Here’s my piece based on the amazing fic by @nazyalenskyism also check out the artwork by @cosmicjiver I loved working with both of you, thanks for such a great experience :)
Her smile blooms, slowly and softly. “Well, I think you’re my dream come true, Malyen.”
it’s@grishaversebigbang time once again! This time I got to work with the lovely @oretsovand@paperplanenomad for Eva’s Malina Sleeping With Other People au ‘Wring a Faithful Heart’ which you can read here
Make sure to check out Sabrina’s awesome art here as well!
Kanej Vampire/Hunter AU. While eliminating a business rival, Kaz saves a young girl from blood slavery. Years later, a mysterious vampire hunter surfaces, the likes of which the underworld has scarcely seen. Quiet, deadly, and undefeated. No name or face is attached to the bodycount; only an anxiously whispered title: the Wraith.
another wesper artwork for @grishaversebigbang mini bang, based on a fic by @eckvan! you can also check out the artwork by my fellow gang member @cla-oh (I’ll add the links to their work as soon as I get them)
here’s my wesper art for @grishaversebigbang mini bang, based on a fic by @ace-kaz-brekker! This was my first time drawing wesper and I love how it turned out.
Please be sure to check out the amazing artwork by my fellow materialki @tiaragloryart(here).
“Milo’s first challenge on the road to Sainthood proved to be none other than himself… or more like, his nature as a goat. See, he soon came to realise that all other Saints were annoyingly human. Well, admittedly, one had something to do with bees and another could become a dragon, but they could still talk and preach their ways into becoming Saints.”
Forced to live the same day again and again, Nikolai must find a way to rid of himself of the predicament all the while trying to save their unit from the war. But the outcome of it was always the same—a death he can never seem to prevent.
Word count: 4148
Nine hundred and forty-seven.
Nikolai didn’t know why he hadn’t lost count yet. Day after day, new information was stored in his mind—the battle plan, the training and warnings, everything. But losing count never happened, and it was that many times the day of the invasion had been reset.
Nine hundred forty-seven times he woke up in that ship with his rank demoted to a Private. Nine hundred forty-seven times he saw the people he would be fighting with on the beach the next morning, but would never make it through. Nine hundred forty-seven times he died and lived the same day over and over.
And nine hundred and forty-seven times he had crossed paths with humanity’s Storm which was Zoya Nazyalensky.
Today was no different among the first ones before it; they landed on the beach, and almost a fourth of the soldiers were slaughtered the moment they touched the ground. His squad still got wiped out. The invasion still looked impossible to win through.
But both of them somehow got off the beach and found a working car.
The only difference now was that he should have just pretended to do what she’d told him to and kept his mouth shut.
Everything looked peaceful for once, at least. The fields were quiet enough as they trudged along with the remains of what was once a cornfield before the aliens came down and wreaked havoc. It was already in the afternoon, and Nikolai could already see the signs of sundown in the sky.
He could feel Zoya’s anger radiating off her as she kicked the door to the farmhouse. The Storm was many things on the battlefield—ruthless, merciless, brutal. But behind the title and the mask was still a woman who once cared for someone dear to her. Right before they were taken away.
Nikolai eyed her wistfully and he followed inside the house, weapon ready to fire at any possible sign of danger.
That wasn’t my aunt’s name, she had said through gritted teeth as if she were trying to hold off her anger towards him after he mentioned the name. Don’t ever mention that name again.
Zoya continued to take the lead, venturing deeper into the house without much care if she was making too much noise. “There’s nothing here,” she said, only casting him a glance before she was turning away again. “Keep going.”
“Zo—” Nikolai stopped. Should he apologize? But he knew she would just wave it off, and there wasn’t much left for him to say.
Eventually they reached the garage. It wasn’t much different from the house—quiet and abandoned, with little to no supplies left. Nikolai knew better than to assume there was nothing else.
He turned away from the other exit, hoping that Zoya would follow him instead of going out to the backyard. But she had already opened the door and stepped outside.
It would have passed on as another dead end of the house if it weren’t for the shape of a small helicopter covered by a tarp in the middle of the backyard. Nikolai eyed the chopper warily. He was sure that it would make much noise once they got it started—if they got it started. The saints only knew where the keys to that thing were.
Zoya pulled the cover off the chopper. “We have to find the keys,” she said, startling him out of his thoughts. She eyed the helicopter with a certain look of fascination and relief.
“Let’s just siphon the gas,” said Nikolai. Please, listen for once.
