soddinghelp-blog

[soddinghelp-blog]

Striking Back

1899

Being a news girl who spends her days hawking newspapers on the dirty streets of Manhattan. You barely make enough to scrape by day to day. So, when your paper suppliers Pulitzer and Hurst decide to raise the buying price of newspaper bundles from 40 cents to 50 you decide to join the brewing strikes.

America x reader 

Chapter one.

The sun rose in the smoky hazy sky of Manhattan and Joey was curled up asleep on the steps of an old building. You let out a sigh of relief, you had been searching all night for him.

You gently shook his boney shoulder. Joey blinked open his eyes. “Hey. You have any food?” he asked hopefully. He had large brown eyes and dirty blonde hair. The clothes he wore were dirty and miles too big, Kid Blink’s old clothing that were too small for him. You ran your grimy fingers through tangled hair. You knew the answer was no, you had not a crumb on you. “I’ll... I’ll get you something. Just stay here” you promised.

Joey nodded dumbly and was asleep again. You rose unsteadily to your feet. You patted your pocket; you took comfort as you felt the shape of the rusty penknife against your palm. If you were lucky, you wouldn’t need to use it.

Ever since the strike started. You had no income, not a penny in your pocket for food or board. And as you said to Kid Blink last night. “If we don’t win this strike real soon, we all starve.” Kid Blink looked you, his face hardened. “Beg, borrow, steal. If we yield to this price hike we definitely will starve” You knew at 60 cents a bundle you need to sell 100 papers per day just to break even.

You had been pacing the streets for a while now, looking for a good target. Someone rich looking, someone who was naive enough to not flee at the sight of your grungy appearance. Someone-

Your ears pricked up as you heard a cheerful whistle, you turned to see a man striding along, dressed to the nines in Vicuña Wool and Japanese denim. He was swinging a Harrods bag.

Someone... like that...

He had a young face, a happy face, a face that looked like it had never seen hardship. Cheerful blue eyes framed with gold rimmed glasses. Oh yeah, this guy was a trust fund boy.

You eyed the Harrods bag. Whatever was in there could be sold and the money could buy some desperately needed bread. Your hand drifted down to your pocket, where the knife was. You weren’t gonna actually hurt the guy, just scare him. Still robbing people, even rich trust fund boys seemed wrong.

Joey’s gaunt face flashed through your mind, that put any hesitation out of your mind.

You stepped into his path, flicking out the blade, sunlight glinting off its wickedly sharp edge. “Hey. Nothing personal, just give me the bag” you said flatly. The carefree look had now fled his face replaced with startled confusion. It was only then you saw he was reaching for the gun holstered on his side, concealed under his jacket. You panicked. Throwing yourself forward onto him. You didn’t mean to, but your weight had driven the knife into his stomach. Taking advantage of his pain and shock you grabbed the Harrods bag with bloodied hands and scrambled to your feet.

---------  

You and Joey were sharing a fresh loaf of French bread in the alley when Kid Blink showed up. Kid Blink was a rough looking guy, all scarred up, with hard marble like blue eyes and brown hair that was chopped haphazardly. He wore an eye patch over one eye, he never spoke of how he lost his eye. Kid Blink face of the strike, the guy you don’t want to cross. He took one look at the fresh bread and said, “Who did you rob and what did you take?” his tone was steel, his glare was accusatory. It took a lot to of effort not to flinch away from that unforgiving gaze.

You shrugged trying to seem casual. “Some rich guy. Glasses, blue eyes, blonde hair. Probably six foot” You ignored the second part of the question. Kid Blink didn’t need to know everything.

He shoved you backwards, sending you stumbling. “YOU IDIOT. You robbed Pulitzer and Hurst’s top investor. Alfred Jones…” for a moment he seemed too furious to speak. “If he’s seen your face and knows you’re with the strike then You’ve just doomed us all.”

It was your turn to get angry. “ME?! I’m not the one drenching paper stands that don’t support us and burning delivery carts! YOU THINK HURST AND PULTIZER WILL BE HAPPY WITH THAT?!” you roared back, sauntering close to Kid Blink. Joey was watching both of you nervously, cheeks stuff with bread. “At least I didn’t STAB THE TOP INVESTOR” Kid Blink snapped. He then snatched the half-eaten bread out of your hands and stuffed it into his mouth. You sat down on an overturned crate.

“If you are right, and this guy was Jones.” You said slowly “He was the who suggested the price hike. He was never gonna be on our side to begin with….in fact… You should be thanking me for stabbing that sonvabitch”. Kid Blink rolled his eyes. “This isn’t the time for wise cracks. Still, we’ll see how this whole thing plays out in the press. Before we make any moves”

You startled, feeling confused. “Press?”

“Oh yeah, I can see the headline now “innocent man attacked by gutter rat””. He said smirking. You took off one shoe and hurled it at his head, Kid Blink ducked as it the wall behind him with a clack, “this gutter rat has given you dinner you stupid sot!” you shot back.

If there is demand this can be turned into a series.

[soddinghelp-blog]

Brands of War Crimes

1915

"It's the war to end all wars. Nothing like this has been seen before or since and it's not just people who will die"

You're a volunteer nurse near the front lines with a strange patient in your care who has an even stranger brother.

When a letter turns up from an old friend, you have to make a choice to make.

Canda x reader

... 

Chapter one 

The boy in the bed lay so still that anyone would like he was dead. However, you knew he wasn’t dead. He was only one who was still alive. You strode through the church-turned- emergency -hospital, towards his bed where he was tucked away in one of the lesser used cloisters. On the table next to his bed were various glass bottles of medication. The boy wore a heavy linin bandage over his eyes. It was the same colour as the shirt he wore. You reached out to wake your patient, but Mathew always seemed to be awake before you got there. Without asking he opened his mouth for you. He always seemed to know what you wanted without ever asking.

