#will forever hold onto the idea that victor is a very caring and sweet big brother

[pixelmuppet]

And Her Name Was Beatrice

My first fic! Again bc tumblr ate it the first time >:(

Tw: for using dead names n pronouns.

---

Victor walked the halls of his father's home, the chill of winter settling deep into the house. Even with clothed feet the floor sent shock waves of cold up his body. The snow had come earlier this evening, fat flakes resting on the window sill and piling against the pane. Victor rubbed his hands together, rounding a corner to his room. He walked past his youngest brother's room before he stopped abruptly, his head snapping to the door as he heard a small sob. It was soft and nearly silent he had almost missed it. He hurriedly made his way to the mahogany frame, his hand curling to tap his knuckles onto the wood.

"Willam?" He whispered, ear to the door as his eyes danced around searching for a sound. A hitch in the youngest breathing was heard before another sob broke the silence. Taken aback by the sudden reaction, Victor turned the knob and opened the door rushing to his brother's side. "Willam, what troubles you?" He asked, panicked slightly.

Wiping their eyes the younger looked at him, "Do not call me that." They said firmly, but still broken from crying. Victor stared at them, then nodded as he sat himself onto the bed. "Very well, what should I call you then?" He asked patiently. They looked away, "I'm not sure yet, just not Willam." They hissed as though the name was poison on the tongue. He nodded, "Alright then, now please, there must be more that troubles you then just a name.." he urged, lifting their chin so they could look at him. They sniffled as they stared at their big brother, "I feel as though my titles as brother and son do not fit me.." they admitted, more tears welling into their eyes. The lit candle on the side table making them glow, illuminating the sorrow in those pale blue eyes.

"Shh, it's ok," Victor soothed, wiping them away, "Tell me.." "I feel as though I was not meant to be Willam, I'm still me but he was not me.." They said, "I must sound insane if I want to become a sister instead.." "No, no my dear, no." Victor hugged them, "Never, these are normal, I too, had these feelings at one time. For I was not always your brother." They stared at him, "You lie.." they mumbled not believing a word. "No it's true, I used to be a daughter and a sister but as you had said. Those titles and that name were not me. I am Victor and I'm your big brother and if you so wish to become my sister then so be it." He said confidently. They stared at him, "Really?.." She asked. "Really." He nodded holding their hand.

The sister's eyes landed to the bedside table, a book resting there. "Beatrice." She said softly, "I want you to call me Beatrice."

"Beatrice." Victor echoed, a smile forming on his face, "That's a beautiful name." His smile grew wider at the way she grinned, her knees knocking together in her giddy happiness. "Thank you Victor." She said hugging her brother, her thin arms wrapped around his neck. "Of course Beatrice." He hugged her back before kissing her forehead, "Now, try to get some sleep. You don't want to wake up during midday and miss playing in the snow with Adam do you?" "Of course not," She grinned snuggling under the thick comforter, "I wouldn't miss it for the world." He smiled down at her, "Good night Beatrice, I love you." "Good night Victor, I love you too." she yawned as he tucked her in, picking a stuffed toy from off the floor and under the comforter with her. He gave her one last head pat and left the room with the click of the door. She listened to his fading footsteps before sitting up and taking the book from earlier off it's resting place and flipping to the marked page to continue reading.

[ilguna]

Metanoia - Chapter Five (f.o)

Summary: you will be crowned victor of the 75th hunger games.

Word Count; 4k

Warnings; swearing

NOTES: i give reader a last name to fit the world.

–

It’s really funny how they set a uniform to wear for the private session with the gamemakers. They haven’t really done that before, and you know that because of your years of mentoring. They don’t have a set outfit that they want the tributes to wear. Sure, they have guidelines, but nothing this strict.

It’s a tracksuit jacket that goes up to your throat. You zip it up all the way, squinting at yourself in the mirror, because this wouldn’t have been your first choice for a uniform. You don’t look too terribly bad, it’s just the fact that you’ve never worn something so… hideous.

Despite this all, you pull your hair out of your face again, it’s even messier than it has been the past three days for training. Progressively, you’ve begun to care less about what you look like. You’ve been zeroing in on as many skills as you can gather like a hoarder. You spent the first day just training, and the last two days learning the useful stuff. The shit they don’t teach in the academy.

It was a good couple of days, even if you were forced to make conversation with the hogs of the stations. The good news is that Cecelia is much more tolerable than Woof. Woof is incompetent, the man will die in the bloodbath. He doesn’t move fast, he doesn’t think straight, and he’ll be a target for you.

You weren’t expecting very much out of him in the first place. He goes right onto the list of the other imcompetent competitors. The list has tripled past your expectations. These games are going to be a walk in the park.

Brutus is already waiting in the main room when you get out there. He’s got an orange in his hand, already peeled. He looks up when you enter, and without a word, stands and heads for the door. This afternoon, Neysa and Edmond will be nowhere in sight. You haven’t seen Theo in days, but that’s no matter.

Neysa and Edmond will be consulting with the stylist to make sure that the interview outfits are matching. Amias is already working with whoever is working with Brutus, but it’s for more understanding. Neysa knows what you would like to wear, and Edmond will have an idea for what Brutus would like.

Brutus holds out a single orange slice.