“Why drive when you can fly?”
“In that thing?”
The Storm looked displeased. “Let me guess. You’re afraid of heights.”
“I’m afraid of crashing,” said Nikolai, making it sound convincing. Saints, he had lived the day almost a thousand times and most of them were spent jumping out of the forsaken plane that was going to drop them off the beach. He was definitely running out of excuses. “I’m not at all ashamed to admit it.”
“You’ll be fine, Lantsov. You’ll learn,” Zoya said as she approached the ropes that got tangled around the rotor. She started to pull at them, only to stop with a stifled groan when she moved abruptly. Her movements became strained and she muttered, “Shit.”
Nikolai furrowed his eyebrows. “What is it?”
“It’s nothing. I’m fine.” Zoya continued her ministrations despite her labored movements. She cast him a furtive glance and quickly looked away when he started approaching her. She was turning her right shoulder away from him. “I’m fine, Lantsov.”
Leave it to one of the greatest soldiers ever lived to pretend she’s alright, and they’d be arguing all day. “Zoya,” he said, mustering up all the authority in his tone. She was a lot of things, and one of them was holding superiority over another. He figured that it was time their positions were reversed. “Let me see.”
Zoya looked reluctant, a guarded expression in her eyes evident. Nikolai stared right back and patiently waited. He wasn’t going to cower back to her gaze, not when her injury was taking a toll on her. “Fine,” she said curtly.
She zipped down her jacket as he walked towards her. Slowly, he reached up a hand to push the collar of her jacket and uncover her bad shoulder, visibly wincing when he saw the extent of the wound.
Three deep lines ran all the way from her nape to her shoulder, like it had been raked by a pitchfork. The jacket was black, so the bloodstain wouldn’t be visible from the first look. Nikolai didn’t know how much she lost just by looking at her drenched shirt.
He cast her an unamused look. “Tell me again you’re fine.”
Zoya scowled, trying to draw away his hand. “Stop being cranky, Private,” she said. “You forget your place.”
“And you forget you’re still human,” Nikolai fired back, and thankfully, this made her stop. For once, the fire in her blue eyes dissipated, replaced by the look of exhaustion and defeat. He may never know what it was like to fight in wars and survive them only to fight more battles ahead. But reliving the same day over and over again might have given him a glimpse of what she had been through in the past years. “Why don’t we go back to the farmhouse in the meantime so we can fix this atrocity of a shoulder?”
He could still see the conflict in her eyes, the want to say ‘no’ evident in her expression. But after a few more moments, she finally let out an exasperated breath, pointing a finger at him. “If you get more annoying than this, Lantsov, I swear, I will shoot you.” She batted his hand away, shrugging off her jacket as she stomped back to the house.
Perhaps he should just let her shoot him, reset the day and get on with it all over again. But they already got this far inland, and going back to the beginning of the day would take another toll on his wavering sanity.
Nikolai figured that he would never find a way out of this if he continued delaying the day he was in now.
He would just have to brave through it today.
***
Zoya’s wound was a lot worse up close, and he didn’t know how she’s still alive with all the blood she had already lost. It had taken them more than an hour to scavenge through the farmhouse and get as many supplies as they could to fix her shoulder before they looked around for the keys of the chopper.
A hiss suddenly came out from her mouth, and Nikolai had to wince when she glared at him over her uninjured shoulder. “Take it easy, yeah?” said Zoya with a strained tone. “It’s like you’re still manhandling a mimic with your bare hands.”
“You’re stronger than a mimic, Nazyalensky,” he said, “you can handle a bit of a sting.”
“The sting feels like getting impaled by one of their arms.”
Nikolai laughed lightly. There were times that he forgot that she used to go through the same predicament. “That’s a nice way to say it,” he said as he finished putting the gauze on her wound. Her skin was warm against his touch, and he tried not to let his fingers linger too much. “The heli’s full of fuel. I found a hose down the basement.”
There was a short silence, and then Zoya sighed. “We’re flying, Lantsov.”
He met Zoya nearly a thousand times now and the one thing that was consistent all throughout was her stubbornness. “Alright, then. Let’s say we find the keys,” he said, standing up from the chair behind hers, “it’s going to be dark out soon. I suggest we stay here first until the morning.”
Zoya huffed. “And curl up by the fire and open a bottle of wine?”
“I mean, that doesn’t sound so bad.” Nikolai shrugged, kneeling down to get the first aid kit that could still be used later. If they could still use it later. “But I didn’t find wine, only coffee.”
