things go well, we will be able to relocate within a few weeks." Bondarev handed the letter to a captain who descended down the zip line, "We will build you a brand new research base in the warm and pleasant Baltic Sea, along with a vacation villa."

　　The captain placed a mouthful of boxes at the doctor's feet, containing a case of aged Red Label vodka.

　　"A small gift, so you don't have to worry about running out of booze until we leave Black Swan Harbor." Bondarev said.

　　"I guess I picked the right partner." The Doctor smiled.

***** HE VERY STRONG AND CAPABLE ***********

Bondarev looked alert, his muscles bulging under his uniform. He was a highly trained soldier, capable of breaking a wolf's neck with his bare hands, and had no need to fear this delicate boy, but not daring to take it lightly in the presence of something supernatural, he adjusted himself to a state of immediate danger.

------

Bondarev noticed a transparent figure flashed from his side. It was just a short blink of an eye, a fraction of a second, but Bondarev was trained to the rigors of the KGB and he was absolutely certain it was a person!

-------- IS A HYBRID THAT HAS NO ISSUE KILLING PEOPLE, INCLUDING KIDS ------------

The lieutenant on duty in the boiler room collapsed on the duty desk, a bottle of Red Label vodka still in his hand. A steel-core bullet had penetrated his heart, and Bondarev stood behind the lieutenant with his Makolov pistol.

---

At that moment the doctor heard the wind change behind his head, and the beam of the searchlight struck him. He turned sharply and saw huge black shadows hovering in the air, their rotor blades churning the snow into a flurry. It was Halo, the heavy helicopter from the Lenin, which had ventured to Black Swan Harbor in such bad weather.

　　"Didn't you say Halo couldn't fly in a snowstorm of this magnitude?" The Doctor froze. Something hard pressed against his back, it was Bondarev's Makarov pistol. One by one, the steel-core bullets pierced the Doctor's chest, tearing the aging heart into a million pieces. The Doctor spat out a mouthful of blood, mixed with fragments of his lungs, which had been destroyed in the process. He braced himself and turned his face to look at Bondarev, his eyes filled with shock.

　　"You can't complete the research without me ......," he hissed.

　　"We didn't even try to finish your research." Bondarev's pupils swirled with a gorgeous gold.

　　"Who the hell ...... are you?"

　　Bondarev held the Doctor in place and injected him with adrenaline using an air needle, "Hold on one more minute for the most magnificent scene."

　　The Black Swan Harbor suddenly trembled up tremendously, the sound of a series of explosions spread upward from the ground, but it was not a vacuum bomb detonated in advance, if it was a vacuum bomb, a square kilometer around would be leveled to the ground. A fire rose, and countless pieces of frozen earth spilled onto the frozen sea.

　　"Engineering explosive mines?" The Doctor asked in a hiss.

　　"The new engineering burst mines, even 10,000 years of permafrost, as long as the right eye is chiseled can be blown up. Now in a place you can't see, there is a huge hole with a depth of 180 meters, leading to Rasputin's cave, where we will use the laser to cut through the ice and take away the precious collection that originally belonged to you." Bondarev said, "You have been isolated from the outside world for too long to know the progress of engineering, it is no longer difficult to cut through the tundra in an instant today, once I probe its location."

　　"You ...... want to take that dragon!" The Doctor understood.

　　"Yes," Bondarev replaced the magazine, walked over to the sled, and fired four bullets into the chests of each of the four children.

　　The children died without a struggle from the potent hypnotic drug. It was pure carnage.

　　"You are not the only one who is willing to sacrifice human lives for a great cause." Bondarev pressed his chest in silence for the children he had just killed, looking reverent.

#Dragon Raja #Lore Post #Major Bondarev

44 notes · View notes

avrelia · 4 years

Text

Natasha Romanoff and my problems with her

I like Natasha Romanoff as played by Scarlett Johansson in several MCU movies. She smart, capable, good with people, a good friend, can be both a loyal comrade and a leader in emergency, and, of course can kick asses and take names at the same time. I have never read any comics with her, so I have no idea about how true she is to her comics counterpart or anything.

But I do have several problems with her portrayal and her story in MCU and I am not really looking forward to her upcoming movie. I have a feeling that the writers and directors didn’t quite know what to do with her character, and only did some cool things by accident.

1) Romance is horrible. I have no idea who and how came up with the idea of Natasha/Bruce romance, but for me it’s one of the worst parts of MCU, and I blame Joss Whedon, because as a self-proclaimed feminist he should have known better.

Natasha and Bruce have no chemistry and no pull of any kind. I mean, Bruce, as palyed by Mark Ruffalo has great chemistry with Tony, with Thor and Valkyrie (both as Bruce and Hulk with those two). Natasha is great with Pepper, Hawkeye and his wife, Steve…. Even Okoye, for two minutes they share the screen. I wouldn’t mind seeing her having a polyamory family with the Bartons. But then again, she didn’t need any romance at all, she is fine just wielding a power of friendship. I mean, my favorite Natasha scenes are her with Steve in Winter Soldier.

