Kanej Rant Bc I Felt Likt It And What Else Do I Have To Do

kanej rant bc i felt likt it and what else do i have to do

every touch would ahve meaning. every. single. touch. even when people think it doesnt, like (jsut casual-gang-people thing) they both feel it reverbrating inside their souls, how lucky they are to have this.

inej would slowly start visiting more and more and eventually (like whar 35-ish) she'll jsut stay. wylan and jesper figure that smth musthave happened, but its not until she comes to stay at their mansion do they actually realise the ring. the. ring. jesper is secretly mad about not best-manning and stuff, but inej comments that they havent had a proper ceremony yet. and one day kaz asks jesper njfekojmerflz and . kaz thinks abput getting married in a church but she smiles and tells him that she could never have a man of so little faith say vows in a holy place. so its on a ship. nina visits. kaz- during his vows- jsut says 'its always been you, 'nej.' and ofc he wouldnt sdo proper vows theyve already told each otehr how much they loved eachoth, etc. etc. and they kiss shyly. first public kiss EVER. though they can kiss in private, its been a lot of time- but still yk. wow this is incoherent

nikolai x angst???????

crack fic

warning: mild sexual content, crack crack crack. THIS IS PURE CRACK!!!

Nikolai drew Zoya into his arms slowly, smiling as he kissed her. "You must be excited- this is the second-last stop."

"Oh- is it? I hadn't noticed." she answered. Nikolai laughed, knowing that not to be true. She had been grumbling and whining and complaining every day of the trip. It had been some of the best weeks of his life. The thought that he would get to live like this for the rest of life swelled his chest- and also perhaps the fact that Zoya brought her hands to his shirt- determined to unbutton the impossible buttons.

"My love," he said gently, "we have to leave soon." Nikolai kissed her lips chastely. She continued making quick work of his buttons, and a familiar shiver of desire struck him. Nikolai took her hands. "Zoya; you are making me be the voice of reason and I hate it. We have your appearance soon.''

Zoya sighed, wringing her hands free and taking the liberty of re-buttoning his shirt. "Yes. We do. See you later, Lantsov?"

"You know it, Nazyalensky." Nikolai turned and stepped out of the room, leaving Zoya with the precious few minutes she had before she had to appear in front of the public at Caryeva.

~

Nikolai grinned as he waded through the crowd, proud to do this for Zoya today instead of himself. He had known the people would have to look at her, and he had been excited for another one of these- the publicity tours, as Zoya called them.The people looked at him, yes, but Zoya was the true object of their worship. He honestly felt an enormous weight lift off his shoulders as he watched the subjects scream for their Sankta, even four hours after her only appearance. Nikolai would have felt guilty, but he knew that the burden would not weigh nearly as much on Zoya. She could not care less what people thought of her.

He felt a hand on his shoulder, and he turned around- only to see a ghost. It was Dominik. He told himself he was being ridiculous, lots of people looked similar, after all, he reasoned. But no, it was Dominik. The scar above his brow where the cook's hot ladle had flicked, the eyes- those eyes. "Do I know you?" he summoned the energy and courage for words.

"Nikolai the Spider Squealer- look where you are now." the man who could not be Dominik but inexplicably was grinned and spoke.

"H- how?" he managed to get out. The crowd of people pressed against him.

"Here- let's go into the corner. You need to sit down, friend." as Dominik's ghost steered him to a corner outside of an ally. Friend. That word... had they not been each other's everything back then? "Do you need water?" Dominik asked.

"I seem to be in greater need of answers." Nikolai replied. Dominik smiled again, and Nikolai already knew that it could not be a ghost, because no ghost would ever smile like Dominik had.

"Well- I stopped breathing. You were there for that part. I was left in that field of bodies." A distinct tone of bitterness took over his voice. "But I was found by a group of scavengers. I do not know how I survived woth my wounds, but I did. On the move, eating scraps, I survived. The scavengers at last brought me to Keramzin. At the hospital there, they gave me something, and I fainted. Went into a coma for five years. Woke up right before the war ended. I was healed, and so I found the love of my life, and we shifted here." Nikolai processed that for five minutes.

"What do you do?" he asked, at last.

Dominik beamed. "My handsome husband supports us both, he's a trader."

Nikolai was finding it difficult to breathe. "Good to see you're alive, man." was what he got out before stumbling away.

~

Nikolai shut the door to their chambers. Zoya looked up from her place on the bed, scowling. "Where were you? You know, you cannot do this to me. First you crown me against my wish, make me do this tour, and then disappear? Ravka does not need an undiplomatic queen, Nikolai!"

