#the zoya factor

[singinprincess]

The Zoya Factor (2019)

[i-got-the-feels]

Favorite Sonam Kapoor Outfits for The Zoya Factor Promotions

[mad-who-ra]

Dulquer is a cutie

[sampigehoovu]

everytime I watch Zoya Factor, I have to read the Zoya Factor to cleanse myself.

[strepsils123]

im telling you this man in this movie has my heart aagggghhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

DULQUER SALMAAN in THE ZOYA FACTOR (2019)

[richdadpoor]

Dulquer Salmaan FINALLY Reacts To Rana Daggubati's Comment On Sonam Kapoor: 'Whatever He Chose To Say...'

Dulquer Salmaan finally comments on Rana Daggubati’s indirect dig at Sonam Kapoor. Dulquer Salmaan broke his silence over the fiasco caused by Rana Daggubati’s indirect statement about Sonam Kapoor. Rana Daggubati recently made a statement regarding a leading actress who wasted Dulquer Salman’s time on sets. He did not take anyone’s name but fans were quick enough to guess that he was referring…

[naushtheaspiringauthor]

~Child Of The Storm~

Nikolai Lantsov x OC

Image by - @brokendreamtale2

Warnings- slight ptsd and mentions of scars

A/N- CHILD OF THE STORM IS BACK YALL. I am SO sorry for disappearing for like, three months life's been A LOT. There's only two three more chapters left until the fic's over. I cannot believe it's been more than a year. BUT there is something new coming up very soon (tho it would be a lot sooner IF I JUST FIGURE OUT HOW TO FIX THE DAMNED PLOT HOLE). Anyways, this chapter's a bit long so buckle in. And let me know if you'd like to be added or removed from the taglist!

Taglist- @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @sirisuorionblack @evelyndane @marauders-wife @el-de-phi

Ch-65 ~and it was either going to make her stronger than ever~

Anaya stopped at the doorway. She took a deep breath before entering the ballroom.

The place was a massive hall with shiny golden walls and chandeliers that covered almost the entire ceiling. It was where all of the royal events were hosted.

And tonight, for Nikolai’s coronation, Genya had done a great job of making even the hideous Grand Palace appear endearing. 

Even though Nikolai was supposed to be the centre of attention tonight, every head turned as Anaya went in. 

Even Nikolai himself had turned to look at her.

“Great” she thought, not quite fond of the gesture. She’d already been late because she’d spent the afternoon working when she should've been preparing for the event.

She walked forward, her gown brushing against the laces of her shoes, a smile on her face.

She saw Genya and Zoya standing in a far corner, gesturing to her to come to them.

“Councillor Nasrazeen,” A man spoke up, blocking her path. “It’s an honour to finally meet you” he smiled. Though his narrowed eyes and raised eyebrow expressed how he was much more irritated to meet her.

 “Duke Verensky” he introduced himself.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you as well, Duke Verensky” Anaya said, a smile plastered across her face.

“I have to say,” he began. “Ravka truly is changing its ways of working” He raised his brows. “Given how the Council is now being led by a Grisha woman”.

There it was.

When the news of Anaya’s position had reached the nobles, some had been intrigued as to why she’d become the Councillor. Others had simply refused to accept it. 

“Surely you’re aware of all the events that have happened in our country since last year,” Anaya said, her voice unwavering. “Ravka is certainly seeing changes it hadn’t ever seen before.” She tilted her head. “And perhaps it’s for the best.” 

But the Duke only narrowed his eyes further, “That we shall see” he gave a nod, walking away.

The coronation began shortly afterwards and lasted for a while. 

Anaya glanced at the clock. It’d only been an hour since she’d arrived, and yet it had felt like an eternity.

The prying eyes of the guests and their never ending questions made her want to walk out the door, but she had no other choice but to stay.

“Why exactly did King Nikolai choose you for a position that holds such great importance?” One of the guests asked.

“I believe you would have to ask his majesty himself about his decision” She offered as pleasantly as she could. 

“Still, if you had to think of a possible reason, what would you choose?” She pressed.

It’s probably because I don’t ask useless questions.

“It could be, as I’ve worked by his side during the civil war and because of my experience on foreign lands” She said. 

“Surely you would need more factors than that to be worthy of running a country” the woman said, smiling.

Why don’t you run it instead.

Anaya forced her lips into a smile, “Duchess, I-”

“I deeply apologise for interrupting you,” Genya appeared by her side. “But I’m afraid I’ll have to borrow Miss Nasrazeen for a moment” she smiled and dragged Anaya away by her arm.

“How do I thank you for this favour Genya” Anaya let out an exasperated sigh as she went to the corner where Zoya was.

“By actually dressing up on time” Genya grinned as she rolled a single amber eye.

“That woman is a menace,” Zoya added, handing Anaya a glass of champagne.

“That I figured out” Anaya rolled her eyes, taking the glass.

“I have to say,” Genya glimpsed at her dress. “You do look good in blue”.

“‘Immensely endearing’ is the term I’d use” Anaya flashed a grin. 

She lowered her voice“ I'm surprised how you managed to turn this hideous palace appealing ”

“What can I say” Genya straightened her shoulders. “I'm very talented”.

“Where is David by the way?” She asked

Genya rolled her eye, “He left as soon as the Coronation was over. He's very repulsive to social gatherings”.

“However do you deal with him” Zoya said, shaking her head.

There was a brief silence, filled by their similar thoughts.

“It's so hard,” Zoya sighed. “Pretending to be thrilled about all this, as if nothing happened”.

Anaya gave a single nod of her head. “That's what this all is” she lifted a shoulder. “Pretending to move on, getting used to the changes, acting along in the play”.

“Atleast Nikolai’s doing it a lot better than us,” Genya said, her gaze drifting over to where he was standing.

Anaya nodded in agreement. 

Even after all he'd endured, he'd managed to keep the act going, playing the parts he was expected to.

She had no idea how he did it all, when she could do nothing to shake the feeling of her scars creeping over her, reminding her of how they came to be.

Slithering like thorned vines over her arms, her back.

The evening stretched on and the nobles continued to pester Anaya with their inane questions.

And she had no choice but to offer them and answer.

…………………………………..

Anaya stood near one of the tables at a corner, a glass of champagne in her hand. It was getting immensely difficult to get through the event without it.

She then noticed two of the grisha students silently creeping out with a bottle of champagne hidden behind their backs.

“And where exactly do you two plan to be going?” Anaya said, appearing behind them.

The Fabrikator and the Heartrender turned around hastily, trembling in fear upon the sight of her.

“Nowhere…ma’am” The Boy began, refusing to meet her gaze

But the Heartrender cut him off, “I actually needed some fresh air so I told him to go outside” She offered.

Despite being shorter, Anaya seemed to be the one looking down at them.

“And I suppose you also need the champagne to enjoy the fresh air” She raised an eyebrow.

“We-” The girl began, but Anaya's sceptical gaze stopped her from further speaking.

Anaya looked at them for a moment, “What are your names?” She said, finally speaking.

“I- Nestor Verakov”, ma’am” The boy looked at his feet.

Anaya's gaze shifted to the girl.

“Nina Zenik” she said, managing to look up.

Anaya sighed, “Fine go, just don't let the General see you” she glanced at Zoya who was surrounded by a group of First Army officials.

They barely nodded before rushing out the door.

Anaya sighed and went back to her corner before another noble could drag her off.

She looked around, taking a sip from her second glass.

“Going very fast on the champagne are we?” She turned to see Nikolai with a smile on his face. “I will need my Councillor to be able to work tomorrow you know” He walked to her side.

Anaya sighed, “Yeah yeah”.

“You know,” He stood beside her. “Even though it’s supposed to be my day, you’re the one gathering all the attention” He flashed a grin.

Anaya rolled her eyes, “These people ask the most inane questions” She shook her head. “I get people asking how I plan on bringing developments to the country,” She waved her hand. “But how am I supposed to know what kind of woman the new king would be willing to marry?” She turned her hand.

He shook his head in disdain but he was smiling, “Ah, the nobles” He tilted his head briefly. “They tend to do that quite a lot, you’ll get used to it”.