With Bruce she is suddenly boring and sad that she cannot have children. And the whole power of lullaby and the rest.. bleargh

2) Her history. Maybe because she didn’t have an origin movie and the definite origin story in the MCU, or because her comic origin are so weird and hard to update, but I am close to tearing my hair out every time Natasha says anything about begin Russian or have that part of her family addressed. I want to like having a great Russian character in MCU, but the fact is, there is nothing Russian in Natasha that we saw.

“Regimes fall every day. I tend not to weep over that, I'm Russian. Or I used to be.”

That phrase makes no sense whatsoever. It would be the contrary, I think. Regimes don’t fall that often in Russia for her to be so blasé about it. I mean, she might be blasé about it, but not because she is Russian (ethnically or culturally), but because due to her previous line of work she helped to fall some of them. That I could buy, but it’s not what she said. I mean, Joss Whedon is famous for his dialogues, but half of stuff Natasha says in Avengers directed by him, makes little sense.

And her name is weird for Russian eye and ear. Natasha, Natalia is great, it’s one of my grandmothers’ name. But “otchestvo”, name formed out of her fathers’ one? Makes no sense. Again, sometimes Russian names look weird transcribed in other languages’s alphabets, sure. Some people have rare and unusual names, sure. But it still looks more like a random selection of letters than actual names. Unless it the Black Widow movie it starts to make perfect sense. Her last name… Romanoff. I get it, it’s a comic convention. But it suggest immigration that happened in 18-early 20th centuries, not now. Now it would be Romanova or Romanov. And it was still fine, until the Black Widow movie that has Elena Belova as a character. Then it becomes really jarring.

Basically, all that Russian part of MCU makes no sense (Agent Carter has it really bad, BTW), and I suspect it will have even less sense after the Black Widow movie.

3) Her end in the “Endgame”. Ok, it might have made sense from Natasha’s POV to try and die for her friend – because Natasha is the best friend anyone can have, but from the story perspective – it was wrong to kill of Natasha instead of Clint and even worse not to acknowledge it properly. And Yes, people die all the time for many reasons, way before we are ready to let them go, but it was not what the story was about. It was such a waste, I am still sad about stupidity of it.

#mcu #black widow #natasha romanoff #my posts #mcu: commentary

5 notes · View notes

truthofherdreams · 6 years

Text

based on that infamous post

Back where you belong, Dmitry thinks with a quiet snort to himself.

He tries to move his hands, only to wince. The old hag tightened the cuffs as much as possible, it seems, preventing him from breaking free from them. Not that Dmitry ever did that. Only once. Okay, maybe twice. But still, he thinks as he rolls his eyes. It’s not like he can go far anyway, what with being locked in the back of a police car. He won’t go as far as opening the door and throwing himself out, not when they already have his name.

This is all Vlad’s fault anyway, and Vlad ran away before they could catch him. No loyalty among thieves, really. Dmitry rolls his eyes once more. The con was supposed to be an easy, fast one, but someone had snitched on them and, next thing Dmitry knew, the cops were there, putting silver around his wrists. He reallys hopes he can play the clueless teenage boy card to get himself out of this one.

He’s thinking over his lies and stories when a ringtone startles him out of his thoughts. The officer woman glances at him through the rearview mirror before taking the call, directly through the car’s speakers.

“Nastya, darling,” she says, her voice significantly warmer than it was when she read his rights to Dmitry. “How’s Alyosha?”

Dmitry’s ears perk up at the Russia nicknames, even more so at the young, feminine voice answering on the other side of the phone. “He’s fine. The doctor said the bruise looks worse than it is. He should feel better tomorrow.” There is a pause then, in a mischievous voice, “The bleeding was internal. It’s fine, it’s where blood is supposed to be.”

Dmitry can’t help but snort a laugh that the officer doesn’t share. Neither does the second feminine voice over the phone. “Nastya! I told you it’s not an appropriate joke!”

“It really is not,” the officer adds, her voice already more stern. She glances at him in the mirror once more, before Dmitry can wipe the smirk off his face. Oh well. “I have a young gentleman in the back of the car I need taken care of first.”

“Oooooh,” the first girl cooes. “Is he cute?”

There is a very long pause, Dmitry’s smirk widening into a shit-eating grin when the officer takes a longer look at him in the mirror. Like she’s actually pondering over the question. And then, to his surprise, “My granddaughter wants to know if you’re cute.”

