#yuri scans german

[milfygerard]

found the manga magazine cover that gerard was holding in this picture. It went by both MangasZene and MangaZone It looks like a majority senin/josei fan magazine, with some focus on shojou and and shonen. According to the translated wiki page (below), It also was one of the earlier european manga/anime magazines to focus more generally on japanese youth culture outside of manga or animation, including fashion music and video games. It also had a strong fan driven bend, as a few of the covers and centerfolds seem to be fanart, and the mag had fan letters, fanfiction, and dojinshi involved as sections in the comics (more info under the cut)

Common inclusions mentioned are clamp (xxxholic and chobits both appeared on covers either by name or in the cover art) ghost in the shell, a manga I dont know called the geisha (or "die geisha" in german), and Nana amongst others. Gerard almost definitely bought this because it had a cool goth girl with a fuckass bob and huge boots on the front curled up next to an androgynous probably-vapire-maybe-dude character with VAMPIRE in all caps printed directly next to them. I know his ass can't read german.

I haven't been able to find any scans of the inside or any articles outside of the front cover centerfolds and occasionally the fist page of ads. This post is also just a quick and cursory few google searches, so maybe I'll find more info if I keep digging.

Here you can find the original german language wikipedia article which discusses mangasZene (rough google translate english translation below the cut, but I can't confirm its complete accuracy as i know zero german)

Here are high quality cover scans for seemingly every issue on an auction site called lastdodo

If you want to send me money so I can bid on and buy a copy of the german language japanese culture magazine that gerard way read once in 2005 so I can do a youtube video reading and discussing it donate to my buy me a coffee

MangasZene was a German-language specialist magazine for anime (Japanese animation) and manga (Japanese comics), which appeared regularly from 2001 to 2006 and was discontinued after another special issue in autumn 2007.

MangasZene was founded by former editorial staff of the anime and manga magazine AnimaniA. The first two issues from January 2001 and March 2001 were still published as MangaZone before the title had to be changed for naming reasons.[1] When it was founded, MangasZene was the first German-language magazine that went beyond concentrating on Japanese comics and cartoons and also shed light on Japanese youth culture as a whole. In addition to anime and manga reviews, it offered reports on games and Japanese music and lifestyle. In addition, the reader should be given the opportunity to contribute and help shape the magazine through discussion corners, letters to the editor, fan gallery, dōjinshi and fanfiction corner and the opportunity to write guest contributions.

At the end of 2006, the publication of the magazine, which had been published every two months, was abandoned in favor of the plan to publish special issues limited to a specific topic at irregular intervals, each with an adjusted size, price and circulation. However, this was only realized with a special issue about Yuri and Yaoi in September 2007. In October 2007, insolvency proceedings were opened at the district court in Cologne against the publisher Erbschläger & Holzer. According to a statement from the editor-in-chief, further publications by the MangasZene in printed form are no longer planned.[2]

Other editorial activities The MangasZene editorial team has also organized the “Bonenkai” anime convention several times (2001 in Karlsruhe, 2002 in Leverkusen, 2004 and 2006 in Neustadt an der Weinstrasse). At the end of 2002, the DVD label Anime House was launched. Since this label no longer belonged to the Erbstosser & Holzer publishing house, it was not affected by the insolvency proceedings. Sources Burkhard Ihme (ed.): Comic! Yearbook 2008. Comic Interest Group ICOM, 2008, ISBN 978-3-88834-938-6, foreword (comic-i.com – quote: “A circulation of at least 15,000 copies is reached by the MANGASZENE, but only appears regularly with themed issues."). Statement of the editor-in-chief on the bankruptcy proceedings on December 9, 2007 in the MangasZene forum

[juliafernandez]

Thanks to @psychoberry10 for being so sweet and showing interest in this WIP I was very unsure of. Here's a snippet I thought I'd share.

Yuriy scans the creased piece of paper in his hand. Eyes narrowly squinting over the encoded message in illegible letters. At that moment, an acute click-clacking sound hit his ears. It was coming through the hallway. He strained his ears in concentration, thrusting himself into an in-depth analysis of the sound. It kept growing sharper, eventually causing him to build a mental picture of a female wearing stilettos. He warily slipped the paper into his suit jacket and soon enough, felt a shadow crept up behind him. He whirled around in utmost irritation, half drawing his twin revolver from his hip pocket but his arms stopped midway as he became conscious of the sharp narrow-pointed weapon that was levelled at his neck. His gaze instantly shifted to the person who held it. She was a young woman, not very far from her late teen years. Her teal sapphires, in a sharp contrast to her pale complexion, glimmered in the dark. Something of perpetual violence persisted in those energizing eyes. She donned a form-fitting white dress with red straps accentuating her curves. The front of her dress was mid thigh while the back of it reached below her knees. Dark blue fingerless gloves and thigh-high boots were a part of that attire. Her gold headband was fashioned into the form of hares on either side with two spiked antlers attached to them. It secured her silky smooth hair reaching just below her ears which was an attractive shade between lilac and lavender. Uneven air bangs emerged from under her headband that covered her forehead ending just between her top lashes and eyebrows. Locks of hair fell over her cheeks from both sides, moving much as softly in the wind, back and forth, revealing and hiding the blaze in her eyes. Her earlobes were adorned with a pair of studded gold earrings in the shape of spiky wings. "May I have the honor of taking your life, Agent волк?” she asked grinning, breaking the silence in a sickening sweet voice with a pleasant touch of German accent. As it gradually dawned upon him- a jerk shoot through his nerves. His features still composed but jaw clenched hard enough for the muscles to tick- she was the German assassin prowling in Moscow and she knew the codename he acted under. As he attempted to whip out his gun, she took a step towards him, faster than he could comprehend, lifting his chin with the tip of her arrow. "Don't. Bother. Trying." she whispered sternly, looking at him with a piercing gaze. Impassivity made it difficult to determine his state of mind. He was still and peaceful, as it all seemed. But she wasn’t fooled. His eyes were frantic, fists tightly clenched around the revolver- he was evidently distressed and she took whole hell of a lot pleasure at his discomfort. "Drop the blade" he said in a stolid tone, refusing to back up, ''I don't have anything against you." "Why don't you drop the attitude first, Yuri?" she suggested, tilting her head in the slightest. His fake aliases had somehow narrowed the field of her inquiry immensely, even as far as to guess his real name. He observed the smirk that played across her lips. That smirk of her brought out a sense of mischief, radiating her face with pure malevolent glee. Somehow, it made her look tantalizingly gorgeous. She'd definitely be the top smirker if there was a world leader board. His train of thoughts was abruptly disrupted by a startling realization that made his body freeze-eyebrows lift in surprise. If she had been expecting to confound him, she had certainly succeeded. All traces of his actual identity was erased before he joined the Moscow Intelligence Bureau. In a way completely unknown to him, she'd figured out his real name. This was undoubtedly one of the biggest blows to befall his career as a spy.