"No- that is the last thing Ravka needs. What it needs is you, a person who they can have the purest belief in." he responded automatically, but with a hollowness inside him. Zoya immediately sat up.

"Nikolai? What's wrong? Did something happen?" she asked, walking to him.

"Zoya- you know Dominik's plant in the garden?" she nodded impatiently. "I think we can remove that now." Zoya drew her brows together, confused.

"Nikolai; you did not tell me who Dominik was at that time, and I do not press, but you have to tell me if something is wrong, Kolya." she called him the nickname she had only used once before, the one reserved for special occasions. What a devious trick- she knew it would cause him to melt.

"He was my-" Zoya interrupted him, pushing him back on the bed.

"What? Get comfortable! If I know anything, I know this is going to be a long story." she said.

He rested against the headboard, took a deep breath, and began. "He was my only friend, really. When I was younger, I was a troublesome, naughty child- I know, unimaginable." he said as Zoya's brows rose.

"I was excited one morning- I had procured a mouse to set into my Tutor's bag. Imagine my surprise when I found there had been another desk and chair all set up- with a frightened boy sitting there. He wouldn't talk very much, just called me 'moi tsarevich'. When I released the mouse, my tutor screamed and I laughed. But then- he whipped Dominik. He was to act as a whipping boy for me- for who would dare raise a hand against the prince?

After that I did not cause trouble. I promised him I would do better. But somehow- in that silent corpse of a palace; we became friends. As we got older, we started sneaking out of the palace, to his house. We roughhoused and shouted and ran through fields. When I was fifteen, we were lying in the fields together and I looked at him- and I kissed him. He kissed me back. But the very next day, when I was sneaking back, Vasily caught me. I had gotten careless, you see. I... became what I am. I charmed my mother and her court and flattered my father and wrote to gunsmiths and officers and ministers and generals.

"I got Dominik's brother reassigned to a place where the fighting was light. I joined the infantry right along with him. He... was my everything."

"And then he died. But I saw him today. Turns out he survived, went into a coma, found a rich handsome trader husband."

Zoya crawled into his arms, melting into him. He held onto her like she was his only anchor and he a pathetic drowning ship, and sobbed. "He did not once think he should tell me? Some mornings, his words, he was the only reason I could even get up. He just... forgot?"

"Nikolai. Nikolai- Kolya, listen to me. What else can you do?"

"If only- I'd checked his pulse, I wouldn't be here right now, Zoya do you understand? There was another life I could have lived."

"That is what you could have done. There is no use crying over spilt milk, Kolya. Moreover, do you regret this? Do you regret... me?"

He looked in his heart's eyes and said, "No. Of course not. You are right, of course. You always are." and attempted a smile.

Zoya's eyes narrowed. "Normally I would savour those words, but why does it feel like you're up to something? Like your mind isn't at rest?"

That made Nikolai laugh; a small laugh yes, but a laugh. "When is it ever?" he asked.

yass bestie

please reblog this if you’re a zoyalai shipper

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fic for @grishaversebigbang's mini bang word count: 2k with the lovely artwork from @jellythefishhh here and @fayrism here fic summary: zoya has to go to an event in ketterdam, but she can't very well go alone, can she? accompanying her is her least favorite pirate (privateer). Kisses Over Crowns

“Zoya? Are you nearly ready? We’re comparatively later than usual.” Nikolai’s voice drifted in through the door.

Zoya assessed herself. The gown stuck to her body, displaying it. The neckline dipped to her cleavage briefly, hinting, taunting. It was blue, flashy and shiny material with gold and gray accents. It clung to her hips especially. It would do. The Kerch would love it. She barely wore any jewelry, just small diamond studs, a gold chain with the Ravkan symbol pendant and of course, the new Ravkan crown, silver and light, shaped like an approaching dragon. 

She sensed Nikolai as he entered the room. She turned around and raised an eyebrow impatiently. “Well? What are we waiting for now?”

He snapped his gaze to her eyes, not lingering where it should never have been in the first place. "I'm reconsidering going to the event at all.” He stated, in a strangled voice. 

“You’re being ridiculous, Sturmhond.”

“I'm always ridiculous. There are just sometimes you like it more than others." He grinned.

“Let’s go,” She strode forward and took his hand, leading him out of the room. He allowed himself to be led. 

Although the function celebrating the anniversary of the Council was in their wing, Zoya could not help but feel offended at the lack of acknowledgement whatsoever. They were not given directions or guidance, and their entrance into the hall was ignored. She told herself she was thinking too much. 

"What are we even supposed to do?" she asked Nikolai suspiciously under her breath, awkwardly coming to a stop in the middle of the hall. Sturmhond, she corrected herself. The Kerch were furious enough at Nikolai as it was, and she didn't like making a public appearance with a privateer (pirate), but it was the best option they had after receiving the deliberately ill-timed invitation to Ketterdam. 

