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criminalamnesia · 2 years ago

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Dancing With Our Hands Tied

summary: Nikolai confronts you about unspoken feelings.

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you listening?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And you wanted him, too.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And you knew he wasn’t lying.

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undiscovered-horizon · 1 year ago

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"Sea shanties" - Nikolai Lantsov x Reader

[mentions of a minor injury and blood]

SUMMARY: Alina catches Sturmhond in a surprising moment of weakness when he's quietly watching you sing to yourself and fix the net.

WORDCOUNT: ~ 2.7k

>>Grishaverse-inspired playlist<<

☽ REQUESTS ARE OPEN ☾

The cold wind nips at your exposed skin and part of you beckons you to return under the deck to finish sewing the net back together. But you dread returning among the sailors: despite truly being a lovely bunch, their constant chattering and liveliness can wear you out. The berths and cabins are warm, yes, but the sea is silent, predictable and, most of all, doesn’t expect engagement. As long as you let her be, she leaves you alone in return. Here, where cold wind tugs at your clothes and saltwater spray your face, you can finally take a deep breath and relax your tense shoulders. Stitching the nets is a very monotone, maybe even boring, activity but it’s exactly what you need. Your hands fix the knots on their own, guided by experience, allowing your mind to let go of duties and worries, to slip away into much more pleasant thoughts.

“I’ll wander, weep and moan. All for my jolly sailor, until he sails home,” you sing barely above a whisper. Truthfully, you can’t recall where you learned the song. It’s as if you’ve always known it, the melody haunting you whenever you’re getting lost in thought.

Alina lets out a sigh of relief when she finally finds Sturmhond. For a moment she was really considering whether he could snap his fingers and vanish. He’s leaning against the doorframe but his broad shoulders still block most of the view of the deck. Sturmhond is completely oblivious to her presence and Alina has a bit too much spite in her to let the opportunity go. She quietly approaches him, harbouring a wicked hope that maybe she can scare him and single-handedly rub away that smug smirk of his.

She stops a pace or two behind him, taking in a deep breath to yell right into his ear. "Sturmhond, I-"

But the privateer is quick to silence her:

"Keep your voice down!" he hisses at Alina.

The Sun Summoner frowns at the privateer. Not only did she not scare him but also seems to be interrupting something. And considering his wish to keep things quiet, Sturmhond is doing something he knows he shouldn’t. She stares at him through half-closed eyes, beaming with suspicion, when she hears a faint hum distracting her from constructing some passive-aggressive remark. Alina recognizes your voice, although it sounds a lot softer than what she’s used to. Being the boatswain, you’re mostly heard yelling out orders for the maintenance crew that you’re watching over; forcing seafarers to tie perfect knots, no matter how many tries it takes them and raising Hell for the smallest error in repairing sails. Even if you might come off as harsh, credit is due as Volkvolny’s sails and equipment are kept impeccable. Your discipline has definitely played a significant part in Sturmhond’s successful betrayal of the Black General.

Listening in, over the howling wind and crashing waves, Alina and Nikolai eavesdrop on the sombre song you’re singing quietly to yourself — a story of a woman mourning her lover who never returned from the sea. Despite the heaviness of the words leaving your mouth, your voice is rid of dread as though such a woeful story is nowhere near relatable to you. Alina doesn’t notice that detail but Sturmhond surely does. In fact, it brings him a sense of relief: after all, how could he compete with a dead man for your love?

A mischievous smile creeps onto Alina’s face as she’s looking between you and Sturmhond. As far as she can tell, you’re completely oblivious to the small audience watching you go about your duties. The sailor, however, is unable to control his soft expression and that lovesick, mellow look in his eyes. To be honest, Sturmhond looks so removed from reality, he might actually be unaware that there are more people in the world than just him and you.

“So, genius privateer Sturmhond, the fright of the sea is in love with the boatswain,” Alina whispers, barely holding in an impish snicker, “but instead of his usual bravado he cowers away, settling for watching her from afar like a creep.”

He seems to ponder her words for a moment, nodding his head ever so slightly. “That is a bit embarrassing, isn’t it?” he asks. Nikolai appears to be well aware of his affliction but rendered powerless in the face of his heart’s desire, he can only accept the state of things.

“I wanted to say pathetic but either way works.”

Sturmhond looks at Alina out of the corner of his eye but only for a moment, unwilling to waste any more time not admiring you. “Wouldn’t it be more pathetic to be the best privateer in all of Ravka’s history but not know love?”

Alina clenches her fists. She puckers her lips, suddenly feeling hot as blood rushes to her face. Saints have mercy - he’s right. The sole act of seeing eye to eye with the blond man isn’t as terrible as the act of admitting it and stroking his ego. “I hate to say it but I agree,” she grits through her teeth.

Nikolai notices her discomfort. He doesn’t hide a certain satisfaction in the effect he has on her - it’s amusing to see her paper mache confidence falter, although he is painfully aware that this will prove problematic later on. “Oh my, I might think you actually tolerate me.”

She forces herself into a contemptuous scowl - it’s a little overdone to be considered natural. “Don’t get ahead of yourself,” Alina dismisses him.

“You know, I might be an incredible captain and all but without her…” Sturmhond shakes his head. His eyes follow your barely noticeable movements as you weave the net back together. “This whole ship would have already sunk.”

But she doesn’t believe him - not entirely. If she is to believe Tamar, and Alina doesn’t have much reason not to, Sturmhond chose Volkvolny despite having more captain-worthy vessels available. “Somehow, I don’t believe you’d allow that.”

“Right. If she wasn’t on this ship, I wouldn’t be either.”

Alina almost comes to the conclusion that you’re the sole reason he chose Volkvolny to be his flagship but she mostly dismisses that thought - Sturmhond may be doting but he’s far from completely losing his mind. He simply doesn’t give the impression of someone who’d shuffle his life around just to be able to creep on his boatswain. Little did she know at the time but the strangeness and dread the future holds is going to prove her wrong.

Their conversation is halted when one of the sailors on night watch passes by them. Alina recognizes him by the burn mark spreading across the right side of his face. Tolya called him ‘Marquis’. His long, blond hair sway in the cold wind. As he’s carrying a heavy crate from starboard to port, he’s quietly singing along to your song with certain carelessness as though he’s not entirely aware he’s doing it:

“My heart is pierced by Cupid, I disdain all glittering gold. There is nothing can console me-”

Alina yawns. She’s had a long, exciting day and tomorrow is not going to be any easier, that she’s sure of. Whatever she wants to tell Sturmhond will have to wait until dawn when the captain wriggles free of his heart’s restless desires. Even though at first she’s annoyed that she has to wait because Sturmhond decided to play a lovesick teenager, she quickly finds it may be for the best: an in-depth discussion will surely erupt between the two of them and doing so when the moon is high just doesn’t seem like the best idea. Aside from that, she can really use a few more hours of sleep.

The Sun Summoner murmurs something resembling ‘Goodnight’ to Sturmhond and turns around to go back to the room she shares with Tamar, when a great wave shakes the ship, throwing her against a wooden wall. Despite the impact not being exceptionally painful to her, she’s sore anyway, the sound of it carried quite well.

Hearing a thud, you look up out of reflex. Glancing around the deck, your watchful eyes stop on Sturmhond, who’s staring back at you. The privateer gives the impression that you’ve just become privy to a side of him he’s not so keen on showing. Perhaps ‘side’ doesn’t quite mirror the idea. ‘Layer’ seems more fitting. It’s as though he dropped the facade of quick wit and evasive answers, only to show the exhaustion of a man carrying the world on his shoulders for a day too long. Despite the silence and distance between you, this staring feels intimate; both of you are showing something raw to one another in the gullible hope that the other will keep it secret.

He appears different, more calm than smug, than he does during the day, although still beautiful enough to make you flustered. Truly, he looks like he breaks the hearts of naive girls for a living. Despite that, as well as your experience with sailors in general, you found yourself craving his attention. Whether it’s intentional or not, Sturmhond has the ability to make people feel seen and their efforts acknowledged. Considering that establishing your position among sea dogs as a woman is a real challenge, maybe it was your hurt ego that clawed at any possibility or delusion of your exceptionalism. And maybe the privateer never intended for you to be hopelessly in love with him. Sure, the two of you have flirted back and forth but you never assumed it means as much to him as it does to you. It’s just the way he is, right?

A sharp, stinging pain in your finger makes you yelp. Discarding fantasies about the blond man in an awful frock coat, you look at your sore hand, now noticing a drop of crimson slowly rolling down your skin.

“Well, shit,” you whisper to yourself.

You put the bleeding finger against your lips. It’s a small cut, it shouldn’t bleed longer than a minute or two and then you can get back to-

“Are you alright?”

Sturmhond’s worried tone elicits mixed but engaging feelings from you. On one hand, you’re giddy at any crumb of attention he gives you. On the other hand, you just failed at the second easiest maintenance job a ship can have - one Hell of a way to make a good impression on the captain that always seems to fall on four paws.

“Yeah, just pricked my finger with a needle fixing the net. Nothing fatal.”

“Why are you doing this anyway? You’re a boatswain. This is a deckhand’s job,” he says as he grabs the net from your hands and tosses it aside.

“Believe it or not but I actually enjoy this. It’s peaceful, helps me get my mind off of things.”

He gives you a cocky half-grin. “Pricking your finger is just a tasteful addition, I presume?”

“Oh, you know, just trying to enrich things,” you joke back.

Sturmhond lets out a quiet, resigned sigh. Of course, you told everyone to go to sleep and finished the odd jobs yourself. “Have Tamar look at this,” he says in a soft voice. Despite the suddenly mild demeanour, his smug expression stays in place. “I’ll get someone else to finish.”

“Alright, captain,” you reluctantly agree. “But can it wait a few minutes? I like it here.”

Your gaze returns to the sapphire waves and black firmament, the line of horizon barely distinguishable between them. To your own surprise, Sturmhond sits down next to you on a barrel. “Just a few,” he says insincerely. You may not know it but he’s willing to sit there with you for much longer than a few minutes.

Volkvolny bobs on the waves, headed somewhere in the South-East direction. Cold water sprays on your face and clothes but you don’t mind it. It’s quite refreshing. Only now do you notice how quiet the ship is. Most of the crew must already be asleep, revelling in the few hours of rest they have until dawn. The thought of sleeping sailors makes you aware of your own exhaustion, both physical and mental.

You barely stifle a yawn. Too tired to think twice, you lay your head against Sturmhond’s shoulder. He doesn’t shy away, quite the contrary - he wraps his arm around you, pulling you closer to his torso ever so slightly. He smells like expensive, imported cologne and seaweed. The fragrance is hardly likable but you’ve grown to earn some masochistic pleasure from it simply because it belongs to him. The blue frock coat he’s wearing feels nice against your skin.

“Why do you always sing that song?” he asks after a few minutes of silence.

“I always sing or hum doing manual jobs. It’s a habit I can’t kill,” you answer quietly. It’s hard to keep your eyes open and you can hear your words starting to slur. “I grew up in Novokribirsk. I know a lot of shanties.”

“Know anything happier than mourning a sailor?”