You prick it from his fingers popping it in your mouth. When you bite down, the juice explodes in your mouth. It’s sweet, a little tangy. You don’t pride yourself with oranges, since they’re such a rare thing to come across in District Two. You guys might be rich and a favorite, but it doesn’t mean you get everything that you desire.

The elevator brings you down to the same floor you’ve been for the past three days. The ride is short, the doors open, you guys step out and head towards the room where you’ll be waiting to be called in. This shouldn’t take very long. After everyone gets inside the room, it’s only three people before it’s your turn.

Walking in, there’s only a couple of people here already. A few of which you’ve actually talked to, during your time of rotation in the training room. Cashmere and Gloss already sit by the wall up front, so you allow Brutus to go in first, since you’ll be sitting on the end of the row.

There’s three rows of four to fit all twenty-four of you in here. The way that things are laid out in here kinda make sense, but you wish that they had allowed District Two to be up against the wall. You’d rather be leaning against the cold concrete while your body is beginning to heat up.

You’re not mad, you’re not embarrassed, this is something that doesn’t belong to you again. It could very well be nerves, again. Since it basically feels the exact same as it did last time…

Maybe the jacket is too much, because there is no reason why you should be feeling like it’s ninety degrees because you’re anxious. You unzip it, and then slip out of the jacket. The second that it’s done though, there’s a whistle behind you.

Gloss turns to look to see who it is, but it doesn’t take a genius to know who’s going to keep harassing you. It’s Finnick, and he’s probably just come in here with Mags. You haven’t turned around since you got inside, mainly because you don’t care who comes in or out. You just want the room to be full already so this show can get started.

“Welcome to the gun show.”

“I really can’t wait until I can knock your fucking teeth out.” you roll your eyes, even if he can’t see it.

Finnick laughs, “I’m not that bad.”

“You are that bad.” you say, “I still don’t know what your goal is.”

“I thought we could be friends.”

“You thought wrong, my friends are sitting right here.”

Brutus snickers but doesn’t say anything, you can practically hear him ask, ‘we’re friends?’

If he’s thinking that, then so are Cashmere and Gloss, but they’re clearly smart enough not to say anything about it. At least they have some intuition that’s telling them that you don’t want to be talking to Finnick. And the best way to escape a conversation is to set grounds, even if they are lies.

“Who says you have to stop there?” Finnick asks.

“For fuck’s sake, just leave me alone.”

If Finnick has anything else to say, he gives it up. The silence is instant, and you welcome it in with open arms. Besides from the occasional ‘whoosh’ of the automatic doors, or the whispers of tributes talking to each other, the room is quiet. 

In no time, the room is full of all the tributes, and Gloss is being called in for his evaluation. As the clock ticks, you can feel yourself grow more anxious. It’s like a bottomless pit in your stomach, or as if you’ve been told that you’re being broken up with. It’s more of a grief feeling.

It’s awful, you don’t like it.

You look down at your wrist, reading over the words again. You run your thumb over them as if they’ll wipe off easily. Of course, they don’t budge even in the slightest. The whole idea of soulmates is crazy.

It’s a dumb concept. Who says that you have to end up with them, anyway? There’s plenty of people that you know, that never followed the rules because they didn’t care. There’s also the fact that you never know if that person is actually alive. It’s not like they fade after the person dies. They’re still as brand new as the day you got them.

You always thought that you’d be able to just overcome it, but with your repelling personality, no dice. That’s fine, you don’t like anyone, anyway. You’ll be content enough to live out the rest of your life in District Two, with two kids--Tanith and Zavian. One who won’t leave you alone, and the other won’t bother to visit.

You won’t be alone forever, you have them, and the occasional person who’s ballsy enough to visit you in your big, old, grand house. And if you can find a single animal you could get as a pet, you’d consider having them around, too. Turn your whole house into a zoo, like the old man that used to live next door, back when you weren’t a victor.

His house was overflowing with animals. Dogs, cats, he had two horses, a cow and a mule in his backyard. In his house were the chickens, goats and pigs. His house was covered in hay and smelt like piss and shit because he never cleaned it. He was too old and too stupid to be running something like that. However, you think he got taken down two years after your win. You went to visit your old house for a few things that you’d remembered that you wanted to move in and the house was just… gone. Like a controlled fire had taken it out.

You can’t say that you feel bad for him, he’s the entire reason why the street smelled so bad. In an upper-class neighborhood like yours, you’re surprised the neighbors hadn’t taken him out any earlier. He’s also the reason why you never opened the windows or doors for more than ten minutes… and why you never went in the backyard, either.

Brutus’ name is called. You fist-bump him, “Good luck.”

“Thanks.” he says.

Cashmere passes him on the way in, she gives you a dainty smile, and then continues her walk out of the room. It’s Brutus, and then it’s you.

“Is The (Y/n) Rosecelli nervous?” Finnick asks.

“I’m not.”

“You’re bouncing your leg like you’re trying to get it to fall off.” 

You hadn’t even realized it. You stop immediately, leaning into your hands as you rub your face, “I’m not nervous, someone else is.”

“Someone else?” 

You look over your shoulder at Finnick, “As much as playing stupid looks on you, don’t start now.”

