#nikolai antonov

[mist-the-wannabe-linguist]

Normal events aboard the Vulture

[a-model-of-propriety]

(steps onto a soap box)

More Nikolai & Rune moments, please

If you have the time & energy of course :D👍

finally got around to answering this! :D

–

“Rune!” Nikolai called out as they dashed across the ship to catch up with her. “You’re not on duty right now, are you?”

Rune shook their head. “Not for another couple hours,” he signed.

“Perfect,” Nik said, grinning from ear to ear as he dragged Rune along behind him, “because there is something belowdeck you have to see.”

Luckily for Nik, Rune followed without a single protestation. The pair of them descended belowdeck and wove through the small bunches of people until they reached Nik’s destination: Lynx.

Was the ship’s chief mouser doing anything out of the ordinary? Certainly not. Nik at least had seen her making biscuits in this very spot dozens of times before. But that was irrelevant, and Rune clearly agreed. In unison, Nik and Rune sat down next to Lynx to silently (or not so silently, in Nik’s case) watch her. When Lynx was finished with her extremely important task of making biscuits, she yawned widely and shifted into a more comfortable napping position, and Nik had to physically restrain himself from disturbing her with any unwanted petting.

“Antonov, Hermansen!” Andrey called from down the hall. “Are you two all right? You’ve barely moved in the past hour.”

Nik immediately shushed him, pointing to the still very sleepy Lynx.

“Ah,” he said. “I should have guessed, seeing how focused you were.”  Andrey crouched down between Nik and Rune. “Did you know I used to have a cat?” he asked.

“You did?” Nik asked, to which Andrey nodded in reply. Immediately, both Nik and Rune launched into a barrage of questions about this mysterious cat’s appearance, name, age, personality, and anything else under the sun. But chatter and sign as they might, neither could get another word out of Andrey about his cat. Unfortunately, that information would have to come another day.

[anotherscrappile]

hmmm, i wonder how Pierre and Nikolai would get along?

your Pierre i mean skdndndnxnd

Apologies for the wait and here you go! I bet Nikolai would find Bellavoir to be an enigma. Half the time he’s compulsively cleaning things. Half the time he’s doing stuff like this.

Reblogs appreciated :)

[worker-and-soldier]

The Petrograd Military Revolutionary Committee. (1917)

[ellewritesalright]

Second Best - Part 4

Nikolai Lantsov x reader

Masterlist --- Part 3

A/N: Buckle up folks, things are about to get wild.

Synopsis: When you were a child, the Lantsov king and queen arranged for their second son to marry you, a rich Ravkan noble family's only daughter. After many years, after all the destruction of the war, and after Nikolai was crowned king, Nikolai breaks off the engagement. But the complications of your past and your strict parents make it a nightmare to find a new fiance, so Nikolai promises to help you, yet he slowly realizes the mistake he's made.

Warnings: Angst! (fluff too) Strict and low-key abusive parents, self-image issues because of said parents, arguing/angry shouting, mentions of illness and death, kinda confusing and purposefully ambiguous details that will be important later in the story (bear with me please [we have almost reached this part of the story]), pls lmk if I've missed anything else.

Word count: 4000

..........

"And this is the lower deck," Nikolai said, motioning around the wooden cabin of the Kingfisher. He was giving you a tour before he left for another trip across Ravka tomorrow.

You grazed your hand along one of the hammocks. "How does one sleep while airborne?"

"I'm not sure. I never sleep while we're flying." He stood beside you, patting the canvas fabric and making it sway. "These are more for the crew."

You nodded, looking around some more.

"There's not much else to the Kingfisher. It's mostly utility, since flights don't take much longer than a few hours usually."

"How does it fly in the rain?" You inquired, eyeing the grates overhead, the blue sky poking through the gaps.

He smiled. "Not perfectly, but we make do."

"Why does that sound like it's a more harrowing experience than you're letting on?"

"Oh, hush," he laughed, "it's perfectly safe."

You walked back up the steep steps to the upper deck.

"Thank you for the tour," you said as you stopped near the boarding ramp.

"Anytime." He leaned against the railing. "I'm just sorry I'll be missing your birthday soiree."

You rolled your eyes. "You mean the parade of unsuitable suitors?"

"That's the one," he smiled, giving your upper arm a short pat. "Cheer up. It's not every day a lady turns twenty-one."

You scratched at your collar for a moment, then clasped your hands together in front of you. "She's going to be insufferable."

He instantly knew you were talking about your mother. "No more than usual."

You gave him a look.

"I'm just saying… maybe she'll be distracted with the hosting."

"She can multitask my misery, don't you worry."

Nikolai sighed, eyes empathetic.

"You'll have to have a doubly good time in East Ravka, to make up for the suffering I'll be enduring," you told him. "I command it."

"You're commanding the king now?" He smirked.

You gave him another look, and he laughed, his hand touching your upper arm again.

"Yes, ma'am."

……….

The house hadn't been this packed since you were a small child. The last time you remembered the Antonovs hosting as extravagant an event as this, you were young enough to be sneaking peeks from the servants' halls. But now, you were in it. Men were twisting you about in the ballroom, eyeing you up from the great hall, whispering in your ear in the dining room.

The man on your arm at present was General Halinsky. He was leading you through a rather stiff waltz. You moved with him, his one hand tightly clasping yours, the other a strict presence on your back. You had to wonder if it was because of the last you'd spoken to him; calling him less accomplished and worse at his military job than King Nikolai. He stared at you without hunger or lust, which was more than you could say for some of the other men your mother invited. But there was a hardness and annoyance to his eyes whenever they narrowed on you. He probably thought you were merely a petulant girl.

When the waltz ended, Halinsky didn't let go of your hand.

"Another dance?" He asked, putting on a charming smile that did not match his viper eyes.

"I'm feeling a bit parched, I could use a drink first," you excused yourself, offering him a polite shake of your head.

"Let me fetch you something," he said, leading you over to a table. He had you sit, then he left.

You kept your back straight despite how you wished to collapse into this chair. Saints, you were exhausted. It seemed like every man was staring at you, all lured in by your mother and her promises of your intention to marry. They all stared, and you were fearful to meet any of their eyes, else they might take it as a sign and approach you. So you kept your eyes on your gloves. The elbow-length white satin covered your little scar. It was the only evidence of the life you used to have.

Your mind went to Nikolai, as it often did. You hoped he was having a pleasant enough trip to East Ravka. He'd flown there, which you still couldn't quite believe; watching him lift off with his crew and a few of his political advisors was a marvel that left you more than a little slack-jawed. You'd have to ask to study the blueprints of the ship once he got back.

He'd sent a letter yesterday, not a singular mention of potential suitors in his swooping cursive. It was more about his journey, another apology for missing your birthday, and a promise of a surprise when he returned.

You smiled to yourself as you pondered the surprise. Perhaps shells from the eastern shore, or a new tool set? You hadn't a clue, and that thrilled you.

A throat cleared in front of you, and you looked up, seeing your mother clutching the forearm of a too-eager middle aged man wearing too much cologne. She introduced him as some northern count, then forced you into a dance with him.

So then you were stifling down sneezes as he had his arm around your waist and his odor overwhelming you. After four excruciating minutes of this, the song ended and you excused yourself as quickly as you could. You noticed Lord Alexei near the left wall of the ballroom, and you started towards his friendly face. It would be nice to speak to someone normal.

But before you were even two paces away from the dance floor, General Halinsky was beside you, a glass of golden bubbly in each hand.

"There you are, my lady," he said, a hint of impatience under his words.

You offered him a smile as you took a glass. "Thank you."

He sipped his glass and looked across the ballroom. "All these people, all here for you."

