#about being happy.... alright i understand now *viktors voice*

[hauntingblue]

Episode 8 I am so scared....

[animeshotsh]

In every universe? | JayVik x Kid!Reader

Notes: ANGST - Timeline is messy as hell but i dont care - Fake with me that Jayce and Viktor finds Kid!reader earlier in terms on time - ALTERNATIVE UNIVERSE - Character death - Grammar mistakes - S2 SPOILERS -

Alternative universe of this series

"But why do you have to stay mom?" A young voice asked Jayce who was mumbling while writing.

"Mom's has to work" Viktor softly said petting the youngest hair seeing as Jayce was too focus on the equations to even respond back.

"But, the lab at the Academy is bigger" You said again trying to understand why your dear parents have been working at home more and more.

"This is a sectet project Spark" Jayce responded turning to look at you, a soft tired smile on his face "And you must not tell anyone about it"

"Not even Heimerdinger ?"

"Specially not him" Jayce nodded to himself then to you and Viktor "I will pick you up from school and we can get some ice cream, deal?"

"Yes!!" You responded way too happy

"Alright, we must go if we dont want to be late, I have lectures to give" Viktor reminded both of you, passing you your bag and giving Jayce a kiss, "See you later"

"See you two later"

"Bye mom!!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~

The old beautiful house and lab was now a memory, a horrible explosion replaced it.

Two bodies were found, one from a girl from the old undercity and the other one was Jayce's body.

From that event the division between the cities started to shatter and a new one was born. The place was left untouched, like a memorial of the event that caused the union.

But that for Viktor and you was never enogught.

That day you stayed back at school, Jayce had no showed up so no one could get you. It was almost night time when Skyler did appear with a sour look, you were confused but went with her.

You ended more confused when she took you back to the Academy, a tired Heimerdinger went to you rubbing circles on your back.

Then you saw your dad, Viktor was sitting in front of a cold tea, his hands covering his face. When he hear the footsteps he looked up to see you.

His look, his golden eyes were reddish now, it was all you needed to understand that something terrible had happened.

He got you in a warm and almost possesive embrace, more cries could be hear from him as he hugged you and said multiple times how sorry he was.

~~~~~~~~~~

"Its that day again, right?" Powder asked you giving you a drink as you nodded

"Yeah...Dad is, well he is still working and going but this day just makes it all more difficult"

Powder nodded knowing it was the same for her and the rest.

"You know, it never leaves" She started, repeating what Vander had said all these years back "You just learn to live with it"

~~~~~~~~~

The visit to Jayce's gravestone never got easier, Viktor swear he path got longer each time and his leg pulled him back more and more.

"Dad?"

Your voice broke his toughts, obscure ideas once more, what if in another universe the three of you got to live? See the city change together? Make it a better place?

He knew he was playing with dangerous forces but....but he was sure he was close, close to open a gate to a different place, one where Jayce was still alive and with him, and you were with them, growing and being brillant.

"Im coming Spark" Viktor softly called, the vision of Jayce's gravestone was a reminder that no, not in this universe.

In this universe Jayce Talis was dead, and he was going crazy without him.

[ficfanatictrf]

Touch Starved

Summary: When you can't handle being touch starve anymore. Word Count: 1.2K

A/N - I have been struggling a bit when it comes to dealing with my own touch starved self (love being touch starved and also touch adverse). And it reminded me a lot of how my therapist was like sometimes you just have to be blunt with what you need. My Dad is not a very touchy person. We hardly hug or anything like that, but we have this dynamic now where if I am having a hard time I simply need to just tell him 'hug me, I need it' and he will until I'm alright. (This is the guy who can't even hug some of his nieces or nephews before it makes him uncomfortable).

Viktor wasn’t the most touchy person. 

Hell, you had believed he was asexual before he had admitted his feelings towards you. A startling but joyous miscalculation, that was to be sure. 

But, that left your relationship in a very odd place that you didn’t know how to navigate. 

Apart from your most intimate moments together, you could count on your hand the amount of times he had touched you. 

At first you believed it was just nerves. That he was nervous to reach out and touch you. 

However, as time passed, the two of you slowly having a routine on how the two of you interacted with each other, it left you feeling annoyingly needy. 

You wanted to touch him. Needed him to hold you, to comfort you. To feed that touch starved monster inside yourself that felt like it grew every single day, larger and larger with its constant nagging in the back of your mind. 

Yet, anytime you wished to bring up the topic, you could only remember how he had praised you for not being like all those other romantic partners. Saying how nice it was that you weren’t hanging off of him like a tree, or making him share desserts like the couples beside you, or holding hands. 

It scared you. 

He wasn’t one to do something he didn’t want to do. You knew that about him, just like how you knew he was a person that didn’t do something if he believed it was a waste of time. If he ever saw signs that your relationship wasn’t worth the time - he was sure to leave you. 

And him sometimes kissing your cheek, the rare sexual encounters, the small smiles he sent your way - that could be enough…. Couldn’t it?” 

-------- -------- --------

You found the need to have some form of comfort just being too much not even a week later, sitting in a chair beside Viktor’s desk as he worked away - like he always was. 

Honestly, you hadn’t even meant to say it, the words slipping free in a soft whisper. 

“Can I hold your hand?” 

It was like the words had to be registered by the two of you, Viktor pausing his writing to shift his gaze towards you while you felt your whole body stiffen at the realization of just what you had said. 

“Hold my hand?” 

You could hear it already, the perplexion that was in his voice as he asked for clarification. And when all you could do was nod, you knew you should have just been happy he wasn’t put off by the request. 

“I am a little busy at the moment. I’m not sure if you have noticed, but I am working.” 

The sarcasm burned, the shame making you feel so small and insignificant as you could only whimper out an apology. 

And with that, the matter had ended. 

He ended up working a good three hours more before giving you a soft kiss on the cheek as he said goodnight - heading on his way back home. 

“You need to be harder on him” 

Jayce spoke up behind you, resting his hand softly on top of your head in his own way of trying to give comfort. 

“The man is an idiot when it comes to human interaction. If you want him to understand what you want, you need to be blunt and harsh with him. Don’t ask for things, tell him what he needs to give you” 

For a moment, you just silently stood there, soaking in the warmth that came from your friend. 

You knew that he was right. He always did seem to be right about these kinds of things, but that meant you would need to be someone that you had never been before. Someone who was confident and able to demand what you needed. It had never been something you were good at…but at this point you were becoming desperate. 

With a stiff nod, your hair being ruffled in hopes of giving you motivation, you were on your way to Viktor’s apartment. 

-------- -------- --------

As the door swung open, you could see the small hints of excitement in his expression as he realized that it was you that had been knocking. 

This was very unlike you, coming to visit him unexpectedly. And as much as he didn’t want to pressure you into being more spontaneous, he couldn’t help but feel a thrill at just the prospect of you being there without it being scheduled -  that you wanted to visit him enough to just head on over. 

“Hello again, why don’t you come in-” 

“Th-this is how things are going to go” You started, unable to keep from stuttering as you tried to say things the exact way that you had replayed over and over in your mind on the way over. All the while, Viktor merely blinked at this change, before all you could see was endearment in those golden eyes. 

“I-I would like…no, I need, well no, I…” 

Frowning, you closed your eyes in hopes of getting the words out that you needed. Finally saying the thing that you had been needing to say for weeks. 

“I demand that you be more affectionate in this relationship. I need you to hold me. I need you to touch me, hold my hand, rub my back - everything!” You said, your voice raising slowly out of panic that he was going to interrupt and argue about it. 

However, instead, as you cracked your eyes open to take in how he would respond, you only saw him thinking about what had been put before him. Already, it seemed he was working on some equation of sorts in his mind. 

Humming softly to himself, it seemed to take him a few moments to piece together things enough to have a few questions. 

“How vital is this to our relationship?”

“100%” 

A soft nod, his hand coming up to his chin as he continued to calculate. 

“Hmm, how often?” 

You slowly felt some of your tension easing away, the man clearly treating this as almost like a business deal. While that was such a very Viktor thing to do, it meant that he was taking your issues seriously and without any sarcastic or teasing comments. 

He was taking your relationship seriously. 

“Everyday…if possible” 

You knew you shouldn’t have tacked on that last part, which Viktor seemed to catch onto very quickly as he reached out to rather awkwardly take hold of your hand. 

“Everyday. Noted. And is there a minimum length of time each of these occurrences take place?” 

With a nervous shake of your head, biting your lip as you just felt like a bother, you could see the man continuing to work on the issue in his mind. 

He only nodded, leading you inside and to the couch. 

Nothing was said as he plopped down onto the cushions, carefully easing you down onto himself so that he didn’t hurt his more sensitive leg. And despite how you wished for it not to happen, you had found yourself slipping to sleep in his hold in a matter of minutes. 

-------- -------- --------

From then on, everything was like night and day. 

It had taken a bit of time for him to be more comfortable with it, but slowly he had gotten into the habit of being affectionate and soft with you. 

Even to admit that he was slowly finding himself looking forward to your cuddle times and good morning kisses. 

[hp-imagines-07]

Angel that fell from heaven - Part 1

READ PART 2 - HERE

Viktor Krum x Fem!Reader

Universe: Harry Potter; The Golden Trio era

Type: fluffy

Summary: [y/n] goes to the Quidditch World Cup with the Weasleys but something went wrong and the Bulgarian Seeker, Viktor Krum ends saving her.

Request: yes|NO

Prompt: xxx

Warnings: swear 

Song: xxx

Word Count: 1.3K

Posted: 17th of April 2020

A/N: i think krum deserves more, he's so perfect omg

My Others Accounts: @obx-imagines-07​ (Outer Banks) | @stit-imagines-07​ (Stranger Things & IT) | @mcu-imagines-07​ (Marvel Comics Universe)

MY MASTERLIST

You always loved quidditch.

But your moms never liked the sport, they say that they don't like seeing people so far from the floor.

Even if that is why you love so much quidditch! It's so different from all the other games, it's always so exciting.

And when the twins invited you to go with them to the Quidditch World Cup, you got so happy and excited that even that your mothers didn't liked the sport, they couldn't say no to their daughter.

So, when Molly, Fred and George came to take you, your moms did a few snacks and all of you spent the rest of the day chatting and having fun.

When it was time to go, your moms were literally the opposite of each other, one of them checked your stuff and the other was trying not to cry.

You said goodbye to them and went to the Weasleys.

When you got there, was already late and everyone was asleep, so you went to Ginny's bedroom and saw a few sheets and blanks at the floor, next to Hermione.

Your bags were at the living room, so you fell asleep with the clothes that you were using.

The Next Day...

You woke up, knowing that today was the day.

So you jumped out of your "bed" and saw your bags at the corner of the room that you were, right now alone.

You brushed your teeth, changed to another clothes that were more comfy to wear at the morning and went downstairs, seeing everyone at the kitchen laughing at something stupid that George said.

"What are we laughing at ?" You asked and sat down between Ginny and Ron, in front of Hermione.

"We were talking about how the Bulgarian Team is shitty !" You all laughed at the face that Ron did for his brothers.

"I don't think so." You said after breathing and stoping laughing.

"[y/n] just says it because of the seeker of the team." Fred say and you just roll your eyes, knowing that it's true.

"You're right, Freddie. She thinks he's cuuuute." George complete and you blush a little bit while everyone laugh.

"C'mom [y/l/n], that's disgusting ! He's old for you." Ron say and you look at him, pretending to be offended.

"But Ron, we have the same age !" You say and everyone looks at you, asking what does that mean. "We all know that Ron is in love with Krum."

Everyone laugh with you, but Ron looks at you with an angry expression and you send a kiss to him, making everyone laugh more and Ron blush that he was at the same color as his hair.

With a few more talks and laughs, you all finish your breakfast and went to get ready to go.

When everyone was ready, you said goodbye to Molly and went with Arthur to the woods.

The boys were going a little bit faster, so they were at your front, while you talked with Hermione and Ginny about how was to live with 2 moms.

"Now, I want to have two moms !" Ginny said, pretending to be sad and you laugh, while Mione agreed with her.

"Girls." Mr. Weasley called you and you saw a man, that just recognized as Cedric's father.

"Hey, Mr. Diggory." you said, passing by everyone, who looked at you like you were an alien.

"Hello, Mrs. [y/l/n]." he shook your hand and his son appeared giving his best smile to you.

"[y/n/n] !" Cedric hugged you tight, trying to forget all the time at the summer break he passed missing you.

When he let you go, you saw all your friends with confused looks at you both.

"Sorry guys, that's Cedric Diggory. He's at Hogwarts with us, but Cedric's from Hufflepuff." You explained and everyone seemed to understand, so they all introduced theirselves to your friend and you continued your walk.

"Girl, let me talk to you." Hermione said pulling aside everyone and looking at your eyes "How do you do it ? Could you teach me something ? Like, literally anything."

"Wait, what are we talking about ?" You asked, totally confused about the conversation and Ginny come along with you two.

"Like, how can you have all the guys for you ?" Hermione asked and Ginny looked at you with her, and the two girls saw your confused face.

"Fred, George, Cedric, Harry, Draco, Seamus." Ginny started to count.

"And even Gregory Goyle fancies you." Hermione completed her friend.

"Wait, what ???????????" You asked confused but the girls didn't payed attention.

"Yes, and don't forget that Nigel is basically in love with her!" Ginny finished and the girls laughed.

"wHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT ???????????"

"Wait, you really don't get it ?" Mione asked and you just shook your head saying no. 

"Like, you don't see that you can have any guy that you want? Literally anyone?" The Weasley girl asked and you did he same that you did at the least question.

"Wow, that's something that I was not expecting..." Hermione said and after she completed. "I even wanted some tips."

"Everyone, come here." Mr. Weasley called and you all went to him, seeing a shoe. "That's a portal key, we all should hold it and let it go when I say so."

You all touched the portal key and before you knew it, you were at the Quidditch World Cup.

Time Skip To The Game...

You changed into your favorite pair of jeans, a sweatshirt of your favorite muggle band and your black boots. Your hair was naturally down and your make up was just a light blush, mascara, lip gloss and an eyeliner.

When you got at the stadium, your heart was beating so fast, that you thought it would explode.

You were going to your places, when you heard a familiar voice and you all looked down at Draco and Lucius Malfoy.

Draco talked with Harry and Lucius talked to Arthur, but they stopped discussing when you showed up.

"Malfoy." You said and if you were closer, you would see him got goosebumps.

"[y/l/n], what a surprise." Draco said with his low voice to not show weakness for you and, even don't being attracted to him, you could say that summer break did well for him.

You didn't had time to answer him, because the twins pulled you out of his vision and you all continued your way.

As you got at your seats, the "show" started.

Everything was just as perfect as you though it would be, but what was way better, was when Viktor Krum appeared with the Bulgarian Team.

Every single person that was watching, was screaming and clapping at him.

"Yeah, Krum is cute as hell !" Was all you could think, looking at him.

Your seats were kinda high - but the view was great - and you wanted to see him, just a little bit closer.

So you supported yourself at the thing in front of you and looked down, to try to see more stuff.

Well, that was not your best idea.

You were so distracted with everything that, you just woke up from your little daydream when Mr. Weasley warned you to be away from where you were.

But that was kinda late.

You got scared with his voice suddenly strong and when you were getting away, your feet stumbled in theirselves and before anyone could try to hold you, you were free falling.

Everything happened so fast that you could hear a few screams and several gasps and closed your eyes, waiting for the impact that your body would have at the floor.

And you just thought about your moms and the future that you would never have.

But then, you felt two strong arms holding your weak body and before you opened your eyes, you take a breath.

Like it was your last.

And, opening your eyes, you kinda felt that you were in heaven.

VIKTOR KRUM just saved your life.

"Hey, you're alright. I got you." He said and smiled at you, putting you sit at his broom.

You couldn't say anything at the moment - you almost died, c'mom - but the way you squished his body and your breath finally came back to normal, he knew he had found his angel that fell from heaven. 

[alj4890]

And Then I Met You

What happens when the one you thought you were meant for turns out to be meant for someone else?

A\N Choices Fan Fiction with characters from The Royal Romance, Red Carpet Diaries, and Perfect Match

@lxaah11​   @alleksa16​   @penguininapinktuxedo​   @blackcoffee85​   @stopforamoment​     @hopelessromantic1352​     @krsnlove     @annekebbphotography        @hopelessromantic1352   . @sunflowergirl05   @desireepow-1986  @greywitchyshots   @lilyofchoices @moodyvalentinestories  @emceesynonymroll   @my-heart-beats-for-ya @aworldoffandoms   @ab1901     @lolablackwrites     @flyawayboo   @i-bloody-love-drake-walker   . @trappedinfandoms   @kate-mckenzie

A/N This is the final chapter for this storyline. Thank you so much for reading this and enjoying it with me. I will still offer shorts and requests for this pair in this storyline. My next series for Thomas and Amanda will be the, “what if” she never told him about being part of the selection for Liam’s bride. The trip to Lake Tahoe will not result in their hasty marriage. No Lauren. None of what has happened here. If you would like to be tagged in this, please let me know in the comments. The new series will be called, And Then I Left You. Cheesy right? LOL!

Masterlist

Part 27 

Lord Thurston Vancouer’s study, Cormery Isle, Cordonia...

Lauren stilled at Tariq's words.

"You," her eyes narrowed, "you are ending our engagement?!"

"Yes." He clasped his hands behind his back. "I have already sent in my statement to the press and--"

"You did what?" She screeched. "How dare you! I should have been the one to do that." She stepped forward and slapped him. "Do you have any idea what this will do to my reputation?"

Tariq's jaw spasmed from the impact. He calmly turned his head back toward her.

Her temper flared even more at his silence. “I gave up my career for you, you bastard!” She raised her hand to slap him again.

His hand shot up, grasping her wrist. “I think this is for the best.”

“You think so?” Her lips curled in a snarl. “You will regret this.”

His expression hardened. “I think I will regret it more if I don’t end things now.”

Lauren yanked her hand away.  “You weren’t the only man who wanted me to marry him.” Her chin lifted as she tried her best to look down her nose at him. “I was told by your friend to dump your sorry ass and choose him.” 

Tariq merely shrugged causing her vengeful temper to burst. 

“It’s Blair isn’t it?” She narrowed her eyes. “Don’t think I’ve been oblivious to the extra time you have been spending with her.”

“She is in a sense a reason behind my decision.” He responded. “But mostly, she opened my eyes to your true nature.”

“You haven’t even begun to see my true nature.” She warned. “But you will. You will see all that I am as I destroy every single thing you love.” 

Her smile sent chills down Tariq’s back as did the words that followed.

“I think I will start with Arabella. That will punish not only Neville for what he did to me, but will also hurt your precious Blair. Then I’ll--” 

“I don’t think you will have the chance to do anything to my daughters or son.” Lord Thurston’s hard tone cut through her tirade.

Lauren paled when she saw members of the King’s Guard fan out around the study behind Lord Thurston. 

“Your time in Cordonia has come to an end.” Thurston told her. “In fact, I believe you will never have an opportunity to hurt anyone ever again.”

Lauren screamed out her denial when the the guards moved to take her into custody.

“You can’t do this! I--” she was silenced by the guards forcing her to the ground to handcuff her.

An Interpol agent stood by, watching it all unfold while reading out the crimes she was accused of.

Arabella and Blair stood silently with Neville in the hallway as Lauren was dragged out, screaming and crying.

“We must inform Lady Olivia and Lady Amanda that it is done.” Thurston said once the front door closed behind the guards..

“I’ll call Olivia.” Arabella ran off, excited to not only see Lauren taken away, but at also recording the whole incident. She knew a few popular reporters in Cordonia who would appreciate this video.

“I’ll make certain that Lady Amanda is told.” Blair went to Tariq and gently squeezed his hand. Her eyes met his. “Are you alright?”

He nodded, a gentle smile formed over her concern for him. “I am now.”

With a whispered promise to talk to him soon, she left the three men alone.

Thurston cleared his throat to break the tense silence and waved toward his study. “I believe we need to clear the air between you two.”

“There is no need.” Tariq replied. He averted his eyes from the two. “It will take time, but I refuse to let what happened ruin my relationship with the Vancouer’s.”

Neville lowered his head. “I don’t know what possessed me to do that to you.” He lifted remorseful eyes to his old friend. “I humbly ask your forgiveness.”

Thurston wisely remained silent as he watched his son and the man he considered a second son. He knew that this was something that only they could resolve.

Tariq shifted from foot to foot. “I won’t insult you by lying that I understand why you did it or that it didn’t hurt to hear that you--” he shook his head. “I consider you and your family as my own. And if things go as I think, then we will be brothers in truth one day.” His shoulders straightened. “You will have my forgiveness, but it will take a long time for you to regain my trust.”

Thurston looked on in approval as the two shook hands, his son expressing once more his sorrow for his actions.

Time would heal these wounds.

***************

The night before in Monterisso, Queen Amalas's private quarters...

"Enough haggling." Olivia grumbled. "I've offered my services the next time you need them." She folded her arms, leveling her basilisk gaze upon the Queen of Spies. "What have you found out about Lauren Benefield?"

Amalas poured them each a glass of wine. "Have a seat."

Olivia eyed the crystal goblet.

"Please." Amalas rolled her eyes. "Why would I make deals if I planned on poisoning you?"

Olivia set the glass down. "I know you didn't poison it. I am here on business, not some social call."

The queen's expression held hints of approval. "And this is why I offered my services to you." She pulled out a small flash drive and tossed it to her. "That, your grace, holds everything."

Olivia quirked an eyebrow. "I assume you kept a copy for yourself."

Amalas silently raised her glass in a toast. "Wouldn't you?"

Olivia's lips twitched into a brief smile. "Naturally."

The Queen pressed a button under her desk. The wall to the left opened, revealing a series of monitors.

Amalas took her own copy of the flash drive and began to pull up all she had discovered on Lauren Benefield.

"It is a good thing you managed to have Lauren quit Lord Hunt's picture.” She began, “ Here's a brief synopsis of what I discovered about her and her associate, Viktor Montmarte.

Olivia pulled up a chair and began reading. Her complexion paled due to some of what she read.