You peered into his mouth and visibly cringed, it took all of your effort to not recoil and cringe away at the sight of the white hardened blisters that lined his cheeks, tongue, roof of his mouth and how the disappeared down the back of his throat and most likely into his lungs. You had treated other soldiers in this ward with the same painful blistering, all of which had perished. Luckily you had ripped off his gas-soaked heavy brown woolen uniform when he arrived at the hospital before blisters could appear on the rest of his body. Unfortunately holding the garments caused white blisters to bloom all over your palms, which you had gotten bandaged up.

“I don’t know how you haven’t died yet” You muttered.

“I wish I could die” he murmured very softly.

You must have misheard him.

“Can I feel your face?” he asked very softly. You stumbled for half a heartbeat before saying

“I need to change your bandage” You noted in that moment how long his dirty blonde hair had gotten in the past few weeks he had been here.  

You reached out your hands, touching the fabric that was soaked in sodium hypochlorite the same stuff your own bandages were soaked in.

His cold fingers brushed against your wrists. “Please?” this time you paused for more than half a heartbeat before wordlessly guided his hands up to your face. Allowing him to brush his fingertips over your cheekbones, then your lips. You struggled to keep breathing even as you closed your eyes so he could run his thumbs lightly over your eyelids, before reaching higher to touch your hairline. He moved a hand down to cup your cheek-

“Hi, I’m looking for-OH MY GOD MATHEW”

You jumped up and spun around. You instinctively hid your patient behind you as you saw a boy in a foreign uniform you had never seen before approach, heavy combat boots echoing in the stone hall. “Oh my god! His eyes! MATHEW ARE YOU OK?! WHAT HAPPENED?!” you winced at his incessant yelling.

“it was a gas attack-“you tried to explain.

“A WHAT?!” You swallowed thickly, wondering if a rogue solider delirious with shellshock and somehow managed to wonder in, uninvited. You licked your lips nervously.

“Sir... you-you need to calm down or leave-“You started.

“It’s ok (Y/N) this is my brother. Alfred Jones” Mathew said gently.

You peered suspiciously up at the boy and did see a resemblance in the ash blonde hair and facial structure. You wondered if Mathew’s eyes were also sky blue.

“Alfred, this is my nurse (Y/N) (L/N). She’s been such an angle to me”

You felt your cheeks flush, turning away quickly so Alfred wouldn’t see it. “What gas attack.” Alfred asked again in a much calmer tone. “The one last month… the Germans... we think it was chlorine- “

“GERMANY DID THIS?!”

“Alfred please” Mathew said feebly. “(Y/N), please may I speak to my brother alone?”

You glanced uncertainly at your patient. “Are you sure you should be talking so much? Your mouth blisters- “

“MOUTH BLSITERS?!”

“If you shriek one more time, I will throw you out” you snapped japing a finger into his chest. You saw his lips twitch into a small smirk before he raised his hands in mock surrender. You rolled your eyes before sweeping out of the cloister, closing the door behind you. Yet you couldn’t help but press your ear against it.

“I don’t want to do this anymore, America.” You heard Mathew say sounding older and more tired than ever. “All of these politics... all this horrendous death and destruction in the name of power….. I’m done with it… I want to be normal. I want to settle down with a nice girl like (Y/N), live on a farm. Have my own sons and daughters”

There was a brief moment of silence before Alfred’s harsh laughter echoed through the arched cloister roofs

“What? You’ve never wanted that?” Mathew demanded defensively.

“More than anything, Canada. But you know we can’t. We aren’t mortal. I’m not even sure if we can have children. Though I’d love to pull up (Y/N)’s skirt and-”. You stopped listening when you noticed a letter on the floor, no address, no stamps, just your name written on the front. You hesitantly picked it up, breaking the plain seal and your eyes widened as you read the content.

That’s when you heard a loud crack and the shattering of glass from inside the ward.

-----

If there is demand, I can turn this into a fully-fledged story.

[soddinghelp-blog]

Hey. So I’ve been gone a while. But I’ve had a lot going on.

I’m a horse rider. I’ve been riding for 16 years. Very recently (last week), I got a new horse. He’s a lippinazzer called Allegra (a-lee-gra). So I’ve been under a huge amount of pressure, there are a lot of eyes on me. I have to make it work and make it perfect. I do dressage. There’s 6 levels. Im on level 5. Its highly pressurised and intense.

[soddinghelp-blog]

“I had a dream everyone was dead”

There was a knock on your door in the middle of the night. You murmured something in your sleepy state as you rolled over. The bedroom door  opened. A wedge of candle light from the corridor door spilt into the room. “Mama.. I had a bad dream.” It was Alexi in his pyjamas. You sat up in bed. “I dreamt that everyone was dead. Mama, papa, my sisters, you. Even me.” He choked back a sob.

“Can-can I sleep here?” he asked softly. In response, You pulled back your covers. He crawled into your bed.

You cradled the boy. Rocking him gently, stroking his hair. “I don’t want anyone to die ever.” he whimpered. You asked “Do I look dead to you?”

He glanced up at you. His face was tear-stained. He shook his head.

“I don’t want to die. Ever. Being dead means being alone”

You hugged him closer.

“I’ll never leave you alone. I’ll be right here always”

You sat bolt upright an unfamiliar bed, awake from the dream. “Alexi?” you cried out into the dark air. Then you remembered.

Alexi is dead.

[soddinghelp-blog]

Chapter 7 A circus

1917

“Is he going to die?” Your voice was hoarse. You gripped Rasputin’s arm. The fabric of his old semi rotten coat felt course underneath your fingers. He glared at your with his crow-like beady eyes.

Alexi had been bleeding badly again. Rasputin had been with him 3 quarters of the night only coming out of the little prince’s room to demand fresh bandages. You had been locked out of the prince’s rooms on his orders.  

“Please” You said desperately. “I can see It in your eyes. Is my boy going to die?”

Rasputin eyes softened, a rarity for him. “He won’t die today”

You felt like a giant weight had been taken off your chest.

“And.. and.. is.. “ You drew in a shaky breath. “Is Ivan going to die?”

He glanced around nervously, before you pulling into a nearby study.