“Hardly,” you let out a tired chuckle. “Somehow, sailors have an aversion to happy songs. There’s one you might like.” You clear your throat, trying to recall the song from your cloudy, tired memories. “I’m a broken man on the Os Kervo pier, the last of Ravka’s privateers.”

Sturmhond furrows his eyebrows and he shakes his head in disapproval. “No, it’s still depressing.” Whether he means to or not, his finger is gently brushing circles against your arm.

“Alright, another one, um… Oh! Don’t haul on the ropes, don’t climb up the mast. If you see a sailing ship, it might be your last.”

“Ominous and tedious. I’m actually surprised you can put both in one song.”

To Sturmhond’s dissatisfaction, you pull away from him. Still, the distance between you is considerably small and you feel each other’s breaths on your skin. With half-lidded eyes out of exhaustion, you give him a wide smile. His breath shakes in his chest.

“You know, you might be the most optimistic sailor I’ve ever met,” you confess.

He could kiss you right now. Saints only know how much he wants to. If the odds are in his favour, and his vanity would like to think they are, you might even kiss him back. Or at least not slap him. Would your lips feel soft and warm against his? Would you taste of saltwater and rye bread like he always imagines? Would you giggle nervously after? In that specific way that makes him forget to breathe?

But Sturmhond can only hope your tired mind can’t compute his nervousness. “Does that title come with a prize?”

“Well, I’m here, aren’t I?”

“Is being the most optimistic sailor truly worth such honour?” he says in an overly dramatic tone. He jokingly puts his hand on his chest. “Are you not underestimating your presence, my lady?”

“You get extra credit because I like you. A lot.”

Sturmhond swallows nervously. Since when does he get nervous around women? For a moment you’re just staring at each other again. The desire to push his lips against yours is back flooding his mind, now stronger and more desperate than before. The first chance might have been a coincidence but the second… He slowly leans in, watching your face for any signs of discomfort. But you look just as lovely as you did in the morning. His nose almost brushes yours and-

“I might have a happy one,” you suddenly speak up. You look back at the sea, furrowing your eyebrows in deep thought. “Saints, how did it go?” you whisper to yourself. “Prick your finger, it is done. Roll her out and spread her wings, the time has come for better things.”

Having mastered self-control, Sturmhond doesn’t make his disappointment visible. The third time’s the charm, right? “First one that doesn’t make me want to drown myself.” The bitterness in his voice is almost inaudible but you’re too tired to notice.

“I’ll sing you the whole thing but that has to wait until morning, alright?”

“I’m holding you to that.”

His heart quickens its beat when you lay your head back on his shoulder. He should probably tell you to go back to your berth and get some sleep but maybe it can wait a few minutes? He likes it here.

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ellewritesalright · 9 months ago

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The Panther and the Hound

Nikolai Lantsov x reader

A/N: Hello folks! This is a request from an anon that has been sitting in my drafts for many months now so I hope y'all enjoy!!

Request: nikolai lantsov x yul bataar!reader, black cat reader and golden retreiver nikolai.

Synopsis: Needing help on a mission at sea, Nikolai recruits a captain feared by slavers and military ships alike. The Panther, as her enemies call her, or, as Tolya and Tamar call her, their sister.

Warnings: Mentions of heists, fighting, and violence, but mostly fluff and pining I'd say.

Word count: 2450

..........

Tamar and Tolya stood at the bow of the Volkvolny. There was no containing their grins as they watched a ship with black sails sit docked in Ketterdam's Fifth Harbour. The Prowler was a fine ship, with a hardy crew and a fearsome captain, a captain that just so happened to be their sister.

The Volkvolny sailed nearer and nearer to the harbour, and when it docked the twins were the first off the ramp. Nikolai could barely keep up with them as they approached the Prowler. He wasn't sure why they were so excited. Sure, they hadn't seen their sister in a year and a bit, but he couldn't fathom actually wanting to see a sibling; he wouldn't mind only having to see his own brother every five years or so, let alone just over a year. Yet, Tamar and Tolya were practically giddy when they'd convinced Nikolai to partner with the fearsome Panther for a job.

You were supposedly the greatest captain on the True Sea. You were credited with a long list of ships you'd sent to the depths, and an even longer list of slavers you'd cut down with a slice of your sword or a twist of your corporalki wrist.

He wasn't sure how much of your reputation was built on embellishment, but once he saw you giving command from the top deck of your ship, he could see what some of the fuss was about. You stood straight-backed and proud. You donned a cutlass and a black pistol at your hips. Your eyes had such a sharp glint to them, he wondered if you ever even had to make use of your sword; surely your looks could kill.

But as you saw Tamar and Tolya at the top of the ramp, the tough exterior melted and you grinned like the sun.

“Look what the tide washed up, huh?” You said, voice clear as molten sugar.

Nikolai stood aside as he watched the reunion of siblings. Tolya scooped you up in his arms first, and then Tamar squeezed you enough to make you let out a breathless laugh.

“I think you’ve grown, little sister,” Tolya grinned as he rested his forearm on your head. “You’re a taller armrest now.”

“Very funny,” you said drolly, though you maintained a smile. Tolya dropped his arm.

“I think it’s just her boots. Are they new?” Tamar said as she observed your footwear.

“Knicked them off a ‘leather merchant’ bound for Ketterdam who was hiding two dozen Kaelish women in his cabins.”

“Did you sink his ship?”

“Does a spear pierce best when sharp?”

A comfortable silence settled between you three siblings.

Your eyes met Nikolai’s and your smile curved into a slight smirk as you eyed his teal coat.

“Who’s the peacock?” you asked Tamar and Tolya.

Before the twins could answer, Nikolai stepped forward and held his hand out to you. “Sturmhond.” You shook, then he glanced up at the black sails. “You have a lovely ship.”

“Lovely? Never heard it described that way, Sturmhond,” you said, a hint of amusement in your voice.

Nikolai shrugged slightly. “The craft of the mast and the hull are beautiful. Did you have a hand in the design?”

“Not at all. I commandeered it from its old captain.”

“Commandeered it?” Tolya let out a soft chuckle.

“Mutinied it from your old captain, you mean,” Tamar piped up, a sly edge to her voice.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing, Tam,” you lightly glared at her.

“It is generally frowned upon to mutiny against your captain.” Tamar tilted her head. “But in your circumstances, I think you were justified.”

Tolya looked at Nikolai, ready to let him in on this conversation. “Our baby sister here held a mutiny against the old captain after he sank a ship full of Fjerdan refugees fleeing for Novyi Zem.”

Your face hardened. “There were children onboard. Families. I felt thirty frightened heartbeats, all of them put out after he brought the cannons around on their ship.”

“Why?” Nikolai had to ask.

“Because that Ravkan bastard was a nationalist zealot who would rather see innocent people dead than allow a Fjerdan flag to sail,” you replied, tone still hard. “So, I organized a mutiny that night, took his ship, then I dumped him on some frozen rock of an island up in the Bone Road.”

Nikolai nodded as he listened to this. He couldn’t help but admire your actions against your old captain.

“But enough of this prattle,” you said, clapping your hands together. “We have a job to do, don’t we?”

……….

You sailed out the next day. After a strategic meeting with your sister, brother and their interesting captain, the Prowler hit the open waters.

It was your ship that this Sturmhond needed most. While his Volkvolny was well equipped, yours was faster. It amused you that your ship was faster; as they sailed side by side, his Hound of the Waves couldn’t keep up with your Panther, as your crew affectionately called her. But Sturmhond needed that speed for this mission of his.

In your meeting the night before, he said there was something he needed to steal off the coast of West Ravka and charter to Novyi Zem in one week. You’d replied that you only needed four days of sailing to get all the way across the True Sea.

Soon enough, you were docked in West Ravka. You treated with Sturmhond on his ship this time. Your brother and sister had sailed with you for the short journey, though they seemed eager for you to see the Volkvolny. As they toured you around the ship, a bunch of tables were set out.

“Sturmhond likes for the crew to dine together before a big mission,” Tamar explained.

“From the smell of it, it’s the chef’s best turnip stew,” Tolya grinned.

Dinner was set out on the main deck of Sturmhond’s ship. Tamar and Tolya sat with some of the crew, and you went to pull up a chair from a nearby table. As you took hold of the wooden arm, someone at the table said your name.

“Have a seat, captain,” Sturmhond smiled up at you.

You raised a brow at him, ready for him to buckle under the intensity of your eyes. He didn’t. You decided to pull out the chair and sit beside him.

“I’m surprised I didn’t see you there at first, especially considering that garish coat of yours,” you said cooly.

“Not all of us can pull off black leather,” he replied, raising his cup slightly to you.

“And you think you’re pulling off that teal?”

“Am I not? It’s a shame that I’ve only heard this now, considering I’ve worn this coat for years now. It’s sad to think none of my crew have had the heart to tell me it doesn’t suit me,” he remarked, still smiling confidently.

“It’s a bold colour. Must attract a lot of attention when you wear it on the street,” you said as you took a sip from your cup. “I hope you’re clever enough not to wear it on our job tomorrow.”

“Thank you for your concern, but some say I’m very clever, you know,” he grinned.

“Is that so?”

He nodded, still smiling. You’d yet to see him without a smile on his face, whether it was friendly, polite, sly, confident, or clever.

One of the crew brought around a tray of food and set it out at your table. You both began to fill your plates.

“So,” Sturmhond began again once you started eating, “what got you onto the sea?”

“I followed my brother and sister out here,” You replied. “We split when I was sixteen. We docked in a Ravkan port near the border to Shu Han, and I crewed up away from them.”

“Why?”

“I needed the chance to grow. They’d protected me for all of my life, and I felt like I needed the space to be my own person.”

“So you left.”

You nodded. “When did you leave home, captain?”

“When I was fifteen.”

“So you know what it’s like.”

He nodded as well, his smile softening. “It’s tough at first.”

“Until you find sailors you can trust, it’s lonely.”

“Your siblings were that for me. Trusted them as soon as I met them.”

“I don’t know why, considering they’ve never ever looked friendly.”

Sturmhond chuckled. “Regardless, I am glad I did.”

“I’m glad you did too,” you raised your glass slightly to him. “Having met you now, I’m not sure what all the fuss is about, but my siblings greatly admire you.”

Sturmhond seemed about to take offence, then he noticed the sly spark in your eye. “You’re tricky.”

“Am I?” you smirked at him.

He merely smiled and brought his cup to his lips again, watching you over the brim.

……….

“Ah, here he is: Captain Surplus.” Nikolai heard you tease as he stepped onto the Prowler the night of the mission. You stood at the railing of the upper deck, your telescope in hand.

In order not to draw too much attention, only a skeleton crew went ashore to carry the package to the docks. Sturmhond, deemed non-essential by the twins, had relented to staying behind. So, he decided to wait with you aboard your ship so that he could sail with you once the package was acquired. Tolya and Tamar would captain the Volkvolny across the True Sea at a slightly slower pace in order to throw off any authorities that might be chasing the package.

“Very funny,” Nikolai said with a smile and scrunch of his nose at you.

“Thank you.” You handed him your telescope. “I spy something orange.”

“I spy?” He raised a brow at you.

“Yes. Have you never played?”

“Not since I was a child.”

