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sirowsky-stories · 8 months

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The Old Prince

So, this is my entry for the Halloween themed Pedro Pascal Writing Challenge hosted by @pedrocontestsrus Thank you for organizing this! And if anyone else is interested in entering the competition, here's a link to the post with all the info.

I chose Prompt #2 Theme: A Dark and Stormy Night. However, I suck at short, so this is basically just a teaser which I'm gonna have to continue outside of the contest.

Rating: Mature 18+ONLY Warnings: Monster Oberyn Martell x Female Reader, Game of Thrones AU, obviously Halloween themed, reader cusses, reader is attacked and abducted. Also, this is my first time writing Oberyn. Word Count: 4041 Author's Masterlist

You run at full speed despite the darkness, ignoring the burning in your lungs and the furious pounding of your heart, even though you know that he’s already gone and that your running would only scare him off if he wasn’t. The woods have always scared you and even now, in your mid-thirties, you still panic when you’re alone among the creaking old trees, spider webs and nightly active animals, all of whom seem intent on eating you. At least, to your own imagination.

“Damned it, Casper…” you breathlessly curse the horse for leaving you, once you’ve been forced to a stop by the pain in your lungs.

He’s normally very brave but being in the woods in the middle of a building storm is apparently too much even for his stout heart. So, you’re left to walk the remaining four miles to your house, and not for the first time, you find yourself wondering why the hell you’d chosen to live all the way out here, surrounded by the very woods that have always been such a source of discomfort to you.

“Because that was all you could afford, dimwit,” you chastise yourself out loud.

The house you now live in had been put up for sale after the previous owner had been missing for a few years and was eventually declared dead, despite her body never being found. It’s small and old, but well maintained and very charming, so you’d been surprised to be the only one interested in it.

You’ve lived there for over six years now and while it’s a bit secluded and a little too far from town, you do love it. The hiking trails leading up to the seven hills that make up the east boundary of the region run right by your property, and in daylight, you love to ride or just wander up to the peaks and admire the view.

There are rarely any larger wildlife passing through so for the most part, it’s quite safe, so long as you remember to bring water and check for lose rocks on the steeper sections of the trails. But now, in the near pitch-black darkness of night, you can’t even recognize the trail you’re on. So, why are you even out here?

Well, that would be because you’d started out in daylight, as usual, but then gotten involved in a search for another missing person in the hills, which had left you out there until well after nightfall. You had of course expected Casper to bring you home safe and sound, like he usually does no matter what’s going on around him. But unfortunately, on this occasion, the horse had lost its footing and fallen to the ground.

He’d gotten up without trouble, but since you’d no longer been on his back at that point, he’d gotten spooked, probably by the reins getting caught in his legs or something, and had taken off. You hope that he gets home without hurting himself, but you’re also quite angry with him for not recognizing your voice and staying by your side instead of running off on his own.

But your thoughts are disrupted by a creaking sound coming from behind you, a sound definitely not created by a tree. You stop, feeling a cold shiver move slowly down your spine, and you know that you’re in danger. You have no idea exactly what is watching you right now, but you know that something is.

You hear that same sound again, mere moments after the first, and even as you instinctively set off running, too panicked to even know if you’re still on the trail, your mind tries to work out what the hell that sound is. The winds are picking up, building towards the forecasted storm that has all the kids in town excited because of how perfect it is for the Halloween celebration, but it’s making it so much harder for you to hear if something’s chasing you.

Unable to stop yourself, you throw a look over your right shoulder, and a strangled scream escapes you when you catch a glimpse of something impossibly large and strangely shiny, and then just teeth. You try to run faster but you can’t. The dark world around you is a blur as you wait for those teeth to sink into your flesh and torture you to death. It seems to take so long.

And then it happens. You’re snagged to a stop so quickly that it makes your legs lift off the ground as they’re kicked forwards by the momentum. Something has your shoulder between its jaws, but that’s as much as you’re aware of before the world fades away and nothing exists anymore.

-=¤=-

You wake up on a bed in a room with a strange ceiling and stone walls. You’re groggy and only half awake, so it takes you a moment to realize that there are paintings covering the ceiling, making the stones look kind of fluid. Beautiful images of stormy seas and a red sunset flow across the domed shape, bringing it to life in a way that stone shouldn’t be capable of.

Then you remember, and bring your left hand up to examine your right shoulder, half expecting it to just not be there. But it is, and it feels fine. You sit up, relieved but also confused that there’s no pain, and as your bare feet hit the cold floors, your eyes are drawn to the rest of the room. It’s round and there’s a window in every direction, revealing the daylight outside, but also every detail inside.

The bed is easily large enough for two people, and the sheets and blankets are the softest you’ve ever felt. There’s a loveseat underneath one of the windows, with plush pillows leaned against the armrests. In the middle of the room is a carpet which you can tell just by looking at it, likely costs more than your house. And the curtains, four matching pairs, all a deep red, somehow seem both heavy and feathery light.

There’s a door to your left, and it’s standing open, so at least you’re not a prisoner. But you don’t feel like one regardless. All of this is so strange, because you’re sure that something bit you, but you can’t find any wounds in your skin. There are holes in your shirt, though. And where’s your jacket? Why are you barefoot?

You head for the door and find a winding staircase leading down, so this is apparently a tower. At the foot of the stairs is a corridor and then more stairs, twirling the other way this time, so you keep heading down, passing closed doors and empty spaces until you reach a pair of large double doors that are left wide open.

There’s a fire crackling inside and your cold feet and bare arms have left you shivering, so you head inside, finding the biggest open fireplace you’ve ever seen, in the other end of the huge room. It must be a ballroom or excessively large dining room, but it’s completely empty, save for a padded short stool in front of the fire.

You sit and warm yourself, trying to think back, to remember any details that might help you understand what’s happened to you, but nothing comes to mind. And then a movement to your right startles you to your feet.

“My apologies, miss. I have a habit of moving quietly,” a dark and low voice says, and when you locate the man who that voice belongs to, you’re momentarily stunned into silence.

He’s tall and broad, but quite lean, with a perfectly chiseled jaw and a beard trimmed to accentuate that. He wears no jewelry, but his dark green coat has golden threads and small embroideries on the cuffs and along the collar. Shapes too small for you to make out at ten feet of distance, but which from afar remind you of snakes. Still, it’s his eyes that rob your brain of most its function.

So dark, but also incredibly expressive. He’s curious, intrigued, but wary. As though you might pose a threat to him somehow, which seems impossible to you.

“W-… Where are my shoes?” you manage to croak, still unable to break away from his eyes.

