#tamar my beloved | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wh0refornikolailantsov · 1 year

Note

omg hi could you maybe do a high-school au where you're failing English lit and Tolya is assigned as your tutor and you had no idea he was good at English and just mutual crushing vibes over poetry and maybe he's a jock and you go to his games to cheer him on and yeah...

the song could be Miss Americana & the Heartbreak Prince by Taylor Swift

Okay, look. Normally I don't do AU stuff, because, so many reasons, but I looked at this request and thought about it, and then I thought about it out loud and it sent me and bestie spiralling so fast into a whole Shadow and Bone High School AU concept, that I kind of, have to write this. I kind of have to, but it will have a lot (A LOT) of AU background info so hold on tight buddy. It may get to the point where you're asking yourself "what happened to the original plot of the movie," and to that I say... Idk.

Between Classes And The Bell - Tolya Yul Bataar

Content Warnings: Explicit Language. Spoilers for Seasons 1 & 2 And Potential Book Spoilers Implied Throughout. Not Canon Compliant, As AU But Canon Referenced Throughout. Not Beta/Proof Read.

Word Count: 5k+

"My expectations are low," Kaz says, tapping his cane against the table as he passes Zoya, a gentle taunt. Zoya purses her perfect lips and taps her pencil against the table, refusing to take the bait. "But they can always go lower, of course."

"You really think this is an argument you'll win, Brekker?" Zoya asks, turning in her seat to look at him. He smiles, eyes darting to make sure there is no teachers to oversee the devilish smirk, and clasps his spare hand over the one holding the cane.

"Never been in a fight I couldn't," he says. Zoya looks ready to explode. And you can understand why, Kaz never loses Debate, and she was just beginning to think she had the upper hand on him, but he had only wanted her to think that.

"I don't think we need to take this so seriously," says another classmate, "we aren't being supervised."

"I think taking things more seriously when unsupervised is essential to a thriving environment," Kaz is mocking Zoya and she knows it. She wants to do something, and if she let her heated nature get the better of her, she might. But she just folds her arms, and takes in a deep breath. As Head Girl she has to be composed, and as Captain of the cheer squad she has long learnt composure. When Zoya breathes it is like even the air is competing for her attention, she is that kind of beautiful. You glance at her and she has her eyes closed, calming herself. She shouldn't let Brekker get under her skin so easily, but Zoya takes everything very seriously, whereas Kaz gives the illusion of caring about school, all the teachers think he is a perfect student, and his grades suggest as much, but it is more of a game to Kaz. But that would go unnoticed by most, after all, no body tends to look too closely at a boy with a cane. But you don't doubt he is probably the most threatening of all of you. You'd heard a rumour once that he was running a blackmail scheme and that's why his grades were perfect without trying. But you knew Kaz was smarter than he cared to display, and you didn't want to put too much stock in rumours. School is so full of them after all.

You get up as the class empties, and you try not to pay close attention to the way Kaz hovers in the room, awaiting it's empty, you cannot tell if he is waiting for someone or waiting for the silence.

Zoya is headed for cheer practice and you are quick to step out of her way, it is best not to get under her feet at the best of times, yet again when she is fuelled with rage from an argument and especially when she is running late at the expense of losing said argument.

You step to the side to let most of the crowd pass, but as the corridors empty you feel yourself getting confused about where you were going. You catch a glimpse of your science partners leather messenger bag, and watercolour eyes and you nod to yourself, science, you're sure you've got a science next... but which one? Probably Chemistry, you'll settle for Chemistry.