“Perhaps you should tell them that the King’s looking for a seamstress who plays the eighteen string Khatur”.

Anaya turned to him, “Why specifically the eighteen string?” She raised a brow. “Why not the twelve?”.

“I” He began. “am a cultured man Anaya” He spoke as dramatically as he could manage with the guests watching them. “The eight string is for uncultured fools, don’t you think?”

“I don’t know,” Anaya put her glass down. “I don’t have much interest in string instruments”.

He paused briefly then spoke, “I’d have to thank you for your advice” His voice was much lower and serious.  “Really helped me get through all this”.

Anaya looked at him and gave the barest shake of his head, “Well I’m not one to offer advice,” She met his gaze. “But I’m glad I could help” Her lips formed a small smile.

……………………………………………

The topic had come up the previous morning. Anaya had been in her study, working, when Zoya and Genya had shown up to have tea with her.

“Nikolai doesn’t seem very thrilled about it,” Zoya had pointed out.

Genya nodded, “He appears distressed” She lowered her voice. “After all he’s endured, I’m not sure if he wishes to be King all the same.”

“But he has to,” Zoya said.

Genya gave a distant nod, pondering upon something. “Anaya” She turned to her.

“Hmm?” Anaya looked away from her papers. 

“You should speak with him”.

Anaya furrowed her brows, “What why?”.

Genya picked up her teacup, “He needs someone to tell him that he doesn’t need to fret about being the King”.

Anaya looked at her with an utterly confused look, “Why me? Why can’t either of you speak with him?”. 

She glanced at Zoya. “Well not her, but why can’t you do it”

Zoya rolled her eyes.

“I don’t…really speak with him” Genya said, hesitation lingering in her voice. “Given all that has happened”.

Genya had been pardoned only because of Alina Starkov. So there still was some hesitation between her and Nikolai. And Anaya had the feeling he didn’t fully trust her yet.

“Plus, he does seem to listen to you,” Zoya added.

Anaya raised her brows.

“He does, actually,” Genya agreed.

So Anaya had spoken with him. 

Not the entire day. The only time she’d seen him was when she’d been walking down the hall with the Finance Minister. 

When she’d been walking back to the Little Palace at night, then she’d seen him. Standing near the lake, almost irrecognizable.

"Nervous about the big day?" Anaya asked as she walked towards him. 

He turned to her in utter curiosity. His gaze softened upon the sight of her, "Well yeah" he sighed. "It's quite weird".

 He looked up at the night sky, the gleaming stars. "Even though I've been preparing for this my entire life, it still seems very daunting". 

She stood next to him.

 "It is understandable" she met his gaze. "I mean it's not everyday you get to be the King" she tilted her head. "It can be quite strange, when the moment you've been waiting, preparing for so long, finally comes". Her voice was low, the breeze on a summer night, making the trees waver gently. 

"For a long while, it almost seems impossible".

 "Improbable, actually" Nikolai lifted a finger, a corner of his mouth turned up.

 "What?" She said, utterly perplexed.

 "Nothing is truly impossible, it's only ever improbable".

 She nodded briefly in amusement, "Well, alright".

The silence lingered in the air, gentle, comforting, a hand held in another.

“Is this what you wanted to do?” Nikolai spoke, turning towards her.

She furrowed her brows in confusion.

“To be the council leader,  run the country?” He amended.

She looked at him, startled by the question but soon, her gaze softened. “Well, I’ve been certain for a long while” she looked at her hands. “That I wish to help the people, work for their betterment”. 

“And if being the Councillor is my way to do it, then I’m content with this job.” She lifted a shoulder.

She turned to the sky, admiring the gleaming stars, the moon at the centre of it all, shining the brightest.

She could feel his gaze on her, lingering in the silence. She didn’t look at him, she didn’t believe she could.

“It’s not easy,” he finally spoke. “Pretending to be your best version, when you’re still picking up the pieces”.

“Isn’t that what we’re all doing?,” she said, finally turning towards him. “Pretending to be okay when we’re not?”.

He nodded, looking at the sky, appearing as if he’s reminiscing.

“You’ll make a great King,” Anaya’s voice wavered in the air. 

He met her gaze, his eyes gleaming in the moonlight. 

“Especially because you’ll have an immensely talented Councillor by your side” She lifted her grinning, a small grin playing on her lips.

He smiled, “That, I will”.

[aleksanderscult]

Hello, I started following your blog pretty recently and I agree with most of what you think. I felt so confused when I finished the books and came on tumblr to see everyone hailing malina as the perfect relationship and I was glad to know that I wasn't the only one who disliked him.

I wanted to ask you something, im not sure if I saw this on this blog, but someone said that zoya is an example of toxic feminism in YA fantasy. Which checked out to me, but it also felt that bardugo added misogyny, feminism and toxic feminism in the SaB series.

Misogyny since alina had to face sloot-shaming in every book (almost entirely by Malyen ugh 😒). I felt that she really tried and suceeded to be feminist with genya, since she actually stood up for herself and had many facets to her personality. She also wasn't an important character just because of her beauty or anything super superficial. Genya IS a strong female character, and she wasn't 'broken' by the king, despite the foul things he did.

But zoya.. my god, I really wanted to like her, but I just couldn't. She is mean and hot headed to the point where I really don't see any redeeming factors to her. I always liked 'mean girl character who isnt as shallow as she seems' in fantasy novels, but she didnt exactly have a redemption arc either. If the darkling had warned her about expanding the fold in the first book, she would have fought for him. I think she isnt a strong female character, but just a girl who is a bully and decided to help mc since the antagonist hurt her specifically. She doesnt even think of the other casualties of novokribirsk. I think the 'break nikolais heart, I'll comfort him and make a magnificent queen' part was a joke, but still....

Please excuse my yapping. I haven't read crooked kingdom and nikolais duology, so I don't know if the characters had any developement since then, so please ignore any innacuracies of this text pertaining to that. Do you have any thoughts on this?

(Do you allow emoji annons? If so, can I be 🎀 annon?)

(Of course I do! You can use any emoji you want and ribbons remind me of coquettish things 😍)

Genya in S&B was my favorite version of her. She was traumatised by the King's abuse, that's true. But she wasn't solely that.

(Here's a meta about that version of her that I once did)

She was very brave, vengeful, intelligent, politically aware, had a sense of humor and was kind. There were different aspects to her personality and wasn't solely "the victim" as many fans of the Grishaverse like to portray her. But in Nikolai's duology Bardugo either forgot how to write complex situations within a court or just doesn't know how to (or it doesn't suit her 🙃).

She threw all the blame to the Darkling (as if he was entirely at fault for her sexually abuse), forgot that Grisha were serfs meant to please and serve the royal family (hence why the Darkling gave her to the Queen) and also forgot how it was the Queen who withdrew her protection and allowed her husband to abuse her. Also, a slight amnesia to how Genya herself decided to stay and take revenge. Essentially, the character became Leigh's mouthpiece to remind the reader that the Darkling is a heartless motherfucker that is undeserving of redemption. How banal.

Now about Zoya. Zoya is the typical female character that we encounter in media nowadays. A girlboss that kicks ass, is rude, has no sensitivity and threatens everyone. Again, cliché. But Leigh broke her own in-universe laws when she gave Zoya the protagonist's role.

Meaning:

The narrative with Alina as a protagonist: "You can't have feelings for your enemy!! You can't be independent! You need to depend on your toxic, childhood friend and...what is this? Power?? You took three amplifiers?? WELL SAY GOODBYE TO YOUR POWERS THAT KEEP YOU HEALTHY AND STRONG!!"

The narrative with Zoya as a protagonist: "Take the amplifiers, take the power to turn into a dragon, let's also have a Saint in your head giving you advice and guess?!? You just got promoted into a Queen and soon enough you will marry the love of your life!! Kudos!!"

That's basically what happened.

It would be an amazing end if only:

- Otkazat'sya didn't hate the Grisha's guts.

- Zoya had the qualities of a leader and a Queen instead of being handed the throne on a silver plate from an illegitimate son who failed in his job.

- The author didn't break her own rules just to prove and show how "awesome" her protagonists are.

