#Alta platonic x reader

[deadghosy]

🍃🍂🍃🍂

BEING ROOMMATES WITH COLLEGE MODERN AU! AANG:

𓇢𓆸°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･prompt: in a world where the Alta world didn’t have a war and it was just a peaceful modern life.

🎐˚｡⋆୨୧˚being roommates with the avatar as you are just a non bender is either peaceful or chaos.

🎐˚｡⋆୨୧˚oh you’re sleeping in? If classes were cancelled, he’s sleeping in with you as a appa and momo plushie is beside you. If classes weren’t cancelled, he’s sending a light blast of air to your bed to lift you up. You were startled and immediately started chasing Aang around pissed off while he laughs his ass off.

🎐˚｡⋆୨୧˚movie nights are an absolute must. Cause Aang is a person who likes to hang out with people he feels comfortable with. So you better expect him to ask you to choose, he loves to know more about you.

🎐˚｡⋆୨୧˚this man deadass almost burnt the dorm room down and you were panicking until he put it out with his airbending. Aang looks back at you still shaken up. He sighs going over to you, making sure you were okay. He hated to see you scared and he apologized by ordering your favorite food instead.

🎐˚｡⋆୨୧˚Aang could possibly teach you history if you asked him. I mean, he was sealed in ice 100 years ago at most. You would hesitate as this bald headed roommate of yours just wait with a patient smile.

🎐˚｡⋆୨୧˚he does take you to visit the air temple he came from. At the southern air temple, he shows you how he did the air scooter. You laugh and smile until he sped past you making you fall. You got up angrily and chased after him as he laughs.

🎐˚｡⋆୨୧˚this little Mr clean ripoff asshole ate your leftovers once. And for once Aang saw death himself seeing you actually catch up to him around the apartment. AND HE WAS IN AVATAR STATE TRYING TO DODGE YOU THROWING SHOES AT HIM. 😭

🎐˚｡⋆୨୧˚one peaceful day/night was when it was just raining that whole time. You had told Aang that rainy days/nights make you tired fast. So when you fell asleep on the couch while watching tv and listening to the rain, he laid beside you. Having his tall body on you as you snore peacefully. Even momo joined, leaping on Aang’s head. It was just a calm moment the whole night/day.

🎐˚｡⋆୨୧˚if you’re stressed and overstimulated by your classes and work. Aang is literally gonna hug you, and might as well try to do your work for you. He’s such a good friend and roommate. He looks behind him to see you sleeping peacefully with momo. He smiles, feeling happy that you are getting the rest you need.

🎐˚｡⋆୨୧˚now if Aang seemed tired or overstimulated. He’s either being alone, or going into your arms for a hug since a hug is what everyone needs sometimes. He is deadass having his head in your neck and passing out. I feel like the reason why he is just tired is trying to keep the peace in the 4 nations to not make a war happen just in case.

🎐˚｡⋆୨୧˚arguing over who’s answer is right is everyday of your life with him as your roommate. He’s somehow got 11 as an answer on a math question while you got 80 as an answer. You two were about to throw hands until Zuko came by and told you two dumbasses that the real answer was 20…

🎐˚｡⋆୨୧˚if you’re sick at dorm, he’s blowing up your phone while he is at class taking notes. He doesn’t care if he gets scolded or made fun by the gaang for worrying that much about you. He just wants you to get better so he can hug you without getting sick himself. Aang might as well make momo force you to medicine.

🎐˚｡⋆୨୧˚you once accidentally snored on him, Aang snickered of course. But he wrapped his arm around you gently to make sure you won’t wake up or feel uncomfortable. He’s smooth like that.

🎐˚｡⋆୨୧˚after being roommates for like 2 semesters, you guys became close friends. You would wear matching hoodies, shirts, etc. cause Aang is an affectionate person, he wants to make sure you have a friend to lend a shoulder on. He’s that guy who you could talk and rant to for hours and he will listen to you closely.

🎐˚｡⋆୨୧˚you still smack his head as a joke to hear that impact. And yes Aang will blast your ass away from him and put you in ice prison or rock prison from his bending. He’s not playing games. See if you were heavy handed, it’s justified to have you in prison of rock or ice. Now if you were to have your hand wasn’t heavy but light, even if you try to hit hard. Aang is making fun of how “weak” you are.

🎐˚｡⋆୨୧˚imagine how chaotic it would be at night if you two did a horror movie night. Screaming together and just start tweaking out at each jumpscare and every time the suspense was too much. Yeah both of you didn’t sleep until you guys were holding each other closely. With Aang having his arms wrapped around your waist and you having your arms around his neck. You jumped scared at a jumpscare, making you shiver into Aang’s neck. Aang had enough and turned the movie off, picking you up bridal style and taking you to bed.

🎐˚｡⋆୨୧˚that time when Aang had his hair grown out, you tried to do small baby pig tails with his short hair. Aang relaxes at your touch as he almost falls asleep until you were done. “Ta-da! I’m done, go look bro.” You say patting his cheek. He lifted his head from your lap and walked to the bathroom mirror. He must say, he did look absolutely funny. But he looked “fabulous” is what you said. That was until he shaved his hair again to match his culture.

🎐˚｡⋆୨୧˚i feel like being roommates personally with Aang would actually be calm sometimes. Considering you two have such chemistry together during these college times. He definitely has an album of you on his phone. He’s the type of friend to remember everything about you specially. And not in a weird way but like a “okay noted, get them this favorite snack when they are in a bad mood” way. But mostly he takes selfies with you by his side. Hide all you want. You are not missing this selfie.

🎐˚｡⋆୨୧˚if there’s a fair around, he’s getting you all the stuff animals. You would have to drag him away from his yellow and red hoodie from the shotgun game. You were embarrassed by the stares people got at how the avatar was getting dragged by a simple adult man/woman like you. But honestly it’s fun with Aang at a fair cause he makes sure you have fun as well. Sharing cotton candy was the first thing in his mind as he pays the person and holds the cotton candy. You felt flustered sharing the cotton candy cone from his hand as he just laughs at how cute you seemed.

🎐˚｡⋆୨୧˚Aang and you definitely had been asked if you guys are together. You would immediately try to tell the person no as Aang is trying to either process the accusation, or make it worse by telling them that you both are. Playfully of course.

🎐˚｡⋆୨୧˚taking calm summer walks, and that summer air just hitting your face and his. It’s just relaxing. You two talk to each other, probably wanting to go to republic city for shopping for more groceries or such. You notice the sun setting as you smile, the golden ray of sun hitting your face. Aang looks at you lovingly while you talk about how beautiful the sun is. Aang agrees, still looking at you whilst you two sit down on the soft green grass.

[thatonepersonwhocantwrite]

Little one

Platonic Korra x reader family Tenzin, Bumi and Kya x sibling Gn! Airbender reader

Summary You used to visit your mom Katara and Korra but stopped when Korra was 12 so you could do some traveling. You see her later in Republic city.

You were the twin of Kya. The child of Aang and Katara. You should have seen the look of excitement Aang had on his face the first time he held you. He was even more excited when he discovered you and your younger brother Tenzin were Airbenders like him.

Flashback to a 12 year old Korra

" Y/n do you HAVE to go?" Little Korra asked holding onto your legs tightly as you leaned onto your Sky bison for support. Korra was surprisingly strong for a 12 year old. " Now now little one I promise our paths will cross again ." You replied prying her off your legs and giving her a bear hug before turning to face your mother and giving her a lighter hug. " You're father would be proud of you of the person you have become. " Katara said. " Thank you mom." You replied. Before you could get on your sky bison Korra stopped you. " Pinky promise we'll see each other again?" She asked sticking out her pinky. " Pinky promise we'll see each other again little one." You replied looping your pinky with hers. You gave Korra one last hug before hopping on your sky bison and flying away.

Flashback over

That had been 5 years ago. It's been 5 years since you've been to republic city since you've seen any of your family or Korra. Lin had manged to get in touch with you somehow and asked you to come back. When you got to the station you forgot your arrows were covered since you didn't want to draw any attention nothing bad would happen if you did draw attention you just didn't feel the need for attention right now.

When you walked to Lins work office you saw 4 young teens 2 females and 2 males. One of the females looked alot like...." Korra ?" You asked. " I'm sorry do I know you?" Korra asked. " Ouch has it really been that long?.... Little one." You replied taking off your bandana covering your arrows on your head. " Y/n? Is that really you?" Korra questions. You nodded your head yes and Korra excitedly ran up to you and gave you a bear hug almost knocking you down in the process.

" Hi Korra it's been to long. I missed you." You said hugging her tightly back. " I missed you too. " Korra cried happy tears into your shirt. Happy to see you again happy that you kept your promise you made years ago with her.

[ellewritesalright]

Nine Long Years - Part 3

Nikolai Lantsov x Rietveld!reader, Kaz Brekker x sister!Rietveld!reader (platonic)

Part 2 --- Masterlist --- Part 4

Synopsis: After watching your brothers die, you found yourself working on the Volkvolny. In the many years since then, you somehow became the queen of Ravka while your brother somehow survived firepox and life in the Barrel, rising through its ranks. In disguise during a diplomatic trip with your husband Nikolai, you meet Kaz Brekker for what you think is the first time, only to find out that he is your long-thought-dead little brother.

Author's Note: Hello and welcome to one of the saddest things I've ever written. The next part will be a little lighter I promise. Also the next part will not be the last, this story might go one for another like three or four parts lmao.

Warnings: Death, Lots Of Angst, mentions of vomiting, panic attacks, firepox and illness, mentions of the Hertzoon con.

Word Count: 6,000

..........

FOURTH YEAR

"You're lost, and I'm the one who will pay for it!" 

"I am not lost. We're in the woods of West Ravka," Sturmhond said plainly.

"Oh, really?" You exclaimed, wanting nothing more than to smack him upside the head. "I didn't know that, Captain. And here I thought we were in the Wandering Isle!"

He ignored your sarcasm, forging ahead. You followed like an idiot with nothing better to do. No, only one of you was an idiot, and it wasn't you, the person who'd said to steer clear of those Drüskelle for Tolya and Tamar's sake. Your captain was very much the idiot, and now you were separated from the twins and wandering in what felt like an entirely aimless manner.

You had objected to the trip from the very start. Sturmhond wanted to go to Ravka to expand his communication network--for what reason, you did not know. He seemed to already know everything that happened in the Grand Palace even when he was thousands of miles away; surely there was a line of communication to his family, if that's what he was worried about.

But no, he insisted that he needed informants from all over Ravka, not only Os Alta. So he decided to rope you, Tolya, and Tamar into a little "business trip" as he put it. You didn't want to go, but he made it seem vital that you be there as his trusted second in command. Part of you only agreed because you wanted to see more of Ravka than just its ports; you had a fascination with the country. The interest stemmed from your time with Old Lady Trokowsky and the stories she told of her homeland. She made the vast country sound beautiful with its rivers and mountains and forests and tundra; you had only ever known the field and the city between your youth at your family's farm and the bustle of Ketterdam.

Still–despite your excitement at seeing Ravka–the fact that he dragged you out here only to get you lost and split up from the twins made you want to wring his neck.

"Fucking scoundrel," you muttered to yourself in your native tongue.

"You swear like a sailor," Sturmhond said in Kerch, slipping into the language with the refined lilt of a well-tutored prince. His words made your blood boil, and you sent him a glare. Honestly, it was like he made it his job to irritate you.

"I am a sailor."

He dared to laugh. "An apt assessment."

The two of you traveled until the woods gave way to a field of overgrown grass and miserable-looking crops. You stopped at a barn that looked like it might collapse at any moment as you looked past the field at the main house. It looked just as decrepit as the barn.

"You stay here, I'll check out the house," he said.

"Like hell I'm staying here," you argued, starting off towards the house.

Sturmhond muttered something snippy beneath his breath, and you glared at him over your shoulder. Despite his muttering, he still followed you.

You took the main floor as Sturmhond took the upstairs. There was nothing useful to you inside, but through the front window you spotted a well. You went outside and drank and splashed your face with the water before Sturmhond emerged with some blankets and a few dry matches.

"The place is pretty picked over," he said after taking a turn drinking the water. "But it looked like someone might have been squatting there recently, so I'd rather not run into them if they come back." 

You gave him a sour look which he easily deflected. "You want us to stay in the barn, don't you?"

