My favorite thing about zoyalai is the fact that both of them are pretty selfish.

Both of them would admit it.

Both of them would say it with pride.

But they also work against it.

All the time. They don’t want to sacrifice the good of one for the good of the many. They want to save everyone. They want to be the ones make that sacrifice.

Because both of them believe that they are cold and calculating enough to handle the fall.

But they’re not.

They hide behind their arrogance and charm, and pretend like they don’t see themselves each other. And know they’d rather die than see the other hurt but never ever admit to how much they like each other.

They’re idiots. They’re in love. But they’re also idiots.

i think i like you (maybe more than i should)

a/n: “I Think I Like You” by the Band CAMINO has literally been on repeat for a while, and I just had to write a short and sweet fluff filled Zoyalai fic for it.

AO3

Summary: Zoya has a realization

Zoya felt her heart start to sink to the bottom of her stomach.

It was like a rock that sliced through the calm of an unbothered lake.

The growing realization of something that should have never parted through the clouds of her own oblivion was now shining a light on the complete obvious.

And at the center of it all had everything to do with the man who was so casually sitting in her living room. Zoya had never been the kind of person who let other people into her personal space, but there he was.

After three years of being his friend, it was like Zoya had just looked up and found threads of him woven tightly into the fabric of her life.

His coffee in her pantry– for the days he couldn’t be bothered to travel all the way back to his own home.

The candles he got for her birthday– because he found out that she liked to take baths, and he insisted that the best baths were by candlelight.

The books he bought her when she started to miss her aunt and her niece– the pages filled with his thoughts or observations.

His favorite movies on her TV.

The random texts throughout her day when he was bored in class.

He had become a fixture in any of Zoya’s stories.

A habitual name that crossed her lips anytime Genya asked how she was doing.

A pervasive presence that started to hang around the corners of her dreams.

She started to wish that she had never seen him in her life. She almost wished that he had remained the stranger on campus. The anonymous stranger that would have used his handsomeness to try to get her number and then melt back to the crowd of rejections when she inevitably told him no.

And part of her hated him for not being what she expected.

He was supposed to be self-centered, narcissistic, and arrogant. Which he was. Sometimes.

What Zoya wasn’t expecting was for him to also be sharp, considerate, dependable, and one of the only people in her life who saw her edges and bitterness and didn’t feel the need to try and soften her.

my heart knows (you’re the missing piece)

Summary: It’s the anniversary of Nikolai’s family’s deaths. The weight of his crown has weighed heavier since then. He wonders if he’ll ever find peace. He wonders if he’ll ever feel whole.  

a/n: To my fellow Filipina ( @sanktnikolais​ )I lightly stalked your blog and saw that one of your fave bands is Ben&Ben. So, thank you for introducing me to a new artist, and this little ficlet is supposed to really emulate their song “The Way You Look At Me.” Pls don’t ask me where this fits in canon or think too hard about the fact Zoya would 100% not give into her feelings. Tis but vibes.

AO3

It had started to rain. The heavy drops of it hit Nikolai’s uncovered head. His hair creating pathways for rivers to run down the sides of his face.

Still, Nikolai stood statue-still in front of the dark tombstones.

“Whatever it’s worth,” Nikolai whispered, his words drowning in the sound of the storm. “I hope you are all at rest.”

I found this in my drafts and it was from a time when I didn’t have enough money for another tattoo, so I wrote a modern Zoyalai where Zoya is a tattoo artist and Nikolai lost a bet. 

It had all started with a bet.

A really stupid bet.

The kind of bet that is passed when the world is spinning and you hope that the person you were shaking hands with wouldn’t remember it when the morning sun came with the expected hangover. 

But unfortunately for Nikolai, Genya’s penchant for recording everything had worked against his favor (yet again) and now he has found himself inside of Zoya’s tattoo parlor itching at the slippery leather seats.

Nikolai wasn’t unfamiliar with tattoos. He did have a brief stint in the Navy--a stint that resulted in long, treacherous nights and a badly done compass rose tattooed on his thigh.  

