#darkling x gn reader

[er-osion]

Enchanted

pairing: Nikolai Lantsov x gn!Reader

summary: A fic based on the song Enchanted by Taylor Swift. Reader is a leading grisha who ends up working with the golden prince of Ravka, how mysteriously enchanting it is that something so sweet can bloom from such terrible circumstances

word count: 2.1k

warnings: none, fluff

you can see the full taylor swift song-fic masterlist here

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The war-room of the Spinning Wheel was dimly lit and terribly furnished, considering its importance. The large circular table was covered from end to end with maps of Ravka. Voices swam furiously over one another, sounds layering in a way that made your skin itch. For all its space and all the people that filled it, the room felt uncomfortably vacant and stale. Your eyes shifted from person to person, each with their own opinions on what was the best next move.

Suddenly someone cleared their voice and all the noise in the room fell. Your gaze flickered up to the origin of the sound and found yourself staring at the Prince –or King, you suppose. All attention was brought to the blonde haired man, his hazel eyes shining in the candlelight.

“It doesn’t matter how vital it is to capture Krenyoska, if we don’t have the supplies to make the journey there and back, the point is moot. I agree, that venture should remain a top priority, but if the primary goal is to get there then we first must acquire all the necessary provisions.” The Prince’s tenor rang throughout the room, bouncing off the empty walls with authority. His face looked young, his skin youthful, but his eyes held the surety of a seasoned General, and his voice carried the insistence of a King. There was a murmur of agreement across the table, but some still took up to point out errors in the King-to-be’s declaration.

“And you suppose these supplies will just fall off a tree, Your Highness? How do we get the provisions we need? If the capturing of Krenyoska is really this involved, we should just focus our attention on another city.” A First Army lieutenant pushed. You watched closely as the Prince digested the lieutenant’s response, clearly putting together a rebuttal.

“Letting Krenyoska fall into the Darkling’s hands would be a grave mistake on our part. Securing the supplies needed for a mission to Krenyoska is not as involved as you seem to think, lieutenant, it would take barely half a week.” His blonde hair bounced as he nodded his head in agreement with his own assertion. Others in the room followed suit. The Prince opened his mouth to continue and his gaze suddenly flicked to meet your’s.

You felt your spine straighten, almost like you’d been caught redhanded at something you shouldn’t be doing. All the room felt dark, the only light present poured from Nikolai and his golden eyes that held yours in a battle of chicken. It was mere seconds, but the unexpected eye contact left you strangely shaken. Then he continued with his point and the moment ended. It was so brief, so inconsequential, but your heart had picked up speed. You hoped none of the corporalki in the room were paying attention to you. You fixed your attention onto your notes, determined to shake the strange feeling that had come over you. However, your eyes quickly found his figure again. Like a magnet, they were pulled to the young Prince no matter how hard you tried to divert them elsewhere.

There was something inexplicably enchanting about Nikolai Lantsov. You swore he sparkled in the poor lighting, exuding confidence and suave.

Throughout the rest of the meeting, you and Nikolai shared wary glances at one another. Your eyes danced around each other, daring the other to look away first. The damnable Prince kept up a smirk that had you questioning whether to throw a fist or a wink. You opted for neither, only keeping up the eye contact and taking notes on the important decisions made in the meeting.

Finally, you spoke up when some of the others at the table had gotten rowdy trying to determine order of operations. “We should send two platoons to our base near Lukinshya. While they’re on the move, the soldiers at the base can prepare for a campaign through the town and one of the neighboring cities, civilly collecting the supplies we’d need for Krenyoska. Once that operation is fulfilled, and the platoons from the Spinning Wheel have returned, the preparation for Krenyoska should be nearly done. Then we can quickly mobilize to take the target city.” You fought back the nerves of presenting your idea to the council. There was something weirdly vulnerable about offering a plan to your colleagues. You maintained control of your expression, hoping to demonstrate a confidence you may not necessarily feel but know you have earned.

Thankfully, Zoya spoke up first in support. “Indeed, if we go with that plan, the two operations could follow each other in quick succession which would give the Darkling less time to bring up any counter offensives.” You suppressed a proud smile at Zoya’s words. She met your gaze and gave the smallest of approving nods, and you returned one likewise.

“Agreed. I do believe that’s the most cohesive plan that’s developed this whole meeting. Commanders, get platoons 33 and 51 ready for departure as soon as possible and send word to the base in Lukinshya. Part A should be carried out no later than two week’s time. We’ll adjourn for the night, thank you for your time everybody.” Nikolai’s voice rang out strongly, wrapping everything up neatly in a bow. The room nodded their heads and uttered pleasantries as they collected their things and filed out of the door.

Your eyes snapped to the commanding figure across from you, not expecting him to already be watching you and drinking up your reaction. There was something in his eyes that seemed to say, ‘Have we met?’. There was a curiosity shining in his eyes, but you revealed nothing, not quite sure how to answer him anyways. Instead, you gave him a half smile, bowed, and left the room.

Nikolai Lantsov’s eyes followed you as you slipped out of the room. It took him a moment to realize he’d been holding his breath. The first time you’d met his gaze in the meeting he felt his heart stutter. There was something so gravitating about you. In the gloom of the war room and its subsequent discussions, your presence washed the loneliness away and replaced it with warmth. He’d tried to let it go, blaming this odd perception on the poor lighting and glum mood. But everytime your eyes locked, Nikolai felt himself gaining more and more consciousness.

Then you spoke. And Nikolai had never known a sound so pleasant. And as he absorbed your words, so smooth and well-thought out, your allure grew tenfold. He’d wanted you to stay in the room. He wanted to say something to you but he couldn’t find any words. You were simply enchanting, in the most confusing of ways. You were so familiar yet so distant at the same time and it was sending the poor Prince into a fit of dizziness.

The next time you saw each other was in passing in the upper halls of the Spinning Wheel.

Nikolai was making quick strides to get to an office of one of the First Army commanders when he caught sight of you. You were strolling past a window, reading a file regarding the effectiveness of last month’s training regiment. The sunlight streaming through the glass blanketed your figure in magical light and the young Prince was transported back to the palace, many years prior.

He saw you in your kefta, rushing through the gilded halls, slipping between guards and servants to wherever you had to be in such haste. This wasn’t the first time he’d seen you before. Only fleetingly, but he had seen you a handful of times making your way between the Grand and Little Palaces. You never failed to look radiant in your kefta. That was the conclusion Nikolai Lanstov had drawn all those years ago, and it was the conclusion he drew now.

You felt someone watching you intently and turned around to find the perpetrator to be none other than the man that had been haunting your dreams for weeks now. A flash of surprise rippled across your face as you caught the young Lantsov watching you. You tilted your head in confusion but didn’t do anything to suggest he’d put you off.

Nikolai took a deep breath and stalked over to where you’d stopped across the hall. The blonde Prince came to a halt in front of you, much closer than required for a conversation between acquaintances, you noted.

“Congratulations, by the way.” Nikolai started with satisfaction.

“I beg your pardon, ‘congratulations’ for what, Your Highness?” Your brows knitted in confusion.

“The success of your plan. I’m pretty sure Colonel Vrontresky turned as red as those tomatoes he loves to eat when he heard of the triumphant outcome.” Nikolai explained easily, as if it were obvious why he would be congratulating you.

You shrugged, brushing off his remark but appreciating his sentiment internally. “If you’re going to congratulate anyone, it should be the soldiers who took part, but I appreciate your compliments. And for the record, I believe Colonel Vrontresky’s red-faced complexion is more thanks to his undying devotion to kvas.” You returned coolly. You watched closely from the corner of your eyes Nikolai’s reaction to your last statement. You were satisfied when his pink lips pulled slowly into a mischievous grin, hazel eyes flashing with pleasant surprise.

“I’d say be careful with such a statement, should Vrontresky hear you, but I doubt his ears reach all the way from the bar,” You coughed to cover up a snort and the Prince continued proudly, “You’ll be attending the next war-council meeting, right?’

You nodded, and turned to resume your walk with the Prince keeping pace. “Unfortunately for all present, I will.” You joked and Nikolai chuckled but shook his head in disagreement.

“I doubt Zoya or David would agree with such a statement,” or me, he wanted to add, “but surely you’ll make a show of putting a few people in their place.”

“Do you hold some grudges against your commanding officers, moi tsarevich?” You teased coly, glancing up at the Price to find all his attention on you.

“It would not be very kingly of me to admit to such immature temperaments, but I will say that, should you decide to, I would take great delight in seeing a few men stuttering in submission.” Nikolai’s words were filled with mischief and you smirked at the picture he painted.

“Well then, I guess I must shoulder this burden, as it is my duty to serve the throne.” You responded with fake solemnity. “I only hope I live through their wrath.”

“Let me assure you, should you perish on this noble quest, I will throw the grandest funeral Ravka has ever seen. A true war hero, celebrated as deserved.” Nikolai responded with equally serious assurance, but his smiling eyes gave away the rascally theme of your conversation.

The two of you continued bouncing playful banter off of each other for the entire walk to the office you’d been originally making your way to. The conversation was surprisingly easy. You’d never warmed up to a person as quickly as you did with the Golden Prince of Ravka. You wanted to blame that on his characteristic charm and appeal.

The air between the two of you was alight with magic. There was so much electricity between the two of you, you were surprised your hair wasn’t growing staticy.

When the two of you reached the doors of your destination, the atmosphere suddenly grew heavy. The banter died out and for the first time there was silence. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but it was still an unfortunate reminder that your moment together must come to an end. You straightened in front of the Prince and searched for the proper thing to say but came up with nothing. Damn him and his distractingly enticing face, which you swore was crafted by the most skilled artist. You were struck with the realization that being with the Prince was a disarmingly pleasant experience, and you suddenly hoped he knew that.

Nikolai cleared his throat and you just barely missed how he momentarily bounced on the balls of his feet. “Well, I must say, it has been enchanting to meet you. I’ll be looking forward to seeing you soon.” Nikolai smirked triumphantly and pressed your hand gently before turning and leaving you at the door. You didn’t know this, but his own destination had been in the opposite direction.

You felt your face warm and butterflies erupt in your stomach, tickling your heart. You spent that night rolling over his final words, your smile widening with each remembrance. You were certain all the world sparkled when he was around. And Nikolai was equally sure that he’d never met someone as dazzling as you.

[hottpinkpenguin]

kirigan one shot, where the reader(fem) treats his face wounds and he feels at ease becuz for some reason her gift releases him from his pain, he cries(sobbing)all leading up to a very sad yet soft, fluffy end. as much as I hate him, I feel like the man just desperately needs a hug from someone

A/n: he really does need a hug, and i totally volunteer. thanks for the request anon!!

Darkling X Grisha GN!Reader Word Count: 2769 Warnings: mild mentions of blood

You held your hands over the boy’s ghastly leg wound, the flesh underneath stitching itself together slowly. His broken, chesty sobs slowed as you poured your gift onto his wound. You felt the toll an entire day of healing was taking on you, but the boy on the stretcher beneath you was too young to turn away. His blue eyes softened as you heard the bone snap back into place, his ankle turning to its correct angle. You focused, your head beginning to ring and swim with exhaustion as you channeled the Small Science down to his leg. Nearby, you heard his parents begin to pray over you, his mother weeping noisily. 

When the wound was completely closed up and the worst of the bruising faded, you dropped your hands and let go of the grip on your powers. You had to steady yourself on the edge of the bed to keep from falling. Your vision was dotted with white, your ears sounded like they’d been filled with cotton. You heard your cousin Donovan usher the family out of your Healer’s tent as the parents profusely thanked him, trying to offer him their money, a goat, and whatever precious items that could think of.

You sank onto the bed, dabbing at the sweat on your brow as you fought off a wave of dizziness. Your breath was ragged like you’d just run for miles. The destruction left by the group of mercenaries that had torn through the bordertown had felt never ending, but you were grateful to know the boy was the last person who’d need your services. You’d need to sleep for days to recover. 

“Y/n, there’s one more.” 

You could hear the apology in Donovan’s voice when he spoke. He’d poked his head in through the tent flap, dark bags under his eyes.

