#nikolai Lantsov imagines

[lina-lovebug]

Nikolai Lantsov spicy headcannons

- Nikolai knows that he was born the second son, the bastard, and he had no chances of ever being King

- So he made his ventures elsewhere and proved himself in other ways, especially in the bedroom

- He knows how to get you riled up before bed, whispering in your ear, his hand on your thigh during a meeting and slowly trailing upwards

- and when you mumble to him that you're in public, he says "I can't help it, love, you're fun to mess with"

- this man eats pussy like it's a fucking competition

- and he's the only one competing. Against who? Himself

- his hands gripping your thighs as they shake, your head thrown back, your back ARCHING-

- even after you've orgasmed, his tongue is relentless to get you screaming his name all over again

- "your thighs are shaking so much, love," He says with a grin, keeling your legs apart as he presses soft kisses against your skin

- he doesn't enjoy quickies because he relishes being inside of you

- he wants to take his time with you, draw his hands over ever inch and memorize every little thing that makes you say his name and his name only

- "shit, just like that" "fuck, you're so wet" "you feel so fucking good"

- he loves whispering in your ear as he pounds into you and your nails along his back only encourage him

- afterwards, he always keeps a cloth and water bowl by the bed to clean you both up and kiss your forehead, lips, stomach, thighs

- especially the thighs cuz there's usually always bruises the next day

- and he cannot wait until the day is over so he can toss away his crown, pick you up, and lay you down so he can do it all over again

[futurecorps3]

Hiii, could you write a nikokai fic where reader is like in love with kaz but he doesn't really pay attention to her. And then the crows meet sturmhond because of a heist and he takes interest in the reader form the first moment he sae her and makes her fall in love with him. And then whatever you want lol. Maybe kaz being jealous idk.

Sorry for any grammatical mistake, english it's not my first language.

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐞

Masterlist<3

Summary: After years of being in love with the one and only Kaz Brekker, breaking her own heart, Y/N meets someone else... Pairing: Sturmhond x fem!inferni!reader, Kaz Brekker x fem!reader

Warnings: The usual crow violence, DRINKING, jealous Kaz, mean Kaz, "unrequited" love for a little while, Matthias is alive and well like in the books duh but this is ofc before Nikolai becomes king, idc I just want my Fjerdan hunk happy in Ketterdam, curse words, kind of a messy timeline. HURT AND NO COMFORT. Lmk if I missed any.

Word Count: 2.9K!! Requested: Yes

A/N: IM SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG! :( I've been looking forward to getting to this specific request because oh my god, also, I changed it up a little; making Kaz actually be in love with reader but never really trying anything. Tysm for requesting love! Hope you enjoy :)

˚ · • . °

Exhaustion. That's what she felt, and to be honest, it was even more frustrating when Y/N knew she was doing it to herself. Those persistent yet futile attempts at reading Kaz's silence or gaze as something else; a love message, a confession of his sins, any sign of vulnerability reserved for her. However, these attempts, though fervent, ultimately proved fruitless.

How could she confirm what she thought she saw if, after, say, he appeared distressed at her being in danger or fumed when some dick was being extra disgusting at the bar that night; he went back to being his usual cold self?

When she finally obtained concrete evidence that disproved her misconceptions ("Jesper, she prefers black coffee" or "Y/N, could you join me in my office for a moment?" simply to spend time together in quietude), he strategically distanced himself throughout the week, transforming those precious moments of tranquility and companionship into ordinary occurrences, leading her to, somehow, misunderstand them.

Another shot of vodka and the pain her thoughts evoked was replaced by the burning, bitter sensation in her tongue and throat. "A hangover won't make Kaz let you stay behind tomorrow, you know that?" Matthias smiled next to her.

Since he joined the crows, the Fjerdan had taken a special liking to his girlfriend's best friend; she was funny, kind hearted and could keep up his pace in drinking games. Nina couldn't be happier to see her loves get along so well, saying it's her dream come true. "Oh don't even start, Matthias" Y/N answered, feigning annoyance as she poured more of the burning liquid into her glass and pulled out another for her friend.

They silently toasted to nothing in particular and chatted about their books as they usually did. Matthias' romance novel had an interesting love triangle Y/N was eager to read when he was finished. From how he talked about it, the girl knew it was just her type of story. They were in the middle of a playful argument about a plot-hole Y/N thought she found when Kaz approached them.

His usual demeanor seemed a bit... shaken. If you asked the blonde, he'd say he only looked more agitated, but Y/N/N knew better; his hair was covering his forehead slightly, but he wasn't brushing it back. The limp was prominent still, yet he wasn't using his cane. Kaz was in a rush to get to her, maybe?.

"One of your fellow countrymen is starting a turmoil outside, doesn't speak Kerch. Will you please, for the tree's sake, go and talk some sense into his thick blonde skull?" Saints, why did she like him so much? Even like that, Y/N thought he looked rather divine. Matthias stood up from his seat and directed himself to the entrance.

"Since when do you care for what happens outside that door?" She asked with a grin, genuinely curious. "I wouldn't if he wasn't scaring off the pigeons. No wealthy tourist will endure the trouble that some drunk Fjerdan means just to get inside a place full of people that'll take his money" the boy explained, looking down at her.

Kaz's complexion, kissed by the soft glow of the candles, is pale yet flawless, as if untouched by the harshness of the world he inhabits. His sharp, well-defined features give him an air of enigmatic sophistication, further heightened by the way the light dances upon his cheekbones, emphasizing their elegant structure.

Y/N realizes she's staring. She looks away.

The bastard smirks. "Finding something intriguing, are we?" And oh, she wanted to stab him to see if that would wipe the stupid grin he carried. "Oh, please, Kaz. You give yourself too much credit. I was merely lost in thought, contemplating the mysteries of the world. Your face happened to be in the line of sight, that's all."

Quick, sarcastic answer, as if the seconds between her silence confirmed even further what he was saying. He scoffed, drinking the remains of alcohol on Matthias' glass and fixed his hair in the process. "Stop drinking, a hangover won't spare you from our meeting tomorrow".

˚ · • . °

She should've listened. The crashing waves outside only intensified the discomfort, while the salty breeze seemed to carry a tinge of regret. Even the beauty of the sea she was now too used to felt distant and inaccessible, overshadowed by the haze of her post-indulgence remorse.

Nina, taunting Matthias with a mature Ravkan song and Jesper shooting bottles in the warehouse, created an uneasy atmosphere for hungover Y/N. This unsettling environment made it difficult for her to focus on evaluating any potential deals they were to discuss with the privateer Kaz said they were meeting that day. Also, they had been waiting for over an fifteen minutes now! She was surprised Kaz was waiting still.

He checked his pocket watch subtly, sighing at the tardiness of their Ravkan guests. Then, he looked over at Y/N. Even with those deep baggy eyes and with her head on her hands in exasperation, she managed to awaken that odd feeling in his chest. He hated it. No, he despised it.

If he ever accepted that he was down hard for the girl, he could also get over the fact that she, too, liked him. Well, he wasn't dumb! There was no denying that Y/N's actions warmed his heart. He just knew loving was a dangerous thing to do, a weakness he couldn't afford after spending years building a reputation in Ketterdam.

Then came a loud bang on the heave wooden doors of the warehouse. "Fucking finally" Y/N sighed, going to open the door herself before anyone would, wanting nothing but to end this as soon as possible so she could go back home to sleep. She grabbed the handle and pulled, the bright light outside blinding her momentarily before seeing the privateer and his crew.

"Hello gorgeous! Here to see Mr. Brekker. I'm guessing you're one of his associates?" A sharp, slightly deep voice greeted. The girl shielded her eyes from the light and found captain smily offering his hand out. In Ketterdam, rumours ran as quick as blood on pavement; Sturmhond knew that. He needed no introduction. Every person involved in not so legal activities who didn't live under a rock had heard at least once about the dog of the sea.

She took it, shaking gently. "Y/N Y/L/N, but if you prefer nicknames, call me Haepha". Then she stepped aside, pretending not to notice the smirk on Sturmhond's face so his partners could come in. The rumors hadn't done justice to his captivating presence.

The charismatic privateer stood tall, his dark hair falling in unruly waves that added to his allure. His piercing blue eyes seemed to hold a world of secrets, and a mischievous smile played across his lips. Dressed in opulent garments that exuded confidence and flair, Sturmhond commanded attention with every step as his crew and he approached the rest of the crows.

"I'll stick to your name for now doll, too pretty not to use," And the bastard winked at Y/N, making a Shu girl who was walking behind him with the same confidence giggle. The worst thing about pretty men is they know they're pretty, and knew damn well how to get away with being cocky. She knew his type, so she brushed the wink off and walked towards her friends.

Kaz and Sturmhond shook hands. Everyone who was fast enough grabbed a seat in old boxes or even on the floor. Jesper offered Y/N his seat, knowing that the vodka she drank last night was no merciful rival, and stood behind her alongside his boyfriend. Inej lingered sitting in a window near them as Matthias and Nina remained standing, contrary to all the privateers' team.

Kaz started making introductions, all a mere formality, Y/N knew. "You've met Y/N, our inferni. Behind him are Jesper, sharp-shooter, and Wylan, our demo-man. The blonde wall-resembling man over there is Matthias, and Nina is a heartrender. Inej in the window, our Wraith" he pointed, everyone nodding or waving at the dark-haired man.

"A Wraith alright, didn't notice you were there sweetheart!" He pointed out and then introduced the twins; Tolya and Tamar. As well as Anya and Andrei, who were two members of his ship's company who wanted to come by and see who they were working with. When that was taken care of, plans were strategized by both leaders and positions were given to each member.

Y/N knew Kaz was characterized by having plans from A to Z for very elaborate heists, but even this one seemed out of his reach, almost too ambitious. But if Sturmhond's name lived up to the myth, nothing was quite impossible for him and Kaz's love for money could get him to plot even the tiniest detail.

Their objective this time was to steal some kind of jewel called "the moon's tears". It was a gem said to be worth four million kruge, to be bargained for even more; the crows' biggest heist yet. The vault it was in was widely known for its impenetrable security measures, including seemingly impenetrable barriers, intricate lock mechanisms, and a team of highly skilled guards.

Those two were absolutely insane! Even before one considered the noble who owned the vault and therefore the gem they were trying to steal, knew Kaz from the past. It was an extremely peculiar coincidence that a masquerade ball was taking place some distance away from the location of the vault, which represented the perfect opportunity for the work.

This would allow them to exploit the lack of security and sweep the gem away. Nina would ideally take care of the distraction, to keep the nobleman from returning home too quick, but her heartrending abilities would be helpful to make a quick work to make the few officers guarding the vault doze off.

So it became Y/N's job. A job she was to complete with Sturmhond.

After the meeting ended and Y/N's headache had worsened, a deep voice was heard from behind her. She turned to find the charming privateer flashing a smile at her. "Looking forward to working with you, darling" He commented, offering his hand out and all. She took it and shook half-heartedly, eager to just go home and sleep for the rest of the evening.

"Me too, handsome" Irony laced in her tone. "Doesn't seem like it, you alright? You look like a ghost. Lovely, yes, but still ghostly" The comment made her smile, tightening the grasp on his hand but not shaking anymore "Just hungover s'all" "Told you so!" Jesper proclaimed from their side as everyone directed themselves to the door.

The privateer smiled sweetly. "Got any plans this evening?" "Other than rotting in my room until my body stops hurting? Not really. Why?" Y/N looked down briefly, realizing she still hadn't let go of his hand and then released her grasp "Well, if my days at sea have thought me anything other than how to read the stars..." he started, tapping the necklace with a star charm the girl sported.

A "gift" from Kaz (some jewelry that wasn't redeemed from a heist he let her keep). "...is how to cure a hangover. Mind coming with me to a bar? You can decide which". Going to a bar with a complete stranger who had a reputation of being in trouble most of the time and who she were to work with? Sure thing.

"Promise youll make it go away?" "Promise".

˚ · • . °

And what a plot twist he was. Jesper had jokingly said to the girl that she shouldn't take a privateer's word but he did termiante her hangover with some strange, black-ish liquid she didn't dare to ask the composition of. Then they drank more.

As the drinks arrived, they raised their glasses, the clink of crystal breaking the spell of their silent connection. Sturmhond smiled, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "To new adventures and unexpected encounters," he proposed, his voice smooth and velvety.

Y/N couldn't help but return the smile, feeling the warmth of excitement spread through her veins. "To embracing the unknown," she replied, raising her glass in agreement. They took a sip, the flavors dancing on their tongues. A comfortable silence settled between them, allowing the sounds of the bar to envelop them. After a moment, Sturmhond leaned in, his voice low and captivating.

"So, Y/N, what brings you to this lawless corner of the world?". He asked, genuine curiosity lacing his words. Y/N's eyes sparkled as she recounted her journey, the challenges she faced, and the dreams that fueled her determination. Sturmhond listened intently, his attention unwavering, as if she held the secrets of a hidden treasure.

As she spoke, Y/N couldn't help but notice the genuine interest in Sturmhond's eyes. He asked thoughtful questions and shared stories of his own adventures, effortlessly weaving tales of daring escapades that left Y/N hanging on his every word.

The conversation flowed effortlessly, a seamless exchange of ideas, dreams, and aspirations. Time seemed to melt away as they delved into deeper discussions, finding solace in the connection they were building. Laughter intertwined with their words, a symphony of shared amusement and understanding.

They became lost in each other's company, entranced by the way their thoughts aligned and their hearts danced to the same rhythm. And as the night wore on, their conversation continued, their new found connection growing stronger with every passing moment.

She couldn't help but think of Kaz, when exiting the bar, and on the way back to The Slat. When would he ever, in a million years, make her feel so seen? How could he? He seemed to be nothing but cold and a bad type of confusing to the girl.

Y/N was not blind, either. Sturmhond was known for his endless romantic encounters with women across the sea, and he was interested in her. Now, she could not deny the guy was a charming boy too pretty for this Earth, sharp as a knife and, as she found out that evening, shared a lot of ideals and interests with her.

Could he maybe work as a rebound? Maybe. Would she shamelessly use him as that? Could be. Having his eyes on her that whole meeting was no coincidence, and she liked his attention. Maybe what mends a broken heart was a handsome privateer.

They agreed to meet up the next day, his treat.

˚ · • . °

Back at the Slat, Kaz was fuming. No, not fuming; seething. A bar outing? She just met him! He could not believe his eyes when they were talking hand in hand like they had known each other from a previous lifetime.

In the little time that had passed since (most of) the crows had returned from the meeting, Kaz had already gotten four drunks kicked out, death-stared a group of dregs twice so they'd shorten their break time to get them to work and downed four vodka shots.

Why was he this mad? She wasn't even his and as far as she knew; he had no intentions of being hers either. The boy couldn't be mad at her, but he was, and Kaz knew very well he was being a big selfish shit. He could not blame Y/N either; the bastard she had been crushing on gives no signs of interest but a privateer handsome as the devil shows up with his attention completely focused on her? Of course she'd fall.

He just hated that feeling.

It's presence looms, heavy and suffocating, wrapping its tendrils around the heart, constricting with an iron grip. It whispers sweet poison into the mind, distorting reality and fueling irrational fears. Like a tempestuous storm, it rages within, lightning crackling with envy, thunder rumbling with resentment. It paints the world in hues of green, tarnishing every joyous moment with a bitter aftertaste.

And then his heart sunk into the depths of his dark soul when he saw them walk in hand in hand. That was the first time Y/N had walked into a room and not looked for him, he noticed. She was laughing at something Sturmhond had said as they walked up the stairs until they reached the door of Y/N's room. He kissed her hand and she kissed his cheek.

The privateer then walked down the stairs, noticing Kaz staring.

"She's one of a kind, that one... Might stay a bit more after the job's done. See you tomorrow, Brekker"

The feeling was now leaving an empty, bottomless void in his soul. He bottomed his shot glass then poured another one.

˚ · • . °

Time kept ticking and the void intensified, but Kaz learnt how to deal with it.

He learnt how to deal with it when he kissed her after the job was done.

He learnt how to deal with it when Y/N took a break from the crows to leave with him for six months.

He learnt how to deal with it when she returned from her trip, beautiful tan skin and a diamond on her finger.

He learnt how to deal with it when he saw her crying herself to sleep because she missed him.

He learnt how to deal with it when she left for good.

He learnt how to deal with it when she was named queen of Ravka.

Kaz just learnt how to live with the shame and regret of not recognizing that the one thing he needed was right in front of him, hoping she'd have a place next to him.

˚ · • . ° .

Hi! Thank you so much for reading, hope you enjoyed:) I'm actually sorry for this one...

Remember, the best way to support writer’s works on here is by REBLOGGING WITH TAGS. I’d very much appreciate it if you did!

Thanks again, stranger. Hope you have a nice day<3

NO ONE IS ALLOWED TO REPOST AS THEIR OWN/TRANSLATE/OR COPY MY WORK IN ANY PLATFORM OR SPACE WITHOUT MY EXPLICIT CONSENT.

[beautysamour]

Your beauty never ever scared me

Pairing: Nikolai Lantsov x reader

Summary: figuring out you were a descendant of the darkling messed up everything. with all the backlash you received because of this, your self esteem takes a blow. the company of a certain prince causes you to realize that you aren’t the monster you began to think you were.

warnings: some angst but this has a happy ending

a/n: the nikolai brain rot is real 😔🫶 enjoy! Also this is set before it’s revealed that mal is the third amplifier.

No. No, Baghra was wrong. You knew who you were and who your family was, she was wrong.

You’ve been going over the pieces of dialogue you had with Baghra ever since the sun set in your bed- well one of the palace’ bed. You couldn’t wrap your head around the idea of being related to him, to sharing his blood, his power.

To having any connection with the darkling.

You were never discovered by the grisha as a kid. Whenever the testers came by, your parents would give you a small cut somewhere on your body that could easily be hidden and at the time you didn’t think much of it- because you could barely remember them doing that.

You never had a good relationship with your parents so you didn’t think anything of it when they’d hurt you. It was just normal.

You never necessarily feared grisha, but you always feared the Fold and by extension, the power of the darkling. To think that all it would take for the Fold to get worse was to piss him off.

And piss him off you did.

During his little demonstration with Alina in the Fold, he tried to get you to join him thinking that you knew. That interaction finally made sense to you.

Feeling your head start to hurt and feeling even worse after realizing what’s in your blood, you turn off the lights in your room and go to bed.

—

“I hope I’m not ruining your day too much, sweetheart.”

Nikolai woke you up early this morning and asked for you to accompany him on a horse ride, “just for fun.” he said.

You knew better though, Nikolai never batted an eye at you since you boarded his- sturmhond-, ship. Alina was always more interesting. You knew that you were respected once you got the palace though, Tolya continuously singed out praises of your name to the army.

You knew that people in the palace had no problem with your presence, until now. Until people learned that you were grisha. Not everyone knows you’re related to the Darkling however, only a few people know.

Including Nikolai.

So you knew better. You knew that the only reason why you were with him right now is because he was told to keep an eye on you, to supervise you. You were now considered to be scum, as you were grisha.

“Wasn’t planning on doing much today, so I’m fine.”

You heard a soft snicker come from Nikolai’ direction but chose to keep your eyes forward and focused on the path in front of you two.

“Right,” he says with a slight grin on his face, “I’m glad, I’d never want to ruin a pretty girls’ mood.” From your peripheral you could see Nikolai observing you, looking for a reaction. He’s use to the normal flush of the cheeks and a stutter through a sentence, but you had no reaction to hearing him call you pretty. He had a rather flirty personality so his words meant nothing to you.

You remained silent hoping he would drop the conversation. You didn’t have anything against Nikolai, you actually really liked him. You could tell that he was going to be the king that Ravka needs.

But there was too much on your mind for you to be able to have small talk.

Nikolai suddenly let out a distressed sigh, “I have a meeting to get to sweetheart, if Vasily wasn’t getting on my back every hour of the day I would’ve stayed all day out here with you,” he pulls the reigns on his horse and turns towards the palaces’ direction, “let’s go back?” He gives you a small guilty smile and tilts his head resembling a puppy begging for a treat.

You nod feeing glad that you’ll be able to fully indulge in your thoughts and pull the reigns on your horse, riding back to the palace.

—

“She’s a monster!”

Nikolai was tempted to raise his voice, he and Vasily have been at it for the past hour. Yesterday, news got out that you were grisha- the soldiers gossip- and Vasily immediately told Nikolai that he should make you leave. Nikolai fought back against that idea and to get Vasily to shut up for at least a day about you, he agreed to “spy” on you.

“Nothing has changed, she’s still the same person Tolya constantly praised, and that you wanted as your bride.”

Nikolai did not want to have this conversation again. You were still the same girl he met on the ship, the two of you may have not interacted as much but he still saw you.

You were nothing like the Darkling and he had no problem reminding his brother of how infatuated he was with you.

“That was before I realized she was his kin, a monster just like him!” Nikolai clenched his jaw, finding it harder to control his raising temper. Vasily paced around his room, repeatedly mumbling out curses in the remembrance of previously touching you.

He was disgusted and he, like many other people in the palace, wanted you gone. He stopped pacing when Nikolai straightened his back before getting up from his chair and walking to the door of the room, indicating that this little meeting was over. “Nikolai,” Vasily called out in a strained voice, “Think about the people.”

Nikolai felt his body freeze. Think about the people. Oh, he was thinking about the people. You were no threat, maybe to your enemies but not his people. Not wanting to lash out at his brother, Nikolai took a sharp breath and rolled his shoulders back. “Good night, brother,” he decides to say. He faces his body towards him and while still trying to keep his composure, he sends his brother a sharp glare with eyes filled with pure irritation, “I will not change my mind.”

—

You pressed your head further into your pillow trying to block out the obnoxious knocks that were coming from your door. Who could possibly already be in need of your presence?

After a few more seconds of the continuous knocks getting more aggressive and louder, you gave in to the persistent demands for you to open the door and got up.

“It’s really quite early,” you said through loose lips. You abruptly finished your sentence, a slight feeling of panic rushing into your body. Nikolai Lantsov. He was here again, the people must be getting more weary of you if he felt the need to visit you again.

You didn’t bother fixing up your hair or straightening out your evening wear before opening the door and you greatly regretted not doing so at the moment, you dropped your shoulders feeling embarrassed that he saw you in an unprofessional state.

He put on a slight smile in attempt to charm you, which he succeeded at, you internally pushed away that feeling of giddiness and straightened your posture waiting for him to speak.

“Yes it is quite early, that’s why I came here,” his eyes trail down your body and back up to your eyes before outstretching an arm, “breakfast?”

“Uh,” you stutter out, “sure, just let me…clean myself up.” You awkwardly moved your gaze from him trying to avoid how awkward this situation was as you closed your door- his was mid sentence in saying of course he’ll wait- but your door closed before he was able to finish.

You sat down in the chair that was in front of a middle sized mirror just above the table. You stared at your reflection for a few seconds before bringing your hands up to cover your face and curling your body into yourself. You much prefer not having the Prince’ attention.

—

It’s been a little over three months since Nikolai invited you for breakfast and you’ve begun to question his actual intentions.

He comes to your room each morning and invites you for breakfast and shares most of his hours with you, but all of these hangouts tend to follow your own terms.

If you wanted to go back to your room, Nikolai would simply walk you to your room, kiss the back of your hand, and continue his day without you. Usually you’d be the one to reach out to him during these days if you decided you wanted to be outside your room again.

You almost forgot that he had a duty as being a prince and that you were related to their current number one enemy. And you almost forgot that people still feared grisha. Almost.

People talk and rumors spread fast, you and Nikolai weren’t invisible whenever you two walked around the palace grounds. Inevitably people began to gossip.

Nikolai was always with you, he spoke of finding a bride openly around you which has caused some people to theorize about your relationship with him. The most common theory was that you were using him, that you used your grisha powers as a threat against him, that you would hurt the people if he did not enter a romantic relationship with you.

You tried to block them out. Nikolai never brought those rumors up so you assumed he just never heard them, well you weren’t going to be the one to tell him about it. What if he hears them then realizes that they might be right, that he was an idiot for ever letting his guard down around you.

As much as you tried to ignore it, you couldn’t deny the way your heart would race every morning, every time he knocked on your door and offered his arm. Every time he’d invite you into his personal quarters and give you that stupid smile paired with a tilt of his head that made you want to do anything he’d ask of you.

He made you feel like you weren’t a monster, that you weren’t a threat. You didn’t want to loose his trust, and you didn’t want to loose him. The amount of trust he has put in you threw you in for a loop, you’ve been constantly arguing with yourself over whether or not he’s being genuine or is still keeping an eye on you.

You couldn’t fault him if he was just doing this to keep an eye on you still, the Darkling has been visiting you, just like he was been with Alina.

“Sweetheart?”

You immediately tore your eyes away from the food in front of you after hearing his voice. In front of you; Nikolai was leaning slightly forward his eyebrows furrowed giving his face a worried expression.

“Yes?” You replied. You don’t know how long it’s been since you zoned out, but when you pick up your silver ware to put some of the food in your mouth it was cold.

Nikolai let out a breath that you didn’t realize he was holding, “Did you hear what I said?”

Shit.

You opened your mouth to say a lie, yes, but you knew that he’d immediately call your bluff. He was observant, too observant sometimes. He had a talent for reading people.

“No,” you decided to say, “sorry, I zoned out.”

He leaned back in his chair and relaxed his eyebrows, sighing while running a hand through his hair. “I’ve been telling you about my day and you zone out? Do I really not matter to you?” He whines.

Nikolai had a thing for theatrics, especially when it was to tease someone. Seeing that you had no regret in your gaze towards him, he lets out another breath and gives in to the smile he was holding back.

“That’s alright, this means that I can spend more time with you.” His wholesome smile now turning into a flirtatious grin, he puts his forearms on the table and leans closer to your face, “I do quite enjoy your company anyways.” His smile slightly drops as his eyes also fall to your lips then back to your eyes.

Lately you two have been having more moments like this, where the two of you fall into moments like these where Nikolai’ flirting feels more genuine.

The one thing that hasn’t changed throughout these few months of you two hanging out was that you knew better. Flirting was a regular thing for Nikolai, and because of that you let out a laugh causing Nikolai to lean back; seeming to now be avoiding your gaze.

“Nikolai, don’t tell me you’ve fallen for me? The big bad grisha,” you tease. You felt a little disappointed at seeing that he was avoiding your gaze, Nikolai wasn’t the type to back away from flirting. You lean forward on the table, “Saints Nikolai, if you’re going to flirt then at least commit to it.”