“We hang on by our fingernails.” He said as soon as the door was closed “The war is the least of our problems. But what’s more concerning is what’s happening in the cities. The peasants.. they revolt in greater numbers every single day, nursemaid. Attacking the city guards, looting and rioting. A man: Vladimir Lenin is stirring up greater and greater trouble for us all. Three guards were found. Slaughtered at their posts last night. “Long live the revolution” was written out in the snow besides their bodies. “

Your eyes widened , but before you got respond. Rasputin rushed on. “I found correspondence from Lenin and some other man who calls himself Stalin in Ivan’s private study. Mark my words, nursemaid. He is planning something terrible.”

“Who-“

“Stalin, Ivan, Lenin. All of them. I’m not sure what yet.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. Unsure what to make of all this.

“If you have any sense you will get out of this wretched country before it’s too late” Rasputin said gravely

“But Alexei, the princesses, I cannot leave them.” You protested

“They will be dead soon. They will not survive this and neither will we at this point”

There was an eerie silence in the study after that grim prediction. You stared out the window gazing out across the snowy court yard below.

“Even so, I cannot leave Ivan”  You said softly.

“We are rats on a sinking ship, nursemaid. Do you wish to drown for a man who doesn’t love you?”

You shook your head, not wanting to hear more of this. And opened the door, It was Olga. She was white faced. She had heard everything. Literally .. everything. She looked at both of you before she uttered a sob and fled. You rushed after her. Your talk with Rasputin had been utterly treasonous. We all know the penalty for treason.

You gripped Olga’s trembling arms. You looked into her brown eyes.

“The people are hungry” you blurted out as soon as you could.

“But why are they hungry?” She sounded bewildered. You sucked in a breath. How could you explain the deadly turmoil that was her country right now? “Princess. We cannot grow any food. We have to important it all”. She looked confused still. So you went on slowly.

“We haven’t any money to buy grain for the masses. They are starving.” She stared at you blankly. “A man called Lenin. Promised.. the people “peace, land, bread and…a…a circus”

‘So. we can’t get those things ourselves?”

You cast your eyes down, looking at her satin sleeves. This girl was a princess trained in the arts of being dainty and delicate. She knew how to sew and dance. She knew nothing of politics, warfare or finances.

“What’s a circus got to do with anything anyway?”

Ivan had once told you that “circus” was Russian military code for mass execution. You didn’t say a word. But she knew something was wrong from your expression.

She suddenly threw her arms around you. She was shaking like a leaf. “Oh (Y/N) I’m so scared”. So were you.

“Nothing will happen to you. Or your sisters. Or Alexei. It will all be fine. Ivan loves you all like his own family.” You were lying. Trying to protect an overly sheltered princess whose only ever known golden halls from the harsh reality of her crumbling country.

She pulled back. She seemed as uncertain as ever. “Really? Well you seem to know so much about these matters… Are you sure everything will be alright?”

“Yes”

----

“Guess what? Your beloved Ivan slaughtered the entire royal family in some basement. ”

It was a month later that Alfred would cheerfully slap down the telegram that he had received from the bolshevik party.

You spun around to look at him. He looked smug and triumphant. You on the other hand had gone numb with shock, your insides like ice water.

“what?” you said stupidly.

They were all dead.

“What” you repeated

Olga and her sisters all dead.

Alfred went on as if you hadn’t spoken. “If I hadn’t rescued you”

Alexi is-“You also would have been butchered. By your own beloved”.

Without thinking you took the heavy crystal whisky holder off of the nearby table and hurled out at his head. He ducked in time. There was a loud smash as it collided with the backwall.

“GET OUT” you screamed. Alfred wisely chose to not stick around.

You knotted your hands into your hair. You struggled to process what you had just heard.

-dead

You saw a flash of blonde out of the corner of your eye. You swung around, blindly striking out.

A hand caught your wrist. “Calm down. I’m not Alfred” said a soft voice.

It was like staring at a picture of Alfred with deliberate mistakes made. Longer, wavier hair, darker and sadder eyes, paler skin. He wore the exact same suit as Alfred.

“Who… who.. are.. you “ you  wretched your hand out of the intruder’s grip.

“I’m ..” he shrugged awkwardly. “Canada”.

You closed your eyes and exhaled sharply. You really didn’t want to see another personification. In fact, you’d be happy to never see one ever again.

“Get out” You were emotionally shattered, carrying an unwanted child, being held prisoner by a unhinged man and had no idea where your only wanted child was, you had no time for manners these days. “Get the fuck out. Now”

He held up his hands and took a step back to show he wasn’t a threat.

“I can help you, (Y/N).”

“How do you know my name?”

He laughed nervously, avoiding your harsh glare. Pushing his glasses up.

“Who doesn’t know your name these days? You’re pretty famous. In fact, you were the main discussion point at the last summit.” He laughed again, sounding more nervous. “The arguments you caused.. uh got pretty heated..“

You frowned.

“It’s not you that’s caused the commotion. Its.. the-the child you’re carrying”

“Not Delilah?”

“Well. Delilah is the child of a dying empire. She’s no threat”

Threat?

“This baby is the child of a superpower.” Something in his tone changed. It went flat and flinty. “I’ve been over shadowed my entire life. Now.. now I’m being overshadowed by a-a baby whose not even born”

He reached into his jacket and pulled out a revolver.

There was a bang and everything went black  

[soddinghelp-blog]

Chapter 6. New kid

Few notes.

I'm not stopping the story.

I'm back to writing. I've written a fair portion of chapters 10,11,12.

I'm wondering how evil Alfred should be.

A new character has been sketched out and newer characters are being sketched. This will take time.

Let me know if you want to see this finished.

Headsup. Graphic murder, gore.

1911. 

You’ll never forget how the midwife screamed when she saw Delilah. 

“That is no baby! That’s a demon you’ve birthed!” She shrieked hysterically. Her brown eyes wide with fear. Face pale with terror. 

She practically tossed the new born at you. Delilah was howling. Chubby fists flailing. 