You shook your head, guilt-ridden. “Donovan, I can’t, I’m sorry. Please ask one of the other Healers.” 

“He asked for you specifically.” Something about Donovan’s voice grabbed you. You looked at him, questions swirling in your eyes. He only tilted his head at you meaningfully before stepping aside. 

A tall man clad in dark robes stepped into your tent. His eyes were so dark you couldn’t see his pupils, his hair the color of obsidian, with four ragged black scars traversing his handsome face. Something about him was so… familiar. 

You tried to rise from the bed, but your legs wobbled and you felt yourself pitch forward.

The stranger reacted quickly and agilely, leaping forward to catch you before you hit the ground. 

“You’re exhausted,” he observed. His voice sounded dark and heavy with a sorrow that hovered around him like a fog.

He helped you back onto the cot, its surface damp with sweat and blood from the day’s patients. The dark-eyed stranger looked around the tent, surveying the scene with intent eyes. Finally, his gaze found yours again. 

“I’m sorry to have bothered you,” he announced gallantly. “I can see you’ve done enough for one day.” 

He turned, his black robes whirling around him with a dramatic flourish. You caught a fleeting glance of his side profile: a straight nose, strong jaw, dark brows framing darker eyes. Proud mouth with a slight downturn at the corners. 

General Kirigan.

Recognition slammed into you like a freight train. You’d only seen him once before and from afar, but you’d never forget. But he was dead, wasn’t he? Your mind went blank for a moment as you watched him move towards the open flap on your tent.

“Wait!” 

He hesitated at the edge of your tent, half turning back to you. 

“General?” Your voice was small and questioning. 

He turned fully back to you, the lamplight illuminating those ghastly scars across his face. The flesh at the seam of the wounds was discolored, as if the marks were poisoned. You’d never seen scars like that before. 

He gave you a small, bashful smile, dropping his gaze.

“Aleksander will do nicely,” he answered you. It was him. 

“But… the Fold? We… I thought you were dead…” Your voice trailed off as you realized how silly you sounded. Why should General Kirigan care what an untrained Healer at the edge of Ravka thought of his fate?

But, much to your surprise, he walked back towards you with a polite smile, his courtly manners on full display. 

“For a moment, so did I.” The smile turned sour on his lips, leaving behind a mangled looking grimace. You felt his heartbeat stutter in his chest, your powers attuned to him like a magnet. You tried to find something to say, your mind still reeling from the shock of finding Ravka’s most famous Grisha in your lowly tent. 

Whatever momentary reverie he’d been swept up in, he surfaced quickly and regained his footing. The flash of pain you’d seen in his expression smoothed back into a mask of graciousness. 

“But, as you can see, I survived. Although… these scars.” His hand came to his face, barely touching the largest, deepest gash that stretched from his right temple across his nose and down the smooth plane of his left cheek. He winced at the contact, however light. “They… pain me. I was told your powers are… up to the task.” 

You blinked dumbly for a moment as his words sank in. 

“You… came here for me?” The notion seemed impossible, but the Black General nodded. 

“I did.” No explanation, no answer to the million questions running through your head. You wondered where to start. What to ask. 

You hesitated a few moments before you realized you were talking to a patient. The famed Shadow Summoner, yes. But a patient still. 

You stood quickly from the cot, adrenaline surging through your exhausted body just enough to keep you upright. You had the wherewithal to be embarrassed by the conditions of the tent. You yanked the stained sheets off the cot, balling them in your hands. 

“I’m so sorry,” you spluttered, shoving the sheets into a corner of the tent. You had no new ones to add to the cot, and very little in the way of creature comforts to offer to notable guests. For his part, the General didn’t seem to mind, his eyes following you as you bustled about, straightening the pillows on the bare mattress and trying to brush down the stray hairs that had broken loose from your braids, curling at the temples from the humid summer night and your own exertion. 

“There’s nothing to apologize for,” he assured you kindly. You beckoned to the mattress once it was as presentable as you could make it. Aleksander sat on it without hesitation, that same genteel smile on his handsome face. “There’s often no time for the niceties when our powers are needed.” 

Your curiosity was piqued by his comment, but you were too flustered to ask anything of it. He adjusted on the squeaky mattress, remaining upright with his hands clasped in his lap. You pulled a stool over from the corner of the tent and placed it next to his right leg, balancing your weight on it. 

“What needs healing?” you asked, retreating to your role of Healer in order to escape your own embarrassment. 

He gestured to the scars again. You swallowed thickly, examining them carefully and trying to avoid his gaze. He studied you intently, his expression calm and unreadable. 

“I’ve never seen scars like this,” you admitted. “I don’t know how to heal these.” 

He nodded, a flicker of disappointment in his eyes. “They are from a Volcra,” he offered by way of explanation, noting the shock on your face. “I do indeed doubt that you’ve seen scars like these before. Whether your gifts work or not, I would be much obliged if you were to try.” 

You nodded earnestly, wiping your hands on the front of the nurses apron you wore. Although you didn’t use the conventional tools of a doctor, you found that people trusted you when you looked more like what they expected. You’d never been trained as a Grisha for the Second Army anyways, so you had no red Kefta to wear like the Healers of Kirigan’s ranks. 

You let your mind loosen its grip on the nerves as you felt yourself sink into the role of Healer. Kirigan nodded at you, sensing the change in tone as you lifted your hands to the side of his face. 

You tapped into the well of your powers that sat at the center of your chest. You had to reach deep, your reserves sapped from the day. But you felt it, the warm energy of the Small Science, and grasped it. With effortful concentration, you pushed the energy up into your shoulders and down the length of your arms into your palms and fingers. Then, you launched it into the space between your fingertips and the General’s face, allowing the Small Science to do the rest. For several moments, nothing happened. The black scars stared back at you unchanged. You dug deeper, pulling all the healing energy you could find buried in you and forcing it into your hands. You were trembling by the end of it, the attempt completely draining you. 

“Here. Let me help you.” You watched with confusion as Aleksander lifted his hands from his lap, until his fingertips barely touched your exposed wrists. As his skin made contact with yours, you felt a new dimension of energy open up to you. Like you’d been standing on the other side of a veil, the force of your powers tripled in a surge of warmth. 

You struggled with the extra effort of channeling the new powers, your concentration narrowing to nothing but your hands and the scars. You felt the power pulse with the inhale and exhale of your own breath, and after a few surges you began to see the skin around Aleksander’s scars start to mend itself. Like wind wiping away ridges in sand, the scars slowly shrunk, one excruciating millimeter at a time. 

Even with whatever added power Aleksander had gifted you by his touch, you felt your body begin to tire. Your head started to pound, your eyelids becoming heavy. 

Aleksander must have noticed too, because he very gently pulled your hands away from his face after a few more moments of effort. When the distance between your hands and his face was too great for your powers to traverse, you felt your body crumple in an exhausted heap on the stool. You let your head hang heavy, your chest heaving. You closed your eyes, breathing through the dull roar in your ears. 

You weren’t sure how long passed - probably only a few breaths. Your awareness came back slowly. You slowly lifted your head, your eyes coming to focus on Aleksander’s face. He hadn’t moved from his seat on the bare mattress at the center of the tent, and you noted with a swell of pride that his scars were noticeably smaller and less disfiguring. 

It took you a second to realize that there were tears pooling in his dark eyes. One loosed itself and traced a slow trail down his unmarred cheek. He was looking at you with a mixture of awe and gratitude, a new smile on his lips. 

“What was that?” you asked bluntly, looking at his hands. “What did you do?” 

“Nothing you couldn’t do yourself,” he replied cryptically. His voice sounded lighter. “I just gave you a boost to reach the full strength of your powers.” 

You couldn’t hazard a guess as to what that meant, or how to interpret what you’d just experienced. Your attention was turning elsewhere as another tear sprang free from his eyes. 

“Normally people stop crying after I’ve healed them,” you observed quietly. “Have I hurt you?” 

His expression turned somber and serious, the gentle smile melting from his lips. 

“No, y/n. You didn’t hurt me. Quite the opposite, actually. I can’t remember the last time I felt this way. I feel almost… free.” 

You weren’t sure if it was the fatigue or the weight in Aleksander’s voice, but your heart ached at his words. Acting on an instinct, you leaned forward and brushed away a teardrop with your thumb against his jawline. You pulled back hesitantly, afraid you’d crossed a line. Aleksander’s hand caught yours. You felt your powers rumbling in response to whatever magic lived in his skin, your heart skipping a beat as he held your hand to his cheek. 

“I’d ask if we could stay a while. Please.” 

You swallowed, uncertain for a moment. You could only imagine what Donovan and the other Healers you traveled with along the Ravkan border would think. Donovan certainly would have told everyone within earshot about who was in your tent by now, if they hadn’t seen the Black General themselves. What would they think if he lingered too long?

You watched as Aleksander’s expression turned from pleading to naked desperation and immediately made your decision. You nodded, unable to deny him a small comfort he so desperately needed. 

His eyes fluttered closed as he nodded gratefully. “Thank you,” he breathed out, nuzzling his cheek against the palm of your hand. “No need to go further,” he added, following your train of thought to the questions you were too afraid to ask. “I’m not asking for your body. Just your presence.”

You felt yourself relax as the sincerity of Aleksander’s words wrapped around you. You let your thumb stroke gently back and forth along the plane of his cheek. His eyes were still closed, and you saw him continue to breathe deeply. 

“What brought you here?” you asked cautiously after a few moments of quiet. 

His eyes opened gently, and you were once again struck by how very dark his irises were. 

“I found myself in need of a Healer with skills beyond just mending flesh. Rumor of your talents reached me. And I was…” His voice trailed off, his eyes glazing over as he became lost in thought for a moment. “I was out of options. These scars aren’t the only wounds I suffered in the Fold.” 

You nodded as if you understood, although in truth you didn’t. You’d heard from some of your past patients that you were more than just a Healer, but you never knew what to make of those statements, so you’d always dismissed them as expressions of gratitude. Most of your patients were otkazat'sya - non-Grisha - so it was particularly easy to explain away their superstitions about your powers. To hear it from the Black General made your mind reel. You tried to tamp down the selfish part of you that was itching to ask more. 

“I’m glad I could help,” you stammered out blandly. Aleksander sighed, leaning against your hand for one more moment before he smiled and began to rise from the cot. 

“I won’t keep you, I can see how exhausted you are.” You rose along with him, trailing after him like a nervous puppy as he made to move towards the tent flap. 

“Those scars aren’t completely healed,” you observed. “I could accompany you, General. If you’d like.” You were astounded by your own boldness, and you weren’t sure if you offered because of how devastatingly handsome he was or because you sensed how deeply he needed your powers. 

He hesitated at the edge of your tent, turning back to face you with a pained look of regret on his face. 

“A kind offer,” he replied softly. “But one I can’t accept, I’m afraid.”

You interrupted his exit again, a restless energy inside you imploring him not to leave. “Why not?” 

He didn’t stop this time, although you heard his quiet answer perfectly clear. “I have a knack for ruining beautiful things, and I would not wish such a fate on you.”

General Kirigan vanished into the warm summer night like a shadow. His visit had been so fleeting and unusual that you questioned whether you’d dreamt the whole thing in some sort of exhausted fever dream. It wasn’t until the following week, when you received a fresh set of bedsheets and new nurse’s apron from a mysterious donor, that you began to believe your own memory. There was a note tucked into the sheets, written on crisp parchment paper in the darkest ink you’d ever seen:

For the healer who mends more than what can be seen

You saved the note, if only to prove to yourself that it hadn’t been a dream after all…

[infin1ty-garden]

GUARDIAN ANGEL

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳ ✦ summary: hearing rumors of the fountain of youth and finally finding a heading, nikolai decides to follow the rumors ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳ ✦ pairing: nikolai lanstov x gn! siren! reader ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳ ✦ warnings: drowing, darkling, a bit of spice ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳ ✦ word count: 2k ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳ ✦ author note: inspired by this and sorry for not posting in a while I was on vacation

masterlist.

"Are we sure that compass even works?" Asked Tamar swaying from side to side due to the heavy rain and storm they were passing through. "It points to what the holder wants most. I think the instructions are pretty clear," Nikolai's attention only being on the compass. It's arrow spinning from one direction to another.