Finnick is quiet, and then he sputters out a laugh, “You have a soulmate?”

“Everyone does. Mine just happens to be emotional, which is a total drag.” you hiss, “I don’t need to be feeling like this right now.”

The urge to bounce your leg again is like an itch, and you can’t help but to give in.

“I heard taking deep breaths are a fantastic way to calm yourself down.”

You ignore Finnick, it’s not your emotion. You’re confident. You’re excited. You’re enthusiastic. You’re calm. You have nothing to be worried about. You’re going to do great.

You can feel it all start to cease.

You’re an amazing fighter. You’re going to get great scores. You know what you want to do. You’re going to win. You’re the best one here.

One deep breath in, slowly letting it out, it’s like the anxiety wasn’t even there in the first place. Your leg stops, you cross them to ensure it, and continue repeating things to yourself. A much needed ego boost to keep your hands from shaking and your mind from collapsing.

Whoever your soulmate is, you’re beginning to hate them. They’re fucking up basically everything. It’s embarrassing, and you’re never embarrassed.

“Wow--”

“Zip it.” you snap, eyes focused on the door.

“District Two, (Y/n) Rosecelli. Report for individual assessment.” the voice over the intercom says.

You uncross your legs, throwing your jacket over your arm as you stand. You move out of the aisle and head towards the door. On the way in, you see Brutus with a grin on his face.

“Good luck.”

“Thanks.” you say.

You pull the jacket on now, zipping it up to your throat, because the room is air conditioned. With no one being in here, it makes the room colder. There’s no body heat to be worrying about. Even with the jacket on, you can still feel the cold air through it. 

You stand in front of the gamemakers, looking up at them. Plutarch Heavensbee--the new head gamemaker after the last one was killed. Word travels between mentors and victors like disease. Obviously it had to do something with the berries that Katniss and tried to eat. The fact that they were inside the arena in the first place was heinous enough. But to use it against the gamemakers, and Crane allowing it to happen…

“You have ten minutes to present your chosen skill.” Plutarch says.

You give a quick nod, wandering over to the nearest hologram station. You got to play around with it on the first day, and realized that going up to the hardest mode wasn’t even hard. It was medium. You broke a sweat after doing it for the third time in a row, and the gamemakers have definitely seen you mess with it before.

They have to assess you over a period of days, not just one. The private session is designed to show off anything that you wouldn’t want the other tributes knowing.

Which is exactly why you skip over all the regular throwing stations, and head right into the bow and arrow one. They have their own tv holograms that they’ll be able to watch you from. 

It’s not a skill you necessarily like. It helps with distance fighting, but since bow and arrows have been associated with Katniss, you’ve basically faded this into nothing. However, you pick up the bow, playing around with the strings to test the tightness. A quiver of arrows is pulled over your shoulder after.

You program the game easily, but before you step in, you turn around and fire an arrow just to see how awful the bow is. It’s not too bad, it’s actually fairly similar to the one they have at the academies. These ones are just tighter because they’re brand new.

You go inside after that. The holograms start off fairly easy. Now that you’re inside, you can see why it was so easy for Katniss to know where they’d be coming from before they were generated. The way that the orange beams move is a clear giveaway.

It takes one arrow for each person, always the center of the chest. If they’re moving, then you make an exception for the head, since it’s the next best thing to wipe someone out immediately.

You can feel yourself go into concentration mode. The beam moves, you spin around. You release the arrow at first chance, nailing the hologram. You grab another arrow, the beam moves, you spin around, release the arrow, get the hologram. Over and over until it’s finally done.

You wish you had some sort of watch so you could know when your time is up, but you decide that this is enough. You place the bow back where it came from, as well as the quiver, which has three arrows left. The arrows inside of the station will be cleaned up by some poor avox, it’s not your job.

You step right in front of the gamemakers again, waiting for them to dismiss you. When they do, you thank them, and then leave the room. You can hear them call in Beetee next, and you pass him on your way out too. Just before you also leave the little waiting room, Finnick and you make eye contact.

And on his face is a half-smile, half-smirk.

--

You plop down on the couch, leaning back against the cushions. Caesar Flickerman introduces the name of the game: tribute training scores. The entire couch is full. From right--where you’re sitter--to left, it sits Amias, Neysa, Edmond, Brutus and Brutus’ stylist. On the adjacent chair sits Theo.

He won’t look in your direction, it’s humorous.

Caesar starts it almost immediately, beginning with boys. Gloss lands himself an eleven, and Cashmere gets herself a ten, which makes you wonder how badly she messed up during her session. She’s supposed to be a career, not some average moron. Anyone with basic capabilities can get a ten.

Next is Brutus, he gets a nice eleven, which makes you all cheer for him in excitement. You want to hold your breath for your own, but you realize that’s not a reaction you would have. So, instead you give a big smile and lean back, crossing your arms. Confidence will get you out of this.

“District Two, (Y/n) Rosecelli with a score of eleven.” He gives a big smile, and you give a look to Brutus.

“And that is how it’s done!”

Brutus laughs, the two of you lean over for high-fives before going back to watching Caesar. Beetee and Wiress get boringly sad and average scores, but there’s not much to expect from them either. They didn’t do anything that would be entertaining over those three days. They get sevens.