- The same author didn't copy paste the storyline of Daenerys Targaryen into Zoya's (somehow she needed to appear cool and sympathetic)

- Half of the fandom didn't hate the primary protagonists now than they ever did before.

So basically Leigh infuriated the fandom even more about Alina's fate when she gave Zoya everything.

And about your question if the characters had any development in the later books after the trilogy. I've got some bad news, my friend. 🥲

[heliads]

req with nikolai lantsov x reader. they are married for convenience but are friends and support each other until they fall in love and everyone notices but them. reader and nikolai kiss a few times and sleep together but never talk about it. when zoya becomes queen nikolai asks reader if she will want to stay married to him and reader says she loves him, with or without a crown. angst with a lot of fluff at the end please!

anon i love the way you think (also all hail dragon queen zoya)

masterlist

Your husband may be joining you shortly.

It’s still strange to be saying that. Your husband, your king, your friend above all. Nikolai Lantsov has always been a great conspirator, a wonderfully clever thinker, so you trusted that he wasn’t merely making a drunken mistake when he asked for your hand in marriage over too many drinks one late night. Nikolai doesn’t do drunken mistakes. In fact, you think he gets drunk on purpose when making difficult choices to twist his enemies into thinking that they’ve got the upper hand, all so he can trick them when their eyes are closed in self-congratulation.

It might be a habit left over from his time burning the seas as Sturmhond, or it could just be Nikolai himself. Always the schemer, him; always the planner, the one with the ideas. His eyes glint like ice, his hair shines like metal. Both can cut if given the chance. No Lantsov would ever let themselves go into the unknown vastness without a weapon, even if the only one left is their own physical flesh and bone.

No, Nikolai wasn’t kidding when he asked you to marry him. By all accounts, it was a logical choice. The other nations had been clamoring for him to wed one of their daughters for quite some time now, and marrying you gave Nikolai an easy way out. You were a Ravkan noble, and well-connected to the independence cause while the Darkling was still in power. Having you as his bride would alienate no foreign powers just as it would connect him even further to his own people.

That’s the reason he gave you at least, his fingers tented in the shadow of a half-empty glass of champagne. The two of you were somewhere inside one of the Grand Palace’s mammoth rooms, far from the slippery wastes of the shadows outside. Nikolai always gambled best when his feet were on his own ground, when he didn’t have to fear anything or anyone interrupting his flow of thought. He could trick you into pledging your loyalty regardless of where he stood, of course, but it could never hurt to get the odds all in his favor.

You had said yes. Of course you had. You are Nikolai’s best friend, or so you like to claim. You think it could be true at one point. Maybe that will come after the veil descends over your eyes and a ring appears on your finger. Still, you think you’ll remember the way Nikolai’s gaze had sparked with triumph upon hearing your answers for years to come, as well as how he’d finally allowed a tipsy flush to descend upon his cheeks. Perhaps it wouldn’t be a terrible mistake after all.

The wedding served its political purpose. The biggest change the marriage gave your life was that it handed you a permanent spot in the Grand Palace. Before, you were always temporary, forever having your terms of service extended as your help was needed more and more in the war effort. Now, you’re a fixture for real, never having to worry about being gradually cut out again. It certainly allows you to make it to meetings on time with that much more certainty.

Also, you’re not alone anymore. You never were, not really; Ravka is a cramped sort of annex, the kind of place in which you can hardly go down the length of a street without bumping into at least half a dozen people. The palace is on a whole separate level, however. Here, there are guards stationed everywhere, First and Second Army alike, then all the Grisha there with the Triumvirate or having arrived to report from the Little Palace just around the corner. Factor in palace staff, random diplomats, and spies, and you’ve got an audience fit for any queen, no matter how recently crowned. 

No, hardly a dull moment indeed. Still, in the times when you need company most, those late nights when you’re certain that Ravka could never possibly come back from all the fights it has chosen to pick, you have someone there with you, someone who understands. When the moon has hung overhead for quite some time and the lights are off, Nikolai sits by your side, whispers that it’s going to be alright. Neither of you believe it, but it makes it better to hear someone you trust speak the foolish hopes aloud.

In all honesty, you think you’re growing to rely on him a little too much. At the beginning, you and Nikolai both agreed that this was strictly a marriage of convenience, that you had started this whole affair as friends and you would end it as such as well. Yet when Nikolai presents you to everyone in his path as his wife with that same giddy look on his face, it’s easy to pretend that his feelings could be elsewhere.

Elsewhere, just as yours are now. You had not intended to fall for him, but Nikolai does not make it a difficult task. He never has. There is another reason you agreed to his proposal, one you would not tell him in a thousand years:  you assumed that you would never get such a chance again. Nikolai is, after all, a royal, and you are not. If you had declined his offer, it would only be to watch him wed someone else. At least now you get to claim his heart. At least now it is halfway yours, even if he grows to love someone else. On paper, he is chained to you.

Some days, that is enough. Others, you won’t satisfy yourself until you know for sure. There are a few nights when both of you want to prove something, when you take kvas instead of water for too long and let yourselves pretend that your alliance is something more than mere politics. You have kissed him more than you thought you would, even when no one was watching and there was no audience in need of a ruse to be kept up. You did it because you wanted to, and he kissed you back because he needed it just as much as you.

You never offer up an explanation for those nights, and neither does he. In the morning, you both go about your business as if nothing had ever happened. In reality, it hasn’t. Small altercations involving both of you ignoring your duties have no place in the future. You are wed for Ravka and you’ll die for her too. Falling in love is only a distraction, and not one that will serve you well. You learn that soon enough.

Your husband may be leaving you shortly.

Nikolai is not a Lantsov, not really. The rumor mills have known it for some time, and you think Nikolai has as well. Of course it would all come to ruin at some point. Nikolai has had an incredible grip on his broken country for quite some time, but all those petty shards just sliced his hands to ribbon. It would all drop eventually, and no one could blame him for that.

The nobles wanted answers. They always do. What you did not expect, however, was to walk out of a conference in which Zoya Nazyalensky was named as ruler of Ravka instead of Nikolai. The general of the Second Army is a worthy queen, of course, and you easily hand your title over to her; the stress could gray your hair like a silver tiara, but it still leaves you wondering what comes next.

It also makes you think about Nikolai. Nikolai, who wed you to avoid political conflict. Nikolai, who is no longer in that same position. Nikolai, who has absolutely no reason to remain married to you at all.

Your thoughts race in a tumultuous rhythm all the way back to your quarters after that fateful meeting. It’s going to hurt. What will? And:  of course it will. What in this world doesn’t? You close the door behind you and walk halfway into the room before coming to a stop again. This has been your place for so long. It almost feels cruel to leave it.

The door opens behind you. You don’t have to turn around to know who has intruded on your shared space. You have long since been able to identify Nikolai by the turn of his step, the even rush of his breath, the quiet shuffle of his fingers in his gloves.

“Do you hate me for not giving you more advance notice?” He asks. Nikolai is careful to keep his voice neutral, but you hear the way his breathing hesitates as he waits for your response.

“No,” you say, although you do not turn around, “I knew you came up with it about thirty seconds before you said it. You didn’t have time.”

Nikolai exhales slowly. “We’ve had a lot of time.”

You close your eyes. This is the part you’ve been waiting for. This is when he ends it. Nikolai has no more use for you, not after he’s done his political maneuvering and finally managed to get himself out of the whole mess of kingship. You have always loved Nikolai for his mind, but Saints, if it doesn’t hurt sometimes to feel it used in the wrong direction.

“You could do it, you know,” you whisper, “No one would blame you.”

Nikolai had been starting to walk towards you, but his heels come to an abrupt click-stop on the floor. “What?”

You let out a bitter, quiet laugh. “End it. The marriage. People are already asking if you’re going to cut it off. We only made this agreement so you could fend off the other Ravkan nobles while you were king. You’re no longer king, why keep this around any longer? I won’t force you to stay with me if you love someone else.”

Nikolai is deathly silent for a moment, then two. You tense your shoulders, waiting for the blow to land, but it never does. Instead, he walks to your side and takes your hand.

“Do you always have to be such a martyr, sweetheart?”

Your lips part in a silent gasp. “What?”