"You are going to crash the ship," yelled Mal as he fell down sliding to the other end of the ship. "Don't worry we're almost there," and then he let go of the wheel entirely. Tolya grabbed it but as if they'd entered another dimension. The storm was nowhere in site and not that far away, an island.

"See, I was right," as he said that the ship hit something causing him to fall overboard. He tried to swim up but the waves kept crashing in on him. He could hear people yelling for him and orders being thrown around. They turned incoherent as he sunk deeper.

He felt two hands taking hold of his arms as he was lifted out of the water in seconds. Once he managed to open his eyes, he was miles from the ship. He wanted to turn and see his saviour. "Don't strain your body too much, just relax your safe," he heard the most angelic voice say.

In a blink of an eye his feet met the sand. He coughed up what felt like half the ocean. When he turned to thank his saviour they were nowhere to be seen. Had he imagined it? Then he saw it, his ship being attacked by sire

But he could not help his crew. If he even attempted to swim to them, he would be instantly attacked. His gun was wet, so it was useless, and what could he do with a sword. All he could do was watch and hope they make it.

Most of the crew was alright. No deaths but they had to dry dock the ship, as going in the row boats would have been a death wish. Now, they had to find the chalices. "Captain," Tamar handed him a spyglass. Looking through it he saw Second Army flags. The Darkling was here or his grisha were.

"How did they get here before us?" Alina asked bewildered. "It doesn't matter we just need to get the chalices before them," he really should have better timing. "Hand over the map," the Darkling appeared, along with his forces. "There's no map," Nikolai replied, confidence radiating off of him in waves.

Then one by one his grisha disappeared until he was the only one left standing. "You and what army," Kirigan looks behind himself. Worry coating his face but then he smirked. "I don't need an army," as he raised his hands the sand beneath his feet disappeared. He dropped down into the newly formed puddle like it was a slide.

"Well, that happened," all anyone could do was nod along to Mal's statement. As they continued on following the compass, it seemed to lead them in circles. "I think your magic compass stopped working," Alina gave him a sympathetic look. "We have more company. Tamar reported seeing Fjerdan and Shu ships," great just what they needed.

"We still need the two chalices. Let me give that map a try," Mal took the map from Nikolai. The map was written in a language no one could understand. It wasn't in Fjerdan, Kerch, Ravkan, Shu, Zemeni, Suli, or even Old Ravkan. But now that they were actually on the island, they could at least recognise the landmarks drawn. Mal's tracking skill would finally come in handy.

After spending hours walking, they've decided to make camp and rest for a bit. They couldn't let the Fjerdans or the Shu be the first to discover the secret to the fountain. As Nikolai was starting to close his eyes, he heard a splash of water near him. He looked to where he assumed the sound came from and was met with the most beautiful pair of eyes.

Was this the person that saved him? He couldn't be sure. He slowly moved towards the person, worried that any sudden movement might scare them away. "I am not some kind of rabid animal," that voice, his guardian angel. "Your friends are on the west side," you could mean the Fjerdans or the Shu.

"They're not our friends," you sent him a sceptical look. He suddenly remembered why they were on this island in the first place. "You wouldn't know where someone could leave two chalices around here, would you?" At this point Nikolai was fully laying down in the mud that surrounded the pot of water.

His face inches away from it. "Hypothetically, I would know where something like that could be hidden." He smiled and then asked. "Hypothetically, could you show me?" You disappeared, only to emerge a few seconds later. Slowly moving closer to him as he had done only minutes ago.

What you did next was a surprise but not an unwelcome one. You kissed him. It was slow at first, as if giving him the chance to pull away if he so wishes. Instead he placed his palm on the back of your head. Pulling you as close as he can and uped the ferocity of the kiss. You placed your fingers at the bottom of his chin.

Putting slight pressure on it, due to this he opened his mouth. You quickly slipped your tongue in. He felt something foreign enter his system. You quickly pulled away and submerged yourself, only the top part of your face could be seen. Watched him swallow whatever you had just given him. I really hope I don't die from this.

You made a motion with your hand for him to enter the water. Waited for him, as he took off his jacket and shoes. His feet were searching for the bottom of the pond or whatever it was. He felt a hand grab his foot and pull him into the water. "You're taking too long," he realised he could breathe underwater. You gently grabbed his waist and he placed his arm around your neck.

He finally saw your tail. You were a siren. He was so gonna die but why had you saved him and why were you helping him now. He had too many questions. None of which he could ask. As soon as he had entered the water he was out of it. In Front of him was a ship, but none of the text in any language he knew. It did match the art on the map.

"Thank you," you nodded with a smile on your face. He walked closer to the ship. It was suspended in mid air. Wedged in between two huge pieces of stone. How could he get up there?

He finally entered the ship with your help and a lot of trial and error. Each step on the deck was taken with extreme consideration as one wrong move could send the ship falling. Even if the ship seemed to have been here for years with the plants that have taken over the deck. Nikolai didn't want to take any chances.

As he descended down to the lower levels of the ship, he was greeted with copious amount of dust and rot....and gold? But he had little care for it. Maybe after they find the fountain of youth, he could bring some of that gold back to Ravka. One room in the ship was clearly meant for dining. The table comfortably fit nine people.

The seats were filled with skeletons. The stench of the rotten food and empty glasses of wine could signify that these people were poisoned. The ship without a crew was probably left to roam the sea and had met its journey's end. Crashing into the rocks. Or maybe all of them have been stabbed, who knows.

The chalices were nowhere to be found. He went searching different rooms until he reached the captain's quarters. In the middle of the room the captain was sitting a skeleton like the rest of the crew but on the bed next to him a chest. Nikolai made his way to the bed as he did the ship swinged and then the voices came.

He wasn't alone anymore but he recognised one of them as Zoya. He needed to work faster. He got to the chest but it was locked. Nikolai could hear the voices getting closer. The key was laying on the chain around the captain's neck. Unlocking the chest and...nothing, just some documents. Where could the chalises be? He looked in the drawers, desk and finally under the bed.

There was another chest, this one without a lock in it, the chalices inside. Then the door burst open. "Hand them over," before he could think or even form a plan the ship was falling. When he awoke he was tied up, next to him, Zoya. The flags were the first thing he'd recognised, Shu. The second one, that they were tied to a tree. "Finally, the sleeping beauty's awake," one of the guards said.

Whatever they'd done to Zoya, she'd seen better days. Cuts were littering her face and bruises were starting to form. "The others," he'd simply asked. "Probably dead." The guards had left their posts to fetch their superior. In the corner of his eye, Nikolai could see something being thrown next to his feet. A knife, he quickly picked it up and placed it near his hands. Cutting himself and Zoya lose.

"We need to plan our next steps carefully since we don't have our weapons," just as he said that his and what he assumes is Zoya's sword were thrown out of the water. If she had found the ordeal weird, she didn't mention it, just grabbed her sword. "This way, I saw them place the rest of the weapons there."

They managed to escape the camp unseen. "I will let you go but the next time we meet, you won't be given the same courtesy," with that she disappeared in the forest.

The chalices weren't with the weapons. The Shu must have taken them. Then out of nowhere Tamar, Alina, Mal and Tolya come charging past Nikolai. Tamar carrying one chalice while Mal carries the other. "Sturmhond," Alina says just realising he was even there. "Run," yells Tamar as she grabs him.

Then he sees it, the Darkling and his volcra. His feet do the rest as he joins the group running. Hoping to lose him in the woods. "What happened?"

"What happened? Where were you? You left and didn't even tell anyone," Alina retorts.

"I got a lead to where the chalices might be."

"But WE found the chalices."

"And WE are going to lose them if you two don't shut it," Toyla interrupted, silencing them both as they hid. Once they saw the Darkling walk pass. They slowly walk in the other direction. "Where did you find them?"

"Near the entrance to some caves but that was nowhere close to where it had been marked on the map," Mal said in disbelief.

"Let me guess there was a river or some pond close by," Nikolai asked. Mal nodded. "But how could you know, it wasn't marked on the map." Nikolai shrugged. You must have taken them and brought them to his crew. "Now, we just need to find the entrance to the fountain," water splashed nearby. "Give me one moment," he said to the rest of them as he took the map and walked towards the water.

Tamar and Alina followed him. He kneeled down. "Yes," he asked, looking at the water. You slowly lifted your head and swam to where he was kneeling. He held up the map. Mal and Toyla joined the rest. Alina lifted her palms up as Toyla readied his weapon. "You are here and the entrance is here," now they could see the scales coating your arms, along with the tail.

All of them were thinking the same. You're a siren and you're helping them.

Thanks for reading! If you want a part 2 leave a like or comment

[crazyyluvr]

Masterlist

hi! i’m mar, and i’m just here to write about random stuff because motivation strikes me at the weirdest times. my writing’s decent… i think… anyway, here’s my masterlist!

will write:

gn, male, or female reader (not that experienced in male tho, but i want to practice)

fluff

angst

somewhat suggestive content

platonic stuff

romantic stuff

will not write:

nsfw

incest themes

major character death (unless it’s canon)

dark content (yandere type thing)

request status: open!

Fandoms

Marauders Era

sirius black .

The World Wants to Melt my Face Off I Swear- (If the summer heat was not going to back down, you’re just going to take matter into your own hands. And Sirius is all up for it.) — drabble.

remus lupin .

Dealing with the Problem = Breaking the Problem's Nose (You punched another student because he was annoying. Not because you were defending Remus Lupin. Totally not.) — oneshot.

james potter .

A Revelation in Potions (Not Through Amortentia, That's too Generic) (one potions class with you got james questioning his sexuality.) — oneshot.

I think James Likes Beaters! (James can’t get over his new crush when he has a Quidditch game against Ravenclaw — with you as their new Beater.) — oneshot.

regulus black .

coming soon…

Percyverse

luke castellan .

coming soon…

percy jackson .

coming soon…

jason grace .

How to Anger a Demigod as a Horse 101 (one of jason's skills that he's proud of is to be able to calm you down when others try and fail to do so.) — short oneshot.

Overworked, Underappreciated (by the gods) (your urge to prove yourself can cause you to overwork yourself, so jason tries to stop you for doing so — and of course, comforting you during the possible breakdowns that could happen along the way.) — oneshot.

Stop Being Nice to Me, I'm Supposed to be Mad at You (in which Jason gets in an argument with you before a Capture the Flag game and you end up avoiding each other... until you get injured, and Jason couldn't let the previous argument stop him from checking up on you.) — short oneshot.

leo valdez .

LEO APPRECIATION >:( (Leo sometimes (always) wonders what he did to deserve you and whether he still deserved you.) — short oneshot.

Grishaverse

mal oretsev .

coming soon...

aleksander morozova / the darkling / general kirigan .

coming soon...

kaz brekker .

I am the QUEEN of Hearts, Don't Tell Me Otherwise (Having a blind Heartrender has its perks. For Kaz Brekker, having a blind Heartrender that can hear his heartbeat change around her has its disadvantages.) — oneshot.

jesper fahey .

coming soon...

inej ghafa .

coming soon...

nina zenik .

coming soon...

Unorganized

Fluff

e!1610 miles morales x reader (basketball player!miles who dedicates his points to you all the time.) — headcanons.

[usmsgutterson]

Worth It- N.L x gn! reader

All right! This is a request from the lovely @writingmysanity​! Ru, I hope you love this one and thank you so much for sending it in, I’ve missed writing for Nikolai so this request was a joy for me. 

The prompts that were requested were from the angst prompt list and they prompts 5 and 9: “Who did this to you?” “I just need a minute to rest.” 

Fic type- this is angst but the ending is fluffy

Warnings- mentions of bullet wounds and bullets (the reader has a gun wound in their lung) cuts, gashes, spine pain, and broken ribs. 

You’d been leaning against Tolya, thankful that one of his arms had been around your waist, holding you up and keeping the pressure on your feet light so that you didn’t much have to concern yourself with walking, when Nikolai saw you.

