#tgtfic

[lilowleelani]

I decided fuck it I’m posting my tgt garbage here too since apparently I can’t stop thinking about it

#tgt #tgtfic #the great transcendence #inscryption #po3 inscryption #my art #don’t look at these

[blacksdale]

mesmerized 

a crappy zoyalai fic for @wafflesandkruge

sh: zoyalai college au want one?

“Nazyalensky!” A certain someone’s voice called from behind.

She turned around to see him walking quickly towards her. She closed her eyes, forcing her head to clear despite the reluctance of her thoughts.

“Can I join you?” He asked quietly when he caught up to her.

“I suppose,” Zoya told him, “because it’s too late to make you turn back now.” She turned back around, continuing her walk back to her apartment. “Though I don’t understand what you could want from me.”

She rolled her eyes, bringing her focus back to her route, trying her best to ignore his presence beside her. Zoya had not seen him since the night before at the dance when it all happened. The candlelight, the dance floor, their argument all came flooding back. Everything that she didn’t want to remember. Nikolai looked as if he hadn’t slept, as if a look of worry had made itself home in him. Yet, even then, he was still a sight to behold: cheeks flushed, snowflakes falling in his hair, hazel eyes glittering despite the weather, brown leather coat wrapped tight around him. The sight tugged at her chest a lot more than she would have liked. Everything about him seemed to brighten their surroundings, despite the overcast sky and the snow on the ground and the chill in the air as they walked past buildings equally as grey. He looked like a painting of someone’s long lost love.

“Nothing you wish to say to me, my general?” He asked jokingly from beside her. “How handsome I look or how much you missed me?

“No,” she told him, keeping her voice flat, “nothing at all.”

They both fell in the same step as they walked in silence, the unison a constant reminder that there would always be something between them, no matter how hard Zoya wished there wasn’t. She kept her gaze focused in front of her, trying to ignore the tension in her shoulders, the warmth coming from Nikolai beside her, the traitorous thoughts in her minds that told her they were possible. He kept trying to make conversation as they walked, about anything from the weather to new library books to whatever cafe had just opened that served the best pastries. She ignored him, however. She would not give him the satisfaction of knowing that everything was okay, that she was not angry. Their argument that night came flooding back despite the protests of her common sense.

“I don’t understand why you’re so frustrated I have other friends.”

“It’s not that you have other friends, it’s that Kirigin is a dick.”

“You and Kirigin make stupid jokes together every single time you see him.”

“I still don’t like you talking to him.”

“Well, it’s not as if you would rather talk to me. What with your phone blowing up with your 15 girls on speed dial.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“You’re insufferable.”

Something snapped Zoya out of her trance as Nikolai’s steps suddenly stopped at the stairs to her room. Maybe she wouldn’t have to talk to him after all. But a hand grasped her wrist before she could enter the street, and she turned around, meeting his eyes despite her goal to avoid that both now and forever. Despite the dark, he still looked ethereal in the faint glow of the moonlight shining through the windows. Saints, she wished something–anything–could make this easier, but apparently, the world was against her.  

“Zoya,” he said with urgency, holding her gaze. “Please.” His eyes were wide now, a look of sorrow taking over that she wished would go away. She felt something crack in her chest when she looked at him, which she tried her best to bury despite the tears rising to her eyes. “I’m sorry.”

She ripped her hand from his grasp, trying to bring her emotions back into check. She crossed her arms, glaring at him from below. Her walls were not about to fall now. “Oh, what do you even have to be sorry for?” She was not dealing with this today. Or ever. Maybe one day, when they were both married and had other lives without each other, but not now, with so much still on the table. “For being an idiot? Because you’ve never apologized for that before–”

“For assuming,” Nikolai stepped closer to her so that they were barely a few inches apart. Zoya could feel her heart begin to beat fast, her cheeks begin to flush. He cleared his throat before looking at her again. “That you knew.” He said quietly.

She crossed her arms again, bumping into him slightly, the touch causing her emotions to go off balance. She blinked trying to clear her thoughts. Lifting her head to look up at him, she met his eyes again, challenging him, though she didn’t know for what. “Knew what?” she retorted.

His look of frustration suddenly changed to one of hurt, and Zoya immediately felt her heart crack in half. She had just wanted to keep what they had, after all. He looked at her, hazel eyes apologetic. “That I wanted you. And I wish you wanted me too.” He studied her then, waiting for a reaction.

What could she say to that?

She could feel her heart beginning to beat faster. She could feel the tears pushing to flow, though she didn’t know why. She could feel Nikolai’s gaze on her as her eyes calculated her surroundings, a nervous habit that only he had figured out. Saints, not now. Anytime but now. Nikolai lifted a hand to her face, pushing a strand of black hair behind her ear. She froze at the gentle touch of his fingers on her cheek, though she didn’t know whether the chill down her spine came from that or the cold. Everything had narrowed then, to the point where all she could see was Nikolai, and all she could hear was the pounding of her heart in her chest.

“You wish I wanted you?” was all she could manage.

He smiled again, bringing an arm to wrap around her waist, bringing her closer so her face rested only an inch from his. His eyes were closed, lashes fanned across his cheeks as he held her in his arms.

Zoya closed the gap between them, pressing her lips to his. She wrapped her arms around his neck, bringing him down to her as he wrapped his arms tighter around her waist. She felt relief flood through her as he kissed her deeper, his fingers beginning to run through her hair, causing her thoughts to dissolve until he was the only thing she knew. She broke away quickly, only to open her apartment door, and then his lips fell soft over hers again. He picked her up this time, allowing her to wrap her legs around his waist. He set her down on the couch, keeping her close as she lost herself running her fingers through his golden curls, the way he still held her like she was the most cherished thing in his world.

They pulled away for just a moment to breathe, though Zoya could tell that her head was still swimming. Nikolai gazed at her again, reaching a hand to cup her cheek as she rested her forehead against his, and though she wouldn’t tell him now, everything about him still caused her to see stars.

Saints, he was going to be the death of her.

#mine #userhannas #mine.fic #yes ik its awful im so so sorry #zoyalai #zoya nazyalensky #nikolai lantsov #the grisha trilogy #nikolai duology #grishaverse #m: fic #tgtfic #kosfic #gvfic #userwidd #writeremma #tricewithasee #tuserjules #useradhithi #tuserjoss #usersultanah #userzahra #userzara #useramma #fic: zoyalai

[zoyalais-moved]

You Forget to be Clever

World: modern setting, assassins au

Ship: Zoyalai

Word Count: 1281

asassins au as requested by @storm-dog-pirate <3

want one?

AO3

Zoya was never one to complain about a job, but this was low on her list of favorites. It wasn't on the list at all, really.

She never did like masquerade balls.

But at least this time she wasn't expected to dance- no, this time her mission was simple, and this time, she was alone.

The hall was shrouded in dim, golden light that fell from the many hanging chandeliers, and red and gold silk was draped across the walls in a style she couldn't name the origin of but found rather appealing. Her mark was dancing, she'd been told he liked to dance. How exactly she would get him off the dance floor and alone for this mission, she wasn't certain.

Zoya watched his form as he led his partner through the steps, half his face hidden by a mask in the shape of a red fox, ears perked up in calm alert. She cocked her head at him, curious. She hadn't been told much about her mark, just that he'd interfered with their agency's plans one too many times and had since become a nuisance. 

Morozova hadn't said it outright, but she suspected there was more to the story. 

How much can I learn before the posion stops his heart?

Not much.

She glanced at the large clock hanging on the wall behind her,a great, ever-expanding thing that must've needed two or three men just to bring into the hall. Nearly twelve. 

I'm running out of time .

Which was not an option. Zoya wasn't just the best assassin- she had killed the best. She had reached her standing through nothing less than raw determination, and a hardened heart. And this man would not be the one to bring her down.

"May I have this dance?" 

The voice was calm, the barest hint of teasing beneath the polite request, and it made Zoya frown as she turned to face it's owner, a refusal already on her tongue.

She froze when her eyes met a pair of bright hazel eyes, peeking out behind a red snout. 

So eager for death, little prince, the voice in her head mocked. Zoya let a smile spread across her red painted lips, adjusting her purple dragon mask and letting him take her gloved hand in his.

"It would be my pleasure."

She watched the crowd as Lantsov watched her, the way all men did, no doubt. It was a good thing her dress dipped low and the slit in the silver fabric gave a good view of her legs as she walked. 

She would need to get him alone soon.

"Are you enjoying the party?" He asked, hand settling at her waist as he pulled her close. Zoya frowned when she realized he hadn't actually been studying her form, his eyes caught instead on the cuff at her wrist, the one that concealed her weapon- Genya's greatest invention yet.

"A bit disappointed, really," she said, draping her hand over his shoulder, pulling him closer.

"Not in the company, I hope?" He asked good-naturedly, but a smile threatened to pull at his lips as his eyes moved on from the cuff and latched onto her own eyes, as though he found this whole charade very amusing.

"More in the place," she admitted, letting her lashes flutter- averted eyes, touch of a flirtatious grin, leaning closer- playing with men was her favorite pastime. "Though I suppose that could change."

His brows were hidden by the red mask, but she could tell a single brow had been raised.

"If, say, I were to show you some of the nicer parts of the house?" He offered, grinning slyly. There we go, Zoya thought. She didn't have time to waste, and it seemed she wasn't the only one in a rush. 

"Perhaps," she allowed.

"And then," she didn't notice the gleam in his eyes until he had spun them around and dipped her, causing her fingers to tighten on his shirt, holding onto him. His lips brushed against her ear, his next words a deliberate whisper. "you could complete Morozova's mission?"

It was a good thing he was holding onto her because Zoya froze completely.

He chuckled lightly, straightening and bringing her along with him, resuming the dance as though nothing had changed. As though her heart wasn't beating wildly in her chest, fear gripping her body.

"I'm not sure I understand," she tried, but the words must've sounded hollow, and when his eyes met hers again, she had a new description in mind for them. Clever . Clever as the mask of the animal he wore.

Saints, she should have asked Morozova for more details. More time.

"Well you aren't the first to try and kill me," he said, almost thoughtfully, "just the prettiest." 

He punctuated his words with a wink, grinning.

Zoya wanted to scream.

The only reason he would be so calm… was if he had anticipated the attack.

Which meant she was the one in danger now. She glanced around the room as subtly as she could- there, two guards, one short and the other large and threatening, both of them watching her.

"He doesn't trust you," Lantsov added, sensing her shock.

That made Zoya look back at him. She eyed him warily, still refusing to give herself away. 

