Nikolai Lantsov - Tumblr Posts - Page 2
Zoyalai au idea! Pre sab
Young Nikolai and Zoya meet at the winter fete. He has just decided to join the first army, and she doesn't think an otkazatsya can actually make any difference in the field. She seems mean, but he still wants to ask her to dance. Yet he doesn't, because people are watching and he has learnt to please the court, he doesn't want to draw his family's attention to the grisha girl. He is leaving, he doesn't need any more ties to this place.
But maybe in another life he will be braver, maybe in another life he will ask and she will dance with him.
**In Another Life**
Under the high-vaulted ceilings of the Grand Palace ballroom, laughter and music mingled with the clinking of crystal glasses. Chandeliers sparkled overhead, casting a warm glow on the lavishly dressed guests who danced and chatted, oblivious to the cold winter night outside.
The Winter Fete was a display of Ravkan nobility at its finest, but to Nikolai Lantsov, it felt like a gilded cage.
Nikolai stood near the edge of the ballroom, surveying the scene. His mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, having just committed himself to join the First Army. It was a bold move, one that he hoped would forge his own path away from the expectations of his royal lineage. He yearned for adventure, for a chance to prove himself beyond the pampered life of a prince.
As he scanned the room, his eyes landed on Zoya Nazyalensky. She stood apart from the crowd, a striking figure in a sapphire gown that matched her sharp, observant eyes. Zoya was a Squaller, one of the powerful Grisha, and her reputation preceded her. She exuded confidence and a touch of aloofness, seeming almost untouchable.
Nikolai took a deep breath, steeling himself as he approached her. “Good evening, Miss Nazyalensky,” he greeted, bowing slightly.
Zoya turned to face him, her gaze cool and appraising. “Prince Nikolai,” she replied, her tone polite but distant. “To what do I owe this rare honor?”
“I’ve just made a decision,” Nikolai began, trying to keep his voice steady. “I’m joining the First Army.”
Zoya raised an eyebrow, a faint smirk playing on her lips. “An otkazat'sya in the First Army? That’s ambitious.”
Nikolai chuckled, though her words had a sting of truth. “I thought you might have some advice. After all, you’ve seen more of the real world than most here.”
Her eyes narrowed slightly, scrutinizing him. “Advice? Surprising that a prince would seek advice from a Grisha.”
“Everyone needs guidance,” Nikolai replied, meeting her gaze. “And I think there’s more to you than the court gossips say.”
Zoya’s expression softened, just a fraction. “You’re persistent, I’ll give you that. But let me warn you, Your Highness, the battlefield is no place for pampered princes. It’s harsh and unforgiving.”
“I’m not afraid of hard work,” Nikolai said earnestly. “I want to make a difference.”
“Wanting and doing are different things,” Zoya said, her tone almost gentle. “But perhaps you’ll surprise us all.”
Nikolai felt a warmth spread through him at her words, a glimmer of approval from someone he respected. He hesitated, then, his eyes flicking to the dance floor. “Would you care to dance?”
Zoya’s eyes widened slightly in surprise, but before she could respond, a group of courtiers nearby turned to watch them, their whispers and curious glances weighing heavily on him. He remembered his place, the expectations, the scrutiny of the court.
He smiled, a touch ruefully. “Another time, perhaps. When the eyes of the court aren’t so intent on every move.”
Zoya’s gaze softened, a hint of understanding there. “Perhaps,” she said, inclining her head.
Nikolai took a step back, bowing once more. “I hope to see you again, Miss Nazyalensky. Maybe on the battlefield, maybe somewhere else.”
“Until then, Prince Nikolai,” Zoya replied, her voice carrying a promise.
As he walked away, Nikolai felt a pang of regret. He imagined a different life, one where he was braver, where he asked her to dance despite the eyes watching them. In that life, perhaps they would have shared a dance, a conversation that revealed more of themselves, and the start of something neither could predict.
But for now, he had chosen his path, one that led away from the glittering halls of the palace and into the unknown of the battlefield.
He cast one last glance at Zoya, her figure still a striking presence amidst the nobility, before stepping out into the cold night, ready to face whatever awaited him.
Zoyalai au idea no 2. Canon divergence
Zoya's power did not reveal itself on her wedding day, it happened during her first night with the husband years later. She is 13 and accidently kills her husband before he even lays a finger on her. She is alone (her parents were paid and sent away long ago) with her newly aquired grisha powers, happily the servants help her and cover the death. She becomes a widow, with her late husband's money she doesn't feel the need to join the second army, so she hides her powers.
Years later when the fold is gone, the new king during his travels across Ravka stops in her estate. And one night his demon escapes.