The Fjerdans, it seemed, had grown bold. An ambush had gone down at the palaces and you’d been on the front lines of the fight by pure circumstance. The injuries you’d sustained were severe, but Tolya had slowed your heartbeat and all that was left to do was to get to Genya and see if she would be willing to at least ease the pain a bit. 

You’d made it to the war room just in time, so it seemed. 

You watched as Nikolai took in the sight of you. The broken ribs, the large gash along the length of your right leg, the bruises and cuts you’d sustained on your face and neck, a bullet to the right lung and a lot of pain in your spine, likely because of the fact that the adrenaline you’d felt had been wearing off. 

“Who did this to you?” Was his first question as Genya and Tamar cleared the table and Nikolai and Tolya both helped you lay on it. 

“The Fjerdans. An ambush. Hundreds of soldiers, likely Druskelle. They’re storming the palaces.”

Nikolai took your hand, pressed a kiss to your knuckles as Zoya summoned a burst of wind through your body, managing to get the bullet out of your lung well enough that Tamar could grab it. She took it carefully as Tolya lowered your heartrate and you gave Nikolais hand a reassuring squeeze. 

Genya summoned her small science in turn. You felt a slight itch as the bullet hole in your lung closed itself up, relief when you realized you could breathe a bit better in the aftermath.

Genya healed the worst of your injuries. The broken ribs, the gash in your leg. She alleviated some of the pain in your spine and let you be, knowing that you didn’t mind the scars that the cuts on your shoulders and face would leave behind, giving your hand a squeeze as she helped you sit up and you thanked her. 

You pulled a hand through your hair, tried to ignore the pain in your spine to no avail. The pain was there, and it seemed as though it was there to stay. 

“I’ll kill every last bloody one of them, then,” Nikolai said, pairing it with a shrug of his shoulders as though that decision was the easiest decision he’d ever made. “The only ones who get to keep their souls will be the ones who escape. How are our defenses?”

“Everything is well enough,” Tolya said. “They’re following the orders we’ve put in place in case of an ambush. The Druskelle will last twelve hours at this rate.”

Nikolai sighed as you grabbed his hand, grimaced at the pain in your spine and gave it a squeeze on instinct.

“You’re all right?” Nikolai asked you as you moved to lay down again, knowing that your spine needed a bit of time to relax and decompress. 

“I just need a minute to rest.” 

Nikolai nodded, worry and adoration both flashing across his eyes. You grinned, pressed a quick kiss to his lips.

“I’ll be fine,” you said. “You do what you need to do to handle it. I played my part, and now my spine resents me for it. I need to rest.”

“I’ll bring you the biscuits you like when all is said and done.”

“Damn right you will,” you said, laughing slightly as you spoke.

You let Genya and Tolya help you to stand, pressed one last quick kiss to Nikolais lips as you moved into the Darklings chambers. 

You let Tolya lower your heart and help you get to sleep quicker, finding it more convenient than to just lay in bed until your mind finally found the will to sleep off some of the pain in your spine. 

You slept dreamlessly.

-

Later, you awoke to the feeling of Nikolais arms around your waist and grinned to yourself as he pressed a kiss to the side of your head.

“Love you,” he whispered as he pressed his chin lightly against your shoulder. “We’ve handled everything; the Fjerdans are gone. We’ll be able to sleep in our own bed tomorrow night, but we’re stuck here tonight as a safety precaution.”

You turned around in his arms, pulled him closer to you as you felt his hand on your face and his lips against your forehead. You still felt like hell, but you were in the arms of the man you loved, so you decided it was worth it. 

[thedelusionreaderbitch]

Kaz Brekker x male! Reader - Infinite

A/n: I think I kinda trauma dumped onto this fic a little so whoops-

Request (by anon): Hii! I found your blog not long ago and I LOVE YOUR WRITING AHHHH 🫶🫶

I was wondering if you could write a gn or male shadow summoner!reader x Kaz Brekker where they're Darklings kid but ran away due to him being a bad father. The reader lived in Ketterdam for quite some time now and met Kaz in his early days there. They trust eachother and know alot about other but reader hides who his father is. then one day reader has a worse day remembering all the good – and bad – memories with The Darkling and in The Small Palace and is overwhelmed, so he helps reader and that's how he finds out about why they ran away and all, but Kaz understands and doesn't push the reader away and it just brings them closer??

Sort of a hurt/comfort. If you won't write it that's fine, I'd just really wanna see you do this! (￣ω￣)

Warnings: child abuse, trauma (10X but not in the way you think), the darkling, death, canon? we don't know her, there is a bit of inej slander but it's a trauma reponse and gets fixed later on in the fic, I think that's it? You have been warned!

The 3 P's:

[pov: 3rd person] [pronouns used: he/him] [pairings: (past! parental!) darkling x reader, (romantic!) kaz x reader, (platonic! mentioned!) kaz x inej]

Finite.

That's what would happen, if he did something wrong, or truly let him in. Kaz could only see so deep into him before he would stop him, send him away or make it seem like everything was okay.

His shaking hands gripped the sink as tears ran down his face.

How could he do that to him? How could Kaz chose Inej, over himself when he knew, he knew that he was a shadow summoner, that if he was found out he would be killed, or worse. Taken back to the little palace.

He couldn't, he can't, he-

He would never go back.

But Kaz had made him go back, on a job, to get that stupid sun summoner, then he chose Inej over him, by asking if she was okay. He never asked, he never looked, he just had to make sure that his little Wraith was alive. His greatest investment.

A scream tore through his throat and shadows were ripped from him as the cut went around the room.

How could he. He was a fool, he trusted him, why couldn't he-

Why couldn't he just care?

Though, he doesn't care for him, he tells himself over and over again, he doesn't care for Kaz Brekker, not when they were children and certainly not now. He can't care, because love can't be given that easily, he has to work for it and he has certainly not worked, or given Kaz enough.

His love would always be restricted.

The sound of a cane coming into contact with the broken in floor boards made him laugh, it was a mean sound, it was cruel and broken but so right.

He sounded like him.

That didn't matter, just like how Kaz was nothing.

A hand was placed beside his, and his breath caught in his throat, he couldn't do this, because as soon as this was over Kaz wouldn't even look his way. He wouldn't ask if he was okay, he wouldn't ask how he was holding up, he wouldn't be of value to him.

Abruptly he pulled away and crossed his arms over his chest, his shadows dancing in the distance, mocking him. Another reminder of what he cannot escape.

"I shouldn't have brought you on that job."

Something in him snaps at those words, no he never wanted to go, but he was enough- no he deserved to go and get that money. He didn't need Kaz to tell him things he couldn't change, he needed Kaz to tell him things he could. Like his love wasn't limited, please say it isn't.

It is though, isn't it? All things have limits.

Scoffing, he turns around to face him and he's not prepared for the emotion, the boy with the cane presents him with.

Sorrow, incredible sorrow.

Has he seen how he's been spiraling? Is all he truly feels is pity?

He doesn't want Kaz's pity, he didn't when he handpicked him off the streets only weeks after Jordie had died. He doesn't need any more pity, he got lots of it from certain members of the little palace, from Baghra.

"Leave me alone Kaz. I don't want to talk to you."

His words are a juxtaposition to what he's really feeling, it's the irony in it all. The greatest joke of all time, because he does want Kaz to talk to him, and he doesn't want Kaz to leave him alone. To leave him, to find someone better, someone more worth his time.

"No." Kaz speaks softly. "I saw how you reacted when you saw the darkling that day, I knew that you were a shadow summoner and I was a fool to think that man could be a good father."

He blinks at Brekker, once, twice, three times, before everything releases.

Oh.

The shadows in the distance stop dancing, as his shoulders fall down, so do his shadows. They stop dancing, then they fall, only to be left with the occasionally swirl now that his emotions aren't everywhere at once. Now that he understands Kaz's intentions, now that he's slowly realizing Kaz understands him.

"The darkling isn't my biological father." Is where he starts, and simultaneously's pauses to see if he would stop him. Walk out at the mere mention of his sob story. He doesn't.

"But my parents left me the moment they found out I was a shadow summoner, then he took me."

He squeezed his eyes shut, he didn't remember much about his biological parents, but he remembers his mother's smile, and his father's hands. Often he wonders what would have happened if they had stayed, if they would have loved a monster child enough so he could love them back. Enough so he wouldn't become one later, or that one would never find him. The world isn't fair though, and it is made up of monsters. He just so happened to be raised by one, and perhaps even became one.

It's feasibly disturbing that he doesn't back away and retch at the thought.

"I don't know if he wasn't ever not, bad, if he was I don't remember him as such. He only treated me cruelly, as a-"

Mirror to himself.

Was that all he was? A mirror to the terrible black heretic? A mirror to the monster who killed, to try and make things better? Was he destined to become him?

Then, a hand without the familiar leather clasps that enclosed them, brush against his face and his eyes shot open.

It's Kaz, it's always been Kaz.

"You are not their mistake, you are not him." He whispers in his ear. "You valued and safe."

He doesn't know if he'll ever be able to tell Kaz the true extent of everything the black heretic put him through, if he'll ever even tell him why he's like this. So dependent, but pushing away the moment they connect.

But he knows he can't be a reflection of the darkling, because he would still be at the little palace then. He would still be training with that man he used to call his father, he would have not run away to meet his faithful one in Ketterdam.

They were both broken, and bruised, and hurt beyond what anyone could ever comprehend. For now though, they have each other, and he has to remind himself that it makes it all worth it. That it's enough.

Kaz lets his hand slide but he understands, he always will.

Kaz may ask his Wraith if she's okay because she's a valuable investment, his friend. However Kaz will come back to him after, and they'll be the one brushing hands, skin to skin. Kaz will be the one to show him his inside, without his armor, and he'll desperately try to do the same.

Love can come easy, people can be redeemed if the person who's forgiving them so wishes it. He's done terrible things under the command of a man he called his father, things he can never take back. Lives he can never get back.

His father would get no redemption, but he would make sure that shadow summoners would, that he would not be just a reflection of his father.

He does that by staying in Ketterdam, staying with Kaz.

"Thank you." He murmurs back to the bastard.

Kaz just gives him the barest of smiles. "Always."

Love isn't finite, love is infinite.

Words 1236

-thedelusionreaderbitch

Grishaverse taglist: @kaqua @rika90 @thefandomplace @musical-theatre-obsessed-dumbass @gallysonegoodlung @navs-bhat @sumsebien @dontjudgeabookbythecover @brekker-zenik @alohastitch0626 @brekkers-desigirl @emmsamultifan06

[dreamtheatre]

What I Write

Doctor Who (9-15th Doctors and their companions, the Master) Star Wars (The Acolyte -> Prequels -> Clone Wars -> The Bad Batch) Harry Potter (The Marauders Era, Tom Riddle) The Hunger Games (Finnick Odair and Coriolanus Snow) Bridgerton (The Bridgerton Brothers - Anthony, Benedict and Colin) Shadow and Bone (The Darkling, Nikolai Lantsov, The Crows)

What I Write: Fluff, Angst, Drabbles, Headcannons, Fics, Oneshots, Series (Maybe?)... and more! Mostly x F!Reader, but can be GN or M! as well.

What I Don't Write: Smut (Sorry, I just don't feel comfortable writing this sort of text). Homophobia, Transphobia, or Racism Really Dark Stuff (non con, dub con, stalker, kidnapping... etc. unless i think that the level of the stuff is acceptable)

If you request, please accept my boundaries with respect. I appreciate every person that takes time to read things that I write, and I'll do my best to write good pieces! Thanks!!

dreamtheatre xx

[seishuswife]

🌸 Info! 🌸

Who I write for:

My Hero Academia

Dabi

Hawks

Tokyo Revengers

Sanzu Haruchiyo

Haitani Ran

Haitani Rindou

Chifuyu Matsuno

Inui (Inupi) Seishu

Kokonoi Hajime

Kazutora Hanemiya

Hanma Shuji

MCU

Loki

Doctor Strange

Doc Ock

Shadow & Bone

Kaz Brekker

Jesper

The Darkling

LOTR

Legolas

Frodo Baggins

Bilbo Baggins

Pippin Took

ACOTAR

Lucien Vanserra

Rhysand

Rules:

Fem!reader or GN!reader only with ONLY male characters

Only x readers here, no ships, no poly

Romantic only, no platonic

SFW only!

