#he was clearly not himself guys viktor made it so clear

[theoldgvard]

and if i said i still do? what then

living my truth: i love jayce

[heraldofzaun]

This is my “Viktor has never been a stereotypical evil villain, you guys are just mean” post.

Hi. Well. That says it all, really, but I guess I should elaborate. I think that Viktor has always been a victim of society [cue Joker meme], it’s just that what society has shifted over the course of his lore update.

With new lore, it’s very clearly Piltover casting him out for his (in my opinion, pretty unethical from the get-go) ideas on free will/worker safety/etc. and that subsequently making him worse. But with his previous lore - what I run off of on this blog - I’ve seen a lot of commentary about how he’s always just been “evil”, or that his motivations weren’t defined, etc. And while I can agree that his old lore certainly has less of a word count (5x less, actually) and doesn’t make his motives crystal-clear, it’s just not true that his original incarnation was just a villainous scientist. (Nor is it true that he was perceived as one by his old fans!) It takes a little bit of looking at Blitzcrank’s lore, and the Journal of Justice (hey, remember that?) to see, but it’s there... So, here goes. I’m sorry for how long this ended up being (2k words!) - it ended up touching on a lot more than just Viktor.

Viktor’s always been stolen from. (Except for Blitzcrank’s newest lores, which contradict Viktor’s new lore, which... That’s a topic for another time.) It’s always been Professor Stanwick Pididly (now Professor Stanwick) who’s done the stealing - originally, he was a professor at Zaun’s “prestigious College of Techmaturgy”. In new lore, he’s a professor at an unnamed academy in Piltover. I think the best way to track the new/old changes is bullet-points, rather than writing this all out. Tumblr doesn’t allow T-charts, sadly.

Professor Pididly in old lore:

Zaunite professor.

Stole Blitzcrank (well, the accolades for developing Blitz’s sentience) from Viktor and Viktor’s doctoral team. (While this is headcanon, I’ve always assumed that Stanwick was Viktor’s (and Viktor’s team’s) doctoral advisor. I can’t quite imagine how else he’d pull off stealing a group project like that.) Viktor subsequently withdrew from the college and “barricaded himself in his private laboratory”. (Which is his house in my personal take, because really - what sort of doctoral student can afford a lab?)

Blitzcrank’s case reached Zaun’s legal system, resulting in a “legal maelstrom” (Blitz’s original lore) that ended with Stanwick presumably being legally declared Blitzcrank’s creator.

Blitzcrank’s lore states that “most now know the truth” in regards to who his creator is. This is important for later, so stick that in your back pocket.

Pididly is referred to as “Professor Pididly” in JoJ issues 3, 18, and 23, which are given the dates of August of 20CLE, March of 21 CLE, and June of 21 CLE.

Side note: According to Orianna’s judgment, which is dated May of 21 CLE - stay with me here, it’ll make sense - Blitzcrank entered the League “years before”. As League at this time was mostly running in time with the real world, this makes sense - Blitzcrank was a 2009 champion and Orianna was released in 2011. Judgments seem to be dated to a few days before a champion’s release, in order to tie with the lore - one had to be “Judged” before made a champion... but I’m rambling. Anyways, years before, back pocket.

Is referred to as “Chairman Pididly” in JoJ issue 27, dated August of 21 CLE. “Chairman” seems to be a title given to those in political power in Zaun. Another example is Chairman Magnus Dunderson, Zaun’s “Chief Executive” (issue 5). (I could’ve sworn that there is canonically a “Board of Executives” in old lore Zaun, but scrubbing through the JoJ on the wiki hasn’t turned it up - just Blitzcrank’s lore mentioning the “Council of Zaun”. Maybe it was fanon? Anyways.) Back pocket!

Also stole some work from Viktor in order to revive Urgot. Urgot’s revival was reported on in issue 3 of the JoJ, and the confirmation that it was from Viktor’s work is in Viktor’s original lore.

Professor Stanwick (Pididly? I feel like they ditched his last name because it was “too silly”, also because Stanwick sounds British-adjacent anyways and that’s Piltover’s “thing” - but anyways) in new lore:

Piltovian professor.

Stole Blitzcrank from Viktor alone, who made the robot to help clean up a specific chemical spill. Viktor went to Zaun for a few weeks and came back to find that Stanwick had “held a symposium on Blitzcrank and presented Viktor's research as his own”. Viktor subsequently continued on his studies, culminating with him later being expelled for “violating basic human dignity”. Viktor returns to a laboratory that he had in Zaun.

Blitzcrank’s case is solely a university matter. Viktor petitions Jayce to help support his claim, but Jayce is Jayce and doesn’t help out. The “matter [is] decided in Professor Stanwick’s favor”.

Blitzcrank’s lore doesn’t really say anything about if people know that Viktor made him (them, technically, but Riot doesn’t get to make the robot non-binary), but I guess it’s implied in the 3rd iteration? (That would be the first new one, after the IoW retcon making most champions’ 2nd lores being the same lore with any reference to the titular League of Legends removed.) He works with Viktor in that one. It doesn’t fit with Viktor’s updated lore at all, actually, because it mentions Stanwick absolutely zero times. (A post for another day...)

Has nothing to do with Urgot, since Urgot’s different now.

So, the general plot of “professor rips off a student” is there, it’s just got an added layer of “professor rips off a foreign/out-group student” in new lore to tie into the overarching idea of Piltover exploiting Zaun. (Is Zaun considered foreign? Yes? No? It’s sort of textually implied sometimes to be another city, but can it actually be when it’s physically underneath Piltover? Is the metaphor in new lore a class thing, then? Is it both? Am I supposed to take Viktor’s Russian accent into account when reading this text? I don’t know.) Anyways, so far so... same, in the broad strokes. Unless Viktor’s villainy in old lore is specifically because someone from his city ripped him off, I don’t know how you can compare new/old lore and say that old painted him as a villain.

But what about the everything else I put there? We’re getting there - that’s part of Viktor’s in-universe stuff. I’m taking a quick detour out of universe, to Jayce’s very first lore...

Which had Viktor stealing a techmaturgical device from Jayce. While I can’t cite this, sadly - thank you, Riot deleting the old forums and me not having the patience to look through archives at the moment - there was a backlash around this on the forums. Why would Viktor, a character who’d been stolen from, steal in turn? So Jayce’s second lore, the one that most people were familiar with before the new lore update, was made. Now Viktor stole a crystal after trying to partner with Jayce, Jayce was less well-established as an inventor, he had a bit more character... All good things. (Also, this is probably where the new lore direction of them being former college colleagues come from.)

Also, as an aside: this is the first use I can see of crystals specifically being described as arcane power sources... The only other discussion of magical crystals was the Brackern... which was then merged into magical crystals having to be from the Brackern... Which means that...

But anyways! Clearly Viktor fans didn’t see him as a villain in 2012, or at least not one that would victimize others in the same way that he’d been hurt. They made such a fuss about it that Jayce’s lore was changed to paint Viktor more sympathetically! (When’s the last time that there’s been that much backl- oh. It’s Seraphine again. Anyways.) So, again, Viktor’s perception as an evil scientist mostly seems to have come from people who weren’t really familiar with his lore. So... case closed?

Except that I also want to talk about in-universe things! Everything that I told you to put in your back pocket! Because this post is already over a thousand words and I have thrown myself firmly into this vortex.

Viktor’s victimization by society [Joker meme] is actually probably worse in old lore, which is a fact that I think has been pretty overlooked. While new lore Viktor gets kicked back down to Zaun and gets his work stolen in academia - with Stanwick presumably never being questioned on whether or not he made Blitzcrank, because there’s that whole “Zaunites are bad” thread that is both in and out of universe... Old lore Viktor sure does get it worse, although I admit that this requires some interpretation of canon. His thing with Blitzcrank was, again, a “legal maelstrom” - and with Blitzcrank being considered a Zaunite celebrity before this court case, it seems relatively easy/logical to infer that this maelstrom was a very public case.

So all of Zaun gets to see Viktor crash and burn in court. I’d say that’s a bit worse than just academia seeing it, as is the case in new lore.

And then there’s Blitzcrank’s lore flat-out saying that “most now know the truth” about who made him. (While this lore does predate Viktor’s existence - isn’t it odd to think about a Blitzcrank made by a faceless team of generic doctoral students, rather than Viktor... and a faceless team of generic doctoral students? - I see no reason not to take it as canonical for Viktor’s original lore. There’d been minor lore touchups before, so if Riot wanted Viktor’s creation of Blitzcrank to be an unknown... they could have edited Blitzcrank’s lore.) But Viktor’s still on the fringes, and nothing in his lore (which, again, was written years after Blitzcrank’s) seems to acknowledge that by the time he enters the League we have confirmation, date-wise, that it’s been years since the truth came out. (Orianna Judgment, etc.) That’s to say: people knowing that Viktor made Blitzcrank does nothing for him - he gets no apologies or anything like that.

Of course, if you take League lore as happening concurrently and nix the Judgments and the League, I guess that this is tenuous - but working within the framework of when he was released, it seems clear to me that the implication of all this lore is (whether it was intended by Riot to be read this way or not) that no one in Zaun cares that Viktor was stolen from. It’s an open secret. No one’s seeking justice for him. But it gets worse...!

So, it’s generally known that Stanwick didn’t make Blitzcrank by the time that the JoJ is running. And he’s just a professor for most of the run of that part of the lore, until... Issue 27. In which he becomes Chairman Pididly, someone who is now implied to have political power. (I have to assume he gets the position due to the political goodwill from Noxus that his revival of Urgot must have brought Zaun, but that’s just interpretation.) But! Even though most people know that Stanwick didn’t make Blitzcrank - that he stole Blitzcrank - he ends up not losing his university job (he’s still Professor Pididly for most of the JoJ, after all) but... gaining political office!

All of this is to say that Zaun is so crooked that you can have the fact that you stole from someone and ruined their life revealed... and get a promotion to government! You can shatter an idealistic man who had a “hope to better society” and make him into someone like the Machine Herald and face absolutely zero repercussions. I think that that is significantly worse than how new lore Viktor’s victimization by Piltover consisted of an academia-only dispute that left him with just some bitterness... New Viktor was, after all, kicked out of Piltovian academia for ethics violations, not for Blitzcrank.

Everything surrounding old lore Viktor is a bit harder to piece together, since you have to look through a few lores and make a few inferences, which is why I think that people don’t realize exactly how bad he had it... (That and time erasing memories, or people being new to the fandom, or people not being interested in Viktor, or...) But he had it bad, and I’m honestly disappointed that we never got to explore much of Zaun’s particular brand of corporate corruption in canon. Now they’re the perpetual underdogs, both victims and villians, and Riot isn’t quite sure how to write them beyond constant exploitation from Piltover. (Even the chem-barons have taken somewhat of a backseat lately in new lore, from what I’ve seen - Piltover seems to be the primary cause of Zaun’s ills, because the combined region is now an upper city/lower city metaphor about class. The chem-barons just seem to be written as a result of Piltover’s ignoring of Zaun - because Zaun seems to be more of an undercity than a sovereign city or state, but that varies depending on whatever piece of lore you’re reading and... Another post, another time.)

So. TL;DR: Viktor’s always been a character who was victimized by a city, be it Zaun or Piltover. Viktor’s always been a character more complex than just a maniacal villain, although it takes more work to see that in his old lore as compared to his new. (His new pretty much screams “we are trying to make him and Jayce morally grey”, after all.) This victimization is arguably worse in old lore, as it’s implied that he went through a very public legal case that ended with Stanwick taking credit for Blitzcrank. In addition to that, Stanwick’s subsequent shift to politics implies that Zaun is so corrupt that most everyone knowing that he’s a thief isn’t an issue at all. He’s untouchable.

Viktor’s always been the result of an idealistic man being crushed by a society that doesn’t care for him and his dreams. That’s nothing new.

[be11atrixthestrange]

Waking Up In Vegas Chapter 9

After a night of debauchery, Ron and Hermione wake up in Vegas... married.

Muggle!AU. Romcom!Romione. Slow burning, smutty, angst-fest.

Rated M for reasons.

Ao3 | FFN

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[Ron]

"Okay. Let's talk," says Ron, throwing his arms down in defeat. "Go on, then."

"Not here!" exclaims Lavender, her eyes nervously scanning the restaurant where they're still drawing attention. "Not in front of people," she whispers.

"Where, then?"

'Your room."

Ron narrows her eyes at her. His room has to be the worst place for whatever conversation she wants to have. He has an inkling that her grievances will include 'don't you miss me?' and 'we're in Vegas, let's live a little' and being in a room alone with her and a king-sized bed is a very bad idea.

However, unlike her previous attempts to get him in bed, this time he has his eyes set on someone else, and her tricks won't work.

"Okay then," shrugs Ron. "Let's go to my room."

Lavender beams, and Ron reckons he should tell her to keep her pants on and her hopes down.

They leave the bar and continue up the stairs to his room, Lavender skipping by his side while her hand swings between them, almost begging for an accidental brush of his fingers. Ron crosses his arms in front of his body, wondering if his intentions were that obvious on the walk back to the hotel with Hermione, when he was painstakingly aware of how close his hand was to hers.

Panic sets in as they approach the door to his room. Did he ever clean up the whipped cream and champagne flutes from last night? Does he even care if Lavender sees?

His question answers itself when he opens the door to find that the room is spotless, thanks to the hotel's cleaning service, but his stomach sinks in disappointment. Maybe spotting the evidence that Ron really has moved on would have been a clear signal for Lavender to follow suit.

Immediately after entering the room, Lavender tumbles into his perfectly-made bed.

"Can you get off my bed?" he hisses.

"Seriously?"

"Yeah. Seriously. It's a bit weird, don't you think?"

She narrows her eyes, which are momentarily wet with tears, before making a dramatic show of getting up.

"Where can I sit, then?"

Instead of getting too comfortable, he'd rather she get straight to the point. "What do you need to talk about?"

"Nothing in particular," she says airily, taking a seat beside him on a barstool.

Ron rolls his eyes. "You just said—'

"I said, I want to talk. We never just talk anymore," Lavender says, as if that was a valid reason to drag him away from a very enjoyable afternoon at the bar.

"We never talk because we broke up."

"Right, and I want to make sure you have people to talk to. You know, confide in."

"Confide in?"

"Yes, Ron. Confide. I can tell you're stressed out. You're doing a lot for Harry and Ginny, planning this whole trip and everything. I just want you to know I'm here if you need a sounding board."

The way she bats her eyelashes at him and reaches her hand to his head to brush his fringe from his eyes sends tingles down his spine, and not the good kind. He sees right through this.

"I'm not stressed," he says, and it's true — he's not at all anxious about the trip. Hermione's done most of the planning, and thanks to her itinerary, things have been extremely smooth.

It's almost as if Lavender can see Hermione's name passing through his thoughts. "It looked like you were having a pretty intense conversation with Hermione Granger at the bar."

Ron doesn't like the sound of her full name in Lavender's voice. It makes Hermione sound like a stranger. Emphasizing the name instead of the person behind it sounds like an attempt to create distance, and Ron doesn't want to know what Lavender plans on justifying with that distance. Other than being a bully, of course.

He hopes his calculated response will get under her skin. "Yeah. 'Mione's great."

Ron's never used a nickname on Hermione before, but Lavender doesn't need to know that. Plus, he likes the way it sounds. Maybe he'll try it later, if she'll allow it, of course.

Without warning, his mind flashes to his bed, where his fingers are digging into her flesh as he grips her by the thighs to pull her writhing body hard against his erection. He's on his back, watching her ride him and freely calling her 'Mione' — moaning it, even. She bites her bottom lip and her breasts bounce with every thrust, her pleasure is evident by her arching back and hitching breath, and she doesn't seem to mind the nickname one bit.

Lavender's shrill voice pulls him from his ill-timed daydream. "I agree, she's great!" she says, her tone suddenly cheerful, like she's talking about a beloved college roommate. "I'm quite surprised by how much I like her. There's more to her than meets the eye, you know."

"Yeah, well, that goes for most people—" says Ron, now in two minds about diverting the conversation away from Hermione. What does she mean there's more to her than meets the eye?

There's not enough time to decide if it's worth humoring Lavender before she continues. "I'm just surprised that you two get along. You're like polar opposites."

He opens his mouth to respond but she interrupts.

"Oh of course! Football!"

"Football?"

"Yeah, she's a pretty big football fan, but you knew that, didn't you?"

He didn't know that, and as exciting as that news is, it makes him wonder how it didn't come up in conversation. She knows he's a football fan. Why has she never engaged him in a conversation about it? Ron shakes his head, refocusing on the present conversation. Lavender might be trying to get into his head.

"I'm sure most of it she picked up from Viktor, but still. She can probably carry on a sports conversation better than me."

