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generalstarkov · 6 months

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the steep and thorny way to heaven (zoyalina)

Then she caught sight of someone across the room. Time seemed to freeze for one, perfect second and Alina’s vision tunneled. Zoya Nazyalensky was dressed in a shimmering white dress, her head tilted back in laughter as she lounged on a couch with her legs thrown over Nikolai’s lap. A crown of flowers rested on the dark waves of her hair. The flashing lights caught the glitter dusted on her cheekbones and bare shoulders until she seemed to glow. Alina’s fingers twitched as she imagined the way she’d paint Zoya. Phthalo blue for her eyes. Ivory black for her hair. Caput mortuum for her painted lips. She was a siren song in the dark, a perfect rock for Alina to dash her ship against. Or, a dark academia zoyalina au.

ao3

a/n: happy halloweekend! here's some dark academia zoyalina. if you've been wondering where i am, ya girl has two shiny new degrees and a job. i still write, but mostly just what @generalstarkov tells me to. CHECK OUT HER EDIT FOR THIS FIC HERE OR ELSE also, double release for lrpd for christmas if anyone's still waiting for that 🤞🏼

from what i can scrape together from my (beautifully hand scribbled) notes: alina and mal are new transfers to Morozova University after a scandal the previous year leads to the expansion of the scholarship program for underprivileged students to distract from it. zoya is also a scholarship recipient, though she normally hides it. the school's residence halls are all named after saints, and zoya, alina, genya, and tamar are all suitemates at Magda.

Heavy bass shook the floor in time with Alina’s splitting headache as her gaze slipped over lines of Keats. It was Halloween, and like any self-respecting elite university, that meant a party that would leave half the student body hungover for a week. Alina understood that part, she just didn’t get why the party had to be right under her. She had been planning on catching up while her suitemates were out and the place was finally quiet, but the universe seemed determined to make her fail her midterms. She flipped the page with more force than necessary and reached for the mug of coffee on her desk. It was empty. Damn.

As if on cue, her phone buzzed. Alina sighed and tossed her book onto the bed. Mal had been trying to convince her to go to the party for weeks and honestly, she was surprised he still hadn’t given up. She thumbed open the device.

Malt Shake: stop being a nerd

Malt Shake: u can study tmrw

Malt Shake: david’s here too u can stand awkwardly in the corner together

Alina snorted. A real selling point. Mal’s typing bubble appeared again.

Malt Shake: don’t take what ana kuya said too personally

As usual, he’d hit the nail on the head. Alina scowled as she switched her phone off. That was easy for Mal to say when everything was almost effortless for him. She had to work twice as hard just to keep up. Any less than that, and she could kiss her scholarship goodbye. She didn’t have a trust fund or family business to fall back on like most of the student body. All she had was herself and her wits. And Mal, when he wasn’t busy flirting with the entire student body of the university. Maybe his plan was to marry rich.

But still...she snuck a look at the clock mounted on the wall. It was nearing midnight, and she’d done nothing but catch up to her English readings all day. Maybe Mal was right. A little fun wouldn’t hurt.

A few moments later, she was creeping down the staircase that led to the common room on the ground floor. The music was deafening now, and mixed with the chatter and shouts of dozens of merrymakers, it was almost too much. Only the thought of the pleasant buzz of a drink kept her going as she pushed her way past a pair of zombies making out on the landing. The smell of cheap beer and sweat hung like a cloud over the crowded floor, the lights dimmed just enough that Alina had to squint to make out faces.

As if sensing her stare, Zoya turned her head and their eyes met. A smile curled on her lips, just a touch too sharp to be kind. Alina’s heart skipped a beat. Without looking away, Zoya leaned closer to Nikolai and whispered something into his ear, causing both of them to laugh. The tips of Alina’s ears burned. Even all the way by the staircase, she knew they were talking about her.

“Alina!” Alina tore her gaze away from the picture-perfect couple and the spell was broken. Whatever invisible force had been present released its hold and the clamor of the party came back in full force. She blinked and tried to find the source of the voice.