Taking your teasing tone as a dare, he returned his gaze to you and leaned forward on the table coming dangerously close to your face. This time you were taken aback, and ever the observer, he saw. He accompanied his smug expression with a smirk, “Is that what you want? For me to commit? To you.” His voice turned into a whisper as he finished his sentence.

He waited for you to do something. He wanted to see how long you’d last, for what exactly, well only Nikolai really knows that.

You counted your heartbeats, and three heartbeats later Nikolai dropped his gaze and turned his head as he let out a snicker, “Just messing around princess,” he straightened his back and got out of his seat, “we leave before sundown.”

You watched as he left the dining area, a little confused at what he meant about leaving before sundown but then you remembered; the mission.

“Shit.”

—

“Nikolai,” you called out to him as you walked into his tent, “why is my tent all the way on the other side of camp?”

This mission really wasn’t that dangerous compared to everything else that was going on but you didn’t want to gamble Nikolai’ life, since he was a prince.

“Good evening to you to sweetheart,” he said in a lighthearted tone before putting down the letter in his hand, “can’t keep your mind off of me?”

He was right, you couldn’t.

You let out a scoff slightly annoyed, “What if you get attacked? And I’m all the way on the other side of camp- I wouldn’t be able to help!”

Mirroring his actions earlier in the day, his refused to meet your gaze as he leaned back in his chair. “If I were to get attacked, you’d be safe. I have people with me- fighters who’ll be able to protect me if I somehow am not able to protect myself. You don’t need to worry.”

You exhaled as you felt yourself deflate. You wanted to say more but you knew that it wouldn’t matter once the conversation ended. All you would’ve succeeded at was creating some unnecessary tension between the two of you, with you being annoyed, which Nikolai thought was already out of character with you getting upset about something so small, and Nikolai being busy.

You glanced back at him before turning around to leave his tent, resembling a toddler who got upset after hearing they couldn’t get a toy they wanted.

Hearing your footsteps get further away, Nikolai lifted his head and furrowed his eyebrows in confusion before shaking his head and picking up the letter again.

—

Nikolai lifted his head from his desk as soon as he heard a deafening scream, immediately on high alert and running out of his tent. The first thing that greeted Nikolai were soldiers running. Tents were on fire and the once peaceful camp was now overwhelmed with chaos.

Instead of his first thought being to get his people out of this ambushed camp, which was his second, he wanted to get to you. Now he regretted putting your tent on the other side of camp, now he had no idea where you were or if you were ok.

He started running to your side of the camp before getting blocked by a drüskelle-

“Desjenet!” yelled out the drüskelle. Nikolai began to reach out for his sword but made no action to take it out yet. “I’m not grisha-“

“But you protect them,” seethed out the drüskelle, “you are an enemy if you protect them.”

Not leaving anytime for Nikolai to respond, the drüskelle lunged forward but was never able to make contact with Nikolai. The man began to sway before falling apart. His head, upper body, and lower body all disconnect from each other as he falls to the ground, a dark wisp of smoke fading into the air as he does.

Nikolai didn’t take much time looking at the corpse in front of him when he heard another scream, forcing him to look up and see who was responsible for the death.

You. There you are standing in front of him, seemingly frozen in place and regret immediately floods into your veins. You just killed some using his power. You looked up at Nikolai and suddenly felt the need to throw up. So much to not wanting him to see you as a monster.

Nikolai, remembering that someone screamed, moved his gaze to the soldier a few feet away from you who had seemed to have seen you kill a man using the Darkling’ power. “Monster…” the soldier whimpered out before running away.

Nikolai had the urge to curse out his soldier but swallowed that urge down, the camp was still on fire and the two of you needed to get out. He ran over to you and grabbed you by the arm. “Are you alright,” he asks. You avoid his gaze. When you don’t answer he begins to start running, with his hand still on your arm dragging you through the camp, trying to find a horse.

He felt you stiffen and he felt you resist your urge to pull away from him. He wanted to look back at you, to talk to you face to face and assure himself that you’re alright but he decides against it. You guys will talk once you get back to the little palace.

—

You’ve been in Nikolai’ personal quarters before but you’ve never been on his bed. You’re sure your thoughts would’ve been completely incoherent if you weren’t so caught up about using the cut.

Saints, you were truly a monster.

Nikolai entered the room, he was checking up with his soldiers and making sure everyone or at least most of the people who were at the camp came back here. If there were any that didn’t, a rescue squad was already sent out.

You didn’t bother to look at Nikolai as he sat down on the edge of his bed next to you. You couldn’t look at him, you didn’t even want him to speak. You couldn’t bare to hear him call you a monster-

“Are you alright,” he says instead.

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”

He chuckles. You thought you’d never hear that again, you never he thought he’d bring you back to the palace.

“I’m alright. Now, are you going to give me an answer?”

You don’t give him an answer for a few seconds. Then suddenly the confusion become to hard to contain, “Why did you bring me back here?”

He turns his head to you and tilts it, now being the confused one, “You’re one of my soldiers, why would I not?”

“Because I’m a monster!” You blurt out. You don’t get why he cared, and now you’re really questioning if he was just spying on you the entire time or not, it seems like he was not.

“I’m not just a grisha Nikolai, I’m related to the enemy, I used to his power to kill someone right in front of you! Now everyone in the palace knows I’m related to him, all the soldiers are weary of me and it makes it even worse that I’m close to you. You’re reputation is getting corrupted because you’ve been seen with me.”

He doesn’t answer, he just keeps his eyes on you and lets you continue.

“The people think I’m- that I’m using my power to manipulate you and seeing how you had no reaction to me using the cut, they might come to some stupid conclusion that you’re actually conspiring with the enemy-“

“Y/N.” He finally interrupts, “Is that what’s been on your mind for these past few months?”

The last time he called you by your name was when he was Sturmhond. Hearing him call you by your name succeeded at making your heart ache even more.

“Yes,” you say, “so I don’t understand why I’m still here.”

You turn your head to meet his eyes and regret it immediately. The amount of intensity in his eyes is enough to make you choke on your saliva.

“Do you want to take a shower?” He asks. You can’t figure out if he’s trying to change the topic or maybe you just smell that bad. Maybe changing the topic is what you needed before you end up having a full on mental break down in front of him.

“Ok,” you whisper. Nikolai gets up and walks to his bathroom, soon you hear the sound of water entering his bathtub. Noticing that you didn’t follow him, Nikolai sticks his head out of his bathroom and gestures you to come into his bathroom.

Even though the atmosphere was rather uncomfortable, you still…liked him. So being invited into such a personal space still managed to make you shy.

Nikolai is leaning against his bathtub when you enter his bathroom. Hearing you enter, Nikolai lifts his head up to look at you then glances at your face, your hair, and your body before getting up to give you some alone time.

Getting a random surge of boldness you grab his hand and keep him in place. He turns his head to look at you and tilts his head in confusion, once again resembling a puppy.

“Can you…stay,” you cringe internally after hearing those words come out and avoid his gaze as you feel your cheeks flush. You hear a cough, as if someone was trying to stifle a laugh.

“Ok.”

You’re thankful that he doesn’t tease you for asking him to stay, the atmosphere is still rather uncomfortable for that.

He keeps his back turned to give you some privacy as you undress. Once you finish undressing, you fold your clothes and tuck them into a corner that you were sure wouldn’t get wet.

You cleared your throat once you fully got into the tub, “You can turn around now.”

From your peripheral, you see Nikolai sit down on a stool that was right next to his bathtub. “Do you need help cleaning yourself?” He asks.

You should’ve shaken your head because you’re fully capable of cleaning yourself, but you couldn’t fight back the giddiness in you that manifested at the thought of a physically intimate moment with Nikolai. So you nod.

Nikolai picks up a small towel and rubs it on a bar of soap before putting it on your body. You hoped he wasn’t able to see your red face as you flushed even more when he started moving the towel.

“You aren’t a monster.” He says instead once again, “You haven’t changed at all,” you turned your head to look at him but he didn’t meet your eyes, his eyes focused on your body as he cleaned it. “You’re still the same girl that boarded Sturmhond’ ship. You’re still caring, and thoughtful. You still overthink and stress too much on what other people think of you, but you’re also confident at the same time. You know your worth and you simply want to make sure other people do to.” He moves you hair out of the way as he moves the towel to the back of your neck.

“Actually maybe you aren’t the same girl I met. But you’re not to blame for that.” You didn’t think it was possible but your heartbeat began to thump even harder at feeling his hand, even though it was separated by a towel, on your neck. Oh, and also by his words. You didn’t think he noticed you that much when he was Sturmhond.

Suddenly he looked up and you looked away.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuc-

“You aren’t the Darkling. You saved me. Well I mean, drüskelle are strong, I admit, but they wouldn’t have been able to kill me.”

You could hear the grin on his face, it was attempt to lighten the mood, to see if you felt better.

“You’re power doesn’t determine what you are, Y/N, how you use it determines that. And as far as I’m concerned, you haven’t used it unjustly.” He curled his index finger under your chin and put his thumb on your chin to turn your head, so you’d finally be looking at him. “Don’t let your fear of your power determine your worth.”

Your breath hitched in your throat as you got lost in his eyes. Yes, you were listening to him and it made your heart ache in a good way at hearing his words, but feeling his touch made it difficult to concentrate.

“Ok,” you whispered. You looked down, fully processing his words. You weren’t a monster. You weren’t a monster.

You weren’t a monster.

Noticing the sides of your lips slowly lift, Nikolai felt a small smile form on his face and lets go of your face. He failed to see how the sides of your lips slightly went down.

Feeling that the atmosphere felt more light, you attempted to make a joke, “Well, are you just going to sit there?”

“Hm?” Nikolai raises an eyebrow at your question. Did you want him out…?

“You’re not going to join me?”

Without missing a beat, Nikolai speaks up, “Do you want me to?” It wasn’t meant to be teasing, but it easily came off as such.

Fully expecting Nikolai to say something a little more…bold, his nonchalant yet teasing question caused you to look away from him, again, feeling embarrassed at your bold “joke.”

Nikolai lets out a laugh that makes you swoon. Saints, the affect this man had on you was embarrassing.

“Saints Y/N, if you’re going to flirt then at least commit to it.” He says, mirroring your previous conversation.

You turn your head back at him and take a moment to figure out what you want to say in return, you decide to say something you’ve heard before. Leaning slightly towards him but still managing to cover your cleavage, you say, “Is that what you want? For me to commit? To you.”

Nikolai freezes completely, not sure how to react to that. Yes, he wants you to commit, he wants you, but do you want him? He’s sure that he’s been interpreting your feelings as romantic correct, but he still had that thought of just maybe, maybe he was wrong.

Nikolai was never one to back off from a challenge however, so he leans forward and rests his forearms of his knees; leaning in closer to your face, “Yes,” he says, “I do.”

He brings one his hands up to the side of your face and cups it, leaning in closer but leaving enough room to still be able to back away if he was reading this all wrong. He looks into your eyes and practically pleads for your approval, for you to let him kiss you.

When all you do is lean closer, Nikolai fully closes the distance and connects his lips with yours.

As one could expect from a kiss with Nikolai, it was passionate and loving and deep. You could feel how deep his feelings for you ran and you could feel all of his feelings. Growing impatient, for some reason, Nikolai grabbed the back of you neck to deepen the kiss. He brought his other hand up to your bottom lip and brushed it down. Realizing what he wanted, you opened your mouth and to your surprise; Nikolai whined into the kiss.

Finding it funny that Nikolai was a whiner, you began to laugh. It started with small giggles but then turned into actual laughs causing Nikolai to pull away and slightly deadpan at you.

When you didn’t stop laughing, Nikolai leaned back and let out a sigh, opting to just let you finish laughing.

“Sorry, sorry, just didn’t take you as a whiner,” you say before you burst out laughing again.

Nikolai continued to watch you laugh with a slightly annoyed, but adoring, expression before brushing your hair out of your face. “You know, you never answered my question.”

You wipe fake tears out of your eyes as you try to calm down, “huh?”

“When I asked if you wanted me to commit to you, you never gave me an answer.”

“I think my answer is quite obvious now.” You let out a soft laugh before Nikolai spoke again.

“Yes well, I want to hear it.” Nikolai leans forwards again but not as close as before, just close enough to where he could you whisper yell, “I want to hear that you want me.” He finishes with a slight smirk.

You look away from him, getting flustered again. He really wanted to hear you profess your feelings for him, huh.

As you were getting flustered you remembered that Nikolai was a whiner. As much as you wanted Nikolai, he was arguably more desperate for you. So why not tease him a little more?

You leaned forward again, not bothering to cover your cleavage anymore, and pressed your lips onto his, but not necessarily kissing him. “Alright my prince,” you whisper out. The smirk on his lips immediately drop as he tries to kiss you again but then you pull away, and before he could whine again, you leaned forward again. “I want you to commit to me. I want you.” Nikolai could barely focus at feeling your lips brush onto his, feeling as if he didn’t kiss you right here right now, he’d go crazy.

Feeling smug, you pull away from him to which he immediately follows. He puts his hand on the back of your neck once again and pulls you forward, connecting your lips again.

He groaned this time at the feeling of your lips on his.

[d0wnb4df0rf1cm3n]

Still be here in the morning?

Nikolai Lantsov x F!Reader

Summary: You drive Nikolai wild. You want him to see you, to see you, but you're scared. If you give in to your desires and you let yourself fall, will he still be there in the morning?

Word Count: 2.9K

Warnings: SMUTTY SMUT, LOTS OF SMUT, lots of teasing, a lil bit of angst, and some fluff. Also the reader's nickname is Mouse - but it's not a size thing, it's an occupation thing *thumbs up emoji*

Author's Note: This started off as a smut thing but became a whole story thing so enjoy ;D

It was safe to say you drove Nikolai wild. You hardly listened to his rules, questioning your Captain in his every decision and driving him crazy with your constant bickering. You knew that you could, you were Nikolai's star crewmate and he would never risk firing you. No one was a better diplomat, marksman, or sailor - except perhaps Nikolai himself. You were a good detective too - you were the only one of his crew to have figured out his true identity.

You had teased him about it on a brief visit to West Ravka - an old family painting had given it all away.

"You'll never guess what I found, Cap." You said, waltzing into his quarters and jumping up onto his desk. He tilted his face up to you - indicating that he was listening - but kept his eyes focused on the maps laid in front of him, studying new routes out west. You were only docked in Os Kervo to collect a round of new supplies - enough to keep you afloat to Novyi Zem or even further.

"Tell me, Mouse. What have you found that is so worth sharing that you break into my quarters?" He used the affectionate nickname you had picked up since joining the crew - you were quiet, almost undetectable when need by. Of course, Nikolai knew how annoying and boisterous you could get when you were comfortable. Still, the nickname had stuck. In fact, you were almost certain that aside from Nikolai, and the twins, no one could remember your true name. It didn't matter. You had moved on from that life.

"Well, Tolya and I spent most of our afternoon in the galleries in Os Kervo-"

"-leaving Tamar to collect the supplies? Yes, I heard about that. Just because you keep us out of trouble with the law does not mean that you get to delegate all your duties to someone else. We work together, Mouse, you'd do well to remember it."

"Yes, yes, she said she was fine with it. Something about getting Tolya's poetic arse off her back for a few hours," Nikolai chuckled at that, "And anyway, the interesting thing is what I found in the galleries. You see, despite the Fold, West Ravka is still a united nation-"

"I'm aware."

"Stop interrupting me!" You swatted him with a loose piece of paper on his desk, "It's rude. You'd have thought that you had some manners - what with your pretentious nature."

"Is there a point to this, Mouse? Because I suggest you get there soon."

"Well, what I was saying was, I came across a portrait. A new one - well, sort of. It had the King - Pyotr, that is - and his wife, and their sons. Did you know that they had 2? I had simply forgotten." A cheeky grin had snuck onto your face and Nikolai was now looking directly at you. You leaned in close to his ear, "I'd say they did the younger son a disservice, wouldn't you? Your Highness?"

Nikolai moved swiftly, clamping his hand down over your mouth. "Does Tolya know?"

You move his hand off your mouth, "Of course not. I'm not one to be going around spreading rumours that are not mine to spread."

"Good. And you're going to keep it that way. Especially if you want to stay on this ship."

"Oh, Nikolai. You're not going to fire me. You won't risk having the biggest threat to your secret not on your side. I'm a diplomat - I know how intimidation works," Nikolai fixes you with a stare, "Ok, I was a diplomat, whatever. Semantics. Point is, you're not going to fire me. Your secrecy depends on it."

After that day, your teasing had increased ten-fold and Nikolai's patience with you had decreased just as much. He hardly spoke to you if he didn't have orders to give you. And it pissed you off.

To be perfectly honest, you made his blood boil. Nikolai didn't know what it was about you, but you knowing who he was had tipped him over the edge. He thought that he was untraceable - a new persona, a new look. He'd made a point to never dock in Ravka - but needs must and there was no way they'd survive a trip to Kerch. They'd been running on fumes. To be honest, the trip had gone better than expected. But of all the people to find out, it just had to be you. He stewed alone in his chambers. They were currently in Novyi Zem, planning to head further west. Ravka had no power further west than Novyi Zem, a notion which many - including you - were grateful for.

He'd never taken the time to understand what you were running from - almost everyone in his crew was running from some demon, but you had never once let slip who you were before you joined Sturmhond's crew. He knew that you were a diplomat of some kind and that you were half-Ravkan, but beyond that, you were a mystery to him. Perhaps that's what pissed him off. That you knew exactly who he was and who he had been and he knew nothing about you.

A knock came at his door. Who the fuck could that be? To his knowledge, everyone was out partying in the taverns. Who could resist a peaceful night out when you spent every other night on a ship sailing in the middle of an ocean? Nikolai could. And so could this mystery person apparently. Nikolai opened his door before the guest knock again, groaning when he caught sight of who it was. You were standing at his door - coat and boots discarded and your shirt haphazardly untied. You pushed past him and made yourself comfortable in his chair, smiling as he ran a hand over his face.

"Awhh, don't look too happy to see me, Sturmhond. Or should I say, Nikolai?" You'd taken to teasing him in the privacy of his room, where you were sure no one could hear you.

"What do you want, Mouse?"

"I just wanted to see how my dear Majesty was holding up. It has been a rough week for us all."

"Cut the bullshit. I know you're here to piss me off. Not tonight, Mouse. Please."

"Ooh. I like it when you beg. Do it again." You grinned at him. You knew you were getting under his skin.

"I said not tonight. Get out, Mouse. Go piss off some drunkard in a tavern." Nikolai said, nearly pushing you out of the door. "Maybe he can fuck the attitude out of you," he whispered under his breath.

"Make me."

"I'm sorry, what?" Nikolai said, turning around to face you again.

"I said, make me, Lantsov."

"I told you to stop fucking using that name," Nikolai growled, pushing you up against the wall, his arm pushing under your boob. You flushed pink, heat pooling in your stomach.

Nikolai grinned, "Oh, I see." He looked you up and down, scanning your figure. You could feel your underwear soak with every second of his gaze.

"What do you see, Captain? Need me to get you a spyglass. Could help you-" You were cut off by Nikolai's lips on yours. They were soft, gentle, and yet demanding at the same time. It was nice. This was nice.

"Is that what you wanted, Mouse? Attention from your Captain?" The honourific felt dirty coming from his mouth. You felt the desire to push him further - to piss him off until he gave you what you wanted. What you needed.

"Are you sure it's not what you wanted Captain? You seem to be a lot more excited by this than I am."

Nikolai nearly growled at that, attaching his lips to yours again, before slipping your belt off. He slipped his hands down to your core, feeling the wetness and smirking.

"Not as excited as me, huh?" He rubbed a circle around your clit and watched your defenses crumble. You grabbed a fistful of his jacket in your hand as your hips bucked away from him.

Nikolai lifted you up easily, depositing you on his desk, "I wanted to fuck you that day. When you hopped up on this desk and threatened me the first time. Should've done it. Should've shown you exactly who the boss is around here."

He grabbed the small knife he kept in his breast pocket off the desk and flicked it open. You gasped. Nikolai grazed the knife against the outside of your hip, slicing cleanly through your underwear. You were glad you'd taken off your stays earlier - you weren't sure if you could survive him ruining your most comfortable stays.

He placed a gentle kiss on your throat before pulling your shirt off. He gazed at you, momentarily starstruck, before latching his mouth onto your nipple. A hand came up to toy with the other, and you dissolved into a moaning mess.

He pulled away from your nipple to grin at your state. You looked at him breathlessly, grinning, "Is that all you've got, Lantsov."

His stare turned dark. He dove down and buried himself in your pussy. He licked and nipped, flicking your clit with his tongue. He played you like a well-tuned instrument. He fucked your hole with his tongue - alternating between stroking your walls with his tongue and sucking on your clit.

Your orgasm washed over you unexpectedly, sending waves of pleasure through your veins. You clamped your thighs around Nikolai's head, throwing your head back as you cried out.

Nikolai lifted his head up, eyes glinting dangerously, wetness smeared all around his lips. He looked devious. In that moment, he was not Nikolai Lantsov, spare to the Lantsov name, but Sturmhond, masterful privateer, Captain of Volkvolny. You loved him for it.

"You've caused me a lot of trouble, Mouse."

"What are you going to do about it?" You bit your lip, hiding a smirk.

He threw his coat off, carrying you towards his bed. You were lucky that no one else was on board - if they heard what was going on you'd never live it down.

Nikolai laid you on the bed, stripping his clothes off at extraordinary speed. He was quickly inside you, eliciting whimpers from you at every movement. He gave you a moment to adjust before he started to thrust. His hips snapped into you at an ungodly pace and it was all that you could do to not fall apart on his cock.

Nikolai grinned at your silence, his eyes scanning over you. Your face was blissed out, eyes rolling to the back of your head every so often. Sweat glistened on your skin, as you rocked forwards at the force of his every thrust. He couldn't help the small praises that fell from his lips as you moaned lowly.

"Look at you, so fucking beautiful under me, spread out for me like a whore. That's what you are, my beautiful little whore." You moaned at the filth dripping out of his mouth, "What's wrong, sweetheart? Have I fucked the little mouse stupid? No words left to taunt me now, huh?" You moaned softly, your mouth almost stuck in the shape of an 'O'. "Maybe I should do this more often, keep you quiet for longer." You nodded your head, head too foggy to come up with another smart-ass response.

Your second and third orgasms crashed over you in quick succession - Nikolai clamped his hand over your mouth as you screamed 'Nikolai' over and over again. He promised that next time he'd fuck that name out of your brain, before pulling out and cumming all over your chest.

You lay on his bed - dazed from the intense fucking you just received. You were surprised to find yourself alone in Nikolai's bed - he'd disappeared moments after cumming. He'd said something but you were still coming down from your last high when he moved away. You began to spiral. Of course, he was only fucking you to teach you a lesson - why else would he be interested in you? You idiot! He's the prince of fucking Ravka and the Captain of this ship. What do you have that would interest him, apart from your bratty mouth and attitude? He said it himself - the attitude pissed him off.

You were startled when something cold made contact with your chest. You looked up to find Nikolai with something in his hand - a wet washcloth, maybe? - and a sheepish grin on his face. He was still naked, his hair still tousled and his face still flushed. An involuntary beam broke out across your face. He didn't leave you after all.

Nikolai was taken by surprise at the tears that gathered on your lash line. He pulled you up into his chest when you were clean, sitting on the edge of his bed with you held tightly in his arms.

"Hey, hey, hey." He said, drawing mindless shapes on your back as tears streamed down your face, "What's wrong? Did I hurt you?" He was confused - surely, if he hurt you, you wouldn't be seeking comfort in him.

His heart slowed slightly when you shook your head, but the confusion remained.

"Talk to me, Mouse. What's going on in that pretty little head of yours?"

"It's stupid."

"It's not. If it matters to you, then it matters to me. Tell me, whatever it is, I'll fix it." Another wave of emotion washed over you. You climbed into his lap and he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his chest.

"I thought you were mad." You whispered quietly, almost hoping he wouldn't hear you and that he would let it go.

"Why would I be mad?"

"You left." You shrugged, "You left and I thought you were gone for good." He pressed a kiss to your temple and pulled your head into his chest.

"Oh, Mouse. For all your genius, you are oblivious." You looked up at him, confused. "I love you, Mouse. I always have." You shook your head, "What?"

"You're just saying that." You said, tears filling your lash line again as you tried to pull away, "You're just saying that 'cause you fucked me and you don't want me to leave." You tried to move out of his arms but he held you firmly. You hit his chest, trying to force yourself off him, but he stood his ground. Eventually, you just melted into his arms - he held you as you cried, hands stroking your hair soothingly.

You calmed down slowly, chest heaving as you tried to replenish your lungs. You stayed relaxed in his arms. He laid his head on top of yours. "Wanna tell me what that was about?"

You shook your head.

"Do you trust me?"

You nodded your head.

"Do you trust me enough to believe me when I say I love you?"

You hesitated.

"Well, we've found our problem."

"You don't love me."

"How do you know? You been inside my head? Pretty sure even Grisha can't do that." You chuckled.

"You hate me. You can't even look at me - let alone talk to me for long enough to fall in love with me."

"I can't look at you because if I start looking I'll never look away. I can't talk to you because I look like a fool every time I try and string two words together in front of you. Ask Tolya - he'll tell you how hopelessly in love with you I am. And for someone who's not interested in romance, he's a fucking hopeless romantic." His words involuntarily brought a smile onto your face.

You looked into his eyes, "You're sure you love me?"

"Honey, you drive me wild."

You nestled into his arms, and he leaned you both back onto the bed. Your head hit his pillow and suddenly you're surrounded by him. His arms wrap around you tightly, his pillow smells like him, his face is right next to yours. It's nice. Comforting.

You looked up into his face, studying his features while he slept. He was pretty - objectively. His face was long - pointy. Someone had done a terrible job of fixing his broken nose - but it seemed off at a second glance. He seemed so different than the paintings in the gallery - more difference than age alone could bring. His eyes were the giveaway - they were muddy green at first glance but under the right light and if you stared long enough, they were the same hazel green as the ones in the painting. You reached up to stroke his face. How long would this all last? How long until he wouldn't be able to play pretend anymore? How long until he had to go back to being Prince Nikolai Lantsov of Ravka? How long did you have with him in this beautiful bubble that you had created? You could already hear the rest of the crew filtering in from their nights out.

A hand came up to wrap around yours, "Sleep, Mouse. I'll still be here in the morning."