"You're getting all turned around again," comes a voice from behind you. You turn and the familiar face of Inej Ghafa, is closer than you expected it to be. Inej is one of The Dregs like Kaz, you hated that name, but High School will be as High School will be and names like that sort of stuck. They called them The Dregs because they were scholarship students who couldn't afford to be in the school without the scholarship, 'Dregs Of Society' as a senior had not so politely explained to you one day when you were fresh in and dumb enough to ask. You nearly jump out of your skin, seeing here so close to you, without sensing her at all. She has a tendency to do that, so light on her feet, petite and so quiet. You have often wondered if the ability to walk unheard came first or if it was something she had learned from being a gymnast. If the acrobatics came naturally and the silence was learned, you're not sure which would be more impressive. Inej is simply a marvel, her scholarship is based on her gym skills and you would never doubt why, you've never seen someone able to preform with such confidence and prowess as her. But more than that, it's her heart you've noticed most, so quiet and yet so endlessly kind.

"Am I?" you ask her. She nods.

"You have English," she tells you, pointing towards the arts block.

"I have Chemistry," you say quickly but Inej shakes her head.

"No you had Chemistry last semester in this time slot on a Thursday," she corrects you, "now you have English."

You pause, but you realise she is right. You don't bother questioning how she knows that, one of the things you were quick to learn about Inej was she seemed to know everything about everyone, it came with the quietness you guessed, that she can hear and learn everything about everyone while no one even notices she's there. You wonder if that's what Kaz sees in keeping her so close, but then again based on the way the boy looks at her, you'd guess that was something else.

You turn to thank her but she has already disappeared from sight.

You're not late but you are cutting it close when you make your way to your seat. Nina, who you know relatively well from the short time you spent in the drama department last year, at her own coaxing, throws you a smile. "Pass this back to the pretty one?" she asks, handing you a note.

You glance over your shoulder and you don't need to ask who she means, you should have guessed. Matthias is looking even less eager to be in this class than you feel, but you don't blame him. For an exchange student Matthias doesn't seem to be thrilled to be here at all, most of the time, except when he is with Nina, which he is every moment he has the opportunity to be.

Every time you hear him speak it is to tell Nina that something she is doing is improper, and where he grew up that would've never been allowed, and yet every time you see him he is staring at her with a look in his eyes that could make you believe in love all on its own.

"Please?" Nina asks, fluttering those long beautiful eyelashes at you. You've never seen anyone say no to Nina Zenik, it might not be at all possible.

"Of course Nina," you tell her and hand the note back. Matthias frowns, and you can see the thoughts bubbling to the surface. He mumbles something about etiquette and respect for educators and then recognises Nina's handwriting and stops his grumbling.

"I think I am winning him over yet," she grins before turning back to the front of class. Nina was studying to be a nurse, but after a particularly rough semester switched carer plans and now intends to be a mortician, most of her bubbliness has come back to her, but it's clearest enough when she has the blonde in her eyeline, he truly brings out the best in her.

You find yourself tuning out most of the lesson, which you know you shouldn't, your Literature teacher is old enough that you feel like you should be able to get away with not paying attention, but you know she sees everything, and you're more than a little convinced everyone is afraid of her. So you're knocked sick immediately when Miss Morozova asks you to stay behind as the class is finishing up. You hope for a moment you might have misheard her, but her cold eyes on you is confirmation that you didn't.

She beckons you to the desk with a flick of her wrist and you approach, wondering what misstep you took, but she just slides your previous paper across the wood at you, and you see your mark and goose bumps spread through your skin. Fuck.

"You're going to fail," she tells you. She has never had a knack for encouragement or being gentle with her students.

"That is not what I had hoped," you admit. She laughs, it's a cold type of laugh, all apathy and disappointment.

"Not about hope child, it's about application and effort, I am not sure if you're missing the point or if you are not trying to see the point at all, either way you're not getting where you need to be," she shuffles a few papers, "so I have assigned you a tutor, hopefully that should fix your shortcomings, if not you will fail this class."

"A tutor?" you ask, the cold feeling just continues to spread through your body. Please not Zoya, please not Zoya. You don't doubt she is good at it, you've seen the turn around of Zoya's tutoring, but she intimidates you if you're honest and you don't think that is optimal for your learning. "Who?"

"Tolya Yul Bataar," she says, not bothering to look at you, "I have already informed him, the rest he will sort out, you're dismissed."

