#anyways what if we were both entities which housed a tortured soul.... and we were both girls....

[pixxystycks]

this too, is yuri

[vivithefolle]

Ron’s greatest acts of bravery

An itty-bitty butthurty Harmony shipper reported this answer of mine and got it deleted by the Quora moderation. Naturally, I have contested this decision, but my appeal has been unanswered as of now. So here’s what we’re going to do, folks: I’m gonna repost this answer of mine here, where no angwy widdle Hawmony shipper can censor it. And y’all are going to spam the reblog button until people can’t go in the Harry Potter tag without finding this answer reblogged at least five times over. Good? Good.

(this is totally a demarcation line I don’t know what you’re talking about)

What was Ron Weasley's greatest act of bravery in any of the Harry Potter movies or books?

We of course have the mythical “I’ll be a knight” but that’s so easy. Ron would die for his loved ones any day of any week, because that’s how stupidly selfless and self-effacing he is.

There is the equally mythical “If you want to kill Harry, you’ll have to kill us too!” which reeks of badassery and awesomeness, but it has also been quoted before, and to be fair that wasn’t one of Ron’s greatest acts of bravery. Oh, yes, it is incredibly brave, but Ron has plenty more of those to give.

One that is often forgotten is “He beat you!”, spoken to Voldemort in the flesh, which also highlights just how far Ron has come from the beginning of the series - because unlike what the haters want you to believe, Ronald Weasley has an actual character arc. An arc that keeps getting reseted and postponed in-between books because his author is too busy trying to make her Mary Sue look better instead, but he has one, and it’s so perfectly illustrated by this:

"... and until Hagrid told me, I didn't know anything about be ing a wizard or about my parents or Voldemort" Ron gasped. "What?" said Harry. "You said You-Know-Who's name!" said Ron, sounding both shocked and impressed. "I'd have thought you, of all people --" - Philosopher’s Stone

—-

"Malfoy's dad must have told him," said Harry, ignoring Ron. "He was right in Voldemort's inner circle --" "Say You-Know-Who, will you?" interjected Ron angrily. - Prisoner of Azkaban

—-

“My scar hurts, and three days later the Death Eaters are on the march, and Voldemort's sign's up in the sky again." "Don't - say - his - name!" Ron hissed through gritted teeth. "And remember what Professor Trelawney said?" Harry went on, ignoring Ron. - Goblet Of Fire

—-

"You see?" said Voldemort, and Harry felt him striding backward and forward right beside the place where he lay. "Harry Potter is dead! Do you understand now, deluded ones? He was nothing, ever, but a boy who relied on others to sacrifice themselves for him!" "He beat you!" yelled Ron, and the charm broke, and the defenders of Hogwarts were shouting and screaming again until a second, more powerful bang extinguished their voices once more.

From the boy who flinched at Voldemort’s name, to the man who was the first to sass back to Voldemort when the latter dissed his best mate. To say nothing of the fact that this was the first time Ron ever saw Voldemort in the flesh. Ron had never seen Voldemort before, yet the second Voldemort says something about Harry, Ron is up in arms and ready to kill the Dark Lord with his bare hands.

We could go with the tested-and-true “follow the spiders”. Unlike in the movies where Harry immediately sees a trail of spiders and Ron follows moaning and bumbling all the while, in the books Harry and Ron are comfortably in the castle when they decide to follow. Ron has the time to psych himself up, to terrify himself into imagining the spiders, and was given the time to backtrack a million times over. But he didn’t. This one Tumblr post has said it all.

Yes, “Follow the spiders” is probably one of Ron’s bravest moments, but…

But, but, but.

There’s more.

Sure, I absolutely adore Ron and can’t choose between all those awesome moments he has to his name, because they’re all so wonderful. From the ones that highlight just how much he’s grown and developed in spite of his own author treating him like an afterthought; from the ones that showcase just how good a kid he is, how much he loves and fights for his friends; all those moments that show that no, Ron Weasley isn’t a fair-weather friend and anyone who calls him that needs a high-five in the face with a block of concrete…

Out of those moments, out of them all, I have to pick something that is too often forgotten, too often glossed over, even by those of us who love Ron.

I’m talking, naturally, of his return.

Harry had no strength to lift his head and see his savior’s identity. All he could do was raise a shaking hand to his throat and feel the place where the locket had cut tightly into his flesh. It was gone. Someone had cut him free. Then a panting voice spoke from over his head, “Are—you—mental?”

Whether you think that Ron “abandoned” Harry and Hermione, whether you think that Ron is a traitor or a man with the patience of a saint who put up with Harry and Hermione’s bullshit for too long. Whether you think the three times Harry told him to leave were a factor or whether you place the blame solely on Ron’s shoulders.

Ron comes back to save Harry’s life.

But not only that.

“No!” said Ron. “No, don’t open it! I’m serious!” “Why not?” asked Harry. “Let’s get rid of the damn thing, it’s been months—” “Because that thing’s bad for me!” said Ron, backing away from the locket on the rock. “I can’t handle it! I’m not making excuses, Harry, for what I was like, but it affects me worse than it affected you and Hermione, it made me think stuff — stuff I was thinking anyway, but it made everything worse. I can’t explain it, and then I’d take it off and I’d get my head on straight again, and then I’d have to put the effing thing back on—I can’t do it, Harry!” He had bakced away, the sword dragging at his side, shaking his head.

Ron came back, even though he knew it would mean being with the thing that had tortured him all this time.

The thing that latched onto all of Ron’s weak spots, cultivated them, weaponized them, used them to push Ron closer and closer to the edge, until he couldn’t take it anymore and snapped. (Funny how some will act as though Hermione’s birds were her “snapping”, but when Ron is holding Voldemort’s soul in his hands and going insane under their very eyes they just say “hurr durr teh locket didnt do nuthin”…)

And with this thing preying on him, tormenting him, Ron did what any rational, sane human being would have done when their abuser forgets to lock the door.

He opened it and ran.

But, but, but, and that’s where the bravery comes in.

He came back.

He knew there was this thing that preyed upon him relentlessly, a thing that managed to make him believe his best friends didn’t want nor cared about him, that his entire existence amounted to nothing, that he was just a waste of space nobody wanted around.

“Why return? We were better without you, happier without you, glad of your absence... We laughed at your stupidity, your cowardice, your presumption —”

“You mother confessed,” sneered Riddle-Harry, while Riddle-Hermione jeered, “that she would have preferred me as a son, would be glad to exchange...” “Who wouldn’t prefer him, what woman would take you, you are nothing, nothing, nothing to him,” crooned Riddle-Hermione

Ron fled from this sort of abuse, from this sort of torture, then he decided to come back for more.

Because even though he believed his friends didn’t need him, even though he thought his friends were better off without him, he still wanted to make himself useful. He still wanted to help.

And once he’d saved Harry, he was back to facing the entity that has been torturing him, and that entity proceeded to show off Ron’s deepest, most shameful secrets… to his best mate.

Ron’s entire self-esteem is tied to the way his loved ones perceive him:

“You did brilliantly, Ron!” This time it really was Hermione running toward them from the stands; Harry saw Lavender walking off the pitch, arm in arm with Parvati, a rather grumpy expression on her face. Ron looked extremely pleased with himself and even taller than usual as he grinned at the team and at Hermione.

The image the Mirror of Erised showed Ron was one of glory and fame… or was it?

"No -- I'm alone -- but I'm different -- I look older -- and I'm head boy!" "What?" "I am -- I'm wearing the badge like Bill used to -- and I'm holding the house cup and the Quidditch cup -- I'm Quidditch captain, too."

Being Head Boy and Quidditch captain. He could have seen himself being crowned World’s Best Emperor if he wanted, with legions of fans throwing himself at him, but that doesn’t happen.

Instead he sees himself being like Bill. Like his cool older brother. And Quidditch captain, like his other cool older brother Charlie.

What Ron wants… is to make his loved ones proud.

Ron defines himself by the way his loved ones look at him.

When Malfoy calls him an idiot he scoffs because it’s Malfoy. When Hermione calls him an idiot, though…? Ouch.

And now all of Ron’s secrets, all his feelings of inadequacy and inferiority that he has tried to keep quiet throughout the series out of respect for Harry, his deepest fears… They’re all there for Harry to see, for Harry to judge, for Harry to feel disgusted by. Because how dare Ron Weasley have problems, how dare Ron Weasley be envious of Harry Potter, whose life is nothing but suffering?

Ron’s greatest act of bravery, to me, was coming back, even though for all he knew Harry and Hermione had hooked up while he was gone (they’d never, of course, but how could he know?), even though he knew it would mean being up for Round #2 of his private torture sessions with Voldemort, even though he believed he wouldn’t be welcome…

He still came back. Because it was the right thing to do.

Anyone who’s gonna tell me that Ronald Weasley isn’t loyal to the core can suck on a cactus.

[codegemini]

Are We Dead Yet? Pt.II - The Tremaculum

 (( Co-written with @thefugitivemango / @argonas / @avehi-the-adamant​ ))

 ~*~*~

Sinafay kept her head low, hair hiding her features as her tormentor floated away, seeming satisfied with his work. Her ghostly form still trembled from the inflicted pain, but her concealed expression was that of a defiant grin. It took a moment for her head to clear, but once it did, she brought her head back up and peered around.

 One was never really alone in the Tremaculum. There were plenty of sentries and tormentors about. For now, none were watching her. Prisoners were never really active after torture sessions. Even now, Sinafay knew she didn’t have the energy to do much. But she had enough for what she needed. 

 Glancing down to her side, her tail came into view. The end was curled up tightly, one would assume, out of pain. But there was another reason for it. It had been busy during her session, when her torturer had been deep in concentration. Slowly, it uncurled just enough to reveal a key. Her smile widened. 

 Her tail’s movements remained slow, as she kept her head low, peeking through her hair to make certain she wasn’t being watched. It took some time, but eventually, it managed to unlock the shackles holding her wrists, before tucking the key away, out of sight.

 For now, she kept the unlocked shackles on. She didn’t have the energy to attempt an escape… not yet, anyway. So she waited, either until she regained her strength or until a distraction broke out. Whichever would come first.

In a brilliant flash, the latter arrived, as every Mawsworn turned their attention towards the outer ramparts. A flash that could only be the Light in such a dismal place as this. Again, another eruption of brilliance washed over the Tremaculum, accompanied by the increasing sounds of battle. The clashing of steel and the unholy shouts of the denizens of the Maw as they were defeated one after the other. The tormentor hovered back from the commotion cautiously, as the source of the uproar was revealed.

 Argonas.

 He turned the corner, armored body aglow in holy Light, as he bashed down every shadehound and sentry that dared to approach him. It was him in his entirety, not just his soul cast down in death like before-- that much was clear by the intensity of his aura and the potency of the Light that radiated from him in all directions. 

 But the Light brought with it a shadow; he wasn’t alone in his infiltration of the Tremaculum. Following him around the corner came another familiar figure who had once visited Sinafay here in the Maw. Unlike Argonas, Avehi’s aura was one of death and cold, felt in stark contrast to the warm glow of the Light the living Vindicator brought with him. She reached out, shadows clinging between her hand and the tormentor to rip him towards her. The Maw monstrosity shrieked, immediately barraging the Death Knight with a flurry of spells-- none of which hit their mark as they were repelled harmlessly by a sickening icy blue shell that encapsulated her. She hefted her hammer up, then brought it down swiftly to decimate the tormentor in one heavy strike, leaving only the metallic crown and ghastly robes in a heap on the ground before her.

 The two were anything but subtle, attracting the attention of everything in the keep, it seemed! And yet nothing could stand against the two of them working in tandem as they pressed their invasion further. Avehi was the first to hone in on Sinafay’s soul; though to be fair, she was much more honed to the spirits of the afterlife than her living compatriot. 

 “Argonas.” she called his attention forward, as her lichfire eyes fell upon the familiar soul they’d come seeking.

 He turned promptly, following Avehi’s gaze to see his beloved. He couldn’t help his eyes from welling up, both to see her in shackles like this… but also just to see her again. He stepped forward immediately to make his way to the soul of his beloved Sinafay. Avehi held her position, watching their escape route closely to provide cover for the heartfelt reunion.

 “I told you I would come for you!” he declared, smiling wide. “And here I am!”

Sinafay felt her heart soar at the sight of him. She took no time to unclasp the shackles, pushing her exhaustion aside to get up on her hooves. Her vision blurred momentarily, and her ears rang at the sudden motion, but she pushed through and ran towards and into the arms of her lover.

 —at least, that had been the plan. It wasn’t until her ghostly form passed through him and she landed on the rocky ground that she realized it. He wasn’t a spirit, like her. Despite the tormentors’ abilities to make her -feel- like she had a body, this was a harsh reminder that she had no physical form. It all felt so horribly cruel, to be so close to her love, but unable to touch him. 

 She felt the intense heaviness of the Maw overcome her, wanting to cry but having no tears to shed. Her look of sorrow hid behind her hair, but her slumped shoulders as she sat up conveyed the emotions well enough. 

 Argonas knelt down beside his mate, frowning heavily. He reached for her, though clearly saw that wouldn’t pan out as he hoped. She was, to him, intangible. 

 “Avehi, why can I not--”

 “She’s still just a soul, Argonas.” Avehi huffed, glancing over. “What did you expect? We have to get her out of here first.”

 But even the Death Knight didn’t have a solid plan to overcome that obstacle. She glanced to her hammer, eyeing the crystalline head-- more specifically, the entity she’d locked away inside. She recalled binding Rokaa’s soul to the crystal vessel back on alternate Draenor, once she killed him. It was the only way to keep him from simply recurring again and again. The hammer pulsed, as if Rokaa was returning Avehi’s scrutiny. Sinafay would need something similar to house her.

 “She needs a vessel.” Avehi added, approaching the two. “Sinafay, have you seen any of these Maw creatures force a soul into anything like that?”

 Sinafay took a moment to regain her composure, letting out a sigh and rolling her shoulders back. Despite the crushing feeling being unable to touch Argonas brought about, she was still relieved he was there. Him and Avehi both! 

 She shook her head, moving her hair out of her face at the question. 

 “No,” she answered, “Soul chains and portals are the regular transport to get prisoners across the Maw or into Torghast. There are cages and soul traps scattered about, but nothing I have seen used as a vessel. And I haven’t heard of anyone traveling to and fro from the Maw…”

 She looked from Avehi, to Argonas. Spirits! She still couldn’t believe he was right there with her!

 “How did you get here?” She couldn’t help but ask, but was cut off at the sound of wings flapping. 

 She looked up at two figures in the sky, black feathery wings on their backs and spears in their hands. Mawsworn Myrmidon…

 “We need to leave. Now. Find a cave… or something…”

 Unsurprisingly, their infiltration had drawn more attention. With everything else happening down here in the Maw, other Azerothian forces breaching in to save their wayward leaders, Avehi had hoped they’d have more time. But it seemed now that time had run out. Just as well; she had a plan in mind for that, too.

 “We sent another to secure such a hiding place.” Avehi replied, narrowing her gaze up at the descending Mawsworn. “Move quickly, and we’ll make our way there.”

Argonas stood up, and motioned for Sinafay to follow Avehi as she began to return back the way they had come. The path they’d cut into the Tremaculum was still clear… for now.

 Sinafay’s ghostly hand reached and took hold of a Mawsworn dagger that had been dropped in the battle. While she was immaterial, weapons and tools that could be used to torment and bind spirits could also be used by spirits. With that, she got up and followed Avehi out of the battle zone as indicated. It was difficult for her, backing out of a fight, but she’d been in the Maw long enough to know her limits. She was still weakened from the tormentor, and knew the presence of Myrmidon would bring about stronger foes if they remained to fight.

 Thankfully, Avehi and Argonas had done an excellent job fighting their way in, so the escape went smoothly enough. Argonas managed to strike down the few forces that tried to follow. She looked back from time to time, watching her lover fight, nearly tripping over her own hooves at the distraction. How long had it been since she’d been able to admire him in battle —wielding the Light at that! He was more battle worn than she remembered… his hair was longer, and the facial hair was new. She fancied the older look it gave him. How had he gotten hotter?

 Somehow, she managed to tear her gaze away from him for the moment. She’d have plenty of time to stare whenever they got to safety.

~*~*~

[k1ng-for-a-day]

Fluff headcanons for Freddy and Jason, platonic/friends

:00000000 Another request??? How intriguing. I’m kinda excited for this one actually, (probably because I actually like Freddy Krueger. Sorry I’m a dumbass). Anyways I hope you enjoy this, even thought it’s probably not the greatest.

A platonic friendship between two different entities? Might seem a bit rough, but they’ll make it. I think,

🖤How The Hell Did This Happen?🖤

😼🗡 I feel like it was on accident when they became ‘close’ with each other. Like the Mondo and Ishimaru situation in Danganronpa, except it wasn’t at a bath house. (Imagine it though-)

😼🗡 It probably started because Krueger was jealous of Jason, and attempted to mimick his own rival in order to beat his own game. In the end, however, Jason would always laugh at Freddy being a dumbass, and would attempt to help him.

😼🗡 Freddy being egotistical was probably like, “get tf away I’m fine 😾” and would do everything on his own. When he would almost successfully complete the task, Jason would outsmart him and ruin his scheme. At this point Freddy was pissed at him for doing this and confronted him about it.

😼🗡 “Hey forest tumor, what the fuck did you do to my plan?” The crispy ass bacon man asked the hockey masked man.

😼🗡 Jason simply snickered and said one word, “Yes.”

😼🗡 At this point Freddy is just amused, abliterated, broken, bewildered, and utterly frustrated at this point. He started to retort something to Jason and they start a whole ass argument. This argument practically lasts for generations, but suddenly Jason came up with an idea. He quickly wrote it down..

😼🗡 What it said was this: If Freddy could somehow not become egotistical for a week, then Jason will serve Freddy in the dream world. If Jason could become more ‘selfish’ than ‘selfless’, then Freddy will get whatever he wants. The two agreed to this arrangement and thought they were going to win.

Day 1

😼🗡 Everything is off to a pretty decent start. Freddy had attempted to help people much more, and has completely removed the snarkiness within his comments. Additionally he’s also made more people happy within this short outcome. It seemed like he was a generally nice guy. Like he was before... the event. Nevertheless Krueger seemed immensely different to the one we all know of.

😼🗡 Jason on the other hand was a different story. He was unable to give small berries to the creatures within the forest, and had to act more like Krueger. How was he supposed to do that? It was difficult for him nonetheless, but he barely succeeded. At some points of the trial he had to stop himself, think, and stop what he was doing. He just couldn’t help himself at all it seemed. He was having an identity crisis at this point.

😼🗡 When talking to each other that day, Krueger kept covering his mouth everytime he was about to say something snarky or narcissistic. He even stopped himself before he said a very, very horny comment. Jason on the other hand had to come up with really egotistical things to say, which were hilarious but cute. He would write things like, “I-I have the b-best m-mask.” or little things like that. Freddy wanted to laugh so badly, but he was unable to. It seems like torture for both parts.

Day 2

😼🗡 The next day, Jason knew what to do; he needed different clothes in order to help him concentrate. He quickly took something inside his cabin, and put it on quickly. He stared at himself for a bit, and tried other outfits. Once he found one he deemed “acceptable”, he went out of his cabin and started to act a bit more ‘stern’ to say the least. It really seemed like his soul was twisted in a way that he was completely nothing. That he was a pure void and there was nothing more.

😼🗡 On the other hand, Freddy still had a difficult time. He would cover his mouth before saying certain words, doing certain actions, etc. It came down to the point he wouldn’t speak, and he would write little notes instead. These notes were usually ‘nice’, and if someone didn’t like how it seemed he would explain what he meant. It seemed like he became a bit more shy within these set of rules. It was strange since yesterday he was completely fine, but now everything seems.. off.

😼🗡 When they went to talk, Jason spoke in barely understandable sentences. He said certain words that helped convey his message, but Krueger was confused. In the end they just wrote notes to each other, even though Voorhees still attempted to speak.

Day 3

😼🗡 At this point, Freddy felt immensely off. The dream world felt like a living hell for him, so he had to leave it quickly. He put on a jacket, and went into the woods. It was much more humble, calm, and overall a decent environment. It was very nice. What the fuck is happening to him..?