He made no apology or a sheepish look of any sort, though he really should have. This was all his fault.

You shook your head and went back to the field. The crops were mostly unsalvageable, but once you searched the grass you found some gourds that had managed to survive without care. You cut them from their stems and brought them to the barn where Sturmhond had travelled off to.

He was setting the blankets over two beds of hay. You sighed at the sleeping arrangement. You were so used to your cabin on the Volkvolny now, and you dearly missed your real bed.

"I haven't been camped out like this since my army days," he said. "The nostalgia is almost nice."

The last time you'd slept without a real roof over your head was when you were on the streets of the Barrel, and you had no desire to reminisce on those days. You started building a fire with some scraps of wood Sturmhond must have gathered.

"Do you miss the army?" You asked him this question to keep your mind off the cold cobbles of Ketterdam.

"Sometimes. My family was proud of me then," he confessed. "They liked that their son was fighting for his country, but they liked it even more because I was good at it. My mother would brag to the court about how her son was the youngest Major in the First Army."

He sat beside the fire you started. 

"What about you? Does this barn remind you of your home?"

You pursed your lips. "Our barn wasn't quite as big." 

He nodded, letting the topic lapse as he knew you wouldn't divulge more information.

It was completely silent–save for the crickets–as you ate. The sun slowly set in an orange haze, and you had to admit the view was pretty. But once it was gone the air turned cold, a tell-tale of a long and miserable night.

……….

You shivered awake. The cold was something you hadn't borne since the nights you and your brothers spent on the streets of the Barrel. It leeched through your veins like the freezing northern waters of the True Sea. You were too numb to move your body, and you could only rub your arms to keep warm. Then you heard Sturmhond speak.

"We're going to freeze to death out here," he said, his teeth chattering.

"An apt assessment," you responded.

"I shouldn't have made our beds so far from each other."

"I'm not moving them now. I think my legs are frozen through."

You heard him get up, and in the next moment he was standing beside your bed, his blanket around him. Your eyebrows scrunched together as he nudged you.

You snapped at him, “What?”

“Move over,” he said, nudging you again.

“You’re not sleeping beside me on this shitty little bed.”

“I made that shitty little bed, thank you very much, and it’s either I sleep beside you or we both spend a night in frozen agony on separate beds and get killed on our travels tomorrow because we're too exhausted to think properly." He nudged you once more. “Now, move over.”

With a frown, you rolled onto your side, making space for Sturmhond to lay down beside you. He pulled his blanket over the two of you and huddled closer to you. His hand was shaking as he slowly brought his arm around you. When you didn't elbow him in the ribs he slunk closer to you.

He gave you some warmth as he rested against you, but he was still shivering and it made sleeping beside him more than a little uncomfortable. So with extreme hesitancy, you grabbed his shaky hand in yours and drew it close to your chest. He stilled for a second, but then you felt him chuckle, his arms softening. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding as the cold in your veins ebbed.

“Not so bad, now is it?” He said lowly, his voice close to your ear.

“Shut up, you twat.”

……….

In the morning, neither of you spoke about the night before, though you could tell Sturmhond wanted to. He kept staring at you and then looking away when you caught him.

You woke up with your face in his chest and your hands gripping his shirt for dear life. He was still asleep, and you thanked the saints that you were spared the humiliation of being caught in that position. You slipped away from your bed before he awoke and went to find food. The whole morning was spent dancing around the sleeping arrangements of the prior night.

You had no idea how you'd survive the rest of this unexpected journey.

After you ate, the pair of you packed up your things and took to a road off of the farm. It was a long and lonely walk, but after forty minutes you reached a village.

Sturmhond posted a letter to an address in Novokribirsk, a contact in the network that he had been building before your untimely encounter with Drüskelle. The contact would reach Tolya and Tamar and the four of you would be reunited soon enough, or so Sturmhond assured you. But, for now, you were to lay low in the village. 

There was the issue of where you would stay, but Sturmhond left you in a pub to order food and said he would sort it out. When he returned the first thing he did was grab your hand. You narrowed your eyes at him as he slipped a ring on your finger and pressed his lips to your knuckles. You had half a mind to punch him with your new ring, but you held off because of the people around you. There was no need to attract attention, especially when you were supposed to be laying low.

"Hello, my dear," he said, sitting down. "You should be more excited that I found your misplaced wedding ring, you know."

"I'm over the moon," you told him, rubbing a thumb over the flat gold band. Sturmhond had worn it since the first day you met him, but it fit you surprisingly well for a hand-me-down.

He hummed in response, picking up his knife and fork. You followed suit, suspicious and slightly confused, but too hungry to bother. 

On the walk through the village, he held your hand and explained to you that he told the innkeeper he was spending a few days in town with his wife.

"He seemed the old-fashioned type so I thought he might start asking questions about the two young people sharing a room." He gave your hand a squeeze. "This was easier."

"Alright, but why did you have to kiss my hand in the pub and why insist on holding hands now?" 

He flashed you a smile, his green eyes crinkling a bit. "We'll be stuck here for who knows how long; we have to keep up appearances."

You weren't thrilled about this, but you nodded to yourself. "Fine. What are we to be called?"

"Pytor and Ilse Ivanov. I gave you a Kerch name to explain away your accent."

"And here I thought my Ravkan accent was perfect."

"It's passable at best."

"Now you tell me."

When you arrived at the inn, you learned that Sturmhond was right about the innkeeper. The man had a razor-sharp stare on your hand, eager to spot a ring. Only then did he give you a polite nod. 

When you got to your room you weren't surprised to find a double bed instead of two singles, yet the sight of it still made you frown. You didn't want a repeat of last night in the barn and the embarrassment that came along with it.

"One bed," you commented.

"It's more cost-effective." He took off his drab coat; brown was an odd colour for him. "Plus, I thought you wouldn't mind seeing as we've slept together before."

He phrased it like that just to see you squirm, you were sure of it, but instead of giving him a reaction, you walked into the bathroom where you promptly began muttering swears at him in Kerch; he would still understand them, and you would still be giving him some kind of reaction, but you were too tired to bottle it up completely. 

You were glad to scrub off your travels with a warm bath. While you were at the pub, Sturmhond booked this room and went to a nearby shop to pick out an outfit for the both of you, so you were able to change into something clean, thank the saints. Once finished, you sat in a chair by the window as Sturmhond took your place in the bathroom. You started reading a slim book he also purchased. 

He'd spoken of cost-efficiency, and yet here he was making unnecessary purchases.

When he came out of the bathroom he looked rather put-together. The sight wasn't what you were used to from him. He was usually a rugged scoundrel, but right now he looked almost respectable with his face clean and his hair slicked back from the water. It wasn't a bad change, especially not when the ties at the top of his shirt were open and you could see droplets trailing his chest.

What was it about him with his shirt undone that sought to poison your mind? You ignored the warmth creeping up your neck as best as you could and returned your attention to the book. 

He was your captain–your employer–and you would not get more involved with him than you already were. A freezing night spent in each other's arms was one thing, but actually pining over him was something else entirely. 

And then there was the issue of his feelings toward you. You knew he liked you as more than a captain liked their second--he had practically told you that night in the Ketterdam harbours--but you couldn't encourage his crush. It wouldn't be right to lead him on when you did not intend to be with him.

"What are you doing?" He asked, leaning against the bed post.

"What does it look like I'm doing?"

"I mean, how are you--a lovely sailor from Kerch--reading a book in Old Ravkan?"

You turned your page. "Because I know Old Ravkan."

He chuckled to himself, laying down on the bed. "Never a real answer with you, is it?" Once he was settled against the pillows he spoke, "Read to me."

"Was that a request or an order?"

"That book is the entirety of our entertainment budget and I'm frightfully bored just sitting here with nothing to do, so read it to me, please."

You rolled your eyes and flipped back to the beginning, reading it aloud this time. He listened peacefully, staring at the ceiling as he laid back. After a while, you peered over and his eyes were shut, so you closed the book and climbed into your side of the bed.

"Why'd you stop?" He asked, definitely not asleep. 

"It's late and that book isn't very long. We have to pace ourselves since we're stuck here until further notice."

"It should only be a few days, a week at the most."

"Still," you said, "it'll be done and we'll be bored out of our minds."

"It's nice being read to." He turned on his side to face you. "It didn't happen much in my childhood; the nanny said I was too impatient to sit still and listen, though I suspect she just didn't want to read through the boring histories that collected dust on the shelf. But besides that, your voice is pleasant to listen to."

"I used to read to one of our neighbours. She was Ravkan."

"And I presume she's the reason you know Old Ravkan," he speculated, a light smile tracing his lips.

"Wouldn't you like to know," you teased.

"That's the thing," he said, his hand reaching for yours. "I'd like to know everything about you."

The sincerity in his eyes had you at a loss, and you pulled your hand away. Facing the wall, you murmured goodnight and turned out your lantern.

……….

You started your second day in the village with arms around you. Sturmhond couldn't keep to himself when he slept, and he was leaning the entirety of his weight into your side as you lay there on your back. Your head was tilted towards him when you opened your eyes, and you could see the top of his head from this position. His red roots were no longer red, a blond colour bleeding into his hair.

It seemed strange to you that his real hair colour was blond, but you supposed it wouldn't not suit him; he seemed like he could sport any look. 

A part of you was interested to see his real face and hair. Though it might pose problems if the people in the village caught on to his changing appearance. Worse still, they could recognize him as prince Nikolai and ransom him or commit some other terrible act. You were stuck in West Ravka, after all, and there was not as much support for the royal family to be found on this side of the fold.

When he woke up he didn't immediately remove himself from you. He slowly looked up at you, meeting your waiting stare.

"I'm surprised you didn't push me away," he said, a smirk encroaching on his features.

"My arm is numb from being trapped by you, how could I ever manage to push you away?" You asked. He still hadn't shifted, but you moved the conversation along anyways. "There's an issue with your hair."

"I've only just woken up," he grumbled. "You should see your hair."

You glared at him. "That's not what I meant, idiot. You're going blond."

That got him up. He hurried to the mirror in the corner of the room and peered at his hair. "Tolya re-tailors my hair and face every week. I'll probably be back to myself by the time we see him again."

"Will people here recognize you if you look like yourself?" you asked, rubbing the feeling back into your arm.

"They might." 

"Then maybe you should stay inside. I can bring you meals and--"

"I can't stay inside," he complained. "I'll go crazy being pent up in here."

"What other choice is there?"

He pursed his lips. "You could get me a hat. And a scarf for my face. Maybe some glasses for when my eyes change."

"We'll be spending too much money."

"How about we stay here one more night so we can hear back from Tolya and Tamar then move on to another village tomorrow?" He sat down beside you on the bed, reaching for your hand again. What was it with him and holding your hand?

"How many nights did you pay the innkeeper for?"

"Two."

You gave him a look. "You knew we would be leaving."

"Preposterous." He waved you off with a smile. "It's nothing but a happy coincidence, my dear."

You stood and went into the bathroom. His antics were getting on your nerves.

He called after you, "I wasn't joking about that hat, though. By tomorrow I'll be blond again."

..........

FIRST YEAR

Sleeping on the streets was less than ideal, but it was the only way you could stay with your brothers.

Working reception at the Exchange barely afforded you lodgings with one bed, and the houses you had looked at were strict with their tenants. Lodging houses were either split in gender, meaning your brothers wouldn't be allowed to join you, or they had a ratio rule of beds to people so renting for three was impossible. You were saving your money for a sufficient room for your family, and the Kruge that would help you do so felt heavy in your pockets.

After the Hertzoon scheme that Jordie talked you into fell through you insisted that you should be the one responsible for what little money the Rietvelds had left. Jordie couldn't argue much, and the money he and Kaz scrounged in odd jobs always went straight to you. 

Tonight as you shivered on a bridge, staring at the Barrel flash and hoping for one moment of rest, you felt particularly run-down. You had to look presentable and clean for your office job, yet it was easier said than done when you were living on the streets. You knew a woman from work who was kind enough to let you get ready at her house every morning, but she was not kind enough to do more than that. She had once offered you a room in her home, but when you asked if your brothers could come with you she shook her head. 

"Not enough space for rambunctious boys," she'd said.

"But they're not like that," you defended. "They behave very well."

"Look, I can take you alone or I can't take you at all."