“I took your shoes and your jacket to encourage you not to run away once you awoke. I’m afraid I am going to need you to remain here for the time being,” the man explains, and suddenly your brain wakes up in full.

“So, I’m your captive, is that what you’re telling me?”

“Yes, and no. You are my captive, as much as I am yours.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? I have no idea who you are,” you counter, getting angry because that’s all you can do to keep from panicking.

“My name is Oberyn, and this is my home. You’re welcome to explore as much as you like, but I would recommend staying away from the basement. Especially at night.”

“Why? Do you have more prisoners down there you don’t want me to set free?”

“Oh, there are cages down there, and many of them are occupied,” he says, while taking a few steps closer to you. “But I doubt that you would want to release any of the creatures that are locked inside.”

Creatures? What the hell does he mean by that? He’s only three feet away when he stops, just as the outside light catches his eyes at a different angle, and you can swear that you see something else within them. A bright golden shine seems to illuminate them from within for just a fraction of a second, as if reacting to the sun’s rays.

“The tower is yours. I will not venture there without your approval for the duration of your stay. But the rest of the castle is my domain, and you move through it at your own risk. Do you understand?” he asks, to which your anger flares.

“Understand? No… I really don’t. Who are you?! What is this place, where the hell am I?! There aren’t any castles anywhere near the seven hills! And what the hell was it that chased me last night, and why do I have bitemarks in my shirt but not on my skin? What the fuck is going on?!”

He lets you scream and rant without so much as a twitch bothering his mustache, and says nothing as you begin to pace in front of the fireplace, crossing your arms in silent defiance, but also an attempt to guard yourself against all this strangeness.

“You were bitten by a serpent,” he quietly says, just as you’re about to give up and leave the room.

“It was a lot bigger than any snake, and it had a lot more than two fangs,” you counter, all but spitting at him now, further angered by the notion that he might be trying to convince you that you imagined the whole thing.

“I didn’t say that it was a snake,” he replies, and you stop pacing.

“And what is a serpent if not a damned snake?” you challenge, but he seems unbothered.

“Is that all it can be? You must think broader than that, young one.”

His words make no sense to you. Serpent, snake, fucking danger noodle, it’s all the same. And “young one”? He’s at most five years older than you.

“Please, just tell me where we are?” you finally ask, deciding that there’s probably no point in trying to argue with this mystery man.

He looks at you for a good minute then, as if trying to decide if he should answer, and you notice that he doesn’t blink a lot, which is surprisingly unsettling.

“We are six hundred and nine miles from your home. Give or take a few dozen feet.”

That takes you a second to process.

“What!?” you almost scream, unable to take any more of this incomprehensible nonsense. “Do you honestly expect me to believe that you had a fucking helicopter hidden in the woods, or something?”

“Take a look outside the windows,” he calmly suggests. “I’m sure the snow on the ground will help you come to terms with the truth that you are no longer as far south as you think.”

Unwilling to take his word for it, you walk over to the nearest window, where the view makes your heart sink. Because he’s right. Not only are there several inches of snow covering everything in sight, but you also don’t recognize the landscape at all. And that’s when the realization of just how much trouble you’re in, finally dawns on you.

Turning away from the window, you now meet your captor’s eyes, for the first time with fear brimming within your own. Unable to stop yourself, you try to back away from him but there’s a wall in the way, so you start moving sideways instead, heading for the open double doors of the room. He doesn’t try to stop you, but just before you turn your back to him as you’re crossing the threshold, his expression turns incredibly sad.

You run through the halls, fully panicking now and having no idea where you’re even going. But then another set of large double doors are in front of you, so you grab the handle on one of them and pull it open. It’s the front entrance. You’re standing on the top ledge of another staircase, this one twisting off in both directions, leading down to a massive courtyard.

There’s a fountain in the shape of a rearing Pegasus in the middle, so big that the lilac shrubs which surrounds it barely even reach halfway up its hindlegs. And beyond that, is a giant garden of cherry trees and rhododendron hedges, in the middle of which, a wide driveway comes straight through, right up to the courtyard. A driveway that’s so long, you can’t even see the end of it, where it disappears into the surrounding woods.

You couldn’t run from here even with your shoes and jacket.

The freezing wind brushes over your exposed skin, making you shiver and wrap your arms around yourself while sorrow suddenly burns through you, bringing tears to your eyes. But then something soft and warm falls over your shoulders and you flinch, spinning on your heels and quickly backing away, further out onto the ledge to try and get away from him, which means stepping into the icy cold snow in just your skin.

“Please…” he says, and he sounds alluringly soft and inviting now, which only adds to your suspicions. “I have no intention of harming you.”

“Then how about you tell me what exactly your intention is?” you counter, barely able to keep your jaws from clattering with how badly you’ve started shaking.

He takes a deep breath and then slowly releases it, somehow looking sadder and more tired with each milliliter of air that escapes him.

“I just… I’m sorry. Please, come back inside before you get frostbite on your feet.”

“That’s n-not an answer,” you challenge, already trembling all over now.

“I know, this is why I’m sorry, but how is hurting yourself going to help the situation?” he wonders, and you have to concede that it doesn’t.

You huff once in defiance, and then step forward, allowing him to wrap the blanket around you. But you hadn’t expected him to sweep you up into his arms and carry you inside.

“Hey, I c-can still walk, p-put me down!”

“The floors are cold here. I will put you down once you’re in a room with a rug.”

“Or you c-could just give me b-back my shoes,” you gripe, and he hums in what sounds like a thoughtful manner to you, as if he’s conceding that maybe he was wrong to take them from you.

But he says nothing more, and as he carries you through the empty hallways, none of which look familiar to you because this place is apparently a damned maze, you steal a few closer glances at him. His skin is in better condition than yours ever has been, to the point where even his stubble looks soft. And his hair looks flawless. Not one strand of the curls on his head seems damaged or less bouncy than the rest. And the same goes for his beard and mustache.

His clothes are perfectly tailored, and they look new, but they don’t smell like it. Instead, the only smell you detect seems to be his, and it’s not at all unpleasant. Contrarily, the longer you smell him, the more inviting the scent becomes. You’re somewhat embarrassed to realize that you’ve stopped shivering with the warmth that spreads through you from within, just from that delicious scent.

The room that he finally turns into is small and smells of paper, reminiscent of the old bookstore in the city back home, run by a sweetheart of an old lady who also happens to be the grandmother of the missing woman who’s house you live in. She was the only one who’d come by with a housewarming gift after you’d moved in. That’s how sparsely populated your social circle is.

It looks to be an office, of sorts. There’s a fireplace here too, already lit and crackling warmly in the far corner of the room. To the left is a desk filled with scrolls of paper and what looks like old maps of countries you don’t recognize, and to the right are shelves filled with more scrolls, books and scraps of paper. There’s an armchair and a small sofa in front of the fire, and he sets you down on the sofa before kneeling in front of you to inspect your wet and freezing feet.