“If you have any sense you will send that thing back to hell!” She cried. 

That’s not exactly what you wanted to hear after a gruelling 8 hours in labour. 

The woman turned to flee the room. And she crashed right into the hulking frame of Ivan. He was so tall he had to dunk under the doorframe as he came in. 

He looked slightly upset. “You called my daughter a demon?” 

Without even waiting for a response. Ivan grabbed the midwife’s head in one giant hand. 

You winced as the midwife’s screams became more and more francitc until the wet crunch silenced them, her body sagged Ivan’s hand. 

Blood seeping down. Onto the floor. Liquefied brain matter leaking out of the dead woman’s ears. 

Your mouth was gaped open in utter horror.  As he causally threw down the body. 

he held out his bloodied hands. “May I see my daughter?”

You were very hesitant to hand over your fragile new born. Especially given how she looked. You swallowed thickly your throat was sandpaper, you pulled the swaddling clothes over her face. “Your hands.. are dirty” you hoarsely whispered. 

He frowned glancing down at his huge hands as if only now noticing the thick globs of white brain matter and dark blood. 

“Ah” he hummed. Before wiping the disgusting waste onto his brown jacket. Bile rose in your throat 

He held out his slightly cleaner hands, small smile on his face. 

“She wants to be fed” You said pulling down the wide collar of your gown, allowing your hungry new-born access to your nipple. 

Ivan stared at you utterly confused. “How do you feed a baby using your breast?”

You exhaled silently. Closing your eyes. Realising that Ivan was the worst man to be a father. 

1917. 

How wrong you were. You ruefully thought as you sat on your large bed, watching the sunset through the window. It cast long dark orange rays through the garden below like fingers. You ran your hand lightly over your swollen stomach. Silently contemplating the four story drop and how you would possibly climb down the wall with a 7 months pregnant belly. 

 There was a man out there even worse than Ivan in every way. With an even stronger desire to be a father. Driven purely by jealousy, competitiveness and spark of humanity. 

The door to your suite that was usually locked from the outside, banged open so suddenly that you jumped up fright. 

“HEY! How’s my beautiful (Y/N) and my baby?!” Alfred yelled excitedly.

You glared at him. Alfred was grinning stupidly at you. More accurately he was grinning at your belly. He had shed his black blazer in the door way and was yanking loose his tie Loose. You self-consciously covered with your hands your belly. Glad the bed was between you and him. 

“I swear to god. If you have hurt Delilah. If you have so much as touched a hair on her head. I will tear out your eyes” You snarled.  

“Shesh.” Laughed Alfred, non plussed by your threat. He tossed aside his tie. “Those hormones are really outta whack”. 

“I want to see my daughter” you growled. Balling your fists over your stomach. Alfred was entirely unaffected by your hostility. He unbuttoned the collar of his shirt. He looked at your stomach again. Mega-watt smile. Blue eyes savouring the sight. 

“Why? You … we have a new kid on the way!” 

Oh how did you get into this situation? 

[soddinghelp-blog]

This is really hard for me to write.

Its really hard for me to be this honest.

Ok. So i owe you guys an explanation as to why I’ve gone quite. I have the chapter started. But.. these things I write about. A physically aggressive man. Alfred pinning down roughly and mouth snarling, Ivan grabbing the jaw hard. These things aren’t fiction. These are things that I deal with. Because there is a man called Micheal in my life. I dont love him. Im not with him. He forced his way into my life. He is extremely demanding and dominating. Possessive and easily jealous. He is 30 and i am 21. He is much stronger than me. He looks like alfred. Like 2p america. He calls me dolly. And only uses my real name when he is angry

He doesnt hit me but he will grab my jaw hard. “Look at me now”

He did this this morning. A few hours ago.

He pinned me down and grabbed my neck.

“You are mine” he says with his lips curled back in a snarl. (Are you seeing the parallel to alfred attacking the reader in the library?)

And I’ll just nod to placate him enough to make him get off

Then he squeezed my neck lightly.

“Say it”

I shook my head

“Please I dont want to”

He shakes my neck, my head lifted and slammed against the floor

“Say. It. Dolly”

“Im yours”

He never listens to me, bulldozes over everything i say no matter what

“Dolly you dont mean that”

“Please stop being so mean to me”

“You SAY you dont like me being mean. But I know what you really want”

“No please I really want you to stop”

“Thats just what youre saying. You dont mean it”

“I think I’m gonna cry”

“I dont believe you”

“I know whats best for you”

Yes. He has forced himself on me sexually.

I dont want to talk about that.

In the last week he has ramped up his aggressive behaviour. Calling me “his slave” when I never consented to be one sexually or otherwise. I have said many times “please stop calling me that. I dont want to be a slave. I dont like it”

“Too bad. You’re MY slave. I own you. Whether you like it or not doesnt bother me. “

He forces me to do things for him. Sometimes. Not always. Cleaning etc.

This is something that happened recently

“Why havent you done the dishes like i ordered you to dolly?” Micheal asks. I look away. More than a little afraid. “I’m not a slave Micheal. You can do your own dishes”

He suddenly slams my face into the wall, pinning it there with a hand. “We’ve been over this many times. (my real name here). You are my slave. You. Do. What. You. Are. Told” he slaps me lightly with each word. It hurts enough to make me flinch. “Maybe you just enjoy making me angry and me breaking you.” At this point I’m ready to cry but I’m not crying yet. “No. I really dont like this. I never consented to being a slave. So being owned. I really dont like it.”

Things got sexually messy after that. I dont want to talk about that part.

If i try to leave he grabs my hair or my jaw or my neck or my arm (if Im lucky its my arm) and he forces me back.

Its been like this for years. This is where I’m at.

I’ve got someone very much like alfred treating me like.. like that.. this is really hard to write.

Like alfred he is very charming with a megawatt smile. But then he can turn so angry and aggressive.

He would never try to kill me. That would involve him having to let his “slave” go.

I write what I know.