No to most triggering topics, but you may ask if I am comfortable with different ones on a case by case basis

Masterlists:

Anime:

My Hero Academia (BnHA)

Tokyo Revengers

Live action:

Marvel

Shadow and Bone

[inknopewetrust]

Scene of Love // The Darkling x Reader

Summary: The moment Aleksander realizes he’s in love.

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova (The Darkling) x GN!Reader (Shadow and Bone)

Word Count: 797

Warnings/AN: None. P.S. running out of Aleksander gifs that include just him so if you are a gif creator... hint hint.

Quick Links: Masterlist // Request Guidelines

Beyond the Little Palace laid a pond.

The pond was small, the color of sage, but reflected the sun as it shone above. Its alcove covered by heavy yields of trees; every one different. Their barks bending or white, leaves turning from green to an alluring array of autumn shades.

The cove was the color of the golden sun.

From the distance he kept, Aleksander reveled in the silhouette of you.

As the water nearly glowed, your face had been turned aside. A slight overturn on your right shoulder, Aleksander found himself incapable of looking away. His gaze set, drawn to the creature before him that illuminated with the light. Your distinctive features ornately carved by the beauty of the early afternoon, drawn to life by a slight movement of your lashes fluttering, the tilting of your head upwards toward the sun. A brilliant shining diamond amidst a sea of natural occurrence.

Your head jutted over your shoulder, etching him into your vision with a coy, demure smile before shifting forward once more.

It was so simple, so easy to imagine the joy you emitted.

Aleksander had forgotten what that was like. How it felt to be free of burden or task; his duty to his goal was too great of an accord to focus on something as benign as love. Aleksander had resigned himself to a life of distance, of apathy and sorrow. Needs met and fulfilled by passing faces to never be thought of again, reticent to the defining moments of life missed. Aleksander had never allowed himself to love—until you.

You were everything he was not. You were kind, good. A warm heart and hand to hold when days carried that burden too heavily; a forgiving smile for the mistakes he had made in the past. You learned from him, talked with him, understood him like no other. The blame of his choices were not scolded onto him. The one he loved did not act superior to him or ask to be treated as less. You were an opposite equal: someone who demanded the same respect and status but held hands instead of breaking them.

Your heart was amiable.

The way your eyes shone in the light of the golden forest, he wondered how they could gaze upon him with an affectionate lust. He was bad. A clichéd villain of type, while you provided his good. Yet you remained standing as he drank in the sight, relishing in your own mind how his eyes ranked over your form over and over in complete adoration—even if he hadn’t vocalized it just yet.

It was a rather simple concept, love. The action was difficult. A process of understanding another’s faults and convictions, truths and hardships. In the end, Aleksander would realize he needn’t know any of those things about you to love you. Love didn’t have to be complicated. It could be as simple as admiring another from a far and falling in love with their minute movements and playful gaze.

It was enough to make the heart pump faster. Enough for his words to cease and grow forgotten in his memory. His palms perspired further, his stomach feeling lighter and tougher at the same time. Hypothetical, banal butterflies filled its space with a realization that he had never felt such a way before.

Aleksander was in love. He was in love with you and while he may not admit it aloud in a few moments or months ahead, he would never forget the second he realized the feeling was real. It wasn’t a children’s story or fairytale to expand upon with lies, it was absolute. A near palpable emotion that invaded every sense and smell. Everywhere he turned, you were lingering in his vision or nose. The scent of your body, the trail of your fingers or eyes, the romance that flowed freely from them; easy to give, to maintain and protect, although he hadn't ever realized it.

How easy it had been to give his heart away when the right one stood lengths away, your own heart already given and captured by the shadowed man aside the trees.

As the emotions breached the stone-cold fortress around his heart, Aleksander forever engraved the sight before him as the sun encapsulated his reason for further existence. Purpose flowed with love, surged his desire to protect and ensure a prosperous future. For a man who had convinced himself he was not suitable for love, not worthy of feeling the very vulnerable emotions that accompany it, Aleksander had found it. Locked safely in the golden woods beyond Os Alta, a memory secured in his heart and mind eternally.

Aleksander may have lived many lives, had many names, but he would only ever have one love: you.

Darkling Master Tag (CLOSED):

@mrs-brekker15 @aleksanderblack @mizelophsun11 @aleksanderwh0r3 @alltheloztboys

[swanimagines]

Hey! Could you write headcanons for being enemies to lovers with General Kirigan/The Darkling from Shadow and Bone? Please and thank you!!

A/N: Didn’t really care about him tbh (as in I'm neutral towards him), I hope it doesn’t show in my writing XD But I hope you like it!

Warnings: SPOILERS, mentions of violence, hints of manipulation, reader switches sides and some angst.

ENEMIES TO LOVERS WITH THE DARKLING:

- You were enemies purely because you had been taught that The Darkling was evil.

- Not necessarily because you hated him for a reason.

- You just followed orders like soldiers do.

- But when you were taken captive, he takes interest in you.

- He finds you brave, with different circumstances stupidly brave, spitting at him when he tried to offer a deal.

- So he decided to charm you to win you by his side and had long chats with you every day.

- But you wouldn't budge, knowing what he was trying.

- At least you didn't show it that you had started growing feelings for him... but they were small enough to keep in their place, push back, remind yourself that The Darkling needed to be destroyed.

"Y/N, must we really be enemies?"

"It's Mx. L/N for you, heretic." you scoffed.

- He just nods.

"I know I've done questionable things, but I like you and I don't want you to get hurt."

"You? Like me?"

"Yes. And I would never hurt you, believe it or not. I know the Kingdom has made you believe that I'm a monster-"

"You created the Shadow Fold... killed hundreads, thousands of innocent people. What makes you think anyone has "made me believe" anything? I have eyes in my head."

"Yes, that's true. But I know now that it was a mistake. A mistake I wouldn't do again. But I need people to trust me - people like... you."

- He brushes his hand ever so slightly across your cheek.

- You scoff and sharply turn your head away to hide that you're taken a aback a bit by his act of tenderness.

- And you hated to admit it, but your cheeks glowed red when he exited the room after offering you a smirk.

- The seed had been planted.

- After that, you started falling for him in a rapid pace, no matter how you tried to hold it back.

- His laughs made you smile, even when you tried to force it away. And then laugh. And then you started craving for his touch.

- Everything went just as he planned.

- Except that... he was falling for you too.

- So he tried to distance himself from you a bit, closing himself to his bed chambers and telling his guards that anyone can't bother him.

- Especially not you.

- But the more he tries, the more difficult it becomes.

- And it leads to you two making out after you barge in to demand an explanation.

- He just can't help it.

- Because of you, his plan was ruined.

- He wanted to use you, toss you away once you had done your part without knowing, but he didn't plan on falling for you too.

- He wanted to be furious at you, at himself, almost believing you were a mind-manipulating Grisha who played with his thoughts.

- But having you there in his arms, your lips connected, his thoughts faded and he scolded himself for thinking like that.

- He had fallen for you too, as much as he tried to stop it.

[embrassemoi]

The Shadow Summoner and Star Summoner

Their love was brutal, devastating and unforgiving. And their kisses felt like a galaxy of exploding stars bursting over their lips — cascading down as Aleksander’s shadows extinguished all luminosity aside from a single sliver of starlight. They sighed, contently, as dark tendrils soothed over and marked each other as their own.

And though the Starless Saint’s soul had been seeped in darkness, it raised in perfect light — for he had loved the stars too much to be fearful of his own shadows now.

[stardustmorozov]

Winter Stitches

A/N: First of all, Huuuuuuuge shout-out to @ramadiiiisme for helping me out with the bones of this fic. You really have been my Lucky Charm this period and I can't thank you enough. Secondly: this is a gift fic for @mikeisthricedeceased for the Secret Santa Fic Exchange hosted by @the-purity-pen and @flightlessangelwings!

Pairing: Darkling x GN!Reader

Warnings: vague discriptions of gun violence, someone being stitched up, mentions of blood, needle and thread stitches, there was only one bed, huddling for warmth, ambigious ending

Word Count: 1574

When exactly it had all gone wrong you didn't know. One moment the white powdered world around you had been magically quiet, the next you and the General were running for your lives, dodging bullets left and right. Normally you would have no problem with taking the offenders out, but they were with too many for the two of you to handle alone.

Whether it was luck or a trap, you didn't know as you spotted a cabin hidden between the trees and foilage, the sounds of gunfire and the whispers of bullets zipping past, fading the closer you got.

Neither of you seemed to overthink the sudden blessing as you ducked into the empty cabin, the door slamming shut as your heart beat frantically in your ribcage. The realisation that you were either trapped or saved slowly settling in your mind now that you weren't focussed on dodging bullets anymore.

It was nearly impossible to hear if your persuers were closing in on you over the heavy rushing of blood in your ears, but eventually, the last of shouts seemed to die down as you heard orders being given about returning to camp.

It was only then that you turned back to your general, who had shed his Kefta and was quietly cursing as he inspected, what seemed to be a bullet wound. Picking at the pieces of fabric that had gotten into the wound. And on a second look you notice the place where he has gotten shot.

His guts.

You feel the blood drain from your face as the realisation hits you and as by instinct, you moved from your place at the door to look for a first aid kit. Surprisingly, the kit you manage to find is mostly complete, the only things missing being a set of small plaster bandages and a pair of scissors, but you know you don't need them as you put the kit on the single table the cabin possessed.

Putting the necessary equipment on the table, you feel the general's gaze on you and you momentarily stop what you're doing to look at him.

"What?"

"You know your way around a first aid kit?"

"Kind of a requirement where I come from. Basically grew up with it, so..." You gesture at him in the hoping he understands what you're planning as you put the final items on the table whilst kicking one of the chairs out in a fluid motion.

"If you wanted me to get naked all you had to do was ask," he chuckles and you can feel your face heat up as butterflies erupt in your stomach and you wathc the chair as it dances for a few moments, almost afraid it was going to tople over until it finally settles with a few decisive bangs on the wooden floor.

"And here I thought our general was above such things," you said as you poured some rubbing alcohol onto a cotton swab.

There came a chuckle from him, but you barely paid attention to it as you focussed on the wound, trying your hardest not to be distracted by the fact that he was closer to you than he had ever been as you picked up the set of long tweezers to remove the bullet.

Much to your relief, the projectile never went far enough to create any life threatening injuries and was removed fairly easily as you quickly pressed the alcohol soaked swab on it to both stop the bleeding and disinfect the wound, making him hiss in pain above you.

You muttered a quiet apology, removing the excess blood around the wound and pressing a clean bit of cotton against the wound until it stopped bleeding enough that you could stitch it.

Once you were finished patching him up, you packed the unused parts of the kit into their designated pockets and put it back where you found it, somewhere expecting the general to put his clothes back on. So when you turned back up to see what else the cabin had to offer, your eyes were drawn to his still naked chest and with no task to distract you, you found it much more difficult to keep your eyes off him.

His chest was littered with faded scars of battles long past and you found yourself wondering what it would be like to feel them under your fingertips. It also didn't help that his chest was far more toned than you first noticed when you were stitching him up, as you quickly made your way to the fireplace, hoping to find enough wood to keep you both warm through the night.

A silent slew of curses left you as you went looking for anything else that you could afford to burn, but to no avail. What there was however, and you didn't want to admit was appealing to you, was a bed a and a pile of thick hides. It almost seemed surreal. This was a scenario straight out of the little romance novels you always secretly read in the library when you were little, not something that was actually happening to you. Right?

And yet there it was. The opportunity to be even closer with him than a few minutes ago presenting itself like low hanging fruit.

"What is going on in that pretty head of yours?"

"Nothing I want to be a part of currently."

"Care to share then?"

You raised your eyebrows at that. “...No..."

The absurdity of the situation still didn't seem to settle in your mind. That it couldn't be real, you were dreaming and any moment you could wake up alone, in your own bed. Safe at the Little Palace.

It had barely been an hour after the sun had fully disappeared behind the horizon and the first stars had started to show in the sky that you felt like you were freezing, despite your best efforts to keep yourself warm whilst also pointedly ignoring the gaze of the man you'd stitched up a some hours ago.