"It's a good birthday," you said with a convincing chuckle. Your polka-dot scar itched beneath your glove.

"You've many friends, it seems."

"It certainly does seem like that," you nodded drolly.

"You don't think so?"

"I think my mother invited a great number of guests. I'll confess, I don't know everyone here."

He looked at you, studying your face. "Girls like you don't have to know."

You blinked at him. "What does that mean, General?"

He tilted his chin at you as he noticed the sharp undertone of your words. His snake-like stare made you look just as closely at him, studying his cold eyes.

"You're soft," he said, not in an accusatory or insulting tone, just as an observation.

"Excuse me?"

"Soft. Unprepared for life. Like a baby bird in a nest."

"I'm no child, General."

"It's not an insult that you're young and inexperienced. It just means you need someone to guide you in life."

"And you think you're that someone," you remarked, trying and failing to hide the bite in your voice.

"I think you've a large estate that could use assistance. Once your parents pass on, you'll need all the help you can get."

"Forgive me if I am wrong, but my parents are barely ten years your senior, General. I should rather think I need a husband with less years."

He sucked a breath of either annoyance or amusement through his teeth. "That's not what your mother and father think."

"They don't decide who I marry, General. You'd do well to remember that." You cast a glare at him, then you glanced across the room at Lord Alexei. "If you'll excuse me, I have other guests."

You walked away, abandoning Halinsky and your glass with him.

"I sure hope that scowl isn't for me," Alexei chuckled softly as you approached him.

You hadn't realized you were still frowning, but you wiped it away, making your face pleasant again.

"Sorry. I'm afraid I'm nearing that point of a birthday where things aren't fun anymore," you sighed. As if your birthday celebration was fun to begin with.

"Too much birthday, as we call it in my house," Alexei nodded. "My Ana has always been prone to crying on her birthdays or on holidays. She gets so excited and then when one thing does not match that excitement it comes crashing down on her."

You gave a sympathetic chuckle. "Poor girl."

"She is learning to better manage her expectations," he smiled softly. He looked at you for a moment, then said, "I hope you won't find it too forward… but I was wondering about you and my cousin, King Nikolai."

You blinked at him. "Whatever for?"

"Well, it seems to me that you two are quite close. And I plainly remember a time when you two were betrothed."

You managed a smile. "We are no longer betrothed. The king is just a good friend."

"I see," he nodded, but his eyes had something else to say.

"You don't believe me?" You tilted your chin up at him slightly.

He raised his hands. "I believe you. I simply wanted to know if I'd be wasting my time with you, considering how my cousin so clearly likes you."

You scoffed in amusement. "He is a friend of mine. Besides, he has been helping me find suitors."

"And how is his success rate?"

You pursed your lips.

"A-ha." Alexei smirked beneath his mustache. "He's a poor matchmaker."

"He's done his best."

"You'd be married by now if he was truly trying his best."

"Lord Alexei, I'm not sure I'm comfortable with this conversation," you said with a polite detachedness.

"Very well. I know when to quit." He glanced around the ballroom, at the swathes of men and their black suits. Then he murmured, "Too bad the rest of these men don't know they've been beaten."

With that, Lord Alexei bowed his head and moved on.

The evening remained a long and tiring event, but now as you faked smiles and acted charming, you also had to hide the hive of thoughts buzzing in your head. When the night finally ended and the last guests had been sent home, your mother made you speak to her.

"You were surprisingly well-behaved tonight," she remarked with a dry stare at you.

You nodded. "Thank you."

She wiped at your cheek, seeing some form of imperfection. "You look tired."

"I am tired."

"Then go to sleep," she said, leaning back in her chair.

"I wasn't aware I was allowed to," you said, standing up again.

"There's that tongue of yours," she rolled her eyes. She seemed too tipsy to be completely angry with you. She snapped her fingers at your father. "Darling, come see this one to bed."

"Sure, dear."

Lord Antonov sighed and offered you his arm. He walked out into the main hall, bringing you towards the staircase. "Where's your precious king tonight?"

You wanted to protest that he wasn't only your king, but you sighed and swallowed the remark.

"East Ravka. Novokribirsk, I believe."

Your father sighed again and patted your arm as you walked. "I recieved several offers for you tonight."

"Oh?" You said, your voice almost clipped.

"Lord Feng, that Kerch Banker Mr Van Sessen, General Halinsky, Viscount Ulrich…" Your father stopped outside your bedroom. "Which do you like best?"

"Most of those men haven't spoken more than a few words to me, how could I know?" You shrugged.

"Then who spoke the most?"

You stifled a groan. "Halinsky."

"General Halinsky," your father pursed his lips, appraising him. He patted your arm again. "Very well. Goodnight, daughter. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Goodnight," you nodded softly.

You watched him leave for a moment before you went inside your room. You shut the door and stripped off your long gloves, your big gown coming off too. Your heels ached nearly as badly as your head as Lord Alexei's words hummed like a swarm in your ears, the hive of questions, counterarguments, and wonderings still awake.

You collapsed in bed, trying to fall asleep, but you weren't immune to the revelation about Nikolai that Alexei made. You tossed and turned, every movement a question, an exasperated game of "he loves me, he loves me not." It was difficult to say if Nikolai had been giving his full efforts in seeking a match for you. But Alexei was certain in his words–Nikolai would have found you a husband by now if he wanted to--and you had no reason to doubt Alexei.

……….

A few days after your birthday, a letter arrived, addressed from Novokribirsk. Nikolai would be home Saturday afternoon, and he was hoping to come over for tea. You wrote back that he would be welcome, but that you expected to visit the Palace very soon and see his design plans of his flying ship.

You did not mention your anxiety after your birthday celebration, how his cousin had sent you into a tailspin of questions and high hopes. Nothing was worse than raised expectations, so you were trying to muscle them down and stop them before they destroyed your life and friendship completely.

Even so, Nikolai had a small bag with him when he arrived for tea on Saturday afternoon. He set the bag down beside the sofa as you brought him into the library. A belated birthday gift, you figured. He stood by the window for a moment as you walked across the room again. You felt bold enough to shut the door, leaving the two of you alone. You poured tea for Nikolai, preparing it with as much milk as could fit before overflowing.

You felt as if this was a moment you should remember. The blue rim of the teacups, the way he stood with his back to you as he looked out at the gardens, the near-shake of your hands, the glint in Nikolai's eyes as he slowly turned and approached the seating area. Then again, you tried not to build up this moment in your mind; Nikolai was your friend, and he would go on as your friend. That was all.

"I'm terribly sorry to have missed your birthday. I heard it was quite the event," Nikolai said as he sat a respectable distance beside you on the sofa.

"Yes. There were more bachelors and bubbly than anyone could have stomached. My mother went all out."

He raised a brow as he raised his teacup. "And I presume you danced with every last one of them."

"Just about." You rolled your eyes a bit. "One of the bachelors was the ancient Duke Shapovalov."

"The Duke Shapovalov who's wheeled around by nurses?"

"The very same."

"Saints, your mother is creative. He's got to be as old as Ravka."

You chuckled, and Nikolai seemed to lean closer to you.

"I'm sorry you were left to fend for yourself," he said softly.

"It's alright, I'm used to it."

"All the same, I have a surprise that might make up for my absence." He grinned at you, a sly glint in his hazel irises. “Close your eyes.”

You were wary, but you did as he said. The loss of your sight drew your attention to the fact that you could feel your heartbeat in your throat. What was he going to do? You heard him move, and there was a quick rustle of his bag, then he moved again. You could hear him take a breath.

"Hold out your hands"

Again, you followed his instructions, extending your hands. Something soft was set in your palms, balancing a little lopsidedly.

"You can open your eyes now," Nikolai said after a beat.

