#volkvolny

[polis-fandom]

"Shadow and Bone" Season 2 on Netflix, costume designs by Wendy Partridge, illustrated by Pixoloid Studios.

Sturmhond, Tamar Kir Bataar, Tolya Yul Bataar, and the "Volkvolny" crew.

Source Pixoloid Studios Instagram.

[sapphicsaints]

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. 

[zipadeea]

okay absolutely 100% would have wanted to end up as one of the peeps on the pirate ship at the end of Shadow and Bone, that crew is fucking amazing. Mal as the Dread Pirate Roberts??? Tolya aka badass himbo of my heart???? and the FUCKING WRAITH????? Ravka who? Ketterdam what? I want to be on the Volkvolny

[kirstichristina]

At the End of the World

So, the other day I listened to a song of one of my favourite bands and it kind of inspired this Tolya drabble. Can be read like Tolya x reader, but mostly it is Tolya x adventure or Tolya x new literature and poetry.  “Poetry” is Visions of Atlantis - “Mercy” and “Freedom” 

We have a name but we wear no blazon

Born in a place where we feel no reason

To belong, to belong…

At first it had been exciting, interesting. Even fun.

But as days turned into weeks and weeks into months, Tolya started to feel restless.

 As he turned into the courtyard of the Palace, he felt gloomy in spite of the first rays of the spring sun warming his face.

Life aboard the Volkvolny had been adventurous, he had visited far away lands and cultures, learned about their literature and poetry and… Saints, he missed this life. Of course, his former captain was now a king, his king, no one deserved a happy ending more than him and Zoya and there was still plenty to do and a lot of mischief and trouble to be managed, but it was no longer the same. 

He was not the king. He was a soldier in the king’s personal guard, but he could not shake the feeling that he had been so much more in the life before this one.

He made his way through the grounds, aimlessly yet determined to do something. Anything really to escape his everyday routine.

That’s when he heard the commotion at the front gate of the palace. He cocked his head. Maybe there was the excitement he had been looking for. 

In a few swift strides he made it to the source of the loud voices and saw a crowd of people gathered. He felt curiosity getting the best of him and ran up to Tamar, whom he saw standing further to the back.

“Tamar, what’s going on?” he asked, making her jump. 

“Didn’t see you there, brother. Looks like Y/Ns back again, bringing riches, spices and tales from the edges of the world.” 

Tolya felt a pang of jealousy. He still remembered how Y/N left for the first time on their own ship, the letter of undertaking from the Ravkan crown in their pocket, making them Nikolai’s Stormvixen. They had grinned at Nikolai and said in best Stormhund manner:

“Don’t be sad, Sobachka. You know I love you dearly as my friend and king and strictly in that order, however, I am not made for life at the Palace and no love could ever confine me to one place and one place only.”

Back then, Tolya did not fully understand what they had been talking about, but the more time had passed, the more he felt he did.

That was when he saw a glint of Y/N and it gave him a jolt. Hugging Zoya, Y/N was laughing so heartily, it threw him off his thoughts. There were few people who ever gave Zoya a hug, even fewer who had lived to tell the tale, but they had always had a weird relationship with the former General, now queen. As they smiled at Zoya and said something inaudible to her, Y/N’s eyes started wandering about the perimeter and suddenly, their eyes met. He could see the instant recognition and could almost feel their excited energy at his sight and the sudden irritation that there were so many people to greet. 

He smiled to himself and just fell back to lean at the Palace walls. 

Tamar followed him and with a single look at his face said: “Aren’t we looking a bit smug? Just because they recognised you?”

He smiled. “No, because they are happy to see me. And because just this morning I was thinking how I might need something interesting to happen. And soon.”

Tamar gave a laugh. “Dear brother, we have been through a civil war, a war and a whole lot of unrest. I think we earned the right to be bored out of our minds some days.”

He shrugged. She wasn’t wrong, but that did not help his restless mind. Tamar had Nadia. He had his poetry. Before that had been enough for him and Tamar had been the restless one. It was strange how the tables had turned.

Suddenly, Y/N stood right in front of them. “Tamar!” They hugged his sister. “Anatoliy!” he had totally forgotten about that nickname only they were allowed to use. He groaned, but still hugged them tight to his chest and smelled the sea breeze on their hair and the freedom they radiated.

Tamar laughed. “And up until now, he was so happy to see you. See, my little brother seems to get bored with life at the palace.”

Their eyes shot to his face. There was a strange glitter in them, like a magpie that had found an especially beautiful and colourful pebble. “I could say I told you so.” 

Tolya shrugged. “Well, some days are worse than others. But it is nice having some time on my hands to read.”

Y/N was about to reply to that, when Nikolai stormed into the courtyard and hugged them just to swing them around. 

“Well, if it isn’t my favourite privateer! What news and treasures did you bring me this time?”

Y/N cocked an eyebrow. “Last time I checked, I was your only privateer.”

“That doesn’t mean that I value you any less. You know I am a big fan of your work.”

Tolya smiled to himself and followed them into the Palace, listening to the barrage of words the two of them exchanged. He had totally forgotten about the way these two could talk. However, he could not help but smile. Sometimes things just fell into place.

*

Whenever there were important guests, there were banquets to be held and Tolya found himself looking forward to the evening, even though he was not the biggest fan of formal events. But ever since Nikolai had become king of Ravka, the events were less formal than before, nobody frowned at Tolya’s choice of clothes or his sister’s favourite axes.

He had seen little of them throughout the day, as they had been in strategy talks with Nikolai and Zoya most of the time. Even freedom seemed to come with some strings attached. But that made him look forward to dinner even more. 

But even then, Zoya and Nikolai kept them occupied, there was a lot of business talk and then a little talk about how the Grisha flourished under Zoya’s and Genya’s care. Tolya knew that this was not his time and under the watchful eyes of Tamar made his way out into the grounds to escape the talk of Ravka. He loved the country, he just knew it too well by now. 

He wasn’t too disappointed, the two of them had always had a strong bond and he knew that he would get his time with them, so he grabbed one of his oldest poetry volumes from his inside pocket and started reading in the evening sun. 

He had lost track of time somewhere in between the lines and letters, but suddenly he heard someone clear their throat. 

He smiled when he looked up and found Y/N standing in his sunlight, casting a shadow on his face. 