[windandwater]

back from Finland and my nightmare flight situation got really fucking funny (and awful) at the end so I’m gonna tell you the whole goddamn thing. cut to save you from Airline Stories.

I mentioned in a previous post that I had to sprint through Heathrow to get to a flight, and it wasn’t my fault. that turned out to be just the beginning but here’s what happened.

airline randomly decided to change my flight to an earlier time

I found out about this from a 3 am text that I read at 8 am on my way to work

cool I have to leave work much earlier

I do that. it was about to rain in New York so it was a good goddamn thing. no subway delays at all.

I sit at the gate for a bit. an hour before boarding, there are still zero airline employees to be found

what the fuck.

I google my flight number. it is not at the gate I’m sitting at.

great.

I walk over to the new gate, the lady there explains “it got changed.”

fine. I’m still on time.

….

the flight is not.

the rain started while I was in the airport and New York is gridlocked, and they barely had enough flight attendants to take off

I check my flight information. I have a connection in Heathrow that’s an hour after my flight and my flight is delayed…you guessed it. an hour.

I’m definitely gonna miss my connecting flight

I accept this (I am on a lot of anxiety medication) to deal with when I get there (thank you, medication!) and go to sleep (so. much. medication.)

arrive in Heathrow

announcement on the plane says that the connecting flight to Helsinki is also delayed, and to see them up front if you are getting on that flight

so I talk to them

“they’re leaving at 8:20 (it is now 7:50), so you can make it but you have to BOOK”

me: “GOT IT.” *takes off*

*accidentally knocks off a baby’s blanket. does not stop, like an asshole. yells EXCUSE ME to every British person in the way, while elbowing them, I’m from fucking New York, MOVE*

“few people runnin' about” happens

gotta go through security first

lady at the desk spins her computer monitor to show me what it says when she scans my boarding pass: “please proceed directly to gate 9”

me: “TRUST ME I FUCKING KNOW”

someone in front of me for some reason has every glass bottle in the world, doesn’t speak enough English for the security people to explain that it’s fine so long as there’s  no food or liquid in them

somehow I get through and make it to the gate

“if you had been 10 minutes later you would’ve caught us, but you’re good!”

phew.

find out later that my family had a similar yet worse experience in Frankfurt. ha.

turns out that was only the fucking beginning. because I still had to come back. here’s how that went.

day 1:

I’m supposed to fly out Saturday at 3 pm. my brother is flying out Saturday at 7 am. Friday night, we are on our way to the BnB and I double check my email.

surprise! my flight has changed. now at 7 am.

ughhhhhhhhhh

fine. I’ll just go to the airport with my brother.

we do that. Air BnB host nice enough to wake up and drive us—for a price, but a pretty good one.

they had a sauna and I had to skip out on using it (I only got to do it once) and I was pretty upset. fuck you, airline.

get to the airport at the asscrack of dawn

I check my email in the car one more time

….

wait a second

the date on this is for Sunday

fuuuuuuuuuuck

screw it, I’ll wait around until their service desk opens and have them put me on a flight

1 hour: nothing

I try and call them. on a janky phone that has issues with phone calls

customer service is closed, because Europe

call the US number

customer service is open and in English but it rings a few times and then I get a message in Icelandic and it hangs up.

….I’m never flying a Scandinavian-based airline ever a-fucking-gain.

2 hours: nothing

fuck. this.

I start googling hotels by the airport instead. check into one. get a shuttle there. room itself isn’t too expensive, but not money I really have.

oh fucking well

I pass out.

wake up, have to leave the hotel to get lunch, come back and read Yuri on Ice fanfic

oh daaamn this hotel has a sauna

tight

get smoked reindeer pasta at the hotel restaurant

go to sauna again

go back the fuck to sleep

day 2:

airport shuttle at the asscrack of dawn but this time I’ve slept all day

feeling annoyed but optimistic. this will suck but at least I’m rested.

get to the airport

once again they have changed the airline on me. this was not self-evident in the email

haul my ass to the right terminal. thank fuck there are only 2.

that last sentence is foreshadowing

in line for getting my ticket (b/c of course I can’t check in at a kiosk) and two people in front of me are going through the same shit. airline answered their phone calls tho and promised them money back

feeling more hopeful

am now flying through Amsterdam. they can’t print my connecting flight boarding pass. I will have to get it printed at the airport when I get there.

there is only an hour between the flights

I am hit with a sudden premonition of doom

but am still hopped up on anxiety medication

here we go again!

make it to Amsterdam with no drama

phone battery is dying. my external battery stopped working abruptly and there’s no charger on the smaller planes. it wouldn’t charge at the gate; was plugged in but draining. I turn it off. charges 2%.

more foreshadowing

I get off the plane and have to ask where to go to get to the correct airline. someone directs me. it’s a different terminal. I run-walk over there, knowing what’s about to happen.

passport control. spend 5 minutes panicking that I don’t have an e-passport b/c I don’t know where to look for the logo. turns out it’s on the front cover! I’m a dumbass.

get there. can’t check in/print off boarding pass

oh boy

have to wait in line for a service rep

this wait takes 35 minutes

I get to the front. my seat reservation somehow does not exist

she manages to print off my ticket. and call them to tell them I’m coming.

looks me in the eye: “you run.”

me: “I run.”

I do that.

new gate is 2 more terminals away

Amsterdam is fucking big and I have now run across 3 terminals of it.

the Dutch are better at moving out of the way than the English

I make it to the gate and people are there yelling “New York? New York!!” make it on the plane. phone won’t charge. ...... great.

no podcasts for me! I watch a Stonewall documentary, a gay rom com, and a slew of nature documentaries.

at least I’m on brand.

make it to New York in one piece. meet a nice German lady and everything.

it was hell coming back here from Greece but from Scandinavia it’s fucking amazing.

anyway

slight panic after going through passport control. I handed them my receipt, promptly forgot I did that, then got my baggage and began looking for my receipt to show to the next set of cops.

receipt was gone

ummmmmm

I empty out my entire bag

nothing

I ask the lady next to me if they kept the receipt

she says yes they did and I nearly collapse. guess there’s no next set of cops this time around. it’s different every fucking time.

she sympathizes. we have a nice chat. she has family in Helsinki and just got back from Greece and Italy.

Scandinavians are not friendly. FUCK I missed New York.

because some people will assume otherwise if i don’t say so: it was not a white lady. I really really missed New York.

I manage to make it to my subway stop with no more drama than wondering why I’m the only person on the train

I realized literally this morning that it’s almost a holiday weekend. oops.

make it to my apartment door

they installed a new front door while I was in another fucking country

(there were issues with the old one)

sign on the door says go see the super. who never answers his door, only the phone.

my phone battery is now at 10%

….

super’s not answering his phone. or the door.