Viktor. He knows that name. But it can't be… "Viktor?" he asks, unable to resist asking for more information.

"You know the one, that Bulgarian player."

He sure does. Viktor Krum. "Hermione knows Viktor Krum?"

Lavender scoffs. "Yeah. She dated him. For a long time," she says, reaching for his fringe again. Misreading the jealousy etched across Ron's face as confusion, she continues, "I was surprised too. He's hot. She might not look like much, but she clearly has no problem landing a really good football player."

To Ron's dismay, his daydream returns and he's back in his bed, pinned down by Hermione as she grinds on top of him. But this time, she answers to 'Mione' with a nickname of her own: Vicky. She screams that name when she reaches her climax, but it sucks the pleasure from the moment, and all Ron wants to do is fucking cry.

"Anyway, that's not really my tea to spill," says Lavender, shrugging innocently.

No it's not, he thinks. Although he wishes she didn't spill it, he's grateful she did.

"Are you sure you're okay?" asks Lavender, drawing her hand away and taking stock of his hollow expression.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he responds curtly.

"And we're good?" she asks.

Are they good? He doesn't know — he can't decide if she is manipulating him or not. All he knows is that he's suddenly self-conscious about having kissed Hermione, and curious how it compared to Vicky. He can't help but wonder if her disappointment in finding out she's married to Ron stems from the fact that she could have had anyone else — for example: an older, hotter, professional football player.

"We're good," he says. Lavender doesn't need to know any of it.

"Good."

An awkward silence encroaches as Ron waits for Lavender to leave, but she doesn't move. She looks like she wants to say something else.

"You know I still care about you, right?" she says eventually, breaking the tension.

"Of course," he adds, unwilling to say it back. He does care about Lavender, but he knows she wants to hear it too. It has to be a trap...

"I just miss my best friend. That's all." At that moment, she leans in so their shoulders are touching, and reaches her hand toward his exposed knee.

"Best friends don't sit this close," he says. His tone is colder than he anticipates, but that might be a good thing. It's probably necessary to get his message across at this point. "You should go, Lavender."

She lets out a shaky sigh, and Ron dares himself to look at her face. Her face is reddening, and her eyes water. She's not accustomed to rejection, especially not from him. "Walk me back?" she asks.

"Sorry, Lav. I really need a shower."

She opens her mouth to respond, but then snaps it shut, as if her automatic response was to flirt with him and invite herself to stay for the shower. Her face reddens and she looks away, his rejection fully catching up to her.

"Okay then. I'll see you at the bar later?"

"The bar?"

"Yeah, we're all getting together. Even Hermione," she adds icily.

Ron groans, shaking his head. He knew it. She fucking knows.

"Maybe," he says, avoiding her gaze. He then stands, stumbles into the bathroom, and slams the door.

She is so damn good at getting into his head. How does she know? And is that Viktor Krum stuff true?

There's only one way to find out...

He can vaguely hear Lavender huff as the bathroom door shuts, and he places his hands on the counter to gauge his reflection.

He looks like absolute hell. His skin is shiny and peeling, he has more freckles than he ever thought possible, and his hair is still dripping with sweat. Fuck the desert. How stupid was he, thinking that Hermione might have found him attractive in this state? She was probably relieved when Lavender settled into his lap at the bar; it was the perfect escape plan. Thanks to Lavender, Hermione didn't have to sit around and wave off unwanted advances from the weird sweaty guy she accidentally married — why would she want him when she was used to Viktor Fucking Krum? If it was true, that is.

He hears his hotel room door slam shut, and only then does he feel comfortable turning on the shower and stripping off his clothing, making a point not to look at his scrawny self in the mirror. Ron steps into the shower and groans as the cool water hits his sunburnt body, and forces his mind to wander far away from Hermione Granger.

When he's done, Ron steps out of the shower and towels off, still avoiding his reflection until he can't anymore. He ties the towel around his hips and stomps to his suitcase; maybe he owns something that can make him look somewhat desirable tonight.

He rummages through his clothing, settling on a royal blue button-down shirt and grey shorts. Lavender always says the blue brings out his eyes, and maybe she's right. He reluctantly makes his way back to the bathroom to check his reflection. The blue seems to distract from his reddened skin, and the structure of the shirt makes him look a little bit less lanky. Maybe he could catch Hermione's eye tonight, or, if she's truly not interested, he could attract the attention of someone else.

Someone else? The thought makes his stomach flip — he doesn't really want anyone else.

What would Hermione think if she knew that?

Ron leaves the bathroom, slips on his shoes, and after checking to make sure he has his phone, his wallet, and his room key, he turns out the lights and leaves.

Ron arrives at the hotel bar, and its new appearance leaves him momentarily confused. The bar has transformed from the quaint eatery where he and Hermione shared a round of drinks and appetizers just a short time ago to a bustling nightclub. The walls have come alive with flashy neon lights, which gives the portraits the illusion of movement. Just when he thinks this hotel can't get any more ridiculous, it seems he's proven wrong.

Previously an open-air eatery, the restaurant's doors are now blocked by a security guard standing his ground like a gargoyle. He checks Ron's I.D. then gestures to a sign on the door — something about no guns allowed on the premises.

"I'll have to pat you down."

"Uh, okay," says Ron, holding his arms out, while the security guard scans him for weapons. America's a strange place.

He enters the bar through a cloud of smoke, reminding him of a grade school stage production. People are everywhere, the music has shifted from acoustic tunes to electric pop remixes, and the place smells of cologne and alcohol.

Then he spots his sister at a large rectangular table across the dance floor. She waves him over and hands him a mystery cocktail.

"Drink this!"

Ron can almost smell the alcohol on her breath even though she's feet away. He glances over at Harry, slumped in a chair looking dazed and confused.

"You've gotten the party started quick, haven't you?" asks Ron as he brings the straw to his lips. The wave of guilt induced from the turtle-killing plastic straw is cut off by a slap of sugar and alcohol. "What is this?"

"Don't know!" says Ginny. "You're too sober!"

He decides her assessment is fair as he scans the crowd, looking for no one in particular, of course.

"Lavender's not here yet," croons Ginny, once she spots his eyes washing over the crowd. "If that's what you're wondering."

"It isn't," says Ron pointedly.

But then someone catches his eye. Hermione's at the bar, wearing a tight black dress that instantly makes Ron's shorts feel a size too small. Her hair is pulled back to display her gorgeous sun-kissed skin which looks shimmery and flawless, as if she's wearing a spot of make-up.

As far as he can remember, he's never seen her wear makeup before. Although she looks stunning all glammed up for the night, she didn't need to do any of it. It makes his heart swell and clench at the same time — there's something so vulnerable about Hermione doing hair and makeup for an evening out, and he even dares to wonder if he crossed her mind while getting ready.

If so, he hopes he will have the opportunity to tell her how beautiful she looks tonight. Maybe he'll even get a chance to say it again tomorrow, when all that makeup has been washed down his shower drain or even better — rubbed off by his bedsheets.

Ron gulps down the rest of the sugar-bomb masquerading as a cocktail, and makes his way toward Hermione. As he approaches her, his stomach clenches into knots at the memory of his conversation with Lavender. Viktor Fucking Krum. Is it true? Did they really date? Are they still shagging? It could be Lavender trying to get into his head, but he has to know.

"Hey, Hermione," he says as he reaches the bar. "Long time no see."

Hermione whips around and scowls at him. "What do you want?"

Ron takes a step back, baffled by her response. Did he say something wrong? Maybe she really was relieved to get rid of him earlier, and him approaching her now is the last thing she wants.

"Well, we were interrupted earlier, so I was hoping we could just pick up where we left off at the bar—"

"Oh really?" Her eyes are wide and suddenly angry — it almost wouldn't look out of place if they had turned crimson-red. "You want to pick up where we left off? And where exactly was that? With you staring down my shirt over a cocktail?" The rest of her words blend together, and it's then that Ron realizes she's had a bit much to drink.

Ron's face floods with color and his throat tightens. He steadies his voice to hide his hurt, but it only comes off as angry. "Hermione, are you okay? We should get you back to your room."

She opens her mouth to retort but is interrupted by a man's arm sliding over her shoulders. "Is there a problem here?"

The man is tall, muscular, and wears a smug smile that makes Ron want to punch him in the face. Although it's tempting, one glance at the man's ham-like hands stops him. Ron knows better than to start fights he can't finish.

"Who are you?" he asks instead.

"Cormac," says the man with a thick southern-American twang. "Who the fuck are you?"

Hermione leans into Cormac's arm as he slides a drink in front of her. Hermione immediately puts her mouth to the plastic straw and takes a long swig.

"Well listen, Cormac. I'm a friend of Hermione's," he begins, trying to emphasize 'friend' to convey how blurry their line really is. "She's had too much to drink, so I'm just going to take her back to her room safely now."

Ron reaches for her arm but is cut off by Cormac's hand. That's when he notices the large football tattoo on his forearm. Great. Another football player. Hermione has a type.

"I can do it," growls Cormac.

"No," says Ron. "I will."

"Can I have some water?" slurs Hermione toward the bartender, who instantly obliges.

"Mione," growls Cormac, and Ron's stomach sinks. He immediately wishes he could unhear the nickname slipping from Cormac's mouth — it sounds wrong in his seductive grumble, like he's appropriating a word from a language he knows nothing about. "Do you want to go back with this asshole, or with me? Remember, he lied to you."

"What are you talking abo—"

But Ron doesn't have time to finish his question before a wall of ice-water slams into his face, causing him to stumble back. Suddenly, he's alert, shell-shocked, and full of adrenaline. "What the FUCK?" he yells.

"You lied to me!" mumbles Hermione, now holding an empty glass of water, while Cormac watches on, wearing his smug but knowing grin.

"What are you talking about?" He turns to Cormac. "What did you tell her? And who the FUCK are you?" Ron's heart is pumping fast with anger, likely energized from the rush of ice water that when paired with the heat he's starting to grow accustomed to, has left him shivering from temperature-whiplash.

"Just a guy trying to get some action," says Cormac, quietly enough that Hermione, slurping away at the mystery cocktail that Cormac has so kindly purchased for her, can't hear.

Ron is seeing red. If Hermione's too far gone to care that she's drinking out of a plastic straw, she's too far gone to go home with this twat. The buzz from Ron's single but very strong cocktail is becoming apparent, and he feels like he can run a marathon. Instead, he channels his energy in the best place for it— Cormac's stupid face. Consequences be damned, Ron clenches his fist, winds up, and slams it right into his cheekbone, underneath his left eye.

Ron yelps — his buzzed and adrenaline-filled state isn't enough to mask the pain of his knuckles hitting hard bone, but luckily, his cry is drowned out by Cormac's, who clutches his head and stumbles a few feet back.

"What the hell?"

Before Cormac can retaliate, something, or someone, grabs Ron by the shoulders and shoves him away from the bar. "Get out."

It's the security guard from before, now clutching Ron's upper arm and leading him toward the bar's exit. "It's him that you have to worry about!" he says, trying to motion toward Cormac and Hermione, but he can't loosen the guard's grip on him to muster any gestures.

"Looked to me like you threw the punch," says the guard calmly, before pushing Ron out the door and slamming it shut behind him.

Well, fuck. Now what?

Ron rummages in his pocket for his phone, only to find that it won't turn on. How did he not think to charge it? He has to text Ginny, or even Harry, and warn them about Cormac. Who knows what that man is going to try with Hermione.

He shoves his phone back into his pocket and takes the stairs two at a time, with one goal in mind: find a way to keep Hermione safe.

[silverhandy]

I saw the devil (in me) - chapter 6

Takemura doesn't believe in ghosts, not really, but a man driven to his limit might believe in just about anything. Trapped in a losing game and consumed by grief, he returns to Night City looking for closure. but ends up finding something much more.

ao3 I chapter 1 I chapter 2 I chapter 3 I chapter 4 I chapter 5

    When Takemura opened his eyes, he had no idea where he was, the apartment so foreign compared to what he was used to. The dissonance was almost enough to push the grogginess away from his mind, make the heaviness of his limbs less daunting as he looked around, taking in the surroundings. Right, he was at Viktor’s, must’ve dozed off at some point. At first, Takemura didn’t know what awoke him, other than the painful stiffness of his neck and shoulders but as his vision cleared, that, too, became apparent. Viktor was standing by the kitchen counter, motioning to take off his jacket, the snow that covered the material already melted and soaking into it, but froze halfway when he saw Takemura stir awake.

    “Sorry, didn’t mean to wake ya. Should’ve taken the bed, though.”

    “You did not wake me, I was just about to…” Takemura replied, motioning to get up, but what stopped him was a warning meow from the cat, still lying on his lap. It raised its head, clearly not amused by the disturbance. Viktor raised his eyebrows, a faint smile appearing on his lips as he grabbed himself a chair and sat down, leaving the jacket on the counter.

    “He likes you.”

    “Does he have a name?” Takemura asked as the cat stood up, clearly deciding it had had enough of its guest’s affections, and jumped to the floor in a swift motion, not even glancing at the two men.

    “Nibbles.” Viktor chuckled. “Before you ask, it was not my idea, but V’s. Judy...isn’t in the best place right now, said the cat reminds her of V too much, plus she’s leaving Night City for good anyway. Asked me to take care of it, so I took the little guy in.” he said, looking over at Nibbles, who jumped onto the counter, eyeing the bowls on the far corner of it and finally turning its gaze back to Viktor, disappointment clearly visible in its huge eyes. The ripperdoc shook his head slightly, a soft smile on his face as he engaged in a staring match with the cat, his eyes losing focus behind the tinted lenses as he got lost in thought. Takemura took the time to stretch, the aftereffects of a nap in such an uncomfortable position having stiffened his joints. He didn’t feel rested, more like he had been rather abruptly fished out of a tank filled with warm water. Then again, he didn’t think he knew what feeling rested felt like anymore.

    “A fine feline.” Takemura finally said, only to break the uncomfortable silence between them and to shake the doctor off whatever track of thought he found himself on. Viktor only hummed in acknowledgment, turning his gaze back to the other man.

    “Glad to see you settled in okay. It’s been slow at the clinic, so I thought I would drop by, just to grab something and see how you’re doin’ while I’m at it.”

    Takemura took a quick look at the little screen displaying the time, the digital numbers displayed on a small screen giving off a soft, blue glow. What he probably should have expected, what would have been just a moment of rest turned into a few hours and Takemura had already felt he had wasted enough time.

    “Thank you for the clothes,” he said, bowing his head slightly, as if his words weren’t enough to accent his appreciation. In reality, they really weren’t.

    Viktor waved his hand.

    “Don’t mention it. Figured you’d want to wear something that’d make you feel more...you.”

    Takemura let out a deep sigh. Viktor deserved more than half-truths and omissions. He owed him the truth, after everything the ripperdoc had done for him.

    “I was let go from the company.” Viktor raised his eyebrows at this sudden change of topic, but said nothing, allowing Takemura to carefully choose his words as he continued. “Completely and irrevocably. I refused to accept the consequences my actions have brought upon me and was punished for it.”

    “Letting you out alive was Saka’s idea of a parting gift?” Viktor asked, leaning back on the chair. Despite the calmness of his voice, Takemura could feel a hint of sarcasm, anger even, though it was not directed at him.

    “I would say it was the opposite. In their eyes, I did not take the chance to redeem my honor and have to live with that decision weighing down on me.”

    Viktor hummed and took off his glasses, wiping the lenses on the edge of his shirt. Even though Takemura never wore them, always having been equipped with cutting edge optics, a new set from time to time, long before it officially made its way into the wider market, he doubted cleaning the lenses like this was effective. It almost looked like Viktor was buying himself time to think about what he was about to say, though the silence didn’t last more than a few seconds.

    “And in your eyes?”

    The question took Takemura aback, summing up what he’d been thinking about in merely a few words. A rare thing it might be, an ability he never had, never needed back when his life was dictated by a clear set of rules and orders from people he accepted as his superiors, first in the military and then, later, by Saburo-dono’s side.

    “I...am not sure yet. I came all this way only to realize that what I fought my entire life to protect, to uphold might be little more than a vicious lie. It is hard to face, how replaceable I am. I had been selfish, enough to believe that after I cleared my name and helped Hanako-sama bring Yorinobu to justice, everything would be the same as before. How foolish of me! Before I knew it, the order of things I fought to help restore, one I have killed for, was distorted into something I could no longer recognize. And the scariest part,” Takemura hesitated for a moment, but it was too late to not finish his trail of thought, bare all his doubts to Viktor the way he would never dare to in front of someone else. “is that it might have always been like that. I was just too blind to notice.”

    “Must’ve felt like a rug was swept from under your feet. However painful it might seem, you are your own man now. You can forge your own path, and it’s only up to you if you see it as a blessing or a curse, but it does make a hell of a difference. Trust me,” Viktor said, a warm, knowing smile on his face. “I’ve been there.”