The smile fades from your face once Finnick comes up. Your face straightens out and you lean forward. Brutus notices this, “Interested?”

“I gotta know how easy he’ll be to kill.”

“District Four, Finnick Odair with a score of eleven.” Caesar says, “And District Four, Mags Flannagan with a score of six.”

Finnick’s score is no surprise, but you are a little worried over Mag’s. She could have at least gotten a seven considering she did just about the same that Beetee and Wiress did. You suppose it makes sense in a way, though. She’s not going to be a good fighter, and they have to consider that too.

At least you and Finnick are on the same playing field, but he’ll be torn between protecting himself and Mags. You don’t really want to be the one to kill her, but another matching pair of District Four skulls on your arm is just too tempting.

You bring your arm over, looking at it as Caesar announces the next scores. You’ve got quite a collection. You didn’t kill any of District One’s tributes, but you did kill your district mate because it had come down to you two. If you want to keep traditions, Brutus would have to go on too. You wonder if he knows that part of your history.

It skips over District Three, but you got both from four. None from five or six, but you got the doubles on seven, the guy from eight and the girl from ten--oh, and the girl from twelve that had ran into the cornucopia like a dumbass. The total comes out to eight, which really is quite a lot.

Except that year a ton of people had ran into the cornucopia, more than usual. The girls from ten and twelve, and the boy from four had run in. As for the other five, that same day you took out the boy from eight. Your allies had taken out others, since they wanted at least something they could take credit for. 

Four on the first day, and the other four in the span of a week. You were the one with the most kills, you were showered with gifts. No one really stood a chance, not even your district mate. You kept track of the tributes throughout the entire game by carving lines into your arm. The second that the twenty-second guy was dead, you turned on your mate immediately.

It was too quick, it had taken the gamemakers by surprise. The way you turned, grabbed his head with one hand and used your sai’ to stab right through. He crumpled to the ground like a sack of flour, and you stood in the middle of that field, waiting for your crowning.

An entire minute of silence, which made you doubt that you were the winner. You had to count the cuts on your arms to double-check. You had done it each time after you’d heard a cannon, it should be accurate. And while you waited for them to announce your win, after you were sure it was yours, you made that final line.

Obviously they had wanted some fight, looking back on it. The final two should have been easy entertainment, and even sentimental, considering you guys were both from District Two. But there was no hesitation, you were already exhausted from fighting the last guy, and you just wanted it to be over with.

The reason behind why you’d chosen to wipe out the District Four tributes is funny, in some sick way. Of course, your games were right after Finnick’s, and you absolutely hated the way he won. Using his nets to drag people into the water and then uses his trident on them.

It’s the entire reason why you spared nothing for either of the four tributes. You didn’t even fuck with them a little bit like your allies had wanted. You killed them, and you made sure that the cannon had gone off before you’d even bothered to move on. You were so paranoid that they would try something like Finnick had done, again.

As much as people don’t want to admit it, you pay attention to things. Your brain is always turning. You’re keeping track of things, remembering plans and techniques. If you come up across anyone inside of the games, then you’ll know how to act. What they favor more in fights and all that. Not to mention, people like the morphlings and where they like to hide in the trees, what they’re looking for specifically.

It’s a whole ‘nother reason why you’re a perfect candidate. You’re prepared.

Anyway, districts five and six both get that same average score as three. Johanna Mason lands herself a nice ten, and her district mate Blight gets a nine. Not surprising for Johanna, but it is for Blight. Normally guys get higher training scores--and that’s not a sexist thing either.

It’s how your first games went. You had gotten a nine, and it must have been something you’d done during your training days. Unlike other districts, the careers aren’t really told to keep from showing off their skills. In fact, you’re encouraged to. It’s an intimidation tactic to weasel out the weaklings.

And you’re typically ordered to pick your favorites that look like good allies, and after private training day--which is then when you’re able to see the score--you send a formal request for them to be in the alliance. It’s a whole thing, more trouble than it’s actually worth, and it doesn’t happen very often because of it.

District eight through eleven get mainly average scores, there’s a few who stand out more than the others. And then it hits District Twelve.

“District Twelve--” Caesar’s face twists unexpectedly, “--Peeta Mellark, with a score of twelve.”

“What?” you nearly yell, pushing yourself up into a better seating position, “How?”

“That’s--”

“District Twelve, Katniss Everdeen with a score of twelve.”

“That’s impossible.” the blood must have drained from your face, and there’s a faint feeling that overcomes you, “No, no--no!”

No one has ever hit twelve. Twelve is the highest and one is the lowest. People have gotten close to twelve, clearly. You’ve got an eleven and a few others do too, but twelve…

“What did Katniss say to our alliance invitation?” Brutus asks, “Neysa!”

Neysa looks worried too, “Uh--Haymitch told me that she said no, or that she was at least thinking about it.”

You allowed Brutus to send in that request after watching Katniss shoot those arrows, but it was only Brutus that was asking. You weren’t included in it. Had Katniss said yes, she would have been dragged into the alliance altogether, whether you like it or not, you would have had to make friends.

And there’s a very good reason as to why she probably said no. It’s the alliance thing with Finnick, isn’t it?