7%

text and call neighbors who live near me. leave messages. try not to panic.

feel raindrops

look up

there’s a storm cloud coming in

I hear thunder

this is the point where I started laughing

I try the super’s other number

“uhhh you changed the door”
 “you were sleeping!”
 “I was in FINLAND!” 
“okay, give me a minute, I’m on my way”

5%

turn phone off

super appears. I am not soaking wet and laughing hysterically. yet. if he’d been any later it would’ve been another story

make it inside. plug in phone. it’s at 3%

answer all my family’s frantic texts, order food delivery, take a shower, go the fuck to sleep, and sleep 14 hours. felt fucking great.

go to work today because it’s 4th of July and if I don’t I’ll only be in for two days. oh well!

[sciencespies]

What would actually happen if we discovered a message from an alien planet?

https://sciencespies.com/space/what-would-actually-happen-if-we-discovered-a-message-from-an-alien-planet/

What would actually happen if we discovered a message from an alien planet?

It all seems so simple in the movies. An astronomer – often a maverick – is sitting alone in a radio telescope’s control room when a strange signal comes across the speakers. Somehow, the astronomer knows instantly that it’s from another world and, a few computer clicks later, the message is decoded and the plot begins to unfold.

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But how easy would it be to understand what an extraterrestrial civilisation is saying to us in real life? With a renewed interest in the search for extraterrestrial intelligence (SETI) sweeping across the world, that’s the question increasingly being discussed by linguists and other scientists.

“I’m optimistic. I’m quite certain that there’s no point in sending a signal that you don’t want to be understood. So it’ll be understandable,” says Sheri Wells-Jensen, associate professor of linguistics at Bowling Green State University, Ohio, and a board member of the Messaging Extraterrestrial Intelligence (METI) organisation.

Read more about aliens:

However, that doesn’t mean it’ll be easy to understand. Without direct access to the beings who wrote the message, it could take years, decades or centuries for us to decode the message. Or we may never decode it all. And here’s where things truly take a turn. Based on some researchers’ thinking, it may be that never decoding the signal is the best, safest option because we’ll have no way of knowing what such a message contains.

It’s easy to assume that a message would be benign, perhaps supplying us with information to shortcut centuries of scientific investigation, but some experts now think that the message might have a darker – even dangerous – intention. If so, is our quest to answer the question of are we alone, a case of being careful what we wish for?

More like this

When did we first think aliens existed?

The idea of other life in the Universe stretches back to antiquity. But according to David Dunér, a professor in the history of science and ideas at Lund University, Sweden, it became more realistic to consider the possibility in the 16th and 17th Centuries. This was the time of the Copernican revolution, when Earth was realised to be a planet circling the Sun, and the Sun was accepted to be just another star. This meant that all the other stars in the Universe had the potential to have planets around them as well.

During the 18th and 19th Centuries, scientists began to think of ways we might communicate with extraterrestrials. Thinking that the Moon could be inhabited, German mathematician Carl Friedrich Gauss suggested cutting down large swathes of the Siberian forest to display geometrical shapes. To be certain the signal was not misinterpreted as a natural phenomenon, he suggested that the forest be cut into a geometrical representation of the Pythagorean theorem.

It was in 1960 that American astronomer Frank Drake launched SETI as it exists today. He used the Green Bank Radio Observatory’s 26-metre dish to scan for alien radio signals from the nearby stars Tau Ceti and Epsilon Eridani. He didn’t receive anything that stood up to scrutiny, but it established the idea of using radio telescopes to search for extraterrestrial radio signals.

Frank Drake, the founder of the Search for Extraterrestrial Intelligence © Getty Images

Why are we searching for alien life now?

While interest in the endeavour has waxed and waned over the years, currently things are looking up. “There’s a resurgence in SETI at the moment,” says Prof Michael Garrett, director of the Jodrell Bank Centre for Astrophysics and the current chair of the International Academy of Astronautics (IAA) SETI Permanent Committee.

He says that a catalyst for this new interest is the investment made by Russian-Israeli venture capitalist Yuri Milner, who studied theoretical physics at Moscow State University. As part of his Breakthrough Initiative programme, Milner has set aside $100m in funding for SETI. Beginning in 2016, Breakthrough Listen started using radio telescopes at the same Green Bank telescope where Drake began the search.

The programme is expected to last for a decade. Although this is primarily an American project, Garrett thinks that it’s fostering new interest in Europe and beyond. And with more observatories than ever spending at least some time searching for signals, there has never been a higher possibility of detecting something.

In the event that someone does receive a signal, the IAA SETI Permanent Committee has established a protocol for verifying a signal’s authenticity before making it public. While the protocol is designed to reflect the highest standards of scientific rigour to maintain credibility, the news would almost certainly leak beforehand, especially as the circle of people in the know widens as independent confirmation is sought.

“Even the best intention might be problematic to implement practically,” says Yvan Dutil, an independent researcher at SETI and member of the permanent committee.

How will we translate an alien signal?

Regardless of how and when the signal is made public, once confirmed as extraterrestrial, the question will be: what does it say? Almost certainly, finding out will be hard. Dunér, who is also a board member of METI, references the difficulty we encountered in deciphering the Egyptian hieroglyphs. The meaning of that ancient writing system was lost to us for around 1,500 years.

The Rosetta Stone was key to our understanding of Ancient Egyptian language, as it with inscribed with Egyptian hieroglyphs as well as Ancient Greek © Getty Images

We only managed to decipher it after Napoleon’s troops found the Rosetta Stone in 1799, which famously had the same text inscribed in three languages, one being hieroglyphs. Even so, it took another 20 years before French philologist Jean-François Champollion fully understood the Egyptian writing.

“It was very difficult, even though we had exactly the same brains as the Egyptians of 2000 BC. Interstellar communication is much more challenging because we won’t share the same biology or the same brain. We don’t even share the same planet,” says Dunér.

Without these things in common, communication is much more difficult. This is why some have suggested that mathematics and the laws of physics are the best things to begin a communication with because those will be universal.

And if the extraterrestrials are transmitting, then they have clearly developed technology, which means they have an advanced understanding of physics. But just because everywhere in the Universe runs on the same laws of physics, that doesn’t mean extraterrestrials will conceive of them in the same way that we do.

“The way we express mathematics is dependent on our culture, our history and also how our earthly brains are constructed. So, they might express mathematics in different ways,” says Dunér.

The same goes for the structure of language. For example, it seems entirely reasonable to expect their language to contain the equivalent of nouns, as there will be ‘things’ in their world. The aliens must also carry out activities, so there will be verbs too. But thinking like this might be a trap.

“The more I’m convinced that I know things, the more danger I’m in intellectually, if I’m wrong,” says Wells-Jensen.

