Nikolai Lantsov is six years old when he learns the meaning of the word ‘bastard’ - and that it's the reason why his brother looks at him only with contempt, his mother looks at him as if he's the greatest disappointment of her life, and his father hardly looks at him at all.
Or, the ways in which an errant prince can reinvent himself throughout a lifetime.
Nikolai Lantsov character study, set pre-canon! read on ao3 here
note that this is chapter 1 of a longer fic (currently planned to be 4 chapters) with nikolai/dominik being present in later chapters
snippet under the cut!
Eventually a new tutor is found, one who is as dull as can be. He lasts only a week before Nikolai overhears him handing in his resignation, claiming that his nerves have been affected and he requires a change of environment. So another arrives. And then another. And another. It’s not as if he’s driving them away on purpose, really. That’s what his mother says, though, so he gets punishment after punishment, and in the meantime, more tutors come and go. After his nanny resigns as well, she says he is too old to require a new one - and besides, she tells him, nobody would want the position.
His father - or not his father, he supposes - rages and storms every time another servant leaves. Nikolai gets used to being shouted at. Every time it happens, it gets harder and harder to remind himself that it isn’t his fault, it isn’t, it isn’t. He decides that if he has children when he's a grown-up, he’s never going to shout at them, ever.
He turns eight, and then nine. His birthday parties are filled with nobles’ children who he’s never met before, but whom it would be impolite not to invite, apparently. Meanwhile, Vasily turns seventeen and then eighteen, and Nikolai is not invited to the parties. He gazes longingly at the dazzling crowds, and hopes that one day he could be at the centre of such a glamorous gathering. Deep down, he knows that no matter how desperately he yearns for the alluring life his brother leads, what he really wants is to be important. Not only to the country, but to people. He wants to be important to somebody.
Then one morning, he walks into his schoolroom and finds a second desk placed next to his, with a dark-haired boy sat at it. He tries to introduce himself and befriend the other boy, but gets only tentative pleasantries in return. Not wanting to give up, he digs in his satchel and pulls out the mouse, wriggling and squeaking, that he's been meaning to set on his latest tutor. Mitkin is mortally afraid of mice, and the way he'd reacted to the last mouse he found in the classroom had only encouraged Nikolai to exploit this fear.
The other boy, Dominik, seems nervous, but Nikolai puts that down to it being his first day. Everyone gets nervous about new people, right? When Mitkin finds the mouse, he screams just as amusingly as Nikolai had imagined, and he giggles, looking conspiratorially at Dominik - but he doesn't seem amused at all.
Genya's POV of getting to know Alina at the Little Palace, leading up to a decision that will change her whole life.
genyalina fic for the @grishaversebigbang event!!
read on ao3 here
thank you so much to the three wonderful etherealki who created incredible art for this fic: @calicoquinn (art here), @idkchatie (art here), and @0marm-alade0 (art here)!!!!
Summary: Genya's POV of getting to know Alina at the Little Palace, leading up to a decision that will change her whole life.
snippet under the cut!! canon divergent, fluffy pining, canon-typical references to genya being sexually assaulted and manipulated
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Genya knocks on the door - once, then twice. No response. She knocks harder. Saints damn it, is this girl in a coma?
The person inside mumbles something Genya can’t quite hear. It sounds hostile, frustrated maybe. She doesn’t give up, though. She is not going to let this girl - Alina Starkov, the Sun Summoner, apparently - be late for her presentation to the King. No way. She is not going to take the fall for some girl who can’t wake up early.
After a solid minute of knocking on the door, the person inside (presumably Alina) calls out, “All right! I’m coming!”
She stops, relieved.
“Who is it?”
“I don’t have time for this,” Genya snaps. “Open. Now!”
The door swings open, revealing a girl in a nightgown. She looks about Genya’s age, and absolutely filthy. Immediately she sees why the Darkling had sent her. Sun Summoner or not, she can’t be presented to the royal family like this.
Looking Alina up and down, she sweeps past and into the room. “All Saints. Have you even bathed? And what happened to your face?”
She swears she doesn’t mean to be so critical constantly. It’s just a habit.
Alina flushes, and her hand goes to the bruise on her cheek Genya had pointed out. Now she’s closer, Genya can tell that the illustrious Sun Summoner is covered with blood and dirt, and she smells of horse shit. Saints. If she’s Ravka’s last hope, then Ravka has no hope.
She turns to look at the group of women who had been assigned to her this morning. “Draw a bath. A hot one,” is her first instruction, then, thinking out loud: “I’ll need my kit.” This isn’t the normal Tailoring she does - this will need a bit more effort than just getting rid of a single wart on the Queen’s face. Another thought occurs to her (it should be obvious given she’s just demanded Alina be bathed, but she wouldn’t trust any of these people to find their way out of a paper bag), and she instructs her team, “And get her out of those clothes.”
As Genya pulls bits and pieces out of her pockets, setting them on the dresser, the servants descend on the poor Sun Summoner, practically dragging her towards the bathtub and ripping her clothes off. It’s a reminder that having status doesn’t necessarily mean palace life becomes any less vicious. Not that she needs that particular reminder.
Alina fights back, batting away everyone’s hands. So dramatic. Genya almost has to admire it. Or she would, if she wasn’t in such a damned hurry.
The servants redouble their efforts.