Nikolai has the nerve to smile as if he hasn’t upset your entire world. “I know you didn’t just marry me for politics. I didn’t ask you just for politics, either. We wanted something. Maybe I still want it.”

He squeezes your hand; you squeeze it back, two beats of a heart. “You could marry Zoya, though. If you still wanted the crown.”

Nikolai laughs. “I don’t want the crown, and although I am certainly grateful to Zoya, I don’t want to marry her, either. No, Y/N, I want you. I want to wander through Ravka without having to worry about all the responsibilities of my office. I want to rent a rusted schooner and show you the sea. I want to get us in trouble and out of it again and again. I want to do a thousand things with you that we never could have done as king and queen. I want to die having loved you, and having loved you right.”

You smile, unable to stop for a second. “We can grow old without anyone needing us.”

Nikolai closes his eyes for a moment as if picturing it. “I think I’d like nothing more.”

You stand in a room that is no longer yours, in a palace that no longer calls your name. You think you have never been happier about it. You still have your husband. All else is a mere triviality.

grishaverse tag list: @rogueanschel, @deadreaderssociety, @cameronsails, @mxltifxnd0m, @story-scribbler, @retvenkos, @thatfangirl42, @amortensie, @gods-fools-heroes, @bl606dy, @auggiesolovey

[sophierequests]

Could I please request a Toyla x reader..? (Bless you for writing for everyone I can’t find any for him 😭) they’re crushing on each other and them having to share a bed 🥺

you are foolish to want

Navigation┃Main Masterlist┃Request

Pairing: Tolya Yul-Bataar x gn!Reader

A/N: After reading this you might ask me: Sophie, will you ever write anything else than Hurt/Comfort when you get requests that aren't in any explicit genre? The answer to that question is: no <3 Also, the second time of using horses in a Tolya fanfic?? What has overcome me?? Thank you for the request! I hope you'll like this, even though the one bed trope isn't the main focus of this story </3

Summary: Tolya and the reader are on their way to the Lazlayon until unforeseen circumstances put a slight dent in their plans.

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Fluff (if you squint)

Word Count: 5.8K (oh god)

Warnings: Mention of almost dying, broken ribs and hurt feelings

The silence between you became louder the longer you indulged in it. It wasn’t really silence, so to say. It was more the state of not speaking. The forest surrounding you was anything but silent. Between the creaking of old rotting larch trees swaying in the wind and the padding of hooves against the more or less solid ground, nothing ever really felt quiet. 

He couldn’t be sure how much longer the path ahead of you could possibly still drag on; all he knew was that he likely wouldn’t be able to stay awake for the entirety of it. The tension of riding next to you alone would have usually been enough to keep him from falling asleep. Hell, the thought of you alone did the job well enough already. Yet something about this time felt different. 

It was just the two of you. No Tamar. No Nikolai. No Zoya. No one else to worry or think about. Just the two of you, wordlessly riding next to each other. 

And while his brain screamed at him to use that factor in his favour, to finally make some sort of move, his body recoiled at the impulse of opening his mouth and articulating his feelings. Whenever he even attempted to do so, an obstruction seemed to form inside his larynx, blocking the feeble sounds that might’ve crossed the breach of his vocal folds. Maybe it was his heart leaping out of his chest and ending up in the enclosure of his throat, desperate to be spat out and stowed away inside a neat little box that he could disregard as long as he pleased. Maybe it was bile at the thought of having to come clean about the months and months of yearning he had been subjected to since meeting you. Maybe both of these options rang true; he couldn’t be sure. The sole thing he was painfully sure of was that it had to be closely related to you. 

Everything was somehow related to you. You had always been everywhere and nowhere; everything and nothing at the same time. At least to him, he hoped. You occupied his mind, his space, and his time whenever he should be focused on anything else. When he wanted, no, needed to focus on anything else. You were everywhere just as much as you were nowhere. Nowhere he could reach. Touch. Hold. You had always been more of an idealistic daydream, rather than something concrete. And just like most dreams, you would be foolish to pursue.

“Do you think we’ll reach the Lazlayon before the night sets in?” Your voice broke through the air like a gunshot, forcing his gaze away from the impenetrable barrier of trees next to him. You stared at him expectantly, waiting until he could will himself to produce a coherent sentence.

He let out a huffed breath, absent-mindedly fiddling with the reins in his hands as if they were a set of tarot cards that would permit him to look into the future. “If we keep up this pace, we’ll likely get there right before sundown.”

“Oh, lovely. Just in time for Count Kirigin to welcome us. I’m sure he’s already buzzing with excitement,” you chuckled dryly, giving your companion a distinctive eye roll to accentuate your annoyance. 

Tolya rolled his shoulders, the mention of the count’s name sending a wave of unease through him. He didn’t necessarily hold any tangible grudges against him, he didn’t know him well enough to form any sort of well-shaped opinion of him to begin with, but what he knew was that the man was an absolute rake. If the countless times of resolute flirting with anyone that didn’t leave his presence on the count of three wasn’t enough to support this hypothesis, Nikolai’s long-winded tales of his drinking and lavished parties sure filled the gaps. Count Kirigin as a whole simply wasn’t a coeval he wanted to be around. Not when he was busy enough with keeping his emotions in check while you were close to him. 

“There’s still hope that he chose to go to bed instead of waiting by the door for us to arrive. I doubt that he’s all too invested in our presence. After all, Zoya isn’t accompanying us, so he won’t have much to ogle at,” the Heartrender objected slyly, using the scarce situation of being alone with you to voice his obvious disdain for the man in question.

“We can only hope.” You clasped your hands together, holding them in front of your chest as if you were in prayer. “At least we’ll share the same fate if it comes down to him having genuinely waited on us.” 

He nodded in agreement. It was a comforting thought to know that he was there with you. The fact that you were meant to take on the journey to the Lazlayon on your own at first disconcerted him greatly. Not that he wouldn’t have trusted you to come back in one piece, however, having you be out of his sight for so long without a possibility of contacting you made him uncomfortably aware of the actual extent of his feelings.

Another wave of silence settled around you. It was more comfortable this time. Especially since it didn’t take too long for you to speak up again. “I’m glad Nikolai decided to have you come along.”

His smile falters for just a split second, the wave of emotion your simple statement had created stripping him of the last bit of feigned confidence he had. Perhaps his years of studying and breaking down ancient poetry had gotten the best of him. Convinced him that there was more to the comment than merely you being glad that someone else had to suffer through the hours on hours of travel. But that’s what you would have said, right? You would have said ‘someone’ instead of explicitly mentioning him. During times like these, he genuinely missed Zoya’s bluntness to bring him back down to earth.

“Oh, uhm, it’s good to know that you don’t see my presence as patronising,” he stammers, his voice hitching and cracking as if he was a puberty-stricken young boy again.

You tilted your head and looked at him with narrowed but gentle eyes. The same eyes that always seemed to magically find his own whenever he had stared at you for a bit too long. “Your presence could never be patronising to me. I like being around you.”

In an ideal world, he would have told you that the feeling was mutual. The sentence would have rolled off his tongue equally as casually as it had off yours, and you both could have continued your travels with the knowledge that you appreciated each other’s company. This was not an ideal world though. In fact, he didn’t even give you a verbal response. Instead, he hastily turned his head away from you, futilely trying to cover the gleaming blush that had spread across his cheeks in a matter of seconds.

Once again, the steady whirring and rustling replaced your short-lived stab at a conversation. It took another hour for the unkempt thicket to gradually turn into a widespread field, stretching out in front of you until it was obscured by the dense artificial fog that hid the watercraft testing grounds of the Gilded Bog. It would have been a stunning view if you hadn’t been aware of the massive amount of work that lay behind it.

A sigh of relief escaped your lips when Count Kirigin’s estate came into view. Your whole body ached after riding for hours on end without a break, making you long for a warm bed and a good night’s sleep. It didn’t take long for Mother Fortuna to knock that idea out of your head though.

Just as you had intended to throw some sort of sarcastic comment in your friend’s direction, a sudden sound of a rifle being fired cut through the forest behind you. After that, everything continued to go downhill horribly fast. 