[soddinghelp-blog]

Chapter 5 A viper to kill us all

6 years earlier. 1911.

London

Given Russia was at least 200 years behind the west. He always felt a sense of envy at the progress of the west. With the rapid growth of industry and urbanization. While he was still an agricultural based country.. The meeting was a fruitless discussion of the growing tensions in Europe between the west and east.  America grew bored with this Europe centred discussion. And quickly started to boast of his latest invention that he has lined up for mass production.  “I have something. You all will never have. A true miracle.” Ivan spat spitefully. Arthur scoffed. “Oh? And what’s that? A faster way to make vodka?”

“A way to dig food out of that barren land of yours?” America sneered

Ivan smirked.  “I am about to become a father”

..

Present day

1917

“They all knew about her?!” You cried.

“I lied and said you were dead. Died in childbirth. But I should have known at least one of those idiots would come sniffing around”

You gaped at him. Ivan. A country so calculating and wise. How could he make such a foolish mistake? You almost paid the price for his bragging with your life  

His head hung low in shame. His hands clasped together as if in prayer.

“Alfred will carry the news of you back to Wilson, back to the world” Ivan muttered lowly.

You rubbed your aching head. Trying to process all this information. “Wait.. Alfred .. got away?”

Ivan looked at you lilac eyes shining with guilt and shame.

“I was in such pain when I woke up. I saw Alfred standing over you with the knife. I yelled as loudly as I could for the guards. He got spooked and.. and..” he clasped your hand. “I was too weak to go after him” Ivan’s voice was thickened with shame. You wanted to comfort him. But what could you say?

“(Y/N) I am an old man now, I am not the empire I once was. I am loosing the war. Alfred…” Ivan suddenly dropped your hands. He stood up, turning his back to you. “Alfred was… is a child .. born when the rest of us were old. He is dangerously strong. While the rest of us are licking our war wounds. He will only get stronger and stronger. And we cannot stop him. Even his twin brother watches on, utterly helpless. Wilson is nursing a viper. Who will kill us all.”

You realised you had tears in your eyes. You had gone cold all over. You had never heard Ivan speak with such grave clarity. It frightened you badly. “Now I had… something he never had … a baby.. “

“It’s strange isn’t it…?” Ivan let out a brittle laugh. “ America has everything a country could ever have. A rich economy, citizens who adore him, the strongest military in the world, vast lands and resources. But Alfred doesn’t have what he wants… a child. Even though Delilah has been dead for years. He never forgot. It’s a disgrace how painfully human we can be sometimes”

You realised with a cold dread what this meant. Alfred was out to get you. You survived this encounter by sheer luck. But he will be back.

Ivan cupped your face as gently as he could. His eyes looked a thousand lifetimes old

“(Y/N). I cannot protect you. ”

[soddinghelp-blog]

Chapter 4 Russian Bear

‘”Delilah .. is .. dead” you rasped out. Alfred grinned viciously. White teeth glowing in the dim “I don’t think so…” he hissed. “Where are you hiding her?” despite the chill of the late night, you felt sweat bead on your forehead. “She has been dead for six years” Your voice came out thin and wobbly. Riddled with fear. You could smell liquor on his breath. Rancid. Alfred was capable of anything in this moment. Alfred’s tongue flicked briefly over his teeth

“if I slice open your throat, will I find the truth inside?”

FA-TUNG

Several things happened at once. Alfred was thrown off of you. You shrieked in pain as Alfred’s knife sliced into your collarbone in the process. Then you were staring up at the vulture like figure above you. You gaped at him, despite the stinging pain of your new cut. Rasputin clutched a heavy iron fire poker in his claw-like hands. Alfred was on his side, groaning in pain. His back to you. Blood matted his blonde hair. “Leave now nursemaid” Rasputin growled. He practically yanked you to your feet. You swayed unsteadily. Warm blood leaking into your dress’s collar

“Ras-“

“GO NOW. These freaks never stays down for long. RUN ”

You rushed down the hall way.

You burst into the nearest room. Frantically looking for a hiding spot. It was Ivan’s study.

Ivan himself was doubled over in pain the front of his coat was stained red, his face twisted up in agony. You gaped in shock.

“The war… isn’t going well” he grimaced in pain.

When he looked up at you, showed intense concern. It shone in his indigo eyes. “You’re hurt”. You blinked at him. You had practically forgotten about the cut. A shallow cut was nothing compared to what happened to him. You gestured at his darkening jacket.

“You need a doctor”

“No” He snapped

He fell onto the floor, like a giant felled tree. You jumped back in fright.

“Whatever is happening on the front… its bad” he grunted. Clutching his side. You knew little about the war raging in Europe. Only that Ivan resented being dragged into it. You knew his military was weak and outdated compared to other European countries. Yet the Tsar leapt into the fray recklessly to help Serbia.

“Ivan? Ivan?!” Your voice became shrill with fear. You knelt beside him. All the arguments and bruising he had caused suddenly didn’t matter at all.

“The Russian bear has fallen.” Followed by an obnoxious laugh. Your blood ran cold.

Alfred stood in the doorway. Looking every inch a nightmare. Most of his blonde hair had gone into a matted red mess. The red made an ugly contrast with his vicious blue eyes.  When he grinned, his perfect white teeth were stained with blood. Most of the glass was missing from his glasses. The long thin sliver blade he had sliced you with glinted menacingly. You hoped Rasputin was still breathing.. where ever he was.

“I should just save Wilson the trouble and gut you both now, then hunt down Delilah” He sneered.

Suddenly you were filled with an unbridled fury. This.. this cocksure arrogant upstart comes into YOUR home, attacks YOU, demands to know about YOUR private matters.  Now he threatens YOUR man and… Delilah.

You flew at him. Arms outstretched. Hands ready to claw those pretty blue eyes out. Alfred was way WAY stronger than you. But the element of surprise was on your side. You knocked the knife from his hand. Shoving him down hard. Crying out in fury. “GO BACK TO WHERE YOU CAME FROM YOU YANKEE PIECE OF SHIT”

Unfortunately the surprise wore off pretty quickly, Alfred grabbed your head and slammed it hard into the ground.