You’re about to argue that you’re perfectly capable of tending to your own extremities, but something about his touch stops you. His fingers seem warmer than they should be, almost feverishly so, but more than that, his skin feels like it’s giving off tiny electric impulses where it meets yours. And the feeling is highly intoxicating.

He quickly examines your feet and then sits back and looks up at you again, where a curious expression flashes across his features as he notices that you’re suddenly a bit out of it. He seems concerned at first, and then… is he blushing?

“If I get you your socks and your boots, will you promise me that you will not go running into the woods and getting yourself lost?” he asks, sternly holding your gaze while he looks for any traces of deception in your answer.

Except you don’t give any. Because you can’t make that promise. Not when you still don’t know why he’s brought you here or why he intends to keep you here.

“I don’t suppose it would make much difference if I told you that we are much too far away from any other people for you to make it there alive in winter?” he sighs, and he does seem genuinely worried that you won’t believe him.

“Actually, I do believe you on that part. I just also believe that dying while running for your freedom might be better than living in captivity,” you explain, and once again, something terribly sad comes over him.

“I really wish you could trust that I don’t intend to harm you, young one.”

“Why do you call me that? I can’t be that much younger than you.”

He chuckles drily at that, but it’s a sound of hopelessness rather than bemusement.

“If only that were true…” he says quietly, turning his gaze to the floor for a moment before he rises and leaves the room.

When he returns, only a few seconds later, he’s carrying your shoes and wool socks, both of which he appears to have cleaned, hands them to you and then steps back while you put them on. For a moment, you contemplate more questions, but the more you think about the strangeness of this whole situation, the more you just want to pretend that it’s a dream and that you’re gonna wake up and laugh at yourself any second now.

“The tower’s mine?” you find yourself asking, instead of any real questions.

“That whole wing is yours for as long as you’re here,” he nods.

“And how long might that be?”

“For now, I can’t say with any certainty, but hopefully no more than a few days.”

He does look genuinely apologetic as he says that, but you’re relieved to hear it. Somehow, you’d envisioned being a captive for years, locked away in that tower. But there’s something innately honest about this guy. You have no reason to trust anything he says, and yet you do.

“And what determines how long my stay ends up being?” you wonder, while rising from the sofa and daring yourself to take one step towards him.

He doesn’t react in any visible way to your truly minimal challenge, but you wonder if perhaps he likes that you don’t just accept your circumstances when they don’t feel right to you. There’s a little glimmer in his eyes that might just be a hint of awe.

“How long it takes me to figure out how you’re still alive,” he quietly answers, bringing you back to the severity of the moment.

Turning away from you, he reaches for an old-fashioned candlestick holder, lights the candle and then hands it to you.

“Living light reveals the path to the tower,” he says, as if that isn’t the most useless piece of information you’ve ever gotten, and then gestures to the open door.

Utterly confused, you step out into the dusky hallway, half expecting the wooden door to slam shut behind you, but it doesn’t. When you turn back to ask him which direction to turn, you find him right behind you, already showing you to the right with a gentlemanly open hand aiming that way. You nod your thanks and begin walking, still without a clue as to what the candle is meant to show you. Until it does.

Once the dancing light hits a certain wall, a faint glow appears in a thin line running along the wall, around waist-height. You follow it, seeing it fade away as soon as the flame isn’t directly in front of it, and before you know it, you’re back at those winding stairs. Walking back into the chamber at the top, you find that nothing’s moved since you left.

You walk around the room, examining everything more closely, finding two large and fully stocked bookcases hidden behind drapes on either side of the fireplace. There’s also a closet built into the wall next to the bed, and there are very old dresses hanging in there, covered with dust, making you wonder who the girl might’ve been that those clothes had originally belonged to.

Realizing that you haven’t asked your captor how to get food or how he intends to figure out how you’ve miraculously healed, you spend a few minutes pondering on whether you’ve got the energy to make the long walk back down to look for a kitchen and ask if you’re expected to come down from your tower at any specific times. But ultimately, you decide to leave it for now, picking out a book instead. You’re too stressed still to be able to eat anything anyway.

The book keeps you occupied for the entire afternoon, and it isn’t until it grows dark that you eventually close it and get up, intending to go looking for that kitchen. You’d left the candle holder in the window that faces the front of the castle, although you can’t see the courtyard from behind the main structure, but as you go to pick it up, a movement outside catches your eye.

Peering down towards the ground, you see a door swing open, and then something runs across the section of the yard that you can see. It’s so fast that you can’t be sure, but it looks like it could be what attacked you last night. And it looks like… a dragon. A dragon that just ran out of the same castle where you’re trapped.

Part 2

Thank you for reading! I had so much fun with this and I'm nowhere near done with it. Huge Thanks to @joelswritingmistress for inspiring me to take on Oberyn, I didn't think I ever would.

If anyone wishes to be notified when this story is updated, follow @sirowsky-stories and turn on notifications, or just ask nicely, and I'll tag you.

#PedroHalloween2023 #pedro pascal character fanfiction #oberyn martell fanfiction #oberyn martell x female reader #oberyn x reader #game of thrones fanfiction #game of thrones au #modern!au #halloween writing #sirowsky stories

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marveinator · 1 year

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Bad Idea Bella Ramsey x fem!oc (original character)

inspired by "Bad Idea" by girl in red (after part one) masterlist

This story is complete imagination and how Bella acts here is probably not how they would act irl. They/them pronouns used for Bella. pairing: Bella Ramsey x fem!oc (Mina Willow Lane) word count: 2.4k summary: You and Bella have been childhood friends, but broke off contact because of their acting career. Will your paths ever meet again? a/n: I´ve had this obsession with girl in red for a while now and of course with Bella so... here yall go! I hope many people read this story, because I am again putting my whole heart into this. And I figured since I basically already read all the Bella fics existing, I´d just write my own. Enjoy! I will try to make the chapters as long as possible so that I don´t have to post so many parts and yall can read the story faster! (Don´t be mad I simply but Pedro in the hashtags because he´s a part of the story) chapter warnings: nickname calling, ig that´s it? next chapter: Bella and Mina decide to go to a party as friends- but are they leaving it like this again?

I closed my laptop. I had just finished watching an interview of Bella Ramsey and Pedro Pascal. Not only because I was so interested in the series "The last of us", but also because… well. Long story.

I knew Bella. Well, at least I used to. I don't know what they´re like now…. but I'm trying to find out by watching all these videos about them. I miss our friendship a lot.