“Hold her down if you have to,” she says under her breath, rolling her eyes at the melodrama of what’s unfolding in front of her. The servants don’t hear her, but Alina does, and her eyes widen. Damn. Genya hadn’t been serious.
“Stop!” she shouts, backing away from the servants. “What is going on?”
She looks at Genya. Everyone’s looking at Genya, even the servants, debating the chain of command; does the Sun Summoner outrank Genya? Whose orders do they follow?
“Who are you?”
Genya sighs deeply. “I don’t have ti-”
“Make time!” she demands. “I’ve covered almost two hundred miles on horseback. I haven’t had a good night’s sleep in a week, and I’ve nearly been killed twice. So before I do anything else, you’re going to have to tell me who you are and why it’s so very important that you get my clothes off.”
Well.
When she puts it like that, it sounds almost reasonable.
(And it’s irrelevant that this filthy, blood-coated girl actually looks really quite pretty now.)
She takes a deep breath. Composes herself. Pretty or not, it doesn’t matter; she doubts the King will share her judgement. “My name is Genya. In less than an hour, you will be presented to the King and it is my job to make you look presentable.”
Alina deflates. All the fight goes out of her, and she just looks shocked and faintly terrified. Frankly, Genya can’t blame her. “Oh.”
In which Zoya Nazyalensky is the legendary Stormwitch, and Alina Starkov is just another Sun Summoner.
Featuring Lada Garin as Zoya's adoptive sister, and Liliyana as her adoptive mother.
read it on ao3 here! written for the AU roulette challenge, with the prompt "roleswap AU"
full fic under the cut - zoyalina enemies to lovers, told via zoya's letters to lada and liliyana, mostly canon compliant except for the roleswap, 1280 words
I have arrived at the Little Palace. The journey was difficult, but I survived thanks to the Darkling’s protection, so you don’t need to worry about me. When I got there, they sent somebody known as a Tailor to alter my face - I was furious, but apparently it was necessary. Then they had me brought before the King. I will say no more on that. I have no idea who will read this letter before it is sent, and I have no wish to be accused of treason.
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Dear Lada,
I called a storm outside the throne room, and every noble who had come to watch was hugely impressed. I saw somebody faint in the crowd.
I wish you could be here with me.
Yours, Zoya.
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Dear Lada,
My training has begun, and it’s dreadful. My primary instructor is an old woman named Baghra, who likes to hit her students with her walking stick. My friend Nadia told me that when she first began training as a Tidemaker, Baghra released a swarm of bees on her to encourage her to use her powers.
I got in a fight with a stuck-up Sun Summoner girl. Her name is Alina and she has been at the Little Palace for ten years. Somehow, this makes her think that she is better than me or anybody else, and she resents the fact that I am getting all the attention. It’s hardly my fault.
During one of my training sessions, the teacher asked me to choose another student to fight against, so I chose her. Everybody told me that she was bitchy, and I saw it myself when I was first introduced to her. She threw me down first, so I punched her, and she blinded me. This was two days ago, and I am only just beginning to recover my vision.
The Darkling was furious with her. I saw her cry after he reprimanded her.
I hope you’re reading this. It’s been two weeks since I last wrote, and I’ve had no reply.
Yours, Zoya.
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Dear Lada,
Is everything alright at home? I hope Liliyana is okay.
I’ve settled into some sort of routine here at the Little Palace, but they want me to perform at the winter fête next month. The Fabrikators are building an entire stage for me outside in the grounds so that I can summon a storm.
It’s all very exciting, but the Little Palace is hardly what I imagined. The food is terrible, and there’s so much in-fighting. You would think that the Second Army would be united against its common enemies, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. Corporalki hate Etherealki, who patronise Materialki, who resent Corporalki, and so on.
Wish me luck for my demonstration!
Yours, Zoya.
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Dear Lada,
I’m starting to worry about you. Surely somebody would have informed me if something truly bad had happened to you, so I’m trying to stay positive for once.
I’m writing this as I’m waiting to perform at the winter fête. The last week or two have been a blur, and there’s so much I have to tell you.
First of all, the Darkling wants to find me an amplifier. But not just any amplifier - Morozova’s stag. Baghra says it’s a myth and he’s stupid for believing in it, but he thinks it’s real and I should have it. He says that if he manages to find it, I might be powerful enough to save Ravka from the Shadow Fold. Sun Summoners have tried for decades to destroy it, but he says if I can learn to summon lightning, that might work better.
Also, he kissed me. I can hardly believe it. I have no idea what to think. On one hand, I should be repulsed. On the other hand, it’s nice that somebody is paying attention to me, you know? I’ve never felt wanted the way I do now.
Don’t tell me I’m making a mistake. I know I am. But I don’t care.
Yours, Zoya
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Dear Liliyana,
You might have heard some of the news from the last few months, but I want to tell you my version of the story.
Yes, Lada and I found Morozova’s stag. I would have taken it as my amplifier, but the Darkling got there first. He killed it and put its antlers around my neck to control my power. It’s okay. I found a way to sever the connection. Unfortunately, he used me to expand the Shadow Fold first.
That’s the bit I’m sure you already knew.
I’m back at the Little Palace, and this time I’m leading the Second Army. The Darkling has gone rogue, and he ran away, taking many of the older Grisha with him. But I’ve taken charge of everybody who remained, and officially been instated as General. I’m also engaged to Prince Nikolai, and that’s helped me gain the respect of everybody at court.