😼🗡Coincidentally, Jason wanted to leave the forest, stumbling upon Freddy and raised his voice at him. Only a few words actually came out, “LEAVE, BURNT RAT”, and that was all.

😼🗡 As Voorhees continued on his little quest for ‘freedom’, he walked into an urban environment; something he wasn’t use to. His eyes were wide like a child, and he was absolutely flabbergasted. Many people went up to him with strange looks, but no one really cared. He was like a kid in a candy store. He wanted it all, he needed it all. That was his dream; to become a dictator. Or was it really his? Was he high or smth?

Day 4

😼🗡 After yesterday, Jason rented a hotel with the little money he had, and acted like he had bank. He would attempt to add little comments in order to make people pay attention to him, and he just became someone completely different. In actuality, he just didn’t want to fail his own bet. He wanted to succeed, prevail, and show Krueger who are ally was the king.

😼🗡 On the other side of the spectrum, Krueger was more outgoing and had a blast in a more natural environment. The only problem was that it was more difficult to maintain his jokes than anything he could imagine. This really wasn’t him, but if it’s a bet he’ll play, it’s one to win a game.

😼🗡 On that particular day, they refused to chat with each other. They didn’t even want to look at each other. They were upset, stuck, and trapped in this ‘new world’.

Day 5

😼🗡 On this one day, he snapped. Someone entered the dream world that he was immensely upset about. This person was very confident, snotty, and somewhat a bitch. Everytime he tried to catch this ‘person’, he was out played by one of their tricks. It got to the point where he was the one embarrassed, and overall frustrated that he wasn’t successful. So, he finally gave up and said this, “Shut it you watered down version of Fifty Shades of Grey. Do you even know who you’re fucking messing with? I’m Freddy Krueger hun, and this place is hell on Earth for you!”

😼🗡On the flip side, Jason realized shortly that what he was doing was completely stupid. He thought about what his mother would say in this instance, and was disappointed within himself. He became what he hated most in a few short days. In the end he decided to leave his hotel room, and return to the quiet, peaceful life he once had. He laid on the grass and sighed, wondering how his rival was doing in the dream world. “Maybe he lost too? No, he probably won.” He thought to himself. He was nervous for the end result.

😼🗡When Jason entered the dream world, he was ready to admit defeat. He sat down in front of Krueger, and wrote about his failure. To his surprise, his rival actually nodded along with him. He revealed that he also lost as well. In the end the both were confused on what to do, but realize that they kind of had it hard for each other. One raise by the quiet sounds of the forest, while the other was raised in a hostile, urban environment were disaster could easily happen. It was enjoyable, but kind of self destructive. Since then they actually became acquaintances with each other.

🖤The Relationship🖤

😼🗡 Ever since then, these two were fucking chaotic. One in a dream, while the other in the sheets. (I tried to make a dirty joke but I messed up-)

😼🗡 These two would literally have non stop arguments about their favorite things. For example if Freddy brought up his favorite genre of movie, Jason would write about how his opinion is wrong, and they would just be in a huge feud. They wouldn’t fight, but they would argue non stop until someone gives up. (Jason would usually succeed when it came to these arguments since Krueger would get bored and think they’re “useless”).

😼🗡 I feel like their friendship would be like Ishimaru and Mondo; they hate but love each other. Like Freddy will be like, “Wtf it’s the walking stick 😾,” and then Jason would be like, “🥺🥺💞💞,” and then it would just be a whole other feud.

😼🗡 When it comes to affection Jason attempts to hug Freddy, but Krueger is a pain in the ass. He would immediately get him off and say a snobby comment about he “doesn’t need attention like this because he’s already perfectly fine.” In the end he’ll just submit to the physical attention. When Freddy actually wants to give Jason ‘affection’, however, he’ll say something like, “Wow walking stick, you actually look nice,” or some half assed compliment. Sometimes he’ll actually genuinely say something nice, but it’s rare since he’s not that type of person.

😼🗡 When Jason gives Krueger a compliment, he’ll just say something like, “damn right I am!” Or something narcissistic. If Jason writes something like, “you’re adorable”, Freddy will act very dramatic towards it, and kind of weak. Later on he’ll start to give him the worst nightmare of his life, apologize, and act like a prick, but he actually likes compliments like those. He just won’t admit it because he wants to act like he’s better than everyone else. He wants to appear tougher, more on edge, and a fucking god compared to the others.

😼🗡 If Voorhees flusters Krueger enough, however, Freddy will attempt to kill him. 👏👏👏

😼🗡 Sometimes they’ll give each other some dumbass gifts that are usually made to insult each other. For example Freddy gets a pot/pan, and Jason would get something like a shower cap or body wash. Just something to poke fun at each other with.

😼🗡 Later on they’ll actually start talking/venting to one another about their past, current situations, and other things. Sometimes it’ll get to the point one of them actually shows signs of feelings. Sometimes Jason will actually catch Freddy crying a bit, but he’ll make some dumb excuse. “I-I was just laugh! T-that’s all...” or “I-it’s just a power of mine! I-I can’t... feel..”

😼🗡 When it comes to Jason admitting his feelings to Krueger, he’ll actually be like a dad to him somewhat. Like he actually fucking cares about his well being. It’s kind of interesting actually.

😼🗡 Sometimes Jason will catch Krueger looking at himself with a mirror he made, and ask, “Am I really good enough?” And other things as well. He’ll even tell terrible things about himself in order to make sure he can actually feel. It just to the point he might actually cry. Once he tears up a bit, he’ll immediately throw the mirror on the ground and breakdown for a bit. It’s best not to both him in this state.

😼🗡 If Krueger is a bit harsh on himself, Jason will actually comfort him in a way. He’ll still be mad, but a bit calmer.

😼🗡 When it comes to Jason, on the other hand, he will never cry in front of Freddy in fear he’ll be made fun of. When he does cry it’s usually in his cabin, or somewhere quiet in the dreamworld. If Freddy does actually see this, he’ll actually pay him on the shoulder, lecture him about it, and just hope he’ll be a bit calmer that way. Usually he doesn’t know how to handle sad situations like this, but he attempts to in order to make people more welcome. Even though it may not actually help at all, it does benefit the situation in a way.

😼🗡 When Jason vents to Freddy, he holds him like a teddy bear in order to feel secure.

😼🗡 U h anyways....

Shit I thought of:

😼🗡 Freddy is a chaotic neutral crackhead and Jason’s a lawful good soft boy. What could possibly go wrong?

😼🗡 I feel like if Voorhees were to sing a song, Freddy would either join him or force him to shut the fuck up.

Jason would actually have a good, quiet voice that would be decent for certain songs. (Basically his voice would probably sound like certain opera voices but very soft).

Kruegers is very raspy and would mainly be good for rock songs.

And NEVER UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES introduce them to vocaloid. There is a reason for it and it would cause destruction for the w h o l e w o r l d.

😼🗡 I feel like if they were to get lost, Freddy would get them deep into an awful rabbit hole, or Jason would actually find a way out of the predicament.

😼🗡 Honestly Freddy will act as though he is the most craziest person Jason has ever met. In actuality, Jason is the most insane person he’s met. And his mother too.

😼🗡 When these two talk about music, honey you are in danger. Freddy will talk about rock from the 1960s, and bring up some other modern day songs he’s actually interested in. Jason would critic him and say classical music is the way to go. Or literally forest sounds. Depends on his mood. When it comes to this argument, they will deadass fight each other. No joke. They will literally get anything they have and start World War 3.

😼🗡 Everytime Freddy tries to say a horny joke, Jason will smack him with anything he can find in the room. Favorite one to smack him with- pots and pans.

😼🗡 I feel like this relationship is a mixture of two people who should never interact become each other’s support or something like that.

Welp, that is practically all I could think of currently. I know this was somewhat short, but honestly I can’t really think of much. Unless someone has any other good ideas, I hope you enjoyed this! And thank you so much for your request!

[book-addict-03]

Hello, starting a Tenrose fic and wanting some advice. Constructive criticism is highly appreciated <3

Chapter I - The Beginning and The End

Rose knew it was a stupid idea, even as she was sitting, watching the house full of Torchwood agents. The only reason she even considered it was because she was so tired of running. She was even more tired of losing people. It didn’t matter that there was no one left. It didn’t matter that she was finally going to give them what they wanted.

She listened to the fallen Autumn leaves crunch under her boots as she stalked towards the house. The rustling sounds of the trees and the chatter of distant birds soothed her as she headed towards what would surely result in her torture. After all, why hunt someone for over 60 years if you didn’t have a truly malicious plan in mind?

As she kicked the door open, she couldn’t help the small smirk that graced her features. She had planned to surprise them, of course, but she was pleased to see the shocked and flummoxed looks on the faces of all 15 Torchwood Agents. She would take this sight with her, to pass away the time while she’s strapped down to a table in the Labs.

They had started hunting her when she turned 40 and it became clear to everyone that she hadn’t aged past 20. Of course, they’d suspected it throughout the years, especially when paired with her rapid healing. She’d had the extent of her healing tested throughout the years, obviously, but when it became clear that her young looks were truly unorthodox rather than good genes, Torchwood had started seeking her out for tests on top of her usual quarterly examinations. She hadn’t planned on going into hiding, but eventually she was left with no other choice.

So here she was, aged 107 years old looking no older than 20, surrounded by confused Torchwood agents, finally handing herself in. It had taken over half a century, but they were finally seeing it. Rose Tyler had finally given up.

She didn’t fight back, even as four men jumped to wrestle her to the ground, all flailing limbs and elbows. Truly terrible form, she thought, their training regime really must have changed if they thought this sort of performance would suffice in the capture of London’s most wanted criminal.

Of course, she could have fought back if she’d wanted to, years of running and fighting had left her with a toned and strong body, as well as a full martial arts skillset from her training and employment at Torchwood. So no, she hadn’t been overcome, she had submitted. She knew the distinction wouldn’t be made in the records or to the public, but she had to keep her pride intact if nothing else. Honestly, who would expect anything else from the long-lost heiress of the Vitex fortune?

“Hello boys!” she said with a wide grin, seemingly nonplussed by the agents currently holding her to the cold, hard concrete floor, “Honestly, is this how you greet your guests? I must say, this is really poor hospitality. I mean, I’ve been in some really bad establishments, and when I say really bad, I mean really bad but honestly, this is unrivalled.”

“Shut up, you bitch” said the person wearing the boots that were currently right in front of her face. The man laying across the top of her back prevented her from angling her neck to see the speakers face but from the burly voice, she decided it was safe to assume the person was male. “Goodard, get up and chain her.” Also in a role of power, she noted as she was roughly jerked upright and put straight into a cold metal chair. She tried to cross her knees but the men chaining her down wouldn’t allow it. With an exaggerated huff, she allowed the young men to chain her to the chair, ankles tied firmly to the legs of the chair.

Finally allowed to see the man that would probably be hailed as her captor, Rose took a few moments to observe his harsh features. If she was being honest to herself, he looked like a stereotypical Disney villain. He sneered down at her with a sharp, elongated face, greying hair and a rapidly receding hairline. He could be no older than 50, but he had only a small amount of hair left.

“If you’re tying an old woman down with truck chains then I must be making a good impression.” She said, with a smirk. She was bored and wished, not for the first time, that she could just fast forward through certain moments.

“You and I both know your age is not an accurate depiction of your strength or abilities, which is precisely why we’ve been looking for you for so long, Agent Tyler.” He said, clearly enunciating her previous title from her employment at Torchwood. If he expected a reaction, he must’ve been sorely disappointed, because the next words out of his mouth were:

“Fingal! Jab her, get her in the truck and let’s go” followed by a sharp prick in her neck and a veil of black taking over her consciousness.

…~oOo~…

Six months later, Rose was recovering from her 17th surgery while also preparing for her 46th MRI. This time they were going to try drowning her to see what would happen afterwards. It was one of the least imaginative deaths they had come up with so far, but she still wasn’t looking forward to the time spent swimming in a swirling haze of pain that always followed her death.

Of course, it wasn’t the first time she’d died.

The first time had been a shock, she had been hit by a stray bullet, fired by a hunter who must’ve thought her to be a deer or some other sort of animal. Her mother and Tony were still alive at the time. They had discussed what was to be done in the event of her death a while beforehand, so they had carted her body off to a cave deeper in the woods to wait until nightfall so they could light a pyre. Just as twilight peaked, Rose woke up with a gasp and scared the absolute shit out of her family. Her mother had been yelling at her for weeks after that, saying that Rose had surely knocked 10 years off her life span.

That time she’d been out for over 5 hours, lately they had been cut down to an hour or less. Rose assumed it was a ‘practice makes perfect’ sort of scenario. Well, she hoped.

…~oOo~…

Rose knew something was different from the moment she stepped into the room. Her skin felt tingly and she felt slightly invigorated, she knew her evolved senses were picking up on something, something she was unable to interpret. Of course, the strange occurrence didn’t change her actions. She didn’t even falter, she knew doing anything other than what they asked was pointless. No matter what, they were going to force her into the tub of cold water. She could do nothing to stop them, she’d tried before on several occasions. They always sent her with multitudes of armed guards who were instructed to use brutal force if she showed any sign of resistance. So, she’d pretended nothing was amiss and forced herself to place one foot in front of the other, climb into the tub and accept the blanket of numbness that was handed to her as the water blacked out her vision.

She swam in the inky depths of her mind, waiting for her body to come alive once again. Usually, it just felt as though she had been asleep, sometimes she would remember different moments of her life or dream of a different future for herself. This time was different, she was aware of everything going on outside of her own head but remained unable to do anything. Instead, it was like she was in a viewing panel inside her own mind. Weird.

“Hello, my Wolf,” said a mystical voice from behind her. She turned to see herself, wearing different clothes and with the bleached blonde hair she had grown out decades ago, but still her. She immediately knew who was speaking to her through her own image, because who else could it be?

“TARDIS” she greeted with a nod and grin, “it’s been a long time since we’ve spoken. Though I must say, we don’t really speak, do we? It’s usually like a telepathic game of charades. This is new,” she said, waving at the whole of the entity in front of her.

The TARDIS smiled and nodded to Rose, “I have no other corporeal image for myself other than you, the one who shares my heart. You must know by now that your link to Bad Wolf was not removed from you, as my Thief had thought” Rose wasn’t sure if it was a statement or a question, but she nodded anyway. “Good, that makes this easier”

“Makes what easier?” Rose asked, with a suspicious expression marring her features.

“My magnificent plan, of course. I know that your journey since the Bay has been taxing on your soul. You have lost many, and I want you to know that I cannot fix that. I wish to give my Wolf and my Thief the second chance they deserve… I believe that you both need each other; you know that as well as I do. This is my gift to you. I can take you back to your own universe. I can take you back to him.”

The TARDIS said this with an air of finality that didn’t sit well with Rose. Her passionate yet detached deliverance of her speech didn’t do anything to help either. She was sick of detachment. She hadn’t spoken any of this to anyone, so when the TARDIS prodded at such painful memories, the floodgates of thoughts and feelings hidden away over decades of life faltered and she broke.

“What if I don’t want to go back? I have lost everything since Bad Wolf Bay, I lost my chance at a normal life, I lost my family, all because your thief didn’t give me a choice! What makes you think I’d willingly go back to him?” She was pacing, her minor rant had made her realise how exhausted she was and the warmth on her face alerted her to the fact that she was crying.

“You need home. The TARDIS is and always will be your home. I will care for you, as I always have. I can’t help you while you’re here though. You don’t belong in this universe; you already know that they will not accept your modified biology. You know that my Thief will at least understand your situation and the loss that has followed. I wish for no more than to allow you both the comfort you desire, but it is still your choice. Do you wish to stay here, or are you ready to come home?” Her soft-spoken words pierced Rose’s armour and she crumpled to the floor. Decades of loss, sorrow and pain suddenly cascading through her barriers.

“Please. Please, take me home” She sobbed. The TARDIS gave a small, affectionate smile. Her plan would work. She just knew it.

Of course, she knew her Wolf’s anger and nonchalance were a shield to protect her already worn-down heart, much like her Thief and his indifference towards others who seek to help him. The fact that the Void had warped time a lot more for this universe than her own was likely going to be a slight issue, but that couldn’t be helped. She would take care of them; she would make sure they were happy again. Together.

[nightslain]

So I guess it’s that time of day where I get up on my soap box to once again talk about the incongruities and gaping chasms in the Netflixvania plot that have yet to be addressed, specifically those that strengthen the case for why shoehorning Leon into this mess divorced of his supporting cast and story is probably a Bad Idea. 

TL;DR I am perpetually tortured by the fact nothing makes sense right now so I am going to whinge exhaustively in a post to exorcise myself of misery and potentially spare my poor friend’s ears.

So. The show’s version of the origin story has not been properly detailed in any meaningful length except for the fact that a) Leon is indeed the patriarch of the Belmont family and b) he entered Wallachia specifically to hunt for Dracula. Sounds like the same story beats from LoI at face value, but just like everything else about this house of cards, it completely falls apart under the faintest bit of scrutiny. I’ve beat the dead horse of Mathias no longer being canon enough as it is, but Mathias is arguably the most pivotal character in the entire story. You cannot make a Castlevania adaptation that excludes his history and expect it to make actual sense. If you remove Mathias, you dismantle every facet of the plot in one fell swoop, especially if you’re going to try and wedge Leon Belmont into your story without him. The two are mutually exclusive, you cannot have one without the other unless you completely rewrite the canon to follow a wholly different trajectory that is free of those trappings (i.e Lords of Shadow, which I do not like, but I appreciate that it was trying to do something totally different and therefore don’t take great issue with it.)

And I would have accepted this level of reimagining was the show’s intention, if Leon wasn’t paid such a heaping dose of aggressive lip service to indisputably assert him as this universe’s Belmont patriarch as well. But put in context with the rest Ellis’ interpretation as is, this just ends up making no God damn sense.

Dracula has been explicitly stated to be the first vampire to exist in this universe. That solidly affirms that Mathias is not canon, so therefore Leon’s history with him is also non existent. So in turn, that logically means Walter Bernhard also never existed, Mathias never hatched that elaborate plot with him to betray Leon, Sara was never kidnapped, Leon never had to rescue her, she was never bitten by Walter, her soul was never sacrificed to make the Vampire Killer. So what did happen, then? If Dracula was never Mathias, then what the fuck was he up to in the 11th century? Getting his distance mirror apparently, which he made an oddly specific point of mentioning he acquired 400 years prior to the events of season two, which would have been approximately 1075. This would leave us 19 years prior to Lament of Innocence, so presumably Dracula was already a vampire when Leon was just a child. Which in itself just more effectively dispatches any expectations of their history together being the same or even just similar to what it was in LoI. 

Albeit, Trevor treats us to some pretty loaded exposition in saying that the Belmont family hailed from France, moving to Wallachia when “the dark things all moved into the east”--followed by Alucard affirming that Leon was in Wallachia looking specifically for Dracula. So Dracula and his monsters were obviously in France at some point in this canon causing a stink that attracted Leon’s notice--we also have evidence of this with one of the storyboard artists drawing Leon in his knightly garb slaying said monsters. But if Dracula was never Mathias in Ellis’ interpretation, what was he even doing dicking around in France in the first place? And furthermore, what did he do to convince Leon to chase him into the east as well as devote his life and the life of every Belmont after him to killing Dracula specifically? Because it’s gonna be a pretty weak downgrade in motivation from the original story if he just wants to kill Dracula because Vampires Are Evil ™, or Dracula just offhandedly killed someone important to him without nary a drop of history behind them to give it weight.

Also another discrepancy between these two canons is Leon is still a knight when he goes into the east whereas he gave up his knighthood in the games; this is quite boldly showcased by his depiction in that big ass painting as well as the fact his sword is present in the Belmont hold--which is also coincidentally the thing that kills Dracula, not the Vampire Killer. And oh yeah, how the fuck is the Vampire Killer here if the whole plot behind its existence has been effectively erased? I repeat, it’s going to be a weak downgrade if it came from anything less than the tragedy of Sara Trantoul’s sacrifice--which its starting to seem like it will be, based on everything else that’s been exorcised from the show canon.