When we were little, our parents were very good friends and so we always played together. However, when they turned 11, their career went on and on and we broke off contact. They were too busy and now we really had no contact at all, especially since their new series.

I read through the comments under some tiktoks about them and realized how many girls admired Bella. Not only because of their acting, no, also as a person. For whatever reason, I felt an uneasy feeling in my stomach. I wanted to go out and scream loudly "I know Bella Ramsey in person!" just so- I don't even know why. I knew all these girls probably had no contact with Bella, and to be exact, I was one of them too.

It just hurt to lose friends. I missed how Bella would still send me videos every now and then of them practicing their guitar, or when we would have a pie-eating contest together when we were 8. I missed their brown eyes and their beautiful hair. Which, as I had now noticed, was a lot shorter.

But Bella was without a doubt still beautiful. Even more beautiful than I remembered, to be exact.

Sometimes I wondered if they still knew that I even existed. My Bella would never forget me, they were outgoing and cheerful. But were they still like that? What if they had changed? I probably wouldn't even find out.

I turned over in my bed with a sigh. For a few months now, I no longer lived with my parents, but in a small apartment on the outskirts of London.

I grabbed my phone from the table besides my bed and decided to go a bit on Instagram. Only to find a new post of Bella on my home feed. They posted a few behind the scenes pics of their new short film “Requiem” which I had obviously already watched. I sighed and liked the post.

This is how it had been for years. I went on their Instagram, liked the new posts and it went unnoticed by Bella. Of course, they probably got thousands of notifications a day, but still, it made me a bit sad. Almost seemed like they completely forgot about me.

Sometimes I wanted to post something just to see if they would like it- but on the other hand I knew that if they wouldn´t, I´d be heartbroken.

I sighed and switched off my phone, after seeing it was already 11 pm. Usually I stayed up longer, but today I felt extra exhausted. Which didn´t make any sense, I mean I stayed at home the entire day.

That´s what I do most of the time. Normally I work at a small café, but it´s currently closed because they are fixing some stuff in there. I´ve been looking for a new job for the few weeks while it´s closed, but everybody said they only would accept me if I would stay. And I love the café I work at too much and having two jobs isn´t an option right now, so- whatever.

The boss said they´d probably open again in 2 weeks- which was 3 weeks ago. I honestly didn´t know what to do because I did slowly run out of money… I just hoped they would open as soon as possible again.

*1 week later*

I didn´t even know if it was legal that I wasn´t even paid while the café was closed (because that seriously wasn´t my fault?) but I managed to handle everything and was back at work again now.

I wiped all the tables clean; we would open soon. I already saw some people outside patiently waiting, so many loved this place.

Not going to lie, I mean the drinks were good, the workers were friendly, and the little muffins were worth coming here.

After we finished preparing everything, I nodded at my coworker Jamie, and he opened the door.

3 hours later the whole café was full, except for one table. This was good, maybe I would get a lot of tips today. I thanked an older couple who just paid and went over to the next table. “Hey, what can I get for you?”, I asked as I looked up from the wallet where I had just put the money in. You gotta be shitting me.

“Mina? Oh my god, you´re the last person I thought I would see here!”

It was Bella.

Bella fucking Ramsey was sitting on the table in front of me.

What is this, a fucking movie? I surely doubt that.

“Hi, Bella”, was all I managed to say. Bella smiled from one side to the other and happily jumped up from their chair to hug me. It hit me all of the sudden and so I awkwardly hugged back. Bella seemed to notice that I was quite surprised about their sudden action, because they replied with a short “Shit, sorry, that was a bit- out of nowhere…”

They sat down again and looked up at me. We were almost the same height; I was just a little bit shorter. I know, I was tiny or something. Sorry.

“Uh- how have you been? Oh wait- I´m probably interrupting you and your work- uh… Can you recommend anything that is vegan?” I looked at them. Seeing them in real life after such a long time was insanely weird but amazing at the same time. “I´ve been alright I guess, and no worries, they won´t mind if I stay here a minute longer than I should. Well, we have normal juices that are probably vegan, but also, I love the vegan version of our hot chocolate or the iced coffee”, I replied.

Bella smiled again and nodded. “Choose one of those for me, I don´t mind which one, it´s your choice.” I agreed and went to get them a drink. I decided to serve them the iced coffee, I loved it a lot. When it was done, I made sure to decorate it a bit, just because it was for Bella. I know, you shouldn´t prefer any customers, but… could you blame me? I just met my childhood best friend (who is also like- really famous now) after years of no contact again.

With this in mind, I went over to the “boss” of the café, Brian. “Hey, uh, would you mind if I-“ He nodded, without even letting me finish my sentence. “You´re free for today, I figured out it was them.” I had told Brian everything about Bella because overtime we grew closer. Not in any romantic way though, I mean he was a 45-year-old married man, and I was definitely a lesbian (he also knew that). I smiled as I thanked him before running of to Bella (not forgetting their iced coffee of course).

I asked if I could sit down a bit, and they said yes. “So- you just got free for today? That easily?”, Bella asked as I gave them their iced coffee. “Yes, but, it´s only an exception, because well, we haven´t seen each other in such a long time and… yeah- “, I answered.

“I missed you, Mina Willow Lane. I´m sorry I didn´t stay in contact with you, I was just so… busy with work and I know that´s a shitty excuse because I mean almost everyone our age works and you should never leave your friends behind”, the brunette across me explained. “I just felt like it would be easier for the both of us that we weren´t in contact that much anymore because I knew that if we stayed best friends, you would be pulled into the spotlight too and I knew you wouldn´t want that.”

I looked into their eyes and tried to smile a bit. “I know… still. You just like- vanished. I´ve missed you like hell too though, Isabella May Ramsey. Don´t ever leave me like that again, or I swear to god I´m gonna get more mad than last time”, I explained. Bella laughed and nodded. “Do you maybe… wanna hang out a bit? I´m not working for a few weeks and we could- get to know each other again, I mean it was a long time, right?”

I decided to agree with Bella and later that day we went for a walk outside.

“You know, I live in this hotel and the people there are like sooooo rude. I´ve been trying to find a better one for weeks. But they have so many good vegan food options, that´s the main point why I chose it”, they explained while walking next to me. I was so happy we were finally together again; I had missed them so much I almost went insane.

“You could stay at mine, I mean, I still have a guest bed left, and it´s just a tiny apartment, but I could make you any vegan food you´d like-“, I said without any hesitation.

Bella Ramsey POV

I stared at Mina. Was she serious about this? Oh.