"Morozova, that is. If he did, he wouldn't have set this place to blow up in-" he glanced behind her at the clock before adding, "six minutes."

"What?" Zoya stopped completely, her heart dropping to her feet. A couple bumped into them from behind and Lantsov smoothly turned them back around. He was gently leading them through the steps, Zoya hardly aware of her own movements.

"The clock," he explained, eyes softening ever so slightly, "it's connected to three bombs that had been ready to blow at the strike of twelve."

Her gaze dropped to the smooth tile they were dancing on before snapping back up to his, eyes narrowing.

"He'll be dead by midnight, I'll make sure of it."

"Of that, Nazyalensky, I have no doubt."

"Liar." She said simply.

Lantsov sighed, sounding almost disappointed. 

"Why would you invite this many people if you knew the floors would go up in- what, six minutes? You wouldn't endanger them. You wouldn't endanger yourself."

"Five," he corrected, "and obviously not, I plan to die fat and happy and bald, and not dressed in such finery. Preferably many decades in the future."

"That isn't a choice for you to make," she snarled.

"Yet you were so ready to make it for me," he mused, an edge to his words. 

Zoya swallowed, her gaze running from the clock, to the ground, to Lantsov. Back to the clock. 

It had been five minutes to midnight when they started dancing. The numbers hadn't changed.

"You disabled it," she said quietly.

"I did it myself, actually." 

"Then why am I still alive?"

Lantsov watched her for a moment, and she realized the music had stopped- not stopped, ended. The dance floor was clearing up, but she couldn't move, and he made no effort to abandon it either.

After a moment he stepped back, taking her hand, her cuff gleaming as he raised it to his lips, pressing a kiss to the back of her knuckles.

"Because now, when I ask you to meet me in three days at the wearhouse down the street, I know you'll agree."

"Why would I do that?" She asked, her voice not holding the venom she'd intended.

"Curiosity," he offered, stepping away, eyes gleaming, a clever man concealed by a clever fox, disappearing into the crowd as he walked backwards. "And the shared desire to take down Morozova."

#[lowkey I hate this] #[but also i might continue it] #[this is genuinely my worst sorry am <3] #my writing* #m:fics #sh:zoyalai #lit:tgt #lit:tnd #tgtfic #tndfic #nikolai lantsov #zoya nazyalensky #zoyalai #king of scars #grishaverse #userwidd #tuserannie #usersultanah

[evasjacks]

Say My Name

World: modern au, cia/rogue nation au

Ship: Zoyalai 

Word Count: 3084

Chapter(s): 1/?

AO3

Nikolai had never paid much attention to his biology lessons, but he was certain that at that moment, he could have named at least fifty-three muscle. Each of them screaming in pain. 

He tried to lift his head to get a better view of the room he’d been placed in- fifty-four, his mind informed him grimly as the back of his neck began to ache. 

His training came up instantly, the routine overtaking his brain. He scanned the room. Small. Metal. Door? Locked. Definitely a cell. He tilted his head up, trying to see what bound his arms up. Chains dug into his wrists, attached to the wall behind him. Nikolai sighed, leaning his head against the wall, his brain foggy- how had he gotten there?

He shut his eyes, allowing memories to flash in his mind- a record shop, he’d gone in after dark, the place was empty save a pretty girl at the register with hair like fallen snow. Genya had given her a name, but he failed to remember her as anything but an undercover agent who had information for him. He did recall wanting to invite her for a drink, once he’d claimed the case Genya had left for him. 

There had been a glass room. A record player. No , his brain said, an explosion resonating in his memory, a hacked record player. Silky voice dripping out of the speakers, a man who knew Nikolai, not by code name or undercover occupation. No, this man knew him.

Smoke filling the air. He’d felt light-headed. The girl had been there, frozen in place, a gun was pressed to her head.

He thought he remembered a face, looming among the shadows, pale and drawn with ink-black hair. Two words.

The Starless.

Somehow the memory made his pain triple, and he doubled over, pulling at his chains and gasping for air. He shook his head, blinking. The calculating part of his brain tried to update Nikolai on his surroundings. He had been in London, but this room didn’t feel like a British torture chamber- having been in one himself, Nikolai was certain he could recognize the differences. Had they left England? Or was he in someplace more secure?

Now that’s offensive , Nikolai considered. Had he not been large enough of a threat before?

The thing that had struck him, even in that record shop in London, when he had ascertained that he was under attack, was that the silky voice in the speakers had spoken American English. 

The door flew open, and Nikolai let a single eye crack open. He had begun to wish they’d left on his shirt to ward off the chill, but he quickly retracted those thoughts when he saw the person who entered the room.

A short woman with deep brown skin and raven black hair entered, her sharp blue eyes landing on Nikolai. She cocked a perfect brow at him, as though he should know better than to slump against the wall in his chains. It was a look that made him wish he’d broken out, if only to impress her.

She eyed him with something akin to disappointment, then shook her head, stalking to the other end of the room, where a small table sat. She lifted a small case, unlatched it, retrieved three small bottles full of a clear liquid from it, and set them aside. Every movement was precise, as though she’d already ascertained he would be watching. Which, of course, he was.

After she’d laid out some tools Nikolai had to guess would be his gift, she turned back to him. He got the distinct sense she was waiting for something, though from who, he couldn’t tell.

She approached him, scrutinizing Nikolai before speaking, and though her Russian was flawless, there was a slight edge to the words that gave away her English origins.

“What does he see in you, I wonder,” she muttered, more to herself.

Nikolai laughed, though it came out more like a wheeze. He managed a wink, “take off the cuffs and I’ll show you.”

She rolled her eyes, turning back to the table and discarding her coat, leaving her in just a tank top and jeans. Nikolai raised a brow but she was completely ignoring him now. He hadn’t noticed that she was in heels until she slipped them off, dropping them onto the table. Not such a horrible way to die, after all , Nikolai thought, as the woman gathered her hair into a tail and tied it off.

He considered saying something to her, if only to break the silence but decided against it. She slipped something into her pocket, but just as she turned back to him, intent in her stormy blue eyes, the door flew open again. Three large Russian men entered, pale blond hair tied at the napes of their necks, almost identical. Nikolai recognized them instantly. 

These were the Brum brothers.

The very same ruthless killers the Triumvirate had been trying to track for decades. The funny thing was, they were all declared dead two years ago. An accident, he recalled, or a missing plane.

These also happened to be the very people featured in the file Genya’s snowy-haired informant had delivered to Nikolai, in the store that was a trap, that had been her doom. The one that had been blown to bits.

The one connecting them to The Starless cult.

The largest, and, Nikolai knew from research, the oldest, headed for the table, where the woman's set of knives still rested, gleaming in the dim room’s light. 

“You may want to leave,” this from the second brother, who had come to stand very close to the woman, a small smirk curling his lips, “this is no place for a little girl.”

Nikolai noted the stiffness in her posture, and though it might come off as fear, he had the distinct suspicion it was nothing but hard-earned restraint from her end. She merely tossed her hair back and said, “you promised me a show.”

If nothing else, I’m stellar entertainment , Nikolai thought, but his throat was too parched for speech, and the anticipation of more pain to add to his already aching muscles.

The man shrugged, making his way to his brother, and the selection of weapons laid before them. They weren’t watching the woman, and he suspected that in whatever organization they worked for, she had made a point of being underestimated. But why?

As if reading his thoughts, she caught his eye, then raised her hand as if to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, parting her fingers to reveal something metallic, glinting when it caught the light.

Nikolai frowned. The key?

She raised a brow at him as if she doubted that even with a key, he could make it out alive. Nikolai had a very sudden urge to prove her wrong. Then the brothers were turning back to him, the oldest coming to stand in front of Nikolai, an impressive knife held in one hand. His blue eyes were hungry.

Nikolai let a charming smile overtake his features, “Can I call you Brum One? Then the others can be Two and Three-”

His response was a well-aimed blow to his stomach, slamming Nikolai back against the wall. He groaned, wincing at the additional pain.

“I never mentioned,” Nikolai gasped out, “but those are some really nice shoes”

The man frowned, dropping his gaze to the plain black boots around his feet.

“Not you,” said Nikolai, “her.”

In the time it took for the man to turn his head back and face the woman, she had changed her stance and delivered a hard kick to his groin. He let out a howl, doubling over as the woman tossed the key over his bowed head to Nikolai. He caught it with ease.

The second brother was on her already, knife in hand, as Nikolai struggled to shove the key inside its lock. She ducked as he aimed for her face, grabbing his wrist and plunging the knife into his thigh. The second brother groaned, tearing the knife out and arching it downward. He missed by a hair's breadth.

A single cuff cracked open beneath his touch, clattering to the floor and startling the last of the Brums into action. The boy’s icy eyes locked on Nikolai and he barreled toward him, swinging a fist at his head. With a single hand still shackled to the wall, Nikolai pulled away, trying to duck before the collision, but the blow landed, striking him square in the jaw and snapping his head back. 

Blood was trailing down Nikolai’s nose, which seemed to satisfy the Russian, who pulled back for a second hit- this time, Nikolai snatched the fallen chain, ducking behind the man’s arm and wrapping it around his throat. The Russian cried out as Nikolai forced him to his knees, pulling the chain tighter and watching the blood fill the boy’s face.

“Lantsov!” the woman’s voice rang out, forcing away his attention. She had a knife in her hand and both brothers looming over her. Nikolai swore, dropping the third boy and clicking the key into place before racing over to help, his legs sore but determined.

Nikolai tossed aside the chain, and instantly regretted it when he realized he was weaponless. The oldest was closer, and he kicked a leg out, aiming at the man’s knees. He groaned, legs collapsing beneath him. The second brother attacked the woman, and she ducked, then sliced at air. In a single moment, she’d thrown one leg over the man’s shoulder, wrapping the second around his neck so she was perched on his shoulders. Then she took the knife and plunged it into his neck. He crumpled to the floor and she stood over his body, looking unamused.

The first was still bleeding from a wound the woman had delivered- she tossed Nikolai the same knife, still slick with the other man’s blood, and he let it sink into the oldest Brum’s lower back, just between his vertebrae, cracking his spinal cord. The last Brum collapsed with a sound part groan, part gurgle.

Nikolai looked up, breathing heavily. He met the woman’s eyes.

“Incredible,” he managed

“Slow,” she snapped back.

Before he could say anything to defend himself, someone was pounding at the door, demanding to be let in.

“Follow me,” the girl said without preamble, this time her English accent marked her as British. London, if he had to guess.

