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Again With MeOdin – один
Early September, 1914
"You look so handsome, Ivan Rossiyavich."
"Thank you, Tsarina," Russia said sincerely as the woman to whom he spoke, Alexandra Romanova, adjusted the lay of his scarf over his uniform. This was the last he would see of her, of the family, for many months, and the love he had in his heart for her, for the children, allowed him to consent to the way they fussed over him—how the girls offered him knitted gloves and sweaters and socks and signed icons of orthodox saints, how Tsarina Alexandra worried for him and spoke to him as though she had borne him herself.
Of course, he would have consented to such treatment anyway.
"We'll pray for you, Cousin Vanya," one of the girls, fifteen year old Marie, promised.
"Thank you, Marie Nicholaevna," he replied.
"You'll write us often?" This was the eldest of the four girls, Olga. She tried her hardest to be grown up, but the worry in her eyes reminded Russia of her ag
Demon!Russia x Reader Part 4 (rewrite)It only lasted for a moment, but the heat and the sense of lost-ness was enough to make you want to wriggle out of Ivan’s grip and plummet to your death by whatever was beneath you. Fortunately, the sensation disappeared before you could give the plan any more thought.Demon!Russia x Reader Part 4 (rewrite) by SmarticleParticle
You opened your eyes a crack—when had you closed them?—and immediately, your hand shot to your mouth in terror. You glanced up at Ivan, only to find him staring down at you with amusement in his eyes. It was then that you realised how, in your panic, you had flung an arm around his neck and were clinging on to him as if your life depended on it.
Which it did, really, because you were flying.
The world below was unlike any place you had ever seen, and yet it was oddly familiar. The ground was grey and barren, as if coated in ash, but on a distant hillside were legions of tall, straight spikes that could have been tree trunks stripped of life. The sky was stony grey, just like
Demon!Russia x Reader Part 3 (rewrite)You could feel the demon looming over you, surrounding you with its membranous wings, needle-like teeth bared and inches from your throat, claws poised to rip through your chest in a desperate search for the soul you didn’t have.Demon!Russia x Reader Part 3 (rewrite) by SmarticleParticle
There was a throaty chuckle from behind you, and the demon leaned down until his lips really were a breath away from your ear. Goosebumps sprang up along your arms, despite the pit’s musty warmth.
“Look at me,” Ivan ordered suddenly.
You steeled yourself. No matter how hideous this creature was, you decided, you would not show your fear. You would not scream, or cry, or beg for mercy, because it was pointless. You would be brave, because it was the only thing you still had the power to do.
When you turned around and faced the demon, your plans for bravery almost fell apart.
Ivan looked nothing like the beast you
Demon!Russia x Reader Part 2 (rewrite)It was laughable, in a way. The Cult of Adaciel had been at almost-war with the Order of Exorcists for centuries, perhaps even millennia, yet neither side seemed to know the inner workings of the other.Demon!Russia x Reader Part 2 (rewrite) by SmarticleParticle
Except in this context it wasn’t laughable at all, because you sat in the back of a rickety wagon with your ankles and wrists bound, gagged, and with an itchy sack on your head.
“To stop you trying any magic,” one of the Cultists had explained smugly. They needn’t have bothered—the Soulless didn’t have the strength to access the white magic the exorcists used. White magic was useless for anything but exorcisms, anyway.
You couldn’t tell how long they’d been travelling. The wagon stopped once, briefly, so the horses could rest and your kidnappers could stretch their legs. At one point, you heard the birds begin their daily fanfare from the trees overhead. You curled in on yourself, as if you were tr
Demon!Russia x Reader Part 1 (rewrite)You had never been given a soul. This was why you were knelt on the filth-caked tiles, working until your fingers bled.Demon!Russia x Reader Part 1 (rewrite) by SmarticleParticle
Your hands stung in the searing, cloudy water as you scrubbed the dirt from some Exorcist’s white robes. They were probably Daniel’s, given how they stank.
You sighed, wringing the robe out and passing it to Morgan. He was only four, but since he was one of a set of triplets, he and his brother Stefan had been denied the privilege of a soul.
Kazimira had made it quite clear that they were lucky to be alive at all.
You watched as Morgan ran out to hang the robe on the line outside, before you dragged the basin of water outside and turned the lawn into a frothy swamp.
This communal hut for the Soulless wasn’t your home. You didn’t care what happened to it.
Sighing again, you scraped your (h/c) hair up into a bun. It was barely daylight, and already you felt comple
Stupid Snow (Russia x Reader)
“Snow, snow, snow, and more snow,” _______ griped, glaring at the white fluff as it engulfed her boots. “I hate snow.”
Ivan chuckled but didn’t comment. It was common for most people to hate snow towards the end of winter, but _______ hated it before, during, and after, no matter the time or season. It was something she simply disdained.
_______ kicked at a thick chunk of ice. She sighed and stuck her hands in her pockets, feeling unusually grouchy. It was like she could never get warm during winter; there was always a breeze that squeezed its way through a window, always a chill that seeped through thick jackets, always a cursed cold that went deep into the marrow of its victim’s bones. Ivan never seemed to mind snow or winter or chills, and despite his being Russian, she didn’t understand it. Didn’t it bother him even a little?
“I don’t get you,” she grumbled, scowling at the
Alone (Russia x Reader)
“This is the preposition, so then what follows must be the…?”
“Good! Simple enough, right? So, in this sentence what’s your preposition?”
“And the object?”
You smiled. “Good job! You’re not as bad at this as you say you are. I’ve never seen someone pick up grammar so quickly. You’re even better than a native English speaker.”
His cheeks became pink. “T-thank you… But it’s because I have you as my tutor.”
Leaning back in your chair, you casually disregard the praise he attempted to offer, saying that he was quite capable with or without you, and that if he really put his mind to it he could catch on very easily. He didn’t answer but simply began to work on the practice sentences you had created for him.
Tutoring Ivan wasn’t as
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