As soon as you did you felt your heart leap out of your chest. A grey stuffed bear sat in your hands, its nose round and eyes gentle. It was Viktor, your old friend and most trusted bear. This Viktor’s limbs weren’t worn like your old Viktor’s were from trailing the halls after you, but his arms and legs were just the lengths you remembered. And his fur was slightly darker than the original’s, yet it was just as soft and warm. While he wasn’t an exact copy of your childhood bear, he was damn close, and your eyes pricked with tears as you brought your new Viktor to your chest.

“Do you like him?” Nikolai asked.

You beamed, “He's the best gift I’ve ever received. How did you manage this?”

"Well, I used the drawing you sent me, then I asked the staff at the Antonov estate house about a stuffed bear that you used to carry around. It was difficult to track down anyone who knew of Viktor, but finally one of the cooks remembered."

This difficulty made sense to you, seeing as the Antonovs had gradually replaced most of the staff after the firepox outbreak.

Nikolai chuckled as he continued, “I may or may not have passed along your sketch and his description and to a fabrikator.”

"I don't know what to say, Nikolai, I…" You heaved forward on the sofa and draped your arms around his shoulders, doing the improper thing as you hugged him. If your mother caught you she would scream like she was being murdered but you couldn't be bothered. This was the kindest, most considerate thing anyone had ever done for you. Nikolai wrapped himself around you, squeezing you gently. It was difficult to pull yourself away from him. But when you finally let him go, there were tears in your eyes.

"Are you alright?" He asked, hands bracing your arms as he looked at you in concern.

"I'm excellent," you sputtered. "Better than alright. I just…" A grin spread along your lips and you quickly hugged him again. "Thank you."

"I take it I'm forgiven for missing your birthday?" You felt his question burble in his chest as you pressed to it. You sat away from him again.

"You are more than forgiven, Nikolai Lantsov. If we had the power, Viktor and I would declare sainthood for you."

He laughed. "I can see it now: Sankt Nikolai the Dashing and Bold."

"Not quite. I'd name you Sankt Nikolai the Kindhearted."

He smiled softly at you. "I can live with that."

The library door opened and you flitted away from him with dizzying speed. He raised a brow as you sat on an armchair a full coffee table away from him, but you ignored his silent probe, toying with Viktor's ears.

"Your majesty," Lord Antonov greeted with a sigh, balancing a stack of papers under his arm. "How long have you been here?"

"Not long, Lord Antonov. Your daughter and I were just having tea and then I gave her a birthday gift. Perhaps you'd like to see it."

You proudly held up Viktor, matching Nikolai's grin as you peered at the bear.

"You got her a stuffed animal?" Your father peered down his nose at Viktor. He grumbled, "It's a rather peculiar gift for someone her age."

"The bear is a replica of a toy she used to have when she was young, but if you don't remember him, perhaps I haven't done a very good job."

You wanted to say he'd done well, that it was the best gift you'd ever received and you were grateful even if the resemblance wasn't exact, but you were quickly over spoken.

"I remember a scraggly bunch of stitches she used to drag behind her, but we got rid of it and the countless diseases it undoubtedly carried after she recovered from a terrible, terrible illness. The memory is an unpleasant one, your highness, and I am appalled that you would dredge up such a horrid moment in our family's past."

Your stomach turned to lead.

"Father--"

"Quite frankly, I don't see why you've given my daughter a gift at all," he said coldly, eyes lethal as he looked at Nikolai. "She is not your fiance. You two are no longer engaged because you broke the tie between our families. You decided we weren't suitable to marry into your royal line. And despite how incredibly irresponsible your actions were, I forgave them. But I will not tolerate your blithe flirtations with my daughter when you have no intention of marrying her!"

Nikolai stood firm, his mouth pressed in a calm line though you were sure your father's lashing must sting. It was difficult to accept the fact that your father was right, but he had compounded a fear of yours. Knowingly or unknowingly, Nikolai led you on.

"Lord Antonov," began Nikolai. He rubbed at his chest, just over his heart, and for a moment it seemed he didn't know what to say, but he soon composed an apology. "I am truly sorry. I meant no offense--"

"I know what you meant, sending my daughter letters and giving her gifts and false hope. I'm tired of your meddling, boy."

Nikolai's lip twitched and his arms dropped to his sides. "Boy? I am your king, Lord Antonov. Regardless of what you think of me, you will uphold that respect."

"I couldn't respect you if I tried," your father spat. "Now, you'd better leave my house willingly before I have someone escort you out."

Nikolai glanced at you, perhaps wishing you would speak up for him as you had before. But when you folded your arms and looked away he got the message. You were done fighting for him.

He scoffed and shook his head at you, then he stormed from the room. His footsteps could be heard in the main hall, halting for a second to gather his coat, then continuing through the front door. It slammed behind him, the noise bouncing into the library.

You had little time to process the rather one-sided conversation that just played out before you. The realization that you were no better than a fish dragged along on a hook but never reeled in was the only thing you seemed to register. It made you a bit ill to ponder, but you were grateful to your father for pulling back the curtain and confirming your situation with Nikolai. After all, Nikolai had no defenses against it, nothing to say the contrary.

Your father walked to the library door and let it click shut before he whirled around on you.

"You stupid girl!" He hissed. "How blind could you be? Your mother and I share some of the blame for letting this drag out like it did, but honestly, how foolish are you?"

"I'm sorry." You absentmindedly tugged along Viktor's ear. You had clutched him tight the entire time your father aired his grievance with the king. "I was stupid."

"Not as stupid as telling him about this blasted bear! What else did you tell him, girl? Does he know the truth about my real daughter?"

"No, he doesn't know!" You insisted

Your father scoffed and you felt your chest tighten. Your eyes watered as you gave a weak huff.

"I didn't tell him. I promise, I didn’t say a thing,” you whispered. “I only said I had a stuffed animal that was burned after the outbreak."

His glare was as pointed as a needle’s tip. "You'd better not be lying to me, girl. If the truth got out… well, we would both be ruined, wouldn't we, daughter?"

"Yes, father."

He straightened out his jacket. "Leave me now." He pointed at Viktor. "And get that thing out of my sight."

You left without another word. It was a mindless journey to your room, and you wondered why you felt so numb. Five minutes prior you were the happiest you'd been in a long time. You were receiving a thoughtful gift from what you thought was a trusted friend, and now you sat collapsed on the carpet of your room, uncontrollable tears blotting your cheeks.

You should be stronger than this. You'd withstood a tumultuous childhood and lonely youth. You lost your mother to a pair of greedy nobles. You were denied friends and love and always made to feel lesser, like you were a vile sight and poor replacement for what was lost to the Antonovs.

You cried into Viktor's head, your chest aching with the weight of not being good enough–both for your supposed family, and for your once-fiance and former friend, Nikolai.

..........

A/N: Evil ending for this part, am I right? Anyway... Thanks for reading! Feel free to like, reblog, and comment if you want to read more, I really appreciate the feedback! If you want to be tagged in the other parts of this series or to be added to the Nikolai taglist please comment on this part or send me an ask. And if you want to request a fic, please feel free to send in an ask. Otherwise, I hope you have a great day/night :)

Masterlist

Taglist:

@xceafh @rhaenyrakryze @thecrowsgambit @nghtwngs @hauntedenthusiasttragedy

@stuffyownswrld @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @iwantmyredvelvetcupcake @angie-likes-to-read @take-me-to-ny

@historianthesecond @kataraluvr @lunamadhatter99 @lareinaa007 @folklorde24

@a-candle-maker @elicheel @charmingpatronus @chaoticswampwitch

@radiantactions @auranightangle @girlofthunder

Nikolai Taglist:

@sweet0pia-uwu @notoakay @naushtheaspiringauthor @marchingicenotes7 @eyeofthestorm

@poseidont @hashcakes

[faith-skull]

🦋About my blog🦋

I go by she/her and you can call me Kaizeril or Kai

I write for different cod characters I do not write NSFW content I only write SFW content

‼️ please DO NOT be weird or request weird stuff‼️

Characters I may write for (you can request whatever cod characters you want!!):

Jason Hudson

Russell Adler

Maxim Antonov

Ingo Beck

William Peck

Lev Kravchenko

Vladimir Makarov

Grigori Weaver

Nikolai

David Mason

John Price

Gabriel T. Rorke

Dimitri belikov

Vadim Rudnik

"Bell"

Mendo Garcia

Victor Zakhaev

Philip graves

(I'm sorry if this intro thing sucks I'm new to writing..)