In the end, you chose to stay with your brothers. They needed you, and you wouldn't leave them. You couldn't.

Kaz was slumped over in your lap, and even Jordie was leaning against your arm. The elder of the two wasn't asleep, but he had lost enough pride that he was no longer too good to cuddle up to his big sister. He would pass into a realm of bad dreams soon enough, though, and it would only be you staring at the gaudy lights.

It was the early morning, and in a few hours you would make your way to the more respectable neighbourhoods and enter through a backdoor so that none of the neighbours saw a Barrel rat coming into your associate's house. You would emerge respectable-looking, walk to the Exchange and scribe letters and brew coffee all day, then you would meet your brothers at the abandoned coffeehouse and try to find a safe place to sleep for the night.

It was the same as it always was, and you left as the sun started rising, shifting Kaz into Jordie's arms. They would try to find work during the day, but you imagined all they would find was trouble. It was the Barrel, after all, and there was no place there for little boys with decent hearts.

When you met up with them the sun was setting. There was the issue of dinner, and you shared something unfulfilling from a street vendor. You took the smallest portion because you always did. They fed you lunch at your work, but you never knew what your brothers might have had during the day. Every morning you left them enough money for one meal shared but it was hard to say what they could have gotten.

Kaz was against your side as soon as he saw you, and he barely separated himself once you were eating your dinner. He sat next to you, packing food into his mouth like a squirrel about to hole up for winter; you had to remind him to slow down. 

Jordie didn't have that issue tonight. He ate with small bites, as though the taste of it was abhorrent. It wasn't particularly bad, and saints knew you all had eaten worse from the street vendors of the Barrel, so you looked your brother over with wary eyes. When you pressed your hand to his forehead and he barely swatted at you, you knew something was amiss. He was burning up, and in the dim light you could see a patch of inflamed skin on his neck.

Firepox.

You had contracted it as an infant and survived, meaning you would be immune to it now, but Kaz and Jordie had never been exposed to the detrimental disease. You tried to contain your panic as you watched Jordie's eyes gloss over.

He was sick, and there was only so much you would be able to do for him. When you were sick with it, your parents had paid an arm and a leg for a Grisha Healer to keep you alive, but it cost them for many years. Now your remaining family was impoverished and without so much as a roof over your heads, and there was no way you would be able to pay for a Healer or university medik. 

You just prayed that Kaz wasn't infected yet, but it was unlikely he would be unscathed. They spent every day together. You let Kaz sleep in his brother's arms, for saint’s sake. There was no way that if Jordie was sick then Kaz wouldn't soon be sick as well.

"I can't finish this," Jordie said, pushing his portion away from himself. "It hurts my throat."

You scooped up his food before your littlest brother could reach for it, mixing it in with yours. Kaz frowned but said nothing as you kept eating.

You couldn't sleep at all that night. Tucked away in a narrow alcove, you kept Kaz on one side and Jordie on the other. He was coughing, a raspy noise that only got worse as the night went on. It was keeping him up, too, even though he needed the sleep if he was to recover. Kaz was safe in your arms, with no symptoms popping up yet but plenty of time for them to make an appearance. 

"It's firepox, isn't it?" Jordie wheezed as a gondel of masked revellers passed. 

"It is," you said, grabbing his hand. "But don't worry, we'll figure something out."

You had no idea what you could do for your brother but your reassurance was enough at that moment, and when you left the boys in the early morning they were both asleep, propped against opposite sides of the alcove.

When you saw them again at the end of the next day, Kaz was sluggish and Jordie was still glossy-eyed. They sat on the ground in front of the coffeehouse, skin burning up. You brought them dinner, but neither of them ate much. For once, you had a full belly, but you felt so sick with worry that you could have emptied it into the canals. 

You slept in the cover of a wall of wooden crates for the rest of the week, and you didn't bother trying to keep your brothers apart. As much as it pained you to think about it, there wasn't much hope for them to survive. You figured if they were going to die they might as well die in familiar arms. You couldn’t give them much, but you could at least give them the comfort of each other.

From then on your family stayed beside the piled-up crates your brothers had named the Nest. You would finish work every day and hurry to them, checking on their worsening conditions before finding dinner and forcing them to eat.

Kaz still attached himself to you like a leech, but his arms were weaker now and when he coughed you could feel his little body shake from head to toe. Jordie had abandoned all his pride and allowed himself the comfort of your arms in his last days. He seemed to know better than Kaz that you wouldn't be able to do anything more for them besides bringing hot chocolate and reciting old bedtime stories. One day you bought a vial of pain relief made by an alkemi, slipped it in their hot chocolates and prayed that it would do something to help them, but it only numbed some of their pain.

The fever did not wane and the cough did not subside. They were still terribly sick, and it was your fault. You hadn't kept them safe like Da had told you to. And now you would lose your brothers in a matter of days, maybe even hours; they were completely pale and clammy, and they both could hardly stay awake.

Every time you approached them after work or when you were bringing them food you had to brace yourself for the fact that they could be dead. And yet, all the preparation in the world couldn’t have made the sight of it any less terrifying.

It was only a week after Jordie had initially fallen ill; you were coming back from the university where you unsuccessfully begged a medik for aid. There was dread in your step, and you had taken to speaking to any saint who might be listening to protect your brothers. Your family wasn’t raised religious, yet you recited every blessing and prayer Old Lady Trokowsky had uttered in front of you. They were made in vain, though, you realized as you finally saw their lifeless bodies. A sob struck you and you fell to your knees, trying to rouse them awake, trying to bring them back to life, but it was no use.

They were dead. 

Though they were limp in your arms, you couldn’t help but hold your brothers. You should have been there when they passed, should have kissed their sweaty foreheads and whispered that it would be alright. But you weren’t there.

You added this to the long list of things you would never forgive yourself for; it would be right at the top. 

You huddled close to them for a long time, breathing in grime and sweat and the residual filth of the Barrel; it was the smell of death.

When the body men came through you had trouble parting with your only family, but after a bit of coaxing, you let go of them. No matter how badly you wanted to look away, to focus on anything besides their limp bodies, you forced yourself to watch them be rolled onto the sickboat. They deserved your attention at that moment, even if it pained you to see them rowed away. 

Then–hours after they were gone and you felt strong enough to move–you wandered up the streets, stopping only to vomit into the canal every so often. It was pitch dark by the time you reached the abandoned fifth harbour, and you were only dry-heaving. You sat there and stared at the boats. Your vision was blurry, your tears had not dried, but that didn’t matter. There was no one to remain strong for, so for the first time in forever, you were allowed to fall apart.

..........

FOURTH YEAR

Trembling awake, you sucked in a halting breath. You could see the dull blue wallpaper on the walls. You weren’t in Ketterdam, you weren't huddled against some crates in the streets of the Barrel; you were in a cheap little inn settled in a small town just outside of Novokribirsk.

A hand met your shoulder, and you turned to see Sturmhond's worried eyes in the dark. Without a second thought, you clambered into his arms, welcoming the comfort of his embrace. He smelled of soap and pine, and you were able to shake the scent of death from your head. You couldn't get the image of them being nudged onto the sickboat out of your mind though. How they rolled along the cobbles at the prodding of the bodymen's hooks.

Another shudder went through you and you squeezed Sturmhond tighter. He was sitting up, so you were practically in his lap, but you couldn't care less at that moment.

As always, you were completely unprepared for the nightmare recount of your brothers' deaths. It happened every so often, and you would normally cry alone and wait until morning for things to get better, but this time someone was willing to help you through it.

He leaned his cheek against your head, whispering to you that it would be okay.

"I'm here," he kept repeating. "I'm here."

He held you as your breathing slowly levelled out and you opened your teary eyes. He rubbed circles into your back and swayed back and forth in gentle motions.

It had been so long since you were held this way. Even when you had a living family it was usually you who was doing the cradling, whether that be Kaz on a stormy night, or Jordie when you were kids and he'd broken his arm. Or when they died, you thought with a near-retch.

You swallowed the bile in your throat and forced yourself not to think of that. Focusing instead on the lull of Sturmhond's heartbeat, you were able to distract yourself. It was more than unprofessional to be in his arms like this, yet you didn’t want to be anywhere else. He felt so warm, and after the bitter chill of your memories, you could do with some of that warmth. 

……….

You didn’t remember falling asleep, but you must have because suddenly it was morning and you were still lying in Sturmhond's arms. He had barely moved, simply settling the two of you down against the pillows. His shirt was soft against your face, and you pinched the fabric between your fingers, tethering yourself to the world around you through the white linen. Despite how small they were, your movements woke him, and his grip tightened around you for a second then relaxed again. He was a light sleeper.

“Good morning,” he murmured, his cheek resting against your head as it had in the night.

You should have slipped out of his arms and asserted that it was wrong to be so close to each other for the sake of your working relationship, but your position on the matter hadn’t changed since last night when you hurriedly sought his arms.

Maybe it was a defect of being away from the ship for too long, but you simply didn't care anymore about your working relationship. It was a crazy notion–a notion that made so little sense to you yet somehow made more sense than breathing. Suddenly it didn't matter if things would become awkward or stilted between the two of you; he was cozy and warm, and for the first time in so long you were completely comfortable.

Sturmhond shifted, moving down the mattress so that he could be at eye level with you. He studied your face like a book, reading every line with careful consideration. You thought you might collapse under the weight of his stare, but you held steady. When he finally spoke his voice was low and calm.

“Can I ask you about last night?” He inquired.

Dropping your eyes, you let out a breath. You knew there was an explanation to be had, but you weren’t sure you could give it. For so long you had hidden your past, and now it was jumping out at you. 

“I only want to help you,” he said, closing a hand around yours. “You were thrashing and kept repeating ‘don't die, don't die.’ If I'm being honest, it scared me. Please, just tell me what’s wrong.”

A heavy breath escaped you and you clamped your eyes shut. He wanted to know why you had woken up in the dead of the night, thrashing and sick to your stomach. He wouldn't have to pry–though you were sure he was too polite to pry anyway--because he deserved an explanation for the circumstance in which you willingly sought his arms.

And so you buried your face in his shoulder as you slowly told him everything. You outlined your move to Ketterdam with your brothers, how you had been swindled out of your money, how they’d gotten sick, and how you were powerless to help them.

It took a while, especially since you began crying halfway through. It came out in stuttered, breathy sobs, and you couldn’t look at him the entire time. His shoulder was wet with tears, and you held tight to his shirt.

"It's not your fault," he said once you had finished.

"Didn't you hear a word I said?" You rubbed your eyes. "It is my fault."

"It was an outbreak of firepox. You were in no way responsible for that."

"But I was supposed to look out for my brothers, Sturmhond." You sat up, slipping from his grip. "I should have kept them away from it!"

"You did everything you could," he insisted, leaning forward and gently setting his hand on your back. "I've read about firepox. It's not easily contained or cured. You did the best you could in a bad situation."

"It wasn't enough."

You slumped back down in resignation and he followed. After a moment you sought his arms again. He sighed and gave up trying to convince you of your innocence in the situation. For now, he just held you as he had for hours and hours. 

……….

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

Part 4

Taglist:

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[thebigsl33p]

A Safe Pair of Hands

Aleksander Morozova X Reader (can be read as platonic or romantic. Neutral grisha Fem!reader)

Winter in Ravka comes fast. And it stays. It blankets the ground in thick white snow, freezes the soil and puts frost on window panes. The only time it seems to stop snowing in the city is the early morning, just before the sun properly rises, there is always a slight reprieve in the falling snow.

That's when he wakes. Like clockwork, every winter morning. He finds the fire from the night before has long died in the hearth, and the Palace floors are cold beneath his feet, even as he cleans himself and pulls on his dark Kefta and heavy boots in preparation for the day ahead.

By the time the rest of the city wakes, he's already working, his hands meticulously writing letters and commands with a face like stone.

As the early morning sun rises the city swells with sound and smells, of mulled wines and drinking chocolate, sweet nuts and cinnamon. On one street you can hear both the sounds of celebratory folk songs and the wails of an ill child. In the streets and the homes people bundle up as well as they can, food turns from being light and easy to being warm and hearty.

And still, he works.

That is until, his study door is pushed open in a familiar creak and a H/C haired woman walks in with a lazy grin. She's soft and smiling, her E/C eyes are so very alive with a blatant love for life.