“Yes, general,” Nikolai replied, tailing her as she turned heel and crossed the room, headed towards a set of bars he hadn’t noticed before that separated his own cell from what must have been a way out.

The pounding grew louder, but the woman kept her gaze locked ahead, slipping a key out of her pocket and sliding open the bars. She tilted her head, indicating that Nikolai should move forward. He did so without question, throwing a mock salute her way.

He was just about to allow the torrent of questions racing through his mind to slip free when the bars slammed shut behind him. He whipped his head back. The woman stood on the other side- her stormy blue eyes steady.

“What- what are you doing?” Nikolai said, gaze snapping from the key twisting in its lock to the woman still on the other side of the bars, to the outer door that seemed close to bursting open.

“I have to stay,” she said simply. 

Nikolai gaped at her, “we just killed those men, you cannot stay here!”

She met his eyes, and there was something resolute in the way she watched him, as though she’d planned this to the last moment and he’d said all the wrong lines.

“No, You killed those men.” she said calmly, “I tried to stop you, but you got away.”

“Who are you?” Nikolai’s brows drew together, a mixture of confusion and surprise lacing his features. The trture chamber and load of people from various countries trying to kill him was old news, but a stormy eyed savior? That was new.

The girl nodded back at the door, “go, now.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. Nikolai turned heel and began racing down the hall, away from the strange girl and her stranger actions. A door burst open somewhere in the background, he heard her voice in Russian, trembling with something akin to terror.

He recalled thinking she’d worked to be underestimated among these people, and a small smile twitched at his lips.

Gunshots rang out as more men flooded the room, aiming at him through the bars, shouting profanities in Russian. Nikolai stumbled, evading one hit, then the next before turning the corner, his heart hammering in his chest.

Their voices faded as he followed the twists and turns of the hall. He winced. Nothing but him and the shadows, here.

Well , he thought dizzily, stumbling as he pressed a hand to his side, me, the shadows, and the bullet lodged in my abdomen .

Perhaps he should not have stopped to speak with the woman, simply taken the opportunity and run, but even as his steps became more clumsy, his head swimming with the aches of a hundred different pains, Nikolai could not bring himself to regret it.

Genya is going to murder me , he thought.

 ---

 There were no spas around, and Genya once again wished she’d gone to work at her mother’s instead of joining the Triumvirate- not for the first time. Her best agent- really, America's best agent- was missing. Had been for days. And the investigation the CIA Secretary was holding was becoming more and more intrusive, asking questions she couldn’t answer while sounding loyal to the right people.

David, bless him, had stood up for the Triumvirate in their last meeting. Our methods may be unorthodox, but we only want what’s best for our country. What’s best for The United States , his words echoed in her mind, sending a fresh well of emotion through her. When he was paying attention, her husband could really impress them.

As if reading her thoughts, the Secretary himself appeared beside Genya, light brows raised in amusement, eyes half-lidded. He seemed to retain the appearance of a drunk wherever he went, and then he spoke and one realized that he may not be drunk, but he was indeed an idiot.

“Miss Safin,” he greeted her, nodding his head once, “do you have a moment?”

Do I have a choice? She wanted to say, but held back, “of course,” 

“Is my brother around?”

She clenched her jaw at the way he said, ‘my brother’, as though Nikolai and he were close friends instead of mortal enemies. As if this entire investigation was not borne of his own jealousy towards his brother.

“No,” she said calmly, “I haven’t seen him.”

“Pity,” he said, “I wanted him to be here when I dropped the news.”

“News?” she inquired, stiffening already. Nothing that made him this smug could be good.

He turned his attention back to her, folding his hands behind his back. And had it been anyone else it may have been a regal gesture, but with Vasily, it merely emphasized his drooping stomach and tightened the buttons of his shirt. 

“Ah yes. The Triumvirate has been officially shut down.”

Genya sucked in a breath, “but sir-”

“It’s really out of my hands,” he said, though she knew it wasn’t. Genya bit her cheek against everything she wanted to say.

They had been running an investigation on a cult that had been wreaking havoc inside and out of America. It was for investigations like this, not strictly within the rules and regulations binding the CIA that the Triumvirate Unit had been created, initially. Shutting them down meant The Starless cult if they were really the ones behind all this, would get away. It meant they were no longer safe. It meant she no longer had a high position in the government.

And she still hadn’t heard from Nikolai.

 ---

 Nikolai hated Moscow. He hated every aspect of it- the way winter seemed to never leave, the way the people always cast him glares as if they knew he did not belong, and mostly, he hated their payphones. As he pressed one of their thick black plastic phones, slick with rain and some other liquid he didn’t wish to identify, closer to his ear, he wished they’d accepted the US's offer of peace years ago. Then at least, they might have bargained for some better technology.

“Who is this?” Genya’s voice, sounding skeptical. Nikolai let loose a breath, his fist clutching a stolen jacket around his body. He leaned against the cool glass of the phone booth.

“Sobachka,” he mumbled, using his code name. If the Secretary was still investigating their operations, their phone calls would be watched. He heard a beep come through as Genya switched to a secure line.

“Go,” she said.

“The Starless- it’s real, everything about that saintforsaken cult. We need to track them, start with looking into any agents that may have disappeared, dead or presumed dead."

His head was spinning and he shut his eyes tight, needing to get all the information out, needing not to pass out then and there.

"The Brum Brothers. Start there, then I need you and David to-"

"Nikolai we can't," Genya had never sounded so defeated and Nikolai stiffened. What fresh hell the Saints have in store for him now? "The Triumvirate has been shut down."

He didn't respond for a moment. Maybe he should have stolen a drink from the man who's jacket he was wearing. A drink sounded good right about then. He pressed the phone closer to his cheek again, drowning out the pain. "you don't know where I am. you haven't spoken to me, this conversation never happened."

“You’re going after them alone?”

I’m not alone , he thought, but the memory of the blue-eyed woman was already fading.

“I have to.”

Genya had always been the most reasonable among them, but at that moment Nikolai almost wished she would tell him to come home. 

"Good luck." is all she said. Then a beep echoes through the speaker, and Nikolai knows he's on his own.

Silky voices and slate gray eyes floated just out of reach of his thoughts. Whatever this cult was, whatever intentions they might have, Nikolai was going to find them.

And then, I’m going to get a very strong drink.

#hi its THEM #again #ada writes #m:w.zoyalai #zoyalai #nikolai lantsov #zoya nazyalensky #genya safin #david kostyk #grishaverse #king of scars #rule of wolves #kosfic #tgtfic #the triumvirate #m:fics #m:multichaps #tuserfatima #tuserannie #tricewithasee #idk who to tag tbh

[blacksdale]

watch what we’ll become

a crappy zoyalai fic for @aceofjesper

sh: zoyalai college au want one?

“Nazyalensky, really, I have absolutely no idea why I signed up to take any sort of science class.”

She smirked. Nikolai was back on another “I hate science” tangent, probably thanks to the bio textbook cover that was currently in his face. Zoya was studying, and he was bored, so they often sat together on her couch as Zoya studied. She continued to run her fingers through his blond curls as she read, his head in her lap as he talked about whatever was currently on his mind.

“It’s required, that’s why.” She told him, her tone flat. “You have to take it to graduate. It’s called a course requirement. I thought you would be familiar considering that you–I don’t know–go to school here.”

“That may be, tsaritsa, but that does not make me an expert.”

“It’s one of the first things they tell you when you get here.”

“Oh well,” he mused, “I must’ve missed it.”

She lowered her book to catch a glimpse of his face: bright hazel eyes glinted with mischief, a smirk playing on his lips, a light sprinkle of freckles across his nose and cheeks. His grin widened after he saw her lower the book, causing her heart to flood with something she couldn’t quite place but that she gladly welcomed. She moved a hand to cup his face, letting her finger trace across his cheekbone, along the line of his jaw. He closed his eyes, lashes fanning against his cheeks, painting a picture of someone who she still couldn’t believe was here with her. After a minute, he opened his eyes, the gold in the centre blending in the with the black of his pupil as he looked up at her. “My dearest Zoya,” he asked her softly, “my darling, why is it that we can’t spend our entire lives like this?”

She laughed momentarily before meeting his eyes again. “Spend our lives like what?”

“Sitting on your couch as you read and I talk incessantly about subjects that don’t have any real meaning. My head in your lap as you stop reading to tell me I’m disturbing you and then you see how handsome I am and stop your complaining and kiss me gently on the cheek, telling me how you love me and all I have to say.”

“I wouldn’t say I love all you have to say.” She said as she pushed a stray hair back from his forehead. “You say too much for that.”

“You do love me, though,” he smirked, “because if you didn’t then that would spectacularly ruin all my plans for us. We would never be able to move to a castle in the countryside and pretend we were a king and queen, dancing in the ballroom late at night and staring at the stars from the balcony.”

She smiled at the sight of them together, staring their lives. It was something she rarely thought about herself, but hearing Nikolai talk about all of his wishes left her a little bit giddy at times. “I would make a magnificent queen,” she mused.

“You do look dazzling in a blue gown,” he replied, reaching to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. Zoya could feel her cheeks begin to warm, despite how small the gesture was. He smiled as her cheeks began to colour and she lifted the book to hide her face again, but he already knew. “Nazyalensky, you don’t have to be ashamed that you love me. So many others do, of course. You know you are not alone in how charming you find me.”

Zoya scoffed, keeping her face hidden behind her book. “Do you ever get tired of listening to yourself?”

“Never, my tsaritsa,” he laughed, “as long as you’re here to listen to me.”

“Well, if you keep talking, then I won’t be,” Zoya said, slamming her book down beside her, allowing Nikolai to see her flushed expression.

“We will just have to find a balance, I suppose.” He took her hand, lacing their fingers together. “Though once you spend enough time with me, I’m sure you will be so enamoured that you will let me talk as much as I please.”

“You think of yourself very highly, I see.”

“If you were me, you would think so too.”

“If I had to hear me talk incessantly, I would probably replace myself with a dummy and leave myself to my ramblings as I would be too wrapped up in my own head to notice that I had been replaced with something stuffed.”

He smiled at her again, hazel eyes still sparkling. “But I would notice you were gone in a second, Nazyalensky. A dummy would never have eyes that are as pretty as yours, and I would be so hurt that you would leave me that I would wallow in my sorrows until you found me and were so taken aback that you forgave me for all that I had done.”

She smirked at him. He really was going to be the death of her. “You think my eyes are pretty?”