“The day that I give in to mercy

I give up the violence that evil adores

The day that my burden is drowning

Over and over and over the waves kiss the shores” he read out loud. 

He couldn’t see their face, but then they started to recite:

“Take me under the winds that blow

I know I’ll never be alone

To my freedom, I want to give all that I own

Breaking the laws

And leading the quest

Freedom the cause that beats in the chest

Wind in the hair and compass in hand

Til the day this very tale ends”

Tolya felt like they had suddenly torn the ground from under him. He knew these lines and they had been a constant and trusted comfort through the years of uncertainty and, well freedom. How did they know that?

“Anatoliy, you look like you saw a ghost?” they seemed slightly discouraged. 

He shook his head to get his thoughts in order. 

“How do you know this poem?”

A sheepish grin that looked almost guilty crept on their face. “I found this in one of your old trunks you left on the Volkvolny. And that page had been dog-eared badly. I did not know how personal it was. I am sorry.”

Tolya let out a long breath and shook his head. Then he grinned lopsidedly. “It’s an old friend. It has helped me through some rough times.”

“Care to have your friend back?” Y/N asked and extended their hand with the small book to him. How had he forgotten this one on the Volkvolny? 

He gingerly touched the book with his fingers as if it could fall apart if he gripped it a little too hard.

As he browsed gently through the familiar pages, Y/N let themselves drop beside him and stretched out on the meadow. 

“I miss you aboard, you know that, don’t you?”

Tolya chuckled. “Me or making fun of me with my sister?”

They seemed to think about it for a moment. Then smirked “Little bit of both to be honest.”

Together they sat in comfortable silence for a moment and looked at the slowly fading sun. 

“How has life treated you here in Ravka?” The question carried genuine interest.

So Tolya weighed his answer. Then he replied. “Life has treated me well. Everything is just…splendid.”

They snorted at that. “Well, that does not sound too convincing.”

“No, no”, Tolya held up his hands in defense, “That is not what I meant to say. It is good. Everything is good. No war, no threats from a madman with enormous powers, no one wanting to dethrone or behead Nikolai…”

“Well that is definitely a first.” Y/N grinned. 

Tolya shook his head but grinned fondly. “I know, I know, that last part is hard to believe.”

Y/N studied his face and he knew they could read it like an open book. 

“You miss it, don’t you?”

Tolya sighed. “Is it so easy to see?”

“We are the same in many ways. And Nikolai and Tamar might not see it, but that is because they have new challenges, new duties and people to fill their lives with. And it is not their fault, so they should. But it is one thing to leave your old life to build a new one or if you just help somebody build their life, but can’t seem to find a home there.”

Tolya frowned. “I do feel at home here, with these people. It is safe, but I am…”

“You are missing a purpose, is what it is. You went through life with all your faith and these convictions and you fought for them, but what do you do when there is nothing left to fight for?”

“So what would you have me do, oh wise one?” Tolya chuckled.

Suddenly, their whole body seemed to thrum with excitement. “Come with me Tolya, be my first mate. Let us live our lives like the pirates we once were, find paradise somewhere at the end of the world, help the suppressed and crest the waves. These meadows here may be green and the forests deep, but the Oceans carry a far bigger promise.” 

For a moment his golden eyes glittered with excitement, but then the old thoughts came creeping in. “I cannot leave Nikolai and Tamar. What if they need me?”

“Anatoliy, don’t you think it might be time to let them learn to fly on their own and to make your own path in life? Study literature in far away countries? Write poems about our heroic deeds as Ravka’s best privateers?”

“If I remember correctly, we are Ravka’s only privateers.”

Y/N made a throw away gesture with their hand. “Details. Not important.”

Now Tolya burst out laughing. “You spent too much time with Nikolai, that much I know.”

“Oh, and I don’t even spend as much time with him as you do.” they grinned. But suddenly they turned to him and clasped his hands in theirs: “Just think about it. That is all I ask of you. Promise me, you will think about it.”

With that, Y/N let go of his hands, got up and brushed some grass off their coat. “I’m cold and there is still a party in my honour inside. I will see you around, grasshopper.”

Tolya smiled as they sashayed back inside, feeling free for the first time in a long time.

“Take me under the winds that blow

I know I’ll never be alone

To my freedom, I want to give all that I own.

Ahoy.” he whispered. 

[stromuprisahat]

Siege and Storm- Chapter 5 (Leigh Bardugo)

Why?

It’s not like they don’t know their way around the ship, is it?!

Or does Volkvolny work on the same principles as Amazon?!

(x)

Is this just another case of “Sturmhond is the one of people, UNLIKE the Darkling”?!

Why are they waiting for him to send them to Healer?

[mstecnofan]

i was watching shadow and bone season 2 and i paused at the right time, it looks like a meme format

[barrel-crow-n]

in the post about Nikolai and kaz and the fic? Will there be Zoyalai?

More on the minor side, as Zoya doesn't really make an in fic appearance, but it is implied/referenced and Nikolai talks about it quite a bit

[sleepless-crows]

nothing just tamar and jesper believing in true love makes my heart akshslsnsiksbsnd

[sanktnikolais]

Come on Netflix show us Tamar’s arm tattoos don’t be shy

[polis-fandom]

Shadow and Bone season 2 stills

from NetflixGeeked twitter account.

[sapphicsaints]

[pistolslinger]

jesper 🤝 tolya: ruining ivans day

[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.

[undiscovered-horizon]

In Emerald Hearts, Emerald Minds - Nikolai Lantsov x Reader

[mentions of unwanted advances + suggested groping + suggestive/sexual (consensual) themes]

☽ REQUESTS ARE OPEN ☾

SUMMARY: When Vasily asks you to forget his half-brother and marry him instead, you escape the Little Palace along Alina. Nikolai realizes something strange is going on when Kaz mentions seeing a similar emerald ring on the woman that came with the Sun Summoner. With how much you and Nikolai have been running in circles to find each other, the reunion aboard Volkvolny feels almost fated.

WORDCOUNT: ~ 4.6k

>>Grishaverse-inspired playlist&lt;<

It feels like the Winter Fete has been going on forever. The champagne keeps on being poured, the guests keep on dancing and the circus acts just keep on performing as though tomorrow is a mere mirage, a concept of a certain time period that never actually comes. Inside those walls of gold and marble, the misery devouring all of Ravka seems like nothing beyond a mad nightmare - something so removed from reality, it’s hilarious in its ridiculousness. Everyone is so carefree and happy you almost take their joy as your own.