You barely managed to calm down your horse, yanking the reins to the side to let it spur out its fright by trotting in a circle. Tolya, on the other hand, was less lucky. He hadn’t been able to react quick enough, his horse rearing on its hind legs before he was in the right mindset to properly hold onto the straps of his saddle. He was thrown off its back quite roughly, his back hitting the hard ground with a bone-chilling thud.

“Tolya!” you called, dismounting your horse without thinking about the looming threat of someone directing their gunshots at you. It was as if you were passing through a tunnel, eyes only focused on what was in front of you.

A litany of his name spilt out of your mouth as you knelt down next to him; you repeated it so many times that it didn’t even feel like a real word anymore. But no amount of repetition could bring him to regain consciousness. He remained laying on the ground, perfectly still and with no reaction to anything you did. Years and years of basic medical training flickered through your mind, hopelessly trying to give you an impulse that might be able to save his life. Your hands promptly moved to the pronounced column of his throat, a motion that would have been intimate if you weren’t filled with panic. The skin underneath your fingers was warm - and unexpectedly soft - as you dug for any form of heartbeat. When you finally localised a faint but rhythmic thudding, you sucked in a deep breath, momentarily considering changing your stance on the Saints if they had been the ones to grant you this minuscule act of reassurance.

“Tolya,” you tried again, hands cradling the sides of his face as you shifted him onto your lap. His eyelids fluttered open briefly, immediately seeking out contact with yours. It took another moment for him to recognise what position he was currently in. Your hands on his face and his head on your lap felt almost too good of a situation to be anything but a dream. 

He wanted to say something, anything for that matter, but a piercing pain in his chest caused him to let out a stifled groan. It hurt to move. It hurt to speak. It hurt to breathe. His whole body felt like it had been pulled apart and reassembled without a manual, and you couldn’t do anything to ease his discomfort.

“Hey.” You let your thumbs smooth over the ridges of his cheekbones, your feather-light touch creating an embarrassingly visible trail of goosebumps all over his arms. Everything you did was too soft. Too delicate. Too wholly overwhelming. “I know it hurts. Just stay here for a while and-”

“Saints!” A shrill voice made your head shoot up, the memory of the gunshot striking you like a brick. When a familiar figure scrambled out of the woods, an extravagant hunting rifle strung over his back and a mortified look on his face, you began to piece together what was going on. “I’m terribly sorry! I- We were just coming back from our hunting trip and we didn’t- Oh, no.” The count ran a shaky hand through his neatly slicked-back hair, causing a few stiff strands to fall onto his forehead.

Something inside you wanted to be mad at him. It was his fault after all. If he had been more careful and a little less trigger-happy none of this would have happened. However, Tolya’s weight still very much present on your legs substituted your anger with worry. “Kirigin, I’ll need some help getting him to the Lazlayon. He needs to be looked at by someone more…medically-inclined than me.”

Emil nodded his head reverently, calling over a few of the other men that had joined him in his hunting party. With their help, you heaved him back to his feet. His nails dug into your shoulder as you helped him walk to your horse; neither of you trusted his horse enough to not throw him off again. It was quite the struggle, but after a lot of cursing and griping coming from the normally very composed Heartrender, you reached the opulent mansion just before the sun had vanished behind the mountain range completely.

Upon entering, the count immediately called for a medik, showing the two of you to his drawing room while he flittered through the foyer in a frenzy. Tolya let himself fall onto one of the plush divans with a groan. His hand flew to his side as soon as his back met the fabric underneath him, flinching as he seemed to have pressed down too hard. It was a strange picture to see him look this helpless. He appeared small and vulnerable, almost as if a bare touch could cause him to break and crumble.

“Don’t move,” you requested gently, one of your hands reaching out to take hold of his. He was aware that this gesture was merely meant to give him a piece of reassurance; you wanted to give him something to hold on to, something to get his mind off of the erupting pain in his chest. Still, a nimble twinge of hope sent a burning wave of longing through his body. “I think you may have broken a rib. After your fall earlier that would be one of the lesser evils,” you assessed, letting the fingers of your free hand brush over the clothed expanse of his chest. “We should probably pass a message to Nikolai. You can’t be expected to take on the ride back anytime soon. But all of that can wait until tomorrow.”

The medik arrived just as you closed your mouth, forbidding Tolya from saying anything in response to your short-lived ramblings. He was a bit miffed by the fact that the person treating him was a simple medik instead of an actual Healer that could have fixed him up in the blink of an eye. However, a faint memory of Kuwei accidentally setting a whole section of the laboratory on fire told him that their presence was a bit more required downstairs. 

He was ripped from his thoughts when the medik pushed down on his ribcage with unexpected force. A jolt of pain flashed through him again, and embarrassingly enough, that only caused his grip on your hand to tighten. You didn’t show any sign of discomfort as he did so, entirely concentrated on providing the tiniest bit of comfort you could offer him.

“Fractured rib,” the woman beside you muttered, her brows furrowed as she looked at his exposed chest stomach. “This will take a few weeks to heal on its own. We can send for a Healer as soon as one’s available, but that will probably take just as long. The new project is keeping everyone busy, I’m afraid.”

“I will send a letter to the King,” the Count interjected, rubbing his palms together in an attempt to cope with his nervousness. “The Healers at the Grand Palace are often more willing to make the trip than the ones we have on our hands here. I’m certain he would do everything in his power to ensure that one of his most trusted…guards is back in his service as soon as possible.”

“I suppose that would be for the better.” The medik took out a few differently coloured vials from the pouch on her hip, handing them to you as if the person needing them wasn’t also in the room with you. “These are painkillers. Make sure he takes one of these twice a day.” You nodded along slowly, letting go of Tolya’s hand to not drop any of the flimsy flasks. “It would be best if someone keeps an eye on him for now. Especially after taking the medicine. In case the pain gets worse, you know where to find me.” She directed her gaze at Emil who merely dismissed her with a grateful wave of his hand.

“Thank you for…taking the initiative.” You gave him a brief smile, sitting on the armrest of the sofa where Tolya was still laying. Slowly but surely, the heaviness of the day began seeping through your bones.

“But of course! That’s the least I could do after causing such a mishap.” He pursed his lips but opted to force them into a straight line while he pondered his next words. “I shall send for a servant to mind you during the night if that’s alright with you. Someone should probably be there to attend to you, just in case something happens.” 

Tolya looked up at him, evidently not too fond of his suggestion. The idea of having some stranger even do as much as stay in the same room as he slept didn’t sit right with him at all. “I…appreciate your kindness, Count Kirigin. However, I would prefer it if you refrained from doing anything like that. I’m certain it will be fine if I’m left unsupervised for the night.”

“The count has a point,” you reasoned, a distinct expression of worry present on your face. “You’re hurt; don’t be so blasé about it. It would genuinely be better if someone is there for you. At least for tonight.”

“Maybe you could stay with him for the night if it’s the aspect of familiarity he’s concerned with?” Emil offered, his eyes darting between the two of you nervously. If his upper body had allowed it, Tolya would have shot upright in his seat after hearing that. As much as he hated the notion of having someone else practically babysit him while he was asleep, anyone else would be a better option than you. He wouldn’t survive spending a night under these circumstances.

His suggestion caught you off guard with what felt like brute force. He was a good friend; one of your closest actually. Yet you had never even seen the inside of his bedroom. Spending the night in the same room, no matter under what circumstances, seemed like a terrible way to improve that friendship.

“I… Tolya? Your call.” You shifted all the responsibility of decision-making onto the Heartrender, giving him an apologetic look while he struggled to find the right words.

He mentally considered all the implications this action might entail. What if he snored? What if he talked in his sleep? What if the medicine made him do or say things he might regret? What if nothing out of the ordinary happens and he was just diving into the worst-case scenarios? “If I have to choose, I’d prefer your presence,” he mumbled, instantly clamping his eyes shut in order to avoid looking at your face while you let his words sink in. 

“It’s decided then,” you chirped, slumping off your seat to carefully place the ampoules in your bag. You sounded pretty much unbothered by the prospect of sharing a room for the night. Weren’t you even a little bit uncomfortable with that?  He should be glad that you were taking this situation so well, however, your unexpected nonchalance concerning the topic made every last speck of hope that you could possibly like him back dwindle down to nothing.

