#pritvolny

[fenixburned]

@pritvolny sent : [ CARRIED ] sender notices receiver is starting to get sleepy so they pick them up to carry them to bed. YOU KNOW WHO | SOFT ACTION PROMPTS

Dominik isn't sure why he's feeling so tired tonight. Perhaps it's just exhaustion, perhaps the cut on his arm from their last encounter with Fjerdans is more nasty than anticipated. But as they all sit cramped together on the floor and play cards, he can feel his eyes getting more heavy with every round. He does make a valiant effort to stay awake, until he leans just a bit more against Nikolai next to him and the comfort and safety radiating from the other body lulls Dominik in.

The next thing he registers are familiar arms holding him, the slow movements of Nikolai probably making his way to the captain's cabin with him. "Don't you have a reputation to uphold, Captain?", he mumbles with a small grin, eyes still closed. "I'd hate to ruin that for you." But it's only teasing, hardly true worry. While few know about the long past between Sturmhond and Andrei Sokolov, they hadn't even attempted to hide their relationship itself. Those times are over now.

[roseguided]

@pritvolny LIKED for a starter ! ft sansa stark

𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐍 𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐄𝐃 , sansa crowned before all of the major lords of the north , there was much to do. things to move around , grain & resources to distribute as the real winter finally sets in. the dead are defeated & cersei lies dead underground somewhere under rubble & stone. something about her death , the memories of how awful her son was & the way that she was used for their political gain , fills sansa with a strange sense of satisfaction. another one of her abusers is dead yet she remains planted on her two feet , the queen of her own kingdom. far surpassing any expectations that they would’ve had for her—feet crunch against the snow underfoot , cold breeze turning cheeks even more red than they had been inside. ; the fur around her neck tickles the skin of her neck, advisor spouting off how much should be given to the people in the villages & the passing mention of a lord coming to seek an audience. his name was . . nikolai , if sansa remembers correctly ! stepping into the main courtyard of winterfell , feet stop suddenly & head turns when blue eyes settle on the figure of someone unknown. then , she remembers: ❛ lord nikolai , how surprising to see you here so soon. ❜ gloved hands clasp at her front , a step forward. ❛ was your audience an urgent request , then ? ❜

[violentlydone]

he does not recognise this foreign sound inside his heart,   the relentless drumming like the announcement of war,   like the arrival of something new.    it isn't an extravagant noise that drew attention to itself,   but it is hush of when winter gave way to spring,   the silent rustling of leaves and the blooming of flowers that occurs inside his chest.    this is the first time,   he realises,   that he's been still.    his limbs are soothed in the blanket of her warmth,   not the external kind that she summons upon command;   it is what she exudes naturally,   like water rolling downhill,   like the sun dawning over the horizon each new day.    he cringes at the mention of his title,   masks it with a smile.    ❛   I have looked at you twice in just the past minute,  alina.   it's hard not to.   you cannot be sure of that.   ❜     nikolai replies with the easy charm of a prince that has been conjured out of storybooks and folklore—    an imagination that had been his solitary companion in childhood.

❛   much more likeable?   ❜    @pritvolny repeats,   a teasing grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.    ❛   that implies there is some existing fondness already.   ❜     more often than not,   the thought has crossed the prince's mind,   how different a life it would have been if he'd grown up in an orphanage.    it couldn't have been much different from the childhood he'd had,   spent between murmurs and rumours and stolen clocks to wrangle apart.   though he knows better than to voice it exactly as this:    that he would have found a friend in her,   that he would have been happier for it.     

❛   you wouldn't have enjoyed the lessons much.   ❜   nikolai's head cants back as though reminiscing a memory spent five decades ago,   when it only had been one.     ❛   my tutor liked to pick on scrawny kids.   but you can throw a good punch,  that too,  I know.   ❜     hazel eyes glint with mischief,   and he leans into the soft touch of her hand.   this comfort was a new,  funny thing.   it lulled him into sleep,   to rest his bones and made him aware of the ache in his muscles.     ❛   have your hands always been this warm?   ❜

how to explain? the girl facing him did not exist before light started erupting from her palms. the little girl she remembers was ill with shadows, choking on relentless colds, always desperate to rub some warmth back into her skin. "i was not special back then", she finally answers, a confession that lacks any specific tone : it is almost too void of any sentiment on the matter. she simply states the truth as she sees it. even mal, who hates her nature in ways she finds both familiar and foreign, only started looking at her after the light of her being was switched on.

