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criminalamnesia · 1 year

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Dancing With Our Hands Tied

summary: Nikolai confronts you about unspoken feelings.

warnings: fluff, no use of y/n, not proofread, no gendered pronouns used (that I know of), grisha!heartrender!reader

author’s note: dancing with our hands tied by taylor swift inspired this! also listen I love zoya and nikolai but nikolai is just sooooooo ksjfjsjs I wanted to write a reader insert for him.

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What you had with your captain was something no one understood– not even the two of you.

Sturmhond– or Nikolai, as you knew him in secret– was your friend. Your captain. But he was also something more.

He was a rogue ship, and you were a lighthouse guiding him home. He was a dangerous sea, threatening to drown you if you tested your luck– and oh, how you were so close to seeing what would happen if you did.

You shouldn’t even know his true identity. But, as fate would have it, he needed a heartrender with a specific set of skills that you just happened to have, and you needed an escape.

You were his tailor– disguising his appearance and turning him into the infamous Sturmhond. That was the only reason you were allowed to see him without his mask– you were the one to put it back together.

“You’re not surprised?” He had asked you the first night your services had been requested.

The ginger hair of Sturmhond had faded. The crooked nose had straightened, but the same smug grin was still present.

“No,” you had said. “I know that heartbeat. I knew it was you a mile from your ship.”

That took him aback. How did you know his heartbeat?

You had laughed, your eyes twinkling with something he found mesmerizing. He didn’t know you– he was sure of it. He wouldn’t forget a face like yours.

One of your hands was on his shoulder, holding him still. The other roamed his face, fingers dancing across his skin as you worked.

“You’re staring,” you stated, your fingers moving to his messy blond hair. “Trying to figure out how I know you?”

“Yes,” he admitted, eyes watching your face intently. “Were you at the Little Palace?”

You nodded. “I was.” The blond of his hair started to turn red. “But I spent most of my time in the Grand Palace.” You paused, your hand leaving his shoulder to move to his chin, tilting his head to the side. You could hear his heart beat a tad bit faster.

“The Darkling gave me to your mother, as he did with Genya. I was her apprentice. She taught me how to tailor.” You told him.

“I didn’t suffer the same fate she did, if that’s what you’re wondering. Your father had eyes for her, not me.” You couldn’t help the bitterness in your voice. Nikolai flinched.

“You were rarely home– but I met you once, when we were both still small. That’s why I know your heartbeat. The only one of the Royal Family to have a good heart– not a sour one. It stuck with me, I guess you could say.”

“I don’t remember you,” he admitted, and you gave a small laugh. His blond hair was almost completely red now.

“I wouldn’t expect you to. You’re not the only one being tailored, Captain. The First Army can’t take me back if they don’t recognize me, now can they?”

“Are you listening?”

Nikolai’s voice broke you from your thoughts. He was sitting on the bed in his quarters on the ship. You stood between his knees, your hands on his face as you changed him back into Sturmhond.

“Mhm,” you hummed. You weren’t. This routine was something you could do in your sleep, and truthfully, you found your mind drifting off more and more whenever Nikolai required your assistance. It’s not that you found his company dull– quite the opposite, actually. But you didn’t want him to know that.

“No you weren’t,” he gave a small chuckle, one of his hands moving up to grab one of yours. He pulled it from his face as he intertwined your fingers.

“Nikolai,” you hissed, pulling your hand from his grasp. “Do you want me to mess up? I was in the middle of reforming your nose.”

He sighed, his hand falling back to his lap as you raised yours once more. You avoided his eyes, knowing you wouldn’t like what you saw in them.

Between the two of you, he was the more open with his feelings. For the past few weeks, he had continuously tried to corner you and get you to talk about whatever the two of you were. To try and figure things out. You had successfully avoided him thus far, but you knew you were dancing on thin ice.

It was only a matter of time before he recruited one of the twins to subdue you while he forced you to listen. You wouldn’t put it past him, and you knew for a fact Tolya would help him. Curse that hopeless romantic.

“You’re insufferable. And exhausting,” he told you as you grasped his chin gently between your fingers, turning his face this way and that to examine your handiwork.

“I know. You tell me quite often,” you remarked, nodding to yourself as you moved to focus your sights on his hair.

He sighed. Silence engulfed the two of you. It was almost smothering, full of unsaid words and the tension between the two of you. You were suddenly aware of how close you were to him– his knees caging you in as you stood between his spread legs. His face in your hands, his hands now on your waist.

“We keep dancing around this,” he said. You didn’t reply, choosing to focus more intently on the roots of his hair. “The whole crew thinks we’re sleeping together.”

That caught you off guard. You gave a snort, rolling your eyes. “Of course they do. You call me to your quarters in the night, every week. You always stare at me, especially when you think I’m not looking. And you’re handsy– you’ve always got a hand on my back or my shoulder or something.”

Nikolai chuckled. “Well, you’re one to talk. Every time you laugh at something I’ve said, you grab onto my arm and go ‘oh Sturmhond!’. And don’t act like you don’t stare, too.”

“I do not say ‘oh Sturmhond’,” you said, looking down at him. He grinned that same crooked smile.

“I know you’re thinking it. Probably thinking some other things, too. Like how you’d like to–”

“Shut up, or I’m going to give you a black eye.” You hissed, pulling his hair harder than you should’ve.

He laughed. “You wouldn’t. You like my face too much.”

“Im sick of it, actually,” you remarked. “I see it everyday.”

“If that were true, you wouldn’t be here.” He replied.

“You say that as if you’d let me leave. I’m the only tailor you’ve got.”

He shook his head. “That’s not the reason I wouldn’t let you leave, and we both know it.”

You dropped your hands as the last of his blond turned red. Your job here was done. There was nothing stopping you from bidding him goodnight and excusing yourself to your own cot. You knew he would drop it and let you go without another word, but you couldn’t bring yourself to say anything. You didn’t want to say anything.

“So now you’re keeping me prisoner?” You said, suddenly all too aware of his hands squeezing your waist.

“Maybe I am. At least until you admit you like me,” he said, and you scoffed.

“If I didn’t like you, I wouldn’t be here–” you began, but he cut you off.

“That’s not what I mean and you know it.”

He moved to stand. You tried to step back, but his hands on you kept you rooted to the spot. You looked up at him, heat rising to your cheeks. Your chests were touching now, and there were only inches between your lips and his.

“When are we going to stop playing this game?” He whispered, one of his hands moving from your waist to brush a strand of hair from your face.

“You like it too much to stop.” You retorted.

“I’d like honesty more,” he said, and you shook your head. “As much fun as playing cat and mouse is with you, I’m growing tired of chasing. And we both know you’re tired of running.”

His hands were on your hips as he swung you around the deck, a laugh on his lips as you clung to his shoulders. You couldn’t help but smile as he dipped you, your eyes meeting his. There were unspoken promises in his gaze– too many feelings, and you had to look away.

Others danced around you two as a few of the crew played some song you’d never heard on makeshift instruments. Laughter and conversation made it hard to think straight. Spirits were high– you’d all just succeeded in breaking through a Fjerdan blockade– and that called for a celebration.

“They’re all going to think we’re together,” you had told Nikolai as he grabbed your hand and pulled you to the dance floor. He had laughed, leaning in close to whisper “let them” in your ear.

He had kissed you for the first time that night, after the party had subsided and everyone was asleep but the two of you. You had been talking quietly, watching the stars and listening to the waves, and he had kissed you and you had melted.

“Nikolai..” you sighed, your hands moving to rest on his shoulders. “This isn’t a good idea.”

“I don’t care,” he told you, and his heartbeat was as steady as it had ever been.

“I do,” you told him, meeting his gaze. “You can’t play pirate forever. What happens when you go back to Ravka, back to your family? You can’t marry me. I’m nobody– not a princess, not a diplomat. I’m an escaped servant who knows too much and would be imprisoned or executed for escaping.”

“Privateer,” he corrected, and you rolled your eyes. “And I’m the second son– a bastard second son. I’m already a disgrace in their eyes,” one of his hands moved to the small of your back, his thumb rubbing circles into the fabric of your shirt. “I can’t disappoint them any more than I have.”

“It doesn’t matter what they think of you now, they still won’t let me anywhere near you.” You replied, and he shook his head.

“Why are we even talking about this?” He asked. “We’re not in Ravka. We’re in the middle of the ocean, and no one cares what we do.”

He was right. You were far from Ravka and his family and your pasts. You were someone new, and he was, too. You weren’t an escaped servant– you were Sturmhond’s first mate. You were his most trusted friend– besides the twins– and you were the one he wanted.

And you wanted him, too.

“I don’t care about details,” he said, his voice low. “I don’t care about families or consequences or rumors. I care about you, about that little smile you always get before you win at cards, about how you let me drag you onto the dance floor while the crew stares, and how you put up with me more than you should.”

You didn’t say anything, too stunned for words.

“I would do anything,” he began, his face slowly inching towards yours. “To dance with you again. To kiss you again. To not hide behind stolen glances and little jabs at each other.”

“Nikolai,” you murmured, your eyes flitting down to his lips.

“Yes?” He asked as your eyes found his once more.

“Just shut up.” You said, and you closed the gap between the two of you, your lips meeting his.

Maybe nothing he said would be true in the morning. Maybe he would realize this was all a big mistake, but you didn’t care.

He was right. You were tired of running, and you were so glad he was tired of chasing.

And as you kissed, that heartbeat that you’d remembered after all these years– that you’d always remember– soared.

And you knew he wasn’t lying.

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averagewriter-inthedark · 4 months

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Eye of The Storm ⛈| Six of Crows Imagine

Takes place during the events of Shadow & Bone S2

My Masterlists

Characters & Pairings: Crows x Squaller/Saint!Reader (platonic), Kaz Brekker x reader (slight/eventual)

Content Warnings: fighting, blood, profanity, cannon divergence | female!reader (she/her) | wc: 4.9k

Requested 📨: yes/no

Premise: As the Crows make their way back to the Slate following their climatic dethronement of Pekka Rollins, they are ambushed by his supporters with no plan of action to escape. As they slowly accept their fate, what was once a clear night is rained upon with lightning and thunder in its wake. Having beat the odds of meeting one living Saint in their lifetime, the Crows are stunned when their savior, a player in the ever unfolding drama in Ravka, is the legend in stories of restoring life in the world when all hope was lost.

Note: although the Saint name I give is not Y/n, it’s still a reader insert and explains more at the end (it’s not an OC) also I know Zoya is called Sankta Zoya of the Storm but I have yet to get to her arc so for this the reader has powers equivalent to her

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The sirens had finally seized, concluding the hysteria in the streets of Ketterdam once it was revealed the Firebox outbreak was a hoax. Constructed by none other than the Bastard of the Barrel and his thieves amongst men, the Crows. After years of heated tension, and guided vengeance, against Pekka Rollins, Kaz Brekker succeeded in his plans of putting down the Lion that had ruined his life. Constant mental torture as he manuevered his players on their chestboard now able to rest.

“Where were you?” His voice was raspy, face still painted with his blood from the beating as he addressed Inej when she appeared from the shadows. They had been making their way back to the Slat. Nina, Wylan, and Jesper were flanked beside him, the dimly lit street light shining down on the group. Inej had been the only one not accounted for, flooding Kaz with anxiety mixed with anger that she strayed from the plan.

“I--.”

A gloved hand came up, stopping her. “Actually, I’d rather not hear what you have to say.” he wanted to shout. Reprimand her for being so foolish. Voice how her actions could’ve gotten her or one of them hurt because they had no idea where she was.

Despite these desires, the pain in Kaz’s body was too much and he was in need of a strong drink. Inej narrowed her eyes, but the man brushed past her leaving the others to send her looks of sympathy. Falling in step, the group followed behind Kaz, making note of how empty the streets were at that time of night. It was eerie. Yeah they may have caused an uproar with their little stunt, but they assumed there’d still be people out and about.

Dance halls and clubs are empty. The markets closed for business. Not a soul in sight. Wylan was the first to speak, “I’ve never seen it this quiet.”

“Very odd if I must say,” Jesper agreed, unconsciously letting his hands fall to where his guns strapped to his belt. His intuition was picking at his brain at the feeling that something wasn’t right.

“Wouldn’t be surprised if someone’s plotting now that Pekka is gone,” Inej made note of their surroundings. They were only a block from the Slat. Soon they’d be in the comfort of their home, able to bask in the relief they pulled their task off. A warm cup of tea by the fireplace before it came time for bed. Inej was looking forward to it.

But unfortunately, fate had other plans.

Nina suddenly froze, “Stop,” all movement seized, heads turning to the heartrender. Unease consumed them as they took in the sudden paleness of her appearance. “I hear heartbeats.” There was a subtle gulp, the woman adding in a low tone, “a lot of heartbeats.”

Tensing, they were met with the sounds of footsteps approaching from every angle. Inej pulled out her knives, as did Jesper with his guns. Wylan clutched his satchel to his chest, thinking of what he could use to help them out of this situation, though the odds were not looking good. Meanwhile, Kaz reversed his steps while the others spun around, the Crows forming a circle with their backs to one another, Kaz keeping space between him and Jesper. Allowing them a full view of the square.

They watched the herd of men step into the light. Revealing themselves with menacing eyes filled with vengeance. Kaz tensed, recognizing them as Pekka’s men.