"Y/N," The Darkling says her name softly, setting down his quill as she enters the room. She's holding two cups of hot chocolate, one for herself and one inevitably for him. She sets it down on his desk and comes to stand behind him, peering over his shoulder at his work, "Thank you," he uttered.

"No problem." She says nonchalantly, and she leans forward, her fingers gently pulling a map out from underneath the letter he's writing, "Working already? it's barely 8:30, Aleks." she says with a fond, exasperated, sigh.

He responds with his own amused huff, "You know how it is, Y/N." He says simply, running a hand through his dark hair - pushing it off his face in doing so. He feels the chair he's sitting in shift slightly as she rests her arms on the back of it - the only person who could get away with such a thing.

"You working all day?" She inquires, eyebrows raising slightly as she sips her drink.

"Perhaps." His hands reach for his own cup, barely feeling the warmth of the mug for his thick leather gloves, "Depends, really." He says.

"On what?" She tilted her head around to get a better look at him, her eyebrows narrowing in playful inquisition.

He knew her well. Knew, she only ever asked if he was working all day, when she wanted to do something. Something with him, inevitably.

"Depends what it is you want to drag me into now," He said, in mock annoyance, but mostly amusement.

"Oh, cmon it's a lovely day Aleksand-"

"It's snowing."

"A lovely winter's day, then." She folds her arms, leaning down to his ear to teasingly whisper, in a persuasive sing-song lilt, "Os Alta will be a wonder to see in the cold. And you don't get out enough."

"We'll both be stared at like art exhibitions," he answered, gruff and dryly, "Everything we do-"

"Not in the market we won't." she challenged, "Oh, come on Aleksander. One winter market. It'll be good fun, promise."

And that's how he ended up here, his arm linked with hers as they walked through the annual Winter Market. His boots crunched the snow beneath them, his large dark cloak creating a striking figure of darkness in a crowd of bright festive colours. And her beside him, in her (Grisha Colour) Kefta, and her cloak. Without thinking much about it he tucks the hand around his arm into the crook of it and murmurs, half-scoldingly, "I told you to bring your gloves."

She simply hums a soft, half-listening, "Yeah." She's so distracted by the market, the foods, the people, the jewellery, the clothes, the music. It's something she's seen all her life, every winter, but it takes her breath away nonetheless.

"Y/N," he huffs, shaking his head in mock sternness and disappointment.

"What?!" She laughs, turning to face him with a smile, "I'm sorry. I forgot, okay? Besides, I'll be fine. I'll survive." She says with a grin.

He rolls his eyes and scoffs, but absentmindedly caresses her hands in a slight attempt to keep her warm... or warmer than she is.

As the day progresses, he finds himself being dragged to various stalls and stands, Y/N already with coin in her hand to pay for whatever sweet treat she's decided they'll share. ...And for once, he lets her.

And so, they walk back to the Little Palace, arm in arm, with a paper bag of sugared nuts between them, having spent the day snacking on various hot chocolates and mulled wines, reviewing different wrapping papers and potential gifts, trying different meats, vegetables and cheeses with soft laughter as the snow fell upon them.

And now as the sun sets early, they walk back. Her hand is still tucked into the warm crook of his arm, and they're laughing together about something or other. In that moment, he's glad the street is empty. No guards, no nobles, no royals or other Grisha. It's just her and him, and for once, in the snow and in the soft winter dusk, he can simply exist as her Aleksander. Her Sasha.

He knows, that when they get back to the Little Palace, she'll kick off her snow covered boots by his study door - despite his insistence she doesn't need to - and she'll enter his study. She'll throw a few extra logs into the hearth as he takes off his Kefta and hangs it up, before they both take their places on the loveseat by the fireplace.

She laughs at something he says, the snowflakes catching on her eyelashes, in her hair, on her nose. For a moment, he allows himself to feel sentimental - a sudden rush of relief and appreciation for human connection. He leans down, and as her eyes and nose wrinkle in her laughter, he presses a soft kiss to her cheek.

it catches her slightly, and she finishes her laughter with a soft content sigh, gives his arm a slight squeeze, and they continue their winter walk home.

A/N: HI I HAVEN'T WRITTEN IN SO LONG!! finally got a new laptop so I am working today, working. Working hard so I can please you. (I'm really sorry if you don't know what this is)

[nalie-1998]

De Sombra y Polvo

Nikolai Lantsov x platonic!fem!reader.

Advertencias: Angustia, monstruos, sombra, fuego, incendio, derrumbamiento, sangre, llanto, Nikolai siendo un amor.

Era de noche, y el paso del sol había dejado la aldea hundida en la noche. Apenas habian pasado un par de horas desde que te habías ido a dormir a tu cama, pero tu padre te había levantado a altas horas de la noche. Todavía estabas algo dormida y la confusión ante lo que le pasaba a tu padre no ayudaba a la situación.

Nunca le habías visto tan alterado, con manos temblorosas y mirada completamente abierta, sus movimientos eran rápidos, casi frenéticos. Y sus ojos... estaban llenos de miedo, dándote escalofríos y haciendote saber que algo andaba teriblemente mal.

Intentaste darte prisa mientras cogías tu mochila y lo seguías afuera, topándote con el puro caos.

No veías absolutamente nada, escuchabas gritos de personas y chillidos erráticos que no podían provenir de un ser vivo natural.

Se veían luces de antorchas en la oscuridad, demasiado difuminados en la sombra como para llegar a servir de algo.

Lo único a lo que llegabas a alcanzar era a tu padre, que te había cogido de la mano para no perderte. Echando a andar todo lo rápido que podían, intentando huir del caos.

Viste un volcra salir volando por encima tuya, atacando a un grupo de personas que teníais a varios pasos más.

Diste gracias de no ver al monstruo atacar cuando tu padre tiró de tu mano.

-Mi cielo, sé que estás cansada, pero tenemos que irnos ya- tu padre, con una bolsa en el hombro, luchaba por arrastrarte más rápido por las calles de tu aldea.

-Papá... me duelen los pies- dijiste, intentando no tropezarte y caerte, siguiendo el paso que tu padre marcaba.

-Lo sé, mi cielo, pero no falta mucho para salir del borde.

Ibas a preguntar a qué se refería con el borde, pero no era el momento.

Sabías que no había tiempo, pero lo único que querías era pararte y conseguir un respiro tranquilo, o tal vez un rayo de sol que rompiese todo a tu alrededor. Querías dejar de escuchar los gritos, pero cada vez taladraban un poco más tu cerebro.

Decenas de tus vecinos pasaban a tu alrededor. Unos intentaban buscar un refugio seguro de la sombra, los más sensatos corrían en la misma dirección que vosotros. Otros desgraciados yacían en el suelo, inertes.

El fuego de una antorcha se había propagado hasta incendiar un edificio, dando algo más de claridad y ahuyentando los monstruos, pero todavía parecía la escena del infierno.

Apretaste más la mano de tu padre, dirigiendo tu mirada hacia el frente. No querías ver esto.

Dirigiste tu mirada hacia tu padre. Él sabía lo que hacía, estabas completamente segura. Si él decía que el borde era un lugar seguro, entonces tenía que seguir la dirección hacia donde le guiaba.

Él nunca la había fallado, ¿por qué iba a fallar ahora?

Estaba segura a su lado, él la protegería de todo. Lo único que tenía que hacer ella era andar todo lo rápido posible.

Un grito salió de la garganta de su padre antes de empujarte hacia un lado, soltando su mano de la tuya.

Lo siguiente que registraste en tu cerebro fue la visión de un volcra clavando sus garras en el pecho de tu padre antes de alzar el vuelo y subir arriba y arriba.

Escuchaste sus gritos unirse a los de el resto de aldeanos, mientras te quedabas ahí, pegada a la pared de piedra a la que te había empujado para salvarte, sintiendo tu brazo palpitar por el dolor del golpe, viendo a tu padre alzar.

El volcra lo soltó desde la altura, su cuerpo cayendo inerte hasta el suelo, cayendo sin apenas ruido entre la algarabía.

Tenías que ponerle a salvo al igual que él había estado haciendo contigo toda tu vida.

Tu cerebro no se molestó en pensar en lo que estabas haciendo, ni mucho menos en registrarlo y guardarlo en tu memoria.

Sólo te tiraste hacia su cuerpo y lo arrastraste hacia la cabaña vacía a la que te había empujado.

Te tirarse la suelo, apenas pudiendo mantenerte, y te hundiste en el costado de tu padre. Abrazándolo  todo lo que pudiste.

Su cuerpo se sintió extrañamente húmedo y rígido, cuando sus abrazos solían ser cálidos y suaves, pero te mantuviste ahí, con los ojos cerrados con fuerza, esperando hasta que los estridentes sonidos finalmente terminasen.

Todo te olía terriblemente mal. Desde la sangre que envolvía el ambiente hasta el humo del fuego que te hacía toser al intentar respirar.

Si levantabas la cabeza y mirabas por la ventana de la casa, podías ver la oscuridad profunda, con el crepitar del fuego de algunos edificios en llamas acompañado de el sonido de alguna que otra bala rozando el aire.

No había nada.

Al mirar a tu padre, sólo podías ver que sus ojos estaban firmemente cerrados mientras dormía, seguramente debido a las heridas de ese volcra, te aventurarte a pensar.

Pero despertaría, ¿verdad? Él nunca te había dejado sola, se despertaría a tu lado y te ayudaría a salir de aquí.

Tu propio cuerpo te dolía y temblaba con cada movimiento, pero usando todas las fuerzas que te quedaban, agarraste el brazo que todavía l3 quedaba a tu padre y lo arrastraste hasta la esquina más alejada de la puerta y la ventana.

Su cuerpo todavía estaba flácido y seguía cayendo hacia adelante sobre sí mismo, pero en el ángulo correcto podías colocar a tu padre relativamente erguido. Respirando profundamente, te inclinaste hacia su costado y lo volviste a abrazar con aun más fuerza, esperando alguna señal de ayuda.

-----

-Es una retribución- Nikolai suspiró, quitandose los rizos rubios de la cara. - Debería de haber sabido que el Oscuro atacaría a las aldeas cerca de la sombra.

Alzó la cabeza para mirar a todos los presentes en la tienda de mando que se había instalado cerca de uno de los puntos afectados.

Tan sólo estaban presentes Zoya, Genya, David y Alina. Pero aun así sintió las miradas de cada uno de ellos en él, siguiéndole mientras estaban delante del mapa ravkano de la mesa.

Después de que Alina hubiese devuelto la sombra a su forma original, habían mandado a la mitad de sus activos de las zonas fronterizas a intentar salvar lo que hubiese quedado allí.

Habían tenido que matar ya a varios volcra y apenas se habían encontrado supervivientes, enterrados en los recovecos más seguros de las aldeas o bajo las ruinas de algún edificio.

Genya, sin estar muy segura de qué hacer en ese momento cogió aire profundamente, asintiendo a sus palabras.

-Intentaré encargarme de que los suministros médicos y la comida llegen a todos los puntos afectados. Intentaré ayudar a curar a los supervivientes, aunque me temo que no hay muchos.

Nikolai vió marcharse a Genya por la salida de la tienda.

Zoya y Alina no tardaron en poner cada una una excusa y marcharse. Solía incomodar y decepcionar ver al rey de Ravka sin el control de su propio país.

Él solía tener todo bajo control, y la gente se había acostumbrado tanto a sentirse segura y alegre a su alrededor que cuando él estaba frustrado la gente se alejaba, sin saber muy bien qué había cambiado.

Nikolai apoyó sus manos sobre la mesa delante de él, viendo de reojo cómo David se acomodaba en una silla de la tienda y abría su libro, envorvándose sobre las hojas amarillentas como siempre.

Fijó su mirada sobre el mapa de ravka que tenía enfrente suya. Cuatro aldeas distintas habían sido arrasadas, todas en el lado oriental.

Había sucedido durante esa misma noche, no habían tenido ninguna advertencia por parte del Oscuro ni siquiera tiempo para reaccionar.

Nikolai aún no sabía cómo lo había hecho como para montar un campamento de refugiados y dos regimientos para restauración y sanación. Apenas había terminado de desayunar cuando a primera hora de la mañana había entrado un mensajero en el Gran Palacio para dar las noticias.

Lo único que recuerda desde entonces es haber llamado a todos los mensajeros posibles hacia todos los puestos militares cercanos para pedir refuerzos.