You pucker your lips, “Neysa I need a moment with you.”

She looks over at you, Caesar Flickerman has long since been forgotten. She nods a little bit, everyone else in the living room looks confused as to why you couldn’t have just said it in front of them too.

You bring Neysa as far as you can manage without making it suspicious. Even then, you’re dropping your voice to a whisper, and turning your back to the living room so Brutus won’t be able to read your lips.

“What is it?”

“Tell the District Four mentors that I want to be allies with Finnick,” you say before you can catch yourself and change your mind, “And I don’t mean for him to join us, I mean for me to join them.”

“Them?” Neysa looks suspicious.

Shit, “Finnick and Mags. What else would I have meant?”

It was a smooth recovery, enough to get her off your back.

“You’d just leave everyone like that?” Neysa doesn’t like this, you can hear it in her tone of voice, “It’s just as much of a dumb idea as running solo is--”

“I just want to see what he says, I don’t have my mind set in stone.” You give her a look, “Neysa, come on.”

“Fine, but you will tell me your plan if it works out like you’re envisioning.”

“I wouldn’t dream of leaving you out of the loop.” You tell her.

“Is there anyone else?” she asks.

You think for a moment on who would be dumb enough to accept but smart enough to do it too. A light bulb then goes off, “Peeta Mellark.”

[ltmsstuff]

New Year’s Date Continuation

Fandom: MLQC / Victor Word count: 788 Summary: Spoiler alert! My new favorite Victor date is the New Year’s date and I kept imagining what could come next!

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Victor woke up from resting. His mind was fuzzy, his vision blurry. He soon realized that he was in his father's house. He wanted to get up from the sofa but something moved on his shoulder. Better to say, someone.

"Am I still dreaming?" he asked himself as he looked at the small figure. MC's sleeping figure brought him incredible joy. The girl who dares to stand her ground against him. Someone, who cares for him deeply but still, he can't tell her everything he wants to. 

He always talked himself down on the idea of telling her everything. How much he appreciates her ideas and hard work, how much it means to him to share his cooking with someone. How much he loves her. The girl's posture shifted, her mouth was slightly open. Her cheeks were still a little bit red, but Victor knew it was just from the excitement of the night. "She can't spend the night here," he thought, however, the guest room was upstairs. Disturbing such a calm silhouette would ruin the magic. Victor hesitated a bit, but after a minute he carefully lifted her petite figure. She automatically reached around his neck, murmuring in her sleep. Her head was in the crook of his neck and his heart started to race. He wanted to stop time so badly. To live in this moment forever. With her. But the incoherent babbling brought him back to reality. "Don't leave..." she whispered in her sleep. "Never," he said with a smile. The girl hugged him tighter as if something could ever tear them apart. They finally got to the room, although opening the door was a real challenge. The bedroom was tranquil, the elegant colors and shapes made it look very comfortable. He delicately put her down on the king-sized bed, she sunk into the silk bedsheet. "That's enough for today," he thought, wanting to get up and go to his room, but the girl didn't let him. Half-awake, half asleep she hanged onto him, not wanting to let go. He looked out of the window. It was still snowing, the light beautifully sparkled on the landscape. He turned his attention to her and saw the same thing. Beauty. "Although I thought we have time, I want you so badly," he whispered to her. "Although I wanted to kiss you while you were awake...I..." he stopped himself. "I always speak from my heart" his speech echoed in his head. "I wish I was as brave as you. Even though you may get embarrassed, you dare to speak your mind." The girl's mouth curled up, but she still appeared to be sleeping. He looked at her delicate features, thinking how lucky he is. Her scent is intoxicating, he didn't want to leave now. " I don't care anymore, I love you," he said as he brushed his lips against hers. Her lips tasted like sweets, and her heartbeat got faster. Nothing could explain how this sweet moment felt for Victor. When they parted, MC's eyes were open. Victor immediately started to apologize "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have...I am an.." "Idiot?" she asked sheepishly. "No, that's you" he deflected not thinking about what he is saying. "Well for me it seems like you fell for this dummy you know" she looked him in his eyes, telling everything she wanted with one look. "I heard everything you said just now," she continued. His face went paler, panicking what she will say. He couldn't always act as the relaxed and cold CEO. He had emotions that were buried underneath. "And?" he finally managed to ask the question. "And...I am awake now. You can fulfill your promise." She has never seen Victor smile like that before. But at that moment his joy was beyond expression. He kissed her slowly holding her face carefully. Her hands traveled up his neck, holding onto his hair. He didn't stop the time, but it seemed like every particle froze around them. The only thing that mattered was the other half. When they were out of breath they parted yet again. "You should sleep now...It's early," Victor said after stopping himself. He wanted more... But not now. "But I don't want to..." came the answer. The silly and stubborn girl defied him just as always. "Please, I'm tired too," asked Victor, trying to hold back a big yawn. "I promise this wasn't the last time." "Okay, but don't leave me," she said. "Never." They lied down in the bed together. Slowly they both drifted off to sleep. "Victor?" whispered MC. "Hmm?" "I love you too," she said gently. Although he didn't answer, he held her closer to himself as they fell asleep on New Year's Eve.

