my headcanon of Turkey, especially while he was the Ottoman Empire, has always had him a little... darker. written by request for a friend, who wanted something to do with "Renaissance Italy". me being me, this is the furthest thing while somehow being related.
I'll See You Strong
He supposed it was ironic that, just as the Renaissance had risen from the ashes of plague, so too would it be destroyed by it. The loss, however, was not mourned, at least not from where Sadiq sat, surrounded by the opulent comforts of his camp, one hand trailing absently down the smooth planes of the mask he wore, enjoying the slide of his silken clothing as he did so.
Young Italy had always been surrounded by the glamour of luxury, his coveted trading routes generating much revenue for the cities connected to them, particularly the previously flourishing city of Florence.
Now, however, he could almost smell the stench of the dead as the Italians rushed to burn the plague-ridden corpses, while those that couldn't be set alight were thrown into mass pits inside the cemeteries. It made the edges of Sadiq's mouth quirk up in a small smile, one that would've been gentle were it not for the sharp, calculating gleam in his eyes.
Little Italy would be barricaded within his capital, he knew, likely crying over the downfall of his great cities, with none of the former protection he had once had. Sadiq had ensured that when he himself had disrupted the trade routes to the east, cutting off much of Italy's trade in an attempt to weaken him, as well as the other countries that benefitted from such exchanges. This plague, however, worked more in his favour than any act of war did, and it made him chuckle lowly, his dark eyes closing behind the mask even as he tilted his head forward, an amused smile present for those who dared look.
I'll see him strong under me, Sadiq mused absently.
And then no one will stand in my way.