“You amuse me, Lantsov.”
“I do what I can, Sergeant.”
Another silence stretched between them. It was a bit surreal, the quiet surroundings for once. The sound of gunshots and explosions every single day had already been stuck in his mind that it would feel like it was just some regular day at work.
It was the same day over and over, and yet it felt like years had already passed.
There was suddenly a click, snapping Nikolai out of his thoughts, and he looked up just in time to see Zoya pulling a gun behind her.
“I think we should just reset—”
“Whoa, easy—” His hand shot out to hold her wrist in a blink, the panic in his mind taking over and making him forget that the Storm didn’t like any means of physical contact. But if she wanted to bring up that reminder, she didn’t bother to. “Haven’t we gone far enough to reset now?”
“Nikolai—” She stopped, a pained expression flashing on her face when she moved abruptly to pull her wrist away. There was a tight crease between her eyebrows and he wanted nothing else but to draw it away. She let out a ragged breath. “It’s a dead end, and it’s all the same to you. I’m exhausted and in pain. I’d rather just start fresh.”
Nikolai loosened his hold on her wrist, but didn’t let go completely. Zoya made no move to pull away again. “Tell you what, take a few minutes.” He gestured a hand to the table beside her where the small thermos of coffee he found by the kitchen sat. “Coffee’s ready.”
Zoya looked like she wanted to shoot him, and he had to send a silent prayer to whoever was still in charge if she could listen to him for once. Thankfully, she did, tucking the gun back to her belt, and she gave him a glare. Nikolai let out a quiet breath of relief, anyways.
“I’ll look around for the keys. That’s productive,” he said.
“Ten minutes, Lantsov,” she said as he stood up to pour her a mug of coffee. He furrowed his eyebrows at her. “Ten minutes, and then I’m killing you.”
I’m sure you will if you knew. “Alright, fine,” he said, shrugging.
“I still can’t believe you found coffee.”
Nikolai smiled. “There are some things I’m good at besides talking,” he said, pouring the coffee into one of the mugs.
Zoya raised an eyebrow. “For example?”
“Brewing coffee.” He handed the mug to her. “And reliving the same day over and over without losing my sanity.”
Her hands paused from taking the coffee for a moment, a worried expression appearing on her face. But it was gone in a blink. She offered him a grateful smile. “Thank you.”
Something clicked in his mind. “Oh, wait. Sugar, right?” he said even before she could take a sip from her mug.
“Yeah.” There was a wary look in her eyes as he opened a packet of sugar and mixed it with her coffee. With another small smile, she said, “Thank you.”
“Wait, hold on. Three. You like three,” said Nikolai even before he could think of it, and it took him a few seconds to realize his stupidity.
He refused to meet her eyes, all too aware of her gaze on him that’s becoming heavier as the seconds passed, and whatever hope he had of her not catching up vanished into thin air. Of course, Zoya Nazyalensky would always know.
When he decided to look back up at her, there was something dark lurking behind her eyes that was a lot worse than anger—the look of betrayal.
Nikolai sighed defeatedly, slowly standing up. He averted his eyes and turned his attention elsewhere. Anywhere but her. “There’s a shirt over there in the drawer. It should be your size.”
He started to walk towards it, but her voice stopped him. “How many times have we been here?”
Sixty-eight. You mentioned Genya to me on the thirty-fifth. Told me about your aunt on the forty-eighth. He still refused to speak. Because if he did, he might say something that he would regret. It wasn’t as if Zoya would remember it later, when the day resets, and yet he was still afraid—afraid of being honest.
Mustering up his usual confidence, Nikolai turned to face her. She put the mug roughly down the table. He tried not to flinch. He could feel her patience wearing thin, but she still managed to remain calm.
“How many times?” she asked again. Then after a moment, she added, “Where are the keys?”
“I don’t—”
The barrel of the gun was already pointing at him as soon as he could blink. “Where are the damned keys, Lantsov?” she asked, her voice rising to the commanding tone she always used at him during his training.
Perhaps he should just let her shoot him, and the day would be reset. He could go through it all over again. He wouldn’t have to make the same mistake he did today.
But one look at her, Nikolai knew he couldn’t lie. At least not to her.
He pulled out the keys from his pocket, and Zoya immediately snatched it from his hand. Anger sparked in her eyes as she pointed a finger at him.
“You can fly it, can’t you?”