"I mean, yeah, I'd love to.... But I really don´t want to get into your way of living-", I replied to her offer. "Keep it down Bella, you're not going to get in my way or anything. Besides, if you live with me, we can spend more time together, I mean you owe me that somewhere after all...", said the girl walking next to me with a grin on her face. I couldn't stop smiling either, we had seen each other for the first time in years and had only been walking for 1 or 2 hours- but I already never wanted to leave her again.

I had to admit, I had missed Mina a lot. Sometimes I even went to her Instagram account, but they didn't post anything there and so I couldn't even know what she looked like now. But when I saw her in front of me today, I recognized her immediately. She hadn't changed a bit. Her hair was still long and dark blonde, her eyes green. Her style was a bit different, but I wasn't complaining, I was convinced that she looked good in everything she wore.

"So... you get your stuff, and we meet at mine again?", Mina asked, nudging me out of my thoughts. I nodded and we parted ways again.

As soon as she was gone, everything was different. I immediately missed her laugh, her beautiful green eyes and her unique way. I hated myself inside that I had pushed such an amazing girl away from me.

Just as I was packing up my things in my hotel room, my cell phone rang. Pedro.

"Hey Pedge, what's up?", I picked up. "I just wanted to check up on you, you haven't called in a while..." I had to chuckle, Pedro worried about me so often, for no reason. But I was grateful to have him, he was almost like a best friend by now- or more likely an annoying MUCH older brother. (To be honest- most of the time it was a father-daughter relationship, with me being the dad of course-)

"You're not going to believe this. I met her. Let´s keep it short and sweet, we uh- move in together?" Pedro stared at me (he just loved video calls, okay-) "You what?!" (A/N: I swear I wrote that and had Bill's voice in my head...)

I just grinned a little sheepishly and stared at Pedro.

"I'm so happy for you. You had missed her so much, and now you're going to see her every day for a while.... But- Bella. Keep me up to dated... if- you know- anything happens-" Pedro said with a wink. I just rolled my eyes.

I had probably told him about Mina almost every day, so now he thought I wanted something from her (in a romantic way). Sure, I loved her, but she was really just a friend- (A/N: Adrien Agreste who?)

"Pedro please, nothing special will happen between the two of us," I replied dumbly. After a while I hung up again, I finally had to finish packing.

Mina Lane POV

Nervously, I bounced around my apartment while waiting for Bella to arrive. Everything was clean, I had put a new bar of towels in the bathroom, picked out a few vegan recipes, and prepared the guest bed for them. The guestroom was right next to mine, and about the same size.

Sure, why had I left this room vacant when I lived alone? Well... just in case an old friend would show up here once-

Suddenly I heard the doorbell ring and I pressed the door opener, so that the front door opened downstairs. Now I had only a few seconds until Bella would stand in front of me, with their luggage, ready to move in for a few weeks. Everything had happened so fast, I couldn't even believe it yet.

When there was a knock on the door of my apartment, I felt goose bumps rising all over my body. Carefully I turned the door knob to the right and opened the door. Bella was dressed differently now, they had gray sweatpants and a dark green sweater on, much more simple and comfortable - but still beautiful.

"Hey, come on in," I said and accompanied Bella into the kitchen. It was an open kitchen overlooking the living room (A/N: Here a plan I MADE of the apartment, so that you can imagine it better <;3).

"Cozy in here," Bella said with a grin on their face. I had to giggle and showed them around.

"There's only one bathroom, unfortunately, but it's between our rooms, so I hope that's okay-", I explained. "Oh love, don't act like I'm a complete stranger, we've definitely had sleepovers, so if we ever run into each other in the bathroom at night, I think I'll be able to handle it-", Bella grinned. My face turned red. Not only because of the nickname, but also because of the way they looked at me. What was wrong with me?

"Um yeah... I think it´s pretty late already, I picked out food, plain pasta with tomato sauce, hope that's okay..." Bella nodded and thus I started cooking the food while they settled into their new room. This was going to be a few interesting weeks....

#bella ramsey x you #bella ramsey x reader #bella ramsey #ellie williams #fluff #lesbian #sapphic #writeblr #pedro #lgbtq #pedro pascal #fanfiction #fanfic #the last of us #isabella may ramsey #marveinator #friends to lovers

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jerzwriter · 1 year

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Boggles the Mind

Crossing fandoms here! I reached out to Choices beloved @/artbyainna on IG and asked if she would be willing to try a commission for Joel and Ellie from The Last of Us. The brilliant woman said anything that gives her reason to ogle Pedro Pascal is a-ok in her book - and this gorgeous creation is the result! Ainna, as always, is a freaking gift!

I wanted to capture a simple, fun night shared between the two after arriving in Jackson. I hope the art warms your heart as much as it did mine, and I hope the silly little fic below brings you a smile or two.