There’s just no sensible way to knit these two interpretations together at this point if Ellis is going to dig in his heels and maintain that Dracula’s history as Mathias is not part of his vision, so I really can’t say I’m sure what in God’s name he’s going to inject into the story to fill this gaping hole he’s gnawed into the canon. I strongly believe Leon should just have been quietly excluded if the most vital elements of his story have been erased along with Mathias as well. I would not be here complaining about this at all if Leon hadn’t been forced into this version of Castlevania unnecessarily, which then just opened up a black hole of inconsistencies. Why even add him? Why have your main cast keep talking about him? Why sprinkle in fresh lore about him? Why make his sword the thing that kills Dracula? Why do all this if he’s going to be either a non-entity in the future of the show, or you’re going to just ignore the entirety of the canon that he is inextricably attached to?

This is why I’m kind of in a purgatorial relationship with the show right now as we wait for season three; I have no idea if there’s going to be even a molecule of exposition showing off the “New and Improved” vision for Leon’s and Dracula’s backstory--a part of me finds their constant chatter about Leon a little too heavy-handed for his character and history to just be swept under the rug thereafter, but another part of me is pretty solidly convinced the show isn’t even going to attempt to address that elephant in the room from here.

However, if Alucard’s going to be left by his lonesome with nothing but his father’s castle and the Belmont library, then he better be busting his ass down there reading up on some Belmont family history. Because honestly? There really is no other purpose his character can serve when isolated from the rest of the cast, the action and the plot, besides acting as a vehicle for exposition. I’d like to believe that this was the intention behind that very sudden and very off-handed plot point of Trevor bestowing his family’s library upon him in season 2. Why else do that and then just leave him there? If Alucard is just going to be steered back into the fray early into the new season, then what was even the point of having the team go their separate ways? 

Anyways. I’ve said before I really wouldn’t mind if the staff decided to rewrite Dracula and Leon’s history together a little due to the bizarre and convoluted nature of LoI’s plot which definitely needs a fresh coat of paint, and I still maintain that; but they seem to be both borrowing the outline of the premise while erasing the primary facets that made it work, and I’m entirely confused about how they’re going to actualise such a shaky narrative structure. Not very well, judging by this janky mess of plotholes they’ve dug for themselves--if they don’t just conveniently forget to ever address it again, I’m half sure their answers to these questions are going to be some wacky nonsense that probably even further diminishes the symbolic importance of the story as a whole.

If the show completely erases any meaningful relationship between Dracula and Leon as well as the gravity behind the Vampire Killer’s origins, then it will have truly sunk to a whole new depth. These are the only things I am begging Ellis not to fuck up. You know, the entire crux of Castlevania’s plot as we know it, and the entire reason this story is even playing out in this universe the way it is.

There’s no shortage of us already frustrated with his treatment of the canon as it is, and its a damn shame. I really like a lot of things about the show. The animation is still gorgeous, the music is wonderful, the atmosphere is great, and I felt genuinely moved by some of the scenes they curated for us. I appreciate the hard work the team as a whole has poured into it in the limited time frame they have to complete every season. There’s no taking away from the fact that the show has value in many areas. But Ellis to date has sadly cocked up more facets of the story than he has improved, which is what is consistently holding the show back. As much as I crave answers from this series though, I’m equally as afraid that I am not going to like them when I get them. Or that Leon’s character is going to get dragged backwards through a thorn-bush should he ever appear in the flesh.

I would love nothing more than season three to blow me away and restore my faith in the future of the series but at this point, I’d honestly settle for a few minutes of icon material and whatever answers there are so I can finally leave this bespoke Silent Hill Ellis’ writing has crafted for me, amen and good night.

[ramajmedia]

The Worst Thing Each Main Character From Supernatural Has Done

Over its 14 seasons, Supernatural presented us with many characters, amd it can be hard to determine the main characters aside from the brothers, Sam and Dean, Cas, and Jack. Still, there were characters that were closer to the story in recent seasons, and others that had a lasting effect on Sam and Dean, making them main characters.

RELATED: 5 Ways Supernatural Has Aged Poorly (And 5 Ways It's Timeless)

That said, all of these characters have performed good deeds (yes, even Ruby and Lucifer), and all of these characters have done horrible things (yes, even and especially, Dean and Sam). Even the angels are tainted in Supernatural. 

13 Lucifer: Stealing His Son's Power

We would expect everything that Lucifer did to be bad, so it is hard to choose the worst. Could it be when he tortured Sam? Could it be when he killed Cas? When he brutally killed Rowena? Or when he treated Crowley, literally like a dog? Then, there were all the angels he eviscerated. All these and more are horrible, but the worst thing he ever did was stealing Jack's (his son) grace. It had seemed that he was interested in his son, but his son was just another way to get power.

12 Lucifer's Human Vessel, Nick: Dooming His Wife

When Lucifer leaves Nick's body, Nick comes back.  First, he begins to search for a way to avenge his family, his wife, and child who had been murdered. He kills people and demons to do this, sometimes innocent people, but this isn't his worst thing.

Finally, he goes back into his old house, and there he sees his wife's ghost. She tells him that she's trapped in the house due to the unfinished business of her murder and his path with Lucifer. She begs him, "Reject Lucifer right now. If you do, I can leave. I can find peace." Nick won't do it, turning his back on his wife.

11 John Winchester: Getting Jo's Dad Killed

Normally, we would say that John's worst thing was how he raised his boys, but his teachings made them into men who can save the world. If he hadn't given them the tough love and the field experience with hunts, they might very well have turned out like their half-brother, Adam, first killed by a standard ghoul.

RELATED: Supernatural is Finally Bringing Adam Back 

On top of hist list of worsts is getting Jo's dad killed. From what Ellen, Jo's mother, says, her husband went on a hunt with John, and John used him as bait and left him. Ultimately, this left Jo without a father, and Ellen without a husband.

10 Rowena: Attack Dog Spell

When we are introduced to Rowena in the series, we see a quirky red-haired witch intent on creating her own coven. While she's powerful, the Grand Coven rejected Rowena for her odd and often extreme ways. At first, she seems decent, rescuing two prostitutes and wanting to introduce them to power. However, when threatened, she uses one as a prop for her escape. She turns the woman into an attack dog, who quickly bleeds out after the spell runs its course.

9 Crowley: Killing Those Sam and Dean Had Saved Before

Since we like Crowley in the later seasons and consider him more of an ally to Sam and Dean, we forget that he started out as a big bad. In Season 8, he threatens to kill someone they had previously saved until they stop the trials. One of his victims is Sarah Blake, a charismatic side character we met and loved in Season 1. Had Sam met her at a different time (he was still grieving Jess), they might have become an item. Horrified, Sam has to watch Sarah killed despite all the wards and protections he and Dean put up to try to protect her from Crowley.

8 Chuck/God: Bringing The Dark Spirits

Chuck/God has been mainly a side character even though he is the mastermind behind it all. In Season 14, he tries to manipulate Sam and Dean into killing Jack. Sam notices how Chuck watches with glee as Dean almost kills Jack. In the end, Chuck kills Jack. Sam and Dean discover that Chuck has been playing their lives for entertainment all this time. Angry with the brothers, Chuck decides to bring back all the dark spirits they vanquished over the seasons, even back as far as Season 1. He's decided to end this world and to make that ending painful and tragic.

7 Ruby: Using Sam to Bring Lucifer

Ruby seems the anomaly, a demon with a heart of gold. She trains Sam to take down Lilith, feeding him demon blood to make him more powerful.

RELATED: Supernatural The 10 Strongest Female Leads

In the end, she wanted Sam to kill Lilith because she knew that Lilith was the last seal needed to be broken in order to bring Lucifer into this world. She played all sides convincingly, betraying both brothers in the end, who had come to trust her.

6 Bobby: Becoming a Vengeful Spirit

After Bobby dies, his spirit stays attached to his whiskey flask, which Dean keeps in his honor. Initially a helpful entity, Bobby points out research that helps the brothers in their demon hunting. However, he starts to develop into a vengeful spirit, like the ones that they all have vanquished before. Right now, he is still Bobby, but Sam and Dean realize that he won't be for long if he doesn't cross over.

5 Mary Winchester: Killing American Hunters

The British Men of Letters recognize Mary as the perfect tool for them to get rid of the American Hunters. Not only is Mary a good and strong hunter, but she is also trusted by the other hunters. This means that when she shows up at the doorstep, they will let her in. While Mary was brainwashed to do this, she still did it, and she effectively whipped out many hunters and allies.

4 Jack: Killing Mary Winchester

While Dean feared Jack from the start since he was the son of Lucifer, Jack initially is good. When he has his powers, he saves people constantly and sees Dean, Sam, and Cas as his idols. Even when his powers are taken away and he becomes fully human, he still puts his life on the line to help others.

RELATED: Supernatural 10 Times the Show Broke Our Hearts

But a soulless Jack is different. It's not that he is bad, it's that he doesn't feel morality. He kills Mary because he wants her to stop talking. He didn't intend to kill her, and he even tries to bring her back. However, he can't, and Mary remains dead.

3 Cas: Tries to Become God

Season 7 Cas takes in souls, making him more powerful. He becomes full of ego and power. This leads him to kill the angels and people that don't support him. He becomes dangerous in his own idea of right and wrong, believing that he must rule with a firm fist. Later, he does sacrifice himself (luckily, he survives), but for much of Season 7, he is the villain.

2 Dean: Kills Amy Pond in Front of Her Son

Early Dean had a strong sense of right and wrong, seeing the world only in black and white. When he finds out that Amy (a kitsune) was killing to help her sick son (another kitsune), he sees her as evil and without much hesitation, kills her. She had been a friend of Sam's when they were teens, and she saved Sam. She lived her life trying to live off dead blood, until her son got sick. Sam tells Dean to let her go, as she stopped killing and won't again. Dean goes anyway and kills her in front of her young son.

1 Sam: Kills Dean's Daughter and Feels No Remorse

Dean has a one night stand with an Amazon woman (though he doesn't know that she is an Amazon at the time). This results in her conceiving a child, who grows to be a 16-year old girl in only a few days. As part of her initiation, she must kill her father. Sam stops her by killing her. While this is bad, what is worse is that he tells Dean that Dean went soft by not doing it himself.

Adding one more thing to our favorite brothers, they also left Adam, their half-brother, behind.

NEXT: Supernatural 10 Reasons Why God/Chuck Is The True Villain of the Series

source https://screenrant.com/supernatural-main-characters-worst-things-done/

[ikuyeah]

Stranger

I wrote this for @scenarios-on-ice, for one of her head canons about training with Yuri. It was supposed to be just that but it’s out of control now so it’s basically a Reader/Yuri P fic where you’re part of YOI. 

If you liked this also check out my other blog @imaginegladions for Pokémon Imagine things and of course my blog for random other anime imagines.

You can find this fic on AO3.

And you can find the “Epic & Powerful” music here.

poputchik

попутчик: (n) stranger you connect to on a trip

Unlike a travel companion you’ve known before, a ‘poputchik’ is a complete stranger who happens to travel in the same direction and share your coupe on a train. You are free to open up completely to your best friend pro tempore, because you know that the person will get off at a far away stop, never to be seen again, taking your secrets safely with them... ...unless you become lifelong friends from thereon.

SKATE 4

“It’s Lilia Baranovskaya!”

You raised your head, eyes finding the ex-prima ballerina of the Bolshoi Ballet quickly as she made her way through the Sports Championships Club with a grace born from years of dancing.

Lilia’s shoes clicked loudly against the cold floor as she approached her ex-husband, head held high with an air of impatience, ignoring Yakov’s thankful greeting. “So, which ones are they?” She turned her head, scanning the group of skaters on the rink who were gathering at the edge of the rink – closer to her – curiously. Her calculating green eyes stopped on you for a moment before continuing. “If I don’t like what I see, I’m going home.”

You felt yourself being hauled forward by Mila who was watching the exchange with all the excitement of a vulture watching their prey die. Before you could ask why, Lilia stepped forward again, standing in front of Yuri Plisetsky.

The skater looked up at her, skeptical. “Who is this hag?” You hear him ask and inwardly groan at his manners.

Lilia was unfazed however and proceeded to pull at Yuri’s cheeks. “No cavities.” She announces and you wonder what that has to do with anything as she reaches down to pull Yuri’s leg up into a split. “Physically, he’s abysmal.” She said, undeterred by Yuri’s shouts of pain. She turned to Yakov, nodding. “We start from square one with ballet lessons.”

From Mila’s other side, you hear a grunt. “Do what you want.” Yakov said with a sigh as if pained.

“What the hell?” Yuri pulled himself back up into a standing position, glaring up at the older woman.

“I will choreograph your free program.” Lilia said, setting her unquestionable gaze back onto him. “First, I have decided your next goal.” She reached out to cup Yuri’s cheek like a teacher guiding her student with words of empowerment. “Become this season’s principal – no, prima ballerina.” She said, her conviction sending chills up your spine.

“That is…” Her gaze turned cold. “If you’re willing to sell your soul to win.”

“P-Prima?” Instead of Yuri, Mila’s voice cut through the tense atmosphere bringing you back down to Earth.

You watched curiously as Yuri’s confusion turned to determination and almost felt like smirking yourself as he spoke. “If selling my soul is all it takes to win.” He tilted his head and smiled. “I’ll give you my whole body, no holds barred.”

You grinned. A typical Yuri Plisetsky answer.

Once Lilia was satisfied with his answer, her head snapped towards you and in the blink of an eye you found yourself face to face with the intimidating woman Yakov was once married to. She eyed you up and down, it felt as though she could see your inadequacy like it was a whole entity in and of itself hiding in your bones from her prying eyes.

“You have more work to do before your debut.” She decided. “But, I will be willing to create a program for you as well.” She said and you smiled up at her only to have a thin finger shoved in front of your face. “If you can prove yourself to me.”

You looked at Yakov, at Mila, and then lastly at Yuri whose skating inspired you every day even if he himself didn’t know it. You turned to Lilia again, full of confidence. “It’s like he said.” You nodded to Yuri. “No holds barred. I’ll prove myself by working with you and by exceeding your expectations.”

Lilia scoffed, turning away from you to face Yuri again.

“And I will, you know.” You raised your voice loud enough for everyone to hear. “I will exceed your expectations. That’s a promise.” You swallowed nervously. “And I always keep my promises.”

Lilia was quiet for a long moment in contemplation. “Go home and pack up your things. You’ll be living with me from now on to practice.” She said to Yuri before turning back to you with one eyebrow raised. “You are?”

“[Name] [Last Name].” You answered.

“[Last Name], pack your things as well.” She straightened out her coat. “Yakov will take you both to my house.”

“Oh.” She turned sharply to leave, her eyes now on her ex-husband. “And don’t think I want to get back together with you just because of this.”

You snorted out a laugh as Yakov started loudly protesting.

This was going to be an eventful few months.

  “No! No! No! Not like that at all!”

You have never felt as pained as you did in your entire life than you did in this moment, training side-by-side with Yuri whilst being yelled at half in Russian and half in English for your own benefit.

“Throw yourself away! Your past self is dead!” Lilia shouted. “People who can be reborn as many times as necessary are the strong ones.”

Your toes felt sore and you were dizzy almost to the point of passing out as you repeated the routine for what felt like the hundredth time. Yuri turned a fraction of a second faster than you and jumped but when you attempted the jump your joints shivered with fatigue and you crashed down onto the floor with a roll conscious enough not to land heavily on your limbs since you will be needing them.

You looked up, expecting Yuri to still be dancing but he was standing still debating whether or not to help you up.

“Авось!” Lilia shouted and you recognized the word. She’d been calling you that ever since you tripped during the first run of this routine. You googled it while you were taking a break.

авось: (n) blind trust in sheer luck

In other words, you were an unskilled tagalong who relied on blind luck and really you couldn’t blame Lilia for thinking so. You weren’t as naturally talented as Yuri or as experienced as Victor. You weren’t even as knowledgeable about skating as Mila. You were just a kid with dreams of skating and nothing else to your name.

You had nothing without skating.

“Sorry.” You straightened yourself up, ignoring the shiver of your bones and the cry of your muscles to stay seated. “It won’t happen again.” You say as you start from the beginning, counting aloud to distract you from the ringing in your ears.

Your body moved swiftly despite the pain, your muscles moving by reflex until it was muscle memory and your thoughts started running off in another direction.

Throw yourself away, Lilia had said.

You threw your head back, your entire body starting to respond to the routine. Suddenly, you felt it all. You felt it all so deeply that it was verging on too much. And just as you were getting into a completely transcendent state of mind –

“Enough.”

You stopped, your hands fumbling for the nearest steady surface as you breathed erratically.

Lilia stepped closer to you and lifted your chin with her hand. “You are not completely hopeless.” She acknowledged before turning away. “A break, and then you will both get ready for dinner.”

“Ah.” Yuri muttered, clearing his throat. You turned your head to face him, remembering that he too was there. But, it looked like he didn’t move from the spot he’d been in when you fell. “Tch, don’t get too confident.” He said, walking past you. “Know your limits, you idiot.”

You blinked dumbly at him as he walked away from you and then smiled.

You were a fool. A complete fool if you thought that one tiny moment of victory meant you’d achieved whatever goal it was that Lilia had for you both. Training continued to be brutal and Lilia’s strict curfew was followed or else it would be even worse for you the next day. She and Yakov bickered incessantly, so frequently that it became the background noise to torture and every time you heard it you would wince despairingly.

And it didn’t help that Yuri was as distant as ever, as if that moment during training had never happened.

You had hoped that you and he could at least talk, maybe even bond over shared pain.

You don’t know where you’d gotten that idea from, really. He was called the Ice Tiger of Russia for a reason after all.

Even if he was nice, you wouldn’t have time for niceties anyway. Because Lilia had given you the program.

If Yuri’s free program was fiery and daring, yours was quiet and tenuous. It gave the impression of softness with a hidden agenda just beneath the surface that no one could guess until at the very end you’d reveal yourself, your fear, your uncertainty, your vulnerability, your inferiority and naiveté.

Your theme was Kindness and Lilia’s program honored its good and bad sides equally.

The simplicity of your agenda was supposed to show many things. The easiest way to explain is that…

You had no agenda.

True kindness doesn’t need reason.

You thought of this as you watched Lilia critique Yuri’s free leg. “It’s no good at all.” She says, you’ve long since stopped feeling offended for Yuri. He wasn’t perfect, you knew this. You were just afraid that Lilia – holding his skating in her hands – would blur the skating that you loved so much beyond recognition.

But, you lived with them. And you saw it.

Lilia’s toughness would be the sharp edge that would straighten the edges of the uncut diamond of Yuri’s talent. Her flames would mold his skill into something that could be used and shown without hesitation.

In a way, it was like watching him really become himself on the ice.

“Your response?” Lilia asked.

Yuri steadied his breathing and caught sight of you before straightening himself up.

“Yes, ma’am!”

You smiled again, watching as Yuri went back to the position Lilia had told him to start with. You felt Lilia’s piercing green glare on you and you stood up, ready to receive her instructions.

And sure enough, she ordered you into the rink.

“Your response?” She asked.

And really, what other answer was there but yes?

You nodded, still grinning with excitement. “Yes, ma’am.”

  You’re seated cross-legged in your room with your laptop on your lap.

Refreshing the page again, you groaned as it comes up empty.

You’d been waiting for the assignments all night and luckily Lilia hasn’t come in to check on you.

It was way past curfew but you really wanted to know.

A knock on your door sent you jumping off your bed, stashing your laptop under your pillow, and feigning sleep as it creaked open and heavy footsteps echoed across the carpeted floor.

Not clicking, thudding.

Not Lilia, then.

“You can get up. I know you’re not sleeping.” Yakov sat by the edge of your bed like a grandfather about to tell his smallest grandchild a story.

You sighed and sat up, pulling out your laptop. “Please don’t tell her?” You pleaded.

Yakov seemed to mutter something unsavory at the mention of his ex-wife and then turned to you, extending a hand full of wrapped sweets to you. He dropped the tiny mountain onto your lap and you eagerly sorted through them, unwrapping a small packet of pink sugar mallows and popping one into your mouth with a happy sigh.

“It was supposed to be just Yura.” He finally said after almost a minute of nothing but your happy chewing. “You weren’t part of the plan until-” He stopped. “Until Vitya mentioned your free skate last year.”

You remembered that free skate well. You’d been desperate, nearly at the bottom of the pack in your last year at Juniors. You’d come back from being last ranked in your short program with a stunning free skate that left you second overall.