“No—” He sighed exasperatedly at the thought of lying again. There was just no use. “I mean, yes. I can take off, but I’m still working on my landing—”
This only seemed to ignite her anger more and suddenly she was getting her jacket from the chair and moving swiftly as if she wasn’t injured. “Then what the hell are we still doing here?” she reprimanded.
“Zoya—”
Zoya stomped towards the doors leading to the backyard. “We’re wasting time—”
“If you start that engine, you die,” Nikolai called out, making her stop in her tracks. She turned to face him with a conflicted expression, and it only made it harder for him to control the words threatening to tumble out of his mouth. He drew in a shaky breath. “This is as far as you go,” he added quietly. It was painful to say it to her, but she had to know. There was still a chance that she would listen to him. “No matter what I do.”
His mind took the liberty to remember the days they had reached this far, and the memories flashed before his eyes.
Zoya getting overwhelmed by the monsters that were lingering not too far from the yard.
Zoya staying back to hold the horde off so he could escape.
Zoya pushing him out of the way and taking the blast of the helicopter by herself.
Zoya making it through the fight but was already too wounded to survive the trip.
Nikolai had purposefully crashed the heli or just let the mimics flood him just so he could reset it and save her. But all those times, all those resets, ended up in the same result: Zoya never got out from here. And that was the cruel reality.
She’s dead, her angry voice echoed in his head. And I have to watch her die three hundred times, and I remember every detail. I remember everything, Nikolai. So I don’t need to talk about it.
Now that he was in her place, he finally understood how she felt to lose someone dear.
His eyes stung. “This is as far as you ever make it.”
A look of hurt flashed on her face, the truth somehow creating a crack to her invulnerable mask. And yet the determination of a soldier prevailed, and her jaw was set when she shook her head. “Then so be it.”
Zoya pushed the doors open and went out.
“Zoya!” He called out as he followed her to the heli. “Listen—”
“Get your weapon and get in the helicopter, Lantsov.” She started removing the ropes that were holding the rotors in place. “If I were you I would stop wasting time.”
“There’s a mimic buried twenty yards away,” Nikolai said, “and there’s more in the field back there. Only one of us ever makes it.”
Zoya continued her task, refusing to acknowledge the things he was saying. But he pressed on.
“The only thing we haven’t tried is a version where you walk away,” he said, and though he knew it would be impossible for her to do it no matter how many times the day reset, he still said it. He was getting more desperate as the seconds ticked by. “Just go back to the farmhouse. There’s a cellar that has all the supplies you need. Wait until I get back.”
“Not happening, Lantsov.” Zoya removed the last of the ropes. “Get in.”
“Zoya, please—”
She turned around to face him, her expression nothing but mad. “I’m a soldier,” Zoya growled. She jabbed a finger to his chest. “I volunteered. I’m not walking away.”
Nikolai was breathing hard now. He had already exhausted every excuse he had, and it was just him, a desperate person just wanting her to live. “You die here.” And I’ve seen it so many times. “Right here. And I—” His voice broke. “I can’t save you.”
Zoya stared back at him, a flash of sadness flickering in her eyes. She almost looked like she wanted to give in, but if there was something that Nikolai admired her for, it was her determination. “Maybe I’m just not meant to be saved.”
Her words felt like knives driven to his heart, and it took all his will not to let himself cry. Sentiments weren’t ideal in the current situation they were in, but he still had them anyway. “Zoya, if I go and kill their energy source. You’re dead.” He shook his head. He didn’t even want to imagine a world without her. “Forever.”
“There’s no time.” She turned away and started to walk towards the chopper.
Nikolai stepped forward and held her arm before she could put the keys to the ignition. “Zoya—”
She wrenched away from him and turned, her eyes burning with fury. “Why does it matter what happens to me?”
This made him stop. If you knew what was good for you, you wouldn’t want to get to know me either, she had told him just earlier. It’s the only way you make it through this thing.
He shouldn’t have let himself care. He shouldn’t have made himself attached to her. He should have been stronger. He should have listened to her.
But how can he when they’ve been through so much even though he was the only one who remembered?
“I wish I didn’t know you,” Nikolai said quietly, and the fury in Zoya’s eyes slowly dissipated. He wished he could just forget her, and yet he couldn’t. “But I do.”
Zoya stepped back, shaking her head. The guarded look in her eyes was back. She shook her head, and in a hiss she said, “Get in.”
He bolted back to the farmhouse just as she started the engine. Instantly, the mimic he knew that was lurking around burst out from the ground, making a beeline to the chopper. Nikolai rolled out of the way and continued running to the garage.