[shadowscommand]

CoD characters gloryhole thoughts?

good morning. I'm putting this under a readmore.

so okay like first of all who would Make a glory hole. there's a lot of characters that would talk about one or be willing to go to one but who would Actually cut a hole in the bathroom stall. Kreuger on Allegiance, Wyatt on Coalition, Gus on specgru (AS A JOKE. HE DOES NOT EXPECT ANYONE TO USE IT), and i cant really see anyone on kortac doing it??? in other games i think it'd just be, like, some random milsim doing it. like nobody in ghosts would make a glory but maybe if they found one they would use it. maybe. COLD WAAARR blops in general uhh for NATO bulldozer. for warsaw pact stone.

i think blops would see the least amt of usage tho i think itd be hard to at the same time get two gay dudes in the bathroom everyone in blops is so straight to me. and if theyre not straight they dont want to get caught sucking dick in the bathroom. they also are the most loose "group" so i dont think they really have a Base they just are working with each other around the globe so. like frank would use one, STITCH #1 glory hole user he wants his dick sucked so bad, antonov, bulldozer, i think beck is straight but hed be curious hed use one at least once. jackal. baker maybe i think hes straight but curiosity gets the better of him. stryker wouldnt because hes insane. hes gay but insane hes the one telling someone in charge about the gloryhole.

ghosts like i said i think keegan and merrick would use one but, like, its Just Them they'd find a bathroom in the destroyed us of a and be like Lmao.... wanna rp as strangers.. and then theyd do that. keegan and logan maybe idk imo theyre really will they wont they sort of missed opportunity. so idk. this could be one of the handfuls of times they mess around before logan gets kidnapped.

mwii uhh while i can't see anyone in kortac making one i can see zeus, conor, zero, and maybe maybe klaus using it. santa can get his dick sucked. i think nobody would like Make a complaint about it also tho like its mainly going to be ignored. theyre probably also the most like blops cw guys also theyre not like In a group. for once also nikto isnt using it bc of his heightened paranoia im thinking. Could be anyone on the other side. specgru Uh yeah price is using that thing. soap is telling ghost about it and hes like :) LT can we and ghost is like sure whatever. soap is only going to it when he knows who someone else is in there tho. he'll go for ghost and price. gaz is the same but he'll ONLY go for price. but also chuy, gromsko, and zimo will put their dicks in there. theyre on rotation. (this is just bc i want to see them suck dick.) Gus is genuinely shocked when he hears people talk about using it hes like Huh. What. No. Oh my god do Not suck dick in the bathroom it was just a JOKE. it will eventually get patched over. Gus does not fess up that he did that.

mw19 leading king of gloryhole usage. who ISNT using one. the girls and the lesbians !? the straight guys !? wyatt did it like "as a joke" like lmaoo i cant Believe you guys are making me do this !! but nobody is. he is texting otter a pic after like Meet me in 10 minutes. wyatt is going to suck golems dick and only he's going to know he did it. alex is married so he wont but he would. if he wasnt. griggs is In There bro. d-day would but hes too nervous to. NOBODY is saying shit except talon. talon is going to ruin it for everyone and tattle and get it patched and everyone is going to get a Stern talking to. so. kreuger is doing it bc he wants a glory hole. he wants to make rodion use it with nikto. he wants nikto to use it just in general. both sides. nobodys ever taking it out if you tell anyone nobody cares. nikolai is like Oh how fun. Kamarov is like I don't care. Don't bother me ever again. Lerch will patch it up himself and Kreuger will make a new one

[daredevlls]

comics oc: nate matthews/nikolai antonov

father of river and hawthorne matthews, missing in action

[inky-duchess]

Here's my OC Freya Antanov! :)))

Nimble-footed and slyfingered, Freya is known for pocketing more than a few nobles trinkets on heists- which occasionally end up fucking up the mission (to her friends annoyance)

Freya's loud-mouthed and brash persona conceal her lingering trauma and desperate need for validation.

Name: Freya Antonov

Age: 18, going on 19

Gender: Female, she/her

Sexuality: Bisexual (no preference)

Personality: Bold, loud, rowdy, outgoing, masks her trauma by distracting others with her charm. Flirts a lot and is known for being a notorious player- though the only one she means her flirtations to is Kiva…

Appearance: pale complexion, scrawny brown hair that is tied into a messy ponytail with flyaway hair and hazel eyes. She has scars on her knuckles from fighting off people. Her wrists have faint bruises. She wears a poet shirt and torn, frayed trousers and occasionally wears eyeliner.

Job: She is part of the Burrow

Skills: pickpocketing, charming people in order to let her friends get away/sneak out on heists

Home: Formerly The Charity Bunker's Home for Displaced and Abandoned Children, currently the Burrow.

People she’s close to: Art (best friends- she’s his wingwoman- Art gets VERY annoyed about this), Nikolai (former one-sided crush, good friends) Kiva (…I honestly don’t know what to call it friends- I guess- she occasionally flirts with him though he probably gets annoyed at her)

Zodiac: Sun is Aries, Moon is Leo and Ascendant/Rising is Gemini

Song to sum her up: White Rabbit by Jefferson Airplane

Backstory: Freya was raised in The Charity Bunker's Home for Displaced and Abandoned Children, and was naïve to its darkness until she turned 15 and ran away.

Freya managed to survive on her own until, at 17-turning 18 a day after- she broke her leg- and was found by a gentleman, promising that if she worked for him then he would fix her leg.

Desperate and starving, Freya agreed.

That was the biggest mistake she ever made.

Freya was forced into an...unsavoury line of work, one she refuses to tell others of, but they can only guess.

Eventually, Freya stumbled across the Burrow and begged to work there. They took one look at the gaunt girl, bruises speckling her wrists, and agreed.

Freya thrived, carefully cultivating an outgoing facade to distract from the shivering girl she had once been.

Though, Freya’s mask hides a darkness that lingers- a darkness she will use to do whatever it takes to survive…..

trivia:

-the burrow are often woken up by freya's screams (after she’s had a nightmare in which she has flashbacks to her past “job”-) usually at night or dawn. she then either goes pickpocketing or dances along roofs while getting drunk (and has broken a few more bones doing that!)

-when freya has a bad dream, it is noticeable by the dark circles under her eyes and the fact that she drinks coffee- she normally abhors the taste, though only drinks it when she's shaken.

-freya is a bisexual gremlin and is known for flirting with many passers-bye- to art's annoyance (who continually tells her "freya, don't get their hopes up. freya what are you doing, freya i swear if you go over there-FREYA-")

-freya loves the hue mint-green though despises the shade carmine- it reminds her of where she used to work.

-Freya is good friends with Art and often drags over men Art's age and says "oh! Art likes this as well!" and winks at Art who looks absolutely furious with Freya

(tl;dr: she’s a very bad wingwoman)

-freya used to have a crush on nikolai though got over it- she still feels awkward, though.