"or it implies that i would have found you less irksome. infuriating. vexatious, maybe?" her answering grin is just as bright, because it is an easy ground to stand on. one they are quite accostumated to, now. it reminds her of the volkvolny, the way it moved with the sea, how the persistent tumult became familiar enough to lull her to sleep. it is actually upon realizing that sturmhond and nikolai lantsov were the same person that she imagined for the first time what it would have been like to grow up grisha. she would have had friends like zoya and genya. she would have been propulsed to the top and she would never have felt as if she was lacking in any way, because light would have been there from the very beginning. perhaps in that universe, nikolai would have liked her … perhaps she could have escaped the walls of the little palace to live on the sea with him, bringing the sun on all of his trips. however, that is a pipe dream, and if she lets herself truly imagine it, she knows it to be a thinly-veiled nightmare as well. she would have become the darkling's puppet, and nikolai would never have seen her as anything but another threat to his beloved country.

"you're not getting it, are you?" it's a murmur stolen from her throat as she presses her hand against his cheek. if she were the little girl she now holds in her memory, she would have felt the burning of tears behind her eyelids as she closes them for a moment. but when they open, they are dry, and only her voice seems to carry any kind of emotion. "this", she frowns slightly, her eyes on her hand, on his face, back to his eyes, "is new. i was always cold. i was always sick. i wanted to be something, anything." this is worse than a confession. this is opening her chest with her bare hands and begging him to find beauty in the mess. she does not know why she feels like she can trust him with the past ; not when she often berrates mal from talking of a time that is long gone. "you wouldn't have looked at me twice because i was barely there." then, like she is admitting it to herself, "becoming the sun summoner made me exist."

she almost lets her hand fall back to her side, but for some unexplainable reason, she keeps it against his skin, as if afraid to ruin the moment & feel it disappear forever. it is new and exhilirating … not many things are, lately. not good things, anyway. "although i can safely say i would have had a crush on you", she smiles softly, as if hiding something, only to burst out with a badly-restrained grin, "unless you were a terribly ugly kid."

[khronoes]

@pritvolny               FEAT.   NIKOLAI   LANTSOV

the grand palace was as alive as ever that morning.    staff clad in servant’s white teemed through the hallways and ran up the stairs in a flurry of movement.    a bell rang in the distance and genya knew there were barely enough hours in the day to execute what she had planned.    despite the storm of activity that lashed around her,   she walked with a brisk steadiness as her head whipped to and fro.    ❝    not there !   the snowberry is meant to wrap   around   the railings,   not lay on top of it !   ❞   the harsh edge of her voice was uncharacteristic for the otherwise collected tailor but the palace workers knew well to abid silently when genya was in one of her rare foul moods.   with a shaky inhale,   she shrugged off the brief outburst and gently patted her cheeks as if the frown lines would permanently etch into her malleable skin.    the redhead marched forward with firm intent until she came to a stop in front of the imposing double doors.    for a moment,   she stared up at the intricate carvings,   fingers coming up to dance across the work in awe.   despite her years growing up in the royal residence,   the subtle grandeur of the palace never failed to take her breathe away.    the calm admiration lasted for a minute at most before she pressed her palms against the brass handles and roughly swung the doors open.    ❝   nikolai lantsov,    it is near noon and you are still aslee —  ❞    she froze in her spot and her jaw clenched.    may the saints give her patience, because genya was sure she’d pop a blood vessel.    ❝   what have you done ?!   ❞

[razshaya]

@pritvolny CONT .