In other words, to stand any attempt at deciphering a message, we must not rule anything out. She says that the best way to ensure that happens is to release all of the data, so that anyone who wants to can have a go at deciphering it.

“I have deep confidence in human curiosity. So we’ll take that sucker and we’ll poke at it and we’ll fuss over it until we get it,” says Wells-Jensen.

Will the alien message be friendly?

Exactly what might extraterrestrials put into their message? Wells-Jensen hopes for some helpful advice, saying, “It seems like we’re not doing so great down here and maybe we could use some input.” She subscribes to the idea that any extraterrestrial intelligence signalling across the Galaxy would be older and more advanced than our society, simply because of the technology needed to accurately target a planet from another star system.

The Hat Creek Observatory in California is home to SETI’s Allen Telescope Array © Getty Images

Dutil, on the other hand, strikes a note of caution. What if the message is a Trojan horse, he wonders, a subtle attack wrapped up as a message of help? He draws the analogy with misinformation campaigns during wartime, where information is leaked to an enemy to undermine them. “Imagine you’re the most advanced civilisation in the Galaxy and you don’t want to share the Galaxy,” he says.

One scenario he suggests is the dark inversion of Carl Sagan’s novel Contact. In that story, benign extraterrestrials send humans the plans to build a gigantic machine. On paper, no one can fathom its purpose, but they build it anyway. It turns out to be a device for interstellar travel, bringing us into contact with the aliens.

But what if the plans had been totally false, with the machine being all misinformation and nonsense? “Then it’s sucked up a huge amount of resources and commitment for nothing,” says Dutil. Or worse, the message contains plans for something that will work, but is a weapon to destroy the planet.

Even if the extraterrestrials don’t purposely set out to damage us, they may still end up fundamentally changing our intellectual capabilities, especially when it comes to practising science. Imagine the effect of deciphering the signal and finding that it’s a ‘core dump’ of the extraterrestrial’s knowledge base, and that they’re scientifically much more advanced than us. Surely a gift? Not necessarily, says Dutil.

Read more about space:

Receiving a massive amount of knowledge risks undermining the principal skill of our science: blue-sky thinking. This is because instead of investigating lines of enquiry based on personal interest or current world problems without a fixed idea of where that work might lead, researchers will be working towards a known end-goal. If you know the outcome that you’re working towards, says Dutil, then “you could lose the basic scientific skill of understanding how to we ask fundamental questions and investigate.”

These are dark thoughts, and they raise the possibility that perhaps the best outcome would be that we’re unable to understand the message. Even if that is the case, Wells-Jensen thinks that we would still gain a lot. “Even if we can’t squeeze the intended meaning from the message, we’ll squeeze some meaning from it. Just the understanding that we’re not alone out here would be a revelation. So even if we don’t get what they’re trying to tell us, we’ll take some lessons from it. And that will be a success.”

The detection of an extraterrestrial signal is often described as the greatest discovery that science would ever make. Clearly, it seems that’s true for the mere act of detection. It would prove to us once and for all that we’re not alone; that the dark realms of space are alive with intelligence looking back at us.

But when it comes to the deciphering that signal, the consequences become much more difficult to navigate. Rather than a straightforward gift, it seems that it would almost certainly be more like opening Pandora’s box. When it comes to SETI, be careful what you wish for.

Highway 375, aka the ET Highway, where many travellers have reported alien sightings and activity © Getty Images

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#Space

[paxwritesyoi]

Met by Accident - Revisitation

Met by Accident - Revisitation (393827 words) by paxton1976

Chapters: 75/85

Fandom: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov, Katsuki Yuuri & Victor Nikiforov, Otabek Altin/Yuri Plisetsky, Otabek Altin & Yuri Plisetsky

Characters: Katsuki Yuuri, Victor Nikiforov, Phichit Chulanont, Yuri Plisetsky, Victor Nikiforov's Mother, Makkachin (Yuri!!! on Ice), Katsuki Hiroko, Katsuki Toshiya, Katsuki Mari, Okukawa Minako, Otabek Altin, Christophe Giacometti, Yakov Feltsman, Emil Nekola, Michele Crispino, Nishigori Yuuko, Nishigori Triplets, Nishigori Takeshi, Leo de la Iglesia, Ji Guang-Hong, Sara Crispino

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, First Meetings, Car Accidents, Attraction, Developing Friendships, Crush at First Sight, Viktor is an editor, Yuuri is a computer geek, Slow Build, Mild Language, Mutual Attraction, Slow Burn, Snark, Companionable Snark, Illnesses, Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Language, Angst, Homophobia, Rejection, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Male Homosexuality, Confessions, Love Confessions, Falling In Love, First Kiss, new family member, Surprises, Acceptance, Aftermath of Domestic Abuse, Drunkenness, Consent, Frottage, Past Child Abuse, Revelations, Past Suicide Attempt, Birthday Presents, Birthday, Blow Jobs, First Time Blow Jobs, Birthday Party, Gag Gift, Fluff and Smut, Lapdance, Drinking Games, Heavy Drinking, Regret, New Year's Eve, Drinking to Cope, Intervention, Unconditional Love, Valentine's Day, Valentine's Day Fluff, Sweet Sixteen, Brotherly Love, Brotherly Bonding, Custody Battle, Courtroom Drama, Fear, Panic Attacks, Anal Fingering, Sexual Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Teasing, Teen Crush, Homecoming, Mutual Masturbation, Teaching, Homesickness, Vacation, Festivals, Minor Character Death, Family Member Death, Graduation, Courage, Anal Sex, First Time, Switching, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Anniversary, Loss of Virginity, Rimming, Sexual Experimentation, Sex Around The Condo, Multiple Orgasms, Hint of Kinks, vacation planning, Sleepovers, Decisions, Overhearing Declaration of Love, change of plans, Rough Sex, Kinks, Bathroom Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Marriage Proposal, Engagement, Beach Sex, Lame Day of Fun, Cheesy Activities, unwanted flirting, Possessive Behavior, First Fight, physical altercation, Domestic, Sex Toys, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Spanking, Daddy Kink, Light Bondage, Vibrators, Dildos, Food Kink, Engagement Party, Anger, Second Chances, Mistakes, Bad Decisions, Family emergency, Separations, Bullying, 中文翻译 | Translation in Chinese, Italiano | Italian, Translation in Portuguese, Deutsch | German, Translation in Hungarian, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Mental Health Issues, Therapy, BDSM, Gags, Light Dom/sub, Body Image, Unwavering Support, Childbirth, New Parents, Premature Labor, Tattoos, body piercings, Blizzards & Snowstorms, new pet, Gifts from the Heart, Drug Use, Domestic Violence, Drugs, Wedding Planning, Trick or Treating, Halloween, Birthday Surprises, Carnival, True Love

Series: Part 1 of Met by Accident

Summary:

Christmas along with a birthday has arrived, Viktor receiving a gift he'd wished for many years.