I miss you every day. Would you like to bring the children from Keramzin to live here in Os Alta? I’m sure the royal family wouldn’t object.
Yours, hoping to see you soon, Zoya.
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Dear Liliyana,
I am so sorry. I thought it was such a good idea to invite you to Os Alta.
I didn’t realise that both Palaces would be destroyed by the time you got here.
Lada is with me, and we are both safe. It took a while. I was briefly kidnapped by the Apparat - please do not worry about me! I’m perfectly alright. We’ve moved to a secret base, and I probably shouldn’t give away our location. Rest assured that we are safe. (As safe as we can possibly be, in the middle of a civil war.)
Next week we are planning on taking a tour around Ravka, to win support for our cause against the Darkling. The plan is to mostly visit West Ravkan nobility, but I can arrange for us to come to Os Alta. Assuming you are still there, and haven’t found somewhere else to stay. Assuming that you are still alive and safe.
Please still be alive and safe.
Yours, Zoya.
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Dear Liliyana,
I want to believe that what I saw was a hallucination, or some kind of vision, that the Darkling sent to me so that he could torture me.
But deep down I know you will never read this letter.
Everything has changed since the last time I wrote to you. I don’t even know if you read that one. I hope you did. I hope you know that I love you.
Maybe it’s for the best that you died not knowing that in order to save Ravka, I would have to kill Lada. She is the third amplifier - the firebird, a descendant of Ilya Morozova. I don’t know what I’m going to do. Of course I want to save Ravka, to destroy the Shadow Fold. But I can’t lose Lada. I just can’t. I wish you were here to give me some advice.
It seems almost trivial that I have fallen in love.
I don’t think I ever told you about Alina. You never met her. I would have liked you to.
She’s a Sun Summoner, and anything I could say about her, you would laugh and tease me for. You would tell me I’ve grown into a romantic, just like you always predicted I would.
I think you would have liked her, if you’d ever met her.
She’s the only thing that’s keeping me going, knowing that I have to lose Lada. We march against the Darkling tomorrow, under cover of a storm.
I love you. I always will. I wish you were still here.
Everybody's heard of Razrusha'ya, the Ruined One, who lives alone in a castle in the forest, but nobody's heard of Genya Safin, the young woman who managed to piss off a sorcerer. Alina Starkov goes out looking for her best friend who went missing in a blizzard, and ends up stranded, trapped with Razrusha'ya - but what if the Ruined One didn't deserve to be cursed?
read on ao3 here! written for the AU roulette challenge, with the prompt "fairytale AU"
full fic under the cut - beauty and the beast au, one-shot, if I ever wrote this as a full fic it would be genyalina, 595 words
Why had Mal volunteered to go out hunting in the middle of a blizzard? If he was still alive when she found him, she was going to kill him.
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Alina trudged through the snow, cursing idiot men who were too damn heroic for their own good.
But the longer she walked for, the more afraid she was that she wouldn't find him alive at all - that just like everybody else who went out into the woods in a snowstorm, he'd have been killed. If he was dead, then she'd be all alone in the village. Alone with everybody who would have been happy to leave her to die. So that really wasn't an option. She had to find him.
It didn't matter if the snow was getting deeper as she got further into the woods, or that it had started raining. She was going to find her stupid best friend and get back home, preferably before the rain turned into an all-out storm.
She searched for another three hours before stumbling across a castle in the middle of the woods. Who puts a castle in the middle of a forest?
Anyway, Mal might be in there, she guessed, so she walked up to the front door and knocked as hard as she could, hoping she'd be heard over the storm.
The door swung open.
It was creepy, but not as bad as being stranded in a storm, so she walked in.
The castle was lit with candles and a roaring fire, and despite her wariness, she sat down in one huge armchair. Just for a few minutes. Just to get warm.
Before she knew it, she'd fallen asleep, and she only realised once she was being shaken awake.
She sat up blearily, peering at the face of the person shaking her. Their face was turned to the side, but she saw the strap of an eyepatch and a long scar down one cheek.
“Who are you?” she asked.
The person blinked their one eye at her. “I live here. Who are you?” Her voice was rough and raspy, like she hadn’t spoken at all in years.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t realise anybody lived here,” Alina explained. “I’m looking for my friend. Have you seen him? He was out in the forest last week during the blizzard, and he hasn’t come home.”
The person shook her head. “I haven’t seen anybody. When the storm eases off, I can help you look. Or you can borrow a horse.”
“I, um. That’s okay. I should get going, actually.”
Then she looked out of the grand windows. The storm hadn’t stopped. If anything, it had gotten worse.
As if reading her mind, the person shook her head again. “Please don’t. I’d hate if anything happened to you.”
This whole thing was incredibly creepy, but Alina supposed that she could see the sense in not leaving the only shelter for miles in the middle of a thunderstorm.
“Alright. Are you sure it’s okay for me to stay here? I wouldn’t want to intrude, if this is your home.”
“No, it’s perfectly alright.”
Her face turned towards the light of the fireplace, and Alina saw it properly for the first time. The one scar she’d seen before hadn’t been all of it. Her entire face was covered with deep black gashes, burned into her flesh. Immediately she regretted agreeing to stay.