"Kidnapping. Drugs. Sex trafficking. Rape. Extortion." She clicked and saw the small island in the south Pacific that Viktor owned.

"Lauren was not only partaking of these activities." Amalas explained. "She was handpicking underage girls and having them sent to his island," her voice hardened in anger, "under the guise that this was their big break into Hollywood."

Olivia's eyes widened at the satellite images of what was happening around Viktor's estate. "Dear God."

"Interpol along with the FBI are thrilled that I was able to get some concrete evidence." Amalas explained. "I've been working with them the past few months." Her voice turned cold. “Montmarte has friends in very high places that have been helping him stay just under the radar.” Her eyes narrowed. “I knew he couldn’t be doing all this on his own.”

"And when you saw what Lauren was doing to Thomas and Amanda, you were able to get the final piece to the puzzle?" Olivia murmured.

"I didn't know if she was a victim or a partner of Viktor's. Once I tapped into their conversations while she was at Lythikos, I was able to see how deeply involved she was." Amalas enlarged a photo of Lauren smiling as she disembarked off a plane with two teenage girls. "Without her help, Viktor wouldn't have gotten half of the girls he and his friends preferred."

Olivia clicked on another image of Lauren and Viktor at a pool party. The actress was laughing while holding down a young woman in tears so that the producer could forcefully fondle her.

Amalas clicked back to her notes. "I discovered this too." She pulled up a recorded conversation between Viktor and Lauren from when she first began working with Thomas. "Lauren records everything in case she needs to blackmail Viktor and vice versa."

Viktor: How's your seduction going?

Lauren: *laughter* Slow. I have to handle Thomas with kid gloves.

Viktor: If anyone can do it, it's you.

Lauren: I know. *more laughter* Don't worry. I won't forget about you. Once Mr. Hunt is mine, I will give you his grieving wife.

Viktor: *chuckle* I have plans for the duchess.

Lauren: I bet you do.

Viktor: I haven't ever had a noble before. *sinister chuckle* Perhaps I should use the gold rope when I tie her up.

Lauren: Promise me that I get to watch. I can't wait to see her content, happy face devastated.

Viktor: I promise it will be all that you desire, my dear.

Lauren: Maybe we should first force her to watch what I do with Thomas. That will really get her.

Viktor: The more broken they are the more turned on I get. We'll use the rooms with the two-way mirrors. I’ll start by--

Olivia turned it off. Her rage exploded as she stood abruptly from her chair.

"I--" tears sparked her green eyes. "I can't believe--" words failed her as she thought of her closest friend encountering such evil. That she actually had this person in her home as a guest.

Amalas placed a comforting hand on Olivia's shoulder. "Don't worry." She closed the files. "Once America and Europe are finished, these two will be permanently placed in a dank cell."

“They don’t deserve that consideration.” Olivia snapped. “To think of all the lives they have ruined.”

Later that night, Olivia called Liam and Bastien. She explained all that she had discovered, urging them to alert Lord Thurston to guard Arabella and Blair.

Plans were made to have the actress apprehended and held for extradition. Liam promised to call Tariq to go ahead an issue a statement that his engagement was over before the scandal struck.

After talking to them, Olivia called Amanda.

****************

St Orella, Cordonia, the next day...

Thomas was in no state to continue filming. Last night's discovery had nearly broke him. Knowing he would have been the one that brought about harm to Amanda and their life together had devastated him.

He had briefly explained to Holly to have the crew take a few days off while he came to terms with everything.

He then spent the morning on the balcony, staring off at the waves, crashing against the rocky shore.

"How long have you been out here?" Amanda asked once she found him.

"Sunrise." He replied, unable to look directly at her.

She came over and sat next to him. Her hand slipped into his as she turned her attention to the beauty before them.

Thomas couldn't take the simple kindness. He rose abruptly and went to stand over at the balustrade.

"Thomas?" Amanda followed him and wrapped her arms around him from behind. "What's--"

He jerked out of her grasp. "I need to be alone."

Her eyes searched his, causing him to avert his gaze.

"Why?" She asked.

Thomas ran his hands over his face. "You know why."

She leaned against the balustrade, silently observing her husband’s odd behavior.

He couldn't take it. He left her without a word and went directly to their closet.

Amanda followed him, watching as he began to pack.

"What are you doing?" She asked. "We don't leave for the capital until Thursday."

He tried to swallow the lump forming in his throat. "I'm not going to the capital."

"What? Why?" Amanda couldn't take him avoiding her and blocked his path. "We must attend Liam's coronation!"

Thomas stilled when she took his hands. His head dropped, wishing she would order him to leave and never return. He didn’t deserve her. 

"Are you angry with me?" She asked.

His head jerked up. "What would I have to be angry with you for?" His expression hardened. "Were you the one to insist on having an actress be around the one you vowed to protect? Were you the one who dismissed all the concerns voiced by those you trust?" His voice cracked. "Did you leave the one you love more than anything alone with such a person nearby to film on location?"

Amanda stepped closer, winding her arms around him. "You didn't know Lauren was that evil. You thought she was a flirt. A woman who got off on destroying people's lives with affairs."

"I should have put two and two together." He snapped, completely disgusted at himself. "I suspected Viktor of predatory behavior with young actresses. I should have seen that his closeness to Lauren meant that they were of like mind."

His temper broke as he thought over all his decisions concerning the actress. “AND I’M THE FOOL WHO BROUGHT THEM INTO OUR HOME!”

His voice echoed in their bedroom. A nervous Hudson knocked on the door, forcing Thomas to quickly apologize for his outburst.

Amanda shushed him, pulling him closer to her. The morning's news had shown the actress being extradited from Cordonia while Viktor was simultaneously being dragged from his Hollywood mansion in the middle of the night. Some other famous people and those in the business and diplomatic world were being held for questioning and arrested.

"It's over." She said softly. "Neither Viktor nor Lauren will ever have a chance to hurt someone again." She pressed a tender kiss to his cheek. "And thankfully, they did not have a chance to hurt us as they had planned."

"If they had, I--" he swallowed at the lump in his throat. "I could have lost you."

Amanda shook her head. "You wouldn't have lost me." 

She tried to kiss him. Prove to him that all was as it should be.

He broke away. "I would have. If Lauren had succeeded in making you believe I was having an affair. If Viktor had succeeded in--" his fist clinched, wishing he had them wrapped around the man's throat. "I would have lost you."

She tried to say he wouldn't, yet, she knew deep down that he very well might have. As she imagined how she would be after going through something like that, she realized what would have happened if they had divorced.

"We would have found our way back to each other."

Thomas raised his heartbroken eyes back to hers. "You sound so certain."

"Not only do I love you, I need you." She admitted. "You give me comfort." She tugged on his arms to hold her. "You listen to me, try to help me...I would have needed all that if they had succeeded." She nestled her head in the crook of his neck and shoulder. "Your touch alone helps ease any worry or pain I have."

He clutched her tight, words failing at how she did the same for him. He pressed his lips to her forehead, letting them remain there as he allowed her to ease the tension within him.

******************

Fives Months Later, Hollywood...

Thomas tugged at his bowtie while he waited downstairs. He reviewed the speech he had written for tonight’s premiere of The Earl’s Undoing.

“You’re going to ruin that if you keep pulling at it.” 

He looked up and smiled at his wife coming downstairs. Slipping the notecards in his breast pocket, he met her at the bottom step.

“I must admit that I feel those same butterflies that I had the night you took me to the AFI’s awards.” She tilted her head when he kissed her cheek. “Are you sure this is what I should wear tonight?”

Thomas took her hand and twirled her. The rich royal blue gown sparkled in the lamp light. “You look beautiful.” 

She pressed a tender kiss to his lips, smiling as he held her close. “You look very handsome.”

“I notice you say that whenever I wear a tuxedo.” He teased. “That is the only reason I keep wearing them to events.”

She laughed, slipping her arm in the bend of his. “We better go. Liam sent a text saying that they would be leaving the hotel in an hour.”

The two made their way to the theater. Cameras flashed as their limo pulled up.

“Ready?” Thomas asked.

“I think so.” She gripped his hand. 

“Normally, I would say we forget about it and go straight home.” He stepped out of the car and helped her out. As cameras flashed and cheers were yelled, he leaned down to whisper in her ear. “But I want everyone to see how proud I am that you let me direct your story.”

Cameras once again captured the moment the two looked at one another. The tender smile and obvious love was seen by all along with the sweet kiss the duchess gave her director.

That night, Thomas did not remain dismissive of any question posed about the film. With Amanda by his side, he remained for the most part, almost pleasant with the invasive inquiries of their life together and whether or not they would work on any more projects as they had with The Earl’s Undoing.

Finally making it inside the theater, they joined their friends who each had a hand in helping the couple get here together.

Once they all found their seats, Thomas whispered that he would be right back.

He made his way to the front of the packed auditorium and raised his hand for silence.

“Good evening.” He began. “I want to thank each person who made this movie possible. My gratitude to our friends from Cordonia who traveled here specifically to support us. And how grateful I am for those of you who came out tonight.” 

He cleared his throat and waited for the applause to die down. “Let me begin by saying what many directors that have come before me have said. This was a labor of love.” His eyes met Amanda’s. “But unlike the love we feel for our craft, mine was truly one of deep, heartfelt emotion. Without this story, I would have never met the author who ended up becoming the very love of my life.”

Amanda blinked back tears as he gave a brief story of how he had fallen in love with her while working towards making a movie. Beside her, Nadia, Riley, and Addison were sniffing and wiping their own tears. Even Olivia and Holly were slightly affected, both attempting to pretend they weren’t.

“What you will see on the screen is a love letter to my wife, Amanda.” He explained. “Every shot. Every line said in a particular way. Every bit of costume and scenery...it is all from my heart.” He once again met his wife’s unwavering gaze. “For the rest of my life, this movie will be my favorite of all time and all because I met you.”

[minervahopebeyond]

Blood Petals.

Hi!! I’m so glad I could update this soon! Please let me know if you liked it✨✨

Ps. Sorry if you find any errors (grammar or vocabulary)

Chapter 14: Gryffindor vs Slytherin.

Halloween came and Potter went to Grimmauld Place. Draco was happy that he could spend time with them, specially with the thing of the Prophet going on. He had sent a few Patronuses to know how they were, but their responses had been ambiguous and rather short.

When the green-eyed boy returned the following day, the first thing that Draco did was asking about them.

“They are fine. They hugged me a lot, I think they were feeling a bit lonely... and Halloween just makes everything worst.”

Draco nodded, of course he understood. The fear of everything being an ilusion, the possibility of it going all away again... And also the guilt: because James was here but Lily wasn’t.

“What about the article?”

Potter pushed his hair back and shifted a little.

“Padfoot was very insistent that it was bullshit, but-“ He shut his mouth suddenly, anxious eyes were looking at Draco.

“What, Potter?” The dark-haired boy shrugged.

“It’s just that my dad was very pissed off when we where talking about it. I feel like there is more than what they told me.” Draco frowned at that.

“Pissed off how? With Skeeter?” He asked, confused. Potter shook his head.

“With Sirius.” Draco couldn’t help but to laugh at that.

“Your father couldn’t be mad at Sirius even if he tried.”

Potter looked down at his shoes as he responded.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought, but he almost didn’t speak directly at Sirius when I was there. Only if there wasn’t any other choice.”

How weird... A world where Sirius Black and James Potter were fighting. It seemed surreal.

“Well, they are still coming to the game right? I’ll see it for myself then.”

Potter nodded, and offered Draco a little smile. The daffodils started to annoy him. It was getting worst; the tickles were almost always there if he was with Potter; and the coughing fits didn’t happen often, but the last time he had one, he had coughed eight petals. He just wished to have a little more time without the symptoms being obvious, right now he could hide it and live a normal life... He couldn’t say exactly for how long that was going to last.

————————

The first game of the season was Griffindor vs Slytherin, and it took place at the second Saturday of November. He was excited, counting the days to get back to the pitch and play; practice was nice and all, but the rush of adrenaline he felt while he was in a game could not be compare to anything.

A few days before the game, he was surprised to find Ron sitting on the floor, next to the Slytherin’s dungeons. Pansy and Blaise were standing in front of the boy, he walked towards them.

“Oh, darling! You are here. Good! Weasley is moping and we don’t know how to procede.”

He turned to look at his friend on the floor; crossed arms, an expression that showed little patience to any situation, pained look on his eyes. Shit.

“It’s okay, Pans. I’ll take it from here... You go with Blaise.” It looked like the girl wanted to protest, but the boy next to her took her arm and force her to follow him. Weasley and him were left alone.

“Do you want to go outside to talk about this?”

“No, she could be there.”

Of course it was about Granger, nothing could affect him so much like that girl. It also explained why Ron came looking for him, he refused to talk to Potter about it. Draco sighed and sat beside him, resting his back against the wall. He waited for a few moments, in silence, for him to talk.

“Did you know that Hermione kissed Viktor Krum in fourth year?”

Draco did know that, in fact, he thought that everyone knew that. It was expected. Victor was eighteen at the time, while Granger was only fourteen; logic dictated that they must of done something , even if it was just kissing. To be honest, he was kind of relief that it was only that. Hermione was mature for her age, but when you are fourteen years old you don’t know shit and Viktor was eighteen, almost an adult.

“I assumed that she did, yes.”

Wrong answer. Weasley was red with rage, indignant, hissing at him ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ ‘All of you were hiding this from me’. And he was wide-eyed, waiting for his friend to calm down. When the redhead stopped with his rant, Draco spoke.

“So, let’s see if I understand. You are mad at Granger for something that happened two years ago, when you didn’t ask her to go with you to the Yule ball-“

“I asked her!” He yelled.

“Yes, but as a last resort, of course she already had a date.” The redhead frowned and looked away. “The point is that it happened two years ago. What are you worried about? It’s not like she’s still dating Krum...”

Weasley muttered something that Draco couldn’t understand, when he asked to repeat it, he spoke again.

“I haven’t kissed anyone, if someday I kiss her I want to know what to do... Imagine if she is disgusted because I do something wrong” The boy pulled his knees to his chest. “It would be different if neither of us knew how to kiss, because she can’t compare it to anyone.” Draco frowned at that.

“Granger is not that shallow. If you two kiss is going to be great because it’s you two. Whether she liked to kiss Krum or not, is irrelevant.”

Ron seemed to relax a little when heard that, he rested his head against the wall and sighed.

“Make a move, weasel. The pining is is unbearable.” Ron chuckled, and looked at him.

“I can’t risk our friendship. If we date and it doesn’t work out, then Harry would be in the middle. And he doesn’t even like it when we fight.” Draco groaned.

“Potter is a big boy. Speaking of which, when do you think that Ginevra is going to dump Thomas for your best friend? I’ll give it a month or so, specially if he keeps being so obvious.” He said in a nonchalant way.

He knew that what he was doing was pretty basic. If he acted like he didn’t care at all, bringing up the subject like it wasn’t a big deal, then Weasley would stop having that stupid smug smile whenever he saw Draco and Potter together around the school.

Ron sighed and rolled his eyes.

“I don’t think that Harry even knows what he feels. He never does, last year when he kissed Cho, I asked how was it... He said and I quote: it was wet.”

The petals started moving, hurting him. He didn’t know that Potter had kissed Chang... He thought that their date to Hogsmade on Valentine’s Day was a disaster, everyone said so. Draco should have heard about a bloody kiss. The air was not getting in. He needed to get out of there. Now. If he started to have coughing fits every time that Weasley said something about his best friend, he was bound to notice it.

“Ferret, are you alright?” Draco stood up, abruptly, nodding his head. He forced himself to speak, containing the urge to cough.

“Yes... I just remembered that I had to meet Severus. Sorry.”He practically ran away from there.

Later he found himself counting the petals: eleven... They weren’t even hard to coughed out. Fuck.

————————-

The quidditch games were something that everyone at Hogwarts looked forward to, because they encouraged house unity. For a day, it didn’t matter if you got along with your housemates or not; you sang, yelled and cried for your house colors... This made Draco feel immensely proud of representing Slytherin on the pitch.

Of all the quidditch matches, Slytherin vs Gryffindor was certainly the most important of the year. Not only because it was the first one of the season, but because the competition was fierce. The Slytherin team would push everyone off their broom if necessary just to win the game and the Gryffindors would cheer louder than in any other match.

This could be his last year playing quidditch. His last game playing against Potter. He would win this.

Draco already had his quidditch robes on, walking towards the Great Hall to have breakfast, his best friends by his side. No one could take the smile off his face. Today was the day, he could feel it.

Pansy had some green eye-shadow on, with little hearts of green glitter next to the wing of her eyeliner, her lips colored black; and last but not least... she was wearing Draco’s quidditch shirt (that seemed huge on her tiny body) over her sweater. She looked like a Slytherin queen and if Draco were straight, he would have kissed her right there and then.

Blaise never liked make up but he was wearing a green sweater, and also allowed the dark-haired girl to draw a green snake on the back of his hand.

Draco had the best friends in the entire world, they always supported him. Even with everything that happened in the department of mysteries... they never left him.

“Little cousin!!” Sirius was standing in front of the entrance of the Great Hall with his arms wide open. Mr Potter and Remus beside him, and of course, the golden trio was there too.

Draco ran across the hallway and threw himself into Sirius’s arms, hugged him tight.

“ I’m so happy that you are here!” Then he looked to the men next to his cousin. “All of you.” He stepped away from Sirius to greet the rest of them.

“It’s good to see you again, Professor Lupin.” Said Blaise with a beautiful smile. Draco knew that it was because he found Remus attractive, he had told him about that in third year.

“Thank you, Mr Zabini, it’s good to be in the castle and see you all too.” He responded with a kind voice.

“Don’t you think is a bit much, Parkinson?” That was Potter’s irritated voice.

“Just because you would look ugly in this outfit, Potter, doesn’t mean that is ‘too much’” Said the girl as she rolled her eyes. Mr. Potter couldn’t help but chuckle until his son sent him a look .

“I think that what Harry here...” Said Weasley as he put his arm around the green-eyed boy. “...is trying to say is that we are going to destroy you on the pitch, therefore the outfits are going to look stupid when you are crying over losing.”

Draco smiled in an amused way, he never saw Weasley so confident. The blond boy arched an eyebrow.

“Don’t worry, weasel. You are going to do great out there.” Then he directed his eyes at Potter. “You, on the other hand, I’m going to make you wish you never caught that bloody remembrall. That’s the level of humiliation that I’m promising”. He stated with a playful smile.

Potter was looking at him with fire in his eyes. It felt so familiar to fight like this with him. The petals were crazy inside of him, they had been since that morning; the only thought of flying against the boy was enough to make the daffodils happy, now, he felt the tickles all over.

“I’d like to see you try, Malfoy.”

The blond boy turned around to where the Marauders were.

“Neither of you have Slytherin colors! I’m practically an orphan, how dare you!” He said with a fake dramatic tone.

Sirius and Mr. Potter laughed, although poor Remus looked kind of guilty. Then Potter spoke again.

“To be fair I was actually an orphan until five months ago.” Draco rolled his eyes.

“Yes yes, Potter, we know you were an orphan. Find another personality trait.”

The dark-haired boy rolled his eyes as everyone laugh at their banter.

“I have to eat something or Pansy is going to kill me.” He heard his best friend yelling ‘You got that right’. “I’ll see you after the match, okay?”

“Sure, little cousin.”

And he entered the Great hall with the other two Slytherins.

—————————

Draco was so exited for the match, he felt the adrenaline going through him. He was watching Potter on the other end of the pitch, waiting for everything to begin. Madam Hooch blew the whistle and everyone started to move.

Weasley was catching everything that his team threw at him, and the Gryffindor chasers where fierce. It all depended on how quick he could catch the snitch, with the difference of hundred and fifty points, they could still win.

Potter was flying right beside him, the stupid firebolt was too fast. They were chasing the snitch but a bludger was thrown at them and they lost it.

Look for it. Fast. Faster than Potter. Come on, Draco.

He looked up, and there it was... higher than he had ever seen it. He did a little dive to take impulse and flew in a straight line towards it. Another bludger passed by him, he dodged it. Soon he heard the sound of Potter’s firebolt right behind him.

He sped up as much as he could, but his broom couldn’t compete. The only thing that kept him first in line to get the snitch was his determination to win that stupid game.

“Malfoy! Where the hell are you going?? That’s too high!” The boy yelled, he was still chasing him.

Draco extended his hand to catch the snitch, almost there. And then, it all happened so fast.

“Scared, Potter??” He said with a playful tone. Draco closed his hand around the snitch, bright smile on his face. Potter was still behind him so he couldn’t see him, and Lee Jordan was too busy commentating the score of Ginevra.

“You wish.”

There was no air. Fuck. With one hand on the snitch, he took the other one off his broom to cover his mouth as he coughed.

It was too much, hearing Potter saying that. Too much memories invading his head, the flowers were fucking suffocating him. He lost control of his broom, and that was that.

As he was falling, he kept trying to stop the petals from getting out, he didn’t want anyone to see. Tears coming out of his eyes as he coughed the daffodils full of blood. Even if they were just a few... they would know, everyone would know.

He couldn’t breathe, his head was dizzy. He held the snitch even tighter. Draco could feel the wind on his face but no trace of air was getting inside of his lungs, he could only feel the fucking flowers cutting their way through. Everything went black.

[kittenshift-17]

👀

“WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS!?” Molly Weasley screeched from the kitchen of Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, startling Hermione Jean Granger so badly that she slipped sideways out of her stool to sprawl on the floor, her book clutched tightly in one hand and her eyes wide with terror.

“There’s really no need to shout, Molly,” Professor Albus Dumbledore sighed, eyeing her disapprovingly.

“Hermione, are you alright?” Remus asked, leaning out of his chair and offering her a hand to get back to her feet.

“What’s going on?” Hermione asked, frowning even as she took Remus’s hand, letting him pull her up before she slipped back into her seat, glancing around at the apparently hostile participants in the discussion.