Fandom: The Last of Us Featuring: Ellie Williams, Joel Miller, Tommy Miller Warnings: None, just cursing Words: 944 Summary: Joel and Ellie have been making good use of that Boggle game, but who is the victor in this contest?

~~~~~

She had really gotten a knack for this. Not only could Ellie keep her eye on the timer while furiously scribbling away on the shred of paper resting on her knee, but she was now even able to sneak a peek or two at her competition as she did.

Her increasingly frustrated competition.

“That’s it! Stop writing, Joel!” she hollered, smacking his arm for effect.

Joel winced silently, attempting to block his paper from her view, but Ellie was too quick. Stretching her neck, she peered at his answers while furtively holding her own list close against her chest.

“HA!” She roared, raising her fists in victory. “Fuck yes!! I won again! Pay up, old man!”

Joel’s eyes narrowed, and his lips twisted in bemused annoyance. Deep down, he loved how this old game lifted her spirits, but sometimes…

“Now, how do you figure that? We haven’t even tallied up the scores yet. Hell, I haven’t even seen your answers!”

“No need,” Ellie goaded with pride. “My list is at least twice as long as yours… so even if I have to cross half of mine out, I still win. Now quit stalling and pay up!”

“Give me that,” Joel blustered, grabbing Ellie’s list from her lap. “Half of these words are curses! They don’t even count.”

“Uh, Joel… we’ve been over this already,” she sang. Putting on a sour face and lowering her voice several decibels, she turned her head and mimicked Joel.

‘Uh, Ellie… remember our conversation about curses not counting?’ she teased.

“Uh, no, Joel… because we never had the conversation…."

'I think we did. I distinctly remember us discussing it.'

"Well, then we’re going to have to have Maria send you to the infirmary because I think dementia may be settling in sooner than we anticipated.”

She reached over and snatched the two sheets of paper back from Joel, who softly chuckled despite himself.

“So, shall we tally up?” she winked.

Joel watched as she quickly crossed out duplicates and added up points on the margins of the page.

“Shit! No wonder you keep trying to get curses taken out… I know like ten times more than you do. I can see how that’s embarrassing.”

“That’s not true!” he insisted. “I know plenty more than you. I’m just… I’m trying to be a gentleman.”

Ellie’s head shot up, her brows all but reaching the top of her forehead.

“Really? That’s why you have fucker and fuckface… which I would argue is two words and therefore doesn't count… on your list, Mr. Trying-to-be-a-Gentleman.”

Tommy had silently entered the room and was pouring himself a drink, his lips pursed in an attempt to contain his laughter. Ever since Joel and Ellie returned to Jackson, he felt like he had his own personal sitcom at his disposal. But he wasn’t quiet enough, and Ellie jumped at the opportunity to reel him in.

“Tommy! What do you say? Is fuckface one or two words?” She implored.

“Oh, no way,” Tommy simpered. “I am not getting in the middle of this one.”

“The hell you aren’t!” Joel insisted. “Come on! You're my brother… back me up!”

“Tomster,” Ellie chided. “Can you maybe grow some hair on them and answer… we can handle the truth.”

Joel shot his younger brother a look of persuasion. “You heard the lady. So, one word or two?”

Tommy took a moment to think, then cleared his throat before answering.

“I believe fuckface is a noun. Therefore, it is one word.”

“Yes!” Joel hissed, savoring his tiny victory as Ellie dramatically rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, yeah… whatever, I still kicked your ass. Final score, 17 for me, 9 for you… even with fuckface!”

“Let me see that!” Joel snapped, taking the papers back from her hands. Tommy looked over his brother's shoulder and met Ellie’s gaze with a grin.

“Looks like she beat you fair and square, hermano,” he ribbed as Joel crumbled the papers.

“Ha! YOU LOSE! Pay up, old man… pay up!”

“What are you two wagering, anyway?” Tommy asked.

“The cans of Chef Boyardee ravioli we found at that abandoned convenience store last week.”

“Chef, Chef Boy…” Tommy muttered. “You two realize you’re not scavenging out there on the lam anymore… right? You act like you’re not getting three delicious, homemade squares daily. Don’t even let Maria hear you talking like this.”

“Hey, with all due respect to the fine, and I do mean fine, cuisine you offer up here in Jackson… there is a certain… je ne sais quoi about Chef Boy that cannot be denied.”

“Je ne sais?” Joel stumbled. “What… we’re talking French now? You got any French words on that list because they sure don’t count!”

“Nope! I kicked your ass in plain old English,” she grinned, a smile so bright it warmed the man’s heart.

“Okay, fine!” He relented and retreated the canned delicacy from his jacket, tossing it Ellie’s way.

She caught it with one hand and beamed. “Yes!” She whispered as Tommy looked on with amusement.

“I can’t believe you’re stealing an old man’s ravioli,” Tommy teased.

“Hey, that’s slander! I’m not stealing. I won this fair and square! Besides,” she smiled at Joel, “he knows I’m going to share it with him anyway.”

“Then what’s the point of all this?!” Tommy squawked.

“Bragging rights,” the two answered in unison.

“Rights that I clearly have,” Ellie giggled.

“So what do you say, Joel?” She asked. “Want me to heat these up for a midnight snack.”

Shanking his head with a smirk, Joel leaned over and gently kissed her forehead.

“Go ahead. I’ll be waiting for you right here.”

Just gonna tag a few of my fellow TLOU fans; I hope you enjoy it! @icecoffee90 @a-crepusculo @danijimenezv @bex-la-get @writer-ish @annfg8 @kyra75 @missameliep @inlocusmads @cariantha @jerzwriter-reblogs-asks and, Bree, I'm tagging you for Pedro, not TLOU lol @jamespotterthefirst

#the last of us #tlou #tlou fanart #tlou fanfic #joel miller #ellie williams #joel and ellie #tlou hbo #pedro pascal #bella ramsey

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absurdthirst · 1 year

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Does a fic have to have smut in it to be good?

What a headline, huh? Well, the thing is... I've been writing a Joel drabble. I know it's short and without smut, but I was very proud of it.

Yet, there's barely any interaction while others get 500 or 1K notes in the blink of an eye. I know this isn't a popularity contest, but I'd just love for someone to interact with it. I so wanna be a part of this community, been reblogging fics for years, talking to some awesome people and yet... now that I write, no one wanna reblog mine.

So... does it all really come down to the smut?

I know there's the option Im a horrible writer, but some people have told me my stories are good.

Sorry for this vent. Guess it all boils down to me wanting so bad to be part of the Joel hype, but I can't without smut it seems 😅🙈

(Your Joel was amazeballs, by the way. Top tier ❤️)

Honestly, it doesn't matter about the smut. I've got smut but there are some fics that don't break 200 notes.

It's honestly a crapshoot here. It could also come down to how you tag. A lot of times when I'm looking, I'll only look under the Pedro Pascal tag because I don't have time to check every one of them.

Don't give up and please feel free to send me a rec with the link to the fic!!! 💜

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cityofdreamsrp · 1 year

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WELCOME TO OUR SNOWMAN BUILDING CONTEST!

Everyone will be randomly paired together, and each team will build and decorate their own snowman. Once your snowman is complete, post a picture using the hashtag #codsnowman and tagging @cityofdreamsevents so that we can reblog for everyone to see. We have a panel of judges ready to select the winners, and the winners will receive an incentive of their choice! All contest entries should be posted by 8 PM EST on Wednesday, 2/22 to count towards voting. Any entries made after that will not count.