Well the ones still loyal to the King of the Barrel. Several had already pledged their support to Kaz or took the chance to ditch town while they had the opportunity. Yet, here was a group of at least twelve, likely part of Pekka’s inner circle who’ve taken the actions of Kaz more personally. Those who refused to kneel. The young criminal should’ve known better than to expect a sudden shift in power would come easily to him.

“We have no business with you, gentlemen,” Kaz spoke with a level of calm that surprised even him. Deep down he was consumed with nerves seeing he and the Crows were severely outnumbered.

“Oh, but we do,” a gruff voice replied. Kaz’s eyes drifted to the owner, who’s hand mavuevered over his gun. “See, some of us are not too pleased with your little show tonight, Brekker. And we’ll be damned before claiming you as the King of the city.”

Jesper tilts his head slightly, whispering under his breath, “What do we do, boss?” Beside him Wylan was visibly freaking out. Nina raised her hands, ready to counter any attacks while Inej tightened the grip of her knives.

“This is it,” Kaz thought, clutching onto his cane. No ideas surfaced to help them escape. Accepting his time was up. Though he was going to fight for his Crows, the Bastard of the Barrel was ready to come to terms with his fate.

But before anyone could make the first room, a crack of lightning followed by its booming thunder shook the ground. Several flinched, including the crows, some of the Dime Lions stumbling by how close and sudden the element was to them. Rainfall began to pour down the once clear sky. Dark clouds covering the stars and skies.

The rain was thick, drenching everyone from head to toe. Their clothes became heavy. Had it not been for the skewing of their visibility, making them struggle to see where they were, they’d be annoyed by their state. But there were more important things at stake.

The storm made it hard to see. Only getting a glimpse of shapes and figures when flashes of lightning in the near distance hit the earth. Coupled with its thunder. Kaz barely could make out the enemy, bringing his cane up for any sudden attacks.

“What’s happening?” Wylan shouted, gurgling when the water hit mouth. “What do we do?”

“I-I--,” Kaz stuttered, the feeling of nausea swarming him at the cold, wet, rain hitting his face. It brought him back to the worst days of his life. Floating on top of cold, wet, bodies in the harbour, begging the Saints to save him. The man wanted to crawl away and hide. Yet the fear of not knowing what waited for them when the rain stopped kept him from falling to his knees in a panic.

“Hey! You there!” the same man from before shouted, Kaz squinting his eyes to see him raise his gun only to be thrown back by an invisible force of wind. His partner beside him went down next, though what hit him appeared to be a beam of light.

Kinda like a lightning bolt.

“What the hell was that?!” Inej shouted over the thunder.

‘A Squaller?’ Kaz thought to himself, watching another bout of wind sweep his oncoming attacker off their feet. He had not heard of another Grisha roaming the streets of Ketterdam. Surely if a squaller were inhabiting the area he’d know.

Using the butt of his cane Kaz knocked him out unconsious. When he glanced back up, his eyes landed on a cloaked figure standing on the roof of a nearby building. The rain made it impossible to make out their face. But judging by the way they moved their hands, and the fact his enemies were being bombarded by gusts of air, their savior was in fact an Ethereaki.

But what kind exactly?

At first Kaz believed they had to be a Squaller due to the wind. Yet, he then witnessed the rain shift direction, and water from a puddle shoot up to hit a man about to attack Wylan. A Tidemaker would better fit that description, however Kaz wasn’t aware of a Grisha able to control both air and water.

“I don’t know,” Jesper responded, shooting at an assailant he saw racing toward them, “But I’ve never been so happy for a thunderstorm as I am now.” At that moment Kaz realized nobody else noticed the mysterious person on the roof. His attention turned to Jesper beside him, oblivious to the help he was getting from a fellow Grisha. Turning back to the roof, expecting to see the cloaked individual, but they were gone.

As the fight commenced the storm ensued. Thunder overpowering the sound of pelting rain and gunshots. The Crows fought for their lives as the number of Dime Lions against them decreased. Nina managed to incapacitate several as did Jesper and Inej. The fight came to a climatic end with the last one standing was, quite, literally, hit with a lightning bolt causing the Crows to freeze where they stood.

Smoke filled the space, and when it cleared they were met with the mysterious being. Rain pelting down on them, however they seemed to pay no mind. As though it were a natural occurrence. It was still hard to see them. The streetlight candles had been blown out from the rain and wind, and the moon was covered by the clouds. Both those combinations obscured the face of their savior.

Nina raised her hands, ready to defend the group but Kaz motioned for her to stop, causing confusion amongst the rest. Who was this person and what did they want? And why was Kaz not doing anything?

“Well,” their voice, a feminine one at that, breached the once silent square. “That was entertaining if I’m being honest. Been a while since I’ve squabbled with angsty men,” she chucked, “but I was in dire need of practice.” Now hearing the woman speak clearly, they were able to identify her Ravkan accent. For Nina, her heart nearly stopped.

“I know that voice.” she felt the eyes of everyone, including the woman, on her. Hands lowering to her side, Nina's face etched into pure astonishment. Adding more confusion to the group who were at a loss of who this woman was.

“Oh!” The woman chuckled, not commenting on Nina’s words, “Apologies for the storm, let me just--,” they watched in stunned silence as her right hand rose, displaying a motion before the rain slowed and stopped altogether. Then with two fingers, she waved them around causing the clouds above to dissaperate, allowing the moon to shine down.

“Did she just--.” Jesper whispered to Inej, who’s expression resembled that of witnessing a miracle. “Can squallers summon thunderstorms? I thought that was a myth.”

Inej blinked rapidly, voice so low the others barely made out her reply. Tone in absolute awe, “Only one can.”

“One?” Kaz repeated, feeling a wave of unease beneath his skin.

Water from puddles splashed as the woman walked forward, stepping into the ray of light. The Crows, now able to see her fully, were greeted with her (y/h/c) hair and bearing dazzling grey eyes like the storm clouds she’d summoned. She appeared to be slightly older than the group, possibly by a few years. Then again Grisha were known to age slower than regular folk. For all they know she could be in her 50s. Look at the Darkling, who passed as a man in his early 40s to the naked eye but had lived for nearly 400 years.

Adorned in a deep grey kefta, the white and blue embroidery etched on resembled lightning bolts along with tiny drops of rain. It was unlike any kefta the Grisha wore. Those in the Ravka’s Second Army, with the exception of the Darkling, wore certain colored keftas and embroideries to signify their order. But to the knowledge of the Crows, no Grisha wore grey.

“Saints,” Nina gasped, jaw dropping slightly, causing the woman to smirk.

“Now, now,” she playfully tsked, “I’m not above swearing, but considering that applies to me….” her smirk never faltered, “I’m sure you can understand.”

Jesper’s head spun, looking between his comrades to see they were reacting the same way, “I’m sorry, are you saying that you’re--.”

Nina beat him to it, “Sankta Imber of the Drought.” Inej gasped, as did Wylan. The former repeated the name in wonder, falling to her knees in respect, “Sankta Imber….”

Kaz tightened his grip on his cane, mind racing to remember the tale behind the name. Who’s story was passed down from generation to generation for centuries. Who, like the Darkling and the Sun Summoner, was said to be either myth or once lived but suspected of perishing long ago.

Legends say that Sankta Imber of the Drought had been born in the century following the creation of the Fold. A farmer's daughter in the region of East Ravka, her family lived through the period where the country was stricken with a severe drought lasting over a hundred years, beginning not long after the Black Heretic disappeared. With no rain bringing water to the crops came a deadly famine. Hundreds of people and animals were lost, not only due to starvation and dehydration, but also illness. The economy in all of Ravka crumbled. Both States were fighting against each other for resources, as the food supply from East Ravka to West was now scarce. An increase in fires and dust bowls destroyed a lot of ecosystems, further deteriorating the country.

What was left of it that is.

There was little to no hope, with even prayers to the Saints to help them becoming meaningless words. Those still worshiping begged for a savior. The one who would bring the rain and storm. Ending the drought. Releasing them from the famine.

The idea a Squaller could summon a powerful storm was unheard of. Being able to bring forth powerful winds, rain, and possibly lightning and Thunder? Surely a Grisha of sorts would be only known by folklore. Especially given Tidemakers were the ones to control water.

Yet, it all changed one day as the 104th year of the drought approached.

“You’re more powerful than you think, Imber,” Baghra's stern voice echoed in the cave. Sitting opposite of her, with her head down and tear stains painting her cheeks, 15-year-old Imber Egorova made a sound Baghra could only assume was a whimper. “Denying it will do you no good. It will do this country no good.”

“How do you know?” The girl whispered, voice hoarse from crying following another gruesome 12 hour training day. “What makes me different from any other Squaller here?” She referred to the 20 other Squallers residing on the Little Palace grounds. Though some trained with the renowned Gisha teacher, none experienced the level of intensity Imber did.

“No Squaller here has shot someone 80 yards by their power during an exercise,” Baghra rebutted, causing Imber to wince at the memory. The reason why she was suddenly called to Baghra’s cave in the first place. From then on Imber barely got a lick of sleep or time to eat a proper meal.

The older woman gave a pointed look, “nor have they been able to summon electricity.” Ignoring Imbers stunned expression, she continued, “yes, girl, I know what you did when your sister’s heart stopped before you came here. Why your family was so willing to let you go after the testers proved you were Grisha,” Baghra leaned back in her chair, face void of emotion. “Ravka has not seen more than a few inches of rain since this drought began. No storms. And with the famine,” there was a light pause, “It’s claimed more lives than the Fold.”

Imber shuddered at the mention of Ravka’s darkened entity. Not wanting to think about its black abyss swimming with volcra.

“The point is, child,” Baghra captured her attention once more, “Besides the Sun Summoner, you could be the one to end part of Ravka’s suffering. But that will not happen if you cannot believe it yourself.”

Weeks shy of her 16th birthday, Imber received a letter from her father, which would change not only her world, but the one around. After contracting a bacteria from contaminated pond water, her mother and sister succumbed to a deadly illness after only a week. Her father had buried them on their land by the dead oak tree where they used to have picnics before Imber was taken to the Little Palace.

Distraught and riddled with unbearable pain, Imber collapsed to her knees in the middle of the courtyard, crumbling the letter in her hands. Her peers were silent, staring at her with sympathy. Unsure of what to say to the grieving teen, despite many knowing the exact feeling Imber was feeling.

Sorrow, anguish, regret. Never having the chance to correct wrongs or make memories with the loved onces they longed for. The cries of the Grisha filled the otherwise silent courtyard.

Suddenly, a rumble came from the sky..

Imber didn’t hear it over the sound of her sobs. Her companions, however, drew their attention upward, where they were greeted by a sight unimaginable. What once was a clear blue canvas, barely any clouds to begin with, transformed to that of a dark shadow. Wind, so powerful they thought a Squaller was responsible, nearly sent them off their feet.

“What’s happening?” A girl shouted, though they had difficulty hearing her due to the mix of rumbling overhead and breeze of wind.

“I don’t know!” the boy, a Tidemaker, beside her squinted, “Imber!” He lifted a hand to protect his eyes while focusing his view on the kneeled Grisha. A flash of light where her hands were plaed on the ground had him flinching. ‘What in the---.’ The spark occured once more. Chills filled his entire being as his eyes became saucers, falling to a whisper. “Saints above.”

Witnessing the sparks, an Inferni moved closer, ignoring the warning sent by the Tidemaker. “What is she doing?” His answer came by being blasted back by a gust of wind.

Imber let out a broken scream, head tilting back toward the sky as bolts of lightning released from her hands, igniting bouts of thunder in its wake. Gasps and shouts echoed around the Squaller from fellow Grisha and palace guards. The group behind her ran to find cover as the wind became too much, sending barrels and crates flying. Lightning and thunder, the duo reuniting as lost friends.

A sight to behold.

As the tears rolled down Imber’s cheeks, heavy rain soon replaced them. Drenching the lands of East Ravka for the first time in a hundred years.

For hours the girl remained kneeling on the grounds of the courtyard. Alone as everyone had seeked shelter within the Palace walls, letting the water from above coat her. The kefta she bore grew heavy. She paid no mind to it.

It wasn’t until she began to shiver from the freezing atmosphere that Imber retreated inside. Coming face to face with the reality of what transpired. As two guards escorted her to the throne room, Imber barely took notice of her peers watching the storm draw on from the windowsills. Some glanced at her in a mix of wonder, awe, and fear. Fear at the unknown, but wonder at what will be known.

Entering the throne room Imber was greeted by the King, Queen, Baghra, and the General of Ravka’s Second Army. Whereas the country’s monarchs were visibily bewildered at Imber, Baghra appeared impressed in comparison to the General’s excitement. Nerves consumed her on top of the immense grief Imber was experincing. Rain continued pelting the windows and roof of the Little Palace. Every once in a while, the occupants in the room flinched at the crack of thunder.

Upon making eye contact with the King, Imber bowed her head, curtseying as best she could with the weight of her soaked kefta. From there she underwent an hour of intense interrogation at the hands of the King and General. Baghra was questioned as well. Admitting she suspected the scale of Imber’s power but decided to stay quiet until the time came. The General, while pleased to know the world’s most powerful Squaller was among his ranks, voiced concern at the possibility of their enemies discovering her.

“Ravka has been praying for the day storms finally wash over her,” his tone was calm, almost haunting. Imber couldn’t look away as he moved toward her, tear stains painting her cheeks. “To save them from this wretching drought. Bring an end to this famine that has wiped away countless lives. Rain has touched grounds for the first time in over a century, Miss. Egorova. The people of Ravka are going to celebrate you. Erect statues on your name for being the hope they prayed for all these years.” he halted directly in front of her, keeping hold of her gaze it sent another wave of chills not relating to the cold clothes Imber wore.