He raised the telescope to his eye and peered beyond the long docks to the Ravkan port town. His vision dragged along the different colours, waiting for something orange to appear.

“Is it that sweet shop?”

“Nope.”

He looked again. “That market stall?”

“Which one?”

“There’s only one orange one: the fruit vendor.”

“Hmm… no.”

He gave you a quick glance from the corner of his eye, unimpressed by your smirk.

“Given up, Captain Surplus?”

“Never,” he grinned. “Is it… that bush with those pointy-looking flowers?”

“Those flowers are pink.”

“They’re orange.”

“They’re very much pink.”

“Fine. They’re salmon then.”

“Salmons aren’t orange, they’re pink.”

“You’re splitting hairs.”

“By not being delusional?”

His eyes narrowed on a crate with a bright orange tiger painted on the side of it. “Is it that crate?”

“Which crate?”

“Saints, woman, what other crate?” He grumbled softly. He pointed it out. “That one. The one with the tiger.”

You grabbed his wrist, raising it so the telescope was level to your eye. Nikolai pretended to be casual as you held onto him.

“That crate?” your lips frowned a bit as you stared through the lenses.

“Yes, that one. Is that the orange thing? The tiger?”

You lowered his arm and gave him a look, almost to say he was wrong. Then a smile cracked on your lips. “Yes, that’s the orange thing,” you said sweetly.

“You’re incorrigible.”

“I know.”

He stared at you for a second too long, drawing your attention away from the harbour. He couldn't bring himself to play coy and look away once you looked back.

"Are you always smiling, or is your mouth just like that?" You asked him, eyes trailing along his face.

Nikolai laughed. "Which answer would you prefer?"

"The honest one."

"A smart choice," he said, still grinning. "The former."

"Really? Because I can recognize Tolya's handiwork from a mile away," you replied with a challenge in your eyes.

Nikolai held back his surprise at the shift in conversation. Still, he enjoyed the suspicious smirk you gave him.

"He's only tailored my eyes, hair, and nose," he replied. "Everything else is all me."

"I find that hard to believe," you said with an almost haughty tone as you turned back towards the harbour. "Lips as nice as those are hard to come by."

He blinked to catch up. Were you flirting with him? No, you couldn't be… could you? "Wait, what?"

But before you could answer, your Second called you over, and you stepped away from him.

"I'm sure you'll figure it out, captain," you smirked as you left him there to wonder.

..........

That night, as the Prowler was sailing towards Novyi Zem, there was a knock on your cabin door. You'd been forging some documents and you called out for the visitor to enter. You'd expected your Second, but when you glanced up, it was Sturmhond approaching your desk with his hands clasped behind his back. There was something almost militaristic about the way he often stood.

"Shouldn't you be asleep in the cabin I so graciously provided for you?" You asked, raising a brow at him.

"It's barely midnight. All my best ideas come to me after midnight."

"Is that so?" You leaned back in your chair. "Let's hear one of these ideas, then."

"There's my idea for a flying ship using Squaller crew members," he mused, smiling softly at you. "Then my glamorous idea about a device that recycles waste from the crew on the Volkvolny." He stepped a bit closer to your desk. "And of course there's my brilliant idea to come to your cabin tonight and confess that I'm mad about you."

You nearly dropped your pen. You looked up at Sturmhond, your eyes tracing his features, trying to detect his motives. The frightening thing was that he seemed to be telling the truth. There was a hint of worry in his brow the longer you went without responding to him.

"So are you going to do it?" You asked.

A small wrinkle formed on his forehead. "Do what?"

"Confess your feelings for me?" You said in a small voice, a hint of hope underlining your words.

He smiled widely at you, his pretty grin once again lighting up his face. "I'm crazy for you. You're clever and kind and yet ruthless in the best of ways."

"I'm ruthless?"

"Beautifully so." He nodded.

You stood, walking around your desk to face him properly. "And you like that?"

"More than you could know," he said, still grinning at you.

"Then perhaps you should do something about it," you said to him, your eyes glancing at his perfect lips.

His grin widened as he dipped his head lower. He smelled like leather and vanilla. "Perhaps I should."

Then his perfect lips were on yours, and you were smiling into his kiss.

..........

A/N: Thanks for reading! Feel free to like, reblog, and comment--I really appreciate the feedback! Otherwise, I hope you have a great day/night :)

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@sweet0pia-uwu @notoakay @naushtheaspiringauthor @liter4ti @marchingicenotes7 @eyeofthestorm @poseidont @hashcakes

#nikolai lantsov x reader #nikolai lantsov fanfic #nikolai lantsov x you #nikolai lantsov fic #nikolai lantsov oneshots #grishaverse fanfic #sturmhond x reader

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bladeinthedark · 2 years ago

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Pairing: Nikolai Lantsov x female!reader Request: hi! could i request a nikolai x heartrender reader where the reader helps comfort/take care of nikolai after he turns back to himself after turning into the monster one night? tysm! <3

Summary: When everything is falling apart around Nikolai, you’re there to support him and bring more peace into his life. Words: 4k Warnings: mentions of blood/injuries, lots of angst

You had been in the King’s service for quite a while. When you had first joined the Second Army as a child, you never imagined to one day find yourself in the King of Ravka’s inner circle, but now you were one of the first to be called to the King if he needed help.

The help you could offer was mostly connected to the powers gifted to you. Being a heartrender secured lots of different tasks in the King’s service for you, but there was one task given you that was the most important.

Countless times you had sat on the King’s bedside, your fingers moving over his palm as you slowed down his heartbeat. Nikolai’s dishevelled blonde hair was spread over the pillow, his eyes losing focus again and again as he desperately tried to look at you. “It’s alright, moi tsar,” you whispered, your voice reflecting the desperation inside you. It hurt you to see him like this. Over and over again.

When his eyes closed, his heartbeat slowing to a sleepy rate, you stayed for a bit longer than needed. How many times would you have to do this again?

Today had been a slow day at the palace. Genya had left this morning to head out to a First Army camp, Zoya leaving to take a ship to Kerch for some private business she had. That meant you and Nikolai were basically alone in the palace for a few days. At least when it came to your friends.

David was still there, but he didn’t like to come out of his workshop anyway, unless Genya made him.

However, just because your two closest friends were away didn’t mean you didn’t have any work to do. You had a heartrendering lesson to teach today, out on the grounds of the Little Palace, with the teens this time. You didn’t have a preference when it came to teaching different age groups, but all of them had a different way of listening to you and then learning from the moves you made.

It was a stormy day today and the clouds were dark, heavy with the upcoming rain. You liked to train outside and teach with the fresh air around you. It was a calming atmosphere for a lot of students and for you as well.

Yet your time was cut short. It soon started pouring rain, thunder roaring in the sky and you quickly directed everyone to get back inside the palace. “We will continue the lesson tomorrow,” you assured them. You wanted to teach a new unit and it wasn’t worth it trying to gather everyone in a room again. Until silence would have settled, your time would already be over.

So you spent the rest of your day going over letters that had been sent to you in your office. You cut them open neatly, read through them and then made two different piles. The one on your left would be for letters that didn’t require a response and the one on your right would be the ones that you had to get back to at some point. The right pile ended up being much higher than the first one.

You dipped your quill into a small bottle of ink, starting to write your letter to a Commander of the First Army. He had requested a few Second Army troops, but you couldn’t give him what he wanted at the moment.

A knock on the door made you look up from the parchment. “Come in,” you said, but you already knew who it was. You would recognise that heartbeat anywhere. It was the one you so frequently looked for, calming it, gifting this heart a well needed rest.

“Moi tsar,” you greeted the King when he closed the door behind him. He was wearing his uniform, blond hair slightly dishevelled, a few strands hanging down onto his forehead. He pushed the sleeves of his brown jacket up as he made his way over to you. Your desk was standing by the window, the lightning outside illuminating the scene every now and then.

“You still call me that every time,” Nikolai chuckled, pulling the chair from your dressing table over to the desk. He sat down opposite of you, a grin on his face. “What is my favourite heartrender working on, huh?” He seemed to be in a good mood. Just a few nights ago you had visited his chambers to free him from his pain again. To free him from the hold the monster had on him even after it visibly disappeared.

Nikolai had become more than just your prince or your king over the years. He had become a good friend, a best friend. You trusted him with your life and he trusted you with his.

After the monster had settled inside him after that fateful fight, he came to you for help. He knew you couldn’t make it go away, but you could grant him a little peace every time that dark storm raged inside him again. He trusted you, to make this your shared secret and to look after him in some way. This situation made your bond even stronger, unbreakable. Whenever his body ached, his heart dared to burst out of his chest and he was haunted by visions and nightmares, you were there to bring him calm, like the sound of soft ocean waves hitting the shore or the birds singing outside of his window.

Nikolai wasn’t too sure if what he was feeling in his stomach sometimes, when he looked at you, was only the feeling of relief, someone coming to help him. It felt more like something that reached a lot deeper.

He had so much admiration for you. Even when his limbs were filled with pain, when his hands felt like they were on fire, shivers sometimes ran through his body whenever you touched him. Your soft fingertips running over his skin left a mark on him no one else could. He wanted to carry that feeling around all day, at all times.

“Just answering some letters. There have been quite a few letters from the First Army,” you explained to him, but placed the quill down to make sure Nikolai knew he had all your attention.

“And what is my favourite king doing on a stormy day like this?” You asked, a smile on your face. Talking to Nikolai always felt so easy, so natural. There were no secrets between you two.

Except for the yearning deep inside you. The urge to kiss his forehead whenever you helped him fall asleep. The desire to lace your fingers together whenever he put his hand out to you. His pink lips looking so inviting when you came to check up on him in the morning.

Everything about Nikolai was admirable. His looks, his personality, even the way he carried himself. Yet you felt like giving in to these feelings, your deepest desires, would be a death sentence for your friendship.

For you, Nikolai was a good friend. For others, he was their king, representing a country that had been divided for centuries. He had more important things to do than form a deeper relationship with a heartrender in his service. There was enough space for you in his life to be a friend, but your love might be too big to fit his chest in times like these.

You could still dream about it at night though. Every now and then.

“I’m your favourite king? I didn’t know there was another one,” he chuckled and then picked one of the grapes from your fruit bowl. You always kept something to eat around when you were working on your desk.

“I started to-” he said with a full mouth, but then paused to speak clearly again. “I started going over some documents as well. Was really boring though, so I’m here now to check up on you.”

Nikolai did complain about his work load sometimes, but you knew that he would do even more if he had to. He would do anything for this country and make it a peaceful, balanced place again after all the chaos it had to endure over the years. The Darkling’s terror was over, as was the horrible irresponsibly of his father. The young king was here to put things right again.

“Well, I’m glad you’re keeping me company. The palace is a lot more quiet when Genya and Zoya are gone, don’t you think?” You leaned back in your chair, crossing your legs while Nikolai continued to eat some of the grapes.

“Yeah, it is. I don’t see David getting dragged around as much as usual.”

You let out a chuckle at his answer, crossing your arms in front of your chest. “He needs to get out of the workshop sometimes, you know that.”

“I do, I do,” the blonde man insisted, eventually playing with the letters you had deemed as unimportant. “So, will you join me for dinner tonight?”

