#kervo

[goldensong911sartposts]

[stromuprisahat]

What do you think of grishaverse's map?

Maybe I haven't seen enough fiction-maps, but it confuses me. What's after the edge? Some black pitch that blocks Ravka??

✨It sucks!✨

It's just a series of randomly painted landmarks.

There's no size comparison for towns, cities or settlements.

This one might be a matter of unreliable narrator- Alina claims to see Os Kervo from the Fold near Novokribirsk.

The Fold crossing is made in the widest part of it.

Os Alta has white nights?!

I have no doubts I'll find more as I'm re-reading the books.

[ellewritesalright]

The Lost Princess - Part 1

Kaz Brekker x fem!reader

Synopsis: The old Queen Mother of Kerch's former royal family is offering a hefty reward to whoever returns her rumored-to-be-alive granddaughter to her. Kaz being Kaz hears about the reward and hatches an elaborate plot involving a fake princess. Reader is a lowly amnesiac orphan and escaped indenture who flees to Ketterdam where she gets tangled in Kaz Brekker's plot.

A/N: Hello friends!! Here is part one of a series I started writing a few years back but never published. It's inspired by the movie and musical Anastasia. I hope you all enjoy, and I hope it makes enough sense haha

Warnings: sickness, mentions of death, mentions of drowning, mentions of violence. pls let me know if I've missed anything

Word Count: 2056

..........

It was happening again.

You sat upright in the bed of your cheap lodgings, swinging your legs to the side and touching the floor. The threadbare rug was itchy against your toes as you took deep breaths, a desperate attempt at grounding yourself. Still, the dizziness did not subside. It came along every so often, never without the cryptic nightmares. There was always vertigo and memories of plunging into dark waters.

At least, you thought they must be memories. There was a significant gap in your mind from birth to the age of about ten, and the first thing you could remember was waking up on a fishing boat on the True Sea. The fishers handed you over to their boss, a wealthy merchant named Devisser, once you made port, and you were made to work for him in a fifteen-year indenture. You had worked as a scullery maid in that man's second home on the southern shores, but you managed to escape your indenture five years early, running off to Ketterdam.

Nowadays you were free to do whatever you pleased--if it was within budget, of course. You had precious little in your life, and you couldn't squander your money in the gambling dens of the city. 

You had to be smart if you were to make it to Os Kervo. Another maid at the house had said that there was a better chance of smuggling yourself to Novyi Zem than to find a safe passage to Ravka, but you didn't let her sway you. You had to get to Os Kervo. It was difficult to explain, but you felt instinctively that someone was waiting there for you. In your dreams, the better and brighter ones where you could feel the warmth of arms around you, there was a voice that whispered, "I'll meet you there, my little tiger. We'll be together in Os Kervo."

The only trouble was how you could get there. You had no travel papers or identification, and it was difficult to obtain any--even fake ones--with such little money. It was a difficult position you were in. 

So you went about your life, picking up odd jobs using fake names. Your name is already fake as it was. The surname, Vos, was given to you by one of the more kind fishers who pulled you from the water. He gathered a mound of blankets around you and sat with his arm around you, trying desperately to keep you warm. Sometimes you wondered about him, wondered whether he was still fishing for Devisser. Perhaps if the captain of that ship had not seen fit to hand you over to their boss the kind fisher would have taken you in. Life might have been better if you had been offered a chance at a family instead of an apron and a crushing daily workload. 

Your feet carried you to the wardrobe in this shabby lodging room. You had to sweep a spider off your jacket before you slipped it on. The morning air was a nice reprieve against your warm face as you walked down the streets. Shops were opening, food vendors were starting the fire in their ovens; Ketterdam was waking up.

You meant to walk further than the Barrel, but you stopped as you saw the window of some sort of pawn shop. There was a dress in the window. It was the emerald green of a kind of fabric you had never owned but knew instinctively would be smooth to the touch, like a flat stone one might skip on the ocean. There was something so familiar about the short ruffles of the over-the-shoulder sleeves; perhaps you had seen a guest at the big house wearing something similar when you used to spy from the door to the servant's quarters. 

There was no way you would be able to purchase such a beautiful gown, you barely had enough money to get by as it was, but you were drawn into the shop because of it. You had to spend some more time around it and the other beautiful items in the shop. You hadn't been around such lavish things since… well, never.

The bell above the shop door jangled, alerting a woman at the counter to your appearance. She smiled, but the sight struck you in the chest. As an amnesiac orphan, you learned early on that people saw you as weak, helpless, and naive. For your youth and lack of guidance, you were perceived as easy pickings, and people tried their tricks on you more often than you could count, especially here in Ketterdam. You'd learned to tell what was genuine and what was fake when you interacted with others, and the woman's smile was the first real smile you'd seen in a long time. 

"A beautiful dress for a beautiful young lady," the woman said.

You shook your head with a pleasant enough smile. "I was just looking. I could never afford such a thing."

"And yet here you are in my shop." She followed your eyes to a case of assorted valuables. When she saw the dull music box you stared at she hummed. "Would you like to know a secret?" You turned to her "That music box is from the old palace. It belonged to the missing princess herself, I swear on Ghezen and the saints."

You pondered the validity of her words, keeping a level expression so as not to upset her with your doubt. Everything you heard about the dead royal family seemed like it happened a lifetime ago, and no amount of rumours about one of their daughters being alive somewhere would make it any less a ghost story. 

Still, you smiled politely. Despite her pleasant expression, she was only trying to sell you something, something you would not need even if you could have it. It wasn't even the most eye-catching thing in the display, just a decrepit old music box of tarnished silver. The music probably didn't even play anymore.

"It's lovely," you lied, "though I don't believe I could afford it."

"I could give you a special deal. I like to think there's something in my shop for everyone. The music box deserves to go home with you."

"That's generous, but--truly--I cannot make a purchase."

She tilted her head at you. "What is it you want, my dear? You've come into my shop, looked around, and you have the nerve to refuse my generosity--what is holding you back?"

"I've already told you," you said, "I couldn't afford it."

"And if I gave something for free?"

You brushed her off. "That's a terrible business model."

"Perhaps. But I like you, little runaway that you are. You're a long way from home--you deserve something nice."

You felt your pulse quicken. She shouldn't have known that. You weren't on the list of runaway indentures, so the stadwatch wouldn’t be looking for you. You breathed in before you could turn to her, balancing your composure with great care. Emotions were not useful in situations like this. "What brought you to that conclusion?"

"You keep your head down, which is normal in the Barrel, but you're not doing it out of habit, you're doing it out of fear. You must be hiding from something--from someone."

She was apt, you'd give her that. The trouble was figuring out the degree to which you could trust her. She could sell you back to Devisser in a second if she wanted to, but she could also be willing to help you. After all, she did say she liked you. You looked her in the eyes and then spoke.

"I'm trying to get to Ravka. The thing is, I don't have the money for travel papers, be they legal or illegal. I can't afford even that, and I could never afford anything in your shop." You straightened out, about to leave. "I'm sorry to have wasted your time--"

"Brekker can help you."

You stopped in your tracks. 

“He can get you to Ravka, no travel papers necessary.”

You faced her again, questioning, “Where can I find this Brekker?”

“He owns a club down the road from here. The sign has one of those annoying blackbirds on it.”

“A raven?”

“No, a pesky crow.” She fiddled with a set of keys around her neck. “Anyways, he can help you on your way. I assure you.”

“How much will this information cost me?”

“Nothing, my dear. I hope you make it to Ravka.”

You thanked her, ducking your head as you left the shop. You kept a wary eye about you as you wove through the streets, finding your way back to your lodgings. There was little trust in such a wicked city as Ketterdam, specifically here in the barrel, and you were constantly looking out for any sign of danger. The shopkeeper wasn’t dangerous, not from what you could tell, but you had to keep your wits. One false move and you could be sent back to Devisser. 

You couldn’t let that happen.

..........

Kaz stepped out from the back of the shop after the bell above the door rang out once more, signifying your departure. He was lucky to have been behind a particularly packed shelf furthest from the door, else you would have seen him and wouldn’t have explained your plan to Eugenia, the shopkeeper. Eugenia, for her part, did well to nudge you in the direction of the Crow Club. Undoubtedly she would want some credit for that, he knew. And, just as he thought, she brought it up as soon as he reappeared. 

"I've found your missing princess for you, Kaz," Eugenia smirked. "And how valuable she'll be for you."

"You didn't do anything for me, Eugenia. She'll be just as impossible as the others," he retorted.

He'd been auditioning young women to play the part of the missing princess for months now. Ever since he'd heard of a hefty reward posed by the old duchess and grandmother to the princess, he'd devised a plan, learning everything he could about the toppled royal family.

"I think she's the one. Do you know why?"

He kept his stare neutral, but the disapproval remained on his lips in permanence. Eugenia liked to speak as though she knew best, leading tourists and tramps into traps as she sold them tin under the guise that it was rare silver. Even wisdom offered by her would be false.

She continued. "She'll play the part--and she'll be damn good at it--because she's desperate. Desperation makes us do what we otherwise would not."

He tilted a brow at her. "What do you want?"

"Waive six months of my rent," she said. There was no way she thought that he would accept this deal. He didn't even have confirmation that you would find him or that you would be willing to go through with his masquerade. Eugenia was a fool.

"If she is a good fit for the princess, I will waive one month of your rent," he bargained.

"Hold on, she is going to make you a million Kruge--I deserve more than a month for that."

Kaz frowned at her, leaning into his cane. Who was she to make demands? "Firstly, there's no guarantee that she can do the job. Secondly, even if she is a good fit, I don't owe you anything. You decided to send her to me before you thought to broker a deal; I don't owe you a thing." 

She thumbed at her ring of keys. Eugenia was upset with herself and with him, he could tell. 

"If she can play the part," Kaz said, straightening out, "I am willing to waive three months of your rent on the condition that you supply me with whatever I might need from this shop free of cost."

"Whatever you need for the job, right? I can't just give you anything you want from now on."

He nodded. "Just for the job. Do we have a deal?"

"Deal."

Kaz left the shop without the rent that he'd initially come to collect, but with something much more valuable if he played his cards right. He'd only caught a glimpse of you, but he was inclined to believe what Eugenia said. Desperation makes us do what we otherwise would not, and you had sounded plenty desperate.

..........

A/N: Thanks for reading! Feel free to like, reblog, and comment if you want to read more, I really appreciate the feedback! If you want to be tagged in the other parts of this series please comment on this part or send me an ask. And if you want to request a fic, please feel free to send in an ask. Otherwise, I hope you have a great day/night :)

Masterlist

Part 2

Tags: @justvibbinghere @happyhauntt

[d0wnb4df0rf1cm3n]

Still be here in the morning?

Nikolai Lantsov x F!Reader

Summary: You drive Nikolai wild. You want him to see you, to see you, but you're scared. If you give in to your desires and you let yourself fall, will he still be there in the morning?

Word Count: 2.9K

Warnings: SMUTTY SMUT, LOTS OF SMUT, lots of teasing, a lil bit of angst, and some fluff. Also the reader's nickname is Mouse - but it's not a size thing, it's an occupation thing *thumbs up emoji*

Author's Note: This started off as a smut thing but became a whole story thing so enjoy ;D

It was safe to say you drove Nikolai wild. You hardly listened to his rules, questioning your Captain in his every decision and driving him crazy with your constant bickering. You knew that you could, you were Nikolai's star crewmate and he would never risk firing you. No one was a better diplomat, marksman, or sailor - except perhaps Nikolai himself. You were a good detective too - you were the only one of his crew to have figured out his true identity.

You had teased him about it on a brief visit to West Ravka - an old family painting had given it all away.

"You'll never guess what I found, Cap." You said, waltzing into his quarters and jumping up onto his desk. He tilted his face up to you - indicating that he was listening - but kept his eyes focused on the maps laid in front of him, studying new routes out west. You were only docked in Os Kervo to collect a round of new supplies - enough to keep you afloat to Novyi Zem or even further.

"Tell me, Mouse. What have you found that is so worth sharing that you break into my quarters?" He used the affectionate nickname you had picked up since joining the crew - you were quiet, almost undetectable when need by. Of course, Nikolai knew how annoying and boisterous you could get when you were comfortable. Still, the nickname had stuck. In fact, you were almost certain that aside from Nikolai, and the twins, no one could remember your true name. It didn't matter. You had moved on from that life.

"Well, Tolya and I spent most of our afternoon in the galleries in Os Kervo-"

"-leaving Tamar to collect the supplies? Yes, I heard about that. Just because you keep us out of trouble with the law does not mean that you get to delegate all your duties to someone else. We work together, Mouse, you'd do well to remember it."

"Yes, yes, she said she was fine with it. Something about getting Tolya's poetic arse off her back for a few hours," Nikolai chuckled at that, "And anyway, the interesting thing is what I found in the galleries. You see, despite the Fold, West Ravka is still a united nation-"

"I'm aware."

"Stop interrupting me!" You swatted him with a loose piece of paper on his desk, "It's rude. You'd have thought that you had some manners - what with your pretentious nature."

"Is there a point to this, Mouse? Because I suggest you get there soon."

"Well, what I was saying was, I came across a portrait. A new one - well, sort of. It had the King - Pyotr, that is - and his wife, and their sons. Did you know that they had 2? I had simply forgotten." A cheeky grin had snuck onto your face and Nikolai was now looking directly at you. You leaned in close to his ear, "I'd say they did the younger son a disservice, wouldn't you? Your Highness?"

Nikolai moved swiftly, clamping his hand down over your mouth. "Does Tolya know?"

You move his hand off your mouth, "Of course not. I'm not one to be going around spreading rumours that are not mine to spread."

"Good. And you're going to keep it that way. Especially if you want to stay on this ship."

"Oh, Nikolai. You're not going to fire me. You won't risk having the biggest threat to your secret not on your side. I'm a diplomat - I know how intimidation works," Nikolai fixes you with a stare, "Ok, I was a diplomat, whatever. Semantics. Point is, you're not going to fire me. Your secrecy depends on it."

After that day, your teasing had increased ten-fold and Nikolai's patience with you had decreased just as much. He hardly spoke to you if he didn't have orders to give you. And it pissed you off.

To be perfectly honest, you made his blood boil. Nikolai didn't know what it was about you, but you knowing who he was had tipped him over the edge. He thought that he was untraceable - a new persona, a new look. He'd made a point to never dock in Ravka - but needs must and there was no way they'd survive a trip to Kerch. They'd been running on fumes. To be honest, the trip had gone better than expected. But of all the people to find out, it just had to be you. He stewed alone in his chambers. They were currently in Novyi Zem, planning to head further west. Ravka had no power further west than Novyi Zem, a notion which many - including you - were grateful for.

He'd never taken the time to understand what you were running from - almost everyone in his crew was running from some demon, but you had never once let slip who you were before you joined Sturmhond's crew. He knew that you were a diplomat of some kind and that you were half-Ravkan, but beyond that, you were a mystery to him. Perhaps that's what pissed him off. That you knew exactly who he was and who he had been and he knew nothing about you.

A knock came at his door. Who the fuck could that be? To his knowledge, everyone was out partying in the taverns. Who could resist a peaceful night out when you spent every other night on a ship sailing in the middle of an ocean? Nikolai could. And so could this mystery person apparently. Nikolai opened his door before the guest knock again, groaning when he caught sight of who it was. You were standing at his door - coat and boots discarded and your shirt haphazardly untied. You pushed past him and made yourself comfortable in his chair, smiling as he ran a hand over his face.

"Awhh, don't look too happy to see me, Sturmhond. Or should I say, Nikolai?" You'd taken to teasing him in the privacy of his room, where you were sure no one could hear you.

"What do you want, Mouse?"

"I just wanted to see how my dear Majesty was holding up. It has been a rough week for us all."

"Cut the bullshit. I know you're here to piss me off. Not tonight, Mouse. Please."

"Ooh. I like it when you beg. Do it again." You grinned at him. You knew you were getting under his skin.

"I said not tonight. Get out, Mouse. Go piss off some drunkard in a tavern." Nikolai said, nearly pushing you out of the door. "Maybe he can fuck the attitude out of you," he whispered under his breath.

"Make me."

"I'm sorry, what?" Nikolai said, turning around to face you again.

"I said, make me, Lantsov."

"I told you to stop fucking using that name," Nikolai growled, pushing you up against the wall, his arm pushing under your boob. You flushed pink, heat pooling in your stomach.

Nikolai grinned, "Oh, I see." He looked you up and down, scanning your figure. You could feel your underwear soak with every second of his gaze.

"What do you see, Captain? Need me to get you a spyglass. Could help you-" You were cut off by Nikolai's lips on yours. They were soft, gentle, and yet demanding at the same time. It was nice. This was nice.

"Is that what you wanted, Mouse? Attention from your Captain?" The honourific felt dirty coming from his mouth. You felt the desire to push him further - to piss him off until he gave you what you wanted. What you needed.

"Are you sure it's not what you wanted Captain? You seem to be a lot more excited by this than I am."

Nikolai nearly growled at that, attaching his lips to yours again, before slipping your belt off. He slipped his hands down to your core, feeling the wetness and smirking.

"Not as excited as me, huh?" He rubbed a circle around your clit and watched your defenses crumble. You grabbed a fistful of his jacket in your hand as your hips bucked away from him.

Nikolai lifted you up easily, depositing you on his desk, "I wanted to fuck you that day. When you hopped up on this desk and threatened me the first time. Should've done it. Should've shown you exactly who the boss is around here."

He grabbed the small knife he kept in his breast pocket off the desk and flicked it open. You gasped. Nikolai grazed the knife against the outside of your hip, slicing cleanly through your underwear. You were glad you'd taken off your stays earlier - you weren't sure if you could survive him ruining your most comfortable stays.

He placed a gentle kiss on your throat before pulling your shirt off. He gazed at you, momentarily starstruck, before latching his mouth onto your nipple. A hand came up to toy with the other, and you dissolved into a moaning mess.

He pulled away from your nipple to grin at your state. You looked at him breathlessly, grinning, "Is that all you've got, Lantsov."

His stare turned dark. He dove down and buried himself in your pussy. He licked and nipped, flicking your clit with his tongue. He played you like a well-tuned instrument. He fucked your hole with his tongue - alternating between stroking your walls with his tongue and sucking on your clit.

Your orgasm washed over you unexpectedly, sending waves of pleasure through your veins. You clamped your thighs around Nikolai's head, throwing your head back as you cried out.