“Yura was angry that Vitya remembered some random skater from a different bracket but didn’t remember him who he promised a program to when he was still young.” You smiled at that, hearing the angry shouts of the younger Russian in your mind.

“Vitya saw potential in you both. Yura and yourself.” He said sagely. “In that sense…”

You nodded, knowing what he was about to say.

“In that sense, we are the same.”

Your phone vibrated and you shut off the alarm, refreshing the page one more time.

“The assignments!” You shouted, wide eyes turning urgently to Yakov. “Tell Yura they’re out! Quick!” You ushered him out the door, watching him run down the halls towards Yuri’s room.

You shut the door, your hand ran through your hair in a fit of frustration.

You’d just called him Yura.

“He didn’t hear you. What he doesn’t know-” You try to convince yourself but it was undeniable. Beneath your chest, your heart was racing.

“What the hell is happening?”

SKATE 6

It was a little late, that was the biggest flaw in your decision.

The hotel room bed was soft. The temperature was cold but the blankets were fluffy and warm around you. And you’d jammed your earphones into your ears, blasting Panic! at the Disco.

The song you were listening to reminded you of a song you’d forgotten to download. It was the first Panic! at the Disco song you heard, back when you were a bit younger and going through an admittedly awkward edge phase.

“I’m going numb hmm hmm hmm hmm.” You hummed. “It’s a fucking drag.”

You clicked your tongue. You needed to know what the lyrics to the song.

You could have googled it. You could have taken note and searched it tomorrow. But, it was late and the moon was full. There’s a theory that full moons made people crazy which is why people came up with werewolves.

In hindsight, you’d decided to blame the unreasonably late night call you’d made to Yuri Plisetsky on that same theory.

“What the fuck?” Yuri hissed through the phone, sounding like a strangled cat.

You laugh internally at the witty cat joke. That should say something about your sanity but you’re far too out of it to care. “Do you know the lyrics to this Panic! at the Disco song?” You asked, humming to the wordless tune that has been stuck in your head.

“You couldn’t fucking Google it?” He grumbled.

“I could have.” You grinned, settling back into your feather stuffed hotel room pillows. “I didn’t want to suffer alone.” You teased.

“Ass.” Yuri retorted but the sound of mattress creaking signaled his decision to sit up and keep talking to you. “What’s the matter, nervous about your first Senior skate, huh?” He taunted.

You knew the natural order of things. You’d come back with a witty retort. Not in a million years. And then say something to insult him back. What? Are you scared I’ll be better than you and actually win in my first Senior skate?

You decide to turn a complete one-eighty on the natural order by being honest instead.

“Yeah.” You admitted. “I’m terrified.”

You’d predicted the long silence but that didn’t mean it didn’t make you uncomfortable. You could hear him breathing, the faint sound of the air conditioner humming away. You were contemplating Yuri’s Ice Tiger status and how much cold he could actually withstand when the Russian spoke again.

“I hate to lose.” He said.

You scoff. “That’s pretty obvious.” You grin, unable to stop yourself.

“That’s why I can’t be scared to skate.” He added. “I hate to lose so much that I can’t be scared because if I get scared I’ll think about every single thing that could make me lose and then I’ll definitely lose.”

“Oh.” You run your thoughts through that concept and it calms you down enough that you were finally able to lay down and relax. “That makes sense. Thanks for helping me out.”

“It better help or you woke me up at midnight before a competition for nothing.” He retorted but the teasing lilt in his voice assured you that he didn’t make that comment in contempt. “Go to sleep, you idiot. Or I’ll make you look bad tomorrow.” The creak of the mattress yet again, this time signaling the end of this conversation.

You settle into your own bed happily, it already went better than you expected. You knew better than to push for more no matter how much you wanted to keep talking. “Alright.”

“And [Name]?”

You hummed.

“The song is Nicotine.”

You smiled. “Thanks.”

SKATE 7

You panted, arms raised in an embrace to the world as you ended your Free Skate.

Canada was a great crowd and very accepting despite your rookie status. Your free skate was almost flawless except for a small trip up that Lilia would no doubt scold you for. But, it didn’t matter, you secured your place, you were in third, it was time to run.

It was time to watch Yuri’s Free Skate.

Lilia seemed to sense your intentions and stopped mid-tirade to stare at you and nod. “We will watch it together.” She said and you both left, arriving just in time to see Yuri off.

“I didn’t ask you to come. Idiot, you’re pushing too hard again.” He grumbled but you only grinned.

In Yuri speak, that was basically…

“You didn’t have to go out of your way to watch, you’re probably too tired from your own free skate anyway.”

“I wanted to see.” You say as Yuri responds with one of those loud ‘haaah?’s that always makes you laugh. “I wanted to watch you become prima.”

Yuri almost looks like he’s going to pick a fight with you but when faced with your sincerity he could only roll his eyes. “You might as well watch to get tips or something.”

He will never say anything like “thanks for your support” or “I appreciate you being here” but that’s fine.

You never asked for thanks anyway.

  A knock on your door woke you from the short nap you’d mistakenly fallen into. You groaned sleepily as you reached for the towel that was now hanging haphazardly on the edge of the bed. As you hung the towel on the rack in the bathroom, there was another incessant knock.

“I’m coming!” You said, hurrying to the door and nearly ramming into it in your haste. “I’m going to bed soon, Lilia-”

“Tch,” A familiar noise greeted your ears as you came face-to-face with Yuri Plisetsky in an apron. “That’s a shame. If you sleep, you’ll miss out on pirozhki.” He said blandly.

You stared at him, unable to believe that this was your life. Standing in your sleeping clothes and being visited at night by an internationally known ice skater holding a tray of baked buns with assorted fillings.

“Are you going to let me in or what?” Yuri hissed, no doubt not wanting to be caught by Lilia just ten minutes before curfew.

“Lilia is going to kill the both of us if she finds out we’re up past ten.” You said as you let him in to place the tray on your table. You should be telling him to get himself and his pirozhki away from you but the earnest and proud look on his face made you want to let him stay.

“She’s too busy arguing with Yakov.” He stopped, taking a seat near the table and nabbing a pirozhki off the tray. “Did you-Did you see Katsuki’s free skate?” He asked tentatively.

You sat down adjacently to him and took a bread bun for yourself, biting into the still warm snack. “Yuri On Ice, it was… fascinating.”

“Just not as fascinating as him and Victor doing tonsil tennis on international television?” He made gagging motions and you couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh. “Every fan is either celebrating or mourning, it’s breaking the internet.” He complained, waving around his own phone for effect.

“I wouldn’t say it’s a shocking revelation.” You admit, biting into the pirozhki and humming satisfactorily. “This is amazing.” You sigh.

Yuri sat up excitedly. “Isn’t it?” He grinned before realizing what you’d just said. “Wait, what do you mean it isn’t shocking?” Yuri tilted his head.

“Well, he left a successful ice skating career for this man who arguably is pretty old himself in skating years. If he was looking for someone to coach, then the reasonable choice is a younger person like you.” You pointed at him with your pirozhki. “And even then, it wouldn’t make sense. Victor is spontaneous but not unreasonable. If he wanted to coach someone for the sake of it, he’d learn coaching from Yakov first.”

“Your point is?” Yuri asked, having finished his own pirozhki and was reaching out for another one.

“Yuri,” You said seriously. “No one travels across the world to coach someone they barely know for absolutely nothing in return. Not unless they’re seriously in love with that person.” You said, finishing off your own pirozhki.

“You’re saying Victor is in love with the pig?” His voice went up an octave in incredulity. “That’s-” He made another gagging noise.

You laughed. “You’ll understand when you’re older.” You pat him on the head, evading the hand that meant to swap yours away.

“You’re not older than me.” He crossed his arms and leaned back.

“There’s a lot of things we don’t know about each other.” You say, reaching a hand out to him. “[Name] [Last Name], I moved to Saint Petersburg to skate and now I have to win or else I’m seriously screwed.” You joked nervously, sighing in relief when Yuri takes your hand to shake it.

“Yuri Plisetsky, I’m going to be the champion of this year’s Grand Prix Final.”

SKATE 8

 When you get off the plane, you expected a grumpy Russian greeting from your intimidating rink mate turned unlikely friend. But, of course, Yuri Plisetsky continues to defy your expectations.

You find him somewhat huddled into a corner, hiding from the force of nature you knew were called Yuri’s Angels.

You laughed, approaching him and parking your own suitcase next to his animal print backpack. Your bag tag – a zebra print id case on a leather strap – had been a gift from him once he’d found out you were amiable to animal prints. When you both were in Canada, you trolled the shops for every animal print object you could find and although you weren’t as addicted to them as him you had fun. You even got a few funny selfies out of it.

“You can’t hide from them forever.” You rolled your eyes at the hunched blonde trying desperately to hide under his jacket hoodie.

Yuri growled irritably. “Watch me.”

Understandable, you thought. He’d just gotten off the plane, he was exhausted and probably wanted nothing more than to sleep and get ready for the Rostelecom Cup. He won’t have the patience to deal with fans.

From the corner of your eye, you saw a few of the Yuri’s Angels pointing at you. You looked up at them curiously and waved to them from across the room. Some of them aww’d and the others glared at you. It only left you more confused than before.

“They recognize you from my Instagram post.” Yuri comments, jabbing at his phone no doubt forming another Instagram post from the pictures he’d taken while he was getting off the plane.

“Great.” You muttered, wincing at the heated glares they were sending your way. “Good luck trying to get past that.”

Yuri looked up from his phone at you and then at the Yuri’s Angels who screamed as soon as his eyes across the room at them. “Come with me.”

You blinked, tilting your head at him. “What?” You asked.

“Someone’s picking me up. You can come too.” He shrugged, clearly trying to come off as blasé. “It’s the least I could do for sticking those…” He gestured to the Angels who screamed again. “Them, on you.”

You smiled gratefully at him and followed him out the side door. There were, quite a few cars waiting for passengers but none of them screamed here for ice skating legend Yuri Plisetsky. You were about to ask which one was his when Yuri broke out into a sprint towards a small blue-green car.

“Grandpa!” He jumped onto the older man in a newsboy cap, arms and legs clinging to him like a koala to a tree.

Your eyes widened at the sight, both hands coming up to cover your slackened jaw. “Adorable.”

A loud crack broke through the touching scene and the older man crumpled to the ground as Yuri jumped off of him and started apologizing while stroking his back.

“Oh God.” You shot after him, clutching the older man’s arms to help him stand. “Don’t worry, this happens all the time with my grandfather.” You say in the most soothing voice you could muster.

“Why, thank you.” The older Russian straightened up and pat your arm in thanks. “Yuratchka definitely has good taste in friends. I’m Nikolai, Yura’s grandfather.” He tipped his hat off to you.

You flushed at the compliment and bowed. “Thank you.”

“This is [Name]. She’s riding with us, if that’s okay?” He asked in a surprisingly sweet tone.

Nikolai looked at his grandson then at you then back at his grandson like he knew something that both of you didn’t. “Of course, she’s welcome anytime.”

 “Yuri, I made my pirozhkis for you.” Nikolai handed Yuri a warm paper bag.

Yuri dug in, taking one bun into his hands. He turned his head, extending the paper bag to you with wide sparkling eyes. “Try one! It’s the best.” He smiled widely.

You reached out to take one, still staring dumbly into his surprisingly radiant smile. You chew on the bread thoughtfully and hum loudly. “Delicious.” You grinned. “Better than Yuri’s.”

“Aren’t they?” Yuri cheered, his face blanking out as he recalled something. “Grandpa, have you ever had Katsudon?” He asked.

“Pork cutlet bowls?” You chimed in.

Yuri nodded. “I had them back in Japan. They’re really good.”

“They are.” You say quietly, eyes going to Nikolai whose expression turned unreadable.

He grunted. “Are the pirozhkis not very good?” He asked.

You and Yuri shot each other worried looks.

“No! That’s not what I meant!”

“Your pirozhki is great, Mister Nikolai!”

You were both so busy trying to reassure him that you almost missed the announcement.

Our hero, Victor Nikiforov has returned to Russia as a coach in the Figure Skating Grand Prix Series.

You turned your worried gaze to Yuri who’d grown silent to listen to the rest of the report.

“Yura.” You whispered.

Yuri snapped out of his contemplation, looking at you expectantly. “Yeah?”

You blinked a couple of times and then smiled. “You’ll be the Champion this year, right?” You gave him a thumbs up.

Yuri smirked. “You bet.”

“I’d like you all to focus on Yuuri at the Rostelecom Cup.”

Despite skating in the same rink as Victor Nikiforov, you’d never really spoken to him.

You and Yuri thanked Nikolai for dropping you off at the hotel and you started dragging your luggage along behind him.

Yuri looked down at your suitcase and stopped walking. “I can help you with that.” He said, staring down at his feet.

You looked down at your suitcase and shake your head. “It’s not heavy. It’s fine-” You nearly tripped as Yuri nabs the suitcase from you, walking away with your luggage shamelessly. “Hey!” You chase after him, gaining the attention of the reporters and one Victor Nikiforov.

“Hey, it’s Yurio!”

You raised a brow at him. “Yurio?”

Victor strolled across the room and threw an arm around Yuri, posing for the cameras. “Did you see the short program I put together for Yurio?” He asked, shooting the press a winning smile.

You saw Yuri’s fist colliding with Victor’s coffee and you were honestly not as surprised as the reporters were when it hit the floor.

“Quit acting like you’re still the top Russian figure skater.” He pointed at himself. “I’m the star at this event.” Victor grinned at him.

Your eyes caught the cameras, still recording the drama that would no doubt frame Yuri as the asshole up and coming skater being disrespectful towards his senior skaters. You stepped forward, taking Yuri’s forearm. “Hey, could I have my luggage back if you’re going to hang out with Mister Nikiforov?” You asked.

Victor’s eyes lit up curiously as he peered down at you. “Oh, Yurio made a friend?” He asked, poking your arm.

“She’s not a zoo exhibition for you to poke.” Yuri eased you behind him, angling you away from the cameras.

“Ah! That’s rude of me. I’m Victor. Nice to meet you!” He said, amiably extending his hand for you to shake.

You stared at his hand and reached out tentatively. “Nice to-”

“I’ll take you to your room.” Yuri insisted, taking your forearm and dragging you to the elevators.

That was going to give him the wrong impression too but at least it was better than that hooligan picking fights impression. They wouldn’t be able to prove that anything happened between you two.

Not that anything would happen, you’re just friends after all.

Yuri stuck his foot in between the elevator doors jut as they were closing, looking irritably at the group of skaters bickering in front of another elevator. “Honestly, are these people really what I’m up against? What a mess.” He turned to look at the other occupant of the elevator and groaned in frustration.

It was Yuuri Katsuki.

“Oh! Yurio!” He smiled when he saw you behind Yuri and you waved, glad to see a familiar face. “And [Name]! Good to see you again.” He greeted.

“Hah?” Yuri squinted at him. “You know each other?” He asked, looking at you and Yuuri.

You nodded. “We met before, through Phichit.”

“He still has that selfie of us.” He laughed.

“Oh no.” You laughed along with him.

Yuuri Katsuki had a down to Earth vibe that you appreciated. When the skating world got too larger than life than you could handle, you’d shoot Yuuri an email or chat with him and Phichit. It was a stark contrast compared to Yuri’s wilder more exciting but contained energy.

“You’ll make the Grand Prix Final if you get higher than 4th here, right?” You said, smiling sympathetically at him. “Good luck. I know you can do it.”

Yuuri seemed startled by your faith but smiled back at you thankfully.

“Of course, I’ll be first.” Yuri scoffed. “And if you don’t make it, I’ll get Victor to stay in Russia.”

You watched Yuuri’s expression fall and frowned, disappointed in him for being so petty. “Yura-”

“This is my stop.” Yuuri interrupted. Pulling on a tight unconvincing smile, he stepped out of the elevator. “I’ll see you both later.” He waved, the elevator doors closing with a snap leaving you alone with Yuri.

You stand next to him, silent. “You don’t have to do this, you know?” Yuri hummed at you, not really knowing what you mean. “You don’t have to act like such an asshole.”

“Think whatever you want.” Yuri frowned, crossing his arms. “We’re not even friends so why should I care?”

Your nearly watered and your heart clenched painfully in your chest but this was Yuri you told yourself. His words were usually paradoxical to his actions. And inspite of the severity of his words, Yuri still lugged your suitcase behind him and opened the door to your hotel room for him.

You contemplated his behavior, how he placed himself between you and Victor, between yourself and the cameras, how he chose the path with the least people and how he seemed to grow irritable when you were talking to Yuuri.

“You liar.” You smiled.

“Hah?” Yuri tilted his head, leaning against the doorframe.

You grin at him. “If you think that I’ll leave you alone just because there are nicer or more famous people than you then you clearly don’t remember the promise I made.”

Yuri squinted at you and then his eyes widened, remembering. “I will exceed your expectations.”

“I always keep my promises. So, you’re stuck with me.” You wink. “Now, show me what your favorite shops are in Moscow.” You said, waving your animal print wallet in front of him. “I have a friend to cheer up!”

 “Ah, Yura woke me up too early.” You complained, stretching your arms over your head.

Yuri had cheered up and was so psyched that morning to do his program in his home country he’d banged on your hotel door until you finally had no choice but to get up.

Lilia had caught him in the middle of the act but you were already awake.

It looked like she and Yakov had been chatting beforehand but you couldn’t tell if they were fighting or not. They tended to keep cooler heads around Yuri and yourself.

Yakov looked more amused than anything, though. He was a giant marshmallow under his strictness and lecturing.

“You two are getting along better.” Lilia said, sitting primly on the bench with you. She looked a bit out of place next to you in her designer coats and killer heels. You wonder how her legs don’t feel cold in just leggings partially covered by tall boots.

“He’s not so prickly in person.” You say but as soon as you say it you realize that’s not really the right way to describe being friends with Yuri Plisetsky. “I guess, you could say I’ve learned how to speak Yuri?” You giggle and Lilia smiles at you briefly. “Um, can I ask you something personal?” You asked.

“Attempt to.” She said, waving a lithe hand in the air signing for you to continue.

You took a deep breath. “Why did you divorce Yakov?” You asked.

Lilia blinked, her eyes briefly flashing towards the entrance where Yakov seemed to be yelling at someone over the phone. “You could say…” She returned her gaze to you, staring at you serenely. “I hadn’t learned to speak Yakov.”

Your eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Grandpa.”

You turned your head from where you were sitting on a bench next to Lilia, alerted by the anguish in Yuri’s voice. Yakov was shaking his head, his head hanging from the bad news. “You’re not-”

You gasped, looking up at the crowd.

“You’re not coming?” Yuri said in a hushed voice.

Lilia looked at you, as if waiting to see what you would do. You nodded towards Yuri. “Talk to him, please.” Standing up abruptly, you turn to leave. “I’ll… see if I can find his grandfather. Talk to him.”

You move as soon as Lilia nods and take the phone from Yakov. “Please make sure Yuri is okay.” You plead, watching Yuri go backstage with his hood up. “Please.”

Yakov looked like he wanted to protest but Lilia laid a hand on his shoulder.

“We’ll take care of him.”

Nodding, you leave to watch for Nikolai’s car, redialing Nikolai’s number.

You were rerouted to voice mail and you inwardly cursed.

“Mister… Nikolai, it’s me. It’s [Name]. I don’t- I don’t know why you aren’t going to see Yuri’s performance. But, please, if you’re sick. Tell us. I-I don’t want Yuri to go out there thinking he’s failed you. Please, it’s important for him to know.” You stop to catch your breath. “This must not make much sense but it’s really important to him that you’re here so please, just… tell us you’re okay. You can explain everything to Yuri after.”

The sound of the beep was loud and made you want to break down.

Your hands were numbed by the cold. So numb that you almost didn’t notice that it was ringing in your hands. You picked it up, your arms shaking with hope and adrenaline. “Mister-”

“[Name], tell him I’m okay.” Nikolai said frankly. “I just have something I need to do before his free skate.”

“Wait, you’re not coming?” You asked, wanting to reach over the phone and shake the older man.

“Tell him I’m okay. That’s what you asked, right? You promise?”

You bit your lip but nodded nonetheless. “Of course. And I keep my promises.”

“He’s in good hands.” He says ambiguously. You don’t know if he means Lilia, Yakov, or yourself. “Goodbye, [Name].”

“Bye.” You say, hanging up and running back into the rink.