“Very well!” Kirigin clasped his hands together with a resounding clap, the jovial nature returning to his face in an instant. “Now, if you’d be so inclined - and able -, please follow me upstairs to the guest bedrooms.”

The guest bedrooms of the count’s estate reminded you of the countless ornate rooms you had seen at the Grand Palace; broad wide rooms with high ceilings and long windows that made them appear more like a makeshift dining hall than an actual bedchamber. Needless to say, the Lazlayon was a bit more bucolic than what you were used to seeing in the capital, but the white walls and the rococo king-size bed definitely opposed every notion of humility one might expect if there was no prior knowledge of Kirigin’s spendthrift way of living.

Neither of you really had enough willpower to change into your nightclothes, so you merely rid yourself of the thick jackets and clunky boots, which you mindlessly tossed on top of your bags. The bedding would be changed in the morning anyway.

It was a terribly awkward scene, the tension practically electrifying the air around you. Tolya sat on the bed, his back perched on the carved headboard while he watched you scurry around the room like a rabbit in front of a rifle. You also seemed to have realised what the offer of staying in the same room for the night might imply; your previous casualness being gone completely.

“Here,” you said, handing him one of the vials the medik had given you earlier. He took the medicine from your hands, eying it with a suspicious expression. In comparison to his hand, the tiny bottle looked like a prop right out of a doll house. The image of comparing your hand to his popped into your mind, but you hastily shooed it away, thinking about how inappropriate that thought was. “Drink. I’ll get you some water to help with the taste in case you need it.” 

Quickly, he downed the viscous medicine, cringing at the sickly-sweet flavour that spread inside his mouth as he swallowed. As soon as the liquid went down his throat, he had to stifle a cough, the taste only getting worse the longer he occupied his mind with it.

You plopped down on the empty spot next to him, cautious to not spill any of the water that you held out for him. When he reached out to take the glass, your hands touched his for a split second, your fingertips barely brushing over his. Still, that simple gesture was enough to make his head spin. Saints, he hated that you had that effect on him.

“Thank you,” he breathed out, not quite knowing what exactly he thanked you for. Thank you for being there for me when I fell off that damned horse? Thank you for holding my hand earlier? Thank you for staying with me tonight? Thank you for getting me that glass of water? He could probably think about at least a hundred things to thank you for off the top of his head.

“How are you feeling?” Your voice sounded just as sweet as the medicine tasted, he thought. He just liked listening to your voice a whole lot better. Were the painkillers already kicking in?

“Better. Sore, but better. I’m dreading thinking about what Nikolai will say once he gets wind of this.” He let his head slump against the wall behind him, his eyes glancing at you furtively as you scanned his body for any sort of unease or pain he might still feel.

“Forget Nikolai. He can survive without you for a bit longer. And Tamar is still there to save his ass when it comes down to it.” You gave him a quick smile, taking his hand to give it a reassuring squeeze before leaving his side again. “The only thing that matters now is that you’re getting better. No matter whether that happens naturally or with the help of a Healer."

“I’d prefer it happening through the help of a Healer,” he muttered under his breath, scowling at the idea of having to spend another six weeks alone in the confines of a bed without being able to follow his usual duties.

“Well, an actual break would do you some good every once in a while. After everything that Nikolai put you through during the last few years, you should be eligible to take off at least a few months without him being allowed to say anything against it.”

“So eager to get rid of me now?”

A sharp snort escaped your mouth as you looked at him, the feigned pout on his lips making him look like a kicked puppy. Sometimes you had the suspicion that Nikolai’s inherent obnoxiousness was rubbing off on him.

“Believe it or not, I still like being around you. Even though you now gave me the added stress factor of having to keep a close eye on you when we’re around horses.” You walked over to one of the cushioned armchairs that decorated the corner of the room, leaning against it without actually sitting in it. “And If I really would be so eager to get rid of you I wouldn’t have agreed to play your nursemaid for the night. Especially not if I had known that I’d have to sleep in one of these forsaken chairs. Kirigin could have at least given us a double room.”

Tolya’s previously playful expression dropped. He had been so hung up on the fact that you’d be with him for the entire night that he had completely neglected to think about the logistics of his request. Had he known that you’d end up sleeping in a chair rather than a bed, he would have answered differently. 

An unwelcome thought clawed its way into his mind; he wanted to strangle it before it could properly manifest. Had he been Nikolai or Tamar he would have immediately sprung into action, offering you his bed, and probably also his heart while he was at it. But he wasn’t like either of them. He wasn’t brash, or romantic, or even socially intelligent. These attributes would be foreign on him, like a coat that was just a bit too big to fit correctly - contorting his actual silhouette to make him look like something he wasn’t.

“Are you okay?” you asked, a worried undertone present as you spoke. He quickly closed his mouth, straightening out his features to appear more collected than he felt before fixing his gaze on you again. You didn’t only sound worried, you also looked the part; eyebrows tightly knitted together while a distinct flash of concern gloomed in your eyes. “Are you still in pain? Should I get-”

“No, it’s- I’m fine, Y/N. I was just thinking…” 

“Care to share with the class?”

Even though everything inside him rebelled against opening his mouth and speaking his mind, his heart moved quicker than his mind could process. “Sleeping in an armchair can’t be comfortable. We could share the bed,” he trailed off, watching as you gawked at him like a fish on land. “If you want to, that is.” He felt the need to add that, even if it was only enough to calm his raging nerves.

“Tolya, you’re hurt. You need the rest more than I do. I can’t possibly do that in good conscience.” The room was filled to the brim with the nervousness exuding off of the two of you. It was almost sad to watch you two stumble over your own words, acting as if you were two little schoolchildren that both had a crush on the other.

Seemingly taking your refusal as a challenge, he awkwardly shuffled towards the edge of the bed, leaving the other side very clearly unoccupied. “Would that be enough space for you?” Your eyes darted from the comfortable-looking bed to the stiff armchair you had originally intended to sleep in. Much to your dismay, the bed did look more inviting than the chair could ever be.

“I really don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” was everything you could muster up to talk yourself out of it. A futile attempt at not giving in to the want clouding your coherent thoughts ever since being in the same room as Tolya.

“You wouldn’t.” You couldn’t. “Trust me, I don’t mind. I couldn’t let you sleep in a bloody chair with a good conscience either.” As if to underline his statement, he patted the empty space next to him.

With an exasperated sigh, you shook off the roots that had metaphorically formed around your ankles and moved to the offered side of the bed. You felt terribly awkward as you slid into bed right next to him. You two had never been this close. Not in this context.

“Thank you,” you whispered, laying flat on your back with your hands folded over your stomach. He mirrored your movement soon after, albeit a bit slower.

He wanted to say something - anything - to relieve some of the tension buzzing between you. But everything he could have said wouldn’t have improved the situation in the slightest. Just like a few hours ago in the woods, the silence was anything but silent.

“You really scared me earlier, do you know that?” you mumbled, breaking through the uncomfortable silence. Again, he thought. “This could have ended with way worse consequences than a fractured rib.”

“I know.” The words were heavy on his tongue, suffocating him. Up until the possibility that worse things could have happened had sounded like an impossible what-if situation to him. But judging by the honest fear in your voice, he really could have suffered a fate way worse than being forced to rest for an uncertain amount of time. The only feeling he could recall after his fall was the dizziness of laying on top of your lap and the intoxicating touch of your hands on his cheeks. He didn’t even think that he genuinely registered the pain in his chest until he felt the impulse to move. “Thankfully, we didn’t have to find out exactly how badly this could have ended.”

“Good. I honestly wouldn’t have known what to do if you hadn’t woken up. What I would do without you.” The last sentence was so unexpected that it almost knocked the air out of his lungs. You had your way of catching him off-guard with your words that was so brutal, but equally as stunning.

“You won’t have to that out either. Not if I can help it.” He wanted to tell you. He wanted to tell you so badly that breathing normally became more and more difficult. But he couldn’t. Not right now. And maybe not ever.

Silence fell over you again. It was such a stark contrast to the chaos raging inside his head that he barely noticed when you turned to lay on your side, facing him. He forced his eyes to close in hopes of at least getting a few full hours of sleep before he was pushed back into a world where it wasn’t normal for you to sleep next to him.