She’d been invited into the Order meeting this evening, but she hadn’t been paying a lick of attention. Dumbledore had slipped her a book as he’d entered the kitchen, one about the uses of polyandric covens throughout the Middle Ages that focused more specifically on Morgana and her rise to power. She’d become immediately engrossed and had lost the thread of discussion carrying on around her.

“No need to shout?” Molly bristled. “Albus, SHE’S A CHILD!”

Hermione winced at the shriek that rent the air, surely doing damage to Molly’s voice box. Her face was red, and the plump witch was on her feet, her face screwed up with concentration and hostility as she glared furiously at Professor Dumbledore. The woman looked ready to commit murder and Hermione frowned, never one to enjoy not knowing what was going on.

“You have to admit, Albus, it’s a truly despicable idea,” Professor Minerva spoke up, her expression shrewd and pinched, not at all pleased.

“She’s of age and she is magically the most gifted witch born in Britain since either of you two delightful women,” Dumbledore replied, unsettlingly calm in the face of the rage both women seemed intent on throwing at him.

“Thanks, Dumbles,” Tonks grunted from the end of the table. “You really know how to make a girl feel appreciated.”

“Begging your pardon, Nymphadora, but much of your power is harnessed by your ability to metamorph,” Dumbledore smile kindly.

“Albus, she’s just a girl,” Arthur Weasley spoke up and Hermione blinked, shocked to see Arthur disagreeing with the Headmaster.

“She’s of age,” Dumbledore repeated.

“BARELY!” Molly exploded again. “IF YOU THINK I’M GOING TO LET YOU SACRIFICE THAT GIRL OR HER VRTUE FOR THE SAKE OF YOUR TWISTED ENDEAVOUR TO OVERTHROW VOLDEMORT, YOU CAN JUST THINK AGAIN!”

“Bloody hell, she doesn’t even shout at us at that pitch,” Fred Weasley muttered to his twin on Hermione’s other side, his face paling and making his freckles stand out when faced with his mother in such a fury. Hermione supposed he had a point. She’d never seen Molly so livid. Not when they’d tried to expel Harry. Not when Fleur had fallen for Bill. Not even when Fred and George had dropped out of school.

“What’s she so angry about?” Hermione asked of Remus, leaning toward the werewolf sitting on her left, tucking her book away onto her lap for continued perusal later.

“You don’t have a choice, Molly,” Dumbledore informed her. “It’s not a decision for you to make.”

“Dumbledore’s got a twisted idea about how to better harness the power of the Order for the sake of taking down Voldemort,” Remus muttered to her, glancing at her out the corner of her eyes before his cheeks cut red.

Hermione felt a sense of bone-chilling dread crawl down her spine. She glanced at the book upon her lap before looking up as Molly pointed a threatening finger at Dumbledore, just daring him to push the issue. Most of the male members of the Order were avoiding eye contact with her.

“You think a nineteen-year-old girl has the maturity to understand what something like this would do to her?” Molly challenged. “You and I both know what kind of sacrifice you would be asking for, instigating such a thing. What’s worse is that you know that if it’s you who does the asking, she’ll agree to it because it’s all for the Greater Good, spun into a pretty web of bravery, purpose, and a sense of helpfulness should such a thing actually work. But what of her reputation, Albus? What of her future? What of the effect such a thing would have on her body? On her magical core? Are you going to be there when she ends up pregnant out of wedlock and has no idea who the father is? Are you going to hold her when she cries because the entire wizarding population calls her a villainous snake? A tart? A treacherous vixen? When they call her a whore, are you going to assure her that it’s alright, it was all for the Great Good?”

Hermione felt the colour drain from her face and she blinked when from across the table, Sirius Black lifted his head, his stormy grey eyes holding hers steadily. His mouth was set in a grim line, his eyes assessing her reaction; her stance; her body. Hermione felt her stomach twist uncomfortably as she looked away, the book on her lap suddenly feeling not like an engaging tool for learning, but a prison sentence.

“Do you have another option to offer, Molly?” Dumbledore asked mildly. “How many more Order members must we lose before you see that Tom is winning this war? How many becomes too many before we take action and strike back?”

“And just who do you propose would be helping me ‘strike back’?” Hermione asked, her voice whipping out over the din of the arguing members, stilling everyone’s tongues instantly.

Hermione rose to her feet, setting the book Dumbledore had given her on the table and lifting her brown eyes to level a stern glare at the Headmaster of Hogwarts. He looked away from Molly and her condemning finger to meet Hermione’s gaze.

“That choice would be yours, Miss Granger,” he answered evenly.

Hermione snorted.

“If that’s not a cop out, then I don’t know what is,” she snapped, crossing her arms over her chest. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, Professor, but the lads don’t exactly flock to my door begging for my attention. How do you propose I go about luring men to my bed for the sake of harvesting their magical power when I can’t even get horny teenage boys to look sideways at me? Maybe you’ve imagined some silly fantasy or believed the lies Rita Skeeter likes to publish about me in the Daily Prophet, but I assure you that the only person putting their hands up my skirt is me when I’m trying to fish out my wedgie.”

George snorted on a laugh, trying to cover it with a cough, and Hermione almost glanced at the twins, knowing they’d be desperately trying to choke back their laughter and failing miserably.

“And so, I’m wondering, sir, how we might enact your little plan to whore me for the Greater Good when no one’s stuck their hand up to volunteer at crawling between my thighs?” Hermione went on, knowing she sounded crass and blunt and more than a little waspish, but unable to conceal her fury that the man would suggest such a thing for her.

It wasn’t that she was a prude, or that she didn’t like sex, she’d simply not had a lot of offers. The sound of someone clearing their throat from across the table drew her glare and Hermione sighed when Viktor Krum raised his eyebrows at her, his lips pursed and his expression a challenge.

“Right. Yes,” Hermione muttered. “We were dumb kids and it was a long time ago, and you’re married to someone else now, so don’t give me that look. My point is that no one else has been trying to get into my knickers, and forgive me, but they’re not going to start now.”

Viktor’s lips twitched on a smile at her annoyance, always too happy to remind her what they’d had.

“Now, to be fair,” Fred spoke up from beside her and Hermione turned to him, eyebrows raised. “George and I have been trying to talk our way into your knickers for years, love. You just keep rolling your eyes at our offers.”

“You mean your offers when you’ve had a few pints and you sling your arm around me and try to insist what laugh it would be if I fell into bed with both of you. Usually when I’m reading something, and you’ve already hit on every other witch in the room?” Hermione challenged.

“Oi,” George protested. “It takes a bit of liquid courage and some bloody big bollocks to risk asking you out, Hermione.”

Hermione put her hands on her hips, her eyes darting between the twins, waiting for the punchline. When none was immediately apparent, she frowned.

Someone else coughed and Hermione turned her eyes to glare at Sirius, who was doing a poor job of hiding his smirk.

“I did warn you that you’re a tad unapproachable, Treasure,” he told her in an oh-so-annoying I-told-you-so tone. “Of course, you ignored me and went back to your book.”

“Sirius Black, I did not just hear you admitting to flirting with or attempting to seduce Miss Granger,” Minerva McGonagall hissed, narrowing her eyes dangerously.

Sirius avoided her eyes.

Hermione turned her attention back to Dumbledore. “Apparent cowardice on behalf of any who might have shown an interest aside, I hardly think you mean to suggest that I just go hopping into bed with people. I do have a little dignity.”

“Too much, if you ask me,” Sirius muttered from across the table before taking a swig of his whiskey.

“And I don’t think I need to point out that not only would engaging this idea label me a trollop, it would be short lived. No one wants to ride the broom everyone’s had a go of. Especially when they know they’re being used.”

“Exactly,” Molly harrumphed, crossing her arms over her ample bosom.

“How much of that book have you currently read, Miss Granger?” Professor Dumbledore asked her, nodding at the book he’d given her. The one about the effects of polyandry on a witch’s magical core.

“Enough to know why you’re making the suggestion,” Hermione replied curtly. “And enough to know that unlike Morgana, I’m not bent on overcoming my enemies via nefarious means.”

“Nothing nefarious about getting laid, Treasure,” Sirius grunted, and Hermione glared at him.

“Have you commenced chapter fifteen?” Dumbledore asked, and Hermione frowned.

“Not yet,” she confessed.

“Read it now, if you wouldn’t mind, Miss Granger.”

Hermione narrowed her eyes before picking up the book. She flipped to the correct pages and began to read, noting the complete silence around the table. Everyone seemed to be silently waiting and Hermione scanned the passage with her eyes, frowning as she read. It was apparently a section taken directly from a diary or writing by Morgana herself.

Perhaps the most useful side-effect of this type of coupling is the release of tension and the service it provides to those among my throng. The rush of sex itself is, naturally, delightful, but there is more to it. I have seen within each member of my throng that there is something inside of them that unknots as a result of our coupling. In the beginning, I thought merely that the rush of magic and power was as we’ve always expected sex to induce; a release of pent up energy. Now, I think it is more than that.

Throughout the coupling, as I harvest the energy and feel it unlocking parts of my own magical core that I surely could never have dreamed of unlocking alone, there is something to their release that feels profound. They grow more powerful, too. I feel it in the amount of magic I am able to harvest with each coupling. As they give unto me, I unlock in them the same power. It worries me, for I fear that if they knew their own growing power they would surely seek to claim the power for themselves. They come to me willingly, and they support my cause, but there can be no denying that as all beings surely do, they seek power. Knowing that I am giving it to them, and that they are bound to me is both a relief and a bother.

Soon, I am certain, I will have harvested enough to bring about the climax of my campaign. I can feel it thickening in my blood and I can taste it on my tongue. I taste their power, too, as it grows. They grow closer, it seems. In the beginning many resented the idea of sharing me, but now, despite not often joining in group sex, they seem more at peace with one another. Perhaps it is the bond binding them to me in this quest. Perhaps it is some magical link, the likes of which will surely bring about my rule. I know not.

Hermione looked up at Dumbledore.

“Your point of that would be…what, exactly?” she asked, her eyes narrowing. In her opinion, the Order tended to get along well enough on their own. She doubted that having a number of them all shagging her silly would somehow bring them closer. Outside of comparing notes and gossiping over whatever undignified thing she might do in the throes of passion, anyway.

“Camaraderie is important, Miss Granger,” Dumbledore said softly. “It also suggests an ability to sway certain individuals from one master, to focus more fully on something more rewarding.”

Hermione dropped the book, listening to it snap shut while her eyes went wide.

“Albus, if you’re implying…” Minerva began heatedly but Dumbledore held up his hands, stilling her tongue. His eyes never left Hermione’s and she knew without a doubt what it was he wanted.

“What if it didn’t work?” she asked. “You undoubtedly know the effects the ritual would have. On all participants. Luring loyal Death Eaters from Voldemort’s side would be hard enough. What would you do if they took the boon of power and returned to their master all the stronger?”

“You didn’t read the entire passage,” Dumbledore said softly.

“Luring Death Eaters?” Molly hissed, her face paling. “Albus, no! I drew the line at members of the Order. You cannot ask anyone to lie down with Death Eaters, no matter the cause.”

“The ritual is binding?” Hermione guessed, raising her eyebrows, her hands beginning to shake. Both she and Dumbledore ignoring Molly for the time being, staring at one another. “But I… there would be no way to undo…. And then they’d be….”

Dumbledore nodded slowly.

“With the combination of the power it would bring to the Order, in addition to depriving Tom his subjects, he would finally be overcome,” Dumbledore murmured, his eyes twinkling behind his half-moon spectacles.

Hermione felt ill at the thought of what he was suggesting she do in order to bring about such an outcome. Death Eaters. He expected her to shag Death Eaters. It was inconceivable.  It was horrible. She didn't think she could even manage with the idea of shagging certain Order members. There were just some things that she’d never imagined herself doing, and shagging a Death Eater was pretty high on that list. If she was honest, she hadn’t really envisioned herself shagging anyone. Not since…. Hermione shook her head to clear it before the painful thoughts could set in.

"So much for it being my choice," Hermione muttered, sinking slowly into her seat while every eye of the gathered members remained fixed upon her, watching her for her reaction. She wondered how Dumbledore had pitched the idea to them all that thus far only Molly, Arthur and Minerva had objected. She wondered what he’d said, knowing from the look on Arthur’s face, and the slightly pained one on Minerva’s, that it must’ve been convincing. The three of them had only objected out of love for her, she could tell. All three of them loved her like they were her very own parents, she knew that, and she was grateful. But Hermione could see upon even their faces that for all their objections over her dignity, her honour, and her safety and wellbeing they, too, could see the appeal of Dumbledore’s plan.

Having read even just the first few chapters of the book that the crafty old wizard had given her, Hermione could see the merit of the idea. The rituals involved in achieving such a thing were difficult and binding, not to mention dangerous, but the amount of power she would harness would likely be enough to bring down Voldemort, prophecies be damned. But was the cost too much? She might personally gain an incredible amount of magical power, but she would do it by leeching some of the power from the men she shagged. It wasn’t an easy process. Some small amount of magic and energy was transferred during any sexual contact, naturally, but this would be more than that.

Like a succubus right off the pages of her Magical Creatures books, she would leech the magical energy of her bed-partners and wield the resulting power as she saw fit. The catch was that doing so was dark magic, and that one had to create a bond with the partner in order for it to work. Anyone she considered this idea with would be bound to her, and her to him, as surely as anyone was bound in marriage or by blood.

"Albus, she's a child. Powerful or not, Hermione is a child. You can't ask this type of sacrifice of her. The effect on her magical core, alone, is enough reason not to consider it. Forming that kind of bond with one person in marriage is dangerous enough, to consider it with multiple partners without the protective enchantments of a marriage ceremony could kill her!" Molly protested once more.

Hermione felt the way Remus shifted slightly in his chair beside her almost as though he meant to put his hand on her shoulder in silent support before he thought better of it, his hand twitching on the table before he stilled once more. Her mind was racing as she listened to Molly trying to talk Professor Dumbledore out of this idea. A treacherous part of her wondered if the woman wasn’t somehow hanging onto the notion that if she remained unattached and untouched long enough, it might somehow bring Ginny back, or rouse Ron and Harry from their cursed and unconscious states.

The thought of Harry, Ron, and Ginny lanced her heart and Hermione’s fists clenched. She ached with the pain of missing them, and she suffered daily knowing that neither Ron, nor Harry, would sit idly by, as she did, were their places reversed. She’d done all she could to research the curses that affected both boys, and she’d done what she could to heal them, but some things were beyond the ability to heal and only the magical strength of each boy would save him.

Not that they’d wake to a happily ever after with Ginny gone. It had been a bad year, Hermione supposed, her nails biting into her palms and leaving half-crescents. The quest to claim the Horcruxes had cost them more dearly than they could ever have dreamed and Hermione knew that much of Molly’s protectiveness stemmed from a failure to protect her only daughter and her youngest son from the terrible fates that had befallen them.

"I stopped being a child when I got my Hogwarts letter, Mrs Weasley," she said quietly before the woman could continue and end up breaking down in tears once more over things she couldn’t change. "This isn't a question of relative maturity or of the appropriateness of the notion. This is... Professor Dumbledore while I'm certain you don't comprehend the gravity of your request, I'm wondering if you've looked past the potential benefits to see the drawbacks. This would be a big ask of the Order members even before considering the notion of using this to sway Death Eaters, too. And you're not just asking me, you know? You're asking many of the wizards in this room to contribute to this idea, too. They would have to have sex with me in order for this plan to work and, as I've mentioned, there's been little interest from most of them up until now. But let's set that aside for a moment to examine the less appealing side of this request. You want me to shag Death Eaters. You somehow expect that men who are so entrenched in blood supremacy that they joined up with a megalomaniac to persecute us, will inexplicably turn on their Dark Lord for the sake of one little mudblood.”

“Don’t use that term,” several people around the table hissed and Hermione scoffed.

“You can’t even stand to stomach the term they use to describe people like me and you think they’re going to want to touch me? To crawl between my legs and do unspeakable things to me?” Hermione rolled her eyes. “Please. I’m sorry, Professor, I’ve read enough of the book to understand why you thought this would be feasible in theory, but in practice your asking men who think I’m a boring, frumpy bookworm and men who think I’m a wretched, dirty mudblood to bind themselves to me and shag me on a regular basis. It’s not going to happen.”

“Just as you might consider doing this for the greater good, others might too, Miss Granger,” Albus Dumbledore said quietly. “A good many people in this world do things they might ordinarily not enjoy for the sake of something bigger than themselves.”

“Albus, she doesn’t want to do it and I don’t blame her,” Augusta Longbottom spoke up. “The poor girl has already been through enough, don’t you think? Cursed and almost killed in her fifth year by a Death Eater; fighting a war in the corridors of Hogwarts in her sixth and on the run from the Ministry and the Death Eaters in her seventh year. To make matters worse she’s endured the death of a girl as close to a sister as she’s ever had, and the aching loss of her two closest friends comatose and cursed for months, still unresponsive. She’s sacrificed her parent’s memories and a good deal of her own blood and bone to this cause already. Do not ask the girl for her virtue, and do not try to guilt her into agreeing just because there are others who’ve sacrificed more.”

Hermione smiled ruefully at the stern woman that Neville called ‘Gran’. She was certainly an impressive and powerful witch, Hermione could tell. Neville’s lips twitched where he sat next to his grandmother and Hermione’s eyes met his when he lifted his head. He held her gaze steadily, no longer the stammering, forgetful lump of a boy she’d helped in class when he was too scared of Professor Snape to concentrate. He’d grown lean over the past few months, having been right there alongside her, Harry, Ron, Ginny and Luna when they’d been hunting Horcruxes. He’d been there holding her while Ginny died in Hermione’s arms and he’d been there to help her get Harry and Ron back to the Order, back someplace safe.

He’d been her rock and he’d grown from friend who relied on her for help with his homework, to close friend whom she’d entrust with her life in a heartbeat.

“Harry and Ron would be screaming bloody murder if they could hear this discussion,” she told him softly, ignoring everyone else for the moment, speaking directly to Neville.

“They would,” he agreed, one corner of his mouth pulling upward. “Might be, if you go through with it, that they’ll snap out of their comas just to screech at you.”

Hermione’s chest tightened, and her eyes stung with the urge to cry all over again.

“You know what Ginny would say?” she asked softly.

Neville’s smile grew rueful and he shrugged.

“She’d be shouting whilst being frog-marched from the room,” Hermione told the boy. “Thinking about passing up the chance to shag a whole swath of wizards and getting away with it for the sake of the Greater Good? She’d be calling me three kinds of stupid for a smart girl.”

Neville snorted, and Fred chuckled softly beside her. Molly’s indrawn breath was shaky, and Hermione knew the mention of her daughter and the accurate projection of what she’d likely have said, were she there, had silenced any more of her protests.

“She’d be asking for pictures,” Luna’s soft-spoken and slightly dreamy voice came from beside Neville and Hermione met the blonde girl’s gaze. She wore a little smile, her eyes distant. “She’d be telling you to stop hesitating and commanding that you get her pictures to giggle over and drool over whilst asking for explicit details. And you’d be blushing and stammering and telling her it was none of her business, which would only make her tease you all the more.”

A tear trickled down Hermione’s cheek as she nodded, recalling the way Ginny had teased her mercilessly about Viktor when she’d been shagging him. Molly turned her face into Arthur’s chest when her tears spilled over, and around the table everyone looked rueful as they recalled the vivacious young woman who’d sacrificed her life for the cause.

She knew in her heart that she was going to do it. What was her dignity, her pride, or her reputation compared to the sacrifice of Ginny’s life?

“Who did you have in mind, Professor Dumbledore?” Hermione asked, turning her gaze back to the man who led the Order with a cunning that most people underestimated.

“Would you like a list of those I think would be most beneficial?” he asked seriously, raising his eyebrows.

Hermione nodded.

“You’re going to do it, then?” Sirius asked from across the table.

Hermione shrugged, getting to her feet and picking up the book Dumbledore had given her.

“I’m going to think about it,” she said. “And study how it works. And consider whether it’s madness or brilliance.”

“The two often go hand in hand,” Luna said quietly.

She pushed away from the table and strode around the people gathered in their chairs. When she reached Dumbledore, she held out her hand expectantly, awaiting a list of those he thought she should be shagging for the sake of creating a harem for herself.

“Actually, I rather meant to introduce you to those whom I….” Dumbledore began, handing her a rolled-up scroll of parchment that glowed for a moment, his own magic creating the list without quills or ink.

Hermione didn’t wait for him to finish. She couldn’t. The longer she stayed the more she was going to feel pressured to do it for the sake of the Order and the harder it would be to say no. She didn’t want to agree if she didn’t think she could handle shagging those he hoped she’d shag and she didn’t want to listen to Molly crying anymore, the woman’s tears always setting off her own grief.

She took the scroll and she strode for the door, her wand in one hand, the book under her arm, and the parchment in the other. She used magic to unlock the door, though why they bothered warding it when everyone was inside the kitchen for the meeting was beyond Hermione. There weren’t any children to be kept out of the meeting anymore.

She was halfway into the entrance hall before she realised that she wasn’t alone and Hermione’s wand arm snapped to attention, her body dropping into a duelling stance instinctively when she found herself surrounded by Death Eaters.

[celestianstars]

Protector

Viktor Drago x Reader

Warnings: angst, fluff

inspired by an anon that asked @dragothishole what Viktor would do if Ludmilla was talking shit about him and his s/o got tired of hearing it and slapped her like she deserves.

As soon as I read that ask I was like...yo I neeeed to write this so i hope y’all enjoy it ily!!!

——————————————————————————

Your blood was boiling and she hadn’t even been in the room for more than a few minutes.

You tried to focus on Viktor, wondering what this must be like for him.

He didn’t talk about his mother very much but since starting a relationship with you, he told you about how she left him and Ivan when he was kid and then again when he lost against Creed and sure, you’d never met her before but you already hated her.

You were more angry about it than he was which he understood, you were gonna have issues with any person that hurt him.

While he still sometimes struggled with how he felt about her and everything she had done to his family, he could really care less about her. After she left the second time around he decided he was done with her and any thoughts of having some sort of relationship with her, he wanted nothing to do with her.