It had started not long after he'd gotten under the hides but you couldn't figure out why he kept staring at you, and if you were honest with yourself, you didn't know if you wanted him to stop or not.

"You really are more stubborn than you look huh?"

Your head snapped over to where the general had sat up, still only occupying part of the hides.

"I'll survive."

"You're freezing."

There was an authorative tone to his voice, as if he just gave you an order rather than assessing your state of being. Your muscles moved to get you up, but you stopped yourself. There was no way you'd get that chance, you refused to believe it.

"Do you find pleasure in pointing out the obvious?"

You blew the somewhat warm breath you could get out of your lungs into your freezing hands as you frantically rubbed them together in the hope that you wouldn't lose your fingers, before sticking them back under your armpits. But it was of precious little help.

There was a sigh from him as you stubbornly remained in your place, curling impossibly further up into yourself as you tried you best to preserve what little body heat you still had.

"Take of your clothes."

The absurdity of the order was barely registered by your conciousness as your eyes might as well have fallen out of their sockets because of how much his words shocked you.

"Have you gone mad? If I do that I will absolutely die."

"Do I really have to spell it out for you? Or are you just to stubborn for your own good?"

His voice sounded more annoyed than you had expected and you instantly felt guilty for not getting the hint. Or rather, a hint that you had thought was not meant for you. As if there had been someone else in the room with you and you began pulling cords and buttons to release the the fabric confines from your body until you were left in your under clothes, which were a near sheer shirt and a pair of knickers and you could feel the little warmth you still had leave your body as you finally got under the hides.

In contrast, you could feel the heat radiating off of the man next to you, who draped, with some difficulty, the biggest hide over the both of you, the heat coming off from him now trapped between the two of you.

Once you were no longer shivering because of how cold you were, you dared yourself to start to doze off, the risk of not being able to wake up now far away enough in your mind and instinctively, you moved closer to the man next to you, your mind too hazy to think of anything but the warmth he was providing and the sleep that was waiting for you, just around the corner of your mind but the general had other plans.

"Not yet, malen'kiy. You're still too cold,” he said, rocking you gently, trying to keep you awake, but your mind had already started to doze off with no intentions of coming back to the surface anytime soon.

The only thing you registered before you fell into a deep sleep, was the presence of a warm body pressing itself against yours and a voice silently begging for you to survive...

[yesimwriting]

Solace.

SUMMARY: you find yourself going to visit General Kirigan in the night. 

PAIRING: The Darkling/General Kirigan x heart render! reader

Warnings: the beginning of a toxic relationship 

--

The urge to flinch away from and melt into the feeling of his fingertips, too temptingly warm, as he grazes them across my knuckles and up to my wrist is almost overwhelming. When the unexpected contact is something I manage not to shy away from, Kirigan’s touch becomes more confident, turning my wrist in order to expose my palm. He lets out a low breath, if he was anyone else I’d think that a sound of tiredness. He drags his index finger down the back of my wrist and over the lines etched into my palm. There’s a new tension to his touch as if he’s searching for invisible answers in the natural creases of my skin. 

“You could stay,” Kirigan’s voice is as supple and alluring as sin, “Just for tonight.” 

Waiting him in any capacity twists at my heart in a way I can’t comprehend or justify. There is so much of him I do not know, so much of him that’s darker than the inky shadows he bends to his will. “People will speak.” 

It’s the kind of shy cop-out he doesn’t like. The kind of shyness that leaves everyone losing. I can make out the way he pulls his eyebrows together despite the only light in the room coming from a small lantern on his bedside table. I’m not sure if I’ve displeased him. Perhaps I’ve reminded him of why he felt the need to take me from everything I’ve known. Maybe he’s seeing how far I am from what he wants me to be, or maybe he’s seeing the opposite. I’m not sure which possibility scares me more. I’m not sure if I want him to turn me away or persist that I stay. 

“If you’re defined by what people say,” he taps the back of my hand as if to mark his point, straightening and letting the contact between us disappear, “You’ll never be what you want to be.” The tone he uses is one you’d use to scold a child, “Did anyone see you?” 

I don’t think he’s trying to fluster me with potential scandal, but the lack of warmth from the returned absence of his proximity is making this situation a lot less appealing. And without his easing touch, I’m too clear headed to ignore the dangers of this. 

“No,” I try to sound factual, nonchalant and at peace with this entire situation. 

The tilt of his head tells me that none of the casualness I’m desperately trying to manufacture on a surface level at least came off as believable. He takes a partial step forward, extending his hand and casually squeezing my hand, pressing my fingers into my palm. 

“You came to me, little wolf.” I swallow back my embarrassment. It had been a lapse in judgement driven by what...a deep loneliness that comes with being taken away from everyone you’ve ever known? “Why?” 

I wish I had an answer to that for myself. Because he’s the only one that speaks to me as if I am not less than? Because each short brush of our hands has made me yearn to know what purposeful touches from him would feel like? Because it’s dark and I hate being alone in the dark? Because I can’t sleep without seeing every mistake I’ve made? 

Yes. I could attribute my lapse in judgement to all of this. I could attribute my mistake to some other factor that my mind cannot process. Exhaling slowly, I reach for his pulse with my mind, hoping to see if he truly is as calm and steady as he seems. 

“You’re not as subtle as you think you are.” The words are enough to stall me before I can feel more than two heartbeats. They seemed even, but I didn’t hear enough off of them to be sure. 

I swallow back the embarrassment of being caught. “How?” 

If I didn’t know any better I’d consider the easy quirk of his mouth as an almost smile. “An answer for an answer?”

More generous than he usually is. I keep my jaw as set as I can manage. “I don’t--I’m not sure why.” 

He keeps his face unreadable. “You swore you’d never look for anything from me, that you would never…” Kirigan shifts closer. “That I’d always be a villain to you.” 

There’s a surprising amount of restraint in his words. Had I hurt him? The ridiculousness of my thoughts causes me to wrinkle my. He is a villain, he has to be, and yet here I am. “My insults do get particularly creative when I’m upset.” My attempt at humor falls oddly flat. Kirigan’s clearly not in the mood for a lighter atmosphere. “I wish I knew why I came here.” 

Shifting even closer, he raises a hand. I don’t understand what his intentions are until I feel a brush of knuckles against my cheek. The touch is too soft, too much of a reminder of all the absence...all the places where we’re not touching and the fact that I resent that. 

“When you tap into your abilities your brow furrows,” he pulls his hand away from my cheek and gently taps the space above my left eyebrow, “Right there.” Oh. Such a small thing to pick up on. “Even when you’re not doing anything particularly strenuous--it’s more an act of habit.” I don’t know if there’s a way to respond to that. “And when something upsets you that you want to play off, your eyebrows furrow here,” he touches the space between my two eyebrows. “As opposed to when you’re particularly focused on something and your,” he pauses, thumb brushing my bottom lip, “Lips press together.” 

My stomach flutters and knots all at once. His thumb stays on my bottom lip for longer than it needs to, neither  of us in a hurry to leave this moment. I wonder if he’s as afraid of what comes after this moment as I am-- thoughts of both the potential more and the potential nothing make my heart ache. His thumb brushes down the corner of my mouth and chin. 

“There’s a danger in desire,” his voice is so low I almost miss it, “But I think you know that by now, little wolf.” 

Feeling like a chided child, I dare to raise my chin a fraction of an inch but all that does is press my face into his touch more. “I’m not a victim of desire.” 

“I’m glad you feel that way.” 

So now he finds humor in the situation. Fantastic. “People should know you more for your wit.” 

I don’t hide my sarcasm, but his expression retains all of its easiness. “I guess the ones that matter already do.” The touch of lightheartedness evaporates as quickly as it appeared. “Will you stay?” 

This is different from the first time he mentioned me staying. The first time it was an option he presented, but this time, with his voice the closest to vulnerable I’ve ever seen it, he’s requesting my presence. For the first time I let myself picture it. Staying here. Falling asleep here. With him.

Cautiously, I meet his gaze. “Just for tonight, right?” 

“Stay with me.” He repeats, a bit more certain, a bit more...needing. “For tonight.” 

My body nods once without my permission. I wonder if this is how people feel after I use my abilities on them. That one tiny, unrestrained signal is all he needs. Kirigan angles my head slightly before brushing his lips against my cheek, the warmth of his breath against my skin is enough to leave me melting. 

“I--I wish I knew why I came here.” The words are more honest than I intended them to be. 

Kirigan pauses, warm breath still fanning across the side of my face. “Maybe it will become clearer when I turn you into my solace and my solace alone so that I may be the only thing you can find comfort in.” 

His words are gilded tar, dark and suffocating blackness disguised beneath a thin sheath of gold. “I don’t understa--” 

“You will.” The urgency of his tone strips him of all lazy softness. Something in me tenses, the shift too sudden and cold and similar to the way he was in the beginning. The tension does not go unnoticed, Kirigan fights against it easily, brushing his lips against my skin again. “Lets get some rest my little wolf.” He squeezes my arm easily, the touch leaves my skin tingling in warmth. “Tomorrow things will be different for you.” 

“Different?” 

“Training,” he replies easily, “Together we’ll see what you can do.” His fingers brush up my arm and across my shoulder easily, my breath stalls. “We’ll bring out that facet of your abilities that came out the day we met, and with that we’ll change the world.” I do not think myself a world changer, but the softness of his touch and the praising quality of his tone leave me with no protest. “And we’ll find solace in only each other.”

[usmsgutterson]

Hello Can you do a Poly one with Nikolai & Zoya fic it can be fluff with prompt 6 ? Where the reader has a crush on them

Recipe Box- poly! zoyalai x gn! reader

okay, hi! First ever poly fic of any kind. I've debated writing poly fics before but I've never actually done it so this was next level nervewracking for me and I hope it's decent.

I'm sorry it took me so long to see the requests you've sent in, things get buried in my inbox really quick and this request was no exception for a bit, but dear nonnie, I hope you like this in spite of how long it took me to get this out!

The prompt you requested was fluff prompt six: “Character A wanted me to give this to you,” Character B said.

Fic type- fluff with so much yearning

Warnings- none

You found yourself laughing at Tamar and Tolyas bickering as the three of you moved through the hallways of the Grand Palace, a discussion picking up and dropping in brief moments as the end of the day drew nearer. 

The time after the war was tough, the adjustments necessary difficult ones to make and the grief for those you’d lost immense and painful. Nikolai plunged into his kingly duties after he was crowned, Zoya took up the creation and the maintenance of her garden, you took to baking and the twins to sparing to sharpen their already sharp skills. 

Tolya and Tamar became members of Nikolais guard, working for him as they’d once worked for Alina and her sun cult. You almost took up a position alongside them, one offered to you by Nikolai after the war, but you refused. Despite it, finding the twins was always easy, striking a conversation with them easier even still.

You’d taken up working in the kitchens, making the menus for the week and putting effort into baking during your off time so that Genya and Zoya could always have the sweet pastries they liked at the drop of a hat and, selfishly, because baking had always been therapeutic for you.

Baking brought you plenty more joy than being on the sea did, but in the days of the war, being on a ship crew meant easy money, and easy money was good enough for you back then, while you worked on the Volkvolny with Nikolai as the captain.

You met Zoya in those times, too, so you wouldn’t’ve counted the war as an entirely dreadful time. You’d fallen for Nikolai when you worked on the ship alongside him, fallen for Zoya as you fought at her side against the Darkling. You had crushes on them for two years, and at that rate, it never seemed like the feelings you held would quite escape you. 

So, as you approached the war room with Tamar and Tolya, you were relaxed. It'd been your day off but you'd baked throughout it even still, and you'd dropped a basket of sweet pastries at Genya and Davids door in the hour before you found yourself where you were, with Tamar and Tolya at your sides as you walked them to the war room before you would either head to your room or to the palace library, where you grab a book and spend the next few nights reading.

Nikolai caught sight of you and grinned as you entered the room.

Tamar elbowed you lightly, shooting you a grin as your gaze met one of the people you’d been in love with for what sometimes felt like a thousand days. 