the night had grown long and with it the servant girl had grown tireless.     the grand palace hummed in it’s slumber as she slipped through the crack of her bedroom door and padded noiselessly across the spotless marble floors.    genya was no stranger to sleepless nights.    most nights she lay awake in her bed,   eyes trained to catch the hurried rattle of her doorknob.    only then would she shut her eyes tight and pray to the saints the moment would pass quick.   some nights felt like they would never end.    but things had changed since the king had begun to fall ill.    she’d been dealt a newfound freedom and habitual insomnia to go with it.    it was no surprise that her rumbling stomach had led her to the heart of the palace,   the kitchen.

the surprise came when she was presented with unexpected company.    fatigue clouded her judgment and she had dropped her usual,   practiced formalities as if the prince and her were nothing but childhood friends bickering in hushed tones while the adults slept.    she stiffly bowed her head when he echoed her question with his own interrogation.    genya opened her mouth to offer an apology and excuse herself but the words caught in her throat and came out as a chortle of amusement instead.     ❝    is that really what you think i sound like,   moi tsarevich ?    ❞    she taunted him with emphasis on the title.    the apple landed in the crook of her palm and she raised an eyebrow at him.    ❝   if you’ll excuse my honesty,   it’s a rather poor barter considering the trade i have in store.    ❞

she dug into the pockets of her simple linen dress and extracted a cookie covered in powdered sugar.    genya held it out to nikolai while shining the apple on her skirt with her other hand.    ❝   is hunger too simple of an explanation ?    ❞    she rested her weight against the sink behind her,   golden eyes sizing him up.    her teeth sank into the flesh of the apple and she did her best to chew slowly despite her ravenous state.    ❝   and yourself ?    i can’t imagine lack of food is what brings you here, what with the feasts the queen has ordered upon your arrival.   ❞ 

[philomelia]

the violence of ketterdamn is usually quieter.     she hears whispers about it:   the gangs holding knives to each other’s necks in crowded bars,   stolen money pass underhand beneath broken bar tables,   the tyranny of the stadwatch breaking their weapons over bent backs.     if she is good,   it will leave her alone   (she has been good--    there is still a boy in front of her with honey - stained lips and a lie where his mouth should be...    behind him lives violence,  punctuated by the pistol in his hand).    she ducks behind the pillar with him,   her heart beating in her neck.     “   you assume i’d give a compliment.    perhaps you should focus on aiming straight,   rather than having your ego stroked.   ”     a bullet hits the pillar and some of it crumbles to the ground,  forcing her to wince.   for all her talk,   she has no pistol to hand.   even if she did,   she wouldn’t know how to shoot it--     if the pirate takes a bullet to the head,   she knows already that she is doomed.      “   i think i was a murderer in the past life.   i think that’s perhaps why i’m in this situation.    ”     her hand reaches out,   pressing against his shoulder to drag him down with her as another bullet whizzes past @pritvolny​.      “   please tell me you have a plan.   ”

[fenixburnedmoved]

@pritvolny continued from here

How fortunate it was that over the years Dominik has struck up so many friendships with members of the palace staff. Now after his banishment he at least managed to get notes to the prince through them and he was eternally grateful for that help. They were playing a dangerous game, Dominik knew that all too well. But how could he keep his distance, when he missed Nikolai with every fibre of his being? When those stolen moments together were the only silver linings in the bleak reality of his life?

They stars in the sky were already forgotten, while every touch set Dominik ablaze. If only they could stay like this forever, in their own hidden corner and the rest of the world far away. Would that make him feel content? "Perhaps then we both are", he whispers, hands hungrily moving from hair to skin, longing to keep his lover and friend close for as long as possible. A laugh bubbles up in him, accompanied by daring words born from the euphoria of the moment. "And if this is how much you need me, I am afraid that you will have to come visit again."

[pritvolny]

#PRITVOLNY.    independent,  private   &   highly selective rp blog for  nikolai lantsov  as featured in the  grishaverse novels by leigh bardugo.    portrayal is entirely  book-based  with heavy influences from headcanons.    sporadic activity.   using beta (primarily) + legacy.