“You have other qualities,” he told her, “but yes, your eyes are stunning.” He raised a hand to cup her cheek. “Your beauty will forever make up for all of the biting comments you make about me.”

“Nobody else is keeping your ego in check, so it’s my responsibility,” she said, leaning into the warm touch of his hand. “And you know you love me anyway.”

He looked up at her again, eyes sparkling in the light. “I always do.”

#mine #mine.fic #zoyalai #userhannas #zoya nazyalensky #nikolai lantsov #the grisha trilogy #nikolai duology #grishaverse #m: fic #tgtfic #kosfic #gvfic #userwidd #useramma #usersultanah #writeremma #tricewithasee #usernate #tuserjules #tuserkeira #tuserfatima #userksheerja #userchai #userharry #userisha #userjordyn #fic: zoyalai

[blacksdale]

just say yes

a crappy genya/david fic for @blackkwood

@grishaverseonline valentine’s gift exchange

fluff, mild confusion, confession background zoyalai ao3

“You can’t come to the lab today, Genya.”

She crossed her arms, glaring at her boyfriend. She always went with him to the lab, even when the smell of…whatever he worked on made her want to gag. “But I always go with you to the lab,” she huffed. And you should be glad.

“We’re doing dangerous experiments,” David scribbled in his notebook, avoiding her eyes. “I can’t have you there if you’re not a part of it. I don’t want you in danger.”

Genya shuddered as she thought back to the time when some acid had almost fallen on her kefta. “Fine,” she sighed, “but next time I go on a trip, you’re not coming with me either.” She fiddled with a loose thread by her wrist.

“Fine with me,” was all he said in reply.

She walked over to him, and he met her eyes for the first time, frantically throwing his notebook in another direction. Most of the time he was so excited to show her his plans for lab experiments, so what was making him avoid talking to her?

“Well.” She kissed his cheek anyway, causing his cheeks to flush just a bit. “Goodbye then, I’ll see you tonight.” She strode in the direction of the door. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” was the last thing she heard.

–––––

From Zoya’s look of disdain and Nikolai’s absence when she arrived in the war room, it seemed that both of the boys had abandoned them for the lab that day.

“What could they possibly be planning?” Zoya threw her hands up in frustration. “Nikolai is going to blow up the lab, anyhow. He had responsibilities here. The least he could do is leave a note.”

Genya sipped her tea. She may be perturbed by David’s behaviour, but at least she would have some gossip after today. “You seem awfully annoyed that Nikolai isn’t here. You hate him. I thought a break from him would bring you some relief.”

“What would bring me relief,” she snapped, blue eyes blazing “is if he were responsible for once.” She slammed her hand on the table.

“All I’m saying is your normally relieved when he’s not around,” Genya observed. “It’s odd that you’re so anxious for him to show up.”

Zoya sat down across from her, an expression of contempt now hanging over her features.  “Can it.”

“Fine, fine,” Genya backed down as Zoya placed a stack of papers on the table between them.  “What’s on the agenda today?” She ran a hand through her hair.

Zoya placed her chin in her hand, resting her elbow on the table, the silver threads at the wrists of her kefta reflecting the light. “Double the work for us.”

Genya took part in the stack of paper, absentmindedly skimming the words she wasn’t planning to remember. “What do you think they’re doing in the lab today?” She raised an eyebrow. “David said it would have been ‘too dangerous’ for me to go today since I was not taking part in their experiment. But I’ve been there for dangerous experiments plenty of times, and he’s never sent me away.”

“Maybe they’re pranking us,” Zoya suggested. “I wouldn’t put it past Nikolai to do that.”

Genya sighed. “You should have some faith in him, you know. He does take this job very seriously.”

Zoya tossed her hair over her shoulder, meeting Genya’s eyes with a glare before going back  to her work.

“He really wants you to like him, you know,” she revealed. “At least that’s what David told me.”

“Everyone likes him. Why would my opinion make a difference?”

“David says that to him, you aren’t everyone.” She hoped Nikolai wouldn’t kill her later if he found she had told Zoya the truth.

“How is David doing, by the way?” Zoya asked, scribbling on some form. “Other than keeping you from his lab.”

I will crack you one day, Zoya Nazyalensky, she thought.

“He’s nervous,” she set down the papers, meeting Zoya’s eyes. “Well, he’s normally nervous, but now he’s more so than usual. Also more distracted. But he’s always distracted too.” She exhaled. “But something is off, I can feel it.”

Zoya slammed her pen on the table, smirking. “Fuck it,” she mused, “if they get to skip work we do too.”

“What do you–”

Zoya grabbed her hand, pulling her out of her seat and dragging her towards the door. “Where are we going?” She questioned. Zoya didn’t do this. She was losing her mind. They both were losing their minds.

“The lab.”

Oh hell yeah, they were.

“I agree,” Genya smiled.

–––––

When they got to the lab, however, nothing seemed to be going on. From what Genya knew about “dangerous experiments”, they normally resulted in holes burned in the walls and giant smoke towers or fires engulfing the building his flames or the entire floor is flooded and the lights have gone out. But today, it was almost still, which seemed to scare her even more.

Zoya walked in front of her, black hair flowing in the wind as she pushed open the door to the hall. They had to be somewhere here, she knew, and she was going to find out why.

They pushed open every boring beige door, disappointed to find only sketches of things she didn’t understand much of other than measurements. There had to be something going on, so where was it? Where were they?

Finally, she felt Zoya tug on the sleeve of her kefta and saw her pointing towards the balcony, where she saw a flash of blond hair. If they couldn’t find David, at least they could crack Nikolai for where he was.

They ran to the doors to the balcony, pushing them open and running out, only to find Nikolai and David just…sitting and talking.

“When are you gonna tell her?” was all she heard Nikolai say.

“Tell me what?”

They both turned around, eyes widening. “We thought–”

“Well, you thought wrong.” Zoya retorted. “What are you up to? And if you don’t tell me I am going to make you.”

David’s soft brown eyes blinked rapidly behind his glasses, making Genya’s heart begin to burst just slightly. She saw him breathe deep, gaze flashing from her to Nikolai to Zoya and back. She felt a pang. Maybe she shouldn’t have pushed him.

“David,” Nikolai told him, “just do it now.”

David stood up, making his way over to her. He inhaled before placing a hand on her cheek, causing her face to go red as he looked into her eye. “Genya,” he breathed, “I’m sorry I said you couldn’t come today. I just didn’t want you here because I was planning something.” The light from the sun illuminated his features, making her heart beat fast. “I never meant to make you feel hurt. I just figured you’re you, and you deserve something grand. It would take a lot of planning, as I’m not much for grand things.” He ran a finger across her cheekbone. “But sometimes plans don’t work, and they didn’t today. So I’m just going to do this right here.”

He reached his other hand into his back pocket, hiding it in his hand before bringing it between them both. Slowly, he opened his hand for Genya to find a circular red ruby faceted into a band of gold.

She felt the tears start to rise, her breath starting to catch. “David–”

“Genya Safin,” he took his hand from her cheek, getting down on one knee. “I have loved you from the moment I met you, and the longer I have known you, the more I fall in love with you again and again. Every day I wake up next to you, I wanna spend the day with you, and the more I talk to you, the more I listen to you, the more you talk to me, the more I know I want to spend the rest of the life with you.” His gaze flicked to the floor before going back to her. “So, will you, Genya Safin, make me the happiest–”

“Yes,” she croaked a tear rolling down her cheek as she went to him. He stood up, ring in hand, catching her in his arms as she crashed her lips to his, head still spinning. She couldn’t remember if it was a dream or not, but if it was, she was never waking up.

She pulled away, cupping his face in her hands as he held her waist.  “A thousand times yes.”

He slid the ring onto her finger, grabbing her hand and bringing it to his lips before wrapping her in his arms again.

Safe to say that work ended early that day.

#[im sorry this is terrible eye bleach is provided </3] #[sorry this is literal garbage] #mine #mine.fic #sh:david and genya #lit:tgt #lit:tnd #u:gv #m:fic #tgtfic #kosfic #gvfic #david kostyk #genya safin #zoya nazyalensky #nikolai lantsov #shadow and bone #the grisha trilogy #nikolai duology #grishaverse #usersana #usersultanah #useradhithi #usersnini #usersnate #userishika #userishani #tusergrace #userzara #userzuha

[blacksdale]

clandestine meetings and longing stares

a crappy zoyalai drabble for @dogdromer

sh: zoyalai post-kos want one?

“So I see you’ve picked your bride?” Zoya asked, waiting in her king’s chambers. She knew that the time would come eventually, that she would have to be prepared. But apparently, she still was not. The realisation hit her that this was the last night they would spend together. The last night they would sit in his bed and talk about whatever was on their minds, confide in each other as friends did, act as if they could keep up the charade of whatever they were.

This was their last normal day.

He sat on the bed beside her in his nightclothes, running a hand through his tousled golden hair as he gave her a melancholy smile. “I suppose I have.”

Zoya stared straight ahead as she tried to think of something to say, something that would clear the anxiety in the air. He had asked her to marry him once, back when he didn’t think there were any other options. She had turned him down of course; Ravka would never accept having a Grisha queen. Now she and Nikolai sat side by side, nervously pondering the future of their country. Nikolai would have an heir now, at the very least, as well as the backing of the Shu military against Fjerda. His proposal to Ehri had been what brought some sense of security to their falling country, a fighting chance against their enemies.

But none of that stopped Zoya’s heart from clenching inside her chest as she realized nothing would ever be the same between them.

She smiled as she stared straight ahead. “What now?” she replied, though she didn’t know if she was asking Nikolai or the world around her. “You’re going to have to charm her out of trying to kill you again.”

The mattress suddenly dipped beside where she was sitting, and Zoya whipped her head to see that Nikolai had fallen with his back against the sheets, his gaze trained on the painted constellations of his ceiling. “I think I can manage,” he mused, though his eyes had taken on a look of worry.

Zoya sighed, staring out through his window toward the night sky. This was the last time they would see the stars together.

“I hope so,” she laughed softly, “because Ravka can’t have a king if his wife keeps trying to get rid of him.”

He returned her laugh as he gently placed a hand over hers, causing Zoya to freeze for just a moment. This was the last time he would ever be there to comfort her. “That would make ruling a bit difficult, wouldn’t it?”

Finally, Zoya crashed down on the bed beside him, looking up toward the ceiling at the lanterns burning out. “I guess it would.”