"Talk, sit. Listen to very long, boring and possibly fatal speeches. Pretend to eat. Dance, perhaps.  And go back to our rooms."

Zoya batted his words away and focused on her surroundings. 

The hall's walls were grey marble, made from helpless indentures' hands, and the dome was grand and high. But it was a closed venue and there was no way for Brekker and his barrel rats to break into this place. Or at least she thought so. She wouldn't put anything past that rat. The place was hung with white banners saying things like "The spirit of profit and trade lives on!" or "Ghezen continues to bless us with prosperity!". 

He hummed to gain her attention. She looked at him questioningly, desperate to limit contact between them. "What is it, my love?" he asked. 

"I don't like making a public appearance with a pirate. Privateer.", she automatically self-corrected, much to his amusement. "And don't call me that." 

At that, he tilted his head, resumed his most mournful, confused expression, which rather looked like a sad puppy. She couldn't help but smile a little at that absolutely ridiculous face. His face broke into a grin which was so much more Nikolai than Sturmhond. She had to look away so she wouldn't kiss him. 

"Ah, well met, Your Highness, well met." a smooth voice distracted her. As she attempted to maintain small talk with the Zemeni ambassador, Sturmhond larked away, being no help at all. She suspected he was enjoying the opportunity to be carefree in front of people he usually scraped to, a little too much. 

When the Zemeni ambassador had had enough, Sturmhond steered her around the room, making it look like she was the one doing the steering. "There's that pair of awful, stuck-up Fjerdans. Saints, I think they're approaching. Quick, sweep me away to the dinner table." 

They tried to speed walk to the massive dinner table in the center of the room without attracting any unwanted attention. Sturmhond stopped a foot away from the nearest chair. "What is it now, privateer?" she impatiently snapped. Then she saw the problem for herself. There was only one seat for the Ravkan delegation. And it was labeled Privateer Sturmhond. 

"Please sit, Your Highness. I'll get them to correct their mistake immediately." he reassured her. Zoya was sure that this was very intentional, but she took her seat and waved him away nonetheless. 

The Fjerdan delegation they had tried so hard to avoid swept into their seats next to her frostily. Internally already asleep, she engaged them in small talk, doing her best to avoid tense topics. Leave the important issues for after the meals and the drinking, Nikolai had told her. She hardly thought the Fjerdans would indulge in alcohol, but she managed to steer them away from intense matters.

"General Nazyakensky! Ah, I suppose it's Queen now." came Hiram Schenck bustling into her. 

She only stared at him unflinchingly. "Those are the kind of errors which make for war offenses. It's been a year of you forgetting my title? Kindly correct this seating arrangement." 

"Of course, of course. We just kept in mind that no Ravkan monarch has ever visited Ketterdam before. Except His Previous Highness Nikolai when he was young, of course." he replied, not taking her threat of war seriously. But he should. Fjerda and Ravka had made their peace, and Ravka and Shu Han were well on their way to peace as well. Novyi Zem was already their ally. That made Ravka out to be quite the strong nation, what with the trade reforms. 

And there came Sturmhond. "Ah, has the seating arrangement been revised yet?" asking as if that weren't the very reason he had gone away. 

"Of course, Privateer Sturmhond. Right away." Schenck bowed and went away. She watched the astonishing exchange with wide eyes. 

"Is he scared of you?" she whispered conspiratorially. He grinned down at her from the back of her seat, but she refused to twist around. She settled for a few glances with her craning her neck. 

"I made sure he heard a lot of gruesome stories about Privateer Sturmhond." he murmured back. 

"Also, does he think that's a title or something?" 

He shrugged. "Or something." 

They were interrupted by a servant hastily dragging a chair towards them. “Thank you,” Sturmhond said. He sank down in his chair, groaning and working out the kinks in his neck. Zoya marveled at the sight. Nikolai could never have done something like that. He would have to sit, straight-backed, stone-faced. She supposed there was some freedom in having a privateer alter-ego. 

“Ahem! Now that we are seated, all of us,” Jellen Radmakker spoke up, standing at the head of the table, “I would like to propose a toast.” 

Sturmhond leaned closer to her and commented, ‘This is probably the best time to take a nap. I’ll wake you up when it ends.” 

Usually she would have ignored him, but as Councilman Radmakker started his speech, she half felt inclined to take him up on his offer. After an eternity, during which she could neither nap, nor talk to Nikolai, Radmakker deemed it the appropriate time to start eating. 