He stands a little straighter, as straight at his bounded wrists will let him. Dmitry is a lot of things, but vain? Yeah, vain has to be on the top of the list. But it’s not actually being vain if it’s the truth, right? He knows he’s good looking, and that his face has an effect on women and men alike. He’s used his handsome features more than once, too, because if the universe gave him such a gift, it sure was for him to use it. So, bite him. Dmitry is cute, yeah.

“I want to say yes, ma’am.”

The officer can barely hold back a smirk at his candid honesty, even when she replies, “He’s arrogant, is what he is.”

The younger girl laughs, a beautiful sound if there ever were any. “All boys are, nana.”

…

Dmitry’s smile disappears by the time they make it to the station. He’s never been in this one before. Interesting. Still, he knows better than to be too cocky about it, if he wants to be out tonight -- nothing worse than a night in a cell. Not even the warm food is worth it.

He’s taken to the officer’s office which, much to his surprise, isn’t empty. Two teenage girls are sitting there, one reading peacefully in a corner while the other in on the computer, feet on the desk. Three guesses as to which voice belongs to whom, and the first two don’t count.

They both are pretty, too. So very pretty, with strawberry blond hair and blue eyes, looking almost regal in their summer dresses. Dmitry can’t look away from the one behind the computer, with her cheeks still round from childhood and the way she blows her hair away from her face. A small mutt dog is lying in her lap, and it wimpers a little when she sits up, her feet falling to the floor. She stares right back at him, one eyebrow raised, but doesn’t comment.

“Leave him alone while I grab the paperwork,” the officer comments with a finger toward the girl, who offers her grandmother a perfectly innocent smile. Then, she turns to him and, in a barking order, “Sit.”

Dmitry knows better than not to comply. He sits on the chair in front of the desk, wincing a little when he tries to lean back only to put his weight on his arms. Damn fucking cuffs. The girl blinks at him, before she turns to her sister.

“He’s cute,” she comments.

It takes Dmitry a moment to notice she switched languages from French to Russian. It’s hard to keep his smirk to himself, but he manages it, staring at the pen holder on the desk not to let his face betray him.

“He’s really not,” the second sister answers, not even looking up from her book. “The crooked nose works against him.”

“I like it. It makes him more handsome. Roguish.”

Dmitry can’t help it. “I broke it when I was four.”

He can almost taste the awkwardness, even before he raises his head to see the girl’s widening eyes. She blinks at him in stunned silence, obviously caught off guard. Paris has its lot of Russian migrants, but it’s rare to hear his native language on the streets, let alone in a small police station. What were the odds, really?

“You’re Russian,” she says, and it sounds less like a question than an accusation.

“So are you,” he shoots back in the same kind of tone.

She makes for replying something, frowning at him, when the officer comes back in the office. “Dmitry Sudayev,” she starts, and Dmitry has flashbacks of his mother yelling at him for stealing cookies from the kitchen. “Seems like you have friends in high places. Countess Malevsky-Malevitch just called.”

Dmitry perks up. Vlad wasn’t that much of a useless coward after all, that’s a relief. Dmitry doesn’t exactly looks forward to owing him a favour, though, because those never turn out to be pleasant. Everything but a night in a cell and a line added to his criminal record, though.

As it turns out, Officer Romanova (Romanova! It all makes sense now!) lets him out with nothing by a lecture and a warning, and Dmitry doesn’t have to be told twice. He bolts out of the police station before she can even finish her last sentence, leaving cuffs and pretty girls behind himself with no regret whatsoever.

It is only once he’s around the corner, stopping to shield his lighter from the wind so he can lit a cigarette, that Dmitry notices he isn’t as alone as he thought. The girl comes to lean next to him against the wall, chin tilt up and eyes close, soaking in the sun. Dmitry shamelessly stares at her, because why wouldn’t he? She’s the prettiest girl he’s ever seen. She’s…

“You’re Anastasia Romanova. The politician’s daughter.”

Everyone knows the story, how her father and mother got killed by an angry mob for their less than ethic choices in political views and less than democratic ways of forcing their laws onto the government. Dmitry’s father was part of the anti-Romanov party, as were so many of their friends back in Russia. The children had only survived because they were spending the summer in France with their grandmother, otherwise they would have been slaughtered too.

“Well, fuck you too,” she replies lightly. She cracks on eye open to glare at him, before she closes it again.

“I didn’t mean -- I -- brat.”

She snorts. “Asshole.”

She snatches his cigarette from his mouth before he even notices her moving, staring up at him as she takes a drag. Dmitry swallows with difficulty, all his blood suddenly leaving his brain to go to another part of his anatomy. Fucked, he’s definitely fucked.

Cigarette between her teeth, she grabs his arm and scribbles something on it, before running away. Dmitry blinks at the empty space where she was, then down at his arm. She wrote her phone number, and he can’t help but smirk.

He should get arrested more often.

#dimya #anastasia the musical #dimya fanfiction #*#ff: anastasia #fanfic #idek anymore tbh

59 notes · View notes