Y luego ir a caballo junto a los gemelos shu, Alina y un par de reclutas de la seguridad de Palacio para empezar cuanto antes, montando el campamento a media hora a caballo de la aldea más cercana.

Nikolai se volvió a pasar una mano por el pelo, tenía que haberlo visto venir. Eran un punto débil y debería de haberlos protegido.

-Perdón... ¿Puedes parar de dar golpecitos con el pie?- la voz de David hizo que Nikolai parase su pie casi al instante y volviese su atención hacia él.

El materialki se emostro incómodo ante la mirada del chico y volvió a bajar la cabeza hacia su libro, recorriendo los bordes de la hoja con sus dedos.

Se quedaron en silencio, cada un en su propio cerebro hasta que Nikolai sintió la necesidad de hacer algo para distraerse. No podía estar en su tienda sin hacer nada mientras el resto estaba esforzándose sin pata para salvar a todos los posibles de la situación

-David, ¿sabes donde está Tolya?- Nikolai volvió a captar la atención de David al romper el silencio.

-Ah... -David frunció el ceño y ladeo la cabeza, intentando recordar- Creo que se había ido a ayudar con la búsqueda de supervivientes. En ese pueblo de la iglesia de granito...

-¿Reijvak?- Nikolai preguntó. Era el más cercano al campeonato, cosa que agradeció en el fondo.

-Sí creo que era ese. ¿Sabías que el granito se forma a partir de la cristalización de magma bajo la superficie terrestre? Tarda millones de años y... Oh, ya se ha ido.

David observó a su rey desde la apertura de la puerta de la tienda, viendole abrocharse y alisarse su uniforme verde oliva antes de subir a una montura y galopar por el camino terroso.

Inspiró el olor a polvo del claro y volvió a su libro, haciendo caso omiso de todo el ruido del campamento.

----

Cuando Nikolai por fin llegó a Reijvak, se encontró a Tolya en el interior de una casa semiderruida, de pie y con los brazos cruzados, mirando hacia un agujero entre un montón de escombros que deberían de haber sido en su momento una pared interior de la casa.

-Niña, por todos los Snaktos, tienes que venir conmigo- La voz de Tolya, normalmente calmada y segura, ahora sonaba desesperada y algo harta.

Nikolai vió asomarse una cabecita llena de polvo y hollín antes de volver a agacharse y esconderse entre el refugio improvisado entre los escombros.

El gigante suspiró y se llevó una mano al tabique de su nariz, negando para sí.

Cuando Nikolai se puso a su lado, soltando un breve saludo, mirando en dirección al agujero enfrente de los dos hombres.

El grisha le dió un asentimiento como saludo antes de relajar un poco su posición tensa.

-La niña lleva ahí desde el desastre de la Sombra -Tolya explicó con voz cansada- El equipo de recuperación se llevó un cuerpo, al que suponemos que era su tutor. Desde entonces no ha sido razonables.

-Eso es comprensible-Nikolai murmuró antes de avanzar en un par de pasos lentos para que la niña no se asustase.

La pequeña estaba intercalando su mirada entre la figura de Nikolai acercándose y la del charco de sangre al lado de Tolya, donde debería de haber yacido su tutor.

Tenía la ropa sucia y rasgada por algunas partes, con algunos rasguños y moratones, pero mayoritariamente ilesa, algo que tranquilizó al rubio.

Nikolai se puso de rodillas para ponerse a la altura de la pequeña. La menor alzó la cabeza entre curiosidad y miedo, dejando que Nikolai viese sus ojos.

Los tenía rojos, no sabía si de llorar o de la suciedad del aire. Pero lo peor era el miedo cadente que estropeaba sus ojos y hacía temblar su figura.

Parecían los de un cervatillo buscando un refugio antes de que él cazador lanzase la flecha final. Y eso Nikolai no quiso ni pensarlo, al sentir su pecho aplastarse.

La chica dejó su mirada del charco de sangre y Tolya para centrarse por fin en el rubio, su mirada emanado desesperación.

-¿Adónde os lo habéis llevado?-Sacaste más la cabeza del escondite, intentando sonar amenazante con tu voz temblorosa- Li quiero devuelta.

-¿Hablas de tu tutor?- La voz del rubio fue suave y calmada, tranquilizando a la chica. Su paciencia estaba más intacta que la de Tolya.

Saliste del tu escondite a rastras, intentando no darte con la piedra sobre ti. Te pusiste delante de Nikolai sentada sobre tus rodillas, a una distancia prudencial de él por si acaso tenías que volver a los escombros.

-Es mi... mi padre. Él estaba conmigo y luego su pecho estaba todo rojo y paramos a descansar -Empezaste a temblar entera mientras intentabas encontrar las palabras para lo que sabías que era verdad- Él... no va a volver, ¿verdad?

Nikolai vió cómo tus ojos se aguaron y tus manos temblaban sobre tus piernas. Negaste fuertemente con la cabeza, haciendo que algunas cenizas se escapaban du tu pelo mientras intentabas controlar tu llanto.

-Lo siento mucjo- Nikolai murmuró antes de acercarse lentamente a tí hasta estar a un palmo de distancia.

Puso su mano en tu hombro lentamente, dandote tiempo a negar su toque. Frotó pequeños círculos con su pulgar, intentando consolarte.

Nikolai esperaba que empezase a gritar o patalear, algo visceral que igualara el horror que te habían hecho vivir. No merecías eso. ¿Cómo iba a merecer eso un niña?

Una vez que tus lágrimas pararon, permaneciste preocupantemente silencioso, balanceándote suavemente.

Te echaste hacia delante, echándote sobre Nikolai hacia delante y abrazándole. Rodeaste su pecho con tus brazos y lo estrujaste todo lo que pudiste, con tu rostro hundido en la tela de su uniforme, inspirando su aroma a limpio.

Lo abrazaste todo lo fuerte que pudiste, llenándole el uniforme verde oliva de polvo, lágrimas y mocos.

Sentiste su brazo rodearte, y sentiste la seguridad y el calor hogareño que tu padre te hacía sentir en tu pecho cada vez que te arropaba en tu cama.

Otra mano se ubicó en tu cabeza, haciendo círculos suaves y tranquilizadora, que te hicieron respirar calmada.

Un rato después, cuando ya estabas debatiéndose entre el sueño y la vigilia, con tus párpados revoloteando para quedarte despierta, Nikolai afianzó su agarre sobre ti y se puso de pie con cautela.

-Gracias- Tolya susurró pata no despertarte, caminando al lado de Nikolai hacia el campamento de supervivientes- No creo que hubiese podido convencer a ese diablillo de salir de allí.

-No es nada, Tolya. -El rubio formó una sonrisa ladeada en su rostro en el silencio cómodo entre ellos antes de seguir- Todavía vamos a tener que hacer que un pobre sanador la intente curar.

El gigante soltó una carcajada profunda y grave mientras seguían caminando.

La grava y las piedras crujía bajo sus pies y el polvo se levantaba a su paso por las calles desoladas de la aldea. Todavía quedaba un trecho hasta la plaza, donde había ordenado ubicar el campamento.

En ese ambiente casi apocalíptico escucharon a un par de pájaros en el cielo cantar, rompiendo el silencio entre los dos hombres.

El viento hacía que la luz del atardecer no fuese suficiente para evadir el frío, por lo que Nikolai examinó arrojando a la kiña en el uniforme de su chaqueta.

-¿Quién se va a hacer cargo de ella?- Tolya rompió el silencio, dando luz a él pensamiento que había estado rondando por la cabeza de Nikolai.

Nikolai suspiró, sin saber muy bien qué decir. No podía estar eternamente en el campamento de refugiados, pero tampoco sabía de alguien con quien dejarte.

Había rondado una idea por su cabeza. Genya y Zoya llevaban buscándole una pareja para conseguir tener a un heredero después de morir. Tal vez podía tenerte a ti y cuidarte...

No. Era demasiado arriesgado. Además, Zoya lo mataría si se presentaba en el Gran Palacio con una huérfana d ela que no sabía ni su nombre.

-Por ahora le llevaremos al campamento -Nikolai respondió, ajustando la chaqueta sobre ti, que se había ido cayendo poco a poco- Allí podrá descansar mejor y podrá estar al cuidado de la brigada.

-¿Y después?- Tolya preguntó.

-Después... -Nikolai sonrió para sí, con el paso en el camino y la mirada en el atardecer- Conseguiré una solución más permanente.

Tolya asintió levemente, aunque frunciendo el ceño. No sabía lo que su amigo estaba retorciendo en su cerebro, pero había algo que le daba muy mala espina.

Pero no se sorprendió al verte tres semanas después correteando por los pasillos del Pequeño Palacio junto a varios de los estudiantes grisha más pequeños. Y mucho menos le extrañó escuchar los gritos de Zoya cuando se enteró de lo que Nikolai acababa de hacer.

[deadghosy]

ੈ🎐༄˖°.〰˚✩彡

BEING BEST FRIENDS WITH AANG:

prompt: being the same age as Aang, mostly the avatar has it perks considering you two are polar opposites

🐚 ྀ࿓it’s dead ass funny seeing two 12 years argue who sheds more, momo or appa. Katara would have to pull you off of Aang before you slap this little Mr clean head ass boy.

🐚 ྀ࿓for shits and giggles, you have definitely got launched in the air. You were begging Aang to just launch you in the air. Because you always dreamed of it since you met this airbender.

🐚 ྀ࿓Aang is pretty much protective of you if you can’t bend. So if you are a non bender, you better believe this boy makes sure you are by his side at all times of the traveling. Even after he finishes the Hundred year war. He’s the avatar, of course there’s still petty ass people after him.

🐚 ྀ࿓now if you weren’t a non bender and had a bending skill of some sort, he is still protective of you. You could be a master at bending, and this dude will still make sure you are behind him in danger. You two are such a powerful duo when bending, now a good trio is you, toph, and Aang at all once.

🐚 ྀ࿓you two are basically platonic soulmates who are always found by each other. Like that one time you went to go shopping at a market, and Aang followed you secretly since it’s his job to protect you at all time. Or that one time you lost Aang in the crowd and he immediately found you by your voice in an instant.

🐚 ྀ࿓”I’m gonna kill that asshole…” “please don’t.” Those words basically describes your friendship with Aang. Literally after Aang got his grow spurt and he was taller than you, you better believe this now wise boy would put you on his shoulder to drag you away from fights.

🐚 ྀ࿓you are the chaos in the peace and he is the peace within the chaos. You two are two peas in a pond, yin & yang. You have your moments where it’s the opposite sometimes. But where’s the fun when you create the problems whilst Aang has to drag you away from causing more problems.

🐚 ྀ࿓smack his head…he dares you. He knows you do it for jokes. But this boy is tired of having red hand marks on his head and feeling the painful burn.. if you did one more time, he is actually putting you in rock time out. You could try to get out. But this airbender is making sure he is having a kick out of this.

🐚 ྀ࿓when training with Aang, he tries to go easy on while you don’t. Of course you care about Aang deeply like he does for you, but you ain’t no pussy. You literally used chi blocking on him cause he hesitated blasting you away with his airbending. At the end you had to smack his head for trying to not blast you. And of course he still didn’t learn his listen as he just dodges.

🐚 ྀ࿓Aang is very affectionate person, everyone knows that. So of course he is holding your hand, waist if you allow it, wrap his arm around your shoulder. He might not be that much of a touchy person, but it feels nice to have the person that’s like his other half by him.

🐚 ྀ࿓cuddles is a must if you or him have a bad day. Yes you once snored while trying to move away from the airbender in your sleep. Aang wasn’t letting that happen at all cause he pulled you to his chest as he falls asleep.

🐚 ྀ࿓random arguments with Aang is also a must as you two argue over the most stupidest things ever. Say for example, your favorite book was gone. So you accused Aang of using it for something actually dumb. Aang got offended as he dramatically gasp and blamed you instead for being so dense for not keeping up with your stuff. And that’s where you would tackle him and start hitting his head. Mostly smacking his bald head cause it’s funny😭

🐚 ྀ࿓this sweetheart of an airbender will teach you about his culture. Now if you are part of one of the nations, you teach him your nation of course. It’s like trading Pokémon cards for more Pokémon cards. He will probably do something so you can wear an airbender outfit, just so people can see you two are best friends for life. Literally.

