Mattheo Is The Type To Be So Disgustingly And Proudly Be Obsessed With Reader. Like Everyone Teases Him

𝐍𝐎𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐍𝐎𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐒 ;; nikolai lantsov

pairing ; Nikolai Lantsov x fem!Reader platonic / mentions ; tamar yul-bataar, tolya yul-bataar

outline —; Nikolai isn’t the only royal member in the Sturmhond Crew. 

WARNINGS —: none.

Word Count —; 621

A/N —; just wanted to write something again, i've been stuck in a writer's rut. NOT BOOK ACCURATE. THIS IS BASED ON THE SHOW; SHADOW AND BONE. so sorry if it's short, i'll expand on this later. for now, enjoy !!

“You’re whom?” 

His tired question echoes, voice bouncing across the room, making Nikolai slightly bite his inner cheek. He shook his head, blonde hair messily falling over the edge of his brows. You sat with your back against the headboard, the weight of your knees covering your chest. He carefully repeated his question; “Who are you?” 

You lay your cheek against your knee, a familiar smile broadly appearing across your face. A sleepy expression carried your next words, as though you weren’t thinking about what you were saying. “Secondborn Princess of Novyi Zem.” You replied with a yawn. 

Nikolai sat on the edge of the bed, the fabric of the tunic fit his body perfectly, and you forced yourself not to stare. Peaking your gaze towards your clothes. He scoffed, his hand extending to your face. His fingers found their way to your chin, forcing you to look at him. With amusement evident in his voice, he said; “Why didn’t you tell me?” 

Your fingers curled around his wrist, pulling it away, the absence of his touch lingered across the skin of your chin. Rolling your eyes, your head fell back against the bed’s headboard. “Sure, of course, I would tell you, Prince Nikolai.” You teased, shaking your head, arms wrapping around your legs. “You didn’t think you were the only royal one on board, did you?” 

Nikolai plopped himself on the bed, with his palm on his forehead, scoffing. 

No wonder you were so enticing. So polite and kind. Your posture told your status, you held your head high, shoulders on-alert, hands crossed or over each other (because, who would hold your hands if it grew cold?). Your choices were impulsive, for sure, but that was only due to the fact that the luxury of choice isn’t a right to a Princess, especially a Secondborn. The attention is with the Firstborn, the first light, the first star, the responsible, the role model. 

How could Nikolai miss all those traits? The traits that made him love you deeply. In secret. With the doors locked, he would hold his aching heart, wishing that Sturmhond is his real name. 

Then again, you adopted an alias. One that felt so uneasy leaving his tongue. He felt the need to say your real name, if you so kindly give him the permission to. “What is your name?” Nikolai asked, peeking down on your tired figure. 

You left your spot and settled beside him, elbows touching. You said your name without looking at him, carrying the bitterness of your title alongside your identity. 

“Princess…” He started slowly, maybe sleepily. His whispery voice stopped, before he turned to face you. Your gaze was still fixed on the ceiling, ignoring the Prince’s tracing eyes over your profile. “No,” He stopped, then said your name. 

The weight of your responsibilities came tumbling down. And Saints didn’t matter to you anymore, the ongoing war of Ravka, destroying the Fold, Kirigan’s return… nothing mattered. Nothing. Your name never sounded so common, yet so rare. Your parents named you after a Queen, and as the saying goes, ‘Name her after a Queen and expect her to act like one.’ 

For a moment, you were so thankful that you were in a foreign land. One that didn’t recognize your name in its meaning. Thankful for your impulsive and rash decision that one midnight. The one night you fled, met Tamar and Tolya, and joined Sturmhond’s Crew. 

The one night that changed your view in a world so cruel. That, perhaps, a stranger’s name could belong to you. But he proved you wrong. Your name belongs to you. 

“Out there, Princess” Nikolai pointed to the walls, eyes closed. “In here, No titles,” Nikolai smiled. 

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time capsule

Nathaniel Orion G. K. / 12/23

taylor swift + aligned stars

I think it applies to mostly East Asians, though, I could be wrong.

In the Philippines, the wife takes the husband's surname, as well as her children. In India, in 'patriarchal tradition' the woman is supposed to take the husband's surname in order to be apart of his family. In (South) Korea, the women does not take their husband's surname, although their children will have it at birth (this may also involve the country Malaysia).

If you're a writer, your own research would be appreciated if you strive for realism and accuracy. :)

Hey, I read somewhere that Asian/ some Asian wives don’t take their husbands name, does anyone know if this is true and can anyone point me in an appropriate naming character resource?

SHMI SKYWALKER - THE LIVING FORCE

These aren't the things children should watch or experience.

When I separated myself from my brother, I left my kindness for bitterness. And my gratitude was traded for ambition.

When I split myself in the womb, my brother inherited my sanity. And I, his sarcasm.

THE GREENS. (THE BLACKS.)

You are born in Autumn. Somewhere in September, you are alive, in those early years where the world is growing consciousness. And every discovery is new. There are shades of yellow and green blooming everyday: your favorite colors as you grow. You are born with ambition. Raised in soft houses, and gentle words. There are beliefs you deny. You leave people. You are so many things that cannot be described. Yet, you are present in guitar riffs, conch shells, pears, yellow pouring through the window of the train. You are like James: who had an ego the size of a lake but a heart to match it. Your eyes are dipped in minerals from the very core of the earth. You were touched with goodness from your dead father and sister. You are alive. You hurt people. You leave them and you hurt them. You are the reason the air is wide.