You smiled. He'd still be here in the morning.

fin.

[downbadf0rficppl]

still here in the evening

Nikolai Lantsov x Reader

Summary: Part 2 of still here in the morning - Nikolai's mad at you. You don't know why. Maybe an injury will help secrets come to life?

Word Count: 2.2K

Warnings: Violence - guns, gangs and bullets, Blood, Injury, Misunderstandings.

The wind whipped through your hair as you looked out over the deck. You were less than half a day’s travel away from West Ravka - where you’d dock and stock up on supplies before heading back out to Novyi Zem.

You sighed. The past few weeks had been weird - ever since you and Nikolai had woken up together, he’d been ignoring you. It was almost as if you’d ceased to exist for him. No matter. Things should be back to normal after this stop in West Ravka. You could both forget it ever happened. 

It was almost midnight when you finally tethered the ship to a dock in Os Kervo. Tamar and Tolya grabbed your arms and practically dragged you to a local inn to celebrate. You’d had a lot of successful missions over the past few months, and just because the Captain was opposed to any kind of revelry, doesn’t mean you should be. 

You knew the truth. Nikolai was too scared of being discovered here in West Ravka - where people still knew what the monarchy looked like, even if they had been hidden away on the other side of the fold for years. Still, you let Tamar and Tolya drag you away and had a few beers to celebrate. Maybe more than a few beers. 

Meanwhile, Nikolai was sat at his desk on the ship, nursing a pint of ale. He’d tried to distract himself with work - checking the ship’s logs and inventory, making a detailed list of everything they needed before they set off on their next adventure. This would be their longest trip yet, and they were going to need a lot of supplies, especially if they kept picking up new teammates. It wasn’t enough.

His mind kept drifting back to you. Mouse. His Mouse. Nikolai couldn’t recall when you went from being just another shipmate, to the only person who was ever on his mind, but he wasn’t complaining. Still, the words that passed between you and Tolya rung clear in his head.

“He’s no one… Someone from back home.” You didn’t like him like that. You were waiting from someone back home.

Nikolai shook his head trying to clear his mind. Obviously, a girl like you had someone waiting for them back home. That was why you chose to take an extra long pit stop every time you were back on Zemeni soil. It was obvious, wasn’t it? He turned back to his logs, trying to catalogue everything they had done over the past few months since they had been here in Os Kervo. 

He had thought you were the one. The past few weeks had been difficult, trying to avoid conversation with you, trying to avoid being under your gaze. Nikolai knew that he had no self-control when it came to you - one look in his direction and he’d crumble again. And he deserved better than someone who just used him to ‘break his 'I don't sleep with crewmates' rule.’

He should’ve known something was up when you disappeared from his bed in the middle of the night, he thought, putting his journals away for safe-keeping and taking another swig of his ale. People don’t just disappear when they actually like someone.

He just didn’t think you capable of leading someone on so maliciously.

But maybe he read the signs wrong. You never explicitly said you wanted to sleep with him, did you? Nikolai racked his brains for anything you’d said to give him that impression, but nothing came to mind. Maybe his own feelings clouded his judgment. 

Nikolai took another swig of his ale. The light buzz that accompanied every thought of you now made him reckless. Nikolai clenched his jaw, determination etched across his face, as he set out towards the bar where Tamar and Tolya had taken you, his mind racing with concern and unresolved questions. The dimly lit streets of Os Kervo blurred around him. He just wanted to get to you.

You slipped out of the bar, your heart pounding in your chest as you tried to keep your steps light and silent. Tamar and Tolya were relentless, always watching, trying to stop you from seeing Nikolai. They insisted that he wasn’t worth your time, that he was just in a bad mood, though they wouldn’t tell you why. 

The moon hung high and cold above the narrow streets of Os Kervo, casting long shadows in the alleys. You didn’t dare look back, afraid that one glance would reveal your escape to Tamar and Tolya. The bar’s raucous laughter and clinking glasses faded behind you, swallowed by the city’s nighttime murmurs. 

You turned a corner, your mind racing with thoughts of Nikolai. What had you done to deserve his wrath? Every attempt to remember came up empty, a frustrating blur of confusion. You didn't see the men until it was too late.

A flash of metal, the sound of a gun cocking—it snapped you out of your reverie. You stumbled, your boot catching on the uneven cobblestones, and you fell to your knees just as the first shot rang out. The alley exploded into chaos, bullets whizzing past you, ricocheting off the brick walls.

"Get down!" someone shouted, but the voice was lost in the cacophony. You scrambled to your feet, ducking low and trying to find cover. Two rival gangs, by the looks of it, were locked in a deadly exchange, their faces twisted with rage and fear.

You pressed yourself against the wall, breathing hard, your eyes scanning for an escape route. Another shot grazed the wall near your head, sending a shower of brick dust into your face. You wiped your eyes, blinking rapidly, and saw an opening—a narrow gap between two buildings, barely wide enough for a person.

Without thinking, you dashed for it, your heart pounding in your ears. A sharp pain tore through your shoulder, and you gasped, stumbling but not stopping. You squeezed into the gap, your shoulder screaming in protest, and kept moving, pushing through until you spilled out onto another street.

The shootout was behind you, the sounds of gunfire muffled by the buildings. You leaned against the wall, panting, clutching your shoulder. Blood seeped through your fingers, warm and sticky.

You collapsed to the ground, arm still covering the wound on your torso, but you couldn’t keep your body up any longer. You were close to the docks. Someone would find you. 

“Hey, hey, hey…” A familiar voice floated across the heaviness, bouncing around in the back of your head. “Don’t move. I’ve got you.”

What did he say? Why couldn’t you move? You didn’t try though, instead nuzzling into the warmth of their hand. 

“…didn’t hit anything important, you’re okay…”

What didn’t hit anything important?

“You’ll be fine. We’ll get you back to the ship and get you right.” A warm hand pressed down on your abdomen, putting pressure. A sharp pain cut through the fuzziness in your mind. Your eyes met familiar muddy green ones. Ones that you knew all to well.

Everything came rushing back, your train of thought screeching back into coherence, and you gasped, face pressed against a warm shoulder. Nikolai’s shoulder. Pain flared in your abdomen like lightning, and you cried out, gripping Nikolai’s arm. 

“Easy, now, sweetheart,” he grunted, gathering you further into his arms as his hand turned more and more red. “Can’t have you move right now.”

Fuck, it hurt. You let out a small whine as Nikolai adjusted his hand. This pain was unlike you’d never felt before - you’d been stabbed before but it didn’t hurt like this.

“Nik- I- I…-” you stammered.

“Hey, it’s okay, mouse. You’re okay. Just focus on breathing.”

You bit down another cry, forcing air out through your nose, burying your head further into his shoulder.

“Good, that’s good… Can I move my hand, mouse?”

You caught a glimpse of him ripping off a section of his shirt - somewhere in the back of your mind, you were disappointed. You liked that shirt. It was a shame to ruin it.

“Nik, it- fuck…” You were really feeling it now, warm and sticky blood seeping down your stomach. Nikolai tried to tie the strip of fabric as tight as he could but the pain seemed to deepen with every movement, spreading up through your torso to the rest of your body, and you gritted your teeth to halt a pained scream.

Nikolai glanced down at your fear-stricken face with a mix of guilt and shame, but quickly offered you a tight-lipped smile. “Nothing new to us, huh, sweetheart?”

The nickname wasn’t lost on you, but you didn’t have the energy to comment on it. You felt woozy again, as if you were slowly floating away from your body. His muddy green eyes were getting harder and harder to focus on, your body begging for the respite of unconsciousness.

Nikolai moved quickly, carefully lifting you into his arms, his expression tightening as you winced. Despite the urgency, his touch was gentle, his concern evident in every movement. The streets of Os Kervo blurred past him as he made his way to the ship, his mind racing with worries and questions.

By the time you reached the ship, Tamar and Tolya were already there, alerted by some unspoken bond or perhaps just the unmistakable sense of something gone wrong. Tamar’s eyes widened when she saw you, and she immediately set to work, her hands moving quickly as she tried to staunch the bleeding and mend the torn flesh.

“They need to rest,” Tamar said, her voice firm despite the strain of her efforts. “They’ve lost a lot of blood.”

Nikolai nodded, his face a mask of controlled emotion. He watched as Tamar worked, feeling a knot of anxiety tightening in his chest. The thought of losing you, without ever understanding why you had caused him such pain, was unbearable. As Tamar finished and stepped back, Tolya helped her move you to a more comfortable position.

Nikolai paced the small cabin, his thoughts a whirlwind. He needed answers, but for now, he needed to be prepared for the worst. Turning to the twins, he took a deep breath. “I need to ask you about their… person back home,” he said, his voice low and urgent. “In case they don't make it.”

Tamar and Tolya exchanged confused glances. “Their person?” Tolya echoed, frowning.

Nikolai nodded, frustration creeping into his tone. “I overheard the three of you talking. They mentioned someone. If something happens, we need to know who to contact.”

Tamar's eyes narrowed slightly as she tried to recall. Then, a look of realisation dawned on her face. “Oh, you mean Nikolai.”

Nikolai’s heart skipped a beat, but he kept his face impassive. “What do you know about him?”

“Not much,” Tamar admitted, glancing at Tolya, who nodded in agreement. “Just that his name is Nikolai. They mentioned him once, but not in detail.”

Nikolai’s mind raced, connecting the dots. They didn’t know. They had no idea that the Nikolai you spoke of was him—Sturmhond, the privateer. He felt a strange mix of relief and guilt. Relief that his identity remained safe, but guilty that all of this had been a misunderstanding. “Thank you,” he said finally, his voice softer. “That’s… helpful.”

Tamar frowned, sensing his unease but not pressing further. “They’ll pull through,” she said confidently, more to reassure herself than anyone else. “They’re strong.”

Nikolai nodded absently, his gaze fixed on your pale face. As the night deepened, he slumped into the chair, needing to be near you, so he could apologise.

When you next awoke, the pain was pretty much gone, and you were decidedly not dead. It was a good start.

You were lying in a bed. For a second, the sun filtered through the windows and you thought you were in your bed. All the way back home in Novyi Zem. Your sister would run in in a moment asking for you to make her tea - you did it the best, not too milky and not too sweet. You opened your eyes to the sight of dark wooden panels. You were on the ship. The bed was familiar, though. The last time you were in it, a warm heavy arm had been resting across your chest. Your heart ached at the thought.

You looked over to the sight. The Captain was curled up in an armchair next to the bed, head cupped in his palm, his hair, loose and unkempt, clearly having had a hand run through it over and over. He must have nodded off at some point during the night. You were happy to see him sleep - he looked so calm and peaceful, unlike the past few weeks. 

His eyes fluttered awake, almost as if he felt your gaze over him. His flickered to your covered waist before meeting your eyes. His gruff expression melted into one more sympathetic, and he reached out to squeeze your hand.

"You're still here?" You croaked. 

"I promised you I'd still be here in the afternoon."

fin.

[heliads]

because I'm in the mood for Pain could i request a nikolai fanfic with a grisha reader. they were childhood friends, but then one day reader was captured by fjerda and after they find the cure for parem they come back to ravka and don't think they're good enough for nikolai because they were too weak to resist the drug. i hope you're having a lovely day!

'only in my dreams ' - nikolai lantsov

masterlist

There’s an old saying, one that’s been tossed around by generations of practitioners of the Small Science and otkazat’sya alike, one that you’ve heard since you were small and keep hearing as you get older. There’s no good place to be a Grisha. It’s been used as a weapon and an assurance at times, a claim that you don’t belong and a reminder that life doesn’t really get better, so you might as well enjoy who you are wherever you are.

Right now, though, it just feels all too real. When you were a child growing up in the middle of nowhere in the Ravkan countryside, no one trusted a Grisha. When you were brought to Os Alta to train in the Little Palace, the glimmering city didn’t feel like a home either, just a place where you would be brought up to fight in someone else’s wars. You could go anywhere you want, but it would never quite be enough. You find your home in people you trust, but no place will ever want a witch.

And, rotting in a Fjerdan cell, you think it’s especially true now. You pity the Grisha who were born in Fjerda, and wonder how they would have managed to grow up in a country whose own army was dedicated to the cause of hunting them down. It wasn’t all that great to grow up empowered in Ravka, either, but at least there was somewhere for you to go once you were discovered, and that was the Little Palace. In Fjerda, the only place that newly discovered Grisha go is the grave.

That, or the cells, and right now you’re wishing that you were six feet under instead of here right now. Other than wanting them dead, the Fjerdan government seems fascinated by just how Grisha work. They’ve managed to get their hands on jurda parem, and you’re a part of their latest batch of test subjects.

You last received the drug a few days ago, and already the debilitating ache of withdrawal is starting to press against your bones, tearing against your sinews and skin until all you can think of is when you last had it and where you could get some more. The Fjerdan scientists are single-minded in their approach to treating Grisha with parem; exact doses are carefully measured out and only delivered in the precise windows of time that they desire. Once medicated, the captive Grisha will have their hands unchained for slim opportunities to practice their gift, most likely to build or destroy or torture other captives as directed by the Fjerdan guards.

Eventually, the parem will wear off, and then you’ll be back to where you are right now:  curled into a corner of your freezing cell, desperate for warmth or parem or anything more than this heavy, never-ending horror.

You used to be more than this, you know. You used to be a proper Grisha, one who could never imagine themselves as you are now, exhausted and starving and addicted to a drug no one even knew existed until just a short time ago. You had been brought to Os Alta when you were quite young, so for the most part, the Little Palace was the only life you had ever really known.

And what a life it had been; your mind drained by the constant tests of parem, you slip into a dreamy half-sleep, letting the memories cloud your consciousness so you don’t have to think about whatever horrors await you.

Os Alta had been beautiful. Ravka has been a struggling country for quite some time, and will likely go on eking out its days one by one for quite some time, but the royal family spared no expense on its capital city. Even the Little Palace, the smaller and humbler variant of the Grand Palace, was intricate and masterful, a testament to the artistic prowess of the Ravkan people when its creators went long enough without hunger pangs to focus on their craft.

You can almost imagine you’re there if you close your eyes. The sensations come back to you as if in a dream:  the rustle of your kefta as you walk, the smooth edges of the cobblestones where they’d been worn down by hundreds of feet, the sharp voices of your tutors, the thrill in your veins as you used your powers. You can still remember when it had been a joyous thing to use your powers uncorrupted by parem. Now, every tug to the making at the heart of the world feels like a betrayal of your own people, a sick and terrible thing that should not be practiced by any living thing.

You turn your mind away from that harsh reality, opting instead to remember the good days, the golden memories when the worst thing you could imagine was doing badly in one of Botkin’s training sessions. Since you’d been at the Little Palace since you were small, you had plenty of friends across the branches of the Small Science, plus one extra boy whose eyes used to shine like sunlight off of the True Sea. He wasn’t a Grisha though. He was–

He was a prince.

Nikolai Lantsov wasn’t supposed to visit the Little Palace. Truth be told, he wasn’t supposed to leave the Grand Palace at all except when instructed by the king and queen or one of his tutors. However, the young prince didn’t seem to care for rules, and rare was the day when he wasn’t sneaking off to pass days by his own volition. More often than not, his errant path brought Nikolai to you.

The two of you had been friends for years. Never mind the fact that a friendship between a Grisha and a prince would be strictly forbidden, no one ever caught on and the two of you were quite obliged to keep it that way. Nikolai was brilliant in mind and spirit. When you think about the happiest you’d ever been, the days you wished could stretch on forever, it’s the time you spent with Nikolai that was the best of all. Sometimes, you snuck him an extra kefta and the two of you would explore the Little Palace, or you’d run around the countryside surrounding Os Alta. You’d swap stories and little trinkets or gifts, and you’d smile like everything was alright, because when you were with Nikolai, it was.

Then he got older, and you did too. Nikolai stopped being able to visit you as often. You grew through the ranks of the Grisha, and were sent on missions with increasing frequency. Sometimes, you’d be away from Os Alta for months at a time, and only come back to find out that Nikolai had just left on a similar errand. Your paths started diverging, and even though every time you saw him, it was like the days hadn’t passed at all, both of you had growing up to do, and unfortunately, that didn’t involve each other.

You still held out hope that maybe he would become king and find a way to loop you back into his busy days. Just recently, he had returned from his years at school (and, as the rumor has it, at sea), and you had hoped that maybe you’d be able to spend more time together. All you had was one more mission, then you’d be back in Ravka for many months. Surely you could use that time.

The Fates didn’t seem keen on that happy of an ending for you, however. Your mission went awry. Fjerdans intercepted your group. You distracted the enemy soldiers long enough for the rest of your party to get away, but you were captured and brought back to Fjerda. You had assumed you’d be killed, but instead, you were sent to their experimental division and given your first dose of parem.

So the angels fall. Now, the idea that you could be remotely close to a prince’s best friend is laughable. If you could see him now, you have no doubt that he would still be the same golden, glorious boy he had always been, now imbued with the confidence of years wearing the crown. By contrast, you are huddled in a cell, your powers harshly amplified by the corrupting influence of jurda parem.

No, Nikolai Lantsov certainly wouldn’t want you now. The only way you can have him still is in your dreams, those beautiful fragments of imagination in which both of you are still young and blameless. He hasn’t fled Os Alta for a false name and a life at sea. You haven’t been captured and forced to undergo cruel tests. Both of you are happy and whole, and nothing bad has ever happened to either of you. What a dream indeed. 

A dream, but dreams are all you have. The dream of being back with Nikolai is a good one. So, too, is the dream that someone will come to take you out of this place. You’ve had this one many times before, and it slips over you like sleep. It would happen quickly, the break-out. The Fjerdan guards would shout in surprise, then be quickly silenced. You’d hear the rattle of fast footsteps, and the door to your cell would fly open. All doors would be open, and all Grisha would live. You’d run far away, to a place that would finally want you again. All would be well.

You’re comfortable with it, not bothering to open your eyes lest you lose track of the dream. Only– maybe the parem is still lingering in your system, because you swear the faux sounds of fighters are louder than they usually are in the dreams. It’s not real, but the shouts do seem real, don’t they?

It’s not real. After all, parem has a way of messing with your mind. Many times during your captivity, you’ve thought you’d seen someone from home only to realize differently during the cloudiness of withdrawal. This is the same as that.

However, when the door to your cell clangs open, you feel the reverberations through your skin and bones, something that never happens when the Fjerdans come to get you. Your eyelids fly open and you scramble back against the wall, watching with terrified eyes as soldiers hurry to you. One’s in Ravkan fatigues, but the other is a Healer in a red kefta.

“You’re not real,” you grit out, teeth pressed together.

She shakes her head sympathetically. “I am, my friend. We’ve broken you out at last. Here, I have the cure.”

She holds out a syringe pre-loaded with some sort of substance. You snap back when you see it, too familiar with Fjerdan tricks of trying to inject you with different medicines. “Don’t you dare get that near me. I know what you do.”

The Healer jerks her chin towards you. “Hold her,” she says to the soldier.

You scream, a high, drawn-out sound, and do your best to fight, but your captivity has left you frail, and he’s able to subdue you after minor effort. The Healer pushes the needle into your veins, and you wait for something terrible to happen, another grievous experiment to begin in your body, but the strangest thing happens:  you feel better.

You stare up at the Healer. Your mind feels clearer than it has in days, and, impossibly, you can feel your strength returning. “What is that?”

“A cure to jurda parem,” the Healer tells you. “Sincerest apologies that it’s taken this long to get to you.”

You’re guided out into the corridor, where you join the former occupants of the surrounding cells. All of you regard your rescuers and each other with the same incredulity and faint excitement. Is this really it? Are you finally out?

The ride back to Ravka should be long, but it feels as if it’s over in the blink of an eye. Several times, the rescue party stops at safe houses along the way, giving all of you opportunities to wash up, get new, warm clothes, and eat and drink to fix the gnaw of hunger that clings to all of you. By the time the gates of Os Alta swing wide to admit you, you’re almost feeling normal again.

Almost.

The torment of your time in the Fjerdan cells will stick with you forever, and the awful memories of what it had been like to be under the influence of jurda parem. However, the Healer’s cure worked well. When you try to use your abilities, they work the same as they had before the awful drug was first administered to you. By all accounts, you’re back to normal, even if your mind doesn’t entirely feel that way.

The driver calls to your group that you’ll be arriving outside the Little Palace shortly. “King Nikolai will be there to greet you,” he announces over his shoulder.

Excited whispers surround this, and you can’t help but listen in intently. “Nikolai Lantsov will be there?” One girl giggles by your side.

Another smiles in encouragement. “They say he’s been observing each coach that brings back rescued Grisha from Fjerda. It’s like he’s looking for someone. Maybe an old friend?”

You feel your stomach chill, the warm delight of rescue starting to cool off again. You have no doubt that you’re the one Nikolai is looking for; he had told you many times that you were his favorite Grisha by far, even when he was briefly engaged to the Sun Summoner for purely political reasons, but you find yourself hoping he doesn’t find you when you get out of your coach.

It’s not that you don’t want to see him, you do– the idea of being with Nikolai again had sustained you through your time in the Fjerdan cells better even than food or drink, but the fact remains that you are no longer as you were in your memories. You are no longer someone that a king would care to see. More so than just your weakened frame, your disorganized mind– you were captured on a mission, and you succumbed to jurda parem. In the back of your mind, a cruel voice whispers, pathetic. Nikolai will be spending his time with the finest diplomats, the noblest princes and princesses. He will not want a Grisha who could not hold out against a drug.

You gather your borrowed cloak about you, pulling the hood down over your face. It’s a size or two too large for you, by virtue of it belonging to someone else, and right now you’re glad for the extra fabric to disguise you. Nikolai is looking for a ghost, and probably out of necessity. He’ll likely be relieved that he won’t have to handle you like a difficult situation.

The coach pulls to a stop. Many rescued Grisha are crammed inside, so you blend into the crowd as you all pour out. Other Grisha from the Fjerdan prison are there already. It’s easy to slip amongst their ranks, keeping your head down. Nikolai is there in front of you as promised. His head is tilted up slightly, his gaze sweeping row after row of visitors. Maybe he isn’t even looking for you at all.

Then, his eyes catch yours briefly. Immediately, you look away, and start backing through the crowds again, trying to lose his gaze. When you feel it’s safe to look again, you breathe out quiet relief when you notice that he’s still scanning the crowd where you had been. Lost him. It’s a victory, but it’s an awful pain nonetheless.

Once everyone has arrived, Nikolai says a few kind words about how he’s glad everyone has returned home and how apologetic he is about the time it took to get you all back. No one seems to hold it against him, though, and how could you? He rescued you in the end, and managed to get you the cure to jurda parem to boot. It’s a fine success if you’ve ever seen one.

Nikolai releases you to the Little Palace to rest. Grisha stream past Nikolai, but he doesn’t stop to talk to any of them, looking again for someone. For you, maybe. You pull the hood down low again. If you move quickly, maybe he’ll miss you. You give him a wide berth, keeping your eyes low. You’ve almost made it to the edge of the courtyard when you feel a hand rest on your arm, carefully pulling you to a stop.

You don’t look up, not at first. You don’t have to look to know who it is. You’ve known Nikolai for years. You would know how he walks, the precise pattern of his boots against the cobblestones. You would know how the breath hitches in his throat when you’re reunited after too long a separation. You would know how his hand feels on you. You’ve dreamed of it a thousand times, but this isn’t a dream anymore, this is real.

“Excuse me, moi tsar,” you whisper. Maybe he doesn’t know it’s you yet. Maybe you can still escape with your dignity intact.

Any hope you had of avoiding recognition vanishes in an instant when Nikolai murmurs, “Y/N,” in such a desperate voice that you feel you could hardly move if you tried.

You stand still. A strong wind could blow you over, maybe. You watch the ground as Nikolai’s boots cross the ground to stand in front of you. His other hand rises to brush your hood back from your face. A gasp is ripped from his lungs as he takes in the sight of you.

“I look that bad, then, do I?” You can’t help but laugh quietly. It’s a bitter sound. You used to sound happier when you laughed with him, you think. A lot has changed.

Nikolai’s hand leaves your hood, drifting to your face. He raises your chin with a soft finger until you’re looking him in the eyes again. “Not to me,” he says, voice hardly louder than a whisper. “I’ve always thought you were beautiful.”

A quiet scoff escapes you. “I have been a prisoner of Fjerda for months, moi tsar. I doubt that was conducive to beauty.”

“You’d be surprised,” he tells you. Then, a bit more insistent, “You don’t need to refer to me with a title, Y/N. You didn’t when we were little.”

“I didn’t know better,” you say. It’s not quite true, and he knows it.

“Don’t say that,” Nikolai pleads. “We were friends, excellent friends. Now we’re older and you’re avoiding me. Why?”

You look away again. “Don’t ask me that,” you say with a laugh. You meant it to be a joke, but it comes out as a plea.

“I will,” he insists. “I have always been stubborn, you know that about me. Stubborn enough to search every single Fjerdan prison my spies could find when you went missing. Stubborn enough to stand here and wait in the cold until I could find you. And certainly stubborn enough to wait here with you until you tell me why I’m no longer good enough for you.”

This, at last, is enough to make your eyes fly to him. “That’s not true,” you insist hotly. “Quite the opposite, in fact. You’re a king and I’m a Grisha. And a Grisha that couldn’t even withstand jurda parem, to be specific. Saints, you win wars and I lost the first one that ever came to me. If there is anyone that has ever been insufficient, it would be me.”

The hand on your arm slips down to your fingers, and Nikolai squeezes once, twice. A heartbeat. A prayer. “You have never been insufficient to me,” he tells you. You make some sound of disagreement and he repeats it, insistent as ever. “No, you listen. You aren’t. Jurda parem is notorious for the pain it causes. You think you lost the war? The fact that you’re still alive in front of me tells me that you won it. Every day since you went missing, I woke up and went to bed terrified that you were dead and I would never know. I need you, sweetheart, and I need you to stop punishing yourself for something that wasn’t your fault.”

You stay quiet for a while, letting the words turn over in your mind, then, impulsively, you ask, “Sweetheart?”

He grins, easy as always. “It fits you. Don’t argue with me, I’ve had plenty of arguments prepared to convince you otherwise.”

You laugh, and this time, it’s real. “I wouldn’t dare, then. I just would have thought that you’d have plenty of princesses who would have won that nickname for real by now.”

Unable to stop yourself, you cast a glance towards his left hand. No ring. When you look back up at Nikolai, he’s beaming. “No queen for me, I’m afraid. I was waiting for mine to return from captivity.”