She felt her fingers lace with Nikolai’s as they lay and stared at the ceiling, a look of worry and sorrow overtaking them both. He ran his thumb across the back of her hand, the gentle touch allowing her to even out her breathing. Zoya silently cursed herself for letting her head race right now, for being unable to be in the moment, for being unable to enjoy the last time she and Nikolai would be alone together in peace.

They turned to face each other for the first time that night, and for the first time, she saw the true look of nostalgia in his hazel eyes. He looked too sad to be planning his wedding; they both did. But no one could see them now, so they both shared their worries with knowing looks, no words necessary.

Finally, after a few minutes, Nikolai spoke up. “You know, I always hoped I would marry for love,” he murmured, “and that’s a stupid thing for a ruler to wish.” He sighed. “But even so, I always wanted it to come true.”

She smiled sadly across from him, chuckling just a little bit. “You had a pretty cruel awakening, then.”

“I did,” he said quietly, “didn’t I?”

Zoya returned her face to a neutral expression, allowing her eyes to calculate the room around her before focusing on him again. His blond hair shone in the lantern light, giving it a glow that made it almost look like sunlight, save for the night sky outside the window. His hazel eyes glittered, despite their sadness, the gold around the centre shining against the dark brown around the edges of his iris. She drank in the sight, knowing it was the last time she would ever see it. “You deserve better,” she told him softly, a lump rising in her throat. “It doesn’t have to be me,” she said, “but you deserve better.”

She felt his hand cup her cheek, closing her eyes as he ran his thumb along her cheek, trying to breathe easy.

“I know,” he sighed, resting his forehead on hers. “So do you.”

#userhannas #mine #mine.fic #i wrote this in an hour #thats enough explanation #lit #zoyalai #zoya nazyalensky #nikolai lantsov #the grisha trilogy #nikolai duology #grishaverse #m: fic #tgtfic #kosfic #gvfic #userwidd #tricewithasee #usernate #usersultanah #userksheerja #userharry #tuserjules #tuserkeira #userbie #tuserfatima #writeremma #tusergrace #useramma #fic: zoyalai

[blacksdale]

lost in your current

a crappy zoyalai fic

sh: zoyalai

college au

cw for light gore (nothing bad happens they just watch some criminal minds) 

ao3

“Stay,” he said.

She thought it had meant to be a joking suggestion. He would simply call her a cab, or something or other. Zoya had spent the night at his place studying, and it had gone on a lot longer than they both had anticipated. It had ended unproductively with empty coffee mugs littered around the apartment and Nikolai’s face down in a textbook, unable to look at any more calculus. Zoya had looked at the clock and realised it was past 1:30 and suggested that she should be getting home, and she was almost out the door when Nikolai had asked her not to go.

However, the remark had clearly come out a lot more serious than he had intended, causing his eyes to widen for but a brief moment.

Zoya blinked and looked back at him, blue eyes now half-lidded but still giving him the signature glare. “I’ll be fine on my own, thanks,” she retorted, “and I would honestly rather walk home in the pouring rain than deal with any more of your arrogance.”

“Nope,” he said, blinking his eyes to keep himself awake. He looked at her again, her eyebrows raised in confusion. “I’ll set up the couch. You can’t walk home now, so you can sleep here.”

Zoya looked out the living room window, seeing the rain she hadn’t realized had begun to fall. She really had been awake for too long. She definitely didn’t want to stay, but walking home alone in the pouring rain certainly didn’t seem appealing either.

She crossed her arms, eyeing him suspiciously. “Why is that any of your business?”

“Because,” he said, “It would be improper for me to let you walk home alone. And there’s no way I can mess up this face by going and getting a cold from the rain while walking you home.”

She sighed, though it was less of frustration and more of fatigue. “Fine,” she said, the lack of contempt in her voice concerning to her, “I’ll stay. But only tonight, okay?”

Nikolai laid a black fleece blanket on top of the couch cushions. “Alright, tsaritsa.”

“If you want me to stay here,” she punched him in the shoulder as she walked toward the coffee table, setting her bag on a chair, “then you can’t call me that anymore, you know.”

“Why, I thought I was the one doing you a favour here.”

“You. Wish.”

He turned around, glancing at her. Her hand subconsciously went to her hair, which she usually wore down, that was pulled behind her in a ponytail that only looked half-finished since she had only pulled her hair halfway through. Her cheeks felt too cold, and though she tried to hide it, the shivering suggested that her arms were crossed for more than just her look of disdain. Saints, she felt tired.

Nikolai finished setting up the couch, setting two pillows down at one end. “You need something to sleep in,” he remarked.

She looked up at him, stormy blue eyes still sending a glare his way. “You better not say ‘my bed’, or else I’m going to strangle you.”

“But you're freezing,” he said, smirking. “Also, I meant pyjamas.”

“Still, I think I can survive being 'freezing' for a few hours.” She said though her pulling her coat tighter around her seemed to say otherwise.

“I'll get you a sweatshirt and some pyjama pants.” He began to walk toward his room, turning back to give her one last look. “Be back in a minute, tsaritsa.”

“They won't even fit, you know!” she called to him, “you're too weirdly tall.”

“Well, you're weirdly short!”

“Fuck you!”

-----

Zoya stepped out of the bathroom in a navy blue hoodie and black pyjama pants, both of which were way too big on her. She took a look in the mirror and scrunched her nose at the look. She looked ridiculous, yet for some reason, she felt oddly comforted. She hated the latter a lot more. “I look like I was swallowed by some college boy’s closet.”

No reply.

“You know, if you’re not here I’m gonna leave.”

She couldn't think of anything else he could possibly be doing right now other than being stupid, so what was the silence? She snapped her head over to see if he had set some fire or flooded his kitchen or something of that nature, but he didn't. Instead, he was just staring.

At her.

“Oh, what the hell are you looking at?” she complained loudly, causing him to blink rapidly and shake his head.

“Looking at what?”

Zoya turned her attention back toward the mirror. “Is there something in my hair? And why are you not telling me? Yes, I know it looks awful but you don't need to make a scene.” She ran her fingers through her dark hair, trying to detangle whatever knots were in there, the effort proving futile as her scalp hurt the more she pulled at it. She gave up and crossed her arms, huffing at her reflection. Her shoulder-length black hair was too frizzy, the bags under her eyes too visible even with her glasses too foggy, and she was increasingly becoming more resentful to how big these clothes were on her.

After dragging her feet into the other room, Zoya lay on the couch that Nikolai had made up for her. She hadn’t expected it to be so comfortable, she realised, as she sank into the grey-coloured cushions and pulled a fleece blanket over herself. Despite the enormous sweatshirt she was wearing, she was still somehow too cold. Was the thermostat broken? Or did Nikolai just like to freeze his ass off every night. Either way, it wasn’t worth pondering, so she reached for the remote on the coffee table and curled up against one end of the couch. She flipped through the Netflix shows for an oddly long time, rolling her eyes at all of the cliche sitcoms Nikolai had seen, before finally settling on something to watch right now. Yes, she was tired, but that didn’t mean she slept easily. She needed something to soothe her to sleep.

She was about ten minutes into the episode when she heard footsteps behind her, followed by a sigh and what sounded like a facepalm. “Zoya, you know this show keeps me awake. It’s disturbing.”

“It’s not disturbing,” she scoffed. “You’re just a wimp.”

“There’s a corpse with acid burns where the eyes used to be in the middle of the screen.”

“This isn’t even close to the worst one.” She muttered, turning her head to look at him standing behind her.

He walked over to sit on the couch beside her, holding a hand in front of him to keep from seeing the TV. “I still don’t understand how you watch this before you sleep.”

“I have many talents that you happen to not have a shred of aptitude for,” Zoya replied, her tone deadpan.

“I,” he said, lowering his hand after the scene went away, “am talented in all aspects. But that,” he said, gesturing toward Zoya and her indifferent expression, “is not a talent. That just means you have something wrong with you.”

She rolled her eyes at his stupid comments, resenting how her heart had begun to beat faster. “There’s a lot more,” she told him, lightly shoving her palm into his temple, “that’s wrong with you.”

“I don’t know what you’re suggesting, tsaritsa. Everything about me is perfect.”

She looked over at him, taking in his tousled golden hair and perfect smile. He hated this show, and she couldn’t tell for the life of her why he was staying to watch it with her. She turned her attention back to the TV, hoping to hide the colour coming into her cheeks. He was only letting her stay as a favour. They were just friends, that’s all. Just good friends. He just felt obligated to ask her and she just didn’t feel like walking home. Zoya tried her best to focus on the rest of the episode. She swore she could feel Nikolai drawing closer, but she didn’t dare look over and give him the satisfaction of him having her attention. To her dismay, the combination of the action happening onscreen and the strain in the room with him only seemed to make her more awake. She sat up a little bit more, trying to calm her mind, keep her feelings in check. She would not let herself fall, not now.

She looked over towards Nikolai about halfway through the episode, finding his hazel eyes to be wide open, though he did seem to be invested. She thought about teasing him for all the times he made fun of her. She took a glance back at the TV. “You might not want to be this invested,” she said, causing him to look over at her.

He smiled at her and raised an eyebrow. “And why might that be?”

She thought about what was about to happen, considering the first time she saw this episode. “This is the part where it gets super gory, and you’re going to want to leave, so–”

But suddenly Zoya couldn’t remember anything that had ever happened on Criminal Minds, because Nikolai’s lips had caught hers.

Oh, okay.

He was kissing her. That was what was happening. Her thoughts were swimming too much, between the studying and the invite to stay and the sweatshirt he gave her and how soft his lips were on hers. Everything else that day, everything else ever seemed to fade as he pulled her closer by the waist and threaded his fingers in her hair. She fisted her hands in his t-shirt, pulling him towards her so she could kiss him deeper, feel his heart beat in sync with hers.

He pulled away breathless a few minutes later, smirking as he brought his focus back to the show, leaving her with no acknowledgement.

––––––

Zoya Nazyalenasky wasn’t used to being left speechless, but apparently, this was a day for firsts.

It wasn’t that she hadn’t thought about kissing him more than enough times, but she had been wrong about how he would feel. How her thoughts would melt, how her self-control and common sense would falter, how much she would want it. How much she would want him and his everything. She didn’t know how much she would miss his lips and his touch once he pulled away.

And why had he pulled away so quickly? What did that do for him? She knew he didn’t really feel that way about her, of course. But for just one millisecond she had thought that maybe he returned how she felt.

Her eyes were in an out of focus until the episode ended, and she paused the screen and turned to him, her expression furious. He smirked, seeming so nonchalant despite everything that had just taken place.