"Tolya?" you ask. You hadn't thought about it, you know he is in the advanced class, but you'd never given it much thought. Always seen the jock first, which isn't surprising, his education likes to focus on his sports, they treat his twin sister Tamar the same. Their skills making your school highest in competitive sports, it makes the school want to focus on their athletics. But you're a little annoyed at yourself for not even thinking about it.

You've thought about Tolya more than enough to have justified thinking about his academics. But the slight crush you've had on the athlete who stands taller than you can reason and with arms you're convinced could move mountains, you have had time to think about him.

You had lunch with his sister once, just the once. Tamar is nowhere near as tall as her brother, with short cropped hair which is a contrast to Tolya's own, but her strength is just like his, even for her size she is fierce and unrelenting. She looks like she could fuck you up, and you know she has the power behind her to back that up, and she would, and is willing to if the need arises. Her girlfriend Nadia had also been present at that lunch and you'd wanted to talk more than you had. Tamar was a type of brave you often wanted to be, unapologetic in her braveness, equal parts bark and bite.

You don't try asking anymore questions, you're pretty eager to get out the classroom that you walk straight into the corridor, not thinking to look around you, and are met by a leaning Tolya, who is rested up against the notice board beside the door. If normally he makes your heart skip a few beats, seeing him waiting for you nearly makes your heart stop. You tell yourself that's a fear response, but you know you're lying. "Tolya," you say breathing a little too heavily.

"I didn't take you for the flunking English type," he smiles at you, "but then again how well do you know a person?"

You smile, trying to not blush too deeply and give yourself entirely away. "I didn't know I was flunking," you admit.

"That isn't reassuring," he says, but he isn't criticizing you, you know criticism when you see it.

"It wasn't supposed to be."

"I am sure we can fix it up, I am... fond of prose."

You're supposed to be studying Remains by Simon Armitage, but even in his tutoring state, you can tell Tolya is finding the poem just as painful as you are. You don't want to be difficult, you don't mean to be, you're stressed about the fact you're going to flunk English Lit, and you know Tolya wants to help. But this poem is driving your attention elsewhere, and in an attempt to not stare at the large, pretty, tutor doing his best to go through themes with you, you let your eyes wander around the library.

Jesper Fahey, the lean theatre student with the true talent for dramatics in every aspect of his life, right down to the way he is dressed with bejewelled collar pins and matching cufflinks, is leaning over your chemistry partner, giving him that smile you recognise. Jesper has always been a flirt, and he never misses the mark, you've seen him flirt with nearly everyone around, but he only ever gives Wylan those eyes. You'd seen it first the day Wylan has suggested pyrotechnics for one of their next play, the same day Jesper tried to pitch Rocky Horror, they were a strange match, but perfectly matched in their strangeness. You especially liked Wylan, as your partner in the sciences you spent enough time with him to know that he is so smart, the kind of smart that makes your head spin, he could be a scholarship student, but he actually is a Legacy, not that you'd know it by looking at him, or talking to him. He doesn't really talk about his family, and you never pushed, knowing he runs the tech for the drama kids and can make homemade fireworks is a decent amount of know about a person.

"Am I boring you?" Tolya asks, his voice soft.

"No," you chuckle, "but I won't lie Simon Armitage is, maybe to death."

Tolya offers you a chuckle in response. "In honesty, I would like to say there is credit in all poetry, and I think there is, something for everyone, but I am inclined to agree this is no Keats," Tolya concedes.

"Or Wordsworth, or even Larkin," you add. He smiles.

"So you do like poetry?" he asks. You frown.

"Did I leave you with the impression I didn't?" you ask. He tilts his head, and he looks so unreasonably large in that blue library seat that you bite your tongue to not giggle at it.

"I had to read your previous paper to prep," he says, "you made it sound like poetry was the lowest form of art."

"I didn't mean for it to sound like that, maybe that poem," you joke, "but not all poetry."

"So, what poems do you like?" he asks, closing the book.

"What poems do you like, I didn't take you for the type," you give that preconception willingly, hoping to dismiss it quickly, and get his true interests locked into memory in a hope to know him better.