Dinner? You didn’t know when you had dinner alone, just the two of you, for the last time.

“Just us. Won’t even drag David out of the workshop.”

A tingling sensation spread in your stomach. A dinner for just the two of you sounded almost too good to be true. But it was surely a thing between friends. Catching up on recent work, enjoying a day inside since the weather was so horrible…

“I would love to,” you agreed eventually, nodding reassuringly.

A grin spread over Nikolai’s face and his eyes lit up. Not only due to the lightning that basked your room in light again.

“Then I will see you at the usual time, my favourite heartrender.”

Then he was gone, leaving you with a fast beating heart and the urge to count down the seconds until dinner.

Dinner with Nikolai never came.

You sat in the dining hall at the long table, in your usual spot, right next to the King’s seat at the head of the table. The rain was still splattering against the window rapidly, the candles on the table were reflecting their light onto the polished plates in front of you.

Your hands fumbled with the sleeves of your red kefta, a sigh leaving your lips.

The white and golden walls of the room were starting to make you feel trapped in this room. Guards were standing outside, but the room itself, it was empty, except for you.

The eerie silence was only interrupted by the pitter-patter of the rain and the thunder roaring outside. Your gaze travelled over portraits and expensive furniture, over all the gold and glamour you were surrounded with.

Anything to distract you from the pressure in your chest.

Did Nikolai just forget about your meeting? No, he wasn’t someone to do that.

Did he deem something else as more important? Maybe, but he would have told you. He would have sent someone to inform you about any changes in his schedule, especially if there was something planned with you.

Did something happen to him?

The thought alone sent a wave of nausea through you. Your fingers tapped against the polished table, feeling continuously nervous. You couldn’t just sit around here all night.

You pushed back the chair and then stormed towards the large double doors that led back into the hallway of the palace.

“Miss-”

It was probably one of the guards wanting to stop you from leaving. He probably had some kind of excuse on his lips why you should stay, but you knew that something must have happened if Nikolai didn’t appear at the promised time.

Too much time had already passed. He could be dead by now. And you had been sitting around, waiting for the food to be served.

When you turned the corner, wanting to head straight to Nikolai’s office to look if he was there, David came rushing towards you. His hair was even more dishevelled than usual, sweat was pooling on his forehead and he was out of breath by the time he reached you.

“Where is Nikolai?”

It was all you said. He must know.

“He’s in his chambers. I was about to call you for-”

You didn’t need another explanation. Without waiting a second longer, you left David standing in the hallway and your feet took you to Nikolai’s chambers as fast as you could. The walls around you seemed to be spinning by the time you arrived in the other wing of the palace, standing in front of the king’s chambers.

“Saints,” you breathed out, already being able to hear Nikolai’s rapid heartbeat.

You slipped into his room, locking the door behind you.

Nikolai was sitting on the edge of the bed, blood running down his temple, claws still present on his hands. He was shirtless, his chest filled with bruises and scratches.

Your heart almost stopped. You didn’t like to see him in pain. Then there was the overwhelming urge to take it from him, to tend to his wounds somehow, even if you weren’t a healer.

“Nikolai,” you breathed out and he turned to look at you. He seemed to look right past you for a moment, until his eyes seemed to fill with tears. “My favourite heartrender,” he croaked, lifting his arm to reach out to you.

In a few big steps, you were by the bed, in front of him.

You knew he had turned into the monster again. He had probably fought with an animal, maybe losing himself between tree branches again, their sharp ends poking through his skin. Your hands found his and he visibly tensed up again.

“The claw-” he started, but you were quick to interrupt him.

“I don’t care, Nikolai. I don’t care,” you whispered, voice breaking as tears welled up in your eyes as well. All this pain for a young man with already too much weight on his shoulders.

For a moment, you closed your eyes, focusing on his heart rate once more. As you had done so many times before. His heartbeat was a familiar sound in your ear, a sound following to your dreams as if it was pounding exactly like yours.

Nikolai relaxed, his heart slowing down once more and his breathing regulating again as well.

“It’s alright,” you whispered and kneeled down in front of him. His claws slowly disappeared and you watched him close his eyes for a moment. His jaw unclenched and a single tear ran down his cheek, but you were quick to wipe it away.

“Everything’s alright,” you reassured him, slowly getting back onto your feet and grabbing a towel from the nearby dressing table. With precision, you wiped the blood off his temple, before sitting down next to him on the bed.

Nikolai didn’t look at you for what seemed like an eternity. His gaze was fixed on his hands as if they were displaying a horror he had never seen before. His breathing stayed the same but you could feel his heartbeat slowly rising once more. Your hand found its way onto his back, trying to keep him calm, using your powers to assist that goal.

The lightning outside lit up the room again. You could see more blood stains on Nikolai’s arms and his chest. His blonde hair was darker from dirt gathered in it. A sign of his journey, of the fate he was haunted by.

The monster would always be a part of him.

And comforting him would always be your priority.

“Want me to run you a bath?” You asked softly, fingers gliding over his bare back. Under different circumstances, you would have used the time to enjoy the view in front of you. Seeing his bare skin, his hard chest and wondering what it would feel like to let your lips meet his soft skin.

But this was far from any of the scenarios you wished for in your head.

A nod from your king.

You left him in his bed for a moment as you prepared the bathtub in the adjacent bathroom. You also got some fresh towels ready as well as some thin pants for Nikolai to sleep in, together with his night robe.

By the time everything was prepared, Nikolai was standing in the door already. He seemed a bit more collected now. “I need that bath,” he mumbled and started opening his pants. You turned around, staring at the wall in front of you with burning cheeks.

When you heard Nikolai settle in the bathtub, you dared to turn around again. The bubbles and foam were covering enough so you could only make out parts of the man’s chest. It still didn’t stop your own heartbeat from rising. Tending to his wounds was usually less intimate than watching him lean back in the bathtub, arms resting on either side of it.

“I will wait in the bedroom,” you assured him, but you were just by the door as his voice sounded through the room again.

“Stay here.”

You turned around to face him and there was a desperation in his eyes you hadn’t seen before. They seemed to be pleading with you to stay, to not leave him alone.

“I will.”

His expression relaxed once more and then he reached out for you. Your legs felt weak as you made your way closer to the tub, eventually letting your hands meet. His fingers intertwined with yours easily, as if they belonged into that position. Your eyes met again and the pain in them was gone. It had made space for something else – adoration.

His hazel eyes closed for another moment and when he opened them again, tears were dwelling on the edges, but a smile was on visible on his lips. “Thank you for doing this. For… all of this,” he whispered, his voice almost being drowned out by the sound of the rain outside.

You slowly knelt down to bring yourself to about the same height as Nikolai in the bathtub. Your other hand went to cover his as you kept it in a strong hold. You could feel the pulse in his arms, the loud beating of his heart and you knew that he was enjoying this moment just as much as you were. It just raised the question inside of you where all of this would go eventually. Would you be able to confess your feelings for the King? For someone you had sworn to protect and serve, but had found a good friend in instead?

His hand let go of yours and for a moment, you felt disappointment sink into your stomach. But Nikolai’s hand soon found the back of your neck, warmth spreading there and goosebumps making their way to every part of your body. You held your breath for a second as you felt a slight pressure on your neck. Nikolai moved you just a bit closer as he leaned forward as well. You were able to feel his breath on your lips, a shiver running down your back. You were so close – close enough to kiss.

“Can I?” His voice was barely more than a whisper.

The words were stuck in your throat, so all you did was nod, too afraid to destroy the moment and the silence between you.

Then his lips were on yours, light as a feather, but it seemed to shake you to your core. It felt wonderful, almost like flying, and as if a heavy weight was finally taken from your shoulder. The heat in your cheeks was rising, your hand finding its way into Nikolai’s blonde hair, slightly wet from the bath.

The pressure on your neck increased, so you moved forward a bit, enough to make it easier for the kiss to become deeper, more passionate. Kissing someone had never felt this good and when your hands cupped Nikolai’s cheeks, you could practically hear his heartbeat jumping. His hand stayed in your neck, a sign that he didn’t want this to end. Maybe ever.

Only when you had to breathe again, did you dare to pull away. His eyes were darker, filled with a tint of lust, but more importantly, his breathing had changed. It was faster, like his heartbeat. “You don’t know how many times I had wanted to do this.”

His confession was unexpected, but very welcome. “Me too.” It was just fair that he knew your feelings as well. For a moment, you regretted not saying something, or doing something, sooner, so you could have enjoyed this a lot earlier. But everything was perfect the way it was.

Slowly, with wobbly legs, you stood up again, but your eyes never left Nikolai’s as you walked over and grabbed a bathrobe and towels for him. “As much as I like kissing you, I think you need to wash all the blood off and get into your bed. Then maybe, you can get another kiss?”

A grin appeared on the King’s face at your words. It was filled with love, adoration and most importantly, he seemed happy. His shoulders didn’t look as tense anymore and the horror in his face had left, traces of the monster inside him fully retreated.

“Then I must get to bed immediately,” he agreed and as he slowly lifted himself out of the tub, you turned around to give him his privacy.

You watched the lightning outside, seeing the branches of the trees shaking in the wind. It was a beautiful sight, but you shivered at the thought of Nikolai being out there earlier, flying through the storm, coming back with wounds and blood all over him.

Arms wrapped around your waist, Nikolai’s head resting on your shoulder as he pulled you closer against him from behind. The bathrobe felt soft against you, but his breath at your cheek was enough to make your legs feel weak as well. A kiss was planted onto your cheek and you could feel Nikolai’s heartbeat slowing down more and more. He was relaxing, finally getting some emotional rest. But you would have to get him to bed as well, so he can let his body regenerate.

“Let’s go to bed,” you whispered, before turning around in his arms. Hands found their way to your hips as you looked at the man in front of you. The smile was still apparent on his lips, the same excitement and love in his eyes as before. “I can’t even say no to you when you say it like that,” he smiled, taking your hand again as he walked back into his bedroom, eventually getting into bed himself.

You sat down on the edge again, taking his hand into your own and moving two fingers up and down on his arm. “Are you going to make me sleep again?” His voice was soft and you would have thought it might indicate that he did not want to sleep yet, but his tired eyes, now struggling to stay open, spoke another story.

“If you want me to,” you answered, not forcing anything upon him. When the beast didn’t let go of his heart, making it race over and over, and he wasn’t able to calm down, then you did force him to sleep once or twice. But Nikolai seemed alright now, not in need of heartrending-induced sleeping.

“I do. But only after you’ve given me a kiss,” he demanded, sitting up a bit in bed again as he leant forward to you. A smile on his lips, he pursed his lips, expecting a kiss from you.

You were certainly not going to deny him that.

Leaning forward, your lips met again, the same intoxicating feeling making its way through your body. Your hands cupped his warm cheeks, smiling into the kiss as you fully enjoyed the goosebumps, the shivers, all the sensations this was giving you. Nikolai’s lips felt like heaven, there was no doubt about it.

When you pulled away again, his cheeks had turned a darker colour, but he let himself drop into the pillow with a satisfied smile.

“Goodnight, my favourite heartrender,” he whispered, smile on his lips as he closed his eyes.

