Warning(s): non canon compliant (changed the ending, sue me), lying,
Summary: Dmitry's time in Paris is interrupted when someone confuses him for a childhood best friend. What could have been easily cleared up in the moment spirals into something much bigger and leaves him feeling like there may never be a way out.
Author's Note: I know I said I was going to wait to do this so I could work on some writing challenge stuff, but I really want to get some of these requests done pre-pride.
This was requested by an anonymous reader here on Tumblr!
I'm also still playing around with 2nd person pov, so let me know if you vibe with it.
Navigation Guide | Prompt List - Romantic Tropes | Original Characters Masterlist | Album Writing Challenges
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Truly, it all could have stopped after the first day.
That day where Dmitry was wandering the streets of Paris on his own. Hands tucked in his pockets and mind full of anything other than where he was going. Anya vanishing into the wind as if she had been nothing but a figment of his imagination. Vlad vanishing in the chaos of Paris that had invited him in with open arms.
These were the times when Dmitry had wished that he simply remained in Russia. Where he knew his place. Where he could feel like he ruled his small corner of the world.
Paris was not that.
His thoughts must have been enough to silence the outside world. The voices and steps and music. Because the next thing he knew, there was a hand on his arm, forcing him to turn around with a force that only matched an owner accusing him of theft.
He was clearly shocked when he turned around. More shocked when he was met with the smiling face of you.
"Oh, I knew it!" your voice was excited and bright. You touched a hand to your chest. "Oh, Benjamin, it's so good to see you!"
Dmitry paused. Benjamin?
You paused, a clear moment of disappointment pulling at your features that you clearly tried to mask. "It's me! Remember?"
You said your name like Dmitry would have heard it a thousand times. It was still a mystery to him.
"You have to be joking," you continued. "You're going to stand there and pretend that you don't recognize someone that you practically grew up with?"
Dmitry could not have given a reasonable explanation for what came out of his mouth if someone had held him at gun point, "Ah, yes! I'm sorry! My eyes must be getting weaker with my old age."
You scoffed and hit his arm. "You are the same age as I am and I recognized you from across the road, Benjamin. I appreciate your jokes and tricks even less now than I did when we were children."
He took a beat to come up with the best course of action here, "You're right, I'm so sorry, dear friend."
He didn't have a reason for the kindness that he was showing to this stranger, but he found it hard to care about such reasoning when you stepped forward and hugged him.
The hug was warm. Familiar despite him having no true history with you. Was this your way? To hug people as if they were the most important person you had ever met? Dmitry was beginning to feel jealous of this long-lost Benjamin.
"I have missed you so much," you mumbled to him. The words were so sweet he could have been convinced that honey was poured directly into his ear. He could have melted.
You stepped back and his mind was still spinning.
"Oh, I wish I wasn't so busy." you frowned at him. "My mother has given me a whole list. We must find some time to spend together."
"Of course," he agreed, assuming that such a time would never come.
"I have a great idea!" you grabbed his arm. Those words didn't always lead to the best conclusions for him. "Meet me in this spot tomorrow at this time. We can go great something from a nearby shop. How does that sound?"
"Sounds perfect," he replied, already planning on how to avoid the area tomorrow. "I'll see you then."
"See you then!"
You gave him one more hug before rushing off again. And in a matter of fleeting seconds, you had left some kind of mark on Dmitry. One that he may never understand and may never want to.
He never planned to go back to that spot. Never. He planned to spend the next several days avoiding the area with every ounce of his power.
But something drew him back.
Maybe it was some deep desire to show you kindness. Maybe it was his loneliness pushing him.
All that he knew was that he somehow found himself walking slowly to that very same spot the next day.
One of the most vivid memories he would have in his life would be the bright smile on your face when you saw him again. He got another hug that made it feel like whatever poor choice he was making was definitely worth it.
You two spent the day roaming. Walking from place to place. You would tell stories. Dmitry would agree with them. Laugh in the right places, agree in the right places. It was an old skill for him at this point. Not something new for him.
A good person would have never let it get to this point.
A somewhat good person would have never let it go past the first day.
Instead, Dmitry came back the next day.
And the next.
And soon he had met you every day for a week.
You would walk at times. You would find small shops for treats and food that Dmitry would have never dreamed of stepping foot in. There was one day when you sat together and you simply read to him. For hours. And he loved every second of it.
He continued to laugh and agree with your stories and memories. At some point, it began to feel less like lying and more like he simply was Benjamin. That he had stripped the skin from himself and wore this Benjamin's face around like a silly mask.