It’s not that he’d let it go and was down to forgive her, he knew Ludmilla was vile and cruel but he just refused to let her have any affect on him anymore and would try to keep healing from the wounds her absence had left little by little.

You weren’t even sure why she was here, showing up completely uninvited to one of his fights. You figured she was trying to weasel her way into his life now that he was doing fights in America and was being recognized more by the boxing world but you were also aware of what she had been saying about him in the past year since the fight with Adonis and you couldn’t think about it very hard because it made you angry.

The fight had finished, giving Viktor another win and now she had made her grand entrance in one of the private rooms of the stadium, Ivan looking startled and uncomfortable and Viktor, expressionless as the wrappings on his fists were being taken off.

“Кто она такая?” (Who is she?) Ludmilla gestured to you, asking Viktor. Your Russian wasn’t the absolute best but he’d been teaching you and you were also learning on your own and could understand pretty well.

“His girlfriend.” you state immediately after she asked, your arms crossed over your chest, glaring at her.

“Oh! You speak Russian, very good! Nice to meet you.” she smiled as sweetly as possible and held out her hand but you turned your back and walked over to where Viktor was.

No way you were getting her evil energy on you.

Ivan spoke up after a second of terribly awkward silence, asking her what she was doing here.

“I wanted to congratulate Viktor on his win tonight but to remind him not to get comfortable. You still lost against Creed and he owns the heavyweight title. That’s what you want, Viktor, you shouldn’t be his friend, it’s weak of you.” she addressed him again and you swore you could feel your blood pressure go up.

Adonis and Viktor had been in contact since the fight and from what you saw it was a really good thing for both of them.

They both understood what it was like to live with their father’s legacy on their shoulders as well as being impacted directly by the night their father’s had gotten in the ring. Viktor found some comfort there, using Adonis’ support to help get him through losing that fight and to try and repair his relationship with Ivan.

Of course she’d think it was weak of him, it was clear she only saw him as a means to get more money and status and wouldn’t ever acknowledge the damage she did to him or Ivan.

“I don’t need to prove anything to you. I get bigger fights now, more recognition, I’m doing fine.” Viktor shrugged, icing his knuckles now.

You smirked at his response, proud that he was showing her that he wasn’t gonna play this game with her.

Ivan wasn’t about to say a single word, he was so far out of his comfort zone with this entire situation and while he definitely had something he could say in his son’s defense, when it came to Ludmilla, it was only harder to communicate.

“You don’t need to prove anything? Глупый! (Stupid!) You owe it to our country to be what your father failed miserably to be. They still drag your family through the dirt, it’s no wonder I had to take Drago out of my name! You will always be just a loser, a failure!” she snapped back, obviously not liking his nonchalant attitude towards her.

You on the other hand were another story.

You tried to keep yourself busy, wiping down Viktor’s chest with a towel since he was still sweaty from the fight, and making sure ice got applied to the areas on his face that were starting to swell.

You tried really hard to just let her say her bullshit and leave but each second she stood there and talked down to him and called him names you inched closer to snapping.

“How dare you call him a failure! He doesn’t owe anyone or any country a thing! It was fucked up for them to make Ivan leave Russia in the first place, it was fucked up for YOU to leave him and your OWN CHILD too but you’re actually gonna stand there and tell him that he’ll always be seen as a loser if he doesn’t do what you say? You’re wrong on so many levels!” you weren’t shouting but your voice was definitely elevated a little and your tone was full of spite.

The audacity she had to come in here and speak to your baby that way was beyond you and nobody was calling her out for literally abandoning her family so you were taking it upon yourself to do that.

“You have no business speaking to me of what’s right or wrong! Viktor, your choice of women is a disaster, why not someone famous….and with money.” she raised an eyebrow at you, looking you up and down.

“Maybe it’s because I’m not a greedy snake who’s only with him for how much money he could potentially make. I love him and would never leave him, like you left him, doesn’t matter whether he wins or loses!” you felt your fists clench at your side before his large hand covered them, trying to calm you.

“Alright, enough.You need to leave, Ludmilla. Disrespect me all you want but don’t drag her into this.” Viktor’s tone was stern, commanding even, his hand leaving yours for a second to gesture at the door.

He greatly appreciated your urge to defend him and call her out on her shit but he also didn’t want you to waste your energy on her because he certainly wasn’t.

He felt his anger rise when she had come after you because protecting you was like an instinct to him but he knew he had to tell her to leave at this point, nothing was going to be fixed this way and it was only agitating everyone.

“You’re a complete waste of a fighter! Ты позорный!” (You’re disgraceful!) she just kept talking and talking.

You weren’t sure how to even process this, she kept trash talking him and his abilities as a fighter and then connecting that to how Ivan was also weak in her eyes and you were nearly becoming homicidal from anger.

Tired of hearing her, you walked up to her and got in her face, telling her to leave like she’d already politely been told to do, not in the least bit intimidated by how tall she was at this point.

Not that it stopped her from continuing to run her mouth, she wasn’t going to take you seriously and you knew that.

“Viktor you’re the greatest disappointment to me…” she disregarded your presence and addressed him again but she didn’t have time to get another word out because the next thing you knew, your palm was connecting with her face.

You weren’t sure if it was an accumulation of all the trash talking or that specific thing that made you snap but there was no holding it in anymore.

You put all the force you could muster into that slap, satisfied with how she stumbled back and looked at you in shock.

“Do you even fucking hear yourself? He’s a disappointment? You have NO idea how much of an amazing person he is! I can’t believe you can stand here and not be begging for his forgiveness for abandoning him but instead you degrade him…” you were definitely shouting now, stalking towards her, making her move backwards as you continued to rip into her with your words.

Both Viktor and Ivan weren’t sure what had even happened for a second it all went down so quick but the sound of your hand meeting her face was sickeningly audible throughout the entire room.

Viktor had never seen you get this angry before, he’d seen you angry, but not like this, this was coming from someplace deep.

Just like it was an instinct to protect you, it was also yours to protect him and he admired your fierce defense of him, though at this particular moment, he knew he needed to take you out of the room because he wasn’t sure if Ludmilla would hit you back or do something else and he was ready for things to simmer down so he could go home with you and forget about this.

You were inches away from her now as her back hit one of the walls, happy at how shocked she still looked but not backing down from yelling at her some more.

“You don’t even deserve his time of day, he’s sweet and caring and the hardest working person I know and...Viktor stop no no! Put me down!” you felt your feet leaving the floor, a pair of familiar arms sweeping your legs out from underneath you, keeping you anchored against his chest with his other arm wrapped around your waist.

You kept screaming at her even as he carried you to the hallway outside the room, thrashing against him, trying to get out of his grip but against his size it was pointless.

“Put me the fuck down, Viktor! I wasn’t done with her, she can’t say those things to you! Viktor please!” you kept struggling against him even as he set you down, his body pressing into yours to keep you from running back into the room.

“Hey, easy, easy, calm down. I know you’re upset but listen to me, Y/N.” he tried to get you to look him in the eyes but you were pushing against his chest, trying to get him to move because fuck this entire situation, you were so angry.

“No! She doesn’t get to talk to you like that and get away with it! She doesn’t know you like I do and I can’t fucking stand her insulting you when you’ve done nothing to deserve being treated like that!” you stammered, still trying to move out from under the grip he had on you but your efforts weren’t getting you very far.

He really was a wall of solid muscle and as much as you loved that, right now all you were seeing was red.

“Shh shh I know, you’re right, you have every reason to be angry but right now I need you to calm down baby.” he cupped your chin and gently made you look up at him, your body finally giving up on fighting him.

You took a few deep breaths and nodded, knowing that you had just made a really big scene and weren’t thinking with a clear head right now.

“I don’t feel bad for hitting her but I’m sorry if that put you in a weird position, I just...I love you so much and I can’t just sit there and not defend you.” you sighed, relaxing against his hands.

He didn’t say anything for a second and when you looked up again you saw a little smile on his face.

“I don’t think you should feel bad either. It’s ok, I promise. Thank you for caring about me so much.” he pressed his forehead against yours, softly whispering that he loved you too.

A few more minutes were spent like that, Viktor wanting to be sure that you knew that while yes she deserved it, he didn’t want you to pay her any more attention because she wasn’t worth it and you eventually listened to reason, seeing his perspective.

Ludmilla finally emerged from the room, not daring to look at either of you as she stormed away, her face still visibly red which made you smirk.

You hoped she remembered that for a long time and would think twice the next time she wanted to trash talk.

Ivan followed shortly after her, feeling a mix of things from the conversation he had with her just seconds ago.

Things would probably never fully heal between them but he finally managed to say some things to her that he always wanted to say.

He wouldn’t admit this to either of you but he was glad that Viktor had someone who cared about him so deeply and you served as an example for him to be a better person to his son.

———

You watched Viktor get changed back in the locker room, laughing to yourself a little.

“What?” he questioned curiously, swinging his gym bag over his shoulder as both of you made your exit.

“Um...gosh this may be awful of me to say but...how’d my form look when I hit her? You think I could have a promising career in bitch slapping?” you burst into giggles, covering your face because of how red you were getting.

He didn’t know what he was expecting you to say but it wasn’t that and he couldn’t stop himself from laughing either, the deep rumble of his voice filling the hallways as you made your way out of the stadium.

“Oh for sure, you’re deadly. I bet you have mean right hook too.” he shook his head and the two of you kept laughing about it the entire way home.

You had your protector by your side and he had his, forever grateful that you showed him how much you loved him and believed in him on the daily and forever making it a point to reciprocate that love back to you as often as he could.

______________________________________________

Tags: @chaneajoyyy @dragothishole @themyscxiras @champagnesugamama

@dc41896 @dramaqueenamby @amirra88 @queen-of-the-jabari @fumbling-fanfics @tellybabes @endless00paradise @harduy

[thecreatvre]

on origins [part iv]

december 1981 moscow

[ 13:44 ]

It happens so fast; Kazimir barely sees the transformation, but the end result is... terrible to behold.

A strange chimera of wolf and gorilla, thickly furred, massive paws with enormous claws. No visible eyes. And strangest of all, long fangs glowing a dim blue in the lab’s light, multiple rows of them. The creature -- Taras -- is slumped on his side, flanks heaving, perhaps overwhelmed or exhausted by the change. His breath echoes with an engine’s rattle.

Kazimir takes a step back, clipboard clutched in his hands. “Taras,” he calls, hesitant. “Taras, can you--”

Taras flinches at Kazimir’s voice, and shifts. Thick muscle moving under shaggy fur, a paw lands heavily on the concrete floor, claws gouging in. Taras stands on all fours, unsteady. Opens his horrifying maw, and shrieks.

Both doors to the lab slam open, soldiers pouring into the room. They shove Kazimir aside, behind them, shielding him. “No, wait, it’s fine,” Kazimir tries, “he’s perfectly harmless, I swear--”

A gun cocks loudly; Taras shrieks again, a three-note war siren of a sound, bouncing off the walls, fur ruffling up to make himself look even bigger.

Everyone bursts into motion.

Kazimir catches only glimpses in the chaos.

A paw wrapping around a Kalashnikov, bending the barrel with horrifying ease. Sedative darts burying themselves in a shoulder. A soldier, airborne, hitting the wall with a crack. Claws opening up long furrows in skin. 

The sound, god, it’s all he can do to cover his ears. Short bursts of gunfire. Screams. Unearthly bellows.

And amidst it all; Taras, desperately trying to crawl his way under a table, lashing out only when the soldiers get too close.

“Stop!” Kazimir shouts, and maybe it’s the shock of being given an order by a scientist, but the remaining soldiers freeze. One, by the wall, isn’t moving. Three are putting pressure on heavily bleeding wounds. Two are cradling broken limbs. All of that, in thirty seconds. “Stop,” Kazimir repeats, breathing hard, “he’s not-- can’t you see what he’s doing? He’s not trying to kill you!”

He shoves his way through the soldiers, taking careful steps toward the table. Taras looks to be nothing more than a dark shape huddled underneath it, visible only by the cautious snarl of blue fangs.

“Taras, are you listening to me?” Kazimir tries, crouching down.

There’s no answer. No indication that Taras even understands what he’s saying.

Kazimir swallows hard, scientific mind working furiously. The serum had turned Rozalina’s brain into stone -- Taras, now, seems nothing more than animal. Is it possible that he’s transformed his mind too?

“Taras,” Kazimir continues gently, “do you know who you are? Can you tell me yes or no?”

There’s a rumbling from beneath the table. Then: “NNNN.” A clack of fangs. “NN... O. WHHH-OO... TAR-- AS.”

[ 15:12 ]

“It’s safe now. You can come out. They’re gone, I promise.”

Taras -- but not Taras -- crawls his way out from under the table, but he keeps his distance, pressed up against the wall.

“SSSSS... AA--FUH,” Taras garbles. 

“Yes.” Kazimir’s voice wobbles. “Safe.”

[ 15:59 ]

[ FILE TS-062, Doctor’s Addition: I can only speculate on what has happened to his mind. My best guess is that, like Rozalina, Taras shapeshifted at least part of his brain to that of a canine’s, doing away with a considerable chunk of higher intellect and memory.

He is clearly smarter than a canine -- he is capable of rudimentary speech, which I hope will improve with time -- but, in my estimation, he has reduced his intellect to that of a child’s. 

Two soldiers are dead. I don’t think Taras meant to kill them. Like a scared dog, he merely lashed out. Unlike a scared dog, he has a massive capacity for violence. I think the DNA from the portal creature’s has only heightened his strength. Honestly, I’m not sure Taras is even aware that he killed them. ]

[ 16:04 ]

“Alright. Maybe we should get you something to eat. That shapeshift must have taken an enormous amount of energy. Er... what do you think you eat, now?”

“EEEEA... T.”

“Any specific requests? Meat, I assume. Do gorillas eat meat?”

“EAT.”

“Well,  I suppose that’s a yes.”

[ 16:31 ]

[ TRANSCRIPTION OF PHONE CONVERSATION BETWEEN DOCTOR KAZIMIR SEVERNY AND CHAIRMAN OF THE KGB VIKTOR MIKHAILOVICH CHEBRIKOV ]

KAZIMIR: Kazimir here. CHEBRIKOV: Fucking Americans. Fuck! KAZIMIR: Sir? CHEBRIKOV: Don’t bother explaining. I already know what’s happened in the past few hours. KAZIMIR: I’m sorry, how did you-- CHEBRIKOV: Because the fucking Americans told me. Do you want to know how they told me, Kazimir? Do you? They have a fucking wiretap in your facility. KAZIMIR: What, how-- CHEBRIKOV: They want it. KAZIMIR: They want... it? The serum? CHEBRIKOV: No, you moron. The beast. KAZIMIR: They want Taras. What on earth for? CHEBRIKOV: The Americans are putting together some kind of team of freaks. I didn’t ask because I don’t care. The point is, they want him, and we don’t want him, because if the Kremlin finds out about this, they’re going to want my head on a pike in Red Square. And I like my head where it fucking is. KAZIMIR: Sir, he’s not an animal, we can’t just give him away-- CHEBRIKOV: Yes we fucking can, if we want to keep our lives. Get it done. I’m sending a team to secure it now.

[ 22:24 ]

The biggest dog crate Kazimir was able to find isn’t big enough; Taras is squished inside, fur poking out from between reinforced steel bars. The team Chebrikov had sent had discussed sedating him and forcing him in -- Kazimir had overruled them, gently coaxing Taras into the crate, shutting and bolting the gated door behind him.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, reaching between the bars to pat a shoulder. “Do you remember... no, you probably don’t. You told me that you wanted to protect your family. You told me that was why you were doing this.”

The shoulder under his hand heaves, jaws parting in something that isn’t recognition, but, perhaps instinct.

“PRO... TECT,” Taras rumbles.

“Yes. Protect,” Kazimir soothes. “You’re going to go to America. A team is being put together. A new family for you.”

“PROTECT. FAM-- ILY.” Taras sounds curious.

Kazimir swallows against a sudden tightness in his throat. “You’ll be good at that.” He runs a hand over the chain of the dogtags around Taras’ neck, making sure they’re in place. They won’t tell him his name, or his past, but they’ll be something. A token, if a useless one. “I know you will. I think, maybe, protecting your family is all you’ve ever wanted to do.”

Taras purrs, a strangely happy noise from such a terrifying creature. 

“YES. PROTECT. GOOD AT... PROTECT.”

[ end ]

[synkiller82]

Collapse Into Me Chapter 27 - Elated

Marinette sighed as she pushed away from her desk. She missed having Adrien sitting next to her, playing his portable gaming system or reading while she was engrossed in artistic inspiration. He had left a little less than a week ago, but it was still weird after having him there for four days. The best they were able to do with his schedule, and the string of akumas that showed up that week, was talk over the phone. It sucked, but there was nothing either of them could really do. She just had to be patient a bit longer, two days to be precise, until New Year’s Eve. Adrien asked her to go to Chloe’s annual party with him, knowing his father would give him the time to go. Gabriel never turned down an invitation to a Bourgeois event.

Marinette looked over at her mannequin where her dress for the party sat finished. It was a deep plum strapless dress with a flared skirt, all of which was overlaid in black lace, which came up over the bodice to a boat neckline and three-quarter sleeves. Below it sat a pair of 2-inch black heels. The pairing looked great on her and she couldn’t wait for Adrien to see her. She had made a vest and tie out of the plum material for him to wear, which he quickly agreed to when she showed them to him last night. She just had to get through a night of Chloe being, well, Chloe, and she had enough practice doing that. She just wanted to have a nice night with Adrien, Alya, Nino, and the rest of her class.

---

Adrien closed his bedroom door and slumped against it. He was exhausted from the day’s photoshoot, which ended up taking all day when his father added more outfits last minute. Sighing, he pulled away from the door and went to clean up. Dinner would be served shortly and then he had to get ready to pick up Marinette, Alya, and Nino to head to the party.

“Are you sure you don’t want to cancel, Kit?” Plagg asked as he closed the mini-fridge door. “You look dead on your feet.”

“I’m fine,” Adrien insisted as he walked back into the room. “I’m not missing this party for the world.”

“Your funeral,” Plagg grumbled, chewing on his wedge of cheese. He knew Gabriel had been running Adrien hard since his return from the Dupain-Cheng household. Every day he had photoshoots that lasted hours before he had lesson after lesson to ‘catch up from his lack of focus,’ as Gabriel had called it. Personally, Plagg was ready to cataclysm Gabriel in the face for being such an Indian giver. He silently watched as his chosen left for dinner, wondering what Adrien would have to pay for being able to go to this party tonight.

---

“Marinette,” Alya gasped as she gazed upon her best friend. “You are gorgeous!”

Marinette twirled in place, the full skirt flaring. “Thanks, Alya. You’re looking fabulous as well.”

“You know it girl!” Alya struck a few over-exaggerated poses. The dress Marinette had designed and made was a burnt orange v-neck wrap dress that hugged and accentuated all of Alya’s curves. She had paired the dress with black flats and she had pulled her hair into a high ponytail and curled it. “Now, let’s get downstairs. Nino just informed me that our ride is outside.”

“Please tell me Adrien didn’t bring the limo,” Marinette whispered as she took one last look in the mirror. Her hair and makeup would make 50s era Marilyn Monroe or Elizabeth Taylor proud. She originally protested, but Alya wouldn’t budge, saying that it was only fitting her makeup and hair matched her dress.

Adrien and Nino were quietly whispering to each other when the door above them opened and the sound of the girls’ giggling reached them. They both turned in time to watch their girlfriends descend the last set of stairs. Adrien stepped to Marinette’s side and held out his hand to help her down the last few steps while Nino mirrored him with Alya. After greetings were exchanged and coats were donned, the couples walked outside to see Adrien’s black limo waiting for them.

Marinette groaned a bit as she slipped into the back of the vehicle, still not used to the extravagance that came with dating Adrien Agreste. She would’ve been just as happy with his sedan or even walking, since the hotel wasn’t that far from her house. She reasoned that it was probably Gabriel more than Adrien who had chosen their mode of transportation, so she tried not to let it get to her. After all, if she became a famous fashion designer, married Adrien, or, best case scenario, both...she would have to get used to being driven around in fancy vehicles.

Before long, the limo came to a stop and Viktor let the four teens out, nodding when they all thanked him before pulling away to park the car and wait. The friends headed inside and upstairs to the top floor below the pool deck where the party was being held. The room had been decorated in blacks and whites, with pops of yellow every so often. It was very subtle for a Chloe party, but Marinette had to say she liked it. They had barely made it out of the elevator before the hostess came bounding over.

“Adrikins!” Chloe called, walking up to give her childhood friend a hug and kiss. “How are you?”

“Just fine, Chloe. You look lovely as ever.”

“You’re just saying that,” Chloe feigned bashfulness. “Alya, Nino, glad you could make it.” Chloe gave cheek kisses to both guests before turning one last time. “Marinette, good to see you found another gem in that drab wardrobe of yours,” Chloe remarked with a small smile.

“All for you, Chloe,” Marinette shot back with a wink. Both girls giggled as they greeted each other. “The venue looks wonderful.”

“Of course it does, Jean-Pierre made sure of it,” Chloe snapped as she flipped her hair. It didn’t work nearly as well with her hair down as it did in her normal ponytail, but she got the point across. “If you will excuse me.”

“Marinette? Are you going to let her talk to you like that?” Alya whispered as the heiress left to greet more guests.

“That’s just the way Chloe is. She didn’t mean anything by it. Ever since the whole Lila thing, we’ve been on better terms, but she still has her moments.”

“Yeah, she didn’t call you Dupain-Cheng this time,” Nino observed as they made their way to their table. “Maybe she is trying. I mean, she invited the whole class to her party this year and she hasn’t been nearly as mean as she has in years past.”

“She really is a good person,” Adrien remarked, looking a bit wistful. “She just feels like she has to be over-the-top to get attention.”

“I can understand that,” Marinette agreed, thinking about Andre and Audrey. They were always so busy, one being the mayor of Paris and the other running a global fashion magazine empire from New York. Marinette wasn’t sure if she wouldn’t have turned out the same if she was in Chloe’s place.