Then everything went black.

…

“Delilah?” you gasped out as you woke up. You were in your tiny plainly furnished room, in the servants’ quarters. “Only me” The gruff voice startled you. Ivan was hunched over your bedside. Looking comically large in the tiny room. His head probably could have touched the lamp on the ceiling. Ivan gave you a weary smile. He had your doll-like hand in his large ones. Tenderly stroking your knuckles. He was wearing a new black jacket. There was no sign he was ever injured in the first place. You on the other hand, had a thick white bandage over your collarbone. And a large robin egg shaped bruise on your head. It felt like an elephant had stomped on your head.

“You are one gorgeous, crazy woman” he murmured.

You flushed the colour of brick. Letting out a startled “what”. He looked up at you, in a rare state of amusement . “I said you are one crazy woman” You were still bright red. But you kept your mouth shut. Your head ached too badly to start flirting or playing coy. You merely squeezed his hand.

Ivan turned serious again. Much more familiar. “He could have killed you” . You shook your head, despite the pain it caused. “He wouldn’t have.” You withdrew your hand away. “He wanted to know if Delilah was still alive”

You heaved a slight sob, lifting a hand to cover your eyes.  “H-how does he even know about her?” Your voice was catching towards the end.

Now Russia looked guilty. “I’m.. sorry. My foolish bragging about Delilah put you in danger”

[soddinghelp-blog]

Chapter 3 A snake with blue eyes.

“Is Delilah also dead? Or did you lie about that too?” Alfred demanded, blue eyes burning accusingly, as he exhaled smoke sharply. For a moment there was a thick silence. Just the soft snick of the tinder box has Ivan light his own cigarette. They were both standing in Ivan’s private study. The air was cloudy with smoke.

“Why wouldn’t she be dead?” he replied neutrally. “DAMNIT RUSSIA” Alfred suddenly snapped. There was a loud bang suddenly as he slammed his fist into the polished oak desk, leaving cracks. And sending ornaments rattling “This…this isn’t some fucking game. So cut the stony act. I’m not one of your.. human lackies” Ivan was totally unfazed by this sudden flare of anger. He said nothing. He wasn’t about to be intimated by a mere child on his own home terf.

Alfred crushed his cigarette in the glass ashtray. “If you’re so tight lipped about it. I’ll just go ask (Y/N)”

Ivan reached out quick as a viper and grabbed Alfred’s shoulder, “you will do nothing of the sort” he growled. “you have some nerve. Arriving here a week early. Throwing tantrums, making demands in my house, talking to my woman-“

America wrenched himself out of Ivan’s grip. And sneered petulantly. “Wait. Your woman? “ Alfred barked a harsh laugh. “You aren’t exactly friendly to her. Don’t think I missed those bruises on her jaw”

“Personal matters” was all Ivan mattered gruffly.

Alfred gave him a toothy grin. “Russia. It’s my business to know everyone else’s business as Wilson likes to tell me”

……..

“I’m a Tsar! You can’t make me eat my peas!” Alexi cried. It was dinner time in the grand hall. The long oak table was covered with exotic foods in glided gold dishes imported from Asia and Europe. No food ever grew in Russia. That was a problem the Tsar refused to discuss, despite how many time Ivan tried to bring it up.

“Little tsars who don’t eat their peas don’t get chocolate “ you countered. Wagging your spoon slightly at him His mouth dropped open in shock. You clearly had stumped him with that revelation.

Further down the table, the guest of honour, America was enthralling the princesses, who were clearly fascinated by this new exciting personification. You on the other hand had dealt with Ivan and his troubles for more than half a decade, refused to show intertest in another one of these.. countries  

“America?” Anastasia said in awe.

“As in… the continents?” Tatiana asked.

“Does that mean there are two of you?” Olga asked dreamily.

Ivan sat across the table silently fuming. His plate was empty. You had never seen him eat anything before.

“Ladies. You flatter me “ Alfred flashed his mega white smile. Clearly enjoying all the attention the princesses were lavishing on him. His plate was stacked high with all sorts of meats and jellies and other strange delicacies. He was on his third plate.

You were to preoccupied with getting your tiny Tsar to eat his greens to really listen. You took a sip of white wine.

“-really? So how do you know (Y/N)?” Tatiana asked. Oh that caught your attention.

You hadn’t had moment to ask the stranger about what he had said earlier.

The second after Alfred declared you back from the dead, the morning bell rang signalling the start of the working day. He refused to talk about it once the other servants spilled into the court yard. You really had not seen him since.

Before Alfred could respond, “Mister, You’re very funny looking. Kinda like an owl”. Alexi pointed in a matter-of-fact-way. Staring at his thick coke bottle glasses. Ignoring his food despite your best efforts. You snorted hard into your wine glass, chocking on laughter and white wine. “Mama. Why does he look like an owl?” You snickered, trying to cover it up with coughing. Olga and Anastasia also pressing hands to their months to smother their laughter.

“Why do you wear glasses?” Olga asked

He laughed again. “Now. That’s a hellva story! My brother back in 1812-“

Olga: “You have a brother?”

Tatiana: “Does he look like you?”

Alfred grinned smugly. “He’s my twin”

Maria: “So there is two of you”

The trio of princesses sighed dreamily.

Alexi made a disgusted face and muttered something about girls being gross. For once, you kinda agreed.

.........

You frowned and opened the note. That you had found pinned to your door, in the servants quarters after dinner.

Meet me in the library. We need to talk about Delilah

-Ivan

You opened the heavy oak door, peering into the gloom you could make out the vague shapes of chairs and huge book shelves. Where was-The wind was knocked out of you as you crashed into the stone tiles. Something painfully sharp was at your throat.

“If you scream I’ll slit your throat”.

The golden hair and the blue eyes seemed to glow slightly in the gloom above you.

Except Alfred had lost that charming smile he wore all evening at dinner, his mouth was now curled into a snarl.