Nikolai lifted his head up, eyes glinting dangerously, wetness smeared all around his lips. He looked devious. In that moment, he was not Nikolai Lantsov, spare to the Lantsov name, but Sturmhond, masterful privateer, Captain of Volkvolny. You loved him for it.

"You've caused me a lot of trouble, Mouse."

"What are you going to do about it?" You bit your lip, hiding a smirk.

He threw his coat off, carrying you towards his bed. You were lucky that no one else was on board - if they heard what was going on you'd never live it down.

Nikolai laid you on the bed, stripping his clothes off at extraordinary speed. He was quickly inside you, eliciting whimpers from you at every movement. He gave you a moment to adjust before he started to thrust. His hips snapped into you at an ungodly pace and it was all that you could do to not fall apart on his cock.

Nikolai grinned at your silence, his eyes scanning over you. Your face was blissed out, eyes rolling to the back of your head every so often. Sweat glistened on your skin, as you rocked forwards at the force of his every thrust. He couldn't help the small praises that fell from his lips as you moaned lowly.

"Look at you, so fucking beautiful under me, spread out for me like a whore. That's what you are, my beautiful little whore." You moaned at the filth dripping out of his mouth, "What's wrong, sweetheart? Have I fucked the little mouse stupid? No words left to taunt me now, huh?" You moaned softly, your mouth almost stuck in the shape of an 'O'. "Maybe I should do this more often, keep you quiet for longer." You nodded your head, head too foggy to come up with another smart-ass response.

Your second and third orgasms crashed over you in quick succession - Nikolai clamped his hand over your mouth as you screamed 'Nikolai' over and over again. He promised that next time he'd fuck that name out of your brain, before pulling out and cumming all over your chest.

You lay on his bed - dazed from the intense fucking you just received. You were surprised to find yourself alone in Nikolai's bed - he'd disappeared moments after cumming. He'd said something but you were still coming down from your last high when he moved away. You began to spiral. Of course, he was only fucking you to teach you a lesson - why else would he be interested in you? You idiot! He's the prince of fucking Ravka and the Captain of this ship. What do you have that would interest him, apart from your bratty mouth and attitude? He said it himself - the attitude pissed him off.

You were startled when something cold made contact with your chest. You looked up to find Nikolai with something in his hand - a wet washcloth, maybe? - and a sheepish grin on his face. He was still naked, his hair still tousled and his face still flushed. An involuntary beam broke out across your face. He didn't leave you after all.

Nikolai was taken by surprise at the tears that gathered on your lash line. He pulled you up into his chest when you were clean, sitting on the edge of his bed with you held tightly in his arms.

"Hey, hey, hey." He said, drawing mindless shapes on your back as tears streamed down your face, "What's wrong? Did I hurt you?" He was confused - surely, if he hurt you, you wouldn't be seeking comfort in him.

His heart slowed slightly when you shook your head, but the confusion remained.

"Talk to me, Mouse. What's going on in that pretty little head of yours?"

"It's stupid."

"It's not. If it matters to you, then it matters to me. Tell me, whatever it is, I'll fix it." Another wave of emotion washed over you. You climbed into his lap and he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his chest.

"I thought you were mad." You whispered quietly, almost hoping he wouldn't hear you and that he would let it go.

"Why would I be mad?"

"You left." You shrugged, "You left and I thought you were gone for good." He pressed a kiss to your temple and pulled your head into his chest.

"Oh, Mouse. For all your genius, you are oblivious." You looked up at him, confused. "I love you, Mouse. I always have." You shook your head, "What?"

"You're just saying that." You said, tears filling your lash line again as you tried to pull away, "You're just saying that 'cause you fucked me and you don't want me to leave." You tried to move out of his arms but he held you firmly. You hit his chest, trying to force yourself off him, but he stood his ground. Eventually, you just melted into his arms - he held you as you cried, hands stroking your hair soothingly.

You calmed down slowly, chest heaving as you tried to replenish your lungs. You stayed relaxed in his arms. He laid his head on top of yours. "Wanna tell me what that was about?"

You shook your head.

"Do you trust me?"

You nodded your head.

"Do you trust me enough to believe me when I say I love you?"

You hesitated.

"Well, we've found our problem."

"You don't love me."

"How do you know? You been inside my head? Pretty sure even Grisha can't do that." You chuckled.

"You hate me. You can't even look at me - let alone talk to me for long enough to fall in love with me."

"I can't look at you because if I start looking I'll never look away. I can't talk to you because I look like a fool every time I try and string two words together in front of you. Ask Tolya - he'll tell you how hopelessly in love with you I am. And for someone who's not interested in romance, he's a fucking hopeless romantic." His words involuntarily brought a smile onto your face.

You looked into his eyes, "You're sure you love me?"

"Honey, you drive me wild."

You nestled into his arms, and he leaned you both back onto the bed. Your head hit his pillow and suddenly you're surrounded by him. His arms wrap around you tightly, his pillow smells like him, his face is right next to yours. It's nice. Comforting.

You looked up into his face, studying his features while he slept. He was pretty - objectively. His face was long - pointy. Someone had done a terrible job of fixing his broken nose - but it seemed off at a second glance. He seemed so different than the paintings in the gallery - more difference than age alone could bring. His eyes were the giveaway - they were muddy green at first glance but under the right light and if you stared long enough, they were the same hazel green as the ones in the painting. You reached up to stroke his face. How long would this all last? How long until he wouldn't be able to play pretend anymore? How long until he had to go back to being Prince Nikolai Lantsov of Ravka? How long did you have with him in this beautiful bubble that you had created? You could already hear the rest of the crew filtering in from their nights out.

A hand came up to wrap around yours, "Sleep, Mouse. I'll still be here in the morning."

You smiled. He'd still be here in the morning.

fin.

[rubysunnday]

make a deal with the saints

summary: the water was pulling her down into its depths, into the darkness of death, and nothing Y/N did would let her rise to the surface. Nikolai, however, isn't ready to let her go yet.

a/n: this has been sat in the drafts for months, waiting for me to write it and tada

It was one of the worst storms Nikolai had been caught in. They usually managed to direct a storm around them with their Squallers and Tidemakers, but this time things had turned so fast there was nothing they could do.

If they’d had an army of Squallers and Tidemakers then maybe it would be possible. But they didn’t. The sailors were trying their best to keep the sails up and to tie ropes down. The Squaller’s were trying their best to keep the ship going but it was a losing battle.

Nikolai was gripping the wheel tightly, fighting against it as it tried to turn and spin out of control. His clothes were soaked through – he’d abandoned his coat down below, knowing the weight would only hold him back. Adrenaline was thrumming through his body.

He looked around the ship, eyes searching for a familiar sight. Nikolai felt panic claw at his throat for a moment. Then, he saw her. She was helping Tamar tie ropes down to the deck, ducking when yet another wave crashed over the side of the ship, drenching them all once again.

Y/N Orlova had joined his crew in Os Kervo, wanting to escape from the claustrophobic world of the Little Palace and learn more about her Squaller abilities. She’d been stuck driving the skiffs for months and yearned to see more of the world and to use her powers outside of the Fold.

She’d been with them for six months, now. Nikolai often wondered what he’d done before she’d arrived. She kept him grounded and calm even when things went out of control. He needed her more than he wanted to admit.

“The storm is moving on!” One of the Squallers yelled.

Which meant they’d soon be out the other side of it. Hopefully none the worse for wear.

Someone tapped his shoulder and he let them take over the wheel. He headed down to the main deck, struggling to maintain his balance as the ship tilted to the side.

Y/N seemed to sense his approach. She turned around, hair plastered to her head and smiled at him.

“How can you be smiling in this?” Nikolai yelled, almost falling forward to her.

Y/N shrugged. “I would rather this than the Fold!”

Nikolai couldn’t help but laugh. Despite the rain stinging his skin and the lighting forking above, he felt a spark of joy through him.

It was a spark that only Y/N could bring out. Her mere presence made life better for Nikolai. He laughed more when she was around, and he found himself gravitating towards her presence when they spent evenings below deck playing cards.

Whatever had been growing inside him over the last few months had begun to sprout. His heart was growing bigger and it hurt to know that, one day, it would inevitably have to end.

Y/N placed a hand over his and squeezed. “Are you okay?”

Nikolai blinked. He looked at her, slowly realising that she’d spoken. “Yeah, yeah,” he said quickly. “Just thinking.”

“Watch out!”

A rope had come loose from its cleat. Both Y/N and Nikolai ran forward, stopping the snaking rope before it tangled around someone’s ankle and dragged them into the water. Nikolai dragged it back up to the cleat and wrapped it around in a figure of eight until he was certain it wasn’t going to come lose again.

Nikolai stood and let out a breathy laugh as he glanced over at Y/N. She was panting, bent over with her hands on her knees. She straightened and smoothed her hair back again.

He met her gaze and smiled. It slowly fell as Y/N stared back at him, her eyes widening. Nikolai looked behind him and felt his heart stutter.

The wooden beam that was a part of one of the masts was swinging around toward them. Nikolai was shoved to the ground and, as he landed, he saw the mast hit Y/N and push her over the side of the boat and into the water.

Hitting the water felt like thousands of needles pricking her skin at once. Y/N couldn’t see anything. She didn’t know what was up or what was down. The force of the mast hitting her stomach had winded her. She was already struggling to breathe yet, now, in the depths of the ocean, the air wouldn’t come at all.

Her lungs were burning, her eyes were burning.

Y/N felt the waves toss her about, throwing her side to side, up and down. She felt her lungs tighten; her mind was screaming at her to breathe. There was nothing left. It was as if she was being crushed. The urge to exhale and inhale was overwhelming. Her chest was tight, demanding air be let in.

She obeyed.

The air gushed out, bubbles rising all around her. As soon as it gushed out, the water gushed in. It burnt her throat, her lungs. She was choking on the endless water pouring into her.

Until she wasn’t.

Calm swept over her. Even in the storm waters. Y/N looked up and, through the haze of the water and the blackness creeping in, she felt calm. Even as her body sunk lower, nothing could reach her but the calm.

Her eyes drifted closed, and bubbles escaped her lips and then… nothing.

His feet slipped on the deck as he scrambled to the side of the boat, leaning over, and staring into the water. His heart was pounding. His hands were shaking.

“Nikolai!” Tolya yelled, yanking him back from the side of the boat. He put a hand on the back of his neck and forced him to look at him. “You can’t go in there, not like this.”

Nikolai shoved him. “She’s drowning –“

“And so will you!” Tolya yelled, pushing him back.

Tamar appeared next to them, holding a coil of rope. “Here, tie this around your waist. We’ll haul you back in.”

Nikolai’s hands shook as he tried to tie the knot. Tolya silently took the rope from him and finished the knot, pulling it tight around his waist. Nikolai climbed up the side of the boat until he was standing on the very edge. He didn’t even hesitate before he jumped in.

He surfaced a wave instantly crashed over his head. For a moment, he struggled to fight against the water. Then, it calmed. Nikolai glanced up and saw one of his Tidemaker’s fighting with the waves, trying to calm it enough for him.

Nikolai took a deep breath in and dived below the water, eyes wide open, searching for Y/N. It probably would’ve made more sense to send Tamar or Tolya down – but his heart had taken over and he hadn’t thought.

The water calmed for a moment and in that precious moment, he saw her. Her body drifted in the water, completely at the mercy of the current. Nikolai grabbed her arm and pulled her body towards him. Once she was close enough, he wrapped his arm around her waist, holding on to her as tight as he dared.

Nikolai gasped as he surfaced, water dripping into his eyes. He didn’t remember how they got Y/N back onto the boat. One moment he was clutching on to her in the water and the next he was handing her body over to Tolya and falling over the side of the boat into a wet, heaving puddle.

Their healer, Iva, was instantly at Y/N’s side. A healer was invaluable to a certain extent. If their patient stopped breathing, or their heart stopped, their powers became useless. They could men bones and healing wounds – but getting a heart to start again? That was a Heartrender’s job.

“Tamar,” Iva called, searching the crowd for the woman.

Tamar appeared and rushed over, falling to her knees beside Y/N. “What do you need me to do?”

Iva glanced up at Nikolai for a moment. They looked back down at Y/N. “Get her heart going,” they replied.

Tamar put the first two fingers of her right hand over her left and held them above Y/N’s chest, concentration clear on her face. She pushed down, pressing against Y/N’s chest.

Nikolai hadn’t even realised Tolya was trying to calm his heart down until he put a hand on his chest. He looked up at Tolya, the tears running down his face mixing with the saltwater dripping from his hair.

Tolya grasped the back of his neck and lowered his forehead to Nikolai’s. No words needed to be spoken – they both knew what the other was feeling. Nikolai wasn’t even bothering to hide his emotions for Y/N.

Nikolai turned his head toward her. She was still lying on the deck. Her chest was still unmoving.

Deep down, a seed of doubt had begun to bloom. Doubt about whether she’d come back and, if she did, if there’d be irreparable damage. He was trying not to let the seed grow and burst into his heart but as he stared at her body – skin lacking colour, eyes closed, chest still – it was beginning to invade.

Then, Nikolai heard a groan. He turned his head sharply, relief setting in as Y/N coughed, water spilling over her lips. Tamar rolled her onto her side and rubbed her back gently. She glanced up at Nikolai and Tolya, a relieved smile on her face.

Nikolai slumped into Tolya, relief overwhelming him. Through the exhaustion seeping into his bones, Nikolai looked down at Y/N and caught her gaze. They looked at one another, silent. Y/N blinked slowly, and it was all Nikolai needed to know she was okay.

The sleeping quarters below deck were quiet. Most people were asleep whilst some remained awake, taking shifts to watch the ocean and horizon, keeping them on the right path.

Nikolai walked down the steps from the upper deck to down below and poked his head in the doorway, letting his eyes adjust to the candlelit darkness. He walked forward, his footsteps as quiet as he could make them against the floor.

Tamar looked up from her book as he approached. She gave him a tired smile, marking her place before closing the book.

“How are you?” Nikolai asked softly.

Tamar nodded. “Tired,” she admitted. Carefully, she reached out and threaded her fingers through Nikolai’s. She squeezed. “How are you?”

At the question, Nikolai allowed himself to look over to the bunk where Y/N lay asleep. She was buried under blankets but there was colour on her face again. Even under the mounds of wool and cotton, he could see her chest moving.

“Fine now,” Nikolai whispered, his voice breaking slightly. Tamar ran her thumb along the back of his hand. His breath shuddered as he inhaled. “I thought I’d lost her.”

With one tug, Tamar pulled him down onto the crate next to her. She put an arm around his shoulders and pulled him as close as she could.

“But you didn’t,” she said firmly. “She is still here. She is still alive. As are you, Nik.” Tamar pressed a kiss to his temple. “You need to tell her the truth about your emotions. Now you know, now you have felt the fear – don’t wait.” She smiled at him. “Don’t hide from your feelings, Nikolai. They are what set you apart from anyone else I know.”

Tamar stood up, squeezing his hand once more before letting go. She walked out the room, pulling the door closed behind her.

Nikolai took her seat, moving as close to the bunk as he could. Y/N’s hand was just poking out from under the blankets. Nikolai reached forward and took it in his, holding it as if it were the most precious gem he’d ever seen.

Y/N shifted on the bunk, rolling further over onto her side. Slowly, her eyes opened, and she squinted slightly at the light as she looked up at Nikolai.

“Hi,” she whispered, her voice hoarse and quiet.

“Hey.” Nikolai leant forward. He brushed her hair back from her forehead, tucking it behind her ear. There was an unusual gentleness to his actions – they’d been this affectionate before but… this time it was different.

“Are you okay?”

Nikolai blinked. He laughed softly. “You drowned and almost died, yet you’re asking me how I am?” He sighed, letting his thumb brush across her cheekbone. “I’m fine, darling. How are you?”

“I’m cold still,” Y/N replied. She snuggled further down into the blankets. “My throat hurts as does my chest but… I’m alive.” She fell quiet for a moment, gazing up at Nikolai. “You look like shit, Lanstov.”

Nikolai burst out laughing. He shook his head as the laughter faded, the smile remaining. “You scared me, Y/N. Truly scared me. I’m so used to having you around that suddenly imagining life without you…” His smile faded slightly.

“I am a good friend,” Y/N said, nodding, her tone semi-sarcastic. “You’ve trained me well. I can imagine how difficult it would be to train a new friend again.” Y/N frowned at the silence that followed. Nikolai lowered his gaze. “Nik?”

“It wasn’t just that,” Nikolai replied. He closed his eyes for a moment. “Since we met, I’ve felt this… pull to you.”

“Nik, you’re sounding like Tolya.”

Nikolai snorted. “Yeah, I’m not great at this.” He sighed, dragging a hand through his hair. “I don’t know how to say this.”

“Okay,” Y/N curled closer to him, “just… splurge. Doesn’t matter if it doesn’t make sense.”

And that was it. Nikolai knew, then, that it was her calmness, her ability to see through the haze of his mind and just know what he wanted to say or do. He could be spiralling out of control and Y/N would be the one thing keeping him on the ground.

That was why he loved her.

“I can’t live my life without you,” Nikolai said abruptly. “You ground me in ways no one else can. The entire world could be spiralling out of control, but you’ll be the calm in the storm.” He chuckled. “I remember when I had a bad night a few months ago. I’d tossed and turned and then given up, going up on to deck to watch the stars. Everything was haunting me – the crown, my people, my family. You found me on deck and just talked at me for an hour, distracting me from my thoughts until I’d calmed down.

“When I pulled you from the water, I was terrified that… that I’d pulled your body out but not your soul. That it was still in the water, sinking further and further down. The world stopped as I watched Tamar and Iva work. I think Tolya was worried I’d collapse on him. But the moment you opened your eyes and looked at me, my world started moving again. And I realised that… I love you in so many ways, I can’t put them all into words.”

If Y/N was taken aback by the abrupt revelation, she didn’t show it. Her face was calm, betraying nothing.

Nikolai laughed softly, shaking his head. “I know I am a prince, Y/N. I know there are rules and laws. I know that one day I will be king. Loving me isn’t easy, I know. Being with me isn’t easy. But… I just…”

Nikolai trailed off, words failing him.

Y/N propped herself up onto her elbow, dislodging the blankets around her. She took both of Nikolai’s hands with hers, running her thumbs along the back of them. Nikolai looked at her. Her gaze was intense. It was warm. It was understanding.