    Takemura felt curiosity rise in his chest, remembering the photo of Viktor from his Trauma days, but he didn’t want to push the other man, just as Viktor had not pushed him. As expected, the ripperdoc didn’t elaborate and Takemura didn’t ask him to. There was a time for everything and he felt it wasn’t it, not yet.

    “Thank you,” he said and stood up, walking to the chair to grab his coat and put it on. It wasn’t that late, he might still be able to catch Akiko at work, not that she ever left it. “I am going to meet with a netrunner, but will be back soon.”

    “A friend of yours?”

    “I would hesitate to call her a friend, but we did help each other. That account I mentioned, I set it up shortly before leaving the city. I never thought I would have to use it again, but as you say...better to be safe than sorry.”

    Viktor hummed in response. “Alright. Just watch your step out there, the snow is pretty nasty.”

    “I will. By the way,” Takemura turned around just as he was about to put his hand on a scanner to open the front door. “what did you do with that car? And the wakizashi?”

    “The sword? Still have it, but left it behind at the clinic. Do you need it back?”

    Takemura hesitated. Does he?

    “Not really.” he silently hoped he never will. “The car?”

    “Had to call in a favor to make it disappear. A real shame, it was quite a beauty. Your Arasaka buddies seem to have cleaned their own mess before NCPD caught a whiff.”

    “Of course. They always do.” and with that, he walked out.

***

    When he finally reached the less frequented part of Charter Hill, the little sunlight that managed to break through the dark, heavy clouds was long gone, giving way to street lights and neons tastefully implemented into the newly built, sleek looking buildings, even though right now they were obscured by the heavy snowfall that made Takemura regret he couldn't just drive there. Even the ever present neons and advertisements were more subtle, on par with the kind of life the people residing in the district were leading - moderately comfortable, a step up from Heywood, but still not high enough up the food chain to compare with those rich enough to reside in City Plaza. Takemura had eventually strayed off from the wide, open spaced pavements into a more dense area, navigating the increasingly narrow streets that exposed the true image of Charter Hill, the middleman district with nothing but a pretty exterior masking the rot that went too deep into Night City’s system to ever be truly hidden, revealing itself in various ways, from overworked corpos passed out the benches despite the grueling cold to the occasional bloodstain on the pavement, only partially obscured by fresh snow, one that the cleaners haven’t managed to scrub off yet. An organic proof of meaningless violence in a place that kept eating its own young and hopeful, entangling them in an endless web of favors and obligations, one that kept tightening and spreading all around the city. Even Takemura, on his first visit to Night City, out of money and resources, found himself entering the untold arrangement that kept the city ticking, indebting himself to people and indebting others for his sake just to keep himself afloat. Some of the favors he already cashed in, others he hoped he’ll never have to, but at least in this case he didn’t walk past the rusty gate to the netrunner’s basement with cautious distrust, as he did with so many others. Akiko was different, much more human despite the fact she interacted with the ghosts floating around the Net much more frequently than with regular humans. Despite that, she still had something that many have lost on lesser endeavors - a conscience and a heart to back it up.

    As he walked down the stairs, careful not to slip on the ice the water dripping from the roof has turned into, he pushed the heavy, metal door open, only a small name plaque an indicator of who might reside there. The doors closed behind him with a dull thud, one that almost made him jump as he walked further into the building, following the neon line on the floor, the only source of light in the otherwise completely dark corridor. Eventually, it widened into a large room, the netrunner the only person there. For a second, Takemura didn’t even see her until he turned his gaze to the server on the left side, one of many lining the walls. Before Takemura had a chance to announce his presence, the netrunner’s voice came, a bit muffled:

    “Yeah yeah, gimme a sec!” the woman muttered, her entire torso still hidden inside the jaws of the machine as she tinkered with its’ insides, balancing on one foot as she struggled to reach for the cable she needed.

    “No rush, Akiko,” he said, leaning on the doorframe, seemingly the only place in the entire room where he wouldn’t have to worry about tripping over or breaking something, the space was so densely covered with cables and spare parts spread all over the floor and running up, creeping up on the walls, some insulated with a dulled glow of tiny LEDs, basking the room in an unnatural, blue light. How the netrunner could work like this, Takemura had no idea.

    Upon hearing his voice, the woman jumped, hitting her head on the metal plate with an audible thud. Cursing under her breath, she finally emerged and turned to face him, rubbing the back of her head with a pained expression.

    “Takemura, you scared the shit out of me! Some warning would be nice,” she complained as she walked over around the partially disassembled netrunning chair to greet him, a smile on her face despite her seemingly cold tone. She looked different from the last time he’d seen her, her previously long, greying hair now cut short and dyed angry pink, reflecting the blue hues and creating strands of violet that danced around her face every time she moved her head.

    “I presume this means you have not expected me.”

    “After our last conversation? The only person I expected to see less was Saburo Arasaka himself. What brings you back to Nigh City? I thought you hated the place.” she said, stepping over a box of what looked like fried cyberdecks to grab a chair. “Here, take a seat, you look like you’re about to topple over.”

    Takemura sighed and reluctantly sat down, secretly grateful for the offer. The room was unpleasantly warm, servers towering one next to the other enough to bring the temperature up to a point where he had to shake off his coat.

    “I came to honor the memory of a friend and stayed to admire the scenery,” he said, his attempt at sarcasm met with Akiko’s expression softening. Takemura saw the way her eyes kept darting to his arm, bandage peeking out from the long sleeve of his shirt.

    “Shit, I’m so sorry. It was that merc that you worked with, right? I heard about what you guys pulled at the parade from a ‘runner friend of mine. With what came after, I thought you’d be back at Saburo’s side in Tokyo, so…”

    “Akiko-san, excuse me, but I did not come here to gossip.” he stopped her mid sentence, feeling a sudden need to cut this conversation short and get out of this warm, confined room into the biting cold of Charter Hill. The woman looked surprised at the retort.

    “O-of course. Whaddya need?”

    “That account I asked you to set up before I left. Is it still up?”

    This time, she scoffed.

    “‘Course it is. I have one of these beauties constantly pulling it in and out of the Net as we speak.” she pointed to one of the servers lining the wall. “Normally it would’ve cost you a ton of eddies to keep it buried as deep as it is, but I honor my debts. You helped me, now I’m helping you, no questions asked. Although…” she trailed off and crossed her arms. “I’d certainly appreciate it if you cared to share why the hell you need to cash that one in in the first place. Arasaka not paying as much as they did back in my day?”

    Takemura grunted. Of course, she, of all the people he got to know in this godforsaken city, wouldn’t let him off the hook that easily.

    “We had a disagreement of sorts, one that resulted in me being let go in a rather abrupt manner. I did not have much time to make preparations for such an event, hence I come to you. I need to get access to the deposit. Can you do that for me?”

    Akiko narrowed her eyes, clearly not expecting such honesty on Takemura’s part.

    “Well then,” she said, reaching for a port box propped up next to one of the many screens standing on the tabletop. “of course I can. Just jack in and I’m gonna walk you through it.”

    “I am afraid my personal link is out of commission for now. Is there any other way?”

    “Good luck getting around the city without one. You had a ripperdoc take a look?”

    “I did,” he replied, a bit annoyed at her pretentiousness. “Please Akiko, just focus. Is there any other way?”

    “I can put you through a neural port directly, but…”

    “What?”

    “You’d have to jump into the Net with me and to be frank, you don’t look like you’re at the top of your game. With no one keeping an eye on your biomon, I’m worried you could flatline on me.”

    “So I can either wait until my personal link can be fixed or come back here with a ripperdoc?

    “A tech savvy one at that. And someone you trust, considering what we’re doing here.”

    Takemura was silent for a few seconds, considering. Just a few months ago, he’d probably rush into it, not wanting to stall his progress any further, determined to keep things moving even if it would cost him later, but now, with the unexpected turn his life has taken, he wasn't so quick to act. If jumping into the Net was as risky as Akiko made it out to be, and he had every reason to trust her on that, pushing for it right now would be counterproductive. He thought about Viktor and how his work would go to waste if Takemura was to fry on the netrunner’s chair, so much effort on the ripperdoc’s part for nothing. Other than the need to pay Viktor off as soon as possible, even if only to make up for his kindness, since the doctor not only did not push Takemura to hurry but offered him a place to stay so casually, there was nothing rushing him. No time sensitive goal that required him to push himself far past his limits as he feared not only for his uncertain future, but for his very life. It felt odd, in a way.

    “Fine. I think I know just the right person.”

[prongsies]

Star-Crossed ⁕ Chapter Seven

←Chapter 6 |  Master list

Thalia wasn’t able to get any sleep that night, staring at the ceiling of her four-poster bed as she recalled where she went wrong, in which part of that day did Fred start treating her differently. Did she really force herself into the Weasley family? Last she recalled, Bill, Charlie, and Percy seemed pretty fond of her – and so were Ginny and Ron.  

Molly had expressed her love for her countless of times – was all of it fake?  

She was distracted by a knock on their dorm room. Wiping her tears away, she glanced towards her clock that read 5AM, as she slowly peeled herself off her bed. Illuminating her wand as she opened the door, she was surprised to see Ginny standing on the other side, offering her a tired – yet sleepy – smile.

“George told me what happened” Ginny whispered, walking in, following Thalia onto her bed, “I thought I’d offer you some of my company”

“Thank you, Gin” Thalia replied, lying down beside Ginny, who had already slipped under the covers, making herself comfortable.  

They were face-to-face now, Ginny smiling at Thalia, “We love you, you know?” She whispered. “Fred, George, all of us – me, especially. You practically grew up with us. You're- you're not just a friend. Merlin, you risked your life protecting us back in the World Cup”

“That’s... that’s something people do, Gin – it's a given”

“I can name a handful of people who wouldn’t jump in front of Death Eaters to protect others at the top of my head – a hundred of them, even! If you’d give me some time to make a list”

“You don’t-” Thalia giggled, “You don’t have to, Ginny. Besides, Fred was probably just stressed out. He's always wanted to prove himself as something more, you know? And I guess he saw the Triwizard Tournament as the proper opportunity to do so”

Ginny stared at her for a moment, eyes wide, studying her, “How do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Defend him... even if he’s hurt you”

“I guess” Thalia didn’t know how to properly word her reply, “I guess he means a lot more to me than an argument – that our conflict is far less important than our friendship”

Ginny hummed, failing to stifle a yawn as she buried herself deeper under the covers, “You’re way too good for him, Lia... and I can’t wait to be there when he realizes that”

She woke up hours later, feeling a bit lighter in her chest as she pulled herself out of bed. Noticing Ginny had left, probably to get breakfast, she pulled on her comfiest clothes – mainly a pair of jeans and an oversized sweater – dragging her feet down the dormitories and out the Gryffindor Tower. The walk to the Great Hall had been peaceful, since majority of the students have already gotten up before her, leaving the hallways almost empty, aside from a few students who have finished breakfast early.

It was easy to spot Ginny among the crowd of students, since the moment she entered, the younger girl was already waving her over. With a smile, she approached her, greeting George and Lee with a good morning.

“Lia,” George started, turning his attention towards Thalia as she poured some cereal into her bowl. “I’m really sorry about last night”

She looked up towards him briefly, giving a smile, “You shouldn’t be the one apologizing, you weren’t the one saying any of those things. You were even trying to stop him but he wouldn’t listen”

“And he was a prick for not doing so” Lee added from across her, shaking his head. “I don’t know what’s gotten into him - do you, George?”

“I’m afraid I have no clue” He shook his head, “He wasn’t like that last summer”

“S’far as I can remember, he couldn’t get his hands off you” Ginny pointed out, smirking up at Thalia whose couldn’t help but smile at the memory of Fred clinging onto her on the sofa, refusing to let go even when Thalia made a move to stand so she can greet Charlie.

A few moments of silence passed between them as they ate their breakfast, Ginny and George sending looks towards one another behind Thalia, before Ron’s voice cut into their group.

“Lia, Krum’s looking at you” He croaked out, earning a laugh from Thalia and Harry - who laughed into his drink.  

Thalia looked up and peered towards the Slytherin table, to see that Krum was indeed looking at her. What caught her attention more, though, was the same Durmstrang boy from last night, who immediately broke his gaze towards her shyly when he had realized that she was looking.  

Out of curiosity, she watched his interaction with her cousin, Draco, who seemed to be arguing with him. It caught her by surprise though, when Viktor had stood up, forcing his friend up as well, dragging him towards their direction with Draco leading the way.

“Merlin’s beard he’s coming this way!” Ron shrieked, hiding his face in excitement as Viktor Krum neared. 

She didn’t think much of it as the trio got closer, her attention drifting further away when Harry and Draco began their usual row. However, when Draco called her attention, she was quick to look up, eyes landing on the Durmstrang boy for far longer than she intended to, before darting towards the smirking Draco Malfoy, who had caught her stare.

“Good morning, dear cousin! I’d like to introduce you to someone...”

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚

Fred stirred awake from his short slumber, stretching his aching back as he looked towards the clock in their dormitory. He cheered internally, realizing there was more than enough time for him to catch breakfast, even if he was nearly an hour late. He glanced towards his brother’s bed as he left his bed, muttering profanities while he slipped on his sweater, blaming his brother for his need to rush since he wasn’t woken up.

He caught sight of the cauldron on the floor in between their beds, confused as to why it was there, with a moss-like green liquid inside it, until the events of last night started to sink in slowly. He couldn’t escape as the foul words he had said to Thalia started pouring into his memory, his harsh and sharp voice snapping towards her.

“Shite,” He whispered to himself, rushing to put on his shoes as he walked, nearly stumbling in the process. He rushed out the dormitories and out the Gryffindor common room, running towards the Great Hall where he was sure he would find Thalia.

He smiled when he saw her in their usual spot laughing at Ron with Harry. Their attentions directed somewhere Fred was unsure of. He was about to follow their gazes when a shoulder bumped into his roughly, putting him out of balance.

It was nearly impossible for him to hold back his gawk, realizing that it was actually Viktor Krum. The Bulgarian Seeker turned back to look at Fred, mumbling a “sorry” as he continued to drag his friend towards...Thalia's direction? by the collar.

Fred couldn’t spare a laugh even when his younger brother had shrieked into his hand, disbelief in his face to see Krum was approaching them. By that time, he become much more curious and wary, especially upon seeing Draco Malfoy lead the group.  

He heard Harry snap, “Sod off, Malfoy” as he neared his siblings, standing just a few ways away from George and Lee.  

“As if I’m here for you, Potter” Draco sneered, snapping his head towards Thalia who wasn’t paying them much attention.  

“Good morning, dear cousin! I’d like to introduce you to someone...” The blonde moved aside to showcase the Durmstrang, patting the bloke’s shoulder. “This is Leo Kurroff. He said he found you bloody gorgeous -”

"I’m sure the lad could speak for himself” Thalia interrupted.  

Fred could practically see the way her eyebrow raised just from the tone of her voice which breaching the fine line between sarcasm and dead-seriousness. He knew where this was going. He knew Thalia, who had claimed far too many times that relationships weren’t her thing and that she’d wait until graduation to find someone.

He smirked, waiting for Thalia to reject the poor man, who had now turned red in embarrassment. He leaned on George’s shoulder, his twin glancing briefly at him before returning his attention to the scene. Merlin, they’ve seen how she’s rejected people before! that poor seventh year Ravenclaw a year ago, and those two Gryffindors in their year – watching this is going to be fun.  

“Well, out wi’it, boy!” Lee teased from his seat near the Durmstrang, Leo,, elbowing him in the arm.

Leo cleared his throat, looking paler than he did seconds ago, before rushing out, “Willyougoonadatewithme?”

“Excuse me?” Thalia laughed softly, she was smiling at him in amusement now.  

Fred looked down to see Ginny and Hermione giggling behind their hands as they watched Leo rub his face in frustration, before shifting to Ron who was nearly hyperventilating at his close proximity with his favorite Seeker. 

Leo took deep breaths in, before stepping forward, looking far more confident than he had been moments ago. “Will you go on a date with me?” He asked clearly this time.

By now, they have gathered the attention of nearly half the Great Hall, including the professors’ in the staff, who were watching the scene unfold in front of them. It felt like no one was breathing in the silence of the hall, all eyes towards them as they waited for Thalia’s response.

Fred couldn’t help but think about how much of a shame it was Leo decided to ask her out publicly, which would equate to an ever more public rejection. His thoughts left his mind when he saw Thalia open her mouth, grinning as he waited for the big fat ‘NO’ to leave her mouth. Here it comes, and-

“I don’t see why not?”

A wave of emotions washed over Fred, sending chills down to his toes as his grin faltered. He could barely hear Leo ask a ‘really?’ in disbelief as he felt his eyes dart anywhere but there – anywhere but the scene in front of him. 