You roll your eyes. “Still haven’t given up on that, have you? I seem to remember you trying and failing to convince me to marry you since we were six.”

Nikolai grins, slipping your arm inside his so he can guide you back to the Little Palace. “I will never give up. Not until you say yes.”

You laugh again, shaking your head in mock disbelief. It’s been a while since you saw him. It’s been a while since he asked. If he were to do it again, you think you might have a different answer than when you were both so small. 

Nikolai turns to look at you, his eyes shining. He’s always had a gift for knowing what’s on your mind, and judging by the light in his smile, you think he’s predicted your thoughts yet again. He’s got some time before he attempts another proposal. This time, though, he’ll have a better outcome than before.

grishaverse tag list: @rogueanschel, @deadreaderssociety, @cameronsails, @mxltifxnd0m, @story-scribbler, @retvenkos, @mayfieldss, @eclliipsed, @gods-fools-heroes, @bl606dy, @auggie2000, @baju69, @crazyhearttragedy, @aoi-targaryen, @budugu

all tags list: @wordsarelife

[bey0nd-1he-stars]

Wedding bands - Nikolai Lantsov

Masterlists

Pairing: Nikolai Lantsov x reader

Wordcount: 1268

Warnings: none

Summary: You finally tell your friends and crew what your ring is for.

The wind blew in the sails, carrying the Volkvolny across the open seas. Almost the whole crew were up on deck, a few squallers minding the sails but mostly letting the natural wind do the work. Tamar and Tolya had gathered a small group of people and settled down for a few rounds of cards. Nikolai had sat down on the floor up on quarterdeck, a map laid out in front of him. You were out on request of the king so Nikolai hadn’t bothered to tailor himself. You kept close to Ravkan shores anyway and it was his waters so neither of you were especially worried. You stood behind him, watching over his shoulder as he studied it. Usually he would keep all of his maps down in the captain’s cabin but the sun was out and the soft breeze was refreshing. And you were out here on deck. That was always a plus. 

After a while Nikolai rolled up the map and stood to leave it in his cabin. You just gave him a nod and a smile before Tamar shouted for you to join them. They had sat down on the main deck at a bench and used a crate as a table. You smiled in thanks when Tolya handed you a set of cards. Your ring flashed in the sun when you took them from him and you saw his gaze flickering down to it for just a second. When you’d played for a while, Tolya brought it up.

“What’s that ring for? You always wear it and you’ve been wearing it since I met you,” he placed down his card in the pile and looked up at you. You smirked and placed down your card as well, leaving you victorious, “you know I won't tell you.” He shrugged, “worth a shot.” Tamar looked at you with raised eyebrows, “your heart rate picked up,” she stated with a smirk and placed a card in the pile. A faint blush covered your cheeks and you looked away from her for a second, and that was your mistake.

“You’re in love with someone!” she exclaimed and turned to face you fully. You let out a surprised huff and laughed softly, “what?” 

“Who’s in love?” Nikolai’s deep voice cut you off and you all turned towards him. The sun made his hair look golden. His hazel eyes looked like they had pieces of gold flowing in them and the blue of his jacket complimented his looks very well. It blew softly in the wind and tugged at the ends. Your Y/H/C hair was up but a few strands got caught in the wind and Nikolai had to tear his gaze away from you, his breath caught in his throat for a second. Tamar smirked and turned to you again. 

“Dear Y/N here. Her ring is a ring from a lover.” 

“Well that’s no news,” Nikolai smiled and sat down beside Tolya and you all returned to the game but continued talking. Tolya seemed a bit upset at his statement, “what do you mean ‘no news?’ You knew?” He turned to Nikolai who just shrugged and smirked at him. Tamar let out a huff, “you bastard,” she mumbled and both you and Nikolai burst out laughing. 

“But I’m right, then? You are in love?” Tamar pressed. They’d finished playing and Tolya had lost. Now the cards just laid in a pile in the crate and all the attention was directed towards you. You searched for Nikolai’s gaze and he gave you a quick, almost unnoticeable nod.

“Yeah, you are. I'm in love.” Tamar smirked at that and gave you a nod to continue. 

“What? What do you want me to say?” you laughed and started gathering together the cards again in a proper pile. 

“Well, is it a promise ring? Or how far along are we talking?” Tolya said and encouraged you to tell them all of it. Nikolai just shook his head in amusement. That it could be so interesting to know about your love life, but he stayed anyway. He wanted to see their reactions if you decided to tell them the truth. 

“It’s… It’s a wedding ring, actually,” you confessed and twisted the ring on your finger. The gemstones glittered in the sun and the gold shined. You had decided to just wear the wedding ring on your finger and hung the promise ring and the engagement ring on a chain around your neck, hiding away the Lantsov emerald from plain sight. Tolya gaped at your statement and then he turned to Nikolai.

“You knew she's married?” he asked, stunned that you’d told Nikolai and not them. You were all very close friends and Tolya thought that you’d tell them all if you were to tell anyone. But so the case didn’t seem to be because Nikolai knew. Your husband chuckled, “fortunately enough, I do.” Tolya turned to Tamar, feeling a bit betrayed but in a joking manner, of course. Tamar, intrigued, turned to Nikolai too, deciding it probably would be easier to get him to spill what he knew than to try to ask you. 

“Do you know who he is?” She lifted an eyebrow at him and leaned forward and rested her head in her hand. Nikolai’s gaze flicked to yours, amusement swirling in his eyes and a smirk resting on his lips. 

“Would be weird if I didn’t.”

“Well, tell us,” The twins demanded. Nikolai just smirked and with a laugh he lifted his own left hand where a golden wedding band rested on his ring finger. 

“Him? You’re married to him?” Tamar turned back to you, surprised but when she thought about it, it made sense. You always hung around Nikolai, often touching him, whether it was a hand on his shoulder, a hand threading through his hair or your elbows or knees touching. And if you weren’t with him your gaze always traveled the area as if taking in the scenery, but in reality, you were just looking for him. She’d never thought about it before but those days when something went bad or when he was hurt, or maybe just having a tough day and he disappeared into his captain’s cabin, you disappeared too. You watched as the puzzle pieces started to fit together in her head and you just nodded.  

“How long?” Tolya wondered out loud. Nikolai smiled, “a few years.” You nodded along with a smile “how long have you seen me wear this ring?” 

Tamar smiled, she knew you were telling the truth, but still, it was fun to tease you both, “prove it,” she demanded with a laugh. 

“Prove it?” Nikolai wondered, “what do you mean prove it? Isn’t the rings pretty big proof, or how do they marry in Shu Han?” Tamar smirked, “I demand to see a kiss.” Nikolai turned to you and you just shrugged. They were your closest friends, it didn’t matter if they saw you kiss one time. You took the hand Nikolai reached out to you and he pulled you to your feet. With one arm around your waist and one cupping your face, he pressed his lips to yours. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him closer to you, burying your hands in his golden locks. You heard them cheer you on and Nikolai smiled into the kiss. When the two of you pulled away, Nikolai held you close to him anyway, looking into your eyes and smiling like an idiot, happy that you finally could show your relationship among your friends.

[that-one-ostrich-friend]

could you write a nikolai fic with the dialogue “will you dance with me? please, pretty please!”

thanks 🤎

May I Have This Dance?

nikolai lanstov x reader - may i have this dance?

word count: 3k

summary: nikolai and y/n share a dance and then sneak away for something more…

warnings: kissing, allusions to smut, partially shirtless nikolai, manwhore nikolai <3

a/n: first request!!!

     The evening had settled over the grand hall of the palace, where the air was filled with the soft rustling of silk gowns and the clink of crystal glasses. The palace was alive with celebration, a banquet in honor of Nikolai Lantsov's triumphs. The night was extravagant, the chandeliers sparkling overhead, their light casting a warm glow over the guests below.

     Y/n stood near the edge of the dance floor, watching the couples spin in graceful rhythm. The music played in the background, the strings and horns blending together in a symphony of joy. She had attended the event with a mix of curiosity and wariness—curiosity about the man everyone spoke of so highly, and wariness because, well, Nikolai Lantsov was unlike any man she had ever met.

     She had caught glimpses of him from across the room, charming guests with his smile, his magnetic presence undeniable. He was a man of many faces—dashing prince, clever tactician, mischievous joker. But Y/n had learned that there was much more to him than the masks he wore. It was the quieter moments, the ones spent in the corners of rooms or the subtle exchanges during casual conversation, that intrigued her the most.

     As she adjusted the sleeve of her gown, her thoughts interrupted, and a soft voice pulled her from her reverie.

     "Ah, there you are. Hiding in the corner, are we?"

     Y/n turned, her heart giving an unexpected jolt. Nikolai stood there, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. His golden hair, disheveled just enough to be charming, glinted in the light as he approached her, the confidence in his stride making it impossible for her to look away.

     "I was not hiding," she replied, her tone teasing, though her pulse betrayed her calm facade. "Merely observing."

     "Observing?" He raised an eyebrow, his expression light but interested. "I hope you’re not planning on staying in this corner all evening. It’s far too beautiful a night to waste on solitude."

     Y/n chuckled, a little more nervous than she cared to admit. "And what do you suggest I do with my evening, then?"

     "Well..." His voice lowered, becoming more earnest, as he offered her a sly grin. "It seems to me you’ve been watching the dancers long enough. Perhaps it’s time you joined them."

     Y/n felt a flutter in her chest, though she couldn’t tell if it was excitement or hesitation. She had never been one for dancing, especially in such a grand setting. But Nikolai’s presence was magnetic, pulling her in like the tide.

     Nikolai tilted his head, eyes glimmering with mischief. "I’m sure you could pull off anything, Y/n. You’re already the most captivating person in the room, even without stepping onto the floor."

     Her heart skipped at the compliment, but she tried to hide it with a roll of her eyes. "Flattery will get you nowhere, Your Highness."

     Flattery?" He raised his hand dramatically, placing it over his heart as if wounded. "I assure you, it’s nothing but the truth."

     Before she could retort, he took a step closer, his voice lowering to a conspiratorial whisper. "Will you dance with me? Please, pretty please?"

     The playful tone in his voice made it impossible to resist. Y/n’s resolve wavered, and for a moment, she simply stared at him, her mind a whirl of conflicting thoughts. He was, without a doubt, a force of nature. A man who could charm the birds from the trees, and yet, he wasn’t making her feel overwhelmed, but... rather intrigued.

     "I suppose I can’t refuse such a charming request," she finally said, with a smile that was half reluctant and half excited.

     Nikolai grinned, his eyes alight with triumph. "Splendid."

     He extended his hand to her, his fingers warm and inviting. Y/n hesitated for only a second before placing her hand in his. The moment their skin touched, a current of electricity seemed to pass between them, and for a fleeting moment, she felt as if the rest of the world had faded away. The noise of the ballroom, the chatter of the guests, even the music—it all seemed distant, swallowed up by the intensity of their connection.

     With a fluid motion, Nikolai led her onto the dance floor. His steps were sure, confident, as though he had done this a thousand times before, and she found herself matching his movements without thinking. She hadn’t danced in years, but with him, it felt natural, easy. He guided her with such a graceful touch, his hand on her waist steady and reassuring, while his other hand held hers with a tenderness that caught her off guard.

     The music swelled around them, and they moved together, weaving through the sea of other couples. Y/n couldn’t help but be drawn into the rhythm of the dance, her body attuned to his. There was something undeniably captivating about him—the way he made her feel like the only person in the room. His presence was magnetic, his every word laced with charm, and as they danced, she couldn’t help but wonder if it was all part of his carefully crafted persona.

     "Are you always this persuasive?" Y/n asked, her voice teasing as she caught his eye.

     Nikolai let out a low chuckle, his gaze never leaving hers. "Only when I know the reward will be worth it."

     "And what is the reward, exactly?" Y/n asked, her heart skipping a beat as they twirled.

     "Why, the pleasure of your company, of course," he replied smoothly. "Though, I must admit, it’s a pleasant surprise that you agreed to dance with me."

     Y/n raised an eyebrow. "A pleasant surprise? You didn’t think I would?"

     Nikolai’s smile widened, his eyes dancing with mischief. "Oh, I had my doubts. But now that we’re here... I’m glad I was wrong."

     The softness in his voice, the way his eyes seemed to hold her attention, sent a wave of warmth through her. She felt as if he was seeing her—really seeing her—in a way no one else had. It was unsettling, how easily he made her feel both exposed and cherished all at once.

     As they continued to dance, the conversation flowed naturally between them, their words playful, light, yet somehow filled with a quiet depth. Nikolai had an uncanny ability to make her laugh, to put her at ease even in the midst of a grand ball. He was never too forward, never too brash, but his presence was undeniable, like the calm before a storm, gentle yet ever-present.

     The music gradually wound down, and the last few couples spun to a stop, leaving the floor almost empty, save for the quiet whispers of those around them. The soft hum of conversation filled the space where the orchestra had just played, and Nikolai gently guided Y/n to a slower pace, their steps slowing in tandem with the fading melody.

     When the music came to an end, there was a brief, almost imperceptible pause, and Nikolai leaned slightly closer, his breath warm against her ear. “You dance with the grace of someone who’s far too modest, Y/n,” he murmured, his voice low and smooth, the playful tone replaced by something far more sincere. “I didn’t expect you to be such a natural.”

     Y/n’s breath caught in her throat, and she met his gaze, a smile tugging at her lips. “Perhaps I’m just full of surprises.”

     Nikolai’s eyes twinkled, his smile wide and knowing. “I do enjoy a good mystery,” he said, his fingers lightly brushing against the small of her back as he began to steer her off the dance floor. His touch was light, yet there was an undeniable sense of possessiveness to it.

     As they moved toward the edge of the ballroom, where the soft glow of chandeliers bathed the room in warm light, Y/n’s heart raced, and a thought, bold and unexpected, crossed her mind. She glanced around the room, noting the bustling groups of guests and the glint of glassware, the scent of perfume thick in the air. She lowered her voice slightly, making sure no one could overhear them.

     “Is there somewhere... a little more private we could go?” she asked, her words a delicate challenge, daring him to either accept or decline.

     Nikolai’s eyes flickered with surprise for a brief moment, and then a mischievous smile spread across his face, the glimmer in his gaze unmistakable. “Ah, I thought you’d never ask,” he whispered, his hand lingering at her waist as he leaned in closer. “There are a few quiet spots, if you’re brave enough to follow me. 

      Y/n’s pulse quickened, but she met his gaze with an unspoken challenge of her own. “Lead the way, Your Highness.”

      With a playful bow, Nikolai offered her his arm, his smile both warm and knowing. “It would be my pleasure.”

     Nikolai guided her through the bustling crowd, the chatter and laughter of the guests slowly fading as they moved deeper into the quieter parts of the palace. The grand ballroom was alive with light and sound, but the farther they got from the center of the celebration, the more the world around them seemed to blur and quiet down. The only sound now was the soft click of their shoes on the polished marble floor, the air heavy with unspoken anticipation.

     As they reached a narrow, secluded hallway, tucked away from the grand festivities, Nikolai paused. The hallway was dimly lit, with only a few candles flickering on the walls, casting long, gentle shadows that danced across the tapestries. The space felt intimate, private—a perfect place for a quiet moment away from the prying eyes of the palace guests.

     Nikolai turned to face her, his expression a mixture of mischief and something deeper, more sincere. His golden hair glinted in the soft candlelight, and his eyes—those ever-changing eyes—were darker now, more focused. His lips curled into a smile, but it was a smile full of intent, full of knowing. “I must admit,” he said quietly, his voice still carrying that charming, playful tone, but now underlined with something that was undeniably magnetic, “I didn’t think you’d be the type to sneak away to a quiet corner.”

     Y/n’s pulse quickened, her heart hammering against her chest. The tension in the air was palpable, thick with possibility. She hadn’t come here to be coy, to play games. She had come here because she couldn’t stop herself from wanting more of him, more of the electrifying chemistry between them. His gaze never left hers, and in that moment, she knew that he, too, was caught in the same web of desire.

     She slowly stepped closer, her gaze dropping to the way the candlelight glinted off his clothing. His shirt—open just enough to reveal the hard lines of his chest—seemed to make him even more alluring. Without thinking, her fingers reached out, brushing against the collar of his shirt. She tugged gently, pulling him closer, her chest brushing against his. The air between them felt charged, as if the space was full of electricity just waiting to snap.

     Nikolai didn’t fight it. Instead, he moved with her, his hand sliding around her waist, pulling her to him with a firm, almost possessive grip. His body was warm, solid against hers, and the scent of him—something woodsy and faintly spicy—wrapped around her, making her senses sharpen.

     Their lips met then, and it was as if a dam had broken. His kiss was urgent, hungry, and she responded in kind, matching his intensity with her own. Her fingers clutched the fabric of his shirt, pulling him even closer, her body pressing into his with a need she hadn’t realized was there. His lips moved against hers in a frantic rhythm, as if they were trying to erase the distance that had always been between them. Y/n felt herself melting into him, the heat of their kiss spreading through her like wildfire.

     For a moment, she forgot everything—forgot about the ball, the guests, the palace. There was only Nikolai, his hands gripping her tightly, his kiss all-consuming. She could feel the heat of him, his body pressing into hers, and it only made her want him more. She felt the familiar flutter in her chest, but this time it was mixed with something stronger, something she couldn’t ignore. Something dangerous.

     When the kiss broke, it wasn’t because they wanted it to. Both of them were panting, their breaths mingling in the small space between them. Nikolai’s forehead rested against hers, and for a moment, they simply stood there, eyes closed, as the sound of their ragged breathing filled the space. His hands rested at her waist, fingers splayed, as though he couldn’t bring himself to let go.

     Y/n’s lips tingled from the kiss, and she slowly met his gaze again, her eyes searching his, full of questions and unspoken thoughts. Without a word, she reached for the buttons of his shirt, her fingers trembling slightly as they worked their way down, slowly unfastening them one by one. The tension between them was thickening, growing more potent with each passing second. Nikolai didn’t stop her, didn’t protest. Instead, he watched her with that same knowing gaze, his chest rising and falling with each breath he took.

     As she opened the last button, the fabric parted, revealing the warm expanse of his chest. The candlelight flickered off his skin, casting soft shadows along his muscles, and Y/n couldn’t help but run her hands over the smoothness of his skin, feeling the heat radiating from him. She traced the lines of his chest, her fingertips brushing against the firm ridges of his muscles, feeling the strength beneath the softness.

     Nikolai let out a soft, low groan at her touch, his hands finding their way to her back, pulling her closer. His lips met hers again, this time more demanding, as if he couldn’t get enough of her. Y/n’s body responded instantly, her hands sliding lower, her fingers skimming the waistband of his trousers before trailing back up to his chest. Every touch seemed to ignite something within him, and the heat between them grew, intense and overwhelming.

     He responded to her touch with equal fervor, his hands exploring the curve of her back, pressing her further into the wall. There was no space between them now—just the feel of their bodies, the heat of their lips, the urgent desire that swirled around them, thick and all-encompassing.

     Y/n’s breath hitched when his lips trailed down her neck, his hands moving to her waist, pushing her dress up slightly. She could feel the steady, firm pressure of his touch, the heat of his body against hers.

     After what felt like an eternity of heated kisses and tangled bodies, their lips finally parted. The hallway seemed to settle back into its quiet stillness, but neither of them could fully catch their breath. Their chests heaved in unison, hearts racing in a way that felt both thrilling and dizzying. Nikolai's hand lingered at her waist, still pulling her close, his forehead resting against hers as they tried to steady their breaths.

     Y/n’s hair had come undone from its elegant updo, strands falling loose around her shoulders, and she couldn’t help but smile softly at the mess they had made of each other. She glanced up at him, noticing that his usually neat attire was now wrinkled, his golden hair disheveled, and his lips swollen from their kisses. A burst of laughter escaped her lips before she could stop it, her chest still rising and falling rapidly from the intensity of the moment.

     Nikolai looked at her with an amused, almost dazed expression, and a slow, boyish grin tugged at the corners of his lips. “I think we’ve both seen better days,” he said, his voice still tinged with breathlessness. He reached up, running a hand through his hair, only making it messier, and chuckled.

     Y/n giggled softly, shaking her head, trying to regain some sense of composure. Her fingers went to her hair, attempting to smooth it back into some semblance of order. She knew she’d have to face the guests again soon, and though she was still flushed from their passionate kiss, she couldn’t help but feel a bit self-conscious about how disheveled she looked. "You’re right,” she said with a teasing smile, “we look like we’ve been caught in a storm."

     Her fingers worked at her hair, trying to pull the loose strands back into place, but she was distracted by the playful yet intense look in Nikolai’s eyes as he watched her. His gaze softened, his lips still curved into that knowing smile. He reached for her wrist gently, his fingers cool against her warm skin, and with surprising tenderness, he pulled her hand away from her hair.

     “Y/n…” His voice was low and serious now, though there was still a playful edge to it. He paused for a moment, his eyes meeting hers with a certain intensity. "You know, I don’t think we’re quite ready to return to the ballroom just yet. Wouldn’t you agree?”

     Her heart fluttered again, the way his gaze lingered on her, full of unspoken promises, made it clear that this wasn’t a casual suggestion. It was an invitation—a quiet request, one that made her pulse race all over again. Her breath caught in her throat as she glanced up at him, the thought of going back to the noisy ballroom seeming less appealing by the second.

     “Where do you suggest we go instead?” Y/n asked softly, her voice almost a whisper as she met his gaze. She could feel the tension between them building once more, the same chemistry that had ignited earlier still simmering beneath the surface. Her body was still humming with the aftereffects of their kiss, and the idea of being alone with him, of indulging in whatever this connection was, felt far more tempting than the thought of returning to the ballroom.

     Nikolai didn’t say a word at first. Instead, he took a small step closer, his thumb brushing against her wrist as he lowered his voice, the words soft yet unmistakably clear. “I think it would be much better if we went back to my bedroom.” His gaze didn’t leave hers, the sincerity in his words making her pulse spike again.

      Y/n’s breath hitched in her chest, the suggestion catching her off guard. She knew she should hesitate, should think it over, but the truth was, she wasn’t sure she wanted to. There was something magnetic about him, something about the way he made her feel seen, alive, and desired. Her mind was clouded with the heat of their earlier kiss, the fire that still burned between them.

     Y/n’s heart pounded in her chest, her mind swirling with everything they’d just shared, everything that still felt so new and thrilling between them. She wasn’t sure where this would lead, but in that moment, all she could focus on was the way he made her feel. The anticipation, the desire, the pull between them.

     Her gaze flickered to his lips for a brief moment, and then, without thinking, she nodded, her voice barely more than a breath. “Alright, lead the way.”

     Nikolai’s smile deepened, and he stepped closer, his free hand gently guiding her by the elbow. He turned and began walking, but his pace was slow, deliberate, as if savoring every moment of this. Y/n followed close behind, her pulse still racing, her thoughts a whirlwind. She had no idea what would happen once they reached his bedroom, but one thing was certain—there was no turning back now.

[iliveiloveiwrite]

Healing Hands // Nikolai Lantsov

Request: Hi Millie! S&B s2 left me with severe Nikolai brainrot 🫠 I love my pirate prince so, if it's okay, I'd love to request a Nikolai x healer!reader 💙 I am a sucker for the patching up trope so that would be amazing. Thanks in advance! ☺️ And happy belated birthday! 🎉

A/N: First time writing for Nikolai so pls be gentle! I’m still getting to grips with his character and I haven’t read King of Scars yet so I only know of the show Nikolai and the trilogy Nikolai. Anyway! Thank you so much for your request, I hope you like, lovely!

Warnings: injuries, mentions of blood, nausea, dizziness. Pining, mutual pining. Mentions of a duel, stabbing. Pain. This is fluff, I promise.

Word Count: 1.4k

Were the grounds to the palace truly that uneven, or was he losing more blood than he initially realised?

Nikolai pondered this as he took a steadying breath against the wave of nausea that washed over him when he placed his left foot on the step first rather than using his right foot to power through. A silly mistake, the prince thinks, but a mistake nonetheless when black spots dance across his vision.

He slumps against a marble column, resting his forehead against its coolness. He could tolerate pain, could stand the sight of blood and deal with the accompanying adrenaline. What Nikolai found hard to cope with, was that he let his elder brother get the best of him.

It was this thought that spurred him on. The anger at being bested by Vasilly that kept him putting one foot in front of the other even though his left leg protested with every single step.

——————

The Healing Room was rather basic in its layout. A row of six beds placed against the back wall; each bed positioned under a window for air ventilation. Across to the furthest side of the room, shackled to the wall, was an apothecary cabinet filled to the brim with plants and herbs that could aid in healing. Most Grisha didn’t have much use for traditional medicine, but the palace hired its fair share of non-grisha too.

To the left of the room, there sat a desk. It wasn’t overly large; big enough for two just about. It was at this desk that he finds you; your face buried in a book, a streaming drink to your side and a pile of unfinished paperwork sprawled across the rest of the desk. If it wasn’t for the blood dripping onto the floor, making him dizzier, Nikolai could stand there and watch you all day.

Nikolai slumps into the door; the dark wood banging against the sage green walls, alerting you to his presence.

“Your Majesty!” You gasp, rushing to your feet, knocking into your desk and spilling ink over the pages of your new book. You barely give it more than a second thought; hurrying to Nikolai’s side. “What happened?”

Nikolai remains silent as you aid him across the small room to the uncomfortable bench where you healed the more dramatic of injuries. Nikolai tries his best not to wince as he settles down onto the hard wood, feeling every bump and scratch laid into the wood. The ceiling lights only further his nausea so he focuses his gaze on you. His eyes follow your every move; bustling from draw to cupboard, pulling out anything you could need before healing his wound with your powers.

A small, pained smile adorns his lips as you draw your stool next to him. Instinctively, you brush his hair back from his forehead. Nikolai leans into your touch; relishing in your gentleness, wishing it could be the first he felt when he came to consciousness in the morning.

“What happened, Nikolai?” You question, turning your focus to the tear in his trousers. A two inch gash stretches across the front of his left thigh; blood runs freely down his leg. The flow seems to have slowed some, but he’d already lost too much for your liking.

Nikolai lazily waves a hand in the air, putting on airs and graces. “It’s nothing. A simple scratch that needs treating.”

You shoot the prince an unimpressed look. “When you want to tell me the truth, Niko, I’m ready and waiting.”

Nikolai groaned, hating the use of your childhood nickname for him. You so rarely used it now; the nickname, like his childhood, a bittersweet memory. “You’re not playing fair,” He complains, throwing an arm across his face.

