state of mind.

roman baranovsky, thirty-four, russian mob, loyalist. “ see, people with power understand exactly one thing: v i o l e n c e. ”

[richardmaddan]

All right, have a great fucking set, man.

[rcmans-b]

maksim-kurylenko‌:

“Yes, Roman, because, obviously, the Russian bratva is known for its appreciation for paperwork,” Maksim pursed his lips and tilted his head, nodding along. Even though Kurylenko wasn’t oblivious to the fact that the French would retaliate for all the damage Russians and Brits have been inflicting for the last year, he felt confident. More than he ever did in Launceston. The fact that he had men like Roman to count on here – loyal and capable, gave him hope, that and the fact that they’ve learned from Launceston’s mistakes. 

“Don’t be a dick, Dima can throw a punch or two, if you point where to punch, that is,” his face lit up with a revelation, “actually, why don’t you train the new recruits? Show them how it’s done? Huh, what do you say?” This wasn’t the first time Maksim had enlisted Roman as a mentor-of-sorts for the new members, but it would be first for London. Maksim was nothing but grateful and Roman knew full well his extra-hours would be well-compensated and the look he gave him was of a reassurance that it would be the case this time around as well. 

Even with Maksim’s presence (it usually being a calming one), Roman was still tense, the teasing words merely shrugged off with a quick roll of his eyes. Hell would freeze over before he let a minor inconvenience, such as being walked into, would be forgotten about in a matter of seconds. But the other man’s words nearly had hell doing just that, as the incident was shoved to the back of his mind and he quirked up, his eyebrows raising in interest. He’d be an absolute idiot to turn down such an offer, and a generous one, too.

“If all new recruits have the same kind of poor coordination, I’d be doing you a favor,” Roman teased, a smirk just barely tugging at the corners of his lips as his gaze swept over Dima before returning to the taller man. He’d never doubted anything Maksim had offered up to him, and this wasn’t the case either. It would make him feel better about this whole London situation too if he knew that their new recruits were well trained, and not afraid to get their hands dirty when things really mattered. “Count me in.”

[rcmans-b]

cassandra-acton‌:

The Russian curses had caught her attention long before she could make sense of the scene unfolding before her. The way her stomach turned was pure reflex.

Cassie had looked up from her phone a moment later, eyes narrowing as the man in question seemed to physically shove another woman away from him. What the fuck? It was hard to tell what she could’ve done to warrant such a response, but people seemed suspiciously quiet. The crowd parted as the person he’d assaulted stumbled backward, and Cassie would’ve called out herself if the Russian hadn’t slammed into her right after. Not only did it cause her to take a step back, but it fucking hurt. If looks could kill.

“After you walked into me? It seems fucking unlikely, I’ll be honest.”

Another confrontation was the last thing Roman needed right now, but it would be uncharacteristically weak of him to merely turn around and walk away without engaging, even if it may have been the smartest option. The smartest option was never the one he went for though, it seemed. His eyes narrowed into a glare as he stared her down, sure his gaze was shooting absolute daggers at her as his light eyes only seemed to grow darker with each second that he tried to wrap his head around the situation.

“You don’t look like you’re blind,” he started, leaning in closer as if to really check that his assumption was right before he was standing up straight again. “But you’d have to be to completely miss me.”

He looked around, his hand gesturing at the people that had seemed to stop and zeroed in on what was happening; not that he cared that he was the center of attention, but it was more so to show her that she’d been the only one not seeing him.

“Now, are you going to apologize?”

[rcmans-b]

zhanna-medvedeva‌:

“Stand down, солнце,” Zhanna instructed, placing a hand directly to Alexei’s chest and another inches away from touching Roman’s. She never touched someone who hadn’t earned or paid for it. She pushed gently into the hand pressed against Alexei and he turned away. He didn’t travel far as he wrapped an arm a little too tightly around the prostitute who’d pickpocketed Roman. “Is everything there? She’s new, my apologies for her indiscretions.”

The hand that hovered inches away from him was enough to stop Roman from asking again if he was going to apologize, and not quite so nicely this time. Though words that fell from his lips often didn’t come out quite so nicely anyway. His gaze shifted down to the blonde, a shrug given. “You’re going to keep employees like that on your team?” he questioned, looking over at the girl who’d wrongfully thought his wallet had belonged to her. “Not a good look for your business, Zhanna.”

[smilecapsules-deactivated202106]

RICHARD MADDEN 1917 World Premiere

[nm-6]

got caught giving a fuck. embarrassing.

[rcmans-b]

maksim-kurylenko‌:

“Roman Baranovsky, the fifth-wave feminist, not giving a pretty woman a pass just because she’s pretty.” Maksim noisily sipped on his straw, finishing off his second drink for the night, amused by what had transpired in front of him. He’d always been fond of Roman, knowing him for quite some time. 

Before Roman would punch the man that just crashed into him, Maksim put his arm around his friend’s shoulder to make sure he wouldn’t. “Forgive Dima here, his eyesight is not that great, he won’t be joining the sniper school any time soon.” Maksim tried to defuse the bomb that was Roman, his men turning onto one another was the last thing they needed. Dima was one of the newest recruits, a Belorussian living in London for quite some time. “Dima, meet Roman. The absolute last person you want to piss off by your lack of coordination.”

Roman’s short fuse had gotten him in trouble more times than he could count and surely, this would have been one of those times had it not been for Maksim quickly and easily slipping in to defuse him. He had a way with words and actions that very few had with him, the arm around his shoulder enough to make him relax some; though the man was always tense in some way or another. Scoffing, his gaze scanned over the man that had crashed into him like he was nothing more than dirt under his shoe before his head turned to his friend.

“Is that what you’re recruiting nowadays?” He questioned, his hand gesturing vaguely toward Dima, a roll of his eyes given. “I’d hope you’d be putting him behind a desk to save you all some trouble.” He had no problem talking bad about people in front of them if he had a reason to, and the way the new recruit had so carelessly crashed into him when he obviously should have known to stay out of Roman’s way meant he felt he had more than enough reason to.

“God bless us all if this is what’s out on the front lines.”

[rcmans-b]

“Proklyat'ye!” The man cursed in his native tongue as he felt nimble fingers try to pick his wallet from his back pocket. The balls on ‘em. Quickly turning around, he tightly grabbed the wrist of the person who wrongfully thought his wallet belonged to her. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you, sweetheart,” he spoke through gritted teeth, his eyes narrowing at the girl, words laced with a thick, russian accent. Grabbing the wallet back from her, his eyes dark with the fury that was quickly building inside him, he pushed her away from him. “Otoydi ot menya,” he spat, pocketing his wallet before turning right back around, crashing into another body in the process, like the thief hadn’t been enough to ruin his day already. “Are you going to apologize?”

[cuntyarmand]

Richard Madden photographed for The New York Times.

[richardmaddendaily]

maddenrichard Rainy beach run ⛈