She should have known. This was no ordinary castle in the middle of the forest. This was the castle of Razrusha’ya, the Ruined One, and now she was stranded there.
Genya beams at her. Fucking perfect Genya, with her golden eyes that look like something out of a fucking book, and bright red hair -
Anyway.
Zoya thinks Genya is perfect, and she hates her for it, until she doesn't.
read it on ao3 here! written for the AU roulette challenge, with the prompt "your job"
full fic under the cut - one-sided pining, enemies to lovers, modern au, 2431 words
But no. Knowing Zoya's history of being notoriously bad with kids, her dad had decided to hire a babysitter instead of leaving her alone with her dozen younger cousins, but of course he'd said she had to stay. It was experience, or something. It would be good for her to learn to take care of little kids, and to get used to spending time with her cousins. He isn't wrong, exactly. After the divorce, now that her dad is moving in with the rest of his family, she's going to be living with her cousins until she goes off to college. If she can even afford tuition, let alone accommodation.
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Zoya's evening is fucking ruined. It's her own fault. If she hadn't bitched so much about having to babysit her cousins while her dad went out with his siblings, he wouldn't have found an actual babysitter, and she wouldn't have to spend an evening with Genya fucking Safin.
So he's right. But that doesn't make it any less annoying that not only is the babysitter he's found in Zoya's grade, she's also one of the few people Zoya absolutely can't stand. (Maybe 'few' is an exaggeration, but she and Genya have never gotten along. Ever since freshman year, when they met.)
Zoya's sitting on the couch in her new house, not sulking exactly, but strongly considering it, when the doorbell rings.
Her uncle goes to answer it, and she hears Genya's voice coming from the front hall. She asks all the right questions, judging by how impressed he sounds. Things about bedtimes and dinner and what are the kids allowed to do?
Then her uncle, the goddamn traitor, he knows she doesn't like Genya - he shows her through to the sitting room.
Genya beams at her. Fucking perfect Genya, with her golden eyes that look like something out of a fucking book, and bright red hair -
Anyway. Genya waves and says hi, still with that perfect smile plastered onto her face, and Zoya rolls her eyes and says hi back.
Her uncle leaves the room, and a minute later Zoya hears the door slam. So, she's stuck with Genya until her family comes back, which won't be til midnight, or something.
Genya sits down next to her. "Hey! How are you?”
Can Genya please stop pretending like they don't hate each other? It's not like this is some kind of one-sided rivalry. Every time Zoya wants something - every single time - Genya gets there first. Team captains, best grades - you name it, Genya beats Zoya for it. Genya hadn't even played soccer before Zoya decided she wanted to try out.
(And, okay, maybe Zoya's not wholly blameless here - she hadn't been interested in theater before she'd heard that Genya was auditioning for the lead role in the spring musical sophomore year, but Genya got the role anyway, so it doesn't count.)
"Fine, I guess," she says sullenly.
Genya sighs. "Do you have a problem with me, or something?"
"No." She stands up abruptly. "You should probably meet the kids."
"Yeah, good idea! Will you introduce me?"
And it's not like Zoya can say no, not without sounding like a complete asshole. So she introduces Genya to all her cousins, and entirely unsurprisingly, they all adore her. Every single one of them. How does Genya do it? They barely put up with Zoya, and now they're all over a complete stranger.
Fucking hell. Perfect, lovable Genya Safin. (And Zoya's still not over the unfairness of those eyes. Seriously, gold eyes? Should not exist.)
Of course as soon as the kids are done being enamoured with Genya, they start begging for dinner, so Zoya perches on the kitchen counter and lets Genya cook because yet again: obviously perfect Genya can cook.
The kids run off to watch TV, and Zoya's left watching Genya cook. It's almost mesmerizing, in a way, watching her make spaghetti sauce from scratch.
"You want some?" Genya asks after a while, snapping Zoya out of her daze. "There's enough pasta that I could make some for us as well, or if you want I could get us takeout after your cousins are in bed."
"Yeah, I don't know if I trust you enough to eat what you make," she says harshly. "Just because you're in my house, and my family seems to adore you, doesn't make us friends."
Genya shrugs. "Suit yourself. I'm assuming that means you also don't trust whatever I order from UberEats?"
"Pretty much. I'll get my own dinner."
God. Sometimes she makes herself sick with how bitchy she can be. There's no question that Genya deserves her enmity, but… does she always have to be so harsh?
She jumps down from the counter and stalks off to her room. Why couldn't Genya have been busy or something? And she's going to get paid for being here, antagonizing Zoya all night.
Over the sound of music in her headphones, she hears Genya call the kids for dinner. She doesn't move, though. Let Genya be the beloved babysitter, and Zoya the unwelcome interloper. She knows where she's not wanted.
Time passes. Zoya's not counting. From experience, if she counts down the hours until her dad gets home, it'll only go by slower.
She hears the sound of kids' feet on the stairs, and rolls over in bed to look at her alarm clock. Half past eight. Definitely bedtime.
Then nothing. No noise at all. Holy shit, is that even possible? She takes her headphones off to listen closer. Yep, somehow, perfect Genya has managed to get all Zoya's cousins in bed with no fuss. It's a goddamn miracle.
She waits a few minutes before settling down with a book, pyjamas on. But of course, because this night just had to get worse, the minute she gets comfortable, there's a knock on her bedroom door.