There was a loud crash, and then it was followed by the sound of the chopper’s failing engine as it fought to stay in the air with the mimic weighing it down.
Nikolai reached the table where they had put their weapons before the heli rammed through the walls of the garage. He fired his gun at the mimic, trying his best not to hit the chopper, but it was already falling to the ground. The chopper crashed, along with the mimic, and the impact was enough to send the abandoned car skidding outside and dragging him along with it.
Pain shot throughout his body as he crashed to the nearby shed, but his mind had tunneled to one thought to even mind the hurt.
Zoya.
He grabbed an axe that had clattered to the floor, limping back to the garage. The mimic was still thrashing, and he angrily put it out of its misery by driving down the axe in a deadly arc. It finally stopped moving after several hits. The urge to butcher it to pieces was strong, but it didn’t matter.
Throwing the axe to the side, Nikolai made his way to the chopper, or what was left of it. Every step was agonizing as the adrenaline started to wear out, and it was all just pain.
Zoya was lying on her back on the rubble, a pool of her blood starting to grow bigger around her. His legs gave away and he fell down on his knees beside her. Her side had been impaled by a shrapnel from the chopper, and by the looks of it, there was no way she would make it.
His vision blurred. He knew he shouldn’t cry, or weep, as this had already happened many times than he could count. But he still let the tears fall. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice coming out in a sob.
A tired smile twitched on her lips and she shook her head. It only made his tears fall continuously. She held up her trembling hand, and Nikolai held on it tightly, believing if he did it hard enough, he could bring life back to her, stop the bleeding. To save her from this forsaken war.
But it’s almost as close to impossible.
“My aunt’s name,” Zoya said, forcing her voice to become as steady as possible, “was Liliyana.” She drew in her final breath, and then she was gone.
Nikolai stared at her blank eyes, the blue eyes that always held fire and fury were now empty.
There was the sound of the ground rumbling. The horde of nearby mimics was approaching the garage. He let them come, knowing that it was no use fighting. There wasn’t anything left.
As the thuds of the aliens’ steps sounded nearer and nearer, he was left wondering how many more times he would have to see the light in Zoya’s eyes flicker to nothing before he lost her completely.
The first mimic arrived only after a moment.
And then there was nothing.
***
His eyes shot open.
“On your feet, idiot!”
Nikolai was back on the ship. The day was reset again.
Nine hundred forty-eight.
The day went by as it always had been, the Sergeant’s preaching, meeting his squad, going to physical training. It was all the same until he stepped to the other side of the ship, where he approached Zoya every single day after dying the first few times at the beach.
She gave him a glare as she stood up from her push-up position, seemingly angry for being disturbed with her routine.
“Yes?” Her sharp voice echoed in the arena. “Who said you could talk to me?”
His gaze lingered at her for a moment too longer. This is as far as you go. No matter what I do, his own words echoed in his head. This is as far as you ever make it.
“Do I have something on my face, soldier?”
The only thing we haven’t tried is a version where you walk away.
Nikolai blinked. Perhaps there was still something they hadn’t tried yet. Or at least he hadn’t tried yet.
He shook his head. “I’m sorry to disturb you, Sergeant.”
With a final glance at her, he turned and left.
Nine hundred and forty-eight times he died and lived the same day. Nine hundred and forty-eight times he met humanity’s Storm that was Zoya Nazyalensky.
But this time, Nikolai walked away and didn’t look back.
You should apologize to Wylan. You scared the shit out of him just now, and he was just asking if you were okay.”
“My dearest Inej,” Kaz began drily, “The dishboy should know by now that I am not concerned with whether or not I have hurt his feelings.”
“I wouldn’t worry about it!” Nina chirped, appearing suddenly in the doorway. “Jesper is giving him day-old donuts, so he should be fine.”
Stop whatever you are doing and check out @buckyisdisabled ‘s fic on ao3 [here] it’s part of the @grishaversebigbang:D(I really have become a sucker for coffe-shop AU’s due to this fic)
equally important to have a look at is @bluedelladraw‘s artwork [linkto be added] the details and the background just blow me away <3
“If you start that engine, you die,” Nikolai called out, making her stop in her tracks. She turned to face him with a conflicted expression, and it only made it harder for him to control the words threatening to tumble out of his mouth. He drew in a shaky breath. “This is as far as you go,” he added quietly. It was painful to say it to her, but she had to know. There was still a chance that she would listen to him. “No matter what I do.”