*Genya is probably the general here...🤔
*Zoya's aunt and cousin join her after she becomes a widow
She was only thirteen when she became a widow. Married off to a much older nobleman for the sake of alliances, her fate had been sealed long before she could even understand it. Her parents, lured by promises of wealth and status, had sent her away without a second thought. And on that wedding night, in the quiet confines of her husband's lavish chambers, fear and desperation had gripped her heart.
It wasn't supposed to happen like this. She was meant to be a pawn in someone else's game, a tool to be wielded for power and influence. But when his hands reached for her, when the darkness threatened to consume her innocence, something inside Zoya snapped.
The power surged through her veins like wildfire, uncontrolled and raw. She hadn't even known she was Grisha until that moment, when the force of her newfound abilities lashed out in self-defense. In an instant, he was dead, his lifeless body slumped on the bed.
Zoya had been alone then, save for the servants who had heard the commotion and rushed to her aid. Fearful yet loyal, they had helped her conceal the truth, covering up the death as an unfortunate accident. She became a widow that night, inheriting her late husband's wealth and estate.
With newfound independence, Zoya chose to hide her powers. She had no desire to join the Second Army, no need to prove herself to anyone. Instead, she focused on managing her estate, rebuilding her life in the shadow of her past.
***
Present Day
Ravka had changed. The Fold that had once divided the land was gone, thanks to the efforts of Grisha and warriors alike. Darker days seemed to recede with the passing years, replaced by an uncertain peace tinged with hope.
Nikolai was unlike any king Ravka had known before—charming, cunning, and with a darkness of his own. During his travels across the kingdom, he stopped at Zoya's estate, seeking refuge and respite from the demands of his crown.
It was on one such night, when the wind whispered through the trees and the stars twinkled overhead, that disaster struck. A demon, a remnant of darker days, escaped its bindings and threatened to wreak havoc once more.
The air crackled with tension as Zoya and her companions faced the demon. It emerged from the shadows, a grotesque creature with eyes that glowed like hot coals, its form shifting and twisting as if it were made of smoke and darkness. The very ground beneath them seemed to shudder with its malevolent presence.
Zoya's heart raced as she focused her Grisha powers, feeling the electricity hum through her veins. Beside her, her aunt and cousin stood ready, their expressions a mix of determination and fear. Genya, the King's General, with her mastery of illusions, conjured shimmering images that danced around the demon, momentarily confusing its senses. Meanwhile, Zoya's cousin, skilled in elemental manipulation, summoned gusts of wind that whipped through the air, unsettling the demon's ethereal form.
The creature let out a guttural roar, its voice reverberating through the night. Shadows coalesced around its clawed hands as it lunged forward, aiming to strike at the heart of their defense. Zoya reacted instinctively, calling forth tendrils of lightning that crackled and lashed out towards the demon. The bolts of electricity sizzled through the air, striking the creature's shadowy limbs and forcing it to recoil momentarily.
But the demon was relentless. It surged forward again, claws slashing through the air with unnatural speed. Zoya dodged to the side, narrowly avoiding a lethal strike. Her aunt's illusions shimmered and flickered, momentarily diverting the creature's attention as it lunged towards a phantom image, only to find itself striking empty air.
In the midst of the chaos, Nikolai's voice rang out, commanding his guards to reinforce their defenses. Armed soldiers moved in around them, forming a protective circle as they launched arrows and spears towards the demon. Some projectiles passed through the creature harmlessly, while others seemed to strike true, causing it to emit a piercing shriek that sent chills down Zoya's spine.
The battle wore on, each passing moment a testament to their endurance and resolve. Zoya's lightning continued to dance through the air, each strike weakening the demon's shadowy form. Her cousin conjured pillars of earth that erupted from the ground, momentarily trapping the creature in a prison of stone before it broke free with a furious roar. Genya's illusions wove intricate patterns around them, creating distractions that bought them precious seconds of respite.
But as the night deepened and fatigue threatened to wear them down, Zoya felt a surge of determination. She gathered her power, drawing upon every ounce of strength within her. Lightning arced from her fingertips in a brilliant display of light and energy, illuminating the battlefield with its blinding brilliance. The demon faltered, its form flickering and wavering as if unable to withstand the onslaught.
With a final surge of will, Zoya unleashed a torrent of lightning, directing it towards the heart of the creature. The electricity engulfed the demon in a blinding cascade of energy, causing it to emit a deafening scream that echoed through the night. Shadows dispersed like smoke in the wind, dissipating into nothingness as the creature's form disintegrated before their eyes.