"What?" she demands.
The door opens slightly, and Zoya sits up to see Genya poking her head in. "I just wanted to say that I know you don’t trust me, or whatever, but there are some leftovers in the kitchen if you wanted some. Or I can order food. I don’t mind."
Goddamn. It would be so much easier to hate Genya if she wasn’t so nice all the time.
"How’d you get the kids in bed so quick?" she asks, avoiding the offer Genya had made.
She laughs. "Oh, I played a game with them. Kids tend to have a lot of energy at bedtime, but you can divert that by getting them ready for bed and doing something energetic at the same time."
"Shit. That’s smart. I’ll, uh, tell their parents, I guess. I won’t say it was your idea."
"Why not? Afraid they’ll ask me to come back and babysit again?" Genya says, raising one perfectly sculpted eyebrow.
Zoya flushes. "Yes, actually."
"Really?" Genya takes a step into Zoya’s room, closing the door behind her. "Has it been that bad?"
She takes another step in.
"I just - I don’t want you here!" she says, then winces. Shit. If she’d woken up the kids -
Genya freezes.
"Oh. Is that really how you feel?"
Zoya’s never seen Genya cry. She’s not sure anybody ever has. She wasn’t aware Genya could cry. Well, maybe that’s an exaggeration, but she’s never seen Genya express any kind of emotion at all. But she’s crying now.
Perfect Genya has tears running down her face from her perfect golden eyes.
Because of Zoya. Because of what Zoya said to her.
Shit.
She stands up and gets out of bed. Walks over to Genya.
What does she do now?
She tentatively rests a hand on Genya’s shoulder, but gets shrugged off immediately.
"If you don’t want me here, I won’t come back. Your family should be here in a few hours. We can stay out of each other’s way until then," Genya says, somehow holding it together enough to say all of that.
Zoya shakes her head. "That’s not what I meant - I mean, I did mean that, but I don’t think -"
What Genya’s suggesting is exactly what her plan had been up until that moment. But maybe that isn’t good enough. Maybe avoiding each other won’t fix this bitter hatred. Jealousy, Zoya supposes. She’s jealous of Genya.
"No, it’s fine. You hate me. I’m used to it," Genya says fiercely. "I just thought since I’m here, you could at least try to be civil and pretend like you don’t hate my guts for no good reason."
"No good reason?" Zoya spits incredulously. "Genya, I have every reason to hate you."
"Let’s hear them, then," Genya challenges. "Tell me why. I can handle it."
"You’re still fucking crying. I don’t think you can handle it."
"No, I want to know why you hate me when all I’ve done for the past three years is try to make you like me!" Genya blurts out, then claps a hand over her mouth.
What.
What the fuck.
"Huh."
"Nothing. Forget I said anything," Genya babbles, turning to leave. "This never happened."
Suddenly, things are starting to make a lot more sense.
Zoya walks out of her bedroom door. "Well, I’m going to go eat leftovers. If you want to stay there crying in my bedroom, go ahead. But if you want to actually talk about what you just said, you can come join me."
Genya follows her down the stairs, thank god. They walk in silence to the kitchen, where the bowl of pasta is still sitting on the countertop with a serving spoon in. Zoya grabs it and brings it over to the table, getting a couple of smaller spoons from the drawer as Genya sits down.
"So? Are we going to talk?"
"Uh. Do we have to?" Genya says nervously.
"Yeah, I think we’re long overdue for a talk."
"Then sure."
Zoya sighs. "Let’s start with what you said a minute ago. What do you mean that you’ve been trying to get me to like you?"
Genya blushes a deep crimson. "I mean that I’ve… been trying to impress you, I guess? This is awkward."
"Oh. Like. As in. Impress me how? And why?"
Maybe it says something that Zoya lost the ability to string a sentence together the moment Genya said that she wanted to impress her.
"Like, you liked soccer, so I signed up for soccer so I could be good at something you liked. Shit like that, I guess."
"Oh."
"I thought I was being so obvious that I liked you."
"Oh."
She laughs nervously. "Are you okay? You sound like you're having an existential crisis."
"I kind of am."
Genya rests one hand over Zoya's, and she almost jumps out of her skin.
Hm.
"I guess I wasn't as obvious as I thought?"
"No! I thought you were just trying to sabotage me with everything!" Zoya says wildly. "What do you mean you've liked me since freshman year?"
"I mean I've always liked you," Genya says with a shrug. "Your confidence. The way you don't take shit."
Is she dreaming? Did she fall asleep in bed or something?
"Hold on. Liked as in romantically?"
"Yes, Zoya," she sighs. "As in romantically. And I get it if that makes you hate me even more."
Zoya pauses. It would be so easy to break Genya's heart in this moment. She watches as she wipes a stray tear from her cheek.
But holy shit, Genya likes her.
When Zoya realized that the beautiful girl in her math class freshman year was actually a bitch, Genya liked her. When Zoya stormed out of soccer practice because Genya got picked as captain, Genya liked her - she'd been trying to impress her.
And, well, maybe when Zoya auditioned for Lydia in Beetlejuice in sophomore year because she knew Genya was, she'd been trying to impress her. Trying to somehow get closer to beautiful, perfect Genya.