"All muscle and no appreciation for art?" he asks. You shrug.

"I never thought you were only muscle," you say, "you've got height too."

He laughs a little too loud for the library but you're too busy smiling to care. "I like classic poetry, epic prose," he admits.

"Iliad?" you ask. He grins.

"Yeah, Homer is up there," he nods, "also The Cantos."

"Oh is that... Ezra Pound?" you check, genuinely unsure if you're right but the gleam in his eyes tells you that you are before his words do.

You sit for a while, swapping favourites and preferences and you don't hear the sound of the bell ringing, calling you to classes, you just keep listening to Tolya reciting from memory and you think you could listen to that forever.

"I hate to pull you away," comes a voice anyone would recognise. You look up and the resident Lantsov, Nikolai with his puppy grin and sparkling eyes is looking at Tolya, "but you are very late."

Tolya glances at the time, as long in you as you were in him, and gets up a little too quickly. "I lost track of time," he admits.

"I can see that," Nikolai spares you a glance, and smiles back at his friend. Nikolai is charming, charming in all the ways a politician might be without half the deceit and double the bravado. Handsome in the way that he knows he is handsome and leans on it, but doesn't rely on it solely like people as pretty as he often do. But it works for him, and you understand where it comes from. Lantsov is a Legacy student, which gets him a lot of allowances, but his older brother got expelled a few years back and he has been under a lot of pressure to not fuck up like Vasily did. So he goes the extra mile, does the extra work, head boy, and boy scout all in one, just to fix what his brother broke. The new girl Alina is hovering not far behind, Nikolai took a liking to her immediately, she looks lost in this place, she got in on a scholarship for a sport she didn't play and has been trying to juggle everything ever since. But she mostly talks about missing home, she has a boy back at her old school, a boy her heart aches at the absence of. Usually that sort of thing is a lie, but the way she talks about him, you would never doubt, you're not sure of his name, you've heard it once or twice, Hal, Mal maybe, you don't let your mind linger on the thought.

"I have to go, but I promise to meet you here tomorrow?" Tolya asks you, bringing you back to the library and out of your mind.

"I'll be here," you say. You watch the three of them walk away, the twins have been close to Nikolai as long as you've known any of them, thick as thieves and twice as protective of one another. You can admire a friendship like that.

"And the final stanza, ending with that imagery," Tolya is trying so very hard to stay on topic, but you are tapping your fingers across a very old copy of Odyssey and he knows you're trying to pull his attention away, and you know it's working.

"or six-feet-under in desert sand, but near to the knuckle, here and now, his bloody life in my bloody hands," you recite. "I know Tolya, it is ingrained in my mind I promise you."

"If you fail the next essay you won't be stuck with me anymore, you'll be failed," Tolya reminds you.

"I am very aware of my predicament," you straighten up, "fail and well fail, or succeed and be told the tutoring is effective and I must continue to spend these hours with you."

The way you tease him makes him want to forget the studying all together and just keep you in his company for longer, without explanation or reason beyond just wanting you there.

"This is such torture for you, isn't it?" He asks, not meaning a word.

"Not in the slightest," you confess. "My favourite part of the day, and not just because you bring really good snacks."

"I do," he agrees reaching to take a biscuit from the centre of the table. "Are you coming to the game?"

The question strikes you as odd, you have spent weeks with Tolya and you've discussed art and music and poetry at length, but you've avoided talking sports, you thought because he had wanted not to talk about it, but with this question you wonder if maybe you've been negligent in not asking him about that aspect of his life. If you've come across as uninterested in the athletics and dismissive because of it, and that thought fills you with an uncomfortable nervousness.

"I hadn't been planning on," you say slowly, "should I?"

"It's going to be a good game," he says, "a competitive one." You nod, trying to seem more enthusiastic than you're sure how to be about sports. "It's an important game," he admits, "and I would... like to have you there, if you want to come?"