-freya likes to piss off kiva and often shouts "ah yes! kiva! the scourge of the shadows!" and sometimes flirts with him- though it 'tis fleeting!

-freya often flirts with girls or guys that pass by the burrow (reasons vary: she’s bored, she’s drunk, she lost a dare, she’s curious about them, she’s attracted to them etc) though it’s surface-level and freya never dallies too long.

-freya delights in stealing nobles trinkets on heists- taking it as vindictive revenge for what they did to her- and that cause heists to over-run because she’s too busy stealing and/or messing up the place. It’s…not good.

Freya’s habits (especially when she’s stressed or triggered):

-drinking

-getting high

-smoking

-stealing

D&D Class and Alignment: Rogue, Chaotic Neutral

(I just know that Freya is setting herself up for heartbreak-😭)

[werewolfstory]

Thanks to everyone who voted in my stupid character bracket. Kaleela is the winner! 🥳🥳 Here’s a breakdown of each character’s statistics:

Kaleela Antoine: 27 votes 4 wins

Baize Ross: 24 votes 3 wins

Romulus Baker: 14 votes 2 wins

Lennox Smith: 11 votes 2 wins

The Equipoise: 10 votes 1 win

Khenan Smith: 6 votes 1 win

Crow Armitage: 6 votes 0 wins

Grace Beaumont: 5 votes 1 win

Imad Alatas: 4 votes 1 win

William Armitage: 3 votes 0 wins

Hollyhock Keaton: 2 votes 0 wins

Aidan Clarke: 2 votes 0 wins

Matthew Warwick: 2 votes 0 wins

Nikolai Antonov: 2 votes 0 wins

Harry Dashwood: 1 vote 0 wins

Edward Armitage: 0 votes 0 wins

[mist-the-wannabe-linguist]

FINALLY IT'S FUCKING DONE OH MY GOD

it took over 100 layers

and is apparently so big I can't upload it to tumblr. welp

it's all of our guys look at them

For those who haven't been here from the start, this is the full (excluding like three characters who never got a ref sheet afaik) list of characters for the Frankenstein sequel AU called From The Ship Logbooks that me and some of my mutuals have been playing around with for...

...three years in about a month.

And now for the first time I finally kicked myself into actually finishing a full reference sheet for the entire crew

Morten Bakken, Pierre D'Aboville, André Montmorency, Finn Olsen, Claude Roussel and Émile Doisneau belong to @pixelmuppet, Tristan Booker and Øyvind Pedersen belong to @mad-scientist-in-theory-2, Jack Corbyn, Lynx and Cadieux Auclaire belong to @the-gay-prometheus, Owain Rhys belongs to @aimless--jack, Winston Atkinson belongs to @dippydots, Tadgh Farrell belongs to @you-are-constance, Elias Golubev, Guy Renoir, Gustave Doisneau belong to @hermes-left-nut, Fintan O'Heaney, Martial Scott and Pierre Capret belong to @casual-owl, Nicu Boamos belongs to @hypo-critic-al, Valentine Laurent, Alexander Ivanov and Pierre Naudé belong to @severedfeetpics, Jacques Renoir and Johan Federssen belong to @corvidiss, Rune Hermansen, Mittens and Pierre Bellavoir belong to @twistedtriptych, Nikolai Antonov, Andrey Morozov and Enok Johansen belong to @a-model-of-propriety, Jens Aaberg belongs to @lordbrezel, the remaining characters were created in collab by me and @scarlet-being, and ofc Ernest Frankenstein, Robert Walton and Margaret Saville were created by Mary Shelley

*a single, quiet and exhausted wahoo*

[a-model-of-propriety]

sasha interacting with your sailors is always a balm to the soul, i give you free reign to do whatever with him lol

Sasha my utmost beloved <333

this one takes place not long after this fic (aka the one where he calls Nikolai "Kolya" without knowing Nik's History with the nickname)

–

Somehow, Sasha managed to find Nikolai’s hiding place. He crouched down just outside the nook – definitely for the best, seeing as Nik could only just fit himself – but didn’t say anything. He just sat there, waiting patiently.

Eventually, Nik inevitably broke the silence. “I’m not mad at you,” they said.  “It’s not your fault, what I said and did.”

“Still, I want to apologize,” Sasha said. “I didn’t mean to upset you, and I promise I won’t do it again.”

“Thank you.” Slowly, Nik crawled out of the nook so they and Sasha sat next to each other. “Did– did you spend this whole time looking for me?”

“Not the whole time. I wanted to give you some time alone before I started looking for you. You looked like you needed it.” Sasha hesitated for a moment before adding, “Memories?”

Nik nodded. “Not all bad, but… you know.”

Despite Nik’s chattering and talkative nature, they still had to force themself to go on. “That… that nickname you used, it’s what my parents used to call me. I’ve already told practically everyone here the drama of me running away, but let’s just say there was a bit more behind it than just not liking violin. They were… suffocating. I couldn’t do it anymore. So I left, and no one has called me that name since. Hearing that name again, it just brought it all back.”

Nik paused, looking up at Sasha to see him completely focused on them. “I know you’re not like that. You’re a much better person – and parent, I’m sure – than either of them ever were. Any kid would be lucky to call you their father.”

That sentence seemed to catch Sasha off guard. “Thank you, Nikolai,” he said several moments later, his voice catching slightly in his throat. “That means a lot to me. I don’t want to overstep, but if you ever need anything from me, please tell me. I’m here for you, in whatever way you need me to be.”

Nikolai smiled and picked himself up off the ground. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

[montysworld]

Shadows | Coke from Jared Clayton on Vimeo.

Shadows for Ramadan and Coca Cola
.

Creative Director Duo
 Pete Nordstrom & Jonathan Yurek

 With Ogilvy



Produced by Prettybird 
EP . Jeanne Stawiarksi Line Producer . Megan Porche 
 Local Line Producer . Alihan Karagul 

 First AD . Aaron Paulson
 Local AD . Tugce Ozsen 

Director of Photography by . Andrew Droz Palermo ASC 

 Production Designed . Yigit Abik
 Gaffer . Mehmet Toz 
 Editor . Dylan Edwards 
Cut at Cabin 
Sound Design . Nikolay Antonov

 Color . Simon Bourne

[ellewritesalright]

Second Best - Part 3

Nikolai Lantsov x reader

Part 2 --- Masterlist --- Part 4

A/N: Hello! Look at me with two updates in one month, who'd have thought? Buckle in for this one, it's twice as long as the last part. Once again, I hope it is coherent enough :) and again, I gave the mc reader a last name :)

Synopsis: When you were a child, the Lantsov king and queen arranged for their second son to marry you, a rich Ravkan noble family's only daughter. After many years, after all the destruction of the war, and after Nikolai was crowned king, Nikolai breaks off the engagement. But the complications of your past and your strict parents make it a nightmare to find a new fiance, so Nikolai promises to help you, yet he slowly realizes the mistake he's made.

Warnings: strict and low-key abusive parents, very slight self-image issues because of said parents, mentions of illness and death, kinda confusing and purposefully ambiguous details that will be important later in the story (bear with me please), not 100% proofread

Word Count: 4670

..........

Being without a fiance was an unfortunate circumstance. All your life you had witnessed young women like you being paraded around in hopes that they would find suitors even richer than their families, but because the Antonovs had made their deal with the king and queen so long ago, you never had to participate in such dreadful activities. In the past month since your disbanded engagement, you had attended three large gatherings and hosted many more as your parents frantically searched for someone worthy enough to marry into the family.