Almost.

The orchestra begins playing Waltz of the Flowers and you feel your throat tighten. Despite doing your best not to, your mind relives that fateful night when everything changed. For the longest time, you’d been claiming that the change was for the better but now, standing alone for another year in a row and watching the dashing aristocrats spin to the music, you’re not so sure anymore.

“You really need to stop doing this,” Nikolai says firmly. Although his tone is decisive and clearly unwilling to accept defiance, a pronounced hint of amusement lives between his words - a thread of light-heartedness, one might say.

Your eyebrows gently furrow. “Doing what?”

“Smiling at me like that. Any longer and I might ask you to marry me.”

It feels like you’re about to burst at the seams. Trying to contain your emotions, and failing at it quite horribly, you bite your lower lip. “I might say yes.”

“Where have you gone, Kolya?” you whisper under your breath. The gloss of vacancy covering your eyes blurs the dancing bodies into one mass of faceless strangers. But it also makes you not notice someone approaching you.

“I find it quite admirable.”

Vasily’s voice startles you. To your now-gone relief, you didn’t have the displeasure of running into him all evening - until now. If you were to list all of the things about the older Lantsov son that makes your skin crawl, you’d be done by the time another Winter Fete is organized. The top of the list, however, deserves to be mentioned as it’s an inseparable part of your every interaction with the prince: he’s quite adamant and crude in his desire to be more than just a future brother-in-law to you.

“Excuse me?” you stutter out.

That patronizing look on his face is now accompanied by a cocky half-grin as he realizes he caught you off-guard. “Your devotion to my brother. For all we know, he might be already dead, Saints’ protect him.”

“Don’t even say that!” you hiss at him. Right after, you look around to check whether one of the guests has noticed your unpleasant exchange.

Despite what you’ve just said, you know he’s right. There’s no way you can be sure that your Kolya is either dead or alive. Perhaps this is the detail further ripping your heart apart - you don’t know anything about his fate; you’re mourning, although you’re yet to see the coffin. You haven’t for a few years now and each passing month of silence only made court gossip more cruel and bold.

“All I’m saying, dearest,” Vasily begins quietly as his hand drags along your arm, “is that the moment the news of Nikolai’s death reaches the Grand Palace, you’ll be thrown out. On the other hand, I can make you the Queen of Ravka. And unlike my brother, I won’t disappear off the face of the Earth and forget about his beloved lady.”

The word of endearment is dripping with sarcasm as it leaves his chapped lips. His breath reeks of alcohol and you unknowingly turn your head away. Vasily seems to think you’re about to leave his side, so his hand tightly grips your arm. The hold is almost bruising. He yanks you even closer towards himself.

“Kolya hasn’t forgotten about me,” you say in a shaky voice. Maybe he’s not as foolish as he appears and Vasily is genuinely trying to break you down.

The prince studies your face for a moment, definitely noticing how shaken you are. His eyes have the strangest glint to them - something between desire and contempt. “Is that so?” he barely stifles a grim laugh. “He would have written you a letter if that were true, no?”

Tears sting your eyes. Vasily is certainly smarter, or at least more cruel, than he lets on. He knows exactly what to say to get into your head. It’s a startling difference between him and Nikolai - only one of them does what he can to keep a smile on your face. Well, did.

His dirty, rough hand grabs your chin. Vasily forces you to look at him, his smile wavers upon noticing your desperation. “Consider your options, зайка,” he purrs out. The prince’s other hand trails your face. “The choice is yours.”

A tear falls down your cheek. You feel it rolling across your skin and you silently hope the guests surrounding you are watching this scene. Then, you lean in even closer to Vasily’s face. The whisper leaves your lips like a viper’s venomous hiss: "I will marry you the day you lay his dead body at my feet."

To your surprise, Vasily drops his hands and takes a step back. Despite the self-assured smile on his face, you can see the fury inside his eyes. “As you wish.” He bows curtly, turns on his heel and marches away, undoubtedly looking for another glass of alcohol and a lady naive enough to warm his bed.

The palace suddenly feels stuffy and overcrowded; the music is too loud, the plethora of smells make your head spin.

Outside. You need to get outside.

Bumping into several guests and mumbling half-coherent apologies, you run through the halls of the Little Palace. When the cold, night air hits your flushed cheeks, only then do you stop. Taking in a deep breath, you can actually feel your thoughts becoming clearer. 

With each gust of freezing wind, all the anger and sadness is leaving your shaking body. Vasily just wanted to get a rise out of you and, as much as you don’t want to admit it, he succeeded. Unlike he claims, Nikolai surely is alive. Maybe bruised or sick or not sleeping well but as long as there’s no news about him being dead, he is as alive as one can be. The same starry sky hangs above your and his heads. Perhaps, in this small moment of longing, he’s thinking about you too. Wherever he is.

A tired sigh leaves your lips. You’re about to turn around and go back inside when a silhouette moving in the night catches your attention. The shape is swift although careful like a lizard approaching a fly. You see them looking around before running for another few meters only to hide behind a bush or piece of architecture.

Curious and a little scared, you follow the stranger towards one of the carriages. Quietly, you get close enough to grab their wrist. The shape lets out a gasp and turns around to look at you.

“Alina?!” you whisper. What in Saints’ mercy is she doing? You look at her warm, casual clothes and the bag on her back. “Are you running away?”

“I need to leave,” she answers equally quietly. Her voice as well as her stare is filled with certainty - she’s convinced beyond reasonable doubt this is the right thing to do. “Please, don’t try to stop me.”

You let go of her hand. “Stop you?” A dry chuckle leaves your lips. “I’m coming with you.”

“What?” she deadpans. Alina is staring at you with a vacant stare and her mouth slightly agape. Apparently exchanging royal comforts for hay and stolen apples is unthinkable.

“If I have to spend one more day around Vasily, I will murder someone.”

Alina slowly nods her head - she can definitely understand the sentiment. A dimwitted Fjerdan would have more charm than the older prince. But then she squints her eyes, looking at you with a sense of scepticism.