🐚 ྀ࿓I can see you trying to ignore Aang for something petty, and Aang is not having it as communication is key. He will literally pick you up over his shoulder and put you down so he can talk to you face to face. He’s serious about you, so of course he’s not letting you be this petty.

🐚 ྀ࿓yk how Aang had his hair grown out, yeah you actually liked it grown out like that. It was cute and you told him that in confidence. At first he thought you were lying so you can make fun of it. But when he saw how you kept playing with his hair. He actually was thinking about keep his hair grown out like this. His darkish brown hair was suiting on him. He’d actually fall asleep with his head on you as you play with it.

🐚 ྀ࿓Aang will never forget the moment he almost went avatar state for you. All because you wanted to be reckless and almost died. A fire nation soldier tried to burn you alive, but you were quick to dodge it. While for Aang, he didn’t get a clear view to see if you dodged it or not. So this man’s tattoos glowed scared and worried. Mostly angry if you died as he was about to burn the solider. Kyoshi was telling him to. But that all stopped when you grabbed his shoulder. Aang stops to look at you and hug you tightly, his heart went back to normal sped.

🐚 ྀ࿓to end this off, you guys are practically platonic soulmates who are made to be by each other’s side. Aang agrees and you, you just nod while you stuff your face in food. And Aang eats calmly compared to you. So if you choke on your food, he is smacking the shit out of your back worried if you actually choke on your food.

[deadghosy]

🌊⛰️🔥🌪️

MODERN! READER WITH GAANG

𖤓PROMPT: you fell inside your comfort show.

✧ ೃ༄*ੈ✩it was during book 2, you were happy to see toph show her father that she can take care of herself. You had wished to see it in person. And booom! You were suddenly in the show where you can see Aang get busted free from the metal cage.

✧ ೃ༄*ੈ✩after the whole fight scene, toph noticed you and pointed you out. You knew there was no chance in running, so you outed yourself out. By calmly saying you are from another world. As much as you sounded crazy, they laughed while Toph knew you weren’t lying by your heart rate. You showed them your phone and that’s when the main Trio stops laughing and got curious

✧ ೃ༄*ੈ✩Sokka most definitely will ask if the ladies back in your time era are attractive, you said yes and this boy was asking to see what they look like on your phone 😭

✧ ೃ༄*ੈ✩and that’s how you got into the gaang. You were the therapist of the group, always listening to their troubles and helping them with all the knowledge you knew about their characters.

✧ ೃ༄*ੈ✩katara always likes to rant about her day to you, and you don’t mind which makes her feels comfortable around her. Book 1 katara was very open on making friends. Book 2, I’ll say the same. If you had meet book 3 katara, YOU BETTER HAD PRAY FOR MERCY LMAO.

✧ ೃ༄*ੈ✩aang likes to play with you with his airbending, and you enjoy the hell out of it. Literally you would smile with the brightest smile, and Aang smiles with you along. Just two sunshines having fun.

✧ ೃ༄*ੈ✩toph likes how you taught her swear words. You and toph curse like sailors😈 lmao. Aang accidentally got influenced and that make katara step in and shut shit down 😭😭.

✧ ೃ༄*ੈ✩you love appa and momo! These furry cuties love you too as appa always licks your face when you show up. Momo sometimes leaps on your shoulders, maybe even trying to share a fruit with you.

✧ ೃ༄*ੈ✩Aang steals your big shirts, and you would try to match with him which makes him even like you more as a friend. You turn into his best friend right there and now.

✧ ೃ༄*ੈ✩with you being a non-bender..protectiveness is to the roof! Literally even if you can fight. There’s still bending that can take you down without a single thought. The people who at your body guards are Aang, toph, Katara, and Zuko. The four powerful benders. But the ones who stick the most are Zuko and toph. Toph because she likes how fierce your personality is. Zuko, Zuko is just himself. Plus he needs more friends.

✧ ೃ༄*ੈ✩Zuko awkwardly ask you a lot of questions from your generation. Like a lot to the point you grabbed his lips shut. That’s when Zuko knew, you weren’t playing games.

✧ ೃ༄*ੈ✩headcannon on zuko and you just being awkward teens not knowing how to start the conversation so all he starts off is, “so, is war a thing in your world?” The way you gave him a wild side glance.

✧ ೃ༄*ੈ✩I can see you making the gaang learn slangs LMAO. You made katara understand the wordings of “What you being messy for?” And she started to use on toph and Sokka 😭😭 you’d probably give Aang a short ass but wholesome slang.

✧ ೃ༄*ੈ✩if you had curly hair, and not some katara curly hair iykwim. I mean like 4c ass hair that I possibly have 😭. I can see katara just amazed and ask in g to comb it which you quickly say no to. Toph, just stands there but probably does touch it when bored. People who ask to touch it is suki, Zuko, and Aang. Those three are people who I can see ask before doing it. Sokka will ask, but will touch it as it ask after 🧍🏾

✧ ೃ༄*ੈ✩big headcannon Sokka training you on sword fighting, but then Zuko comes in because Sokka is apparently “showing” you the wrong way lol.

✧ ೃ༄*ੈ✩suki most definitely would love to teach you her ways of fighting. Plus chi blocking. Once you mastered it, she would take it up a notch and have you spar with her. In honor of her teaching, you agree. You had the upper hand until she practically cheated by distracting you. Making you lose your focus, she nailed you down. But in all warfare, it was full of laughter and friendship.

✧ ೃ༄*ੈ✩imainge you showing them that “car” comercial..(of course toph can’t see it lmao) 😭 ZUKO PROBABLY BURNT YOUR PHONE 😨 ALL BECAUSE HE GOT SCARED

[deadghosy]

: 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊

BEING BEST FRIENDS WITH KATARA:

prompt: you two are from the same tribe while traveling with her brother and Aang.

˚˖𓍢ִִ໋🌊˚˖𓍢ִ✧˚.pure love in the friendship as she always makes sure you are okay everyday. Like literally every morning starts off with her checking if you had a nightmare or such.

˚˖𓍢ִִ໋🌊˚˖𓍢ִ✧˚.traveling with the avatar has its perks by being followed by a prince with daddy issues. And through the whole time, she is protective of you. It didn’t matter if you are a non bender or a master at what you are bending. You are still someone who needs to be watched in her eyes.

˚˖𓍢ִִ໋🌊˚˖𓍢ִ✧˚.katara is such a mother and a best friend. But mostly a mother as she gives you advice and guidance in what she knows about what you want to know mostly.

˚˖𓍢ִִ໋🌊˚˖𓍢ִ✧˚.oh you’re hurt? She’s already healing you. Oh you’re hungry? She’s already making Sokka go fishing. Literally babies you. Don’t matter if you are older or younger, you are a victim of mama katara. She’s glad you find her comforting to be around when you need the comfort. She literally smiles feeling your body ease against hers.

˚˖𓍢ִִ໋🌊˚˖𓍢ִ✧˚.you & Katara definitely use to prank Sokka into thinking he peed in his dream😭just to mess with this boy. Katara just water bending water onto sokka’s sleeping bag as you snicker along with your friend.

˚˖𓍢ִִ໋🌊˚˖𓍢ִ✧˚.what if you were a water bender like katara? Oh boyyy she will make sure you know the basics. And if you are a pro like katara already, you two are a deadly water duo in battle. Azula and the fire nation better pray that one of you has the mercy to spare. Because you guys will go psycho mode with the water bending skills.

˚˖𓍢ִִ໋🌊˚˖𓍢ִ✧˚.if you’re a non bender, oh boy. Mama Katara mode goes from 5 to almost 100. Cause you both have been best friends since almost birth. You guys are inseparable. Literally she’s making sure you have no scars every time the battle ends with enemies in the way of Aang’s adventure.

˚˖𓍢ִִ໋🌊˚˖𓍢ִ✧˚.lol when she was going to square up to toph when everyone was tired, you had to just stand there and pull her aside for her to calm down.

˚˖𓍢ִִ໋🌊˚˖𓍢ִ✧˚.lmao the times where you had to drag katara away from basically fighting toph is mostly crazy. When you guys met her, and at the fire nation. When toph threw that rock and it hit katara. You knew shit would be real when katara got her payback. You had to literally chi block both of the girls to make them stop. Yeah toph would be hard to chi block, but you did while jumping.

˚˖𓍢ִִ໋🌊˚˖𓍢ִ✧˚.yk how she got her mother’s necklace. What if she makes you a water tribe friendship necklace or bracelet of sorts. Literally just to prove how your friendship with her is strong and can never be breaking.

˚˖𓍢ִִ໋🌊˚˖𓍢ִ✧˚.yes you two will have girl time together. She loves having you as a best friend who she can share secrets with and just laugh with. It feels nice.

˚˖𓍢ִִ໋🌊˚˖𓍢ִ✧˚.if you were younger than her, man..she is actually a mother to you. Always making sure you hold her hand, making sure you are fed, making sure your clothes are alright. You might want to tell her you can take care of your own self. But she would just ignore it and keep babying you like a true mother.

˚˖𓍢ִִ໋🌊˚˖𓍢ִ✧˚.katara always shows off her water bending to impress you, and it works as you clap with light up eyes. Katara just feels proud to have you around. It’s nice.

˚˖𓍢ִִ໋🌊˚˖𓍢ִ✧˚.katara is a very talented and sweet girl, so if you were to say a water bender. She’s helping you withy your skills. She knows it was hard to do when she first started. But now you two can do spars.

˚˖𓍢ִִ໋🌊˚˖𓍢ִ✧˚.a water/ice slide will be a must for you. You literally half begged katara and she gave in to giving you a water/ice slide. She just liked how happy you looked. The way your eyes light up with your smile. It brought joy to her as well. She even joined you on the slide as she makes it even more exciting with her skills.

˚˖𓍢ִִ໋🌊˚˖𓍢ִ✧˚.when Zuko was trying to get in the gaang, you were ready to trust him because you felt no ill intent from the prince. But as you were going to go to Zuko to welcome him, katara pulls you back and glares at Zuko. Zuko notices that and gave you a soft look of appreciation.

˚˖𓍢ִִ໋🌊˚˖𓍢ִ✧˚.if you’re sick. The gods or avatars better hope you don’t get sick cause katara is being snappy and worried for you. Aang tried to touch your forehead about what was wrong with you, and katara smacks his hand so quick away from you. She’s probably asking him if he washed his hands😭

˚˖𓍢ִִ໋🌊˚˖𓍢ִ✧˚.in the end, you guys are the greatest friends anyone can have. From the same tribe to the whole thing about traveling with the avatar. You care about her, she cares about you.

[ellewritesalright]

Nine Long Years - Part 4

Nikolai Lantsov x Rietveld!reader, Kaz Brekker x sister!Rietveld!reader (platonic)

Part 3 --- Masterlist --- Part 5

Synopsis: After watching your brothers die, you found yourself working on the Volkvolny. In the many years since then, you somehow became the queen of Ravka while your brother somehow survived firepox and life in the Barrel, rising through its ranks. In disguise during a diplomatic trip with your husband Nikolai, you meet Kaz Brekker for what you think is the first time, only to find out that he is your long-thought-dead little brother.

Author's Note: Hi there! This one is a little nicer and less sad so hope you enjoy. Next part won't be out for a while I'm afraid. I've got a lot of work to do as the semester is almost done so I gotta grind w that.

Warnings: mentions of death, angst but also fluff, unconsciousness, blood, mentions of sickness, panic attacks, firepox, mentions of the Hertzoon con.

Word Count: 5,570

..........

FOURTH YEAR 

It was getting easier to pretend to be newlyweds. Every second spent with Nikolai kissing your hand or resting a palm against your waist only served to endear you to him, especially when he would grin at you like a schoolboy. You were still masquerading as the Ivanovs, Pytor and Ilse, and you called each other such when in the company of strangers. But when you were alone, no matter how weird it felt, you started calling him Nikolai.

It happened because of an inquiry he made on the road to the village you were currently stationed in. He glanced at you from under his cap, a curious smile playing at his lips.

“Why do you keep calling me Sturmhond?” he asked.

"What else would I call you?" You retorted.

"My real name, perhaps?"

"Doesn't sound right," you said. "Sturmhond suits you."

"You're not wrong, but remember what I told you when you found out?"