The food was brought in on silver plates, and served to everyone but her. Sturmhond tensed his jaw and pushed his plate toward her. “Eat. I’ll sort this out.” 

She raised her eyebrows. “Like you sorted it out the last time?” Scoffing, she pushed the plate back to him. “Sit, Sturmhond. The food’s probably poisoned anyway.”

Shrugging, he sat down. Then he waved a server over. “Ah, my good mate. Y’know who I am, righ’? Can I have another plate? Mighty good food, m’lad, mighty good food.” The server simply nodded and hurried away. 

Zoya looked at him for a long time, picked a stick of sugar up and stuck it in her mouth. “What are you, Sturmhond?” 

Instead of grinning, or offering any other snarky reply, he leaned closer and closer to her, until she felt his breath on her cheek. “Yours.” 

And that was the moment the server chose to bring another plate to Sturmhond. 

~

Everyone was done eating, and people were milling about, sweet-talking each other or just finding the way to their rooms. Nikolai would have seen this as an excellent opportunity, but Nikolai was not there. Sturmhond gently prodded her once, if she was feeling up for it. Zoya was not. 

They decided to stand there aimlessly, just to see if anyone would make overtures. A minute later, Zoya could not bear it and pulled Nikolai away, to their rooms. She bumped into something hard and …bony. 

“Watch where you’re going, dragon wench.” came the harsh scrape of, unmistakably, Brekker’s voice. She grated her jaw and slowly took a dignified step back. 

He was wearing a black suit, and an oversized black trench coat. His haircut was astoundingly bad. His skin was paler than ever and he clutched his cane in his right hand. His dead shark eyes were irritated and a little wet. 

“Mr. Brekker! How surprising to see you here!” Sturmhond calmly stabilized her and snaked an arm across her back. 

“Isn’t it? I must say, it is not at all pleasing to gaze upon your face. It’s extraordinarily ugly.” he replied drily.

“I would prefer it to have you eradicated from the earth, but who knows? That might just be the thing that brings Ravka and the Council close.” Zoya snapped. 

“A very noble endeavor, I’m sure, Your Highness, but you’ll find that the Merchant Council is currently inebriated and absolutely hates you.” 

“Indubitably, you're right, Mr. Brekker. How has Captain Ghafa been faring?” he asked with a twinkle in his eye. 

“The Wraith is doing just fine. And it better continue that.” 

“Ah, Mr. Brekker, your thinly-veiled threats are always delightful. A true pleasure partaking in conversation with your esteemed self.” 

“I doubt Her Majesty feels that way.” 

“What social intuition you have,” Zoya said in an acerbic voice. She really hated him. Saints knew why they were bothering to talk to him anyway. You know what, she would remedy that. “As truly enjoyable as your company has been, we would take your leave now.” And she whisked Nikolai away. 

She struggled to find their rooms in the sparsely-lit corridors. “What simulating conversation we just ha-,”

“Oh, shut up, Nikolai.” she lashed out, stopping and pushing him up against a wall. Zoya looked into his eyes, Sturmhond’s eyes, an odd greenish color, and only saw Nikolai’s. 

“My Queen?” he mumbled nervously. 

She shut him up with a kiss. Softly pressing her lips to his, she parted his mouth with her tongue, and her reward was hearing him moan spectacularly. Saints, she was done. Zoya pulled away. 

Sturmhond was breathing hard, looking surprised and … was that a blush she saw on his cheeks? “Nikolai…”, she teased, “Are you blushing?”

“Can we please go to our rooms, Your Highness? I’m positive they were just here.” he almost pleaded. She let the poor man drag her to their rooms. 

~

She blinked blearily. Looking around, she tried to remember where she was. Stone walls, white bed. And a solid warmth next to her. She turned around and looked at Nikolai. His red hair, his pointy chin. Nikolai, yet not. She sighed. Zoya could’ve stayed there forever, regardless of the fact that this was Ketterdam.

Slowly, she sat up, because duty called. She had slept in her clothes and jewelry. She took her diamond studs off and kept them in a pouch. Off came the pendant. She carefully reached for her crown, but her fingers just touched… empty air. Space. Nothing. Oh, she swore to all the Saints and their ugly mothers- jumping from the bed, she looked at herself in the mirror. No crown on her head. Her movements woke Nikolai, and he gazed at her sleepily. “My love?” 

“That little cockroach Brekker. He stole my crown. I’ll… Wait. Was it on my head last you saw me?” she fumed. 

“You mean in bed? Yes.” 

So… how did he? “Did we lock the room?” she asked, fear creeping into her voice. If Brekker had seen them… entangled, he could leak that for millions of kruge. 

“I… I don’t think so. Check, my love.” Urgency filtered through his words as well.