#Tolya is so aroace coded that when I am writing romance stuff it shows

[wh0refornikolailantsov]

Prompt: “He doesn't love me. He's not that stupid.”

Song: Rosyln - Bon Iver

For Tolya x Reader please!! could be with Tamar and he overhears etc. or something else x

By Stars - Tolya Yul Bataar

Yes.

Is this sad or angsty, I honestly cant even tell anymore it is my default.

Content Warnings: No Beta/Proof Reading, Feelings???

"This is a celebration," Jesper reminds you, handing you a drink.

You take it, nod at him and hope his attention will return to Wylan, but Tamar is watching you like a hawk. She has been trying to decipher exactly what you're thinking since the burning of The Darkling's body.

She'd rather hoped some of that infectious hope and joy her brother was expressing would have reached you by now. But you were still quiet.

She has her best guess as to why. Tamar, no stranger to romance, to the eyes that linger longer than they should. To the way a heart beats that much faster when they move near. To the way a tone can change when speaking a name. Tolya may be the one to read the high romances of poetry but Tamar is the one to know them, to recognise them.

And you have been holding your breath, keeping your self close, arms tight across your chest, focusing on keeping your heartbeat as calm as you can, trying not to give yourself away.

Tolya smiles at you from his seat and there it is, that leap in your chest and Tamar's guess has all the evidence she needs.

"Okay," Jesper smiles, another drink in, "go on then, read us something you gentle giant."

Tolya laughs and looks up from his book. "From this?" he asks.

"From a confession if you like," Jesper says, leaning back and into Wylan who is watching him with those bright adoring eyes of his. Had you ever had doubt in love, the time spent with the crows would have swayed any doubt. Nina's dedication to freeing her love. The selfless and understanding quiet of the love Kaz and Inej clearly share. And the love that is bright and shining between Jesper and Wylan, so bright even through all of his obliviousness Tolya noticed.

"I still recall the wondrous moment: When you appeared before my sight As though a brief and fleeting omen, Pure phantom in enchanting light," Tolya reads aloud. Wylan turns his eyes from Jesper to smile at Tolya.

"You know I find that quite wonderful," Wylan states.

"Don't encourage him," Tamar groans. "He will start recalling from memory."

"If you insist sister," Tolya's tone is jovial and light and Tamar tries to brush his words away with a hand and a glare, but it does not discourage him. "In ecstasy the heart is beating, Old joys for it anew revive; Inspired and Saints-filled, it is greeting The fire, and tears, and love alive."

"Excuse me," you say getting up. Tolya's eyes follow you as you leave, but it's Tamar who walks out the door behind you.

"You are upset," Tamar says, joining you by the wall outside.

"I am not," you attempt to lie.

"Well I could've told you that isn't true without the ability to listen to your heartbeat," Tamar says. She bumps your shoulder gently, a reassuring gesture, a familiar one. "Talk to me."

"There's not much to talk about," you say.

"Because you're stubborn and want to keep your feelings to yourself or because he is my brother?" she asks out right. You whip your head to the side to look at her and she shrugs it off, giving a knowing look up to the sky. "I am not too wrapped up in the pretty women to ignore those around me."

"Nadia is very pretty," you say, trying you deflect.

"I am surprised you noticed, I thought you only had eyes for my brother."

"I don't have eyes for your brother."

"Oh, and the second lie so far," Tamar says, "come on, you don't have to lie to me, or to you, if it runs that deep."

"I... what is the point?" You ask.

"You have feelings and they're clearly affecting you, that's the point," Tamar says.

"That's my own fault," you say.

"Walk me through it," Tamar insists. You want to tell her to leave it be, but Tamar is persistent. And also brutally honest, so maybe hearing the need to move past and move on from her mouth instead of just the voice in your head will finally do the trick.

"We made it," you say quietly.

"We did," she smiles.

"We... all made it," you reiterate.

"By the Saints."

"And he was so happy and so proud and he had," you inhale deeply, "and he shares that joy so willingly."

"He is always himself," Tamar agrees, her eyes are watching your smaller movements, listening to the shuddering of your breath. She wants to help, to calm you down, to push off your nerves, but you asked long ago for no interference and she respects that. You want to feel what you feel, even now, even when you don't.

"So when he said he was so glad that I was okay, and he wrapped his arms around me, I forgot how to breathe, and for one- blindingly stupid moment I thought... I don't know what I thought, and it doesn't matter because it wasn't real."

"I wouldn't assume to know my brothers feelings so easily," Tamar says, "he might surprise you."

"Tamar, I fell in love with your brother a long time ago, he does nothing but surprise me," you say. Tamar tilts her head impressed at the honesty, impressed more at the bluntness.

"You cannot know his mind without talking to him," Tamar says.

“He doesn't love me. He's not that stupid.”

"To love you isn't stupid," she says, "besides if he did not love you, that would not be about you. I am somewhat convinced my brother is not built that way."

"Between his books and his faith what more could he need?" you ask.