Maybe it's not normal that she's always thinking about how unfairly gorgeous her supposed enemy is.
"It doesn't."
Genya looks up at Zoya, golden eyes brimming with tears. "You don't hate me more because of this?"
Zoya swallows her pride and meets Genya's eyes. She really is beautiful.
"Actually, I feel the same."
"You're lying to me," Genya says immediately. "This is some kind of revenge thing."
"No. Genya, I promise it isn't. I know I've given you no reason to trust me, but… I wouldn't say I liked you if I didn't. And I do. Like you, that is. The first thing I ever thought about you was that you were beautiful."
Genya frowns. "Just beautiful? Zoya, I don't want -"
"But you're more than beautiful. You're smart, you're bold and outspoken, you're talented, you're warm and friendly and just - you're fucking perfect, and I think I've been in love with you since the moment you walked into our math class freshman year." The words just spill out of her, and she can feel her cheeks getting redder as she goes on.
"Zoya."
"Yeah?"
"You're an idiot. You know that, right?"
She laughs. "Yeah, I know that now. Be my girlfriend anyway?"
Genya's breath catches. "Of course."
And so Zoya leans in to kiss her, but -
"Zoya? Miss Genya? I feel sick," comes a voice from down the hall, and they both spring back and jump up.
This time Zoya watches as Genya consoles her third-youngest cousin, Sumaiya, and gets her back to bed in record time. Genya might just be the best thing that ever happened to the whole Nabri family, and Zoya's definitely going to make sure she gets invited back as soon as possible.
When they've made sure all the kids are safely asleep, they go back downstairs to the sitting room and sit next to each other on the couch. It's been almost five hours since Genya got here - since Zoya was sat sulking on this exact couch.
"So where were we?" Zoya asks, keeping her voice low.
Genya smiles and blushes. "I don't know, why don't you show me?"
When Zoya leans forward and kisses Genya, this time there are no kids to interrupt. And when her family gets back, she's sorry to see Genya go. The only thing keeping her from clinging onto her and begging her not to leave is Genya's promise to plan a date.
A perfect first date for my perfect girlfriend, she'd said. And while Zoya doesn't necessarily agree that she's the perfect one in the relationship, she's definitely looking forward to seeing what kind of first date her perfect girlfriend is going to come up with.
(or, 5 times Zoya almost said "I love you" and 1 time she did)
5 + 1 zoyalai fic for the @grishaversebigbang mini-bang event!!
read on ao3 here
materialki: @jmie-draws, who created this amazing art piece, and @soupdreamer, who created this amazing art piece!!!
Summary: Zoya is usually excellent at speaking her mind. Except, apparently, when it comes to telling Nikolai she loves him.
full fic under the cut!! angst/pining with a cute fluffy ending, 1966 words
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Zoya is not going to think about how much she hates this. Because if she thinks about it, then she won't let it happen. She'll call the whole plan off, and that would be a disaster. She knows it would be a disaster. Nikolai has to get married, for the good of Ravka. He needs to make a strong alliance, especially with Fjerda threatening war. Especially with the demon as an ever present threat to his stability.
Knowing all of that doesn't stop her from hating it, though, so she writes up a list of all the people he should consider marrying, and brings it to him in his office. The quicker she gets this done, the less she has to think about it.
He's quick to veto half the names on her list (not because she deliberately picked outlandish suggestions, of course), but she stays firm on the others. However much she wants to forget about the list.
"You just don't want to go along with this," she tells him, and he shrugs in acknowledgement.
"Of course I don't."
So don't, then.
But he would never want her instead, even if he didn't need to marry for the good of Ravka. So she says nothing except: "You have to."
He shrugs again. "I'm aware. That doesn't mean I have to like it."
She nods. Both of them know the sacrifices that need to be made for a country. For Ravka.
He is sacrificing his freedom to marry the person of his choosing. In return, in that moment, she gives up her childish dream of him returning her secret love. Not that she's in love with him. There isn't any point. Not when he's agreed to court the remaining few women on her list.
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She realizes that her plan to ignore her growing feelings for him has failed about a week into their journey across Ravka.
As she watches him charm some duke of some country town - she's stopped keeping track, at this point, because really, who can be bothered to learn the names of dozens of idiot men who hold a title simply because of their birth - and wishes, just for a second, that he would turn a fraction of that charm, just an inch of his dazzling grin, on her.
She pushes that down quickly enough, but it's the next morning that she stops being able to.
It's nothing special. They're sitting together, in a room of the duke's mansion (yes, a mansion, when the people living in this town have just had their third failed harvest in a row and are struggling to feed themselves). They're doing paperwork together, just as they always do. Nothing special.
So why does the way he catches her eye across a particularly tedious piece of legislation make it impossible for her to ignore the fluttering feeling in her stomach?
Honestly. Fluttering. She might as well be a teenager again, infatuated with the first man who paid her the slightest bit of attention.
But it's impossible to deny that she feels something for Nikolai, as futile as it is.
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The night before Nikolai is due to attempt the obisbaya.
She almost says it, then.
She doesn't, though. Because if he survives, then he will still need to marry for the good of Ravka. And if he doesn't survive…
She's not thinking about what happens if he doesn't survive the ritual. There's a lot she's not thinking about. The list keeps building up, and she keeps pushing all her inconvenient, unwanted thoughts down. It never works for long, but she can hope.