“Hey.” An arm wrapped around her shoulders as Mal materialized from the throng of moving bodies. He was dressed as a pirate with a low cut shirt that revealed much of his muscular chest and leather pants. A roguish grin completed the ensemble. Alina raised an eyebrow. Maybe he really was trying to marry rich.

“No costume?” Mal asked as began guiding her through the crowd. They parted for him like he was Moses. Alina looked down at her comfy sweater and jeans.

“Overworked scholarship student?” she suggested.

Mal chuckled. Alina snuck another look at her friend. A faint flush was visible on his cheeks, a sure sign he’d already had a few drinks.

“Give me a second,” Mal said as he deposited her by the drinks table in the kitchen. He disappeared into the common room again, and Alina retreated to a spot against the wall and tried not to think about how sticky the floor was. A few students milled around, pouring themselves drinks and chatting. Here, the music was muffled and she could finally hear herself think again.

Mal came back a moment later with a bear-ear headband which he slipped into her hair. He stepped back to admire his handiwork. “There. Clench your fist? Alina the aardvark.”

Alina rolled her eyes. “Not your best work, Malyen.”

“Forgive me, I’m drunk.” He poured some of what Alina recognized to be expensive gin into a plastic cup and pushed it into her hands. “For you, milady.”

“Thank you, kind sir.” Alina took a sip and made a face. “Is it just me, or does it taste worse the more expensive it is?”

“You can’t taste the notes of privilege and old money?” Mal teased as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders again. Alina let herself be dragged into the thick of the party. It had been this way since they were children—Mal was the one who made friends easily, Mal was the one who got invited to parties, Mal was the one who was loved by everyone. Alina was just his constant shadow. And she was fine with that. Happy, even.

But as they approached the cluster of couches where Zoya and Nikolai were still sitting, Alina wished she could have just an ounce of Mal’s charisma. Maybe then her suitemate wouldn’t treat her like she was unworthy of the air she breathed. She downed the rest of her drink in three big gulps for some liquid courage.

Mal pulled her down on a couch beside him, his arm lingering around her shoulder even as he started chatting animatedly to David seated on his other side. The chemistry major looked like he wanted to be anywhere but here, but Genya had probably personally invited him to the party she’d planned. Alina had never seen him say no to Genya for anything. Then again, not many people said no to Genya.

“Alina! We weren’t expecting you!” Genya exclaimed as she wandered over from a group of Elizaveta girls she’d been talking to. Alina mustered up a smile as the redhead slipped into the seat beside her. The wings of Genya’s fairy costume were digging into her arms, but she found herself not minding too much. Genya was by far the most tolerable of her suitemates.

“Best to keep your expectations of her low,” Zoya interjected, her tone bored. Their suitemate had moved closer to them and now only a few precious feet separated them, a distance that could have easily been bridged by a thrown drink. Alina contemplated it as she turned to Genya.

“How many drinks does it take for her to be pleasant?”

Genya gave a rueful smile. “More than we have on hand, I’m afraid. I’m glad you’re here, though! I was beginning to consider getting Tamar to haul a keg up to our suite so you could have some fun too…”

Alina nodded periodically to let Genya know she was listening, but let her eyes wander. Zoya had already lost interest in the two of them and had drifted back towards Nikolai. His hand was on her knee and her chin was on his shoulder as the two of them talked quietly. They really were a well balanced couple, Alina realized with a sharp pang in her chest. A study in contrasts. Two oppositely charged particles that couldn’t help but stick together.

“...Alina. Earth to Alina!” Genya snapped her fingers impatiently. Alina shook herself out of her thoughts and flashed her friend an apologetic smile.

“Sorry. You were saying?”

“I was saying, if Tamar and Nadia are—”

“Nikolai!” a booming voice interrupted. Dimitri, one of Nikolai’s rowing teammates approached. He wore nothing but a large white sheet twisted around his body in a sloppy toga. His gait was unsteady, a stupider than usual grin spread across his face. Alina shrunk back, wishing she could blend into the couch like a chameleon.