 “All the work you did in practice won’t betray you.”

Lilia.

“Listen, have confidence in yourself.”

Yakov.

Yuri was glaring at Yuuri and Victor who was down on one knee, both of them waving enthusiastically at Yuri. It was a curious sight but you didn’t ask, opting to give Yakov back his phone and taking Yuri’s freezing hands in yours.

The Russian looked at you, staring into your eyes. “[Name]?”

“Your grandfather is okay.” You nod. “He believes in you. Yakov and Lilia believe in you. This is your performance. Your agape.” You insisted. “And only you can skate this.”

Yuri stared at you, seemingly searching for something in your gaze.

“The usurper skater of Russia. Yuri Plisetsky, age 15.”

“You can do this.” You said.

Yuri pulled his hands out of yours, grinning. “Of course, I can.”

 He pulled away from you, Yakov, and Lilia. His heart was still racing, still blocking out noise and sight. But you were there. Beyond the confusion, you stood the clear bright north star guiding his blurry path.

‘My Agape, huh?’ He thought, waiting for his music to begin. ‘I’ll definitely win.’

 You wince as he falls from his triple axel. You just know that he’s beating himself up over that one, but he got back up anyway with a beautiful flying sit spin. His quadruple salchow and triple toe loop are a breath of fresh air after that. He’s keeping himself on track, he’s owning his program. It makes you giddy to watch him introduce himself to his home crowd.

The quadruple toe loop starts off his step sequence and it’s a tricky one. You always were mesmerized by it in practice but seeing it in competition, with everything riding on his performance, it was a different kind of beauty.

He’s spinning, and spinning. He’s done it, he’s given everything he could to this performance and it’s made Yakov and Lilia proud. You can tell, because you feel the same way. You sprint ahead to the kiss and cry and shove a taller man in red aside to welcome him.

“Yuri! That was amazing!” You cheer and Yuri is still for a moment before laughter shakes his lean form. “What did I do?” You ask. “And where did you get that cat ear headband?” You pull excitedly at the car ears.

Yakov interrupts, starting in on his usual post-performance lecture. You look at Lilia, her stern face emitting disapproval and you know its not the time or place to argue. “You guys should sit down, maybe.” You ushered all three of them to the kiss and cry bench.

You’ve never been happier to hear the words second place in your entire life.

 “Don’t eat too many pirozhkis tomorrow, okay?” Yakov said, his lecture finally winding down. You and Yuri were heading back to the hotel accompanied by Lilia and Yakov.

Your own performance went, pretty well. You got yourself in the top three but you’d already known that you weren’t as good as the competition. Sara in particular was a tough opponent with all of her experience and Mila was even more talented than both of you, ranked third in the world above Sara. Going up against them excited you beyond belief.

You laughed awkwardly at Yuri’s grumpy response.

“Huh?” Yuri stopped, staring at something ahead of them.

“Yura-” You blink, freezing when you catch the tail end of Victor and Yuuri’s argument.

Victor’s gaze caught Yakov and he moved quickly, clutching onto the older man.

“Yakov! Thank God. You’re the only coach for me!”

You looked at Lilia, at Yura, and then at Yakov. Yup, matching looks of confusion.

“You want to come back?” Yakov asked, drawing a gasp from you and several idling reporters.

Victor looked at Yakov seriously, still clutching his arms. “Could you be Yuuri’s coach tomorrow for just one day?” He asked.

You blinked, breathing in deeply.

“Haaaaaaah?”

   “Feeling any better?” You asked, pushing open the door to Yuri’s room.

Yuri stared at you, taking in your sleeping outfit with wide eyes. “What are you doing here?” He asked.

You rolled your eyes, throwing yourself onto his large bouncy bed and pulling out one of your earphones. “You’re not feeling great. I’m here, as usual, to cheer you up.” You jammed the earphone into his ear. At the moment, you were listening to Stressed Out.

I was told when I get older all my fears would shrink.

But now I’m insecure and I care what people think.

“My name is Blurryface and I care what you think.” You smirked, looking at Yuri.

Yuri made a face at you and crossed his arms. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” He asked.

“It sounds exactly like you.” You teased.

Yuri flushed, leaning forward to protest. “Shut up!”

You laughed, humming along swinging your legs back and forth.

Yuri stared at his kind-of friend, the faint light from your phone sparkling in your eyes and bouncing off of your hair giving you that fabled halo most romance stories said. Not that Yuri read those sort of things. This moment though, no matter how completely mundane, seemed like it was born from a story – which is to say, it wasn’t something that happened to Yuri Plisetsky. Despite this…

“Pretty.” He said quietly, the word slipping past his lips in spite of the loudness of his internal protests.

You turned to him, blinking confusedly at the Russian. “Wha-”

“I said your musical taste is shitty, here-” He covered up quickly, grabbing your phone and pulling up Youtube to search for decent songs.

Except, her Youtube home was full of videos of his performances.

“What the-” He squinted at the little images of him mid jump.

“I really like your skating.” You blushed at being caught but continued to stare at him as if trying to convey your honesty to him through a gaze. “Your skating is amazing.”

Yuri almost blushed but he turned away just in time after pulling up a random Panic! At The Disco song, thankful for the cover of darkness. “Your skating isn’t…” He struggled to find an adjective that would sound like a compliment without sounding like one at the same time. “It isn’t boring.” He nearly winced at how awkward and unconvincing that sounded but kept it in.

You, on the other hand, looked like you’d received the highest praise – it might as well be, since it’s Yuri. In Yuri speak, it’s high praise.

“Haven’t you people ever heard of-” You sang, looking at Yuri expectantly. “Closing a goddamn door, no. Come on, you know it.” You shook his arm.

Yuri rolled his eyes. “No.”

“Come onnnn.” You pushed, yawning.

Yuri debated with himself internally before turning to face you. “Alright, alright. But just this-” He blinked, looking down at you curled up next to him fast asleep. “Once.”

You stirred, turning your head to it was leaning against his side.

Yuri let himself smile a little and pull a blanket over you, the Panic! At The Disco playlist continuing on a loop as his eyelids grew heavy.

“Much better to face these kinds of things… with a sense of poise.” He hummed as he gave into sleep.

 When Lilia went to wake him up the next morning, she was greeted by the sight of you curled up against Yuri’s side. Yuri’s arm was slung over your waist, his normal sleep position – splayed out like a starfish – replaced by a protective cocoon-like position as if he was hiding you from the world.

“Did you expect this would happen?” She asked smiling when Yakov placed his warm hand on her shoulder, a ring shimmering on his finger.

Yakov shook his head. “Not at all, not at first.” He smiled back at his ex-wife. “But I’m starting to see things differently.”

 SKATE 9

Why did Yakov take on that pork cutlet bowl?

Yuri groused, stomping into the rink. He’d been confused the whole morning having woken up curled around you. He didn’t know how exactly to feel about the three minutes he’d spent staring at your sleeping face like a creep with Death of a Bachelor playing in his ear.

He’d pulled the other earphone out of your ear and placed a pillow next to you with a tenderness that surprised him.

Yuri will be the first to admit that he’d grown fond of you.

This wasn’t even the first time you’d slept over. You actually expected Lilia to yell at you both, it’s happened before. You and he had stayed up until early the next morning eating sweets Yakov had given you both fighting over Czar’s – Yuri’s cat – attention by throwing candy wrappers around for him to chase. You’d fallen asleep before him then too with Czar purring next to you and Yuri remembers feeling annoyed that his own cat prefers you over him. He even ignored you the entire day because of it until you shoved Czar into his arms saying that Czar had missed him.

That was the last sleepover you both had after the Grand Prix of Canada.

“You know Yakov, he’s still sweet on Victor.” You shrugged next to him and he blinked, confused at what it was you were talking about. “Earth to Yura? You asked why Yakov took on Yuuri.” You smiled blindingly up at him.

Yuri nearly blushed. Nearly. “I said that out loud?” He asked, he’d been doing that a lot lately around you. It’s like he’s completely lost his filter since you both had gotten close. You stopped walking, placing two fingers on the side of his neck. “Wh-What the hell are you doing?” He spat.

“Are you okay, Yuri? You seem out of it.” You took your fingers away, head tilted in confusion. “You don’t have a fever.” You said.

Yuri shook his head. “I don’t know, [Name].”

You both stared at each other, Yuri wanting to know what was happening and you feeling helpless in the face of Yuri’s obvious uncertainty.

“Yuri!” Yakov called out, getting both of your collective attentions. “Your grandfather’s here.”

Yuri froze, his form tensed up in excitement. He turned to look to you and you smiled at him reassuringly. “You go. I’ll text you when it starts.”

“Okay.” He said breathlessly, walking to the exit with his eyes still tracking your gaze. “Thanks.”

Your heart felt like it stopped for a moment. It was the first time Yuri had ever said thank you to you and you didn’t know what it was for but there was a time when you believed without a doubt that Yuri Plisetsky was the type of person who never ever said thank you. ‘I know him better now’ You mused watching him go. You didn’t know the Yuri that loved his grandfather, then. You didn’t know how much he loved his cat, or how much he loves pirozhki, or that he knows all the lines to every Panic! at the Disco song, or that he was surprisingly good at cooking things that aren’t pirozhki.

There were so many more facets to him than Yuri the skater and they all made Yuri the skater that much better at what he does.

It was all coming together on the ice.

“He’ll definitely make it.” You decided. “The Grand Prix Final is Yuri’s.”

 Nikolai sat next to you, handing you a familiar looking warm paper bag.

“Try them.” He said, an equally warm smile stretched across his face. “It’s a thank you for taking care of Yuratchka.” He smiled knowingly.

You blushed. Nikolai seemed to have that effect on you, seeing through you and into your heart dragging your affection for Yuri out and commending you for it. “I didn’t do anything, really.” You admitted. “I’m just trying to be a good friend. Trying to keep him happy.” You shrug. “He deserves to be happy.”

“I’m glad you think so.” He nodded sagely. “But what about your happiness?” He asked.

You thought on it, the thought of happiness brought about memories of shopping with Yuri, of sleepovers, and of playing with his cat. But most of all, watching Yuri skate made you happier than anything else in the world. “His skating makes me happy.” You answered.

Nikolai chuckled, patting you on the head.

“When Yuri first told me about you, he said you were like… like, попутчик.” He said.

“Poputchik.” You tried saying the word but butchered it so bad that Nikolai only laughed louder at your pronunciation. “What does it mean?” You asked, curiosity piqued from the moment he implied that Yuri had been talking to Nikolai about you.

“It’s like a traveling companion. One that you don’t know. A stranger that you tell all your secrets to because you will eventually go your separate ways and never see each other again.” He glanced at you and saw worry in your face. “I don’t think he intended to become this… attached to you.” Placing a hand on your shoulder, he continued to speak. “But, I can see that he is attached. He’s not going to separate from you anytime soon, [Name]. Trust me.”

You felt relieved. It was like all the air had left your body and had been replaced with hope so much so that you couldn’t let out a single word. So, you kept quiet and nodded, processing this new information.

Nikolai seemed to understand your need for silence and opened the paper bag perched on your lap. “Now, try these pirozhkis. I took all of yesterday making them after all!”

 You left Nikolai’s side to sit near the rink, on the bench where Lilia and Yakov said they would all be watching Yuri together. You still had your own paper bag of pirozhkis in your lap and were finishing up another when Lilia and Yakov pulled back the curtain letting Yuri out. “Yuri!”

“I’m changing the jump composition.” He said, his words clearly aimed at Yakov. He probably hadn’t even realized you were there. His focus was set on nailing this free skate and you leaned back, understanding his need for space. “I’ll reduce the number of jumps on the first half from four to two.”

You gasped, covering your mouth with both of your hands.

It didn’t matter, though. Because Yakov was loud enough to cover up any noise you could have made. “So you’ll have six in the second half?” He asked, frowning when Yuri nodded in agreement. “Do you have a death wish?”

You didn’t need to hear Yuri’s response. You knew exactly why he wanted more jumps in his second half.

He can’t beat Yuuri and JJ without it.

 “Yuri Plisetsky, in third place after his short program.”

It began. You’d seen him do Allegro Appassionato many many times when he practiced with Lilia. But, yet again, seeing it in person, in front of this crowd that would watch him get gold, was different. His home crowd was much more welcoming than last time if it was possible. You could feel the cheers shaking the ground beneath you. Your hands clutched the edge of the rink, excitement building up inside you as Yuri took up his starting position.

The beginning of the program passed quickly, next thing you know he was landing a beautiful triple axel coming from a spiral with an outrageous height.

His step sequence was even more beautiful than his last. But, he was starting to look tired. And with six jumps in his second half, he’d have to be strong.

“Come on, Yura.” You muttered, feeling Yakov’s and Lilia’s hands on your shoulders.

Triple Lutz, that’s one.

All three of you drew closer together. “We believe in you.” You whisper.

Triple Flip, flawless. Quadruple Toe Loop, sensational. That’s three down. He’s halfway through.

You leaned forward. “Please, Yura. Keep it together.” You clenched your fists. The choreographic sequence was a well earned break between jumps and it gave you room to breathe. But, you continued to hold your breath. Your chest felt tight and your heart was beating like crazy as Yuri approached the end of his program.

A Quadruple Salchow followed immediately by a Triple Toe Loop broke the short moment of rest and the fans were starting to stand up. From afar, you could make out the horde of Yuri’s Angels in the stands in their cat ear headbands clutching cat plushies. But, their shouts were background noise to Yuri’s inevitable victory.

A Triple Toe Loop, then a Double Toe Loop. He was very tired now, you could see it in the way his face was drawn together. The only thing keeping him together is sheer will and determination as he went into his final jump.

“Last push. Come on.” Yakov, Lilia, and you leaned forward all tense and brimming with pride at Yuri’s performance.

His last jump was an amazing Triple Axel, Single Loop, and then Triple Salchow.

As he leaned down to spin, Yakov reached behind you to pat Lilia on the back. Lilia was wiping away tears. You felt like crying in joy yourself but as tears started gathering in your eyes you watched Yuri fall to the ground on his knees breathing hard and shouted.

“Yura!” You shouted.

He raised his head to look at you, waving like a crazy person and jumping up and down.

“You did amazing! Oh my God! It was perfect!” You led the charge to the kiss and cry, meeting Yuri as he exited the rink still babbling and spitting out praise like a machine gun. “It was crazy changing your program at the last second but you did it and we’re so proud of you-”

Yuri grinned, his arms wrapping around your waist and almost spinning you around in his glee. He could feel his muscles screaming out to sit down but he continued to hug you and lift you into the air riding on the high of a great performance and your laughter.

Lilia’s loud cough startled him into putting you down but the ballerina only tossed you his jacket and smiled at him with her eyes. “Sit down before you faint.” She said, taking a seat at the kiss and cry.

You held out Yuri’s jacket for him and helped him slide his arms into the sleeves. “You’ll definitely make it into the GPF.” You nod.

“Of course.” Yuri grinned, taking your arm. “Come on.” He said, dragging you to the chairs and patting the chair next to him. It was on his right, Lilia was seated to his left. Yakov usually sat there but since he was coaching Yuuri too he wasn’t around.

You bit your lip. “But, Yuri. I’ve never-”

“I want you to be here. Don’t be ridiculous.” He frowned, his adrenaline being overtaken by his usual demeanor very quickly.

You roll your eyes and drop down onto the seat next to him, cuddling a couple of plush cats to you handing Yuri a medium sized white one with a large grey spot on its head. “At least hold one.”

Yuri grumbled about it but still took it, squeezing it under one arm.

“Yuri Plisetsky from Russia.” You reached out to hold Yuri’s forearm, staring up at the big screen where Yuri’s name had appeared. “His free skate score is 199.87. A personal best!” They announced and you blinked. Where did that place him? You thought and you swore at yourself for not paying more attention to everyone else’s scores.

Next to Yuri’s score his overall place appeared.

First Place.

“Yura.” You grinned at him but he was still frowning as if frozen in place. “Yura?” You poked his arm.

Lilia placed a hand on his arm and spoke into his ear. “Yuri, you are first.”

Yuri snapped out of his haze and hopped up, waving at the crowd with a wide smile.

“He’s first. He has won his place in the Grand Prix Final!”

Yuri was jumping up, waving his arms making his fans scream in joy. “How’d you like my free skate, Katsudon?” You laugh at his playground taunt.

 From the ice, you caught sight of Yuuri’s Quadruple Toe Loop flopping and turning into a single. You shot forward, standing next to Yakov who was face palming. You felt Yuri’s familiar presence taking his place next to you.

“What is the Katsudon doing?” He clicked his tongue, clearly disappointed. Yuri really did look up to Yuuri, at least as a rival in skating. You knew that. But, it was becoming more apparent the closer the Grand Prix Final was. You could see from the look in Yuri’s eyes that he wanted Yuuri to succeed. He wanted Yuuri to give him a challenge.

By the time he’d two-footed his landing for his Triple Loop, Yuri was close to tearing his hair off his head. “You idiot.” You heard him mutter, cupping his hands around his mouth. You bite your lip as he opens his mouth to wish Yuuri good luck.

A low whistle interrupted him and you whip around to glare at the culprit.

It was that guy you pushed aside in Canada, a man you now know to be JJ, all around bane of Yuri’s existence. After Canada, you’d heard nothing but complaints from Yuri about this man and after that first impression, you really couldn’t blame him. Especially since he’d taken to taunting Yuri for supporting Yuuri.

“Yuri, [Name], let’s go.” You turned sadly to the struggling Yuuri, shot one last look at JJ, and then walked backstage with Yuri.

“Well,” You started, clearing your throat. “He’s a regular asshole.”

Yuri let out a surprised laugh. “There’s an irregular asshole?” He asked, grinning.

“You should know, you’re one of them.” You returned his grin with one of your own. “Asshole on the outside, marshmallow within. You get it from Yakov.” You wink.

“Yakov is all marshmallow.” Yuri rolled his eyes.

You hummed, contemplating this. “Nope, he’s fifty percent grump.”

Yuri stopped walking and you turned to face him. The look on Yuri’s face was one you hadn’t seen before. It was serious, it made you feel like gravity had pinned your feet down in the spot where you were standing. “Yuri?” Your fingers fumbled together just so they could have something to do, anything to escape the unsettling tension that had fallen over you.

“I think there’s something I should… tell you-”

           “That’s it! JJ takes First in the Rostelecom Cup!”

Yuri and you turn to the closest television and watch as JJ is showered in confetti, waving to his adoring public. “I can’t believe it.” You and Yuri muttered. “That asshole.”

 You and Yuri separate on your way out of the rink.

“Good luck on your talk with Yuuri.” You waved.

Yuri shoved a hand into his pocket, his other hand clenching around his paper bag of pirozhki. You’d given him the last few in your paper bag to give to Yuuri. It was Yuri’s idea, though. Giving Yuuri the rest of your pirozhki to cheer him up.

“It’s normal, right?” He said, shrugging. “To give someone a gift when it’s almost his birthday.”

You blinked at him. “Yuri, even I didn’t know it was almost his birthday.”

“Maybe you’re just a bad friend.” He retorted.

You laughed. “Yeah, maybe. Sorry, though.” Yuri raised a brow at you and you grinned in response. “Since, I’m a bad friend.”

“I-I didn’t mean it like-” He stuttered, you very rarely made him stutter so seeing him react this way made your heart flutter in your chest.

You laughed lightly behind your hand. “I know.”

“You’re a great friend, [Name].” He said, seriously. “You’re my best friend.” He admitted.

You blinked at him and smiled, softer this time. More understanding. “Is that what you wanted to tell me?” You asked.

“Well.” He started but one look in your eyes made him hesitate. “Yeah, I guess so.”

You cough to hide the noise of disappointment that clawed its way up your throat. “I’ll see you back at the hotel.”

 After introducing Yuuri to the Katsudon Pirozhki, the Japanese skater looked around as if something was missing somehow from their surroundings. Yuri didn’t want to ask, so he didn’t until it became hard to ignore that Yuuri was looking for something. “Spit it out, already. What are you looking for?” He groaned, trust the Katsudon to ruin a perfectly peaceful moment. “When I thought I could actually hang out with you, too.”

“Where’s [Name]?” He asked.