He told himself every night that it would be the last time that he saw you. But every morning, he would find himself justifying turning that corner, walking down that road, smiling when he met your eyes. As if a force called him to you. As if you were some kind of siren creature and your song was kindness instead of calling Dmitry to his death.
Dmitry had never planned on telling you the truth. Truly, he didn't. He thought that one day he would allow "Benjamin" to disappear into the crowd and never be seen again.
And then, you invited him to dinner.
It was after your day spent together. The second where you had spent most of the time simply reading to him.
You had made it back to the usual meeting spot. At some point, he had grabbed your hand. Likely when helping you up from where you two had been resting before. He had no reason for why he had yet to let go.
He was ready to say his goodbyes and continue on his way. He would probably do the same thing as last time: promise to not go back tomorrow but be there bright and early to keep you company.
But you spoke before he could even entertain that plan, "I should have asked you earlier, but my mother is making a lovely dinner tonight. She asked me to invite you."
Dmitry's voice failed him for the first time in a long time.
"Obviously, if you do not want to go, then you don't have to, but I would like for you to," you added.
He took a breath.
His momentary hesitation was enough to get you to attempt to escape the silly idea, "You know what? Never mind, ignore what I said-"
"I need to be honest with you."
Dmitry didn't let go of your hand, unable to unclasp his fingers to allow you a chance to leave him if you were angry. You stared at him with big, expectant eyes.
He paused. It was as if the wide-eyed look you gave him was enough to stop him dead in his tracks for a few seconds.
"What," you asked.
He took a breath. "I'm not Benjamin."
It was your turn to pause. Just for a few moments before you spoke up again, "I must be honest with you then."
His eyebrows furrowed at your sentence.
"I knew that already."
Dmitry's jaw fell slack at your confession. "You knew? How could you have possibly known?"
"I had my suspicion on the second day when you seemed to hate that pastry we got," you explained with a simple shrug of your shoulders. "Then, I started slipping in a few... telltales about our- or my childhood and you would just agree with everything."
He ran his free hand over his face. Again, he had never pulled his hand out of yours.
"My parents are aware, as well," you added.
"Why never confront me? Why not say something?"
You tilted your head, as if studying him. "You seemed as if you needed it."
He looked confused.
"You seemed lonely," you admitted. "Every time I saw you, you seemed lost. And who would keep up such a ridiculous act where the only prize was company, if they weren't lonely?"
There was no response.
"Come," you said, tugging on his hand. "My mother has spent ages making sure dinner was good enough to impress you."
The idea of someone putting so much thought into doing something for him- to impress him- was enough to shock Dmitry into simply following along as you guided him.
You twirled him through turns and crowds as if you had choreographed the walk beforehand, and he had merely missed rehearsals.
"Wait!" his voice was sharp enough to spook himself. You too had hit a barren stretch of road.
You turned around with a small laugh tickling your lips. "What could you possibly need now? Have we not gone over- Oh!"
He dragged you into a hug. A strong hug. Almost stronger than the one that you had given him on that first day you had seen him in the street.
There may never be a time when Dmitry feels safe enough to explain everything to you. The story of Ana and Vlad and the great con that almost was. About fleeing and the ballet and being left alone on that bridge. But he was beginning to believe that you would never ask him to. Not until he was ready.
Because for now, you were hugging him back. Holding him as if he were an old friend. As if he hadn't lied about who he was. As if he hadn't given you every reason not to show him an ounce of kindness.
And that one action may be enough to keep him out of that fog that he had spent so long stuck in.
Anastasia: The Musical - Dmitry x Reader, fluff
for @locke-writes 1.5k Writing Challenge!
tw: mentions of death
word count: 1.3k
prompt: “I’m the happiest I’ve ever been and I blame you”
A/N: i finished it! and on valentine’s day, no less. i hope you like it!
Summary: A snowstorm sends Dmitry out into the cold and (Y/n) left pacing, wondering if he’ll return
The snow had started to fall in the morning, and by midday, it was a blizzard, painting the world in cold shades of grey. Harsh snow wasn't anything new, this time of year, but weather like this always swept in a feeling of dread - a bitter sort of restlessness that lay at the heart of every Russian, stirring worry in the pits of their stomachs and sending tremors down their spine. (Y/n) had slept the evening prior with the distinct feeling that something in the air was changed, and when they woke to sleeted streets and snowy oblivion, they knew the feeling wasn't going to go away.
Not until the wind stopped howling and the skies stopped damning them from above.
When Dmitry woke from his slumber, his hair was mussed and his smile was wide. It melted like frost on a summer day when he opened his eyes and saw the rigidity of (Y/n)'s stance. He made no sound of greeting, only stood and grabbed their blankets, walking over to wrap (Y/n) in warmth from behind.