You snort, shaking your head fondly at the prince. “I never claimed to play fair. I have to know what happened in case I need to treat an infection before closing the wound.”

Nikolai sighs, knowing he had been bested for a second time that day. “Vasilly…” Nikolai begins, quashing the sudden rise of anger as he thinks back to the events of barely an hour ago.

“What did your brother do?”

“It wasn’t what he did. Am I upset he stabbed me? Yes, but I let myself get distracted and lose the upper hand.”

“How?”

“He said something he knew would get a rise out of me and I took the bait.”

“You know better than that,” You chasten, running your hands through his hair again.

He sighs. “I know but I can’t change what’s happened.” Nikolai feels his anger surge once more, “He was spouting nonsense about Grisha and their talents, stating what he would do when he was king. He made a nasty comment about you, and that’s when I lost my temper.”

“I can fight my own battles, Nikolai.”

Nikolai grabs your hand, squeezing it tightly. “You weren’t there to fight this battle. Vasilly knew what he was doing, and I knew too.”

“Then why did you respond?”

“I always will when it comes to you. I won’t stand for anyone badmouthing you even if they are their heir to the kingdom.”

You pull away from his grasp. Shaking your head, ridding yourself of the thoughts rushing through them, you bring your hands up to the all too familiar position.

“Ready?”

The prince grins. “Ready.”

Your hands move in their familiar patterns; the movements so second nature to you that you do not give it a second thought as you watch the gash on Nikolai’s thigh close, leaving nothing behind but a faint, light pink scar. You fix the prince with a stern stare, “I may have healed you but I need you to take it easy for the rest of the day. No duelling your brother, no swords, no guns. Do you understand?”

Nikolai pulls himself up, swinging his legs off the bench as he salutes you with a cheerful grin on his face. The colour has returned to his cheeks and the usual mischievous gleam has returned to his eyes.

Your feel your heart begin to race at the sight, knowing that any Heartrender in a sixty mile radius could most likely hear it’s pounding. “You scared me out of my wits, Niko,” You confess, taking a seat on the wooden bench next to the prince, resting your head on his shoulder.

Nikolai rests his head on yours; taking your hand in his. “I’m sorry,” He murmurs, meaning it.

“It seems I’m always patching you up when you’re here,” You admonish before your tone turns softer. “Or when you return from your travels, you seem to have new scars.”

“My healers aren’t as adept as you, darling,” Nikolai compliments; his tone flirtatious as he brings your joined hands to his lips, pressing a quick and gentle kiss to the back of your hand.

You hide your face in his shoulder, hoping he doesn’t feel the heat from the flush of your skin. “Don’t tell me that or I’ll be stowing away on your ship next time.”

Nikolai stiffens as the idea comes to him. “That’s perfect!” He exclaims, jumping off the bench, dropping your hand in favour of cradling your face with both of his.

“What do you mean?” You wonder, confused to his reaction but not wanting him to move a single inch. His hands on your face feels like the closest you could get to knowing what the touch of a saint is.

Nikolai keeps your gaze steady. “Come away with me,” He all but begs. “I leave soon and I don’t know when I’ll be back again. Come away with me.”

Your hands cover his. Nikolai’s thumb brush your cheekbones; his eyes shine with sheer happiness as his mind races with thought after thought of what it would be like to have you on his ship, to have you so close.

“I need you to promise me something if I’m to do this,” You warn, arching an eyebrow at the blonde.

“Anything,” He responds immediately, desperately wanting you to say yes to leaving with him, to say yes to a future with him.

“You have to promise to only let me heal you,” You state, dropping a hand in favour for poking him in the ribs. “And only me.”

Nikolai laughs; the sound ringing loud and true through the healing room. As he draws you in for an embrace, he knows that that would be a promise he could certainly keep.

[pepperonijem]

be here with me || nikolai lantsov

Pairing: Nikolai Lantsov x fem!reader Warnings: none Genre: fluff Word count: 788 Summary: it's been a long day, but it's okay because at seven you will be here with me

A/N: inspired by the song 7PM by BSS feat. Peder Elias. there are no thoughts, no lore, no plot. just fluff and nikolai. give the song a listen <3

It wasn’t much of a stretch to say you were tired. The kind of tired that feels like it’s been building up for weeks – sneaking up on you like wavelets against the sand, growing and growing until you find yourself sinking under tsunami tides. 

Rebuilding a kingdom from ashes of a war was no simple task, even for the most seasoned of veterans. Too many things to do and never enough time. Too many people to please and never enough resources. Each day was a paradox, twenty-four hours dragging like molasses out of the mouth of a glass jar while you run on against the stream. Every rise of the moon was a welcome sight to you, a sign that although tomorrow would be its own battle, for a few hours you could enjoy the pale glow of the moon. 

Tonight, however, instead of retreating to your private rooms to enjoy time alone with your lover, you found yourself longing to be outside of the palace walls. You send a courier to deliver a message to the king, a short message of  “meet me at the river,” and make your way to the quiet banks of the indigo waters to wait for him. It doesn’t take long for him to find you – it never does – and with the sound of grass breaking, you feel warm arms wrap around you from behind. 

You don’t turn around until he calls your name — not the name used by the people to address you but rather the one kept secret for moments like this. “My love,” the dulcet tones of his voice harmonizing with the crickets and the river waters. You can tell he’s smiling as he calls for you, as he always does, and when you turn around it feels like falling into starlight. His disheveled hair after a day of frustrated ticks is ever so golden, glowing in the white light of the moon and his blue eyes catch the broken reflection of light against the water. It happens quicker than instinct that you reach a hand to rest against his cheek and for Nikolai to release a soft puff of air, as if only now can he finally find rest. 

“Come sit with me, darling,” you beckon to him and he quickly complies. He gently pries your hand from his cheek, opting instead to hold it in his as he fills the space beside you, close enough to feel your thighs touching and you loop your arm through his to fit yourself to lay in against his shoulder. This is home, you think to yourself. 

It isn’t long before the quietness is filled with stories about the day. Although you had spent most of the day in your husband’s company, it was never enough, with only fleeting glances across meeting tables and secret smiles shared in passing. In the daylight, he was Nikolai Lantsov, the people’s King of Ravka. But here with you… he was your Nikolai, dearest. Although your relationship was well-known among the people, it was moments like this that you indulged in like a delicious secret between the two of you. Once the silence comes to find its way between the two of you once again, Nikolai turns his head to press a kiss against the crown of your head. 

“What’s that for?” you lift your head up to smile at him. He shakes his head bashfully before giving you a soft smile and bringing your entwined hands to his lips.

“I just missed you,” he replies sincerely, his free hand coming up to push a hair back from your face pointlessly as a chilling breeze sweeps it back out of place. You let out a chuckle as Nikolai sighs in exasperation with a pout. However, when he notices the slightest shake of your shoulders in a shiver, he immediately stands and extends his hand out to help you up. “Come? Before the winds turn icy.”  

With a laugh, you slip your hand in his, leaning against his shoulder as he tucks your hand into the crook of his elbow. “Is the fearless king afraid of the cold?” You look to see him roll his eyes as he pulls you closer into his side.

“Never,” he replies with a scoff. “But I’d rather like to feel my wife’s skin under my fingers, and I can’t do that when they’re frozen numb.” As if to prove his point, he wiggles his fingers before poking you in the side teasingly. 

To his defense, you completely agree. But more than that, it didn’t matter where you were together, so long as you were together. Come storm or high hell, Nikolai was always your resting place as you were his.

[thearchvillain]

gardenias. | nikolai

part I

nikolai lantsov x reader

summary: Os Alta is alive with whispers of ambition as the Ravkan court gathers to find a queen for Vasily. Y/N, a merchant’s daughter, has no desire to be part of the spectacle. Forced to attend by her parents, she plans to keep her head down, avoid attention, and disappear before the night is over.

But secrets rarely survive the palace walls. A late-night meeting in the winter garden places her directly in the path of Nikolai Lantsov—the charming and unpredictable younger prince. Now, the one man she’s been desperate to avoid is far too interested in her plans, and to her dismay, she doesn’t entirely mind.

With her freedom on the line and the stakes rising, Y/N must navigate the court’s dangerous games—and the pull of a prince who might just unravel everything.

preview:

“I promise not to scream if you tell them you didn’t see who I was meeting with. Eryk’s done nothing wrong.” He lifted a brow, a sinuous smile curving his lips. “Do you promise not to bite, too?” Blood rushed furiously to her cheeks, indifferent to the fact that she was fighting desperately to keep her composure as she glared up at him, impervious to his taunting, or at least pretending to be. “I promise no such thing.” He leaned in, almost imperceptibly, a look of terrible amusement in his eyes as he whispered, “Good.” Then he straightened back up, hands in his pocket, all graceful, unruffled confidence. “But I find those sorts of nefarious activities are better enjoyed when one is well-rested. Shall I escort you to your room? Make sure you don’t accidentally commit some act of treason on your way to it.” She was careful to control her breathing, aware that she was one inhale too deep from being pressed against his chest. “Is that what this is about? You think I’m planning some grand act of treason with Zaitsev?” “Well, you have that look about you. A bit insolent, a bit treasonous.” “I thought you liked that.” He made a soft tutting sound, looking deeply entertained by the defiant tilt of her chin. “Of course I like you. It doesn’t mean I will just let this go.”

word count: 6k (i know. don't @ me, i made it even worse in the rewrite)

tropes/warnings: not cannon, vasily's still alive, nikolai's kinda suspicious that y/n is about to commit some kind of treason and it's reflected in the way he acts, there is tension and innuendos though sljdf

a/n: i'm not going to lie to you, this is absolutely going to be a multi-part. i'm enjoying writing nikolai being a teasing menace far too much not to explore it further, and i think nikolai would be far too curious and fascinated by y/n to just let it go (and a bit worried about what she's up to). i hope you enjoy it!

The air inside the winter garden was laden with the scent of jasmine. There was an oppressiveness to it, a warm humidity that lingered beneath the overbearing fragrance and made it hard to breathe. Or maybe it was just the nerves finally catching up to her. Tempting fate with illicit late-night meetings had a way of leaving one breathless, and that was precisely what Y/N was currently doing. Tempting fate.

She’d already sat down and stood back up several times, which did nothing to soothe her fraying nerves, so now she kept walking up and down the path instead, focusing on the repetitive sound of her steps. Her fingers were sticky with sap, the leaf she’d plucked from some peculiar bush rendered a soggy mess. She’d have thrown it away, but then she would have nothing to distract her from the nervousness pooling inside her chest.

This routine she had fallen into was why, when the door clicked open, Y/N halted in place, startled by the interruption. There was a beat of silence in which she could hear the startled flutter of her heart before the door closed and the key turned inside the lock. Disappointment solidified to stone inside her chest. A servant must have noticed the door was unlocked and locked it from the outside, that was all. Zaitsev wasn’t coming, and now Y/N would have to pick the lock again, this time with a slightly bend hairpin, in order to get back to her rooms.

Dragging in a shaky breath, she turned on her heel and headed in the opposite direction, towards the second door that led directly to the palace grounds. Taking the outdoor route back to her room would be a detour, but it meant she was less likely to be seen, and Y/N hoped the cool night air might help her figure out her next step.

“What’s the rush?” A voice came from somewhere behind her, startling in the deafening silence. “You’re missing out on the flowers.”

Y/N halted mid-step, breath caught in her throat as she stilled in her spot, uncertain. He continued, undeterred. “Or is the collection not exotic enough for the refined taste of a Ketterdam princess?”

This was not the Lieutenant’s voice - it was too silvery, too playful. Refined in its accent - not a native Kerch speaker, but a very well-educated one. Educated enough to have guessed who she was before ever hearing her speak. Shit.

She balled her fists and found her fingers still sticky, at once regretting both the leaf and her choice to assume someone had locked the door from the outside and not the inside. “I—” She cleared her throat, schooling her voice so she wouldn’t sound so guilty. “It’s the smell in here. It’s overpowering.”

“Perhaps the lady would find it less offensive in the daytime.” There was a pause, interrupted by the click of his boot against the marble floor. She swore she could hear the smirk in his voice as he continued, “As most people do.”

What she should have done was excuse herself and head for the grounds. Y/N knew this on an intellectual level. On a more practical one, she had a talent for talking back, and very little for demureness. “You are here too, are you not?” she said instead, then cursed inwardly when he chuckled in response.

“Touche.” She could hear him moving through the silence, his steps slow and deliberate. Could almost imagine him as a predator closing in on its prey in some distant, exotic forest. The foliage certainly fit the part. “But I like the smell at night. It’s jasmine, by the way. Night-blooming jasmine, to be specific. My mother’s favourite.”

She didn’t want to continue this conversation, but she thought that if she played along, she might still get him to pay her detour no mind. Men liked polite. “Oh? Does she garden?”

This made him laugh. It was a pleasant laugh - the kind that belonged to someone intimately familiar with the action, who found her question inexplicably amusing. “Saints, no. That would be quite the sight, though - my mother with dirt-stained hands, taking care of a living thing.”

While Y/N could empathise - her own mother was more delicate with her porcelain than with her children - she wasn’t about to discuss familial trauma with a stranger at three in the morning. So why was he? “I feel you are trying to make me guess who you are.”

“Well, as fun as that sounds, you could also simply… turn around. The joke will make much more sense that way.”

“But I am escaping,” she said, as if this was also very obvious. “It would be silly of me to show my face now when I still have a chance of getting away.”

“Is that what you are doing, escaping? Huh.” There was a rustle of fabric as he shifted in place, closer than she thought he’d been a moment ago. “Women don’t run away from me very often. What a thrilling change of pace.”

Y/N had to stop herself from snorting at this. For one, it was not very ladylike, but also, one did not go about mocking strange men with her back turned on them. She thought this one might just be egotistical enough to take it in stride, but she refrained from testing that theory out for now. “I’m glad I could thrill.” Her voice was bland, open to interpretation. Was she amused? Irritated? Disdainful. She hardly knew herself, and maybe that was the problem. “Are you going to stop me?”

“Would you like me to?” he asked, perfectly conversational.

If Y/N had had a drink to choke on, she would have. Instead, she forced her voice to stay even, and she shoved back that frustrated, sheltered part of herself that had always been bad at keeping her mouth shut. “A thrilling proposition, but one I will have to refuse. I’m keeping to a strict diet of sensibility these days, and none of that sounds very sensible.”

“Some would say that meeting Lieutenant Zaitsev at three in the morning isn’t a particularly sensible activity, but here we are. Minus Zaitsev, unfortunately.” He said the word unfortunately the way people did when they found very little unfortunate about a situation.

At this, Y/N spun on her heel, suddenly aware of the sound of rushing blood and the pitter patter of her heart in her throat. Prince Nikolai looked as pleased by this reaction as a cat would as it dug its claws into some poor, unsuspecting creature, or dipped its whiskers in a tub of full-fat cream.

And it truly was the prince standing in front of her, who had been standing behind her this whole time, and all Y/N could think about right now was that the joke did indeed make sense. Queen Tatiana did not seem like the type to take up gardening.

He was in his full regalia, as polished as he’d been earlier tonight - all shiny medals, crisp lines and the sort of lazy indifference that came with inherited importance and disarmingly good looks. She’d half expected the illusion of grandeur to dissipate this close to him, and at such an ungodly hour, but she instead found him more imposing this way, as impeccable as he’d been from afar.

She had to admit; she found that moderately irritating, amongst other things.

Y/N forced herself to stop gaping and lower her gaze, contrite. This, at least, she was supposed to be well-versed in. “My apologies, Your Grace. I didn’t recognise your voice,” she said, switching to Ravkan. She wanted badly to turn her back to him again, if only to hide the heat in her cheeks.

“How could you? I’ve never had the pleasure of speaking to you before tonight.” Y/N did not think she was imagining the subtle note of accusation in his voice just then.

Not that it wasn’t a fair point; she just did not like that he’d noticed it, that he’d noticed her. She had simply assumed there were enough girls being paraded around that her absence wouldn’t be noted, not until her parents finally lost their patience and shoved her at either prince, at which point she had intended to make herself terribly unamusing.

That plan, she thought, was already failing, if the amused way Nikolai was looking down at her was anything to go by. He had tipped his head to the side, eyes trailing along Y/N with the sort of intense curiosity she could feel burning against her skin. “No need to apologise. I’ve had enough performative politeness to last me a year.”

“Are you implying my apology was performative?”

Nikolai caught her eyes and smiled at the indignation in them. “I’m implying you’ve been avoiding me. The only thing you’re truly sorry about is getting caught tonight.” She had been right - he had the sort of mouth that lent itself to charming, easy smiles, the kind that made it hard to look away.

“That’s a bit presumptuous. Perhaps I’ve simply been avoiding everyone.”

“Well, I am a prince. One would assume this allows for some presumptuousness, at least.” He eased back against one of the smooth stone pillars, head tipped back, as he regaled her with a smirk. “Are you supposed to be shy? Is that it?”

Y/N scoffed. “I’ve run my mouth enough to know that playing that card wouldn’t work anymore.” She wasn’t sure what else to say but the truth, not when he looked at her like that. Too discerning for someone who was supposed to be used to unfettered, unquestioning admiration. People tended to take her downcast eyes and her rosy-lipped smiles as a given. She was sweet, deferential, a proper young lady. But Nikolai had handed her an accusation instead, and now she didn’t know what to do with it.

As if sensing her unease, Nikolai pushed himself easily off the pillar and made to step around her. “Yes.” There was an undue amount of proximity between them as he passed her, eyes trailing along her features, before he disappeared behind her back. “Pretending to be boring won’t work, either. I’m glad you gave up on that after two sentences.”

“Yes, I need to work on keeping my tongue in check,” she said, sullen. “How did you know who I was?”

She didn’t think Zaitsev would have told him, even if pressed - he feared his sister’s wrath far too much for it - and Y/N doubted he could recognise her from the back, especially in the deep dark of the conservatory. Yet there was something unsettling about the cavalier way he considered her question as he toyed with the flowers. Relaxed. In control.

“It’s in my job description,” he said, as if that might explain the overabundance of information on her. As if the Lantsov royalty were famous for taking their job seriously.

She bit her tongue and said instead, “Is it? I’ve heard princes have people for that. To stand behind you and whisper information over your shoulder.” Y/N could just imagine it now, a nondescript figure at Nikolai’s side, their voice low and quick. She is Braam’s brat. A member of the Council, and a rather powerful one. We might need him at some point, so play nice. Except she wasn’t yet sure if Nikolai was here to play nice.

He chuckled at that, an indulgent sound. “You’re not wrong, but I find those overbearing. They can be tough to get rid of when one wishes to slip away unnoticed,” he said, casting a glance over his shoulder. “I’m sure you can relate.”

She moved from her spot to follow him as he slowly made his way down the winding path, keeping a few paces back. “Well, mine usually know very little, but they are very good at keeping me from slipping away.”

“Yes, clearly they’re very good at their job.” He leaned in to smell an unnaturally orange flower, but Y/N caught the tail end of a smile on his lips before it disappeared behind a shadow.

“Oh, they are, but he left them back home. Wouldn’t want the Court to think I’m anything but obedient.”

He turned his head from her flower to look at her, flashing her a grin. “Can’t imagine why anyone would assume that.”

To be fair, Y/N wished there had been more disobedience to speak of in her record, but the prince didn’t need to know that. She was perfectly content with allowing him to assume the worst of her and did her best to look the part as she lifted her eyebrow. “Speaking of disobedience. Where is Eryk? I mean, Lieutenant Zaitsev.”

The hope was that once she put it that way, Nikolai would be free to assume all manner of less than savory things. Not an ideal outcome if you asked her mother, but a perfect one if you asked Y/N. I’m a headache, it was supposed to imply. So don’t bother with me. And Y/N liked to imagine there was some truth to that statement.

“Am I boring you that much?” Nikolai placed a hand across his heart, and Y/N hated herself for getting distracted by the way his fingers splayed across the medals, long and elegant, the snow white of the glove at odds with the deep blue of his uniform. “You wound me, Miss Braam.”

Oh good, she thought as she blinked and looked away from him in frustration. He’d glossed right over her innuendo - a modern man, just what she needed right now.

“It was not my intention, Your Grace. You are a delight,” she said dryly. Her problem was that it wasn’t really a lie - Nikolai seemed delightful, in a precarious sort of way. It was just not the sort of delightful that she could not allow herself to indulge in at the moment, and that she felt far too on edge to appreciate thoroughly. “He promised—”

Nikolai interrupted her, one gloved hand raised elegantly, as if he were used to people shutting up at a mere wave of his hand. Impressive, but Y/N found it rather annoying just how well it had worked on her, too. “I sent him away,” he said, stopping his walk to turn around and face her fully. “Alas, he obeyed. You’re stuck with me instead.”

Y/N felt the frustration that had been festering in her chest rise like the tide, choking out the words in her throat. She knew she had to keep it down, had to appear forlorn rather than irritated. A lover scorned, rather than what she truly was - simply annoyed by Nikolai’s snooping. She hadn’t meant to drag Eryk so deep into it, and she certainly didn’t appreciate the fact that this would inevitably delay her plans.

“Right,” she muttered, voice tight. She hoped she sounded the part at least, turning away from Nikolai to cast her gaze into the distance, worrying at her lip. She'd kept most parts of herself shuttered for so long now she couldn't will her face to remember the sadness.

She must have done something right, because Nikolai moved in the periphery of her vision, coming around to face her again. There were fingers on the edge of her jaw, the material of his gloves soft and runny against her skin. Not cotton, silk. Because of course it would be silk with him. She didn’t fight him as he gently guided her chin so that she was looking up at him and his gaze trailed along the planes of her face as if he were drinking her in. There was something so gentle and sympathetic about the curve of his lips then that she almost believed him. Almost.

“As lovely as you look in all your teary-eyes, heartbroken glory,” Nikolai said, the amusement in his voice bleeding into his eyes, into the corner of his mouth. He brushed his thumb across the dip of her chin. “I sincerely doubt you are anything of the sort. It’s that Ketterdam blood in your veins. Pragmatism above all else, no?”

And perhaps she only had herself to fault for this. She had been a bit too ready to play with him when he’d prodded, too quick with her words, too forward with her answers. Now, she couldn’t exactly roll it all back and pretend to be a lovesick fool. He wasn’t buying any of what she was selling, and she couldn’t fault him for it. She wouldn’t have believed herself either.

She sneered as she jerked her chin against his hand in a display of defiance, hoping for a convincingly withering look. “And is pragmatism an unfamiliar concept in Ravka? Quit playing with your food, Your Highness. This would’ve gone a lot quicker if you’d just told me what you wanted from me in the beginning.”

His mouth curved, a sort of satisfaction bleeding into his smile, as if he enjoyed nothing more than to see the facade crack. “Now that’s more like it.” His eyes slipped down, taking in the angry curl of her lip, the unrestrained clench of her jaw before he looked back up into her eyes. “Now where would the fun be in that, hm?” He was still looking at her as if he were observing a particularly riveting piece of art, one that might reveal some secret meaning if only you looked patiently enough. “Perhaps I didn’t want it to be quick.”

Y/N could agree with him on this - she did not think the youngest Lantsov wanted anything done quickly or haphazardly, especially when it seemed to bring him an undue amount of amusement. She tested the give of his grip - which was light enough that she thought she could easily bat his hand away - but he did not budge, their eyes still boring into each other. “Well then, perhaps I wish to rush it along.”

He chuckled, and she felt his breath brush against her flushed cheeks. “Do you, really?” His grip loosened, but she could still feel his fingers on her jaw, a ghost of a touch seeping warmth into her skin as he trailed them along the jut of the bone. “Leave then. I won’t stop you.”

When she didn’t move, he looked back up from his fingers to her eyes, gaze questioning. “Why, you’re a curious thing. Brought her to be paraded about the Court in the hopes of securing a marriage, no? But then you so diligently avoid both my brother and me.” His lips quirked, a shadow of a smile. “Strange. Can you blame me for being curious? For taking my time to figure you out?”

At any other time, the genuine curiosity in his eyes might have flattered her, even thrilled her. He was charming and handsome and slightly perilous. And she was supposed to be young and silly and unburdened by common sense. To have such singular attention of a prince pointed at her should’ve rendered her a blushing mess. But all she could think about right now was that he was the last person she wanted figuring anything out.

A change of plans, then. “Maybe that was the ploy all along? Have you ever considered that? Avoiding you, ignoring you.” She tipped her head to the side, leaning into his touch until she could feel the pressure of his fingertips grow heavier against her jaw. She tried to imagine herself as someone brazen, like it was a robe she could simply slip on. “It got your attention, did it not?”

He obliged her, his fingers slipping to cup her cheek, thumb brushing across the curve of her cheekbone. His eyes ran across her face and for a moment, she believed she almost had him. But he didn’t seem to have inherited any of that signature Lantsov foolishness. “I admire your talent for improvisation. Really, I do. It’s almost disarmingly charming.”

“But?”

“But, I’m not buying it. It would’ve been too risky of a plan. And unless you’re more arrogant than I am - which I doubt - I don’t think you expected anyone to come looking.”

If she hadn’t been so annoyed by him intercepting her every move, she might have taken this as a compliment. Instead, she narrowed her eyes, finally irritated enough to reach up and grab his wrist. The rich, thick wool of his uniform was rough beneath her fingertips, golden buttons digging into her palm as she pulled his hand away from her face. She hated how aware of him she was when she let go.

Nikolai let her, grinning delightedly at the sudden display of insolence, as if he’d been waiting for it from the start. “Not particularly gentle. I like that.”

“Fine. Let’s stop pretending to flirt then.” Because that is what this was - make believe. She thought she could see something more sinister lurking beneath it. He didn’t believe she was meeting Zaitsev for a moonlit tryst between forbidden lovers - which, in all fairness, was an entirely correct assumption. He didn’t think she was truly interested in him either - which was mostly correct. She was busy plotting, but not blind. Which had to mean he thought there was more to this, and which meant she was in trouble. She just preferred her troubles to be more forthcoming, and less charming.

“Who says I’m pretending?”

She levelled him with a look. “Please. How did you know when and where I was to meet Zaitsev?”

He watched her for a moment, chin dipped, his eyes unreadable in the darkness. She thought he might have been smiling, but it was hard to tell as he turned on his heel and strolled away. There was something languorous and insolent about the way he moved, like he was a study in effortless regality, the moonlight glinting off the gold details of his uniform, his hands clasped behind his back. If it was meant to unsettle, well… it was doing its job.