“Why do you have a screwdriver?”

Yuuri grinned and turned his back to Viktor. Hearing only metallic scratches, Viktor tilted his head and wondered what Yuuri was up to. When Yuuri turned around, Viktor’s eyes widened when he saw what was etched on the post.

“VN and YK, met by accident, loved on purpose, together forever,” Viktor whispered, feeling hot tears fill his eyes.

“Now everyone will know,” Yuuri said quietly.

“That is such a sweet present, Love,” he said, kissing Yuuri, “Thank you so much.”

“That’s not your present,” Yuuri admitted, “That’s a declaration and acknowledging a beautiful memory. This is your present.”

Yuuri pulled an envelope out of the inner pocket of his jacket and handed it to Viktor. Staring at him quizzically, Viktor carefully opened the envelope and removed two sheets of paper. When he scanned the letter and saw a name he hadn’t thought of in years, frisson jolting through his body.

[totallyexhausted]

The first time Viktor had to take care of Yurio, the kid had been 12.

Hey Guys! Quick note! I had to post this one first before I posted the requested Sick Viktor, because it kind of leads up to some of the things I wanted to discuss in the next post with Viktor’s family (Considering we don’t know much about them). Also Viktor has long hair in here because I couldn’t remember when he cut it exactly. Also! Anyone who knows Russian or Japanese want to translate for me? I apologize if my translation is wrong. If anyone needs help with German, hit me up! Okay, here’s the fic. I’ll post the other one Friday (that one is requested from @shipping-it-like-fedex)

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Viktor hadn’t thought Yakov would agree to it… maybe that’s why he offered in the first place. Whether Yakov had finally run out of options and deemed Viktor a suitable guardian for the remaining two days in Chile, or he had completely lost his mind, Viktor didn’t know. Regardless of the reason, Viktor found himself lying across an armchair in Yakov’s tiny room, flipping through a pamphlet about Easter Island, listening to his Coach lecture him about Yurio. Viktor sighed loudly, dropping the pamphlet in his lap and looked up to see the older man throwing a scarf in his bag. The competition had ended yesterday, leaving two free days before they had to return to Russia. Yakov, however, received an unpleasant phone call from his soon-to-be ex-wife about some issues with their divorce papers, thus demanding he returned at once to deal with it. Unfortunately, this left Yakov in a tight spot considering one plane ticket back to Russia was hard to find, let alone two. Viktor had found it funny, watching the older man pace back and forth in the hotel lobby at midnight, cursing the airport and talking to Yurio’s grandfather on the phone. It wasn’t until Viktor had blurted out that he’d be more than willing to watch the kid for the next two days that he realized his mistake, but like he said, he hadn’t really thought Yakov would have agreed to it in the first place. However, because Viktor had been dumb enough to offer, he was stuck with Yurio for the next two days. Viktor ran a hand through his hair, letting the long strands fall loosely through his fingers. All he wanted to do was soak up as much fun as he could before his flight, but now, that was looking to be a difficult task. Yakov was rambling off some numbers that Viktor probably should have been writing down, and kneeling under the bed, hunting for his left shoe. “Yakov, I’ve got this handled. It’ll be fine. Maybe I’ll get lucky and Yuri will run off. One less kid for you to teach,” Viktor joked. He laughed loudly as Yakov opened the night stand, cursing the empty drawer before turning to face Viktor, “Viktor, I’m serious. He’s only 12. If you lose him, Nikolai will have both our asses! Do you understand?” Yakov said sternly. All the humor was drained from his face now, and instead replaced with an uneasy look that Viktor had never seen before. Viktor felt a chill run down his spine, and crossed his arms over his chest, rolling his eyes, “Da, I understand. I’m an adult, you know.” “Vitya, you might be 24, but you are far from being an adult.” Yakov laughed loudly. He started throwing the pillows off the bed, cursing in Russian. His flight was in less than an hour and he still needed to get to the airport, but considering he couldn’t find his other shoe, the airport would have to wait. He looked up hearing the younger Russian sigh, and snorted, seeing Viktor crossing his arms over his chest, his lip sticking out. He reminded Yakov of Yurio sometimes. “You know child, you look the same now as you did when you were 17… and you still act the same too,” Yakov said, a small smirk spreading across his face.   Viktor huffed loudly, throwing the pamphlet at Yakov as the older Russian continued to laugh. He sighed again and grabbed a hair tie from his wrist, pulling his hair into a ponytail. Sometimes he hated his long hair, it always seemed to get in the way. He sat up slowly, grabbing his phone from the table and looked around the room. He watched his Coach kneel to the ground again, pressing his face to the carpet, pushing his hand under the bed, searching for his shoe. Viktor smirked, opening the camera app in his phone, snapping a quick picture. He’d definitely upload that the moment Yakov left. #Coachhaslosthismind, #Coachloseseverything…evenkids, or #Whoputthismanincharge? Viktor slide his phone in his back pocket and stood up, stretching, “Yakov?” Yakov let out a muffled, “Hm?” He was halfway under the bed now, feeling for his missing shoe. “Where’s Yuri?” Yakov’s head popped up from under the bed quickly, panic etching across his face as he glanced around the room, “What? He was just here a few minutes ago! He- I swear- he- that boy is worse than you Vitya! He- I swear-” Viktor sighed loudly, “Yeah, yeah, I’ll go find him.” He shoved his hands in his pockets, and kicked at the carpet under his feet before walking towards the door. The last two days in Chile were supposed to be an excuse for him to hang out with the remaining skaters, and have a good time soaking up as much culture, alcohol, and fun as he could before returning to his rigorous training schedule. But now he was stuck playing babysitter for a kid he barely knew. Yeah, this was going to be fun. He stopped briefly in front of the door before turning back towards Yakov, “Also, Yakov?” Yakov sighed loudly, turning around to face Viktor, who stood in the doorway, “What boy? What do you want now?” “Your other shoe is in the bag. It was the first thing you packed.” Viktor smirked, closing the door, hearing Yakov cursing his name. ……………………………………………………………………………………………