(Y/n) sighed, their tight chest, making them shudder. Dmitry rested his head on their shoulder, something poignant in the way he paused - as though he didn't want to disturb their thoughts but wanted to be in them, nonetheless.
"It'll be a blizzard." And (Y/n)'s statement was as certain as the earth beneath their feet, unshakable, solid, and omnipresent.
Dmitry kissed their cheek, and when he spoke, his words tickled their skin. "I'll be back before the worst of it starts."
"Promise?"
"Always."
He kissed (Y/n) again and then slipped out of their grasp.
It wasn't immediately after his departure that (Y/n) started to worry, but by midday, they were pacing. The cold seeped beneath their skin, the snow obscured their vision, and the wind rattled (Y/n)'s thoughts as though their worries were two spiders in a jar, only waiting for a reason to tear the other apart. What was once a layer of snow became a mountain, the storm having deposited so much weather, walking through it would be like wading through water. By now, the ice was thick and the wind was terrible - all it would take is one small step in the wrong direction, and Dmitry would never come home.
Part of (Y/n) insisted that Dmitry was strong and stubborn, and he was especially bullheaded when it came to them. Not even Death himself could stop Dmitry from coming home - a blizzard like this stood no chance. Not when Dmitry's smile was like the sun itself - able to quell any storm into submission, able to burn the frost off of (Y/n)'s aching heart, able to bring something as beautiful as summer in the dead of winter.
For Dmitry, the snow would be a minor inconvenience in a world pitted against him from the beginning. One storm was nothing to worry about.
But another part of (Y/n), a more conniving and sinister force within them, said otherwise. This world was cruel to people like them; hope could turn its back on them easier and faster than breathing. Rarely did the world take pity on the likes of them, and even rarer did it give them the smallest of sympathies. Dmitry had been a boon against the ceaseless tide of misfortune; perhaps (Y/n)'s blessings had run out. It wouldn't be the first time (Y/n) lost someone, and it wouldn't be the last.
But could they survive losing Dmitry? Or would he steal everything they were, with his swift departure?
Already, (Y/n) could feel themself slipping away, just like Dmitry had, that morning.
Thud.
Something hit the door with a force that could knock the old wood off of its hinges, had Dmitry not fortified it with everything he had. (Y/n) jumped at the abrupt sound, and their heart ran a marathon in their chest.
Thud.
(Y/n) unbolted the door and the wind knocked them back, whistling and moaning, ushering in frozen snow and icy sleet. Dmitry, wrapped in the thinnest of coats, stumbled in, and together they pushed the door shut.
The door clicked in place, but the wind still battered against its frame. For a moment, all (Y/n) could hear was heavy breathing and the wails of a ghostly, vengeful wind.
Dmitry, his cheeks so cold they almost looked purple, breathed against his curled fingers. When he caught (Y/n)'s stare, still panicked despite his presence, he offered a lame smile. "Back before the worst of it?" he whispered, his voice hoarse and shaking.
(Y/n) breathed out, a mix between relief and exasperation, "You...Dima..." He turned to them, laughter in his eyes, and (Y/n) could feel the tension in this chest start to dissipate. He was safe, and somehow in his usual spirits. How was it that he managed to nearly die and laugh all the while? (Y/n) shook their head, trying to stuff down the happiness that was growing in their chest. "I'm going to kill you."
"Oh?"
(Y/n) lunged to the side, moving to grab him by his collar, but Dmitry shot forward and quickly turned around, putting his freezing hands on the back of (Y/n)'s neck. They cringed and cried out a string of shrill expletives and Dmitry pulled (Y/n) to his frigid chest, his clothes stiff from frost but thawing already.
Dmitry kissed their cheek - just like he had earlier that morning, and his lips were cold and chapped.
"You promised you'd be home sooner."
"I recall saying 'before the worst of it' and seeing as there's no way to tell exactly what the worst of it is—"
"Dima!"
He chuckled, and (Y/n) could feel the rumble in his chest, the feeling somehow warm, despite it all. (Y/n) closed their eyes and allowed for their fear to melt off of their heart, for their thoughts to calm to contentment. Standing there, (Y/n) waited until all they could feel was the beat of Dmitry's heart.
"We need to get you out of these clothes."
"That's rather forward of you."
(Y/n) smacked the arm that was wrapped around them and he laughed again, the sound loud enough to cover the wind.
They rolled their eyes. "So you don't get sick, Dmitry."
"That's not nearly as fun."
But Dmitry untangled himself from their embrace and got to work stripping off layers of wet clothing - jackets, scarves, and socks - and (Y/n) found him another set of clothes to wear. It was still cold, and with little else to do, (Y/n) and Dmitry settled into bed prematurely, talking in hushed voices. It was dark and peaceful, and while (Y/n) couldn't see Dmitry's face, they could tell by the sound of his voice that he was tired.