With that ruthless glint in his eye. But there was also something else, desperation.

You were convinced he just might do it. He pressed the knife hard into the soft skin of your throat. You chocked out a hoarse whisper. “You snake”

“Ha, I’ve been called worse darling” he gripped your hair hard.

“Tell me about Delilah”

[soddinghelp-blog]

I don’t know how many people will enjoy this type of slow burn, long haul, historical books. I know a lot of people enjoy the short text x reader posts. For me that wasn’t very satisfying to read. But to develop characters, storylines etc. It takes a lot of writing and rewriting and re-rewriting. Thats why there is such a gap between chapters. But saying that. I have so many ideas. I could easily write 30 plus chapters.... 

[soddinghelp-blog]

Chapter two Ox Blood Black

“Were you lovers?” Olga asked in a low  conspiratorial tone, glancing up from her embroidery work. A small grin on her face. Both her and her sister sat on opposite sides of the heavy oak table, working on a large tapestry.

Gossip spread around the palace quickly of Ivan and your little spat. Setting tongues eagerly wagging over the whole affair. So of course the eldest princess was keen for details.

You flushed pink. “Your highness-“

“Oh did you lie with him.. as a man lies with his wife?” Olga’s eyes glittered mischievously.

“YOUR HIGHENESS!” You cried, utterly mortified. Grateful Alexi was asleep doors down the hall. You had gone from pink to red very quickly now.

“I bet he’s got the largest manhood ever” Olga giggled. Maria rose from her side of the table. Sweeping over to the evening suit you had just mended for the Tsar. In one graceful movement she swept the black suit off the coat hanger, she hugged it close, embracing it as one would a lover. “Oh…oh…oh Ivan!” she cried in mock ecstasy. “Faster!.. oh yes!” Before both princesses almost fell over in laughter.

“Sorry to interrupt” came a cold voice.

Ivan’s huge frame filled the entire door way, he stared at his princesses with a stony yet subtle anger. An anger you knew all too well. Unconsciously your hand went up to your face. Where he had slapped you earlier. Although there were rumours he could do so much worse. There was a rumour of how Ivan crushed a man’s skull in with one hand.

Now you felt as though you would die from embarrassment. He turned his lilac gaze on you. The stony expression still there. There was now dead silence in the room, the only sound being Maria and Olga trying to smother their giggles.

“The prince has woken up. Another of his cuts have opened.”  His voice cut sharply through the still air.

You shakily rose from your seat. Holding your head high in an attempt to keep some dignity. Which was hard to do when Maria and Olga wouldn’t stop giggling like school girls. You hope your face wasn’t as red as it felt. He stood dead still only his eyes followed your movements.

“I didn’t say a word against you” you huffed as you passed him in the doorway. “So stop looking at me like that”

He rolled his violet eyes. “Get out of my sight” he grunted.

You paused. Suddenly feeling concern for the princesses. Even if they saw it as a harmless joke. Ivan would not see it as such. You grabbed his elbow. “Please. Don’t hurt th-“

Ivan grabbed your jaw painfully hard. One flick of his wrist would have wretched it out of its socket. You squeezed your eyes shut in pain.

“I said… go”

----

You recognised the shaggy black beard, wild unkept hair and bird-like grey eyes. The figure hunched over the prince’s bed like a Moulting vulture

“Rasputin” You set your jaw. “What a surprise.”

There was a tin bucket on the floor beside the bed in it were serval rags sodden black with Alexi’s blood.

“The nurse maid.” In the years that Rasputin had been there. He had never bothered with your name.

“Mama!”

You ignored the thick smell of blood and the vulture man and knelt down next to his bed. Alexi was bone white, sweaty.  He looked so fragile..

You looked at the cut on his shoulder. A small cut from a brunch whilst riding a week back. You watched as more blackened blood welled up. Blood was supposed to be red but in the candle light it was ox blood black.

On the sheets it was ox black

On your fingers it was ox black.

On Alexi’s bloody chest It was ox black.

It even seemed to smell ox black. Ox black smelt like death warmed up.

You sat on his bed. Pulling the little boy onto your lap. Cradling his head. You pressed the bloody rag on his shoulder

“If only. If only. The woodpecker sighed. If the bark on the tree was as soft as the skies”

Your sweet voice floated through the stuffy air.

“While the wolf waits below. Hungry and lonely. He howls to the moo-oon.”

It was a song your mother taught you when you were little. She would hold you, the way you held Alexi now.

Alexi looked up at you from under his messy brown hair. His face was ghostly white in the candle light. White. No ox blood on his face. “If only, if only. The woodpecker sighed” His feeble voice joined in your own.

He had drifted off to sleep.

Rasputin pressed his own grubby figures against the rag. Pressing filthy bony fingers over yours. You forced down an expression of disgust. Rasputin started muttering an incantation, that wasn’t Russian or English. He yanked away the rag. Out of your grip.  

The wound stopped bleeding.

You glared at him. You always found Rasputin to be creepy, something very unnerving about him. But he healed Alexi, so you had to tolerate him.

“The nursemaid must leave now” His voice was like the rattling of bones.

Ivan’s mouth was twisted in distaste at Rasputin. Never the less, he said. “ You heard him (Y/N). Leave.”

How long had Ivan been standing there?

You gazed down at Alexi. Smoothing the hair from his sweaty forehead before recently raising. Ignoring the vulture. You for the second time that night squeezed past Ivan.

As you entered the darkened hallway, you heard Ivan say something.  

“(Y/N). Never sing that in front of me again”

------

You trudged out into the court yard, the next morning. Clutching the bucket of Alexi’s blood sodden rags in one hand. The crunching of the snow beneath your boots was the only sound in the chilly morning air. None of the servants had risen yet to start morning chores.

Tipping the rags into a trough of clean water, you began scrubbing vigorously. The smell of hours old blood was enough to make bile rise in your throat. The blood mingled with clear water making it pink.