As you wound down for the evening, feet killing you and your head a bit buzzed from all the wine of another party, you slunk over to your vanity. After removing your makeup, you reached into the top drawer, trailing your fingers across its ceiling where you'd tacked a letter. It had arrived in the morning, after breakfast when you were by yourself in the library. But you'd yet to read it, too busy with your parents' antics to hide away and comb through the words. With a brief admiration of the double-eagle seal, you grabbed your letter opener and cut it open. 

The handwriting was long and there were lovely loops in the 'p's and 'g's; you smiled to yourself as your eyes followed their rounded paths. Nikolai was always perfectly composed, and so were his letters. This was the third one you'd received, and he wrote of more possible suitors for you. There were some more details about his day-to-day in response to a few light-hearted queries you had posed in your last response. When he asked for embellishment on your ideas of mechanical updates at your family's estate you were so eager to start drafting your response that you almost tipped over your ink canister.

He had also requested that you assess the suitors recommended in his previous letter, and you frowned as you rated them. 

Each one was well-bred and richer than the last, but none felt right. There was always something wrong with them, like wandering eyes, or a terrible way of spitting when speaking, or one suitor who had kissed your hand so sloppily you thought a hickey would form. They were all unattractive in their own ways, and you wrote as much in your letter to the king. In your closing, you made sure to thank him again for looking out for you. It was too kind of him. 

At the end of this most recent letter, he said that he enjoyed playing matchmaker. Apparently, it was a brief and welcome reprieve from the hard topics of war and politics. If he wasn't exaggerating this fact, your thanks would likely mean nothing to him, but you thanked him nonetheless.

You grazed a finger across his signature at the bottom of his letter. Yours truly, Nikolai.

If your hand had not reached up to your mouth in a moment of contemplation, you might have missed the smile that etched itself onto your lips, but the shape of it was unmistakable beneath your touch. You banished that smile and went to bed, trying to banish Nikolai from your mind as well, but finding it more than a little difficult. The swooping lettering of Yours truly was printed on the inside of your eyelids.

……….

“How did you enjoy the first act of the ballet, Lord and Lady Antonov?”

Your head twisted around to see Nikolai standing at the doorway to your family’s opera box. Your father politely stood from his seat and bowed to the king while you and your mother bowed your heads. You softly grinned at Nikolai, keeping your excitement measured in front of your parents.

“It was overdone,” your mother replied.

“Quite,” nodded your father.

“I think it is rather lovely so far,” Nikolai said. He looked at you. “And your thoughts, my lady?”

You looked up at your friend. “I think it is overdone, yet charmingly so. I rather enjoyed the dance with the foxes; the dancers all moved remarkably like canines."

Nikolai grinned and nodded. "That has also been my favourite part so far."

"And the sets are just magnificent."

"Aren't they?"

You both smiled at one another for a moment. A moment that was broken by your father clearing his throat. 

"What brings you to our box, your highness?" Your father asked.

Nikolai looked over at him, smiling politely. "I was actually coming to introduce a friend of mine to your family." Nikolai gestured to the door, and you noticed a man about ten years your senior standing there that you hadn't noticed when Nikolai walked in. "This is Lord Alexei Alianovic. Alexei, this is Lord and Lady Antonov and their daughter." 

Lord Alexei bowed to you and your parents. "It is a pleasure to meet you, lord and Lady Antonov." He smiled at you. "And you, my lady. His highness has told me much about you."

"All good things I hope," you said with a gentle expression as you glanced between him and Nikolai. The king had a small smirk on his lips as he looked back at you.

"Quite," Alexei nodded.

"Alianovic? You're Lord Dmitri Alianovic's son?" Your father asked him.

"I am, sir."

Your mother looked pleased, which couldn't bode well for you.

Your mind quickly cycled through everything you knew about the Alianovics, trying to find something wrong. The Alianovics were wardens of a large stretch of southern Ravka. But Lord Dmitri was rather old and would likely die in a short manner of years, leaving his entire estate to his heir, Alexei. The Alianovics were an old and reputable Ravkan family too, with a few blood ties to the royal family from many decades back; Alexei would be Nikolai's very distant cousin, then.

Looking between him and Nikolai again, you could see no resemblance. Not in hair colour, eye colour, face shape, bone structure, or even stature. Lord Alexei was tall and lanky, with chestnut hair and dark brown eyes and a charming mustache. Nikolai was also younger by about ten years. Still, Alexei was decently handsome for a suitor.

While lost in your thoughts, you didn't notice how your parents had seemed to step closer to Alexei like a pair of vultures.

"I should give my condolences for your loss, Lord Alexei," your father suddenly said. You didn't like the calculation in his brow. "What a terrible thing it is to lose the person you love."

Alexei's expression drooped a bit. "Thank you, lord Antonov."

"It is a great tragedy that your daughter will grow up without her mother," Lady Antonov said to him. 

That's rich, coming from you, you thought to yourself as you held back a scoff.

You looked between your parents and Alexei, who was growing paler by the second. Now that they mentioned it, you remembered that the Alianovic heir was a young widower with a little daughter. His wife had died in some horrible horse riding accident.

"Ana is too young to know any different," Alexei said sadly. "Though sometimes it seems like she misses her mother."

You somberly clasped your hands together and offered him a sympathetic look. Unlike your scheming parents, you truly did feel for him. 

"It can't be easy to raise a young child on your own, but I am sure you're giving her the best life you can," you smiled softly.

"I've seen him with little Ana; there is no father more attentive and caring than Alexei," Nikolai said. Alexei bowed his head a bit at the compliments.

"Ah, but what life is it for a young girl to live without a mother?" Lady Antonov spoke up again. You nearly glared at her blatant attempt at setting you on this poor man. "When I think of all the things I have taught my own daughter, I can't imagine a man ever understanding what it's like. My daughter knows how close a bond can grow between mothers and daughters--knows how important that relationship is--don't you, my dear?"

She cast you a look; a warning and a warm smile and a quick condescension all rolled into one.

You nodded, holding back the bitter taste that jumped into your throat. You tore your eyes from her to look over at Alexei again.

"I feel for your Ana in what she has lost." You expressed all your empathy as you spoke to him. "The pain of losing a mother is unimaginable… losing someone so important in life, especially as a child, isn't easy for anyone."

Your mother stiffened a touch. Your father did too.

"But you sound like an excellent father to Ana. You should be proud." You softly smiled at him.

Alexei nodded at your words. "Thank you, my lady. You are very kind."

"And you are very patient to have weathered my parents' barrage of questions."

Nikolai almost snorted at your joke. Your parents did not have the same reaction. For a brief second, you saw their anger; then they forced a laugh, playing off your words.

"You'll find our daughter is quite spirited at times, Lord Alexei," Lady Antonov commented. She was still saving face after you'd insulted her and your father.

"I don't mind it," Alexei chuckled quietly. "She has the same humour as my late wife did."

Your parents began engaging Alexei in a real conversation, and Nikolai took the moment to slowly step up beside you.

"Saints, your parent's methods are brutal," he murmured so only you could hear. "Your mother especially."

"Tell me about it." You restrain from rolling your eyes.

Nikolai let his volume grow just slightly as his words became innocuous again. "I'm going to the shore tomorrow."

"As in the shore of the true sea? How long will that take?" You raised a brow.

"My envoy will be gone for a full month. But I promise to write to you." He smiled then grew quiet again. "Can't leave you completely alone with these maniacs, now can I?"

You almost laughed.

Bells outside your opera box signaled that the show was about to continue, so Nikolai and Alexei took their leave. The rest of the evening passed uneventfully. At least, until you got into the carriage going home.

"It was good of that impish king to introduce you to Lord Alexei," Lady Antonov began. "He stands to inherit quite a large title from his father, you know."

You nodded then rested your head against the carriage's side wall. "I know, mother."