“Out there, there won’t be warm beds and three-course dinners, you know?”

“I know,” you answer with a careless shrug. Loitering and wandering isn’t for ladies of your sort, it’s like throwing a finless fish into a tank with sharks. Despite that, you’re quite convinced the means justify the end, at least in this scenario. “But out there is my Kolya. And I’m done politely waiting for him.”

A shadow of sadness covers her face. If there’s anyone who can understand your plight, it’s her. In fact, she is luckier than you - she saw her lover maybe an hour ago. Pleasant or unpleasant, the meeting confirmed to her that Mal is at least alive. It’s not a privilege you could afford.

“Then let’s go,” she says to you before opening the chest in the back of the carriage. Forgetting all of your etiquette and social standing, you climb into the compartment with her. Towards adventure or death, you’re going somewhere.

“The ring gave you away,” Kaz announces. “It’s too expensive for a bodyguard.”

Jesper knits his eyebrows together, suddenly remembering something. He leans towards Kaz but speaks a little too loudly for the question to be inconspicuous: “Didn’t that girl wear the same-”

When Kaz’s cold glare meets Jesper’s squinted eyes, the dark-skinned man immediately closes his mouth halfway through the question. Both of them sit back as they were but the cat is already out of the bag. Well, not entirely - half of it is peeking out of the metaphorical sack.

Nikolai looks between them with unmissable suspicion. Although he’s heard enough to be aware of the possibility that the Sun Summoner isn’t travelling by herself, this is the first time either of the Crows admits it.

His heart begins to beat slightly quicker: Alina run away from the Little Palace along with another woman and that lady was wearing a royal jewel at the time. As long as Vasily didn’t lose his signet on one of his distasteful escapades, the course of events points to only one person - you. Shoving his restless excitement into the deepest chasms of his heart, Nikolai manages to remain his composure:

“Who was wearing that ring?” The prince-turned-privateer unknowingly fiddles with the heavy jewellery on his finger. Noticing the Crows’ reluctance, he makes them an offer: “If you tell me who you saw wearing an emerald ring, I might, say, give you ten minutes to escape.” Nikolai vaguely gestures to the closed window on his right-hand side.

Kaz knows there’s no point in lying any longer. The man in front of him is not only well-informed but also smarter than he looks, making the Crow wonder whether he also knows the answer to this question but prefers to play some kind of a game. In any event, he’s done his part of the deal and his ex-accomplices are left to their own devices. Additionally, he could really use those ten minutes. “A young woman that accompanied Alina Starkov. High-born, confident, decisive. Not a Grisha as far as I know.”

“Not a Lantsov, obviously,” Jesper chips in.

Brekker’s keen eyes catch the barely noticeable change in Sturmhond’s expression - the corner of his mouth merely stuttered up and down but it is enough to tell Kaz as much as he needs:

“You know her.”

Know her? If Nikolai had a weaker grip on his emotions at the moment, he’d laugh until his stomach and diaphragm hurt and then he’ll burst with laughter once more, unspeakably joyous that he might get to see her sooner than he thought. Yes, he does know her but in the way heart knows blood and lungs know air. She’s the ligament that keeps his bones together, the fibres that construct his muscles, the very blood that runs in his veins. Does the Moon simply know the stars? Do trees know their roots and branches?

But for now, he needs to stay focused. 

“Not really,” Sturmhond answers while scrunching his nose. “Many aristocrats wear a ring like that. While I may know of a lot of them, I hardly know anything about them.”

Kaz fights back a mocking half-grin begging to twist his thin lips. “I’d argue that an emerald in Ravka is a rather rare gem.”

“Hers is probably genuine. Mine’s stolen.”

Silence falls between the three men. Nikolai and Kaz are staring each other down, battling in some kind of war of wits and nerves, waiting for the other to give in. Jesper is stealing glances at both of them, feeling the cold tension rise in the air.

Against his deep-seated desire, Kaz doesn’t inquire further about the emeralds or the strange coincidence that the two enigmatic characters wearing them might know each other. He sits back in the chair, his shoulders visibly drop. As much as he’d love to dig deeper, he’d much rather get out of here and reclaim his freedom that is now endangered.

“Well, gentlemen,” Nikolai begins in an upbeat tone, “your ten minutes start now.”

Without saying anything else, he leaves the room. Only then, when the dark, wooden door close behind him, does he let suppressed emotions wash over him. A quiet chuckle brushes past his lips and for a moment even tears sting his eyes. Delight, worry, relief - conflicting sensations merge into one, completely overpowering flame burning inside his chest.

Maybe he doesn’t have the Sun Summoner and he still needs to come up with a plan to catch her but Nikolai hasn’t been this happy for a while now: his солиышко is alright, still making the world brighter and warmer. If he can get to Alina Starkov, he might see her again, although he begins to wonder whether she wishes to see him after all those years of silence and ignorance. But if he can see her, just witness the marvel of her entire being even for one last second, he’ll be cured of the longing and loneliness that has been gnawing at him ever since he left Os Alta.

You’re following the Shu man to what you assume is his captain’s cuddy. The ship creeks and groans under the weight of the crew as well as the power of the waves. The bussing crewmen spare the three of you a glance, only to show disinterest and go back to their duties. It’s a nice change compared to the kerchen ship you travelled on to Novyi Zem, where the captain asked Alina and you to stay under the deck because of the sailors’ superstition. After getting off the ship, it took you a good week to wash out the reek of cured cod from your clothes and hair. Sometimes you still felt like you can smell it in the air, even in the dusty wind sweeping through Novyi Zem.

Your ‘guide’ pushes the door and they swing open with a creak, the list of the ship aiding the motion. Except for the squeaky hinges, probably rusting faster than anyone can manage, Volkvolny is in good shape. In fact, it looks brand new - no mould or woodworms.

“Captain, request for charter,” the stocky stranger announces with a hint of amusement or excitement in his voice. Despite his imposing visage, the Shu man has made a good impression on you but the long sword on his back kept you vigilant against getting too comfortable in his company.

Only when he moves to the side, presenting the three of you to his captain, do you see the face of the infamous Sturmhond.

You want to laugh. In fact, you have to clench your fists to stop yourself from bursting out with laughter. This situation feels like the strangest coincidence that you can think of, which in turn makes you suspect that it’s not a coincidence at all. Because what are the odds?