"You're asking the wrong person," Tamar points out.

"I am not asking," you reply, "not really."

He held on just a moment longer than you thought he would, smiling down at you and that was it took for your hopes to jump high above your expectations, and come crashing down into you when he finally let you go. You do not know what you thought would happen, that you would win, all make it out alive and finally the timing would be right, things would be different, you would know it because you would feel it in the way he looks at you. But all you feel is this regret at letting yourself think it would change, letting yourself be disappointed in something that you knew would never happen. Your love for Tolya did not need to be requited but in the moments you hoped it would be, you had broken your own heart.

"For someone who reads so much of romance, with such a true admiration for the poetics of love, my brother is not always aware enough to recognise it, I have watched the same two lovestruck fools dance around each other for the same time that he has, and he has seen nothing where I have seen all that was unsaid but equally wanted," Tamar gestures. "He would not presume to know your feelings for him, because he sees love as something on a page, between the words and the mind. I think he has never considered it as something he might do, but that isn't to say he can't."

"I do not think you give him enough credit, you should have seen him with Jesper and Wylan," you state.

"A blind man could see what was happening between Jesper and Wylan," Tamar offers. "I think you should talk to him."

"I do not wish to waste my time Tamar, and it would be better that he know not at all, keep him in this blissful ignorance instead of him feeling some obligation to be delicate around me," you say.

"My brother would not treat you differently out of pity, his feelings are only ever genuine, and his actions intentional," Tamar defends.

"I do not want him to see me differently, and I do not want to hurt myself further, please let me wallow in peace," you say. Tamar sighs.

"You won't come back inside?" she asks.

"To listen to him read poems about love, show the beauty of romance, and wish for something else?" you ask. "No I shall wait for this feeling to pass, as it will pass, and I can be normal for him again."

Tamar just shakes her head, and says nothing else as she leaves.

You stare up and the sky is so dark and the stars so bright that that ring of light is soaking into the darkness, giving the stars a bigger brighter saturation, and you just want to breathe the cold air in and deep better. But you now just feel alone.

You feel the movement behind you before you hear the approach. "Tamar I have nothing more to say about it," you say.

"Not Tamar," comes Tolya's voice and startles you. You turn to look at him and he is so much closer than you realised, you want to chastise yourself for not noticing, for letting your guard so completely down.

But you were always like that with Tolya.

"I did not mean to upset you," Tolya says.

"How much did you hear?" you ask, leaning back on the balls of your feet, the guilt of all you may have put on him pulling at you. He goes to speak but his eyes give him away. "So everything." You sigh. "it's not your fault Tolya. My feelings are my responsibility."

"And so are mine," he says, coming to stand beside you as Tamar had before him. "You know, for all my love of poetry, I cannot claim to have felt what these poets have in their ways."

"Tolya, you don't have to explain," you say quickly, "I did not mean to put this on you-,"

"You are putting nothing on me," he states.

"I am not asking you to love me," you say, looking at your hands, begging them to stay steady.

"I know you're not, but I am not telling you I don't," he says. You look at him now, and his eyes are soft and golden, and his expression kind and light. He looks like the things poetry talks about, by the light of the starred night. "I care about you, and I don't know if it's in the way you want me to, but I don't know if I have ever felt that way, or if I will ever feel that way, but I need you to know that in my way, in all the ways I know how I do love you." You give him a weak smile and he feels your heartbeat steady for the first time all day. "Maybe I am just that stupid."

"You heard that?" You ask, relaxing enough to allow your shoulders to lean against him.

"I can pretend I didn't if you like," he offers. You laugh, and it's gentle, like the moment.

"I loved you: love may not have died

completely in my soul,

but don’t let it disturb you,

I don’t wish you any pain," you recite, your breath standing cold in the air, but the feeling ever warmer than before.

"I loved you without hope or voice," Tolya continues.

with diffidence, jealousy,

as tenderly, truly, as Saints grant

you may be loved again."

[wh0refornikolailantsov]

Prompt: “I think you're still my person. I'm just hoping that maybe one day, I can be yours again too.”

Song: The Night We Met - Lord Huron

For Tolya x Reader please!!

Follow Your Arrow - Tolya Yul Bataar

Summary: Ace & Aro/Ace Solidarity.

Content Warnings: Self Doubt And Self Questioning. Struggles With Identity In Regards To Sexuality, Relationships And The Expectations Of Others. Miscommunication Trope. Angst. No Beta/ Proof Reading.

Things had been so much easier before. Things had been simpler then too. Back when you felt like you understood your place, your direction. The heart is an arrow, Inej's voice reminds you in the back of your mind, it demands aim to land true. Your heart was an arrow alright, that much was never an easy thing to hide. Your heart runs the show and your mind follows slow in suit.

"You are all heart, dirre," Nina had told you once. "And I love that about you, but it makes it hard to be sure which way you will lean, your heart is impulsive and you have never learned to not follow it."

"You'll follow it off a cliff edge one of these days," Kaz had added, not bothering to look up.

