Nikolai Lantsov ♛ Korol Rezni (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
reznikolai) wrote2021-01-30 06:21 pm
reznikolai) wrote2021-01-30 06:21 pmI N B O X
@volkvolny NIKOLAI LANTSOV | ✉ ☏ 📷 |
reznikolai) wrote2021-01-30 06:21 pm
@volkvolny NIKOLAI LANTSOV | ✉ ☏ 📷 |
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I used to dream of you. All around me. [Inside me.] Feeding me darkness and watching me choke.
[He feels half-insane admitting this to the man himself. But those dreams don't touch him anymore, waning in power as his control over the monster waxes.]
Does it break your heart that I don't anymore?
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( there is a distinct satisfaction to causing terror. it's the only emotion the darkling has ever been able to reap and sow in the masses — though the grisha all loved and adored him for a time, it was built by the foundations of his intimidation. they feared him, first. new lives and new names, but the mythology behind shadow summoners has been one tower he's never been able to crumble, not that he ever sincerely tried. a population living enslaved to the monarchy needs fear as part of a healthy diet. eventually the horse's back breaks, and uprisings ensue.
he'll have to try harder to wriggle into nikolai's nightmares. as long as he is effective, he is not forgotten. )
Perhaps it would, if I didn't know you lie with every breath you take. Sturmhond, Nikolai, the monster — all parts, and none complete. None of them honest.
You do dream of me, and you don't always dislike it. You don't always loathe the choke.
I suppose that's just another thing Alina has not told you.
( instill breaking, ruination. heavy is the head that wears the crown — to the mind that always whirrs, doubt is like cancer.
the fact remains they only seem capable of fucking when at least one of them is unconscious. )
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Provoking, which is where other words of his succeed, brushing ink across his mind. Painting vivid flashes of memory from the dimness. You don't always dislike it. His mouth full, his jaw splitting, his throat bruising. Insatiability devouring so many holes inside of him.
What to do with these memories, he doesn't know. But he chooses not to be meekened.]
You're hardly celebrated for your honesty.
[Does he dare test it? Nikolai has never shied away from pulling a trigger.]
Aleksander, was it?
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( or — being entirely truthful at times just tends to make certain issues worse. while not among his virtues as a man, the darkling wouldn't say he's on par for lying the way nikolai dons masks to overlay his inner self. aleksander is only ever himself — at least at this point, unburdened by the years he spent cultivating new names, new lives, the son of himself and himselves, brought to this moment.
he's only the darkling. the black heretic. aleksander morozova, yes, to find it both freeing and damning to have his true name on nikolai's mind. )
Present.
It appears you've remembered. Glad to see your mind is in working order.
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So the Darkling knows. And he knows that Nikolai knows.
Is he humiliated? The man who made his life a living hell has seen him cracked completely open, a whimpering quivering thing in the thrall of lust. Every filthy word that had so easily dripped from his tongue in that dream, every degrading act he'd bowed to, comes back as ghosts to haunt him. He should be humiliated. The Darkling certainly wants him to be.
But hadn't desire pulled him down too? Not a monster, just a man. Aleksander. Double-edged is the weapon he wields against Nikolai.
So even though he doesn't know what to think, what to feel, he knows he cannot give the Darkling what he wants.]
How could I forget? I finally found the one thing you might be useful for.
I thought you didn't dream.
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( two liars having a standoff, then. despite what the darkling would claim — it was a dream, in all different meanings of the word. he craves domination, and nikolai gave that to him in surplus. )
What do you think I'm useful for, then? Be blunt.
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The smart thing to do would be to stop answering, but that would be letting Aleksander win. The Darkling. Letting the Darkling win.
(Win what?)]
An improvement from all our prior encounters, really.
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Interesting.
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Though Alina is still a mystery. How does that work?
Actually, don’t bother. She already told me.
Or showed me, rather.
Should we instead have a conversation about how we fuck all the same women?
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Sneaking quietly, treacherously through the back of his thoughts: Alina slipping out of the house one late summer evening not long after the Darkling's arrival in this world, evasive in her purpose, but he trusted her. He trusts her. He doesn't need to know who she's texting; they have so many of the same friends here.
The Darkling doesn't enter their conversation often, but what does that quiet mean? What do you think he's up to? she might say. And him, Crying into a bowl of soup, I hope.
This is what he does, Nikolai reminds himself with a staying breath. He manipulates and divides.]
Was this also in the dreams you claim not to have?
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The aforementioned lonely visits.
( tempting, to rub their tethered bond in his nose. to speak of all the ways he knows alina, that nikolai will never compare to — and yet. doesn’t it feel sacred to him? one precious glimmer of untouched soil, his pretty little bond, to visit alina whenever he pleases. whenever she pleases too, so wayward is her heart. )
Don’t be hard on yourself.
Besides.
It’s the dreams I’m not privy to that garner my interest.
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But for just a moment, a stab of doubt lances his heart. Just as quickly, he brushes it aside. Alina knows better than to fall for the Darkling's traps again.]
Perhaps it would bother me too, if I didn't know you also lie with every breath you take.
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