She threw her hands up in frustration and shouted at him. “Nikolai, what the hell was that for?” Stop making me question everything I do.

He chuckled lightly, acting oddly okay with it all. “Why, tsaritsa, what else does someone do as a distraction from scary movies?”

She raised an eyebrow at him in confusion, making the disdain in her voice for him apparent. “I don’t know, maybe they don’t watch the movie anymore? Or they go get food? Or do literally anything other than kiss a girl they don’t really like? Especially when they are already friends with her and have around 15 people on speed dial for hookups. Oh wait, no.” Why was he so ignorant? Why was he smiling? Hell, he looked like he was about to laugh. “If you wanted a hookup, you would have just gone for it. You wouldn’t have planned the whole ‘stay with me, it’s late’ rouse. So you just wanted to fuck with me.”

Zoya finally smirked as everything changed at the last statement she made. He no longer looked like he had a leg up like he knew what she was going to say. He, surprisingly, looked very hurt. She wished he just hadn’t been stupid in the first place, but now at least she was winning this. Winning whatever bullshit game he was playing.

She fake-smiled as she went to leave the apartment, blinking back the tears she wished would stop flowing because she would not let herself become heartbroken now. “That was fun. Good for you. I can’t believe you just pull that shit and get away with it. I’m leaving now,” she told him, feeling her voice start to crack. She turned to face him for the first time. “Have fun with the rest of your life.”

Soon, though, any idea of leaving dissolved. Damn him, damn it all. Damn his gorgeous hazel eyes and his charm and his cleverness. This time, his lips came over hers harder, the force enough to cause her to stumble backwards and fall into the couch. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pulling him down with her as he held her closer and closer. Zoya could feel everything around her fade as he kissed her deeper and deeper. He pulled her onto his lap as he sat down, letting her wrap her legs around him. She could feel the heat spreading from her chest to the rest of her. She was burning up, and right now, she was content if that was how she would go. She leaned back against the couch cushions, letting her fingers thread in his hair as he trailed kisses down her neck and to her collarbone, leaving her breathless. She could feel herself falling to him as his lips met hers again, telling her everything he had been waiting to say.

Nikolai pulled away, after a while, his blond hair tousled and cheeks coloured. He kept an arm around her shoulders as she rested her head on his shoulder. Zoya looked to him, eyes half-lidded with delirium and relief and other things she would never be able to place. “Did you ever stop and think,” he asked her softly, “that maybe I kissed you because I like you?”

“You like me,” she whispered, laughing quietly as she met his eyes. She couldn’t see the gold around the centre anymore, only the dark brown around the edges. The rest was swallowed up by the black of his pupils. “And is that all?”

“No,” he told her, kissing her hair, “that doesn’t even begin to cover it.” He tightened his grip around her, just enough for her to become a little more lost in wanting. “First,” he explained, “I would tell you how you’re incredibly smart, and how you can do anything you ever put your mind to.” He kissed her forehead. “I would tell you how you’re wonderful, how you mesmerize me, how I could look into your eyes forever if I could.” He kissed her cheek. “I would tell you how I would think of telling you that, but I would see you and forget whatever I had wanted to say just because you became all I could see.” He kissed her lips again, this time slow and soft, but it still caused her to see stars. “And there’s so much more I would tell you, but that would take about as long as it did for me to tell you I liked you in the first place.” He smiled and laughed lightly, and her heart almost burst at the sight. He had been all she had ever wanted.

#mine #userhannas #mine.fic #yes ik its bad #eye bleach is provided #sh: zoyalai #zoyalai #ch: nikolai lantsov #nikolai lantsov #ch: zoya nazyalensky #zoya nazyalensky #lit: the grisha trilogy #the grisha trilogy #lit: nikolai duology #nikolai duology #u: grishaverse #grishaverse #m: fic #tgtfic #kosfic #gvfic #userwidd #writeremma #usersultanah #tuserzahra #tricewithasee #usersnate #tuserkeira #tuserjules #thats it sorry to anyone who reads this

[zoyalais-moved]

Serendipity

World: canonverse, post-kos

Ship: Zoyalai

Word Count: 1875

zoyalai movie watching as requested by @hannachen​

want one?

AO3

There was something charming about the palace gardens during the day.

Nikolai recalled as much from his childhood- this was the place he and Dominik snuck off to when the parties were too loud or Vasya and his friends had stolen a bottle and the drink had opened their eyes to all the ways they could hurt two young boys. 

He wondered if that made this a sad place. It didn’t feel sad, though the clench in Nikolai’s chest suggested otherwise. 

Whatever it was, it no longer belonged to two clever little boys. As if on cue, voices rose from beyond the trees. Nikolai ducked beneath a particularly low branch before stepping out into the field beside the lake, where a group of students were gathered around two forms at the edge of the water.

A young Suli girl in a blue kefta with pale embroidered cuffs had both hands raised over the lake, palms open as if beckoning the water to come. She was standing at least a foot away from the surface, on her tiptoes as if the added height might give her more power over the water. Beside her, Zoya was frowning. She hadn’t noticed him yet, and Nikolai paused to watch the learning session.

The girl’s face scrunched up, her hands shaking with some unseen effort. The lake remained unphased. 

“Anaya,” Zoya’s tone was sharp. And the girl’s cheeks pinked further at her name, brows furrowing as she struggled with it for a moment. All the children had turned their attention to the water’s surface, and after a brief struggle, a single ripple formed beneath her spread palms.

The girl pulled back, gasping, and grinned. One of the children hooted.

“Don’t look so pleased, that could very well have been the wind.” Zoya’s sharp voice cut through the crowd. Ouch , thought Nikolai. He’d been rather impressed as well, but then Nikolai would never have the affinity for summoning of any kind, so that wasn't unexpected. 

The girl’s face fell, “but I did everything right!” she protested.

“Clearly not,” said Zoya. She moved to stand closer to the water and glanced at it before returning her attention to the girl, studying her for a moment. “You fear the water.”

A few chuckles came from the students, and the girl dipped her head in shame. 

“No partnership can be built on fear, Anaya. So long as you believe the water is your enemy, it will never be your friend.”

One of the students snorted, and Zoya’s sharp eyes found him in seconds.

“Something to say, Varlaam?” she asked with a raised brow. Nikolai was genuinely surprised when the boy responded. The look Zoya fixed with him could have crippled armies.

“Sorry Ms Nazyalensky, but we aren’t partnering with our abilities, we’re commanding them.” he corrected her, a cocky grin turning his lips. 

“I’m sure you commanded the fire to burn your arm and land you in the infirmary for a week, yes?” 

The boy’s face turned red and he scowled, stepping back as the children around him began laughing. Nikolai noticed for the first time that his blue kefta was embroidered with red. In fact, more reds and purples dotted the crowd of students, as well. 

Grisha, but no longer separated by order. 

“Power isn’t about command, it’s about partnership. Shared trust. Knowing that the other has your back as much as you do theirs,” Zoya was saying, her eyes traveling over each of the students in turn before settling on Nikolai. “Isn’t that right, Your Highness?”

The students startled, some gasping as they spun around to see Nikolai. An amused smile tilted his lips. She hadn’t glanced up once since he’d arrived, but Nikolai had no doubt that she’d known he was there from the start. 

He folded his hands behind his back, and addressed the students. “Certainly, but do keep in mind that being the one in charge sometimes has its perks. Such as now, when I tell you all to go back to your dorms and have cake. Do we have cake? I’ll ask the chef to make cake- something with almonds.”

A few of the students hooted, scattering off already, but Zoya remained unimpressed. 

“Says who?”

“The King,” Nikolai replied, before indicating the crown sitting on his head, whispering, “that’s me!”

Zoya rolled her eyes, but the little girl beside her laughed. Nikolai noticed that it was the same one who’d struggled to create a ripple and smiled at her.

“Anaya! I thought your performance was very impressive,” he said, watching her eyes go wide. “Go on now, you’ll continue on tomorrow.”

He watched her catch up to her friends, a grin on her face, and smiled to himself.

“Why did you say that? Now she’ll spend another week behind the rest of the class.”

“She deserved a little encouragement,” Nikolai said.

“From an Otkazat’sya ?” Zoya snorted, earning a glare from Nikolai. “What are you doing here anyway? I assume it's important, since you just dismissed my class.” she crossed her arms and raised a brow at him.

Nikolai tried not to notice the way her hair was falling out of its braid, but the loose strands seemed to call to him, and he had to fight the urge to reach over and tuck them away. 

He shrugged, “I thought you might like to have the evening off,” he said, wincing at his lack of a creative excuse. 

Genya would kill him if she knew.

She frowned, “why would I…” then realization dawned on her face, and her glare was back, full force, only this time it was aimed at Nikolai. “Genya put you up to this! Oh, for Saints’ sake Nikolai, I told you-”

“-not to do anything for your birthday, yes I heard.” he paused, “but this is completely unrelated, I promise you.”

She eyed him doubtfully, “what exactly is it?”

Now, Nikolai couldn’t stop the grin from spreading over his face, “a surprise.”

---

Zoya let her curiosity get the best of her, a mistake she only seemed to make with Nikolai. 

She tried to summon her usual irritation and snark, but Nikolai was grinning like a boy about to show off his new toy. It was a contagious sort of excitement that had her heart racing for unknown reasons.

“-it’s something David and I have been trying to perfect for months. Well, years, more like, but the focus on it tripled since…” his gaze slid to a maid crossing the hall and his voice lowered, even as he threw a smile her way, “well, you know since when.”

Since the Darkling returned and wreaked havoc on our door? As though she could forget.

A bit of her enthusiasm dampened with the reminder. He was still chained up in a holding cell, guards around every day, and either Zoya or Nikolai coming to check his bonds once a day. Still, his presence was unnerving, and she could almost feel it seeping into her happiness every day, tainting her world. 

You don’t get to take my family away , she thought, not again .

Zoya was so lost in her own thoughts that when Nikolai stopped in front of her, she walked right into him. 

He raised a brow, hazel eyes still dancing with the secret of whatever lay beyond the door. 

“Before you enter, you should know that while it wasn’t intended for your birthday, this might feel like a bit of a celebration. Entirely coincidence, I promise.”

“Coincidence?” she deadpanned. 

Nikolai grinned, “serendipity.”

She shook her head, pushing past him to the door. They were near the labs, and she could hear a faint sound of something playing- a record? She frowned, pushing it open.

Zoya wasn’t sure what she expected, but this was not it. The lights had been switched off, curtains shut. Someone shouted “surprise!”- Genya?, a second voice hushed her. Zoya could hardly see. Then a switch flicked on and a rectangle of light appeared on the wall, causing Zoya to frown.