“I knew who I was becoming friends with, Nik,” Y/N said gently. “Prince Nikolai Lanstov – heir to the Ravkan throne. I knew what it would come with and how hard it will be. And I know loving you will be even harder.” Nikolai couldn’t breathe. Y/N squeezed his hands. “Yet I will gladly fight the battles if it means I get to wake up next to you in the morning. I will stand behind you if it means I can hold your hand in the shadows. I will be your consort if it means I can love you for however long we live for.”

Nikolai stared at her. Everything he’d wanted to say, she’d said perfectly. Everything he’d thought, he’d felt – she’d spoken it aloud.

“I know who I fell in love with, Nikolai,” Y/N said, watching him intently. She smiled, placing a hand on the side of his face. “I wanted to say something but… I thought it best if I waited for you. In case it wasn’t reciprocated. In case it wasn’t what you wanted.”

It was hard to confess your love. It was even harder when it was a prince. Nikolai knew this. He knew that whoever he fell in love with, would have to sacrifice everything to be with him. Yet here was Y/N, opening her heart whilst fully understanding the consequences.

“Are you going to kiss me now, princeling?”

Nikolai laughed and leant forward, capturing her lips with his. She kissed him back, pressing into him, her hand wrapping around the back of his neck and holding him. They broke apart, resting their foreheads together, breathing heavily.

“Queen Y/N and King Nikolai does have a ring to it,” Y/N whispered into his ear.

Nikolai pulled back, his brow furrowing even as he smiled. “Why are you first? Surely it should be King Nikolai and Queen Y/N.”

“Because.” She pressed her lips to his again, smiling. “I want it that way.”

[downbadf0rficppl]

still here in the evening

Nikolai Lantsov x Reader

Summary: Part 2 of still here in the morning - Nikolai's mad at you. You don't know why. Maybe an injury will help secrets come to life?

Word Count: 2.2K

Warnings: Violence - guns, gangs and bullets, Blood, Injury, Misunderstandings.

The wind whipped through your hair as you looked out over the deck. You were less than half a day’s travel away from West Ravka - where you’d dock and stock up on supplies before heading back out to Novyi Zem.

You sighed. The past few weeks had been weird - ever since you and Nikolai had woken up together, he’d been ignoring you. It was almost as if you’d ceased to exist for him. No matter. Things should be back to normal after this stop in West Ravka. You could both forget it ever happened. 

It was almost midnight when you finally tethered the ship to a dock in Os Kervo. Tamar and Tolya grabbed your arms and practically dragged you to a local inn to celebrate. You’d had a lot of successful missions over the past few months, and just because the Captain was opposed to any kind of revelry, doesn’t mean you should be. 

You knew the truth. Nikolai was too scared of being discovered here in West Ravka - where people still knew what the monarchy looked like, even if they had been hidden away on the other side of the fold for years. Still, you let Tamar and Tolya drag you away and had a few beers to celebrate. Maybe more than a few beers. 

Meanwhile, Nikolai was sat at his desk on the ship, nursing a pint of ale. He’d tried to distract himself with work - checking the ship’s logs and inventory, making a detailed list of everything they needed before they set off on their next adventure. This would be their longest trip yet, and they were going to need a lot of supplies, especially if they kept picking up new teammates. It wasn’t enough.

His mind kept drifting back to you. Mouse. His Mouse. Nikolai couldn’t recall when you went from being just another shipmate, to the only person who was ever on his mind, but he wasn’t complaining. Still, the words that passed between you and Tolya rung clear in his head.

“He’s no one… Someone from back home.” You didn’t like him like that. You were waiting from someone back home.

Nikolai shook his head trying to clear his mind. Obviously, a girl like you had someone waiting for them back home. That was why you chose to take an extra long pit stop every time you were back on Zemeni soil. It was obvious, wasn’t it? He turned back to his logs, trying to catalogue everything they had done over the past few months since they had been here in Os Kervo. 

He had thought you were the one. The past few weeks had been difficult, trying to avoid conversation with you, trying to avoid being under your gaze. Nikolai knew that he had no self-control when it came to you - one look in his direction and he’d crumble again. And he deserved better than someone who just used him to ‘break his 'I don't sleep with crewmates' rule.’

He should’ve known something was up when you disappeared from his bed in the middle of the night, he thought, putting his journals away for safe-keeping and taking another swig of his ale. People don’t just disappear when they actually like someone.

He just didn’t think you capable of leading someone on so maliciously.

But maybe he read the signs wrong. You never explicitly said you wanted to sleep with him, did you? Nikolai racked his brains for anything you’d said to give him that impression, but nothing came to mind. Maybe his own feelings clouded his judgment. 

Nikolai took another swig of his ale. The light buzz that accompanied every thought of you now made him reckless. Nikolai clenched his jaw, determination etched across his face, as he set out towards the bar where Tamar and Tolya had taken you, his mind racing with concern and unresolved questions. The dimly lit streets of Os Kervo blurred around him. He just wanted to get to you.

You slipped out of the bar, your heart pounding in your chest as you tried to keep your steps light and silent. Tamar and Tolya were relentless, always watching, trying to stop you from seeing Nikolai. They insisted that he wasn’t worth your time, that he was just in a bad mood, though they wouldn’t tell you why. 

The moon hung high and cold above the narrow streets of Os Kervo, casting long shadows in the alleys. You didn’t dare look back, afraid that one glance would reveal your escape to Tamar and Tolya. The bar’s raucous laughter and clinking glasses faded behind you, swallowed by the city’s nighttime murmurs. 

You turned a corner, your mind racing with thoughts of Nikolai. What had you done to deserve his wrath? Every attempt to remember came up empty, a frustrating blur of confusion. You didn't see the men until it was too late.

A flash of metal, the sound of a gun cocking—it snapped you out of your reverie. You stumbled, your boot catching on the uneven cobblestones, and you fell to your knees just as the first shot rang out. The alley exploded into chaos, bullets whizzing past you, ricocheting off the brick walls.

"Get down!" someone shouted, but the voice was lost in the cacophony. You scrambled to your feet, ducking low and trying to find cover. Two rival gangs, by the looks of it, were locked in a deadly exchange, their faces twisted with rage and fear.

You pressed yourself against the wall, breathing hard, your eyes scanning for an escape route. Another shot grazed the wall near your head, sending a shower of brick dust into your face. You wiped your eyes, blinking rapidly, and saw an opening—a narrow gap between two buildings, barely wide enough for a person.

Without thinking, you dashed for it, your heart pounding in your ears. A sharp pain tore through your shoulder, and you gasped, stumbling but not stopping. You squeezed into the gap, your shoulder screaming in protest, and kept moving, pushing through until you spilled out onto another street.

The shootout was behind you, the sounds of gunfire muffled by the buildings. You leaned against the wall, panting, clutching your shoulder. Blood seeped through your fingers, warm and sticky.

You collapsed to the ground, arm still covering the wound on your torso, but you couldn’t keep your body up any longer. You were close to the docks. Someone would find you. 

“Hey, hey, hey…” A familiar voice floated across the heaviness, bouncing around in the back of your head. “Don’t move. I’ve got you.”

What did he say? Why couldn’t you move? You didn’t try though, instead nuzzling into the warmth of their hand. 

“…didn’t hit anything important, you’re okay…”

What didn’t hit anything important?

“You’ll be fine. We’ll get you back to the ship and get you right.” A warm hand pressed down on your abdomen, putting pressure. A sharp pain cut through the fuzziness in your mind. Your eyes met familiar muddy green ones. Ones that you knew all to well.

Everything came rushing back, your train of thought screeching back into coherence, and you gasped, face pressed against a warm shoulder. Nikolai’s shoulder. Pain flared in your abdomen like lightning, and you cried out, gripping Nikolai’s arm. 

“Easy, now, sweetheart,” he grunted, gathering you further into his arms as his hand turned more and more red. “Can’t have you move right now.”

Fuck, it hurt. You let out a small whine as Nikolai adjusted his hand. This pain was unlike you’d never felt before - you’d been stabbed before but it didn’t hurt like this.

“Nik- I- I…-” you stammered.

“Hey, it’s okay, mouse. You’re okay. Just focus on breathing.”

You bit down another cry, forcing air out through your nose, burying your head further into his shoulder.

“Good, that’s good… Can I move my hand, mouse?”

You caught a glimpse of him ripping off a section of his shirt - somewhere in the back of your mind, you were disappointed. You liked that shirt. It was a shame to ruin it.

“Nik, it- fuck…” You were really feeling it now, warm and sticky blood seeping down your stomach. Nikolai tried to tie the strip of fabric as tight as he could but the pain seemed to deepen with every movement, spreading up through your torso to the rest of your body, and you gritted your teeth to halt a pained scream.

Nikolai glanced down at your fear-stricken face with a mix of guilt and shame, but quickly offered you a tight-lipped smile. “Nothing new to us, huh, sweetheart?”

The nickname wasn’t lost on you, but you didn’t have the energy to comment on it. You felt woozy again, as if you were slowly floating away from your body. His muddy green eyes were getting harder and harder to focus on, your body begging for the respite of unconsciousness.

Nikolai moved quickly, carefully lifting you into his arms, his expression tightening as you winced. Despite the urgency, his touch was gentle, his concern evident in every movement. The streets of Os Kervo blurred past him as he made his way to the ship, his mind racing with worries and questions.

By the time you reached the ship, Tamar and Tolya were already there, alerted by some unspoken bond or perhaps just the unmistakable sense of something gone wrong. Tamar’s eyes widened when she saw you, and she immediately set to work, her hands moving quickly as she tried to staunch the bleeding and mend the torn flesh.

“They need to rest,” Tamar said, her voice firm despite the strain of her efforts. “They’ve lost a lot of blood.”

Nikolai nodded, his face a mask of controlled emotion. He watched as Tamar worked, feeling a knot of anxiety tightening in his chest. The thought of losing you, without ever understanding why you had caused him such pain, was unbearable. As Tamar finished and stepped back, Tolya helped her move you to a more comfortable position.

Nikolai paced the small cabin, his thoughts a whirlwind. He needed answers, but for now, he needed to be prepared for the worst. Turning to the twins, he took a deep breath. “I need to ask you about their… person back home,” he said, his voice low and urgent. “In case they don't make it.”

Tamar and Tolya exchanged confused glances. “Their person?” Tolya echoed, frowning.

Nikolai nodded, frustration creeping into his tone. “I overheard the three of you talking. They mentioned someone. If something happens, we need to know who to contact.”

Tamar's eyes narrowed slightly as she tried to recall. Then, a look of realisation dawned on her face. “Oh, you mean Nikolai.”

Nikolai’s heart skipped a beat, but he kept his face impassive. “What do you know about him?”

“Not much,” Tamar admitted, glancing at Tolya, who nodded in agreement. “Just that his name is Nikolai. They mentioned him once, but not in detail.”

Nikolai’s mind raced, connecting the dots. They didn’t know. They had no idea that the Nikolai you spoke of was him—Sturmhond, the privateer. He felt a strange mix of relief and guilt. Relief that his identity remained safe, but guilty that all of this had been a misunderstanding. “Thank you,” he said finally, his voice softer. “That’s… helpful.”

Tamar frowned, sensing his unease but not pressing further. “They’ll pull through,” she said confidently, more to reassure herself than anyone else. “They’re strong.”

Nikolai nodded absently, his gaze fixed on your pale face. As the night deepened, he slumped into the chair, needing to be near you, so he could apologise.

When you next awoke, the pain was pretty much gone, and you were decidedly not dead. It was a good start.

You were lying in a bed. For a second, the sun filtered through the windows and you thought you were in your bed. All the way back home in Novyi Zem. Your sister would run in in a moment asking for you to make her tea - you did it the best, not too milky and not too sweet. You opened your eyes to the sight of dark wooden panels. You were on the ship. The bed was familiar, though. The last time you were in it, a warm heavy arm had been resting across your chest. Your heart ached at the thought.

You looked over to the sight. The Captain was curled up in an armchair next to the bed, head cupped in his palm, his hair, loose and unkempt, clearly having had a hand run through it over and over. He must have nodded off at some point during the night. You were happy to see him sleep - he looked so calm and peaceful, unlike the past few weeks. 

His eyes fluttered awake, almost as if he felt your gaze over him. His flickered to your covered waist before meeting your eyes. His gruff expression melted into one more sympathetic, and he reached out to squeeze your hand.

"You're still here?" You croaked. 

"I promised you I'd still be here in the afternoon."

fin.

[undiscovered-horizon]

"Embroidery" - Kaz Brekker x Reader

SUMMARY: Gloves are important to Kaz - it's the only way he can relatively safely interact with the outside world. They are also slightly more privileged than you as they can accompany him anytime and anywhere. To aid this inequality, you stitch a white primrose onto one of his gloves: Someone waits for you to come back.

WORDCOUNT: ~ 1.2k

>>Grishaverse-inspired playlist<<

☽ REQUESTS ARE OPEN ☾

There was something wicked in your patient anticipation for this moment like a predator that seems to have all the time in the world while waiting for the prey to breathe its final breath. But contrary to a pouncing lion, you had to remain inconspicuous until your plan has been brought to life. That shouldn’t come as a surprise - Kaz Brekker is a lot more wary than a dying gazelle. 

You’re used to Kaz being somewhat restless and uneasy but today he’s jumpy. Usually, when he comes to visit you at your home, he allows you to come incredibly close to him and he doesn’t shy away from touching you. This time, however, something’s wrong. Unintentionally, he’s holding one of his hands away from his body - the same way one does upon cutting their finger. Hanging his coat and hat, he’s using mostly only one of his hands as though he did hurt himself earlier that day. Then, when you reach out to help him, Kaz suddenly flinches away from you.

With eyebrows knitted close together, you’re watching his bizarre act. Over the time you’ve known him, he’s come to you bloodied and beaten but never… averse. That’s when you notice the tiniest detail that, truthfully, you’ve been waiting to appear but maybe without this whole strange change in his demeanour: his left glove is pierced through, revealing pasty skin underneath.

“There's a hole in your glove,” you state. You’ve imagined this very scene so many times, you simply have to play your part perfectly in spite of the excitement bubbling in your chest.

Kaz gives you a quick glance but it's enough for you to notice the nervousness and uneasiness in his eyes. He’s clearly on edge, barely clinging to sanity. “I’m aware,” he answers in a shaky voice.

“Let me fix it for you.”

“I can do this myself, thank you.”

“Come on, I can tell you’ve been through a lot already. When was the last time you ate? Or slept?”

Kaz clenches his jaw. Reluctantly, he takes off his left glove and hands it to you. In a vain effort to appear a lot more laid-back than he truly is, he puts his bare palm into the pocket of his pants.

“It’ll be over before you know it.”

You disappear around the corner, leaving him to his own devices. Without anything better to do, too restless and shaken up, Kaz just sits down on the edge of the sofa. He rests his elbows on his knees and places his chin atop his fists, staring into the corridor you have just disappeared in.

After a moment, his eyes begin to wander around the living room. What caught his eye the first time he came here is the amount of knick-knacks gathering dust. Windowsill, table, mantlepiece, windowed cupboards - items he’s never seen moved or used. For the longest time he couldn’t understand why you’d leave this clutter around but the better he’s got to know you, the more he understood. All of those useless things are like postcards sent by the people you care about: ‘Life goes on and maybe we don’t talk as much as we used to but I’m thinking about you’. There was a time when Kaz felt envious of the knick-knacks as their immovable character is to your life like a scar is to skin. But then he realized his position is much better. He’s here, after all. His presence in your life can not be limited to a porcelain doll or a cross-stitch of the port in Os Kervo. Kaz is not a scar but more a knife that’s still slicing open a wound. Maybe he’s even more than that - maybe he’s a blade piercing and penetrating your body. And the only way to live is to leave the knife in to stop the bleeding, despite the pain it brings.

Thinking about knives and porcelain dolls, he doesn’t notice you come back at first. Only when you speak up does he shake away from his slightly macabre thoughts:

“I fixed your glove.”

In a strangely panicked manner, Kaz almost snatches back his garment. He’s quickly putting in on and when he turns his wrist to examine your sewing, his breath hitches in his throat.

He recognizes the flower almost immediately. The white and yellow petals make him remember a painting he’s seen somewhere, although Kaz can’t be sure where exactly but that doesn’t matter. What he is certain of, however, is the scenery presented on the canvas: an army marching out of Os Alta. Women run after men in uniforms, shoving white primroses in their hands. Silently, they beg the Saints, generals and kings to let their husbands, fathers and sons return home safely. Maybe a frail flower is nowhere near enough to protect a soldier from a Fjerdan or a Shu Han highlander but it’s the only thing they can do for the men they love so desperately.

“A little silly, I know,” you interrupt the tense silence. “I just wanted you to have something to remind you of me.”

What a stupid thought, that he could ever forget you.

Kaz clears his throat. “Thank you,” he answers slightly awkwardly. He wants to say something meaningful to you, make it known that not only does he understand your thoughtful gesture but he also shares the sentiment: ‘As long as you’ll have me, I’ll always come back. Even if I have to cross the world tenfold or fight death itself,’  he wishes to say, ‘The days I spent without you are mere existence, not living.’ Nonetheless, Kaz can’t force words of vulnerability past his lips.

For a moment he thinks a shadow of disappointment dances across your beautiful face. It pains him, even if untrue. If only he could make his doting known…

“Anytime,” you say casually with a slight shrug of shoulders.

Time seems to slow down significantly as he’s watching you smile softly at him and promptly leave the room, heading to the kitchen to make tea. If he could, he’d spend entire days just watching you calmly go about your life. Sometimes, when he’s staring at you doing mundane things, he swears he can almost figure out why he’s so drawn towards you as though his downfall began with the way you hold the bread knife or carefully stir your coffee. One day he’ll know how come you’ve tied and bonded his very soul to you, he’s sure of it. 

He looks down at the glove again. The small, white flower makes his chest sting. Maybe there is, after all, a way for him to show you his devotion without using words.

If Kaz Brekker was a better man, he’d think of the white primrose as a reminder to be careful and wary, to choose his battles wisely. Alas, he’s nothing short of a crook and the flower begs him to be callous and merciless, to become feral and willing to do absolutely anything to find his way back to you; like raging seas that relentlessly wash tall cliffs until the soil gives in and landslide falls into the deep, dark abyss. 