He had toyed with the idea of getting another one.

Maybe when he had a better idea of what he wanted.

He was actually going to ask Zoya if she could do one for him, seeing as how she had her own business.

But the circumstances that led him to be at her station. In the middle of the day. Less than ideal.

Why yes I have been non-stop listening to Midnights 

obvious:

Anti-Hero --> Zoya

Mastermind --> Nikolai

bigger brained:

You’re On Your Own, Kid --> Zoya

Bejeweled --> Nikolai

matches and rings

a/n: I am really excited to share this piece with everyone. I love watching boxing movies, so some of my knowledge may be lacking, so if you know more than me, please don’t make fun of me. But I hope everyone enjoys reading about Zoya kicking ass and being amazing. 

@grishaversebigbang

Materialki: @gold-shades-of-a-lioness (link to the incredible piece) and @purns-art (link to the amazing art)

Summary: Zoya has been burned by her former coach and doesn’t want anything to do with this match he set up with his new athlete, Elizaveta. But this might be the only way to protect her family. And maybe this might be the only way she can finally be free of him. 

Ao3

They were like a series of mis-timed moments. A half step too late. A step too early. They spent so long stewing in silence that when the moment came for words to form into something that sounded genuine, the rock solid conviction melted like sand against the pull of a tide. 

They were lightning and thunder.

Perfect for each other. But one always arrived first, while the other lagged behind. 

And Zoya would wonder if the two of them were to be doomed this way.

Eyes that could never quite meet. Hands that were a touch too far away. A king with a treatise for a marriage. A general with duty bearing down on her shoulders.

And what if I can’t fall in love? 

Nikolai shook his head and sipped his tea. No. That wasn’t the real question that was pressing on the spider web fractures in his heart. 

Zoya presented another new woman to him as a candidate for a wife, and he stared at the blue ribbon holding her hair back away from her face.

He made some glib comment and she rolled her eyes. 

The question wasn’t if he can fall in love.

The dagger-like question that started to become a thorn to him was as simple as: And what if I can’t fall in love with anyone else?

my hand and heart are heavy burdens

A/N: This is my first mini bang piece! I had so much fun writing this, and working with @kingdombrekker​ and @anubem was an absolute delight. Please check out their amazing art that goes along with this. Now without further ado....Howl’s Moving Castle! Zoyalai au

@kingdombrekker​‘s piece: x

@anubem’s piece: x

Summary: Nikolai is just a man with a boat repair shop. Well, he would say an incredibly good looking man with a boat repair shop. But nevertheless, he lived a simple life with dreams that reached higher than the clouds. One night--one successful card game--has his life turned upside down. And the only one who could make it alright was the infamous witch Zoya Nazyalensky and her odd moving castle. 

Ao3 

It started out simply enough. A friendly wager between two strangers in dark and dusty rooms. On a night that whispered of magic and misfortune, Nikolai remembered only the warmth of drink and the sweet taste of chocolate still lingering in his mouth.

He probably should have called it a night as soon as most of his opponents had folded in their cards and bid him a dejected good night, but the stranger that had entered the bar looked so perfect for the taking. His glittering black clothes that spoke of the kind of wealth that corrupted men, the sharp looks he cast around the room as if he were the predator instead of the prey, and the slow smirk that prickled against Nikolai’s pride--it felt like the perfect storm.

For all of Nikolai’s supposed cleverness, he should have seen the scared looks of the other patrons of the bar. He should have paid closer attention to exactly what was making the rings on his hand dance with a light that did not belong to the dimly lit tavern. For a man who had grown up dreaming of meeting witches and wizards, he should have noticed the clear markings of one. Especially one who was so bad at cards.

“Interesting playing cards.” The stranger had mumbled. His pale fingers tracing the intricate patterns of his deck.

“Thank you kindly,” Nikolai had grinned. They were magic proofed. He had bought them from a travelling merchant just this morning. The woman who had sold them to him had even guaranteed that these cards would make even the dirtiest cheat honest.