As much as you had wanted to argue, there had been no point in denying it, you knew that then and you know it now. You will follow your heart wherever it leads you, you don't know any other way.

And yet, your heart s tugging at you, begging, screaming, demanding, you are trying your best to drown it out. It goes against your very nature, but you don't know what else to do. Your heart has never lead you wrong, and by the Saints you knew falling for the kind hearted zowa with the golden eyes wasn't a misstep. But you also know all the things those around you want. It's not that you've been overly perceptive, just that in your experience people are surprisingly honest about the things they seek. Maybe it was spending all the time with Tamar, and how freely she would speak of all the things she wanted, all the things she thought and desires, the way she would make whispers at some pretty girl at a tavern and you'd see the girl blush and bite her lip. The way Tamar would throw you and your companions a wink before turning back to her flirtations.

You knew what you were expected to want, expected to think about, and you thought that maybe you did, in moments and in flashes but they'd pass you by and you wondered if they were ever there at all.

These deliberations of wondering what was expected of you and what was wanted from you, and what was keeping you at an unwanted distance.

You could talk to Tolya about, but the idea of that made your stomach turn and your heart ache, like there was something in those words you weren't meant to be saying, something to keep hidden.

Tolya has noticed your distancing, and he tried not to wonder too deeply about all the reasons you could be pulling away from him. Your company has become his favourite way to spend his time, your presence bringing him a sense of calm and appreciation that he hasn't found in anyone else.

And he cannot discern why you have started keeping such a distance. He is sure he has done something wrong, and that's what is on his mind as he approaches you, slowly, gently, the way he would approach a wolf... or maybe a bear.

"I am sorry," are the first words that leave his mouth. They confuse you instantly.

"What for?" you ask.

"Whatever it is that I have done," he says, which tells you nothing.

"I don't follow," you respond.

"I seem to have upset you in some way, there is a rift that wasn't here before," as he tries to explain you feel your guilt bubbling over. This was your issue, and somehow you'd made him feel bad for it.

"Tolya you've done nothing wrong," you assure him. "I am the problem."

"I don't see a problem," he says, and sits next to you, "so if you talk to me, maybe we can see where we stand differently on that."

"I don't think I can be," you sigh, "there is this person I need to be, the person I am, and this person that you need me to be, or want me to be, or should want me to be, and I cannot be them. Equally I think there is probably this version of you I wish for you to be that I cannot expect you to be and if neither of us can be these people then I don't know, I felt it was better if I stepped away."

He frowns. “I think you're still my person. I'm just hoping that maybe one day, I can be yours again too.”

"Tolya," your voice is strained, you want to make him understand, no, you need to make him understand. "I am not like the others."

"I know," he smiles, "I have always admired that about you."

"No, Tolya, you misunderstand me," you say, "I... I do not want things that I should want, I don't have feelings where I should have them, and it's not about you, I think I might love you," you don't let your thoughts linger on the words, you just keep talking, "but that doesn't change anything, and I thought it might, I thought maybe I was looking in the wrong places, but I think maybe it's not as simple as that. These feelings aren't something I am going to just find one day, pick up like a new skill, I don't think I have them. I don't want the things I know people think I want, the things they think I should want, things I think I should want." You sigh. "If I had those feelings I'd have them for you," you admit. "But I don't have them, and I can't... I don't think I will have them. And I know that is not exactly something that a lot of people want to hear."

"I do not need you to have those feelings," Tolya says slowly, thinking each word over carefully, "I do not... have those feelings."

"You don't?" You ask. Then before he speaks. "Oh you don't for me, that's fine, that makes sense." His laugh is not sad but there's a tiredness in it, not for you, but almost as if he is finally putting down something he has been carrying.

"No, I just don't," he says, "at all."

"You don't?" you repeat, you feel your heart rise into your chest. You cannot believe yourself. You jumped to conclusions, you assumed things of Tolya because others have assumed them of you. Of Tolya. How had you got your lines so crossed.

"That's not to say I do not love you," Tolya says quickly, "because I think that I do," he doesn't miss the way you smile at the floor as he says this, "but I just think it's different."

"Not what others are talking about when they speak," you say, understanding him entirely.

"To love you..." he pauses, "it is like to love myself. Loving you, is an extension of me."

"What I see of myself in you, makes me love those parts of me more because I cannot help but love you," you say. He smiles.

"Exactly," he says. "I have never wanted anything more from you than what you already give."

"I want only for your company, for your closeness, for the way your eyes see me in ways others cannot."

"I only want to know that when I look for you, I will always find you."

"That I can always find home, because home is you."

Tolya relaxes. "We misunderstood eachother," he says.

"Well, it's rare," you admit, "but it happens."

"So you're happy?" he asks. You nod.

"You thought I was unhappy?" you ask.

"I thought I had done something wrong," he admits.

"I thought I was wrong," you whisper.

"I do not believe two people have ever been more suited to each others company, as when the Saints placed us here at the same time."

"And I couldn't be more grateful."