He can’t be a lighthouse so he settles for a wildfire.

[amsgrey]

Need Help?

kaz brekker x reader

synopsis: Kaz helps you get ready for a job, lost in the moment he forgets his anxiety and stays present.

warnings: other than bad writing? not much.

authors note: I have had terrible writer's block lately, so here is this terrible story that has been in my drafts for weeks. I will be doing my best to fix it but man it is not easy.

Kaz woke you early one morning, knocking sharply on the door. He knocked once, waiting for any sounds behind the door before he struck again.

You sleepily opened the door, ready to tell Jesper to get lost. Realizing it was your boss, not the sharpshooter, you stuttered over your words.

"I need you and Nina for a job."

You followed his instructions, waking up Nina and forcing her to join you on the job to Little Ravka.

Before you had left the slat Kaz had ordered the two of you to not get sidetracked, with no stops on the way to Little Ravka and no detours on the way back. Nina had quietly mumbled about Kaz being no fun and you knew then you would spend the time steering her away from food vendors.

Walking down the Ravkan market had been the hardest. Nina had told you about this place, but seeing it for the first time was nothing like hearing about it. Like Os Kervo's markets, Nina had told you. She had explained the time she spent there in-depth, the afternoons walking through the markets with her friends.

Nina let out a tiny gasp, snatching your hand and dragging you along behind as she approached a stall. You could see what she was fixated on, a pastry dusted in sugar.

Nina ignored your protests, ordering two of the desserts and paying the vendor quickly. The girl handed one to you, nodding for you to try it.

“Why are you so obsessed with these?” You asked as you walked back through Ketterdam.

“Because they’re brilliant,” Nina said like it was the most obvious answer.

You laughed, watching her brush icing sugar off her nose.

“They are good,” You agreed, “I see why you love them so much.”

Nina beamed, “And Brekker said stops weren’t worth it.”

Kaz would not be happy. You knew when the two of you strolled into the slat the boy would see the crumbs - no matter how many times you would brush down your clothes - and chastise you about the detour.

At some point halfway through the Zelvar district, you decided you didn’t much care. Kaz was sour about many things, he would act annoyed for a while and then see how you grinned in defiance and let it go. Besides, you all knew this errand was hardly one of high stakes.

You were surprised to walk into the slat and see Kaz not at all surprised at your lateness. He took one look at the two grinning crows and rolled his eyes.

“Enjoy yourself?”

“Yup,” Nina replied, planting herself in the chair next to Matthias.

You sat on Kaz's right, looking over the map of the Financial district Kaz was scrutinizing.

“Why do you need a tailor?” You asked, thinking about the message you and Nina left at the cafe in Little Ravka.

Kaz spared you a glance, taking in the furrow of your brow as you studied the map.

"For the job," Was Kaz's blunt reply.

“What did Nina convince you to stop for?”

You turned to Wylan, "I would have stopped too."

Nina’s face broke into a grin, “No one can resist sweets.”

“What is it like?” Wylan continued.

“It’s pastry,” Kaz replied, fixing Wylan with a glower.

You laughed, “It’s not just pastry, Brekker.”

Nina launched into an explanation while you looked back over the map. You brushed off some of Wylans pencil shavings from when he completed it.

“What are you thinking?” You asked Kaz, trying to see what he was scrutinizing.

Kaz looked from the map to you, muttering about his plans.

You and Kaz didn’t realize that the conversation had lulled around them, the other crows watching the two sit close together hunched over the map and scribbling notes.

Inej tapped Jesper's shoulder, no one had realized the wraith had even appeared, “Scheming face.”

Jesper laughed, breaking You and Kaz from your concentration, “Definitely scheming faces.”

You pouted, “I don’t scheme.”

Kaz corralled everyone into his office later in the evening of that day. He let everyone know the building that was on the map was holding a Gala that night, and there was a target you needed to reach.

As always, Kaz's plans had layers and twists that he didn't reveal to everyone. Trying to follow along with what he wanted everyone to do was sometimes impossible, so you were glad he explained it slowly for everyone.

"Whose going as a guest?" Jesper asked, having been already assigned fake driver duty.

"Matthias and Y/N," Kaz replied.

You started to protest, but Kaz didn't listen.

"You will be posing as Mr and Mrs Mjelde. You two look like them."

You and Matthias looked at each other, wearing matching frowns. You hadn't worked with Matthias before, but you trusted Kaz enough to have faith in his plan. Kaz explained how you both could pass as the Frejdan-Kerch couple, mostly because of the resemblance you had to the couple. When you had asked why Nina couldn't be Mrs Mjelde, Kaz waved it off with "I need her somewhere else".

After Kaz had given everyone their assignments and explained the target, you remembered the job he had sent you and Nina earlier that day.

"So why do we need a tailor?" You asked.

"Mrs Mjelde has shorter hair than you," Kaz replied, "I thought you would rather tailor yourself to look different than cutting your hair."

Your chest constricted, Kaz had put extra care into making you feel comfortable on this job.

"Well too bad there aren't any available Tailors in Ketterdam," Nina sighed, already hearing from her fellow Grisha that the only slightly knowledgable tailor had left the city a week ago.

Kaz frowned, trying to come up with an alternative plan.

"I can just cut my hair," You said.

"You love your hair," Jesper replied.

You shrugged, "No harm in a change every now and again."

Everyone seemed slightly surprised, but no one said anything to challenge you. Kaz ordered everyone to prepare for the job, Jesper and Nina had to slip away to get the disguises for the night, leaving the rest of you to prepare in the Slat.

You had borrowed the scissors Kaz used to cut his hair, the same ones you used not two weeks ago to cut his hair. You sat in front of your mirror, it was perched haphazardly on your small dresser. You stared at your reflection, trying to work up the courage to cut your own hair.

"Need help?"

You could see Kaz in the reflection, standing in the doorway like you had not long ago. You felt suddenly self-conscious, breaking eye contact and running your fingers through your hair to try distract yourself.

Kaz stepped into your room, closing the door behind him. Your tiny room felt cramped with only you in it, now it felt claustrophobic. Kaz leant his cane against your bedframe, coming to stand behind you. You felt unease build in your chest, unable to say a word. You felt at ease in Kaz's room, lazing on his bed or bothering him while he worked. But now that he was in your room, it felt strangely more intimate.

Kaz slipped his hands out of his gloves, placing them in front of you on the dresser. He held his hand to you, waiting for you to give him the scissors.

"We don't have all evening," Kaz said, rather bluntly.

You laughed, a stupid smile greeting Kaz in the mirror. You didn't much mind Kaz's bluntness, in fact, you had grown to love it. Once you learnt he never meant any harm - to you most specifically - you grew to appreciate how he cared little about sugarcoating anything. At times he was cruel, but never with you.

You let Kaz take the scissors from you, he turned them over in his hands. Once. Twice. You watched him in the mirror, as he finally decided on his action. He ran his fingers through your hair like you had done to him. His fingernails raked along your scalp, pulling fly-away strands from your face. He began to work on your hair, combing it away from your face with his fingers then cutting it slowly, methodically.

You were both silent as he worked, you could only watch in awe as he took such care. His brows were furrowed, much like they always were. But his eyes weren't piercing or angry, they were gentle and kind. He was so concentrated on what he was doing that his mask fell. It was the first time since that night in his room that you saw Kaz Reitveld again.

When Kaz was almost done, you finally shifted your gaze from Kaz behind you to your hair. Jesper was right, you did love your hair and you had been reluctant to change it. It felt a little easier knowing it was Kaz who was cutting your hair, Kaz who was helping you change.

Kaz stayed close when he was done, running his fingers through your hair again. His fingers ran through your hair, then rested on the bare skin of your neck. It was like you were both stuck in a trance. Making eye contact through the mirror. Kaz was taking deep breaths, not removing his hands from your skin.

You looked away, "I should go see Nina."

Kaz nodded, watching you stand up from your chair and brush down your clothes. He took a small step back, entranced by the way your hair now perfectly framed your face.

You looked up to see his staring, a faint smirk on his face.

"See something you like, Brekker?"

Kaz chuckled, "Maybe."

He took another step forward, reaching up and tugging on a strand of your hair. You smiled, offering your thanks for his help.

Kaz nodded, silent while he looked over your face. You could feel his breath over your cheek. From this close, you could see the flecks in his irises. You glanced from his eyes to his lips, the silent question hanging between you. You both knew that Kaz wouldn't be the first to instigate a kiss; you had been close before but never as close as that night in his room.

Kaz felt like he couldn't breathe, watching you look at him with so much faith, so much devotion. He hadn't seen anyone look at him like that since Jordie died. In The Barrel, it wasn't like people were willing to get close to him, not that he ever let them. Kaz trusted you, too, as a crow and someone he could love. He had a hard time showing that, in fact, he never showed it.

You ignored the doubts running through your head, leaning forward and pressing your lips to Kaz's. You pulled away quickly like a child having their first kiss. The last thing you wanted to do was overwhelm the man before you.

Kaz snaked his fingers into your hair, pulling you closer and kissing you again.

You were struck by how sweet Kaz tasted, like Hopjes. He cupped your cheek gently, pulling away hesitantly. He smirked, enjoying being close to you without the debilitating panic that usually forced him away.

"Y/N!' Nina knocked on the door, "Saint's sake, have you finished yet?"

Kaz pulled away, both of you snapping out of the trance and fumbling around the other. You had to slip past Kaz to get to the door, trying to ignore how close the two of you were. You threw the door open to see Nina, standing impatiently with the dress for the job tossed over her arm. Nina could no doubt see Kaz standing behind you in your room, his face no doubt flushed as it always was when the two of you were caught close by another crow.

With everything finally in place, you forced yourself down the stairs to greet the crows. The ridiculous shoes you had to wear made climbing down the stairs harder than you liked, you had to rely heavily on the ballestraid so you wouldn't fall down.

At the bottom of the stairs, Matthias was scowling at Jesper and Wylan, who were making fun of his formal attire. He looked as miserable as you, constantly adjusting the collar of his shirt and blazer to try get comfortable.

"Hey gorgeous," Jesper greeted, throwing his arm over your shoulders and pulling you into a side hug.

You jabbed your finger into his ribs, getting him off you. "Don't call me that when I'm dressed like an idiot."

Jesper rolled his eyes, "That was rude."

Kaz finally joined you all, leaving his office and pausing a few paces away from you all. You could see how he took in what you were wearing, the subtle makeup covering your eyes and the fake jewels resting on your collarbones. You tried not to flush when you noticed his gaze linger on the buttons of your bodice.

Nina was staring at you, giving you a knowing look. You waved her off, pulling your cloak around your dress.

"Everyone knows the plan?" Kaz asked.

There was a chorus of yes'.

"Then let's get to it."

[swanimagines]

COLOURS OF THE BEYOND | NIKOLAI LANTSOV

Summary: Bumping into a man at the Novyi Zem market led to something you weren't expecting.

When you began your run from Os Kervo and set sail to a new land you had never before seen, you hadn’t known what to expect. But Novyi Zem was beautiful. All the colors, the smell of food at the street and beautiful handcrafted items and jewelry constantly left you standing in front of stalls, chatting with vendors. And after it had gone on for a few stops, you turned to Mal and Alina, nodding towards the inn. “I’ll catch up.”

“Alright,” Alina replied. “I’ll tell them that you’ll be coming later.” They then smiled at each other before continuing on as you began wandering through the aisles.

“Can I offer you a piece of my family’s hermit cake, my dear?” an old lady asked behind one of the stalls, and you faltered for a moment. In Ravka, you’d immediately think it’s filled with something that would drug you, but something in this lady told you she was being genuine, and you excitedly nodded.

She handed you a piece of it, and you took it, taking a careful bite before you felt like you just stepped into some form of food heaven, raising a hand over your mouth. The old woman chuckled at your heart eyes and you began digging your pouch. “How much?”

“For you? Nothing, we’re just glad to see a foreigner being so enchanted by our culture. If you want another piece, it’s two neredi,” she smiled and you blinked at her before nodding, handing her the two coins and getting a piece on the go.

As you took a bite and turned away, you were collided with something and immediately spit your cake piece out, flailing for a moment before you could register you actually bumped with a man who was standing behind you. “I’m so sorry! I should have watched where I go.”

The man brushed his coat before raising his eyes on you, and before you could sputter out another string of apologies, you were met with the most gorgeous man you had ever seen, and words just got stuck in your throat.

“No harm done,” he replied with a smirk, and you blinked at him for a few times before laughing a little.

“I’m just… so amazed by all these colours. It’s everything Ra- Kerch doesn’t have. I guess I lost my ability to look where I’m going.” You smiled, fumbling with your scarf. His gaze made your face really warm, you noticed.

He smirked. “Well, I'm glad you did. Because otherwise I wouldn’t have seen that beautiful smile of yours.”

Your face heated up even more and you laid your gaze on the ground. "O-oh. Thank you."

You then ended up chatting as you strolled through stalls together, and you immediately felt like you had known him all your life. He just somehow got you, made you feel special without even doing anything in particular - except for a few flirts here and there. He clearly enjoyed having you flustered.

Your little stroll together came to an end sooner than you would have liked as a woman approached him, laying her hand on his shoulder, causing him to turn.

"Captain, she's in the city. They told you the truth," she mumbled, her eyes flicking to you quickly as he glanced at you too.

He placed his hands on his hips. "You're sure?"

"Yes."

"Alright, I'll come to the ship soon."

The woman left, and the man turned to you, his brows furrowed as he sighed.

“You need to run,” you nodded before he said anything. “I understand. It was nice to meet you. I had a wonderful time.”

He nodded, his lips forming a tight line. “I most likely need to leave Novyi Zem tonight, but I hope to see you again one day.”

You smiled at him. “Maybe we will.”

***

A small chase later and hiding from sight until sunset, you were crouching behind some boxes in the harbor, looking over ships. One ship in particular caught your attention, Volkvolny was carved with golden letters to the side of it, two people standing beside the plank.

“What about that one?” you nodded towards it as your eyes traveled up the mast. “It doesn’t have a flag, so…”

“It’s up for rent!” Alina finished for you, smiling as she stood up.

“What are you going to say to them if they recognise you?” Mal asked as he stood up along with you.

“They won’t,” Alina mumbled before clearing her throat, making the shu woman and the man to turn towards you. “We’d like to rent this ship. I can pay, it’s gold.”

They inspected the hair pin for a moment before nodding towards the plank. “Will do. Hurry up then, we’ll need to talk to the captain.”

***

As you were venturing towards the captain’s cabin, your attention got fixed on a small crest on the wall.

“Sturmhond?” you mumbled, looking around as if to wanting someone to confirm. “Huh.” 

You then ventured forward, realising you had been left behind, and soon heard voices from the end of the stairs. Alina, Mal, and third voice sounded oddly familiar too.

“...tear down the Fold?”

“Yes, I already have one amplifier, I need two more. Sea Whip and the Firebird.”

You stepped into the room, frowning as you recognised Sturmhond - the man who you had been spending time with at the market earlier.

“All three amplifiers?” Sturmhond’s eyes then shifted on you, who looked at him with wide eyes. “You?”

You blinked. “You?”

Mal frowned, looking between you two. “You know each other?”

Sturmhond scratched his neck sheepishly. “Well, not exactly.”

“We met at the market and… talked.” You nodded along, looking at your toes.

Alina huffed, crossing her arms as she smirked at you. “Talked?” You frowned at her, and she let out a small chuckle. “The way you’re acting feels like you didn’t ‘just’ talk.”

Sturmhond chuckled now too, looking at his map on the table. “That’s quite perceptive of you, Sun Summoner. I might have used my charm with her.”

Your eyes roamed the floor, trying to look everywhere but Sturmhond or your friends, somehow particularly embarrassed that you had been caught with your mini “crush”. If you can call it a crush, it was natural to have short lived crushes on people you talk with for ten minutes, at least that’s what Katja had told you back when you had yet to cross the Fold the first time. She had been trying to ease your fear by telling a story of how she had had a crush on Mikhail once, the same Mikhail who was so bad at flirting that he usually accidentally offended the girl. She had developed the crush and lost it after a few days without anything even happening between them, and you thought the same would happen to you after you wouldn’t see the guy ever again.

All of you were silent for a moment, before Alina spoke up again. “As I was saying - I’m intending to hunt down the Sea Whip and the Firebird to amplify my powers to tear down the fold. Will you and your crew will help us?”

***

Almost a year had gone by. Fold had been destroyed, Darkling had been killed and Nikolai had been pretending to be engaged to Alina. It was all an act, of course - behind the scenes, Alina loved Mal and you and Nikolai had become close in romantic sense. You spent a lot of your nights in his bed, cuddling and kissing with him and leaving before dawn so nobody at the palace would suspect anything going on. 

Your feelings had developed slowly, especially after you found out he’s a prince. It complicated things a lot, you thinking nobody would ever consider you being a proper princess. And after Vasily’s death, yet another barrier rose in front of you - if Nikolai ever married you, you’d become the Queen of Ravka. You, an otkazat'sya, a former tracker with no noble blood whatsoever. People would never understand if you were asked. Nikolai on the other hand, told you that the world is changing and people would learn to respect his love for whoever his Queen would be.

That day wasn’t coming anytime soon though. For now, you were content to be in Nikolai’s arms, feel him kiss the top of your head as you drifted asleep. You were happy to know he loved you and dreamed of the day you’d get to put on a gorgeous wedding dress and a tiara on your head as you’d walk along the aisle, finally being united with Nikolai. Someday, you wished for that to be true, for Nikolai to be right and you would indeed be embraced by Ravkan people once they’d see how much their King cares for you, and how gracious you would be to them.

You bumping into him at that market had led to something incredible - and you couldn’t wait what life had in store for you in the future.

---

Requests are always open! FANDOM LIST | PROMPT LIST(S) | RULES (READ!!!)