[namelesswolffreak]

Victuuri Prince AU

"Yuuri!? Yuuuuuri!~ My love!" Giggles echoed through the gardens and the white haired prince egarly followed them. He smiled and quickened his pace knowing well of his betrothed's laughter. A sweet symphony mixed in honey and sugar that could sooth even the most temperamental of furies. The sound always brought a smile to his face, a swelling feeling in his heart and a light blush to his cheeks. And he loved the way Yuuri's eyes would sparkle, even in the dark they could light up a room and when he smiled? Oh, Victor couldn't even begin to start with the thoughts that raced through his mind at his lovely's smiles. The crown prince loved that sound and that sparkle so much he made it a point to commit them both to memory and never forget even the tiniest of details. He promised to never ever to forget them anytime soon. His black boots clacked along the brick road in his parents garden and the bright mirth in his eyes as he heard the laughter grow stronger never left him. "Yuuri, my dear!!! I'm almost there!" He called. The giggling grew quiet and low. The once high and bubbly spirit of the atmosphere turned sour and foreboding. The prince's steps grew slower and more strategical as he approached with caution to the other end of the huge garden. He beard the unmistakable sound of splashing water and the low hum of a song as he rounded the high hedge keeping him from seeing his fiance. On approaching he took hold of it and peered around the corner and in his great relief Yuuri wasn't dead or at least about to be. The black haired Japanese was relaxing underneath the huge waterfall of the hot spring his parents had invested in a year or two ago when he stubbornly and forcefully"asked" his Mother and Father to give him a place to relax after his fencing classes. He hadn't meant to one: Sound like a spoiled brat and as disrespectful as he had been and two: Get a place so big it ran for almost miles, but it got him what he needed and he guessed that was alright. (Though next time he promised he'd slap himself if he was ever that rude to his elders again, especially the currently ruling King and Queen who were his parents of all people.) He was glad to see the normally empty waste of space be put to use by someone other than him and Chris for once. Victor happily skipped over once he tore his shaking hand away from the ball point of his scabbard where his sword laid sheathed and took in the view before him. The lovely, gorgeous and quite frankly alluring scene, according to Victor. His fiance soaked bare chested in the steam of the hot spring with his black hair casually brushed back and chocolate brown eyes covered by the soft skin on his arm as he lilted back into the stream of water coursing down his sculpted chest. Victor drank in the sight pleasantly and couldn't help the adoring stare and sinful sigh he gave the relaxed beauty. "Vitenka, are you here yet? I've been waiting forever! Prince's shouldn't keep their fiances waiting, it's considered rude in my home lands!" He giggled childishly at the mock reprimand Yuuri gave and began slipping off small amounts of clothes and fabric. He gladly tore off his shoes, tossing them off to the side along with his socks, over vest, jewelry and other princely things that most commoners saw him in daily, slipping them off would be considered unruly and even barbaric in public, but Victor thought under this circumstance it was alright. His tight briefs were the only piece of clothing to remain on besides the casual white undershirt that normally accompanied the other layers he wore underneath his pink suit. He slowly slid over the rocky edge of the spring, dipping only his feet into the warmth and his eyes were immediately drawn back to his soon to be as he watched him gracefully glide through the water to greet him. Yuuri's muscles flexed and stretched as he pushed through the water making Victor subconsciously lick his lips at the display of power and strength. "Yuuri, my love." He giggled, taking Yuuri's chin in one hand and pecking his lips. "Why the sudden meeting? I was in the middle of teaching my classes." The latter blushed and repeated the action, looking downwards afterwards. "I'm sorry, Vitya, but I had to call you now." A suspicion rose within Victors chest as he observed the obvious show of embarrassment on his lovers face. "But if you were busy it can wai-" "N-no! Whatever ails you, my Prince?" "Ummm......I....." He heard Yuuri mumble something before the ravenette turned back to him with pleading clear in his eyes. "I was wondering if you'd like to spend the day with me.....umm...in the hot springs.....alone?" A bright flush crossed his features as he noticed Yuuri's complete lack of clothing. He wasn't even wearing any undergarments to cover his hips. Oh... Victor flushed harder and smirked. "Yuuri~" He purred. "Is there something you want to tell me?" His mirth grew as he caught both his fiancé's hands in his and pulled his body out of the water with all his strength. Yuuri now sat kneeled over the others lap, legs spread wide, cock visibly hard and flushed between his thick thighs and the biggest blush mankind has ever witnessed adorning his cheeks. Yuuri didn't think it could grow any bigger, but he was instantly proved wrong when he was pulled close to the prince's chest in a loving hug and Victors breath hit