“That’s a ton of blood! Jeez who got on your bad side? “ an animated, cheery voice startled you. Then an obnoxious laugh that seemed to rattle the morning air. You lifted your head from your dirty work. A pinkish rag still in hand

A stranger with bright golden hair tucked under a black cap, stared at you with light blue eyes that seemed to be magnified by a pair of coke bottle glasses.

You could tell from his neatly trimmed ox blood black coat, shiny leather shoes and fur lined gloves that he was either elite society or filthy rich. Probably both. He didn’t catch your intertest too much. Rich aristocrats and dignitaries came in and out of the palace all the time. He was most likely the son of some nobility.

You wrung the pink blood into the snow, exhaling a steamed breath into the frigid air. He laughed again. Even though you hadn’t said a word. You picked up the bloody tin bucket and threw it into the water. “No English?”

You began scooping bucket fills of water and throwing into the snow, systematically in an attempt to rid the bucket of residue blood. “I speak it” you replied.

“Okay so what’s with all the blood?” all cheeriness was gone, now replaced with suspicion. You turned again to face the blue eyed stranger. You clicked your tongue “Ox blood” you replied curtly.

Alexi’s condition was kept secret from everyone outside of the royal family. He pressed his mouth into a straight line and you saw a slight flicker of recognition.

“You seem familiar-“ his voice had a strange drawl.

“I can assure you, we have never met. now if you will excuse me”

Without even a cursory glance, you took the now clean rags and bucket and trudged towards the kitchen door. Then he said something that made your heart stop.

“You’re (Y/N)!” the golden hair stranger suddenly exclaimed, he sounded genuinely shocked. “Ivan told us you died years ago!”

[soddinghelp-blog]

I know its been long since my last chapter. But it takes a lot of time to produce (what I think) is quality writing. If someone is going to take the time to read my work. I owe it to them to give them the best I can. I refuse to pump out a ton of mediocre work like some tumblrs I wont name. Quality over quantity.

[soddinghelp-blog]

Bloody Sunday

Russia x reader

Living in early 20th century  Russia is a dangerous business. As the official nanny to the very young future Tsar of the Russian empire. You’re under the constant watchful eye of Ivan who has a not-so-secret resentment for you. You navigate a world of political tension, violence, grief and death as you struggle to find an adequate way of raising the future emperor of Russia while avoiding the wrath-filled anger of Ivan. After all you took something very precious from him. Now he’s out for revenge, no matter the cost.

Chapter one

“I should have executed you long ago”

Today was the most difficult day of the year for you.  

It was a day that always brought out an intense sorrow that you buried deeply in yourself for the rest of the year.

Alexi was fidgeting again. Tugging at the sleeves of his uniform as the priest droned on. The Romanovs stood rigidly still, aware that all eyes were on them the ballroom was crowded for today’s Sunday service. It was your duty as a senior servant to attend. Alexi caught your eye. He gave you a huge toothy grin. You felt your spirts lift slightly. You bit the inside your cheek to stop yourself from laughing. That sweet child always had a way of making you laugh even today.

Ivan suddenly gave the boy’s ear a sharp tug. Alexi winced and pouted before turning about to look at the priest. Ivan towered over everyone else in the hall. Standing dead, with an expression that could have been cut from stone. He stared you down coldly before turning away.

---

“I do not approve of your behaviour during the ceremony” Ivan said coldly. Not bothering with greetings. You had to crane your neck to meet his stony gaze. “I beg your pardon?”

The golden medals on his uniform glinted coldly in the late winter sunlight. His grey-white hair the same colour as the snow outside. “Districting the prince from the service.” His harsh voice bounced off of the walls of the now empty grand hall. You blinked at him.

“you can’t honestly expect him to listen. He’s only 6” You protested.

“He’s a prince” his voice rang loudly. You didn’t respond right away.

Both of you knew what this was really about.

“I know you still blame me for what happened” You said softly.

Wrong thing to say.

He slapped you. It happened so fast you didn’t even see it coming. But you felt the blow and the rings on his fingers leave stinging staraches along your cheek. Even through your vile of shocked, pain stricken tears. You saw how Ivan’s face morphed into a mask of raw emotions, too many to count. Rage, grief, surprise, hate, intense sorrow, resentment. Gloved giant hands clenching and unclenching.  You stepped back, afraid he would strike you again.  “I should’ve had you executed years ago. I was too soft on you” he growled.

“Mama?” came a small frightened voice. Alexi stood there, neither of you heard him approach, he’s still in his tiny milirity uniform. He was clutching his favourite wooden car to his chest. Grey eyes wide and frightened. “Why are you hurting my mama?” he asked. Ivan turned to face the boy who was a quarter of his size. “Because she was insolent” The poor boy looked utterly confused and ready to cry

You shakily wiped the trickle of blood from your mouth on the sleeve of your dress. You spread open your arms. Alexi rushed into them. You stood up. Never letting go of Alexi. For a boy of his age he was so small and frale.

Ivan watched you. Eyes still full of rage. You shrank back as he reached out. But he lightly stroked Alexi’s hair teanderly. He leaned over. “You should be greatful you have the tsarina to hide behind. But that protection wont last forever. Make no mistake. Your excuition has only been delayed.” He hissed in your ear.

Without another word you fled the ball room.

“Mama?”

“Yes my darling?”

“What does “executed” mean?”

-------

Today was the most difficult day of the year for Ivan.

He had to tolerate her presence in the palace. The woman who had caused him so much pain. A constant reminder of the worst day of his long, long life. The way you breezed down the palace hallways either with one of the princesses or with Alexi in tow.

It was enough to make him want to rip out his heart. Well, more acractly it made him want to rip your heart out.

He kept stealing small glances over at you. The way you seemed to glow softly in the weak late winter sun. The way your (hair coloured) curls so delicately framed around your (skin tone) face. He watched as you suppressed a laugh at Alexi’s slightly cheeky grin.Ivan felt his chest swell with a fresh sense resentment all over again.

He should have signed her death warrant. But he was weak, he was human even if only for a moment.