“Tolya?” you whispered, resisting the urge to nudge him. 

“Mhm?” he murmured, eyes still clamped shut.

He heard you shuffling next to him, probably to put a bit of distance between you and him. “I have to tell you something.” You shuffled again, the mattress giving in ever so slightly when you did. You were sitting up now. “This might be a terrible time to do so, but I have to get it off my chest.” That caught his attention enough to look at you again. You sounded so serious.

“Uhm, sure, go for it.” To say that he was concerned would have been an understatement. His whole body tensed, much to the dismay of his fractured ribcage.

“I don’t recall the last time when I was genuinely so afraid of someone I care about not being alright, but what I felt when you didn’t wake up at first was way worse than just being scared. I'm not sure how to tell you this, and I’ve been putting this off for quite some time now. But I don’t just care about you like how I care about the others. I think I'm in love with you." The last words tumbled from your lips in a hurry, so quickly that he almost didn’t comprehend what you were saying. He could have sworn that this was a fever dream. Maybe the medicine had kicked in way stronger than he expected it to. Maybe he was genuinely going mad. Whatever it was, it didn’t feel real.

You realised how badly timed this confession was as soon as you saw the completely befuddled expression that was plastered all over his face. Suddenly, sleeping on the armchair looked way more appealing than the shared bed. You felt like you were trapped in a mass of writhing quicksand, slowly but surely devouring you until there was nothing left to take. This was way more embarrassing than you had imagined.

“I, uhm, this was a mistake.” You felt your cheeks heat up, burning you until you couldn’t take it anymore. You needed to get out of this bed. Preferably also this room. “It would be best if I leave, I’m so sorry. I’ll go downstairs to call fo-” 

Tolya seized your wrist just as you wanted to throw the covers off of you. The rash movement caused him to wince slightly, but he didn’t let go of you. A thousand questions forced their way into his mind, and he could answer none of them. 

“Wait.” He didn’t know what else to say. But he knew that you needed to stay. “Are…are you being sincere?”

“What? Of course? Do you genuinely think I would make a joke out of something like that? Especially in our…current situation?” you questioned, absolutely bewildered that he thought you were joking around.

At this point, his face was beet red. He couldn’t tell where his embarrassment came from. Whether it was the fact that he had been tiptoeing around his feelings for months by now while you felt the same or the fact that he had the genuine audacity to ask you if you were kidding.

“Tolya, I can understand that this makes you uncom-”

“No, no, don’t!” His grip on your wrist tightened as you tried to wriggle yourself out of his grasp. That was his cue to say something. Anything if it made you stay.

“What do you mean?”

“I love you too,” he blurted, maybe a bit too quickly. But the fear of having to watch you leave made his heart act before his brain could.

“You do?”

“Do you genuinely think I would make a joke out of something like that?” He gave you a sheepish smile, his eyes gleaming with adoration. Saints, he really was in love. “I never said anything because I didn’t think you’d feel the same.”

He had intended to let go of your hand, giving you a moment to process what he had just said. You didn’t let him pull away though. Instead, you took his hand in your own, tightly squeezing it before allowing your lips to curl up into a wide smile.

“Sounds like we’re both idiots then.”

“At least we’re idiots in love.”

“But idiots nonetheless," you laughed, your heart thudding even louder when you heard Tolya join you.

Taglist:

Grishaverse fics in general: @yesshewrites1 @dal-light @treasureofmy-heart

Tolya Yul-Bataar: @juneberrie @horny4knives

[ignitesthestxrs]

Do you mind sharing what stuff added later by the author did you hate?

oh sure LOL like i have written before on the magical yellowface and how poorly the worldbuilding failed with shu han before and i think that is one of the most Egregious issues. kuwei like,,,does not even get to be a character, he's just a prop for this mlm romance that he is never given a reason to actually be involved in, and he is not allowed to become a part of the crew like the rest of the characters. he's just kind of the sentient plot point they carry around until the time comes to literally sell him to the highest bidder lmfaaaao

uuuh i do not like the depiction of parem as an addictive substance, i realise this is quibbling and it's magic etc etc, but i think that if you're going to use 'extremely addictive drug' as a metaphor in your magic world, you should put more effort into the way your characters interact with that drug and addiction. like the idea of 'drug that you take once and either it kills you or you're ruined for life' is silly and also not very emotionally evocative. also 'extremely addictive drug developed by the science monsters in the East that then becomes a significant factor in impending war' sure is a nasty trope to engage in without really subverting or interrogating it.

re: the darkling i just have narrative issues with that, i think that bringing him back is a dumb decision. it undercuts the narrative choices made in the original trilogy, and results in alina as a protagonist being relegated to kind of second tier status. like the darkling coming back in a story that does not have anything to do with alina is essentially a narrative claim that the darkling is more significant than alina, in a series that was originally about alina.

it's also just the way he's bought back that is so, so silly. it's so silly. why is this bee lady here. what is she doing. like again, the narrative fulcrum of the first trilogy is this relationship between alina and the darklig and this significant connection, and now this bee lady who we've never met before is bringing the darkling back to life? why do i care about her? why does she care about the darkling??? is the villain of this book really 'crazy lady who is obsessed with the darkling and bringing him back to life'? it is a narrative decision that somehow manages to pander to a particular subset of eager darkling fans, while also parodying them.

i think ultimately as someone who spent a lot of my fandom time and effort like exploring the narrative impetus for killing this character and why it worked as a satisfying conclusion to the trilogy, it's not that i would have not wanted him to come back ever for any reason at all, but rather that aws a reader i needed a really good reason for it? and i think the seeds of that really good reason were there in nikolai LOL like we didn't need a whole lot of New Worldbuilding Lore That We've Never Seen Before And Also This Bee Lady. nikolai with his own internal monster darkling seeds was right there, and in a book that was supposed to be about nikolai trying to be king, the focal point should have been...you know, that. if the darkling was going to come back, it should have been because of what actions nikolai (the protagonist!!! the titular king of scars!!) was taking in his efforts to rule while containing and/or using his monstrous self.

also the zoya dragon thing was dumb. it was just dumb and i didn't like it. i didn't like the defanging of zoya's character in general - the backfilling of her history to explain how she got her amplifier because of trying and failing to save an animal rather than just straight up murdering it is Weak. zoya was a cunt when we first met her! she was ruthless and power hungry and she wanted to impress the darkling! you undercut the character growth she had in turning against him when you fill in her history to make her Secretly Compassionate From The Start. she broke alina's bones because she was jealous of her, let her kill a fucking tiger for power and then realise what the desire for power does to a person over the course of her character arc.

in general so many of the choices the author made as the series got more and more popular felt like she was retroactively changing things based on various discourses that had cropped up over the years and felt more grounded in a conversation with the fandom than in a conversation with the books she had already written. it was a sad, slow process of falling out of love with these books for me sdhgkdsfg obviously i still have a lot of residual feeling and knowledge and opinions about them, but that is kind of the heartbreak of growing out of caring about something. you're left with all this Stuff and nowhere to put it.

[unabashedmoonlight]

I think a lot about Alina wanting to let the Darkling be tortured for an eternity. At the end of the trilogy, when she cried for him, it was because of, as Leigh said, her ability to even see her enemies as human.

I don't doubt that the tether, the shared loneliness, the confusion he created in her mind via the manipulation and the abuse (even though she mostly conquered it by then), their unique powers, bond and him basically being the one to encourage her to bring out her powers were all factors in that too.

Then in ROW, initially she cried and somewhere still wanted to believe that he did all of this for Ravka and wanted to coax it out of him that he regrets some of his actions. When he very clearly said no, she was disappointed, disgusted.

Was that the final straw? Or would she not have cared even if he had said yes? Did she not care because he made that decision for himself so he can deal with it on his own? Or would she still not have cared if it had been forced upon him? He had done enough things to deserve a rather harsh punishment after all and even if eternity is too extreme, he chose it for himself. Was this enough for her or did she still inwardly feel a bit of pity? Would she, like Zoya, be more desperate to save him had she tasted what his punishment felt like? Did she simply not comprehend what eternity would mean and at the back of her mind thought he would get out of there eventually anyway even without their efforts?