Besides, in 24 hours she won't have to worry about whether Nikolai will survive the obisbaya. Either he will have survived, or he won't have. Whatever the outcome, there's nothing Zoya can do about it, so there's no point worrying.
That doesn't mean she doesn't want to say the words she's been pushing down for so long, though. As Elizaveta seals her in amber, she desperately wants to tell him that she has complete faith in him. Not just because she is a general and he is her king, but because she knows him. (Possibly better than anybody else does.) Because she knows that if anybody could survive a deadly ritual and not only that, but come out of it with his clothes uncreased and that damned crooked grin on his face - well, if anybody could manage that, it's Nikolai.
She doesn't say anything, in the end. She lets herself be sealed in amber for the final time, and watches as Nikolai begins the ritual.
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Zoya looks out of the window of the carriage, trying to ignore the man sitting beside her. Why did she agree to this, again? She wishes Alina were less self-sacrificing. Then she wouldn't have to transport the Darkling across the country.
Her second cross-country trip in as many months. Except this time she's on her own. (Well, she has the Soldat Sol, but they hardly count as company.) No Tamar to spar with at rest stops, no Tolya to share comfortable silences with. No Nikolai.
No Nikolai this time, because he's at Genya and David's wedding. She should be there too, smiling up at her two closest friends from the front row of seats. But Ravka comes first. It always does. It has to.
So here she is, travelling across the country with the one person she hates more than anybody else, trying not to think about the boy she left behind in Os Alta.
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Zoya is a fool. She knows this. Why had she said nothing?
(Because of Ravka. Because he wouldn't have said what he had said, if he'd known how miserably fucked-up she is. Because he undoubtedly regrets it now, so it's too late.)
The moment Nikolai leaves, she wants to curl up into a ball on the floor of the airship and sob like a heartbroken teenage girl. But she hasn't been one of those for six years now, and she doesn't intend to go back to the person she had been.
She runs through the list of reasons in her mind why he shouldn't choose her. He needs to marry for the good of Ravka. He deserves somebody who can love him wholly, not Zoya, scarred and afraid, who can barely admit that she does love him.
Saints, she loves him.
More than she has ever loved anybody, she loves him. More than she thought herself capable of loving anybody. She loves him in a way that makes her want to tear down the walls surrounding her heart and give it to him, to hold or to break. Like she had let him into her garden, she wants to let him into her heart, let him see all of her - the good, the bad, the horrifying, even the part of her that has not quite hardened into a soldier yet. (The part of her that is nine years old at the altar, thirteen years old and bleeding in the snow, nineteen years old frantically searching Novokribrisk for Liliyana, twenty-three years old standing at David's grave.)
And that is exactly why he can never know that he has even the slightest effect on her, because she is a general and he is her king, and she cannot afford to be acting like a lovesick teenager when Ravka is on the brink of war.
She certainly can't tell him that she loves him. Especially not now that she knows he loves her. She knows him well enough to guess that if he knew the truth, he would gladly damn Ravka for a singular promise of her love. So one of them has to be responsible about this.
She will let her heart shatter silently a hundred times over before she lets even a single crack appear in Ravka for her sake.
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Zoya is fairly certain that the last twenty-four hours have been a dream. Something she hallucinated.
Since the early hours of the morning, she has: defeated the Fjerdan navy, rescued and reconciled with Nina Zenik, seen the Apparat almost torn to pieces by corpses, turned into a dragon, been hailed as a Saint by Ravkans and Fjerdans alike, seen Nikolai Lantsov give up his throne, become Queen herself, and perhaps most unbelievably, she has confessed her love to him and the world has not ended yet.
Quite the opposite, in fact. If she were one for grand romantic declarations, she might say that it feels as if her world is only just beginning.
It is six o'clock in the morning, and the sun is not even close to rising. Ordinarily, she would already be up at this hour. (So would Nikolai, not that she pays close attention to his daily routine - except no, now she can freely admit to doing so. He would probably find it endearing.)
But she is not up. She is not washed and dressed, or getting in some early-morning training before breakfast. She is not taking this excellent opportunity to work on the stacks of paperwork that are undoubtedly waiting for her.
Instead, she is still lying in bed, debating whether or not to wake Nikolai up. On one hand, they have things to be doing and he probably should be awake by now. On the other hand, she could stay here and watch his face, at peace for once, for ever.
This is why she hadn't wanted to confess her love for him - because her own greed to have as many moments of peace and domesticity with him would outweigh her sense of duty. Now that it's actually happening, though, she finds she doesn't mind in the slightest.
He takes the decision out of her hands, though, by waking up himself. The moment his eyes open, they land on her face and he breaks into a smile.
"I thought I might have dreamed you," he admits, and she has to laugh.
"Dreamt up my entire existence? Don't be ridiculous."
"You know what I meant," he says, his eyes never once leaving hers. (And she is not looking into his eyes, because that really would prevent any sort of productivity this morning.)
"I do, yes. You're fun to tease, though," she tells him just to see his cheeks turn faintly pink.
"So yesterday really happened?"
"Of course it did," she says. "Unless we both had the same very vivid dream, you did give me your throne and I did turn into a dragon."
"Good," he says, still smiling. "Because I nearly died yesterday. Three times, in fact. And yet it was still the best day of my life."