𝖧𝖤 𝖶𝖠𝖲 𝖠 𝖪𝖨𝖭𝖦 𝖶𝖧𝖮 𝖧𝖠𝖣 𝖮𝖭𝖫𝖸 𝖡𝖤𝖦𝖴𝖭 𝖳𝖮 𝖬𝖠𝖪𝖤 𝖬𝖨𝖲𝖳𝖠𝖪𝖤𝖲.   𝖧𝖤 𝖶𝖠𝖲 𝖠 𝖲𝖮𝖫𝖣𝖨𝖤𝖱 𝖥𝖮𝖱 𝖶𝖧𝖮𝖬 𝖳𝖧𝖤 𝖶𝖠𝖱 𝖶𝖮𝖴𝖫𝖣 𝖭𝖤𝖵𝖤𝖱 𝖡𝖤 𝖮𝖵𝖤𝖱.   𝖧𝖤 𝖶𝖠𝖲 𝖠 𝖡𝖠𝖲𝖳𝖠𝖱𝖣 𝖫𝖤𝖥𝖳 𝖠𝖫𝖮𝖭𝖤 𝖨𝖭 𝖳𝖧𝖤 𝖶𝖮𝖮𝖣𝖲.    𝖠𝖭𝖣 𝖧𝖤 𝖶𝖠𝖲 𝖭𝖮𝖳 𝖠𝖥𝖱𝖠𝖨𝖣 𝖳𝖮 𝖣𝖨𝖤 𝖳𝖧𝖨𝖲 𝖣𝖠𝖸.

exploring the themes of:     restitution of a war-torn nation,   charm as a weapon,   confidence as a guise,   relentless optimism,   deconstruction and reconstruction of identities   &  being insufferable as a sport.

 CARRD.     ♢     MEMES.     ♢     PINTEREST.     ♢    MULTIMUSE. 

[amortales]

#AMORTALES.   an independent, highly private and selective multimuse rp blog for a variety of characters as featured in different forms of media.   extremely sporadic activity.   using beta editor.  「 low-key, low-effort. 」

carrd. memes.  pinterest.  info here:

01. if you’re below the age of eighteen, i’d prefer if you didn’t follow due to the themes that feature on this blog. i am also less likely to follow anyone who doesn’t have a rules page, a sample of their writing, and their age mentioned somewhere on the blog.

02. racism, sexism, ableism, homophobia, transphobia, islamophobia or xenophobia will not be tolerated here. if you participate in any of the aforementioned behaviours, i will hard-block you.

03. this blog is highly selective, mutually exclusive, sporadic activity with a preference for plotted interactions. this is in no means to assert superiority, but only for my own comfort.

04. do not god-mod. this is pretty self-explanatory.

05. this is not a trigger-free blog. dark themes such as violence, murder, blood, etc. may not always be tagged. but i will try my best to tag common triggers in the ’[trigger] tw’ format. if you’d like something tagged specifically, please shoot me an ask or a message!

06. this is a multi-ship blog. chemistry and plotting is a must for shipping. that being said, there is no auto-shipping on this blog.

07. may be less likely to follow/follow-back if I see you interact with many portrayals of one particular character ( multis may be an exception. ) this is in no way personal, it’s simply because I don’t like the insinuation of being collected.

08. i am of age, but there will be no explicit nsfw content on this blog. if our interactions escalate that way, all i can offer is fade-to-black.

09. don’t be a shitbag! thank you for giving this a read. ❣️

MUSE LIST:

• INEJ GHAFA.  from six of crows by leigh bardugo. entirely book based + headcanon influences.  ( fc: amita suman. )  previously ghafaith. • NIKOLAI LANTSOV.  from king of scars duology by leigh bardugo.  entirely book based + headcanon influences.  ( fc: leo suter. )  previously pritvolny / synravki. • THE NUTCRACKER PRINCE.  from the language of thorns by leigh bardugo.  brief intro here.  headcanon-based.  ( fc: corey mylchreest. ) • LORETTA ‘LORI’ CONWAY.  original creation based in contemporary modern verses.  brief intro here.  ( fc: daisy edgar jones. ) • LINNEA OPJER.  semi-original creation. mentioned in grishaverse by leigh bardugo.  brief intro here.  ( fc: anya taylor joy. ) • RICHARD 'GANSEY' III.   from the raven cycle novels by maggie stiefvater. ( fc: tbd. ) • RONAN LYNCH.  voice testing. from the raven cycle novels by maggie stiefvater. ( fc: tbd. ) • ADAM PARRISH.  voice testing. from the raven cycle novels by maggie stiefvater. ( fc: tbd. )