Nikolai’s face momentarily brightens up when he recognizes you, a new glint lights up his eyes. He looks different than you remember but in all the right ways: his shoulders look broader and his hair is longer, curling in a way that makes him appear more infantile. You remembered him as a handsome man but the Nikolai in front of you is beautiful enough to be considered unreal.

He's staring into you like a deer caught in headlights until Tolya hands him Alina’s unusual means of payment. As Nikolai is turning the piece of jewellery in his fingers, you notice another change: his hands look rougher, definitely scarred from all the adventures you hope you’re yet to hear about.

The blond prince turns his attention back to Alina, Mal and you. “A gold hairpin can get you anywhere. But an emerald ring?” He gestures to you. “It can get you everywhere.”

“It’s not for sale,” you answer, although you know he’s not trying to buy it. After all, he’s the one that gave it to you.

“I don’t want it.” Nikolai shakes his head. Then, a flirty smile appears on his face. “Looks better on you anyway, doll.”

You’re about to respond to his remark when his attention is once again placed on Alina. “Now, Tolya says you’re looking for a charter. Where are we sailing?”

Alina begins the story with ‘the creation of the world’ as your mother used to say: the Little Palace, Darkling, Morozova’s amplifiers and the Fold. Nikolai nods along, never giving away that he’s privy to most of the story. He doesn’t believe in the Sea Whip at first but that’s hardly his fault - not too long ago people wouldn’t believe in the existence of the Sun Summoner and now she’s standing beside you, nervously rubbing her hand. As you have expected from the moment you saw that Nikolai is Sturmhond, he agrees to the insanity of taking up the quest to catch the amplifier.

“Tolya will show you around.” He sends you off. You’re about to follow your friends out of the cuddy when he adds: “You, emerald lady, I’d like to talk to in private.”

Alina gives you a concerned look (‘blink twice if you need help’)  but you only smile and nod at her in response. With Mal tugging at her arm, she reluctantly leaves you and Sturmhond alone.

The moment the door closes behind Tolya and your friends, Nikolai runs around his desk towards you, engulfing you in a bone-crushing hug. His hand threads through your hair, pushing your head further into the crook of his neck. Even if you tried, there’s no way you can pull away or even move. Taking a deep breath, you smell the familiar fragrance of his cologne but now it’s mixed with the scent of resin, saltwater and seaweed.

Then he pulls away, looking you up and down with burning worry. “Are you alright? Are you hurt? What are you doing here?”

You swear he could be bleeding out on the floor and still he’d be apologizing for staining your clothes. It’s heartwarming that despite the years and evident change in his appearance, Kolya is still Kolya.

A wide smile enters your face. “Looking for a frisky sailor to take me on a voyage filled with indecency, obviously.”

“Well, here he is.” Nikolai points to himself and winks at you. “And he’d really like to know why you’re in Novyi Zem with the Sun Summoner and whats-his-face and not in the Grand Palace in Os Alta.”

You let out a heavy sigh and shake your head gently. “I grew tired, Kolya.” His eyebrows slant upon hearing the exhaustion in your voice. Despite the sheer happiness he feels when you say his name, the concern gnawing at his heart seems to be more powerful. “Years have gone by without you giving me even the tiniest sign that you’re alive and well. And your brother, Saint’s have mercy on him because I won’t, has been adamant about marrying me ever since you left. I told him I will accept his proposal the day he lays your dead body before me.” You make pause, noticing a strange shadow hanging over Nikolai’s face. But he’s not saying anything for a moment, so you finish what you wanted to say: “I had to get away from it all. There’s only so much uncertainty and intruding fingers a lady can take.”

“By the Saints,” he breathes out, “did Vasily lay a hand on you?”

You feel his grip around you tighten but it’s not painful, rather securing. “If you’re asking whether he hit me or forced himself on me, then no, he did not. He did, however, make it abundantly clear what he wants from me. On multiple occasions.”

Nikolai’s face twists in a scowl. The glint that lit up his eyes when he saw you is now gone, exchanged for something dark and unstable. “I’m so sorry, if I knew-”

“I know, love,” you interrupt him. He doesn’t need to announce the ends he’d go to in order to ensure you’re safe and comfortable. Nikolai has never said or done so but you’re fairly convinced he wouldn’t shy away from fistfighting Vasily if he said something less-than-savoury to you. “But neither of us could have known.”

“I promised you’d be safe in Os Alta.”

“And I promised to stay put.” You can’t keep laughter in any longer. You’re not quite sure whether your chuckle is born out of happiness or disbelief. “Now look at us.”

Suddenly, he knits his eyebrows close. At first, you think he’s confused but then the slight rise of his cheeks suggests something closer to contempt or disgust. "Would you actually marry Vasily if he gave you my dead body?"

You can only give him an indifferent shrug. "Maybe?” you ponder aloud. “If you were dead, I would lose all care about what happens to me or with me. In a way, I’d be dead too."

Nikolai takes one of your hands and kisses its fingers. Your breath hitches in your throat when you feel his warm lips against your skin. “I could never rest in peace knowing how he’s treating you.”

“Having you haunt me would be incomparably better than you just being gone. Everything is better than silence.”

His shoulders slouch. Nikolai looks away from you for a moment, admiring the floor in his cuddy but even this can’t hide his guilt and shame. “I couldn’t have just popped in for a visit. Not anywhere in Ravka.”

"You couldn't even have written me a letter?"

"Someone at the palace would recognize my handwriting. I couldn't risk it."

"Then you could have dictated the letter to one of your crew."

That self-assured, flirty smirk appears again on his face. "And scandalize my crewmen with the things I want to tell you?”

As much as you’ve dearly missed his insufferable humour, at the moment it’s making your skin crawl. “This is a serious conversation, Nikolai,” you state firmly.

“I am serious, солиышко.” The pet name rolls off his tongue with both weight and lightness as though it belongs exclusively to you and no one else can ever claim it as their own. He kisses your hand again but keeps it against his lips for a while longer. Then, he places your fingers on his chest and you can feel the soft thrumming of his heart. “Do you think I never thought about writing to you? That I didn’t stay up at night thinking about what I will tell you when we meet again? Countless letters I have begun only to tear them apart and throw them into the sea or burn them. If some people found out we know each other, you’d be in much greater danger than Darkling following your steps. I’d rather deal with the heartbreak of staying away from you than know I put you in danger because I can’t live without you.”