“Anyway, enough of this. Let’s dance!” Alya jumped up and grabbed Nino, dragging him to his feet and toward the dance floor. “Catch you two later!”

Marinette shook her head as she watched her friends find a place and start dancing. The current song was Clara’s newest pop release and Marinette found herself bouncing along to the beat from her chair.

“So, have I mentioned how gorgeous you look tonight?” Adrien whispered in Marinette’s ear as he placed his arm across the back of her chair. He noticed Marinette’s cheeks darken as she ducked her head. “I’m serious,” he continued. “No one can hold a candle to your beauty.”

Marinette swatted at his chest as she giggled. “You sound almost like Chat Noir, but thank you. You look quite dashing yourself.”

“You think so?” Adrien feigned surprise as he backed up a bit. “A good friend of mine, who happens to be an outrageously talented designer, made it for me.” Adrien added a wink for good measure.

Marinette scoffed, taking mock offense. “Well, maybe I should go talk to this ‘good friend’ of yours. Sounds like she should be your girlfriend instead of me.”

Adrien held a hand to his chest. “Say it isn’t so, Mari! You would break up with me over my ‘good friend’?”

Marinette finally broke into laughter, unable to continue the teasing conversation. Adrien smiled and laughed along with her, happy to hear her laugh again. It just wasn’t the same over the phone.

Suddenly, Marinette was yanked out of her seat by a blur of orange. “Come on, you two. Stop being wallflowers and get out here,” Alya huffed as she pulled on Marinette some to try to get her moving toward the dance floor despite Marinette’s protests.

Adrien shrugged and got up, taking Marinette’s arm away from Alya. “Allow me to escort you, Mari.”

Marinette groaned, but allowed Adrien to lead her onto the dance floor as her favorite slow song began to play. She shot Alya a knowing look, watching as her friend shrugged. She turned her attention back to Adrien and wrapped her arms around his neck while he placed his hands on her waist. They slowly turned to the music, and Marinette snuggled closer to Adrien, allowing him to wrap his arms tightly around her, both happy to have this time together after being apart for what felt like forever.

“Alright everyone,” Chloe’s voice rang out through the speakers. “Let’s head to the roof for the best seats in Paris to ring in the new year!”

Everyone excitedly headed up the winding staircase after Chloe and surprisingly, Luka. It seems that after everything that had happened between Marinette, Adrien, and Luka, Chloe had started talking to him and they hit it off. Marinette and Adrien were the last up the stairs and found a spot near the railing as the countdown began.

“Hey, Marinette,” Adrien leaned in, placing his chin on her shoulder so she could hear him better. “I can’t thank you enough for everything you have done for me over the years, but especially this year.”

Marinette turned slightly in his embrace, allowing her to look into his emerald eyes as he continued.

“You have been my rock when I felt like I was drifting away, my light when I was lost, and my hope when all I had was despair.” He reached up and cupped her cheek, smiling when she nuzzled it slightly. “I don’t know what the future holds for either of us, but I do know that I want to remain by your side through it all.”

“I would love nothing more,” Marinette whispered before the shouts rang out and the new year was ushered in with a fantastic fireworks display at the Eiffel Tower. However, they were dwarfed by the sparks Marinette felt as her lips brushed Adrien’s, sealing their quiet promise to one another.

[flimflamfandom]

Valentine’s Day

Hey, so this’ll just be a little one shot about everyone on the day...well, everyone who at the time this one takes place is in a relationship. So Viktor/Mordecai, Mitzi/Wick, Pearl/Lacy, and Calvin/Ivy. Happy Valentine’s Day! (Or, as I say, happy ‘Raid the CVS and hope they still got little Reese’s cups only they’re on clearance now day’ eve!)

Words:1737 Summary: Valentine’s Day special! Warnings: None, but it is incredibly saccharine. 

“Of course, then the Slaking of the rock can be an issue...I’m sure you’re familiar with the concept of Slaking?” Wick asked. Mitzi rested her head on her chin. She sipped a bit of wine from his private collection. “Does it have anything to do with romance?”

“You know, if you want me to stop talking about rocks you can just ask.” Wick said, smiling. A butler brought out the next course, leg of lamb and dressing with dijon mustard glazed carrots and, of course, this being Sable, more wine. Mitzi grinned. “My, you pulled out all the stops this evening...and to think I thought you just ate the ice at the bottom of the glass when you finished your whiskey.”

“It’s Valentine’s Day, I wanted to entertain.”

“And entertain you have...haven’t had this much wine in a while.” She ate a little, looking over. “So, the daisy’s doing very well nowadays.” She said. “We made nearly $12,000 last week.” Wick smiled. “Good! Finally getting back to the old numbers...do you all have an accountant?”

“Beg pardon?”

“A bookie. Someone who makes sure everyone gets paid on time...it used to be that Carmichael fellow, what ever happened to him?”

“Works for Asa now. I figured I could just borrow Lacy at the end of the month.” She shrugged and batted her eyes. “As long as her big, mean, old brute of a boss would be so kind as to loan her to me for an afternoon?” Wick sipped some wine, stifling a chuckle. “I dunno if she’d want to, something tells me she doesn’t like you.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Well, I mentioned I was going to be having you over and she insisted that someone else help me with work for the rest of the day. I had to teach Bix how to do interest math.” Mitzi ate a bit more. “Well, now, sweetheart, that’s just because she had to get ready for Valentine’s Day herself. She’s gotta try and impress that opera girl, she’s probably been all flustered and worked up.”

“I don’t understand, she’s just an opera singer.”

“Well, you’re just a rock mining tycoon. It’s all relative.” Mitzi said.

“True...wonder how her evening’s going?”

Lacy had been to big houses before. She worked in a larger one than this. She wasn’t scared of the size of the house, nor the decor, nor the expensive dress she was wearing...she was worried about the girl.

Pearl and Lacy had been together for a while now, but other than a few off nights where they were actually able to meet, they hadn’t done much other than hold hands and gaze at each other. Most of the time, unfortunately, they met in public; not much they could do there. But now things were private. Lacy walked in and handed her hat to the butler. The butler knocked on a door. “Miz Lacy Hardt here to see you, ma’am.” he said, opening the door wider for Lacy to see Pearl, sitting at a small table, wearing a white sleeveless dress and a large feather boa. “Lacy, dearie, come in!” Lacy nervously walked to the chair across from her, and sat down. “...evening.” Pearl winked. “Likewise...Daniel, bring us some of the, uh...collection.”

“The champagne, ma’am?”

“Please.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Daniel walked out. Pearl perked her ears high. “So! I want you to tell me about your day.”

“It’s been fine...I did a bit of work in the morning, and I’ll admit I spent the majority of the day getting ready for this.” Pearl nodded. “Was it accounting today?”

“Worse. Booking appointments.”

“Goodness, what’s so bad about booking appointments?”

“It’s just a lot of phone calls, and then you get another phone call from someone you just booked saying they have to change, and then the other one gets the time zones mixed up, and sometimes they have such awful manners!” She saw champagne come around, and sipped some, nodding in thanks and setting the glass down gently. “And to make matters worse I’ve essentially been teaching someone all she needs to know about joining the ‘community’. It’s just so time consuming!”

Pearl nodded and put her hand on Lacy’s. “Oh, dear...it must be difficult.” She said, looking into her eyes after picking up her hand. “But you at least have tonight to look forward to?” She winked, kissing Lacy’s hand. “I haven’t got much planned...dinner won’t even be particularly big. Most of it I just wanted to spend with you.”

“Oh?”

“We don’t spend enough time together, darling, I want to actually know we’re in love!”

“Dear, you know I love you, with all my heart.” Lacy said, smiling a reassuring smile.

“I know but it’s nicer for you to say it.” Pearl said. Lacy stood up. “Lacy?” She walked over to the dining room doors, closing them. “Lacy, what are you up to?” Before Pearl could react, Lacy was on top of her, gripping her and kissing her deeply, letting off a small moan and digging into the kiss. Pearl didn’t resist, hugging around Lacy’s waist and letting her onto her lap. After a while, Lacy pulled away. She looked mortified. “Pearl, I…” She looked nervous and started to get up. “I shouldn’t have done that without asking, that was wrong and selfish and stupid, I should-”

“Lacy.” Pearl kept her from getting up. “...do that again?”

She did.

Meanwhile, Mordecai was just getting home from work. He looked around the house and noticed something. “You know I asked for that key back since we stopped working together?”

“You never ask for key.” Viktor said, sitting on the couch.

“I did indeed ask for the key.” Mordecai sat next to him.

“You vant I should leave, ja?”

“No. Stay.” He nestled into the large man, his jacket hung on a rack and his hat next to it. He sighed. “I changed my mind about the key anyhow. I would just like to know why you came.”

“Is Valentine’s Day. Day for lovers.” Viktor looked down at Mordecai. “I figure I should visit.” Mordecai looked up at him. “So you decide to just walk in unannounced? What if I never showed up? What if I worked until 4 in the morning?” Mordecai sat up, heading to his bedroom and changing into a robe. He returned to the couch. Viktor shrugged. “You did not work until 4. It’s only 7.” He patted a spot on the couch. “Sit.” Mordecai did sit, and curled into Viktor, sighing. “I miss working with you sometimes, I won’t lie.” He crossed his legs. “The Savoys are good, but it’s just not as efficient.”

“You miss me, not vorking vith me.” Viktor said. “You hated vorking vith me, remember?”

“No, I hated the fact that sometimes you were sloppy. You weren’t always good at cleaning up after yourself on jobs, you never quite warmed up to the idea of stealth…”

“See? You hate vorking vith me. Is very obvious.” He said.

“Well, either way, I don’t hate you.”

“You act like it sometimes.” Mordecai crossed his arms. “When?”

“First thing you say vhen you see me is ‘how you get in’? Not even hello.”

“Well, if a stranger was in your house, you wouldn’t be too keen on just letting them sit there.”

“Ve’re not strangers.” Viktor said, smirking and rubbing Mordecai’s back. He kissed the top of Mordecai’s head. “Ve’re lovers. Lovers see each other on Valentine’s Day.”

“...I suppose we do.” He said. He kissed Viktor. “So, how was your day?”

Meanwhile, Ivy was slumped over on her bed. She was upset, wearing pajamas and a large, earth shattering scowl. Tonight, Calvin was supposed to pick her up, go rowing out in the park, go dancing with her, and come back to spend the night in her dorm while her roommates were away. It was supposed to be perfect! But Calvin went and got sick...very sick. It was the flu, and he didn’t want her getting it. She could hear his coughing when she went over earlier that day and Nina turned her down. And now here she was, alone in a dorm room, mad at the world, mad at those dumb germs for infecting her boyfriend. The phone rang. She picked it up. She tried very hard not to sound upset. “Hello?”

“Ivy?” She heard a familiar voice. “Calvin!?”

“Ivy! I’m very sorry about today...I thought you’d want to hear from me at some point.” Ivy sat up. “Of course, of course! How are you, sweetie? Feeling any better?”

“A little, aye. It’d be nicer if you were around.”

“Oh, honey, I know, but it’s better this way, we wouldn’t wanna go infecting the whole town!”

“I suppose not.” The two were silent for a bit. Calvin spoke. “You aren’t all alone there are you?” Ivy blushed. “Well...I didn’t wanna go out without you around!” Calvin giggled, then coughed very loudly. “You should. You deserve to enjoy tonight. My fault I went and got sick anyhow.” Ivy shook her head. “No, I really just wanted to go with you!”

“Alright...so do you want I should stay on the phone then?”

“Of course! It’ll be like a date by wire!” She said, laying on the bed, moving the earpiece to her ear and the receiver to her lips. “How was your day?”

“Awful, spent it in bed. Yours?”

“Awful, spent it in class.”

“Splendid, we both hated how are days went.” He laughed, letting out another big fit of coughing. “It was my History that I just hated today...I can barely stay up for it!”

“What were you studying in there?”

“Well, we’re trying to go over the Romans, but he’s just so dry.” Ivy said.

“The Romans were interesting, y’know.” Ivy scoffed. “Someone should tell him that.” The two talked for near hours, until Ivy finally stretched and sighed. “I figure this is costing quite a bit...we’ll wanna hang up.”

“How long have we been...oh...oh, it’s been 2 hours.” Calvin laughed mischievously,  sighing. “I love you very much, Ivy, I wish I could’ve spent all day telling you.”

“I love you too, Cal...wish I could’ve spent all day with you, too.” She sighed. “Goodnight, sweetie!”

“Goodnight!” She heard him hang up. She hugged her pillow, smiling, and went to bed.

[lavenderprose]

45 for victuuri please 🙏

Viktor isn’t even supposed to be in Detroit today, and it’s frustrating that such a seemingly-small snowstorm has grounded him in the motor city for the “foreseeable future”. Six hundred flights out of Metro Airport have been cancelled already, with more forthcoming, including Viktor’s ride back home. Yakov is somewhere in Saint Petersburg, pulling out his hair and screaming.

Viktor isn’t even supposed to be here. But the moment he sees Yuuri–almost six years to the day since the last time he saw him–his heart stops, and he experiences a brilliant, stunning moment of religion. 

Dear God. Maybe everything does happen for a reason. 

Viktor sees him through the large picture windows of a hotel restaurant and bar. He’s sitting with maybe four or five other people, all of them business casual like they’ve just gotten off work. It’s seven PM on a Friday, so that’s very likely the case. It’s also the Friday before Christmas. The lights on Woodward are casting festive shadows and Yuuri is wearing a large and comfortable sweater. There are poinsettias along the bartop every six feet or so. A large artificial Christmas Tree has been set up in one corner of the sparsely populated restaurant. 

It’s been six years. Yuuri has grown from the timid boy Viktor knew in college–his shoulders always closing in, his eyes always averting–and into a gorgeous man. He looks easy in his skin, although not completely void of a certain heightened self awareness. But as Viktor watches, standing in the falling snow like some idiot from a B romcom, he sees Yuuri laugh and drag a hand through his hair–a far more stylish cut than he wore when Viktor knew him–and realizes that he’s grown up. 

Of course, as Viktor’s luck as of late would have it, Yuuri turns around just in time to see Viktor mooning. His eyebrows shoot up and Viktor sees him say Viktor? but can’t hear him, for obvious reasons.

His friends look up, too. Viktor doesn’t know if they’re friends Yuuri had in college. He doesn’t recognize them, but that doesn’t mean much–Yuuri never really introduced him to his friends, in the few short months during which they dated.

There are three men aside from Yuuri, all of them dark haired and looking to be around Yuuri’s age–which would mean late twenties now, Viktor supposes. The one closest to Yuuri says something to him, casting a strange glance in Viktor’s direction. Yuuri nods, and the other man sets a hand on Yuuri’s leg.

Viktor thinks he understands what was said, then, even if he couldn’t hear it.

Viktor as in your ex-boyfriend?

Yes.

Yuuri, to Viktor’s surprise, rises from his seat and walks across the restaurant. Viktor, against his better judgement, meets him in the breezeway.

“Oh my god,” Yuuri says, casting a casually appraising gaze over Viktor’s person. “How are you? I can’t believe it’s actually you. What are you doing here?”

“Photoshoot,” Viktor says, shuffling his shoulders in an effort to seem nonchalant. “I was supposed to, um…I was actually supposed to be out of the city already, but…the storm.” He gestures outside, where the snowfall has yet to really pick up speed–but it will, he’s been assured by weatherman after weatherman, sometime overnight. 

“Oh,” says Yuuri, sparing only a brief glance outside. When his gaze returns to Viktor’s, it’s calm, but unsure. Yuuri used to practically vibrate with intensity. Too much emotion and not an outlet with which to express it–too scared of his own shadow to speak his mind. Viktor supposes that a lot changes with time and age. 

“You look good,” Viktor says, because it’s very true–practically an understatement–and it’s the only thing he can think to say. “Um. Healthy. You look like you’re…doing well.”

“You too. I’ve seen a couple of your spreads. The one in–in Vogue, that was really nice.”

“Oh,” Viktor says, and he wonders if the cold-flush on his cheeks will hide his blush. “That’s…nice of you to say.”

“I’m glad that…everything turned out well for you,” Yuuri says, smiling. It’s an earnest smile, if sad. “I was really–I never stopped wanting good things for you, even after you broke up with me. I hope you know that.”

Viktor can’t help himself–he physically takes a step back, as if punched or slapped. He blinks hard at Yuuri, who’s now staring at him in concern like he’s afraid Viktor is in the midst of a stroke.

“Me?” Viktor says slowly. “I? I broke up–broke up with you?”

Yuuri’s brow knits. “Yes?”

“Yuuri, you broke up with me,” Viktor says, shaking his head. “You ghosted me for like two weeks and when I finally got tired of it and went to your house, your sister answered the door and told me I wasn’t welcome. How is that me breaking up with you?”

“That was after you broke up with me,” Yuuri says as his expression furrow even deeper, progressing from slightly confused to definitely pissed with alarming deftness. 

“What are you talking about?”

“Viktor, you all but outright said you didn’t want to stay with me. How am I supposed to interpret that, aside from as a break-up?”

“When!” Viktor says. He knows they’re drawing attention to themselves, because Yuuri’s voice is raising and his own hands are doing wild things around his head, but he can’t help himself. “When did I ever say anything like that!”

“It was–I can’t remember, I think we were–were in bed.” Yuuri blushes, and Viktor watches it travel up his ears and down his neck and feels that old, familiar stab of want that Yuuri Katsuki has somehow always inspired in him since the day they met. “And I said–I told you I–I said something like…I can see myself spending the rest of my life with you. And I knew it was early, and I would have understood if you had just said–that’s nice, or something, because–yeah, I knew we’d only been dating for, like, eight months. I knew it was too soon to say something like that. But all you said was I’ve never wanted to spend my life with anybody, and then you practically got up and ran out the door.”

Viktor’s eyes widen. He remembers the day in question. He remembers it with perfect clarity. It’s the kind of thing that plays on repeat in his head when he has nothing else to think about, in frayed sepia tones like an old movie. “No. That’s not–that’s not what I said. Or at least, not how I meant it. And I didn’t–I didn’t run out the door. I told you I had something to do. That I had to go do something.”

“How else was I supposed to interpret that?” Yuuri asks, and now his voice is back to the low hush he was using before. More sad, now, than angry. “I said the most–intimate thing I’d ever said to another person. Ever, in my life. And you left.”

Viktor shakes his head. “Yuuri, no.”

He holds up a finger, practically touching Viktor’s lips. Insistent, but gentle. “It’s okay. I understand. I wasn’t–I wasn’t the most stable person back then. I wouldn’t have wanted to tie myself down to me, either. It was probably smart, what you did.”

Viktor opens his mouth to protest again–and he plans to keep protesting, until he can make Yuuri understand how wrong he is–but the restaurant side of the breezeway opens, and the young man from before, the one who put his hand on Yuuri’s leg, steps in.

“Hey,” he says, wrapping his hand gently around Yuuri’s arm. “You good?”

“Yeah,” says Yuuri, nodding. “I’m…fine. This is, um…” he turns his head away, and attempts surreptitiousness as he swipes a tear from the corner of each eye. He clears his throat, turns back. “Phichit, this is Viktor Nikiforov. You probably know who he is.”

Phichit nods, and holds out a hand. Viktor shakes.

“Viktor, this is Phichit. I…work with him.” With the glance that passes between them, Viktor knows that their relationship must be more than a working one.

“Ah,” Viktor says, nodding. “I…understand.”

Yuuri says to Phichit, “It’s fine. I’ll be back in a minute. Tell Guang-Hong to stop gawking, he’s going to sprain his neck.”

Phichit chuckles, and Viktor sees his knuckles tighten on Yuuri’s arm in a squeeze. “Alright.” To Viktor, he only nods.

When he’s gone, Viktor looks back to Yuuri and asks, “Does he treat you right?”

Yuuri frowns. “What?”

“Is he good to you?”

“Phichit?”

“Yes.”

“…Of course, but–”

Viktor nods, pulls his scarf tight around his neck. “That’s good. That’s–I’m glad. I’m going to…Um, goodbye, Yuuri. Merry Christmas.”

“Viktor.”

Yuuri reaches out a hand, but Viktor grabs it–takes it between his own, and kisses it, then sets it back at Yuuri’s side. 

“Merry Christmas, Yuuri.”

Yuuri bites his lip. “Happy birthday, Viktor.”

Viktor, despite himself, smiles as he walks back out into the cold.

–

Back in Saint Petersburg, the first thing Viktor does upon arriving home–aside from picking up Makkachin from Yakov’s house, and touch base with his agent who is absolutely losing her mind–is go to the bottom drawer in a seldom-opened dresser in his closet and dig past the contents–mostly memrobilia of college; pictures, old school supplies, a couple of documents pertaining to his first couple of modeling gigs–until he finds a small box. It’s blue velvet, the inside is satin, and on the center of the cushion is a ring.

Viktor vividly remembers the day he bought it. He remembers how excited he was, almost frantic. 

He remembers Yuuri being gone when he returned. 

Several hours later, Viktor is four shots into a bottle of vodka has the open ring box next to him on the table when his phone vibrates.

The text is from a number that isn’t listed in his phone, but it reads:

Viktor–

I hope it’s okay that I never got rid of your number. I don’t even know if this will work. You might have changed your number, but I had to try.

I don’t know what happened between us. I never really have. But I know that we’ve both done a lot of growing the last six years and I think, maybe, it would be good for us both if we got together and talked. 

I know your schedule is busy. Mine is too. But I really want to talk to you. It may sound stupid, since we only dated for a few months in college, but I’ve missed you a lot. Maybe the feeling is mutual. If it is, please consider what I said.

-Yuuri

(Oh, by the way…Phichit isn’t my boyfriend.)

The sound Yakov makes upon discovering that Viktor is returning to Detroit less than twenty-four hours after he left is legendary. 