“You are now the symbol of this dark period coming to its end. You are Sankta Imber of the Drought.”

“The storm lasted a fortnight, dispersing across Ravka’s lands until every inch had been touched by lightning. Yet the rain continued for months on end after the winds disappeared,” Nina recited the story etched into her brain. The crows silent as they took in her words. “Many say it was the raw grief of Imber losing her family that the storms were so strong. The constant rain marked as a symbol of her time in mourning.” The crows familiar with loss could relate. Kaz, Jesper, and Inej looking elsewhere than the Grisha.

Nina let out a breath, “Now whenever a powerful storm appears in Ravka, locals believe it to be Sankta Imber reminding them they will never experience a drought again. Famine will never touch their lands so long as she remains. Rain will be their protector, and she will be its champion.”

At the end of the Heartrender’s tale, Imber clasped her hands behind her back. “Nice to see my reputation still precedes me after all these years.” Chuckling, she took another step toward the group, “Still odd to hear myself spoken like a myth when I still live and breathe the same air as you.”

Again, no words could describe what the Crows were feeling at that moment. No one however was more shocked than Nina herself. And her reasons were far more than just being in the presence of a living Saint. “But you…”

Imber’s smirk turned to a soft smile, “Been some time since our last acquaintance, Nina Zenik.”

All eyes turned to the brunette, Kaz the first to speak, “What?” Not only was his mind racing, but now it was full of questions and doubts. They knew each other? But judging by Nina’s reaction, it was not all that meets the eye. She was stunned beyond belief like they were. “Care to explain, Zenik?”

Tensing by the tone of his voice, Nina sent him a light glare, “I don’t know her as Sankta Imber,” her eyes returned to the Grisha, this time showcasing betrayal as the memory of the woman in a blue kefta like her fellow Squallers appeared in her mind. “But as Commander Y/n Tempestasov of the Second Army.” Everyone felt the shift in the air at the mention of the Darkling’s army.

Why was one of the Darkling’s soldiers, a Saint at that, coming to them in the middle of the night? Traveling across the sea and saving them from Pekka’s men. There had to be a reason.

Kaz tightened the grip he had on his cane. Thinking back to events of the past several months. He would’ve recognized Imber, or Y/n, whatever she wanted to be called--at the Winter’s Fete. The kefta was unique; it would've captured anyone’s attention. As a powerful Squaller, Kirigan surely wanted her close to his side. Yet the Grisha had not been present on the skiff nor did Alina mention anything of meeting another living Saint.

Then there was the fact that the legends of Sankta Imber of the Drought were from nearly 300 years ago. It was believed she had died or dissapeared roughtly 20 years after she brought the storm to Ravka.

Meaning she’s been hiding in plain sight for centuries. A ghost among the living. Playing the role of a Second Army soldier under a false name to preserve her identity.

Another chuckle brought Kaz out of his thoughts, “Allow me to fill in the blanks, Crows,” Imber smirked at their reaction, “yes I know who you are. Do not doubt Nina’s loyalty--the last time we saw each other I was a different person. Roughly eight years if I’m correct,” bringing a hand to her chin, the Saint acted like she was deep in thought, “You’d only just arrived at the Little Palace before I escaped.”

“Escaped?”

Imber retained her posture, more serious than the initial laid back she had presented, “You’ve witnessed the evil General Kirigan is capabale of first hand.” they stayed silent, but each of their expressions faltered. “I discovered the scale of it a long time ago, after he made me a prisoner of the Little Palace under the guise of a trainer.” Nina bowed her head, the memory of Commander Y/n paroling the grounds where the Etherealki trained. She always appeared detached, but was kind to the young Grisha who had not yet succumbed to the corruption of the Darkling. “He was responsible for everyone believing I had died or dissapeared. After instilling fear in me at the thought of being captured by enemies, he had me locked in the caves of the Little Palace.” Inej let out a gasp, face consorting with sadness.

Imber shrugged, “sooner or later people stopped searching for me. Unaware I was close the entire time despire my storms becoming a blanket over Ravka for years. I was all but the myth you’ve heard.” Turning her head to Nina, Imber offered a soft smile, “It was years before he let me out. When he did I was named Commander under a false name and trained Grisha for centuries. Changing my name each time he did because someone asked too many questions and we had to clean up his mess. Y/n Tempestasov is the recent name of the many I’ve gone by. Frankly it’s my favorite if I’m being honest.”

“Would you prefer it if we called you that?” Wylan raised his hand, resulting in a side eye from Kaz at his formality. The Saint, however, smiled at him, “I’d like that. Imber Egorova…” she trailed off, connecting her gaze with Kaz as though she read him like a book. “She is of the past.”

Ignoring the weight on his chest, knowing damn well what the Saint was refering to, Kaz changed the subject. “Enough sentiment. You still haven’t said why you’re here.” The sound of his cane echoed on the pavement when he moved closer to her. “The Darkling might be dead but how are we to trust you’re not doing his bidding.”

The woman scoffed, obviously offended by the assumption, “Believe me, I hate the man more than anyone. Probably more than you and Alina combined.”

Jesper made a face of shock, voicing what they all thought, “You know Alina?”

“She sent me,” Y/n mused, shocking them more when she added, “And Kirigan is alive.”

“How is that possible?” Inej wondered aloud, unable to grasp the news.

“Turns out his own creation did not kill him after all. Instead he used merzost to create shadow monsters. Monsters that can only be destroyed with a certain blade that, like me, is also a legend.”

“Neshyenyer,” Kaz narrowed his eyes, waiting for her to call bluff. Y/n smirked in response.

“That is where you come in. We have some mutual friends, and they sent me to retrieve you lot to find the sword. Said you were the best of the best.” Hand going into her pocket, she removes a rolled parchment tied with a ribbon. “For your cooperation, the King of Ravka plans to generously compensate you.” She held it out to Kaz, “For you, Dirtyhands.”

He ignored the name, deciding not to question the depth of her knowledge on him and the Crows, and instead took the parchment. Once unfolded, he read the message inked onto its surface, detailing the extent of the mission and amount of kruge to be paid. He stopped at the name signed at the very end, ‘Nikolai Lantsov.’

‘Mutual friends,’ he remembered she said. Intuition telling him it was not only Alina and Mal the Saint referred to. Only person Kaz recalled that could likely be said aquaintance was a certain privateer.

Footsteps wandering away had the man look up, finding Y/n to take her leave. Kaz and Jesper flanked to his sides, the whole group watching her depart. “Come along, Crows,” she called out, the playfulness returning. “A storm is approaching.” light rain began to fall once more, followed by the sound of thunder in the distance. Kaz pictured the smile on her face by the tone of her voice. “And we’ve got work to do.”

#kaz brekker #kaz brekker imagine #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker x fem!reader #inej ghafa #inej ghafa x reader #inej ghafa imagine #jesper fahey #jesper fahey imagine #nina zenik #nina zenik imagine #six of crows #SOC #six of crows imagine #grishaverse #grisha!reader #Saint!reader #grishaverse fanfic

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starstruckwillows · 1 year

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♡ made you look - w.v.e ♡

requested by @shinedreamsmile07 <3

wylan van eck x male!grisha!reader, fluff, mild crooked kingdom spoiler, this is short

playing “dress up” for a heist

the whiskey storage of the slat had turned into a diy changing room, full of ridiculous clothes, assorted weaponry, rows of makeup. products, and a few keftas.

you and nina exchanged glances at them.

“have you worn one since...”

“abandoning my war-struck country for a drüskelle? no. i have not.”

but the heist required it. as grisha, you would have better access to the prohibited areas of the dinner party, under the guise of indentures to the hosts.

jesper was needed elsewhere, so it would just be you two donning the cloaks you’d come to fear.

but the fear was apparently misplaced, as you did up the buttons and ignored the shake in your hands.

leaving nina to change, you ascended the stairs to kaz’s office, where you were all required to meet for a final debrief.

the days of unorganized chaos and last minute details are long behind.

sort of. well, there was an office. that was new.

kaz sat at his desk, leaning on his cane with a brooding expression as he shifted schematics before him. always working.

only inej was already present, twirling a knife from where she crouched on the window sill. her clothes remained the standard slim black, letting her disappear at will.

“nina is almost ready.” you vaguely informed the room, taking a random seat in the corner that someone had set out. probably not kaz.

the door opened suddenly.

“the chemicals at the site are set and ready to go, i’ve given matthias his kit, and here is the emergency back-up. you- you know how to use it.”

kaz nodded, “yes, wylan, put it on the desk.”

your fluffy-haired boyfriend obliged, stacking two cases full of clattering vials to the side of kaz’s growing file pile.

it was then he turned to see you, lips parting slightly and fidgeting hands freezing in place. you smiled and gave a half wave, breaking him from his trance.

with less than a conscious decision, wylan found his legs carrying him over to sit with you, ignoring inej’s quiet grin which she diverted to the window panel.

you were used to wylan’s kind, if slightly quiet nature. you were not so used to the look he regarded you with now, sitting next to you with an easy arm around your shoulder, while you were the one trying not to flush for a change.

when nina and matthias entered, she kissed the tall man on the cheek, and you distinctly heard kaz mutter to inej, “everyone’s lost their minds.”

she tutted at him.

“alright, everyone here.” he called, once jesper had arrived. the six of you crowded around his desk as he stood, pressing on his cane and using the crow head to point out places he’d marked of the building plans.

the whole time, wylan’s arm didn’t leave your waist, occasionally running circles with his thumb. he was close enough for you to smell gunpowder and soot and the cologne jesper stole a crate of from the market last week.

close enough to send a flush up your spine that you steadily ignored.

“i like the kefta!” nina teased, the two of you sat at the dinner party, waiting on wylan’s smoke signal.

“shut up.” you grumbled, drumming your fingers on the table.

“he didn’t tell me he liked my kefta.” she jabbed you.

you rolled your eyes, “well, you’re not his boyfriend, are you?”

she crinkled her nose jokingly, “i should think not.”

“then stop being mean.” you flicked bubbly champagne at her.

she stuck her tongue out, “cheap shot. i’m not being mean, it’s just cute. even matthias thinks so, and you know what a grump he is.”

opting to ignore both the heartrender and the blood rushing to your cheeks that she could probably hear, you kept your gaze fixed on the spot where wylan was concealed, preparing to deposit the steam bomb.

“he’s still staring at you.”

you checked, before realizing neither of you were visible to the other, and cursed nina beneath your breath.

“made you look.”

taglist:

@anordinarymuse @ell0ra-br3kk3r @kingshitonly

#starstruckwillows #grishaverse #fluff #wylan van eck #grisha!reader #male!reader #wylan van eck x male!reader #wylan van eck x reader #wylan van eck x grisha!reader #wylan x reader #wylan x grisha!reader #wylan van eck fluff

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dhampiravidi · 8 months

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Chapters: 4/4 Fandom: Shadow and Bone (TV), The Grisha Trilogy - Leigh Bardugo Rating: Explicit Relationships: The Darkling | Aleksander Morozova/Original Female Character(s), The Darkling | Aleksander Morozova/Alina Starkov, Alina Starkov/Original Female Character(s)

Additional Tags: Mildly Dubious Consent, Cheating, Hate Sex, Revenge Sex, Crying, Tsar The Darkling | Aleksander Morozova, Married The Darkling | Aleksander Morozova/Original Female Character(s), Overstimulation, Oral Sex, Bisexual Alina Starkov, Facesitting, Sad Ending, Soft The Darkling | Aleksander Morozova, Shadow Summoners (The Grisha Trilogy), Bisexual Female Character, Snark, What Was I Thinking?, Tidemakers (Grishaverse)

Summary:

You catch your husband, the great Tsar of Ravka, Aleksander Morozova, in bed with the Sun Summoner. Then he announces his intention to divorce you. So you decide to get your revenge, the only way you know will hurt him.

This can be seen as a less-happy alternative to the universe presented in my other fic, Moi Soverenyi.

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pr-olvdr · 9 months

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reblog if you agree

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hopingforrainydays · 1 year

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birth of the bone-breaker | general kirigan

pairing: general kirigan x fem!reader

warnings: descriptions of blood and gore

word count: 2.3k

summary: soft times with the darkling as he comforts a traumatized grisha; in other words, a story in which a healer becomes something else and finds solace in the shadow summoner

author’s note: so so excited for shadow and bone season two. this one has been sitting in my drafts for a long time, and i’m happy to finally share it with y’all!

requests are open!

You were dragged through the palace gates at Os Alta, your limp form tugged forward--and held up--by the red-clad Grisha on either side of you. You barely registered their forceful motions, keeping your chin tucked into your chest. It was sodden with dirt, blood, and what could only be assumed to be some other form of bodily matter. But that wasn’t a bother. You barely registered that either.

It had been a long enough journey, but you had not fought the Grisha hauling you by horse, carriage, and on foot. You weren’t a fighter by nature, and even so, any of the adrenaline that flowed through your veins had ebbed away. Besides, you deserved whatever they had planned for you. The iron grip of the Corporalniks prevented any attempt of a struggle. The black detailing of their keftas marked them as Heartrenders; they could take the air from your lungs or crush your heart in a matter of moments.

But you could do the same, couldn’t you?