After hearing about Vlad's latest adventure, sneaking valuables from the abandoned palace, (Y/n) closed their eyes with a smile. Silence wrapped the two souls comfortably, shielding them from the weather that raged above and the uncertainty that swirled around. For a moment, (Y/n) thought that Dmitry had fallen asleep, but then he spoke, his voice almost dreamy - thick and far away, soft but sure.
"I'm the happiest I've ever been."
(Y/n) hummed, not daring to open their eyes, lest the spell be broken and they find out it had all been a dream.
"I blame you for it."
(Y/n) opened their eyes and shifted to the side so that they could see Dmitry's smiling face, his gentle features reflecting a pure, and beautiful bliss. "You blame me?"
Dmitry dipped his head in a nod. "I mean, I could blame my good looks for it, but that's not nearly as fun." (Y/n) scoffed, and in the dim light of the storm, they thought Dmitry winked.
"Well, I blame all of you for my happiness - good looks included."
"I'm glad," Dmitry murmured, and he leaned forward to kiss them gently, like the sun kissing the earth; all the universe seemed to pause for Dmitry to pull away so that the two might have calm in their precious moment.
Dmitry closed his eyes to sleep and (Y/n) came closer, kissing his eyelids before allowing themself to drift off, as well.
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taglist: @musicallisto, @locke-writes, @neelia-thedaughtherof-athena, @amortensie, @captainshazamerica // message me if you want to be added!
She Used to Be Mine - Dmitry Imagine [Anastasia (Broadway)]
Title: She Used To Be Mine
Pairing: Dmitry (Broadway version) x reader
Musical Prompt Chosen: She Used to be Mine from Waitress
Requested: By @kayd13 (why can’t I tag you, what the fuck?)
Warnings: Bad parents, abandonment, fear and insecurity (how fun does that sound?)
Summary: Luck isn’t on everyone’s side during a revolution. Some are hit harder than others. The reader finds the worst part of it all waiting them and looks for help from someone who has always been there.
Author’s Note: I know this song is about pregnancy. I’m reinterpreting the lyrics for this narrative. Also, these musical prompts don’t have to be for musical characters, it’s just a coincidence that a musical character was what we decided on. Also, I’m terrified that I’m not spelling his name right but that’s the way it was spelled on Wikipedia. Finally, this is shorter than I was hoping it would be.
“Dmitry,” I yelled as I slammed the door. Dmitry was staying with Vlad and it was the safest place I knew... at least now.
Dmitry came running over to me. He pulled me into his arms and kissed my head quickly. I was shaking as I cried into his chest. He rubbing my back and mumbled into my ear. I had finally calmed down a little bit but he didn’t let go of me.
“What happened,” he asked.
“Everything is going wrong,” I said quietly. “My parents are calling me an embarrassment. I lost my job. You’ve always been my only friend. I’ve got nothing.”
“You’ve got me,” he promised.
“I just... I want to go back in time,” I stepped back from him, letting him grab my hand. “I was so brave when I was younger. I was carefree and brave. I miss that. Look at me now. I’m weak and a coward.”
“No you aren’t,” Dmitry shook his head.
“Look at me,” I mumbled, finally dropping his hand. “I’m nothing close to what I was before. I’m weak. I’ve fallen apart. I used to look forward to what lies ahead and now I don’t. I’m terrified of everything. Life dealt me a bad hand and I can’t find any good cards to play. I want to go back to who I was before. Running and being free. Helping my family. Being something great.”
“You are something great,” he argued. “Yes, you used to be care free. But now you understand so much more. You aren’t perfect but no one is. I would rather have you now than anyone else. You are this beautiful mix of everything. I wouldn’t want you to change for anything.”
“I don’t even recognize myself anymore,” I felt more tears fall as I looked down. “I look so torn down, so hopeless.”
“I don’t see that,” he replied. “Do you wanna know what I see?”
I nodded.
“I see someone who may be at their lowest point, but is going to come back with a little more fight,” he started, grabbing my hand again and stepping closer to me. “I see someone who has learned so much in life at nineteen... far too young to have to experience those things. I see someone who taught me what love actually was. Showed me how to love people. I strive to be more like you. I love you.”
“Did you really mean all of that,” I asked. He nodded with a small smile. “I love you too.”
He pulled into his arms again. I moved back enough and leaned up to kiss him softly. I finally let a genuine, non-sarcastic smile form on my lips as I pulled back and hid my face in his chest, this time without sobbing.