“I don’t understand what the big deal was. I was just petting some old lady’s cat,” Yurio mumbled softly, crossing his arms over his chest. Viktor sighed loudly, “For the last time Yuri, I wasn’t mad. All I said was if you run off I’d have to come after you, otherwise Yakov and your grandfather would have both our asses.” Viktor glanced across the table at the small boy. Yurio had been in the hotel lobby, playing with one of the small kittens an elderly lady had brought with her from Germany while visiting her grandchildren. The only reason Viktor knew this was because the elder lady would not shut up. She stood and talked to Viktor for what had to be a good two hours, discussing her plans while visiting, and trying her best to give Viktor her eldest granddaughter’s phone number. It took several attempts, and a fake phone call before Viktor had managed to free himself from their conversation, dragging a displeased Yurio behind him. Yurio slouched further in his chair, picking at the food in front of him, “I highly doubt you would be able to chase after me, old man.” Viktor choked on the drink he’d been sipping nervously before setting it down on the table. He ran a hand through his hair, tightening his ponytail and leaned forward, “How old do you think I am, exactly?” Yurio shrugged, slamming the fork down on the table, “I dunno, like 40.” “I’m not that old,” Viktor laughed softly.   “Compared to me, you’re ancient. Tell me, what was the Big Bang actually like, hm?” Yurio mumbled. Viktor eyed him. He knew from previous encounters and from hearing Yakov’s conversations, that Yurio had an attitude. He also knew he didn’t play well with others, and had a hard time fitting in with the other skaters. This was something Viktor hoped he’d never lose- a diehard determination, and a self-determined motivation. Considering the young skater was quickly making a name for himself, and had managed to earn a spot in the senior division next year, Yurio’s little fuck it all attitude would come in handy, and push him to try harder than anyone else. Viktor raised an eyebrow and cleared his throat, “You know Yuri, that attitude will get you in trouble one day.” Yurio kicked the table underneath him and turned to face the couple sitting next to them, “Whatever geezer.” Viktor sighed loudly, crossing his arms over his chest and turned towards the bar across the street. He sighed again, spotting Chris and a few others laughing, slapping each other on the back playfully. At least they seemed like they were having a good time. “You can go over there, you know?” Viktor turned back to face Yurio. The boy was sitting up in his chair now, playing with his food again. He dropped his fork once more and looked up at Viktor, a blank expression painted across his face. Viktor shook his head, and smiled softly, taking another sip from his drink, “I’m here with you, so why would I go over there?” “Look, we both know neither one of us really wants to be here. You can go over there, I won’t tell.” Viktor exhaled and pointed towards Yurio’s food, “You should really eat something.” Yurio shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest again. He shivered slightly and Viktor raised an eyebrow. It was nearly 90 degrees outside and yet the kid was wearing a sweatshirt. It hadn’t really seemed questionable until now. He grabbed Yurio’s hand from across the table and pulled the boy closer, causing him to stand up. Yurio squirmed in Viktor’s grasp, causing Viktor to tighten his grip. He eyed the boy carefully, taking in his features. Yurio yanked at his hand again, “What are you doing? Let go of me you buffoon!” Viktor dropped his hand as the boy sank back in his chair, rubbing his wrist and staring at Viktor. “Viktor what the hell!” He yelled loudly, slamming his fist against the small table. Viktor continued to stare, his eyes scanning over the boy’s pale face. He didn’t look sick, just tired. Then again, he highly doubted Yurio would tell him if he was ill, and to be completely honest, Viktor wouldn’t either. But Yakov wouldn’t leave him with a sick boy, would he? He sighed loudly, faking a yawn and thrust his arms in the air, stretching noisily. He ran another hand through his hair and looked back down at the kid sitting in front of him, “I’m tired. How about we call it a night, da?” Yurio glared at him from across the table. He let go of his wrist and forced his hands in his hoodie pocket. His head and stomach were beginning to hurt, and sleep sounded like a good idea. He nodded softly, feeling a chill run down his spine as the older Russian continued to stare. It was off-putting and creepy, and it made Yurio’s skin crawl. Viktor smiled again, and stood gently, holding his hand out for the boy to grab. He snorted as Yurio stood, smacking his hand away from him, pushing his hand back in his pocket, and shoved past him, walking towards the hotel.   ……………………………………………………….

Yurio woke with a gasp. He laid there, shivering as a cold sweat broke out over his body, and his stomach turned violently. He curled in on himself, letting out a soft groan, listening to Viktor snoring softly from the other bed. He swallowed as an uncomfortable warmth washed over him. He really didn’t feel well. Honestly, he hadn’t since this morning but with Yakov leaving, he wasn’t really going to voice his distress to Viktor. Yurio could handle being sick, he was almost 13. Besides, if he was old enough to travel to foreign Countries alone, then he should be able to take care of himself. Still, a part of him wished Viktor would wake up, at least then he’d have someone to talk to, someone to share his pain. His stomach lurched, and Yurio bolted out of bed, nearly tripping over the blankets tangled between his feet. He slammed against the tiled floor in the middle of the bathroom, puking up acidic bile and the little food he’d eaten that day. He coughed loudly, wiping his mouth with his sleeve, and stood up shakily, closing the door behind him slowly. He felt tears well in his eyes as he stared at the mess on the floor, and knelt gently next to the toilet. His stomach groaned again and Yurio thrust his head into the ceramic basin, puking up another wave of stomach acid. He coughed again, feeling the room around him heating up and wiped at the tears falling down his face. God, he felt sick. His head was spinning and the heat coursing through his small body was making it hard to concentrate. He coughed loudly as his stomach cramped again, and let out a half-choked sob, feeling the slimy liquid rising in his throat. He wanted to go home. He didn’t want to be here. He wanted Viktor to wake up… or maybe he didn’t. He wasn’t really sure. He pressed his forehead against the cold seat on the toilet, swallowing repeatedly, willing his body to stop.