Her heart races. "You're being sentimental, Nikolai."
"Am I not allowed to be?"
"No, I'll allow it. If you must be."
"Indeed I must. And I have about three years' worth of sentimentality to get out, so prepare yourself."
She pretends to groan, but secretly, once again, she finds she doesn't mind at all.
"By all means continue to flatter me," she says. "In fact, if you must know, I welcome your sentimentality. However impractical it may be."
"I suspected as much," he says, now grinning that damned crooked smile of his. "Then may I continue?"
"You may," she says, heart beating even faster in anticipation of what he might say next.
"In which case: Zoya, are you aware that I am completely head-over-heels in love with you?"
She can't help smiling softly. "Yes, I was aware."
He pauses, raising an eyebrow at her. She knows what he wants to hear. Is this the moment she finally says it?
Yes, it must be. And now that the moment has arrived, the words feel less like an insurmountable obstacle, and more like the words she has been searching for her whole life.
heyyyy would you be open to maybe doing like a kanej first kiss after like a lot of healing and stuff?? idk im just in such a mood for kanej fluff rn :)) btw i love your main blog and i think ive read some of your writing and ita really good so thank you ❤️
omg, thank you so much!! that's really sweet of you omg
hope this is cute and fluffy enough 💕💕💕
kanej first kiss: “not like this”
The first time it happens is in a bathroom. Kaz changing Inej's bandage, his breaths short and sharp. Both terrified. It's only a moment of connection, of touch, before Kaz pulls away from her. She can't say she isn't disappointed. She also can't say she's surprised.
And then she leaves. Goes away from Ketterdam, which is all she's wanted for five years. Away from him, which is something she never thought she'd regret as much as she does.
She loves what she's doing now. Loves knowing that she's making a difference, stopping people from getting hurt.
She's just always conscious that without Kaz, it feels as if there's an ever-present hole in her heart.
So she comes back to visit, exactly one year, ten months, and seventeen days after she left. (Not that she's been counting.)
He's waiting at the dock for her, like he always is whenever she lets herself daydream about her return.
How had he known? Well, he's Kaz. He knows everything. She pushes away the thought that he came to the dock regularly, hoping for her to come back. That's not possible. This is Kaz. Resolutely unsentimental. (Even if he had told her that he loved her, right before she left.)
There's a wound on his face, dried blood on his jaw. Without thinking, she puts a hand to his face, fingertips brushing his chin as she inspects it.
This time, he doesn't pull away. Doesn't flinch at her touch. The wound isn't half as bad as it looks. So her worries were unfounded - he'll be fine.
Inej breathes a sigh of relief. Kaz will be fine. He always is. And she always worries that one day his luck will run out.
She goes to drop her hand, but before she can, she feels his gloved fingers on her wrist.
"Don't," he says.
"No?"
"I... I can manage this, now. I've been... working on my issues, let's say."
So she keeps her hand where it is.
Then - what is he doing? He takes off one glove, then the other.
He puts his own hand on her face, and even though he tries to hide it, she can see his smile. A small smile, one that doesn't come out very often. She's only ever seen it once or twice.
He looks so proud of himself, and her heart swells. There's a flutter of something in her stomach. For once, it isn't pure dread. Something else. Pure joy.
"Is this okay?" he asks.
She looks up at him, and hopes he can tell just how much she loves him from the look in her eyes. "Yes. Yes, this is more than okay."
He takes a shaky breath. "Actually, there's... something else that I think I'm ready to try. If you want to."
"What?"
"A kiss. This may sound unusually sentimental, but as I've been working through... everything, over the last two years, I've been finding more and more that I desperately want to kiss you."
Her heart stops, then starts again, thudding against her ribcage.
He desperately wants to kiss her.
He desperately wants to kiss her.
"Yes. Please," she says, her voice slightly breathless.
And he closes the gap between them, his lips on hers.
It's nothing like she's ever felt before. Inej has been kissed before, but not like this. Not as if she's everything somebody could ever want - and not just because of her body, or her talents, but because it's her.
Kaz loves her. She's conscious of everywhere they're touching - her hand on his face, and his on hers. His hand on the small of her back, holding her steady. She reaches up to run her free hand through his hair, and smiles with satisfaction at the shocked-yet-pleased look on his face.
She pulls away for a brief moment, to whisper: "I missed you. Every second of every day, I missed you."
"I didn't think you would," he admits. "I missed you too, though."
"Did you really?"
"Why do you think I was at the dock?"
Her eyes widen in surprise. "You- did you know I was on my way back?"
"No," he says, shaking his head almost sheepishly. "I hoped you would, though. Every day, I hoped. Selfishly, yes - I heard about everything you've done, and you do much more good out there than you ever did here. But I missed you."
It's as if her brain has short-circuited.
He missed her.
He hoped she would return.
He missed her.
There are no words for everything she feels. How she didn't think she would get to have this, not since she was a little girl. She'd thought she would have to be alone and independent forever.
But now she has Kaz to lean on, and that's exactly what she does.
She leans into him, relaxing. She lets him hold her, knowing he won't let go of her. His arms wrap around her waist, and she knows she never wants to leave him again.
After a minute, she looks up at him. "I want to kiss you again," she tells him softly. "May I?"
He nods, and when she looks into his eyes and kisses him, she knows he's hers forever.
