Francis Forever by Mitski (Mihawk's POV)

Scott Street by Phoebe Bridgers

Diet Mountain Dew by Lana Del Rey

Too Sweet by Hozier (Mihawk's POV)

Poison by Alice Cooper

All I Wanted by Paramore (Mihawk's POV)

Take Me to Church by Hozier

I Bet on Losing Dogs by Mitski (Shanks' POV)

Wicked Game by Chris Isaak

Waiting Room by Phoebe Bridgers (Shanks' POV)

Judas by Lady Gaga

Sidelines by Phoebe Bridgers (Mihawk's POV)

Turning Page by Sleeping at Last

Photo from Pyrohiv

“I agreed only because I need money for the stable roof.”

“I believe you,” the Zaporizhian chuckles, raising the other man’s palm to his lips and kissing his wrist. “And when I saw that it was none other than Mihai Dracule looking for me, I couldn’t believe my luck.”

“Have we met before?” Mihai asks, furrowing his brow. If so, it is strange that he did not remember Red.

It is hard to forget someone like him.

“I saw you in Kyiv once, at a competition during some festival. It was a long time ago, about seven years from now, when you were obviously still willing to take part in such events.”

“I earned my living doing what I did best. The biggest prizes were at the royal competitions. That is where the Crown Hetman took notice of me.”

“You were incredible,” Red says, kissing him again, this time on the thumb knuckle.

Mihai starts to feel a pleasant tingling in his stomach. He moves closer.

“Why did you not approach me back then?”

We could have met much earlier…

Red blinks a few times and stares into Dracule’s amber eyes, as if searching for something. And he must have found it, because he smiles so dazzlingly that Mihai risks going blind.

But it is worth it.

“I wanted to,” admits the otaman. “But I had just joined my brethren and couldn’t just leave them like that. Because, to be completely honest, I was afraid that getting to know you would make me change my mind about the Sich.”

“I see,” here Mihai could have continued yesterday’s persuasion to move in with him at the estate, but he holds his tongue.

“And you didn’t exactly look approachable.”

Dracule snorts.

“That did not stop you a week ago.”

In response, Red laughs heartily and snuggles up to Mihai, wrapping his arms around his neck:

“A week ago, I decided I’d be a complete fool if I blew my chance with you a second time.”

You’re not a complete fool, but a fool for Dracule nonetheless, Red!

The final chapter Day 7: The last day, and I will be the lord over lords of Lost with the Letter, a historical Ukrainian Mishanks AU, is out! Enjoy!

Ao3 link

Photo from Pyrohiv

“Ha!” Red cheerfully kisses him on the cheek and grabs the mug with both hands, taking a loud gulp from it.

In response to the rude sound, Mihai curls his lips but does not scold the Zaporizhian. Instead, he runs his fingers through the otaman’s bright hair—soft and smooth, nothing like his own—and gently massages his head.

“And what am I supposed to do with you now?” Mihai muses, speaking not so much to Red as to himself.

“What do you mean?” Red squints with satisfaction, still relaxed, though Dracule senses that he has tensed up ever so slightly. “I thought we’d made it pretty clear what we are going to do with each other.”

With the other hand, Mihai picks up his wine glass, but instead of drinking, he slowly swirls it by the stem, watching the dark red liquid run down the transparent walls.

“You have obviously forgotten, but I was ordered to take you to some magnate in Zbarazh. Who is he, by the way, and why is he so desperate to meet you?”

Because resorting to me with a request like this is a sign of utter desperation.

“Don’t worry about that nonsense. And don’t take me anywhere. Just leave me where you found me and come visit from time to time.”

“Or you will come visit me?” Mihai raises an eyebrow, mentally picturing idyllic scenes with the otaman at his estate.

“Or I’ll come visit you. Sounds like a good option for us, doesn’t it?”

Mihai’s imagination is running wild, and having the Zaporizhian right by his side feels so good that he can barely hear the rational objections in his head as he voices a completely irrational proposal:

“And how about you move in with me at my place? For good.”

A shadow crosses Red’s face.

“And what will I be doing there?”

“Whatever you want. It is peaceful there. I have a garden, a vegetable patch, a pond, a winery. We will drink my wine, compete, make love. I am rarely called away on duty, so we will have plenty of time for each other,” Mihai closely watches the changes in the otaman’s mood but continues his thought: “How much longer do you plan to wander the steppes, chasing phantom ideals?”

Red glares at him and moves away. In his gaze, Dracule sees not only a fresh wound to his pride, but also long-standing pain and resentment about someone else. Therefore, Mihai makes no attempt to keep the man close, releasing his hand from his hair and giving him space.