She was also the one to pose the question that defined his ROW arc. AND said, "It's not too late for you." Did she believe he had the potential to be better still even if he was choosing not to?

[mad-who-ra]

WHY DID NO ONE TELL ME HE LOOKS SO CUTE IN THIS MOVIE??

[sampigehoovu]

I was hunting for a cute DQ movie to watch and ended up at Zoya Factor, which annoyed me to no end because that is not how I remember Zoya from the book at all.

Obviously, I wanted to re-read the book. Unfortunately, I have given my copy to a sports journalist I went on 4 dates with. Had to make do with the audio book, which btw is very well done with the proper delhi accents and all.

Turns out, there are moments in the book where Zoya does get on my nerves. I totally get the heady attention she was soaking in, I totally get the insecurity after NZ first kiss, I get it all. What I do not get is WHY DOES SHE NOT COMMUNICATE WITH (or, confront) KHODA WHEN THAT MAN IS LITERALLY ASKING HER WHAT IS WRONG. every. single. time.

The stakes were so high! This is my issue with Anuja Chauhan's heroines (along with the aura of classism that pervades all her books), they're smart af but it takes them so long untangle themselves from their own insecurities, which is also entirely okay cause we all do it everyday but its soo scary when all of this has to happen at the exact moment a mob of devotees are attacking her make-up van to get her blessings. Fully sympatised with Zoya's dad at this point, he was so right.

Nikhil was fairly open about his intentions all through - getting her the bracelet, being nice to her family, putting her picture as his screensaver, telling her not to take up the stupid ad endorsements, sexting at the breakfast table, the whole "curls on my pillow, sunlight streaming in" business which frankly had me weak in the knees. Though, I suppose he'd have been more patient and kind had it not been the literally world cup and his entire career on the line. Phew, what a well written rom-com hero, don't think I'm ever getting over my crush on that (very fictional) man. Between him and Dylan, I don't think I can ever hope to be realistic about romance.

(more as it marinates in my brain, again)

(read the book, the movie is just sad)

[tirkdi]

Are you that opposed to Zoyander?

lol, I am. I don't think it fits in the original trilogy at all, and I really dislike what they did with it in the show.

In the trilogy, the relationship between Zoya and the Darkling is almost completely one-sided. While Zoya fawns over him and then flips a switch to wanting to kill him, it's not even clear to me that he thinks about Zoya beyond the fact that she's a powerful Grisha. And even then, using trilogy-only canon, there's no reason to think that Zoya is uniquely powerful — I would guess he's seen dozens of Grisha just as, if not more, powerful than she is.

And if he did hook up with Zoya, what would he be getting out of it? He doesn't date — can you imagine — and there is literally not a casual bone in his body so they're not just like occasionally banging and cool about everything else the rest of the time. And the headache of running your military while having affairs with your closest Grisha? Absolute chaos, he does not need the extra paperwork that would undoubtedly create.

I do think he is secretive enough about his personal stance on not banging his Grisha that it's something Zoya and others hope may happen (and Zoya by the time of the trilogy would one million percent have slept with him if he'd offered). Keeping that hope alive without ever acting on it is deliberate on his part, makes them easier to control.

And while the Darkling is never casual, the first thing we see about Zoya in the books and the show is her casually having/trying to have sex with Mal — sex is something that's casual for her, to the extent that in the show she even casually bangs other people while she casually bangs her general. While it doesn't make sense with the Darkling's characterization imo, it does a true disservice to Zoya: the motivating factors for her are no longer power and love for her aunt, there's now also a jealous ex-lover situation going on. I don't love that for her and I think it sells her really short.

All that said, if RoW had gone differently, I do think we could have seen some Zoya/Darkling action. Once she's a dragon, getting her on his side by whatever means necessary is clearly in his interest, and with Juris in her head I think she might see a part of the Darkling that she never had before. There was potential for them, for a minute, there.

And, finally, there is one fantastic fic that made me stop grumbling internally about Zoya & Aleks banging in the show for a bit, which is Let Yourself Relax by goatsandgangsters. If we have to keep the show canon for them, that is 1000% the backstory I'm going with.

[lifewouldbebetteronmars]

NEW WIP??????

RILEY TELL ME EVERYTHING

Okay so I don’t know if you saw this ask that I sent to CK, but it’s basically the backstory and I suggest reading it before this

Because all of my WIPs are basically the same characters and stories that are recycled and evolved over time, I consider this WIP to be the Bix and Trix WIP, just elevated

The main characters are; Cleo Brisbane, Rose Tully, Casper Brisbane, & Zoya Amobi-Chapman/Zoya Saltykova

The four of them are the children of some of the most powerful members of a prominent magical cult that has since been disbanded. After the forcible disbandment and arrests of members of the cult, the children (only 10 & younger at the time) were sent to a magical detention center where they were subjected to interrogations and lots of group therapy (really more like a group interrogation). This lasted four years before they were sent to live on house arrest, in separate locations, for the last two years before being reunited

Now that they’re reunited, they’re planning a way to carry out the last plan Roland Brisbane planned before his death, as they feel it will honor him and possibly bring the hiding remaining members of the cult back out into the world

Cleo & Casper Brisbane are the twin children of Roland Brisbane, his only two surviving children. They’re half-selkie, though no one (even themselves) knows that and that factor affects everything to do with their powers

Like for example, Cleo is a powerful psychic who is haunted by dreams of water and death. She doesn’t trust her own mind most of the time, and can’t always tell if she’s looking at the present or the future

While Caz, he controls the air, he can manipulate it to his will if he wants to; but he usually doesn’t. He prefers not to manipulate the air, preferring to focus on his botany knowledge and potions work instead. He is the “healer” of the group after all

Rose Tully is the daughter of Claire Tully, the current de-facto leader of the cult following Roland’s death. She is probably my favorite to write, probably because I relate to her the most tbh

Her main trauma is that when she was a little girl, her mother told her “No one will love you if you aren’t perfect” and Rose took those words to heart, they still effect her everyday actions

She has the ability of levitation, both herself and objects she’s touching; if she isn’t touching it, it won’t float. She isn’t considered particularly powerful despite how hard she works at growing her power. Rose can levitate up to one other person, but she has to be touching them, just like any other object; though she can’t float them as far as something lighter

Zoya Amobi-Chapman (aka Zoya Saltykova) is the daughter of Ivan Saltykov, an inner circle member of the cult, who is also deceased. She is the only one of the core four who wasn’t raised in the cult from birth, as she was brought into it at the age of 4/5 when her father kidnapped her from her mother and stepfather. She doesn’t really remember most of her life prior to the cult. She’s half black and half Russian, though she identifies more with her Russian side due to being primarily raised by her Russian father

Zoya sees herself as two people, Zoya Amobi-Chapman and Zoya Saltykova. Zoya Amobi-Chapman is the fashion-forward daughter of Zara Amobi-Chapman and Michael Chapman, who doesn’t know a word of Russian, of cults, of magic; Zoya Saltykova is Ivan Saltykov’s daughter, through and through, a powerful shapeshifter and polyglot

She’s still learning how to balance the two

She’s a shapeshifter, as mentioned above, and can shift any feature into whatever she wants. She can change into people, animals, etc. Her favorite trick is to turn into an animal to spy on her friends to make sure they’re being safe with their non-magic partners. Zoya learned a trick where she would change her hair into whatever style she wanted in the blink of an eye and it’s a trick she takes advantage of often

Cleo’s love interest is named Max Locksley, a local non-magical boy; though they don’t consider themselves boyfriend and girlfriend for awhile. He’s very much not a believer in anything magical or supernatural, and very easily comes up with excuses as to why Cleo acts odd at times

Casper’s love interest is Max’s best friend, Rhydian Shields. He’s more inclined to believe in the supernatural and is a believer in all things to do with that. However, he knows that he’s most likely wrong and tends to ignore all the signs that Caz had magic

Zoya and Rose are each other’s love interests because I love childhood friends to lovers. And they’re both lesbians, but Rose is out and Zoya is not. Their relationship is complicated, especially since their separation

This is really long, but in my defense, Wagner, you did ask for everything