She could now make out the blankets someone had spread on the floor of the empty guest room, and the forms of her friends in the dim light- Genya and David huddled together, Tamar with her head on Nadiya’s lap. And Tolya, who was sitting behind a large box-like contraption pouring light out onto the empty wall. 

Nikolai closed the door behind her, and Genya patted the place beside her excitedly. 

“Look- see that?” Nikolai indicated the box. “It’s a sort of record player- records from the Wandering Isle, they’ve got plays, performed on stage, and with a little bit of effort from David, and the wonderful Nadiya we managed to-”

“Nikolai shut up and sit! ”

Zoya startled at Genya’s voice, raising a brow. She couldn’t help the smile growing on her face as her eyes returned to the wall which was now playing a series of moving pictures- people on a stage, leather masks over some of their faces. She didn’t tear her gaze away as she settled beside Genya on the blankets, leaving room for a scowling Nikolai to sit at her right.

He shifted beside her as the pictures began to play, and it took a minute for Zoya to realize he was watching her reaction.

A small smile touched her lips, her gaze settling on him for a moment- eyes lit up with excitement, a grin on his face, hair slightly mussed. 

She leaned in closer as sound filtered in from some unknown source and whispered to Nikolai, “not such a bad coincidence, then.”

His grin amplified, and he beamed like a proud child. 

Genya shushed them, but the light allowed Zoya to make out the last word Nikolai mouthed.

Serendipity .

She rolled her eyes, shifting a bit closer to him and smacking his shoulder. Nikolai only laughed, causing both Tamar and Genya to spin back and shush him. 

Zoya hid a smile. She thought of her promise earlier, about not losing a second family. How was it that these people had once been strangers to her? And yet now she couldn’t picture a happy day spent without them. The woman who gave birth to her was absent, and Zoya felt no remorse towards that.

If Liliyana and Lada were here , she thought with a pang, it would have been perfect.

She let her eyes focus entirely on the moving pictures, but her mind turned up name after name, and Alina, and Mal, and Harshaw, and Sergei, and-

A brush against her arm jolted her back to the present. Zoya looked over to see Nikolai, eyes on the screen, a frown overtaking his face. Of course he’d known what was on her mind, had likely thought the same thing.

Nikolai had said he’d been working on a project since the Darkling’s return, and Zoya thought perhaps it was a weapon. But this was Nikolai , and he had developed something for his friends to relax, for the people he loved to take some time off and enjoy themselves, a little less stress and a few more smiles.

Her heart did something strange in her chest.

Without saying a word, Zoya let her fingers lace with Nikolai’s, squeezing once. 

Maybe he was right about that, maybe some coincidences were good ones.

#[I was gonna do college au but my brain was like WHAT IF-] #[...sorry?] #my writing* #m:fics #sh:zoyalai #lit:tgt #lit:tnd #tgtfic #tndfic #nikolai lantsov #zoya nazyalensky #zoyalai #king of scars #rule of wolves #grishaverse #userwidd #usersultanah #tuserannie #[who. do i tag.]

[blacksdale]

useless apologies

a crappy zoyalai fic for @chenhideos

sh: zoyalai idk what this is im sorry want one?

Nikolai found Zoya in the palace gardens after their meeting. She sat staring at the distance, a melancholy look in her sapphire eyes. The light from the setting sun cast a faint glow over her, outlining her features as if she were in a painting, her eyes closed with her lashes fanned out against her cheeks, dark hair lifted slightly by the wind. Her kefta was pulled tight around her to fight against the chill in the air, making her seem almost small as if she was folding in on herself. His unbreakable commander somehow seemed fragile, like something had managed to slip through the cracks in the walls she had built up.

Nikolai hated more than anything that he had been the one to cause it.

He took his place beside her on the bench, focusing on the sunset in the distance, trying to keep his heart from pounding faster than it already was. He looked a little higher to see semi-realistic clouds bathed in the light pink and gold of the early evening sky. If Zoya never talked to him again, at least he would get to enjoy this view with her.

“I hope you know,” he began softly, “I really am sorry.”

A huff came from beside him, and he could hear Zoya shift to cross her arms. “Well, you should be.”

Saints, what had he done?

Nikolai had spent so much time trying to earn her trust, trying to get her to hear it, get her to like him. She had come to work with him when she was only 18, having to run a crumbling country when she should still be in school. Despite how she would not have conversations with him outside of official government settings, he had tried his very best to know her, to learn what she liked, what she hated. He had brought her a different tea every day for a month, just so that he could know what made her happy, and when she told him it was chai he found someone to teach him how to properly make it so that she could have it every day. He found out what desserts she liked at parties, which music she liked to listen to while she worked. He had told her about his childhood, his time in the army, about Dominik and how his death destroyed him. He had told her about the time he spent on the Volkvolny, how trapped he had felt when the Darkling had cursed him. He told her about his troubles and anxieties he had about ruling so that she would know the facade he put him wasn’t actually him, hoping that maybe she would see him as a person and someone she could talk with, to know him in a way that was genuine and true. It had taken him a year to earn enough trust from her to the point where she finally told him about where she grew up, her mother’s antics, how Liliyana took her in, how she had run back after the battle with the Darkling to find a scribbled name on a wall to be the only thing left of her aunt. And he had thrown that trust away with a single ignorant question.

“I shouldn’t have been so quick to anger,” he told her, “as you were only asking a simple question. I was just confused since you were the one who pushed me to marry in the first place.” He paused. “I suppose it’s going to be a change for all of us, this marriage. We will be working more with Ehri now.” He smiled sadly at Zoya, whose black hair was obscuring her face as she continued to avoid him. “We have gotten used to our routine. Just you, me, Genya, and David. Our little cohort.”

“That’s not why I’m mad.”

Nikolai turned to see that she was facing him, blue eyes puffy and cheeks flushed. He felt a tug in his chest, and all of his emotions suddenly sank because he had done this. He had somehow managed to crush her, and he didn’t know how. Which meant he couldn’t fix it.

He had told her, “You were the one who said to marry. So why are you so mad that I did?”

All he wanted to do was fix it. The need for her to like him from when they first met suddenly returned, causing his thoughts to race and his pulse to quicken. He needed her to forgive him. She had to. He didn’t even care if she really did; he just wanted to hear it from her so that he could trick himself to think some part of her no longer hated him.

“So,” he asked, trying to keep his voice steady, “why are you mad, then?”

Zoya crossed her arms, folding in on herself again, focusing on the horizon again. “You can’t be that oblivious,” she said, her voice flat.

“Zoya, please.” Maybe she would listen if he actually said her name. He tried to take her hand, but she pulled it away from him before he could reach her. “Oblivious to what?”

A sigh came from beside him, and he turned to see a tear run down her cheek. “It would only complicate things if I told you,” she said, her voice breaking at the last word.

A sense of panic suddenly came over him. He reached for her hand again, though he had nothing he could say that he knew would make things better. “There must be something I can do to make this up to you.”

She shook her head, standing up from the bench and wiping her eyes. She looked at him again, the sorrow in her eyes becoming almost too much for him. She didn’t look angry anymore, just sad. “No,” she told him, “it’s not your fault.” She began to walk back toward the palace. “I’ll see you tomorrow, your Highness.”

Staring at the sunset, Nikolai pondered his general until dark. Sometimes he forgot he still had so much to learn about her. He felt so ignorant for never realising something so obvious. Maybe behind all of her anger and walls, she still wished for someone to know her too.

#mine #userhannas #mine.fic #providing eye bleach w this one #zoyalai #zoya nazyalensky #nikolai lantsov #the grisha trilogy #nikolai duology #grishaverse #m: fic #tgtfic #kosfic #gvfic #userwidd #usersultanah #tricewithasee #writeremma #userzahra #userzara #useramma #userksheerja #userharry #tuserkeira #tuserjules #userisha #usernate #fic: zoyalai

[blacksdale]

impasse

a crappy zoyalai drabble for @storm-dog-pirate

sh: zoyalai i dont know what this is either ♡ + a ship for 100 500 word fic  anna’s new account

“So you plan to what exactly?” Zoya questioned. She rolled her eyes at her imbecile of a king.

She knew Nikolai didn’t have one, really. She just needed to help him realise why.

“As I said:” he began, “I marry Ehri, we have an alliance with the Shu. Use their army and money to fend off the Fjerdans and purchase the jurda from Novyi Zem to make the antidote.”

Zoya pinched the bridge of her nose, unable to comprehend how he hadn’t realized their plan was futile yet. “And what will they do when they know we’re making an antidote for the thing that fuels their military?”

He stopped dead then, realising once and for all that there were no more options. She wished he didn’t have to realise this now, that he had realised before as she had. Not only because it might mean they would be prepared for what might come, but because the look of defeat on his face caused something in her chest to tighten. He sat back in his chair as he stared straight ahead, the expression on his face changing from frustration to something blank like he had felt all the frustration he could and now felt nothing at all.

“Zoya,” he asked quietly. “What are we going to do?” It had finally hit him: they were caught between a rock and a hard place, and there would be no getting out. Nikolai, who was always so positive, so upbeat, even when everything had gone wrong, sounded so destroyed.

She sat down beside him, placing her hands in her lap as her shoulders tensed. Seeing him hurt somehow caused her to hurt too, although she had known what was coming for them. Maybe it was because she had only known. She had never truly believed it. It should have happened earlier; she had known, hadn’t she? She had known for so long that it all was hopeless. But now, sitting in the room alone with the most optimistic person she knew, the one who could smile when everything was falling, losing hope, it hit her like a truck. All of the negotiations they had made, the meetings they endured, the loans that they had taken, the battles they had fought were all for nothing.

Almost instinctively, Zoya reached to her left, taking Nikolai’s hand in hers. She didn’t know why she did, and she knew she would regret it later. But she could think of nothing else in that moment that might help. She laced their fingers together as his hand tensed, then relaxed. His calloused hands were warm on hers, offering her comfort she didn’t know she wanted as they sat in silence, the feeling of hopelessness hanging over them.

She wished she could tell him what their plan was, but the reason she had asked him was that she didn’t have one either.

#userhannas #mine #mine.fic #so sorry its bad am #u deserve better i know #zoyalai #zoya nazyalensky #nikolai lantsov #the grisha trilogy #nikolai duology #grishaverse #m: fic #tgtfic #kosfic #gvfic #am tag #userwidd #usersultanah #tuserkeira #tricewithasee #writeremma #userharry #userzahra #tuserjules #useramma #fic: zoyalai

[blacksdale]

best mistake

a crappy zoyalai drabble for @storm-dog-pirate

sh: zoyalai college au want one?