The shadow of the Little Palace loomed over you, and yet your gaze did not falter from its focus on your muddied feet. It was the only thing grounding you to this moment, no matter how you wished to glance upon the palace one last time. Once inside, you found small purchase on the smooth marble floors, the tips of your toes tripping at the quick pace set by your companions. A part you, deep inside, was apologetic of the mess you were bound to leave behind: muddy, bloodied footprints.

It wouldn’t be your first mess.

The First Army soldiers flanking the grounds had kept their hands on the trigger of their rifles and any Grisha that now flock through the halls followed your every movement, hands clasped in front of them. The dark forms of the oprichniki walked ahead, leading you to your doom. A strategic hold on your arms forced your hands to be kept apart.

You understood, in part, their caution. It still pained you. The presumption that the Grisha--your family--looked at you as though you were a monster clogged your eyes with tears.

Saints, you deserved whatever awaited you.

The Grisha soldiers brought you to the end of the hall. Ornate double-doors pushed open, and you were marched to the center of the large room. The bruising hold on your biceps ceased, causing you to fall to the ground in an ungraceful heap. You caught yourself against the ground, eyes trained on your bloodied fingertips. Your fingers folded into tight fists, the jagged edge of your fingernails cutting into your palms. You winced at the throbbing pain, but dug your fingertips further into the soft flesh. In the wild panic that rose in your throat, in the unsurety of the future, and in the potential meeting of your gruesome fate, you found that it was the one thing that reassured you.

“What is this?” The voice came from in front of you. It was cold and calculating, and one that you faintly recognized from your years spent training at the Little palace. General Kirigan.

“Forgive us, moi soverennyi. It’s a matter of grave importance,” said one of the Heartrenders. From what you could tell, they were stood not far behind you. Ready, in case you were to attack.

There was a shuffle of feet behind you. One of the Grisha, a Squaller, stepped forward. Her voice cracked as she said, “We were meant to deliver a few supplies to the Second Army regiment posted outside Chernast. When we arrived, they were–” she paused, taking in a shaky breath. She whispered, more to herself than anyone else, “Saints, they were all dead.”

“Except for them,” the other Heartrender spat. There was a sharp tug to your hair, yanking your head back. You let out a yelp, wild eyes meeting the cool stare of your general. “We found this one near the Fjerdan border, not far from the rest.”

“Release her.”

“General, you should know it was a massacre.”

“Release her.”

The hand in your hair released. Your head slumped forward, a throbbing pain forming at the back. General Kirigan stepped toward you, his finger reaching out to lift your chin. You flinched. He hesitated, the finger hanging in the air for a moment before retracting entirely. Instead, he crouched, his eyes now level with your own.

“What happened?” he asked, his voice softer now than when he spoke to his soldiers.

“Our best guess is drüskelle-”

“I wasn’t asking you,” the general snapped at the Heartrender. He turned his attention back to you, waiting patiently for your response.

You shook your head back and forth, frantic. The memories of the attack had plagued your mind throughout your journey from Chernast to Os Alta, but you were always quick to shove them away. You didn’t want to remember.

The general’s tongue darted out to wet his lips. His dark eyes roamed your indiscernible features, watching as your eyes darted to look at the Grisha beside you. With a frown, he rose to his feet.

“Leave us.”

One of the Corporalniks made a noise of disagreement, but with one look from their general, quieted. The remaining Grisha left the room in slow, hesitant movements, as if they thought General Kirigan would change his mind. With a final bow, the Squaller closed the door behind her.

There was a tense silence as you remained on the floor and the general leant back against the round table. You were afraid to move, though most of the stress in your muscles had eased at the near-isolation.

“Can you stand on your own?”

You didn’t respond.

“Are you injured? I’ll send for a Healer.”

“No,” you were quick to dismiss the idea. The voice that left you did not feel like your own; it was rough as sandpaper, and a lot louder than you intended. Noticing the general’s taken-aback-expression, you were quick to whisper an explanation. “The blood isn’t mine.”

With a sigh, he moved towards you. He reached his hand out in front of you, mindful to keep his movements slow and stay a respectful distance away. You eyed his hand before placing your palm into his own.

He turned it over, brushing his thumb over the deep crescent marks left by your fingernails. A trail of blood ran from them down to your wrist. The look he gave you had your face burning in childish embarrassment, as if you were getting scolded by a parent.

“You’ll visit the infirmary later. I’ll have a servant come to clean you up, lest you’re hiding anymore injuries.”

You wanted to scoff at his choice of words. A small mark of self-mutilation was hardly an injury, and would never compare to the harm you brought to those in Chernast. Instead, you settled on a frown. He hoisted you to your feet and set you straight. As he moved to leave, you caught his arm.

“Wait,” you said. He looked at you expectantly, and you found yourself at a loss for words. You weren’t sure where you were going with this, but the idea of being left alone terrified you. The idea of being left alone with one of the servants terrified you even more. You wanted to believe it was because of the looks the other Grisha had given you upon your arrival--distrust, discomfort, and horror. You would never admit it, but you knew the true reason: you weren’t afraid of what they’d do to you, but of what you’d do to them. “Stay.”

After a beat of silence, you cleared your throat, pulling away from the powerful man. It was foolish, you were foolish. You leaned against the table, propping yourself up with both arms. The strength it took to hold yourself up became too much, though, and your arms trembled with exertion.

General Kirigan reached out to catch you, balancing your weight on his forearms. He didn’t say anything, didn’t react to your request, or reprimand you for being so forward. Instead, he wrapped an arm around your back, supporting a majority of your weight as you leaned into his side.

He mumbled encouragements as he led you to a side room, resting you against the cool surface of a sink. You observed the new environment, the realization that he had brought you into his washroom dawning on you. The room was large enough, with a tub seated in the center. General Kirigan was beside it, turning the handle to allow water to pour from the faucet. As the tub filled to a level of his liking, he set out a variety of soaps and sponges off to a table on the side.

He took a few tentative steps in your direction, as though he were approaching a wild animal. Maybe he was. He gestured to the door you had entered through. “I’ll be in the other room.”

With a flustered expression, he shut the door behind him. It took you a while to get the motivation to move, to make any progress toward the bath. The ruined garments decorating your body would not budge under your trembling fingertips, so you eased into the tub fully-clothed. The water was scorching hot against the exposed parts of skin, but as you adjusted, you found that you preferred it. The bitter cold of the Fjerdan border still bit into your skin, so you welcomed the hot pain.

Cold. Chernast. Pain. Burn. The connection formed before you could stop it, and you were plagued by the memories from days before. You whimpered, curling into a fetal position. You remembered your weak attempts at healing the fatal injuries that littered the bodies of your fallen friends; the Fjerdan warriors charging you, axes raised to cut you down; the burning rage as your hands moved in ways they never had before; Fjerdan blood mixing with Grisha as it splattered into the snow.

The rap of knuckles against the door startled you out of your trance. The general’s voice sounded from the other side, “Is it okay to come in?”

You froze. Had it really been that long?

The door creaked open. He stepped into the room, his eyes finding yours. He let out an exasperated sigh at your state: curled in the tub, clothed, the water barely warm, and skin still dirty. His figure disappeared into the other room, bringing back with him a wooden chair.

He took a seat by the tub, reaching forward. His hands rested on your shoulders, smoothing over the fabric as his fingers moved to work at the buttons of your ruined kefta. The general was close enough now for you to smell him. A whirl of musk and spice filtered through your nose. You inhaled deeply, the scent strangely calming you.

The rest of your layers were stripped from your skin, and he folded the garments--Saints know why; they were beyond the help of any Fabrickator. You were left in a loose shirt and pants. The muck and grime caking your skin itched, and it took everything in you not to scrape it off. Your fingernails dug into the fat of your calves, jabbing through the thin material of your pants. You curled further into yourself, head rested against your knees. The pain brought you to the present, and it was all you could do to focus on that.

“What did this to you?” the general asked, rolling up his sleeves. He rubbed a bar of soap against a damp towel until the suds grew to his liking. He pressed the cloth to the skin of your hands, gently rubbing away the grime.

It was a different way of asking what happened, with an implication that you were not the cause. If only he knew that you were. “I don’t know. I don’t want to know.”

“You’re a Heartrender, no? You must remember the attack.”

“I’m a Healer.”

The confession stalled his movements. His grip on your wrist loosened, but he continued his work in the silence that followed.

“I do,” you whispered, after a moment. “I do remember.”

Kirigan didn’t say anything. He glared at the bruises marking your arms from the Heartrenders’ grip.

“Fjerdan warriors attacked in the night. We never saw them coming. There was so much blood, so many bodies.”

“But you weren’t one of them.”

“No. I was trying to help those still alive. Heal them, if I could. Saints, at that point I was saving them just for them to die again.” You swallowed, thick and teary-eyed. “One of them found me, in the midst of it all. He pinned me to the ground. I saw the axe raise. And I just…panicked.”

By now, Kirigan had moved to cleaning your face. He dabbed carefully at your forehead.

“My hands were on his chest, and I felt every bone in his body break.”

You were disgusted with yourself. You were a Healer, not a Heartrender. It was your chosen specialization because you could not stand the thought of causing another person pain–you wanted to help. And yet here you were, one massacre later.

His finger smoothed the crease of your brows. “That sounds like self defense to me.”

“It could’ve been. If I hadn’t hunted down every warrior after that.” He gestured for you to stand. A fluffy towel wrapped around your shoulders, soaking in the sopping wet material of your clothes. “Why are you doing this?”

“Doing what?” he asked as you stepped from the tub.

“Taking care of me.”

“Someone needed to.”

“You didn’t have to.”

A pregnant pause. You thought you may have overstepped or offended him. He pulled you close by the towel on your shoulders, fingers gripping the sides of your jaw. His thumb rubbed against your cheek. “I did. I know what it’s like to feel like the monster.”

“General–”

“Kirigan. Just Kirigan.”

“Kirigan.” You smiled, if only a small one, for the first time in weeks. “Thank you.”

buy me a coffee

#general kirigan x reader #kirigan x reader #the darkling x reader #darkling x reader #aleksander morozova x reader #the darkling #general kirigan #aleksander morozova #shadow and bone #grisha #shadow and bone x reader #general kirigan one shot #kirigan one shot #the darkling one shot

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thesuntomyshadows · 2 months

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Jesper: Whenever Y/N's mad at me I tighten the lids on all our jars so they have to come and get help from me.

Y/N: Ughh, will you just open! *Sound of smashing glass in the background*

Jesper: It hasn't worked yet but it'll happen.

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notelcol · 1 month

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The Getaway🐦‍⬛

That Kaz x reader hurt/comfort that was voted in by some lovely people❤️

Mildly edited, apologies for mistakes🫶

The wind blew harshly against your body as you ran through Ketterdam with a stolen scroll in your hand. Your felt like you were flying. Grinning, you turned towards the man who ran a step behind you. His face matched yours. A wicked joy had you both feeling more alive than ever. You had just pulled a small heist, now it was your favourite part. The getaway.

A few more turnings through the winding streets and you would be at the switch point. There, you would meet Inej and she would disappear with the loot, while Jesper shoots the men chasing you. That was the plan at least…When you and Kaz finally skidded to a halt at your location, you both looked up at the rooftops for Inej.

“Where is she?” Kaz hissed. You looked back down the road you had come from.

“Where’s the men?” You realised they should have caught up by now. Slow footsteps began to echo, coming from a nearby turning. You whipped your head around to see the man you just stole from. He grinned menacingly before pulling out a gun. Kaz clocked it before you did but before he could even take a step towards you, the shot rang out. The scroll fell from your hand and rolled down the street, towards the shooter.

“I’ll have that back now, thank you.” He said, all too politely. Then, he simply walked away while whistling a jaunty tune.

The shock wore off, as the whistling became quieter. Then came the pain. You held your hand against your stomach, only to be met with a wet warmth. Reality truly hit you when you looked down at your hand and saw the blood. All of a sudden you could feel it trickling down from your stomach until it fell in a pool on the floor. You looked to Kaz for reassurance, only to see him white as a sheet inching towards you terror.

“You need to apply pressure.” He instructed. You complied, but each second you felt as though you were fading. Until, you dropped.

“HEY!” Kaz shouted desperately poking you with his cane. “Stay awake and keep applying pressure. Inej and Jesper will be here, they are just held up.” He hoped they would come. A situation like this is the only time Kaz feels useless.

Your eyes started to roll as your vision became blurry. You tried to keep pressing on your wound but your hands wouldn’t listen to you. As your fingers fell beside you once again, you felt a hard pressure against your stomach. You knew you were delirious when you saw Kaz kneeling at your side, keeping your blood inside your body, allowing you to close your eyes at last. Kaz himself was beginning to feel like he was dreaming too. The last time he had pushed his hair out of his face, your blood on his gloves ran up his arm beneath his sleeve. The wet sensation combined with the coldness of your body under his hands was all too familiar.

Kaz wanted nothing more than to sink his memories forever. But they kept surfacing to matter how hard he tried to focus on you. A scream ripped from his throat as he punched himself in the head, as if trying to evict the distraction of his childhood trauma. His eyes fell upon your face as he told himself this isn’t Jordie. You were still alive, at least you would be as long as he could keep himself together. He pressed more confidently against the wound at he thought of losing you, his partner in crime. He never expected to trust someone enough to call them that. He had his Crows, but never a partner. Not until you. Not since Jordie. A tear fell from his cheek onto yours as he stared down at your paling features.

He barely even noticed Inej’s arrival. It was shortly followed by Jesper’s much louder one.

“Sorry! We got held up by-“ Jesper froze when he saw the scene before him, then released a breath when he saw your chest rising.