You couldn’t hold back your own smile and the content feeling in your stomach become even more apparent.

“Goodnight, Nikolai.”

You sat there for another moment. You would always keep him safe.

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honeii-puff · 10 months ago

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“Life is dull when one runs out of people to terrorize,” Kaz responded, closing the door.

“So you were bored.”

“Isn’t that what I said?”

Just Kaz and Nikolai being Kaz and Nikolai

#Dirtyhands on the Sea #Not the fic title but ig thats our tag now #Nikolai Lantsov #Kaz Brekker #Sturmhond

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appleandsnow · 9 months ago

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By your side

Summary: the 5 times Nikolai was by your side and the one time he wasn't

Tags: hanahaki au, enemies to lovers, childhood friends to lovers.

WC: 1400 words.

(i)

You're old enough to understand him but not old enough to know him. That's the age at which you learn to hate Nikolai Lantsov.

He sits in your spot in the kitchen, looking for all the world as though he were heartbroken and tired.

It was your spot because it kept you away from the work and bustle while giving you a perfect view of your mother - her being one of the many cooks/pastry chefs in the palace.

It was something you liked to brag about when other kids tried to be mean - that your mum was a valued servant amongst royalty but you never told them that she'd sneak you the badly shaped pastries or any leftover filling. That would lead to theft or worse - accusations of treason.

You were a child. Not an idiot.

So when you walk in with marbles in your hand and see the boy for the first time, you understand that he's the kid that stays indoors.

He looked like the kind of weed that kept his clothes clean on purpose.

No wonder his mother trusted him with clothing like that!

So when you sit in a different corner, you've already grown to hate the prince and when your mum gives him a well made pastry and you none, you hate him even more.

Nikolai knows exactly what to make of you as you sit away and send him glares and he hates you for it.

You're old enough to understand the second prince of Ravka but not old enough to know him; that's the age at which you learn to hate him

(ii)

You take to calling him "the delicate darling" when your mum insists on fussing over the boy.

It's true that he never came back to the kitchens but it's also true that the isolated instance was enough for your mum to take to him and worry about him.

You never call him that to anyone but your mum as the joke of the name was in calling him 'delicate' and no member of royalty was ever to be spoken of in terms of frailty. It could lead to you being imprisoned but that doesn't stop you from committing treason in the privacy of your mum's company.

When she peers around the door in an empty room and rushes to your side, you know there's been talk.

There had been talk. Of Nikolai.

Everyone had just found out of why the second prince had been so othered his whole life.

He was a bastard child.

No one knew what to make of the news but no one was surprised either. In hindsight, it seemed something too obvious.

What else could justify the constant sobriety where Vasili was so blatant and spoilt?

You stop calling him "the delicate darling".

Your mum notices.

(iii)

The second prince of Ravka; Nikolai is beautiful.

You're his personal servant and know of his reclusive tendencies better than anyone could hope to.

You spend hours and days carrying and fetching inks, pens, books, papers, maps and any snacks within palace bounds but there are days where you can't grudge his highness.

Some days, he was too beautiful to be blamed.

You had easily imagined him as a painting held on the walls for the centuries to come but now you could imagine him as someone the young ones would gawk at. Because you'd gawked at him.

Just once and then you'd made sure to stomp on the urge but you had doen it -much to your humiliation.

His highness had decided to go horse riding, making his mother weep for joy and call him 'wise'.

Truly. A family of idiots.

You'd gotten his things and brought the horse to hime. With practice, he took the reins and got onto the dreadful thing and though there had been no talk, he'd made you still.

The Prince; Nikolai was beautiful.

The navy against his skin.

His dark eyes against his fair hair.

He might as well have been a sculpture!

He rushes away and you're left standing there with a knot in your sternum.

Nikolai? was beautiful?

Nikolai was beautiful.

You shove the knot away and keep it shoved away.

(iv)

He befriends you.

or, in earnest, he let you sit down while he spent hours poring overlooks in the library.

You don't lounge like he does but at least you're sitting down.

Thenhe let's you take blank papers, then from his tea tray and then from his pile of foreign candy.

You don't dare to talk to him. It was far beyond you to risk your job but Nikolai was either unaware or unbothered of his treatment towards you.

It's one of the many days with his reclusive tendencies when he asks you something.

"What is it like? To go out with people while doing your duties?"

"I don't understand"

He notices the lack of judgement. Searching your face, he elaborates "My mother insists I befriend other royals but I don't see the charm of it? Wouldn't I be chattering needlessly then? What difference does it make when I don't like them?".

Any opinion here would be treason. To a prince no less.

You keep quiet.

He sighs. "I understand. What is it that your friends do that you can't do at work? Besides being honest."

It's hard to keep your faces still.

Neither if you succeeds.

"Nicknames. We have nicknames while we go about our duties."

"Call me Kolya"

You can't tell if he means to ask you that as a servant or a confidant.

"At least now; in private. Please?"

You hope he doesn't insist after this, so you indulge him.

"Kolya"

He's beautiful when he smiles.

(v)

Kolya.

A single invented word.

Kolya.

Somethjng he hasn't been called before.

Kolya.

Somethkng melodic.

Kolya.

A gift from a friend.

Kolya.

Him.

He wants to lock the word and keep it with him.

Tie it to a locket, maybe.

Burn it into his inner arm.

Something, anything to keep it safe.

"Kolya"

You don't miss that he fights a smile.

"Yes?".

Ever the prince.

"Why flying?" You keep your voice hushed and words restrained. He doesn't

"Well, corny as it is - I value my freedom"

"Flying is.... freedom?"

How could a prince long for freedom?

"You understand. Don't you?"

And now, you do understand.

The whispered 'sobachka'.

The backhanded compliments.

The snobbery that seemed to keep him apart.

The insistence on his 'blood rights'.

Freedom.

You hadn't thought of this before. Hadn't thought of having an entire world and no one to split with.

"Isn't the sky lonely too?"

You face away and school your expressions.

Someone had rustled in.

(vi)

He runs away.

Kolya runs away and all you feel is pride.

He does it on the pretext of exploring the forest for a few days.

He packs his necessities. Gets on a horse. And he's gone.

You know because he's told you so and asked of your help and because he said he'd leave you something in the forest.

Its as dusk falls that you set out on his trail.

You know that he won't risk your job, so, you agree.

In a few days, soldiers would be sent our with lanterns with the hopes that the prince was lost and lying face first and drunk in the dirt.

It would be bittersweet to be the only one who knew.

Right now, you follow his trail deep into the woods and find your gift.

It was a pouch of the foreign candy you loved more than Nikolai did.

Holding the tattered pouch, made precisely to look as unlike royalty as possible, you feel something swell in your sternum and up your lungs.

You don't cry.

You cough up petals.

#nikolai lantsov #nikolai lantsov x reader #sturmhond #sturmhond x reader #hanahaki au #enemies to lovers #5 + 1 fic

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atac-agent · 4 months ago

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hey, y'all!! gimme some Kanej or Zoyalai fanfics to write!!

PS: (totally not down with fever and writing a zoyalai fanfic where nikolai is down with flu-)

Edit: It's Out!! (Stay With Me)

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wh0refornikolailantsov · 1 year ago

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hi bestie pls write Nikolai comforting you after having a nightmare thanks xox

You think you're so slick, babe.

No Rest For The Wicked - Nikolai Lantsov

Content Warnings: Nightmare Content. Reference To Trauma, Death, Loss And Fear. Not Beta/Proof Read.

Nikolai Taglist: @hauntedenthusiasttragedy

You're not dying, no that would be too easy.

Dying would almost be kinder, no you're not dying, you're watching everything else fall apart.

Nikolai's face should be a reassurance, Nikolai's voice in the dark would normally make you feel better. But right now, in this darkness, seeing his eyes is a new kind of pain. Knowing that he is only here, to be taken from you. Like everything is always taken from you. And you know there is nothing you can do to stop it.

You feel his grip on your arm, his blood on your hands, his skin turning cold, and his voice fading.

But you hear him saying your name, over and over, like a prayer, or a quiet wish.

You're not sure exactly when it stopped being a voice in your dream and when you started to wake to Nikolai sat beside your bed, hand gently placed on your arm, calling your name in the softest tone he can. His hair is still rustled and messy from sleep, and his eyes still not fully awake but so soft on you.

"You awake?" He whispers, his eyes roaming over you. "You're shaking."

"I dreamt about you," you say, the hitch in your breath more noticeable than you'd like in the quiet.

"Well love I would normally be flattered, but you don't seem to have had a good dream," he says. You laugh, it hurts your throat but you laugh anyway. You feel safer knowing he is here, you're glad here is here. You would've never gone to find him, but you're so glad he found you. He pulled you from your worst fears, he has a way of doing that.

"That's not your fault," you tell him. He clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth.

"Good, because if I had to fight a dream version of myself I am not entirely confident I would win, but I would never admit that," he cocks his head to the side, seeing the way your breath is still shuddering out of you. "I am sorry, can I do anything?"

"Tell me what's real," you say, gathering the energy to sit up.

"Well if you're getting all philosophical on me," he says.

"Kolya," you whisper a warning. He looks at you, softer again somehow. But now could he deny you, all shaken and half awake, his name in your mouth. He couldn't deny you anything.

"It's nearly morning," he says. "I heard you, you sounded scared and I came as fast as I could."

"Nikolai, always the hero," you say. "It's nearly morning?" He nods. "Just in time to watch the sunrise. Do you want to watch the sunrise?"

"I guess you could say I am, right now," he says, edges of his lips curling up. You give him a tiny shove.

"You cannot turn down an opportunity to flirt can you?"

"You wanted a reminder of what's real, what is more real than that?" He asks. You nod, agreeing with him. "The sun will be rising soon, I can get you my coat if you want to watch."

You nod, pulling your knees to your chest. "Yeah, I would like that."

"I'll get you that coat."

"I'll be waiting."

#shadow and bone #grishaverse #nikolai lantsov #sturmhond x reader #nikolai lantsov fanfic #nikolai lanstov x reader #nikolai x reader #nikolai x you #nikolai lantsov comfort #comfort fic

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frost-queen · 1 year ago

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Spinning wheel (Grisha!Reader x Nikolai Lantsov)

Requested by: anon Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @merlin-dahlia, @alex--awesome--22 @elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve, @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly@denkisclown, @wildieflower, @meyocoko, @bubblybrianna, @justanothercoco@subjecta13-thefangirl, @m-rae23, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr, @swampthing07, @melsunshine

Summary: You are a heartrender Grisha who knows Nikolai from when he remained in the little palace. There you shared a rather intense dance where you can't keep your eyes off each other. It leads to so many almost kisses, he pulls you away after the dance to satisfy that. When Nikolai arrives in the spinning wheel he is greeted by a familair face, whom he thought had died due to Kirigan or the fold.

Before his glance met up with yours, you already knew. By the beating of his heart that he was aiming for you. Amongst the crowd was Nikolai. Prince Nikolai. Chatting with a Grisha as his gaze wandered towards you. Stunned and speechless at the same time. You saw him say goodbye to the Grisha, making his way over. A few dancers were performing their last steps as he walked across by the side-line. He smiled relieved holding his hand up. – “Y/n.” – he breathed out.