[lunarthecorvus]

Inej Ghafa parent's fanfiction recommendations part of Lunar's soc fanficiton rec series

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what a mother was by @cameliawrites

Wordcount: 62k Chapters: 8/8

Characters: Inej Ghafa's Mother, Inej Ghafa's Grandparents, Inej Ghafa's Aunt, Inej Ghafa's Father, Inej Ghafa, Kaz Brekker

Tags: Mother-Daughter Relationship, Motherhood, Family, Romance, Coming of Age, Prequel, Time Skips, Suli Culture & Religion, Canon Compliant, Original Character(s), Canon-Typical violence, Period Typical Racism, Sick Character, Grief/ Mourning, Attempted Sexual Assault, First Love, Implied/ Referenced Homophobia, Eating Disorders, Bittersweet, Angst, Eventual Happy Ending

Author's summary/notes: "She could recount every detail of the day she married Kolhat: the geraniums her sister had embroidered along the sleeves and hem of her dress, one of her father’s old handkerchiefs tucked into her pocket, her mother’s silk veil draped over her hair. She could recall the day she met him, when she was all of twenty years old. Inej was not yet twenty. Shanta still felt as young as all that, and she felt far older." . . . Before she was Inej’s mother, Shanta Ghafa had a mother too. or: ten years and six suitors in the life of Mama Ghafa. My summary/notes: A beautiful retrospective of Mama Ghafa's past, the life she has lived, and all she has loved and lost. Camelia is just an amazing writer and every part of this fic was beautfully written. You can feel the grief and joy of Shanta's life and it added levels and depth to her character that I never would've expected. While reading this I couldn't believe that this wasn't canon and its own book. I would kill to read this for the first time again.

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Sankta Margaretha and Other Tales of Sorrow by @oneofthewednesdays

Wordcount: 18k Chapters: 8/8

Characters: Inej Ghafa, Inej Ghafa's Mother, Inej Ghafa's Father, Kaz Brekker, Jesper Fahey, Wylan Van Eck

Tags: Post-Book 2: Crooked Kingdom, Hurt/Comfort, Family, Angst, Implied/ Reference Rape/ Non-con, Canon Typical Violence, Graphic Description of Corpses

Author's summary/notes: When his daughter was stolen from beneath his nose on the outskirts of Os Kervo, Samir Ghafa lost his faith in the saints. After a letter arrives bearing the insignia of the Lantsov double-eagle, he finds his hope rekindled. But when he learns of the demon of Ketterdam, he begins to fear once more… My summary/ notes: I'm not sure how to write this without directly spoiling it.. but a certain opinion Inej's father has about someone is surprisingly uncommonly found in fics and its so interesting to read how the opinion is formed and how Samir acts because of it. Then consequently how the others act and feel because of Samir's actions. (I was laughing my ass off while writing this so vaguely)

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Ten Minutes in the Life of a Pear by @oneofthewednesdays

Wordcount: 8.9k Chapters: 4/4

Characters: Inej Ghafa, Inej Ghafa's Mother, Inej Ghafa's Father, Kaz Brekker, Asha, Hanzi

Tags: Panic Attacks, Healing, Implied/ Reference Rape/Non-con, Canon backstory, Pre-Canon, Pre-Relationship, Post-Canon

Authors summary: Four glimpses into breakfast, lunch, dinner, and dessert with the Ghafa Family. My summary/ notes: A heartwarming fic reflecting on the pain and the way relationships both platonic and romantic can develop and grow throughout the different points in life.

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Runs in the family by DopamineAddict

Wordcount: 99k Chapters: 16/18 (hasn't been updated since march)

Characters: Inej Ghafa, Kaz Brekker, Inej Ghafa's Mother, Inej Ghafa's father, Wylan Van Eck, Jesper Fahey. Tante Heleen, Specht, Roeder, Anika

Tags: Revenge, Family Reunions, Canon-Typical violence, Coming of Age, Inej Ghafa needs a hug, Past Rape/ non con, Post-Book 2: Crooked Kingdom, Kaz is scared of Inej's parents he knows hunger for revenge when he sees it, the Ghafa's might be a bit non canon but we only see them from Inej's pov in canon so..

Author's summary/notes: As the Ketterdam harbour grows closer, Priya and Devnand Ghafa steel themselves for the truth of whatever their daughter had been through over the past two years. And for what they might do about it. My summary/notes: Priya and Devnand meet their daughter again after years, they learn about her and what's she's been doing, but the other question that will be answered is what have they been up to since Inej has been taken. (This fic is just incredible, it changed how I saw her parents)

[jeanbie]

SHARKBAIT ★ masterlist.

pairing: tolya x reader

warnings: long distance relationships, set after s2 | wc: 6.9k

note: i'm pining over tolya right now. also i know a loooot of fans view tolya as aroace so hopefully this reaches the right audience (and if the show runners or leigh ever confirm this then pls tell me)!!

⏤ Tolya can go months without seeing your face, but he can make out your shape in the darkness of the ship when you steal your visits, fleeing when the sun begins to light up the decks.

Tolya knew what it meant to long, to pine, to wonder and yearn for something you couldn't have. He saw it a thousand times with his poems, between the lines and in each stanza where a romance formed with metaphors and analogies; he saw it in his crew as they busied themselves across an unsteady ocean, searching for purpose and meaning in the vastness of blue and brown. He even saw it in his sister and passing maidens, in his captain and his need to be seen as something more than an amplifier, and he saw it in his own life- with his faith and his resilience, with his own novice works of poetry tucked into journals in his bunk, and in the whispers of silence between the two of you whenever he saw you again, and especially in the stretches of days where he didn't see you at all.

On board the Volkvolny, for what felt like years on end, Tolya had nothing but time to become familiar with what it meant to long. He'd stare out across the expanse of the sea, outlining your body in the clouds as they dipped below the horizon, in the waves rippling under the ship as it sailed away from Os Kervo to Kerch. Sometimes he thought he could make out your shape in the darkness of his bunk, a thin ghostly outline come to haunt him in his sleep, to torment his dreams. Often he woke up to a fading outline of body just to the side of his hammock, remembering that you weren't there, and wouldn't be for some time.

He supposed that he was lucky to be on this ship, with the world at his hands. There were days where he was so caught up in the passion of his work, alongside his never-faltering faith, that he didn't have time to think of you, instead only stumbling into your body through dreams, where you came to him as easily as the sea to the shore. Today hadn't been one of those days, and he feared that the crew on board the Volkvolny knew it too well.

It started off with his last nightmare. Taking steps together on a shoreline that looked like it belonged to a dip of earth in Shu Han, Tolya met you on the sands, his hand slotted into your own as he followed behind you, stepping into your sunken footprints. Tolya had been inches from your mouth before he was ripped away with the sound of horns and laughter, drops of water leaking through the deck overhead. Work was demanding his consciousness, and the image of you remained only on his eyelids as he groaned, rubbing his eyes sleepily. He'd gone about his day relatively normally after that, or about as normally as he could stomach it. Tamar had seen the worst of his mood- she watched him heave himself up the stairs to the deck with a frown deep on his face, an ache at the corner of his lips tugging down. The front he performed of happiness did little to arouse his crewmates, although they joined the spectacle, letting him think he was giving a performance of a lifetime.

For a while, his mood had settled. He'd only counted seeing you in hallucinations maybe three times, but he'd stopped counting after the third, and couldn't be sure if his mind was allowing him to stick with three for the sake of his own sanity. He'd spotted you in the twist of water under the bowsprit, once in the ripple of the sails and again in the clouds. After the third, his mood was so sour that he opted to be silent for the day's voyage. People never thought they'd miss the sound of his poetry until he took his pitiful vows of silence.

Saints, how he missed you. Each time you were gone, Tolya regretted every second of silence between the two of you, every time he passed up the chance to tell you how much he loved you. And each time you were here, back with him in his arms, he couldn't seem to find the words. You weren't part of the crew on voyage with the Volkvolny, although you were never not welcome as far as Sturmhond was concerned. It was just that you preferred being on land, seeking out thrills and leads and injustice, trying to piece together the gaps in your history. Tolya knew that was what held you to the Crows, and what Inej often said was your lifeline away from him. Still, Tolya yearned for the days you were back with him, however short and fleeting. Months could pass at sea and when he saw you again, it would be like no time had passed at all.

Kerch loomed in the distance. From the crow's nest, he was told that through the spyglass, the oblong shapes of Ketterdam ports could be seen, the buildings packed together tightly and the smoke rising in the air, thick and dark like fires were blooming in the streets. It would be about two days of sailing, if the winds kept up, but if they were lucky, they might arrive ahead of schedule. Tolya couldn't count the moments quick enough- two days would be agonising until he saw you again.

"Yeesh. I kinda miss your poetry right now." Tamar crept up from behind Tolya on the hull of the ship. Not far from where Tolya was standing, with his elbows holding his body up on the side of the beams, was Jacob's ladder, hitting the side of the vessel with irritating small clicks.

Tolya glanced at her, a smile naturally falling into place. As foul as his mood might have been, there was always room in his heart for his sister. "That's something I'll never hear you say again."

His sister grinned. "I'm serious! Go on, give me something?"

Tolya replied with quiet laughter, and Tamar did the same. The twins shared their laughter for a moment before finishing in silence, and Tamar stole a glance as her brother cast his gaze to the water, curving like ribbons around the underbelly of the ship.

"Missing her?" she asked softly.

Tolya rolled his eyes, but saying nothing was as good as admitting it. 

"You know," Tamar continued, spinning so her back was pressed against the beams, "you could always just ask her to come with you." She gestured to the prow, "come with us."

"She wouldn't want to do that," Tolya said, shaking his head.

"Oh, so you asked her already?"

"Well— no."

"Then how'd you know?" 

Tolya sighed, twisting his head. He knew that you were as good as a Crow— although not exactly affiliated in whatever Kaz did or did not do, anybody who knew you knew that you did work for Kaz that filled the gap Inej made on the quest to find her brother. Even before that, you'd told Tolya that Kaz occasionally found himself asking for your help with requests that extended outside of his immediate access. You had been of some help to him finding the name of the slaver ships and traders, of which the Volkvolny was sailing back to Kerch to deliver rescued shipment (one lacking Inej's brother in tow, and the slaver who sold them). 

Your place was on land, on high ground. A bird could fly at sea, yes, but he feared you'd grow restless with little purpose on the ship. Everybody had a place and a role—he knew that simply being there for him wouldn't be a good enough reason for you to abandon whatever work you had unfinished on dry land, which is why he'd never asked you to come in the first place.

Tolya turned to face Tamar, eyeing her side-profile as she meticulously assessed the state of the ship. Many crewmates were down below, rifling through Shu poker cards and coins and sharing ghost stories with cups of ale and wine. 

"Have you ever been so scared of losing something good?" he asked suddenly, making Tamar look back at him. 

"All the time," she replied. 

Tolya dared a glance back at the ocean, relieved that he didn't find you there. "Every time I see her again, it's like magic. Bigger and grander than any kind of Saint-like act. She becomes the most important thing in the room." He blinked. "I don't want that feeling to go away."

Tamar tilted her head, as if to say, 'Go on'. There was a comfort in their twinnish bond, but even with that, Tolya struggled to find the words. Writing poetry was easy—every embarrassing thought could be passed off as fictional prose, but in a conversation it wasn't quite as easy to put on a façade. At the best of times, Tolya was as cool as a sea-cucumber, with an easy going air that put people at ease. Just another performance of a lifetime, but he didn't have to pretend sometimes when he was with his sister.

"We're just very different," Tolya said cautiously, almost like he didn't believe it were true as he said it. "I'm worried she might grow too used to me. Might get restless."

"Bored, you mean?" Tamar interrupted. When Tolya said nothing, she threw herself into extended conversation, "Brother, she adores you. That kind of love is special. And if she didn't love you more when you were doing what you do best- as in, meandering around this beast with your poetry and stupid jokes-" He looked at her with a rising smile- "-then you'd be better off for it."

His stomach churned. He didn't want to be better off without you. 

"Besides," Tamar offered her last words of comfort before pushing herself up and away from him, "there are thousands of men and women in the world for her to see each passing day, and yet she still falls into those arms of yours when we arrive in Ketterdam. If she can love you from a hundred miles away, then I think she'll manage loving you and your quirks on the open sea."

There was an insufferable ache in Tolya's chest whenever he thought back to his conversation with Tamar. 

He'd busied himself the next day, throwing himself into heavy work around the ship as it sailed nearer to the coastline. His crewmates were thankful to see him in reasonably good spirits— Sturmhond had been particularly put off by his lack of comedic timing the day before, and had tried to think back to his own experiences with Alina back in Ravka, putting the pieces together in his own time— but they knew it was bought time with Tolya's pleasantries. Tolya wouldn't be at ease until they docked and only then could his mind be put at ease. It was always the days before returning to Ketterdam where Tolya seemed at his darkest, and it had happened enough times that they should all be used to it, but the sight of his downturned face never got any easier to process.

Night ensued, the moon casting a fickle light to the ocean as it lulled to a cool and calm tempo. The winds were kind tonight, not carrying the wind in an angry gust, and the waves were short and fluid. No storms hid behind thick flurries of clouds, and the creatures below whipped their fins and tails in harmony— no trouble would come tonight, he thought, and glad of it.

Tolya lay in his hammock, staring at the wooden boards above his head. Around him, his crew slept in peaceful slumbers, and to the far side of the room he could see the auburn light of Sturmhond's—now Mal, now that the charade was over— little black lamp sheltered next to a book he'd inherited with his title, now reading to fall asleep. Tolya sighed, his gaze back above. 

The glow of light to his left allowed room for your shape to slowly appear, just an outline that got more hazy in his memory as the months went by. He gulped, the lump in his throat hard and sour tasting, and he closed his eyes quickly to throw away the image of you. Yet you remained, imprinted on his eyelids, smiling as he found sleep to take him away into the night.

When he awoke, he could hear the caw of gulls and loud voices beyond the ship, louder than what he knew his crew to be capable of. Tolya stirred for a moment before coming to his senses, his eyes honing in on the same spot he'd last seen you in above his slumbering form. The forecastle was bathed with yellow light, with the sun at an angle pouring down through the hatch to the upper deck, and as he awoke, Tolya could smell the distinct scent of crab hooks and wet moss, the lingering scent of oil and sewage and copper. Strange, he thought.

Balancing on the hammock, Tolya raised himself with his elbow and stole a glance around the forecastle. Two men lay snoring, too drunk the night before, and he noticed a third figure at the foot of his hammock, their back to him but hiding nothing about their identity. His heart lurched, he baulked, and the hammock twisted beneath him with a sudden jolt and his body was sent to the floor with a thud and a grunt.

"Easy, sharkbait."

Tolya's head whipped up quickly, the click in his neck aching. It was you- Y/N, his beloved Y/N, dressed in a blue coat that looked like Mal's. Underneath you wore a dark brown shirt tucked into your trousers—today the attire was more casual, for when you were at work you wore black and black alone. Inej told him it was to blend in with the night, but Tolya reckoned it was also because it flattered you.

You smiled at him warmly, laughing when he didn't move from the floor.

"Come on. Don't tell me after a few months you've forgotten this face?"

Tolya's mouth opened and closed. "What—no! How could I—wait, is that Mal's coat?"

He heard your laugh again as you drew near, pulling his bicep to pick him up off the floor. You were more than capable of pulling his weight, but you still found fun in pretending you couldn't. Tolya rose from the floor, both of his salt-soaked hands gently wrapping around your wrists as he faced you. A smile dawned on his lips as he drank in the image of you; fully fleshed out, solid, real, not a figment of his desperate imagination.

"I saw him up top," you told him. "He looks good as Sturmhond, right? I was almost charmed." You said it with a grin that made Tolya think otherwise, and you shuffled closer towards his torso, the action welcomed as his grip fastened slightly around your arms. 

"Charmed enough to take his clothes?" Tolya asked. He knew that there would never be anything there with Mal—Saints, everybody knew that. Mal was too busy having his own mental quarrels with Alina to entertain the thought of somebody else, and well, you seemed perfectly content being charmed by a different captain below deck, smiling at you with sleep still hanging in his eyes.

"I always did look good in blue," you said.

Tolya hummed. "Yeah."

Falling into a silence, Tolya's eyes flickered across your face, soaking up the sight of you, making a mental note of what had changed while he'd been away. Not much, he found, bar a few scratches across your left cheek flanking down to your chin, and a greenish bruise under your eye. He frowned, moving his hand to ghost his fingers across the painted skin. Meanwhile, you did the same, observing changes in his appearance, concluding every detail: the richer tan across his skin, the stubbly pricks of hair around his jawline and the appearance of a new mark under his right nostril. Drunk on the image of him, you fixed your eyes back on his, surprised to see him already looking.

"What're you doing down here anyway, sharkbait?" you asked. Your voice was lower, quieter and softer, but he knew it had nothing to do with a shift in mood. Instead, you were just simply close enough for him to hear you without strain, close enough to hear you whisper, to hear you breathing. 

Tolya offered a boyish smile. "You know."

"Had a long night?"

"Terribly long."

"What, enjoying someone's company til sunrise?" you teased, entertaining what could be signs of an insecurity in the bilge of your belly. Tolya pretended to ignore it, yet his heart sank nonetheless. 

"Come on, you know me better than that," he laughed, bringing you in closer to him. Tolya nestled his nose against yours, moving it across your face to your cheekbone and closing you in with his arms around your shoulders. He sighed, comfortable. He'd missed this, the way your body felt against his, the way your arms felt around him. Saints, he'd missed this. Tolya took in a breath, his nose above your ear. "I've missed you."

Tolya heard a hum near his sternum, rumbling with a small vibration. It made his body bristle slightly but he warmed to your touch, his arms tightening around you.

"Me too, moi sol ye tselai," you replied, feeling his nose twitch as a smile grew on his face. 

For a moment you stayed like that, entangled in the quiet of the forecastle. Tolya didn't waste a single second of it, not after the torment he'd given himself just hours before. After some time, Tolya felt you wiggling in his arms and he relaxed, opening the distance between you as he leaned back to look at your face. You looked back at him with a smile, head angled up to marvel at him, and Tolya's eyes shifted into crescent moons as he brought his head down to kiss you. 

His one hand cradled the side of your face, the other at the back of your neck, and you made no resists to his advancements. Tolya kissed you deeply, lost in the familiar taste of your lips, sweet like the breakfast you must have ate before coming down here. He felt you kiss him back, the pressures combined, your hands up around his wrists. Your head leaned back slightly, his dominance slightly more assertive, as he captured your lips once, twice, thrice, never allowing a minute of rest.

When he did pull back, he was met with your widened eyes, shining in the light, and you bit down on your bottom lip to try and refrain from a smile. He saw it anyway, kissing you once more in a swift gesture and bringing himself back in what he thought was a commendable act of self restraint.