“Now that would be telling,” he said, voice playful. “And I like to keep an air of mystery about myself. It adds to the charm, I think.”

It would have added to the charm if that mystery hadn’t been immediately threatening to her and her plans.

“Fine,” she ground out. “Why care to find out about it at all? Why care to follow me? You could’ve assumed any number of more straightforward reasons for my disinterest. I want to be a nun. I have several lovers and no energy to take on more. I don’t believe in marriage, especially not to men I don’t know who also happen to have a reputation.”

“So, which one is it?”

“Maybe it’s all the above.” She lifted a brow. “I’d make a terrible nun.”

“Saints, I’m half in love with you already.” With a flash of a charming grin, he leaned against one of the giant tree pots and looked at her. “I told you. You never introduced yourself, and this charade has been going on for three nights now.”

“So your explanation is that your ego made you do it?”

“My ego makes me do great many things, dear Miss Braam. A character fault, I know, but no one’s perfect.” He didn’t sound remotely sorry about it. “So, what’s my reputation?”

Deciding they weren’t going anywhere soon, Y/N made her way to a stone bench that ran along one side of a small fountain. The waterworks were off for the night, leaving the water a motionless, dark mirror behind her. “Other than being disgustingly charming and well educated? None.” She sat down and continued, interrupting him before he could start gloating. “But you are handsome and intelligent, and that makes the bad things a lot easier to keep under wraps.”

He considered her for a moment, surprisingly silent in his contemplation, before dipping his chin once and strolling over to where she sat. “An astute observation. Some might call it cynical, but I suppose it’s fair, given the circumstances.” Y/N had half expected him to defend himself, but Nikolai simply smiled down at her, as if he’d read her mind. “So, other than general disappointment in mankind. Why are you avoiding me?”

“Well, I have a perfectly sensible explanation for that.” She said leaning back on her hands and tipping her head to her shoulder as she looked up at him. At least he was a pretty sight - she’d give him that. “My parents are tentatively hopeful—” There was absolutely nothing tentative about her parents; she was lying through her teeth again. “But I know better—”

“Of course you do.”

“Would you stop driving me up the wall for two seconds?”

Then Nikolai was laughing, and Y/N realised that all the other times he’d done it was only a good mimicry of amusement. This was the real thing. Startling and unrestrained, it left her looking up at the glass ceiling in faux exasperation, trying to hide her smile.

“Anyway. It’s the crown prince’s hand that’s on the table, right? And you said it yourself - we Ketterdam princesses are a pragmatic bunch. As nice as it sounds, I’m no royalty. So why waste my breath?” She shrugged. “Your kingdom needs political alliances, not my money. And if I’m debasing myself like a dairy cow at a cattle fair, I’d at least prefer to have a chance. I, too, have an ego.”

When she dipped her head back down, she realised Nikolai had been watching her from where he stood, playing absentmindedly with the buttons of his cuff. “From what I’ve been told, your father is a very rich man,” he said after a moment of consideration. “And I hear that sort of thing makes a woman rather attractive. Political alliances can be bought.”

“Oh, is that why you keep flirting with me? Does my father’s money make me so irresistible?”

“Well, that and the insolence.” He smirked. “But mostly it’s the insolence. Us Ravkans, we’re just not as pragmatic.”

“I can tell.” She smiled at him, unable to help herself, before dipping her chin to the side as she dragged her fingertips along the cold surface of the water. “Besides, I’m not too keen on being shipped off to a foreign kingdom, much to my mother’s dismay.”

This was a half-truth, but Y/N was well-versed in those. Yes, her mother was very much dismayed. No, Y/N did not mind being shipped away from Ketterdam. She just wished to do it on her own terms. But Nikolai did not need to know that - homesickness was much easier to believe than whatever truths she hid in her heart.

“Not even for a crown?”

She blinked up at him. When he looked at her like that, she thought she could imagine him as something plucked out of a children’s book. Like he might be a knight in one of those terribly depressing Ravkan stories about dead martyred girls. Like he might hold her body close to his chest and mourn over her in a field of poppies, impressive even in tragedy. She supposed then that she understood why all the girls flocked to vie for his attention once they’d done their duty of doting on Vasily. This, she thought, is what a prince is supposed to be.

“I have no interest in crowns. They seem heavy.”

“What is it than interests you then?”

Freedom. Agency. All things that were hazy and indescribable to her. She smiled up at him. “Now, that would be telling. And I like to keep an air of mystery about myself, too.”

“Fair,” he conceded, the amusement only a faint twitch in the corner of his mouth. He was standing over her now, looking down as she sprawled back on the cold stone. She could feel the fabric of his pants brush against her dress, where the silk lay across her knee, thin and insubstantial. She’d almost forgotten for a moment that she was supposed to be annoyed about her failed meeting, about his prying, about the ungodly hour and no bed in sight. Instead, she allowed herself to be thrilled for just a second, let herself be foolish. She’d been afforded so little foolishness in her life.

“Why were you meeting him?” he asked then, voice quieter and more serious than it had been at any point before. It was a proper question, she realised, not a provocation or a taunt. He wanted an answer, and she knew she couldn’t give it to him, not really.

“He has something I need.” Want. She’d meant to say want instead of need. The word sounded too raw for her liking, too close to admitting to a lack of control. It was more of a truth than she’d meant to offer him.

She pushed herself up to stand, and Nikolai shifted to the side to give her space. He was still close, close enough that she could feel the heat radiating off his body, close enough that when she looked up at him, he could see the steely determination in her eyes. “Go on then, make your threats.”

His gaze slipped down to the stiff set of her shoulders, the way she curled her fingers into fists at her side, nails digging into her palms. He hummed, and she felt it reverberate in her chest. “I suppose I could threaten to drag you back to your parents. Demand an explanation?” He said it in such a way that it felt less like a threat than an offer. As if he’d meant to say, Is this what you’re asking for? But he looked like he found the mere idea of it repulsive, as if it were beneath him. She felt Nikolai dealt in charming grins and soft-spoken, elegant threats - dragging her to her parents must’ve seemed positively barbaric to him.

“Yes, I suppose you could.” She turned where she stood, so that now they were facing each other fully, inches separating them as she looked up. “I promise not to scream if you tell them you didn’t see who I was meeting with. Eryk’s done nothing wrong.”

He lifted a brow, a sinuous smile curving his lips. “Do you promise not to bite, too?”

Blood rushed furiously to her cheeks, indifferent to the fact that she was fighting desperately to keep her composure as she glared up at him. “I promise no such thing.”

He leaned in, almost imperceptibly, a look of terrible amusement in his eyes as he whispered, “Good.” Then he straightened back up, hands in his pocket, all graceful, unruffled confidence. “But I find those sorts of nefarious activities are better enjoyed when one is well-rested. Shall I escort you to your room? Make sure you don’t accidentally commit some act of treason on your way to it.”

She was careful to control her breathing, aware that she was one inhale too deep from being pressed against his chest. “Is that what this is about? You think I’m planning some grand act of treason with Zaitsev?”

“Well, you have that look about you. A bit insolent, a bit treasonous.”

“I thought you liked that.”

He made a soft tutting sound, looking deeply entertained by the defiant tilt of her chin. “Of course I like you. It doesn’t mean I will just let this go.”

“That’s not—,” she stuttered, blindsided by the matter-of-fact tone of his voice. “That’s not what I meant!”

“But you are blushing again.”

She hated this. No. She hated herself for not hating this nearly as much as she ought to. And she hated the fact he was aware of it, too. There was an uncanny perceptiveness to his eyes when he caught her gaze, something self-satisfied in the sinful curve of his smile. It was as if he could hear the jackrabbit flutter of her heart, could feel the restless warmth that spread across her skin.

“Enough, Your Grace. We don’t have time for this.” She hated how exasperation had bled into her voice, especially when Nikolai remained as calm and poised as ever, watching her. “I can hear the birds start their singing; soon, the servants will be up. Someone might see us.”

He held her eyes for a moment, silent, and she knew he was listening, that he could hear them too - the harbingers of dawn. It would be daylight soon. Then he nodded, a note of finality to his voice. “Very well. I’ll find you tomorrow. Threats are better when made over a glass of fine brandy, anyway.”

“No,” she said, too quickly. “Same place, same time.” She would never get a good night’s sleep.

But the damage was done. It must have been the high-pitched, panicked sound of that no, or the unguarded expression that flashed across her face. Whatever he’d seen, it made Nikolai shift his stance, gaze reassessing. “I will find you,” he repeated, then added with a smirk, “privately. Unless the lady prefers to save me a dance?”

“Why would I ever… oh.”

He was a picture of ease - shoulders loose, hands in his pocket - looking like he had all the time of the world. It made her overly aware of how locks of her hair had fallen out of her up-do, burdened with the late hour. Of how she pressed her shaky palm flat against her bodice, weary of its tightness. She envied him for his poise. She wanted to reach out and ruin it.

“Oh,” he repeated, smug. And he had every right to be - she would’ve gloated too if she’d been that efficient in finding just the right buttons to press. And he’d done it with such grace that part of Y/N was impressed against her better judgement.

Save me a dance. It was a threat, not a request.

She could almost see it now. Nikolai, impressive in his full regalia, strolling across the ballroom towards her, a picture of single-minded determination. A gloved hand offered and an upturned gaze, promising nothing but trouble. She would know it was all for show, that it was not real - but the Court wouldn’t. All they would see was a prince singling her out, boldly showing his favour, and out of the blue at that. She couldn’t think of a worse thing.

“That’s low,” she said, voice dripping acid. Inside, she was fifteen again, entirely out of her depth, her mother’s voice ringing in her head. Silly girl, she hissed. These are not the games we women can play and win.

“No, Miss Braam, it’s pragmatic. Simple. Elegant.” He would take her hand and spin her out of her carefully crafted obscurity, thrust her under the scrutiny while the waltz played. The realisation was a rope tightening around her wrists, binding her hands until all she could do was watch the situation spiral out of her control.

And he was watching her; she could feel it, but her mind was elsewhere as she turned away from him. The boning of her bodice making it hard to breathe, digging painfully into her hips. She felt along her finger for the smooth gold of her ring, and she spun it around. Once. Twice. Thrice. Breathe. Once more. You can figure this out.

“Miss Braam?” She heard him step around her, keeping at a respectful distance as he dipped his head to catch her eyes. She must’ve looked terribly pale for his voice to have suddenly softened. “No one will know, I promise. All I want to do is talk.”

“Oh, is that all?” she bit out, pinning him with a glare. “Well then, your will is my command. Right?” Gathering her skirts, she quickly lowered herself into a mocking curtsy, holding his gaze defiantly from beneath her lashes. Then she turned on her heel and marched for the door that led to the palace grounds, heels striking the ground with an angry staccato.

“That was not my intention—”

She ignored his voice and the sound of his boots behind her, focusing instead on tugging angrily on the wrought iron handle that refused to budge beneath her hands. She tugged at it again, a frustrated sound escaping her. “They are plants for Ghezen’s sake, not the Royal treasury. Is this truly necessary?” She reached up to pull another pin out of her hair, a lock slipping down to brush against her bare shoulder. Now she probably looked like she actually had been doing something terribly interesting, not just arguing in circles with an entitled prince.

“They are expensive plants,” he said from somewhere beside her. “Are you trying to pick the lock?”

“I do not try to do anything, Your Highness. How do you think I got in here before?”

She was just about to lower herself into a crouch when she felt his hand at her elbow, pulling her up. When she turned to glare at him, she found him dangling a bundle of ornate keys from his forefinger, eyebrow raised. “May I?”

It had occurred to her to refuse him on principle - but it was near dawn, and she had been trying to keep that stubborn, vindictive part of herself in check for a while now. This was good practice. She nodded and looked up at the glass ceiling, focusing on the deep, lazy stretch of the night sky beyond instead of the way his shoulder brushed against her arm as he came closer and unlocked the door.

“I hope you will reconsider my request for that dance at some point.”

She looked at him, incredulous. “You threatened me with it.”

“Yes, it is an unfortunate coincidence that the thing I wish for is the same as the thing that threatens you.” He held her gaze for a moment, a smile playing across his lips, before he looked down between them. Y/N followed his gaze reflexively, frowning when she realised there was a flower in them, so delicate and white that it almost blended into the silk of his gloves. “Since you don’t like the smell of jasmine,” he said and held it out to her.

Y/N stared, uncertain. Curiosity was a familiar, unrelenting beast inside her mind, and she decided she did not have the energy to fight it tonight. “What is it?”

“Gardenia. A personal favourite.” He waited for her to take it from his hand, then smiled at her. “Go. I’ll wait ten minutes and leave out the other door.” With that, he turned and strolled back in the other direction - unhurried, languid, and infuriatingly prepossessing. His voice carried over to her as he looked back over his shoulder. “Goodnight, Miss Braam. I look forward to tomorrow.”

For a moment, Y/N remained standing there, still reeling, before she forced her limbs to comply and stumbled out onto the grounds, desperate for fresh air. It was only then, and once her senses had cleared on her way back to her bedroom, that she realised he hadn’t lied about the flower. Its fragrance was a sweet, charming thing.

If later on she put it in a small crystal glass and placed it on her nightstand, that was only because she hated seeing flowers go to waste. And if her mind was full of its fragrance and the memory of Nikolai’s fingers running along the slope of her jaw, she blamed it on weariness and the uncontrollable nature of dreams.

[lina-lovebug]

"Do not touch me. Nik, do not-"

It was like he knew my body more than I did. Every step I took back from him, he took two more forward. Every second I stared at him, he spent hundreds more looking at me. Even now, with my back against the wall, his arm pulled me flush against his chest, and all I wanted - all I desired was to fall into him.

"Look at me," He said, his voice barely above a whisper as our foreheads were pressed together and our lips inches apart.

"Look at me, please," His voice pleaded. How did it come to this? How could I, a lowly Grisha, have managed to get the Prince Nikolai Lantsov, to be begging just for me to look at him?

My eyes slowly opened, meeting his intense and needy gaze. I could tell that he wanted to do was kiss me, to taste the cherries on my lips, but he restrained himself.

"We cannot be doing this," I let out, "you are engaged to Alina."

"I burn for you," He breathed out, his eyes burning into my own all of the emotions he held in for me.

"I spend every moment of every day wondering if you think of me. I search any room I enter in hopes of seeing a glimpse of your smile. You bring me to my knees at the very thought of you," He expressed.

"I would spend everyday running from my duties if it meant getting to kiss you one more time. So please, let me kiss you."

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If I get enough likes and comments, this could be a fanfic when summer starts

[futurecorps3]

okay but imagine meeting nikolai at a masquerade ball :00

𝐅𝐚𝐜𝐚𝐝𝐞

Masterlist<3

Summary: A pleasant surprise in the masquerade's ball. Pairing: Nikolai Lantsov x fem!reader Warnings: None I think!! Word Count: 1.4K Requested: Yes

A/N: THE ROMANCE THAT MASQUERADES CARRY HAS ME ON A CHOKEHOLD SINCE I SAW THIS REQUEST TYSM NONNIE! hope u like it and don't mind it's a bit short. <3

˚ · • . ° .

The corset was far too tight. She didn't get to wear her favorite color. The heels were killing her. More than two men had already approached her with terrible openers and she just wanted to go home. Y/N was really trying not to be selfish. She truly was; this night was very special for her father, as the masquerade ball was the first royal event her family could attend.

After years of bad luck with her parents' work, somehow, with savings and a recent escalade of people needing construction materials from all over the continent, they developed a small fortune into a big family-owned business that produced lots of money, meaning they went from being a middle-class family in Os Alta to making business with nobles on behalf of the king.

Word got around, and long-story short, his youngest daughter was forced to attend this ball with her parents. Looking around the room, there was no way they fit in here, but it was a dream of her father's, so she opted to get a tad tipsy with champagne and dance a little before she could go home. The room smelt like booze, expensive perfume, and laughter could be heard from every corner.

What did they find so amusing? From her point of view, the things she now had to get used to were pointless, boring and merely there to make positive appearances with the royal family, who wouldn't bat an eye at them, scarcely noticing their attempts. The girl sighed, watching some other boy in a fancy suit and golden mask approach her from the front, ready to reject him "nicely" as her father had suggested.

Then, a voice.

"This is all incredibly stupid." Simple.

Y/N turned around, finding a blonde head of hair with a blue mask staring at her. He was sporting a uniform like jacket with some medals over it and golden details all over... a general's son, surely. She wasn't sure if he was speaking to her or just wondering out loud since he was sweaty and short of breath, probably from dancing. However, he seemed to have read her mind, and that was enough to start a conversation.

"It is, people trying to impress people who won't even look at them directly in the eye." She chuckled, sinking into her glass of champagne, to which the boy gave a surprised stare. "You seem to have it against the royal family". Oh no. This was in no way a good start, or the setting to voice her complaints about the general injustice lived in her country.

"No! Not at all! I just-" "It's okay. I get it. They think they're too good for anyone, even though all these people are the backbone of their country, not the institution they represent. Ravka would be nothing without its people". A sigh of relief. Did this mystery man get it? He surely wasn't poor or looked like he could care less about social injustice and unfair judgments.

"How would you know?" She questioned, and he was amused, very amused. "Well, let's say I've done my own research over this land, contrary to my family's wishes". His family's wishes? Military men and women came from usually underprivileged areas. Maybe he was the son of some snobbish general who didn't want his precious boy to hang around peasants, but he decided against it.

Suddenly, he enveloped her hand in his, kissing the back of it while looking into her eyes. "Nikolai Lantsov", he introduced himself, lowering it back next to a seemingly limp body.

Oh.

People said he'd show up, but no one really believed it after many failed reunions who promised the prince's attendance. She should bow, her mom told her that she should if she ran into some member of the royal family. Her body reacted to her thoughts, grabbing a fistful of fabric around her and bending her knees in a polite bow. "Moi tsarevich... I'm so sorry, you must know I don't think sorely of our king and queen, it was merely an observation. Apologies".

Nikolai was awfully quiet. Y/N's head was down and all she could see were his shoes and people passing by. Then he laughed. He laughed. "Come on, dear, get up" he offered her his hand and stood straight once again, red in her cheeks. "First of all, call me Nikolai-" "Y/N" "-call me Nikolai, Y/N. Second, no need to apologize as I do think sorely of my family's ruling over the country. And third, that's not how I wanted to make you blush so please calm down, it's okay".

How could that ever be okay? Yes, the younger prince was greatly known for having major discrepancies with his parents and the model of government that was being followed, but it was only okay if HE said it. Not some random girl who just showed up and ran her mouth over the literal king and queen of her nation. She always found a way of fucking up.

"I always talk too much, I'm really sorry moi tsa-" "Nikolai". It felt wrong in her mouth, to be on first-name terms with such an important figure. She said it anyway, that charming smile of his making her weak on the knees and forgetting any kind of stupid hierarchy she was supposed to follow. "Nikolai".

"Why do you assume that's a bad thing?" he said, taking two glasses of whiskey from a waiter who was passing by, downing one and giving her the other "Hm?". She didn't quite hear the question, too focused on how his hands looked with so many pretty rings to the way his eyebrows furrowed briefly at the burning liquid. "Why do you assume talking too much is a bad thing?"

Well, that was new. This entire exchange was, really.

"Well I-" no words. She didn't know. He laughed. "You've been told it is, and I think it to be awfully human, therefore awfully lovely. We like being heard, and there is no reason why we shouldn't be". Another blush crept up her cheeks. Was he always like this? Y/N found, years later, that he had a certain fixation on questioning anything and everything around him.

He questioned limits, pre-impossed ideas, authority, words and virtually anything those beautiful blue eyes laid. Nikolai was that kind of special you find once in your life. "Do you uhm... want to get out of here?" she spat, not really thinking anymore. She wanted more of that. Whatever spell his charm casted upon her was doing wonders. "To where, exactly, darling?" he said, raising his left eyebrow slightly.

Teasingly.

"No, no! By no means am I suggesting something of such nature... I just want to talk to you" "We already are, love" "I'm aware, love. I mean, away from the noise and all these creepily masked people". Silence for a tiny moment. Then he offered his arm out to her, placing the glass he was holding previously on a table and directing his new acquaintance to the back exit.

When they got to the garden, the moon was up and she was the only witness to such an enchanting night for the young prince and the girl. At the time, their lifes didn't fit at all. Two opposites. But oh did their souls knew how to dance. Nikolai found himself at peace, away from the facade he kept around and the appearances to be kept long forgotten as he laughed with Y/N.

"You talk like a book," he said, smiling as they sat near one of the many fountains. You could hear the water streaming down cobblestones and some noises coming from the bushes, the noise from the party becoming merely a background behind their chat. Y/n couldn't help but laugh. "What is that supposed to mean?". Their thighs were touching and she could feel Nikolai tense up a little.

"You do! There are some... things you say that seem taken out of a poetry book." "Like what?" Her cheeks warmed at that, waiting eagerly for an answer to one of the most creative observations someone had made about her. "You said that if love isn't passionate and extraordinary, then it's a waste of time because there are too many mediocre things in life and love shouldn't be one of them" "It's just what I think" she shyly replied, fidgeting with her mask, long gone since they started their walk.

"Then that pretty little mind of yours must be a thrill to discover" "Would you?" "What?" "Like to discover it" "I'd love to, dear" Nikolai smiled sweetly, blue orbs swimming in hers. It was the night the fox found shelter. The night they fell in love.

[in-my-feels-probably]

Hi, could you write a Nikolai X Shadow Summoner!Reader with the songs "mirrorball" and "the archer"?

You can that would be cool but if not not that's fine also🙂

Holding Onto A Mirrorball

Request: Hi, could you write a Nikolai X Shadow Summoner!Reader with the songs "mirrorball" and "the archer"?

Hi! I’m so sorry for the wait, I was busy for a while and then I had writer's block. I had some fics I needed to post new chapters for, but I’m ready to start doing requests again. This turned out to be really long, I just kept writing and writing and it got a little out of hand. Sorry, hopefully it was worth the wait to get to this length. Thank you again for being so patient, and I hope you enjoy!

Just wanted to warn you first, I don’t know how to translate things, and I don’t know how to speak or write in these languages. I used as many already translated words and phrases I could find in Ravkan and used them where I could, but sometimes I had to use Russian where I couldn’t find the right phrasing. And I'm not sure if it’s correct, sorry if it’s wrong, it’s just little things here and there I thought it would be cute to use it for.

Also, I made the reader the Darkling’s sister. It was easier for me to write that way, so hopefully that’s alright with you. If not, and you want me to alter this or write you something else, I’m happy to do so :)

(Warnings: swearing, shitty translations, death, mentions of Genya’s assault, let me know if i missed anything)

—

I'm a mirrorball

I can change everything about me to fit in

I never grew up, it's getting so old

Help me hold onto you

I've been the archer

I've been the prey

You have lived a thousand lives. 

Your Mother was Baghra, the daughter of Morozova, and your older brother was Aleksander, otherwise known as the Darkling. 

Like your brother, you were a Shadow Summoner as well. Merzost created your powers, but unlike him, you weren’t an amplifier. You were strong enough against other Grisha, but against him, you couldn’t hold your own. 

In your early life, you didn’t need to be capable of beating him. 

You loved him like any sister would love their brother. And he never would have hurt you with his powers, knowing that you’d never do anything to hurt him with yours. 

In the early days, he hardly used his powers at all. Grisha were persecuted more in that age than any other time in history, and your Mother warned you both never to use your powers in front of the otkazat’sya. You lived a nomadic lifestyle, never staying in one place for more than a month at a time. You could recall one instance where you had to leave earlier than normal—enduring your Mother’s wrath—because your brother accidentally let another Grisha child touch him.

It was a single moment of forgetfulness on his part. But it nearly ruined your family. 

You had to be no older than ten, and he was a few years older than you. A pretty girl fell and scraped her knee at the bank of a river on the outskirts of a village you were staying at, and Aleksander offered his hand to help her up. He had no idea she was a Squaller, she had kept quiet about it herself. But the second he took her hand in his, the gentle breeze around you picked up into a storm’s gust, strong enough to take down the nearby trees. 

She had ripped her hand away, eyes widening in fear. Aleksander stood in shock, unable to get his feet to move. The world had yet to harden him, and he lived in constant paranoia of people discovering his secret. Despite being the younger of the two of you, you had to be the one to save him. 

The girl tried to run back to the village, no doubt ready to tell everyone what she had seen, but you wrapped her in a cloud of darkness before she could leave. Not enough to hurt her in any way, just enough to temporarily blind her so she couldn’t see which way to run. By the time the cloud disappeared, you had grabbed your brother’s hand and frantically dragged him halfway home. 

Your Mother was furious, but far more scared for you than she was angry with you. You fled that evening, not stopping till you were miles and miles away. 

That night, Aleksander sat you down after your Mother had gone to sleep. “I’m sorry. I should have been more careful. You shouldn’t have had to do that for me.”

“You would have done it for me,” you said quietly, not taking your eyes off of the embers of the fire he had built. 

You were freezing, but you couldn’t afford to make the flames any bigger. Someone could see, and if they were hunting you, it would make it that much easier for you to get caught. 

Sighing, he took off the outer layer of his coat, wrapping it around your shoulders. 

“You’ll get cold,” you said, trying to take it off. 

But he stopped you, shaking his head. “I’m warm enough. Just take it. Consider it a token of my gratitude for what you did today.”

You finally relented, staying silent. He grinned at his victory, turning himself back to the fire. You both were quiet for the rest of the evening. 

It was the last time you talked about what you did for him. 

As the years passed, the world hardened him. It hardened you both, but it affected him far worse than it did you. He began to shut you out, not confiding in you as much as he used to. You knew he was lonely, but his pride wouldn’t let him open himself back up to you. And as years turned into decades, you stopped pushing. 

The worst day was the day he created the Fold. 

His experimentation with darkness was one you didn’t condone, but there was nothing you could do to stop him. And while you blamed him for the Fold’s creation, and could never forgive him for it, you also understood. You felt pity for him, even. 

The King’s Army killed his love at the time, and he could no longer turn a blind eye to the horrors committed against Grisha. In a blast of fury and grief, the Fold was created. Its drastic effects weren’t anticipated, even by him, and so you couldn’t truly blame him for it. 

What you could blame him for was his plan to weaponize it. 

But in order to do that, he needed a Sun Summoner, and that type of Grisha was nothing more than a myth, at least to your knowledge. In all your lifetime, you had never come across one, or even heard a whisper of one’s existence. So, you had to wait. And waiting meant living, your life dragging on.