“Do you really think I’d be content with a life in a golden cage paid for by the Polish crown? Do you think you can turn me into a lover, a concubine?! No way, don’t even dream of it, my hawk, you won’t wrest the otaman regalia and cossack honor even from my dead hands!”

If someone had told Mihai just a week ago that he would be listening with fascination to the fanatical rant of an ideological Zaporizhian vagabond, the registered officer would not have believed it.

Yet here I am.

Tense as a bowstring, Red stares expectantly at Mihai. Mihai takes a pause, calmly sipping from his glass and showing off his elegant profile, then turns to the redhead and places his hand on his knee.

“Sorry, but you will have to settle for being nothing more than my lover. We cannot get married—even my audacity is not enough for that.”

Dracule, what a little shit you are!

Chapter Day 6: We will sit together, and I will be the lord over lords of Lost with the Letter, a historical Ukrainian Mishanks AU, is out! Enjoy!

Ao3 link

Mihai wakes up alone in the kurin that Red built for them the day before on the little island. The kurin is tiny, the two of them could barely fit inside at night; Mihai is absolutely certain that this was exactly what the cheeky red-haired architect had intended. But he does not mind—after all, Dracule noticed this while the kurin was being built, but said nothing, smiling to himself as he stood knee-deep in the Dnipro, combing Night’s fur while she and Gryphon drank from the river.

Painting by Arkhyp Kuiindzhi

The Zaporizhian had fallen asleep on his chest, running his fingers over the dagger cross, but now the man was gone. And Mihai had not sensed his departure in his sleep, which was strange, because he could not remember the last time he slept so soundly—probably not since childhood.

How peculiar.

Raising his hands, Mihai stretches and sits down, rubbing his eyes. Sunlight falls on his bare feet at the kurin entrance. It is already quite hot, which means he has been asleep for a long time.

A terrible lack of discipline.

While Mihai looks around for his clothes, Red’s head in a straw hat appears in the entrance, vanishes immediately, and the next moment a huge, lush wreath of wildflowers and herbs lands on Dracule’s knees.

“Good morning,” Red says, wearing such a silly happy smile that it seems brighter than the sun, but Mihai does not want to hide from it. “I just started making breakfast, so you’ll have to wait a little.”

“You can cook?”

“Of course! What kind of cossack would I be if I didn’t know how to cook kulish?”

Mihai huffs and puts the wreath on his head. One of the flowers falls onto his shoulder like a hat plume.

“Will you teach me?”

After a few seconds of admiring the sight, Red eagerly and joyfully nods and holds out his hand. Mihai takes it, climbing out of the kurin, almost forgetting to grab his breeches and doublet.

***

Sitting on a log and skillfully chopping vegetables, herbs, and mushrooms—Red has really gone all out with the variety of ingredients; it is unlikely that Zaporizhian cossacks enjoy such a truly royal kulish on their campaigns,—Mihai cannot resist making an ironic remark:

“Were you putting on a show like this, full of cossack spirit, for each of the previous messengers?”

“No, only for you,” Red replies, lifting his head from the fire he is tending under the cauldron and smiling innocently. “The rest either agreed to go back where they came from, or I whipped their asses with ease.”

“I see. Well, I am definitely not going back where I came from just like that, but you will not be able to whip my ass with ease either.”

“Hey, and what do you think I was doing last night?! Literally, though, not figuratively like with the others, but still!”

Mihai’s eyes widen, and he freezes, clutching the knife in his hand.

We-e-e-e-ell, you must have really grown fond of the redhead, Hawk, to put up with his nonsense!

Chapter Day 5: The cossack spirit of Lost with the Letter, a historical Ukrainian Mishanks AU, is out! Enjoy!

Ao3 link

“Let’s go to the Great Meadow,” suggests sleepy Red, idly picking at his breakfast.

They are sitting in the empty inn at the same table in the corner, facing each other and touching feet.

Photo from Pyrohiv

Mihai raises an eyebrow.

“It will take a few days to get there, if not a week. And yet there are only three days left until our scheduled duel. Do you really think,” he tilts his head to one side, staring intently into Red’s eyes, while slowly running his boot up and down the otaman’s shin beneath the table, “that the last night’s events will convince me to refuse the hetman’s order?”

You are a skillful lover, but that is not enough.

“Not in the slightest,” Red says with a sweet smile, setting down his spoon and stretching contentedly.

Mihai allows himself to admire the man’s tanned sinewy arms and long fingers.

“But I still want to show you the beauty of the free Zaporizhian way of life,” Red continues, scratching his stubbly chin. “How about an island in the middle of the Dnipro? I know of one nearby, about 20 versts downstream from here.”

“And what about the horses?”

“There’s a ford.”