"I take it we are in Ketterdam," he asked, more of like a statement. It had to be true, since you were here. Unless he was dreaming, which he had a sinking feeling that he could be, perhaps trapped in a powerful lucid dream, some kind of sleep paralysis that had him smooching something akin to a squid on the prow. Unlikely, but not impossible, given his mood these days.

"How else would I be here?" you replied with a gentle laugh. 

He held you by your waist as you turned, observing the forecastle he sometimes called home. Tolya freed his grasp with reluctance, holding your fingers til the last second and he fell forward a few steps trying to grab you back. You moved around the hammocks, ducking under a lamp with a feigned interest in the bunks. Tolya didn't like to use his heartrending on you, but he could hear your hammering heartbeat even without using his talents. He smiled in private, watching you with adoration.

"I arrived here as soon as you docked," you explained, still looking around. Tolya hummed with interest, leaning his weight against a support beam. "I was having breakfast with Nina when Jesper told me that your Volkvolny was coming to the harbour. I finished, paid and came here as fast as I could. You didn't meet me at the deck, but it was so early, I figured you'd be sleeping. I greeted your crew, shook hands with your new captain, hugged Tamar, stole a coat and then came down here." You smiled, spinning back to look at him. Your bravado was complete. "To answer your question—yes. Welcome back to Ketterdam."

Tolya loved when you launched into explanations like this. He had a series of entries in a journal you shared where you'd given full detailed accounts of your adventures, but the ink never did justice to the words as you said them. Tolya's grin widened. 

"Kaz wanted to speak with you, too," you added, stepping back towards him and stretching out your hand. Tolya's stomach churned again when he took it with his own, feeling the small blisters across your skin from all your ropework and midnight affairs as an unofficial Crow. Like his own, actually, littered with chafes and burns from the ropes to the masts, sea salted splits across his hands whenever he got too heavy handed around the deck or in other ports. 

"Let's go up, then."

You led the way, all the way to the stairs where Tolya enjoyed watching you ascend before following. It'd been a minute, he'd take whatever he could to feel like everything was good again. Once he stepped up out of the dappled light of the forecastle, he cringed in the brightness of the sun. It was never very bright in Ketterdam, but anything was brighter than the lamplight below. The harbour was alive with noise and merchants. He never missed the smell of Ketterdam, although he admitted that it was a stench that one really did grow accustomed to, as it were with any foreign harbour.

From the deck, he could see the stretch of sea behind him and back ahead, a small cluster of faces across the way. He knew them all already, each by both name and face, and he stepped towards his sister-in-command with you close in tow. His body shivered when your hands smoothed around his middle to manoeuvre around him and Tolya watched you meet your hip with Inej's. Tolya spared another hungry glance at you and then looked back at Kaz expectantly, as he launched into an explanation on affairs in Ketterdam.

The Volkvolny would stay in Ketterdam just shy of a day, giving Tolya more anxiety than it did comfort. There wouldn't be enough time for him to remind you of how much he missed you, and there was certainly no privacy for him to put it into actions instead of words. But business needed to be swift, that was if they wanted a good chance at catching the ships that both you and Kaz felt could hold the secrets to Inej's brothers' whereabouts. The Crow Club was magnificent, but no place for a love-filled reunion, and he couldn't see either of you feeling particularly romantic in the streets. With the Volkvolny being groomed for their next sail, Tolya resorted to holding you close at all times, with meaningful stares and listening with colourful interest about your life over a table in the club, while Kaz oversaw his business and friends reunited once more. Tolya ate up what he could learn about your life during the three months he was at sea.

You had been working with Kaz to crack down harder on slavery leads, finding nothing much about your own family and little to nothing about anybody else's. Inej had been given a much narrower list of names thanks to your good work on the streets, and Tolya heard from Jesper that you'd been a useful asset to the Crow's, although always declined the hospitality of their affiliation for some reason. Meanwhile Tolya offered what he thought might interest you the most about his time away; battles against rough waves, giant squids and krakens lurching from below, sharks and dolphins scratching the surface of the water with their fins chased by swirling serpents; funny tales from travellers in different ports, a retelling of Mal's first night getting drunk at sea. 

Tolya thought, as you mused and laughed opposite him at the table with your friends and found-family, that you were most beautiful when you were off guard. As he stared at you, he felt his heart tug once more. In just a few hours, there'd be nothing left to look at, just shadows in the dark, voices in the wind mimicked by sirens as they fondled the underbelly of the boat, enticing deaf ears to the water as the crew grumbled and sang over their call. The thought of leaving you made him feel sick.

He briefly thought about what Tamar had said. It was true that Tolya had never asked you to join him at sea, but he was pretty sure he knew what the answer would be. There would always be something keeping you here, keeping you both apart.

"How long this time?" you asked, when you both managed to steal some time alone to walk along the dark streets of Ketterdam. With Rollins in prison and with Kaz taking command of a smidge of the barrel, you figured it would be safe out here. Besides, Tolya was tall enough to tower over even Fjerdans, and that was no easy feat. Anyone dumb enough to pick a fight with a man his size could break a few bones trying, even if you both knew that out of the two of you, you had more practice taking down the big guys.

Tolya dipped his head. "If we're lucky, then a month or so." He paused, thinking, "You said that list you gave to Inej was accurate, right?"

"I think so. Every lead I had took me right back to those three names," you replied. Inej had flinched at the sight of them, meaning your hunch was accurate enough to give Tolya the hope of coming back soon. 

"If the winds are kind, and the journey is good, we can be back before it starts getting cold here," Tolya said, almost like he was making a wish at a well or a plea to a Saint. "Without any luck on our side, it could be longer..."

You frown, looking over at Tolya and tightening your grasp on his hand. "We'll manage."

"I hope so, milaya," Tolya said, kissing the back of your hand. 

Once you both reached a bright streetlight, you turned to face him. "Do you think it will ever end?"

Tolya paused. "What do you mean?"

"As in…this search. Once you find Inej's brother, what comes next?" you ask. You turn away slightly, Tolya's gaze tight on your movements. "Suppose you'll go sailing to wherever next, right? Or…will you stay a while?"

Tolya knew what you were asking, obvious in what you didn't say. There had been countless times where Tolya had imagined himself throwing his life on the Volkvolny away just to be with you, to retire with you to some peaceful town with no worries, nothing at all but peace gifted by Alina tearing down the fold and enough money and shelter to settle down, explore the world, fall deeper in love. But the Volkvolny was his life, his meaning when he didn't fall into his faith. You were his love, his beloved, but neither one could expect the other to give up their identity to be somebody they weren't.

"I'm not sure," Tolya said truthfully. "And yourself? You're so busy with Kaz here, you may well be a Crow by the next time I see you. Your work seems to spring up like fleas."

Your mouth tilted downwards. He was right. Tolya was the love of your life but there would always be the issue of work. Without your demand with the Crows, what were you? Nothing but a shadow skulking around the city, tailing crooks, locating slaves? You supposed you could be more—you'd thought about it a few times, getting up and going with Tolya wherever he asked you to go. But those were dreams, frightening dreams you weren't sure Tolya saw eye to eye with. His voyages felt to you like escapes.

"Well—" Tolya broke through the silence, using his index finger to pick up your head by your chin. When your eyes met, he smiled warmly, kissing you. "Whatever comes next, I'll be there waiting for you."

Tamar stood beside Kaz and Mal as Tolya heaved himself up the ramp and onto the ship. You were close behind, shadowing his steps, cautious about even a step of distance. Tamar sighed loudly, and Kaz looked over at her and followed her gaze.

"What is it?" he asked. Kaz thought he already knew, but it didn't hurt to be sure.

"Oh, a lovers parting," she said dramatically. 

Mal smiled, not quite reaching his eyes. "If they're trying to be subtle about things, they're doing a terrible job."

Kaz observed the couple. Kaz knew you well enough to respect you, perhaps even call you a friend, and he had no obvious qualms with Tolya. He'd never forget his loyalty before Alina tore down the fold, and had no concerns about him being a weakness to who might just be his next Crow. He stared at the back of Inej's head for a second too long as she helped someone heave some shipment to a different compartment of the ship, and then he looked back to Tolya and yourself with a funny feeling twist in his stomach.

"Why grovel?" Kaz asked. "Y/N can leave at any time if she wishes."

Tamar glanced over quickly, as if the news was surprising to her. "She's not working?"

"Her work is done," Kaz said plainly. Tamar and Mal's look of confusion made him twitch with slight annoyance, but he otherwise elaborated on what they didn't know: "I told Y/N to find leads on the slavers. She supplied the list of three and now you will be on your way to locate them. Her task has been completed, and she is free to go."

"Yeesh," Tamar said, "way to make her sound expendable."

"Everybody is."

Kaz looked back at Tolya, holding you in his arms. "I have Nina on a lead already. Until I have something for Y/N to do, she is free to do whatever she pleases." He added as an afterthought, "After all, she's not under my employment."

Hm. Tamar and Mal exchanged a look, but said nothing.

"Will you be here? When we come back?" Tolya asked you. From afar, he could sense his sister's lingering gaze, and he spared a look, alarmed when he saw her, Mal and Kaz watching the pair of you.

"Most likely," you said. You followed his gaze and nodded your head in their direction, Tolya leading you by the waist back to the step-down where Kaz stood at the top, like a bouncer guarding the way. Tolya greeted each one with a glance and a smile before looking back at you.

There wasn't enough time this time around. Tolya's heart wrenched as he looked at you, trying to remember every detail before he had to leave. Their stops in Ketterdam were never very long, but how he longed for a day more by your side, simply one more hour in your company. The thought of leaving you made his throat harden, tears springing behind his eyes. A blink would surely set them free, but he knew the ways to keep them hidden until he was safe in the darkness, not until you came to him in a premonition like a sick joke.

Tamar and Mal—Sturmhond, now he was back on the wood of the ship— gave a look to Kaz in farewell and stepped around the back of you to move further on the deck. Tolya's heart quickened and you watched them go with a rapid look, glancing back at Tolya with twinkling eyes, twinkles he knew were tears and not reflections of light.

"None of that," he said quietly, with a small smile and he reached out to cup your face. Tolya guided you close for a kiss, and a bell rang from somewhere in the harbour and his heart leaped to his throat. He tugged you closer, kissing you harder. Kaz looked away, fixated on Inej but giving you at least the luxury of some privacy. Tolya lost himself in your kiss, his fingertips brushing your hairline and he swore he could taste the salt of your tears between his lips. Tolya pulled away from you slightly, his eyes slightly wide and breath raspy and all of a sudden: "Come with me."

There was a beat of silence.

If other crewmates heard, they didn't give much away. Kaz had torn his eyes from Inej in a painful defeat, with no option but to assess the lovers before him, and truth be told, Tamar and Sturmhond never stopped watching. Tolya didn't allow the silence to kill his courage. If he didn't say it now, he never would.

"I love you," Tolya said. "I love you so much—eya fyela chi, hm? And I know that your heart is here, with the city and the Crows and your life but, Saints, Y/N I see you in my dreams, I see you in the water and the sky and hear you in the ocean breeze. When I close my eyes, I see you in flashes. You have bewitched me, you are in my soul. I love you. Whenever we are apart, it's like a torment." He gulped. He sounded a lot like some of the amateur poetry he wrote when he felt lonely, poetry he sometimes recited to his crew if he got drunk enough. "So, please, please come with me. See the ocean, go across the sea. Be with me, stay with me—come with me."

His eyes searched your face for a sign, something—anything. You blinked, bewildered, holding his hands as they cupped your face.

"But…" you began to shake your head, and his heart sank deeper, "but my work…"

You spared a glance to Kaz. He could act like he hadn't been listening, but it wouldn't do anybody any good. You were almost startled to see him already observing you. 

"I don't need you," Kaz said simply. "I just owe you a debt."

"But, the slaves—"

"You did your job," he repeated. "So you're free to go."

Tolya was just as surprised as you were. He looked at Kaz with round eyes and met yours in a simultaneous turn. He wasn't quite sure what to say about any of it. Was Kaz telling you to go? Was he giving you permission, saying go, leave, or were you now useless to the Crows? Was it only because he had asked? Maybe you didn't want to leave.

"Am I fired?" you asked dumbly.

For a moment, you could have sworn you saw a flicker of a smirk on Kaz's face. "I expect your contract will need renewing upon your arrival. There are many things to do in Ketterdam, just not now. Not for you, at least."

You blinked. Processing his words felt like an eternity—you were free to go. Kaz had made it clear that you'd still have a life on shore when you arrived, if you even left in the first place. Marvelling at the thought, you looked back at Tolya. Travelling the oceans with him; being in his arms each night, getting to know the parts of him reserved to his crew, his faith and his poetry and his talents on the deck, seeing what caused the scars on his hands, what caused the creases in his skin; what he ate and drank, what he wore on different days, how his hair fell in the mornings when it wasn't fastened out of his face. All of that for the taking, and you just had to say the words.

Tolya's face didn't waver, giving nothing away as you said nothing to him. For a while, he thought he knew what you'd say. Tolya, I'm sorry, but I just can't—

"But where would I sleep?"

He hadn't expected that.

Laughter bubbled in his chest. "I think there's room for you in my hammock, if you'd like." He caught your look of doubt and grinned, "Aw, come on. I'm not that big."

"What would I do?"

Slowly but surely, Tolya thought he could sense hope building inside of him. You hadn't yet declined. Your piqued interest gave food for thought as Tolya studied your expressions.

"Well," he said, thinking about it. Actually he'd already thought about it, more than ten times out at sea, twice within the few hours they were in Ketterdam, "you could do anything you wanted. Gaze out at the seas. Play card games—in no time, you'll be a better player than Tamar. You could paint the decks, climb the masts, sit in the nest all day for all I care. I just want you to be with me, for longer than just a few hours." 

Tolya's eyes were almost pleading. You gazed into them. There was no need to think, you already knew what you wanted to say. Chewing the skin of your inner cheek, your eyes flickered to Mal. As Sturmhond, you figured whatever he said went. Tolya followed your gaze and laughed when he spotted the source of your interest.

Mal's eyes flickered, like he'd been alerted back to the present. He looked around innocently, refraining from smiling when he caught the glimmer in Tamar's eyes next to him. 

"Don't look at me," Mal said to you, shrugging his shoulders and raising his hands, "I'm not in charge."

When you next looked at Tolya, you were smiling. From the corner of your eye, Tamar clapped Mal on the shoulder and disappeared into the crew, helping Nadia unload cargo to a different spot below deck. For a second, Mal looked as though he didn't know what to do with himself, until he shuffled further towards the bow, scanning the horizon. Kaz was no longer on the ship when you turned to acknowledge him. You saw the shape of his coat disappear back into the masses in the harbour, and Jesper extended his hat in a farewell and turned to follow. Nina would understand, you hoped, as you were sure she'd still be occupied with freeing her 'hunk of meat'.

"What do you say, lapushka?" Tolya asked. He knew he was cheating by using the Ravkan tongue on you. You'd mentioned it was your mother language only once in passing, and he'd never wasted a second on charming you with it. He ran his hands up and down your arms, arching to look into your eyes with a wide smile on his face. Tolya grinned as he moved with your shyness, a laugh huffing through his lips. "Hm? Will you come with me?"

You laughed, giggled in his arms, as he brought you closer with a kiss under your eye. Squirming, you faked revolt, wrestling out of his grasp. Your smile told him your answer—the rest was roleplay. 

"I know we're going far from home," he said, watching as someone stepped close to pull up the ramp from the harbour. The distinct clink of the anchor filled his ears, departure would be soon and if you wanted to say no, then now was the time. You never did. "But I promise I'll take care of you."

You gazed at him fondly, reaching up to steal a kiss from his lips. He lingered, his face warm in the rising sun. "You can focus on your business, and I'll keep you safe from harm."

Tolya gasped teasingly. "You know the way to a man's heart, I see."

He pulled himself away, with some reluctance, with a grin and shuffled to aid his mates with assembling the ship. Before he could stray too far, you hooked your finger around the strap over his shoulders, used to hold his ensemble of guns and weapons. Tolya looked back as he felt the pull, the adoration in his gaze never faltering.

"Only the hearts of men I love," you told him, and he smiled, bigger and brighter, tilting his head as his eyes folded into Cheshire smiles before he winked, dipping his head back to look at his crew.

You watched him retreat along the deck, his assertion cool and respectful, commanding the attention of the crew as they fell into their formations. Figuring you had time to find your place, you stood rooted where you had been standing this time, casting one final look at the harbour; you bid silent farewell to the streetlights and carts, to the horses snuffling as they loaded merchandise and travellers into the carriages pulled by their strength, to the place you lovingly called home, until a new one found its way to you in the shape of a man named Tolya, who wherever you were together became your new anchor, the new place you fell to for comfort and safety. The man you loved, yours for the taking, for a life stretching past the horizon across that plane of endless sea.

[goldensong911sartposts]

Little sketch I colored

[marvelmusing]

In Another Life

Part Twelve

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova x Alternate Universe!Reader

Summary: A successful return to Ravka prompts you to share warnings of the future with Aleksander, and a new (but not unfamiliar) character invites himself into your schemes.

Warnings: references to the rule of wolves duology.

My Masterlist • Series Masterlist • Next Part

“We need to talk about the third amplifier.”

Aleksander hums in acknowledgement to your mumbled words, and you feel the vibration of his response in his throat as your forehead is nestled against his neck.

You’re sitting in his lap, legs draped over his, your side tucked under his arm, and your hands slotted beneath the lapels of his kefta in an attempt to remain warm.

Ever since your fever had broken, you find yourself feeling cold more often, and seek out Aleksander’s warmth which he’s always happy to provide.

When he feels you shiver, Aleksander wraps one of his arms tighter around your body.

You had parted ways with Sturmhond and his crew at around noon today. Not wanting to be seen colluding with a suspected pirate, Aleksander had requested you be dropped off along the coast in a longboat. From there you had walked back to Os Kervo, and now that the shadows were lengthening, you wanted nothing more than some quiet time with Aleksander.

“The firebird is known for its elusive nature, though I don’t doubt that you know where it is.” He remarks with a small smile. You nod faintly.

“I do. But, the firebird isn’t the third amplifier.”

Aleksander frowns, looking down at you as he discards the papers in his hand. You run your fingers down the length of his tunic, nails catching against the seam between soft fabric and leather.

“Did Baghra ever tell you how your grandfather died?” You ask softly.