his ears hard as he whispered. "I'd be very upset if that present wasn't for me. You wouldn't do that to your poor, innocent Vitenka now would you? Shamelessly getting hard over another man other than me? Ha, ha, ha. How sinful, my Yuratchka~" The rumble of Victors chest sent a chilling thrill down his spine like an electric spark had struck his heart and jumpstarted it. He liked this feeling very much and would be perfectly willing to die over never having it leave him again. He felt his tongue smooth over his chapped lips and inched closer in hopes of letting Victor in on the amazing feeling as well. "Vitya, now why would I ever do that when I have the hottest prince in all the land all to myself and no one can ever take him away from me?"He felt the man shiver and he smirked. His plan proved successful. "Oh how sexy can you be, my love? You've already seduced me, now you're just inflating my ego." He yelped when he felt something hot and slimy climb up his ear and a loud hum invade it afterwards. "Yuuri, you have no idea what you do to me. You shouldn't do this to me when I'm like this." Victor shivered even more when he purposely pulled Yuuri back by his hair to look into his brown eyes that had turned into the size of dinner plates. They sparkled with want and anticipation or was that need....perhaps anxiety. He absolutely loved it regardless of its definition and couldn't hold back the sloppy, but nonetheless romantic kiss. "V-Vitya!" "You're so adorable, love. Let me have you?" He thumbed delicately over Yuuri's lips, his own emotion showing true in his iris as the latter lost the ability to breath, suffocating under his lovers touch and wishing desperately for Victor to relieve the burning ache that had settled itself South of his thumping heart. His wish was granted as he screwed his eyes shut and let the ecstasy take his mind and body whole as he felt ice cold hands slide up the base of cock and cup his already dripping head. Yuuri's breathing quickened, his heartbeat uncontrollable and mind sent whirling as his fiance stroked, prodded and pulled, all gently, but firm actions of love causing him to writher and squirm in his hold. "V-Victor! Ah-huh-ooo!~" He gasped. "Yuuri you look so beautiful like this." He cooed and quickened his pace feeling Yuuri swell in his hand, beginning to get uncomfortable I his own pants the more he watched the wrecked face of this sexy Japanese. It made his heart swell again to know he, Victor Nikiforov and only him could make Yuuri this wasted in such a short amount of time. He was the only one who could make Yuuri bend before him like a commoner on the streets, he was the only one who knew Yuuri's weakest spots to make him moan the loudest and sweetest sounds, he was the only person Yuuri shared his love with and no one and no thing could change these facts. He was the only man capable of taming Yuuri's Eros and that's all that mattered to him. Yuuri could feel the pressure between his legs blowing up the faster Victor stroked his base and groaned along with him. Soon, close to his pre-destined orgasm he felt the Russian princes saliva slick lips collide with his and gingerly suck his tongue with fervor. "V-Vitya! I-I'm gonna come, if you do-" The weird sensation of both warmth and cold was enough to bring Yuuri over the edge. Hot, red and white flashes blurred his vision as Victors strides lessened and his cum soaked hand was being deliciously licked clean. Yuuri watched excitedly, white strings of semen bursting from his clit onto both his and Victor's chests and what didn't slid down Yuuri's angered thighs. His fiance looked absolutely gorgeous just lapping up his mess, but then again Victor looked gorgeous doing anything. He could be shoveling manure and Yuuri would still find him the most attractive prince in the world.....ok well maybe not really, but he loved Victor nonetheless. Yuuri's high quickly evaporated and reality was once again a reoccurring thing in his mind. He was ready to just snuggle happily in his companions arms, but leaning in closer and resting a hand close to his thigh a heated blush jumped to attention on his face and he immediately retracted his wandering hand. How had he been so selfish at that moment. "Oh....Vitya, do you want me to take care of that? You deserve some release too. Its the least I can do, you've been working so hard and your schedule has been nothing short of hectic! Let me-" "No, no Yuuri its fine. I'll be alright, no need to fret. I can always handle it later." He winked and the latter blushed, sinking back into the hot bath, starting to shiver from the cold breeze. "Alright, Vitenka, but you have to promise tonight that you indulge yourself! You're overworking yourself again and you know it hurts my heart when you won't let yourself take a break. One of these days you're going to hurt yourself and I wont be around to help you." He stabbed a finger into Victors chest, angry, but an obvious, loving undertone let the Russian smile with reassurance Yuuri really did care for his wellbeing. "Alright, until tonight my Love." "Until Sunrise shall you feel the power of my love for you." He only giggled and held the warm body close to him not caring about getting wet or the uncomfortable squish sounds erupting between them. Victors heart swelled once more as Yuuri reciprocated the hug. "I love you~" "I love you too, Vitya."