Yuri’s hair stood up at the mention of your name, peering suspiciously up at the older skater. “Why do you want to know?” He retorted with a question of his own, feeling a crippling feeling rising up and taking over his body making him want to hit something. “Aren’t you and Victor practically married anyway?” He sneered.

“Well,” Yuuri scratched the back of his head sheepishly at the mention of Victor. “You and [Name] are the same. I was just wondering why she isn’t with you.” He explained.

Yuri stared up at him and made The Face at him. “Hah?”

“You must really like [Name]-chan a lot if you two are always together.” He said, chewing on his second pirozhki. “It’s like Michele and Sara. But not like them at the same time.” Yuuri caught sight of Yuri’s discomfort and swiftly changed his phrasing. “Everyone thinks its nice, actually. It’s nice that you have a friend.”

“Does it really look like that?” Yuri asked.

“Hm?” Yuuri glanced worriedly at the younger Russian. His face was scrunched up, troubled by his confusion. “It kind of does.” He said honestly. “Hey, Yurio… do you- do you like [Name]?” He asked tentatively, ready to run in case he exploded.

But he didn’t. “Of course, I like her.” He blew air out his nose in an almost-snort. “She’s arguably the closest thing I have to a friend. She hugs me at the kiss and cry sometimes and I let her. That kind of thing.” He shrugs.

“I know.” Yuuri said softly, edging closer to the fifteen-year-old. “But, do you… can you imagine going on with life without her?” He asked.

Yuri’s eyes widened. He hadn’t ever thought of what would happen if you weren’t around. Some part of Yuri thought that you and he would just skate forever. It seemed silly now that he would assume that. After all, you and he had lives outside of the ice rink.

Yuri didn’t want to think of you quitting skating. Of you getting married.

He didn’t want to think of you leaving him.

“Yurio?” Yuuri reached out to tap the younger man on the shoulder but Yuri had moved away. “Yurio, are you okay?” He asked.

“I’m fine.” He said firmly. “I told [Name], I said I’d see her back at the hotel. She has her free skate tomorrow against Mila and Sara. She’ll probably be nervous since it’s her first time against them for a spot in the Grand Prix Finals.”

Yuuri nodded, understanding the pressure of qualifying for the GPF having just narrowly made it himself. You got 3rd in the Grand Prix Canada so you’d need to qualify within the top three to make it into the top six. “Tell her good luck for me.”

Yuri stared at him for a moment and nodded. “I will.”

  Your free skate piece was called Epic & Powerful. A really dumb name for a song. But, the moment you heard it, you knew this would be the piece you had to use for your free skate. It was only a minute and forty seconds long, far too short to be a proper skating program. So, you had to track down the composer of the song. That’s actually how you met Phichit. He was friends with the composer on Facebook and the composer was a Japanese man so you’d stayed with Yuuri’s family when you went to Japan to ask the composer to recompose his piece for you so it was long enough to skate to.

That’s how Epic & Powerful becomes No Life: Zero after the movie that the composer wrote Epic & Powerful for.

No Life: Zero for you was a journey of a girl shunned from the world finding home in a boy with the weight of the world on his shoulders. It resonated in you more and more as time passed.

And as you refined your program, your vision of the boy you’d die for – the boy that the girl Shuvi died for in the film – was starting to look a lot like Yuri.

Unlike Shuvi and Riku, it was Yuri who didn’t feel things like love and in this situation you were definitely Riku. In love with someone who would never return your feelings.

Shuvi returned Riku’s feelings in the end, your traitorous thoughts chimed in almost making you lose focus and botch your double axle.

Free practice was almost over anyway you reasoned. It was time to start the women’s free skate.

You started off the second half, having placed third in your short program.

Breathing in deeply, you wait for the music to come on and fling your arms out.

“I… really… love you.”

 “[Name]!”

You hear his voice but it doesn’t really register. You’d finished strong, without any mistakes in your jumps. You did your best, and yet. Why did it feel like you were lacking?

“Second Place!”

Why does it feel like you’re missing something?

“You’re-”

Why? Why? Why?

Warm hands cup your face and your eyes meet steady green irises. “You’re okay.” He insisted, staring into your eyes. Yuri Plisetsky, age fifteen, the boy you realized you were in love with in the middle of your free skate. The free skate that would decide your senior debut. The boy you loved.

“You got second! You beat Sara!”

You were thrilled, of course. But the victory remained an like an app running in the background while you processed this new information.

You were in love with Yuri Plisetsky.

And as Yuri – the boy you loved – sat you down at the kiss and cry you couldn’t help but bury your head in your hands and curse.

“Crap.”

  After realizing you were in love – you cringe internally, still getting used to having it out in the open – you were almost thankful for Lilia making your training regimen even harder. You and Yuri still ate together at Lilia’s ridiculously posh dining table with her million spoons and forks. You still had joint practice sometimes. But, most times you didn’t even have the energy to walk to Yuri’s room and collapse on his bed. And Yuri never came to your room, probably since he’s awkward and it would be weird for him to hang out in a girl’s room.

Yuri was contemplating seeing you, but you not coming to his room made the voice in his head whisper “she doesn’t want to see you”.

It was a waiting game, who would start the conversation first? Who would break through the other’s personal space first?

It wasn’t a question before. It had always been you and Yuri followed where you led.

By the time you’d come to terms with your feelings and convinced yourself that nothing needed to change, Yuri decided to leave and take on the Golden Spin competition.

So here you are, sitting in the kitchen with Czar next to you on the table, staring blankly at your laptop.

Yuri Plisetsky is Online.

All you had to do was call.

It was literally just a tap away.

“I’m being ridiculous, aren’t I?” You groaned, your aching arms refused to move from where you were rubbing Czar’s belly. “It’s just Yuri.” You breathed out, almost yelling as you did but remembering that it was past ten and Lilia would actually kill you if she knew you were sleeping late. “Let’s do this before I pass out. God, I’m tired-”

Czar got up and turned to your laptop with a suspiciously playful look on his face before promptly sitting on your laptop.

“Czar, no!” You reached out to grab the cat but dodged the paw that lashed out to scratch you. “Czar! Oh my God-”

“[Name]?” Yuri blinked up at you through the screen. “Is Czar on your laptop?” He asked, spotting the cat’s fluffy tail blocking the inside camera. “Little shit.”

“Just like someone else I know.” You grinned, leaning forward and finally getting the cat off of your keyboard. “He’s missed you. He’s been grumpier than usual.” You say, pulling Czar’s paw up in a mock wave which didn’t seem to please him at all. You pet his head as an apology.

Yuri stared into his own camera and smirked. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you’re starting to like my cat more than me.” He said.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was trying to get a read on whether or not you were attracted him.

“You’re still my number one cat, Yura.” You wink, laughing. A loud ding comes from the timer next to you and you wince, praying to God that it didn’t wake Lilia up. “That’s… I should get that.” You pull a plate of pirozhki out of the microwave and hold it up to the camera. “Tada! I was hungry.”

Yuri blinked, struggling to find the words. “You made pirozhki?” He asked.

“Your grandfather gave me the recipe and I thought I’d practice before you got back.” You chewed thoughtfully on the Katsudon one. “I made these earlier so I just heated it a bit.”

“Will there be more when I get back?” He asked, looking a bit excited at the prospect.

You smiled at how cute his love for pirozhki was. You didn’t really love any of your native cuisine as much as he loved pirozhki and it always made you happy to watch him eat so enthusiastically. “Maybe if you win the Golden Spin.” You said, pointing at the camera with your Katsudon Pirozhki.

“Then, I’ll definitely win.”

 SKATE 10

“So, you haven’t spoken to her since her second place in Rostelecom?” Yuuri rubbed at his eyes, wondering why on Earth he had Yuri in his and Victor’s shared hotel room asking him for relationship advice while Victor was up at the pool probably getting into all kinds of mischief with – what you call – his sin twin, Chris.

“We still talk. We still have movie nights, sleepovers. I talked to her over Skype when I won the Golden Spin.” Yuri says, throwing himself into the pillows. Ever since Yuuri helped him realize he’d held some affection for you he’d decided that Yuuri had to take responsibility and help him deal with these feelings. “But she doesn’t accidentally fall asleep in my bed anymore, or nap next to Czar when I’m around, or share her sweets, she doesn’t even call in the middle of the night just to ask what the first line for random Panic! at the Disco songs anymore.” He shook a pillow into the air in frustration making feathers come out and fall dramatically around them.

“Is that not…” Yuuri yawned. “A good thing?”

Yuri rolled his eyes at him. “Of course not!” He yelled, startling Yuri awake. Seriously, how did he ever seduce Victor Nikiforov at that gala?

…That’s not really a good example of seduction. Moving on.

“She’s acting differently and you miss her.” Yuuri said monotonously. “Just tell her how you feel.”

“Was it easy for you?” Yuri asked.

Yuuri sighed. “Of course not.”

Yuri rolled over, sitting up so he and Yuuri could look each other in the eye. “We were on different flights, too. And when I checked in the damn Yuri’s Angels and JJ blocked me.”

“You two need to talk. Maybe after the GPF.” Yuuri said. “You said she’s been working nonstop to perfect her free skate, right?” He asked.

Yuri smiled proudly. When he’d seen you skate No Life: Zero at Rostelecom he was blown away. Your program had an undercurrent of longing that came with having kindness given to you then snatched away at the very last moments. He’d seen No Game No Life: Zero and it was an intense film. The end of your program clearly depicted Shuvi’s death and her longing for that kindness Riku had shown her. It brought a lot of spectators to tears.

“Her program is a show-stopper.” He nodded.

Yuuri tilted his head to the side, more out of fatigue than anything. “She’s probably exhausted from all the work she put into that program.”

“Yeah.” Yuri nodded. “I should see if there’s anything I can do to help out or something.”

Yuuri smiled. “You should.”

Luckily, he’d managed to leave just as Victor and Chris returned and jumped onto Yuuri.

 You finished practice for the day and hurriedly put on your casual clothes, running to where the boys were having their own practice. You’d been distancing yourself from Yuri recently to focus on the GPF and to let him focus on his own skating. But it was the day before the competition and you wanted to go shopping – more like let him shop while you supervise – and fall asleep while eating sweets with him.

It looked like you weren’t the only one with that idea though, you thought as you ran into Victor and Yuuri on their way out to go sightseeing.

“Yurio is still practicing but I heard it would be his last run of his program!” Yuuri said, a sparkle of happiness in his eyes as he spoke. Victor for the most part seemed equally as confused about his enthusiasm in talking about Yuri but it was interrupted by the boy in question stepping out wearing his own casual clothes.

Yuri blinked, smiling when he spotted you. “[Name].” He said, coming to a stop in front of you. He realized belatedly that he didn’t have anything to say. He couldn’t very well say I miss you. And he can’t say it’s been too long since you saw each other just the other day. “We haven’t hung out as much.” He settled and was rewarded with a returned smile.

“Way too long!” You said, giving him a quick hug and grinning up at him. “Shopping?” You asked.

Yuri’s eyes lit up at the prospect of animal prints and he nodded. “I know just the place.”

 An hour later, after being spotted by Yuri’s Angels, you and Yuri ducked into an alley regretting every decision you both made that lead to this. The truth was, the moment you and Yuri started walking to the said place the Yuri’s Angels were on your tail leading to you and him weaving through streets, jumping dramatically over signs and fences, and at one point pretending to be part of a street show just to escape them.

Which led you both to the current situation, crouched in an alley panting. “This is not how I imagined I’d spend this afternoon with you.”

“Well, it’s not like I like being chased by that pack of hyenas either.” Yuri snarked.

You both look at each other and laugh quietly.

“I HEAR YURATCHKA’S LAUGHTER!”

“[NAME]’S LAUGHTER TOO!”

You both face-palm, recognizing the deeper voices of your fans joining the Yuri’s Angels in their search. “Who should we sacrifice so that the other can get away?” You joke.

“Yuri.” A motorcycle appeared next to us and riding on it was the legendary skater from Kazakstan, Otabek Altin. “Get on.”

You looked at the motorcycle and laughed sheepishly. “I guess we’re sacrificing me.”

“But [Name]-” Yuri protested.

“There’s only room for one of us on that, Yura. And he invited you.” You bit your lip. “And besides, I’m not great with motorcycles.” You admitted.

“You can hold onto Yuri.” Otabek suggested, making note of the way Yuri let you call him Yura and coming to the conclusion that this other person was important to the blonde in question.

Yuri contemplated this and nodded, pulling you with him towards the motorcycle.

“No! Really! I-” Yuri jammed the helmet onto your head and got on, patting the seat behind him.

You wrapped your arms around him, hoping he couldn’t feel how fast your heart was beating. The motorcycle accelerated away from the mob of fans and you tightened your hold around Yuri’s waist.

It was a precarious ride but eventually you got away from the fans and once you’d gotten a good look at Otabek your eyes widened. “No way! It’s you!” You grinned, pointing at him. “You were at Yakov’s summer training. Five years ago.”

Otabek blinked at you in surprise and the edge of his mouth tilted up in recognition. “That little girl who couldn’t do a split without crying.” He said.

“Yeah, lets not talk about that.” You blushed. “You and Yuri were in the same class, right?”

Yuri looked at the other boy incredulously. “I don’t remember that.” He said.

Otabek didn’t look offended at the blatant admission, only resigned. “I was in my first year of Juniors. I couldn’t keep up with the Russian skaters.” He explained.

“So that’s why you were in novice class.” You said, reaching out a hand to pat him on the back. Otabek seemed startled by the random show of affection, unused to kindness from strangers. “That’s where you met Yuri, right?” You nodded, encouraging him to continue.

“You had the eyes of a soldier.” He said quietly, staring at the shell-shocked blonde.

Yuri gestured to himself. “Me? A soldier?”

You stared at Otabek as he continued to tell his story, of the places he’d moved to, of how he was Kazakstan’s hero and wanted to make them proud. It was moving, but you could tell that Yuri was getting impatient as time passed. “Why?” You asked.

“Hm?” Otabek tilted his head, as if just now remembering you were there too.

“She means why did you bring me here, then?” Yuri asked, knowing exactly what you were thinking same as you knew what he was thinking. “That was your plan all along, right? You didn’t plan for [Name] to be here.”

Otabek seemed frightened to answer that and Yuri was too offended on your behalf so you placed a calming hand on Yuri’s arm while smiling at Otabek. “It’s fine, it’s hardly your fault I gate crashed on your private conversation.” You reassured him.

“I’ve always thought that we were alike, that’s all.” Otabek explained. “So, will you be friends with me or not?” He asked bluntly.

And you burst out laughing. “You two are definitely alike, that sounds like the kind of awkward thing you’d say, Yura.” You teased.

“Hey!” Yuri yelled half-heartedly, just happy that you were teasing him again.

He stepped forward, placing himself between you and Otabek. “If you and I are really alike, you’ll need to make friends with her first.” He insisted.

“Yuri?” You blinked.

“I could have never considered that I could be close to anyone, or open to anyone, without her.” He bit the inside of his cheek, feeling his cheeks flare up with red. “So, maybe she’ll help you make friends like a decent human being too.”

You expected Otabek to be offended again but he seemed… amused by the entire thing.

“Nice to meet you, Otabek!” You said, extending your hand to him. Otabek took your hand, looking like he was trying to mimic you.

“Nice… to meet you, [Name].”

 “How did we get dragged into this?” Yuri complained from his seat to your right. Otabek stared uncomfortably down at his lap, itching for something to do with his hands. You felt a bit bad for him so you lent him your phone. He’d been playing Tetris for the past ten minutes while Yuuri’s two female friends – Mari, his sister, and Minako, his ballet instructor – fangirled over the skaters.

“It’s like when I first met you, Yura.” You laughed.

“Tch,” Yuri rolled his eyes. “You didn’t drool as much.”

You blinked at him. “You remember how we met?” You asked.

“I remember a new girl coming to be coached by Yakov.” He crossed his arms, feeling everyone’s gazes turning to him. “We didn’t talk much until recently, though. Right?”

“Ah! Like me and Victor! I couldn’t even talk to him during the banquet.” Yuuri said.

Victor spit his drink out and all of you – sans Mari and Minako – looked at him incredulously.

“You don’t remember?” You covered your mouth with your hands. “We had a sing-off.” You said, laughing just thinking back on Yuuri’s rendition of Toxic. “You got on a table and started belting out Britney.”

And as everyone started sharing their own stories of Yuuri during the banquet you could already tell it was going to be a long night.

To your left, Otabek had abandoned your phone in favor of looking through the pictures of the banquet in Victor’s phone. It was then that you blinked, catching the shape of a ring on Victor’s finger.

As well as the matching one on Yuuri’s finger.

You gasped.

“Congrats on your marriage!”

Thank God for Phichit Chulanont.

 “Man, JJ really ruined it, huh?” Yuri said as he jabbed the button for your floor.

You looked at him knowingly, smirking. “So, you admit that it was fun until JJ showed up?” You asked, giggling when Yuri only responded with a grunt. It was as good as a blatant call of defeat in Yuri speak. Tapping the card key on the scanner, your hotel room door swung open and you turned around to say goodnight to Yuri only to find him leaning over you. “Yura?”

“I missed you, [Name].” He admitted. “I missed you more than I thought I would. It’s been really weird without you these past few weeks.” He shrugged.

Grinning, you reach up to cup Yuri’s cheek in your hand. “I missed you too, Yura.” And, in a feat of courage, you leaned up and pressed a kiss to his cheek only just missing your own thumb. “Tonight was fun, Yura. I’ll cheer for you tomorrow!” You said, waving and shutting the door.

Leaning against the door, you fell to the floor in a fit of rage. You groaned, running your hands through your hair.

“Oh God.” You winced. “Why would I do that?”

You thought it would make your heart shut up, but instead of shutting up it wanted more.

“I’m a masochist.” You say as you flop onto your bed and let sleep take you away.

 Yuri almost couldn’t sleep that night, too hyper alert after the kiss you dropped on his cheek.

It was just a cheek kiss. It would be really weird if Yuri couldn’t sleep just because of a tiny harmless cheek kiss. So, he slept. Fitfully, but still. He slept. And if he woke up unreasonably early, no one would know.

He decided to take a walk to clear his head, but seeing Victor Nikiforov staring thoughtfully at his ring pissed him off.

Before he knew it, he was swinging his leg and trying to kick Victor off the bridge. “Victor Nikiforov is dead.” He spat. “Why do you look so happy looking after that pig?” He kicked and he kicked and he kicked until Victor turned around and wrapped his arms around the younger and more confused skater. “I’m dead. But why am I so happy anyway? Why?” He muttered, slumping against Victor.

“Because you’re in love.” Victor said, patting him on the head. “It really, really sucks doesn’t it?” He asked, laughing.

“Yeah.” Yuri hummed. “It sucks.”

 SKATE 11

When you left early that morning, you didn’t expect to run into Yuri right of the bat. “Yuri!” You waved, jogging over to him. “Are you on your way to the rink?” You asked, he didn’t seem to have much on him besides his jacket and typical clothes.

“I ran into Victor.” He shrugged, shoving his hands into his pockets. “You’re opening this morning, right?”

You nodded, wringing your hands nervously. “I doubt I’ll beat Sara and Mila but I’ll do my best anyway.” You grinned, holding up a fist so you could fist bump.

“You better win.” Yuri rolled his eyes and bumped his fist against yours. “It won’t do for a gold medalist to have loser friends.”

“Shut up.” You laugh, bumping his shoulder with yours.

“Mila and Sara are better than last year. They should be within the Top Three, at least.” Yuri admitted after taking a moment to assess their strengths.

You look at him, doubting yourself for a moment before speaking. “Where do you think I’ll place?” You raised a hand to stop him from saying the first thing that comes to mind. “Be honest.”

“You know what I think. You’re good. If you weren’t you wouldn’t have been trained with me, idiot.” He clicked his tongue, sounding hassled by your line of questioning.

You looked down at the ground, still doubting yourself. “Yeah.”

After a moment of silence, Yuri spoke up.

“Your program has more depth than theirs. Your technical will be pretty high, too. Higher than Sara’s since she still struggles to land her Triple Lutz and Triple Loop combination.” He looked you in the eye before turning away to hide his face behind his hair and his hood. “I won’t be there to watch.” He says but the way he looks down at his feet disappointedly reassures you that if he could then he would.

You smile gratefully at him. “It’s fine. I’ll have to make it so that people will be talking about my short program right before you skate.” You nudge him with your elbow and he nudges back. “I’ll definitely make it to yours, though.”