You quirked up a smile, hearing how his heartbeat spiked up in your presence. You laid your hand in his, feeling the smoothness of his palm. Nikolai closed his hand over yours. He started to walk backwards, gently guiding you to the open floor. Others joined, looking curious as to who the prince had chosen to dance with. – “You will return shortly.” – you said as he came to a stop. – “Yes.” – he answered lowly.

It made him look pitiful downwards. You smiled, tilting his chin up by your finger. – “Ravka needs their prince.” - you told him as his eyes met up with yours. He smiled bowing his head to your hand. – “Yet Ravka has not earned you.” – you added making him frown. – “They do not deserve your heartful personage with all their cruelty in the world.” - Nikolai brought your entangled hand up, giving it a kiss.

The music started when Nikolai and you turned half, placing a hand against one another. You went round in a circle. Switching course at the end, going back around. Your hand from behind your back, you brought upwards to take his. Spinning round, your gaze remained on him. He was forced to step backwards when you pushed forwards. – “You are leading.” – he whispered with a smile. It made you smirk flirtatious back at him.

You circled around with him as he kept chuckling at you leading the dance. Your hands up high let go, moving slowly down. Palms still pressed together; you circled around each other. You heard his breath shiver when staring at your eyes. The beating of his heart overpowering the music. You could only hear him. Steady with a flicker of yearning. You hopped once, turning underneath his arm. Nikolai couldn’t take his eyes of you, and neither could you.

You faced him as his hands ventured down to your waist. You gasped breathlessly when you felt his grip tighten on your waist. He picked you up, feet off the ground as he turned. He set you down slowly, making sure you were as close as possible to him. When your feet found steady ground, he subconsciously leaned forwards. Eyes drawn to your lips.

Blinking rapidly you weren’t even sure what his heartbeat was and yours. It beat in one steady line at the same pace. You had never experienced anything like that with anyone. Your reaction made Nikolai frown briefly. Wondering if anything was wrong. You smoothened your expression, smiling back at him. You made clear to him what it resolved around, placing your hand briefly near your heart. Nikolai copied your behavior.

He took a hold of you, dipping you down. His nose touched yours, stating at how close he was. You moved back up, looking down at his lips. The eagerness of kissing him burning on your lips. He took a deep breath, slightly tilting his head to the side. Eyes slowly closing as he wanted to kiss you. The steady beating of his heart loud to you. You inhaled, ready to receive him when something subconsciously made you pull apart. Nikolai and you spun away, rejoining to take each other’s hand.

You and him moved forwards with some keen footwork, body’s half facing each other. He brought your hand up, letting you spin twice underneath it. You lowered your arm near his face as his hand slid down your skin. You moved it behind your back, turning around. You met up with him as Nikolai knelt down, staring lovingly at you. You curtsied with a smile. Touching his cheek, he got back up, holding your hand against his cheek.

Nikolai let go of your hand when applaud filled the room. It startled the two of you. Both of you clapped along to thank the musicians. Looking around you noticed how some were whispering while looking your way. It made you swallow nervously. Had it been so obvious the way you danced with the prince? Before you could ponder more, whisked Nikolai you away. Taking your hand as he pulled you off the dancefloor. Leading you through the crowd. – “The feast?” – you called out. Nikolai turned around, shushing you to keep quiet.

Feeling yourself fluster in his presence, you held your hand over your entangled hand with his. Not wanting to let go. Nikolai led you into the corridor away from the crowd. He didn’t stop till he was far out of reach. – “What are we…” – you started as he opened a door, pushing you inside. He shut the door while you admired your surroundings. It was a room you had never found yourself in.

Filled with books and a telescope. Before you could comment grabbed Nikolai you by the waist and neck. Pressing his lips onto yours. Back arched as he pulled you closer to him. Lips kissing yours desperately. His heart was pounding loud against his chest. It made you press your fingers into the fold of his shoulder to ease him down. He was working himself so up, you thought he might pass out from excitement. Nikolai felt his heartbeat slow down, making him pull briefly away to stare smiley back at you.

“I can’t have you have a heart attack over a kiss.” – you said teasingly. Nikolai laughed loud. – “Trust me it will take a lot for my heart to stop beating for you.” – he answered staring at your lips. You sucked in a breath, kissing him. The kiss was long and desperate. As if every second of it mattered. As if it was a first meeting and a last meeting at the same time. Thrilled to kiss for the first time yet saddened that it could be the last.

You exhaled loud, letting yourself fall back in the chair. – “Thank you Y/n.” – A Grisha said. You nodded too worn out to speak. The Grisha turned to the one laying down on a table. Wounded, yet still breathing thanks to you. The Grisha held his hands against the Grisha’s cheek on the table. Looking him in the eye. – “You are going to live… you are going to be alright.” – he said with hope.

The Grisha on the table, started crying. You got up, taking her hand. – “Thank you.” – you whispered with a lot of effort. You smiled down at her, feeling how tight she was squeezing your hand. Slowly letting go of her hand, you walked out, leaving her with some privacy. On your way out, you took a towel to clean the blood from your hands.

You then threw it aside. Massaging your shoulder, you untensed them. You moved a bit aside, closer to the wall seeing someone pass through. They were heavily wounded. Coming out of the corridor, you came to a crossing.

Wounded Grisha sitting or laying down to catch their breath. They had cuts and bruises. Some had lost a limb. All formed by the Darkling’s attacks. You yourself had been unlucky to encounter one of his attacks. Not as heavily damaged as many others but wounded and scarred. In your passing, you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. You stepped back, seeing yourself.

Coming closer with tears in your eyes. Your cheek bruised with red and blueness. Your fingers hovered over it shakily. Your gaze then went to your arms, knowing they had their scars. You had to look away or you’ll start crying your heart out. It was bad enough you still had nightmares. Walking away you came into the main entrance where everything connected. – “Y/n!” – a voice called out. You spotted a male Grisha calling you over. You saw he stood by another male Grisha panicking.

You ran over kneeling near him. – “He’s panicking. I can’t get him stable.” – the man told you. You looked down seeing how his leg was tied up with bandages. Taking a deep breath, you took a hold of the man. Listening to his heartbeat, you focused on slowing it down. Stop him from panicking. His breathing slowed down. You kept a close eye on him, lowering it to a normal rate.

From behind you, you heard some rumor. Loud new voices as their footsteps echoed in the spinning wheel. – “He should be alright now.” – you told the man. He nodded, thanking you. You got up, turning around as your eyes widened. – “Nikolai?” – you said loud and confused. Nikolai came to a stop, hearing his name, but unable to see from where it came. – “Nikolai!” – you called out louder, running over to him.

Nikolai gasped when he saw you. He sucked in a breath when you jumped into his arms. He wrapped his arms around you, spinning round with you. The people he was with, looking curious at him. He set you down, touching your cheek. – “You are real, you are here.” – he breathed out. You nodded placing your hand over his near your cheek. He noticed the bruises on your cheek, making him clench his jaw. – “Kirigan!” – he cursed out.

You grabbed his shoulder, untensing his muscles as you could tell he was getting worked up. – “It is alright Nikolai. I am alright.” – you reassured him. He exhaled deep, letting his forehead rest against yours. – “I thought you were dead. Taken by the fold or Kirigan…” – he confessed with sorrow. You shushed him again, grabbing him by the back of his neck, moving him closer. Lips almost touching. – “I am here.” – you whispered before kissing him.

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pleasurebuttonwrites · 2 years ago

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the privateer & me

Chapter 2 sturmhond x ofc | 2.1k | rating: teen Masterlist

Captain Sturmhond invites Saskia Zimová to a private dinner.