[hufflepuffliest]

Love eyes - Jimin x reader

Genre: HarryPotter!AU Pairing: reader x Jimin, reader x bestfriend!Hoseok Length: 1.8k Summary: Reader (you) is afraid to remain without a date since the date of the Yule Ball is slowly approaching. Note: Timeline is in the Goblet of Fire, so I’m also using OG characters :)

The Yule Ball was the only thing anyone was talking about. Christmas night was approaching and couples were forming everywhere you looked. You were walking with Hoseok when someone got asked. The girl cried out a loud ‘YES’ in utter happiness. You just averted your eyes, not enjoying this at all. Your annoyance definitely had nothing to do with the fact that you hadn’t been asked yet. At least, that’s what you told yourself.

“(Y/N), why the grumpy face? Did you fancy McLaggen or something?” Hoseok grinned, and he playfully pushed his shoulder against yours. You looked up at him, a smile creeping up on your face as you got enlightened by the big smile on his face. That boy was always happy.

“Ew, no.” You reacted, pushing back. “I just- I don’t know. Everyone is getting asked.” You shrugged, averting your gaze as you two approached the Great Hall. “Well, I may have heard someone was planning on asking you today.” Hoseok spoke, making you snap your head up at it him. “Hobi, you know you don’t have to ask me out of pity.” You said, your voice quiet. Hoseok looked at you with a sadness in his eyes, but it melted away as his brightening smile made way to his face again. “Don’t be like that, I wasn’t talking about me. Although I do want to dance with you, so make sure you save me a dance. Pretty boy can use that time to get you something to drink or something.” “Pretty boy?” You asked, trying to get more information out of Hoseok. He just wiggled his eyebrows at you and ignored your questioning look. You then noticed the Great Hall. It had been completely transformed into Christmas mode. Multiple Christmas trees had been decorated beautifully in all four house colours and had been placed in the corners of the Great Hall. One large tree was placed behind the teacher’s table, towering over everything as if casting its watchful eye on all the students. All candles had been dimly lit and were floating in the air, creating a cozy feel in the room. You walked up to your house table and sat down next to your friends, thinking about what Hoseok had said. He was not just playing with you, was he? You sighed as you played with the food on your plate, and started dreaming about the boy you wished would ask you out. Your gaze started to wander and lingered as it set its eyes on Jimin. You stared at him as he was cracking a joke obviously only he was enjoying. Yoongi showed no reaction to his joke and silently continued eating his roast dinner, but snapped his head towards Jimin as he pushed Yoongi against his shoulder for not laughing at his joke. Jimin continued laughing, even as he noticed you staring at him. He made eye contact with you and winked at you, flashing his beautiful smile at you. You quickly looked away, trying to hide your rosy cheeks as you shook your head and secretly smiled to yourself.

After dinner was finished, you made your way to the exit of the Great Hall. All students were flooding out, creating a steady stream that slowly walked through the large wooden doors that were both the entrance and the exit to the Great Hall. You were lost in your own thoughts and suddenly snapped out of it as you felt an arm slip around your waist. You looked up at Jimin as he pulled you against him, his warmth making you shiver.

“Hey.” He whispered to you, and you pulled yourself loose from his grip. “He still does not get the concept of ‘personal space’.” Yoongi muttered as he appeared on the other side of you. The other Bangtan Boys also appeared around you, engaged in their own conversation. “There is no such thing as ‘personal space’ when it comes to us. I saw you making love eyes at me during the feast.” Jimin spoke as he cooed at you. You rolled your eyes at him and attempted to start a conversation with Hoseok. You wanted to find out who this ‘pretty boy’ he was talking about earlier was. 

“So, Hobi, my dearest friend.” You started, batting your eyelashes at Hoseok as you slipped away from Jimin. “(Y/N), love, your flattery is as see-through as Nearly-Headless Nick. It is not gonna work.” He spoke, trying to resume the conversation he was having with Namjoon. “But-” You started, but Hoseok shushed you. “(Y/N), I swear, trust me. He’s gonna come, but not if you keep hanging around us, although he’s not really the type to be scared by us.” His face seemed thoughtful, but then he just shrugged it off. “So, who’s gonna sneak out with me tonight to re-decorate the trees in the Great Hall?” Hoseok said, gaining everyone’s attention. “Yes, yes, yes, me!” Jimin immediately said, jumping up and down to show his excitement. “I already have a great idea on how to re-decorate the Gryffindor tree.” “I’m in as well.” Yoongi spoke, just nodding once at Hoseok, but he also had a mischievous grin decorating his face. “As a prefect I should probably report all of you, but I do want to mess around with the Slytherin tree, just to annoy Jimin.” Jin said, flicking his fingers against Jimin’s temple. Jimin screamed out softly in pain. “Hyung~, why?” Jimin groaned. “Nobody touches our tree.” Taehyung said as he rubbed his hands. “I have an amazing plan for it, just you wait.” “But-” Jungkook started to object, but Taehyung cut him off. “No one!” Taehyung glared at him, and Jungkook quietly backed off, holding up his hands in defeat. “Alright alright, I’m sorry hyung.” “The youth has no manners anymore.” Jin sighed, as he kept his wary eye on Jimin and Yoongi who were already scheming on how to re-decorate, or possibly destroy, the Gryffindor tree.

Suddenly you felt someone tap your shoulder, and you turned around. You looked up to arguably one of the handsomest faces that walked around the Hogwarts castle. None other than Cedric Diggory smiled at you, his perfect teeth almost blinding you. “Oh, hey, hello.” You stammered, confused as to why he tapped your shoulder. You hadn’t talked to him for some weeks. He was good friends with Hoseok, as them being in the same house and year. You sometimes studied with them or sat with them, just because they were so much fun. You remember a few weeks ago, when autumn came and it started to get cold, you were hanging outside with Hoseok and Cedric. You were having a contest on who could hex the chestnuts to look like the best-looking animals. Obviously Cedric won, but he helped you with your spells so you made a perfect looking hedgehog out of chestnuts.

“Hey.” Cedric spoke, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck. “How are you?” He smiled again, his warm, grey eyes inspecting your face. You didn’t know where to look, afraid to just gaze at his perfect face and forget to speak. You quickly glanced back at the boys who had stopped once they noticed you had vanished. Hoseok nudged you with his head, gesturing for you to continue speaking with Cedric. ‘Pretty boy’ Cedric. Oh. You noticed Jimin looked annoyed and saw Jin was laughing beside him. They were probably still arguing about their decorating trees plan for tonight. You quickly locked eyes with Jimin, but looked away almost immediately before you sucked into them again. You looked at Cedric again. He was still looking at you, a small smile lingered on his face. “I’m fine, yeah. Ready for Christmas break.” You laughed awkwardly. “I feel you.” Cedric said, a wider smile spreading around his face as you engaged in a conversation with him. “But first the Yule Ball, are you excited about it?” You slowly nodded. “Yeah, I’m curious as how it is going to be. Been awhile since I attended a ball.” “Right, me too. I heard the professors are going to give us dance lessons. Not that you need it of course, I saw you dance with Hoseok a few times.” Your cheeks started to heat up at that. He had seen you dance? When? “Oh, right, yeah. Hoseok is a great dancer.”

“So, are you going to dance with anyone at the ball? I mean, uh, do you have a date?” You just glared at him, unsure of what to say. “Have you been asked already?” He asked again, as you stayed silent. “Actually, yes.” Someone said next to you. You immediately recognized his voice, and you melted into his warm embrace as his arm slipped around you once again and he pulled you against him. “I’m going to take this beautiful one with me to the ball.” “Jimin.” You said, almost inaudible, as you observed how he looked at Cedric. It was as if he was ready to jump him. Jimin pulled his gaze away from Cedric and his expression softened as he took in your perplexed face. “Yes, love?” He whispered, his face inches from yours. “Be calm.” You whispered back, before you looked at Cedric again. Pretty boy Cedric. The boy who was actually having just as much admirers roaming the halls as Viktor Krum was having. The boy with the perfect face. But not the boy you liked. “Cedric, I’m flattered. I really am, but I’m already going with Jimin.” You smiled at him, and Cedric nodded at you in understanding. “Alright, no problem. I- Okay.” With that he left, and you did feel sorry, but you were also really, really surprised by the boy who was still holding onto you for his dear life.

“What was that?” You hissed at him, as his arm loosened the grip he was having on you. “You did not deny me, so you like me too.” He said, his trademark cocky smile appearing again. “Of course I like you, but that’s not the point. Why did you not ask me sooner? Wait, scratch that. You didn’t even ask me. You just claimed me.” “Are you going to be a pain about it now?” Jimin laughed. “Yes.” You said, but you couldn’t help but to smile as well. “That’s why I like you.” Jimin grinned, inching towards you. “What did just happen? I’m so sorry (Y/N) but Jimin just stormed away!” Hoseok shouted at you as he approached. “Hoseok-hyung, I think you just messed up their moment.” Jungkook said, calmly entering the scene. “Their moment?” Hoseok repeated, looking at the both of you, and just then noticing your locked hands. “Oh. Right.” “Hobi-” You started, but you stopped as you didn’t know how to continue. “Well, Jimin’s also a pretty boy. I’ll leave you be.” Hoseok winked at you, before he dragged Jungkook with him. “Now, where were we?” Jimin asked, as he grinned at you and cupped your face in his hands.

Part 2?

[indecisiveauthor]

Could you do the 2p allies reacting to their s/o who is the youngest out of a family of eleven boys,and she's the only girl. (Obviously it being a female s/o but if you want to make it gender neutral you can!) ((I absolutely adore your blog!))

That’s so sweet of you to say! Thank you! :)I’ll just make this certain s/o request female because you originally wished for them to be a female. Also because everyone could just switch some words out with their imagination if they truly wanted it to be gender neutral (I couldn’t help but notice this sounds like brothers conflict haha~) . Anyway! Hope you enjoy.//2p America/Allen F. Jones

Allen and s/o were currently standing at the front door of a fairly large house. “You asked to meet my family… So, here we are.” s/o smiled nervously. “What are you so nervous about Doll? Everything’s gonna be fine!” Allen assured confidently. “Well… I-” s/o trailed off. Allen took this time to ring the doorbell. s/o gave a weak smile as she heard the door unlock. Allen looked towards the girl who seemed to be hiding something. “Is there something you’re not telling me Doll…?” He questioned. “W-well… I’m just afraid about how everyone will react.” She admitted. “Hey, s/o! Finally got a boyfriend?” Her older brother teased. s/o looked relieved as the door opened to reveal one of her easygoing brothers. Allen and s/o stepped inside and looked around the room. “You just wait until (eldest brother’s name) hears about this!” Two other brothers of hers chipped in. They looked identical. “(Twin’s names)… don’t you dare.” s/o frowned. “A boyfriend huh?… Aren’t we lucky that we all just happened to take a visit today.” One of her other older brothers leaned against the door frame. “What the hell…” Allen commented in a whisper. “Allen, these are my brothers. I have others but they are either upstairs or away with their families.” s/o informed. “What… the hell.” Allen repeated. “Guys, this is Allen. My boyfriend.” She introduced, a feint blush appearing on her cheeks. “When were you going to tell us about this s/o?” A deep voice had interrupted the friendly conversation. Her eyes widened as she realized who’s voice it was. “(Eldest brother’s name)…! I-i was going to tell you but I didn’t know how you would respond…” She trailed off. “Allen was it?” The eldest looked at Allen with a skeptical look. “If you go so low as to break her heart. The only thing you’ll be feeling will be pain.” He warned. Allen gave a smirk and gave an understanding thumbs up. “Gotcha. Oh- and s/o… When the hell were you going to tell me… THAT YOU LIVE WITH A HERD OF MEN!?” Looks like s/o has some explaining to do.

2p Canada/Mattieu Williams

s/o had no problem with telling Mattieu anything. If she had a problem or she did something that could have upsetted Mattieu, she could talk to him about it. They have a very trusting relationship. Telling him about her huge family was no problem either, she knew Mattieu wouldn’t react badly. “So, you said you had a large family right?” Mattieu recalled, ringing the doorbell. “Yeah, I have to warn you… they are very hyper kind of people. So, news about me having a boyfriend is sure to rile them up.” s/o sighed. “I’ll keep that in mind.” He replied as the door opened. “s/o! Long time no see!” One brother smiled at her, casually glancing over at Mattieu. “Who’s he? Did you finally get a boyfriend?” He blinked. “Boyfriend?! No way lemme see!” Another brother came to the door. “Guys, calm down.” You laughed. “What’s his name?” The overexcitable brother asked. “Mattieu. Mattieu Williams.” He replied, reaching out for a handshake. “Mattieu? Sounds French.” Another brother commented from inside. “It is… but I’m from Canada.” Mattieu responded, following s/o into the house. “Oh! Canada eh?” An immature brother teased. “(Immature brother name)…! Knock it off.” s/o frowned. “Sorry… These are my brothers. I suppose the others are upstairs.” s/o explained, turning to Mattieu. “There’s more?!” He shouted out of surprise. “Better believe it!” Another brother nodded, using his sister as an armrest. “What do you think I meant by ‘huge family’? She grinned, rasing an eyebrow. Removing his arm from her, she hid behind Mattieu. "Stop using me as an armrest!” She pouted. “Yo Mattieu! You like hockey?” A brother called from the living room. “Hell yeah!” Mattieu replied with a wide grin. “Looks like we are going to be here a while…” s/o sighed.

2p England/Oliver Kirkland

“How wonderful Poppet! You have lots of people who care about you.” Oliver beamed in happiness. “Yeah… but they are all super protective of me.” s/o sighed. “Well of course! I wouldn’t expect any less from them. If they weren’t protective of you, I would have had no choice but to snatch you up and protect you myself!” He proclaimed. She smiled and rang the doorbell. “s/o… I see you’ve brought someone with you.” A man had opened the door, he had no emotion written on his face. “Yo s/o! Who’s cotton candy hair over here?” Another younger man came to the door. “Hey guys, this is Oliver. My boyfriend. Oliver, these are my brothers.” She informed. “Boyfriend?” A voice came from behind you. “O-oh! (Respected older brother’s name)!” She stuttered in surprise. “You didn’t mention anyone when you called…” He stated. “That’s because I knew you would have run a background check or perhaps eve given him a contract to sign!” She crossed her arms, clearly annoyed. “What’s so wrong with that? I’m just taking precautions.” He replied. “I’m pretty sure I am the only person in the world who has to have her boyfriend sign a contract in order to be accepted!” s/o huffs. “It’s not that strange. It’s just as if any ordinary brother was worried about their sister and wanted to make sure the guy was okay before the couple got too serious.” He spoke. “But no one went to the degree of making them sign legal papers!” She snapped. “I am so touched!” Oliver placed a hand over his heart, dramatically. “You care so much about her that you would go that far? I am absolutely moved!” Oliver practically swooned. “Huh?” s/o blinked. “See? If only you too could see things our way s/o.” (Respected brother’s name) said. “Oliver… Whatever world you are in, come home.” She deadpanned.

2p France/Francois Bonnefoy

Francois took a puff of his cigarette, turning towards s/o. “Your silence is slowly killing me.” She stated. “I 'ave nothing to say.” He shrugged. “I feel like you are secretly thinking negative things about me right now.” She sighed, practically trudging up to the door. “s/o… I am not upset at you. I just want to get this over with.” Francois informed, ringing the doorbell. “s/o! You finally came! Oh, you must be Francois! s/o has told me quite a lot about you~” A chipper man came to the door, greeting the two as they came inside. “He reminds me of someone…” Francois noted, whispering towards s/o. “Who?” She questioned. “Oliver.” He stated. “Would you two get over here? Francois is here.” The Oliver-like brother called to the two other men sitting on the couch. “Is zhis some kind of joke?” Francois looked over at you. “What….?” s/o looked over at him in a questioning manner. “They both look like Mattieu and Allen!” He exclaimed in a whisper. “Oh- They do… don’t they?” She looked at the two and compared them mentally. “I see why you are so tolerant of them now.” Francois mumbled. “Could I get you two anything?” The cheerful brother wondered. “I’m okay for now.. But maybe a wine for Francois?” She smiled. “Wine? I believe (Second oldest brother’s name) should have some. He’s usually down in the basement.” He cheerfully responded. “Oh… alright, come then Francois.” She motioned for him to follow. “(2nd oldest brother’s name)…? I brought a guest.” s/o informed, walking down the steps to the basement. “One moment!” A voice said as the room became brighter. “Is that… (name of wine)?” Francois questioned, walking towards a barrel. “You have a good eye! Yes, that is (name of wine)!” Her brother responded. “Oh no… Here we go. Once they get talking abkut wine they won’t stop.” s/o sighed, aborting the mission and leaving Francois and her brother to chat about wine.

2p Russia/Viktor Braginsky

Viktor’s sharp gaze upon the girl softened after he remembered that this wasn’t just any girl. This was his s/o and his alone. “You live with many brothers. Interesting.” He said as she practically sunk in the chair she was in. “Y-yes… I have a total of eleven.” She said, twirling her thumbs out of nervousness. “We should take a visit to your family da?” He questioned. This made her tremble a bit, he wasn’t usually the one to be so accepting to things like this. “Viktor, you aren’t mad…?” She wondered, almost fearful of his reply. “No. I’m not angry. I’m curious.” He looked over at her from across the table. “Curious?” She repeated in question. “Yes… I want to know exactly what kind of men these brothers of yours are.” He said, causing her to look over at him with a skeptical look. “Okay but please don’t hurt any of them.” She laughed nervously. (One long day at s/o’s house later~) “Are they really related to you?” Viktor asked, looking unamused. “Yeah… They’re crazy I know.” s/o walked towards the car. “All but one. I got a chance to talk to (brother’s name) while I was in there. He had some useful information.” Viktor’s face showed an amused expression. “W-what is that supposed to mean?” s/o almost gasped. “Nothing, nothing. I will allow you to stay in that house.” Viktor waved it off. “Its not like you could force me to leave the house even if you wanted me to.” She said. “Funny.” He replied, leaving her to wonder what exactly he meant.

2p China/Zao Wang

s/o had told Zao about her life with 11 other boys i the house. Zao took it just fine, but he wanted to meet them. “Zao wait!” She called out to him. “What is there to be afraid of kitten?” Zao said confidently, knocking on the door. “Don’t mention anything about what you do Zao… not one word.” She whispered. “But who wouldn’t want to know that I secretly deal with dru- I’m just kidding, no need to be so uptight.” He assured. “Zao, seriously… don’t.” She warned him. “Oh, you must be Zao. s/o told me about you.” A man came to the door, gretting the two. “Oh hey! Come on in guys! s/o, long time no see!” “What were you worried about? Your brothers are nice.” Zao complimented. “Until they figure out that a criminal is in their house.” She whispered in an agressive manner. “Your brothers must be big on the law then…” Zao concluded, sitting down in one of the stools in the kitchen. “Well that would come naturally if you work with the police.” She deadpanned. “What…” Zao trailed off in shock. “I was trying to tell you that one of my brothers is a policeman and another is a detective.” s/o sighed. Zao seemed tense, he nervously shifted in his seat. “Why did you let me come here then?” He questioned in a whisper. “I tried to stop you but you said you would just go by yourself if I wasn’t coming.” She glared at him. “Oh, right…” He recalled, falling silent. “So, Zao…! What do ya do for a living?” s/o ’s brother asked, handing him a drink. “He is a entrepreneur.” s/o buds in, Zao nods at this. “Oh I see. You’re not one of those cheapskates that rob people of their money right?” Her brother jokes, making s/o and Zao nervously laugh along with him. “Well! It was nice meeting you, but we were just in the neighborhood and wanted to stop by.” Zao starts to head for the door. “Whoa now! Leaving so soon?” Another voice surprised them from behind. “Yeah, we’ve gotta run. Maybe next time we’ll stay longer, see you!” s/o waved goodbye before pushing Zao out the front door. “Remind me to listen to you more.” Zao sighed in relief. “Yeah, it would sure be better for your health if you did.” She sighed, shaking her head.

[vitavitali]

Love is a Pork Cutlet Bowl

This is basically just @kiaronna‘s yoi frozen au and I merely worded it. Thanks for letting me write for this AU!

Now

Light floods the castle as the windows and doors are thrown open. The castle staff are working in an excited frenzy, cleaning the entire castle once again from top to bottom. They’ve cleaned the castle before, monthly actually, but there’s a spark to their actions that Yuuri has never witnessed before. It’s contagious and Yuuri finds himself swept up with their emotions, walking from room to room. The castle feels like an entirely new place to him or, rather, a very old place that he’s managed to rediscover.

Yuuri can only vaguely remember the last time the castle had been this open.

-o-

16 years ago

Petrograd was a beautiful place, especially during the winter.

There was a fresh layer of snow that had fallen just the night before and it glittered like a blanket of crystals as the sun shone onto it. The sight would be breathtaking for someone unused to it but Viktor had lived in Petrograd for all his life and so it was just another winter day for him. In fact, due to his ability to create frost and ice from nothing, it could be said that it was literally just another day for him.

The annual Petrograd Christmas Market was in full swing and Viktor enjoyed coming here every year on his birthday; it almost felt like the entire kingdom was celebrating it with Viktor. The joy and excitement of the Christmas Market also made Petrograd feel like a completely different place, full of life and colour.

As Viktor drifted away from the hustle and bustle of the market to take a breather, he noticed a boy with black hair, not that much younger than him, sitting down with his arms curled around his knees. Concerned, Viktor walked up to the boy.

“Hi, are you alright? Do you need help?” Viktor asked. The boy stared blankly at him for a long moment with his dark brown eyes before saying something in a different language. Oh. So he was a tourist. Viktor was the prince of Petrograd, though, and he knew quite a number of languages due to his studies, even if he didn’t know the language the boy had spoken in. Viktor tried a variety of other languages, hoping to find common ground, and finally settled on English. English wasn’t his best language, but he knew enough.

“My name is Viktor,” Viktor introduced himself. “You?”

The boy bit his lip and then replied with, “Yuuri.”

“Yuuri!” Viktor tested the name on his tongue. It was a nice name. “Yuuri needs help?”

Yuuri nodded shyly.

“Okay, then I will help you.” Viktor extended a hand and watched as Yuuri’s face lit up with a soft, warm smile. Viktor could feel a similar smile growing on his own face.

“Thank you, Viktor.”