"Stop slouching," she huffed.

"It is just us three, mother."

"I don't care. You will sit up straight, you stubborn little girl." Her eyes were hard.

You glanced at your father beside you. You were searching for a shred of support from him since sometimes he would not leave you to fight her alone. But tonight he did not offer even a glance in your direction. He just stared boredly at the darkness outside his window.

Your eyes crossed to hers again. Your hand began itching as you sat up straight.

"That's better, daughter of mine." Her hands folded on her lap. "You nearly ruined things tonight."

"Ruined what? Lord Alexei liked me," you said, holding back an eye roll.

"You nearly told him. And the king."

You pursed your lips, scratching at a dotted scar on your knuckle. "I did not."

"You were quite close to it."

"I was not."

"You spoke of loss."

"So?" You sighed heavily. "I was sympathizing with Lord Alexei--and in case you didn't notice, he liked me better for it."

The carriage arrived home and you stepped out before the chauffeur could open the door for you. You hurried inside, heading upstairs to your suite rooms. But Lady Antonov was hot on your tails.

"Stop, dear," she commanded. 

You did not stop. You kept climbing the stairs. But she grabbed your arm before you could get inside your room.

"You're a little ingrate, girl, but fortunately you're still my daughter. And as my daughter, you will shut up and do what I tell you to do and say what I tell you to say."

Her hand tightened on your arm. Her voice was low, but sharp as a hound's bite.

"If I tell you to jump, you'd better be in the air. If I tell you to keep your mouth shut about your beginnings, you'd better sit silently with a pleasant smile on your face and remember how lucky you are to be where you are."

Her other hand went to grip your chin. You could feel her nails dig into your face ever so slightly.

"Do you understand me, daughter?" She hissed.

You nodded, and her grip tightened on your chin.

"I want to hear you say it, girl."

"I understand, mother." You grit out

She kept you locked there for a moment longer, then she let go of you. "Go to bed. You look unkempt."

You said nothing as you went into your room and shut the door behind you. You held it together until you got to your bed, then you fell apart. You clamped a hand over your mouth to staunch the sobs as tears poured over onto your cheeks. 

……….

A month passed by slowly. You were paraded around by your parents, your mother in particular, to every party and gathering among nobles and high-ups in Os Alta. Each outing was more miserable than the last. 

You would dance and drink, and dance and drink, and dance and drink, while your mother plotted conversations and chance encounters with any man she deemed suitable. She had a knack for finding the richest man in the room; no wonder she had married your father all those years ago.

Tonight was one such night like all the rest. Though tonight you promised yourself to abstain from drinking. The hangover after your last outing with your parents had confined you to your bed for half the day, and you needed to keep sharp for tomorrow. Nikolai was returning home from the western shore to a small celebratory dinner at the Grand Palace. He sent an invitation to you with your usual letters, though you could hardly describe them as usual. 

What started with Nikolai's quest to find you a suitor had developed into a weekly correspondence that did not stop even as he traveled the country on kingly duties. In fact, your most recent letters from him only contained a couple of names for you to consider. You had written that he must be giving up hope, and he replied that he was vetting potential husbands based on the critiques you had given so far–of which there were plenty to pull from, he mused.

Lady Antonov extended a glass of bubbly to you but you shook your head. She rolled her eyes and took your hand, wrapping your fingers around the stem of the glass

"Drink and socialize," she ordered.

"I have the king's dinner tomorrow, mother," you told her.

She suppressed a frown, lowering her voice in case she said anything treason-worthy. "I don't care about that lousy boy and his dinner. General Halinsky was good enough to invite us this evening and I won't have you sulking in the corner. Now, go make nice with all the soldiers. And look for a myriad of medals on their chests, dear. Don't settle for one or two."

With her instructions in your head, you walked about the room, slipping in and out of conversations with ease. The older men all wore many honourable medals pinned to their jackets, and the younger ones wore few. Conversation flowed better with the young men, while the older men spoke of things that had no bearing in your life. They laughed about old missions across the fold and complained about the decline of the nation. You tried to boost this perception, saying how you believed in the king's abilities, but they were quick to dismiss you.

"King Nikolai is too involved in the first army," the evening's host, General Halinsky, griped. "The old king used to leave the commanding to real commanders, but our boy king thinks he can boss us all around just because his daddy got him a few medals and promotions during his time as a soldier."

You took the opportunity to defend him. "His highness earned those promotions on the battlefield. He--"

"He made major by 17. I made major by 23. The boy obviously had help from his father."

"What an unfortunate and incorrect assumption on your part, General," you said with a bright smile, the kind of smile that these men expected to see from a young woman like you. "His highness got the promotion at 17 because he was obviously better at the job than you ever were."

You walked off after that, absorbing yourself in a discussion between two younger soldiers of the benefits of first and second army mingling. You sipped on your drink and politely smiled back at Halinsky anytime you felt his eyes driving into the side of your head. You upset the host, and your mother was guaranteed to be livid, but you couldn't care less. If defending Ravka's king made people upset, then maybe they deserved to be upset.

One of the young soldiers you were speaking to was laughing at your mediocre jokes with the fervour of a dog playing fetch. Only two medals were pinned to him, and you pitied his efforts in this losing battle. He seemed nice enough, but nice isn't a quality your mother would forgive two medals for. Rich would do better, but he lacked the obnoxious refinement to be truly wealthy. 

Your father permitted you to go home early after you sweetly lied and said you had a terrible headache. You didn't see your mother's face as you left, but you were sure she'd be furious. It was her thought that you were more salable when you were there to be paraded around. Without you present, any talks of you would be diminished.

Still, you were in no mood to stay.

By the time you were in your carriage travelling home, you felt exhausted. With a sour taste in your mouth, you thought about how this was yet another outing that proved unsuccessful. Not a single one of the men you'd met merited any sort of consideration.

While you normally would have written to Nikolai or read one of his letters after a night like this, you didn't have anything to write which couldn't be said to him at his dinner. You would speak with him then, and all would be right.

……….

Dinner was four courses of quick conversation and good-natured travel stories, and you enjoyed every second of it. You were sat with one-third of the Grisha triumvirate to your left and a West Ravkan captain Nikolai brought back with him on your right. You were one of the only guests not part of the first or second army, and you could count on one hand the number of guests middle-aged or older. It was a young and well-versed group Nikolai pulled together.

As the king and one of his long-time first army friends recalled an embarrassing moment in their training to the eager ears of a heartrender and several first army soldiers, you turned to David, asking him about his recent work. He had your complete attention as he described a sort-of rocket launcher that was meant to couple with an inferni’s abilities.

The captain on your other side joined your conversation at this point, and he maintained a puzzled look in his eyes as he tried to figure out the schematics of David’s new contraption. You had to admit, the captain was easy on the eyes, with a decent jawline and an endearing batch of freckles on his face. You suspected that Nikolai didn't have a singular focus of politics when bringing him to Os Alta. Based on your limited conversation over dinner, the captain met all of your criteria thus far; he was handsome, conversational, and he had a sweet disposition that hadn't been spoiled by the hardship he'd endured in war.

Though you still had to wonder what kind of financial situation he was in; your mother considered anyone with less than two villas a pauper, so she had high standards when it came to the wealth of a suitor. You doubted that whatever amount of wealth the captain had would suffice.

Some of the Grisha returned to the Little Palace after dinner, but most of the guests stuck around. Those who remained were directed to the drawing room after dinner, and you followed after the group, slowing your steps as you travelled through the gallery. Your eyes wandered the portraits and landscapes, closely following every brushstroke. 