It brings you a grim sense of comfort that he’s been equally torn as you were over the lack of contact. You never thought about it before but Nikolai must have been worried sick, not knowing whether you’re alright and happy. Has he imagined your plight and misery as often as you did his?

“What did you write in those letters?” you ask in a shaky voice.

“I wrote about how much I miss you, how it physically hurts to consider that you might think I have abandoned you. When I was hungry, cold, tired or sick, only the memories of you made me push on. On nights when I couldn’t sleep, I’d stare at the sky above me and wonder whether you’re looking at the same stars. I wrote that wherever I go, I see your face. You are in every sunrise and sunset, every flower I see and every fire that warms me.” Nikolai lets go of your fingers, placing both of his hands on either side of your face. The softness in his eyes makes you swoon. “I only wrote the truth,” he says slowly, making sure you understand the weight of his words.

Swallowing back tears, you lean into his warm touch. “My beloved, my heart yearns for you?” you jest in a dramatic voice.

A playful smile creeps back unto his lips. “If only my heart.”

“Gross.”

“You wanted a frisky sailor.”

"You’re a pirate, not a sailor.”

"I’m a privateer,” he drones out the word as though it makes a world of a difference.

"Pirate sounds sexier."

Nikolai gives you a fake frown. “Oh, I definitely am a pirate."

Without thinking twice, he’s kissing you. The sensation is just as comforting as you remember. His soft lips are doting on you, growing needier with each peck as though this is some feverish attempt at making up the lost time. 

He pulls away to catch his breath and although you’re panting yourself, you unknowingly chase after him, unwilling to dismiss this carnal desire just yet. Nikolai seems to notice your eagerness - he flashes you a cocky grin and shortly pecks your lips again.

“You crossed Ravka, the Fold and the sea just to find me?” he whispers. His eyes are stuck to your wet, swollen mouth.

“And I’d do it a hundred more times if I had to.”

You exchange a few more hungry kisses, pecking and nipping at each other’s lips, before Nikolai continues the conversation:

“I want to say that I’m flattered but I’d rather not encourage you to do something this stupid and dangerous ever again.”

“Hate to break it to you but you took all the stupid with you.”

He rests his forehead against yours; hot, laboured breaths brush against your flushed cheeks. “I’d like to clarify that I’m not stupid, I just can’t seem to think about anything other than you.”

Nikolai wraps his arms around your waist. In a swift motion, he turns you around and pushes you against the edge of his desk. His strength surprises you when Nikolai effortlessly lifts you and places you atop the table, pushing off maps and navigation essentials. Firm, warm hands are restlessly wandering across your body, unsure where to lay or what to grab.

You gasp quietly when his fingers sneak underneath your shirt. “Is this the indecent part of the voyage, my frisky sailor?”

“By the Saints, I hope so,” he whispers against your lips. Then, he furrows his eyebrows questioningly. “Is that offensive to say around a living Saint?”

“I don’t think Alina heard you.”

His nimble fingers are quickly undoing the buttons on your clothes. “Well, she will hear you in a moment.”

“Gross,” you say with laughter in your voice but the word gets muffled as Nikolai gets back to kissing you again.

Even if the crew did hear you that day, no one dared say a word.

зайка [zay-ka] - bunny (feminine; term of endearment)

солиышко [sol-nee-shko] - little sun (unisex; term of endearment)

[babesiamthemenace]

36 from the NSFW prompts with Nikolai please?! 🥰

I know you requested smut but this wound up tuning into an angst/love confession fic within smut. I hope you enjoy!!!! Requests are open!

Summary:  Reader is a lifelong friend of Nikolai, having been with him during Sturmhold. Now that he is crowned to be King, the reality of war is starting to infiltrate your friendship and awaken things you had hoped to keep hidden. No chances left untaken.

Word count: 3.0K

Warnings:  🚫18+ Minors DNE🚫, afab! reader, slight angst, smut, fingering, p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it pls)

not my gif

No matter how many candles filled the map room of the forge, it still wasn’t enough to chase away the darkness of night. It gave a warm and hazy glow to the area, leaving a dull heat in the air. 

It was these candles that brought out the angles of Nikolai’s face. It was almost comforting for you to see him hunched over a table, scouring maps and looking over plans. You could almost pretend you were back on the volkvolny, deciding which port to dock on instead of where to attack next. From your hidden spot in the doorway, you could see the stress in his brow and almost feel tension across his shoulders. His hair was messy from fingers running through it, lips slightly chapped as well. You wished you could push away the loose strands from his forehead. 

“I know you’re staring.” Nikolai sounded tired, but there was still a hint of jest in his voice. You took a step forward. 

“Sorry. Lost in thought.” More papers, which had been forgotten in your hands, found their way in front of the king as you adjusted the mess on the long table. 

“So, what’s the consensus?” he asked, straightening his back with a satisfied sigh

A small smile found its way to your lips. “What?” 

“Am I still as devilishly handsome now that I’m to be King, or was a daring privateer a better look for me?” He faced you head on, a humorously quizzical look across his face. 

Chuckling, you pretended to study his features. You followed the lines of his strong nose and plush lips all the way to his collar bone peaking out of an unbuttoned undershirt. His brow tightened in anticipation of your answer. Honestly, he never looked more beautiful to you than right now; but he couldn’t know that. “Definitely the privateer, I’m afraid.

“Well damn.” 

Smiling again, your hands searched for something to do. As if second nature, you began piling up loose papers, and rolling maps back up. Your eyes followed paths across the country side and the borderline unreadable footnotes along the edges. Pausing, you ran your fingers along a dashed line going north. It was done in pencil rather than the professional inking of the map.  It was the path Alina and Mal had taken to look for the firebird with Baghra. Worry ran through you as you thought of your friends. 

“They’ll be okay.” You hadn’t noticed Nikolai come up beside you. He placed a hand on your shoulder, fingers gripping tightly to the wool of your coat. You could almost feel the warmth of his skin through the thick fabric. 

“I know they will be.” you sighed, leaning your head back. “it’s what happens after.” 

He hummed in confusion.

“We’ll be going to battle.” 