“Connors,” Nikolai greeted, though his smile looked forced. “What’s up?”

“Got something I need to ask you. Away from your little gold digger girlfriend, if you don’t mind.”

A silence fell across their group. Alina’s eyes darted towards her right. Nikolai’s smile had frozen across his face, but Zoya’s eyes were furious. She stood slowly, her heels almost putting her at Dimitri’s eye level. Alina was reminded of a snake coiling itself to strike. A sick feeling sprouted in Alina’s stomach like she was watching an impending car crash but she couldn’t look away.

“What did you say about me?” Zoya asked, her tone cold.

Dimitri laughed loudly, completely oblivious to Zoya’s anger. “It’s a joke, Nazyalensky. Come on, it’s funny.”

“You wouldn’t know funny if it bit you in the ass,” Zoya spat. “Then again, if you throw around some more of daddy’s money–”

Dimitri’s face darkened with rage, but Zoya continued, a familiar sneer curling her lips.

“–I’m sure everyone will find you hilarious.”

The music fell away and all Alina could see was Zoya’s cruel and beautiful face inches away from Dimitri’s, then he was raising his arm and Alina was surging out of her seat, Mal right behind her—

“That’s enough,” Nikolai said quietly, somehow already between the two of them, one hand around Zoya’s waist, the other holding Dimitri’s arm. “You’re drunk, Dimitri.”

There was a clarity to Dimitri’s eyes that suggested that wasn’t the entire truth. But still, he laughed, slapping Nikolai on the shoulder. “I’m wasted, bro. I’m gonna head back.”

As soon as Dimitri lumbered off, hopefully back to his dorm like he’d said, Zoya whirled on Nikolai.

“What the fuck was that?” she demanded.

It was obviously meant to be a private conversation. Alina fidgeted awkwardly, still half out of her seat. She was just glad the standoff had ended somewhat peacefully, though from the way Nikolai and Zoya were whisper-arguing, maybe the peace wouldn’t last long. Beside her, Mal settled back onto the couch, a breath leaving his lips as he began muttering about what an asshole Dimitri was.

“Leave it-”

“Don’t tell me-��

“Zo, please-”

“Just leave me alone,” Zoya hissed as she shoved his arm off of her and stormed off. Alina watched her crown of flowers disappear into the crowd, then turned back to Nikolai. He looked…disappointed. But not sad, and definitely not devastated that his girlfriend has just left him. How on earth could anyone be so casual about Zoya Nazyalensky?

Before she could think it through, Alina took off after Zoya.

---

“Ophelia.”

Zoya looked up sharply. Her eyes were rimmed in red, her makeup smudged. Her features were still drawn tightly in anger and Alina had to resist the urge to take a step back. Zoya was always beautiful, but now, she was devastating, a mosaic of broken glass and jagged edges that could cut just as much as it could mesmerize.

“What?”

“Ophelia. That’s your costume, right?” Alina took a step into the room, then froze expecting some kind of land mine to go off. Zoya’s room was off-limits. Zoya was off-limits. But the other girl only nodded slightly and took another swig from the bottle she was holding. Alina took that as an invitation to move further inside. Like its occupant, the room was meticulously put together. There wasn’t much in terms of personal effects, but everything else was neatly arranged in its place as if Zoya were expecting an inspection at any minute. Alina moved an open textbook from the bed and sat gingerly on the edge. Zoya was only an arms length away now, the unattainable brought close.

“I recognized it as soon as I saw you. I did a report on it before. The Heyser painting, that is.” Alina knew she was rambling at this point, but it was the only way she knew how to fill the yawning void between them. “Did you know—”

“There’s rue for you, and here’s some for me; we may call it herb of grace o’ Sundays,” Zoya recited with a sharp laugh. She lifted the bottle in a mock toast. “Here’s to an hour of rue.”