It was exhausting, never growing up. 

You reached maturity, and practically stopped aging. Despite your growing resentment for your family and your powers, you stayed by your brother’s side. Leaving him would mean being completely and utterly alone, and you didn’t think you could handle your existence on your own. You struggled with your powers as is, and only having two other people alive with the same powers as you meant that you had no choice but to stay with him. 

You did try to leave, once. It was drastic, and you were emotional about it, and you had almost convinced yourself to go. But in a rare moment of vulnerability, your brother practically begged you on his knees not to go. He promised to do better, and shocked from his cracking resolve, you begrudgingly believed him.

Every so often, you’d have to reinvent yourselves. Throw people off your scent before they could realize that you never aged. You took on dozens of aliases, and eventually, you were detached from yourself. From your old life. 

It was a blessing and a curse.

Eventually, you made it all the way to the Little Palace. Slowly but surely, the Second Army full of Grisha was formed, and your brother took the head position as General to rule over them all. 

You stayed and trained, eventually finding peace with being around people who were like you. Grisha, who were loved and wanted for their powers. Feared, but because of what they could do, not because of who they were. You grew into yourself, and so did your brother. 

You were foolish enough to believe he had changed. 

But when the Sun Summoner finally came along, you knew just how wrong you had been. 

He collared Alina, enslaving her to his will. He took her powers, controlling her to do his bidding. In one day, he decimated an entire city with the might of the Fold. You tried to fight him and help Alina and her friends, but he was just too strong. 

When he was supposedly killed, you were devastated. 

You didn’t think you’d feel so strongly about his death until the day it came. You watched Mal fight him. You watched the Fold—a creation of his own making—take him. And when it took him, you fell to your knees. You thought the grief would swallow you up whole.

But then you felt a hand on your shoulder, and you looked up to see Alina. 

And with her came hope. 

One day, she would be strong enough to destroy your brother’s creation, and you vowed that you would be by her side to help her. You had spent far too much of your life standing by while Aleksander made people suffer, and you wouldn’t let the Sun Summoner—a powerful but innocent girl barely of age—be one of his victims any longer. 

—

Combat, I'm ready for combat

I say I don't want that, but what if I do?

I know they said the end is near

But I'm still on my tallest tiptoes

Spinning in my highest heels, love

Shining just for you

The mix of emotions you felt when your brother appeared to you out of the Fold hit you like a punch to the gut. 

You had returned to the Little Palace to help the First and Second Army rebuild. 

The King and Queen were left in shambles, along with their eldest son. Their youngest had yet to return, and you hoped he would be more competent than his family was when he finally made the choice to come home.

But more than anyone, you came to help your Mother. 

She was distraught after what happened to Alina, wracked with guilt under the weight of what her own blood could do. She was glad to have a daughter who wasn’t like him, but she had a difficult time with you, too. If she had trained you better, or spent more time with you, maybe she could have made you stronger. Maybe she would have felt like she could trust you enough to tell you earlier what her plan with Alina was, and maybe you could have stopped your brother before he did what he did. Now he was gone, and all she had left was you. 

And she wasn’t sure that was enough.

You had barely returned home before you heard the news of the sightings of your brother. You didn’t believe the reports. You wouldn’t believe anything unless he was standing in front of you, and you could see him with your own eyes. 

And in his usual fashion, he made quite the entrance. 

Despite your hatred for what he did, you couldn’t help but feel just the slightest bit of relief that he was alive. He was family, and there was nothing you could do to change that. And part of you could still remember the sweet little boy he was, always kind to you and protective over you. You wished you could have that back, and you couldn’t let go of the possibility that maybe that piece of him was still somewhere inside, buried deep.

You couldn’t help yourself the second he knocked on your door, rushing into his arms like a scared little kid. 

“It’s alright, little sister. I’m here,” he murmured, holding you tight. 

You asked him how he managed to stay alive, in shock at the trail of events that happened after Alina pulled the skiff from the Fold. You noticed the scars along his face as he spoke, a sick feeling settling in your stomach. 

It slowly dissipated as he told you how he saved a band of Grisha including Genya, one of your only friends you had at the Little Palace. While your brother was feared, he was also respected. You were just feared. And making friends didn’t come easy to you, so you were quite alone until Genya came along. She made everything better. People didn’t like her much either, so the two of you were isolated together.

Knowing he saved her showed that there was a small part of him that was still good. 

Of course he had to crush any bits of hope you clung to when he tried to turn you to his side. He preached about his cause, wanting you to pledge your loyalty. 

“We can start over,” he pleaded, holding you by your shoulders. “We have all the time in the world. Join me. Help me find Alina. We can do extraordinary things if we work together. We can take our country back.”

“I knew there was darkness in you, but I never could have imagined you’d fall this far. Is our country worth the lives of thousands upon thousands of innocents? Is the Fold really so precious to you that reducing Alina to nothing but a weapon is justifiable? Is it worth it?”

His eyes darkened, his grip tightening. “If it means liberating our people, I’ll kill every last one of them myself…and I’ll use Alina to do it.”

“Have you learned nothing over all these years?” You asked, ripping yourself out of his hold. “They’re people, Aleksander. Just like Grisha. Alina is not a pawn for you to use. You’d think after all these years that you would have learned a little compassion.”

“Compassion? You want me to have compassion for the girl who just tried to kill me? For the tracker, who wants nothing more than to see me dead? And all of the miserable insignificant people who would sooner watch me burn at the stake than try to make peace?”

You scoffed, shaking your head. “You don’t want peace. You want to win. You want everyone pinned under your thumb, so you can bend them to your will. Don’t speak to me like your heart lies with our people’s interest. It lies with your own.”

“It used to lie with you,” he said softly, his jaw clenched. “And it can again. I saw the little girl in you today. The one who was missing her older brother. The one who cried for him when she thought he was gone.”

“Don’t—” You choked out. 

He interrupted you, taking your hand. “Come back to me. Stay by my side. Help me find Alina, and I promise, we’ll do great things. And when it’s done…we’ll go. Just you and me. We can start over and live the life we were supposed to live, not mourn the one that was taken from us. Join me. Please.”

You couldn’t stop the tears from welling up, clouding your vision. You squeezed his hand, taking a breath, before you let it go. A tear slipped down your cheek as you dropped his hand, bringing yours back to your side.

“I love you, brother. Probably more than I should. But I will not be a part of this. I won’t watch you destroy yourself like this, and I most certainly won’t help you do it.”

“Y/N—”

“Do what you must. I can't stop you. But I’m praying to the Saints that Alina can. And if you’re forcing me to choose a side, then so be it…I choose hers. I’m sorry.”

And then he did something you thought he’d never do. Something that—despite all his evilness and wrongdoings—you never would have expected him to stoop so low as to utter with nothing but pure hate in his voice.

He called you nichyevo.

Nothing.

Ironic then, how you’d later discover that the shadow army he created from the Fold to guard himself was called the nichevo’ya. 

Nothings.

You gasped, taking a wobbly step back as you spoke through gritted teeth. “How dare you? After all that I’ve put up with for you. I’ve stuck by you! And you can’t find it in yourself to treat me with an ounce of love?”

He remained quiet, his face stone cold. You shook your head, backing up to the door. 

“I’m going,” you said, fighting back tears. “To somewhere I’m wanted. Somewhere I’m needed.”

His laughter was dark. “Nobody needs you, little sister. Do you know what the townspeople call you? Koroleva Nabresh. They’ll always fear you for what you are. They’ll never see you as anything else but a weapon.”

Queen of Shadows.

“Then I’ll be her weapon,” you spat, opening the door. “I don’t know where Alina is, but I swear to all the Saints, I’d rather die trying to find her than live to see her fall.”

He was angry now, but there was a glint of fear in his eye. “She’ll never want you. There’s no one in the world out there who will ever want you. I’m all you have.”

“I’ve heard enough! Goodbye, Aleksander…I hope that after I’m gone, you’ll realize that you’ve just lost the one person who has ever truly cared about you forever.”

—

You by some miracle found Alina a few weeks after you left the Little Palace. 

You knew she was looking for amplifiers, and there were whispers that the Sea Whip had been found. The next step for her would be to regroup and figure out what to do next, including researching where another amplifier could be found. You knew your brother would be looking for her as well, so you had to think strategically about how to find Alina.

One of the few perks of being centuries old was knowing all the potential locations battered and bruised Grisha would gather in times of war. 

The Spinning Wheel was the first place you looked. 

After all, you were alive when it was built, and you knew that it started as a Ravkan base. Now, although technically part of Fjerda, it was abandoned and unpatrolled, open to anyone who needed to claim it. And a band of Grisha and First Army soldiers who knew of its existence would know that as well. 

You were right, arriving soon after Alina did.

And who else would she be backed by other than Nikolai Lantsov, second son of the Ravkan Throne? Otherwise known as Sturmhond, an infamous privateer whose name you had heard over the past few years numerous times. Whispers of him stretched all the way from Novyi Zem to Ketterdam.

Nikolai and his crew, Tolya and Tamar, seemed quite protective over Alina, as was to be expected. It was still a shock though, to have a sword, axe, and pistol pointed at your face all at the same time. 

“She’s Koroleva Nabresh, Alina,” Tamar warned.

“How do we know you aren’t with him? You're his sister,” Nikolai asked, keeping his gun raised. 

Alina was quick to step in front of them. “She won’t hurt me. Y/N hates him as much as I do. She wouldn’t have come all this way unless she was on our side. She fought with her life in the Fold, and we couldn’t have beaten him without her. Stand down.”

“She’s right,” you said, but you kept your hands raised in surrender to help prove your point. “If I wanted to kill any of you, I could have done it the second I reached the gates—”

“Not a good start, love,” Tamar said, but she was slowly lowering her axe with a curious look in her eye. 

“Just hear me out, please…I promise, I will never use my powers to hurt any of you. I’m not like my brother, I swear. I hate what he’s done, and if I was as strong as him, I would have tried to stop him sooner. But now…he’s gone too far. I see that now. And I refuse to stand by any longer while he leaves chaos and devastation in his wake. I’d rather die fighting for the right side than live another day under his control. And Alina, I’m so sorry it’s come to this. I should have come to you sooner. But if you let me stay, I will fight for you. I’ll do whatever you ask of me, and whatever it takes to make sure my brother can’t hurt anyone ever again. I have intel on him, I know how he thinks, and I know how to fight him. Alina, please…let me help.”

Alina didn’t know what it was about you, but she knew she could trust you. Nobody had been more manipulated and betrayed by your brother than you had, and if you had finally left him, it was for good. Alina and her friends watched you silently, before they all turned to her for an answer. It was up to her to decide who she wanted protecting her, and they would respect any decision she made. They could offer advice all they wanted to, but in the end, it was up to her. 

And when she placed her hand on your arm, giving you a sympathetic smile, they respected her choice. 

“Welcome,” Tolya greeted politely, offering you a hand to shake. “You’re making the right choice.”

“I know,” you agreed, trying to ignore the guilt and sorrow that was building up in your chest. 

Later that evening after an introduction to everyone—and a debrief on what they had done so far and what they were planning to do next—you found yourself alone with the Prince himself. He was in the observatory, looking through a telescope when you walked in the door. 

“What are you doing up so late, Your Grace?” You asked, lightly chuckling when he jumped at the sound of your voice. 

“I could ask you the same question,” he mused, taking a calming breath. “And don’t call me ‘Your Grace.’ Nikolai is quite alright with me.”

You chuckled awkwardly, nodding. “Nikolai it is, then.”

“Are you alright? Settling in?”

You shrugged, fidgeting with your sleeve. “I guess so. I couldn’t sleep. I’ve never been on my own this long, and certainly not this far. I just…don’t really know what to do with myself right now.”

Nikolai nodded, grinning. “I know the feeling. I get it every time I return to court. Out at sea, I’m in my element. But back home? I was raised there, and yet it is the most foreign place I’ve ever been to.”

“I’ve heard of your adventures at sea. Sturmhond is quite the character.”

“He’s alright. A bit cocky for my taste, but he’s dashingly handsome and charming, which I think makes up for it,” Nikolai mused, his grin widening when you smiled. 

“Clever,” you grinned. 

It was quiet for a moment as he kept his gaze on you, leaning over his desk. He finally stood up straight, stepping around his desk to come stand next to you. 

“You’ve very brave, aren’t you?” He finally said softly, giving you a look of genuine adoration.

You flushed, raising a brow. “What do you mean?”

“For leaving your brother. You say you hate him, which may very well be true, but he’s still your brother. You’ll always care for him in some way. And I know how old you are—well, generally speaking, I’m not actually sure about the exact number—and I know you’ve been with him a long time. It took a lot of courage to leave his side. He could have reacted harshly—”

“He did,” you interrupted, internally berating yourself when you realized you had said that out loud. “I mean, uh…well, I told him I was leaving for good. To find Alina, wherever she was. He tried to convince me to join him, but I told him I wouldn’t help him or stand by while he wreaked havoc. And…he called me nichyevo.”

Nikolai’s eyes widened in shock. “Nothing.”

You nodded, casting your eyes to the floor. Taking a deep breath, you willed yourself not to cry. Crying over your brother wasn’t worth it, and you had already mourned him once. You wouldn’t mourn his loss a second time, even though he was still alive. You were pulled from your thoughts when a warm hand rested on your arm. You looked over to see Nikolai, smiling warmly. 

“I know we’ve never met, and I don’t know much about you. But I can say with absolute certainty that you aren’t nothing. He’s wrong. I promise you, he doesn’t know what he’s talking about. As far as I can tell, you are quite far from nothing.”

You smiled. “Actually, we have met once. Well, I met you.”

His eyes widened. “What? When?”

“Aleksander made us return when your brother came of age. The King was looking for a new General, and my brother was ready to take over the position again. We attended a party for your brother, and you were there. You looked positively bored to tears, and ready to escape the first chance you got. But your Mother was watching you, and I could tell she wouldn’t have been kind if you misbehaved in front of all her guests.”

Nikolai smiled at the memory, suddenly realizing. “I remember! Saints, you’re the girl who slipped me a drink. I had to choke it down—Mother always did like the strong stuff—but it made the evening more bearable. I tried looking for you later, but you must have already left.”

“I left soon after my brother talked to the King. And by the time we returned to the palace, you had already been shipped off to the other side of Ravka, and then you joined the First Army. I never got another chance to meet you, until now.”

Nikolai stood up from against his desk, offering you his hand. You hesitated, but eventually his warm smile pulled you in, and you let him take yours. He gave it a squeeze, running his thumb along the back of your knuckles.

“I must say, it is nice to meet you…again,” he chuckled, letting your hand go. “I’ve heard stories. I’m glad to know that most of them aren’t true.”

“Stories? Do people actually talk about me?”

He shrugged. “People talk about the Darkling—”

“And Koroleva Nabresh,” you finished, sighing. “I guess that’s my fault for staying with my brother. I can’t blame them for assuming I’m the same as him.”

Nikolai shook his head. “You’re not like him. Like I said, I know I haven't known you long…but you’re not him. And if Alina trusts you, I trust you.”

“How optimistic of you,” you mused, making him smirk. 

“Unfortunately, it’s who I am,” he grinned, huffing out a laugh. “Anyway, since we’re both awake…I wouldn’t mind getting to know you better. And before you say no, I promise I won’t ask you how old you are. My Mother would skin me if she found out I inquired about a lady’s age.”

You didn’t know what it was about him, but he was incredibly easy to open up to. You had spent the whole day—and the past few weeks—feeling incredibly guilty about leaving your brother. It was the right choice, but that didn’t mean it was an easy one. And you had felt completely and utterly alone…up until now. 

For whatever reason, call it boredom or loneliness, you couldn’t say no. 

“Well, since we’ve got that question squared away…I’d like that. Ask away.”

—

Who could ever leave me, darling?

But who could stay?

I wake in the night, I pace like a ghost

The room is on fire, invisible smoke

And all of my heroes die all alone

Help me hold onto you

Over the next few weeks, you became good friends with Nikolai. And eventually, you became more than friends. 

He was one of the only people that made you feel welcome. 

Tamar and Tolya were nice enough, but they were often busy. And Mal was always by Alina’s side, never gone for long. He was nice too, but wary. Alina was perhaps the most understanding, but she was by far the most busy. Training took up most of her days when she wasn't attempting to look for the Firebird. Zoya—the one person other than Alina that you actually knew beforehand—had traveled to Ketterdam on Nikolai’s orders, and you had yet to see her again. Everyone else didn’t know you personally, and they seemed angry at you or afraid of you, steering clear. 

If it weren’t for Nikolai, you’d be entirely alone.

You spent your days avoiding other people. One in particular was Nikolai’s Mother, the Queen. She wasn’t too fond of being in forced proximity with yet another person she considered a traitor to the Crown. It took Nikolai a week to get her to stop hurling insults, trying to order her guards to seize you at every opportunity. And while your days were spent in isolation, your nights were anything but isolated. 

At night, you were plagued with nightmares, haunted by every mistake of your past. 

The first few weeks, they’d come every night. And—unfortunately for you—Nikolai’s room was right next to yours. Although his crew became more and more trusting of you with each day, they still wanted to keep an eye on you. And they thought the best way of doing that was by keeping you close. Ten feet away from his guards at all times, to be exact. 

Most nights, you could manage them yourself. You’d wake and pace around your room, distracting yourself until you fell back asleep or the sun came up—whichever came first. And you’d ignore them every morning, forcing yourself to forget about them until the next night. But on other nights, you couldn’t ignore them. 

And neither could Nikolai. 

Apparently, you had a habit of shouting in your sleep. For a week, Nikolai ignored the sounds, choosing not to talk to you about it the next day. Eventually, he started asking his guards to knock on your door and make sure you were alright. You thought nothing of it, assuming the people protecting Alina were just keeping an eye on you. 

That is until Nikolai showed up at your door himself, wanting to make sure you were safe with his own eyes.

You stumbled out of bed and answered the door like normal, expecting a guard, when you took a step back in shock when you saw the Prince of Ravka standing in front of you. Cautiously, you opened the door, allowing him to step in. You desperately tried to ignore his lack of dress, pushing the image of his open shirt to the back of your mind.

“Nikolai? Are you alright?” You asked, turning to sit on the sofa in front of the fireplace. 

You still marveled at the room they put you in. While your brother’s quarters were fit for a king, yours weren’t even in the same wing of the palace. You had forgotten how absurd the decorating in these types of rooms could be, but even you couldn’t deny how comfortable a couch in front of a roaring fire on a cold evening was. 

“I’m fine, darling,” he said, sitting down next to you. “Are you?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

He grimaced, letting out a sigh, as if breaking the news to you was just as hard on him as it would be on you. “Well…you were screaming. In your sleep.”

You tensed, sitting up straight. “Was I?”

“Don’t be coy,” he mused, though his tone was still gentle. Cautious. “You know as well as I do that my guards have looked in on you at least three nights this week.”

“Shit,” you sighed, rubbing your eyes. 

“Didn’t think anyone would notice?”

“Didn’t think anyone would care,” you corrected, raising a brow when his eyes softened on you. “I didn’t realize that was what they were doing.”

“You think I don’t care?” 

You shrugged. “I wouldn’t expect you to. You hardly know me.”

“You’re on our side now,” he explained, looking you in the eye. “For better or for worse, that means something to all of us. To me. I may not know much about you, but no one deserves to live their nights in fear. Trust me, I know. I wouldn’t wish it on anyone.”

“Not even my brother?” You asked, and Nikolai was silent for a moment as he pondered your question. 

“No,” he finally said, shaking his head. “Not even him. It’s strange, but I don’t wish them on him at all. He’ll pay the price for what he’s done, and that’s enough. Nightmares…those kinds of dreams haunt anyone. And—with all your brother has done—I imagine his nightmares must be quite the show. I want him to suffer, that’s true…but not like that.”

You were at a loss for words. Nikolai possessed an amount of empathy that shocked you, even after all that he’d endured. His love for people and his compassion to make life better for everyone around him was one of his most endearing qualities, as you’d learned in your short time together. 

Nikolai laid a hand on your arm, dragging you from your thoughts. “Is that what you were dreaming about? Your brother?”

You sighed, nodding. “He was part of it, yes. I won’t bore you with the details.”

“No, no…I want to hear. Seriously, you can tell me, I'm here to listen. If you’re comfortable telling me, that is,” he said. 

His hand slipped down your arm into your open palm, intertwining your fingers. The action was innocent, but you could feel your cheeks flush as he gently squeezed your hand. You took a breath, preparing yourself. 

“Well…it always starts the same. In the village my Mother brought us to when I was a child. We were on the run again, trying to find somewhere we’d be safe—at least for a little while. Anyway, Aleksander was trying to teach me to use my powers. He was always better with them than me. Quite the natural. It’s weird, every time I have this dream…it starts out good. Must be some sick little joke. Karma for sticking with him for so long.”

“I don’t think so,” he said, shaking his head. “Please, continue.”

You nodded, taking a breath. “You know what the Cut is right? Alina has been practicing her version of it.”

Nikolai’s face grew grim. “Yes…your brother seems to have been using it as of late. Officers of the First Army have been sending in reports of—how should I put this—uh…how remains have been found.”

“God, I wish Mother hadn’t taught him how to do that,” you said, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Anyway, he was the one who taught me to use it. Mother figured it was better I didn’t know how to.”

“And let me guess. He thought otherwise?” Nikolai asked, making you nod. 

“He taught me in secret. I was always…I don’t know…afraid of it, I guess? And then Aleksander showed me that I controlled it, and that it didn’t control me. I control all of my powers, and I can use them at my own will. It’s my choice.” 

Nikolai squeezed your hand in his, running his thumb along the back of your palm. “I’ve never seen you use it. I’ve never seen you use your powers at all, actually.”

“I don’t use them unless I have to,” you replied, watching his fingers that were still intertwined with yours. “The last time I did was in the Fold, against the Volcra. Against him.”

Nikolai nodded, giving you a look of sympathy. “Did you use the Cut?”

You nodded silently, flinching at the memory. It had been weeks now, but it still felt fresh. Raw. You took another grounding breath, letting it out slowly.

“Yes. You didn’t meet them, but there was another group there from Ketterdam. Zoya may have mentioned them. Aleksander had cornered them in the back of the skiff while he stayed up front with Alina. He tried to take out the sharpshooter—I think his name was Jesper—and I stopped it. I aimed right for my brother just as he raised his hands. He barely missed Jesper, but thankfully he did. He had to step out of the way to avoid the Cut, and it threw off his aim I guess. Saints, you should have seen his face. It was like he’d never seen such betrayal. He didn’t think I was capable of doing that to him.”

“Tell me about the dream,” he coaxed gently, trying to get you not to dwell on that memory. “What is it that has you so scared?”

“Like I said, he taught me to use the Cut. The dream always starts out with the first time I did it right. I chopped down an apple tree that was growing in a nearby field. We took the apples home and Mother made some sort of hot cider with cinnamon.”

Nikolai smiled gently, his grip on your hand never wavering. “That sounds lovely.”

“It was,” you murmured, smiling sadly. “But that part of the dream is gone nearly as soon as it begins. Then it suddenly cuts to the first time I saw Aleksander use it on a man. A Fjerdan…Drüskelle. We had joined other Grisha by then, and we were attacked. And just as quickly as he kills that man, he turns to me. And it’s like I’m floating above my body. I can hear myself, and I know I’m screaming myself hoarse. Pleading with him to stand down, begging him to let me go. I’m his sister, he has to let me go. And—despite how hard I try—it always ends the same. There’s nothing I can ever do to change it…it feels so real every time. Every night.”

“What happens? Does he kill you?” Nikolai asked softly.

You could feel your vision clouding. You blinked rapidly, forcing yourself to calm down. You wouldn’t cry over your brother, not again. He had already inspired enough of your tears. 

“No,” you finally replied. “No, he doesn’t.”

Nikolai gave you a look of confusion. “What happens then?”

“I kill him. Shadows bleed out of me, and wrap around him tightly. He turns red in the face, struggling against them. He pleads for me to stop, and every time I tell him the same thing. That I’m not doing it, that I don’t know what’s happening. And he tries to get me to control myself, and tells me how strong I am—”

Your voice began to waver, and you choked back a sob. Nikolai waited patiently for you to continue, remaining silent. 

“No matter what I do, it ends the same. The shadows hold him tight, and I watch myself raise my hands. I can hear myself crying, but it happens anyway. He’s crying too…and then he’s cut into pieces.”

Nikolai is quiet for a long moment before he comes up with something to say. “Saints, Y/N…I’m so sorry.”

You sniffed, quickly wiping under your eyes. “That’s where it ends. At least, I think that’s where it ends. I always either wake up on my own, or I hear a knock on my door from one of your guards. I have you to thank for that.”

Before you know what’s happening, he’s pulling you into a hug. Squeezing you tight, refusing to let go until you wrap your arms around him. You sit in silence together for a long while, nothing but each other’s shallow breaths reaching your ears. After one last squeeze, he pulls away. 

“You’ll come tell me the next time it happens, won’t you?”

You scoffed, shaking your head. “And wake you up? No, I wouldn’t dare. I’m fine, Nikolai—”

“That’s not fine, darling,” he affirmed, making you look at him. “Listen…I know what those dreams are like. I used to get them, too. And I know my nights would have been a hell of a lot better if I had someone there. Someone who understood.”

You gave him a nervous look. “Nikolai, I don’t think so—”

“I’m not asking you to have me at your beck and call,” he grinned, trying to lighten up the mood. “Just on the bad nights. The nights where you know they’d be better if you had someone to be with for a little while. Trust me, it’s no bother. I’m up half the night anyways, I’ve never been a good sleeper. If anything, you’d be saving me from boredom.”

You wanted to say no, but the look in his eye was telling you that he needed this too. Something was stopping him from admitting it—maybe his pride—but he needed someone just as much as you did. And for him, you could force yourself to every once in a while swallow your own pride and get up to knock on his door. 

“If you insist,” you finally relented, offering a small smile. “Who would I be to deny a Prince?”

From that night on, you followed his orders. It was embarrassing at first, finding yourself in front of his door, but he was more than welcoming. 

He was more often than not still awake at his desk, rummaging through maps and papers. He’d greet you with a smile, offering you a drink. On other nights, he’d have a tired look in his eye, but he’d never turn you away. You’d tell him that he could go back to sleep, but he’d insist on staying up. 