“It’s hard to come by this very fine bit of magic.” He murmured as Nikolai dealt another hand. “Pray tell, how did a man such as yourself come by these?”

Nikolai hummed as he looked at his cards then placed his family’s ring to the pile of small treasures that contained most of Nikolai’s money and his opponent’s multitude of shiny trinkets.

“I’m not one to be divulging my own secrets to strangers,” Nikolai smirked as he settled his cards. “However, if you win, my dear sir, I might be persuaded to say.”

His opponent didn’t smile in return. His black beetle eyes simply studied Nikolai intensely before glancing briefly at his own cards.

Wordlessly, the stranger flipped his cards and Nikolai’s smile could only widen when he presented his winning hand.

“Better luck next time, I’m afraid.”

The man tapped his knuckles frantically as Nikolai started to shove his earnings in his bag. It was late and he had stayed way past his curfew as it is. If he hurried, he could catch a few more hours of sleep before he had to wake up with the tide tomorrow.

“Well, that would certainly teach me to play with someone with more talent than I,” The stranger finally said as Nikolai began to leave. He offered a hand, “Good game, Nikolai.”

Nikolai shook it and felt a sharp snap go through his body.

He had exited the tavern whistling softly. The night air was cool and the road was empty as he made his way home--never pausing to wonder how the stranger had learned his name.

You can always ask for Zoya and Nikolai headcanons anon. Simply because it gives me an excuse to talk about these two idiots in love. 

zoyalai howl’s moving castle au.

You think Nikolai is Howl?

Wrong.

He’s Sophie.

He gets cursed to be old by the wicked wizard of the waste (it’s the Darkling and he only did it because he was jealous of Nikolai and he had nothing else better to do) and he hates it. He then embarks on a journey to go find the a way to undo his curse.

Cue in our Howl: Zoya. She’s a little moody, but she’s hot and she’s powerful. She kind of does whatever she wants and doesn’t super care about answering the summons that the crown is asking of her. 

She comes across Nikolai and he begs her to help him, and she only agrees because he was at least helpful in helping keep the castle moving along, and Genya (Calcifer in this situation) doesn’t seem to mind him all too much. 

Idk man. Just things I think about on random Wednesdays.

It’s my birthday. This was in my drafts. So here it is. No one requested this. Just me. Based on the song, “Lighting in a Bottle” by The Summer Set. Modern Zoyalai au

We're catching lightning in a bottle Don't give a fuck about tomorrow

The rumble of skies made the sky feel like a living beast. The growl of the gray clouds that hung over them rattled the air, shaking Nikolai’s truck bed pleasantly. Not two seconds later a snap of light split illuminated capturing the silver skies perfectly before melting back to dreary night. 

Five seconds later the same rattling thunder was back. 

Nikolai tipped his head back in an almost prayer for the sky to break and for the gentle coolness of rain to fall onto his skin. 

Everything was too much lately. The heat. His parents. His brother. 

He felt like he was being choked by a humid heat. The warm air filling his lungs and baking him from the inside out. If it wasn’t his parents not-so-subtely still trying to get him to go to their alma mater where he’d have a cozy, new, private dorm room waiting for him and a degree that was basically paid for; it was his brother using every last moment to remind him of just how stupid it was to join the Navy instead of doing something more useful with his life (apparently, to Vasily, that meant getting a Business degree and spend his days drinking). 

Nikolai needed to get away. An escape away from the stupid heat. So when he woke up this morning with the sky cast in gray shadow, he couldn’t have been happier.

A hand landed in his, and a smile curled over his mouth as he turned to Zoya who wasn’t looking at him. Her gaze fixed on the crackling horizon.

He rescinded his earlier statement. He could be happier. And that was all thanks to the girl that had finally said yes to him after years of having to hide his feelings under the familiar rhythm of their snarks. 

“It’s gonna start raining soon.” She said as she took a deep breath. She could probably taste the rain in the air just as he could.