Alina was silent as she watched Zoya drink from the bottle again. She still didn’t know why she had decided to come in—did she think she could comfort Zoya? Zoya who seemed determined to ignore her existence when she wasn’t actively trying to get her to leave the school?

Zoya coughed, then wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “Nikolai doesn’t get it, you know. That’s why he tried to stop me.”

Alina understood. More than anything, she understood. She folded her hands in her lap and nodded. Zoya took that as a sign to go on.

“He can afford to laugh off comments about himself, the rumors, no matter how bad. Because he has his money behind him. His family name. He’ll survive just about anything they can say about him. But me?” Zoya laughed again. “If I don’t respond, I’ll be a target. If I don’t respond, that makes what they say about me okay when it’s anything but.

“I fought tooth and nail to get here. I’m not going to let that bastard get away with saying stupid shit like that. And if Nikolai isn’t with me, then he’s part of the problem.”

Alina nodded slowly, the weight of Zoya’s words sinking in. “For all they make this place out to be, it’s full of idiots,” she said. “My first week here, one of my professors stopped class to ask me where I’m from because he said I ‘had an accent.’”

Zoya snorted. “You’re from Sacramento. You don’t have an accent.”

“That’s what I told him,” Alina said with a shrug. “He wouldn’t believe me.”

Zoya groaned and fell back against her pillows. “What an asshat.”

“Yeah.”

Zoya was silent, and for a moment, Alina thought she’d fallen asleep. Then she sprang up again, her blue eyes intense. And way too close. Alina’s eyes flicked down towards her lips. She wondered how it would feel to touch them, to lose herself in the feeling.

Bad Alina, she chastised herself. No drinking for you ever again.

“Girls like us....” Zoya began. She frowned and evidently decided to start over. “Girls like us have to stick together.”

Alina’s throat went dry. Zoya’s unfairly perfect face was still too close to hers, her breath ghosting across her lips. Her mind went blank.

“Uhh…” she very eloquently supplied. Zoya didn’t seem to mind though, not as she blinked and narrowed her eyes as if seeing Alina for the very first time. She placed a freezing palm against Alina’s cheek. Alina thought she was going to die.

“You’re kind of pretty this close,” Zoya muttered. “Did you know that?”

“Thanks?” Alina squeaked. What else was she supposed to say when she was pretty sure this had to be an alternate universe where her craziest fantasies came true? Her eyes flicked downwards again, and Zoya didn’t miss it this time. Her lips curled into a smirk.

“My eyes are up here, Starkov.”

“Are they—mmgh.” Alina was cut off as Zoya finally bridged those last few inches between them and crashed their lips together. Her lips were as soft as Alina had imagined, and slightly sticky from the last stubborn traces of lipstick. Her hand curled around the back of Zoya’s neck to pull her closer. Her other hand was braced on the bed as Zoya pressed against her.

Jesus christ, she was kissing Zoya Nazyalensky. And part of her never wanted to stop.

Zoya kissed like someone greedy for more. Alina barely had time to breathe, to think, as Zoya leaned in and deepened the kiss. She tasted like bitter vodka and citrus, but Alina didn’t mind as she opened her mouth and breathed her in. Her skin was fire under Alina’s fingers and she was burning, burning, all the oxygen in the room gone. Zoya’s hand slipped under her sweater.

And all too soon, Alina was cold again, blinking hazily as Zoya sprang back, a look of panic in her eyes.

“Sorry.” Alina had never heard Zoya apologize before. Zoya refused to meet her eyes. “You should go.”

I’m dying, Alina thought as she stumbled out of Zoya’s room without another word. That’s the only explanation. I’m dying and this is my brain hallucinating to bring me comfort in my last moments.

She fell face-down onto her bed and willed herself to never wake up again.

#to be fair my requests also come with a waiting period #but at least she writes for me 😤#may i add: I still edit #but most of time is whatever tiff asks me to do #clown to clown communication indeed #go read this fic bc no one understands these characters as she does 🔪#zoyalina

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