Maybe it was the guilt of last night’s events that caused his reaction? Or the lack of sleep? Or the fact that Thalia has been making more guy friends this year while Fred and her were drifting apart?

In the corner of his eye, he could see Ginny looking at him in both disappointment and worry. But his mind was fuzzy to the point where he had to steady himself on George’s shoulders for a moment.

“You alright, Freddie?” Fred hadn’t even noticed that Viktor Krum and the others had left – hell, he didn’t even realize he had his eyes shut tightly as he tried to regain his steady breathing.

He didn’t respond. Instead, he met Thalia’s eyes, who stared back at him with pure concern in her face. He could read her like an open book. Her eyes were pained as she looked at him, even if she tried to hide it. He couldn’t stand seeing it – he couldn’t stand looking at her. So he did what is probably the second worst thing he had done to her in the span of a few hours. He ran.

Master list | Chapter 8→

A/N: Jordan Fisher as Leo??? Yes please!!

STAR-CROSSED TAG LIST:

@elf-punk​ @bloodorangemoonlight​​ @peachesandpinks​​

[sir-huffman]

Someone puts one of Alice's gramaphone next to Huffman and put a disk in. It's a recording of everything Viktor just said about his feelings for him. You're welcome, Huffman.

Viktor’s Feelings on Huffman | @otverzhennyy should start digging his grave

He was patrolling Angel’s Share ( as usual ) that this strange occurrence happened. Usually there was light music in the background, the off tune voices of the bards singing softly in the background. Everything that was just background noise to Huffman on the day to day basis. But there was two things that could truly get his attention. One. His name being said. And Two. A voice of someone familiar to him.

And as soon as he registered both Viktor’s voice along with his name being directly said...it halted Huffman’s tracks in looking around for said Fatui only to find him no where...at all.

Of course, Huffman listened, trying to find where Viktor was...walking down across the stone path and into the alley ways as things were quickly becoming something that the entirety of Mondsadt SHOULDN’T HEAR because, well...it was becoming quite clear that this was a private moment of thoughts being broadcasted loud enough in the Market District ( specifically Angel’s Share on his patrol route ).

Lord Barbatos.

His eyes glanced over at everyone ( the jeweler and the barker ), and gave them a look to the both of them. And all of them had a momentary mutual understanding before dropping everything to scatter and search for the location of the voice.

The only GOOD thing that game out of this was that it was Huffman who was the one to find the little gramophone by the time Viktor’s voice was going off about wanting to break him and essentially make him his.

He took the stylus off of the tack, before picking up the disk and ( momentarily ) hesitated on breaking it on his knee.

Inevitably, he didn’t despite the deep desire to do so. The contraption was clearly something made by Alice as it had her craftsmanship on it as well as it being such a whimsical device that destroying the whole thing would insult her work. And Huffman didn’t want to have to deal with an upset Alice should she return and confront him about destroying apart of her device ( because somehow she knew everything ).

The only thing that Huffman truly hoped was that (1) Viktor was truly not within earshot of hearing himself talk about Huffman AND hearing it being broadcasted to everyone outside of Angel’s Share. (2) That only the regulars ( the jeweler and the barker ) were the actual only ones who had heard such things as well. And he knew them well enough that they’d keep their lips sealed. and (3) no one but the three of them actually heard this cursed recording because Huffman knew that both Hertha and Guy were barely within earshot of hearing the recording as well as well as any other patrons at the tavern.

[pretty-thoughts-and-a-pen]

Dark Feathered, (1)

A boy, a demon and a mystery box left on his doorstep with a cool surface and an aura of mystery. Such is how the stories of Cyan Archer begin.

Demons were majestic, alluring creatures that appeared in your living room at the call of a symbol and finished off your plate of cookies. As Cyan watched the darkness spread and thicken under the flickering lights of the room, he was reminded once again of how he did not ask for any of this.

An inky black cloud hovered over the red circle painted on the floor, with two lines slashed through it making a cross. No, it was not blood, simply red paint. Cyan didn't know why he bothered. It was impossible to scrub off afterwards, and it wasn't like demons demanded the summoning symbol look like it was drawn in blood - they could make do with chalk, no problem. But Cyan could be whimsical that way, and whatever little things he could take pleasure in from time to time, he wasn't going to give up so very easily.

A shape started to form in the mystical cloud that was only getting more and more compressed. A vaguely humanoid figure could soon be discerned, and when the lights stopped flickering, the sound of two feet gently tapping onto the floor followed the image. Cyan blinked and rubbed his eyes. It was easy to get caught up and disoriented during the summoning. Nevertheless, he quickly clasped his hands behind his back and bowed his head, training his gaze onto the pointed, black shoes that stood on the edge of the circle.

He kept his tone low and respectful. "I, Cyan Archer, welcome you into this home-"

The shoes were gone.

Cyan's head snapped up. Against the backdrop of his white ceiling, two large, feathered wings, black and shining as if they were a piece of the midnight itself, fluttered away in the direction of the kitchen. A moment later, a crashing sound indicated the box on the counter had been knocked off. Cyan's body relaxed then, and a suffering sigh ripped from his throat. It wasn't one of the higher ups then - the more dangerous ones that required Cyan's full submission. No, it was HIM.

Good news...mostly.

He jogged over to the kitchen and there he was. Lounging on the counter with his back against the wall, the young man could've been mistaken for a normal teenager, if not for the wings that protruded from his inhumanely pale skin, so intensely dark they seemed to absorb the brightness around them. The rest of him - small, brown eyes, hair that was just a slightly darker shade of brown, and a fit, tall stature- was incongruently ordinary when put together with demon wings. Even the symbols and words that adorned his neck, chest, and arms in swirling, dizzying patterns, could've been mistaken for tattoos by someone who didn't know better.

But Cyan was not fazed by the abnormal, and instead focused on the fresh batch of cookies he had left out, which were being devoured. He had seen it coming; he had known Alistair Shade long enough to not be surprised. And annoying as that was, he would take one of the friendliest of the demons he knew over the other, less amiable, members of his species any day.

"Ally." He strode forward and tried to hop onto the counter across from him. Alistair, however, quickly stretched his legs out over the whole thing and flippantly kicked him off. "Hey, what the hell?"

The demon smirked. "No space on my throne for people who call me 'Ally'."

He took several seconds, then, to chew two cookies at once. Cyan huffed. Filling up the time, though, he bent over and picked up the box from the floor. The rectangular-shaped piece of polished wood was no bigger than his average school textbook, and no heavier either. As he dusted it off, a familiar prickling feeling arose in the back of his neck. He could've sworn the wood got colder under his fingertips the longer he held them there. Its gleaming surface reflected his face, but not correctly. Distortedly. Cyan knew a thing or two about having his worldview turned upside down, bent and distorted beyond belief, and it had made him forget who he was before his mother and sister had decided to change everything. He did not appreciate a bent image of him staring up from a box that probably contained nightmares inside.

He decided he hated it.

So, naturally, he plopped it onto Alistair's legs.

"Rude." Alistair put the plate away and ran his appraising gaze over the object. "Certainly very pretty, Cy. What's inside?"

"I'm not entirely sure I want to know." Cyan pursed his lips, and settled for glaring at the lid, so that it would come off on its own and save him the trouble. It didn't. "Kind of why I was summoning one of you guys. I thought I could get some information, or someone would just confiscate the thing. Stolen demon property, sir." He made sure to make his voice thick and ridiculous, for the impression of a certain demon named Viktor he wasn't particularly fond of.

Alistair just stared at him for a long time, his stoic expression revealing nothing. He couldve just been contemplating. And then...

"Fallen angels."

He said it matter-of-factly. Cyan just waved his hands around. "Oh, come on! Everyone says 'demons' when they see black wings, and creepy symbols, and-"

Alistair leaned forward and wrapped a hand around his mouth to shut him up. "And you're not everyone. No 'demons'. No 'Ally'. Now," he lightly tossed the box in the air and rattled it, revealing a clinking sound that indicated numerous tiny objects bumping around inside, "are you going to open this? Preferably while we're still young, please."

So Cyan took his sweet time. He pinched the bridge of his nose under his glasses, wiped off his sweat multiple times, paced the kitchen a little, and shoved Alistair every time he laughed, or shook the box pointedly, or snapped his fingers and dyed Cyan's light blonde hair a horrendous shade of red. The two of them only stopped when it became clear that the box was, in fact, getting colder with every passing second.

"Is it just me," Alistair wondered, blinking, "or were those icicles not there under the lid before?"

"Not there." Cyan marched over and took the cursed thing, firmly putting it down on the counter after Alistair vacated it. The demon stood nearby, still and steady, and Cyan found himself hiding halfway behind his outstretched wings, while leaning as far away as he could from the box whose lid he was prying open.

Finally, he flicked the lid aside. Quickly, he jumped completely behind Alistair and ducked behind his back, settling for peaking over one broad shoulder. The boys waited with bated breath - for smoke, hellfire, booming laughter. Nothing.

Cyan leaned over, holding onto Alistair's shoulders for support. He looked into the box to see...

...coins?

No ordinary coins, either. The wooden hollow was brimming with intricately carved, golden coins that shone with an unearthly light. Against all expectations, that didn't seem dangerous. They were very clearly beautiful and valuable.

Cyan stepped out of hiding and reached out to take one. "Well, this isn't so bad."

Alistair grabbed his hand in mid air.

The demon's face was always pale, but now it looked sickly and etched with fear. He pushed both of Cyan's hands down and away, then, slowly and carefully, plucked something out of the box with the very tip of his fingers. Not a coin, but a note, which had been buried amidst the gold. He smoothed it out on the counter, and Cyan couldn't help but note how much distance he had suddenly put between himself and the box, where previously he had been standing directly in front of it and been the human's shield.

Only three words on the paper, written in block letter. HIDE IT, CY.

Cyan grabbed Alistair's arm as support. "Ally, what's wrong?"

Alistair threw his head back and breathed in deeply. "Those coins, with purple carvings instead of black? And creating ice out of thin air? I'm pretty sure they belong to...an Elder. And not just any one." He fixed his eyes on Cyan's face, and his usual cool and calm expression mostly returned, except for his irises getting darker and darker progressively, which ruined the image. "He is famous for conjuring ice for his work, and to enchant his property and protect it from intruders. I think," he turned to look at the dreadful treasure once more, "those belong to Lord Julius."

If there was one thing Cyan did not want to face, it was an Elder. There were demons that were considered young, who had died and turned recently, and these could be reasonable. One of these was Alistair, and he was an outlier case altogether. Cyan even knew that these young ones were called Saplings, as a result of some inside joke that had apparently lasted millennia.

A testament to how chill they could be.

But then, on the other hand, there were the Elder demons. These had been around since the dawn of time, and they were everything Cyan feared. Powerful, ill-tempered, and full of pride that you had better not wound, and on top of that these came with a variety of unique flavors of powers. Ever since his mother, Rose, and his sister, Bethany, had decided to dabble in the occult, one of the most unfortunate consequences had been this - their family's entanglement with Elder demons.

Cyan tried very hard to keep the tremble out of his voice. "So," he pretended his hand wasn't shaking as much as it was, "I'm assuming Julius didn't mail these as a nice gift, did he?"

"No." Alistair was too grim for Cyan's comfort. If he would just make another snide comment, or do something silly, the teen's world would turn slightly more right. "We might have a big problem here. Rose and Bethany..."

Seeing no escape from this predicament, Cyan chose to bury his face in Alistair's shoulder. Casting a weary look at that dreadful treasure again, he nodded.

"...they stole an Elder's gold."

[omnyamaflowerz]

Baby Boy

A/N: It was time to try something new. I hope you guys like it. This is a black reader insert like all of my fics.

Warnings: smut and nothing else, dom/sub mechanics, spanking, orgasm denial, Dom!Reader

Viktor rushed in the door from the gym. He tossed his gym bag down and put his phone and keys on the hallway table. He hurried through the townhouse, cleaning. He shoved every bit of clothing into the washing machine he could pick up. He shoved the dishes from the sink to the dishwasher. He wiped down whatever surface he could with a disinfectant rag. He frantically looked around and made sure nothing was really out of place.

His phone chimed again. He dashed to it. Viktor cursed in Russian as he rushed back to the bedroom, trying to somewhat to make it up. He went into the bathroom, putting towels on racks and sprayed the shower. He frantically wiped it hoping the smell of the cleaner would not stick around for too long in the event you decided to wash up from your trip back.

Viktor rushed back to the kitchen. There was no food for you to eat but, he’d make it that he wanted to take you out for dinner. He went over things in his head trying to make sure there was nothing else.

You opened the door and heard a thud. “What the hell?” you said as you felt a force against the door. You stepped through, bringing your suitcase and carry on bag in. You huffed as you dragged it in and put it to the side. You grimaced as you found that Viktor’s gym bag was keeping you from opening the door. You put your purse on the hall table and walked into the kitchen.

Viktor was hurriedly putting dishes away. His head snapped in your direction. You stopped in the archway. You looked at over the dining room and squinted. You turned your head and looked at Viktor in the kitchen, almost frozen in place as he put plates in the cupboard.

You knew he didn’t keep the house clean. It didn’t even smell the way you liked. The trash was very much full and reeked. The dining table had specks of crumbs and ring stains from cups. You sighed and looked over at Viktor.

“So, you’ve slacked off since I’ve been away.” you said. “All you had to do was keep the house clean.”

Viktor turned to you, jaw clenched. He couldn’t give you an excuse. Nothing he could say would keep him from punishment. He missed you and wanted time with you. However, there was a tinge of disappointment in himself as you had to come home upset with him and his negligence.

You sighed, taking off your heels. “Go. Take off your clothes and get on the bed.”

Viktor nodded and climbed the stairs. You followed behind him, holding your heels. Once you got to your bedroom, you let Viktor undress and get on the bed. You put your heels in the walk-in closet and pulled the drawer out. You shed your clothes down to your matching set, placing your clothes in the hamper. You picked up the lavender colored riding crop before walking back into the bedroom.

“You know...I was prepared to come home and give you a reward.” you said. “I had missed you so much that I just couldn’t wait to come home and surprise you.”

Viktor kept still on the bed, hands and knees pressed into the mattress. You smiled at the sight but, remembered you had to be upset with him. He could hear the disappointment in your voice. And disappointment was dangerous.

“Do you have anything to say for yourself?” you asked, tapping the crop in the palm of your hand.

“I’m sor-” Viktor started. He hissed as the crop cracked on his backside. He took a breath calming himself.

“Mommy doesn’t like excuses.” you said. “I only asked for one thing while I was away. What was it?”

“Keep the house clean.” Viktor said. The crop hit his ass again. He welcomed the sting as he bit his lip.

“And you clearly didn’t do that.” you said, delivering another slap. You caught a glimpse of Viktor’s hand clutching the sheets. You chuckled as you rubbed the leather loop along his reddening ass cheek. “You were doing so well. I was so proud of you. You just had to ruin it.” You gave him another smack.

Viktor jolted forward slightly as you continued with his punishment. He had never been so weak with a woman as he had with you. Part of him loved it. The fact that he could be so vulnerable around you and at your touch. He was pulled from his thoughts when the crop hit him again. Viktor grunted through it while trying to hide his enjoyment. However, it was very much clear as you spotted his erection. “On your back.”

Viktor rolled on his back. The tip of his dick, glistening and a pale shade of pink. You licked your lips. Your mouth watered at the sight of him but, giving him head was a reward. You had a lesson to teach. You massaged his balls, a moan escaping his mouth. “You look like you have a load for Mommy. Been saving yourself for me?”

“Yes.” he said as he gripped the sheets, trying to restrain himself. “I wanted you to have it all.”

“Aw, that’s sweet. Well, I hate to break it to you.” You said, leaning into him. You kissed along his ear and neck as he huffed. “Only good boys get to come.”

Viktor’s eyes snapped open as he felt your hand leave his sack. He grimaced and began to whine. “Please, wait.” he started.

“Stay there.” you ordered in a stern voice as you went back to the closet. Viktor laid back on the bed, but turned his head to see you go back into the closet. You reemerged with a pair of handcuffs. You straddled him. You both looked at each other. Your eyes had a chill to them that scared him slightly. You didn’t break the gaze as you handcuffed him to the bed. You dragged your manicured nails from his wrists to his chest. Viktor’s heart raced as he felt the urge of having you. You looked so heavenly on top of him. You chuckled as you ran your thumb across this lips and the corner of his mouth, wiping a bit of drool.