**We do ask that prior to posting your snowman picture, please check the tag to make sure someone else hasn’t used that particular one**

See below for the pairings! Get with your partner to plan out your snowman and get your post drafted. If you’d like to write out the process via F2F or gif chat, or even if you just want to headcanon it with your partner, will be entirely up to you!

Jessica Chastain & Talia Ryder

Emma Stone & Sidney Crosby

Lottie Tomlinson & Madelyn Cline

Joseph Quinn & Cody Christian

Saoirse Ronan & Shawn Mendes

Lauren Jauregui & Ariana Grande

Mitchell Marner & Florence Pugh

Robbie Amell & Max Domi

Dove Cameron & Jack Lowden

Margot Robbie & Sabrina Carpenter

Hailey Baldwin & Ryan Ross

Joe Burrow & Chris Evans

Sophie Turner & Pedro Pascal

Renee Rapp & Kelsea Ballerini

Jonathan Daviss & Natalia Dyer

Austin Butler & Sydney Sweeney

Gracie Dzienny & James Norton

Taylor Swift & Zac Efron

Nina Dobrev & Sofia Carson

Vanessa Morgan & Demi Lovato

Imogen Poots & Nick Jonas

Taylor Hill & Bill Skarsgard

Harry Styles & Hunter Schafer

Luke Hemmings & Winona Ryder

Rudy Pankow & Awsten Knight

Laura Harrier & Vanessa Hudgens

Elizabeth Olsen & Grace Van Dien

Troye Sivan & Travis Kelce

Patrick Mahomes & Jacob Elordi

Timothee Chalamet & Zendaya

Cari Fletcher & Ja’Marr Chase

Alexandra Daddario & Daniel Ezra

Gemma Chan & Selena Gomez

Joe Jonas & Alycia Debnam-Carey

Emilia Clarke &

#codgoestoaspen #codsnowman

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theharddeck · 2 years

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not a head canon but i have to discuss with someone… according to the calendar in the movie, it’s almost halloween during maverick’s test flight.

…what do we think the dagger squad was for halloween? who won the costume contest (at the hard deck, of course), and why was it some obscure pairs costume nat and bob did together?

💌 @laracrofted

(can you tell i want to write a one-shot or drabble of this?)

first of all, you simply MUST tag me in that one-shot!! okay here's my picks...

Coyote and Hangman decide to go as Mr. and Mrs. Smith immediately, but then spend the next month bickering over who gets to be who. They finally decide not to go with the black formals from the movie cover, but in pajamas after the house is destroyed. Jake's in an oversized button down and red galoshes, Javy is in a messy tshirt and shorttttttttt white shorts and combat boots and it is An Look. literally no one gets it because it's so obscure, but they look too hot for anyone to care

Rooster is Magnum PI, and everyone rolls their eyes because it's basic at this point--red hawaiian shirt, mustache, sunglasses, Tigers baseball cap--and he does it every year, so it's not like novel but you know what, it works; he pulls every damn time

Payback goes as Tommy Shelby from Peaky Blinders. He uses a truly horrendous accent all night, and keeps leaving the fake cigars over the bar, but he absolutely rocks the look.

Fanboy is the Mandolorian. he paid someone on etsy a truly insane amount of money to 3D print the costume, but he puts it on and is elated--worth every penny. he has to take pictures every thirty seconds with people who are rightfully so v thirsty for pedro pascal, but a lot of people are Into It^tm-- even more so when they realize how handsome Mickey is under the helmet.

Phoenix and Bob went back and forth for a minute--Nick and Judy from Zootopia? Steve and Robin from Stranger Things? Morticia and Gomez from the Addams Family? Luke and Leia from Star Wars? they go through a million ideas but ultimately, they decide on The Emperor's New Groove (inspired by Cost n' Mayor ) -- Bob wears insane eyeliner and full drag as Yzma, and Nat has her guns all the way out, flexing and strutting as Kronk. they win.

#daggers #bradley rooster bradshaw #reuben payback fitch #natasha phoenix trace #javy coyote machado #halloween #jake hangman seresin #mickey fanboy garcia #misskielanswers #misskielrambles #dagger headcanons

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katareyoudrilling · 2 years

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KATAREYOUDRILLING MASTERLIST

Welcome! I’m Kat. Let’s have some fun!

No Minors: My blog is 18+. If you are not, please leave. This is not for you.

I like what I like: Romance. Smut. Feelings. Happy endings. Characters that have lived some life. Pedro Pascal and his characters (it should go without saying). Reader inserts. Original characters. The list goes on...

What to expect if you follow me:

I write one-shots and short series of 1-5k words per post.

I reply to all comments and reblogs of my work because that is what makes us a community! I space them out so they won’t clog up your feed, but I also tag them all “comment reblog” if you would prefer to filter them out.

I LOVE to read! If I read something I like, I will reblog it!

I seem to have carved out a niche for myself with what I am calling “vasectomy kink.” Works that include VK are marked with “✂️” which amuses me to no end.

Send me an ask or DM me anytime! I love to chat!

If you would like to get a notification when I post something new, sign up for my Taglist!

Movies with Marcus (Series, complete) You are assigned a case with Marcus Pike and discover a mutual attraction and love for classic movies

Zero (Drabble) - Marcus shares the results of his vasectomy with you ✂️

Your Assigned FBI Agent is a Secret Freak (Series, complete) co-written with @just-here-for-the-moment - What if Marcus Pike saw your search history?

Shared Document (One-shot) - An accidental cut/paste reveals your secret hobby

All About the Bass (One-shot & Drabble) - What if Marcus played the double bass (not electric) and joined a community orchestra?

Couples Getaway (Series, complete) - Partner swapping adventures with Marcus Pike and Dave York

The Sweepstakes (Series of standalone one-shots) - Feeling down about your dating life, you enter for a chance to win a night with a porn star. Will it be as good as you hope?

Belly Button (Drabble) - Dieter is such a good boy

Laminated (One-shot) - Dieter has the receipts ✂️

I Want to Watch You (Drabble) - Javi helps you with your period cramps

Seen (One-shot) - You’re the last person Javi wants to ask for a favor, but not for the reason you think

Jackpot (One-shot) - You win the online dating lottery when you meet divorced Frankie Morales. ✂️

The Sweepstakes (Series of standalone one-shots) - You are chosen by Frankie as his performer of choice when he wins a contest run by his favorite porn site.

Risk and Risky (2 part series) - You and Dave almost get caught on the couch then Dave keeps his promises. ✂️

Couples Getaway (Series, complete) - Partner swapping adventures with Marcus Pike and Dave York

Oh My Gourd (Drabble) - A gourd reminds you of something

The Sweepstakes (Series of standalone one-shots) - Your favorite porn site runs a contest to win a night with a porn star. Is this your chance to try some new things?

Construction Corner (Series, complete) - Alternate universe where Joel hosts an HGTV show

The Sweepstakes (Series of standalone one-shots) - Your favorite porn site runs a contest to win a night with a porn star. Are you brave enough to claim your prize?

Role-play can be a great way to have fun in the bedroom, but it can also be intimidating! What do I say? What if my partner says the wrong thing and it’s all ruined? A script can help with that! Scripts include instructions for everything your partner needs to plan a fun evening for you (or you for them!). I only have the one so far, but am open to creating more if there’s interest! I hope you give it a try!