Nikolai let go of her hand briefly to throw his arm across her shoulders and draw her closer to him. Her head dropped automatically to his shoulder and he couldn’t help the smattering of butterflies that flapped in his stomach. 

Some days he still couldn’t believe that Zoya Nazyalensky had decided to go out with him. Fair enough, he didn’t usually have trouble getting anyone to go on a date with him. But it had always been different with Zoya. She was the girl that had transferred into his Russian Lit class with a sardonic kind of voice that always left you guessing if she was mocking you or actually offering advice. She was an enigma that refused to let him take the easy way out of anything. She was one of the few people he would have called a friend. And despite sharp sense of loss that came with being apart from her for months at a time, he knew the last thing she wanted him to do was throw away his life for her--he only knew that because the last time he brought up not going to bootcamp she scoffed in his face and told him, “to stop being a lovesick fool.”

It wouldn’t have mattered anyway, brilliant Zoya was starting her new job at the capital of the country, and hopefully change the world like she always wanted. It was going to be a season of long distance, and Nikolai tried his best to shove those thoughts aside.

“Are you brooding again?” Zoya murmured, her hands firm against his.

“Only for you, Nazyalensky.  I hear I look my best while brooding.” He laughed into her hair. 

“Shut up.” 

The wind was picking up now, the air around them getting heavy with drizzle. They should be take some cover, or at least move to the safety of his truck. Lightning cracked again and Nikolai smiled at the coming rain. 

“It’ll be a hell of a storm.” Nikolai yelled over the thunder.

“What other kind is there?” He could hear the smile in her voice. He felt her hand on his cheek and Nikolai turned to face her. Her eyes were dark. Another lightning strike and for a brief moment he saw a flash of a future in her eyes. “We’ll be okay, you know? We’ve been through worse. For now, it’s just you and me.” 

He raised their joined hands to his lips and kissed the rain off of the back of her hand. 

“You and me.” 

sooooooo i took an unannounced hiatus. my bad. but hey look at this thing i wrote (thanks for reading and sticking around everyone).

It was hard to look at her right now. It’s always been hard to look at her. As a general, she was the driving force that kept him moving forward. As an adviser, she was the harsh reason that kept his head to the ground. But right now, with the dying fire light in the war room he could only see her as a woman, and he felt the injustice of the situation press down on his shoulders.

Which was never something you wanted to feel the night before your wedding. 

“You need your rest, Your Majesty.” Zoya said from the stack of papers she was still reading. 

He didn’t turn his gaze from the fire. 

“So do you, Nazyalensky.” 

“I’m not the one getting married tomorrow.”

Nikolai took another big gulp of his whiskey and focused on the burn of the alcohol instead of the sharpness of her words. Maybe if he drank enough he might get through tomorrow with barely enough consciousness. The thought made him smile, and his hands were already halfway to his decanter when his glass was snatched from his hand. 

“You need to be bright-eyed tomorrow, Lantsov. You’ve had enough.” 

“Isn’t this what you’re supposed to do the night before your wedding?” He said ruefully, a bitter smile making its way to his mouth, “Drink to the last days of absolute freedom of a single man.”

“Maybe for commoners and farmers. Go to bed.”

Her clipped tone. Her perfume lazily drifting towards him. The heat of her body adding to the warmth of the fire. It was all too much. It made his head spin more than the alcohol had. 

“Simple as that? Go to bed. Get married. And the world turns.” He stood up and faced her. His eyes holding hers captive. The shadows cast the color of her eyes in darkness, but the anger that crossed them were unmistakable. 

“Complaining, Your Majesty?”

She hadn’t stepped away. Zoya tilted her head up to meet his gaze and he had never been so aware of the small space that separated them. One breath and their noses would touch. One breath and he could have her. If she let him. 

“Yes.” He admitted. “I am complaining. Because it’s never been that simple. It’s never been easy. And I want it to be.”