“Now, you may not get yours, but I’m not doing all of this for nothing.” you said. You stood up in the bed. Viktor squirmed as he watched you from below, taking off your panties. Your arousal was clear but, the moisture that had spread over your lips a tad. Viktor grunted in anticipation. He could almost taste you now. You balled up your panties and put them into the palm of his hand, signaling for him to hold them. You lowered yourself to sit on Viktor’s face. He pulled at the cuffs as he lapped at your folds. You moaned as his tongue grazed your clit. One hand gripped the headboard and the other on the top of Viktor’s head.

Viktor used his tongue diligently as he tried to remain still for you. He still squirmed a bit. You reached behind you for the crop. You gave him a light tap on his knee, a reminder to be good. He dragged his tongue over your entire slit. Your head tilted back, your hips began to move. Viktor grunted into you. You leaned back, your hips moving to a rhythm. Viktor licked along with you. You reached back, slowly stroking him.

Viktor bucked his hips slightly, a physical request to go faster. A request that was denied. You stroked him, almost teasingly. You moaned as Viktor sucked on your clit for redemption. Lovingly, passionately bringing you to your orgasm.

“There you go, baby.” you said. “Just like that.” Viktor repeated those movements, soft sighs coming from him as you toyed with his member. The pressure in your stomach built up and you knew you were close to coming. Your grip tightened on Viktor’s dick. You stroked him faster. Motivating him, tricking him into thinking he was forgiven.

He eagerly licked and sucked on your clit. He felt your thighs squeeze around his head, signaling you were close. His member twitched in your hand. Breathy moans left your throat as you flinched. “Almost there baby.” you said.

Viktor’s toes curled as he felt his release rising. Just as you came, you came out of your position to hold onto the headboard. Viktor was left to catch your release on his tongue but, he had to go without his. You gasped, as you ground your hips against him, riding out your orgasm.

After a few moments, you rolled off of him. Viktor licked his lips clean but, looked to you with puppy dog eyes. You looked over at him and chuckled. “Oh, honey. I told you. No rewards.” You took the panties from his clutched hand. You leaned in, giving him a tender kiss then replacing your lips with your panties. “Open.”

Viktor heeded your command, opening his mouth. You stuffed your panties in his mouth. You got off the bed and turned on the TV, changing the channel to ESPN. “At least you won’t be bored while you sit here and think about what you did.”

You went to your bathroom, taking a shower. You took your time, purposely. Once you exited your bathroom, you locked eyes with Viktor. You sighed, walking over to the bed. You collected the keys from the nightstand and unlocking the cuffs. “Finish the kitchen and dining room. We’ll order out tonight.” Viktor promptly hopped off the bed, putting his briefs and sweats on. You were about to walk away until you felt Viktor’s hand grab your wrist.

You turned back and saw that needy look on his face. You opened your arms, hugging him. You rubbed his back, tenderly. Viktor pulled back for you to kiss him. He deepened it before you pulled away. He gave a soft smile.

“I missed you.” you said.

“I missed you, too.” he said. You patted his back, chuckling.

“Go fix my dining room so we can eat.” you chuckled.

FIN

[hogwartswelcomesyou]

Do you think you could sort Harry Potter characters that weren't in Hogwarts, or didn't have their house mentioned? Like Krum, Fleur, the Dursleys, etc (other characters that I'm sure are very important but I just can't remember right now?) Thanks! Also you guys are doing an amazing job!!

Viktor Krum: Hufflepuff

Viktor Krum is a Hufflepuff because he clearly has many of the same traits and values as Hufflepuffs tend to have.  He had to work hard to enter the Quidditch League at such a young age, even though he is of course, very skilled. He is an extremely good sport, complimenting Harry on his flying during the second task, and he values fair play. He also isn’t arrogant or showy, skilled as his is, preferring to find his strength in relationships with people like Hermione rather than his screaming fans. 

Vernon Dursley: Gryffindor

Vernon. Dursley. This man is similar to Dudley. No ambition, wit, intelligence, kindness, loyalty or real traits that fit into Hogwarts houses. The only house he would possibly fit into is Gryffindor, purely because he has the nerve to be a toad to Harry and anyone else who is different. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Petunia Dursley: Hufflepuff

Petunia is a character who lives for her immediate family. Everything she does, is to make her son happy, and keep her husband happy and satisfied. She puts her two boys first, and lets nobody get in the way of their happiness. Not all Puffs are perfect, and neither is Petunia, and she lets her nephew Harry, fall by the wayside, and many Puffs can do the same with some people they know. A Hufflepuff is not exempt from feeling negative towards people and how they’re treated, they’re just much better at hiding it.

Dudley Dursley: Gryffindor (but, in all honesty, a squib)

Unfortunately, for Dudley, this is a matter of elimination. He is definitely not witty or intelligent, nor is he kind, patient or hardworking, and he definitely isn’t ambitious. He later in the series seems to fit Gryffindor the best, especially when he stands up to Vernon and Petunia. Sadly though, Dudley will never ever pass on Wizard genes, as J.K. has stated magic would have never made it past Vernon, and into HIS children. 

Madam Pomfrey: Ravenclaw

Madame Pomfrey always knows what to do, regardless of what ailment a student comes to her with. She’s a quick thinker, and is always able to figure out exactly what her patients need and how to help them. Even if a student has come down with something rather strange, she has the cure for it! This quick thinking is a clear sign of intelligence on her part, and it’s also a great example of creativity (have you seen what the students get sick with? You have to be creative in order to come up with something to cure that.) She has to be a Ravenclaw!

Cornelius Fudge: Slytherin / Hufflepuff

Slytherin: I put him as Slytherin because he cares so much about how others see him. He’s not trying to do what’s right, he’s trying to do what will protect his image. Reputation is his ambition is my interpretation. That’s the house he fit best for me, because he shows no kindness or bravery or intelligence. 

Hufflepuff: Slytherins generally don’t care that much about public opinion – if they can do what they want, screw the haters. Look at Umbridge. Look at Voldemort. And while Fudge shows some ambition (sort of – his main goal seems to be staying where he’s at and keeping the Wizarding World from engaging in war), he does not show much cleverness, resourcefulness, or disregard for the rules either. Fudge having such a focus on the world at large and how he is viewed unfortunately speaks to me much more of Gryffindor, which values glory and esteem from others. Even being so passive, people-pleasing, trusting, and stubborn and wanting things to remain peaceful and comfortable at all costs reminds me more of Hufflepuff. And of course this is also about personal values and not just personality traits…Fudge doesn’t show kindness, bravery, or intelligence himself (just like Peter and Lockhart don’t show their house’s main trait), but I would argue he does show evidence of valuing loyalty (as we see in OOTP). So I would argue Hufflepuff.

Rufus Scrimgeour: Gryffindor

Scrimgeour’s focus, unlike his predecessor Fudge’s, is enforcing what he in his heart thinks is best on the world at large. Being an Auror in the past, he has a “heroic” streak that makes him want to stop evil and save his world…but unfortunately it is misguided in the world of politics, as Scrimgeour puts more value on achieving glory for himself over logic or even correctly catching the perpetrator. Image is very important to Scrimgeour, similarly to how it was to Fudge, but Fudge cared about making sure everything looked fine to maintain peace and stability. Scrimgeour cared about making sure everything looked fine to reassure a frightened public and, in doing so, look heroic himself – hence why he so passionately sought to be associated with Harry and Dumbledore. Gryffindor is clearly the best fit.

Porpentina Goldstein: Gryffindor

Tina Goldstein attended Ilvermorny School with her sister Queenie, at which she was a Thunderbird. The Thunderbird house favors adventurers and it is said to represent the soul of a witch or wizard. In the Fantastic Beasts film, you can clearly see that this sorting was no mistake; Tina oozes courage, from her willingness to go after Newt no matter the dangers (whether they be from his creatures or the law) to her nerve, which led her to interrupt a meeting with the President of the magical American government. It seems to me that Tina is easily a Gryffindor!

Queenie Goldstein: Slytherin

Slytherin: Queenie may be a nurturing sort (which is hinted by her Pukwudgie placement in canon), but her focus is both on herself and her inner-circle, hence why she is so purposeful in looking pretty and stylish (unlike her sister, who is more frumpy and practical in her fashion). She can be incredibly crafty and flexible and uses her talent as a Leglimens to manipulate people expertly (which as a side is a very appropriate talent for a Snake, as we’re often very in tune with other people’s feelings). She also shows no particular care about rules – heck, she breaks her sister, Newt, and Jacob out of captivity. I see Queenie as the perfect example of a Slytherin on a small scale – sure, she has no ambition of conquering the world, but she will fight to protect her loved ones at all costs.

Hope you like!

-Mods Tori, Tory, Star, MoMo, Jinxy

[konekochugirl-blog]

Harry Potter and the Lost Girl Ch3

Chapter Two Chapter One Prologue

Rated T for now, may change as story progresses. What if Harry Potter had more family then just the Dursley’s? What if Harry Potter had a sister that no one ever spoke about? This is a story about a lost sister of Harry Potter. What she brings to Harry and the others live’s during their years at Hogwarts. What factors will change with her existences?

Harry Potter and the Lost Girl. By Konekochu ~ Sandra Andrews Chapter 3 – Champions

Alexa studied and watched other students in the library the rest of the day, going over potions and Herbology books. She couldn't really concentrate very well though, yesterday's and that morning's events and encounters going through her mind. She couldn't understand why she felt like she knew Professor Snape, and was drawn to him. Even before that when they met Draco Malfoy, she was sure she has heard her Uncle Karkaroff mention a Malfoy to her before in the past. When it got close to dinner time she put away the borrowed books and packed up her belongings. First she went over to the ship and dropped off her school things in her room then headed back to the Castle Great Hall. When she walked in she noticed it was almost full when she got there, she saw Harry, Ron and Hermione at the Gryffindor table and Krum at the Slytherin table with the rest of her schoolmates. It appeared that Krum kindly saved her a seat so she headed over to him. Alexa caught Harry's eyes as she walked by and they smiled at each other as she made her way over to Krum and sat down. She suddenly felt and icy glare on her and looked over at the head table and there was Professor Karkaroff staring at her. 'He is totally going to be asking about that smiley exchange'. Alexa thought to herself and sighed. She also noted that Professor Snape was watching her as well but not quite the same amount of ice to it, more curiosity and suspicion.

The Goblet of Fire had been moved back in front of the head table centered in front of Dumbledore. The Halloween feast seemed to go on forever everyone talking about who entered and who they want to get picked. Alexa was indifferent as it wasn't like she had a shot as she couldn't enter, she couldn't lie that there was a part of her that longed to be the center of attention and have people acknowledge her. She hated being ignored all the time. Maybe she just longed to have a true set of friends. Alexa looked over to Krum and smiled. 'Well, at least I have one. That should be good enough right?' Alexa thought. Krum noticed Alexa smile at him and gave her a small smile in return. They had a brief conversation on what the other did that day. Apparently Krum spent a lot of his time today at the quiddich pitch and exploring the grounds.

At long last everyone had finished eating and the tables cleared of the food and dishes. Dumbledore then got to his feet. Silence then filled the Great Hall as everyone was waiting to find out who the Champions will be, even Professor Karkaroff and Madame Maxime looked tense and expectant as the students. Mr. Crouch looked quite uninterested and even maybe a little distracted maybe even bored, however. Ludo Bagman was beaming and winking at various students around the room.

"Well, the Goblet is almost ready to make it's decision," said Dumbledore approaching the Goblet. "I estimate it only needs another minute or so." Dumbledore looked from the Goblet to the students. "Now when the champion's names are called, I would ask them please to come up to the top of the Hall, walk along the staff table, and go through into the next chamber" - he indicated the door behind the staff table. - "where they will be receiving their first instructions."

Dumbledore took out his wand and made a sweeping motion with it, all the candles with the exception of the ones in the pumpkins in the Great Hall went out. The goblet now appeared to shine more brightly than anything else in the room, sparks soon began to shoot out of it into the air and the whole room gasped. A piece of parchment shot out out of the blue flames of the goblet which Dumbledore caught and read then looked up.

"The Durmstrang champion is… Viktor Krum." he announced and the room burst into the applause. Over at the Slytherin table Viktor looked very happy to be chosen and stood up. Ron was heard yelling 'No surprise there' from the Gryffindor table which made Alexa smirk as it was true. Not really a surprise at all. Karkaoff was counting on Krum being chosen at champion, being one of the most athletic and talented at the school. Alexa stood up with him and gave him a congratulatory hug.

"Congrats, be safe my friend." Alexa trying her best not to sound a little jealous and gave Krum a smile and a wink. Krum returned the hug and smile.

"Thank you Lexi!" he replied and then headed to the other chamber by the head table as Dumbledore had directed.

"Bravo, Viktor!" boomed Karkaoff so loudly everyone could hear him. "Knew you had it in you!" Alexa had sat back down she was happy for him but now felt a little lonely now that Krum wasn't there anymore. She glanced around the room, attention had now returned to Dumbledore and the cup the moment Krum has entered the next chamber. The Goblet then began to glow red again and sparked began to fly, another piece of parchment flew out of the flames and Dumbledore caught once again and read it quickly.

"The Beauxbatons champion is… Fleur Delacour!" said Dumbledore. Alexa looked over the hall and saw a girl with silvery blond hair and somewhat resembled a veela gracefully stand up. Alexa cringed she didn't like princessy girls very much.

"How is such a delicate flower going to survive this tournament." Alexa muttered under her breath imitating a french accent. A few students sitting near her one being Draco Malfoy laughed.

"Maybe she won't. The tasks are not meant for the 'delicate'". Draco replied looking over at Alexa and smirked. She raised an eyebrow at him.

"I have a feeling she won't last very long or not do too well at the very least." Alexa responded. She then looked over at the table she had risen from and could help but laugh a bit at the other Beauxbaton's students reactions. While some of them cheered there were a few girls were burst out in tears and the jealousy couldn't be hidden in the faces of others. "Geez, I really can't stand some french and their pompousness." Alexa made a sour face, so ridiculous. Draco turned to look at the Beaubatons students and shoot his head with disgust.

"Seriously." Draco replied. Alexa and Draco looked at each other for a moment and smiled before Draco turned his attention back to Dumbledore. Alexa then peeked over that Harry and the others she spoke to briefly in the morning and they seemed to be also watching and discussing the Beaubatons students. Fleur had vanished into the next chamber and the cup began to glow red and spark again which drew Alexa's attention back to it. There wasn't a sound from the Hogwarts students as their champion's name flew out of the flames and into Dumbledore's hands. He read it and then announced with a smile.

"The Champion from Hogwarts is… Cedric Diggory!" Dumbledore could barely finish saying the name as the Hufflepuff table burst into cheers and applause. Draco sneered and gave a disgusted look.

"A Hufflepuff, really?" Draco sighed. Alexa watched and noticed that Cedric was a tall attractive looking guy that seemed well liked my most students. Several of which gave him high fives and shook his hand as he made his way over to the directed chamber, Dumbledore patting his shoulder as he walked passed him. The cheering went on for quite awhile, but died down when Dumbledore opened his mouth to speak.

"Excellent!" Dumbledore called happily. "Well, we now have our three champions. I am sure I can count on all of you, including the remaining students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, to go your champions every ounce of support you can muster. By cheering your champion on, you will contribute in a very real -"

Then Dumbledore suddenly stopped speaking, Alexa confused started looking around trying to figure out why and it then became apparent to her and everybody what had distracted him. The fire fire in the Goblet had turned red again. Sparks were flying out of it. Alexa jumped a bit when a long flame shot out of it into the air, shooting another piece of parchment into the air.

"Huh?" Alexa said confused. "Another one?"

Dumbledore reached out and caught the piece of parchment and stared at it for several moments bewildered. Everyone was staring at Dumbledore.

"Harry Potter?" Dumbledore whispered. Students began to whisper to each other no one made out what he had said. "Harry Potter..." he said a little louder, his tone confused. The mutterings became louder as some of the students who sat closer to the head table was able to hear him.

"What did he say? Another Champion?" Alexa asked Draco. Draco turned to look at her and shrugged and turned back to Dumbledore.

"HARRY POTTER!" yelled Dumbledore. Alexa's eyes went wide with surprise and like everyone else turned to look at Harry. Who clearly looked as bewildered as everyone else and frankly looked like he may wet himself. There wasn't any applause only shock swept through the room. Soon whispers sprouted though the room mostly with angry tones.

A chair screeched as it was pushed back and Professor McGonagall stood up and swept past the other teachers and over to Dumbledore whispering urgently, he frowned. Alexa was in awe, it was no secret that the boy was not of age to participate and wondered how in the world he got his name in the cup and how and why the cup shot out a fourth name, how was that fair? Alexa continued to watch Harry he finally moved to look at Ron and Hermione as he shook his head and said something to them. She assumed he was denying putting his name into the cup. Up at the table the other school's headmasters and the ministry staff had joined Dumbledore by the Goblet whispering back and forth. Then Professor McGonagall turned to look and Harry and lifted her her motioning him to come forward.