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Viktor wasn’t really sure what woke him. He ran a hand through his hair and squinted at the red digits displayed on the alarm clock: 04:24am. He groaned softly, stretching his arms and spreading out on the bed. He could normally sleep through anything, storms, hail, tornados, fire alarms, hell he once slept through an earthquake; but for some reason he woke with a start, an uneasy feeling lurking in the back of his mind. He sat up slowly, listening to the soft pattering of the rain outside the hotel window, shivering as the cold air touched his skin. He stretched again, running a hand through his hair and looked over to see an empty bed next to him. He flicked on the light on the bedside table and blinked a few times, letting his vision adjust to the soft light. He looked around the room trying to figure out where the boy ran off to, when he heard coughing coming from the small bathroom. Viktor frowned, pushing himself off the bed, and walked softly over towards the bathroom. He knocked on the door gently, “Yuri?” He paused for a moment, not wanting to walk in on the boy if he was just using the bathroom. Viktor leaned against the wall next to the door, waiting for Yurio to answer. He heard another cough and winced. The boy sounded sick. Viktor should have known. He knocked again, letting his hand hover over the handle loosely. Viktor felt a chill run down his spine as retching echoed from behind the door. Shit! He pushed the door open quickly, taking in the sight of the small bathroom. The boy was definitely sick, and by the looks of it, he’d been for some time. Yurio was huddled around the toilet, clutching at the white porcelain as if it was his only lifeline, choking up whatever was trying to leave his body. Viktor shuddered as he glanced at the floor in front of him. Vomit was splattered across the floor, and painted down the boy’s front. Viktor felt guilt wash over him. He was a crappy babysitter. It was his job, for at least two days, to make sure Yurio made it to the airport without dying, and it seemed Viktor couldn’t even wake up when the kid probably needed him the most. He sucked in a shaky breath, stepping into the mall bathroom, “Yuri?” Yurio looked up slowly, resting his head against the toilet seat. He shivered, feeling his stomach lurch again as Viktor stepped into the tiny bathroom. What was Viktor doing here? Where was his grandpa- wait no. His grandpa was in Russia, so, where was he? He coughed loudly, spitting mucus in the toilet, and turned back to look at Viktor with a groan. His vision swarmed again and he felt his heart beginning to pound against his chest as Viktor stepped closer. Why was Viktor here? Where was he? Yurio scooted back slowly, standing to a swaying world as Viktor called to him again. The bathroom seemed off-kilter and bright, and Yurio squinted against the harsh lights. His head was killing him, and he felt like the once cold bathroom was now a hundred degrees. Why was Viktor here? Where were they? Why was it so hot? No, why was it so cold? Yurio saw Viktor’s hand reach for him and he flinched, letting out a strangled shout. Yurio slammed into the wall behind him with a loud smack. His heart was racing, and his vision wavered for a second as he stared at Viktor. Sweat was pouring down his face, dripping in his eyes and burning against his skin. He felt his knees buckle and crashed against the floor, pulling his knees to his chest and crossing his arms around him, shivering. He tried shaking his head to clear his vision but that only made his headache worse. He wanted his grandpa. His grandpa could make him feel better. Viktor stepped closer, bending down slowly, confusion and worry clouding his face. He tucked a strand of his long silver hair behind his ear. “Yura?” He asked slowly, taking another step closer, grimacing as his foot collided with the vomit that decorated the tiled floor. The boy pressed himself closer to the wall trying to make himself small, tears still streaming down his face. He looked utterly terrified, and this concerned Viktor deeply. Yurio flinched as Viktor reached for him, letting out a choked sob, “Get away from me! Don’t hurt me!” Viktor stopped, kneeling to the ground a few feet in front of the boy. The puke that was beginning to soak through his pajama pants was momentarily disregarded as panic flooded his mind. He ran a hand through his hair, taking a deep breath and took in the sight of the young boy before him. Yurio was shivering, but whether it was from the temperature in the chilly bathroom, emotional distress, or pure exhaustion, Viktor didn’t know. His face was coated with sweat, plastering his blonde hair to his face chaotically, and his clothes were an utter mess of vomit, sweat, and tears. Viktor sighed as he noted the pink tint that highlighted Yurio’s cheeks, and painted across his nose. Even from a few feet away Viktor could feel the heat radiating off him. His fever was high, that’s why he was afraid. He sat there for a while, no longer caring about the mess in the bathroom, but instead on what he should do. He closed his eyes briefly, trying to remember what his mother use to do when he or his little sister were ill. He bit his bottom lip as memories flooded back to him, and sucked in a harsh breath, swallowing back tears. What had his mother done? What had she done when he came home with a high fever? He didn’t remember much, just… water. He remembered her forcing him in the shower. Viktor opened his eyes and pushed himself off the floor, walking over to the tub. He grabbed the hair tie off his wrist and pulled his long hair back into a messy bun, hoping it would be out of harm’s way. He turned the knob, letting the water run until it was lukewarm, testing it on his hand first, before turning back towards the small boy. He bent down slowly, putting his hands out in front of him, “Yurochka,” he said softly as if talking to a scared animal, “listen to me honey, your fever is really high. I’m not going to hurt you, but I need to cool you off, da?” Viktor took a step closer causing the young boy to cry louder, tears rushing down his face. Yurio pressed his chin to his knees, “Don’t touch me!” “Yuri, honey, remember what I just said. I’m not going to hurt you,” Viktor said gently. Yurio blinked a few times trying to clear his fevered mind, trying to remember where he was. He felt like his skin was burning him alive, and his headache was making it hard to concentrate. He wanted his Grandpa. Hell, he wanted Yakov. He wanted someone to make him feel better, and he couldn’t understand why Viktor was the only one here. Viktor was just inches away from the trembling kid now. He winced as he pressed his hand against the boy’s cheek, feeling the burning heat scorching beneath his hand. Yurio sobbed, “I-I want g-grandpa.” Viktor felt his heart break, and tears well in his eyes. It was easy when he was sick because he no longer yearned for his parents, he hadn’t since they kicked him out, but Viktor was also 24, so he was grown enough to be able to look after himself… mostly. But Yurio on the other hand, was just a boy, he was still a child, something a lot of people in the skating community seemed to forget. Viktor couldn’t possibly imagine what the 12-year-old was feeling, being ill, feeling sweaty and miserable, stuck in a tiny bathroom, in a foreign country, with an older skater he barely knew. Fucking hell, it would have been better to at least have Yakov here. At least Yurio knew him better than Viktor. Viktor smiled sadly, tucking a loose strand of sweaty hair behind the boy’s ear tenderly, “I know lyublyu, but he’s not here. Just me, and I really need to bring your fever down. The shower will cool you off, and make you feel better, obeshchayu.” Yurio glanced quickly at the water splashing against the tub behind Viktor. He watched in terror as it fell from the faucet loudly, drenching the sides of the tub as it connected with the harsh ceramic ground; it made his skin crawl, and his heart race. He hugged his knees tighter to his chest, digging his fingernails into his legs. Seriously, where the hell were they? He turned back to Viktor, shaking his head fearfully, “Nyet, I-I don’t want to!” Viktor sighed softly, “I know Yuri. And I’m really sorry.” He bit his bottom lip, guilt coursing through him as he pried the boy’s arms away from his knees harshly. Yurio tried to yank them back, he tried to smack Viktor away; he didn’t want to go in the water, he didn’t want to get wet. The idea of letting something cold touch his skin, made his stomach flip, and struck fear in his heart. He kicked at Viktor, hoping to stop the older skater, but his movements were uselessly slow and ineffective. Viktor sucked in a shaky breath as the boy screamed again, choking out incoherent Russian, begging Viktor to stop. Viktor picked him up off the floor, and pressed him to his chest as the boy continued to struggle.   It wasn’t until the water touched their skin that Yurio’s screams became disordered pleading. He smacked Viktor again, pulling at the loose strands of hair that had escaped the hair tie, screaming for Viktor to help. He tried prying himself away from Viktor’s strong grasp, angry curse words leaving his mouth roughly. Viktor felt tears gliding down his face as he held the boy closer, whispering soft Russian to him, trying to calm the boy down. Yurio cried for his grandfather, he cried for Yakov, and finally he cried for Viktor. Yurio was shaking. The water washing over him burned his skin, and made his stomach turn violently. He retched loudly, feeling nothing but foul tasting saliva leave his mouth and drip down his chin. He cried again, begging Viktor to let him out, pleading for Viktor to help. His stomach heaved again, having nothing left to throw up, and instead resulted in sloppy hiccups. Snot ran down Yurio’s face, mixing with the tears that left his eyes, and Yurio grasped again at Viktor’s soiled shirt. Viktor bit his lip again, pressing the boy tighter against his chest, praying he wasn’t hurting him. He shuddered as memories flooded back to him, remembering the panic he felt when the water had touched his overheated skin as a child. He inhaled loudly, remembering his mother trying to calm him down, remembering her singing to him. Viktor ran his hand over the boy’s back as Yurio heaved again. Yurio coughed loudly, “Vik*hic*tor, p-p*hic*le-lease.” “Shh, it’s okay love. It’s okay. It’s okay. I’m here,” Viktor whispered softly, running his hand once more through the boy’s messy wet hair. Yurio coughed again, his limbs growing heavy and slow. His body beginning to feel tired, and he smacked his cheek against Viktor’s shoulder, whimpering softly for Viktor to stop. He coughed again, feeling his hands relaxing around Viktor’s shirt, falling loosely at his sides. His skin wasn’t burning as much, but his head was spinning. Viktor shifted the boy gently in his arms, feeling Yurio go slack against him as the boy began to relax. He wiped the tears that still fell down his face with his free shoulder, and rubbed gentle circles on Yurio’s back. Yurio groaned, and Viktor chuckled softly as hiccups began to echo from the small boy cradled in his arms. The older Russian stood there under the shower, letting the lukewarm water drip over them, rubbing Yurio’s back, and humming to him softly. He pressed his lips against the smaller boy’s forehead, frowning slightly, feeling the burning heat still present against the 12-year-olds temple. Yurio groaned again, and Viktor shushed him gently, “Shh Yuri, just relax. It’s alright. Shh.” “G-grandpa?” Yurio asked softly. He tried to move his arms to wipe the water dripping down his face but his body wouldn’t cooperate. He felt tired, and blinked slowly, hoping to stop the room from spinning. He coughed again, pressing his forehead against Viktor’s neck, taking in the strong aroma of soap, vodka, and strangely, peppermints. Viktor laughed softly, rubbing his hand over the boy’s shoulder blades, “Sorry Yurochka. Just Viktor.” “V-Viktor?” Yurio groaned again. Why was Viktor here? “Hm?” Yurio coughed loudly. His mind was foggy and he sniffed as the water continued to wash over him. He felt cooler now, and the water that soaked through his clothes felt warm and comforting. His body felt sluggish, and his eyes were harder to keep open. He felt Viktor’s hand on his back, and closed his eyes, listening to his soft humming. He was so tired. The bathroom was quiet except for the steady pitter-patter of water that splashed against the ground, and the soft hiccups that echoed from Yurio. Viktor sighed, turning the water up slightly as he felt the boy shift, and ran a hand through his hair. He stood there, humming the tune to one of the songs his mother used to sing to him when he was a boy, biting his lip as childhood memories flooded back to him in waves. He faltered for a second as his father’s words echoed loudly though his mind, I don’t have a son, not anymore! He wiped at some of the tears forming in his eyes and shivered against the lukewarm water touching his skin. He was getting cold, but if it was helping the kid, then Viktor would be more than happy to endure it. Yurio whimpered loudly, grasping weakly at some of the fabric at the bottom of Viktor’s shirt. Viktor shifted the kid to his other side, running his other hand over the boy’s back, and began humming a different song- one Lilia sang to him once when he couldn’t sleep. Viktor smiled softly, closing his eyes and rested his chin on the top of Yurio’s wet hair, listening to the kid’s breathing begin to even out.