author's note: this is set prior to the events of shadow & bone. content: alcohol use

~~~

I worked in the galley all day, and my mood was especially sour. One would think that after a night like last night, I’d still be riding the high. But it was quite the contrary. I, in particular, didn’t want to be spending my time stuck in the hot and stuffy kitchen. I wanted to watch the passion of the sea, as it mirrored my own. I wanted to smile and laugh and dance and not be looked at as if I had gone mad. So being trapped as I was, and suppressing my joy, it turned into a bitter emotion.

I was not, however, the worst off in the galley. Most of the staff were working through their hangovers, fighting off nausea from the heat and the smells. We were slow working, yet quick to snap at each other. Overall, a real miserable bunch.

When I had the opportunity for a break, I fled as fast as I could. The relief of the fresh cool air washed over me and instantly improved my mood. I climbed to the upper deck and was greeted by the roar of the sea. The ship cut through the water at a great speed, the collision of water and wood created a mist that settled on my skin. I was surprised it didn’t instantly steam off.

Although my thoughts had been nagging me all day, I didn’t want to think. I just wanted a break. Instead I watched the water, and the horizon, and enjoyed the colors displayed before me. It never looked the same way twice. I didn’t love the sea, I would much rather be on steady ground, where things are much drier and you don’t have to work so hard to stand. But the views were definitely a perk, and almost made it worth it.

I had to return, there was no excuse I could come up with to allow me to delay for any longer. With reluctance, I pulled myself away, and instantly was brought up short, for Captain Sturmhond stood mere feet away looking at me.

“Captain,” I said and gave a small bow of my head in greeting.

“Miss Zimová,” he replied. “Enchanting, isn’t it?”

He gestured toward the sea.

I thought ‘enchanting’ was going a bit too far. But I didn’t tell him that. “It is quite beautiful,” I said instead, and his lips twitched in amusement.

We were silent for a moment, and I, anxious to return if only to avoid one of Cook’s lectures, said, “I should be getting back to the galley.”

I began to leave when he spoke again. “I,” he began and cleared his throat. “I was searching for you.”

My eyebrows lifted in surprise. “Oh?”

“Yes. I wanted to ask if you’d do me the honor of dining with me tonight.”

My brain went through several cycles of not believing what I was hearing, then understanding and back again like a square wheel limping along. He waited patiently while I sorted it out.

I couldn’t really speak so I just nodded. He gave me a warm, genuine smile. “Perfect. I’ll see you tonight, then.”

I returned to the galley in a daze. Somehow word had already traveled about my dinner arrangements for the evening and I was the object of many stares, some of wonder, some of resentment. But I barely registered them. All I could think about was how I returned just as warm as I had left.

—

I was dismissed early that night — I had been carving up the roast, feeling giddy and excited and incredulous. Night was falling and soon I’d be in the captain’s dining room, and it would just be us…alone. And just like that, all that giddiness and excitement deflated like a balloon. My heart was still hammering, but now it was in fear. Because I was so, so nervous. My palms became slick with sweat and I was losing my grip on the prongs and knife. No longer were my slices thin and uniform. I was, pardon the pun, butchering it. So Cook came over, yelled some words in a language I didn’t understand and shoo’d me out the door — giving me a full half-hour to wash up before my dinner with the captain.

It would have been great if I had a way of filling the time, but as it was, washing up and changing into the nicest, cleanest clothes I had — the same clothes I wore everyday — only took five minutes. I didn’t have anything else to do. I tried reading the book he let me borrow, but I read the first page five times without absorbing any of it. I shut it and gave up.

I tried to think about anything except the dinner looming before me. But when I wasn’t thinking about how it could all go wrong, I was thinking of ridiculous scenarios where he sweeps all the dishes and glassware from the table, pulls me into a passionate embrace, and lays me down on that table. I had to shake myself to remove the images. I finally found a peaceful middle ground — thinking about his soft, soft lips — when there was a knock on my door.

Oh shit, I thought. Am I late? I checked the clock which told me it was five ’til.

I opened the door to find one of the captain’s first mates. We both looked shocked to see each other, but he recovered first. “I’m here to escort you to dinner with the captain.”

“Right,” I said. Of course Captain Sturmhond would send me an escort. I joined - Rurik? I thought his name was Rurik - in the corridor and shut the door behind me. He gave me the “after you” signal and I led the way.

For the life of me I couldn’t think of anything to say to Rurik. And he didn’t attempt to break the silence. It made me wonder if he’d done this sort of thing before. Escorting other women — or men — for dinner with the captain. Did he think something was going to happen between us tonight? Was he thinking about us having sex? Oh my god, this is not helping.

We made it to the door, but it was only a small relief, because well, we were at the door now and Captain Sturmhond was there somewhere behind it, and I had been shit at making conversation on the way over here, how would I be any better over dinner? And now I was questioning what was supposed happen tonight anyway.

The door opened and I can say with all honesty that the captain took my breath away. He was, just, well he was gorgeous but he was more than that. His smile was so joyful and you could see in his eyes just how there he was, how present and in his body he was. And, of course, his lips. They looked softer in person than they had in my memory.

He cleared his throat and I realized I was staring. From the amused spark in his eye I could tell he noticed. I could feel my face heat up and I tried to look anywhere else.

“Thank you, Rurik,” he told my companion - I knew it was Rurik. Rurik gave a little nod and then hurried away. He didn’t look at me at all before he left. I guess it had been just as awkward for him.

I was still avoiding looking at the captain, but he was not saying anything. From the corner of my eye I could tell that he was simply looking at me. Oh this dinner is going to go well.

I really had no choice but to look at him again, and when I did, our eyes locked. The connection between us was intense and it made me feel dangerous and scared and thrilled and brave and vulnerable — too many things. My mouth was mysteriously watering and I swallowed.

“I’m so pleased you could join me,” he told me. “Please, come in.”

He stepped back to let me pass through the door and then he closed it behind me. He led me over to a small table set for two. He pulled the chair out for me and I sat down. His formality and the formality of his clothing and the formality of the table made me feel so out of place. I suddenly didn’t know what to do with my hands, and I was quickly sinking into a pit of self doubt. I realized I hadn’t said anything to him yet.

My mind was blank.

He didn’t seem bothered by the silence though. He sat down and asked if I’d like some wine. After I nodded, he poured some in a glass and handed it to me. Then poured himself a glass. We clinked glasses in silence and I took a sip, grateful to have something to do. I took a few more sips as the silence stretched on.

Captain Sturmhond seemed at ease, however, like he was just settling in to a comfortable evening.

“What part of the dinner did you prepare?” he asked me.

“Um,” I started to say and my voice cracked. I cleared it and continued. “I don’t do any of the cooking.”

He raised his eyebrows in interest.

“I mostly do prep work. I’m handy with a blade,” I explained.

“Yes, I know,” he told me. “That’s why I hired you.”

I stared at him a moment to see if he was serious. “You hired me?” I asked.

He nodded. “Of course.”

“Oh. I just didn’t think you’d be involved in hiring galley staff.”

“When they can wield a blade like you can, I do.”

Everyone on the ship had two jobs: one as crew on the ship, the other to act as the captain’s army should the need arise. I wasn’t typically on the front lines, but if a show of force was needed — it rarely came to actual violence, not with the captain’s vicious reputation — I could handle a blade.

I gave a small laugh in reply.

“Where did you learn such a skill?” he asked.

I was so very grateful that he, at least, had conversation skills. The dinner was wonderful and the conversation flowed smoothly. I was even able to bring up some topics myself. I think the wine was partially to thank, but mostly it was just the captain.

We were finishing the main course when he asked, “Have you begun that book I lent you?”

“I’ve read the first page,” I told him, and smiled over my little joke.

“Oh?” he asked, confused. But he continued the conversation. “And what did you think of it?”

I couldn’t help but laugh.

“What? What is it?” he pressed.

“I... oh my,” I said and put my head in my hands in embarrassment. “I haven’t really read the first page. It was a little joke.”

“Mind telling me the joke?”

“Um... I had some time tonight before meeting you, and I thought I’d crack it open, but I ended up just reading the first page over and over and I still have no idea what it said.” I bit my lip after this admission.

“Trouble concentrating?” he asked in an innocent tone, but his eyes gave him away.

“You could say that.”

It was late when we finished the bottle of wine. It was long after we had finished dessert. He walked me back to my bunk, and I could hear my bunkmates snoring behind the door. The entire ship was asleep.

“I had a really good time tonight,” I told him in a hushed tone. As soon as it was out of my mouth, it sounded lame, but it was the truth.

He leaned in closer to me to say, “I was hoping you would.”

He was close enough I could smell his soap and beneath that his particular smell. I could also see the texture of his skin, the slight sheen of sweat on his brow, his lips - stained dark with wine. He leaned in even closer and though I felt my entire body respond, I turned away before his lips could meet mine. He paused and I could feel his breath part my hair and tickle my ear. It was like we were both paralyzed for a moment. Neither of us able to move away. But then he collected himself and moved back. He gently took my hand and bent to place a kiss on my knuckles.

“Goodnight, Miss Zimová,” he said. He was down the corridor and around the corner before I could reply.

#sturmhond #nikolai lanstov #shadow & bone #sturmhond fic #nikolai lantsov fic #shadow & bone fic #shadow & bone spoilers

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rupturedhaven · 1 month ago

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"When We Collide" is getting not one, but TWO spin-offs as it nears its emotional conclusion!

The first, "Just Know That I'm Already Home", is a 10 chapter adventure following Alina and Mal's quest to find each other after they are separated in mysterious circumstances. How does their separation connect to the upcoming trial of Aleksander Morozova, a.k.a. The Darkling?

The second (title TBD) will follow the fight for Os Alta's future after the events of the trial. Nikolai is taunted by nightmares of a demon, while Zoya decides to take her life in a bold new direction. They'll both be appearing in "When We Collide" again to set up their epic tale, so stay tuned for updates and further details!

(As you can see, graphic design is my passion lol just roll with it)

Read "When We Collide" here: When We Collide - Chapter 1 - RupturedHaven - Shadow and Bone (TV) [Archive of Our Own]

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barrel-crow-n · 9 months ago

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harde har har do you have any hc tidbits for our fic?

Kaz fabricates a persona for his time on the Volkvolny. He still goes by Kaz but he drinks and play fights with the crew. He's kinder than Ketterdam Kaz. Nikolai does a complete double take.

The crew are kind of scared of Kaz because of his scrappy and cruel fighting techniques

Kaz kind of unnerves Nikolai but Nikolai doesn't let it show

Kaz wins all the drinking games because he has a scarily high drinking tolerance

Tamar teaches him how to fight with swords and axes and stuff

Tamar teaches Kaz how to spin and twirl his weapons

Kaz and Tolya recite poetry to each other (the crew groans)

Kaz insists that the hates the dog that is a part of the crew but one time Nikolai saw him napping with it

Nikolai loves to annoy Kaz and Kaz just walks away from him

Nikolai and Kaz scheme away in Nikolai's captain's headquarters

Kaz gets told about all of Sturmhond's ruthless acts and loves it then is disappointed when he finds out that Nikolai always throws up after doing them and doesn't plan to recreate anything

Kaz also does ruthless things on the sea that scares the crew into respecting him a lot more but he doesn't throw up after doing them, and is completely unaffected

Kaz does magic tricks for the crew

#i completely forgot about this ask #and then was compiling #so sorry #dirtyhands on the sea #cant wait to publish this fic #kaz brekker #nikolai lantsov #sturmhond #six of crows #grishaverse #king of scars duology #six of crows duology #soc fanfic

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yibeimolihuacha · 11 months ago

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My problem is when I fall in love with a fictional character I can ship them with everyone, because if I fell in love with them then certainly so can everyone else, right?

Right?

#shadow and bone #zoya nazyalensky #zoyalina #zoya x the darkling #zoya x mal #zoya x harshaw #zoya x genya #zoya x dominik #but like in the past when he was a soldier and she didn't know nikolai and nikolai didn't know her and nothing physical actually happened #can somebody maybe just write a short fic about them #zoya x sturmhond #zoyalai #but yes zoyalai is supreme #go sign the petition so we can see them on screen

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sapphicsaints · 2 years ago

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What about a soulmate au with Tamar and reader?

this is inconvenient

Tamar Kir-Bataar x f!Reader

A/N: I had so much fun writing thank you for the idea! I might end up adding more to it :)

Word count: ~2.7k

Warnings: mentions of human trafficking, descriptions of violence