"Sturmhond at sea, Prince Nikolai in Ravka.” You raised an eyebrow at him. “Do you really want me to call you 'your Highness' now? Even though we're miles and miles and a gargantuan Shadow Fold away from Os Alta?"

"No need for that formality. Just Nikolai will do." He smiled at you. "Except when we're around others. We have appearances to keep up, you know."

So, despite how difficult it was and how odd it felt, you called him Nikolai when the two of you were alone.

At present, his cap was tucked low over his face, trying to hide the changing colour of his eyes. He was more different every day, and you took the quiet of dinnertime as an opportunity to look him over. His jaw and mouth remained the same, though you doubted they had been tailored in the first place; his nose was straightening ever so slightly, but it still looked like he had seen his fair share of fighting; his hair had all but turned blonde, save for a few red highlights; and now his eyes were becoming murky. You hadn't figured out their real colour yet, but you thought maybe they would be a dark gray or a chocolate brown. 

Whatever they were, they would undoubtedly complement his admittedly handsome face.

"Lost in my eyes, my dear?" He asked, catching your stare.

You cleared your throat, eyes darting away. Honesty might be best in this situation. "Just wondering what colour they really are."

You had no qualms saying this aloud as your dinner was a picnic at a secluded park on the edge of town. There was hardly anyone around, and the closest people were far from being in earshot. 

"In that case, I think I'll leave you in suspense," he said.

"If that's what you want." You combed your fingers through the grass beneath your hands. "Tell me again when we should meet Tamar and Tolya."

He received a message that afternoon through an informant in his network. The twins were safe in Novokribirsk, somewhere you were supposed to be very soon if your navigator–Nikolai–would have a bit more focus on the destination and not the journey.

"No later than Saturday," he said, sprawling out in front of you. When he laid his head in your lap you rolled your eyes. “They’re staying at one of my associate’s homes. We’re to meet them there.”

It was Thursday now, and you had been without the twins for a week, not a couple days as Nikolai had initially said. You missed Tolya's bear hugs and Tamar's quick wit. Nikolai was a decent stand-in for both of them, though your relationship with him felt different from your relationship with the twins. You would never go to Tolya for comfort like you would with Nikolai, and Tamar's teasing and jokes didn't get on your nerves unlike those of a certain privateer prince. Additionally, if either twin wanted to rest their head in your lap you would have accepted them with a smile, but you only felt a quick bout of cynicism for Nikolai.

His eyes were shut, and you figured he must still be tired from comforting you the other night. He looked peaceful, like he could be content laying there forever. A strand of half-red-half-golden hair peeked out from his cap, begging for attention as it splayed across his forehead. You tucked it back into the brim with delicate fingers, tracing along the bottom of his cap. When your hand dropped he opened his eyes in a languid sweep. His smile was soft.

“Read to me?” he asked, his hand fumbling for the basket where the Old Ravkan book was waiting.

In all your boredom the two of you had already finished the book and started it over. You were halfway through, and you held the light, malleable book in one hand as you lost yourself in the words. Your other hand was resting beside you until Nikolai brought it close to him, his fingers dancing across your palm, twisting the ring--his ring--on your finger and interlocking his digits with yours.

A feather-light brush of something against your knuckles made you lose your focus as you reached one of the more interesting parts of the story. You expected to grow angry at him for making you pause, but when you glanced down and saw him grazing your hand against his lips you didn’t know what to feel.

He had kissed your hand before in a crowded town square or during dinner at a pub, but it was only ever when you were in public, only to keep up appearances. This was different. There was no one around, no one to be suspicious of two people in a park, so why was he being so affectionate? 

Of course, it was obvious why. Nikolai liked you. He had expressed this to you on several occasions, but you had always brushed him aside. His feelings were there, a shadow behind every single one of his actions, even when he was being less obvious. There were the winks and flirtations, but then there were the times he gave you a genuine smile, told you to keep safe when you had to be apart, or held you close as you sobbed into his shoulder. He was quietly expressing his fondness on the regular.

Perhaps--in your own way--you’d done the same. You straightened out his cap, made him button his jacket to the top to keep away the autumn chill, and read to him in your shared bed each night. But those were all completely normal things, you were sure of it.

You knew how he felt about you, but you didn’t know how to feel about him anymore. Worse still, if you felt some kind of affection for him, what could you do about it? Your extended reprieve from the Volkvolny didn’t change the fact that he was captain and you were his second. It would be wrong to start a relationship with him.

And then there was the fact that--above all--Nikolai was a prince. He had duties that he would one day have to return to, and there was no place for you in his life when he did.

But the more you thought about being with him the more right it felt. 

That realization scared you more than anything else, but you couldn’t stop it from spreading like weeds in a garden. Some weeds are quite pretty, a voice in your mind argued.

He looked up at you with those murky eyes, a hint of interest in his brow. “Why have you stopped reading, my dear?”

The pet name was an unintentionally cruel stroke, a sweet utterance that only added insult to injury. You pulled your hand from his and began packing things in the basket. “It’s getting late,” you said. “We should go back to the inn before nightfall.”

“I didn’t think you were scared of the dark,” he teased, sitting up to help you. There was a worry in his voice even if he tried to cloak it in humour. He knew your secrets now, your past, and he might have thought that had something to do with your eagerness to sleep with a roof over your head, but that was far from your mind at that moment. 

You weren’t scared of the dark, only what could happen in it. People lost their wits at night, got swept up in any hint of tenderness, and you were determined that it wouldn’t happen to you. 

When you got back to the inn you went to sleep on the edge of the bed, keeping your distance from him. He noticed it–because saints knew he always noticed everything–but he made no mention of it. He kept to his side, and you kept to yours. Simple.

……….

On most days, there wasn't much to do in these Ravkan villages, but–luckily for you and Nikolai–one of the days you were stuck happened to fall on a fete celebrating Sankta Lizabeta. The village you were stopped in had bright, floral decor, and children crowded in front of a travelling puppet show. Nikolai insisted that the two of you watch the puppets perform, even going so far as to hold your hand so that you would remain with him. He flashed you a smile as you leaned against him to get a better view through the crowd.

The puppets were ridiculous, and you grew confused as you tried to follow whatever grandiose plot they were trying to convey, yet the children packed at the front of the crowd seemed entertained. Leaning against Nikolai was necessary to stave off the weariness that accompanied this convoluted story.

It was once you rested your head against him that he whispered to you. "Are you tired? We can go to our room and rest."

"I'm fine," you said. "I just have no idea what the puppets are trying to say."

He chuckled. "It's the story of Sankta Lizabeta."

Nikolai muttered narration into your ear as the puppets kept on, and he drew some smiles from you with his commentary.

"Understandably, Lizabeta was pissed, so she thought 'bees will solve all of my troubles.'"

"Never mess with a woman and her bees."

"Quite an overreaction on the northern village's part. They should've just understood that summoning bees isn't a party trick."

The show finished and Nikolai tipped the performers with a shiny coin, then you took your leave.

It was a small village, but the walk down to the inn was not brief, especially not when Nikolai was taking his sweet time–no wonder you had yet to make it to Novokribirsk. He still had his hand in yours, and he made you trail along with him as he strolled down a hill. You felt a nagging sense to pull at him or drop his hand and go ahead without him, but you didn't. 

It might have been his slow pace that landed you in trouble. Or it could have been the fact that he was distracted. He was once more bringing your hand to his lips, his stare on your face as he pressed a quick kiss to your skin. Then he kissed your hand again, this time for a moment longer. He was testing the waters, seeing how much he could get away with before you made him stop. He had barely pressed his lips to the inside of your wrist when you heard it. 

The clambering of rickety wheels came suddenly. A carriage with no horse or rider came burning down the hill towards you. Nikolai glanced back, noticing its descent a split second before you did. In the moment he acted as quickly as he could, shoving you to the side of the path. 

He couldn't move himself fast enough, though, and the carriage struck him. He was knocked beneath it, smack dab between the wheels, and it continued on without crushing him, thank the saints. The carriage was gone by the time you rushed to his side.

Nikolai was sprawled on the ground, his eyes shut. He wasn't moving. 

There was a familiarity to the situation as you kneeled over his unconscious body. The smell of death creeped up your nose and into your head, muddying your thoughts.

But now was not the time for death. You fought off a sob as you shook his shoulders, trying to rouse him awake. When that was unsuccessful you felt for a pulse that could not be found, watching to see if his chest was rising and falling. It wasn't.

Years ago, when you were a sailor on a few trade ships before the Volkvony, you had witnessed otkazat'sya sailors revive people who had almost drowned by pumping their hands against the unconscious person's chest and breathing into their mouth. That sort of thing wasn't necessary on the Volkvolny because of the corporalniks; they could start a person's heart with the wave of a hand.

You were not Grisha, though, so you would have to help Nikolai the otkazat'sya way.

Laying one hand over the other on his chest, you began pumping with quick and hard motions. You kept a focused eye on his face, checking for any twitches of life. After thirty pumps, you bent over his face, plugging his nose and breathing into his mouth. It wasn't how you imagined being this close to him for the first time, but you did it nonetheless, giving him two large breaths.

You were no stranger to death. It seemed to dog your life, stealing your parents and brothers from you without hesitation. What you had done to warrant such grim circumstances, you didn't know. Maybe you were an abhorrent person in another life. Maybe the saints decided to torment you for their own entertainment. You couldn't explain why death always accompanied you, but today you were determined to banish it. Nikolai wasn't going to die on your watch, you wouldn't let him. You kept pumping.

Every second that he lay unconscious you got more desperate, your hands pressing harder and harder as you tried to restart his systems. You pushed back his cap as you bent to breathe into his mouth again. His golden hair shone atop of his head, the red completely gone. There was a cut on his forehead just above his eye that was slowly bleeding, but you couldn't bother with it now. Your vision was clouding with tears and you blinked them away as you kept on. They dripped on his cheek as you breathed into his mouth again. Then it was back to pumping.

"C'mon," you said, more to yourself than to the man before you. "You can't leave me now." Your arms were starting to tire, but you kept on anyways. "Nikolai, you stupid, impossibly aggravating prince, wake up."

His body jolted, and then he was coughing, his eyes crinkling as his face scrunched up in discomfort. A weight lifted off of you and you pulled him into your arms, squeezing him tight. He grunted at the ferocity of your grip and you eased up, muttering a quick apology.

"Thank the saints, you're alive," you said, kissing the crown of his head in a moment of relief. 

"I didn't know... you cared so much about me," he rasped.

He struggled with his breathing a bit, the wind knocked out of him, but it was good to know that the accident had not knocked the humour out of him. You let yourself chuckle at his joke, pressing another kiss to his head. 

"Never scare me like that again," you ordered, rubbing your eyes. He noticed this and grabbed your hand. 

As though he wasn't just nearly crushed to death, he continued where he left off during your walk, bringing his lips to the inside of your wrist in a soft kiss. 

"Yes, dear," he said.

You used your sleeve to dab at the bloody cut on his forehead. It wasn't too deep, but it would need to be cleaned properly once you got back to the inn. He gave you a smile. "You're improving."

"What do you mean by that?" 

"You're getting better at saving my life."

You frowned. "I shouldn't have to improve at that."

He only hummed in response, shutting his eyes and leaning more of his weight against you. "I think you bruised my ribs."

"I save your life only for you to complain? Next time I'll leave you alone, then."

"But what would you do without me?"

"Relish in the return of quiet."

"Sounds boring."

"Sounds peaceful."

He winced as you helped him sit up, and you wished you'd been blessed with the abilities of a corporalki healer so that you could make his pain vanish like a street magician with a coin. He was barely sitting by the time another carriage came along, this time with a horse and driver. with its open top and drab rectangular shape, it was really more of a cart. It stopped beside you, the driver peering down at you two with pity in his eyes. Half a dozen tiny heads leaned over the side of the cart to stare at you in fascination.

"The carriage that hit your husband probably belonged to old man Arkezny. He never ties up his horses, then they get loose and his carriage takes off whichever direction it pleases," the man said after you told him of your accident. "You can come with us. We pass the inn on our way home."

The driver and his rambunctious children had been at the fete all day, all of them watching the puppets just as you had. Nikolai made conversation with the litter like a professional, even despite the injuries that had him leaning against you as though you were a sturdy column; you were neither, and every time the cart lurched you could feel him tense up in pain, though he did not show it on the outside. He kept laughing with the children and telling them stories about sailing--under the pretense that Pytor Ivanov was a merchant sailor, not a privateer called Sturmhond.