-o-

Now

Yuuri can feel his heart pounding, can hear its quick and panicked ba-bumps nearly drowning out any other sounds present in coronation hall. It’s silly because Yuuri isn’t even the one becoming king, isn’t even standing apart from the rest of the kingdom, but he still feels nervous.

The doors open to reveal a tall figure with long silver hair, like moonlight spun into silk, in a loose braid. Yuuri remembers his eyes to be as bright and blue as a lake on a pleasant summer’s day, open as the sky and glittering like the snow. Viktor looks as beautiful as the day Yuuri first saw him, the day Yuuri last saw him, and all the days in between and it takes Yuuri’s breath away. Yuuri feels his heart clench and it almost feels like nothing has changed between them.

Viktor’s eyes sweep across the room as he slowly but surely walks to the front of the coronation hall, his head held high and his posture stiff and formal. His gaze lands on Yuuri for a split second and Yuuri sees frozen ice before it flits away.

Yuuri can physically feel his heart sink and chides himself for being an idiot. There is no reason Viktor would take notice of him.

There’s nothing special about Yuuri, after all.

-o-

14 years ago

Viktor was full of excitement. His parents have told him that Yuuri and his sister is coming over to stay with them in Petrograd!

For the past two years, he and Yuuri had been trading letters with each other using English and drawings when their language capabilities fell short. While Petrograd was beautiful, it also was familiar and structured in a way that made Viktor feel breathless. The dullness and monotony of everything stifled Viktor and Viktor only had Yuuri’s letters to look forward to every two weeks and now Yuuri was going to be staying with him!

Yuuri and Mari arrived in a carriage along with many luggages. Upon seeing Yuuri, Viktor immediately threw himself forward and wrapped his arms around Yuuri.

“Yuuri!” he said excitedly. “It’s good to see you again!”

“Yeah,” Yuuri replied quietly. “It’s good to see you too, Viktor.”

Viktor frowned and pulled back slightly so that he could see Yuuri’s face. Yuuri didn’t seem happy to be here and Viktor wanted to know if there was anything he could do to make Yuuri feel better.

“Yuuri,” Viktor said. “Why are you sad?”

Yuuri’s eyes were downcast.

“I’m not sad,” Yuuri said. His bottom lip wobbled. Before Viktor could do anything, Mari swept in to take Yuuri away.

“I apologise, your highness,” Mari told him. “But Yuuri and I have had a long journey and we need our rest.”

Viktor blinked and pouted but nodded in understanding.

“I understand. I’ll see you later, Yuuri!”

Yuuri forced out a smile in return.

-o-

Now

There is a party that, while Yuuri is prepared for, still dreads attending.

Viktor stands by the side of the hall, his figure a regal and intimidating sight. He makes no move to join the festivities and merely watches over them with a small and mild smile on his face that doesn’t seem to reach his eyes.

Yuuri wants to approach him, has been thinking about it and making plans on how to do so ever since he’s heard about the coronation and the party that happens after that, but when he thinks back to Viktor’s eyes moving past him like he is but one in a sea of many, Yuuri’s courage drains out of him like melted snow falling through his fingers.

-o-

14 years ago

Viktor had never cooked a day in his life, but he was determined to learn.

A few weeks before, Viktor had gotten into contact with Yuuri’s mother, Hiroko, to find out ways on how to cheer Yuuri up, because Viktor could tell that Yuuri was feeling absolutely horrible in Petrograd which made Viktor feel absolutely horrible too because what kind of friend was he if Yuuri felt miserable in his house?

Hiroko had assured Viktor that it was no fault of his but Viktor was determined to right his perceived wrongs, starting with cooking Yuuri’s favourite meal: the Pork Cutlet Bowl.

Viktor already knew that Yuuri loved pork cutlet bowls, known from the countless letters he’s gotten from Yuuri about the delicious food and the promises of eating it together. That had been something Viktor was looking forward to when Yuuri came to live in Petrograd.

Viktor’s first attempt at cooking the pork cutlet bowl ended up with sinewy, gross meat and Viktor knew that it definitely wasn’t up to Hiroko’s standards.

And so he tried again. And again. And again.

The castle staff started to avoid the kitchen to prevent themselves from being dragged into the kitchen and getting trapped there for hours in Viktor’s quest to cook the Best Pork Cutlet Bowl.

Yuuri found him on his thirty-sixth try covered entirely in flour and egg.

“Viktor,” Yuuri asked. “What are you doing?”

“Uhhh,” Viktor said, because he intended for the pork cutlet bowl to be a surprise.

Yuuri surveyed the disaster scene of a kitchen in front of him and asked, incredulously, “Are you making pork cutlet bowls?”

“Y...es?” Viktor answered hesitantly. There was a moment of tense and awkward silence before Yuuri let out a small giggle.

“That’s, that’s really not how you go about doing it,” he told Viktor, stepping into the kitchen. “You’re supposed to dip the meat in the flour first, not the egg.”

“But isn’t the egg for the flour to stick?”

“No, it’s for the bread crumbs. The egg would mess up the flavour of the meat and make the flour clump together.” Yuuri washed his hand and reached for the meat. He paused. “Did you even tenderize the meat?”

Viktor blinked. “What’s that?”

“What’s that--” Yuuri shook his head. “Do you have another apron? It’ll be better to show you.”

Viktor looked around for another apron. A member of the cooking staff surreptitiously passed it to him and then he passed it to Yuuri. Yuuri rolled up his sleeves.

“Okay, first you have to...”

Later on, when the pork cutlet bowl was done, Yuuri asked Viktor, “Why were you making these in the first place?”

“Oh, that’s...” Viktor blushed. “I wanted to make you feel better and I remembered how much you love pork cutlet bowls so I got the recipe from your mum and wanted to surprise you but, well.”

“O-oh.” Yuuri looked down at his bowl. “So that’s what you were doing. I thought you were avoiding me.”

“I would never avoid you!” Viktor gasped in outrage. He had meant it, back then.

“That’s, that’s good then.” Yuuri looked up again and gave Viktor a smile that made Viktor feel warm from the inside out.

“Yeah, that’s good,” Viktor echoed. He finally tried a bite of the pork cutlet bowl that Yuuri and he made. It’s delicious.

-o-

Now

Yuuri is going to melt into the wall even if it’s the last thing he does.

The only person Yuuri knows in this party is Viktor and, considering that they haven’t spoken in years, Yuuri might not even have that. It would be easier if Mari were here but she had eloped with a blonde musician about two years back and the only contact Yuuri had with her now was mainly through letters.

As it is, Yuuri merely sticks to the walls of the ballroom and wistfully throws looks at Viktor every now and then. Yuuri wishes he could talk to Viktor again but the memories of closed doors, silence, and pork cutlet bowls left to the cold eat at Yuuri too much.

“Good evening,” a voice says from behind Yuuri, startling Yuuri out of his depressing spiral of thoughts. Yuuri whirls around to see a young lady with long, curly brown hair and a pretty golden ballgown standing in front of him.

“Good evening,” Yuuri greets back, because he is polite.

“Do you care for a dance?” the lady asks.

“Uhhhhh,” Yuuri says. He tells himself not to look at Viktor. He looks, anyway, and Viktor is not looking at him. He feels that same sinking of his heart and wonders what he expected.

Yuuri turns back at the lady and offers his hand.

“Sure,” he says.

-o-

13 years ago

They laughed as the twirled across the empty ballroom floor. The silvery glow of the moon filtered in through the windows, leaving spots of light for Viktor and Yuuri to dance to.

“You’re becoming too tall,” Yuuri told Viktor, pouting.

“It’s just a growth spurt,” Viktor replied. “You’ll have one too!”

“It’s not fair that you get to be so much taller than me,” Yuuri said. Despite his words, he didn’t seem to be complaining. He stroked the long strands of Viktor’s hair that he could reach and smiled to himself.

“Well, since I’m taller than you,” Viktor began with a playful smirk. “I can do this!”

He wrapped his arms around Yuuri and, with some effort, he lifted Yuuri up onto his shoulder.

“Viktor!” Yuuri shrieked in surprise. “Put me down! Oh my god! Let me go!”

“Never,” Viktor laughed, turning round and round. “I’ll never let you go!”

Viktor’s strength soon gave out and they ended up a giggling heap on the ground, Yuuri sprawled across Viktor.

“What was that about never letting me go?” Yuuri taunted. Without missing a beat, Viktor wrapped his arms around Yuuri.

“Stay by my side and never leave me,” Viktor said with a grin.

“Isn’t that the name of a song?” Yuuri asked.

“Yeah, you got me.” Viktor relaxed onto the floor. “But I still mean it.”

Yuuri shifted until he was face to face with Viktor, still lying down.

“Alright then, I’ll always stay by your side, if you stay by mine.”

“Deal.”

-o-

Now

“I saw you glancing at King Viktor a few times,” Princess Chihoko says after their dance. Yuuri had missed the socially acceptable time to appear that he wanted to leave for other things. “What is your relation to him? I did hear that you grew up here in Petrograd.”

“Oh, that.” Yuuri smiles awkwardly with his mouth. He doesn’t understand why Princess Chihoko doesn’t seem to notice. “V-- King Viktor and I used to be close when we were little but one day he just... shut me out.” Literally.

“Oh.” Princess Chihoko looks sympathetic and sad. Yuuri kind of hates it. She takes Yuuri’s hands in hers and leans in close. “I would never shut you out,” she tells him.

“Ah,” Yuuri says, because he doesn’t know what else to say.

“Love is an open door,” Princess Chihoko continues.

Yuuri blinks. He thinks of his mother, cooking his favourite food in the kitchen during his birthdays. His father, sitting with him during late nights at the dining table going through lessons and sharing a steaming pork cutlet bowl. His sister and him, secretly trying to recreate the same flavour during the nights before their parents’ birthdays. Viktor, beautiful, uncalloused hands filled with burns and flour in his hair as he tries to make Yuuri feel better.

Yuuri gently but firmly takes back his hands. “No,” he declares flatly, “love is a pork cutlet bowl.”

-o-

10 years ago

Yuuri is the sun, Viktor thought to himself. Yuuri was the sun’s warmth in contrast to Viktor’s winter cold.

Yuuri’s hand in his was warm, Yuuri’s laughter was warm, Yuuri’s eyes were warm, Yuuri’s favourite food was especially warm.

Viktor knew how to create ice, control frost with simple flicks of his wrists. He could freeze and entire lake and melt it again with a simple twitch of his fingers.

Viktor knew the cold like an old friend, like it was part of him, but he never really knew warmth. Not until Yuuri.

-o-

Now

“Did you enjoy your dance with Princess Chihoko of Sachi?” Viktor asks. Yuuri’s heart almost leaps out of his chest. He didn’t expect for Viktor to approach him tonight and was solely unprepared for it.

“V-Viktor?” Yuuri stutters out before quickly correcting himself. “King Viktor,” he says again, more controlled as he bows. When he looks up again, there is a complicated expression on Viktor’s face.

“You don’t have to call me that,” Viktor tells him. “Just Viktor is fine.”

Yuuri wants to call him that. Yuuri wants to call him Viktor like he used to, like nothing has changed, but he can’t.

“I couldn’t, King Viktor,” Yuuri tells him. He takes a step back. Viktor’s hand twitches.

“Your parents say that Princess Chihoko is a good match for you,” Viktor says. Yuuri freezes.

“What?”

“You’re twenty-three now, about to be twenty-four. You no longer have to stay in Petrograd for protection. You can leave the kingdom for better things,” Viktor continues. “I assume that you’ll be going back to Hasetsu, to take over your parents’ kingdom, your birthright, since Mari doesn’t seem to want to rule Hasetsu. A marriage with Princess Chihoko would be beneficial to that.”

“Are you...” Yuuri’s head is spinning. “Are you literally asking me to marry a person I just met?”

Viktor doesn’t meet his eyes. “It’s not uncommon,” he says. “Arranged marriages do exist. And you can’t live like this forever, holed up here in Petrograd.”

Oh. Oh. Viktor is telling him to leave.

Yuuri stares at him. Viktor finally looks back at Yuuri and jolts.

“Y-Yuuri?”

Yuuri feels warmth dripping down his cheeks.

Viktor reaches out to Yuuri with a gloved hand but pauses halfway and pulls it back. Yuuri grabs onto him but he only succeeds in pulling the glove off of Viktor’s hand.

“Yuuri, please give me back my glove,” Viktor says slowly, warily.

“Are you telling me to leave?” Yuuri asks.

“No, of course not!” Viktor says hurriedly. “Only if you want to! Please give me back my glove, Yuuri.”

“Then why would you say something like that, like you’re trying to test me?!” Yuuri shouts.

“Yuuri--”

“You once told me to stay by your side, and never leave. Was that a lie? Do you regret that now?!”

“It, it isn’t that simple, Yuuri,” Viktor says with an exasperated sigh. He places a hand on his forehead, as if he has a headache. “You don’t understand.”

“Then help me understand, Viktor!” Yuuri isn’t above begging. “Just tell me--”

“I can’t!” Viktor yells and Yuuri is stunned into silence. Viktor never yells.

Cold seeps through him and it takes a while to realise that it isn’t just emotional.

The entire ballroom floor is covered with a layer of ice, and the thickest part of it is where Viktor is. Small sparks of blue slowly fade from Viktor’s ungloved hand and Viktor stumbles back.

“Viktor,” Yuuri begins. He takes a step forward but Viktor runs away. Ice begins to climb the walls of the ballroom, spikes sticking out of them. The air turns colder and colder, and Yuuri can see his own breath. Behind him, someone sighs.

“Worst surprise ever,” Duke JJ declares.

-o-

14 years ago

“Father says that the earliest I can be coronated and become King is at eighteen,” Viktor said to Yuuri.

“And the latest?”

Viktor wrinkled his nose. “Who cares about that,” he said. “Why would I want to push back my coronation?”

“I don’t know,” Yuuri replied. “I can think of a lot of reasons on why I would want to push back my coronation.”

“But there’s so many things you could do when you’re king!” Viktor exclaimed. “You could make is legal for people to take dogs anywhere they want! You could make it illegal for parents to prevent their children from getting dogs!” Viktor still wasn’t over the fact that his parents refused to let him adopt a dog. “What would you want to do, if you were king?” Viktor asked Yuuri.

“Pork cutlet bowls,” Yuuri said quietly.

“What?”

“Pork cutlet bowls,” Yuuri said, louder this time. He looked at Viktor straight in the eye. “I want to eat pork cutlet bowls with you every day.”

“Wow!” Viktor felt his face flush and placed his hands on either side of his face. “That almost sounds like a marriage proposal.”

“Haha,” Yuuri laughed sheepishly. “It kind of does, doesn’t it?”

“I accept!” Viktor said with a grin. “You’re my fiancee now, no take backs!”

“Viktor!” Yuuri groaned, but he didn’t say anything else. Viktor could feel his heart beating rapidly in his chest.

Viktor felt so, so warm. He wanted to feel like that always.

Stuff that i really didn’t want to be missed:

Viktor: “And you can’t live like this forever, holed up here in Petrograd.”

vs

Anna: “I can’t live like this anymore!”

Elsa: “Then leave.”

[r-herring]

TRFL Chapter 12 in GIFs

TRFL Chapter 12 AKA The 8th Level of Hell Chapter (Chapter 11 was the 9th level, obvs) Huh. Actually, the Much Fluffier Than Expected Chapter.

*Walks in late to the party* “Sorry, guys. I was held up at wo—”

Sooo…These Tumblr reactions sure are interesting, @adreamingsongbird. 

*Opens Chapter 12* Let’s see what’s cooking in the latest installment of Rimi’s Inferno TRFL. *Braces self*

~~Let us begin under the cut!~~

Notes: Warning for some violence and dark themes (related to blood magic) this chapter.

We’re off to a good start. My inner angst glutton will be well fed today.

Also, dark blood magic! Will I finally get my questions about Mysterious He/Him Pronouned Blood Mage™ answered?

We open in Hinomoto, where everyone is understandably pissed and possessing of various degrees of self-restraint.

^Above: The first scene of TRFL Chapter 12 reenacted with Timon in the role of Sister!Mari and Pumba in the role of Crown Princess!Mari. The inner struggle is real.

When Yuuri gets home, she’s gonna ruffle his hair and take him to go sit out on the beach for a while.  He’ll probably cry—darling little Yuuri has always cried so easily—but he’ll feel better, after a little while.  And there’s always a place for him here, in his home court.  He’ll just pick up where he left off almost a year ago.

Mari’s opinion, sans knowledge of 16000-ish words of character development for Yuuri.

 Something just doesn’t add up here.  Either Yuuri was wrong about Nikiforov loving him, or there’s more to this story.  Mari isn’t sure which of these things she’s more inclined to believe, but she thinks she’s leaning toward the former. 

Yuuri has always been a romantic; he might’ve just been seeing what he so desperately wanted to be true.

I just hope they believe Yuuri when he shows up back home asking for Minako’s help—assuming she knows more about philology than Yuuri. Or maybe her wife does? New character! Yay! Anyway, I just assumed they’d take him at his word that something is afoot in Ruthenia and the only barrier to a potential rescue op are the dangers associated with interfering in the business of a foreign court, but now I’m not so sure…

“I guess,” Mari says.  “I mean, if he needs saving, someone’s gotta do it.”

I get this is totally big sister protectiveness, but—so little faith in Yuuri’s ability to save himself (and others)! 

Yuri Plisetsky is, to put things lightly, going to go kick his cousin’s ass all the way to fucking Jupiter and back with a steel-toed boot.

 Everyone’s gunning for poor Viktor.

“I can’t tell you,” Viktor says immediately.  He sighs, raking a hand through his hair, but it runs into his crown, and he sighs again, weary, as he reaches up to adjust it back into place.

“You couldn’t tell Katsudon, either,” Yuri snorts.  “That’s ridiculous.  Who can you tell, then?”

“Nobody,” Viktor says. 

Viktor, finding sneaky ways around the block. To bad Yuri has no idea how literal Viktor’s statement is.

“He deserves far more than that,” Viktor agrees.  He looks like he’s going to launch into another stupid sappy monologue about how wonderful Katsudon is, like he used to all the time, except … he doesn’t. 

 Huh, Yuri realizes.  Guess he’s never gonna text me like that again.

As much as he wants to pretend that that’s a relief, it really just leaves him feeling cold inside.

Me too, Yuri. Me too.

Ever since his aunt’s death, the palace has felt like a prison, full of pressure and eyes everywhere.  Yuri hates being Crown Prince.

Lots of pressure. Lots of eyes. Lots of ears. Be careful, Yuri! I do wonder if Ivanovich will try and start the process of ‘winning’ Yuri over to their side (good luck with that) before he leaves to visit Otabek. So far, Yuri’s oblivious and, after Yuuri, he’s the one with the most pieces to the puzzle. I mean, the second Yuuri has a relatively calm moment around Viktor—if he gets one—he’s going to figure it out. But if he doesn’t get that moment, it’s on Yuri.

Also, I thought reading ‘King Nikiforov’ was weird. Reading Crown Prince Yuri is also weird. Their new titles are going to take some getting used to.

“You didn’t answer my questions or give me anything I came in here for,” Yuri points out, scowling at him again.  There’s no anger behind it this time, though.  This is just… what’s familiar.  Viktor is cold, and Yuri provides heat.  It’s their own endless cycle, going for years and years.  In some way, Yuri knows that Viktor is aware that his gestures of ire are actually communicating fondness.  Sort of.  Kind of.  In a way, mind you.

All in all, Viktor is just a constant in his life.  It’s jarring, seeing him like this again after how happy he looked just a few weeks ago, but at least this is a Viktor Yuri knows how to deal with.

“No,” Viktor hums softly, pen already scritch-scritching away at his papers again in a clear dismissal.  “I suppose I didn’t.”

Yuri closes the door much more quietly on his way out.

…And he’s leaving. Packing. The tea set isn’t coming home with him, though.  He’s leaving it for Viktor, as… as something to remember him by.  After everything, Yuuri just… he just really hopes Viktor doesn’t forget about him.

 Yuuri: “I’ll never forget ‘em. But he forgot me a long, long time ago.”

 Viktor:

You know it’s getting angsty when I pull out the Jurassic Bark references.

 He shakes his head to himself.  Something just feels… wrong. That entire conversation, that night, it felt wrong, too, and not just because of how desperately he didn’t want it to be happening. The heavy, nauseating terror of the badwrongbad feeling is still there, hanging oppressively through the palace, and it has only gotten stronger since the Queen’s death, if anything. 

Which makes Yuuri not only sad but also very, very suspicious. 

So close!!! You’ve almost got it, Yuuri! He just needs some Viktor contact with a relatively calm mind and it’ll click. I believe in our Katsudon!

Oh, to hell with this.  He’s leaving soon enough. He might as well just go try, one last time. Do you trust me? Viktor asked, that night, that awful night, and Yuuri’s answer, heartwrenching as it feels to admit, has not changed. I do.

YEEEESSS!!! This is also very sad. BUT ALSO YES!

I still love him, he thinks to himself, weary and sad.  And the pain Viktor has felt every time they’ve been together now, well… Yuuri is pretty sure Viktor still loves him, too.  The more he thinks about this, today now that he’s past the initial shock and panic and turmoil, the less comfortable he feels!  Something is so clearly, obviously wrong.  Viktor needs him.  Especially now with Georgi and Yuri leaving for a while—why the hell is Yuuri leaving, too?

That settles it, really.  He has to go talk to Viktor again.  Something has to be wrong.  He’s not just making this up to make himself feel better about being unwanted, about not being good enough after all.  That’s his anxiety talking, right?  Right.  Of course. 

He was trying his hardest to support Viktor, and he thought it was working, and sure, maybe he was neglecting himself in the process and that’s why he just broke down and didn’t think to ask more than “why?” that night, but… but they were good together, they were!  He’s sure of it.

Oh, Yuuri.

…unless that niggling little voice of doubt in the back of his mind is right, and there’s something even more wrong than he feared here, but he has to admit he doesn’t really want to entertain that possibility. 

ENTERTAIN THAT POSSIBILITY, YUURI! ENTERTAIN THE SHIT OUT OF THAT POSSIBILITY.