Her jaw clenched once and she took one small step away from him. 

“We don’t always get what we want.”

There it was. Another simple truth of the great life of Nikolai Lantsov. He supposed asking for the safety of his country and for his heart to be at ease was too much to pray for. Maybe he’s had enough miracles in his life that his luck with the gods had finally turned sour. 

A derisive laugh escaped Nikolai all of a sudden he ran his hand through his hair in frustration, and stepped towards the hearth. Trying to get away from her hard stare. Trying to get away from the way his heart was suddenly breaking. 

“It’s always been easy for you, hasn’t it?” He burst out. “To separate your heart from everything else. Duty above all things?” 

A heavy silence descended upon them, and Nikolai wished Zoya would give him her glass back. 

“You think it’s easy for me?” Her voice floated towards him on a cold whisper. He looked at her and her arms were crossed in front of her. Her face turned away from him. “I don’t have the luxury to think of anything else but duty. And neither do you.”

 She turned back towards him and he watched as she walked towards him and gently took his face in one of her hands. His breath was held captive in his throat. His body suddenly as still as a frightened prey in front of a predator-- the slightest movement might bring him to his doom. 

“We’re just two people with bad fates, Nikolai. We’re the ones that have to suffer the heartbreak so that no one else has to.”

She moved away from him then. The cold that hit him when her palm let his face was sudden and unwanted.

Just something that got inspired because of this post

It wasn’t a date.

For it to be a date that would include two people who actually liked each other went out and did activities together while having fun.

Zoya going with Nikolai to his parents’ gala was different.

Because he was a friend. One of her closer friends (though she’d never tell him that).

She only agreed because he promised she could pick the movies and their take-out for the next month. Which was a big deal because if she has to watch Star Wars for fifth time over his signature supreme nachos one more time, she was going to charge him for her future hospital bills when she inevitably had a heart attack.  

She would have said no. Zoya was sure of it. But she didn’t because he was doing that annoying thing with his eyes (he widened them like some lost puppy, the hazel of them glittering, and his stupid long eyelashes catching her attention). He would have just kept looking at her like that and the sooner he stopped, the sooner she could stop feeling the flutters in her stomach.

This evening was simply a friend doing another friend a favor. 

So, what if she was still holding onto his arm as they entered the grand estate Nikolai called a home? So, what that she didn’t pull away from him as he led her directly to the open mini-bar and talked incessantly about the regulars that always showed up at his parents’ parties. It wasn’t like he had withdrawn either. He just kept cradling her arm, tucked into his side casually, as if it were natural--as if it was meant to be there. 

It still wasn’t a date. 

Because if it was a date-- then Zoya would have to start asking herself questions. Questions she didn’t have the time (or the heart) to answer.

What if they started dating and they both broke up? How could she go back to the work and still do her job knowing that he was in the office right next to hers? How could she distract herself when she was working to get into her Masters program? What if she inevitably breaks his heart and she loses the one of the few people that didn’t cut themselves on her rough edges? What if Nikolai just became one of the long list of men that let her down?

(But what if he isn’t?)

Her and Nikolai dating had a weight to it that she wasn’t sure she could carry. So, no, this wasn’t a date.

(Even if she wanted it to be)

A friend helping a friend. That was simple enough. And Zoya let herself enjoy it. 

She enjoyed Nikolai trying to make her laugh over the dull conversation and ridiculously dressed men and women. She made snide comments at the kind of company his father chose to keep and tried to keep the surge of satisfaction buried deep when he smiled mischievously at her. She even let him lead her to the small dance area when the string quartet started to play a slow waltz, and Nikolai brought their bodies close as he led them through the steps.

The night air was crisp and Zoya was vaguely aware of other couples joining them in the dance, but for all she cared Nikolai and her were the only ones that existed. 

And at least until the song ended, Zoya leaned her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes-- letting herself pretend just for a moment that maybe this could be a date.

in and out of the ring

I have been wanting to write a zoyalai!boxing au for a really long time. I’m currently working on long form one-shot for this, but I thought I’d give a scene set in this new universe to kind of you guys a taste.