He nods slowly.

“Everyone in Ravka knows the story of Sankt Ilya. How he brought a child back from the brink of death, and was killed by the villagers for his unnatural power.”

Aleksander opens up a drawer in the desk, pulling out a book. It’s cover is a deep red cloth, with golden embellishments and the title printed in Old Ravkan. He sets the book down in your lap.

“Have you read Istorii Sankt’ya?” He asks, the Old Ravkan rolling smoothly over his tongue as you open up the book.

“Some of it.” You admit. Turning through the glossy pages, you admire the brightly painted illustrations that accompany each story of the saints. “The version in my world is a little different from this one.”

Aleksander’s head cocks to aside and curiosity fills his eyes as his thumb smoothes over your kneecap.

“How so?”

“There’s two saints missing.” You tell him, flicking through the pages before you stop at the back of the book. “Sankta Alina of undiscovered gifts.”

You pause, looking up to meet Aleksander’s eyes.

“And the Starless Saint.” You say quietly. Then you smile. “Which, if anyone knew his name, would also be called Sankt Aleksander. The patron saint of those who seek salvation in the dark.”

Aleksander stares down at the book, eyeing the blank pages where there should be an illustration of him.

All he’s ever wanted was for his country to accept him - the hopeful dream of a frightened boy, shunned and feared for centuries.

Since the creation of the Fold, he had abandoned that hope, believing that he no longer deserved, or would even achieve such a thing. Your words had surprised him, and you can see him mulling over his sainthood in his mind.

You turn back through the pages, to Sankt Ilya’s story, and trace your fingers over the illustration. The white stag with its glimmering antlers. The sea whip with its scales dipped in gold. The firebird.

“You know the real story, don’t you? That it wasn’t a farmer’s son your grandfather brought back to life.”

Aleksander nods.

“Baghra only told me about her sister once. But I remember.”

“When Morozova resurrected her, he used merzost.” Aleksander nods. “Unintentionally making her the third of his amplifiers.”

He looks up at you, startled by your revelation, and you can see his thoughts beginning to race.

“But she died. Alongside my grandfather.” He states, but you can hear the question in his voice.

You shake your head.

“She survived. Somehow. She had children, and a long line of descendants, that continues to this day.”

Aleksander regards you for a long moment.

“You know who it is.”

“We already have the third amplifier.” You tell him quietly. “His name is Malyen Ortsev.”

In that moment, you are both silent. The floorboards creak as the wind rattles against the windowpane, and you fight the shiver settling over your skin.

Aleksander leans back in the chair you’re sharing, his eyes never leaving you as he processes this information.

“That’s why you kept them together.” You shake your head.

“Mal has some sort of connection to the other amplifiers. It would have taken us far longer to find them without him.”

“And do you intend for Alina to kill him?”

Your eyes widen, and you shake your head.

“No. Absolutely not.”

He frowns at your almost frantic tone.

“Why?”

“Two amplifiers is her limit. A third one would take her power away, as some sort of punishment for her greed.” Your brows crease and your nose wrinkles in disapproval as you add those final words.

“I presume that’s what happens in the book.”

You nod.

Silence hangs between you both, and you know Aleksander is busying thinking, but there’s something weighing on your mind. Something that neither of you have addressed yet.

“We’re in agreement that taking down the Fold is a bad idea. Aren’t we?” You ask him, and he frowns with surprise in his eyes.

“Yes.” He says slowly. “Though I had thought that you wouldn’t approve of keeping it intact.”

“Taking it down would cause more problems than it’s worth.” He nods in agreement, though his frown doesn’t fade.

“I agree. Although I have a suspicion that we’re both thinking about different problems.”

As you nod, you take a moment to gather your thoughts, and consider how to explain what the problem is.

“The creation of the Fold caused a tear in the making at the heart of the world. There’s no reasonable method of fixing that.”

He tilts his head aside, eyeing you carefully.

“Meaning there’s an unreasonable one?”

Several thoughts run through your mind. Aleksander’s death in the Fold by Alina’s hand. His resurrection, and possession of a young monk. The thornwood tree. The sacrifice he makes, once again, for his country, to hold the tear closed for eternity with his body.

You narrow your eyes at him.

“It’s very annoying when you do that.”

Amusement twinkles in his eyes as he adjusts his arms around you, his palms settling on your waist as he raises a brow.

“What? See through the clever word choices you make to avoid a discussion you won’t like?”

“Yes.” You say, looking down as anxiety floods through you.

If you explain everything, would Aleksander offer to make the sacrifice - to suffer for eternity to keep the Fold at bay? Your heart twists painfully in your chest at the thought of such a thing.

“I won’t pry.” He says softly.

Glancing back up at him, some of your nerves dissipate as his eyes meet yours. You nod, and continue to talk through your thoughts.

“At the end of the trilogy, Alina loses her power, and the Fold is brought down. But in its place there’s something worse.”

“What is it?”

At that, you falter.

“My knowledge is a little limited at this point.” Aleksander raises a questioning brow at you, and you sigh. “There’s two more books set after the trilogy… but I’ve only read the scenes with you in them.”

The corner of Aleksander’s mouth quirks, and you roll your eyes at the sight of his own eyes sparkling with fond amusement.

“Even after it’s destroyed, fragments of the Fold reappear because of the tear at the making, leaving destruction in their wake.”

Aleksander nods slowly, running a hand over his face as he thinks.

“With more training and the power of two amplifiers, Alina should be able to remove the volcra. After that, the Fold is more of an inconvenience than a problem.” You nod in agreement.

“That should work.”

Aleksander runs his hands down your side, in an effort to keep you warm. It’s comforting, sitting in a shabby little room with the fire crackling weakly in the corner, pressed against Aleksander’s chest. No doubt he feels you press a little heavier against his chest as you body pleads for sleep.

He drops a kiss onto your forehead.

“Bed?” He asks softly, and you nod.

Aleksander tucks his papers away, and you place The Lives of Saints back into the drawer. Once you’ve finished clearing away, Aleksander takes your hand, and you move towards the bed.

You settle under the covers, as Aleksander dresses into his night clothes.

“And your plans for the throne?” He asks, lifting the covers before he slips into bed beside you.

“Convince Vasily to abdicate, then prove that Nikolai has no official claim.” You mumble as you wrap your arms around him. Aleksander frowns, and you add quickly, “It’s a very loose plan, at the moment.”

He breathes out a small laugh at your admission.

“Well, it’s a good start.”

You smile softly at the sound of his laugh and fall asleep with your head on his chest.

»»---------------------►

On your return to Os Alta, Aleksander immediately receives news of the King’s illness worsening. He is now bedridden, but you insist to Aleksander that the King should still be treated despite his confinement, in case Nikolai should return. No one can suspect any foul play once the King finally dies.

As Royal Consort, you’re invited to the palace to attend and comfort the Queen in a time of such distress. She sits surrounded by ladies maids, who all flutter their fans towards her whenever a moment of emotion seizes her.

Occasionally she will sniffle in such a manner that has you uncertain as to whether she’s genuinely upset, or just playing a part for her Court. Nevertheless, you offer her empty assurances with falsified sincerity in your voice.

Luckily it’s racing season, meaning that Vasily is several miles away at his dacha in Carvyea. Whether he has heard of his father’s condition, you’re uncertain, but no one mentions his absence.

Day after day, you’re brought before the Queen, and her ladies maids all fawn over you. They run through the usual topic of conversation - your engagement. In response, you show them the Lanstov emerald that you wore almost permanently now that you were back in the capital. Aleksander’s necklace is, as always, hidden underneath your shirt.

They all seem dreadfully excited about the wedding, which has anxiety settling into your stomach. With Vasily not even here, how can you convince him not to marry you or become king? The stress certainly doesn’t help how warm you get when you’re sitting in the Queen’s parlour.

Even you, who feels cold on the warmest of days, find the rooms of the Grand Palace incredibly stuffy.

It’s on a particularly warm day that an attendant announces the arrival of Second Prince Nikolai of Ravka.

Part of you is relieved to not be the centre of attention for once. Though the rest of you is concerned. Did Nikolai know about your engagement to his brother? Surely he must recognise you from when you met him as Sturmhond. Does he know about you and Aleksander? Zoya always said that the two of you were rather obvious.

The Queen is thrilled by her son’s arrival, and you can’t help but feel a little bad for her. None of her family ever wants to be home, it’s no wonder she’s always eager when someone new arrives. She kisses him on both of his cheeks, and he blushes a little at her affections.

Then she introduces you to him.

You bow politely and offer him your hand. He takes it, his eyes fixed on yours as he lifts your hand to his lips.

“A pleasure to finally meet the person I’ve heard so much about.” He says.

Nikolai always chooses his words carefully. You’re certain there’s a hidden message in his greeting, some sort of warning that says: I know you.

After a little more time of Nikolai telling some rather entertaining stories about his travels, you decide to make yourself scarce. The prince doesn’t let you escape so easily.

“Allow me to walk you back to the Little Palace.”

“Thank you, Your Highness. Though I assure you, I’m quite capable of walking alone.”

His eyes sparkle with amusement as he remarks with a small knowing laugh,

“I’m quite sure you are.”

Despite his face being different, you still feel like you’re talking to Sturmhond, and you’re tempted to roll your eyes as you accept his hand. You don’t notice the Queen watching you both with a small smile.

Alina had punched Nikolai in the face when he had revealed himself as Sturmhond. Whilst you don’t think the Court would approve of such a thing, the smirk on his lips certainly tempts you. Perhaps punching him would release some of the awful tension in your shoulders.

The two of you walk quietly down the corridor, before exiting through a side door and making your way towards the path which leads to the Little Palace. The silence between you urges you to make some conversation.

“Lovely weather we’re having for this time of year.” You remark lightly as you walk arm in arm.

The breeze is fresh, and the sunlight carries some delicate warmth that is so characteristic of spring shaking away the cold of winter.

“You’re not marrying Vasily for love.” He states.

That certainly didn’t take long. You blink at him.

“What makes you say such a thing?”

Nikolai raises a brow at you.

“Perhaps the rather endearing love confession I witnessed between you and General Kirigan a few weeks ago?”

Keeping your face as neutral as possible, you curse yourself internally.

“Forgive me Your Highness, but you must be mistaken. We’ve never met before.”

“Don’t play coy with me.”

Deciding to drop your confused facade, you give him a small smile as you say,

“I thought you liked our little back and forth?”

The corner of his mouth twitches slightly in amusement, but he sighs and shakes his head.

“Why do you want the throne?”

“I don’t.”

“You’re saying you want my brother?”

“No. I…”

Closing your eyes for a moment, you consider your options. Just this once, the truth might work best.

“I just want to make Ravka better. He asked me, out of the blue, and whilst I don’t love him… I thought I could do some good as a consort.”

He’s quiet after your admission, and you lift your gaze up from the grass to look at his face. He seems to be pondering your words seriously, and when he sees the worry in your eyes he smiles reassuringly.

“I believe you.”

Breathing out a small sigh of relief, your grip on him tightens as you step painfully onto a stone. The two of you are quiet for a small length of time. No doubt Nikolai is thinking deeply, so you look over the landscape.

The grass that connects the Grand Palace to the Little Palace is a bright luscious green, and a few insects can be seen buzzing cheerfully above a small patch of flowers.

When you glance back at Nikolai you find him already looking at you.

“What if you married me?” He asks. Your eyes widen.

It takes you a moment to respond.

“No offence, but you’re a second son. Practically speaking, you’re a downgrade.”

“But physically I’m an upgrade, right?” He remarks smoothly, tilting his head to gesture at himself, and you laugh.

“Vasily is still first in line.” You remind him.

“I think I can convince him to abdicate.” You tilt your head at him. That had been your plan, which might be easier to accomplish with Nikolai on your side. “With a big enough fund to live off, and spend on his horses, I think he could be quite content.”

“So do I.” You say softly in agreement. He raises a brow,

“Is that a yes?”

“Wouldn’t it be a scandal?” You ask with a nervous frown. “I’m engaged to your brother, then I decide to marry you instead?”

“We’ll have him leave suddenly. You can act heartbroken for a month or so while his charming younger brother consoles you. Only to sweep you off your feet in a whirlwind romance. The people will love it.”

His words have a smile tugging at your lips. It feels strange, to be scheming with someone other than Aleksander. You wonder what he will think about this offer.

“Do you mind if I think about this?” You ask him.

Nikolai nods with a small smile.

“Give my regards to General Kirigan.”

»»---------------------►

You push the door to the war room open, and stand staring into the room for a moment, your head swimming with thoughts. When Aleksander looks up from his place at the large table he chuckles quietly at your expression.

“How was it?”

“I need to go lie down.” You state.

With that, you step inside and shut the door behind you. Then you walk towards the bedroom with the intent to lie down and close your eyes for a long time.

“Nikolai returned to Court today.” You tell Aleksander as you cross the threshold into his bedroom.

Slumping down onto the bed, you stare up at the ceiling for a moment before you close your eyes. Aleksander’s footsteps echo over the hardwood floor, as he appears in the doorway.

“Did he speak with you?”

“Among other things.” You remark distractedly. “He proposed.”

Aleksander raises a brow and steps into the bedroom. He sits down on the sofa beside his bed, and you sit up.

“I didn’t think their sibling rivalry would extend to such lengths - stealing each other’s betrothed.”

You breathe out a small laugh.

“Nikolai knows about us.” You admit softly. “Me and you.” He shrugs.

“It’s not uncommon. A marriage of convenience often means both parties find what they’re lacking in their marriage elsewhere.”

“You mean the royals usually have affairs while their spouse looks the other way?” He nods.

Lost in thought, you tug your boots off and pull one of your knees up to your chest, folding your arms around your leg.

“The situation is ideal.” You reason. “Nikolai is the best option for the throne at the moment, but…”

You sigh, staring down at the floor.

“I know it’s selfish, I just can’t help but think that I’m ruining everyone’s chance at happiness.”

Nikolai won’t fall for Zoya like he’s meant to, that’s two people broken apart by you. You’ve stopped Aleksander from being with Alina, and whilst he says he wants you now that could change. You will grow old. Aleksander won’t.

Aleksander stands, and within two steps he’s in front of you. He crouches down, so that his face is level with yours, and his forearms rest on either side of you.

“This arrangement with Nikolai is temporary.” He assures you. “Accept his proposal, as long as he agrees to a courtship. That will buy us time.”

Aleksander brushes his knuckles against your cheek, before he cups your face in his hand.

“While he courts you, and even while your engagement begins, we will plan our next move.”

He kisses your forehead, his nose trailing over yours as he moves his lips down to meet yours, and butterflies flutter in your stomach as you kiss slowly. Aleksander smiles when a soft hum of pleasure escapes your lips, and he kisses the tip of your nose.

A smile spreads over your lips, and Aleksander regards you fondly as his fingers trail from your cheek to trace along your jawline. He takes your chin between his fingers and kisses you again.

“You won’t have to marry anyone you don’t want to.”

»»---------------------►

marvelmusing Tag List: @dreamlandcreations @blanchedelioncourt @idaofinfinity @slytherheign @ellooo0ooo @vixenofcourse @dumb-fawkin-bitch @jane-arthur

In Another Life Tag List: @parabatai-winchester @dangerousbluebirdpoetry @jambolska-grozdova @mxacegrey @budugu @cynthianokamaria @scarlettqueen190 @eloquentree @sharp-cheekbones-locked @sorrow-and-bliss @biblophilefox82 @tartiflvtte @rainbowgoblinfan

Aleksander M Tag List: @nyctophiliiiiaaa @jazmin2211

BB Characters Tag List: @rachlovesactors @noortsshift @aikeia

[thebadgerclan]

Wedding Bells

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova x reader

Summary: The many weddings of Aleksander Morozova...

Over his many identities, you were Aleksander’s constant.  Whether you disappeared for a few years together or separately, you always emerged together, or sought each other out soon after.  And every time you took on new names, new titles, new occupations, you also got married.  It didn’t matter that you’d already sworn your vows to one another centuries ago, your newly crafted identities hadn’t, and good society demanded you do so.  And Aleksander certainly wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity to once more swear himself to you.

***

The first wedding would always be the most special; when you were Y/N and Aleksander, just two young people in love.  Your father had been hesitant to grant your hand to Aleksander, but you’d worn him down, insisting you had no need for wealth or fancy clothes when you had the man you loved.  And that was true, all you needed was your Sasha.  Your gown was handmade by your mother, shimmering gold, the skirts fluttering on the wind, your hair arranged in a simple braid.  You wore no veil, no crown of pearls, but you had no need for such frivolities.

The ceremony was held in the chapel of Sankt Ilya, your groom-to-be standing at the altar.  One side of the church was full of your family and friends, the other was bare except for your soon to be mother-in-law.  The thorn wood crowns were placed on your heads and your vows were exchanged.  Old Ravkan was still the tongue of the land, and you felt tears building in your eyes as Aleksander swore devotion and fidelity to you.  When his lips touched yours and the priest declared you wed, you knew that your life would never be the same.

***

The second wedding was nearly 30 years later.  The Fold was what drove you and your husband into hiding, and in that time, he had shared his immortality with you.  You entered society once more as Staski and Rosa, a lieutenant’s son and his betrothed.  Rumor had it that Staski was distantly related to the Darkling that had created the Unsea and was committed to expanding the budding Second Army.  

Your wedding was a quiet affair, vows sworn before the King’s Apparat in the silence of an empty church.  It felt wrong, you said, to promise to love Staski rather than Aleksander, but later that night, in the comforting embrace of your husband’s arms, he whispered those same words in Old Ravkan, your true name in your ear.

***

The third wedding was the one that presented a challenge.  You’d had to disappear separately for the first time, coming back to Os Alta under the name of Elsabet, the niece of the recently deceased count, and Arkady, the son of the recently deceased Darkling.  Your reppearances were staggered as well: Aleksander returning to Os Alta only a week after his departure, appearing to be mourning his father, and you entering the city from your former residence in Os Kervo to take up the mantle of your late uncle.

The public hadn’t known that Staski and Rosa had a son, which prompted the policy that a Darkling and his heir never lived at the Little Palace together.  The people accepted it as truth, acknowledged the risk of assassination, and that was that.  But that wasn’t the complication.  The way Ravkan society ran at the time: a woman could not accept her own engagement.  Her father, brother, or other male relative had to accept it on her behalf.  And since you had no one to do so….