When you arrived at the inn you thanked the kind man profusely, and he merely smiled in return and headed home with his family.

Despite the subtle pain you saw on his face, Nikolai made no complaints as you helped him to your room and made him lay back in bed. You borrowed some supplies from the innkeeper then fetched a bowl of warm water and a cloth for his wounds. Nikolai was patient as you sat beside him and cleaned up the blood from his forehead, employing what little experience you had soothing your brothers' various cuts and scrapes.

"You're wonderful, did you know that?" He grinned at you as you dabbed along his cut.

You only hummed in response, forcing yourself to focus on your work and not get caught on his words.

"Truly," he drawled, "you're wonderful, clever, and kind." Nikolai reached for your hand as it swept the last bit of blood. You met his soft stare. "And you're the most beautiful person I've ever had the pleasure of meeting."

"Nikolai," you tsked quietly, as though in a weak admonishment.

He interrupted before you could state your point. "I like when you say my real name."

"Did that carriage give you a concussion?"

He chuckled. "No, rather the opposite. I'd say it knocked some sense into me."

He played with your fingers, traced along his ring that was still on your hand. You hadn't taken it off once since he slipped it onto your hand in that pub; you even kept it on as you slept. He smiled at it, his eyes glancing up at you.

You realized then how close you were as you sat there beside him, leg pressed against his and his fingers entwined with yours. You could feel his breath lightly warming your face, creeping down your neck and making your chest flood with heat. The heartbeat in your ears was louder than the whip of wind when the Hummingbird was in mid-air.

Nikolai leaned forward slightly, getting even closer to you in a movement that would have made his injuries sting. But he didn’t show any pain, he was only staring at your lips with hooded eyes. His hand went to your face, his thumb tracing along the apple of your cheek in featherlight strokes. And when he spoke it was a whisper.

"Tell me to stop," he begged. "Swear at me in Kerch. Call me a fucking scoundrel again. Please."

"Isn't this what you want?" Your voice was so breathless you felt you ought to be ashamed. But you weren't. Cold shame didn't bother you when you were burning under his vulnerable eyes and the slight press of his thigh against yours.

"It is," he said, searching your face. “Saints, it is. But I need to know you want this too.”

You took a second to look at him. He was already quite a handsome man, but he was a beautiful, devilish sight with his cheeks flushed and pupils blown out. You wanted to remember this moment; if only you could capture the air between you and decorate yourself with its passion again and again.

But you took too long to respond, and he pulled away. He hardly dropped his hand and turned his chin before you grabbed his face and kissed him. It was tender, if quick, and you were pleased to find that Nikolai's lips were as delicate as you'd imagined them to be.

"I want this too," you said as you briefly pulled apart. "More than anything."

"You've no idea how happy I am to hear that."

He grinned, pulled you close, and kissed you again. He held your kiss for longer, and when you pulled apart he kept you close still, his forehead pressed to yours. You took a second to look at his eyes, noting how they’d settled into a green and brown mixture. You never would have guessed they would turn out hazel.

“Your eyes are very nice,” you said quietly.

He smiled bashfully, his forehead slipping from yours as he bowed his head in a modesty you’d never seen from him. “Thank you.”

“And your hair…the blonde suits you.”

His cheeks grew rosy. “What else do you like about me?”

You traced a finger along his lips. “I quite like these.”

“That’s good, 'cause I think they go quite well with these,” he said, his thumb brushing along your mouth.

“I think so too,” you said. “Though I will say, your mouth can be impossibly irritating sometimes.”

He leaned back, meeting your eyes. "So far you've called me an idiot, a twat, impossibly irritating, and a fucking scoundrel. It's a good thing I like you, else I could have you locked in a Ravkan prison for saying such treasonous things."

You swept a hand through his hair, pecked a kiss on the tip of his nose. "I never said anything you didn't deserve."

"Perhaps." He flashed a diplomatic smile. "I may need an apology though. My pride is a bit bruised.”

“Will a kiss suffice?”

He hummed, gently thumbing at your lips again. “Only one way to find out.”

……….

It took another day in the village for Nikolai to recover, but once he was more mobile and not completely dependent on you, you continued your journey to Novokribirsk. It took all day with one stop for lunch, but you finally made it to the city.

You had a cheery reunion with the twins. Tolya gave you the tightest hug you’d ever experienced, and Tamar laughed as she brought you in as well. She was a little more gentle, but only a little. They both missed you, and they missed Nikolai of course. They didn’t squeeze him quite as tight as you warned them of his injuries. 

“We’ll have him fixed up after dinner,” Tolya said, poking at Nikolai’s gold hair. He looked at you. “Quick thinking with the manual heart pumping, Rietveld.”

You nodded your thanks, and the four of you made your way to get food. Nikolai and Tolya fell into step beside one another ahead of you and Tamar stuck beside you, updating you about what she and her brother got up to while you’d been separated. They seemed to do pretty well by themselves, but she said they missed you and your shared captain as the trifles of sibling life drove her up the wall a couple of times.

“And how about you two, how did you fare?” she asked.

You blinked at her. “Fine. Yeah, it was fine.”

“That’s good,” she said, eyes narrowed just slightly.

“Rietveld!” Nikolai cheered over his shoulder. “Tolya doesn’t believe that there was a fete at the town we stayed in the other day.”

“I only said I couldn’t believe you let me miss it!” Tolya defended himself. “I love a good fete, especially a fete for saints. They always have the best food.”

“Well, I promise you didn’t miss much,” you told the heartrender.

“Only my near-death.” Nikolai gave you a teasing pout that evaporated into his shimmering grin. You quickly glanced at Tolya, spotting an odd look he threw to his sister. “And a rather fun puppet show. But otherwise, I agree with my second.”

You watched Nikolai turn back around and continue a new topic with Tolya, listening as best as you could from your slight distance, but enjoying the prattle nonetheless. He looked back at you a few times, smiling brighter than the sun every time he did.

You didn’t notice how long you kept staring at Nikolai until Tamar let out a scoff from beside you. When you snapped your head to her she gave you a suspicious look. 

"What, is there something on my face?" You asked. 

"Actually, yeah," she said, and laughed when you rubbed at your cheek. "Saints, Rietveld, I only meant to point out that you're grinning."

"Am I not allowed to grin?"

"You're allowed. But it's a little funny that you're grinning at the same time that your heart is beating incredibly loud. Even more funny that both these things happen whenever your travel companion up there glances back at you."

You pursed your lips. "He's looking back at both of us, just making sure we're all still together."

"I assure you, he's not looking at me." She tilted her head at you, lowering her voice just a touch more. "Did something happen between you two?"

"No."

"Your heart skips when you lie."

"Tamar," you whined.

She raised her hands. "I don’t judge. If something happened–perhaps something romantic–I'm happy for you, both of you."

The arrival at a restaurant halted the conversation, but you gave an appreciative press of your hand to Tamar’s shoulder.

……….

After dinner the four of you stayed with the associate of Nikolai's. But your host only had two free single beds, which you insisted Tamar and Tolya take. That left one couch and a few blankets on the floor of the living room for you and Nikolai, but neither of you minded; there seemed to be an unspoken agreement between you that you would be sleeping together from now on, so if that meant you were sleeping on the floor, then so be it.

The pair of you laid out the blankets on the floor after the others had all gone to bed. You paused for a moment, your eyes following Nikolai as he fluffed his pillow. You absentmindedly carded a finger through his golden hair.

“You really have to go red again?” You asked him.

He set down his pillow and turned to you. “Yes, my dear.”

You sat down on the blankets, glancing at Nikolai. “I suppose that’s alright. Sturmhond is pretty handsome.”

“I’m glad you think so. You’ll be seeing him for a while after tomorrow.”

You didn't mind that, his tailored appearance was just as attractive as his true form, though you were a little attached to his hazel eyes and blonde hair. But he was returning to an image you were also familiar with, so it couldn't be bad.

“So," you began. "Tamar knows about you and me.”

“I figured she would.” He eased onto his back, beckoning you to join him. "Was she tough on you?"

You shimmied nearer to him. "No, she was fine, just teased me a little."

"Couldn't be worse than Tolya's reaction."

"Tolya knows?"

"He's a heartrender too, remember? I don't imagine he wouldn’t know." He drew his thumb over your knuckles. "He kept quoting poetry and saying I should speak the passages to you to 'further your attraction to me.'"

"Please don't ever quote one of Tolya's passages to me."

"I can't make any promises. One of his poems was actually quite sweet."

You sidled up to Nikolai, hugging around his middle and relishing in him and the warmth he emanated. You pressed a kiss to the underside of his jaw. "Let's hear it, then."

His words reverberated through your head as you lay there on his chest. The rumbling gave you peace, and you closed your eyes. You'd never been as calm and content as this. You might just have to thank Nikolai for the tranquility he brought you. But before he finished his poem, before you could tell him how peaceful he made you, you drifted off to sleep, only Nikolai on your mind.

..........

FOURTH YEAR - KAZ 

The streets of Ketterdam weren't particularly crowded as Kaz made his way to the Crow Club. He passed by the Fifth Harbour, stopping for a moment to stare at the ships and schooners. He would still be early for his work if he stayed there for a couple minutes. Besides, it hadn't been a spectacular week of business at the Crow club, just the usual, and he knew he wouldn't be missed if he was only on time and not fifteen minutes early as he usually was.

He was glad to have a job and a place with the Dregs. His job was fine, not great, and he worked hard to make himself known among the liars and cheats whose world he had entered. But Kaz wanted more.

He was thirteen and hungry. He hadn't felt the pangs of starvation since joining the Dregs, but he felt a similar ache as he watched men like his leader, Per Haskell, build his empire on the backs of people like Kaz. He saw these men and he saw their weak spots, the tremours in their brows and the softness in their hearts; they would topple one day, someone just had to pull the rug out from beneath them.

But Kaz was patient. He wasn't his brother, rushing into Pekka Rollins trap under the pretense that he and his siblings could make a fortune off their small inheritance. Kaz had a determination that would see him through. And one day, he would be strong enough to be a leader with riches his siblings never could have dreamed of. 

Kaz surveyed the rotting docks and run-down schooners bobbing in the water of the Fifth Harbour. It was a shame the spot wasn't nicer; properly fixed up, it would be a great location for tourists and merchandise to flood into the Barrel. It killed him a little to wonder how much money there was to be made here, how much potential was being overlooked.

He watched one of the ship's masts as it nudged side to side in the wind. It was blustery nights like this that he pictured his sister on one of those schooners, sailing away to a brand new life. He often wondered where she left for after the Queen's Lady plague had run its course. It did him no good to dwell on the matter, but he couldn't help the morbid little curiosity.

The first thing Kaz did once he was off the sickboat and on dry land again was go to the office she worked at. He stood outside all day and night, waiting for her to go in or out, but she didn't show. Of course, Stadwatch saw a grimy little boy outside the glimmering building and cleared him away. Still, Kaz went back every day that week and watched for his sister.

He tried to file a missing person's report with the Stadwatch, tried to find anyone who might help him find his only remaining family, but no one took him seriously. When he told people his story they all seemed to come to the same conclusion. His sister either moved on and sailed away, or she trifled with the wrong people and was dead in an alley somewhere. 

But Kaz knew his sister, knew she was the most sensible person in Kerch; she would steer completely clear of any swindlers or brutes, especially after what happened with Hertzoon--or Pekka Rollins, as Kaz had discovered. She didn't have Jordie around anymore to talk her into trouble. No, it was more likely that she was halfway across the world.

It was four years now since the scam, the sickness, since his sister left, and Kaz found himself in the Harbour more and more. Sometimes he passed it by, other times he would sit by the nearest building and look at the bobbing masts as though they were trees waving in the breeze. He would sit there and wait for a ship to come in that might carry her.

If she came back, Kaz could shrug off the name he gave himself and be a Rietveld again. His family could move back to the countryside, or they could leave Kerch all together. He didn't care. He just wanted his sister back. He just didn't want to be alone anymore.

..........

A/N: Thanks for reading! Feel free to like, reblog, and comment if you want to read more, I really appreciate the feedback! The next part will take a little while. If you want to be tagged please comment on this part or send me an ask. Otherwise, I hope you have a great day/night :)

Part 5

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