Sunlight streams through the window onto the table, glinting off Mihai’s wine glass. He takes a few sips and raises his amber eyes, golden and sparkling in the morning light, to look at Red.

“Show me your beauty, then.”

Red is more than eager to show it!

Chapter Day 4: Two riders of Lost with the Letter, a historical Ukrainian Mishanks AU, is out! Enjoy!

Ao3 link

Painting by Arkhyp Kuiindzhi

The registered officer takes a deep breath of the fragrant air, closing his eyes, and smiles. From beneath his eyelids, he sees—and indeed physically feels, for it is hard not to really—Red watching, spellbound and enchanted, the expression on Dracule’s face that he has never seen before.

“You'll probably be surprised, but as a boy I loved stories about cossacks and dreamed of the steppes, the Great Meadow, the Wild Field… But then I grew up.”

“And sold yourself to get your name on the register? How trivial.”

The smile disappears.

However, despite his harsh words, Red slowly reaches out his hand toward Mihai’s. Mihai notices this and does not pull his hand away.

“In your opinion, it is better to wander the world being broke and without a permanent place to stay?”

“Yes. I would never trade the freedom and respect I’ve earned from my kurin for the king’s handouts!” exclaims the Zaporizhian, finally covering Mihai’s hand with his own and intertwining their fingers.

Mihai faces him, without moving his hand, stares intently at the otaman’s face from above, and begins to lean toward the man.

He was used to people being afraid of his eyes. Or at least finding them uncomfortable and trying to look away as quickly as possible.

But this weirdo does not seem to scare easily.

“I see you are not only recklessly idealistic, but also insanely bold.”

“That’s the kind of people that live at the Sich,” Red laughs, his gaze sliding impatiently from Mihai’s eyes to his lips.

“It is a dangerous way to live,” Dracule replies, pausing teasingly as he hovers over the redhead. He notices that they have not even opened the wine they brought.

We will save it for later. It will not go to waste.

Red withdraws from the hypnotized examination of the officer’s lips and shoots him a reproachful glance. Mihai nearly bursts out laughing.

But the next moment, the damned Zaporizhian smiles again, mischievously and wantonly, and Mihai realizes too late that they are going to make love right here, on the raw ground, to the chirping of crickets and grass stalks pricking their skin.

Thank goodness we got far enough from the path.

That was very thoughtful of you, Hawky, thank you!

Chapter Day 3: From evening till morning of Lost with the Letter, a historical Ukrainian Mishanks AU, is out! Enjoy!

Ao3 link

Photo from Pyrohiv

The otaman finds his voice right in the middle of Dracule’s warm-up, poking his head out of the hammock.

“If I were guaranteed to witness such a spectacle every morning after a night of drinking, I’d never sober up.”

Slowly rotating his hips, Mihai casts a cold glance at the disheveled fiery mane and the narrowed satisfied eyes of the Zaporizhian—just like a cat that got the cream.

A big goofy ginger cat.

“As if you needed any extra motivation for that.”

“No,” laughs the redhead, “but with such a bonus, the hangover would be a lot easier to get through.”

“Nothing in this world is free. I will not allow you to just stand by and watch.”

“Oh?” Red jerks, and the hammock begins to sway dangerously.

“Join me,” Mihai frowns, clarifying the obvious.

The redhead’s eyes open wide, and he blinks rapidly for a second or two, stares at Dracule for another moment, and then relaxes:

“Oh, you mean… I’m afraid I’m not really in the mood for a duel this morning.”

“I am not inviting you to a duel right now. Just a sparring match. I saw some sturdy rods on my way here—they looked like handles for farm tools. Besides,” Mihai adds, lowering his voice timbre, “I will not challenge you to a duel while you are in such a state.”

The hammock sways harder.

“And what kind of state would that be?!” Red gasps indignantly. “I can take you with one hand!”

“Left or right?”

“What?”

“Left or right? I want to know the extent of your arrogance.”

“Right. Only because I’m left-handed. And yes, with the left one tied behind my back.”

Without deigning to give the Zaporizhian any reply other than a skeptical raised eyebrow, Mihai turns toward the bench, testing to see if it is the right height for his twists and lunges. And with a masterful stony expression, he ignores all the compliments that Red showers him with as he works out.

“Oh, fine, fine! I’m getting out!” the otaman finally yields.

Mihai was expecting the hungover redhead to stumble clumsily out of the hammock, but to his surprise, the man gets to his feet with astonishing agility.

Red walks over and grins mischievously:

“I’m ready for your rod.”

Of course you are, Red!

Chapter Day 2: Heat of Lost with the Letter, a historical Ukrainian Mishanks AU, is out! Enjoy!

Ao3 link