Good. Things. Take. Time Role-Play Script (original story by @oonajaeadira)

A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words (Complete)

Summary: 1k word one shots inspired by photos of Pedro Pascal Pairings: Original characters, OMC x OFC Rating: See each work for rating and specific content warnings (18+ only, NO MINORS)

The Rake (Explicit, Who is the mystery man smoking in the ballroom?)

Lockdown (Explicit, A fun surprise arrives in the mail)

Dive (Mature, I can’t stop staring at the rugged stranger across the bar)

Wish (Fluff, A birthday wish comes true)

Reunion (Complete)

Summary: It has been 20 years since Melanie saw her former best friend and high school crush, Andy, when he walks into their high school reunion. (If this story was a movie, Pedro Pascal would play Andy) Pairing: Original characters, OMC Andy x OFC Melanie (enneagram 1 x 6) Word Count: 17k total Rating: Teen/Mature/Explicit. See individual chapters for rating and content warnings (18+ only, NO MINORS)

Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || Chapter 3 || Chapter 4 || Chapter 5 || Chapter 6 || Chapter 7 || Chapter 8 || Chapter 9 || Chapter 10 || Chapter 11 || Chapter 12 || Chapter 13 || Chapter 14

#pedro pascal #original character #masterlist #marcus pike fanfiction #dieter bravo fanfiction #javier peña fanfic #frankie morales fanfic #dave york fanfic

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grrrenadine · 3 years

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Shadow & Bone and Russian Culture

Due to the (unexpected) popularity of my post on Russian naming conventions in Shadow and Bone, I’ve decided to write another post giving some historical/cultural context to the Grishaverse. Specifically, I’m going to talk about keftas, kvas, oprichniki, the tsar-vs-king dichotomy, and Russian calligraphy practices.

Again, this is merely for educational purposes. I just think it’s cool to learn about other cultures! (Quick note: I am Russian, but I’m not a historian by trade, so the text below is mostly surface-level stuff — do correct me if I make fumbles).

1. Kefta. Okay, so the Russian language has these two similar-sounding clothing items (both originate from the same Turkic word):

kofta — this used to just mean “cardigan”, but today it’s an umbrella term for all light long-sleeved clothes except sweaters, jackets and button-down shirts.

Here’s a random Google search for koftas for sale:

kaftan — a type of outer garment (of West/Southwest Asian origin) similar to either a robe or a long suit, anywhere from mid-thigh to floor-length. Styles vary from culture to culture, but it’s generally worn as an overcoat. Still in everyday use in some Asian countries (but not in Russia, where it’s considered a historical clothing item).

Here are some Ivan Bilibin illustrations feat. kaftans:

Here’s Alexander Lemtov (Dan Stevens) rocking a snazzy kaftan-like coat in Eurovision Song Contest: The Story of Fire Saga:

And here’s Oberyn Martell (Pedro Pascal) looking regal in a kaftan on Game of Thrones:

2. Kvas. Not an alcoholic drink! Yes, it’s fermented, but the alcohol content is at around 0.5–1%. This is soy sauce levels of spirits, and kvas is legally classified as non-alcoholic (meaning it can be sold 24/7 and is available to minors). It tastes kinda like kombucha and people drink it as a healthier alternative to soda. It’s also used as an ingredient in a soup called okroshka. I should note that in like ~10th century kvas was indeed a stronger drink and you could get drunk off it.

If you’re writing Slavic-inspired fantasy and you want your characters to get wasted on something other than vodka, here are a few cooler options:

braga — 3–8%, normally sweet, very old-time-y.

zubrowka (aka bison grass liquor) — 40%, herbal vodka liquor. Illegal in the States due to ATF regulations, so you can only buy an ersatz version.

samogon — the Russian word for moonshine.

3. Oprichniki (“outside men”, “aside men”). This was a type of bodyguard corps that existed for a super short period in Russian history during Ivan the Terrible’s reign of terror (16th cent.), and then thankfully never existed again. They were infamous for a “rape, pillage, kill” mentality, cruel public executions, and thinking themselves above the law.

In true Nazgûl fashion, they rode only black stallions. Popular iconography also normally depicts them with brooms and dog heads attached to saddles (the dog heads are not a verified historical fact, but they do make for a pretty striking image). In short, this is a very dark, grim figure — think of a cross between the Spanish Inquisition (there was a religious component to their doctrine) and the SS.

From the 19th century onward, the word has been used metaphorically to mean “government henchmen who enforce excessively repressive measures”. NOT a compliment.

As a bonus, here’s the dog head + broom icon on the covers of Vladimir Sorokin’s The Day of the Oprichnik:

4. Tsar vs king. Olden day Russia consisted of a bazillion duchies, each with its own ruler, known as knyaz (“duke”, “chieftain”, “prince” — translations vary). By the 15th century political power was centralized in the Duchy of Moscow, and Moscow knyaz Ivan III (granddad to Ivan the Terrible) started calling himself tsar, because it sounded cooler. Come 18th century, Peter the Great thought the title “tsar” wasn’t cool enough and became emperor instead. Since then, the rulers of Russia were called emperors; however, “tsar” remained part of the full title and was also used in less formal settings.

Russian has a separate word for king (”korol”), but it’s only used towards monarchs outside of Russia. Here’s the king-vs-tsar dichotomy:

Russian monarchs are called tsars (NEVER kings), and prior to being an Empire, Russia was a tsardom (NOT a kingdom);

in Russian, ancient and/or Biblical kings are also called tsars (”tsar Solomon”, not “King Solomon”);

the word tsar is used metaphorically, e.g. “tsar of the hill”, “tsar of the animals”.

foreign monarchs (e.g. European royals) are kings.

TLDR: king -> kingdom, tsar -> tsardom. It’s an either/or situation.

5. Vyaz. A type of decorative lettering/calligraphy consisting of elongated interlocking letters, historically used for book and chapter titles. The word “vyaz” comes from the verb “vyazat”, meaning “to knit”, so this is basically “knitting with letters”. And much like knitting, it’s meant to form an unbroken ornament, i.e. without spaces between words and ideally without spaces between letters, too.

This style is super old-time-y and was out of use/fashion in the Russian Empire due to low readability.

That’s presumably what Shadow and Bone was trying to go for with this:

It looks nice, but real vyaz normally has tighter interlocking (done either via small letters or decorative elements) in order to eliminate awkward empty spaces, which here are all over the place. For comparison, here’s a real-life historical example, from Acts and Epistles of the Apostles (the first known book to be published in Russian):

Nowadays, vyaz is gaining popularity in the Russian lettering/calligraphy community, because a) it’s pretty culturally specific and b) it looks amazing. Here’s a modern-day example by Andrey Martynov — note the tiny E’s and O’s used for a tighter fit between letters:

And another example, by Vlada Ruzhitskaya — this one relies more on decorative plant-like elements for interlocking:

That’s all for today! I hope you enjoyed this and learned something new.

#russia #shadow and bone #sab #leign bardugo #oprichniki #fire saga #dan stevens #game of thrones #oberyn martell #vyaz #pedro pascal #grishaverse #grisha trilogy #text

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