"Are you asking me to come watch your game?" you ask, twiddling your pencil between your fingers. He smiles.

"Yeah, I kind of am," he admits, "is that okay?"

"Yeah," the blush creeps up your neck but has the respect to stay away from your cheeks, weeks alongside Tolya you've had to train yourself to blush more subtly, "I'd like that."

Genya and Nina are both fussing over Zoya in preparation for the game, Genya because she wants to be beautician and it is helpful, Nina because it's her prerogative to get involved wherever she wants to. Seeing Genya and Zoya be so friendly with one another is still a little unnerving, due to a not so friendly rumour about Genya and a teacher Genya had been the subject of a lot of hate from the girls at school. Zoya was among them. But the last year has brought everyone a lot closer, and everyone has become a lot more understanding, and Zoya with the help of Alina went around getting Mr Kirigan fired for his unprofessional behaviour, that which they could prove anyway. Genya weathered the worst of it all, and she never seemed to shake.

"Genya if you do not stop fussing me," Zoya warns her, but it's coming from a softer place than her normal warning tone. Zoya holds a lot of guilt when it comes to Genya, about not defending her, about not believing her, about not protecting her from the rumours.

Even Zoya had her fair share of rumours, the real reason as to why she doesn't date, the way her eyes linger moments too long on a pretty girl in the hallway, but again, you didn't like to put too much stock into rumours.

Genya twirls one of her red tendrils around her hand, trying to keep them off Zoya's long dark hair which she has pulled up into a ponytail. "Can I at least-,"

"No," Zoya says sternly. "David, please come get your girlfriend."

David, the reed thin brunette who rarely understands half of what is going on around him, looks up from the book he is reading, something on geology and metallurgy, to look at Genya who gives him a sweet smile, and he gives her a little wave, not having heard exactly what Zoya said. David and Genya are high school sweethearts, the type that you're not even aware you are rooting for at first, but at some point you realise the happiness of their relationship is the thing you are basing your idea of true love on.

"You're coming tonight right?" Nina asks you, throwing you a look across the room, you hadn't realised she noticed you being there, between trying to keep Genya from trying to colour Zoya's hair and Zoya from trying to kill Genya with a look.

"To the game?" Genya turns her eyes to you and they're glistening with anticipation. "I didn't realise you found your school spirit."

"I was invited," you explain.

"Yeah, by a tree with the muscles of a Saint," Nina quips giving you a wink. "I don't think it's school spirit they've found."

"Tolya?" Genya asks, tone shifting up a pitch with her eagerness.

"Don't say it like that," you say. Genya leans up on her elbows, resting her pretty face over her crossed hands.

"Like what?" she asks.

"Like," you gesture to her in her entirety, "like that, like you think you know something I don't know."

"If your truly flunking Lit, I think we all know something you don't know," Zoya says, "now can we get this show on the road, I cannot and will not be late."

"Ignore her," Nina mouths, "she's just cranky because... well because she is Zoya."

The air is brisk but you don't feel cold as you walk towards the field, you see Brekker underneath the bleachers talking with someone you don't recognise, but you pretend not to see anything.

Wylan has his arms around Jesper's neck in the back of the stands, and he looks less lost and more found. Matthias and Nina are bickering by the food queue about how acceptable sweet toppings are on savoury foods and she is too wrapped up in her fun game of wind up Matthias to see your wave, but you don't mind.

Zoya has corralled the cheerleaders and they're all pretty ready, Alina is staring trying not to get roped into anything as one of the cheerleaders in blue tries to tell her how good cheer is for the spirit.

Nikolai is trying to convince Zoya of something but you're not sure what, but you are at least sure it isn't working.

You are brought out of your people watching by feeling a presence close to your side, you turn your head and Inej is walking in stride. "Tolya is looking for you," she says, and you expect her to disappear into nothing as quickly as she appears, but she doesn't. She is a girl after all, not a ghost.

"When does the game start?" you ask.