Aleksander petitioned the King.  You were a woman who had been thrust into a position of power with no training, you had never been to the capital before, but above all, you were in love.  King Ivan was sympathetic to your plea, and accepted Aleksander’s engagement on your behalf.  Beyond that, he hosted the wedding at the Royal Chapel, refusing to let you see the bill.  It was your most extravagant wedding to date: your gown was billowing gold silk, a tiara of diamonds in your hair.  Your husband was dressed in similar finery, but his smile when he beheld you outshone all the chapel’s finery

*** Your fourth and fifth weddings were muted, almost somber affairs.  Ravka was at war, the Grisha were persecuted, the Second Army’s growth had been stunted by the war.  There was no time nor resources for an elaborate ceremony.  Yet you still wanted to swear your vows to your husband, to proclaim your love for him.  So you found a priest and were wed.  For your fourth wedding, you didn’t even have a priest: you exchanged your vows by firelight, using your true names for the first time in nearly a century.

***

The sixth wedding was the grandest to date.  It wasn’t every day that the General of the Second Army got married, now was it.  The Grisha were finally respected, the Second Army was secure, and no expense was spared.  Your husband wore his black kefta, and you wore one of glittering gold, a train trailing five feet behind you.  You walked yourself down the aisle, smiling the entire time, and Aleksander kissed your forehead when you reached him.

You used the traditional Grisha vows, but as you danced–you’d never had a wedding reception before, never had the time, never had the money–you cooed the same Old Ravkan words in your husband’s ear.  “I have married you six times now,” Aleksander said, holding you close.  “But I will never tire of marrying you.  Ya lyublyu tebya, moye serdtse.”  I love you, my heart.

You weren’t sure what it was, but you had a feeling that this marriage would be the longest lasting, the one that lasted for the rest of your lives.  You’d used your true names this time, speaking your husband’s name before others for the first time in centuries.  “The next time we’re in that chapel,” Aleksander said.  “It will be when I make you my queen.”  Your eyes widened, and he kissed you deeply.

“Queen Y/N and King Aleksander of Ravka.  We will bring peace at last.”  “Sasha, you don’t mean-”  “Shh, not here, my little wife.  Besides, the time isn’t right yet.  But when it is…”  Your husband leaned in close, kissing the place before your ear.  “Moya tsaritsa, I shall worship you.”  You shuddered, and Aleksander smirked.  “I love you very much, my darling wife,” he said, tucking an errant strand of hair behind your ear.  “I have loved you since I married you in Sankt Ilya’s Chapel, and I will love you for the rest of my immortal life.”

Your knees went weak when he kissed you again, and Aleksander swept you into his arms.  He then carried you to your rooms, where he gave you the wedding night you hadn’t had since your first wedding.  And three years later, you stood in the Royal Chapel once more, where you were crowned Queen Eternal of Ravka.

[savethegrishaverse]

Milo the Goat is actually Morotzova, and I can prove it

UPDATE: SO I may have been misguded a tad. Illya is in fact Baghra's DAD not her husband so...

Okay so we know Morozova dies - gets split in half, it’s all sad, it’s in the Lives of Saints I think. So Morozova the man is dead, right? But his whole story is about bringing the dead back.

And we know Sankta Lizbeta dies as well in her Saint Story and her blood is why roses are red. 

BUT in Season 2 we see her as a bee in reference to when Zoya will meet her officially later,

And now I’m thinking…

So Kaz finds a goat in Os Kervo. A random goat named “Milo”

The goat ends up being Jesper’s emotional support goat

And while Jesper is holding him, he performs an unbelievable feat of fabrikation to save their lives.

We know the Morozova line are all amplifiers

We know Jesper is a Grisha, who would benefit from the effects of amplification AND we know Kaz is NOT Grisha, which would explain why he assumes the goat is normal.

Jesper says a heartfelt goodbye to Milo, and gifts him a bullet necklace to remember him by.

Later, at the Military camp where Mal and Alina are being held captive by the Darkling, Milo sees Mal. 

Somehow the goat happens to mosey over (after no doubt hearing the juicy gossip the Darkling and Mal were shouting at each other moments before) and Mal happens to be able to use the bullet to break free, thus in turn starting the chain of events that ends with the main crew breaking out of the Darkling’s control.

Knowing that Mal is the firebird and therefore also from the Morozova line, it’d make sense why Milo (who is Morozova) would help him. This would also explain why Milo isn’t in season two, as he’s terrified of coming across his daughter Baghra because she would 100% chew his ass out for hanging around as a goat when he should be helping to reign in his emo grandson. To be fair his emo grandson and said grandson’s ex-girlfriend/ex-grooming victim have been killing off Milo’s amplifier friends so like… I dunno, maybe he’s grieving. So he obviously fled across the fold when everyone was distracted fighting and is now happily chilling in Os Alta waiting for his wife and daughter to reincarnate again like he did. 

please don't take any of this seriously, I am on pain medication.

Also thank you @sleepyzenpanda for pointing out my mistake you're a Saint 🫰

[downbadf0rficppl]

still be here in the morning?

Nikolai Lantsov x F!Reader

Summary: You drive Nikolai wild. You want him to see you, to see you, but you're scared. If you give in to your desires and you let yourself fall, will he still be there in the morning?

Word Count: 2.9K

Warnings: SMUTTY SMUT, LOTS OF SMUT, lots of teasing, a lil bit of angst, and some fluff. Also the reader's nickname is Mouse - but it's not a size thing, it's an occupation thing *thumbs up emoji*

Repost

It was safe to say you drove Nikolai wild. You hardly listened to his rules, questioning your Captain in his every decision and driving him crazy with your constant bickering. You knew that you could, you were Nikolai's star crewmate and he would never risk firing you. No one was a better diplomat, marksman, or sailor - except perhaps Nikolai himself. You were a good detective too - you were the only one of his crew to have figured out his true identity.

You had teased him about it on a brief visit to West Ravka - an old family painting had given it all away.

"You'll never guess what I found, Cap." You said, waltzing into his quarters and jumping up onto his desk. He tilted his face up to you - indicating that he was listening - but kept his eyes focused on the maps laid in front of him, studying new routes out west. You were only docked in Os Kervo to collect a round of new supplies - enough to keep you afloat to Novyi Zem or even further.

"Tell me, Mouse. What have you found that is so worth sharing that you break into my quarters?" He used the affectionate nickname you had picked up since joining the crew - you were quiet, almost undetectable when need by. Of course, Nikolai knew how annoying and boisterous you could get when you were comfortable. Still, the nickname had stuck. In fact, you were almost certain that aside from Nikolai, and the twins, no one could remember your true name. It didn't matter. You had moved on from that life.

"Well, Tolya and I spent most of our afternoon in the galleries in Os Kervo-"

"-leaving Tamar to collect the supplies? Yes, I heard about that. Just because you keep us out of trouble with the law does not mean that you get to delegate all your duties to someone else. We work together, Mouse, you'd do well to remember it."

"Yes, yes, she said she was fine with it. Something about getting Tolya's poetic arse off her back for a few hours," Nikolai chuckled at that, "And anyway, the interesting thing is what I found in the galleries. You see, despite the Fold, West Ravka is still a united nation-"

"I'm aware."

"Stop interrupting me!" You swatted him with a loose piece of paper on his desk, "It's rude. You'd have thought that you had some manners - what with your pretentious nature."

"Is there a point to this, Mouse? Because I suggest you get there soon."

"Well, what I was saying was, I came across a portrait. A new one - well, sort of. It had the King - Pyotr, that is - and his wife, and their sons. Did you know that they had 2? I had simply forgotten." A cheeky grin had snuck onto your face and Nikolai was now looking directly at you. You leaned in close to his ear, "I'd say they did the younger son a disservice, wouldn't you? Your Highness?"

Nikolai moved swiftly, clamping his hand down over your mouth. "Does Tolya know?"

You move his hand off your mouth, "Of course not. I'm not one to be going around spreading rumours that are not mine to spread."

"Good. And you're going to keep it that way. Especially if you want to stay on this ship."

"Oh, Nikolai. You're not going to fire me. You won't risk having the biggest threat to your secret not on your side. I'm a diplomat - I know how intimidation works," Nikolai fixes you with a stare, "Ok, I was a diplomat, whatever. Semantics. Point is, you're not going to fire me. Your secrecy depends on it."

After that day, your teasing had increased ten-fold and Nikolai's patience with you had decreased just as much. He hardly spoke to you if he didn't have orders to give you. And it pissed you off.

To be perfectly honest, you made his blood boil. Nikolai didn't know what it was about you, but you knowing who he was had tipped him over the edge. He thought that he was untraceable - a new persona, a new look. He'd made a point to never dock in Ravka - but needs must and there was no way they'd survive a trip to Kerch. They'd been running on fumes. To be honest, the trip had gone better than expected. But of all the people to find out, it just had to be you. He stewed alone in his chambers. They were currently in Novyi Zem, planning to head further west. Ravka had no power further west than Novyi Zem, a notion which many - including you - were grateful for.

He'd never taken the time to understand what you were running from - almost everyone in his crew was running from some demon, but you had never once let slip who you were before you joined Sturmhond's crew. He knew that you were a diplomat of some kind and that you were half-Ravkan, but beyond that, you were a mystery to him. Perhaps that's what pissed him off. That you knew exactly who he was and who he had been and he knew nothing about you.

A knock came at his door. Who the fuck could that be? To his knowledge, everyone was out partying in the taverns. Who could resist a peaceful night out when you spent every other night on a ship sailing in the middle of an ocean? Nikolai could. And so could this mystery person apparently. Nikolai opened his door before the guest knock again, groaning when he caught sight of who it was. You were standing at his door - coat and boots discarded and your shirt haphazardly untied. You pushed past him and made yourself comfortable in his chair, smiling as he ran a hand over his face.

"Awhh, don't look too happy to see me, Sturmhond. Or should I say, Nikolai?" You'd taken to teasing him in the privacy of his room, where you were sure no one could hear you.

"What do you want, Mouse?"

"I just wanted to see how my dear Majesty was holding up. It has been a rough week for us all."

"Cut the bullshit. I know you're here to piss me off. Not tonight, Mouse. Please."

"Ooh. I like it when you beg. Do it again." You grinned at him. You knew you were getting under his skin.

"I said not tonight. Get out, Mouse. Go piss off some drunkard in a tavern." Nikolai said, nearly pushing you out of the door. "Maybe he can fuck the attitude out of you," he whispered under his breath.

"Make me."

"I'm sorry, what?" Nikolai said, turning around to face you again.

"I said, make me, Lantsov."

"I told you to stop fucking using that name," Nikolai growled, pushing you up against the wall, his arm pushing under your boob. You flushed pink, heat pooling in your stomach.

Nikolai grinned, "Oh, I see." He looked you up and down, scanning your figure. You could feel your underwear soak with every second of his gaze.

"What do you see, Captain? Need me to get you a spyglass. Could help you-" You were cut off by Nikolai's lips on yours. They were soft, gentle, and yet demanding at the same time. It was nice. This was nice.

"Is that what you wanted, Mouse? Attention from your Captain?" The honourific felt dirty coming from his mouth. You felt the desire to push him further - to piss him off until he gave you what you wanted. What you needed.

"Are you sure it's not what you wanted Captain? You seem to be a lot more excited by this than I am."

Nikolai nearly growled at that, attaching his lips to yours again, before slipping your belt off. He slipped his hands down to your core, feeling the wetness and smirking.

"Not as excited as me, huh?" He rubbed a circle around your clit and watched your defenses crumble. You grabbed a fistful of his jacket in your hand as your hips bucked away from him.

Nikolai lifted you up easily, depositing you on his desk, "I wanted to fuck you that day. When you hopped up on this desk and threatened me the first time. Should've done it. Should've shown you exactly who the boss is around here."

He grabbed the small knife he kept in his breast pocket off the desk and flicked it open. You gasped. Nikolai grazed the knife against the outside of your hip, slicing cleanly through your underwear. You were glad you'd taken off your stays earlier - you weren't sure if you could survive him ruining your most comfortable stays.

He placed a gentle kiss on your throat before pulling your shirt off. He gazed at you, momentarily starstruck, before latching his mouth onto your nipple. A hand came up to toy with the other, and you dissolved into a moaning mess.

He pulled away from your nipple to grin at your state. You looked at him breathlessly, grinning, "Is that all you've got, Lantsov."

His stare turned dark. He dove down and buried himself in your pussy. He licked and nipped, flicking your clit with his tongue. He played you like a well-tuned instrument. He fucked your hole with his tongue - alternating between stroking your walls with his tongue and sucking on your clit.

Your orgasm washed over you unexpectedly, sending waves of pleasure through your veins. You clamped your thighs around Nikolai's head, throwing your head back as you cried out.

Nikolai lifted his head up, eyes glinting dangerously, wetness smeared all around his lips. He looked devious. In that moment, he was not Nikolai Lantsov, spare to the Lantsov name, but Sturmhond, masterful privateer, Captain of Volkvolny. You loved him for it.

"You've caused me a lot of trouble, Mouse."

"What are you going to do about it?" You bit your lip, hiding a smirk.

He threw his coat off, carrying you towards his bed. You were lucky that no one else was on board - if they heard what was going on you'd never live it down.

Nikolai laid you on the bed, stripping his clothes off at extraordinary speed. He was quickly inside you, eliciting whimpers from you at every movement. He gave you a moment to adjust before he started to thrust. His hips snapped into you at an ungodly pace and it was all that you could do to not fall apart on his cock.

Nikolai grinned at your silence, his eyes scanning over you. Your face was blissed out, eyes rolling to the back of your head every so often. Sweat glistened on your skin, as you rocked forwards at the force of his every thrust. He couldn't help the small praises that fell from his lips as you moaned lowly.

"Look at you, so fucking beautiful under me, spread out for me like a whore. That's what you are, my beautiful little whore." You moaned at the filth dripping out of his mouth, "What's wrong, sweetheart? Have I fucked the little mouse stupid? No words left to taunt me now, huh?" You moaned softly, your mouth almost stuck in the shape of an 'O'. "Maybe I should do this more often, keep you quiet for longer." You nodded your head, head too foggy to come up with another smart-ass response.

Your second and third orgasms crashed over you in quick succession - Nikolai clamped his hand over your mouth as you screamed 'Nikolai' over and over again. He promised that next time he'd fuck that name out of your brain, before pulling out and cumming all over your chest.

You lay on his bed - dazed from the intense fucking you just received. You were surprised to find yourself alone in Nikolai's bed - he'd disappeared moments after cumming. He'd said something but you were still coming down from your last high when he moved away. You began to spiral. Of course, he was only fucking you to teach you a lesson - why else would he be interested in you? You idiot! He's the prince of fucking Ravka and the Captain of this ship. What do you have that would interest him, apart from your bratty mouth and attitude? He said it himself - the attitude pissed him off.

You were startled when something cold made contact with your chest. You looked up to find Nikolai with something in his hand - a wet washcloth, maybe? - and a sheepish grin on his face. He was still naked, his hair still tousled and his face still flushed. An involuntary beam broke out across your face. He didn't leave you after all.

Nikolai was taken by surprise at the tears that gathered on your lash line. He pulled you up into his chest when you were clean, sitting on the edge of his bed with you held tightly in his arms.

"Hey, hey, hey." He said, drawing mindless shapes on your back as tears streamed down your face, "What's wrong? Did I hurt you?" He was confused - surely, if he hurt you, you wouldn't be seeking comfort in him.

His heart slowed slightly when you shook your head, but the confusion remained.

"Talk to me, Mouse. What's going on in that pretty little head of yours?"

"It's stupid."

"It's not. If it matters to you, then it matters to me. Tell me, whatever it is, I'll fix it." Another wave of emotion washed over you. You climbed into his lap and he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his chest.

"I thought you were mad." You whispered quietly, almost hoping he wouldn't hear you and that he would let it go.

"Why would I be mad?"

"You left." You shrugged, "You left and I thought you were gone for good." He pressed a kiss to your temple and pulled your head into his chest.

"Oh, Mouse. For all your genius, you are oblivious." You looked up at him, confused. "I love you, Mouse. I always have." You shook your head, "What?"

"You're just saying that." You said, tears filling your lash line again as you tried to pull away, "You're just saying that 'cause you fucked me and you don't want me to leave." You tried to move out of his arms but he held you firmly. You hit his chest, trying to force yourself off him, but he stood his ground. Eventually, you just melted into his arms - he held you as you cried, hands stroking your hair soothingly.

You calmed down slowly, chest heaving as you tried to replenish your lungs. You stayed relaxed in his arms. He laid his head on top of yours. "Wanna tell me what that was about?"

You shook your head.

"Do you trust me?"

You nodded your head.

"Do you trust me enough to believe me when I say I love you?"

You hesitated.

"Well, we've found our problem."

"You don't love me."

"How do you know? You been inside my head? Pretty sure even Grisha can't do that." You chuckled.

"You hate me. You can't even look at me - let alone talk to me for long enough to fall in love with me."

"I can't look at you because if I start looking I'll never look away. I can't talk to you because I look like a fool every time I try and string two words together in front of you. Ask Tolya - he'll tell you how hopelessly in love with you I am. And for someone who's not interested in romance, he's a fucking hopeless romantic." His words involuntarily brought a smile onto your face.

You looked into his eyes, "You're sure you love me?"

"Honey, you drive me wild."

You nestled into his arms, and he leaned you both back onto the bed. Your head hit his pillow and suddenly you're surrounded by him. His arms wrap around you tightly, his pillow smells like him, his face is right next to yours. It's nice. Comforting.

You looked up into his face, studying his features while he slept. He was pretty - objectively. His face was long - pointy. Someone had done a terrible job of fixing his broken nose - but it seemed off at a second glance. He seemed so different than the paintings in the gallery - more difference than age alone could bring. His eyes were the giveaway - they were muddy green at first glance but under the right light and if you stared long enough, they were the same hazel green as the ones in the painting. You reached up to stroke his face. How long would this all last? How long until he wouldn't be able to play pretend anymore? How long until he had to go back to being Prince Nikolai Lantsov of Ravka? How long did you have with him in this beautiful bubble that you had created? You could already hear the rest of the crew filtering in from their nights out.

A hand came up to wrap around yours, "Sleep, Mouse. I'll still be here in the morning."

You smiled. He'd still be here in the morning.

fin.

buy me a coffee