“Shit. We need to get them back home.” Jesper jumped straight into action, less cautious to approach Kaz than Inej was. He took over Kaz’ position at your side and picked you up.

You woke up to a deep ache, causing you to groan and roll over. The movement changed the pain to a searing stab.

“FUCKING HELL!!!” You screamed.

“Good morning to you too.” Kaz’ made his presence in the room known to you. He was sat at the side of your bed smirking at you.

“I take it the men who were supposed to be chasing us are why Inej and Jesper were late?” You asked. Kaz answered you with only a nod, leaving you still concerned for your friends. Your rolled your eyes as sat up, this time sure to move slower. It did not help much, still feeling like you were being ripped open. You felt Kaz’ cane press against your chest gently.

“Lay down.” He sternly told you. You looked up at him in defiance but stopped when you saw his eyes. “Please.” His tone was more vulnerable this time, small like a whisper. You allowed his cane to push you back down, not missing the sadness in his eyes as a groan escaped you.

“I’m okay.” You sent him a comforting smile, which he returned.

“So are Inej and Jesper.”

Kaz had been in and out of your room all day in between handling business.

“I just came to say goodnight.” He said, though he seemed as though he was holding back. You decided not to pry, since you did not have the energy to get blood from a stone tonight.

“Goodnight Kaz.” You smiled. He turned to leave, looking almost disappointed. Then out of nowhere, he rushed back in and stopped when he reached your bedside. He looked deep into your eyes. The intensity woke your drowsy mind as your heart skipped a beat. “You are very special to me. Today was…” He trailed off and looked away. You thought he was about to turn around and leave again, but instead he sucked in a deep breath and quickly pressed a kiss to your forehead. As his lips met your skin, he lingered for a second. This was the closest you had ever felt to him. Not because of the physical contact though. It was rare for Kaz let someone see him feel. It felt intimate. But it was over as fast as it began.

“Goodnight.” He said once more, but this time he was breathless and shaking in a mix of fear and something else that he was finally ready to name.

“I love you.” He spoke. Before you could process the interaction, he was gone.

——-

Thank you for reading 🌹

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violentvaleska · 3 months

Text

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑬𝒎𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒐𝒓

ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴs/ ᴀᴜ

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ᴇᴍᴘᴇʀᴏʀ!ʟᴇᴠɪ × ʏᴇᴀɢᴇʀ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: ᴇᴍᴘᴇʀᴏʀ ʟᴇᴠɪ ɪs ɴᴏᴛ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴇsᴛᴇᴅ ɪɴ ᴄᴏɴᴛɪɴᴜɪɴɢ ᴀ ᴡᴀʀ ʜɪs ʟᴀᴛᴇ ᴜɴᴄʟᴇ sᴛᴀʀᴛᴇᴅ, ʜᴇɴᴄᴇ ᴡʜʏ ʜᴇ ᴅᴇᴄɪᴅᴇs ᴛᴏ ᴏғғᴇʀ ᴋɪɴɢ ɢʀɪsʜᴀ ᴀ ᴅᴇᴀʟ: ᴛᴀᴋɪɴɢ ʜɪs ᴏɴʟʏ ᴅᴀᴜɢʜᴛᴇʀ, ʏᴏᴜ, ᴀs ʜɪs ᴡɪғᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ʜᴇʀ ᴇᴍᴘʀᴇss.

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: sᴍᴜᴛ, sʟɪɢʜᴛ ʙʀᴇᴇᴅɪɴɢ ᴋɪɴɢ, ᴛᴏxɪᴄ, ᴏʙsᴇssɪᴠᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴘᴏssᴇssɪᴠᴇ ʙᴇʜᴀᴠɪᴏʀ, sᴇxɪsᴍ

ᴀ/ɴ: ᴍɪɢʜᴛ ᴀs ᴡᴇʟʟ ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ᴀ ғᴀɴғɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴏғ ᴛʜɪs...ᴅᴇᴘᴇɴᴅs ᴏɴ ʜᴏᴡ ʏᴏᴜ ɢᴜʏs ʟɪᴋᴇ ɪᴛ ;)

Emperor!Levi who actually never wanted to be the damn king of anything. Being the only heir to the throne after his late uncle passed away he had no choice but to take the rein of the war-ridden empire Paradis

Emperor!Levi who decides after a long conversation with his consultant Erwin Smith, that the war needed to end, there was no point in continuing something his megalomaniacal uncle has started. And if conflicts aren't solved with war they are being solved with women. There opinion in this doesn't matter, an arranged marriage would be a key to peace and a potential marriage.

Emperor!Levi who offered the Marleyan King Grisha Yeager a generous deal: His cousin Princess Mikasa Ackerman of Paradis and Hizuru would be married off to their second son, Prince Eren Yeager of Marley and Levi would take their daughter in return, making her Empress of Paradis. He knew they wouldn't be able to refuse the deal, considering that Grisha Yeager's second wife, Carla, was once a noblewoman of Paradis.

Emperor!Levi who secretly only offered the deal because King Grishas youngest children were in fact half Eldian.

Emperor!Levi who, when he saw you for the first time, couldn't belive his luck. You, the Princess of Marley, were in fact a true beauty. You not only looked clean but smelled like it too, like you were taking good care of yourself. It truly relived him to see that you weren't filthy like your oldest brother Zeke. He originally planned to offer Mikasa to him, but seeing how he already had a wife, Ymir, a woman with eldian heritage and slave history, he had to give her hand to the younger brother.

Emperor!Levi who thought you were rather shy and docile, but came to realize that you infact were able to keep up with his cynic personality and were well read too.

"At least our children won't be as dumb as the heir to your lands throne" He told you the night before your wedding at dinner.

"I can't argue that. Zeke is an eccentric narcissist, I'm honestly glad to have a different mother than him." You awnsered calmly, taking a sip of your wine, while glancing at your soon to be husband.

Emperor!Levi who could not longer control himself on your wedding night and broke your hymen with a harsh trust of his hips, making you yelp in a mixture of pain and pleasure, as you wiggled under his body, naked and vulnerable. Levi took his sweet time with you, making sure to impregnate you well.

Emperor!Levi who despised the idea of children, but somehow find the encouragement to fuck you every night in hopes to see your belly round with his child, his own heir, soon.

Emperor!Levi who got madly protective over you when the doctors confirmed your pregnancy to him. It went so far he didn't even want you to leave his chambers in fear something could happen to you. You felt furious, trapped and robbed of your freedom. Freedom, something your brother Eren had plenty off now that the war was over thanks to you and his wife, Mikasa.

Emperor!Levi who didn't understand why you were so upset with him, demanding of you to be grateful instead of a "nagging woman". If it wasn't for his own mother to stop her sons madness, you'd probably still be locked up in his room.

Emperor!Levi who nearly cried tears of joy when he held his newborn son in his arms for the first time, calling him Furlan after his late friend, a soldier who died a heroic death in the war. It was bitter, yet filled his cold heart with joy.

Emperor!Levi who found a new obsession in having you, his wife and empress, as an object of his desires, in every way possible. He'd make sure you won't be able to go back to that filth of a kingdom you have been born in. You were his wife now, his very own key to his heart...

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seeingivy · 11 months

Text

meeting the parents

roommate eren x f!reader

you swear you know the family sitting next to you at eren’s soccer game, you’re just not sure from where

**find mini-series masterlist here

an: ty for all the love on roommate eren!!!! this part was super super rushed and not AS proofread lol but I just wanted to put the idea out there to set it up for some other stuff :DDDD

previous part linked here

“Is there something I’m supposed to wear to your soccer game? I’ve never been to one before.”

You feel Eren get up from his bed, which you were currently sprawled on. You’d spent more time in his room as of late, his bed being more comfortable to watch movies on than the couch. The night you had slept in his bed felt like it breached any sense of normal boundaries between the two of you, this was the new normal. I guess touching each others scars can do that to someone.

In the middle of the movie he had picked out for today, which was a stupid nature documentary that was putting you to sleep, he had invited you to come to his first home game, which was on Friday.

He was trying to convince you - telling you Annie would be there, that there are snacks, and Jean and Armin will be too since they were part of the game. You’re positive he doesn’t understand the pull he has on you, because you’d agree to anything the second he asked.

After you agree, you can’t help but feel your heart twinge at the smile spreading across your face and you fight the urge to poke his dimples. You love his dimples. His smile lines. The softness near his eyes. You shake your head, directing your gaze back to the forest on the screen as you avoid the fluttering in your chest.

After your question about the clothes, he nearly jumped up, rummaging through his closet to find something for you to wear. After a few minutes, he throws the shirt at you, which lands square in your face, knocking you over. You pull the shirt off your face, sticking your tongue out at him as he joins you back on the bed.

You keep a respectable distance when you sit together on his bed, obviously. You can’t even look at him without exploding. And whenever he touches you, all you can think about is his soft, nimble fingers running across your skin in the night, touching all the parts of you that were hurt.

But every once in a while, Eren will brush his hand against yours while reaching for his phone, fix your hair behind your ears because you ‘look like a garden troll’, and claim you have a stray eyelash on your face just to press his fingers against your cheek.

You think it’s an excuse to touch you, that it can’t all be a mistake, but you’re also well aware that Eren can make you a little delusional. You ignore the validity of the situation all together. The less you think about his fingers on your skin, the better.

You hold the shirt up, inspecting it. Your throat drying when you realize what it is. His jersey.

“Eren. I can’t wear this.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know. Aren’t you supposed to wear it while you’re playing?”

“I have another one. Plus, all the girls wear jerseys to the games. Annie’s wearing Armin’s honorary jersey.”

Annie’s not a normal girl, she’s Armin’s girlfriend. All the girlfriends wear jerseys to the game. You turn to face him, an uneasy expression pressed on your face. He rolls his eyes, his hand making its way to the top of your head. He sticks his fingers into your scalp, applying soft pressure.

“Why are you thinking so hard? It’s just a shirt. I can find you another one if it bothers you that much.”

He’s right. It’s just a shirt. To him anyways. It might mean something else for Annie and Armin and every other girl but for you guys, it’s just a shirt.

You shake your head, agreeing to wear it to the game on Friday.

The game rolls around and you’re currently seated in the stands alone. You have superstitions to thank for that.

Armin doesn’t play in the game, but helps the coaching team strategize where to put the best players. Hence, the honorary jersey Eren mentioned earlier. Armin’s been around the sport since he was a kid and knows all the players' strengths well enough to help assist in making plays. It makes a lot of sense when you think about it - Armin’s never the one at the center of the play, but definitely the mastermind behind it.

However, Armin claims that they can’t win unless he’s wearing a very specific pair of blue shoe laces. Eren explained that superstitions mean everything to the team, even to him. Apparently, he refuses to play if he isn’t wearing his key necklace. Because, he’ll lose without it. Armin’s the same with the shoelaces.

Annie was currently tearing apart Armin’s apartment, trying to find the shoelaces before they could start the game in a few minutes. Which left you alone in the stands reading the book you brought to kill the time. You’re not much of a soccer or sports fan - so you had contingency plans in place. You’re just here to support your friends and because Eren asked you to come.

You feel a hand on your shoulder, pulling out your earphones to acknowledge the nudging. You find a tall, blonde man standing over you, gesturing if he could sit next to you. He has two other people with him, a man and a woman with dark black hair, who have to be one of the player's parents. You give them a smile, nodding your head that they could take the seats next to you.

“A Midsummer Night’s Dream?”

“Yeah, I have to read it for an assignment.”

At the sound of his voice, you take a moment to really seep into the man’s features. He’s got blonde hair, thin circular framed glasses, and a full sported beard. If you had to guess, you would say he’s somewhere in his late twenties, just based on his looks and demeanor. You have a feeling you’ve seen him somewhere before, but you can’t really pinpoint where from.

“This is an interesting place to complete an assignment. What brings you here?”

You shut the book closed, squinting your eyes around on the field till you find Eren running up and down the track. The game starts in a few minutes and he’s warming up before he takes his spot at the goalie stand.

“That guy. He’s my roommate. I came to see him play.”

The man nods, craning his neck to find who it was you were pointing at. You sit in silence, not interacting with the man or the other two people till the middle of the game. Annie still hadn’t returned, but they were surprisingly winning the game. It was neck to neck the entire time, Eren’s team barely scoring over them each time the whistle went off.

You feel the fingers tap into your shoulder again, the blonde man staring at you.

“I’m going to go get water from my stands for my parents. Did you want anything?”

You can’t ignore the growling in your stomach and the dryness in your throat - you had been screaming for a better half of the last hour. You never knew sports could make you so passionate. You dig for your wallet in your pocket, pulling out way too much cash for a simple bottle of water. You reach for his hand, squeezing it twice before speaking.

“Thank you so much, really. It’s very kind of you to ask me. If you could get me a snack, that would be great. Here’s the money for it, you can use it for your parents' water bottles too.”

You place the bills in his hands, turning your neck back to find Eren running on the field. You feel bad, but the only thing you can focus on is him. He’s so coordinated, like a figure skater on the field. Watching him lace the ball through his feet to avoid other players taking it from him felt somewhat hypnotic - but you think that’s more about how Eren looks and is, rather than how he’s playing.

As the blonde man turns to leave, the woman slides into his seat, leaning over to talk to you. She has golden brown eyes, which are warmly peering into yours.

“You’re really into the game. You’ve been following it really closely.”

“I never thought I’d enjoy it so much. This is actually my first time coming to a game.”

“What made you decide to come today?”