“And when have I known you to be afraid of a fight?” His voice was still teasing, much to jovial for your liking. 

“When the fight has stakes like these, Nikolai.” you snapped at him. You turned fast, his hand dropping from your shoulder. “This isn’t some slavers ship or enemy club. This is us, against Grisha; powerful Grisha. The odds are stacked against us here.” 

“Don’t you think I know that.” he wasn’t yelling, but his voice was stern, commanding. “You think I don’t know all that we are risking here?”

“I know you know.” You ran your fingers through your hair angrily “It doesn’t change the fact that the possibility of us failing is greater than winning.” You pressed your palms against your brow “I could die” your hands slammed into your chest, then into his “You could die.”

“I won’t let that happen.” his voice was firm with resolve  

“You can’t control that.” 

He laughed coldly “Have you no faith in me?” 

“On the contrary, I have too much faith in you.” 

You roughly sat down in an empty chair, hiding your face in your hands. Faith, devotion, pride; these were all things you felt for Nikolai. You would do whatever he asked, you trusted Nikolai with your life. 

“I have followed you to the ends of the earth, and I would gladly do it again. You’ve been there through thick and thin, but it doesn't change that fact that I’m still afraid.” You looked up to see he had leaned against the table beside you, eyes on yours. Your voice was quiet, wavering with emotion. “I have too much to lose.” 

Nikolai’s voice was heavy and low, as though saying it too loud was a sin. 

“We all have something to lose.”  His hand found yours, still not looking away from your gaze. A pang of nervous excitement filled you as you stared into his eyes. A small smile couldn't help but find its way to your lips. You could almost get high off of this giddiness Nikolai was making you feel. It was making you bold. 

You stood up slowly, still holding onto Nikolai’s hand. The other gently cupped the side of his face. The slight prick of a day’s stubble brushed against your palm as he leaned into your touch. 

“If something is to happen to us… and we fall” you whispered, your face growing closer to his “ I want it to be with no regrets.” 

It was Nikolai who crossed the final stretch to meet your lips. The kiss was not long and almost timid. Still, his chapped lips felt like heaven against yours as you pulled away. Eyes closed, you pressed your forehead against his, warm breath fanning over your face. You could feel the energy buzzing between you.

“I am yours, Nikolai.” 

He groaned, dropping his head to nuzzle into your neck. 

“You shouldn’t say that.” His voice was low, spoken against your skin 

“I speak nothing but the truth.” Your hand found itself on the back of his head, running through the shorter hair “I am yours, Nikolai. I have been for a while.”  

One arm circled your waist. “Your words are dangerous, little minx.”

The next kiss from Nikolai was not so timid. It was deeper, the hand on your cheek almost pulling you closer. His lips met against yours again and again, the taste intoxicating. You gripped onto his hair as he stood. Walking back with long steps, you slammed into the wall as Nikolai pressed himself to you. 

There was a crazed atmosphere about the both of you; a boldness. The excitement of this finally happening mixed with your looming situation left only desperation. Any type of suave was gone. You needed him, and you needed him now. 

For how frantic Nikolai’s hands were moving, his tongue was gentle as it ran along your lower lip, almost asking for permission. You let him in without a second thought, groaning. The chill of the stone wall was a stark contrast against the heat of his body against your. As you pushed yourself farthing into him, you felt something hard pressed against your thigh. Swiftly, Nikolai untucked your shirt, hands roaming along the newly exposed skin of your waist.

Nikolai’s lips began to move along your jaw in wet, open mouthed kisses. Moaning into your skin, you pushed his head closer to you. Hurried fingers found their way to the buttons of Nickolai’s shirt, messily undoing the first few. 

“Wait. Stop.” he was out of breath, hands gently grabbing yours. Still, he continued to press kisses to your skin. “Not here.” 

He looked down at you with lust filled eyes, puffy lips shining as he smiled. A bolt of heat went straight to your core. 

Leading you by your hands, he quickly blew out any remaining candles. You thanked every saint you could think of for the empty halls as you hurried to Nikolai’s quarter. You both giggled as he fumbled with the door, hands still intertwined. Anticipation buzzed in the air around you.

His room was dark when you entered with only the cool moon for light. Nikolai entered first, leaning into you to pull the door closed behind you. It had the same effect as the candle light, highlighting his already prominent features. You both quickly kicked your shoes off, Nikolai throwing his overcoat to the floor.  

“Now, where were we?” 

If not for how badly you wanted him, you would have laughed at how insufferable Nikolai sounded. You settled for a smile as your hands went to his jaw. Your kiss was not quite as frantic as before, but just as deep. His hands rested on your waist as you pulled his face closer to yours. Your noses bumped together while you slowly walked him back to the bed. You wasted no time crawling onto his lap once he sat, lips never leaving his. Hands traveled the expanse of your back as you nibbled on his lower lip, pulling deep groans from him. Continuing to unbutton the rest of his shirt, your mouth found its place against his neck, sucking dark marks into the pale flesh. Unable to stop yourself, you ground down into Nikolai’s hips, lightly biting into his skin. Groaning, his hips bucked into yours, sending a delicious tension to your core. 

You finished on his buttons, slipping off his suspender and pulling his shirt back. 

In all your years together, you had seen Nikolai shirtless before, but there was something different about it this time. You traced the strong lines of his chest, and ran your fingers up his sides, enjoying the shivers that followed your touch. His hands gripped onto the loose shirt bunched around waist, blue eyes boring into yours. 

“May I?” you nodded. He pressed a quick kiss to your lips before pulling the shirt over your head. While you were still in your undershirt, the thin fabric did little to hide your form. Lips finding yours, his large hands palmed your chest, nipples pebbling under his touch. You moaned into his mouth, body on fire.  Whether it was a bolt of courage, or the need to have Nikolai’s skin on yours, you pulled off the slip. 

He moved his hands so they were resting just under your chest, rough fingers rubbing lightly over soft skin. Your breath caught in your throat as you watched him watch you, eyes trailing over your form. 

“Beautiful.” he whispered, eyes now on yours once again, “Perfect.” 