You halted completely when you looked up at a picture of the royal family. In this depiction, Nikolai was about the same age as he was when you first met him. A frown encroached on your lips as you stared at the oil painting. To think you might have married him. You might have walked past this painting for the rest of your life, but you let your resentment at your parents bubble over and you sided against them in the argument of your engagement. Now it didn't look like you would find anyone to marry. 

"You'd better hurry or the brandy will be gone," Nikolai said as he sidled up beside you, a good-natured smile on his lips.

"Then it's good I'm not known to drink brandy."

He grinned. “So you’ve chosen to admire the gallery, then?”

“Correct,” you said as you pointed at a painting of a harbour. “I don’t understand how artists do it. How they can commit the real world to canvas like that.”

“You’re quite the artist yourself,” he said with a small smirk. You gave him a confused look and he chuckled again. “That drawing that you sent with your second last letter? Of the stuffed bear you had as a child?”

You rolled your eyes. “I only drew that because you expressly commanded a sketch of him after I briefly mentioned him in a letter."

“Well, I wished to know what this beloved bear looked like,” he playfully defended. “You can’t blame me for that. Besides, it was a lovely drawing.”

“That sketch was abysmal; I’m no artist,” you sighed.

“I thought it was a perfectly charming drawing of… remind me of the bear’s name again?”

You huffed softly. “Viktor.”

“Yes. Viktor.”

"I called him Vik."

“And who gave you Vik?”

“A friend,” you answered truthfully, despite how much you knew you should lie.

“A friend,” echoed Nikolai. “Was he a brown bear?”

“No, he was grey.”

“Grey? That is rather unusual,” he grinned. “And, let me guess, you were so attached to Vik that you took him all the way with you to Ketterdam and back as a little travel companion."

Your heart raced. You shouldn’t be telling him more about this. You sighed and scratched the back of your hand. The tiny dotted scar on your knuckle itched like nothing else as your thumb soothed over it.

"Actually, no. We parted ways many years ago when I was five. Firepox spread through our household and I fell ill with it. Once it ran its course and I recovered my parents insisted that all my toys should be burned for risk of future infection."

He frowned softly. "That's too bad."

"It is," you admitted quietly.

A moment of quiet settled in the tall gallery as you both stood there. It was a sad memory you’d just divulged, and a memory that your parents would rake you across the coals for if they knew you’d told him. Still, a part of you was glad to tell him that. You rarely thought about the artifacts of your childhood, let alone voiced their ghostly memories.

Nikolai turned to face the painting nearest to you both. His eyes softened on the portrait of his family. 

"That was the last portrait ever painted of my family all together like that. We sat for it only a couple of months before I left for school."

"That was around the same time we first met.”

“We met as infants, I believe,” he said, looking at you again.

You straightened out a bit. “Right. I suppose we did." 

"Our second meeting, then. Do you remember it?" He gave a charming smile.

You rolled your eyes at the memory. "How could I forget? Lady Antonov made me wear a frilly monstrosity of a dress. It was ghastly."

"I will concede that you looked a bit like a puff pastry," he chuckled. His eyes scanned over the deep purple gown you wore now. "You seem to have developed a better sense of style since then; your gown this evening is quite lovely."

"Thank you," you said softly. Your hands clasped together again as you scratched at the apex of your first knuckle. "If I remember correctly, you barely spoke to me when we met all those years ago."

"I was fourteen, I probably didn't have much to say anyway," he shrugged.

"I don't believe that for a second."

Nikolai stared at you for a moment. It was hard to say if it was his kingly presence or the softness of his hazel eyes that had your chest constricting a bit.

"You want the truth?" He quietly asked, a tiny smile playing on his lips.

"Yes,” you nodded.

"I was afraid to make a fool of myself in front of you. I figured that the less I said, the less I could mess up."

He sounded like a boy as he spoke. His voice was vulnerable and young at that moment, a stark contrast to his broad, regal frame. Outwardly, he presented as a proud and strong figure, but on the inside, there was a youth and inexperience to his words.

"I was always afraid of messing up too. My parents were so insistent about our engagement. To them, I had to be perfect to keep our engagement intact," you quietly confessed. "If I knew we wouldn't end up married I would have stopped trying to be perfect for them a long time ago."

He pursed his lips as his eyes flitted to your hands for a second. You forced your itching fingers to be still, clamping them over your irritated skin.

"I'm sorry for any discomfort you might have endured from your parents since I broke it off. It can't be easy for you."

"I'm used to it." You gave a wry smile. Then you attempted a joke, “Finding a new fiancee is considerably harder than I thought, though.”

“So I've heard,” he chuckled slightly.

“Maybe my expectations are too high, but every suitor is too much of one thing, not enough of another. It’s an impossible task.”

“I take it that you weren’t charmed by Captain Balandin, then?”

You sighed. “He’s better than most. Kinder, younger, and more handsome than the men my mother pushes me towards, but I don’t know if he’s eligible.”

“He is single if you’re concerned,” Nikolai said as he furrowed his brows.

You shifted on your feet a bit as your face warmed. “This is going to sound incredibly greedy, but is he two villas kind of rich?”

“Two villas? Saints, no. The man is a soldier. He has a modest house in Os Kervo and a less modest apartment here in Os Alta. Otherwise, he travels around with the army.”

“Then my parents would never approve.” You let out an exhale. “Things are looking bleaker, Nikolai.”

“Don’t despair. You’re young, beautiful, clever, and you have an incredible fortune to your name,” he said half jokingly. “I am sure that there are plenty of suitors who meet your lengthy list of requirements.” 

“Really? Where?” you groaned softly. You smiled slightly at him, glancing at the other end of the gallery. “I think I'll take that brandy now."

He offered you his arm and escorted you back to the other guests.

..........

A/N: Thanks for reading! Feel free to like, reblog, and comment if you want to read more, I really appreciate the feedback! If you want to be tagged in the other parts of this series or to be added to the Nikolai taglist please comment on this part or send me an ask. Otherwise, I hope you have a great day/night :)

Masterlist --- Part 4

Taglist:

@xceafh @rhaenyrakryze @thecrowsgambit @nghtwngs @hauntedenthusiasttragedy @stuffyownswrld @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @iwantmyredvelvetcupcake @angie-likes-to-read @take-me-to-ny @historianthesecond @lunamadhatter99 @lareinaa007 @folklorde24 @a-candle-maker @elicheel @charmingpatronus

Nikolai Taglist:

@sweet0pia-uwu @notoakay @naushtheaspiringauthor @liter4ti @marchingicenotes7 @eyeofthestorm

[lovesessions-rp]

▪️ Niklaus, Elijah & Brooklyn Hachet-Raskólnikov ▪️

Sergei Antonov Nikolai Raskólnikov (pai): Josh Holloway

Olga Maria Katarina Hachet-Raskólnikov (mãe): Samara Weaving

Astrid Katarina Nicola Hachet-Raskólnikov (irmã mais velha): Willa Fitzgerald

Niklaus Sergei Antonov Hachet-Raskólnikov: Alexander Ludwig

Elijah Sergei Nikolai Hachet-Raskólnikov: Neels Visser

Brooklyn Olga Maria Hachet-Raskólnikov: Nicola Peltz

[soylazaro]

Seize The Awkward // Ad Council from Haya Waseem on Vimeo.

Seize The Awkward

Ad Council x Droga5

Production: Object & Animal EP: Justin Benoliel Director: Haya Waseem Producer: Jennifer Brooks PM: William Hickox 1st AD: Ibrahim Yilla DP: Christopher Lew PD: Hannah Meachin Stylist: Tanisha Benton Locations: Daniel Bowman Edit: Dylan Edwards / Cabin Edit Color: David Tomiak / Elemental Post Sound: Nikolay Antonov

Shot on Kodak 35mm