"You have time," she assures you. She points south and you follow that guidance, and you see Tamar leaning on the gate, she is talking with some of the other players, and she looks so at home. It would be hard to believe there was a time when Tamar had to argue her way onto the team, given how much she has to offer.

Tamar gets a warning for cursing with enthusiasm and you cannot help but chuckle. If the other team wants a fight, they will definitely find one with her. You're about to ask if someone has seen Tolya when you feel the shadow casting across your shoulder.

"I'll get them back," Tamar is insisting.

"Always forgive your enemies; nothing annoys them so much," Tolya quotes, standing beside you. Tamar throws her brother an unamused look.

"Oscar Wilde," you say craning your neck up to look at Tolya. He looks different in his sporting kit, but his hair is still held back the same, and his arms are still exposed to the cold air, just not with rolled up sleeves this time. Looking at him makes you feel cold, and you want to ask him how he isn't.

"You're shivering," he points out.

"I am?" you ask, glancing down at your own body, "I hadn't expected it to be so cold."

"Here," Tolya reaches behind him into a bag and pulls out a jersey, it's for the team and is sporting his number on the back, he hands it to you with one hand. "So you're warm."

You take it slowly, mind racing with the many implications of such a small, kind gesture, and you don't want to jump the gun with this, with him. "Thank you," you manage, slipping the fabric over your shoulders. "I didn't even realise you had one of these."

"Everyone on the team has one," he says.

"No, a jacket," you tease, "you never wear one."

He shrugs. "I don't get cold," he explains, looking around to see how quickly he needs to make his way to the field.

"Then why did you carry it with you?" you ask. The jersey smells like Tolya, from being in his bag you'd guess, and you feel a weight in the side pocket, reaching in you find a small packet of dried mango. You let yourself smile at that.

"I've got to run," he says, "wish me luck?"

"Break a leg," you say, "or is that just something you say for theatre?"

"I'll take it," he says before joining the team.

You'd not given the sports of your school too much thought, but watching Tolya play you must admit you weren't giving the sport aspect much thought even now. You cheer for Tolya, not the game, you're watching Tolya, not the game. If anyone asked you what was happening you're not sure you'd be able to offer more than this name.

If you had any doubts about your schools victory they would have been quickly squashed by the victory cries from Tamar, all fervour and for more expletives than the coach is happy for there to be. She gets a whistle of a warning and a stern look which she just brushes off, letting her brother pull her into a hug.

You are leaning on the fence, which you hadn't noticed until now, with Tolya approaching you. The field is lower set than the stands but Tolya still feels very tall as he gets closer. You can understand why Nina described him as treelike. "Good game," you say. The warmth of his jersey on your skin feeling as secure as that embrace you watched him give Tamar, and it leaves you reaching out for him with eager thoughts and hesitant hands. You tuck them deep into your pockets- his pockets, trying not to give yourself away.

"Thank you," he says, the adrenaline in his smile is dizzying. "Thank you for coming by the way, it means a lot."

"Thank you for inviting me," you say. You want to say more, you want to find the words for this feeling, this gentle buzzing that is sparking between the two of you.

"Ask her you coward," Tamar calls from her place now sat next to Nadia, straddling the bench of a lower section of the bleachers, sharing a milkshake with her girlfriend.

Tolya laughs. "I made a bet with my sister, if we win I had to take that win, and take a risk," he says, and for someone so tall he looks so nervous. "And we won."

"You did," you nod, "quite well I think."

"Really well," he admits, laughter echoing in the spaces between the words.

"So what risk?" you ask, feeling yourself leaning onto your toes, needing to know, feeling your heart pounding in your chest.

"I was wondering if you'd like to see me, outside of school hours?" he asks.

"Like now?" you ask, trying to keep the smile at bay. He tilts his head in a nod.

"Yeah, like now, but maybe more... just us," he says. You feel like you might fall down but you can't help but tease him.

"For studying?" you ask. He can tell you're playing with him.

"No," he says, "not for studying."

"Are you trying to ask me on a date Tolya?"

"I am trying."

"I would like that, I would like that a lot."