You’d find yourself on his couch, and he’d talk and talk and talk until he couldn’t keep his eyes open any longer. His head would roll, landing on your shoulder. You never had it in you to disturb him, and you’d stay on his couch the whole night, falling into a comfortable sleep yourself. And in the morning, he’d complain about a pinched nerve in his neck, telling you how you owed him a massage. You’d always laugh it off, telling him how he could always kick you out when he was tired. And every single time, he’d shake his head, telling you he’d suffer through a pinched nerve if it meant keeping you company.

Eventually, your couch sessions moved to his bed. It was a large bed after all, and incredibly comfortable. You tried to decline the first time, but he waved you off, telling you to get over yourself and be an adult about it. You had narrowed your eyes at him, but relented, finding yourself waking up the next morning still curled up in his sheets. 

It had been the best night’s sleep you had gotten in years.

You continued on like that for a while, skipping the couch entirely. You’d enter his room with a smile, immediately making yourself comfortable at the foot of his bed as you kicked off your shoes. 

He was right, of course, about being an adult about these sorts of things. There was never an uncomfortable moment, or a moment where either of you tried something that the other wouldn’t like. It was entirely innocent sleeping in his bed, and neither of you had even for a second considered going back to your old arrangements. 

You’d both been sleeping the best you’d ever slept, and you knew it was because you had each other there. 

His guards never again had to knock on your door. They stayed stationed outside of his, happy to have not been scared half to death by a rogue scream in the night.

You both eventually gave up on trying to sleep separately. Even when the nightmares would leave you be, Nikolai most certainly wouldn’t. He’d find himself growing restless without you, marching to your door and demanding you come and keep him company. You were more than happy to oblige him, knowing you slept infinitely better with him beside you. You reached a point where you stopped going to your room, instead getting yourself ready to settle in for the night, only to head straight for his door. 

You reached a point where you stopped trying to refrain from touching each other, too. 

When your nightmares would return, Nikolai was there. Easing you awake, staying up until you weren’t scared anymore. On the rare occasion when his would plague him, you were there for him too. It didn’t take much to calm each other. An arm thrown over a waist here, an ankle hooked around a leg there. You’d often find yourselves wrapped up in each other in the mornings, having to untangle yourselves when one of you needed to get up. On nights where you were both exhausted from a long day, it was easier just to flop into bed and curl up next to each other. 

It was simple. Innocent. Pure. 

A light feathery touch had no underlying meaning. You didn’t have to use your words, you could let your actions speak for you. It meant nothing more than wanting comfort, and you both were happy enough to give it to each other. 

Any feelings attached came naturally, and neither of you had it in yourselves to turn them away. The alternative—keeping them close, and your hearts open—was infinitely easier.

And that’s what you did.

—

I'm still a believer but I don't know why

I've never been a natural

All I do is try, try, try

Can you see right through me?

They see right through

They see right through me

I see right through me

And when I break it's in a million pieces

When you found out what Aleksander did to Genya, you had never felt more guilty in your life. 

You knew he had saved her the day he returned to the Little Palace, but you had yet to find her, and it was too late to when you fled. You kept her off your mind, filling your thoughts with nothing but the goal of finding Alina. And when you found her, your thoughts became preoccupied with a certain Prince. As the weeks passed, you were happier with him than you’d ever been in your entire life by your brother’s side. 

You had almost forgotten the battle you were in the midst of until he came to remind you. 

He attacked the palace, destroying half the grounds with a band of amplified Grisha. He brought his nichevo’ya, hurting and killing whoever he pleased to get what he wanted. Vasily, Nikolai’s brother and the Crown Prince of Ravka, was among those killed.

You had no plan or course or action, and you didn’t know how to react when once again confronted by your brother face to face. All you knew was that you had to get Alina and Nikolai to safety, and you’d do whatever was necessary in order to make that happen.

And yet again, you watched your brother fall. 

Alina brought the foundations crumbling down, and he was trapped under the rubble. And what was even worse was…you helped her do it. Trapping him in darkness until the walls caved in. You knew better than to think he was dead, and it was only a matter of time before he showed back up to guilt you for not defending him. There was no time to think of that as you helped Alina and Tamar to safety.

After you escaped into the tunnels, you were trapped. There was no way out. 

Not that you’d want to get out anyway.

You were trapped, that much was true, but being trapped meant being safe—relatively, at least. Aleksander couldn’t get to you, and he would have begun regrouping by now. There were wounded to tend to on both sides, and his attention would be devoted to them. That gave your side enough time to tend to the wounded and come up with a plan.

You found Nikolai pulling a sheet over a dead man in a very long line of dead men, grimacing when you lost count of just how many there were. You pushed the image of them to the back of your mind, rushing over to him. 

“Nikolai,” you sighed in relief, offering him your hands. 

He immediately turned at the sound of your voice, practically melting at the sight of you unscathed. He grabbed your hands, letting you pull him to his feet. The second he steadied himself, you found yourself wrapped up tightly in his arms. You were pretty sure your feet were no longer on the floor, but you ignored the feeling, wrapping your arms around his neck. You remained quiet, giving him a moment to breathe.

“I lost you in the chaos,” he finally murmured into your shoulder. “I thought he got you.”

You shook your head. “I’m alright, I had Alina and Tamar. Aleksander is down, for now at least. Adrik was hurt, but Nadia is with him and they’re both going to be fine. What about you, love? Are you alright?”

His shoulders fell as he looked around, glancing over to see his Mother, distraught and in tears still surrounded by her guards. First and Second Army soldiers alike were frantically running around, tending to people and arming themselves. Alina was with Adrik and Nadia, asking anyone who passed by if they had seen Mal. Nikolai turned back to you, his own eyes clouding with tears. He took a shuddering breath, his shoulders beginning to shake. 

“Vasily.”

You frowned, taking his hands again in yours. “I’m so sorry, sladkiy mal'chik. I should have tried harder to stop him.”

Sweet boy. 

“I just—” He wavered, gripping your hands tight. 

You shook your head, pulling him to a corner away from prying eyes. “Hey, it’s alright, it’s alright. Breathe…take a minute, I’ll be right here. I’m right here, whatever you need. Saints know how many times you’ve been there for me…let me be there for you.”

Nikolai nodded, taking a breath. He eventually crouched down, sitting on the floor, and you immediately followed him down. You sat across from him on the ground, letting your joined hands rest in his lap as he eased his breathing. It was quiet for another moment as he gathered himself, before he opened his mouth to speak. 

“I just—I can’t breathe, I don’t know—I just…he’s my brother. I wasn’t that close to him, and I know he wasn’t a good person—he almost got us all killed just for the sake of his pride, I know that—but…he was my brother. He wasn’t always like this, you know, he didn’t deserve this….he was the first person who tried to teach me to sail when my Father wouldn’t. Father said I was too young, but Vasily showed me anyway. And now, just like my Father, he’s dead. They’re both gone, and I don’t know what to do. My Mother…she’s all alone now.”

You felt the pit in your stomach grow, your heart clenching as you watched him break. He was right. They were both dead. 

And it was all because of your brother. 

You frowned harder, squeezing his hands tight. “You don’t have to explain yourself, darling. You loved them both, and that’s okay. I hate my brother. I hate what he is, I hate that he’s done this, and I hate that—of all the people in the world—he’s hurt you…but I also can’t help but love him, too. I don’t know why, that’s just how it is. I understand, believe me. You can’t help who you love. And I am so sorry about the King and your brother. I'd give anything to change it and bring them back. I’m so sorry, Nikolai.”

You couldn’t help but choke back your own tears now, the pit in your stomach only growing when you felt his hands leave yours and come up to wipe the tears away when they inevitably fell. Your heart clenched in your chest as you looked up at him through wet lashes, seeing the concern and compassion on his face. 

He was so sweet. He was so unbelievably good. And he was in pain.

But here he was, on one of the worst days of his life, trying to make you feel better. Unable to stop himself from trying to help you, because he didn’t have it in him to watch you suffer. He didn’t want to watch anyone suffer. He had empathy and love pouring out of him, radiating through you, and it was enough to take your breath away.

“I’m so sorry—” You whispered again, only to be cut off by his palms cradling your face.

“Stop apologizing,” he said firmly, pausing as he let you reach up and wipe his own tears away. “Stop saying you’re sorry, Y/N. It isn’t your fault. There was nothing you could do. We did our best.”

You nodded, trying to let his words sink in. You reached up and pulled his hands away from your face, intertwining your fingers with his. He swiped his thumbs across the back of your palms, his breathing mirroring yours.

“What do you need me to do?” You finally said, clearing your throat. “You look overwhelmed, and I hate it. I'd prefer you sit down, but I know you, and I know you won’t do that, so…how can I help?”

He offered you a small smile, squeezing your hand. “I’m fine over here, milaya. Ask Alina, and don’t let her take no for an answer.”

Sweet girl.

You smiled back, nodding. You reluctantly let go of his hands, heading off to find Alina. Nikolai was right, she did argue and try and put you somewhere else. But a warm hand on her shoulder and a comforting smile was enough to put a crack in her resolve, and she finally shook her head and accepted your help with all the tasks she had apparently single-handedly taken on. 

It felt like days before everything seemed to settle and everyone could take a breath. And of course once things did settle, chaos erupted around you yet again. 

You had no idea how anyone managed to find you.

But you knew they did when the ceiling above you started rumbling, clouds of dirt breaking off and raining down on you. The rumble could be felt all throughout the cave floor, and it was enough to send Nikolai running back to yours and Alina’s side, Tamar hot on his trail. You watched in shock as you heard your Mother’s voice, scolding Genya for working too slow. 

They appeared out of the darkness together, and you nearly fell to your knees as your Mother came into view. 

“Baghra?” Alina asked once they rounded the corner, led by Tamar who had helped them down.

“Not the Grand Palace, but it’ll have to do,” Baghra said, her eyes scanning the room before they fell on you. “Y/N…you’re here. Finally left Aleksander, then?”

Nikolai stood closer by your side as you sputtered and wavered, unable to form a coherent response. You were saved from further embarrassment by Genya, who had slowly rounded the corner just as you mustered up the courage to say something. 

Your eyes widened in shock when you took in her face, scarred and marked in the same way your brother’s had been. 

You stumbled back, tears once again clouding your vision, the sound of static between your ears. You could hear the muffled conversation happening between Genya, Alina, and Nikolai, but you couldn’t bring yourself to listen. You were too busy scanning all the jagged edges of her scars, something deep in you telling you that there was nothing in the world that could have made these marks other than your brother himself, and his shadow monsters. 

“The Grisha who poisoned the King?” Nikolai asserted, pulling you from your thoughts as you heard what he said sharply.

Talks of treason and trials made their way into the conversation, along with the notion that, although Nikolai was now considered King, it was only because of Genya’s role in the first King’s death. Everyone continued to argue amongst themselves, Genya practically shaking where she stood as she let Alina defend her. You couldn’t bear to see her like this, forcing your feet to move as you slowly approached her. 

“You can’t blame her, Nikolai,” you murmured, gently cupping Genya’s cheeks as you locked eyes with her. “You can’t blame her anymore than you would blame me. I know Genya, and I know she would never do anything to hurt anyone unless her life and the lives of those she loves depended on it. If you’re looking for someone to blame, blame anyone else but her. Me, the King, my brother, it doesn’t matter. But know this…we failed her, Nikolai. My brother used her for his own selfish ambition…and she endured your Father’s abuse and your Mother’s wrath every single day with a strength I don’t think anyone in this room could ever have possibly hoped of possessing. She is the best of us. My closest friend, and you cannot punish her for this. Please.”

Genya’s hands grappled for yours, and you pulled her into your arms as you spoke. Nikolai’s eyes softened on you as you held her close, and you silently pleaded with him as you ran your hands up and down her arms, her own secured around your middle.

“Did he force you?” Nikolai managed to spit out, preparing himself for the blow the truth would surely deliver. 

“I,” Genya started, taking a deep breath as she continued. “I never sought his attention.”

You kept her close, nodding in confirmation when Nikolai’s gaze turned to you. “I am sorry that you’ve lost your Father, but his death was kinder than he ever was. Look at her face, Nikolai. There was no one behind this but my brother, and this was his punishment for her crossing him. The King is no longer alive to pay for his crimes, and my brother will pay for his one day, so please…don’t make her pay for the part she had no choice in playing. What they’ve done to her is more punishment than she will ever deserve.”

You could tell Nikolai was internally battling with himself. But the longer he looked at Genya’s face, the more he knew that he couldn’t punish her. She had suffered enough, and he wouldn’t be the third Lantsov to add to her suffering. 

“You’re safe here, Genya,” he finally said, taking a gentle step closer to her. “I will not harm you, and when I am King, I will do all I can to try and make up for what has happened to you. I’m so sorry.”

Genya let out a breath of relief, and you had to hold her tighter to keep her steady. Alina came to her side, easing her from your arms and leading her away, Tamar following closely behind them. 

When they were out of earshot, you turned to Nikolai. He looked ready to keel over, and you felt your heart sink as his shoulders fell, the weight of his position pressing him down with a pressure he couldn’t bear. 

“I didn’t know,” he whispered, his hands beginning to shake. “I knew my Father was capable of some awful things, but…I didn’t know.”

You quickly shushed him, wrapping your arms around his waist. His arms came up to wrap around your shoulders, and you could feel his cheek resting on the top of your head. He was clinging to you tightly, his breathing unsteady. You pressed your cheek into his chest, gently swaying you both back and forth. 

“You know….I’ve always had this sort of false hope that Aleksander would change one day. That he would see all the horrible things he’s done, and choose to change. After all these years, I still find myself desperately looking for something good in him. But I know now that I’m not going to find it. And yet, I disappoint myself every time looking for it. I want to believe in him, but I think it’s time I start believing in someone else. Someone worth it.”

“Like who?” He murmured, his cheek still pressed into your hair. “Yourself? Alina? You’re right darling, those are definitely better choices than your brother—

“You,” you interrupted, feeling him go rigid in your arms.

He pulled away, holding you at arms length. “What?”

“You,” you said again, giving him a small but warm smile. “I know you’re not King yet, but you just showed me how prepared you are for becoming one. What you did for Genya was kind, and gentle. I saw the look in her eye when she realized that you would be different from the Kings before you. You’re so good, Nikolai. And Ravka needs someone good. Someone like you. I’m sorry about the circumstances that led to you becoming King, it’s not fair, but you deserve it more than the rest of your family ever could.”

He shook his head as he listened to you speak, standing up straight. “No, I don’t. Look at this place, Y/N. Your Mother was right. I’ve been away too long, things have changed—”

“You can change things, Nikolai,” you said firmly, taking his hands. “You’ll have the power to, and I trust you to do it. I believe in you.”

He took a shaky breath, looking down at you solemnly. “You shouldn’t.”

You shook your head, squeezing his hands tight. You ran your thumb along the skin on the back of his palm, silently comforting him and hoping that he could feel and know just how much you cared for him and believed in him.

“You’re not going to convince me you aren’t worth following. You thinking I shouldn’t is exactly why I should. You don’t ask for blind faith, and you understand that you have to earn loyalty. You don’t force it, like my brother or the King did. Instead, you show people why you’re worth believing in. There’s no one I’d rather follow, Nikolai. No one.”

Nikolai took a deep breath, looking away from you and towards the ground. He couldn’t handle the way you were looking at him. 

Like he was the sun. 

He tugged you closer, once again hiding his face in your hair. He couldn’t come up with the right words to say, only holding you tight. His heart was pounding and he knew his palms were sweaty, but you were holding them anyway, smiling against his chest. You stood like that a moment longer, before you both got back to work. 

—

'Cause all of my enemies started out friends

Help me hold onto you

The day your brother died, you knew you were completely and utterly alone. 

A few days prior, news of your Mother’s death reached you. She died holding Aleksander back, and it saved Alina and Mal. When you found out, Nikolai had to spend the night awake with you, holding you close in silence while you clung to him.

You weren’t with Aleksander when he died. You couldn’t bring yourself to watch him fall again.

You knew Alina would be safe with Mal and Zoya, who had brought back the Crows with her. With Nina and Inej as additional help, Alina would be fine without you. She didn’t need you hesitating when the time to kill Aleksander finally came. So, you went with the rest of the Crows, Nikolai, and his crew, choosing to help them when everyone had to split up. You had mere seconds to decide, but you followed Nikolai into the ruins, leaving you brother behind forever. 

Everyone fought with everything they had.

Nikolai almost died, pinned up against a pillar with the claw of one of Aleksander’s nichevo’ya imbedded in his shoulder. You tried to pull it back, but even your powers couldn’t stop it. You had almost lost all hope when it suddenly dissipated, sending Nikolai crashing to the floor. 

Tamar rushed to his side, pulling him up. “Kirigan must be dead!”

It was like the wind was knocked out of you, but you forced yourself to keep it together, hooking an arm under Nikolai’s and helping him stand. 

“Y/N—” He said sympathetically, but you shook your head, keeping your grip tight. 

“Don’t,” you breathed, trying to keep him steady against you. “Just keep going.”

Everyone filed out of the building, the bright sun blinding you all. The Fold was gone, once and for all. It was eerie, seeing the flat open land without the stain of merzost. 

You looked around for the rest of your friends. Alina was nowhere to be found, and you assumed she had stayed with Mal—wherever that was. 

Inej suddenly came over the hill to reunite with her friends. She was carrying something by her side. You looked down to see that it was the Neshyener sword…and it was coated in black blood. You held your breath, your eyes meeting hers. When her face fell, and she gave you a solemn look of sympathy, you knew whose blood it was.

You knew your brother was dead. 

You let out a sob, bringing your hand up to cover your mouth. Your knees slammed into the ground, crunching down against the gravel. You could feel the jagged edges digging into your skin, but it was nothing compared to the ache in your chest that was threatening to rip you apart. You dug your hands into the sand, desperately trying to ground yourself and stop crying over a man not worth your tears while everyone stared at you, having no idea what to say or do to comfort the girl who had lost her Mother and brother all in the same week. As you heaved another sob, you felt two hands on your shoulders. You looked up to see Alina.

She knelt down next to you, pulling you into a hug. “Do you want to see him? I can take you to him, Zoya is keeping watch.”

The thought of your brother’s dead body made you want to vomit, and you shook your head, tears still rolling down your face.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

“He’s gone,” you cried, clinging to the back of her jacket. “He’s really gone.”

“But you’re not. You’re alive, Y/N. We’re all alive and here because you had the courage to leave his side. Ravka is safe from him now. Our future King is safe. We couldn’t have done this without your help. Thank you for helping us.”

You wiped your tears, nodding. “I know it’s for the better. I know he deserved it. It just…it still hurts. It hurts so bad. He wasn’t always like this.”

“I know,” Alina murmured, squeezing you one more time before letting you go. “It’s alright to mourn him. In some ways, I’ll mourn him too. But you’ll be alright. I promise. We’re all here.”

You felt another hand on your shoulder, and looked up to see Nikolai. He had been patched up a little bit, no doubt the work of Genya’s powers. He still had blood caked in his hair, and a tourniquet tied around his leg. The sight of him injured lessened the ache in your chest for Aleksander, and you took a breath, drying your tears. 

He offered you a hand, pulling you up when you took it. “Come with me.”

You gave Alina a grateful nod, before turning and following Nikolai. He led you by the hand all the way to his skiff, which was empty. Everyone was still either guarding Alexander, treating the wounded, or regrouping down by the ruins. You let him lead you on board, sitting next to him on a crate on the deck when he patted the spot beside him.

You reached up, wiping away some of the stray blood on his temple with your thumb. “Are you alright?”

“Genya patched me up,” he said softly, letting you momentarily deflect from what was really on your mind. “I’m fine, I promise. Everyone else is too. I expect they’ll be going their own ways soon enough. We have a country to rebuild.”

He slipped his hand into yours, intertwining your fingers. You leaned into his side, your gaze set in your lap.

“And where will you go?” You asked, sparing a glance at him. “Back to the palace, I expect?”

He nodded. “It’s my duty to my country. Like I promised Genya…we have to do better. Things have to change for Ravka. And I need to be the one to do it.”

You nodded, looking back towards your lap. Nikolai frowned, brushing his shoulder with yours as he tightened his grip on your hand. 

“What about you? Where will you go?”

His question made you spiral. You shook your head frantically, hopping down from the crate. You paced back and forth in front of him, eyes once again welling with tears.

“Saints, I am so sick of crying,” you muttered under your breath, wiping away the fallen tears.

Nikolai quickly stood, trying to calm you down. He eventually grabbed you by your shoulders, holding you still. He shushed you, trying to get you to look at him. 

“Look at me,” he murmured, speaking firmly when you tried to pull away. “Y/N…look at me. What is it? What can I do? Talk to me.”

You finally met his eyes, standing still. “I don’t know what to do, Nikolai. I don’t know where to go. Everyone has someone to go home to, but I don’t know what that even is for me anymore. My family is gone, and half the Little Palace hates me. Where do I go? Who do I have?”

You continued to spiral, Nikolai’s eyes widening in shock as he listened to you speak. You continued, your hands gripping his sleeves as you clung to him.

“I don’t know what we are, Nikolai,” you choked out, embarrassed to even say it. “But…I don't think I can bear not having you in my life. As pathetic as that is, I don’t think I can do it. You’re just about the only good thing I have left, and I don’t want to lose you.”

You continued to ramble, sending an ache rattling through Nikolai’s chest. He could feel his heart breaking at your words, and he finally stopped you, cupping your face in his palms. He held you gently, like you would break into a million pieces if he applied enough pressure. It made him want to burst into tears. He shushed you again gently, his thumbs resting against your jaw. 

He had effectively silenced you, and you waited in nervous anticipation for him to speak. His eyes met yours, and he leaned in, resting his forehead against yours as he breathed you in. 

“You think you can’t come with me?” He finally asked, his face falling when he realized you hadn’t even considered the possibility of him wanting you to stay. “Of course I want you to come with me. I want you by my side. Yes, everyone else might have someone to return to and a home waiting for them. But you have me, Y/N. You have a home with me. And I want you to stay. It’s you and me.”

You couldn’t wrap your head around his words, absentmindedly leaning into his touch. “Really? You’re serious?”

“I’ve never been more serious about anything in my entire life. You were there for me when I needed you most, and now I’m going to be there for you. I’ll always be there for you. I won't let you let me go. You’re stuck with me. As your King, I’m commanding it.”

You stifled a laugh, breathing him in. “You’re commanding it? I guess I can’t say no, then, can I?”

“It wouldn’t be wise,” he grinned, pulling you closer. “I’m very powerful, you know. Lots of friends in high places.”

You nodded, letting your hands wander up to cup his cheeks. He smiled wide, letting his hands settle around your waist. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of your head, gazing down at you lovingly. 

“You’re going to be alright, Y/N,” he murmured, running his fingers along the base of your spine. “I’ll make sure of it.” 

You were never going to get over his positivity and resilience, two qualities on the list of his neverending endearing qualities. You couldn’t help but smile up at him, his hopefulness rubbing off on you. You believed him. It was going to get better, and you would be alright. You could feel it.

“And you’re going to be a good leader,” you mirrored, giving him a grateful smile. “We can make sure of that together.”

—

A/N - Hi! Nikolai, my favorite mirrorball, I hope I did him justice with this. It’s SO long omg I’m sorry, but hopefully that makes up for the ridiculous amount of time it took me to write this. It honestly feels a little like I rambled the whole way through this fic and I kinda hate it but I also really like some parts, and I spent too long writing it, so I gotta put it out. Anyway, I hope you liked it! Let me know what you think :)

[jahayla-parker]

I have a request for Nikolai

Basically, every summer since the prince and the princess were little their families would visit each other and stay until summer was over, each summer the twos hatred grew. When they are older and more beautiful the parents agree to a arranged marriage, Nikolai realised he’s falling in love with her when he first watched her dance ballet. After watching her secretly for weeks he finally joins in the dance and at the end they kiss

Mwhahaha really hope u can do this as ur my favourite writer <3

Announcement!!! Nikolai Series info!

Update: find series here

Im turning this into a mini series! I’ve got a lot of it done so far, but will post the schedule once I’ve finished it & am onto the editing stage.

There will be a few things changed / added from the request, but it shows the general theme and prompt of enemies to lovers trope and ballet / royalty aesthetics!

Until then, please lmk if you want to be on this mini series Taglist 👑

[downbadf0rficppl]

in the morning

Nikolai Lantsov x F!Reader

Summary: a morning after scene from still be here in the morning?

Word Count: 407

Warnings: SMUTTY SMUT, LOTS OF SMUT, lots of teasing, a lil bit of angst, and some fluff. Also, the reader's nickname is Mouse - but it's not a size thing, it's an occupation thing *thumbs up emoji*

The sound of seagulls woke you up. It was the first night in a while that you had slept so peacefully. You stirred, only to find yourself trapped under something heavy. An arm. Nikolai's arm. You smiled. He was still here in the morning.

You wiggled your way out of his arms, and threw on your clothes - you had to maintain some semblance of professionality. You placed a light kiss on his hairline and whispered your goodbyes before slipping out of his room.

You thought you'd got away but an arm slung over your shoulder told you otherwise. Tolya.

"Not a word. I don't want to hear it."

"I mean, I was going to say, 'good for you', but if you don't want to hear it, I won't say it." Tolya said, a grin plastered on his face. You nudged him in the ribs, before disappearing onto the deck. He muttered a curse word in Shu, before following you onto the deck.

Just when you thought you'd escaped the teasing, you bumped into someone else. They whistled. You groaned. Tamar. It was like you could never get away from the twins.

"Good for you, Mouse! You finally broke the Captain out of his celibacy streak!" Tamar laughed. At this rate, everyone and their ancestors would know you guys had slept together.

"How does it feel to be the first person he broke his rule for?"

"What rule?"

"The 'I don't sleep with crewmates' rule." You didn't even know that was a rule.

"I just have one question." Tolya perched himself against the railing of the stairs as you climbed up them to the wheel.

"I'm not telling you what he's like in bed."

"I just want to know who 'Nikolai is'." Your heart stopped.

"What did you say?"

"Who's Nikolai?" Tamar asked, joining in on the fun, "I mean, I hope the Captain was drunk enough that you didn't hurt his ego." Your face flushed red.

"He's no one. Nikolai's no one. Someone from back home." You were secretly glad that no one had caught on.

"Well, don't let the Captain hear you say that," Tamar stage whispered, pulling you into her side. You smiled at your secret. You heard boots behind you and whirled around - you hadn't heard Nikolai walk out on deck.

"Okay, Sailors. Everyone ready to move on?" Nikolai barked, his tone harsher than normal. Everyone looked at him confused. He looked fucking pissed.

fin.

buy me a coffee