“Eren Yeager. He’s number eleven, running on the right side of the field. He’s a really good friend of mine and he asked me to come. He cares a lot about the game and I care a lot about him, so I just had to come when he asked me.”

She presses her hand over yours, squeezing tight. You can see her eyes glimmering at your words, though you’re not entirely sure why. You can’t place it but she seems familiar too. You’re having a weird sense of deja vu from the game all together.

“You’re a sweet girl, really.”

You smile back, your heart tingling at her words. You’re distracted by everyone cheering at the field, craning your neck back to find Eren. You watch him sink the ball into the net, jumping to your feet at the sight of him stopping, a smile shining on his face as he watches the scoreboard turn in his favor.

You swear you imagine the next part, but the looks everyone around you give you tells you it was real. He turns to the field, squinting till he finds you settled in the bleachers. He points to the net, signaling at the score he just made, and then points at you, a smile pressed against his face. You’re not sure what it means entirely, but what you are sure of is that his stupid smile was going to make your heart explode one day.

Eren wins the game. Obviously. You watch his teammates lift him into the air, shuffling him to the end of the bleachers. You run down the steps, your cheeks sore from smiling so hard. You watch the players let him go and he meets your eyes, slowly walking over to meet you.

You basically run at him, tangling your arms around his neck. He lifts you up, spinning you around for a few seconds before setting you down. You can feel his arms shaking, which you’re sure is the adrenaline from the rush of the game.

“Ren. That was so fucking cool. You’re so cool.”

“Yeah?”

You can see the corners of his lips quirking up at his words, a warm look in his green eyes.

“You’re amazing. You move so fast, I could barely keep my eyes off of you.”

“You can’t do that anyways.”

You smack his shoulder with the side of your arm, rolling your eyes at him. He’s not wrong.

Before you can bite back, he looks past your shoulder, waving at someone behind you. You turn your neck to find the three people you were sitting with from before walking up, swinging their arms around Eren.

You watch the man with blonde hair put his hand in Eren’s hair and affectionately shake his entire head, while the man and the woman envelop him in a hug. You’re thoroughly confused.

“You know them?”

“Do you know them, peaches?”

“Peaches?” you hear the black haired man say, turning his eyes towards his wife and son.

“Yeah, we were sitting together during the game.”

He turns his neck, narrowing his eyes at the three of them.

“How did you guys know it was her?”

“She has Yeager printed on the back of her shirt in huge letters. It wasn’t that hard to figure out she was the girl we were looking for.”

The three of them turn to you, all of them smiling brightly. Eren pulls you closer, swinging his arm around your shoulder as he turns to face you.

“Y/N. These are my parents, Grisha and Carla, and my brother Zeke. They really wanted to meet you and I was going to introduce you to them after the game but they had other plans.”

You can feel the gears settling into place in your head, the deja vu feeling making sense. The picture Eren showed you when you were sick, when you became friends - it was of them. His family. You just didn’t recognize them right away because they were way younger than they are now.

You press your hands to all of theirs, the dread filling your chest. They knew it was you the entire time and you had no idea. Is that rude? Are they going to tell Eren you said that you cared about him?

“I’m really sorry I didn’t recognize you. Eren showed me a picture and I thought I knew you guys from somewhere, but the picture he had shown you was so old.”

“He showed you a picture of us? He basically refused to show us any of you, he’s so secretive.” Carla responds, the shock pressed on her face.

“Just threaten him. He’ll give in eventually.”

The three of them laugh, your heart tingling at the sight of their laughter and smiles. Okay, okay. Not too bad. They don’t hate you, that’s for sure.

“I have a feeling he only does that for you.”

You quirk your eyes at his dad, Grisha he said, and shake your head, dismissing the comment. He’d do it for anyone. You just know how to do it. You hear Annie and Armin calling you from the other side of the field, something about taking a picture of them.

You shake all of their hands another time, giving them your brightest smile before letting your legs drag you to where Annie and Armin were standing.

“No grandchildren till after graduation.”

“Mom.”

“I get it. She’s really cute, she’s sweet, it’s probably easy when you sleep in a bed together every night. But no grandchildren.”

“She’s not my girlfriend. And she doesn’t sleep in my bed.”

Eren feels Zeke smack the back of his head, turning back to glare at him.

“You get stupider as time goes on. That poor girl likes you so much.”

Eren shakes his head, looking over at you from across the field. You’re crouched on the ground, taking a picture of Annie and Armin who have their arms tangled around each other. Of course, you’re crouching on the ground to get the best angle.

Annie’s pressing a kiss to his cheek and he ignores the fact that all he can think about is you doing that to him.

“No, she doesn’t.”

“She told us she cared about you. A lot. And mind you, she thought we were strangers. She wasn’t trying to impress us as your family or your loved ones, she literally was just telling us, like she’d tell any other stranger who talked to her. She likes you.”

Eren feels his dad come behind him, pressing dollar bills into his open palm.

“It’s her money. Make sure you return it.”

“She offered to pay, didn’t she?”

They all nod, confirming his suspicions as he glances back over to you. Kindness was like breathing to you and he envied, admired, and loved it about you all at once. You were so...you sometimes, it hurt him.

Eren gives Zeke one more shove for good measure, before stalking over to the field where you’re standing. He reaches over, pressing his fingers into the side of your shoulder. You turn over, your stupid doe eyes staring into his again.

“Need something, Ren?”

“I want a picture with you. Ask Annie and Armin to take it.”

He doesn’t miss how your face lights up at the request and he curses your sweet little heart for making him like you more.

Sometimes he feels like he can’t help it, like you could breathe and he’d love you for it. The way your nose crinkles, your chest rising and falling as it fills with air, he could love anything, even a stupid physiological act, if it was you.

You hand Annie the camera, reaching over to press yourself against him. He reaches forward, squishing your face in his hand as Annie takes the picture. You run over, snatching the phone from Annie’s hand to swipe through the pictures. You accidentally land on the picture of Annie and Armin first, Annie pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“Oh my god, I thought that was us for a second Ren. Imagine.”

But he doesn’t have to. There’s already a picture of you two like that - you pressing a kiss to his cheek - from a while back. You just don’t remember it.

next part linked here

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criminalamnesia · 1 year

Text

This is me trying

summary: the last time you saw Nikolai, he told you he never wanted to see you again. now, you’re standing outside his door.

warnings: angst, brief mentions of torture (not explicit), reader is manipulated by the darkling, tidemaker!reader, not proofread, gender neutral reader

author’s note: me? writing more Nikolai while listening to Taylor swift? it’s more likely than you think. this one was inspired by “this is me trying.” listen to it while reading for the full experience :))

The last time you had seen Nikolai, he had told you he never wanted to see you again.

Now, here you are, standing in front of the door to his quarters. You would laugh if you weren’t so terrified of how he was going to react.

Would he still be mad? Would he scream at you, tell at you to get out? No, you thought. He wouldn’t do that.

But maybe time had changed him. He had still been a wild prince when you had last seen him– taking careless risks and throwing himself to the front of every battle. He had inspired you to be better– and you had been, for a time, but you weren’t Nikolai.

You did not have his heart. You did not have his resilience or kindness or grace. You were a burnt-out grisha who had abandoned her post. You were an outcast, a deserter, a failure.

Would he see that?

You inhaled deeply, your fist raised to knock. It hovered above the white wood of the door, shaking slightly. You shut your eyes tightly, willing yourself to knock. Your fist did not move.

“What are you doing?”

The sound of Nikolai’s voice had startled you, causing the bubble of water you’d been manipulating to pop. You groaned as it fell in droplets back into the lake.

“Saints, Nikolai, when did you get so quiet?” You huffed, lowering your outstretched hands and turning around to face him.

He was still in his First Army attire. He must’ve just gotten back from whatever front he’d been at this time– probably the northern. The Fjerdans had been causing problems lately.

“I was quite loud, actually. Maybe you were just too focused on your bubble.” He grinned, opening his arms to you. You rolled your eyes, stepping forward and into his embrace.

He wrapped his arms around you, squeezing you tightly. You gave a breathless laugh at his strength.

“I’m happy to see you too, Nik. But you’re going to squeeze me to death–” you said, earning a laugh from him before he mercifully dropped his arms.

You stepped back, giving him a wide smile. He smiled in return, looking you up and down. “New Kefta?” He questioned.

You nodded, subconsciously tugging at one of your sleeves. “The Fabrikators have been trying to incorporate stronger material into the Keftas to make them more protective. Guess I’m lucky they’re doing it now,” you gave a small laugh, but it wasn’t joyful.

Nikolai frowned, his eyebrows raising in confusion. “What do you mean?”

You inhaled, glancing at his face before looking down to your hands. Your hands, which held so much power. Your hands, that would soon be stained with blood.

“The General is sending some of the Second Army up to the northern front. The Fjerdan witch hunters have been abducting the grisha stationed there. He wants us to go put an end to it.”

Nikolai slowly shook his head. “That doesn’t make sense. I was just up there– we didn’t hear about any of that.”

“This is a grisha matter, Nik. The General thought it best for it to stay within the Little Palace. I shouldn’t even be telling you.”

“So he’s sending you up there?” Nikolai scoffed. “To what, be abducted like the rest? He should be sending his heartrenders–”

“Nikolai, this may be hard for you to hear, but I’m not who I was when you left. You’ve been gone for months. My abilities have grown– the General is impressed with my skills. This is a chance to show him he wasn’t wrong in showing me favor.”

“So, what, you’re one of his henchmen now? You know what happens to the grisha he ‘favors’–”

“I don’t want to talk about this any more, Nikolai.” You interrupted, holding up a hand. You knew he was right. You knew about Genya. About Zoya. About all the other grisha the Darkling took a shining too. But the Darkling’s favor came with better training, higher status. It made you stronger.

You knew you had to tread carefully, but you were tired of watching Nikolai ride off to battle and doing nothing about it. Now, you could help your prince and your country with your powers, and if Nikolai didn’t understand that, then so be it.

Before he could speak again, you continued. “I’m supposed to be at the stables now, anyway. We’re leaving soon. I don’t know when I’ll be back,” you admitted, meeting Nikolai’s gaze. “We can talk about it when I return.”

He swallowed his protests and nodded. “Good luck, then.”

You could hear movement behind the heavy wooden doors. Even at this late hour, Nikolai was still awake. It didn’t surprise you– he had always been a night owl, even when you were children.

You used to sneak away from the Little Palace in the middle of the night and meet Nikolai wherever you could. The gardens, the kitchens, the lake. The pair of you would always make it a challenge to see who could stay up longer, wanting to spend as much time together as you could before sleep took you. Nikolai always won.

You took another deep breath. You had foolishly hoped that he would be asleep– even though you knew he wouldn’t be– so you could have an excuse as to why you didn’t come to see him.

You knew he had to know you were here. Someone had to have told him– probably one of the heartrender twins. They had been keeping a watchful eye on you since you had arrived, and you couldn’t quite blame them.

Perhaps Alina had told him. Even though there was no way she could know your past with Nikolai, maybe she had mentioned who she was traveling with to him. You knew he couldn’t forget you, wouldn’t forget you– just like you with him.

You returned from the northern border a month later, and Nikolai barely recognized you.

You were different– and that, he understood. Battle changed even the best of people. But what happened to you, whatever it was, had made you someone different. Someone colder, darker.

He had heard whispers of what had happened to you up there. You refused to talk to him about it– when you talked to him at all. It was hard to get a word in with you seeing as you were constantly training, or right under the Darkling’s nose.

What you had done, what you had seen, Nikolai couldn’t imagine. The servants that went between the Little and Grand Palaces whispered. They said only about half of the grisha sent to the front came back, you amongst them. They said unspeakable things had happened there– the witch hunters had tortured your fellow grisha– even you.

They said you had drained the life from the men that did that to you and the other grisha, leaving them a deflated heap on the snowy ground– and even when they begged for mercy, you did not stop.

You continued to be sent out after that. The Darkling sent you wherever he could– the border of Shu-Han, on an expedition to Ketterdam, right into Fjerda to rescue taken grisha. Each time you returned, you lost more of yourself. You spoke less to Nikolai.

He was worried, and who wouldn’t be? His best friend had become someone– something unrecognizable. He finally cornered you one day before he was to leave on a journey to Kerch. Little did his family know that he was actually going to begin another escapade as Sturmhond.

“You need to come with me,” he had told you, one of his hands reaching forward to grasp yours. The pair of you were hidden away in the cluster of trees by the lake. You were supposed to be leaving soon for another assignment. Nikolai should’ve already been gone, but he couldn’t leave without seeing you.

You glanced down at his hands on yours. You looked back up at him, his expression pleading as his eyes all but begged you. You only shook your head.

“The General needs me. I’m leaving for Ketterdam in the morning.” You said, and Nikolai shook his head.

“Please, listen to me. The General is destroying you– I’ve heard the stories. You’re someone your younger self would’ve been terrified of,” he frowned, squeezing your hands.

“I’m stronger,” you replied. “And i’m fulfilling my purpose– just as you did. You went off with the First Army, and now I’m doing the same with the Second. I’m fighting for Ravka– for grisha– and I’m someone the General trusts. He isn’t destroying me, Nikolai. I won’t let him.”

“He has blinded you. He has made you powerful, yes, but he’s made you cold. Dark. Remember when we used to meet in the garden at night? When we talked about everything. When it was just us.” He said, and you nodded. “You told me once that you didn’t want to be another one of his pawns. That you would never let yourself fall for his honeyed words.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes as you pulled your hands from Nikolai’s grasp. “And I’ve kept my word. I haven’t,” you said through your teeth, almost as if you were fighting to convince yourself you were right.