“Every time,” she whispered. “Him and Zoya. Every bloody time, and still—fools. The lot of you.” 

“Hey,” Nikolai greeted Tolya as you made a point of ignoring Tamars words simply for the fact that you didn’t believe them. “Alls well on the grounds?” 

“No threats waiting to jump out and kill you,” Tamar said pointedly. “Grounds sweep was successful.” 

Nikolai looked at you again, and seemed to remember something. You watched him pause for a moment before turning, picking up a small box and walking it over to you.

“Zoya wanted me to give this to you,” Nikolai said. “You bake in the kitchens a lot. Said it was recipe boxes with stuff you’d talked about.” 

You grinned as you took the box, grin widening as you met his gaze. “Thank you,” you said, turning on your heel. “For delivering it, I suppose. I need to find her, give her my thanks.” 

Nikolai nodded. “Yeah,” he said. “Tamar, Tolya and I have much to discuss. I don’t know if I’ll see you again tonight, so goodnight, Y/N.” 

You grinned. “Goodnight, Nikolai,” 

And with that, you left, heart thrumming as you walked down the halls of the Grand Palace, a huge part of you hoping to see Zoya before you retired to your room for the night. 

You ended up not seeing her, but you made a mental note to thank her for the very sweet gift when you would see her the following day, at the end of your shift in the kitchens and likely as she sat by a samovar of tea, either chatting with Genya and David or finding something to bicker about with Tolya or Nikolai. 

It was something to which you looked forward immensely. 

[thedelusionreaderbitch]

Hii! I found your blog not long ago and I LOVE YOUR WRITING AHHHH 🫶🫶

I was wondering if you could write a gn or male shadow summoner!reader x Kaz Brekker where they're Darklings kid but ran away due to him being a bad father. The reader lived in Ketterdam for quite some time now and met Kaz in his early days there. They trust eachother and know alot about other but reader hides who his father is. then one day reader has a worse day remembering all the good – and bad – memories with The Darkling and in The Small Palace and is overwhelmed, so he helps reader and that's how he finds out about why they ran away and all, but Kaz understands and doesn't push the reader away and it just brings them closer??

Sort of a hurt/comfort. If you won't write it that's fine, I'd just really wanna see you do this! (￣ω￣)

Hey anon! Here it is, I hope you enjoy it! I did shift the fic around a bit, so if you would like another version I will gladly write it for you!

Thank you for requesting!

[dumb-fawkin-bitch]

Oh my god the suspense!!!

Literally just binged this whole series so far and I’m obsessed with it ! It’s intriguing, entertaining, suspenseful, and just overall amazing. I can’t wait to read more parts!!

Also the way the amplifiers know and have an understanding with the reader is very intriguing to me.

I love how Ivan, Fedyor, and Zoya are written and the ‘relationship’ they have with the reader!!

- could I be added to your marvelmusing Tag List? If it’s not problem ;)

In Another Life

Part Ten

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova x Alternate Universe!Reader

Summary: The hunt for the sea whip has begun, but a number of obstacles stand in your way, demanding more from you than you ever thought possible.

Warnings: canon level violence, heartrender attacks the reader, near death experiences, mentions of blood and death, fainting.

My Masterlist • Series Masterlist

“General Kirigan.”

Sturmhond greets Aleksander with a nod, as he moves away from the railing that overlooks the docks, before he smiles brightly at you. Aleksander glances between the two of you for a brief moment before he responds.

“Sturmhond, I presume.”

The privateer’s smile twists into his usual confident smirk.

“I see my reputation precedes me.”

Aleksander doesn’t seem impressed.

“My assistant tells me you have a ship and crew ready for us.”

Sturmhond gestures out to the docks, where you see a large whaling ship being prepared to sail.

“I’m not even going to ask where you got that from.” You remark, looking over at the large ship in front of you.

“Now you’re getting the hang of things.” He teases with a smirk, nudging your shoulder and you roll your eyes despite your smile.

“The previous owner won’t be giving us any trouble, will they?” You ask with a raised brow.

He shakes his head, confident smile unfazed by your questioning.

“They shouldn’t do.”

“If you want our money, you will need to do better than shouldn’t do.” Aleksander states clearly.

Confusion in your eyes, you glance over at him but struggle to read his expression. Whatever is on his mind is something that you haven’t seen from him before.

Sturmhond eyes you for a moment, and you shrug in response.

“I won that vessel, fair and square, last night.” He states smoothly, looking straight at Aleksander.

Sturmhond’s face softens into something teasing as he looks over at you.

“Your assistant here clearly just believes the worst of me.” With that he winks at you, and rocks back on his heels before he turns and strolls away.

Blinking a few times, you adjust the collar of your coat as you frown.

“What was that?”

“I think he likes you.”

That only confuses you even more.

“Oh.”

“Perhaps I should inform him of your engagement. Though I’m sure a pirate won’t see the Crown Prince as much competition.”

Part of you believes Aleksander is only joking, but his words have you reaching out to stop him.

“No. Don’t.”

He tilts his head aside in confusion, eyes scouring your face as he observes your concern. Glancing around, you ensure that no one is close enough to overhear you as you step closer to Aleksander and murmur,

“Sturmhond is Prince Nikolai.”

Aleksander’s frown deepens, and you step away from him.

“Is there anything else I should know?” He asks.

“A lot of his crew are Grisha.”

“Ravkan?”

“A mixture I think. But some of them might be.” At that, Aleksander seems to be pulled deep into his thoughts. “You can’t blame them for not wanting to serve the Crown.” You add softly.

“And yet, ironically they are still serving the Crown.”

“Illegitimate crown.” You add, turning around.

You have barely taken a step away from him, before Aleksander takes a hold of the back of your coat, bunching the fabric near your waist to pull you back against him. Dropping his head down he speaks lowly,

“You know who his father is. Don’t you?”

“I can’t remember his name. But if you gave me a list of the last few Fjerdan ambassadors then I think I’d be able to pick him out.”

“Well that could certainly come in handy.” He muses quietly. Turning around, you give him a small smile.

“You know me, full of handy little facts.”

Aleksander regards you for a moment, and you notice how close you are to him. His lips part, and your gaze falls down to watch his next words leave them.

“Do you like him?” He asks.

“Who?”

“Sturmhond.”

“I met him yesterday.” You remark. At the look on Aleksander’s face, you decide to give your answer more thought. “I don’t dislike him. I know we can trust him. That’s all I can say.”

»»---------------------►

There’s a creak of floorboards shifting, and the wind howls outside the small window in front of the makeshift desk that you and Aleksander share now that you’re at sea. It’s been nearly two weeks into your journey, and you’re approaching the Bone Road.

Aleksander shifts under the covers, and you glance over at him once again. Ever since the storm began, a tension had set into Aleksander’s shoulders, and tonight his sleep has been particularly restless.

You leave the candles burning on the desk, knowing that he doesn’t enjoy sleeping in total darkness, as you walk slowly over to the bed. There’s a small sound in the back of his throat, and he wakes with a start.

“Aleksander.” You whisper softly. He looks over at you with wide eyes as you settle down on top of the covers beside him. “Are you alright?”

He nods, but in that moment there’s a flash of lightning, and you see him grip the bedsheets tightly between his fingers.

“Is it the storm?” He nods again. “Can I join you?”

It seems strange, asking Aleksander if you can share the bed when the two of you have slept beside one another so many times before. But this is different.

Instead of answering, he shifts over in the bed, allowing room for you to slip under the covers beside him. A boom of thunder echoes overhead, and you can feel the reverberation of it in your chest.

Aleksander’s jaw is tense, and you can hear the strict control he has on his breathing. Your heart aches for him.

The room Sturmhond had offered Aleksander was well insulated, meaning that you were only wearing your underwear as well as one of Aleksander’s shirts. When you reach out towards him, your fingers smooth over his bare chest.

He relaxes a little underneath your touch, as you slide your palm up towards the nape of his neck. For a moment, you play with the short locks of hair that sit there, and Aleksander’s eyes flutter closed.

Once he seems calmer, you cup the back of his neck and provide a reassuring squeeze to the tense muscles there. In response, a little more of the tension leaves his spine. When another flash of lightning illuminates the room, Aleksander grasps onto your waist.

Tugging gently on his body, you encourage him to lie over you, and his arms instantly wrap around your waist. Thunder crackles and he tightens his hold on you. He buries his face into your chest, and you stroke through his hair as you whisper assurances to him.

“It’s alright Sasha.”

Once you realise what you’ve said, you go still, waiting for his response. He tilts his head up to look at you with a raised brow.

“Sasha?”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have- I should have asked you first.” He breathes out a soft laugh, shaking his head.

“I don’t mind.”

“You don’t?” He shakes his head again, before he settles back down onto your chest.

“Baghra was the last person to call me Sasha.” He murmurs quietly. “She hasn’t done so in a very long time.”

“And you want me to?” You ask softly.

“I do.”

“Okay… Sasha.”

Fingers tangled in his hair, you can feel his smile against your skin and a warmth spreads through your chest.

»»---------------------►

Ivan comes to wake you and Aleksander early one morning. Heavy mist clings to the surface of the water, even trailing over the other end of the deck.

It’s cold, which you should be used to by now. You can’t remember the last time you stepped outside and felt warm. Rubbing your hands together, you try and encourage some warmth to remain in your body.

As another shudder runs through your body, you turn to Aleksander and grumble in a low voice.

“What was it with your grandfather and creating creatures that like the cold?”

The corner of his mouth quirks in amusement, and he steps closer, shielding you from the breeze as he remarks,

“Baghra must have been the exception to that rule.”

A small laugh falls from your lips, and some warmth returns to you at the sight of his smile.

Aside from a few murmurs of conversation, the crew are quiet. There’s an intangible spark of tension in the air. As if everyone, not just Mal, can sense that you’re close.

All of you stand still, waiting, as Mal gives a few final directions, which Sturmhond follows at his place in front of you and Aleksander on the upper deck.

Then someone cries out from up in the rigging.

“Two points of the starboard bow!”

A bright white, shimmering shape unfurls itself from within the mist. The early morning light casts a golden shine over pearlescent scales. Dark eyes stare resolutely at your ship, and a rush of fear floods through you.

You had warned Aleksander that the sea whip wouldn’t go down without a fight. The two of you had run over several ideas to capture the creature. Aleksander had decided to forgo longboats, instead you would use the size of your ship to your advantage.

Sturmhond’s crew seize their weapons. Guns and grappling hooks sparkle in the morning sunlight.

The first hook misses, splashing harmlessly into the water. The sea whip bucks it’s tail, rocking the waves. You stumble into Aleksander, and he grasps onto your arms as the deck tilts. Another hook flies over the edge of the ship, piercing into the sea whip’s hide.

It thrashes, trying to free itself, when another hook meets its mark. The deck tilts even further, and you cling tightly onto Aleksander.

“Alina.” You call out. She looks over at you, stumbling into Mal as she does. “Would your Cut be able to reach the sea whip?”

Her eyes widen and she shakes her head.

“I can’t use the Cut.”

It startles you, for a moment, when you realise that she hasn’t used the Cut yet. But she will.

“Yes, you can. Trust me, Alina.”

She backs away from you.

“No, I can’t.”

If Aleksander hadn’t been gripping on to you so tightly, you’re certain you would have fallen and cracked your head against the deck with the force of the next wave.

“It’s really not that hard.” You insist, remembering how she had summoned the Cut without even thinking, at the end of the first book.

“And you’d know all about that wouldn’t you?” She snaps.

You know what she sees of you. Arrogant otkazat’sya who thinks they understand how being a Grisha works. When in reality, it’s almost the opposite. You know, better than she does, what she’s capable of. Gritting your teeth, you remark in a low voice.

“Yes I would.”

Looking around frantically, you see the crew attempting to wrestle the sea whip into submission. It won’t go down quietly. After a violent jerk, one of the crewmen loses his footing and falls over the side.

“Man overboard!” Someone calls out.

Your mind is filled with memories of this chapter. Bloodstained water, screams and cries, the snap of bones breaking between the sea whips teeth.

“Our people are risking their lives. The least you could do is try.” You snap at Alina.