Silence descended upon the battlefield, broken only by the sound of their ragged breaths and the crackling remnants of dissipating energy. Zoya stood amidst the aftermath, her chest heaving with exertion yet her spirit ablaze with triumph. Beside her, Nikolai approached, his expression a mixture of admiration and awe.
"You are more than they say," he murmured, his voice carrying a weight of understanding that resonated deep within her soul.
Zoya looked up at him, meeting his gaze with a mix of relief and exhaustion. "As are you, Your Majesty," she replied, her voice steady despite the adrenaline still coursing through her veins.
He stepped closer, the space between them narrowing until their breaths mingled in the crisp night air. "Call me Nikolai," he said softly, his hand reaching out to brush a strand of hair away from her face.
Her heart skipped a beat at the intimate gesture, her cheeks flushing with warmth. "Nikolai," she repeated, testing the name on her lips, finding a strange comfort in its familiarity.
For a moment, they stood there in silence, the weight of their shared experience hanging between them. Then, Nikolai spoke again, his voice low and earnest. "You've shown me tonight what true courage looks like, Zoya. And I... I am grateful to have witnessed it."
Zoya's gaze softened, her earlier defenses melting away in the face of his sincerity. "I couldn't have done it without you," she admitted quietly, her eyes searching his for any hint of doubt.
He shook his head gently, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "No, Zoya. You have a strength within you that is entirely your own."
Her heart swelled at his words, a warmth spreading through her chest that had nothing to do with the lingering effects of her Grisha powers. In that moment, she realized that Nikolai saw her not just as a queen in waiting, but as a woman worthy of admiration and respect.
Before she could stop herself, Zoya reached out, her hand finding his and intertwining their fingers together. His touch was warm and reassuring, grounding her in the reality of their shared triumph.
Together, they stood beneath the canopy of stars, their hearts beating in unison as the echoes of battle faded into the night. In that fleeting moment of peace, amidst the remnants of chaos and uncertainty, Zoya and Nikolai found a connection that transcended duty and expectation—a bond forged in fire and shadow, bound by courage, loyalty, and the promise of a future yet unwritten.
And as the first light of dawn kissed the horizon, casting its golden glow upon their intertwined hands, they knew that whatever challenges lay ahead, they would face them together.
Stay With Me
masterlist
Genre: Angst
Word Count: 2027
Summary: Zoya takes care of a sick Nikolai, who happens to be down with the flu.
---
The fierce winter winds howled outside, as Nikolai Lantsov lay in his bed, pale and feverish. The once vibrant and indomitable king now appeared frail, his skin flushed and clammy, his breath coming in labored gasps. The room was cold, despite the roaring fire in the hearth, the chill seeping through the stone walls and biting at Zoya's skin.
Zoya stood by his side, her expression a mask of composure that hid the turmoil within. She had seen him wounded before, seen him on the brink of death more times than she cared to count, but this was different. This was an enemy she couldn’t fight, an illness that didn’t respond to her powers or to any remedy they could find.
"Nik," she murmured, her voice barely audible over the wind. "You need to rest."
Nikolai’s eyes fluttered open, and he managed a weak smile. "Rest is for the dead, my dear," he replied, his voice hoarse. "And I am not quite there yet."
Zoya’s heart clenched at his words. "Don’t say that," she said sharply, her fingers tightening around the edge of the blanket. "You’re going to get better."
He reached out a trembling hand, covering hers with a touch that was both comforting and heartbreaking. "Zoya," he said softly, "we both know that’s not true. The healers have done all they can, and even you…" He trailed off, the unspoken words hanging heavy in the air.
Zoya looked away, unable to meet his gaze. She had tried everything, pouring all her power into him, but nothing worked. The flu was relentless, a silent killer that showed no mercy.
"I can't lose you," she whispered, her voice breaking.
Nikolai squeezed her hand gently. "You are stronger than you know," he said. "And Ravka needs you. You’ve always been the strength behind the throne, Zoya. You can lead them without me."
"I don’t want to lead without you. You are the heart of Ravka."
He smiled then; a ghost of his usual grin. "Then you’ll have to be its heart and soul."
Tears welled up in her eyes, but she blinked them back. She had to be strong for him, for Ravka, for herself. "I don’t know how to do this without you," she admitted.
"You’ll find a way," he assured her. "You always do."
Hours passed, the night dragging on in a haze of fever and whispered conversations. Nikolai spoke of plans and contingencies, of allies and enemies, trying to prepare her for a future without him.
It was the hardest thing he’d ever done, but he knew it was necessary. He had to make sure she would be alright, even if he wasn’t there to see it.