Yuri opened his mouth as if to thank you but decided otherwise. “I’ll definitely put on a show, then.”

Fumbling with the list of jumps you had in your pocket, you wondered if you should tell Yuri what you’d been practicing for all this time. If you should tell him the reason why you spent less time with him and more with Lilia and Yakov in training.

On your list of jumps where a Triple Lutz and Double Toe Loop used to be, was a new and more terrifying jump.

  “Are you sure you want to do this?” Lilia had asked you over and over again. And you were confident. You’d landed the jump fine in practice. You even did it once in free practice the day before when most of the other skaters were busy or occupied with their own programs. That was why you’d been late enough to catch Yuri on his way out of men’s free practice.

You were sure you could do this jump.

But you failed.

You’d fallen on your descent and only just managed to perfect the rest of your short program. By then, it was too late to enhance your performance. Your confidence was shot from your opening jump. And it was beginning to spread like wildfire.

The moment the board flashed your score, you thought of Yuri.

What would he think of a score of 62.71?

Without looking back, you rushed away to change with Lilia close on your heels.

“[Name].” You heard Lilia shouting from behind you, intimidatingly high heels clicking loudly against the floor. It made you think of the first time you’d met Lilia when she decided to train you. You’d promised her that you’d exceed her expectations and you broke your promise by messing up your jump, the jump you’d spent months working on.

The jump that would prove that you were worthy of having people like Yakov and Lilia by your side. The jump that would prove you were worthy to know Yuri Plisetsky.

“I’m sorry.” You said, biting your lip as you took off your skates holding back the tears that threatened to leak out from your eyes. “I’m so sorry. I let you down. I let everyone down.” You heaved, finally mustering the courage to look up into Lilia’s startled face. “I’m not worthy of him. I’m not-”

Lilia stepped forward and you expected a slap, a scolding, anything to numb you from the disappointment. But instead, she wrapped her arms around you and squeezed.

“You have already exceeded my expectations.” She said, pulling away to look you in the eye. “What you haven’t exceeded are your own expectations.”

Your eyes widened. “I haven’t?”

“You let yourself down.” Lilia said, pushing your damp hair back with a brief but soft smile. “The only way to exceed your expectations is to get back up.”

You smiled back at her, thinking back to all the hours of work you and Lilia put in to perfect your jump. The work it took you to get your piece. You still had the free skate tomorrow and out of both of your programs, the free skate was your baby. It was your brain child. And while you loved the short program Lilia had put up for you, it was your free skate that truly showed who you were. You’d make it up tomorrow. No, you’d do more than make it up.

You were going to win the entire thing.

“You’re right.” You wiped your tears away. “I can still win from third.”

Lilia straightened her coat and peered down at you. “Hurry up, then. We have a short program that we do not want to miss.”

  You managed to change and make it to the Men’s short program just in time to watch Phichit’s program. You didn’t give yourself much time to watch it though as you bounded down to where Yakov and Yuri were standing. In the stands, you caught sight of Mila and Sara waving at you.

You bit your lip, wondering if maybe Mila told Yuri about your botched jump. But, by the way Yuri had ignored you in favor of focusing himself for his Short Program, it was clear he hadn’t heard about your failure at Women’s Singles.

Lilia strode up to Yuri and did something to his hair, muttering reassurances in Russian. Yuri’s green eyes flitted to you and you stared back at him. He motioned you closer, rolling his eyes at your hesitance. “What did you get?” He asked.

You leaned over the edge of the rink and tried to smile as convincingly as you could. “62.71” As predicted, Yuri winced. It wasn’t a bad score but you needed more to beat Mila and Sara. “I’ll make it up in my Free Program.” You promised.

“You’d better, I’ll actually be watching that one.” He insisted.

“No pressure or anything.” You laugh.

Yuri choked out his own laugh but immediately pulled himself together. “I’m up next.”

“I know.” You pat the hand he had resting on the edge of the rink. “Good luck.”

“Tch.” He clicked his tongue and smirked, backing away from you slowly as the announcers called his name.

“I don’t need it.”

You stared at him, grinning cockily as he took his position, and snorted. “God, I love him.”

 From the very beginning of his short program, you were breathless. His movements were smoother than you’d ever seen. His transitions were flawless. Every jump built up your excitement to even greater heights. Every single person watching was on the edge of their seats and you knew that in that moment you were all witnessing history being made.

The sight of his Triple Axel made your heart clench in your chest but the raised hand he had as he jumped had shocked you. This was what he was working on while you perfected your jump. A raised hand in most of his jumps would mean a big difference for him and you felt yourself grinning wider with each jump successfully made with his arm raised.

People shine brightest when they try to understand what kind of love sustains them. You remember Lilia saying that in one of her interviews about Yuri. For Agape, Yuri told you that he’d thought of his grandfather. But, when Lilia stared at you while saying that you wondered if she’d meant something else, if there was someone else Yuri was skating Agape for.

You shook your head and returned your attention to Yuri’s short program that was closing up far too soon.

You’d definitely download this one off of Youtube later, you thought as he ended his step sequence with an incredibly long flying sit spin, the very one that won him the Golden Spin award.

The crowd roared around him, tossing all manner of flowers and plushies to him but he stood there looking completely overwhelmed as he slowly bowed and skated towards the kiss and cry.

Unlike every other time, you walked slowly to the kiss and cry letting Yakov and Lilia take their seats on each of his sides as they waited for the score. You didn’t need to look up to know it would be an amazingly high score but you gave the board one last look anyway as you pushed the curtain aside to leave.

118.56

He’d broken Victor’s world record in his Senior debut.

You grinned and shook your head, seeing Yakov scoop Yuri up into a hug as Lilia clapped wearing the widest smile you’d ever seen on her face. Yuri was officially a world record holder.

“And on just his short program.” You hummed, pushing past the double doors starting the long walk to your hotel. “He’ll be so smug.”

The coast was shining to your left, beckoning you to come look and stroll by. You didn’t fight the urge. It was nice to take a more scenic route to forget about today’s failings.

“Yuri will be celebrating and then he’ll be busy getting ready for his free skate tomorrow anyway.” You say to no one in particular, hands grazing the rails of the coast separating you from the ocean.

 Now, Otabek was new to whole having friends thing but he was pretty sure that leaving your best friend after watching him break a world record was not a great friend move.

Besides that, he knew how attached you and Yuri were. That is, attached at the hip. So, seeing you leave all of a sudden and so quickly after Yuri pulled off such an amazing performance was weird behavior. If he’d been close to one of the female skaters, he would have asked if something happened during her short program but he was up after Chris. Yuri knew Mila though, so he did the next best thing.

“[Name] left quickly.” He said as the Russian Ice Tiger hurriedly passed him backstage.

Yuri sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I noticed. I’m looking for her, actually. I thought she might have left to practice or something since she got a lower score than she wanted during her short program.”

Ah, Otabek thought. That made sense.

“Maybe you should ask Mila?” He suggested.

“That hag?” Yuri made a face. “I’ll ask Sara, though. Might as well since I was going to sit behind them anyway.” He grumbled, stopping Otabek before he could scurry off. “Thanks.”

Otabek didn’t know what to do with himself. It was pretty well known that Yuri rarely gave thanks to anyone. Otabek flashed him the closest thing he had to a smile and nodded. “You’re welcome.”

Yuri seemed happy with this response and started walking to the stands.

Otabek breathed in deeply, glad he hadn’t messed up or somehow alienated himself from his new friend.

Still, if you’d gotten a low score on your short program he understood why you wouldn’t want to be around Yuri for now. The Russian was intimidating at the best of times and with the pressure that came with being associated with such a talented skater…

Otabek could barely catch up with him as it is and he had a hard time talking to Yuri.

You talked to Yuri every day and you were clearly important to him.

The pressure on you to show that you’re worth that must be even greater.

A mistake in your short program could mean failure to prove yourself.

Maybe I should text her, he thought staring at the digits you’d inputted into his phone the night before. Are we even close enough to text?

Otabek shook his head. Reassurance is regular friend behavior, he punched in a quick you’ll do better tomorrow and sent it.

And before he could regret his word choice, it was his turn to take the ice.

 “Hey, Crispino.” Yuri said, nudging his foot over to get Sara’s attention. “Sara.”

Sara looked back at him, confused. He’d never really interacted with her before, he always preferred talking to you. “Me?” She pointed at herself and blinked. “What do you want to talk to me about?” She asked.

“Yeah, what do you want with Sara, Plisetsky?” He heard Michele shout from a seat below them and rolled his eyes.

Really, he should have known.

“I don’t have time for this. Mila!” Yuri groaned as Mila’s head shot up, eyes leering obnoxiously at him.

Mila got up and draped herself over Yuri, poking at him in that way that annoyed him to the point of insanity. “Yes? You needed me?” She snickered.

“Shut up. What happened to [Name] during her short program?” He asked, careful not to ask too many questions or come off as overly curious.

Mila raised an eyebrow at him and many heads turned to look at him. “Oh? Are you perhaps worried about your girlfriend?” She grinned.

“What am I supposed to think when she runs out on me after I break a world record?” Yuri crossed his arms and put on his most aggravated expression.

Victor covered his heart mouth with his hands. “Oh! You sound like a scorned husband on his wedding day!” He smiled widely, making every other skater present burst out laughing.

“We’re not like that. We’re friends. And so what? Friends are allowed to be worried about their friends right?” Yuri groaned, frustrated at being caught. “There, I said it. I’m worried. Are you all happy? Are you all excited that when I turned around to celebrate this amazing moment in my skating career with my best friend I turned to find her gone? Are you all so glad that I had completely ignored the fact that my closest friend was still disappointed in her own results over my victory? Laugh. Fucking laugh to my face and don’t tell me what the fuck happened to her short program.”

All their heads fell at the raw emotion expressed in the normally apathetic teen’s voice. Only Yuuri looked up at him, reaching out to pat him on the arm sympathetically.

“She-” Sara spoke up nervously, clearing her throat. “She tried to do a Triple Axel.”

Yuri’s and everyone’s eyes widened at her words. “She tried to?” Yuri asked.

“She fell down on her descent. But the rest of her program was flawless.” Mila explained. “She just… lost confidence after she fell.”

Victor and Yuuri shared a look of concern, their eyes moving to check on Yuri whose hands had curled up into fists. “Yurio-”

“That idiot.” Yuri muttered, cursing. “She could have seriously hurt herself, damn it.”

Yuuri squeezed his arm, pulling at Yuri so that he was sitting down properly and paying attention. “You should talk to her.”

“I can’t right now.” Yuri shook his head. “I have press and shit and my free skate tomorrow-”

Yuuri’s grip on his arm tightened to an almost painful level as he stared at Yuri. “Yurio, what’s more important to you right now? Your image or your best friend?”

There was no need to ask.

He’d pick you every time.

 SKATE 12

Yuuri had made finding you sound so simple.

In Yuri’s mind, it would go like this. He’d run to the hotel, still in his costume and Team Russia jacket looking like he’d run the world’s longest marathon. He’d take the elevator up to your room and knock loudly on your door until you let him in. And then, you’d spill all about your attempted Triple Axel and whatever it was that possessed you to try doing it. Then, you’d both watch a movie on your laptop and eat an unholy amount of sweets. Well, a fair amount. You both still had your free skates the next day and you’d need to be as light as possible for your jumps. And maybe, he’d confess that somewhere along the way – between Skype calls and pirozhkis and Panic! at the Disco – he’d somehow fallen in love with you.

Of course, to spite him, the world decides to make everything about finding you as complicated as possible.

When Yuri finally pushes past the paparazzi to leave the rink, it starts raining. And not the drizzle kind, the floods pouring down from heaven kind. He’d had no choice but to go back and change into more traversable clothes and beg Yakov for an umbrella. Yakov didn’t want to hear about it, not wanting his star skater to catch something before tomorrow he’d called Yuri a cab instead. So Yuri waited half an hour for his cab to go to his hotel – which was only a couple of blocks away from the rink in the first place so fuck you too Yakov – only to get stuck in the elevator.

It took another half hour to get out of there and he couldn’t even leave you more texts – to add to the mountain of texts he’d already sent beforehand while he was waiting for the taxi, RIP his cellphone bill – while he waited for the damn elevator people to fix the thing. Once he’d gotten out of the metal death trap, it was already late enough that Lilia and Yakov were ushering him back to his room to sleep.

“Are you both working against me or something?” He muttered because he couldn’t yell at them like he did at Victor and friends.

Lilia seemed to catch his scathing remark and turned looking vaguely sympathetic. “She will be watching you tomorrow.” She said blandly.

“I doubt it after how great a friend I’ve been.” Yuri answered, his pessimism taking over while he internally screamed at how unfair the world was being to him. It was like they’d let him have a friend, someone to love and to be loved by, by mistake and were taking it back.

Lilia tipped his chin up and nodded. “She will, because she promised.”

Yuri’s eyes widened, your voice reverberating past his memories invading his thoughts.

“And she always keeps her promises.”

  You watched from the back of the stands as Victor and Yuuri hug, your hand clutching at your chest as Yuuri takes the ice. You’d just finished hair and make up and you were already wearing your costume for your free skate with your red Team Russia jacket over it.

By all means, you should be down there supporting Yuri but isn’t that what you’ve been doing this entire season?

It was the last leg of the Grand Prix Final. This was important to Yuri. And you promised you’d be here.

“You didn’t say where here.” You tried to reason with yourself but the burning ache to go to Yuri said otherwise. There’s no way you can stay away from him. Regardless of your feelings, he’s still your best friend. “After Yuuri’s skate.” You bargained with yourself, settling into the seat you’d nested in.

“[Name]” A pair of girls from the other end of the row called out to you. “What are you doing here?” They asked, waving their flags.

You blinked and then smiled as you made your way closer to them. “Minako. Mari. It’s great to see you.” You said, taking a seat next to them.

“Well, it’s strange to see you away from Yurio.” Minako winked. “It’s like seeing Yuuri without Victor these days.” She teased.

You groan. “We get that a lot.”

“Because you’re inseparable.” Minako laughed, stopping when she realized you weren’t laughing along with her. “Hey.”

“Hm?” You tilt your head at her.

Minako breathed in deeply and smiled that smile she used when Yuuri was uncertain about something. “Did something happen to you and Yurio?” She asked.

You smile, thankful for her concern, and shake your head. “Just to me.”

Thankfully, before Minako can ask for an explanation of your vague response, Yuuri finally skated to center ice to start his program.

You were absolutely blown back by the unbridled love in his skating. Yuuri himself had gone through a tough patch last year. It worried you even if you weren’t close enough to just go up to him and confront him about it. But seeing him this year with Victor, he’d really bloomed into the skater and the person he had the potential to be. This program was forged by every bond of love he’d formed.

You saw him in his step sequence. Victor in his facial expressions. Phichit in his speed. Minako and Mari in his love for skating. You saw many facets of him, facets that were brought out of him by the people he loved.

And in the midst of that, you saw Yuri in his Salchow.

You smiled widely as he ended his free program, one hand poised over his heart and the other pointing to Victor. And the aching feeling in your chest pulling you to Yuri grew heavier.

“I have to go.” You said quietly, Mari and Minako looking at you quizzically. “I have to go see Yuri.” You said again, louder this time, before getting up and waving at them.

You sprint backstage to Minako’s distant calls of “attagirl!”.

 You turn left so sharply your running shoes squeaked loudly against the floor as you slid into the skater’s lounge. “Yura?” You panted, your eyes catching the familiar pattern of Yuri’s Team Russia jacket from across the room.

Yuri had his hair up in the style Lilia usually put up for him for his Allegro Appassionato in B Minor program but he had earphones in so he couldn’t hear you at all. Yakov and Lilia tailed him like two iron knights ushering their King to his rightful throne.

And all of those cheesy thoughts blew right out the window as Victor Nikiforov rounded the corner right behind you and passed you calling out to Yakov.

“Yakov! I want to talk to you about something!” He yelled, almost knocking you over in his haste. You backed up to let him pass, pressing yourself against the wall. You heard Yakov grouse that it was almost Yuri’s turn but your eyes didn’t stray from the Russian in question.

Not even when Victor announced that he would be making a comeback to skating.

Yuri turned, Yakov’s shouting finally alerting him to Victor’s presence.

“Does that mean Katsudon’s retiring?” He pulled out his earphones, grabbing Victor by the arm, emotions you’d never seen before flashing across his face. Anger, concern, disappointment, worry. The Yuri at the beginning of the season wouldn’t have let himself feel any of that. It made you want to sink into the wall and not be recognized, to be allowed to observe Yuri’s feelings, feelings he’d never let anyone see.

Your smile grew wider as Victor leaned down to envelop Yuri in a hug.

 Yuri was almost catatonic from shock. He hadn’t expected in a million years that when Victor leaned down that he’d hug him. Or else he’d have run away.

Would he?

The answer would have been a resounding yes a couple of months ago. He’d run away from Yuuri’s hug after the Rostelecom Cup. But, the morning before, he remembered having that embarrassing break down. Victor had hugged him then too.

“Don’t forget what it is you want.” Victor whispered in his ear.

Time started moving again and across the room, from over Victor’s suited shoulders, he saw you leaning against the wall. Your gaze met his and you waved sheepishly but Yuri had never been happier to see you in his entire life.

Yuri felt Victor let go of him and he stumbled forward gracelessly, still staring at you as you walked towards him. “I-” Yakov cleared his throat from behind him, reminding him of the situation they were in. “I’m up next.”

“I know.” You hold up your fist and grinned. “Time to get that Gold Medal, Yura.” You winked.

His laughter made many skaters heads turn but he didn’t care. You were happy and he was happy and you were both going to win Gold on your Senior debuts. You both had the right to laugh.

Yuri lifted up his fist to gently knock it against yours. “Only if you win one too.”

Your jaw became slack and you let out a soft oh of surprise. He knew. Of course, he knew. Someone must have told him. But his face didn’t betray any disdain or disappointment in you. He believed in you. You realize then that he always has, even when you didn’t believe in yourself.

“Of course, I will. After all…” You smirked. “I hate to lose.”

Yuri returned your smirk with a knowing smirk of his own as you both walked back to the ice.

 Yuri skated out of the barrier, Lilia pulling off his jacket. He breathed in and out only to realize that he didn’t need to center himself. He was eerily calm. But, then again, it might be a side-effect of his relief at seeing you again by his side where you belonged.

Katsuki Yuuri remains in first place.

You frown up at Otabek’s score, proud that your new friend made second but knowing that he deserved a better score from how much speed and height he got in his jumps. But, then again, you could just be biased. “He’s only gotten better these past five years.” You mutter.

“He has.” Yuri agreed, both of you waving as Otabek passed you on his way to his team’s bench clutching an adorable teddy bear with thick eyebrows. “But, I’m better too.”

You rolled your eyes at him. “Show off.”

“I’ll make sure that Katsudon keeps skating.” He says but it sounds more like a promise than a statement so you take it as one. “I’ll show you a skate you’ll never forget so get your act together too, [Name].” He hesitantly reached out and patted your hand the way you did for him in Rostelecom when he was worried for his grandfather. It was time to pay your kindness and support forward.

He took one last look at your smiling face and skated to center ice.

“Everyone…” He extended his hands to his sides and closed his eyes. “Watch this closely.”

The first thing you notice about his Allegro Appassionato is that it’s a lot tamer than the wild mess he’d been in Rostelecom. He’d been psyched up then. He’d jumped with a lot more height at the beginning and tired out faster near the end where all his harder jumps were. It was a flawless performance but reckless of him. This time, he had much more control, saving his strength for the higher scoring jumps.

He raised his arm this time for his Triple Axel coming from a beautifully balanced spiral and again for his Triple Lutz. The raised warm was going to be his signature if he kept this up. But, raising his arms was getting tiring so he went into his Triple Flip without raising his arm.

Yuri hit disaster on the second half, falling when he attempted a raised arm with his Quadruple Toe Loop. “Yura!” You shouted without meaning to, mind flashing back to your own fall yesterday.

But, Yuri was strong. He got back up and slid into an elegant spiral position with his foot raised over his head. ‘You’re just as strong, [Name].’ He thought as he set up the speed for his combination jump. ‘If I can come back from a fall like that then you can come back and win a Gold too.’