“You have. He’s put you on a pedestal, made you someone you never should’ve become. He’s a monster, and he’s making–”

You gave a humorless laugh, cutting him off. “He’s making me a monster? Is he?” You said, crossing your arms. “He’s given me what I need to do what I need to do. If that makes me a monster, so be it.”

“And those witch hunters you killed, what you did to them– that wasn’t monstrous?”

“That was deserved,” you said. Nikolai took a step back.

“You know that it wasn’t. You’re not that kind of person.”

“You don’t know what they do,” you spat, arms falling to your sides, fists clenched in anger. “You didn’t see what I saw. You played Prince in the first army, when the worst thing that happens is a shot to the shoulder. I watched them,” your voice wavered slightly. “I watched them burn my friends alive. Feed them to their wolves. All of my friends– their screams are etched into my memory. Those Fjerdans deserved worse than what I did,” you spat. “And I’d do it over and over again. And if you can’t understand that, then you need to leave, Nikolai.”

“I’ve seen horrors, too. It’s not a contest,” he spoke, his brows furrowed. “But I didn’t let it do to me what it’s done to you.”

“No, of course not.” You said. “The second son, forever trying to prove he’s not just a bastard.”

You instantly regretted the words as soon as they left your mouth, but it was too late to take them back. Nikolai gave a short nod, his hands moving to straighten his shirt.

“This time, when you leave,” he said, his gaze boring into you. “Don’t let me see you again if you come back.”

More movement could be heard behind the door. You felt tears welling up in your eyes as you dropped your fist. You couldn’t face him. It had been a few years, but you were sure he remembered your last conversation all to well. He wouldn’t want to see you.

Even though you had spent every day since deserting the Second Army regretting your last words to him, regretting what you had become, wishing you could see Nikolai again, you were still scared to knock.

You had been awful, and he had been right. The Darkling had manipulated you, just like he had with Genya. With Zoya. With Alina. You just another girl who fell for his manipulation and his lies– who allowed him to make you into something you hated. He had turned a blind eye at your suffering. He used your powers for his own agenda. He had lied, had abused you– and you had ruined the best thing you had had because of his influence.

You didn’t know if Nikolai was aware that when you left for Ketterdam, you never came back to Ravka. You had deserted the Second Army after that assignment, after seeing things you would never be able to wipe from your memory.

And while you were running from place to place, hiding from Kerch slavers or Shu-Han experimenters or Fjerdan witch hunters, you realized that Nikolai was right. Your powers had gone from a comfort to a reminder of the terrible things you had done. You were no longer the General’s star pupil, no longer that naive little tidemaker that snuck away in the middle of the night to watch the stars with the Prince.

You were tired, and in the midst of trying to piece yourself back together from everything you had suffered over the years, you had been roped into helping the Sun Summoner. Perhaps you had agreed to help her to atone– to try and forgive yourself. To begin righting your wrongs.

And now you were standing in the Grand Palace, a place you’d never thought you’d see again– standing outside of your once-friend’s quarters.

“Saints,” you whispered to yourself, shaking your head to try and disperse the anxious thoughts crowding it. “Why is this harder than battle?”

You raised your hand again, and finally, you knocked.

Nothing. You exhaled a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding. Nikolai must’ve gone to sleep–

The doors creaked opened to reveal the prince, his blond hair tousled– probably from running his hands through it as he thought (it was a nervous tick of his)– and his eyes tired.

You dropped your hand to your side as Nikolai looked you up and down.

“You’re alive,” he breathed, his eyes meeting yours. You gave a small nod.

Maybe no one told him of your arrival, after all.

“Saints,” he gave a small chuckle, stepping into the hallway. “You’re alive!”

He engulfed you in a hug, his arms squeezing you like they had so many times in the past.

“Hey, Nik,” you breathed, a small smile creeping onto your lips.

“I missed you, too.”

And those words held more weight than he would ever know.

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bey0nd-1he-stars · 1 year

Text

Anchor - Nikolai Lantsov

Masterlist

Pairing: Nikolai Lantsov x reader

Wordcount: 1247

Warnings: crying, mentions of wounds

Summary: You try to find Nikolai after the fight is over to make sure he is okay (based heavily on the Netflix show but I can't say that it's spoiling something)

The sun shined like never before. After being drowning in the darkness of the Fold, the sun seemed too bright. You’d made it through the battle with just a few scratches and some torn clothes, but overall you were alright. You’d been with Tamar at the start, but when the Fold had expanded and the volcra had made its way to the fort, you’d had no other choice than to split up if survival were to be left on the map. It'd been a game of hide and seek and fortunately, you’d won. The breath you’d let out when the sun broke through and the light came back, signaling that Alina had done it, it may be the most relief you’d felt in a long time. Until you saw what the volcra had left after their brief visit and you couldn’t find any of the others.

Nikolai wasn’t bearing any of his own weight, leaning on Tamar and Tolya as they made it out of the room and out to the frontside of the fort. Barrels and crates still stood there, a bit messier than before but otherwise it was alright. A few soldiers from the first army had started to gather those who’d been lost in the battle, they were lined up on the grass just outside the gate. Tamar and Tolya carefully sat him down on top of a pair of crates of some sort and let out a huff. Nikolai ran a hand through his blond mop of hair and started to look around for familiar faces. That’s when it hit him. Where were you? Had you survived all this chaos? You had to. In his frantic state of mind he made an attempt to get up but lost his balance until Tolya caught him. He gave him a nod in thank you and started to limp away to try and find you.

“Nikolai? what are you- where are you going?” Tamar asked and ran up to him. She placed an arm around his waist to help stabilize him. Nikolai came to a halt and threw an arm around her shoulders and propped himself up a bit.

“I have to find Y/N.” Tamar nodded and pulled at him, leading him into the fort again, “come along then.”

You were almost running through the corridors, throwing every door open, shouting names into the air. Your heels made clicking sounds against the stone floor that echoed in the hallways, your kefta was torn a few places and the buttons had come undone and it flew behind you like a cloak. The tears that had gathered in your eyes got closer and closer to falling with every door you threw open. Every door led to yet another empty room where chaos had passed and left everything in a mess. Here and there you were met by a few offers from the first army, a few grisha here and there, but no sign of Nikolai, Tolya, Tamar or any of the crows. When you’d almost given up, walking out of the latest room with tears running down your face and your breath caught in your throat, gasping for air, that’s when Nikolai rounded the corner in the far end of the corridor. At the shout of your name you whipped around and the sight of Nikolai and Tamar had you almost fainting with relief.

“Y/N!” Nikolai shouted. It echoed in the corridor and bounced off of the stone walls around you. The sun lit up the corridor and you could see him clearly. Nikolai let go of Tamar and propped himself up against the wall instead. And you ran. You ran straight into his arms, throwing yourself in his embrace and wrapping your arms around his neck, burying your face against his neck. He caught you and pressed you into him, wanting all of you as close to him as possible. He wanted to feel your warmth, your breathing and the beating of your heart. His leg was throbbing and he sunk down on the floor with you still in his arms.

“I thought I lost you, all of you. I couldn’t find any of you,” you whispered, breathing in the scent of him and fisting the fabric of his uniform in your hands. You looked up to see if Tamar was still there but she’d left, probably to tend to Nadia. Nikolai, equally relieved as you, pressed a hasty kiss to the side of your head and placed a hand in your hair, threading through it gently.

“Are you alright?” He asked gently and pulled away slightly to let his eyes roam your body in search of any injuries, but let out a relieved sigh when you nodded and the only wounds he found on you were not very drastic. He made a move to stand up and you pulled away from the hug but grabbed ahold of his hand instead. Nikolai almost fell against the wall when he put pressure on his wounded leg.

“Oh Saints, Nikolai!” You gasped and wrapped an arm around his waist and you let him throw an arm around your shoulders. He grimaced and dragged a sharp breath as you stared walking back outside to where Nikolai said the others would be.

“I’m okay,” he insisted and looked down at you.

“You don’t look very okay,” you said softly and stopped for a moment. You placed yourself in front of him instead and he rested his arms on your shoulders. His blond hair was messy and dirty, he had a bloody wound on the side of his head, a bleeding hole in his shoulder, the same place where he’d taken his first bullet, and his leg was bloodied and wrapped hastily in a white fabric. He definitely didn’t look okay.

“It could be worse,” he tried and his famous smirk made its way to his lips. You chuckled, still the same old humour. He didn’t seem to have hit his head at least. You softly shook your head at him and cupped his cheek in your hand, careful to avoid the wound.

“Just because it could be worse doesn’t mean that you’re okay.” Nikolai smiled at that, you were always so caring and comforting. Something he admired greatly with you. He settled for a simple nod and you placed yourself at his side again to help him walk. When the two of you came out into the sun in the courtyard Nikolai stopped again. You assumed he wanted to rest his leg but when you looked up at him he came crashing his lips down on yours. He held your face gently in his hands, yours came to rest on his chest. The kiss was soft and gentle and Nikolai savored every second like it was his last. You could feel the thumping of his heart through the uniform. The world had stopped and you let yourself enjoy the short moment. The two of you had survived the war, it was at least worth a kiss in celebration.

When you broke apart Nikolai had tears running down his face. His eyes were glossed over and he slightly trembled under your hands. You didn’t say anything, you just wrapped your arms around him and held him, holding him up and pressing soft kisses to his blond mop of curls. You let each other just bask in the moment. You held each other, grounding each other like anchors to the world.

#season 2 shadow and bone #shadow and bone x reader #shadow and bone imagine #shadow and bone #shadow and bone netflix #grishaverse #the grisha series #nikolai lanstov x reader #nikolai lantsov x you #nikolai lantsov x reader #prince nikolai #nikolai lantsov #six of crows #nikolai lantsov fanfic #nikolai lantsov imagines #king of scars #rule of wolves

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flightlessangelwings · 7 months

Text

Ktober Day 4- Sex Pollen

Nikolai Lantsov x gn!Corporalki!reader

Word count- 1.9k

Warnings- s.mut (18+ ONLY!), mutual pining, multiple orgasms, no use of y/n

Notes- Nikolai my beloved I can't believe I've never written anything for him before! What a way to start writing for him, huh lol?! Prompt list made by me! Enjoy!

@flightlessangelwings-updates is myupdate blog so please follow that too and turn on post notifs to stay up to date on my new fics!

“Captain?” you knocked at the door to his quarters, “Is everything alright?” you called through the door as you tested the handle. Finding it unlocked, you slowly opened it and peeked inside, “Tamar wanted me to check on you.”

“Everything’s alright, love,” Nikolai quickly put himself together as you entered his room. He felt his brow dampen as it lined with sweat, and he adjusted his pants uncharacteristically awkwardly as he laid his eyes on you. He always found you attractive, but suddenly, he couldn’t stop the thoughts that barraged his mind.

“Nikolai,” you breathed his true name as you closed the door behind you, “I can feel your heart… It’s…” pounding erratically, beating faster than you had ever felt before, about to explode, “What happened?” you asked as you rushed over to him and looked him over. He was bright red and you saw the way beads of sweat dripped down his face. He looked like he had lost his composure as he covered his mouth, something you had never seen before.

“It’s… nothing…” he breathed heavily as he tried to hide the way his pants tightened between his legs.

Nikolai and the twins had just returned to the ship from an excursion. Everything went fine, until the Captain got separated from the others and didn’t seem himself when he returned. He refused to say anything, but every Corporalki could sense that something was off, including you. It worried you, but Nikolai didn’t want to worry you.

“Forgive me if I don’t believe you,” you said sternly yet softly, “Now please, let me help you,” you reached out to try and touch his forehead to assess what was wrong.

But the moment the tips of your fingers made the briefest contact with his heated skin, Nikolai grabbed your wrist and looked at you with a fire behind his eyes that you had never seen before. He hissed your name as his hands trembled, “Leave,” his voice was strained as he fought against his own mind. If he gave in to whatever he had pulsing through his veins, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from ravaging you. And Nikolai could never forgive himself if he hurt you at all.

“Nikolai,” you whispered, “I’m not leaving you. Not when you’re like this.”

Nikolai let out a low groan that made your breath hitch in your throat. You felt his agony as his hand clenched tightly around your wrist. But there was something else that weighed heavily in your heart. You hated seeing him like this, helpless to do anything for him. And you would do anything for him. You had been hopefully in love with him from practically your first meeting, but you kept those feelings buried deep down.

“Listen to me,” Nikolai strained as he hovered closer to you, “I don’t have time to explain,” he forced a half a smile, “And I wouldn’t want anything to come between us if I can’t stop myself right now… Especially before I got the chance to wine and dine you first.”

At that moment, you felt your own face heat up, “What?”

He cursed under his breath as his body shook, “I don’t know what happened out there, I can’t remember, but whatever it is, everything in me is screaming to fuck you senseless right now or else I feel like I’ll explode.” His memory was hazy, but in his time apart from the others, something must have attacked him and poisoned him with… something. It wasn’t like any other poison, though, nothing Nikolai knew of had effects like… this.

Your mouth dropped open as you processed the weight of his words and what they meant. You felt your own heart flutter in your chest as Nikolai’s gaze bore into your soul. You felt the fire behind his eyes and it lit your body aflame. You had wanted this… wanted him… for so long. But you never in your wildest dreams could have imagined this.