[wrongsung-a]

#WRONGSUNG.   an independent, highly private and selective multimuse rp blog for a variety of characters as featured in different forms of media.   extremely sporadic activity.   using beta editor. 「 sideblog to regisraven. 」 low-key, low-effort.

memes. pinterest. temp rules + muselist below the cut:

01. if you're below the age of eighteen, i'd prefer if you didn't follow due to the themes that feature on this blog. i am also less likely to follow anyone who doesn't have a rules page, a sample of their writing, and their age mentioned somewhere on the blog.

02. racism, sexism, ableism, homophobia, transphobia, islamophobia or xenophobia will not be tolerated here. if you participate in any of the aforementioned behaviours, i will hard-block you.

03. this blog is highly selective, mutually exclusive, sporadic activity with a preference for plotted interactions. this is in no means to assert superiority, but only for my own comfort.

04. do not god-mod. this is pretty self-explanatory.

05. this is not a trigger-free blog. dark themes such as violence, murder, blood, etc. may not always be tagged. but i will try my best to tag common triggers in the '[trigger] tw' format. if you'd like something tagged specifically, please shoot me an ask or a message!

06. this is a multi-ship blog. chemistry and plotting is a must for shipping. that being said, there is no auto-shipping on this blog.

07. may be less likely to follow/follow-back if I see you interact with many portrayals of one particular character ( multis may be an exception. ) this is in no way personal, it's simply because I don't like the insinuation of being collected.

08. i am of age, but there will be no explicit nsfw content on this blog. if our interactions escalate that way, all i can offer is fade-to-black.

09. don't be a shitbag! thank you for giving this a read. ❣️

MUSE LIST:

• INEJ GHAFA. from six of crows by leigh bardugo. entirely book based + headcanon influences. ( fc: amita suman. ) previously ghafaith. • NIKOLAI LANTSOV. from king of scars duology by leigh bardugo. entirely book based + headcanon influences. ( fc: leo suter. ) previously pritvolny / synravki. • THE NUTCRACKER PRINCE. from the language of thorns by leigh bardugo. brief intro here. headcanon-based. ( fc: corey mylchreest. ) • LORETTA 'LORI' CONWAY. original creation based in contemporary modern verses. brief intro here. ( fc: daisy edgar jones. ) • LINNEA OPJER. semi-original creation. mentioned in grishaverse by leigh bardugo. brief intro here. ( fc: anya taylor joy. ) • RONAN LYNCH. voice testing. from the raven cycle novels by maggie stiefvater. ( fc: tbd. ) • ADAM PARRISH. voice testing. from the raven cycle novels by maggie stiefvater. ( fc: tbd. )

[naksua]

CHARACTER    &    BLOG ASSOCIATION     /     DASH GAME.

animal:   firebird,   phoenix,   viper.

color(s):    soft and pale pinks,   and variants of blues.

month:   december.

song:    nightmare by halsey,   who is she by i monster,   devil i know by allie x.

number:    four.

day or night:    night.

plant:     higanbana,   oleander,   lotus flower,   calathea.

smell:     lychee,   jasmine,   caramel.

gemstone:    jade,   sapphire,   onyx.

season:    winter and spring.

place:    top of the tallest tree,   field of wildflowers,   vast meadow.

food:     chicken.

astrological sign:    sagittarius.

element:   fire.

drink:    rosé,   chamomile tea,   soju.

tagged by.         @pritvolny​ kith kith  tagging.         @wolpha​ , @swirlings ( anyone ), @pistolslinger, @loregrown​ ( anyone ), and whoever hasn’t done this bc im p sure everyone i tagged has done it ,,,,,,,,perhaps,,,,,,,,,,,,, srry