"Harry Potter." She called over to him. "Harry! Up here, if you please." Harry shakily stood up and moved forward after a push from Hermione and stumbled slightly. Alexa's eyes followed him as he walked over to the Professors.

"Well… Through the door, Harry." Dumbledore said with a blank look. McGonagall gave him a pat on the shoulder and then nudged him on. Everyone watched him unloving still like statues bewildered as he made his way over and into the next chamber. Ludo Bagman excused himself from the group and followed Harry into the chamber. Dumbledore then turned to the rest of the students.

"Now the events for tonight are over for this evening, everyone should make their way back to their common rooms, it's getting late." Dumbledore announced to the students "Teachers, Mr. Crouch." Dumbledore then moved and made his way to the chamber followed by the other headmasters, McGonagall and Mr. Crouch. The Great Hall erupted in voices from confused, surprised and angry. Alexa shot out of her seat and walked over to Professor Karkaroff before he made it into the chamber.

"What's going on Uncle?" she asked her curiosity getting the better of her. Karkaroff shot her an angry glare.

"Not now girl, head back to the boat with the others." Karkaroff spat and the continued into the chamber. Alexa made a face thinking 'oooh, he's pissed.' Then made her way back to her seat where she grabbed one last butter tart and taking a bite.

"So, what did he say?" Alexa jumped and coughed as she nearly swallowed her tart the wrong way. She turned and noticed it was Draco and the two gnarly boys that always seemed to follow him. 'Got to love minions.' she thought. She shook her head.

"He didn't tell me anything. Shooed me off, not surprised. Probably will hear him ranting about it on the boat later. We probably won't get much sleep… very hot tempered he is." Alexa said.

"Psht" Draco spat. "Just like Potter, managing to find a way to worm his way in. Always getting special treatment that one. Thinking he is better than everyone. Thinks he's special." Draco frowned and crossed his arms. Alexa was thoughtful for a moment.

"He looked surprised, but that could have been an act to fool the teachers." Alexa replied dusting off crumbs from the butter tart that had fallen on her. Draco nodded.

"An act for sure, he always needs to be the center of attention. Things around here always seem to revolve around The Great Harry Potter." Draco replied.

"I wonder if they will actually let him compete? He isn't 17. Though they may have to, when you name is chosen by The Goblet is creates a binding magical contract that can't be broken. They may not have a choice..." Alexa thought out loud. Draco was a bit astonished she knew those details, he didn't. Not letting it seem like he didn't he straightened his robes and replied.

"Well… there you go. Wormed his way in indeed. Doubt he will last long in the tournament any way." said Draco. Alexa noticed from the corner of her eye that she and Draco were being watched by Hermione and Ron and turned her head to look at them and frowned as they seemed to be giving her a look of disapproval. Draco followed her line a sight and scoffed when he noticed the Gryffindor pair watching them. She also noticed the other students clearing the hall and made a note she would have to get going soon too.

"Potter's posse. The Mudblood and Weasley." Draco sneered. Alexa looked back at him with a blank face. She was used to hearing people being called Mudblood's so it didn't bother her too much but it did, ever so slightly.

"She's a mudblood?" Alexa asked raising an eyebrow. Draco nodded. Alexa was about to say something more but suddenly there were loud footsteps and suddenly large hands on their shoulders.

"Go on students off to your common rooms, you heard Dumbledore." Hagrid said with a smile and hurrying them off. Alexa and Draco nodded at each other and then went their separate ways. Draco down towards the dungeons and Alexa outside and to the boat.

Alexa flopped down on her bed and looked over at the other side of the room, her roommate wasn't there, which she was grateful. It wasn't too much longer till she heard a loud bang and boat shook slightly. Karkaroff voice could be heard through most of the boat.

"I can't believe they are going to let that Potter brat compete!" He bellowed. Then another bang and shutter. Alexa rolled her eyes and sighed. She then heard a slow thudding steps coming down the steps she knew that walking pattern. Alexa shot up out of bed and hurried over to the door, opened it and poked her head out. She was right.

"Krum!" Alexa said a little louder then normal grabbing him and pulled him into the room. Though underestimating his weight and him being taken completely by surprise they tripped and stumbled back, falling down onto Alexa's bed. Krum having landed right on top of her stared down at her. Their expressions mirrored each other, eyes wide and shocked. Alexa laughed. "Sorry about that Viktor, you on top of me wasn't my intention." She said as Krum sat up with an embarrassed smile on his face.

"You are a silly girl Lexi." Krum replied. Alexa grinned as she sat back up on the bed. "I take it, you are wanting to know what happened in the back chamber?" he asked.

"Yeah!" Alexa replied excitedly leaning forward. "Judging by Professor's yelling when he got on the ship that they are definitely going to be letting Potter in the tournament. Do you know how he did it or who did it?" she asked. Krum nodded.

"He says he didn't put his name in the cup, judging by how he was behaving I don't think he put his name in the cup or had someone do it for him. He was taken by surprise same as everyone else." said Krum. Alexa tilted her head slightly thinking.

"They at least got to have a theory on how his name got in the goblet?" Alex asked.

"Yes, the professor with the magical eye… Moody I think he name was. Thinks that someone used a strong Confundus charm on the Goblet making it think they were four schools competing, listing Potter the only student from that school competing guaranteeing his name being drawn." Krum explained. Alexa's eye went wide in surprise.

"It would take a very strong wizard to be able to Confund the Goblet so it had to been an experienced wizard, like one of the teachers or something. Why would they do that, extra student in the tournament? Why Potter?" Alexa asked thinking out loud. Moving of the bed to lean against the wall taking a moment to look out the window for a moment before turning back to Krum.

"That is what our Professor and the headmistress from Beauxbatons thinks, that someone put his name in so they can have a better chance at winning. Professor Moody thinks that who ever put his name in the cup is trying to get him killed. Making sure he is chosen by the Goblet and knowing he would have to compete." Krum said.

"Binding Magical Contracts can't be broken." Alexa finished and Krum nodded confirming. "It's going to be an interesting year all right. I'm going to need a lot of pop corn." She finished. Krum laughed softly and stood up.

"It is late we should get to bed, busy year indeed." Krum and Alexa shared a light friendly hug. Alexa walked Krum to the door and wished each other good night, then walked further down the hall to his room. It was just then Alexa's roommate arrived back to their room, having seen Krum leave the room Anastasiya raised an eyebrow at Alexa, she then noticed Alexa's bed was a little messed up as she got to her own bed.

"Having a little fun, with our school Champion? Little slut." Anastasiya taunted Alexa who flopped onto the messy blankets then smirked over at Anastasiya.

"Oh yes, loads of it. He's going to bed pleased. I'm rather tired now, I'm going to sleep. Goodnight!" Alexa just going with it. She tried her best not to let her classmates get to her she didn't care about the rumors that sometimes went around about her. Having started a few of them herself, she hated to admit it she found it funny sometimes what people whispered about her. Alexa noticed she forgot to change into her sleep wear and got up quickly to change and got back into bed and turned and faced the wall. By this time Anastasiya as well had gotten into bed still shooting dirty looks at Alexa. It wasn't too long the pair of them fell asleep and all that could be heard from the ship was snoring and Karkaroff's ranting.

–

End Notes: Sorry for the long wait for this chapter, June and July got really busy. I got Married! I then changed my mind on some matters with the previous chapters which I went back and fixed, reedited. Things will flow a lot better with the minor changes I made. The next chapter shouldn't be as much as a wait. I really hope you enjoy and please let me know what you think.

[plot-twost]

Fic: Forever And Ever And Ever

Title: Forever And Ever And Ever Genre: Humor Pairings: A little Vikturri mention at the end, but just barely Rating: G Warnings: Character death, but not the bad kind, just the inevitable, off screen, old kind. That can create ghosts.

Summary: Yuuri is a ghost haunting an abandoned house, when a college student and friends decide to try to communicate.

[[written for day one of Yuuri Week]]

The attic was dusty, but not altogether unpleasant. The house had probably been abandoned for six years or so, not too terribly long, but the attic was full of boxes, photo albums and one incredibly cool antique chair that, while mildewy, still looked amazingly comfortable.

Yuuri couldn’t exactly sit in it, but he could still appreciate a well-worn armchair.

Yuuri was carefully flipping through an album – one page at a time, slowly, because being corporeal was hard – and admiring the smiling faces and silly poses of a family on the beach when he heard voices, floating through the ventilation from the front yard.

“Guys, guys, GUYS. Guys. I’m serious. This is going to be so. Cool!”

‘He’s back,’ Yuuri thought, floating over to the slatted opening, looking down. ‘He’s not alone.’

“When I was here last time, I felt something!! It like… touched my back!”

The young man was leading a group of two others, motioning excitedly towards the front door. His eyebrows bounced up and down, waggling, and Yuuri smiled. The other two looked to be a bit younger, both with lighter hair. The taller of the two newcomers was smiling slightly, talking.

“Guang Hong, I don’t think it’s gonna be… dangerous or anything,” he said. “Phichit wouldn’t take us somewhere where we would get hurt or something.”

Phichit paused in front of the door. “I am so certain that the spirit within this house is a good one!”

“What makes you so sure?” who Yuuri assumed to be Guang Hong responded.

“I got a Feeling.”

“You always get ‘Feelings.’ Last time you had a ‘Feeling,’ we had to call Leo’s mom to come pick us up from the fire station,” Guang Hong said.

“I’ve already warned her about tonight,” Leo chimed in, smiling.

Phichit opened the front door at that point, and the other two followed him in. Yuuri smiled and floated down through the attic’s floor, into the second, then first story of the house.

It wasn’t his house, and he wasn’t sure how it came to be abandoned. He’d been haunting the place for on and off for a couple of years, working his way slowly through the interesting items in the attic. Once he was done, he’d move on. It’s just how things are done.

Phichit came by the house last week with a camera, something very large and clearly expensive, taking photos in the overgrown garden out back and the vintage kitchen. He’d been poking around the living room when Yuuri came up behind him, pushing himself just enough to brush a hand against the back of the neck, then laugh when he squealed.

But Phichit hadn’t run, he’d started poking around more, so Yuuri dropped a few pennies, made a few ghastly moans and made invisible faces behind Phichit when he started to snap his adventure.

Yuuri wasn’t surprised to see him again, but he was surprised that he’d brought friends.

The three men had a couple of bundles with them, and Yuuri watched with interest as they rolled out a large picnic blanket in the middle of the living room, placed some little LED candles in the middle, and situated themselves in a loose circle around the little setup.

(It looked like Guang Hong’s bag was just full of snacks.)

“Okay, hands out,” Phichit declared, holding each of his hands palm-up at his sides. The others joined hands with him, a slightly lopsided ring resulting.

“Oh Spirit of 42nd Street –”

“I’m not ready yet!!” Guang Hong screeched, yanking his hand out of Phichit’s. “Give me a second!”

Yuuri waited patiently.

“Oh my god, why.”

“I need to mentally prepare myself.”

Phichit rolled his eyes so far Yuuri could see the whites. “Just… put your hand back in the circle when you’re ready.”

Leo just sat, serenely smiling, while Guang Hong made a point of inhaling deeply, closing his eyes, and breathing out slowly, before deliberately placing his hand back in Phichit’s. “Okay,” he said softly. “I’m ready.”

Phichit cleared his throat.

“Oh Spirit of 42nd Street, House 4639, we are honored to be in your space! Please, if you are here with us tonight, please give us a sign!” Phichit intoned, sounding very serious.

Yuuri let the wind blow around their circle gently, ruffling hair and making Guang Hong shiver, while both Leo and Phichit looked at each other with eyebrows raised.

“We are… uh, we are honored by your presence, additionally! Thank you! We are here to commune and discover what ties you to this mortal coil!” Phichit continued. “Please use the candles and like… blink them at us! One for yes, two for no, okay, question one! Were you MURDERED in this HOUSE?”

Yuuri laughed, the sound chiming through the room like bells, and concentrated on one of the little candles, blinking it slowly once, twice.

Guang Hong let out an awful noise.

“Holy shit,” said Leo.

Phichit was smug. “Told ya so.” He shifted a little. “Did you DIE in this HOUSE?”

Yuuri blinked the candle twice.

“Did… uh… why are you here?”

Yuuri blew the wind again.

“Okay, yeah, not a yes or no question. Um.”

“How many years have you been haunting this house?” Leo chimed in.

Yuuri blinked the light twice, propping his head up in his chin as he floated just behind Phichit.

“Are you being held here against your will?” Guang Hong asked, quietly, a tremor in his voice.

Another two blinks.

The three looked at each other, while Phichit let out a slightly exasperated noise. “Are you like the most boring ghost ever?”

Without warning, the windows clanged hard, the broken panes in one shaking with a frightening rattle, and all of the candles in the circle blinked out at once. The wind Yuuri had been gently blowing suddenly picked up, gusting and lifting the corners of the blanket.

A howl started, inhuman and everywhere at once.

Guang Hong was the first the jump, shaking off the fear and with a death grip on the other two’s hands. “OH MY GOD WE’RE GONNA DIE!”

Leo and Phichit hopped up right behind him, both screaming, and the three ran out of the house, down the front steps, and out into the street.

Yuuri sighed.

“Was that absolutely necessary?”

Viktor floated into his vision, a pout on his lips. “I just wanted to have fun!”

“I think maybe you went a little overboard. I liked Phichit. What if he never comes back?” Yuuri said, turning to his husband.

“Oh, they always come back. Then we can tango!” Viktor smiled brightly.

“That’s… not how this works, Viktor,” Yuuri laughed, shaking his head.

“I saw it in the film reel though! It can, too.” Viktor reached out for Yuuri’s hands, drawing him into a very loose tango.

Yuuri laughed some more. “We haven’t even finished the first class. We have plenty of time.”

“We have forever,” Viktor agreed, twirling around in midair with Yuuri held close. “And ever and ever.”

[beshka-yuratcha]

Victuuri Mermaid AU ch. 2

(I don’t have a title for this yet feel free to suggest one)

Splashes was what woke Viktor from his sleep. Three splashes big enough to wake him but small enough that at first it didn’t register as a threat until the trio discovered him. Before he could fight back he was being dragged out of the water by one and being nosed at by the others. Sea Dragons, young ones, babies really, he realized as he caught sight of the one who had his tail. They already had sharp teeth and claws for being so young and small. The size of a large dog they were all different colors; one had bubblegum pink scales, one had violet scales and the third had cornflower blue scales. Teeth sharp enough to puncture through his own scales and claws that tore his fins as he was poked at prodded at bu snouts, tails and paws. They were young and not very careful with their claws and teeth hurting him as they dragged him up to the surface so they could get a better look at him. He let out a keen of distress frightened and hurting from his rough treatment by these little creatures. Where was Yuuri? Did he know these little Sea Dragons? Did he send them? No they didn’t seem to know he was there till after they jumped in. Most likely they saw the pool and jumped in discovered him and got curious. These girls were too young to go out into the sea very far and especially without their clan. They would only be allowed out so far and their parents would be with them at all times as would the rest of their clan safety in numbers for such little beings. These guys would practice swimming on land somewhere safe and secluded and not very deep such as the pool Viktor was in. They probably often swam here and didn’t realize their pool had been closed off due to Yuuri placing him in here. 

Viktor let out more screeches and cries of distress and anger and pain at being dragged out of the water and onto dry ground. He was pulled roughly away from his pool and dropped the trio of dragonlings who proceeded to explore every inch of him. He knew how to speak human languages at least a few of them anyways but he was in far to much distress to think clearly. While his species primarily spoke through a series of clicks, whistles and other noises like croons and keens they could also speak mind to mind which was great for more detailed or in depth conversations. They also sometimes spoke out loud as not all species of sirens or mer or even other creatures could understand them. He wasn’t sure if these little dragons could understand his human speech probably they were rumored to be intelligent but they were young and their parents and clan most likely spoke to them primarily in their own language. They most certainly didn’t understand the noises he was making. He was too far from his pool to get back to the safety of the water where he could move easier. He was already weak from his other injuries from his capture in the net but added on the new ones he had received from the careless treatment by the dragonlings he was in no shape to even try fighting them off on land barely able to move let alone try whipping his tail at them or use his claws. That would probably also grab the attention of their parents who would then go after him for hurting the babies. Instead he focused his attention on another pool that was closer. It was smaller and shallower then his but despite the rock ledge surrounding it he could probably make it over and into the water. 