Turning away from her, you stagger towards Sturmhond who’s at the helm, gripping onto the wheel.

“Isn’t this fun?” He remarks, breathing out a laugh despite the shaking strain of his arms as he holds the ship level with the sea whip, fighting against the waves.

“I have a suggestion.” His sweat covered brow lifts in response, and you continue. “Tie the ropes to the mast, then turn hard to port. It’ll give us one more clean shot for a hook to bring it down.”

“And if it tears off our mast?”

“Then we’re screwed.”

His grin widens and he shakes his head. Then he calls out the orders to his crew, following your directions. You grip tightly onto the railing, as Sturmhond steers the ship away from the sea whip.

The creature cries out, a haunting melody that rings in your ears. You’re reminded of the stag. Of that chime that had called you to it, only this is amplified by a thousand. You see the last grappling hook fly out, burying itself into the sea whip’s side.

With a mournful cry, the sea whip slumps weakly.

“Nets!” Sturmhond cries out. “Ready the platform.”

A large board of wood is lowered down to the surface of the sea, and the crew use the hooks to steer the weakened sea whip onto the platform. A net is tossed down over the sea whip’s head, preventing it from thrashing any further.

The relief among you all is sudden, as people turn to one another in a mixture of disbelief, shock, and delight. There’s laughter, and people cling to one another. The man who had fallen overboard has a towel thrown around his shoulders as his crew mates laugh affectionately at him.

A smile blooms over your face, as you look at Aleksander.

You did it.

Your celebration is rather short lived.

“A ship, moi soverenyi.” Ivan says, gesturing to a distant shape on the horizon.

“Are they flying colours?” Aleksander asks, looking over at Sturmhond. The privateer peers through his telescope, searching over the smooth sea.

For a brief moment, you believe that it’s no one. Some passing fishermen.

“That’s Sokolov’s flag.” Sturmhond remarks, closing his telescope with a grin expression.

“Who?” You ask with a frown.

“Viktor Sokolov. He’s a Grisha pirate, claims loyalty to no country. That’s where his soldiers get their name from - nichevo’ya.”

At the sound of their name, a shiver runs through you. Nichevo’ya. That’s what the Darkling had called his shadow monsters.

“The nothings?” You translate, and Sturmhond nods.

Aleksander searches your expression intently. He knows you don’t know much Old Ravkan.

“You’ve heard of them?” He prompts.

“No.” You admit, swallowing hard as panic settles in. Of course there would be a group of vicious Grisha pirates that want to steal the sea whip from you. “We can’t outrun them in this ship.”

Aleksander nods, immediately joining in on your thinking. If you haven’t heard of these pirates, then you and Aleksander are on even ground when it comes to planning your next move.

“Even if we tried to flee, we would need to abandon the sea whip.” He reasons.

“We can’t let him take its power.”

“We can’t risk sending Alina down there. If they are Grisha, their ship will be on us in a matter of minutes.”

“What if we send David with her?” You suggest, and Aleksander nods slowly, understanding your plan.

“She can claim its power instantly. We will have to buy them quite some time though.”

Everyone around you seems a little stunned, either by your quick thinking or the way Aleksander’s thoughts flow with yours, you’re not sure. You look over at Sturmhond who nods.

“It’s daring.” He admits. “I like it.”

Then he turns to issue orders to his crew. They rush to their positions, and Aleksander begins to command your Grisha, readying them for a fight. Alina looks wary at the thought of being anywhere near the sea whip, and she doesn’t speak to you.

Just as you’re preparing for her and David to be lowered down to where the sea whip is bound, the deck tilts and you nearly fall into Aleksander.

“What’s happening?” You ask. His brows furrow darkly.

“Sokolov is a tidemaker. A powerful one.” Aleksander looks down at the water between your ship and the captured sea whip. “He’s using an undercurrent to keep us from reaching the sea whip.”

You swear in a low voice, running a hand over your hair with frustration. Smoke creeps across the water towards your ship, likely brought on by Sokolov’s squallers to impair your vision.

“Would your Cut be able to reach their ship from here?” You suggest. Aleksander shakes his head.

“A Cut that large is too dangerous to summon at this proximity, even for me.”

You’re running out of ideas at an alarming rate.

Then the soldiers climb up onto your deck.

Sturmhond’s crew respond instantly, fighting to keep control of their ship. Your own Grisha jump into the fray, and soon there’s only a small group of you on the upper deck.

“Zoya.” You call out to the nearby squaller. “If I jump, will you be able to carry me over to the other side of Sokolov’s current?”

Keeping her head low, she peers over the edge of the ship, eyeing the current swirling possessively around the sea whip. She nods.

“I think so.”

“Absolutely not.” Aleksander states firmly.

“We can’t let him get the sea whip.” You cry out in protest as the deck sways, and he shakes his head.

“Someone else.” He insists.

“Even through the smoke, they’ll see your keftas. I’m otkazat’sya, they won’t look twice at me.”

Aleksander holds your gaze for a long moment, and you know he’s running through every possible option in his mind. But it’s no use. This is your only option. You’re out of time.

“If you’re doing something, I suggest you decide now.” Zoya warns you. The current is pulling the sea whip further away from your ship, but your eyes stay on Aleksander. After another second of hesitation, he nods.

Shrugging off your jacket, you hold your knife ready in one hand and step back in order to gain a run up. Zoya holds her hands ready to summon enough wind to carry you.

You’re suddenly reminded of one of your nightmares, drowning in ice cold water before being eaten alive by the sea whip. Inhaling an unsteady breath, you give Zoya a nod.

Saints above, do not let me die today.

With that single prayer, you run towards the side of the ship, feet pushing up onto the railing as you leap out towards the open sea. Zoya’s breeze pushes your body through the air, and you land in still icy water.

The chill of the sea is freezing, and your very bones ache with the cold as you kick your feet and rise to the surface. Gasping for breath, you look around wildly, searching for the sea whip. Swimming in its direction, you realise how large it is as you get closer.

There isn’t time for you to climb onto the small platform, so you remain half submerged in the water as you reach out to the mythical sea whip.

“I’m so sorry about this.” You say, smoothing a hand over the slippery scales by the creature’s eye. It’s deep dark eyes stare intently at you, and a pang of guilt hits you.

Either you kill the sea whip yourself, ensuring that no one gets his power. Or you free him, and pray that you all survive unscathed.

Gritting your teeth, you make a decision.

As quickly as you can, you begin to saw at the ropes binding the sea whip down to the platform. The net comes away easily but the ropes require a little more work. They had been reinforced by fabrikators, but luckily the fibres wear away when you angle your steel in the right direction.

Then you choke on a gasp, and almost drop your knife as your vision swims. Warm blood drips from your nose, and you cough weakly as you try to stay conscious.

One of Sokolov’s heartrenders must be constricting your heart. Terror fills you. Then the pain eases slightly, and you can feel your pulse thrumming a little stronger than before. A glance back at your ship confirms your suspicions, Ivan is keeping your heart going.

He’s one of the strongest corporalki that you know, but the distance will soon be too much for him to reach you. Fighting down the panic, and the pain, you reach for the final rope.

Tears fill your vision, and you cry out as you give one resolute swipe at the weakened rope. It snaps. The sea whip bursts free, and you go under the waves.

The motion of the sea whip’s tail shifts the water around you, pushing you into Sokolov’s undercurrent. Thrashing violently, you struggle against the water, and your own tiring body.

Then you’re hauled up to the surface, your lungs burning as you draw in shuddering breaths, gathering your strength to fight off whoever had grabbed you.

“You’re alright.” A familiar voice assures you, holding you tight. “It’s me.”

“Aleksander!” You gasp, gripping firmly onto his soaked shirt. He must have abandoned his kefta before he had jump in.

“I have you.” He says, his voice rough with exertion as he keeps you both above water.

With Aleksander doing the majority of the work, you swim back over to your ship, and the crew help to lift the two of you back onto the deck.

Your clothes are soaked through, and Aleksander still has one hand fisted into your shirt as you both collapse onto the wooden planks of the deck. You slump onto your back, every part of you aching and cold, as you try to catch your breath.

“You are never to do anything like that ever again.” Aleksander states firmly, but there’s a wrecked quality to his voice that tugs at your heartstrings.

“I don’t plan on it.” Pulling yourself up weakly into a sitting position, you drop your forehead against his shoulder and murmur a quiet, “I’m sorry, Sasha.”

He holds onto the back of your neck with one hand, and lifts his head up to survey your ranks.

“Any casualties?”

“A few.” Sturmhond says. “Your healers are seeing to them now, there shouldn’t be anything serious.” Aleksander stands, and he extends a hand to help you up. “Sokolov’s soldiers retreated as soon as the sea whip was freed.”

Aleksander nods, and you feel too weak to celebrate your victory.

There’s a red blur at the corner of your vision, and you turn towards it, extending a hand to grasp at the sleeve of a kefta.

“Thank you, Ivan.” You say in a grateful whisper.

His eyes scour over you, soaked to the skin, blood under your nose, and eyes heavy with the exhaustion of having your heart meddled with by two warring heartrenders. He nods in response, his eyes softening minutely.

When you turn back to face him, Aleksander has his kefta back on, and aside from his wet hair, he barely looks like he had just taken a swim along the Bone Road with the sea whip. Quite unlike you.

He wraps his cloak around your body, rubbing at your arms as he presses his chest against your back. Blinking in confusion, you realise a warm breeze is drying your clothes. Zoya gives you a small nod, and you smile gratefully at her.

There’s a rushing sound of water churning violently, and you stare open mouthed as the sea whip rises above the sea, towering over Sokolov’s ship. As it’s body tilts forward, you realise what it’s about to do.

“Everybody get down!” You cry out, at the same time Sturmhond yells,

“Hit the deck!”

Aleksander grabs you, and you cling to the front of his kefta as he ducks the two of you down beside the edge of the ship. His grip is hard, holding your body close to his with one arm, whilst the other grasps onto a rope attached to the ship.

When the sea whip hits the ocean, curling the length of its body around Sokolov’s ship, you hear the roar of the resulting waves. Squeezing your eyes shut, water sprays over your head as the sea whip crushes the ship in its coils. The deck of your ship tilts, and Aleksander tightens his hold on you fiercely.

For a long moment you’re subjected to clinging desperately onto Aleksander as the deck rocks back and forth violently. The sound of wood breaking and shattering echoes through the thunder of the waves.

Then silence.

Waves sway at a normal rate, and the sea is devoid of any sign of what had just occurred. A pirate battle featuring a mythical sea dragon.

The crew and your Grisha slowly crawl out of the nooks they had safeguarded themselves into. Whilst you might all be soaked, and you’re still trembling in Aleksander’s arms, everyone seems unharmed.

Then the rushing sound returns and the sea whip rises from the waterline.

Sturmhond yells out commands, and his people scramble to retrieve their weapons.

“Wait!” You cry out, legs wobbling as you rush down the stairs and hurry over the deck to stand in front of the sea whip. Aleksander follows you closely.

“Hold your fire.” He orders, and despite the fact that they are mostly Sturmhond’s crew, they lower their guns and grappling hooks.

The sea whip doesn’t tower over your ship like he had done to Sokolov’s ship, instead he lowers his head down so that his chin rests on the edge of the deck in front of you.

Resting your forehead against the chilly skin of the sea whip’s nose, you flatten your palm against the front of his face.

“Thank you.” You say softly.

There’s quiet acceptance in his eyes, the same expression that you had seen from the stag. The amplifiers give out their power on their own terms. Giving him a nod of understanding, you turn back to Aleksander.

“Where’s Alina?”

She heads down the stairs, eyeing the sea whip cautiously, and Sturmhond hands her a knife as she nears you.

Stepping away, you allow her to approach the sea whip. A wave of dizziness seizes you, and you inhale slowly, turning away as Alina takes his life. Blood trickles over the deck, and your stomach twists.

Walking towards Aleksander, you can see the concern on his face. It’s likely you don’t look very well. Black spots fill your vision, and sound becomes distorted as you stumble forward. Fortunately, you manage to make it into his outstretched arms before you lose consciousness.

»»---------------------►

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