[innocencenoble]

Me/Calico x Remy x Logan x Victor

Logan wakes up slow - he no longer startles at the warmth of the three other bodies in his bed. Their bed, he corrects. He doesn’t remember the last time he went to bed without them, nor does he ever want to again. He’d rather enjoy this for as long as he can, before he eventually - inevitably - screws this up. But, for now, Innocence in his arms Remy spooning her and facing him and he’s being spooned by Victor. Innocence’s back is pressed to Remy’s chest, and she’s using his left bicep as a pillow. He notices that during the night the fingers of her slim right hand tangled with his larger ones and her left hand was resting on her stomach Remy’s hand laced with her’s. Victor’s right arm was slung over his waist, hand settling on top of the one Logan’s clutching to his chest. Innocence and Vic follow him awake, Innocence’s breathing starts to speed up to match his while Victor just kind of softly grunts. Innocence squeezes his and Victor’s tangled fingers, and suddenly his view changes, he’s no longer looking at her sprawled black dreads. Innocence turns her face back towards them, opening her eyelids with some effort for they’re still heavy with slumber. They can see her as she’s see them. Logan knows he’s not making much sense, but he doesn’t care, because suddenly she’s kissing him and Victor peppering surprising soft kisses on his shoulder. He startles, less than he did when this first began mind you, because Innocence usually gives herself to him,Victor,and Remy in a way that they don’t dare question lest it go away. She’s kissing him and he’s not doing a very good job of kissing back, he’s a little busy trying to memorize her face and register Victor’s sweetness in this moment. Innocence pulls away her eyes are fluttering, impossible eyelashes casting shadows on her hazel cheek. He needs to remember this, because he knows it won’t last forever - it can't last forever. Just as soon as he closes his eyes and starts to kiss Victor, she turns to face the now awake Remy, and not a minute later she swings her leg over his hip, straddling him. Her hands run over his ribs, sliding up towards his chest and shoulders, only to end up in his hair. Remy goes to move his hands from where they’re settled behind her knees, he needs her closer. He pulls her closer and wraps his arm around her shoulder pulling her down, closer to his chest. Logan flips himself at the same time Victor sits up and straddles his beast’s hips, Victor wraps his arms around his waist and crushes him to his chest. Logan huffs approvingly, hands moving to the back of Victor’s neck. Too soon they all stop kissing and Innocence him to speaks. “We should go get Axel” she sighs into Remy’s neck. “Let the kid sleep in for once” Victor says, but he does so only to spend a few more minutes in their little bubble. “Tell you what” she starts, leaning over Remy to kiss his and Logan’s foreheads before pulling back and resting her forehead onto the now sitting up Remy’s after after he does the same to the other two males in the bed, “I’ll make it worth your while” she breathes Remy in for a second before sitting up. He’s not complaining though, because when she sits she’s directly on top of him. Remy wonders for a bit if she knows what she’s doing. She’s a great strategist, her ability to analyze their surroundings in battle never ceases to amazing, but, this is the same girl who had no idea how torturous it was to just exist around her those first few weeks. “And how are you going to do that?” Logan puffs out his chest, leaning his arms back, hands under his head. “I have a plan” she says grabbing Remy’s arms and pulling him to a seated position before rocking slightly to the right and grabbing Victor’s hand and tugging, causing him and Logan to change positions. Logan by Remy’s side and Victor behind the thief. Innocence is taller than Remy like this, looking over him for a change. Everyone changes positions again, Remy crawling over to Logan resting his head in the man’s lap,arms looping around his waist while Logan lightly traces his face with the tips of his fingers. “Matin, Mauvais chat.” Remy mumbles, nuzzling into Logan’s stomach more. “Morning, Cajun.” Logan softly replies, running his hand threw Remy’s hair and kissing his forehead. Innocence shuffles to Victor and drops into his lab, snuggling against him, her head resting on Vic’s chest, she can faintly feel what sound like the beginning of a purr rumble from his chest as his hands circle around her hips. “Good Morning, Vicky” she sighs out happily. Victor splays his big callused hand on her cheeks and rubs his thumb over her brow bone as he slowly brings her face up so that she’s facing him eyes closed as she growls, her cheek nuzzling his hand, “Mornin, Lamb. Grrrrrrrraaaw” Innocence smiles softly and bumps her nose against his purring more as her tail flicks softly in Victor’s lap, she does this all with such reverence it makes him want to crawl under her skin and never leave. She opens her eyes and puts her forehead against his and looks into his eyes, intense amber meeting a soft dark coffee. Innocence touches his mouth, thumb teasing his lower lip, face one inch away from his. She moves forward infinitesimally, but draws back at the last second. Victor growls lightly and finds himself chasing her lips, heart beating fast in his chest. She smiles a wicked smile and holds him back with a few fingers on his chin and her left hand pushing his right shoulder back. He’s staring now, eyes glued to cherry lips that he desperately needs to taste. “Please” Victor thinks, but when she chuckles he thinks he may have said it aloud. Then he doesn’t care because she’s licking into his mouth. The two stay there a few minutes, basking in each other. He remembers she’s kept her part of the deal, and non of them would ever want to risk future mutually beneficial eh arrangements. Victor swings his legs over the edge of the bed and stands up, putting Innocence down, she then walks to the door slowly waiting for the three to catch up. Victor bends over the bed and kisses Logan passionately for some moments before they pulled apart. “Mornin,Kitten” Logan narrowed his eyes slightly at Victor for using the pet name they both knew he secretly liked. “Morning to you too Bub” leaning down to kiss Remy on the forehead. “Mornin, Rem” Remy snorts lightly and then murmurs “Matin Boule peluche un meurtre” into Vic’s chest. Victor then picks the half awake man up and walks towards Innocence with Logan behind him. She’s standing by the door waiting for them. She hums a “Morning Remy” to the mutant and Remy leans up in Victor’s hold and gives a whisper of a kiss to Innocence, “Matin Mastic chat.” He sleepily purrs onto her lips before snuggling back against Victor. Victor and Remy exit and Logan comes up to Innocence kissing her before lifting her up and shifting her to his back, as he walked out the door following Victor and Remy on their way to Axel’s room. He wonders, for what has to be the hundredth time, how long he gets to keep them.

FRENCH Matin=Morning Mauvais chat=Bad kitty Boule peluche un meurtre=Fluffy ball a murder Mastic chat=Putty cat According to google translate