More or less dragging himself along with his arms he used his tail to bat the dragons away from him still making those consistently loud noises. He was in too much of a panic to notice the steam coming off the water or notice how the dragonlings were making their own distressed noises or how they tried to herd him away from the other pool. One tried grabbing his tail and hauling him back but got slapped by the fin for her trouble. It was only after he finally manged to slide into the water did he realize his mistake. This pool was way to hot for him. The water was also not slat water which didn’t make much of a difference as his kind could survive in fresh water but the temperature was way to high for him. It burned him and sapped the strength from him causing him to give another much louder sobbing cry of pain curling up in on himself as he slide under the water’s surface far to weak by then to pull himself back out. The trio gathered around the pools edge roaring the loudest they could calling for help jumping and climbing all around the edge every now and then diving in to try and get him out themselves only to scurry out of the water quickly for it was too hot even for them. Their scales were soft still in most places making them susceptible to extreme temperature fluctuations.  A loud roar filled the air and a giant adult dragon flew over head his scales ranging in shades of blue starting out as a pale blue and darkening as they moved down his body so while his silver white crest that ran down his back was surrounded by light blue scales his belly and paws were black as was the tip of his tail. His belly though was more of a mix of dark blue and black with some purple mixed in. Viktor could make him out in surprising clarity from his curled up position under the water and couldn’t help but think him to be gorgeous, beautiful even.  There was a human word that seemed to suit this dragon perfectly. Eros. 

Eros dropped down swiftly out of the sky sliver claws breaching the water and circling around him gently encircling him within them. He had been in these claws before he realized. This was the dragon who had pulled him out of the ship who had cut him free of the net with great care. Eros was the dragon who had saved him who had brought him to the sweet, lovely, kind, Yuuri who fed him and cared for him. Now Eros was saving him again pulling him free from the hot waters and gently lowering him back into the much cooler waters of his pool. Viktor gave a whimper clutching weakly at Eros’s claws not wanting him to leave. Eros settled himself in the water curling his long tail around the with of the pool his limbs tucked half under him as he coiled around the siren, lounging much like a cat would, in the water. He lowered his head giving a soft but deep gentle croon that he remembered from his rescue. His eyes were a deep chocolate brown with cat eyed pupils.  His wings or at least one stretched out over the water while the other was tucked against his side. His body was long and sleek like many traditional Asian dragons but he had wings small but definitely wings with thin see through fin like membrane stretched along the ribbed frame. Probably had those from a distant ancestor who had wings but now they were more suited for gliding through water. He had horns on the back of his head thin but solid that pointed and curved slightly over the back of his neck. His face and head had a frill of fins and scales jutting around the back edges along his cheeks. His paws had webbing below the claws and upon closer inspection his crest was alot like a fin. This was a dragon made for the water. 

The trio of dragonlings looked much like smaller miniature versions of the adult minus the wings and smaller bodies that were chunkier. They had rounder fins too unlike his pointed ones. They scrambled over Eros’s back to get a better look at him make a series of noises amongst themselves. Eros turned his head and gave a puff of steam at them. Steam not smoke. Most Sea Dragons breathed boiling hot water not fire. Ingesting water and using their internal body heat to boil it and shoot it out of their mouths. Each dragonling gave a small shriek bobbing up and down along his back ducking away from the steam although the steam was not hot enough to hurt them. Tiny trendals of steam escaping their nostrils and snouts. They were too little to really breath steam and could only maybe shoot warm to mildly hot water. Eros appeared to be scolding the girls who settled down after a bit still watching with fascination as Viktor slowly recovered from his ordeal. Eros turned his attention back to the siren speaking to him in the way of Viktors species, mind to mind. “I apologise for their bad behavior they did not realize you were in their pool and let their curiosity get the best of them. They are young and full of energy and wonder about the world. You are the first of your kind they have seen and wanted a better look. Axel, Loop, Lutz tell him you’re sorry.” Eros spoke at first to him before turning back to the little ones. “We are sorry Merman-san.” The trio chorused clustering together to try and get closer to him without frightening him or getting warned back by Eros. Viktor nodded his head too stunned and confused to do anything else.His mind was a whirlpool of thoughts and feelings.“Eros...Are they yours?”  Viktor asks feeling the desperate need to know if this handsome dragon was mated or not. The girls let out a series of shrill whistles and gruff grunts that sounded like laughter to him. 

“Eros?!” Embarrassment, shock, amusement and a little bit of pleasure at the name he had been given by the siren showed in the dragons eyes.  Viktor blushed his tail swishing fidgeting. “It seems to suit you... so....” He trailed off unsure. Eros shook his head slightly as if to clear it nuzzling Viktor gently with his snout. “To answer your question no the girls are not mine they are the daughters of my childhood friend Yuuko.” Eros explains and as if summoned by the mention of her name a smaller female pearly white dragon with a pink and red crest landed outside the pool calling rather loudly for her children who all scrambled over to her splashing gleefully through the water. Viktor could just picture what they were telling their mother judging from the sounds they made and how they kept turning to look at him or point a claw at him. Yuuko seemed to sigh before shrinking in size changing into her human form. Her skin covered in patches of scales and her eyes still dragon like, her hands still had claws and while she was clothed her feet were bare. The girls followed their mothers lead turning into small human children with scales and claws. “I’m so sorry for what my girls did to you. They can be quite the clawfuls at times.“ Yuuko bows to him in apology. Eros climbed out of the water not bothering to shake himself off as he too reverted to human form. He looked alot like Yuuri but his skin was of course covered in scales and he had on a black and silver outfit. His hair was slicked back and he ran a clawed hand through it talking rapidly to Yuuko in another human language mixed with little noises that could only be made by a dragon. “I already had them apologize to him once but he needs to rest now and probably to eat. He has a fever and is weak so the girls can not go swimming in the pool right now. Maybe later on depending on how he heals.” “I’ll get you some fish too eat and some slave for your wounds Merman-san.” Yuuko bows again herding her children away yelling and scolding them for their actions as they cried and complained to her. “Viktor.”  He says softly repeating it in the human language they had spoken to him earlier in. “Viktor.” Eros repeats smiling fondly the name rolling off his tongue. “Viktor.”

[vepalsa]

Let’s talk madness...

 [Alright well by now everyone has either seen madness or has heard of it and wants to continue to scream despite the fact that we haven’t gotten all the manga scans out yet - or rather properly translate yet.

PLEASE be aware I am not doing this to be an asshole - I fucking ship Otayuri like its my life blood but I am also very realistic as I humanly can because I want to make sure anyone who DOESN’T ship my ship doesn’t come telling me “Oh you are just being bias because you love the ship!” like bitch please - calm your titties down first of all. Second sit down, both otayuri fan and anti alike.

 Shit about to get LONG AS FUCK - So undercut for now.

As you are all very well aware - Yuri life has never been EASY; despite the fact he is only fifteen he made a loaded progress in his life. He is a professional ice skater, has won the gold against the adult supervision AND is the number one source for his family income - which speaks volume on his maturity level; you can still act like a teen have the angry hiss fits but you are still be consider an adult. Maturity comes from in MANY forms.

So let’s talk for a second this panel -

 This entire panel describe both yuri frustration about the fact while he did win the gold at the end; he is left sour mood because of what he is force to do. Rather what the adults in his life make him do because they want to see him top. As someone who seen struggles of what comes with fame, when you start out in any sort of performance role you have to be absolutely prepare to make sacrifices; this includes following the roles you are not wanting to do. Yuri is very aware of this - he chose to be ice skater mostly for his love for the ice but he knew becoming deeper would leave him feeling some sort of desire in the long run but now that he can do what he wants without the fear of scores, and people taking the gold he wants to do something Incredible. For himself.

No one else.

  There is also the matter of other panels - I FEEL in my heart Yuri is frustrated with the way people are treating him, despite having won the GOLD, he is being treated as a child regardless. THIS IS WHERE OTABEK ALTIN COMES IN AND IS FUCKING SAINT. Image you been dying to become bro with someone for a long time - you become friends and then that bro comes to you after a while to tell you; “hey yo I am frustrated care to listen?” a normal reaction is to “yeah dude I am here bro.” right?

This is why I feel Otabek is GOOD for Yuri, they are not just friends, they are BEST friends at this point. A best friend is someone you are willing to call when shit goes down and they come to help, whenever they come to aid or listen the results are the same. Someone you could put your TRUST on who isn’t FAMILY. Otabek is that man who become part of Yuri life enough that Yuri is willing to EXPRESS his own frustrations with him. Yuri who has never show any side of that WILLINGLY on his own...

Let that sink in.

This is how VALUE Otabek is to him at this point-

Getting off track a bit - let’s go to the next.

 This panels are pretty self explanatory - Yuri asks for his best friend opinion; Otabek gives it. It is also a good thing to point out I feel OTABEK is frustrated with the way PEOPLE SEE Yuri. Otabek who has said that Yuri eyes are the eyes of a soldier, someone who seen and been through HELL - HE SEES Yuri as his equal; not a child. He sees Yuri as someone to be respected. All others? They don’t respect him.

This is why Otabek also offers to help and go beyond - because he knows that people treat Yuri like a CHILD when its clear he is not. However when the two are force to see what Viktor and Yuuri pull... Yuri is left frustrated once more; its one thing to make Music for your friend, to give thoughts and opinions on his clothes and program but another entirely to HELP him with it.

 Otabek shows that while yes he is willing to help Yuri get to where he needs to also knows he has to keep boundaries. HOWEVER because Yuri and Otabek are PERFORMERS its a different ball game - Remember the lick finger part? That’s an act, Yuri knows, otabek Knows, they don’t mean anything sexual; sure they stare into each other eyes while they do, but as someone who performs you cannot or suppose to break EYE contact. 

REMEMBER GUYS THEY ARE STILL ACTORS IN A WAY. 

THEY HAVE TO KEEP EYES GLUE INTO THEIR ROLES. This is why the entire performance while it looks very sexual, and I do agree that Yuri is very well aware of himself enough to feel comfortable showing his body, he still not in the turn to jump into Otabek bones (aw how sad!) He is fifteen - teenager boy with a crap ton of hormones, growing up with three brothers I know how frustrating it is because i actually often asked them about it, to satisfied my own curiosity and to learn for myself.

This does not mean that Yuri and Otabek cannot date ; if this happen in a period of a fucking WEEK; and Yuri is comfortable enough to share everything he has so far with him so easily, shop with his new friend, AND ASK HIM to improvise? What do you think THREE months would do to them? As one of my co-workers at work told me: Yuri is just very flamboyant, doesn’t mean he is gay YET.

BOTH ARE BOYS, boys have been welcome into a world where being gay is PERFECTLY FINE AND HEALTHY. This is the kind of level I want people to understand; Sure Yuri is 15 but he is going to outgrow that and it is clear Kubo took it into consideration because she says in the official book Yuri is 16 THEN. So for all we know this whole madness thing? WHAT If this is preparing US for the movie? What if the movie is suppose to be set a year from that? Where Viktor comes back? Yuri and Otabek relationship as bro would had grown since then.

IT HAS grown; its clear Kubo take it into consideration when she has OTABEK or YURI visit each other or visiting Japan. SHE has plans for the two to end up in some form or way; it is time we become clear and accept that when Yuri is hitting that age cap that Kubo might want for them; they could DATE. THE POTENTIAL IS EXTREMELY HIGH.

Be prepare to deal with it; stop bashing people who clearly enjoy the ship and see how Kubo is trying to set a dynamics for the two to develop more. 

With that I end my rant.

[harocat]

Opinion (if you still taking em) Chris resents Viktor slightly because YEARS of being second best really starts to fuck with your self esteem

strongly agree | agree | neutral | disagree | strongly disagree

Very slightly, probably. I think it’s only human that he would. Chris and Victor have a complicated relationship. Chris clearly likes Victor and considers him a friend, but he’s also very much his rival and this is made clear in the series. Chris CONSTANTLY has his eyes on Victor, to the point that he only looks forward and not behind. Chris says he can’t get motivated without Victor around, but that’s because he’s been solely focused on beating him for so long.

This proves to be his mistake in the series, as he himself realizes in the finale. He spent so much time chasing Victor that when Victor wasn’t there any longer, he forgot to think, oh, there are other people behind me that I need to watch out for, other people that might surpass Victor. And they did, and at least this time, he was left behind. 

Victor on the other hand, I don’t think really seeks out Chris’s friendship. He likes Chris, for sure, but he just doesn’t seek out friendship period (Victor is not very healthy in many ways bless his heart). Most of Chris and Victor’s relationship comes from Chris reaching out to Victor, and Victor being like yeah sure ok you’re a nice guy why not. But like, a friendship has to go two ways, so there’s a real limit on how close they can be when it’s like that. So yes Chris is probably the closest thing Victor has to be a best friend, but-- it’s still kind of an unbalanced friendship. 

I think that if anything his time with Yuuri will help open up Victor MORE toward friendship with other people (just as it has helped Yuuri), and once he’s in a healthier mindset, his friendship with Chris can become a much more genuine, two-way thing. 

[imagine-those-skaters]

What if yurio , phitchit and victor were texting there crush and there crush said something really cute or a really cute selfie and they just got completely flustered and just mt and don't respond so someone replys to there crush for them because they haven't sent anything back in like ten minutes and the person who responds basically just embarrasses them more by saying that they got really flustered (sorry if this doesn't make sense

Ah, it’s been such a hectic week what with it being the beginning of a new semester, but I’ve been feeling so down, and this is so cute, I really just have to do this. I’ll do my best, darling, I think I get the gist of it!

-’yuri!!! yuri, im @ the pet shelter atm and there’s this wonderful grouchy kitty that reminds me of u look look look’-You ruthless cutie you-Yurio already can’t handle you-He was just texting you during his break, with a small serene smile on his face-Just leanin against the railing of the rink, doing some leg exercises -The creases between his eyebrows are practically non-existent, you make him so happy-It’s the sweetest thing-But the minute you send that text, he stands up straight as if he’s been whipped across the back-Oh no-Yuri looks over his phone to see Mila, smiling sllyly down at him-”Who are you texting, Yuriii?” she croons-fuCK OFF I WAS HAVING A GOOD TIME, WITCH-he tries to ignore her, hunches his shoulders and is just about to message you back when you send a selfie-holy shit if you didn’t kill him before, then you damn well did now-There you were, a big delighted smile on your face, with the most crotchety looking cat on your lap, leaning against your hand that was petting it’s head-Yuri wheezes, this boi literally fuckin WHEEZES, and leans over, clutching his chest-he’s like the old man meme

-that one-Mila blinks, chuckling, before taking his phone in his weakened state to see what’s gotten him in such a ti--oh my god-Even she’s enraptured in the fucking ADORABLENESS that your selfie is-meanwhile you’re waiting eagerly for your boyfriend’s reply, which… is taking a while….-A half hour damn near passes before you get a text-”Hi, Y/N, this is Georgi. I must say your selfie is very sweet and cute. I can’t handle it, but you know, Yuri is the one who can’t handle it the most. He’s currently wailing with Mila over how adorable you are! Haha.”-fucker is the only one trying to keep his cool, bc honestly, he’s crying too-you lethal weapon-yuri later tells you he killed georgi for embarrassing him he didnt he just poured his coffee on his new scarf

-You’re always snapchatting Phichit about one thing or another-You don’t usually use your face, rather, you just take photos of the thing you’re doing at the time-But Phichit loves you and your cute face!!! He could kiss it all day!!!-Anywho, he’s out with Yuuri, and while his friend is looking through ice skating magazines, Phichit’s checking through his notifs-And he sees you’ve replied to his snap!!-He asks Yuuri if he wants to be in a selfie with him and of course Yuuri knowing Phichit, he didn’t have much a choice-So Phichit taps the notif, and goes to your chat-Opens your snap, la dee d--Oh-Ooooooooooohhhhhh myyyyy gooooo--He blinks, and screams when the counter goes out, this boy literally fucking SCREAMS, HE SCREECHES-It’s you, holding up a hamster cookie, with the biggest smile on your face, looking so proud-The caption read ‘Just cooked up a batch for u, look how good it looks?!’-Phichit is leaning against Yuuri, who’s also seen the snap-”Aaaw, how cute!” He says-Phichit grabs his friend by the shoulders-”Yuuri.” He says in the most grave tone Yuuri’s ever heard, “That wasn’t just “cute.” Let me tell you a thing or two over just how precious my s/o is.”-He literally goes on a goddamn tangent-And Yuuri thought HE was obsessed with Viktor, CHRIST, PHICHIT-It’s like he was saving this speech over how adorable you are for this specific moment-Yuuri’s listening to him, smiling and humoring him-Phichit replays the snap, screenshotting it before just waving it in front of Yuuri, looking so happy-But Yuuri’s tired now, a fucking HOUR passed, and you only have a notif that Phichit screenshot your pic-This boi fuckin snatches the phone from your boyfriend, and before he can react, texts-”Y/N, your cookies look gr8! This is Yuuri btw, sorry for the delay in reply, but Phichit went on a speech over how cute u are! Lol pls tell him to stop, ppl are staring.”