Summary: Tamar meets her soulmate in less-than-desirable circumstances.

-Y/n POV-

We both felt the tug at the same time, one glance into her eyes and she knew what it was.

“For fucks sake.” She said, staring at me. Her knife on my throat. I fought the urge to laugh as the cool metal of her blade pressed into my skin. I’m lucky the tug came quickly enough for her to hesitate.

“This is inconvenient.” I sighed, trying to push back and put space between us. Her grip on the back of my head, her fist in my hair, tightened. I felt an uncomfortable itching sensation on my forearm. There’s the tattoo.

“What’s your name?” She asked

“Does it matter?” I answered. Soulmate or not - the look in her eyes tells me she would still kill me. I carefully move my hands in front of me, yanking up one sleeve to try and show my indenture tattoo, to prove i’m not a slaver, that i’m not here my choice.

She shoved me down, my back hitting the crate. I wince at the impact but i’m unarmed, caught off guard. Her fist comes up, clenching. I try to roll away but felt my heart rate drop rapidly . ‘A fucking heart render.’ is the last thought drifting through my head before I fall unconscious.

-Tamar POV-

“Why’s that one alive?” Sturmhond asks, pointing towards the girl sleeping near the crate, her body bent in what must be an uncomfortable position. I turn my arm, yanking my sleeve up to show the words etched in black.

“This is inconvenient.” Sturmhond read the them before breaking out into laughter. He continues laughing for a solid minute while I scowl at him. Finally, he takes a few deep breaths and calms himself. “Do you need me to kill her for you?” His tone is light, but I can see the certainty in his eyes - if I say yes he would kill her.

Tamar shook her head. “She’s an indenture.” she says, having spotted the tattoo on the other her wrist, she couldn’t tell where exactly to but the marking makes it obvious.

“Grisha?” He asked.

“I don’t know. It’s likely, considering it’s a Kerch ship.” Kerch Slavers love to indenture Grisha they find, especially Squallers and Tidemakers. That’s one circumstance they don’t particularly care about gender.

“If she is, we can offer sanctuary, a place here. Get rid of the tattoo.” Sturmhond’s always been generous to indentures they find - giving them a way out, oftentimes the Grisha working on board are former indentures.

“If she’s not?” I asked sharply.

He turns to look at me, carefully. “Still get rid of the tattoo if she wants. We can drop her off at the next port.” He saw my eyes narrow. “Or offer a space here, your call.” He holds his hands up.

“To think, I almost killed her.” I murmur.

“Not the best first meeting, especially considering you’ll have those words etched on you for the rest of your life.” No amount of tailoring can get rid of a soulmate tattoo. About ⅓ of the population actually ends up finding their soulmates - if official reports are listened to. It doesn’t necessarily mean it will make a good match. The core, the Saint given, parts of the person are said to match, but culture and upbringing can change someone.

-Y/n POV-

The door to my glorified cell opens. I’d tried to get out, but it was locked from the outside, and there was absolutely nothing to pick the lock with - all of my weapons, hair pins, everything had been stripped from my body. My soulmate enters with someone else, a giant man who looks like her. Siblings - or cousins maybe.

I eye both of them cautiously. My hands are bound, far enough apart they suspect I might be Grisha. They’re right about that. They’re wrong in assuming I can’t summon like this, but I bide my time. I could summon, but I doubt it will win me any favors.

I stay in my seat, although I am tempted to throw the chair at them. They close the door behind them, the giant takes up position in the corner, the woman - my soulmate apparently, leans against the door. She doesn’t say anything, just gazes at me for a few minutes. I refuse to break the silence.

“Are you an indenture?” She finally asks.

“You mean glorified slave?” I laugh. “Yes, I am."

“Everyone thinks you’re dead now.” The man answers from the corner. “You’re essentially free.”

“Are the rest of them dead?” I ask.

“Yes.” She answers without hesitation.

“Good.” I say quietly. The only show of surprise is the slight raising of her eyebrows.

“Are you Grisha?” He asks me.

Against my better judgment, I clench my fists, swirling my hands to direct a gust of wind at his face. His arms come up to shield, and he ducks. I felt another hand wrench my head back, and the cool metal of a blade against my throat. One well placed knick and my windpipe would be sliced wide open - or I'd bleed out in seconds. I’m surprised she’s going for the weapon instead of just knocking me unconcsious like earlier.

“If this is how you treat your soulmate, I'd hate to see how you treat your enemies.” I laugh.

“Who says you’re not both?” She snaps at me.

“The only enemy I have is the one who put me on the other ship.” I say quietly. A moment later my hair is released and I breathe out a sigh of relief. The knife leaves my throat, and her hands unlock the modified shackles. Apparently that was enough to convince her, but again heart-renders can tell when someone is lying. I shake my wrists out, trying to rub away the red marks.

–Tamar POV-

I stand at the stern, arms propped up on the railing, gazing out at the horizon as Nikolai joins me.

“I know she’s your soulmate.” He says, “but she’s a pain in the ass. And unfortunately one of the most powerful squallers I've met.”

“You like her.” I say, almost accusingly.

“She’s amusing.” He replies. “And taking quickly to the airboats. Have you spoken to her?” He turns to face me.

“Neither of us have tried.” I scratch the back of my neck.

“This is uncharted territory for both of you, but this is your ship.” He comments. It’s not an accusation, and I know that, but it feels like one.

“You have a point.” I admit reluctantly

His voice lowers, “not many people get to find theirs. Especially people living like us.”

We stand in silence for a few more moments before I head off to go start my watch.

“I’ll think about it.” I say over my shoulder. I see his smirk, he knows he’s won. I’m impressed with how quickly she’s integrated herself with the crew and other Grisha. She’s charming, funny, and fiery. Three traits that are serving her well on board. I shake my head, trying to put thoughts of her out of my mind. I grow more distracted by her each day. I didn’t pay much attention to the watch list today - to who would be my partner. I’m surprised to see who meets me up at the tower. I have a feeling it was done on purpose.

-Y/n POV-

Watch with Tamar, and my first one. I haven’t specifically avoided her, just not started any conversations or stuck around long in her presence. Maybe I am avoiding her, maybe that makes me a coward. But it’s not my space, not my arena, it’s her move. I’m stubborn and patient enough to wait.

“Kruge for your thoughts?” I hear a voice. I was lost in thought, waiting for her to join. My head snaps around to see her. She’s beautiful,dark cropped hair, golden tilted eyes, bronze skin. My cheeks pink slightly - I can tell she notices by the slight smirk on her face. I’m tempted to throw something at her, just to smack it off.

“It’s strange being here.” I finally reply.

“How different is it?” She asks. I was indentured to some Kerch slavers previously, before Sturmhond’s crew attacked the ship. I know my life was only spared because of the soulmate bond, and I'm grateful for it.

“I haven’t felt the urge to sink the entire ship.” I laughed. “Or murder anyone.”

“Is that your way of saying you like it here?” Her lips turn up at the corners. ‘Stop staring at them.’ I tell myself, but my gaze hangs a second too long.

“It’s a strong possibility.” I admit, turning my head back out to sea, to keep an eye out for anything. “Tell me about you.” I say. It came out as more of a question than I would’ve liked, but she obliges.

“My mother was a Ravkan Grisha, my father a Shu Mercenary. Before she died she made him promise to take us to Novyi Zem instead of being drafted by the Second Army. The day after she died we set off.”

“How’d you get to sea?”

“Sturmhond found us after our father died, and offered us a chance out here. We were mercenaries before that. Still are technically.” I appreciate how open she is with me.

“We being you and Tolya?”

“Yes.” Her fingers tap on the railing. “What about you?” Her head doesn’t turn, keeping an eye out on the Sea, but I catch her watching me through her peripherals.

I hesitate. There’s a lot, but also almost nothing, to my story. “I fled the Wandering Isle, to Kerch, or tried to. The sailors I thought were rescuing me ended up getting me into that mess. Better than having my blood drained.” I laugh, laughing is the only way I can talk about it without crying - the memories are still fresh.

She didn’t laugh, or smile. “I can remove it.” She said, instead.

“Remove what?”

“The tattoo.”

My eyes widen. It isn’t the same as getting rid of an indenture completely, but if everyone thinks I’m dead - and the tattoo is gone. That might as well be my freedom. I don’t know what to say, what words to put into it. It probably seems so simple to her, but it means the world to me. She waits patiently for my answer, thankfully not pushing me.

“Please.” Is all I can force out, my voice chokes up a little and I swallow hard, one hand tapping the railing, the other wiping away the small tears in my corner.

“Once our watch is up.” She spares me a quick glance. I look back, only to be scolded.

“Eyes out.” She says, and I roll my eyes. We make easy chatter the rest of the time. Talking to her feels natural, feels like I can trust her almost immediately. It makes sense - given the soulmate bond, but maybe we’d still be able to talk like this under different circumstances, I hope so.

At the end of our watch she asks the question I’ve dreaded. “Did you ever try and save any of them?” Her tone is neutral. I feel the familiar ache in my chest, the tightness that comes with the memories of the people enslaved to be sold, their faces cross through my mind - one after the other. I’ll never forget them.

“Once.” I say, and turn around so my back faces her. I lift the back of my top, exposing a small sliver of skin - enough that she can see the scarring. It took weeks to heal after - even with Grisha healing abilities, a wicked lash can do a lot of damage. I hear her breath catch. “It was worth it.” I turn back around, “they got away.”

“I’m surprised they didn’t kill you.”

“I’m more valuable alive.” I say with a smirk. “I’d only been with them two months before you caught them.” I admit. “How long have you been with Sturmhond?” I change the subject.

“A year and a half.”

“Is he good to you?” I ask quietly.

“We chose him for a reason. He treats us well, and gives us freedom, he offers you a spot. Will you take it?”

“I like flying those little boats.” I pause for a few seconds, tilting my head to the side to gave over the rest of the deck below us. “I will.” The determination sets in my voice, in my tone. I’ve already admitted that to myself - that i’d take the spot - regardless. I’ve held desperately onto hope that it would be offered, working my ass off to learn as much as I can. Even if my mouth has gotten me a few warning glances.

Tamar grins, her grins are contagious and come easy, I hope it stays that way. “I’m glad.” My cheeks flush and I turn away from her, eyes gazing back out to the sea.

“How old are you?” I change the subject - again.

“21. You?”

“19.” Thankfully we’re relatively close in age - Grisha can look deceptively young.

After our watch finishes, Tamar leads me back down to her small cabin. She motions for me to take a seat on her hammock, and I sit down carefully, trying not to rock it too much. She crouches in front of me and my breath catches as she holds my wrist, flipping it over so the tattoo is visible. Her touch is light - and I don’t mind the itch, my eyes are transfixed on her as she works but she doesn’t seem uncomfortable under my gaze, in fact her cheeks flush red. I catch a glimpse of the tattoo on her forearm and laugh.

Her eyes flick up to meet mine. “What’s so funny?”

“You’ll be stuck with those words forever.” I shrug.

“So will you.”

“I don’t know which is worse.” I admit.

“All done.” She says, releasing my wrist. I look down, the tattoo is completely gone, no evidence of the past left on it. I run my fingers over it in awe, It’s unblemished, perfectly back to how it was before. I don’t notice Tamar moving until the hammock rocks slightly and her knee presses into mine, my head snaps to the side, she’s sat down next to me, staring at the tattoo on my arm. ‘For fucks sake.’

“I feel like I should apologize for that.” She chuckles.

“Don’t. I’ll enjoy telling the story of how we met.” I bite my lip as I realize my mistake, holding my breath. It sounds like I'm assuming we’ll be together - assuming she’ll accept it. My heart starts beating rapidly, even if she wasn’t a heart render I'm certain she’d be able to hear it. Her hand grabs my wrist, her thumb gently circling my palm. I feel my heart rate come back down to normal. She moves her hand back as quickly as she grabbed it, like she’s unsure if she crossed a line.

“Thank you.” I mumble under my breath, keeping my eyes trained on the floor in front of me.

“I’ll enjoy telling it too.” I turn to face her, the smile on her face is sincere. I’m still biting harshly on my lip when her thumb comes up to my face, tugging it slightly to release it from the hold. Her hand drifts to cup the side of my face, and I lean into her touch, closing my eyes as her thumb traces back and forth over my cheek bone. A knock on the door sounds and my eyes open reluctantly. Tolya’s voice drifts through the door.

“Time for rations.” He grunts, and I hear his footsteps walk away.

“He did that on purpose.” Tamar mutters, but stands up and offers me a hand. I laugh taking her hand, standing and tugging her towards me. I let my hand come up to cup her cheek, and lean up to press a gentle and quick kiss on her lips. I dart around her, slipping out the door before she can react. I hear her curse under her breath and by the time she’s out the door I'm halfway up the ladder. I turn over my shoulder to wink, and she rolls her eyes. “Later.” She mouths, and I bite my lip again, climbing up as quickly as I can before I give into the urge to shove her back in her room. Rations are essential after all.

#tamar kir bataar x reader #tamar x reader #tamar kir bataar x y/n #tamar x y/n #shadow and bone fic #shadow and bone imagine #tamar kir bataar imagine #grishaverse #tamar kir bataar #sturmhond #nikolai lantsov #volkvolny #shadow and bone #grishaverse imagine #grishaverse fanfic

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