His Quadruple Salchow and Triple Toe Loop was brilliantly executed, much smoother than last time. He’d raised both his arms.

“Still confident.” You grinned. “That’s our Yura.”

Yuri’s Triple Toe Loop turned into a Double Toe loop during his combination and you couldn’t help your squeal of excitement.

“Another quad this late.” Yakov chuckled. “He’s definitely as stubborn as you, Vitya.” He murmured, Lilia smiling behind her narrow fingers at his jest.

Yuri gave everything to his last combination. It started with a Triple Axel. He made sure to give it height just because he could. This jump was for you.

‘I know you can land this.’ He thought as he transitioned smoothly into a single Loop and finally a Triple Salchow. His signature jump.

With the last of his strength, he spun and spun until the music faded out and he was left back at center ice with his arms flung out to welcome the applause from his hysterical audience.

Yuri took it all in as tears started filling his eyes. Crumpling to the ground, he cried for every ache and every callous and every mark he’d earned that led to this moment. This moment with you and Lilia and Yakov smiling widely, accepting him into your arms and laughing as he whined about how much work it took he’d better get this goddamn Gold Medal because his wrist hurt like hell after that fall.

 “I’ll go ahead.” Lilia said, standing up from her usual spot at the kiss and cry. “You still have your free program after this and I assume you’re not doing press?” She gave you a knowing look and you shook your head. “I’ll make sure everything is ready when you get there.”

You smile gratefully up at Lilia and bow your head. “Thank you.”

“Sit down.” Yakov said, but his voice was softer. He looked content sitting to Yuri’s right, as if whatever Yuri’s score would be he was already proud.

You understood that. Yuri had done great and you couldn’t help the swell of pride in your chest as you sat down to his left. You let out a startled yip, feeling a cold costumed hand holding your own.

Yuri’s fingers twined effortlessly with yours, his eyes glued to the board that would proclaim his victory or crushing defeat. His shoulders were tense with both the pressure to win and the fear of rejection but they relaxed marginally when you squeezed back, letting your hands fold around his as you both waited for the score.

200.97

“You did it.” You grinned. “You did it, you won.”

Yuri’s eyes narrowed down to those numbers, only twelve hundredth of a point above Yuuri. He’d won his first Gold Medal in his Senior debut. “Holy shit.” He said quietly. “Holy shit, [Name]. I won.” He shouted, turning to face you.

You laughed, feeling your face redden as he placed both of his hands on your face, your own hands coming up to gingerly hold his wrists. “You got what you wanted.” You leaned into his touch and smiled.

Yuri stared at you, at your face literally within his reach and looking absolutely beautiful under the harsh lights of the ice rink. “Not everything.” He smirked as he leaned in to press his lips against yours.

You gasped into his mouth, chapped lips pressed firmly against your glossed ones. Both of you were shivering, half from cold and half from the adrenaline high of Yuri’s win. But you’d never felt more warm.

Yuri pulled away, his hands still holding you like you would run from him.

You smiled reassuringly, you’d never run from him again. “Now that was motivational.” You quip and Yuri is so startled by how normal it sounded that he laughed.

“Yuri.” Yakov smirked at the both of you, shooing the paparazzi away. “Time for the podium.”

You gently pried his hands off your face. “I have to go, too.”

Yuri nodded, turning to check if he had time to spare before he had to really leave to get his medal. “I’ll be there in a few.” He says, shyly leaning up to press a kiss to the crown of your head before returning to the ice to take his flowers and wave.

“I’m not letting you have all the glory.” You grin, turning to leave and have the stylists retouch your make up before you take the ice.

 The women’s competition started after the men finished theirs so there was time enough to get your hair pinned into place and touch up your make up where Yuri’s hands had smudged it. Each time your stylist eyed the blotchy spots where Yuri’s hands had been you couldn’t help but blush.

Your phone vibrated where it was perched on the table where all the make up was placed. You snatch it before it can fall off the edge and accept the call. “It’s me.” You answer. “I’m in make-up but I’m so bored I’ll take anyone’s call.”

“Hey, beautiful.” Came a stuttered reply and you grinned.

“That was cheesy as hell. I mean, don’t get me wrong. I love it.” You admit, leaning your head to the side much to the disdain of your hair stylist. “But, where’d you hide Yura?” You asked.

You could almost hear Yuri rolling his eyes. “Shut up.”

“You know I’m teasing.” You giggle, on the television you watched as the first skater took the ice. “I’ll be on after another two girls-”

“I’m on my way.” He insisted, you could hear the sound of shouting and cameras faintly. “Have to get the press away first.” He groaned in frustration.

“Don’t hurt yourself.” You snicker.

Yuri cleared his throat. “Hey.”

You raise a brow at that. And, sensing the levity in what he was about to say, you shoo the stylist away. He’d put in a hundred pins anyway. By now, your hair was as good as nailed to your head. “Yura? Is everything okay?” You ask.

“Everything’s great, that’s what I’m trying to say.” He breathed out a sigh. “What I wanted to tell you at Rostelecom. I’ve wanted to say it for a long time. I didn’t tell you what it was back then but I’m ready to now.” He explained. “Not now now though. Later, after your free program.”

“After my gold medal, you mean.” You grin, watching the first girl execute her last jump and then do a flying sit spin.

“Of course, do you think I’d pick a loser for a best friend?” He asked and you couldn’t help but laugh. “I’ll be here for you this time.”

You and Yuri pass the time by taking turns humming Panic! at the Disco songs for the other to guess. By the time you’d started to win, Lilia pushed the door open and nodded, signaling you to leave for your free program.

When you left the skaters’ lounge, you are greeted by fans and – surprisingly – a big group of Yuri’s Angels taking up half of a section of stands. Which only meant one thing.

“Hey, beautiful.” You say even before you turn to look at a blushing Yuri Plisetsky.

Yuri shoved his hands in his pockets, clearly flustered. “I’m not a girl.”

You mock gasp. “Yura, that’s sexist. You pig.” You smirk.

“Oh? I thought I was beautiful.” He said, air quoting around the word beautiful.

“You are.” You say, trailing your hand down his arm until your fingers intertwined. “I’ve always thought so. Even when I first came to train with Yakov.”

Yuri’s face burned even brighter. “You knew before I did, then.”

“Knew what?” You ask, clueless.

Yuri looked at you expectantly and laughed, leading you to the edge of the rink where Yakov and Lilia were holding the entrance door open for you. Yuri pulled your red Team Russia jacket off of you and tosses it to the side.

He must have hit his quota for cheesy romantic gestures, you think.

“Knock ‘em dead, [Name].” He said, giving your hand one last squeeze before letting you skate out to center ice.

You school your expression from one of joyful love to one of tragedy as you waited for the music to come in.

1, 2, 3, 4…

The audience is a blur, a nameless figure, a blank face. In this space, only you existed along with your fellow skaters and friends. You were skating to show them something, to show them all that it was possible. Everything was possible. On the ice, as long as you worked hard, results would follow.

You breathe out. You’d show them something they’d never seen before.

 5,6…

The music began softly, with subtle violin playing. And you smoothly skated in a circle, gaining momentum and setting yourself up for a Triple Lutz and Triple Toe Loop combination as you readied yourself.

Triple Lutz, Triple Toe Loop. Good speed.

Calm down. Save the height for later. Save your strength. It’s only the first half of your program.

The violin was leading you through the first half of your program. It was Shuvi’ fruitless search for emotion. For something to fill the gaping hole in her system. It was her failed effort at showing people in her race how important finding the missing piece was to herself and her kind was. Guided by the piano, you opened your eyes and find a pair of verdant green irises staring at you. The gentle and yet fiery eyes that tore through your mundane life and filled it with color.

Yuri Plisetsky, your idol, your practice partner, your best friend. Yuri was staring at you, communicating his belief in you without fear, without running away. Every instinct in your body told you to run. But you stayed, you moved to his heartbeat, your feet mapped out the curve of his rare smiles. You stayed and you were going to succeed.

The drum roll sounded out and the violins got faster as you raced across the ice to get momentum. Cutting through the air, you feel yourself gaining speed.

With your mind on Yuri’s Triple Axel, you gather your strength and you jump.

A perfect… TRRRRIPLE AXEL! [Name] [Last Name] has just made history. After failing to land this jump in her short program, she nails the landing-

‘That’s not all.’ You quipped in your head. The program has only just begun. The Violins were joined by trumpets now, heralding the moment that Shuvi would meet the man who would teach her how to love. Urged on by the coming of the strike of the drums, you jump again.

Good speed into that Double Lutz, we’re almost to the second half of [Name] [Last Name]’s program.

Not good, you were planning to turn that one into a triple. That’s fine though, Yuri fell during his free program but he still won. You still had the second half of your program and stamina was your greatest strength. You eased yourself out of a spiral and get ready to jump.

Double Flip, the last jump of the first half. The second half begins with a step sequence.

The soft sound of xylophone rings out. It’s the song of Shuvi and Riku’s wedding, a small personal affair, three people in a cramped little room with war as their background music. You school your expression to that of faint understanding, hope. The violins changed their tune and the step sequence drags you all across the ice, feet moving in an elegant crisscross.

A Triple Lutz to open her second half. Good height, and her transition was flawless.

This was Shuvi’s fight against certain death. It was desperate and heartbreaking. She didn’t want to die, she wanted to go back, to see Riku again, she never should have left him. If she had a choice, she would never leave him again.

Next is a Triple Lutz and Triple Toe.

You feel a tear fall down your face.

And it’s a Triple Lutz but instead of a Toe she’s gone for a Triple Loop!

What? Your mind processed the change so quickly you almost didn’t notice. Not good, you’re going numb. Bad things happened when you weren’t aware and on top of things. You’d gotten cocky and went and did the jump Sara failed to do most of the time. That was just you showing off.

‘Show off’ You hear Yuri say in your head and you turn your genuine smile into a sad one. It would do you no good to be seen smiling as Shuvi’s death comes.

The drums start up again and its time for your last jump. Time to give it all you had. This one wasn’t just for you. This one was for Yuri.

And her final jump.

The violins changed their tune again, hitting the end of the climax. You sped up faster than ever before, feeling your surroundings blur, you turn around so you were skating backwards and turn back throwing yourself into the air.

She turned her Double Salchow into a Triple Salchow! It was flawless! She landed all her jumps!

You hit the ground smoothly, almost breathless with your success as you crouch down into your flying sit spin. You keep your sad smile and turn it into a look of understanding. Shuvi’s final message to Riku leaving your lips.

“I… really… love you…”

You knelt down, one arm raised to the air as if reaching up to heaven and the other daintily resting on your chest like you were releasing your final breath. And suddenly, there was loud applause, screaming.

To your right, you saw some of the Yuri’s Angels tossing plush cats at you and you pick up a white one with black stripes that reminds you of the Ice Tiger of Russia, sending them a kiss in thanks.

“[Name]!” A rough voice shouted from behind you and you saw Lilia with Yakov’s arm wrapped around her as she clapped. But, more importantly, you saw Yuri holding the door open for you with a proud grin on his face.

You skated towards him slowly. “How did I-”

He scooped you up into his arms and spun you, his eyes alight with pride and elation. You leaned down to kiss him but he dodged opting to put you down and bury his face in your neck. “I love you.” He whispered into your ear.

You drop your Ice Tiger of Russia plush, breath hitching as you answer. “I love you, too.”

The scores have been computed.

You and Yuri break away from each other and look up at the board.

Her score is 135.39! Her final score is 198.10! A high score for a brilliant free program. This puts her in-

“First place.” Yuri whispered, nudging you with his shoulder. “Well, fuck. What are you going to do with your Gold Medal?” He asked.

You laugh and nudge him back. “Sara is up next.”

“Please, you landed a Triple Lutz and Triple Loop like it was nothing and she’s been trying to do that her entire Juniors career.” Yuri scoffed. “That Gold Medal is yours.”

“How about Mila?” You ask.

Yuri shrugged. “Mila’s old.”

You raised a hand to hit his arm but he caught it, slotting his fingers through yours and letting it hang between you.

“A Gold Medal couple.” You smirk. “The press will go wild.”

“Let them do whatever.” Yuri tightened his grip on you, pulling you closer to him. “As long as we can keep skating together, I don’t care if they approve or disapprove.” He said, looking away. You catch him blushing bright red at the sudden romantic declaration. “Besides, the Katsudon and Victor are doing some mushy Exhibition Program anyway and they’re getting married so they won’t be hassling us for too long.”

You laugh and really you can’t help it. Yuri always makes you smile. And that’s the sum of it, really.

“Yeah,” You say, gripping his hand like letting go was a thought of the past. “As long as we skate together.”

[abitscrewyvinn]

Shade is Not Silver.

If you don’t like blood/gore don’t click ‘read more’. What follows is Shade telling her story. It.. It’s kinda brutal and she’s a little drunk right now so it might not always be coherent.

Let me preface this, start from the beginning. When it all went to shit.

I was seven. My parents, specifically my mother, have this tradition sort of thing. A sick, sadistic one. Though they claim it’s for the progress of humanity, they only recently started releasing their tech to the public. Under a pseudonym as well. This tradition is to ‘build the perfect soldier’ as it were. Generally for them that means their children. The age of seven is apparently perfect or something, because damn do they like sevens.

Anyway, they took me into this room for my birthday and told me I was getting my present when they strapped me down to a table and sawed off my arm and leg. Back then they didn’t have the laser things either. Straight up hacksaw. Used their magic to keep me alive and stable, opened me up and replaced some other shit too but I’d passed out by then. For some reason the arm and leg were too important for me to miss, so I was forced awake for that bit. This was only part of it. At seven, once I’d woken up, they informed me of the other things to happen to me over the years.

By seventeen I was to become a loyal soldier to the Silvers and all their affiliates. They’d tweak my soul just right. The tech would grow with my body just like bones. Well, the skeletal structure would. The add-ons like the shoulder pad and arm/leg covers would need replacing to match the size, and it’s all a special kind of metal. One able to withstanding just about everything short of their magic. So, at eight, I got the balls to try and run away with the only one of my sisters who agreed with me. We both understood that this shit was bad, feared for our lives we did.

.. We got caught.

She was an example. My mother was convinced that I was going to be the perfect Silver Soldier, so I was not expendable, but she was. Her name was Silthie. My mother chained her down, using some shadow abilities she’d been born into, and started a little ritual. A small yellow-blue light started at Silthie’s stomach and clawed its way up her chest through her head, and out her eyes. She screamed until the very last drop of her soul left her eyes. My mother turned to me and softly, she said. “The eyes are the windows to the soul, my love.” ....

I was dismissed to my room where I locked the door and gouged out my eyes. My father broke down the door and ‘saved’ me. I wanted to die, the bastards had more planned for me. “You have such a future ahead of you!” Bastards...

They replaced my eyes, but the model was an early one. My eyes became super sensitive to just about everything. I could see in the dark, but was pretty much blind in the light, so they made me goggles to go along with them. Made them special just for me. They carved out parts of my skull on either side, and put in some kind of magik infused metal. Once my skin was healed and grown back, the goggles could be worn. They’d fuse to my fucking face until I took them off. My right hand, the metal one, was calibrated specifically to be able to remove them.

At ten years old, I ran away successfully. I’d been trained and doted on to be the perfect soldier. I was ‘programmed’ to be a tactical genius, and it paid off more for me rather than them. I timed the security, unlocked the doors, and ran as far and fast as I could.

I smuggled myself to America and lived on the streets, stealing the food I needed from trash; sometimes I’d break into a nicer house and get food there. I’m not proud of it but I had already gotten out so I’d gotten over my wanting to die. My body’s wiring kicked in and wanted to keep me alive. Though the tech and magik I inherited has something of a life support system. It’s all rather annoying.

Once I was old enough I forged documents saying I’d become an American citizen, and I joined the Military. Army to be exact. Got drafted into this little program due to how trained I already was, not to mention my enhancements. I actually got to work with Captain fucking America, if you can believe it.. You probably don’t.. Did I mention this was the 1940′s?

Doesn’t really matter. I served with the regular-old-army for a good long while. I saw a lot of good people die. Only a few of my friends made it out alive. Eventually, though, I sort of retired? They let me go home and I was more or less on call, but nothing ever happened. Unfortunately for me, someone wanted my ass, and not in a fun sexy way.

This bitch’s name is Viran Hellsoul. Her entire family is at war with the Silvers, who I disowned myself from. I even changed my name to Shade Hawke. Steve even helped me work things out with American authorities, about my papers n’ shit. Because I was a good soldier and explained that my family is full of abusive assholes, they were pretty nice to me. Anyway, Viran is the daughter of Anaya Hellsoul, one of the previous four demonic elements. I won’t go into that bullshit, it’s all convoluted and fucking confusing.

She thought that by capturing me and killing me in front of her family, they’d all love her more. She’s an attention whore starved of attention, and takes it out on torture victims. I was the unfortunate victim.

The first month she had a phase with her whip and I. She focused on detaching my metal leg, which hurt like hell and more, and then would beat me for a while every day. Her magic is even BETTER at keeping people alive though, because she’s an over powered entity of flame with many emotional issues. At the end of the month, her family was supposed to come and there would be some ritual and she’d kill me. Thing is, out of spite I think, they never came.

Over the next two weeks she got kind of bored of me, burning the tips of my fingers and toes every other day. On the alternating days she’d choke me until I passed out, screamed at me until I woke up, and did it again.

She never got out of her denial. She kept telling me I’d die once they came but nobody ever did. At some point, I don’t know when, I became hopeful that they would come. This bitch is the head of Hell’s torture department for a reason.

Month three; She started to carve drawings and designs into my skin. Most of the wounds healed well, some left permanent scars. Those were her angry days...

Month four; She went back to beatings, and added other elements to the mixture. More fire torture, waterboarding was popular which is odd considering she’s Fire. She has something against her sister that represents water. Fuck if I know or care. She would repeatedly degrade me verbally. Nicknames. “Silver Girl” “Silver Bitch” “You awful bitch” “Bitch” in general “Silver Whore” Silver. I hate that word. I hate that color. I hate every aspect of it because in my head I just hear Viran.

She does this, mixed with all previous tortures, for the remainder of the year.

The next year, she starts mental torture as well. Sometimes she’ll just take my brain with magic and play. Go through my time in the Army, mess with that, mess with reality. Some other times, she didn’t even need magic to mess with my reality. She’d just tell me things repeatedly during beatings until I believed them. She made me believe I was her toy. That I was going to be hers forever. She told me secrets about her. She told me that she wasn’t Viran, but Val, one of the many people in her head. All splitting off from the original, Viran. They’re all aspects of her, but they’re broken and not quite whole. I used to care. I used to worry if she came in late... She used to tell me she loved me. I don’t even know what kind of love she meant. It was like a reverse sockholm syndrome. Didn’t love me in a way to let me go though, had to keep playing with me.

I was her favorite toy....

She came up with something new year after year, but eventually she just couldn’t think of anything else. She broke down one day during the fifth year. Something about her sister’s husband. Something about killing him. Something about her mother hating her. I actually cared. I can’t believe I cared.

She let me go that day. I stood outside wondering what was real. For a week I was lost until someone saw me and brought me to the hospital. At the time I didn’t understand what the rape kit was for, but hey. Now I do.

As soon as I was coherent and mentally well enough, I went right back to the military. They gave me a new job. Made me a special operative. I don’t think I’m allowed to tell stories, but I was a sniper.

Seventy-eight confirmed kills..

I went home.

I turned seventy. I don’t age like normal people. Steve and I would have only really had each other for company if he hadn’t gotten Iced, but he did. So I was alone a lot of the time. They would have come for me at twenty seven or any other seven variant if they’d known where I was, but they didn’t. They kidnapped me and nearly got their damn job done. They nearly took my other arm, nearly took my heart, but I escaped on sheer damn luck.

I had to go somewhere more secluded, so I moved to somewhere more remote, but I can’t for the life of me remember where it was. I know it was still in America.

Anyway, that’s when things get fuzzy. Next thing I know, I’m no longer in my body.

I’m in some kid’s brain in something called a system, causing them the occasional PTSD breakdown, but I’m a protector.

It’s not all bad. I have a job I guess. I have a purpose. I even have a partner. Someone from another system. A version of Fenris from Dragon Age. He’s sweet in his own way, but I love him all the same. And now I’m drunk in the headspace, venting my story onto Tumblr.

My life’s been rather odd....