Summary: Zoya Nazyalensky is an up and coming boxer. What started as small matches to pay rent and keep food on the table for her aunt and her niece became her personal statement to the world: she can and will fight for her own survival. As she works on getting a chance at a Title Shot, she has her friends by her side, her family watching her back, and a bar owner who she can’t get out of her mind.

It was scraped knuckles and aching hands tonight. 

Zoya flexed and unflexed her hand as she iced it in the dim light of the bar. 

She’s been through worse. Although, her manager was going to kill her for not being more careful. Her coach might kill her more for not throwing her shoulder in like he keeps reminding her to do.

But she was on this side of buzzed and her adrenaline was still thrumming through her blood, and all she could do was tilt her head against the rough brick wall and smile. She could still feel that asshole’s nose break under her fist, and still hear the sound of his ass hitting the floor. He had looked at her with utter contempt, as Tolya kicked him out.

“Managed to get some ibuprofen.” 

She turned her head to the back entrance of the bar, and raised an eyebrow to her pseudo-nurse for the evening. 

“You make it sound like Genya was hoarding them for herself.”

Nikolai laughed, “Fun fact for you, Nazyalensky, I do have my own first aid kit on hand. I do care about being prepared at my own bar.” 

“Well, Genya is the nurse. I just assume all nurses are always bursting at the seams with pills.”

“Nurses and my mother both, I guess. But no, Genya was too busy trying to get Tamar to stay still for five more minutes. Something about needing to wrap the cut before Nadia came to pick her up and see the real damage.” 

“Nadia has seen Tamar after a fight, a glass scrape is nothing.” 

“Might I remind you they started dating last week.” Nikolai stepped closer and offered the bottle, “That changes things.”

“Like what?” Zoya scoffed. “It’s not like she forgot what Tamar looked like after her match two weeks ago because they started going out.”

“I know it might be a little hard for you to imagine, Zo. But when you just have to watch someone you actually care about get hurt. It’s always a little terrifying.”

Under the streetlights, Nikolai’s usual hazel eyes were a little darker. His usual swagger was missing, and there was a weight to his words that Zoya wished she could ignore. 

She reached over to grab the offered bottle of ibuprofen and just for a second her fingertips brushed his, and she could almost believe that the spark that lit up her arm was still from the lingering adrenaline. 

“Anyway,” He continued. His signature smirk guiding them back to familiar territory, “Better take care of that hand, Nazyalensky, I got money on tomorrow’s fight. Those bar chairs aren’t going to replace themselves.”

Zoya rolled her eyes, “You’ve might have long odds, Lantsov. This’ll be my first fight against an actual contender for the title. Even Juris is a little nervous about tomorrow.”  

“I’m the master of improbable, Zo, I know my odds. It’s not in you to lose.”

There it was again. A weight buried in the light teasing that bordered on true sincerity. It had been an accident befriending this strange bar owner. What was meant as a small reprieve from training and needing a place to be alone for a few hours before going home to the apartment she shared with her aunt, ended up being a place where she’d find more friends than she had in her life. And that included her bartender who then revealed he actually owned the place. 

It was months of bits and pieces of information exchanged, Nikolai and Zoya hesitant in revealing whatever darkness lay in their pasts. But even without seeing a full picture, Zoya found herself constantly being drawn to him. It was a fact that she could usually avoid thinking about, except during moments like this. The moments that rested in between their snipes and snarks. 

“I need to go home, Liliyana is gonna worry about me.” Zoya said finally. “Thanks for this.” She said shaking the bottle of pills. 

“See you in tomorrow’s match, Zoya.” Nikolai smiled as he watched her start to walk away.

“You’re going tomorrow?” 

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” He said with a wink.

Zoya found herself laughing in response as she turned away. And as she walked home with an aching hand, she pictured herself with the winning belt in her arm, and Nikolai’s glowing smile all on her.