"You know, when I’m gone, you should really redecorate this room. Maybe something less gloomy. Brighten it up a bit."
Zoya rolled her eyes, despite the ache in her chest. "Stop talking like that," she said, her voice hard. "You’re not going anywhere."
"Always the optimist," he chuckled weakly. "But seriously, Zoya. Promise me you’ll take care of things. Of yourself. Of Ravka."
"I promise," she said, her voice trembling. "But I’m not giving up on you. You’re too stubborn to die from something as mundane as the flu."
"I do like to make a grand exit," he admitted with a tired smile. "But just in case, you should know… I trust you. More than anyone. You’ll make a fantastic queen."
Zoya’s breath caught in her throat. "Don’t you dare," she whispered fiercely. "Don’t you dare leave me."
His eyes softened, and he reached up to touch her cheek. "I wish I didn’t have to," he said. "But you’ll be alright. You’re the strongest person I know."
She leaned into his touch, closing her eyes against the flood of emotions. "You’re not allowed to die, Nikolai Lantsov," she said, her voice breaking. "I forbid it."
He tried to laugh, but it quickly turned into a fit of coughing that left him gasping for breath. "Is that an order, my Queen?" he managed to choke out between coughs.
"Yes," she replied, her voice trembling as she handed him a cloth to wipe his mouth. "An order from your queen."
His smile faded, replaced by a look of profound sadness. "I wish I could obey," he said softly. "But some things are beyond even a privateer’s control."
The night dragged on, and Nikolai grew weaker, his breathing more labored. Zoya stayed by his side, refusing to leave him even for a moment. She held his hand, whispered reassurances, and tried to keep the fear at bay.
Nikolai's coughs continued to grow frequent through the night, each one more violent than the last. The sound echoed through the room, a harsh reminder of the relentless grip of his illness. Zoya clung to his hand, trying to pour her strength into him, but she could feel him slipping away.
The room seemed to close in around them, the walls a silent witness to their anguish.
"Stay with me," she whispered, her voice trembling with desperation. "Just a little longer."
Nikolai's eyes flickered open, and he managed a faint smile. "I'm trying," he coughed, his voice barely above a whisper. "But it's hard, Zoya. So hard."
She brushed a damp lock of hair from his forehead, her touch tender despite the turmoil inside her. "You have to keep fighting," she said, her voice fierce. "For me. For Ravka."
He closed his eyes, a pained expression crossing his face. "I'm so tired," he admitted. "I don't know if I can."
Zoya's heart clenched at his words. She had never seen him like this, so vulnerable, so close to giving up. She had to be strong for him, had to keep him grounded in the world of the living.
Tears welled up in her eyes, but she blinked them back. She had to be strong for him, had to show him that she could carry on. "I can't lose you," she whispered, her voice breaking. "Not now. Not ever."
His eyes fluttered open, and he looked at her with a mixture of love and sadness. "You won't lose me," he said softly. "I'll always be with you. In your heart."
The minutes stretched into an eternity, the night closing in around them. Each cough wracked Nikolai's body, leaving him weaker, his breaths more labored. Zoya's heart ached with every labored inhale, every painful exhale.
"Do you remember," she said softly, trying to distract him from the pain, "the night we first met?
Nikolai's lips twitched in a faint smile. "I remember," he said, his voice barely audible. "You saw right through me."
"And you never gave up," she continued, her voice thick with emotion. "You fought for Ravka, for all of us."
His eyes opened, and for a moment, there was clarity in his gaze. "Promise me you'll keep fighting, even when I'm gone."
A sob caught in her throat, but she forced it down. She had to be strong for him, had to keep him grounded in the world of the living.
"I promise," she said, her voice breaking. "But you're not gone yet, Nikolai. Stay with me. Please."
"Zoya, I. .. I love you."
The words broke something inside her, and she felt tears spill down her cheeks. "I love you too." She leaned over him, pressing a gentle kiss to his burning forehead. "So much. Please, don't leave me."
He gripped her strong hands with his pale and trembling fingers and pressed her knuckles to his lips. "Be strong," he whispered, "for me."
And then, with a quiet exhale, Nikolai Lantsov, King of Ravka, grew still. His hand went limp in hers, and Zoya felt a profound emptiness settle in the room.
He was gone.
Gone.
For a moment, she couldn't breathe, couldn't think. She stared at his still form, unable to comprehend the reality of his death.
"No," she whispered, her voice breaking. "No, please. Come back. Please, Nikolai."
But there was no response, no sign of life. The man who had been her anchor, her strength, was gone, leaving her alone in a world that suddenly felt unbearably empty.