“Let me help,” your voice was so hushed you barely even heard your words. But, from the way Nikolai’s expression changed, you knew he heard you. Swallowing your nerves, you closed the small gap between your bodies and cupped his face, “You can use me.”

“Darling,” his voice didn’t even sound like him as he immediately grabbed you and yanked you so that your chest was flush with his. Then, Nikolai looked surprised, as if his body moved on his own at your words, “I couldn't…”

You whimpered as you felt his hard cock against your body, “You need to,” your own voice trembled, “I…” you sighed as you rested your forehead against his, “I can’t lose you,” your confession was a soft whisper, but it held all the emotions that you kept hidden from everyone, especially him.

In a flash, Nikolai’s lips were on yours in a heated kiss. He swallowed the moan you let out as his hands roamed over your body, ripping at your clothes with abandon as he did so. You clung to him and you heard his heartbeat through your ears; it sounded like the way your ears rang when you were too close to cannon fire. You heard the blood rushing through his veins at incredible speed… or was it your own pulse in your ears?

The room spun in a tizzy as you suddenly found yourself naked on Nikolai’s desk, your legs spread open on their own, as if you felt the effects of whatever infected him as well. But, it didn’t matter. All you could think about was the way he bared his own body before you. Quickly, Nikolai stripped himself of his own clothes, and cock springing free as if it guided his body towards yours the moment it was exposed.

You bit your lip and whimpered as he cupped you between your legs.

“Darling,” Nikolai’s voice was low as he fought to hold himself back momentarily, “Do not let me hurt you.”

Seeing the conviction in his eyes made your heart skip a beat and your inner muscles clenched around nothing, “I trust you,” was your reply. It wasn’t a lie, and you wouldn’t have offered yourself to him if you didn’t.

He groaned as he pumped his cock a few times and lined himself up with your entrance. Pausing only for a fraction of a moment, Nikolai met your eyes before he thrust himself into you.

You threw your head back and screamed as his cock stretched you out. Without any preparation, you felt the sting at first, but it quickly turned to pleasure as he rocked himself in and out of you at a fast and harsh pace. You moaned as you clung to him, and Nikolai wrapped his arms around you in response.

The moment he entered you, Nikolai felt an instant relief, but he knew it would take more than that to fully rid himself of whatever plagued him. He never wanted it to be like this with you. He wanted you, of course, he had since you first joined his crew. But Nikolai wanted to court you properly, to earn your love, your trust, your body. He wasn’t even sure you felt the same way about him that he had about you. But, from the moment he got hit with whatever it was, you were the only person on his mind.

“Saints,” Nikolai murmured as he bit your shoulder to stifle his own moans, “You feel better than I ever imagined.”

You gasped as he hit that sweet spot inside you at the same time his words left his mouth. Tears filled your eyes and emotions took over. All you could do was cling to him as he pounded into you. Moans filled the room as you felt your climax quickly approach.

“Nikolai… I’m…”

He just groaned as he picked up his pace until you came hard. Nikolai wanted to pull back and watch you cum, but at the same time he couldn’t break away from you even by an inch. Instead, he held you tightly as you gushed between your bodies and trembled in his arms.

“Darling…” he growled as he felt his own climax follow yours. And with just a few more pumps of his cock, he came deep inside you as he groaned your name and clutched you tightly.

Relief washed over him like a cool rain on a hot summer day. Nikolai still felt the aftershocks of his orgasm, and his cock still remained hard inside you, but the urgency was gone. But, just as he was about to pull out of you, you wrapped your legs around his waist.

“You can keep going,” you whispered, feeling his hardness as well, “I’m ok.”

“But…”

“I trust you,” your voice was more firm as you pulled back enough to look in his eyes, “Do you trust me?”

“I do,” his reply came without hesitation.

The way you looked at him so sincerely made Nikolai’s cock twitch inside you, and before he knew it, he was thrusting in and out of you again. Your mouth dropped open in a loud moan, but he reeled forward and captured your lips with his one in another deep, heated kiss. As he locked lips with you, Nikolai felt his second climax quickly approach, and without pulling away once more, he came inside you.

You whimpered into his mouth as you felt Nikolai fill you up to the point where his cum dripped down your bodies, but you didn’t care. All you cared about was him.

Breaking away for air with a gasp, Nikolai finally got to look in your eyes as you were lost in pleasure. Lost in pleasure on his cock. Saints, you were beautiful like this. Once more, the need overtook him, and Nikolai pounded into you again until he came for the third time. But this time, he watched your every expression as you moaned and cried out his name.

Your eyes stayed shut as he continued to thrust into you, hitting your sweet spot over and over and over again until you couldn’t take it anymore. And just as Nikolai came for the third time, you did as well, crying out his name and clenching around his cock. This time was different though, for both of you. It felt less urgent, yet just as needy.

“Beautiful,” Nikolai murmured as he watched you fall apart in his arms.

With a gasp, your eyes shot open and your heart skipped a beat as you saw the expression of pure adoration on his face, “Nikolai,” you breathed as you cupped his face.

He gave you a weak smile as he mirrored your action, “I think I’m alright now,” he said softly as he slowly pulled out of you, “Thank you,” he hovered his lips over your, but stopped.

You had whined when he pulled out of you, but the disappointment quickly vanished when you felt his breath on your lips. Blinking your eyes open, you studied his face close up, closer than you ever had before. “Don’t tell me you’re shy now, Nikolai,” you quipped in a hushed, exhausted voice.

“I just…” he sighed, “I owe you.”

You smiled, “What about the wining and dining me then?” you asked with an amused huff.

That made Nikolai’s face light up, “I love it when you quote me,” his tone dropped as he finally kissed you, “And yes,” he murmured with a smirk.

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aysegust · 1 year

Text

My Light In the Dark. - N.L

A/N: Okay, so this was a request and let me give you a warning... I haven't read Nikolai based books and stuff. I only read SoC and Crooked Kingdom due to something else... I want to read all of the books but It would be probably slowly in time. So this is based on S&B season 2... I hope you'll like my version of him. Have a nice reading! Request: you are having a nightmare in middle of night, you walks as you knock the door, you hear unlock it was nikolai, he was half naked, he seem concern about you, he might be worried as he comfort you as well. *fluffiness* Warnings: A bit angst at start but fluff in the end :) sobachka... Word Count: 1,6K

You were running. As the moonlight caressed your cheek, you were running so fast like your whole life depended on it.

What you felt was so strong. You felt cold sweated fear so deeply as you ran to find him. You were too caught up in the idea that he was just laying on the ground with pale skin, and eyes that shine so brightly went just blank looking at the sky. You were scared about the idea of losing him.

So you ran, you ran to find him to help him. But you couldn’t find him in that damned forest of Ravka as you searched for him. Suddenly, you found yourself in the Little Palace. As you looked at your sides, you saw lights slowly numbed. You didn’t know that you held your breath. You’ve never felt that much fear before. As you searched through Little Palace, you instantly stopped by the dining hall.

You held the doorknob as you pushed it aside as you entered the door. You saw floors covered in bloody footsteps. As you walked quickly inside, you saw a man laying on the floor. You felt your dry throat as you looked at him.

You were in pure shock as you froze at your place. You tried to go to him but something was blocking your way. Darkness flooded into the room, and as you turned behind, you saw Kirigan. “You…” You whispered with such full of rage. “You did this to him!” You yelled as you stepped closer to the boy you adored secretly, laying on the floor, without moving, without consciously. “He is not dead, but will be.” You heard Kirigan’s low but sharp voice.

“As I told you earlier, you should’ve followed my order.” He sighed. “Instead, you betrayed me, to what?” He smirked. “To take sides with the Sun Summoner?”

You looked at him with disgust. “I’ll never follow you. You are the reason why all of us feel pain in this country!” You yelled at him. “You used Grisha’s! You used us.” You felt rage in your veins as you held your hands up to move them in a. sync way, you felt paralyzed.

“You can’t kill me.” He said, then you hear a soft whimper. You turned your gaze to the floor as you saw him. Nikolai. Whispering your name sweetly but with pain. “No!” You screamed.

You wake up in a cold sweat. You looked around and you saw nothing but your room surrounding you. Nothing about darkness, just a soft candle lighting the room. You got up from the bed and you looked at yourself in the mirror.

It was just a dream. You thought. However, when you looked in the mirror in front of you, you felt pathetic. You slowly walked to your restroom to wash your face, you felt the uneasy feeling didn’t go away. So, you exited your room to wander into the palace to find him.

Nikolai and your relationship weren’t exclusive. Well, you weren’t a thing. You were under his command so many years as you knew him as Sturmhond first. You were a Grisha with Corporalki powers. When you were young, they came and took you from your parents. They tested you and found out as you were a Heartrender. You didn’t want to be apart from your parents but they took you away.

Your parents didn’t want you to be tested. However, they were late to figure out your powers. They wanted to hide you from ruthless people, from demanding Grisha’s… But when you grew enough to find a way to escape the Little Palace you took it and then your journey to earning money and finding a place to stay was on his side. He accepted you, into his crew as you found yourself in his ship, improving your skills with Tamar and Tolya, and felt accepted by him.

He wasn’t demanding, or he wasn’t cruel and greedy to you. He was anything opposite what your parents told you about the Lantsov family. He was genuine, sweet, boyishly handsome, and brave but so flirtatious.

In the meantime, as you were in his crew, you liked him through the years as you get to know him. However, you learned he has a flirtatious side, of course. So you didn’t let loose him over your misunderstanding crush on him. So, you stayed silent.

The rest was history.

As you felt yourself deep in thought, you didn’t encounter the idea that you were standing in front of his bedroom door. It was the middle of the night, so if someone would see you it would be probably some servant or guard.

You lightly knocked on the door, with shaky hands. When you didn’t hear something from the inside, you slowly turned away as you sighed.

When you heard a click from the door, you instantly turned around and saw him. He was confused to see you, and when you looked at him, you saw his shirtless body. You immediately turned your gaze onto the floor embarrassed about not respecting his privacy in the middle of the night.

Nikolai sweetly, smirked at you when you lowered your gaze and your blushed cheeks in the dim light. He broke the silence as you looked at him again. “Are you okay?” He asked. Finally, seeing circles under your eyes and when he looked at your eyes, he saw it was glossy and red.

He felt scared as he saw you like that. He immediately held your wrist as you were frightened. “Hey, hey… Y/N look at me.” He whispered and he was slowly pulling you inside his room to not be seen on the outside. You didn’t speak as he talked. “What happened? Are you hurt?” He checked you for a visible wound but he couldn’t find any. “No, I’m okay.” Your voice came out weaker than you expected.

You felt his warm and soft hand stroke your cheek, as you slowly closed your eyes. You felt his worried gaze towards you. “I,” you sighed. “I was having a nightmare.” You finally admitted as you opened your eyes and met with his caring eyes. You felt so safe around him.

“It’s okay, you are safe now.” He said as he leaned forward to you. “Nothing can harm you, I’m here.” You suddenly hugged him as he whispered those words to you. He smiled to himself. “Of course, you don’t need someone to protect you, you are the strongest person that I’ve ever seen, darling.” He said with a genuine concern for you.

You stayed still in his arms, feeling better and loved because of him. His presence always calmed your chaos. And he was the light of your life. He was shinier than the Sun Summoner.

But it wasn’t only you, he thought about it like that too. Nikolai always adored you. In his eyes, you were shining so bright than Alina. You were his light, his sun as you always made him feel appreciated, alright, and safe. He deeply knew he felt something more about you.

You were always in his mind. Sometimes you were whispering sweet things to him or you were bickering about a silly plan he made and well, he enjoyed thinking about you. More than that, he was glad that he found you. With you, he could be himself, more than just a boyishly handsome ‘sobachka’ prince of Ravka. or brave Sturmhond. He could be himself around you… He was in love with you.

He slowly caressed your hair to calm you. “Do you feel better, milaya?” You nodded your head onto his neck. You leaned away from him as you met his gaze. “I saw you.” You paused. “In my nightmare.” You looked deeply into his confused glances. “You were… You were bleeding and,” You closed your eyes as you relived the nightmare.

He held your hands immediately. “Y/N, it’s not real, I’m here.” You didn’t open your eyes. However, you heard his heartbeats. It was calming your nerves. You continued without opening your eyes. “You were laying on the floor and I tried to help you, but… I saw Darkling.” As you opened your eyes to meet his gaze you saw his confused gaze turn into anger. “Did he- come to you? Like how?” He was pissed off about hearing Kirigan destroying your night.

“No, he can’t… I don’t know.” You looked at him again. “We don’t have any connection.” He felt relieved. “I’m here and I’m not interested in going away anywhere from you.” He smiled at you. You looked at him in disbelief.

He smirked at your shocked glances. “You know, I am not this intense with anyone, right?” He asked you as you gave him a confused glance. He put the hair that was touching your face with his hand behind your ear. “I adore you, Y/N.” He said with a precious smile. “And I want my days to be filled with you.” He paused. “You are the reason that I’m still fighting. You are my hope to be a better king. My heart to be a better person and I…” You squeezed his hand. “I love you.” He said as he leaned toward you.

“Nikolai…” You smiled into his mouth. “I have always loved you, and I always will.” He kissed you then. With a kiss that held so much passion and love. You heard his quickened heartbeat as he kissed you so deeply, so sweetly and so gorgeously.

Oh, you love Nikolai Lantsov. You love every little detail about him. His fragile but strong nature… His amazing heart and his gorgeous soul… You adore his jokes and his braveness.

Nikolai meant everything to you. He meant home, he meant you.

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