He began his assault on your neck again, following your collarbone to your breasts. He took one into his mouth, lapping over the bud. You moaned, your body keening forward into his touch. His hands supporting your back, Nikolai’s deep blue eyes kept contact with yours. He released with a pop, instantly moving to the other. As he continued, you ground down onto him, needing to find a release to the pressure building between you legs. One of the hands you had buried in his hair trailed down the waistline of his pants. Experimentally, you cupped the growing bulge, palming him. He instantly stopped what he was doing, burying his face between your breasts. 

“Saints, don’t stop.” He all but moaned into your skin, breathing heavily. You didn’t, pushing him down by his shoulders until he lay on his back, you overtop of him. 

“Gods, I want you.'' By now his blue eyes were completely blown out by lust, lips still shining. “I want all of you.”

To his protests, you did stop, moving up till you were over his head. You kissed him and he leaned up, chasing your lips when you pulled away. 

“As I said before, I’m yours to take”  

In a blur, you found your back hitting the soft mattress of the bed, Nikolai over you. His weight was being held up by one hand while the other was down at the button of your pants. He ran over the skin of your stomach, both in a teasing and hesitant manner. He would not go further just yet. 

You squirmed at his touch in anticipation “Please, Nikolai.”

“Please what?” his hand was now in your undergarments, but still not where you needed him 

“Please” you whined “touch me.” 

It felt like fire when he finally touched you, running his fingers along your slit. You both groaned. 

“Fuck” he was speaking almost to himself “Saints, you're so wet.”  

His fingers ran along your folds, and his thumb found purchase on your clit. You mewled, hips bucking into his hand.

Nikolai huffed in an almost laugh, “Eager, are we?”

He continued in tight, slow circles, drawing more sounds from your open mouth. You moaned at the pleasant stretch of a finger, heels digging into the bed. 

“You said you are mine, but that is simply not true.” you looked up at him with blown out eyes, pleasure coursing through your veins. 

“What do you…” you stopped, choking on a moan as he added another finger. It was like your nerves were on fire, and his touch was doing nothing to stop the heat. 

“You may think you are mine, but you're wrong.” he quickened his pace “I have been yours much longer than you have been mine.”

His words resonated in you, adding more fuel the fire.

Your fingers gripped onto the sheets, as if letting go would mean your death. The tension in your lower belly was now turning into a tight coil. Your pants now sat around your thighs, which were uncontrollably bucking up into his hand. Nikolai leaned forwards and took one of your breasts into his mouth, lewd sucking noises filling the air, along with your moans. 

“Please.” you wailed. The coil was now dangerously close to breaking, the tension almost too much “I need to…Please!” 

His lips left sloppy kisses against your skin, trailing up to your face. 

“Let go, love.” you wailed at his words “Let go for me.” 

With one final thrust into his hand, the coil snapped. Your vision darkened, pleasure taking over all of your senses. It was the most intense feeling you had ever observed. It pulsed throughout your body and into your core.

Your legs were shaking. That was the first thing you realized as you came too. The second was the wetness on your thighs. The final was the hand gently brushing over your face. Nikolai was cooing at you, pressing kisses lightly against your cheek. 

“You alright, my love?” he spoke in whispers, and you realized how out of breath you were. Instead of answering, you smashed your lips against his is a messy kiss, trying to convey your love for him into one simple action. All tongue and teeth, you finally broke apart to catch a full breath, resting against your forehead against his neck. 

“I need you, Nikolai.” you looked up at him “I need all of you.” 

The second he stood, you instantly missed his weight over yours. You sat, almost chasing him, but stopped when you saw he was undoing his pants. Shimmering yours the rest of the way down your legs, you laid back and waited. 

He was hard, almost painfully so, you would have guessed. Tip red and angry, it almost pulsed with need. A quick flash of guilt crossed you. You wondered how long he was like this while you were in the grasps of pleasure.

Moving back overtop of you, he ran his member through your folds, collecting slick. You moaned at the sensation, your heaving chest meeting Nikolai’s.

 You thought nothing could feel better than his fingers, but you were wrong. He created the most delightful stretch as he entered your heat. Nikolai groaned as he bottomed out, eyes screwed shut in pure pleasure, muscles tense in control.

He started with slow, yet deep strokes, hitting a spot that made your toes curl. Hands cradled his face. You shared breaths, his nose pressed into your cheek as his lips danced over yours. 

You both whispered words to each other, mostly only half finished thoughts lost in moans. Your legs wrapped around his hips, trying to keep him close as his thrusts began to speed up. The tension began to form again. His head dropped to your neck letting out smaller moans and whines into your skin.

Your hands rested on his back, skin clammy from sweat. His damp hair tickled you, but you didn’t mind as one hand dug into it, pulling slightly. His skin was fiery against yours, and yet you still tried to push as much of yourself against him as possible. One of his hands traveled down to your core, thumb messily rubbing over your clit once more. The small mewls you were making turned into choked wails as the coil tightened almost unbearably. 

Nikolai’s strokes were turning sloppy against you, going as deep and as fast as possible, hitting that perfect spot every time. It was a particular strong stroke that sent you over the edge yet again. 

You came, calling out his name as you raked your nails down his back. With one final thrust into your spasming core, he finished, groaning into your neck.  A new kind of warmth flooded your system. You were spent in the best way possible, body tired and thighs slick. The only sound that filled the air was heavy breathing as Nikolai looked up from your neck. He pulled out slowly and you both groaned at the sensation, but the loss of connection as well. You registered that he left, but came back very shortly, towel in hand.

After cleaning yourselves up, Nikolai pulled you close to his chest, arms wrapped tightly around you. He caressed your face, pushing back hair sticking with sweat. 

If you thought he was pretty an hours ago, he was gorgeous now. Messy hair stood in different direction and a nice flush covered his cheeks. Dark love bites littered his upper body, and his lips were almost bruised. You were sure you looked similar.

“I meant what I said” he whispered, smile on his face “I am yours, my darling” 

You leaned up and caught his lips. The kiss was tired, both of you energy gone.

“I love you” you grinned into his lips 

“And I love you.” 

[shadowandbone]

I don't know if you guys remember when we were on the Volkvolny–the crash. We're supposed to be doing cool action stuff and Lewis is there and they're looking really cool and I'm hanging on to a rope, and the boat–and I was supposed to be looking like it just crashed. But I went on my back and I couldn't get up. I was like a turtle just swinging around on this rope. It was honestly one of the most undignified positions I've ever found myself in.