She clung to him, her tears falling onto his lifeless chest. "You promised," she sobbed. "You promised you wouldn't leave me."
She couldn't contain her grief any longer. She screamed.
She screamed, a guttural cry that echoed through the room and mingled with the howling wind outside. It was a raw, primal sound of loss and anguish, carried away by the winds that seemed to mourn with her.
Outside, the storm raged on.
Zoya's heart felt shattered, her entire being consumed by the void left in Nikolai's absence. She collapsed beside his bed, her sobs wracking her body.
Eventually, the healers came, their faces solemn as they gently took Nikolai's body away. Zoya stood frozen, her eyes fixed on Nikolai's still form, unable to fully grasp the finality of his absence.
She watched them go mechanically, her movements slow and deliberate, as though moving through thick fog. The world seemed to move around her, but Zoya felt suspended in a moment that refused to end.
It was Genya's gentle touch on her shoulder that finally broke through the haze. Zoya turned to her, tears streaming down her face.
"We need to go," Genya said softly, her voice breaking the silence that enveloped them.
Zoya nodded wordlessly, allowing Genya to guide her out of the room.
Each step felt heavy with the weight of the loss. As they walked away from Nikolai's bedside, Zoya couldn't shake the feeling that a part of her had been left behind with him.
Outside, the morning light filtered through the windows, casting a somber glow over the palace halls.
"Zoya, we need you. Ravka needs you."
Zoya took a deep breath, steeling herself against the pain. She had promised Nikolai she would be strong, that she would carry on. She couldn't let him down.
"I know," she said, her voice steady despite the tears still streaming down her face. "I'll be there."
Genya nodded silently. She knew this feeling.
"I remember when David..." Genya began softly, her voice carrying the weight of her own memories. "When he died, it felt like the world had stopped. Like I couldn't breathe without him."
Zoya looked at her, gratitude mingling with her grief. "How did you do it?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. "How did you cope with it?"
Genya sighed, her eyes reflecting the pain of her past loss. "At first, I didn't cope. I just existed, moving through the days because I had to. But then I realized... David wouldn't want me to just exist. He would want me to live, to find purpose again."
Zoya listened intently, drawing strength from Genya's words. "And did you?" she asked, her voice trembling.
Genya nodded, a small smile touching her lips despite the sadness in her eyes. "It took time, Zoya. Time and the support of friends like you. I found solace in helping others, in channeling my grief into something meaningful."
"You did everything you could," She murmured softly, brushing a strand of hair from Zoya's tear-streaked face. "He knew that. Nikolai knew."
"But it wasn't enough," Zoya whispered, her voice filled with anguish.
Zoya swallowed hard. "I want to honor Nikolai's memory," she admitted, her voice wavering. "But right now, I don't know how."
Genya reached out, squeezing Zoya's hand gently. "You will," she said with quiet conviction. "In your own time, in your own way. And until then, I'll be here for you, just like you were there for me."
They stood together in the alcove, the two women bound by grief and resilience.
As the morning light grew brighter outside, casting long shadows on the palace walls, Zoya felt a flicker of determination ignite within her.
She would carry on for Nikolai, for Ravka, and for herself, knowing that though his physical presence was gone, his legacy would endure in the strength of those who loved him. With Genya beside her, offering silent support and understanding, Zoya took a deep breath, ready to face the challenges ahead with newfound resolve and purpose.
Just my two Favorite Characters from the Grishaverse-Books and TV-Show.
Nikolai Lantsov💘
Kaz Brekker❤️🔥
(Little Secret: I prefer Kaz over the Tsar😁)
Hey, you! Yes, you! Are you a fan of Our Flag Means Death who's disappointed that the show was cancelled? Good news, we can help each other! I'll sign your petition and spread it around if you do the same with mine! Shadow and Bone was just as unjustly cancelled as Our Flag Means Death, and nothing unites fans more than the cancellation of their favourite shows. So what are you waiting for? Sign the petition, share it, and I will do the same!
Nikolai: So which one of you is the older sibling?
Tolya: We're twins; it doesn't matter
Tamar: It's me.
Everyone talks about "maybe I liked your stupid face" when talking about Wesper, but is anyone going to comment on the fact that Jesper literally thought Wylan looked like a prince who had fallen into the wrong story. Like he took one look at him and thought he looked like a prince.
Your honor I love him
Fair warning any and all post I make for the foreseeable future will be either Captain America and The Winter Soldier(White Wolf), or Shadow and Bone/Six of crows related
Being bi while watching shadow and bone is really annoying because at first you're like
And then you're like