Yes.  Yes, okay.  That’s the plan.  Go to Viktor, have a calm talk, understand, leave.  And hope that next time, if there is a next time, will go better.  He might get married off to someone else entirely, if the alliance completely falls apart, as it well may.  He doesn’t know if… he doesn’t know if he could fall in love with someone else the way he loved—loves—Viktor, but he could certainly strive for a functional, working relationship.

One last talk with his Vitya.

Damn…

Alright.  One last talk with—

One last talk with King Nikiforov.

And I thought ‘King Nikiforov’ sounded strange before. It’s downright wrong coming from Yuuri.

“His Majesty isn’t available,” one of the guards says.  Yuuri sighs, idly wondering whether it’s just his paranoia or if the guards feel like the general Petersburg Palace off-putting vibe, and turns.

“Why not?” he asks, raising one eyebrow delicately.  Viktor is in his chambers, he can tell, and it seems like someone’s in there with him.  The fact that it’s someone with an emotional shield up makes him suspicious—Ivanovich is one of the only people in the court who does that.  His shield seemed lackluster a while ago, but it’s tightened again, and Yuuri can’t help but wonder why. 

Oh boy… here we go. Ivanovich uses an emotional shield confirmed! I’m going to guess that Ivanovich’s emotional shield is stronger now because he doesn’t have to use a translator spell to communicate with Viktor.

“I just want to talk to him.  I know I’m missing something here, and I want him to tell me what.”

Good luck with that, Yuuri. I think you’ll find him quite mum on the subject.

I have a feeling it’s Lord Ivanovich, he wants to say, but he can’t say that in front of Prince Altin without revealing that he’s an empath, and while Altin has Yuri’s vote of confidence, Yuuri is still leery of divulging that particular little tidbit unnecessarily. 

Bhahaha. Poor Otabek, the unwitting plot device. Will Yuuri get time to tell Yuri what he knows?

Oh, to hell with being a good prince.

Huh. I thought for sure the first time I finally broke and used a Frozen-related GIF it’d be for Viktor, you know, the ice prince. Guess not. 

“Like hell you are!” Viktor snarls, and there’s a thud, as if he just slammed a cup down onto his desk.  Yuuri flinches reflexively.  “You call what you did to—”

Confusion slams into Viktor like a freight train, or a tsunami, wiping everything clean from his mind and washing it into a turbulent sea.  He’s left grasping for driftwood, strains of thought swirling this way and that, and Yuuri, frozen outside the door with wide, wide eyes is left reeling. 

This—this happened to Viktor the night they broke up, but in his distress, he didn’t recognize it for what it was.  But now he sees it and feels it and knows it, and he cannot breathe.

A philological chokehold.  A stranglespell, as Minako-sensei called them. 

Oh my god.

“Prince Katsuki is going home,” Viktor hisses, his voice raw and angry and hurt, and Yuuri’s heart twinges painfully in his chest.  “He’s going home, and you won’t fucking touch him.”

“Such foul language, Your Majesty,” Ivanovich observes.  His voice hardens.  “I warned you not to try and get in my way, Viktor.  I told you that I was willing to work with you on certain things.  That you could keep your title and your palace, so long as we do what is best for Ruthenia.  You let your emotions cloud your judgment.  Think objectively, if you will, of what you just lost for us.  You and all your hardheaded spontaneous thinking… do you even realize what an opportunity we had?”

“An opportunity,” Viktor bites out.  “Accusing an innocent man of murder is not what I would call an opportunity, Alexei.”

An innocent…

Yuuri’s head starts to spin.  Or rather—it continues to spin, speeding up on the way.  Stranglespell.  Innocent.  Promised to protect me—oh god, oh god, oh god, Vitya, what have you done—

YEEEESSSS!!! OUR KATSUDON HAS SEEN THE LIGHT!!! CAN I GET A HALLELUJAH?!

“I think we have a surprise visitor,” he says, sounding dangerously displeased.

Okay, I don’t think Ivanovich’s hearing is good enough to pick up on heavy breathing through a wall. So how the heck did he know Yuuri was there? Is he a relatively unskilled empath (only picks up on very strong emotions, i.e., Yuuri’s panic at his discovery) in addition to a likely…Philologist? Did I spell that right? Veeeery suspicious indeed.

Ivanovich is a philologist.  Ivanovich put a stranglespell on Viktor.

Ahaha, literally 100-ish words later, I get my answer (and a reminder on the correct spelling)! It’s like you can read minds, Rimi.

^Me @ Rimi

Still waiting on Mysterious He/Him Pronouned Blood Mage™ though. It’s driving me nuts!!!

Logically, Yuuri knows that even though he hasn’t the faintest idea of how to cast, manipulate, or lift stranglespells on his own and that they are very complex and that he would need to do a lot of work and research to be able to help Viktor, his own mental blocks will keep him safe from having a stranglespell put on him. 

Logic is flimsy protection against anxiety, and he’s terrified anyway.

“Hmm… no, no.  I think I’m done here, anyway,” Ivanovich says, smiling thinly as he turns away.  It doesn’t reach his eyes.  “But thank you for your courtesy, Your Highness.  It suits you.  I wish you all the best for your trip back to Hinomoto tomorrow.”

“Thank you,” Yuuri says, and he keeps his eyes on the man’s back until he’s gone.  The door closes with a loud thud behind him.

Assuming I’m onto something with the “Ivanovich’s empathetic shield is weaker when he’s around Yuuri b/c he has to use a universal translator spell and he’s not that skilled of an empath to use Yuuri’s technique” theory, then his shield should be weaker here BUT YUURI IS TOO PANICKED TO PICK UP ON IT DAMN IT ALL ASDFGHJKL.

Wait, wait. It just occurred to me in a complete facepalm moment—If Ivanovich can use a shield, he at least knows some empathic magic. Yuuri himself said his blocks are solid; he can’t get through them like Yuri’s. Granted, I don’t think he’s been calm enough around Ivanovich yet to try. So, Ivanovich could very easily know enough empathetic magic to sense Yuuri’s panic behind the door. Probably not with Yuuri’s level of refinement, but enough to be a danger. Enough to know that Yuuri knows. Shit. Hopefully he just thinks Yuuri is panicking over Viktor? But the timing of said panic is a bit too suspicious and Ivanovich is no idiot.

Finally, they are alone. Here comes the angst. Wait…

IS THIS… WHAT I THINK IT IS?!

Viktor’s arms fold around him, and it’s just like it always is.  His hugs are strong and comforting and warm, and he still feels like home.  Yuuri starts to cry harder as Viktor buries his face in his hair, holding him tightly.

“I’m going to miss you, too,” he whispers.  “I really… oh, Yuuri.  I’m so sorry.  I’m so sorry for all of this.”

“I d-don’t want to leave you,” Yuuri sobs.  “I don’t—I don’t want to.  I l-love you, Vitya, I’m so, I’m so sorry for pushing you away—”

^Yuuri, in summary. (I’m really feeling the 10GIFs tonight.)

 NO WAY…

“I love you so much,” Viktor whispers fiercely.  “I love you so, so much, Katsuki Yuuri.  Whatever happens tomorrow and every day after that, just—please, please never doubt that.”

“For what?” Yuuri asks, shaking his head.  He closes his eyes, laying his hand over Viktor’s, and just shakes his head again.  He’s been so unfair, stewing and wallowing in his own despair all day when he could have spent it with Viktor, knowing that if tomorrow morning must come at least they could’ve had today together.  His world has been shaken, rocked to its core, and he feels so horrible for all his cold looks and chilly words.  Vitya, Vitya, his poor Vitya, all alone, just trying to—to save an innocent. To save him. Again.

“For letting me say a proper goodbye,” Viktor answers, and Yuuri opens his eyes again to see that Viktor’s are closed.  He trembles in Yuuri’s arms, trying not to break down himself, and Yuuri sends him a burst of lovelovelove, desperately wanting to chase the sadness away.  Viktor opens his eyes again.  “For—for giving me another chance.  For not hating me for this.”

THIS IS…FLUFF?!  IT’S FLUFF!

I mean, it’s kinda angsty fluff and Viktor is still being a very stubborn, noble, and self-sacrificing idiot, but it’s fluff! Completely unexpected fluff and I am living.  

I am going to refrain from quoting this entire scene—even though I really want to—because this is getting ridiculously long. In summary: it’s all adorable and I’m glad our royal dorks were able to reconcile before they have to (temporarily) separate. Granted, this means that the primary source of angst is now going to come from an external source rather than miscommunication. Yay? I am going to refrain from ‘guessing’ what will happen here because I was given a tiny spoiler, so I already (in a very vague sense) know and that’d ruin the whole play-by-play comment style. I digress, moving on… We also get the following tidbits of info: 1) philological blocks do not catch implication, 2) Duchess Baranovskaya and Duke Feltsman were threatened and are being sent away too, and 3) Yuuri now knows for certain that the Queen’s death was foul play.  Whoo!

Why is he breaking up with Yuuri now?  He needs Yuuri, they can all see it!  Yuuri was so good for him!  The grief excuse doesn’t make sense.  Not to her, anyway.  She knows him better than that.  And that tidbit she overheard a while ago… about wanting to keep Viktor off the throne?  Obviously, it never came to fruition, but it still makes her uneasy.

And Mila is so close too. Nobody has all the puzzle pieces but they’re all getting so close and it’s so frustrating. Yuuri is closest, but he’s leaving tomorrow. Ugh. As much as I want to see Mila and Sara being adorable, please don’t leave Mila!!! Not yet!

“I know you’re my beautiful, selfless, amazing babe, but listen to me.  You need to rest.  And I’m not just saying this because I’m biased and I want you here.  I just think you need a break from court.  You need to get away for a while, and go back feeling refreshed.  You’ll probably be way better at supporting him if you do that!  Even if it’s just a few days!  He can survive without you for a week!  So please, please take care of yourself too, and if you won’t quite do that, then get over here so I can do it for you.  Okay?”

And Sara is right. They can’t support Viktor individually without neglecting themselves and burning out (I’m looking at you, Yuuri). Viktor needs his entire support network; too bad he’s a self-sacrificing idiot.

Yes, she feels really bad for Viktor, but she has to admit at least part of this mess is of his own making—breaking up with Yuuri right after becoming king?  Okay… sure, Your Majesty—and she does want some time off.

“Hey,” Mila says, smiling at her through her hair.  “Thank you for talking sense into me.”

My feelings are very mixed. You guys are adorable and deserve all the happiness in the world but don’t leave, Mila!!!

“Oh, well, you know me,” Sara says airily.  “I’m here for transparency and clarity, not cover-ups and conspiracies.”

Ha!

“Oh, right, of course,” Sara laughs that merry, tinkling laugh again.  “Take your time, sweetie, I’m definitely not in a rush to get rid of you.”

If I didn’t know you were such a MilaSara fan, I’d be worried. This entire scene is starting to sound kinda ominous, tbh. But Sara is Sara and Vespuccia gains nothing from getting rid of Yuuri or Viktor—especially Viktor, if they want that trade agreement. 

Phichit!!! Shadow-jumping sounds like a fun ability. Also, still low-key wondering about that dagger and its affect on Phichit. So many questions about shadow magic…

The exception is the medical building, which was designed to be run by a blood mage and sits at the heart of the compound.

Possibly a blood mage for hire? Maybe? I feel like I’m stretching here. Hell, I know I am stretching here because Rani, the resident blood mage, is female. BUT. I. WANT. TO. KNOW. DAMN. IT.

There is a faint light blinking in the room, though, and curious, he walks toward it.  It’s the notice board, he realizes.  There must be a new contract posted.

Uh oh… my Spidey senses are tingling.

Just as he suspected, there is indeed a new contract notification, up for grabs should any of the assassins want to take it.  It’s very new, actually, he realizes—the timestamp says it was only just processed a little over an hour ago.  He might be the first one of them to see it.

An hour? Shit. It’s gonna be Yuuri, isn’t it? I am 90-ish% sure now that Ivanovich has enough empathetic skill to pick up that Yuuri knows. He already survived one assassination attempt, but now he really is a dead man walking.

Wait.  On the note of seeing something—oh, whoops, haha.  He winces as he abruptly remembers he’s forgotten to text Yuuri back. 

Is that ominous music I hear? Whelp, that pretty much settles it.

He can’t just resign on a whim, although… after everything Yuuri and his family have done for him in the past, there aren’t a lot of things he wouldn’t do for Yuuri.

Yeah…

He skims it quickly—it’s political, apparently someone “knows too much” about someone else’s scheming.  Textbook assassination case.

Okay, so Ivanovich is definitely an empath—probably not that skilled, but definitely an empath.

Confirm, it reads.  Phichit Chulanont, do you accept the contract to assassinate Second Prince of Hinomoto Katsuki Yuuri?

Phichit’s hand shakes as he selects yes.

You gave us a lot of clues that it was coming, and you’d think that’d soften the blow, but damn. This passage had gravitas.

“No,” Viktor mumbles, hitting snooze.  He wraps his arms around Yuuri again, locking him firmly against his chest, and buries his face in his neck.  “Not yet.”

Same, Viktor. Same.

Viktor’s fingers brush his cheek, tender and soft, and then his hand is cradling Yuuri’s jaw as his thumb strokes his cheekbone with gentle wonder, as if he’s in awe that Yuuri is here, in his bed.

“I should be thankful,” he says, voice low and rough.  “You gave me one last night together.  But all my selfish heart can do is wish for one more day, too.”

He doesn’t say it’s my fault we don’t have one.  He doesn’t say it, but it’s written in his eyes as plain as the day that’s dawning, and a dull, painful ache settles deep within Yuuri’s chest.

THERE’S THE ANGST! I’d quote their entire conversation if I wasn’t currently sitting at 3805 words. In summary: I HAD A SAD. VIKTOR, LET YUURI—AND EVERYONE ELSE—HELP YOU, DAMN IT.

“My idiot,” Yuuri says instead, letting the ghost of a smile flicker across his lips. 

 His smile is beautiful. It’s also heartwrenchingly, achingly sad.

“Not anymore,” he whispers back.

 Ffff—

Viktor still smells like comfort and warmth and home.  Yuuri has been desperately trying not to think about how he’s going to miss pressing himself into Viktor until the lines between them melt away, about how he’s going to have to get used to sleeping alone again, or about how Viktor’s scent will slowly fade from every single article of Yuuri’s clothing that spent time in his closet.

Why is this paragraph so sad?! Out of everything this is so subtle!sad. It’s like being clocked with a hammer wrapped in a soft cloth.

“I’ll, um.  I’ll be back.  For breakfast,” he says, and without waiting for a response, he scrambles away from Viktor, barely retaining the presence of mind to leave through the passage through Yuri’s room, which is where the guards saw him enter and didn’t see him leave.

(Ivanovich saw him in Viktor’s rooms, he realizes.  But hopefully Ivanovich and the guards don’t exchange gossip.)

Oh, this won’t end well for Viktor. Not at all.

He’s going to go home and learn everything he can about philology.  And then he’s going to come back here and take this damn castle apart brick by brick if he has to.  And then he’s going to save Viktor Nikiforov and prove to him once and for all that he can, and should, rely on the people around him.  And then he’s going to kiss him senseless and figure out the rest from there.

(That’s what he’s telling himself to cope, anyway.)

Yuuri lets out a watery laugh and pulls the boy into a tight hug, nuzzling his face into his hair.  “I promise I will call you as soon as I get home tonight, Yura,” he says as Yuri goes from stiff as a board to clinging tighter than an octopus.

“You better!” he insists, pressing his face into Yuuri’s chest.  “You better!”

[And Yuri made sure to remind us of that knife. Hmmm.]

Viktor goodbye was sad, Mila goodbye was sad, Yuri goodbye was sad, and MAKKACHIN?! Really, you’re going there? I feel attacked.

Target:  Katsuki Yuuri, second prince of Hinomoto, former fiancé of King Nikiforov of Ruthenia.  Noted to be of a skittish disposition; tends to avoid very public places unless accompanied by one or more close companions.  Death should preferably not be able to be traced back to shadow magic.  Must be eliminated before rendezvousing with members of Hinomoto’s royal family or attendants thereof.  Travelling companions should also be eliminated, if possible, but Katsuki is the prime target.

Ivanovich really wants to ruin that alliance, doesn’t he? And Yuuri knows way too much.

He stays outside with her for a few more minutes, but time marches relentlessly onwards, and he really needs to get going—it’ll take him a few hours to shadow-phase his way to Hinomoto, and he… needs to be in good fighting condition when Yuuri arrives.

Who’s he going to be fighting when he fails to assassinate Yuuri? Or will they stage a death? So many questions. All I know is shits about to go down!

Also, Phichit is a saint and best friend ever.

“And… if we want to keep our jobs, we can’t refuse to uphold it,” Leki continues.  Pain flashes through his eyes, and Rani lets out a soft oh.

“I know,” Phichit says.  He lets out a soft sigh, raking a hand through his hair.  “I… I know.  I don’t blame you at all.  Family comes first.”

“I know,” he says.  “I know.  If we do have to fight each other, I don’t expect you to go down easy.  Either of you.  Just don’t expect me to, either.”

So other shadow guild members will come after Phichit. He’s got quite a tough battle ahead of him. Potentially against his friends, too. He’s sacrificing so much for Yuuri. Did I mention that Phichit is a saint? It can’t be said enough.

Back to Viktor and… Tchaikovsky mood music.

He’s going to finish reading through this damn page about possibilities of Vespuccian access to Ruthenian waterways…

I can’t imagine those are Ivanovich approved.

And god, does he love Yuuri too.  Even if they’ll never be together again.

“One day, my darling,” he murmurs to himself, “I hope you meet someone who adores you as I do.  You deserve all the love in the world.  I hope you can be happy.”

*Softly* Don’t.

Which means that Ivanovich must now know that there is a passage that lets out in Viktor’s rooms, if he didn’t before.

Explicitly stated twice. Yeah, that’s not a good sign.

Ivanovich knows that Yuuri knows, though, his thoughts whisper, and Viktor bites his lip to avoid hissing out a swear even though nobody is around to see.  He’s worried.  What if—what if Ivanovich tries to send someone after Yuuri again and this time Viktor isn’t there to save him?

Wait, how does Viktor know that Ivanovich knows that Yuuri knows? Or is he just assuming that Ivanovich assumed Yuuri overheard. (Wow, those are some awkward sentences. Sorry. It’s late.)

Why haven’t the guards closed the door behind Ivanovich?  Sure, nobody’s awake or around, but it’s odd.

Viktor has spent too much time around Yuuri. Trust your instincts, Viktor! At least he can summon his ice quickly?

“To let you know that I have conferred with my comrades, and we have agreed that your recent behavior makes you unfit to be our figurehead king,” Ivanovich says. 

Oh dear… this isn’t gonna end well for Viktor. How many times have I said that this chapter? I feel like a broken record. Viktor is clearly having a very, very bad day.

And he’s already on his guard.

Better late than never? Granted, Viktor knows that Ivanovich isn’t the type to launch a physical attack. He’s more the type for subterfuge and conspiracy, and Viktor was definitely on guard for that. But—the door is open, Viktor. It’s not just you and Ivanovich.

Ivanovich hesitates at the doorway, turning to look back over his shoulder, silhouetted against the light from the hallway.  “I… didn’t want it to come to this,” he says.  “You may not believe me, but I… I am sorry, Viktor.”

The door closes with a thud. 

A figure melts from the shadows.

Oh, Viktor thinks.  And then, Fuck.

Unfortunately for Viktor, it looks like Ivanovich and co. learned their lesson, stopped pinching pennies on bargain basement thugs, and hired a proper assassin.  

“I don’t really care,” the assassin says, raising the dagger again, and their voice has a good enough command of Ruthenian that he’s pretty sure they must be a native speaker, from the Ruthenian guild.  Interesting.  “They just need your blood, and lots of it.”

A native Ruthenian. Interesting indeed. Info. filed away for later. Also, what exactly are they going to do with Viktor’s blood if they’re planning on incapacitating him?

He intends to summon a huge, crashing wave of ice, blocks and icicles and spears like he did in the alleyway with Yuuri.  He intends for this to absolutely decimate his study and pin the assassin down, preventing them from moving, not one inch.  He intends to freeze everything solid.

Instead, a thin sheen of frost coats the carpet, a few icicles lurch into existence and melt almost immediately, soaking everything in cold water, and the swords fall from his hands as he stumbles to his knees, struck by a sudden wave of intense magical exhaustion, the kind that he shouldn’t be feeling at all, not yet.  He knows his limits, dammit, and this wasn’t it.  Panic punches him in the gut.  What’s happening to him?

“What,” he gasps hoarsely, vision swimming, “have you done to me?”

The assassin slowly walks toward him, dagger still held in a guard position.  “Highly concentrated elemental inhibitors in your bloodstream,” is the answer, though he can barely hear it for the roaring in his ears.

AND THERE IS THE DAMN ELEMENTAL MAGIC INHIBITOR. I was wondering when it’d make it’s appearance and result in Viktor having a Very Bad Day™. Looks like today is that day.

I feel like I should conclude somehow, but it is getting late and I am ready to get off this rollercoaster of feels and go to sleep. That being said, this chapter was... surprisingly fluffy? It had angst, sure, but compared to chapter 11 it was almost hopeful? Except for Viktor giving up on his own happiness and wishing Yuuri a happy future full of love with someone else. That broke me. That and the Viktor getting knocked out bit. Okay, so Viktor had a bad day, but it was still much better than Chapter 11! I wonder what Ivanovich and co. are planning on doing with his blood. If he won’t be a figurehead king anymore, what use is it? Also, I’m sure they will utilize their new knowledge of the passageway into Viktor’s study, but how? Can’t wait to find out!

^ Rimi, after unleashing this chapter on an unsuspecting fandom.

But really, it was much lighter than expected? Somehow? You know, I’m not gonna question it. I’ll just be thankful. Thank you, Rimi, for not completely ripping out our hearts this time. This chapter was like, taking a kidney or something? I have a spare. I will live. I’ll be in pain for a while, but I will live.