[fenixburned]

what does your heart look like? /Matthias

an open door, a burning hearth

Your chest is wide open, and your heart is a home. Others are welcomed in readily and asked to stay. You are comfort and love, everything you were never given but so desperately want to provide for others. You have built this welcoming hearth with your own two hands and won’t see anyone else left out in the cold. Be careful to not burn yourself out trying to keep everyone else warm.

tagged by: @barrelcrow (thank you!! <3)

tagging: @sumyerki @crowshoots @iknowmetal @pritvolny & whoever wants to!

[violentlydone]

@pritvolny said : ' i wish we'd met when we were younger. '

imagine this : time is turned back until all you hear is the sound of clocks instead of beating hearts. despite the capharnaüm of this time travel, she stands still so she can observe the small girl she has been. there she is, a miracle of becoming, hand closed extra tight so magic would plummet to the ground & be swept under the bed, like a monster sentenced to oblivion. she wonders if that girl would have let herself fancy the prince, or if she would have been too afraid to do so, because alina has never been very good at wanting things for herself. either way, she can see the easiness with which love would have grown ; how children are like gardens... how they have yet to learn how to fear the world... how they might never do so if not given the opportunity.

"you would not have looked at me twice, your highness." it feels almost inadequate to use the title now, but perhaps that is why she needs it between them, like a reminder that if the past would have been devoid of today's struggles, youth would have not blurred the distance between their two worlds. she was a child with dirt on her hands and badly cropped hair. she followed mal blindly because she did not know where else to go. she was lost, looking for belonging in every place that seemed willing to give it. that she would have begged the prince to love her is not exactly staggering. that he would have found it in himself to have any kind of feelings for the plain-faced, small orphan girl she was… well. there is no reason to ponder about that, now, is there.

however, she can sense that it is important to him ; that he wants the possibility of beauty to be cradled between them & kept alive with low murmurs and a good portion of imagination. she might not be willing to explore that world within herself, but she sees no issue with letting him have this moment. he deserves as much. "but had we had the chance to meet then, before all of this…" fingers are soft as a baby bird's wing as they come to rest on his cheek, just long enough for her index to swipe down the end of his brow. "i would have found you much more likeable, yes." there, a small, amused grin that easily camouflages the loud truth.

[khronoes]

@pritvolny CONT .

luciana thought it felt awfully dreadful to be the only two people in the room.   the stories had told her otherwise.   how time stopped and two pulses became one,   a single breath of euphoric joy.   the stories never mentioned that singularity could be so suffocating.   in that moment,   when he’d proposed his suggestion,   the stage lights around them had turned off.   the act they put on had instantaneously come to an end and the curtains fell.    a singular spotlight bathed the two in its circular glow and in the crowded restaurant they were suddenly all alone.    in one fatal sweep,   reality had barrelled into her.   her mother had always warned her : you only ever realize the worth of something when it’s slipping through the cracks between your fingers.    a harsh pill she now couldn’t bring herself to swallow.

she cleared her throat and moved stray pieces of spaghetti around her plate.   a stringy dance in pale white alfredo sauce as she collected her thoughts.    ❝   okay,   ❞   she nodded once without meeting his gaze.   in the shadow of her bowed head she curled her lips into an amicable grin before straightening up.    ever the actress,   she wrangled her newfound emotions back where they had been kept hidden for the duration of their arrangement.   to anyone else watching,   and they always had an audience,   nothing was amiss.   ❝   i’ll accept his invite.   ❞    her dark eyes studied his expression for a long stretch.    a part of her hoped his pride would get the better of him,   have him call off the idea before it was too late.   ❝   but are you sure ?   ❞   she carefully goaded before adding.    ❝   this is a little,   um,   off script for what we’ve been doing.    ❞   what had they been doing and when had it started to feel so tangible ? her eyes flickered between them because no words seemed adequate to describe their circumstance.    no words could encapsulate why the air around them felt so charged in that very moment.