-Viktor’s always been passionate about how cute you are-He squishes your cheeks, kisses your nose, gives you eskimo-kisses, blows raspberries on your tummy, nuzzles you CONSTANTLY when he gets overwhelmed, he just adores you-Viktor Nikiforov is entirey infatuated you, it’s adorable in itself-So he’s just texting you, when he SHOULD be practicing with Yuri, because… th… that’s his goddamn job…. Viktor,…. you fuck…..-Yuri’s shouting at him and of course, this guy is clearly ignoring him, giggling to himself as he chats with you-’lolololol Y/N, when will u get here???? it’s nearly lunch time!!! i miss uuuu~’-’im on my way!!!! u should be practicing, geez’-Fuckin Viktor chuckles, and does a little footwork,then checks his phone OOOOH GREAT JOB HOTSHOT-He skids to a halt after that-Yuri’s cussing this guy out, “OI, YOU AIRHEAD, YAKOV SAID TO FOCUS ON YOUR AXELS, FUCK YOUR FOOTWORK”-Viktor speeds his way towards Yuri which autmoatically makes him regret speaking because now he’s gonna go off about you-Instead, much to Yuri’s surprise, he’s… actually kinda quiet-It’s weird-His eyes are wide, and practically glimmering-Viktor’s cheeks are normally at least a little rosy due to the chilly temperature, but now, they’re a bright jolly red color-One hand is covering his mouth, as if in shock, and now Yuri’s a little unnerved-”What the fuck do you want.” He grumbled, a little off-put-Viktor slowly holds up his phone to show Yuri a photo of you, posing in front of a poster of Viktor that was apparantly up nearby the ice rink-You have the back of your hand on your forehead dramatically, but you’ve got a clear mixture of pride, love and amusement on your face as you grin-Beneath that was a text, saying “Can’t believe my beautiful boyfriend is actually made out of paper…….”-Yuri blinks, and grunts-He’ll admit, it was pretty cute, but he didn’t really…. give a shit…..-He looks up and sees Viktor’s cheeks pulled up in a smile behind his hand-It takes at least an hour and a half when you get a response and it’s from Yuri-’hey this is yuri can u maybe pls take ur shitty boyfriend away so i can be at peace’-Thanks yuri

[yoiwritingsandsuch]

Thanks for reading, If there are mistakes fell free to yell at me! I didn’t have anyone to proof read for me.  IF anyone (really one person) wants more of this I would be happy to keep typing away.  Let me know! 

(What if Viktor managed to get yuuri’s phone number after the banquet)

Viktor dropped his luggage off in the doorway to his bedroom. He sighed and sunk down into the couch in the living room.  He wasn’t normally one for dramatic flare, well maybe he was. At this moment he couldn’t help it. This emotion that was coursing it way from the center of body, whatever it was, was making it impossible for him to think about doing anything else but closing all the blinds and staying put for at least a week.  

A week, that should be long enough to get over this.

He thought to himself and he shifted from his prone position on the couch to a sitting one.  If he had decided that he was going to mope around for a least 7 days then his back didn’t need to suffer for it.  

I never turned my phone on after the flight, maybe…

He stood up digging in the pockets of his coat he never took off since returning to the warmth of his apartment.  Viktor pressed the power button and set the device on the coffee table in front of him.  As he unwrapped a scarf from around his neck and started to unbutton the buttons he never took his eyes off the screen.  Even the four buttons that fastened the thick material together seemed like too much effort to put into anything at this moment.  But after what felt like way longer than he has ever waited for a phone to turn on before he heard the beautiful sound of text message notification after notification.  

Ding ding ding ding ding...

As his eye scanned the names accompanying them the sound stopped being hopeful and started to take on a more melancholy tone.  

He must have stood there for sometime waiting for a message to blink into existence by sheer will alone.  It didn’t appear, eyes looking at the screen till it dulled and the device timed out and the screen went black once again.  He shrugged out of his coat and tossed it to the side, he would worry about it later.  The couch creaked as he suddenly plunged back into it grip.  

Why would this bother me, it was just some guy.  Just another figure skater that looked up to him.  Just…

“Ahhh” Victor threw  his head back and looked up at the ceiling.  “He was everything…”

Another text message notification rang through the air and  Viktor thought about throwing his phone out of the window.  He tilted his head to the side and and opened one eye to peek at the name on the screen. “Yakov, I don’t have time for this.”  He mumbled under his breath before he looked back up at the ceiling closing his eye tight and draping an arm over them.  Trying to block out the light that was still managing to make it’s way though was a bad idea.  The moment he thought he had successfully cleared his head memories of the banquet started to flow back in.  

Dark hair messed up from dancing all night. Eyes the color hot chocolate during the first snowfall, not lacking any of the warm.  A smile that not only spread across his face and lighted his eyes, but seemed to have the ability to sweep across the room and melt anyone lucky enough to catch a glimpse of it.  The music seemed to fade away and as much viktor focused on the song that they had danced to he couldn’t even remember that there was any playing.  The laugh that echoes through his mind when he started to write his number on the man’s arm.  It took four tries cause according to his brown eyed beauty ‘it tickled’.

Ding

“Damn” he pulled his arm away from it relaxed position over his eyes and let it fall to the side. His eyes blinked open and he didn't even look at who was texting him as he grabbed his phone and stood up.  He shot off about four text messages not caring about the tone of any of them.  He was taking a few days before training for the next competition.  Yakov would be mad, but he hasn't been scared his coach since...ever.  There is nothing that Yakov would make him do as ‘punishment’ that he hasn't done while training normally.

That night while he forced himself to follow somewhat of his normal ‘after competition’ routine.  It took him about twice the time as normal to shower and make dinner for himself.  Makkachin followed him around from one task to another.  It was almost like he knew what viktor was feeling before he was able to admit it to himself.  After hours of sticking by his owners side he conceded and went to lay on his bed in the corner of the living space.  “Sorry boy” Victor sighed

He looked of at a clock hanging on the opposite wall.  It had been a long day, well a long couple of days since…

No! Stop thinking about it!

He would just go to sleep, he would feel better in the morning.  

hopefully

As he walked through the doorway leading to a very comfortable looking bed he caught the corner of the suitcase he had set there earlier with his right foot.  “Ouch” he hopped on one foot as the the sharp pain shot through his foot. Finally making it to the bed he sat down on it to rub the leftover pain away from his big toe.  

Usually he would have unpacked the suitcase already but the dull pain in his chest stopped him.  Everytime he got close to the damn thing he felt the pain grow and start to make its way up to his throat.  Just looking at it now brought up images from a few days ago.

How could I have never noticed him before.  Was this really the first time I have seen his face?

He laid back on the bed.

Was it going to be the last?

Though he doesn't remember how long it took staring up at the ceiling but he drifted off to sleep.  He did clearly remember the face that haunted his dreams that night.  

--

The next few day followed the same as the day before.  The same irate messages for his coach about how irresponsible he was being.  A few more from his rink mates asking about how long he was planning on sulking around. Two from his junior, yuri, complaining about how annoying viktor was being.  The second popped up on the third day of him locking himself in.

Is this about the stupid japanese pig?

It was the first of the text messages that he actually wanted to reply to.  Of course Yuri would remember him; he is way to young to drink and lost a dance off to him that night.  Pissing off Yuri Plisetsky was an offense that burnt anyone into the teens memory for at least 5 years.  But texting the blonde skater about his broken heart, if that was what this pain was, seemed like a bad choice.  

Ding

He isn’t even that good X(

Victor doesn’t even remember watching the skating this year.  For the past few years he has never had to worry about someone getting close to his scores.  Then the thought of not even looking up the full name of the man whose face had been replaying in his head shocked himself.  Viktor was about to screach the information about the grand prix this year when another text alert popped up on his phone screen.

This is stupid! Link

Viktor wasted no time and clicked on the link that yuri had sent him.  It was the video Katsuki Yuuri’s short program from this years grand prix.  His breath caught in his chest.  It was him, the same eyes and dark hair.  Yet something was missing; the smile, the confidence maybe.  He wasn’t able to place what it was but there was one thing he could tell.  

He was a mess.  His footwork was magical, but it could save him.

His jumps, every single one was shaky at best.  It was like his mind wasn't communicating with his legs like they should.  For a second he was confused, “He made it to the grand prix, he must have been having a bad day.”  he commented out loud as Makkachin climbed up next to him.  Scratching the spot behind the pups ears he looked to see if there was a video of his short program from one of the qualifiers.  He found one easily and situated himself on the couch so that makkachin was on his lap and able to see the screen.  “Yuri just sent the worst one, everyone has bad days.”  the pup barked like he was agreeing with what Viktor had said.

Once the video started he was unable to look away.  His heart started to ache again but it wasn’t bad.  It felt warm, maybe a little uncomfortable but it was a pleasant pain.  

The video was over to soon but without hesitation he clicked on another.  Then when that was done another.  By the time the sun had given way to the moon he had become more knowledgeable on the skating style of Yuuri than he was on any of his rink mates.  He doesn’t know when he started to take notes, but he was already a few pages in. He rewinded certain jumps to check when exactly each one had gone wrong.  It was silly, he was one of Japan’s top figure skaters, he probably already knew this.  

But he did ask you…

Viktor shook the thought out of his head.  He wasn’t a coach he wouldn’t even know where to start.  Plus there was a chance that wasn’t even what he was saying.  Yuuri had been drinking quite a bit that night and his words were switching from japanese to english most of the time.  

He did win the dance off

An exaggerated sigh escaped his lips and he closed the notebook he had scribbled into.  The phone still played a video he had watched about 4 times at that point.  

He had to get back to the ice, he had Russian Nationals and the European Championship.  He didn’t have time to let this consume him.  

--

The next few months went by in a blur.  The world championship was a week away and Viktor wasn’t even slightly worried about his streak being lost.  He tossed a brown suitcase on his bed and unzipped it.  He had bought a new one, yes.  Is that a little over the top, most likely.  But he didn't’ want to open the other one.  He had accepted the loss of the clothes trapped inside and moved on.  

It’s fine, he’ll be at worlds.  You can get your answer.  

It was the mantra that he had been repeating to himself.  He has forced himself to not look at any of the news on the other skater.  

But how could he not make it.

He almost reached for his phone but stopped himself and continued packing.  It was hard to not check up on everything that his dream man was doing but he was trying to save himself.  Save himself from the rejection that had been murmuring in the back of his mind for a while now.  He was almost done packing when he remembered a piece of clothing that he always regretted leaving in the suitcase in the corner of the room.  It was his red and white russian team jacket.  He knew that it wasn’t a good luck charm, he had own gold twice since it was packed away.  He still wanted it.  

He turned towards the suitcase pointedly.  

This is getting to be too much, it’s clothes.

He picked up the black leather suitcase and set it on the bed next to his new one.  The zipper seemed to be harder to move than he remembered.  He paused for a few moments after the case was fully unzipped.  He thought about just zipping it back up to place it back in it’s corner.  But with a deep breath he lifted the lid.  Most of the stuff he had left in here had already been replaced.  His jacket was on the very top and he took it out and shook it.  He was going to need to get it to a dry cleaner quickly so he would get it back in time.  He set it down by the side of the case.  He decided he might as well get all of this stuff professionally cleaned while he was at it.  Next he took out his suit he wore to the banquet that year.  It was horribly wrinkled and was going to need a lot of love to look like it used to.  He did take much care on when he packed up his suitcase from that competition.  So he took out the jacket and the pants, shook them out as best he could, and laid them on top of the jacket.  Then the glint of gold caught his eye.  There, right where he had packed it hours after winning it. He pulled out the gold medal and sat down on the bed closing his eyes tight.  Every once in awhile the memories of that night flooded into his mind with the threat that they were going to take over.  Each time he clearly remember writing his number on his arm.  He had to see it.  He wrote it quite large.  

He just doesn’t want you.

He stood up and raised the medal above his head like he was going to throw it at the adjacent wall.  He paused when he noticed what looked like a folded up napkin on the floor.  Someone had wrote on it with a black marker.  He lowered the medal and tossed it haphazardly towards the bed.  The more he focused the napkin the clearer the writing became.  It was a jumble of numbers written in shaky hand.  It took him one second reach out and grab the napkin from the ground.  

Where did you come from?

He turns it around in his hand a few times.  There was some sort of word or picture drawn on the…

No

He looks at the writing closer.  He has seen this type of writing before.  It was japanese, it was messy but it had to be.  He tripped as over his feet and he scrambled to his cell phone sitting on the bedside table.  He programed the number into his contracts and started to pace around the room.  It had to be his number.

What should I say.  What if he was waiting for me to text him all this time.  Shit, he probably hates me.  

He had thought of every possible reason why Yuuri never contacted him.  He could have wrote his number wrong on his arm, it could have smudged off, or maybe he didn't want to call him.  The latter had been the bane of existance months now.  

He started to type out a question about if he was going to worlds then erased it with a sigh.  Maybe it wasn’t Yuuri’s number.  He has met Japanese fans before and one could of slipped this in a pocket.  It might have even fell out of the suitcase he took to the european championship.  It could've been Chris playing some cruel joke to far.  He wouldn’t put it past his friend to slip the note into his suitcase to mess with him and his obsession.  

I found this number

He hovered a finger over the back button.  His heart was beating so fast he could barely hear anything else.  

It is four words, not a marriage proposal Nikiforov!

He pressed send and let out a breath that he was holding.  It was done, he couldn’t back down now.  He set his phone down on the side table.  

Just finish packing

While glancing at the phone every few seconds, he did manage to.  

-- He was about to board the plane but he took his phone out of his pocket to check again.  It had been two days, guess his fear was right.  Yurri must not want to talk to him.  Yakov was going on and on about something about going straight to sleep and jetlag.  “You are not even listen to me are you?”  

He was trying not to but he was being so loud.  He flashed his coach a smile “Got it.”  before pressing his phone’s home button and watching as the screen lit up.  

There is was, the message he had been waiting for.

He made me wait for two days, he must of really been mad.  

He opened the message with a smile growing on his face.  

Sorry but I don’t believe I gave my number out to anyone.  Seems like there was a mistake, take care.  

The smile faltered “Really”.  Okay either the handwriting was worse than he believed and he got the number wrong or Yuuri was even more angry than he originally thought.  First he should figure out if this is even the man in question.  A smirk graced his lips as he typed.  

This is the game we are playing…

Sorry for the confusion but did you happen to be and the grand prix this year?

He felt a hand on his shoulder as his coach steered him towards the line of people loading the airplane.  

--

He could barely wait till the plane landed and he pulled out his cell phone.  Yakov yelled him something at him but it was going past his head.  He would have to apologize later and listen to his rant then, right now he was preoccupied with turning on his cell phone.  In a moment the screen lit up and message loaded in.  

I was, not really a memory I would like to re-live

It was like someone had shoved a dagger through his heart.  It had to be Yuuri, no one else was close enough to put a napkin with their number in his pocket.  Why would he do this to him.  Viktor typed in a quick response.  

Really?  :(

He was pulled from his seat by his coach.  He knows that he was moving, smiling when he needed to, and answering questions quickly when forced but he wasn’t focused like he normally is.

He waited for the text back way later into the night than he should have.  He knew he was in full sulking mode, he didn’t mind.  He sat still, eye locked in some cruel staring contest with his darken phone screen, in his dark hotel room.  

Ding

The light almost hurt his eyes as he looked at the words that lit up on the screen.  

Um yeah. Who is this?

He started to type his name in, but it dawned on him.  Maybe the only reason he was talking to him was because Yuuri had no idea who he was talking to.  He deleted the letters he typed into the phone.  He was texting him, the man with those chocolate eyes.  Was he willing to give that up, even if he had to lie a little?  He thought for a few seconds about giving him Chris’ name, not many people can deny that force of charisma.  No, he types in the truth.  

I guess it doesn’t matter.

It took a while for Yuuri to ever reply so he left his phone on the desk he had been sitting at and walked into the bathroom to wash up before getting some sleep. Hopefully Yuuri answered him.  The thought that at any moment he could just decide to never talk to him again it was almost like someone had twisted the dagger that was still placed into his heart.  

Ding

Viktor froze in the doorway to the bathroom.  There was a chance that it was yakov telling him about his practice schedule here, but there was also a chance that it wasn’t.

Ding

Another notification ringing into the room was enough for victor to drop the change of clothes he was holding and almost run back to the device on the table.  He smiled when the screen lit up with 2 messages from yuuri.  

You do matter

I mean, who you are matters… I that sounded weird

Viktor let out a small laugh.  Yuuri was hands down the most adorable thing he had ever had the pleasure to text.  Speaking of, he wasted no time typing out a reply.  He had way of getting this mysterious man to keep talking to him.  Hopefully he would play along.  

Let’s see if I can help you remember ;)

I didn’t just wish on a shooting star and get your number, you gave it to me

~the end~

(for now)