“Lantsov,” Nikolai heard, along with the pounding of a fist on his apartment door. “Open up NOW or I swear-”

He opened his door and tilted his head down to find an angry Zoya, arms crossed, glaring at him from behind her glasses. He was glad to see her, of course. He just wasn’t glad she came to see him like this.

He rubbed his temples, trying to will his headache to go away. “Lovely to see you as well, Nazyalensky.”

She stomped past him into his apartment, throwing her bag on a chair and turning back toward him in an angry huff. She walked back across the apartment to stand across from him, lifting her head so she could look him in the eye. “Lantsov, what the hell?” She shouted. Shit.

He knew that he had done something, of course. He just didn't know exactly what. Last night was pretty much a blur. He and his friend had gone back to his apartment after exams, the stress overtaking them. There was no party thrown; his apartment was fairly clean save for the magazines strewn on the table and his kitchen counter littered with junk food. But he and Dominik had sat on the couch and shared a few too many bottles of brandy, rambling on about things he could no longer remember.

He could not tell if Zoya was mixing his thoughts or clearing them, but he did know she would not leave until she had an explanation for…whatever he had done.

He looked back at her again, smiling even though it hurt him. “I don't know what you mean, Nazyalensky,” he replied, his voice sounding a lot wearier than he would've liked.

“Oh Saints,” she sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose, “for fucks sake.” She reached into her pocket and took out her phone, angrily pressing in the password and hitting play on what he realised was a voicemail.

A voice mail that he had apparently sent.

“Zoya,” the voice–his voice–said, “I hope it's okay that I called you that. I know I don't use your first name but–you know what I'm gonna call you Zoya because it's your name and it's pretty. Like you. You're pretty. And smart. Even if you're mean.” The voicemail paused for him to giggle for a few seconds. “But,” he continued, still giggling, “I like it when you're mean. It's adorable. And I especially love when you're mean and the person isn't expecting it. Because they get a look on their face of shock, and then you smile.” he stopped laughing then, and he began to sound wistful. “I love it when you smile. And I love you, even though you make fun of me a shit ton. Well, I like you, technically. That's what I was going to tell you. I wouldn't say I love you first because that's too much, and I can't be scaring you off before I have you. But I guess so. I love your face. And you. You're perfect, Zoya. But I would still love you even if you weren't perfect. But I just,” he paused again, “wanted you to know. For future reference. I love you.”

The phone went silent.

Zoya crossed her arms, blue eyes piercing through him yet again. “So,” she accused, “we’re just going to ignore the fact that you drunk-dialled me to tell me you love me?”

He stared at her again. He hadn’t meant to tell her, not like this. He had planned to actually take her out and be in a relationship, first of all. He had hoped that he would know she loved him too. He would have told her quietly, so only she could hear it because they would be the only two that needed to know. And instead, he had ruined it by doing something stupid out of stress from his exams.

Nikolai had so much to say most of the time, but he had no idea what to say to Zoya now. He blinked, trying to keep the headache from messing with his thoughts. “I guess,” he told her, “that’s what happened.”

She looked at him again, the anger in her eyes now mixed with confusion and what could have possibly been hurt. Oh, what had he done?

“It’s true,” he blurted out. “There you have it.” He threw his hands up in the air in defeat. “I’m sorry. You probably hate me now even more than you already did. You can leave now if you want. Just please don’t let people know.” He pleaded at her with big eyes, hoping just this once she wouldn’t be cold to him.

Zoya walked up to him from across the room, standing so they were only two inches apart. She looked up at him, the anger gone from her eyes as she moved her hand to cup his cheek, calming his racing thoughts. She stood on her tiptoes then, and she kissed him softly. Nikolai couldn’t understand why, for the hell of it, but oh thank the Saints, she didn’t hate him. He brought a hand to hold her by the waist, pulling her closer to him.

She pulled away a minute later, lifting a hand to push a stray hair back from his forehead. “You’re still gonna have to take me out on a date, you know?” She laughed, her smile lighting up his whole morning.

He kissed her cheek, smiling stupid, before leaving her and going to make himself a coffee. “I know.”

#userhannas #mine #mine.fic #i have no idea what was happening when i wrote this #so i apologise #zoyalai #zoya nazyalensky #nikolai lantsov #the grisha trilogy #nikolai duology #grishaverse #m: fic #tgtfic #kosfic #gvfic #am tag #userwidd #tricewithasee #writeremma #usersultanah #tuserjules #usersnate #userharry #usersisha #useradhithi #useramma #fic: zoyalai

[blacksdale]

racing thoughts

a crappy zoyalai drabble for @plrate

sh: zoyalai i dont know what this is honestly im so sorry ♡ + a ship for 100 500 word fic  anna’s new account

They sat side by side in a swinging bench on the balcony, gazing at the stars as if they were ordinary people.

Zoya sat with her head on Nikolai’s shoulder, her arms wrapped tight around his waist as he talked on about constellations and their meanings. She didn’t know a lot about what he was saying. He knew a lot about most of what they saw, which was even more. But even so, she listened because whether or not she would admit it to herself, she loved him. Even more than that, she loved the happiness she saw in him now, which she had not seen in so long. He kept an arm around her shoulders as he told her story of this one and that, occasionally taking her hand so he could point to where the stars were in the sky, hoping one day they would align so he could always be as happy as he was now. But he still ran a country, and there were still difficult decisions to be made.  

Apparently, he wore the look of doubt on his face though, because in the middle of the night Zoya looked over to him, concern in her stormy blue eyes. “Something’s wrong,” she observed. Her eyes moved, calculating the night around them seeing if there was something she could see, something she could analyze, something she could figure out how to fix. “Nikolai, what’s happened?”

He met her eyes as he turned to face her, hoping he could keep the rest of his emotions in check as she studied him too. “Nazyalensky,” he told her. He tried his best to keep the anxiety from seeping into his voice. “It’s nothing.”

“No,” she replied, raising a hand to cup his face. She ran her thumb along his cheekbone, causing his thoughts to race but somehow calm all at once. She steadied him with her gaze as her blue eyes pierced into him, grounding him in reality. “It’s not.”

He gave her a sad smile. “Not in particular.” He tightened his arm around her shoulder, causing her to sink into him again. It was Zoya, he realized, that made the anxiety bearable, that made the tireless efforts of his job worth doing.

“All these years I’ve known you,” she said softly. She was almost laughing, though he could tell there was worry in her voice more than anything. “And I still can never figure out what’s going on inside your head.”

He gazed outside of the balcony into the sky again, trying to see if the stars had aligned themselves differently by now.

“Yeah,” he said, leaning his head to rest on hers. “Me neither.”

#mine #userhannas #mine.fic #sorry i know its bad #leave me be #i wrote this after being awake for 20 straight hours #zoyalai #zoya nazyalensky #nikolai lantsov #the grisha trilogy #nikolai duology #grishaverse #m: fic #tgtfic #kosfic #gvfic #widd tag #userwidd #usersultanah #tuserjules #tricewithasee #userharry #userzahra #useramma #fic: zoyalai

[blacksdale]

just convincing enough

a crappy zoyalai drabble for @blue-drarry-drarry-blue

sh: zoyalai a night of dancing and avoidance of people and feelings want one?

Zoya liked parties, for the most part. Dancing, food, drinks, the amount of drinking that usually caused something funny to happen. She was a fan of that.

The people, however, she was not a fan of. Especially the one she could see walking toward her at that very moment. Now. She would not talk to any more snobby Ravkan nobles tonight, not unless they wanted to be stabbed. She needed a way out.

Hazel eyes met hers from across the room. Though it was not the method she preferred, she had found a way. They met in the middle of the dance floor, Nikolai taking her in his arms right on queue. “Why, tsaritsa, are we avoiding more suitors tonight?” He whispered in her ear as they danced. She tried her best to hide the blood that came rushing to her cheeks.

She blinked, trying to bring her thoughts back into focus. “Wonder how you guessed,” she replied, deadpan.

He pulled away to look at her, his hazel eyes piercing into her thoughts in a way that caused her to want to go still. She kept dancing, trying to ignore the way he was holding her close, his hands at her waist as they danced through the night, how even after the party was over she did not want him to let go. How his eyes kept drifting to her lips. She was only doing this to reroute the attention of some nobles, after all. But Zoya looked across the room and still saw them looking at her. She cast a look towards Genya, seeing if she could somehow ask for help, but she knew Genya would try and initiate exactly what she was avoiding. So she danced with Nikolai into the next song, then another, and another, hoping it would be enough to get the nobles to leave her alone.

But still, it wasn’t. Because two more were sauntering over to her and Nikolai, looking as if they had drunk to stupidity. She needed out of this now. The dancing hadn’t worked even when he had twirled her and brought her back just to catch her, even though at this very moment she was resting her head on his shoulder. She needed something foolproof.

“Your highness,” she demanded quietly. “Kiss me.”

He pulled away to meet her eyes again, a smirk appearing on his lips. “My general, of course, I understand why you would wish for that, but this is hardly the time and place.”

“Nikolai,” she demanded again.

“Tsaritsa, I think we can wait for another hour since you’re walking me to my bed after this party is over anyway.”

She stomped on his foot, nodding her head toward the men in drunken stupors currently coming to ruin her night. His eyes widened, putting the pieces together as he looked back from the party guests, to Zoya, and the party guests again.

“Nikolai.” she stomped on his foot again. “They’re coming. Hurry up and kiss me or I swear–”

She was silenced when his lips came over hers in the middle of the dance floor, catching her off guard and causing her to stumble. He caught her with one hand at the waist, pulling her closer, causing her to almost melt at the touch. She wrapped her arms tighter around his shoulders, pulling him down to her. Saints knew she was never going to do this again. But his lips were so soft, and he wasn’t pulling away either. His other hand went to cup her cheek, the gentle touch of his fingers causing her to almost burn up.

He pulled away a few seconds later, hands returning to her waist as the song changed once more, keeping up the charade for a few moments longer.

#mine #userhannas #mine.fic #juj tag #zoyalai #nikolai lantsov #zoya nazyalensky #the grisha trilogy #nikolai duology #grishaverse #m: fic #tgtfic #kosfic #gvfic #userwidd #userharry #usersultanah #tuserjules #usersnate #tuserjoss #userjordyn #tuserkeira #userzahra #userchai #fic: zoyalai