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“Yuri, you’re supposed to be in bed.” Viktor said sternly. He finished drying his hair with the towel, and turned to face the small boy. Yurio cast his glance down as Viktor flashed him a stern look. It had taken Viktor nearly two hours of standing under the warm shower for the 12-year-old to finally fall asleep, not to mention, for his fever to begin to drop. After he’d gently woken the boy, getting him to change into some dry clothes while Viktor dried his hair, he still had to deal with the mess in the bathroom, which took another hour. When he’d finally finished, he checked to make sure Yurio was still soundly asleep, before taking what had to be, the quickest shower of his life. Now, however, as Viktor opened to the door, he was surprised to see the small boy standing in the hallway, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders, dragging on the floor. “I-I, my grandpa, when I don’t feel well, he- sometimes he lays with me till if fall sleep…” Yurio trailed off, digging his toes further in the floor, hugging the blanket tighter around his skinny frame. He glanced up shyly at Viktor before looking down again at the ugly carpet. Viktor stood there for a moment, shock and confusion sweeping over him. Yurio never, even being how young he was, knowingly sought out attention. Worry coursed through him because Yurio was acting so out of character. Then it clicked. The boy was lonely. Of course. Viktor smiled warmly before stretching loudly, “Come on Yuri, let’s go back to bed.” He placed a gentle hand on the boy’s shoulder, and led him to the messy tangled sheets. Light was beginning to seep through the curtains, and Viktor walked over, pulling them closer together, hoping to prevent daylight from oozing through. No avail. He sighed loudly and turned back towards Yurio, and chuckled softly. Yurio was a bundle of blankets and pillows, and Viktor fought the urge to grab his phone to take a picture. Instead he sat on the bed next to the 12-year-old, who seemed to scoot closer to Viktor. The older Russian ran his hand through Yurio’s hair, feeling the feverish warmth beneath his bangs. Viktor sighed. He was relieved the boy wasn’t burning like he had been earlier, but he still felt worry in the pit of his stomach. He’d probably have to hunt for some children’s Motrin or something later. He glanced at the clock on the bedside table. It was almost 8am now, and despite it being their last day in Chile, there was no way in hell Viktor was going to drag the kid out in the heat. Viktor smiled softly as Yurio’s breathing evened out. The boy would probably sleep most of the day, and honestly, Viktor didn’t blame him because he’d probably do the same. He grabbed his phone off the nightstand, turning the ringer on silent. He groaned loudly, seeing he had 18 missed calls from Yakov. He was definitely going to get a lecture from Yakov about this. He placed the phone back on the nightstand before turning back towards the boy. Viktor pulled the blanket further around Yurio’s shoulder, running his hand through the boy’s hair once more. He leaned back against the headboards as Yurio shifted in his sleep. Viktor pulled his hair back again, tying it with one of the many hair ties littered across the nightstand, and crossed his arms over his chest, closing his eyes. Maybe he wasn’t the world’s greatest babysitter, but all-in-all, he had to be doing okay.

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obeshchayu- I promise

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Lily Love 2 - Kapitel 9.

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