#whatever its fic i refuse to conform to these new characters

[fanforthefics]

Barrie/Landeskog 42? Please?

I’m going to save you from the terrible date you’re having

Tyson likes to think he’s a bit of an expert on bad dates. 

It’s not from personal experience. Well, not just from personal experience; he’s got plenty of his own stories about it too. But mostly it’s because as a bar tender, he gets a front row seat to a lot of dates, and statistically, most of them are bad. 

He’s seen it all, really--from the ones that he’s actually worried about and has had to extract women from, to the ones where he has to go into the back before he starts cracking up. It’s an actual scale, one that he and the other bartenders --it started as a joke but Kerfy got weirdly into it and now Tyson thinks there are graphs, but he doesn’t question Kerf when he’s got that look in his eyes. 

Anyway, he judges the one in front of him now to only be about a 3.5, in his expert opinion. No one looks in danger of getting hurt or getting soaked in a drink, there are no crazy eyes involved, one of the guys involved is just...boring. 

Tyson’s not even being judgmental here. He’d seen Colin roll his eyes when he was serving him, and Colin’s the nicest guy there is, so if he’s bored then Tyson must be right. 

It is getting kind of painful to watch, though. It’s a slow night--not many people are out on a Tuesday--and so Tyson doesn’t have much else to do other than watch. Not to mention, well. The guy who isn’t boring is probably the hottest guy he’s ever seen. (There’s a scale for that too, with some sort of formula between hotness and amount they tip. Kerf really needs his white board taken away from him). 

Tyson’s seen him around before, anyway; he suspects that he works or lives nearby, because he comes in a fair amount both in work suits and otherwise, and he’s brought dates here before. The dates tend to be very attractive too, in the same way the guy is--like they’re out of a magazine. Tyson doesn’t think he’s ever seen a repeat, though, which says something. (Nate thinks it says that Tyson pays too much attention to the guy, but Nate doesn’t have to work long boring weekday shifts at a bar, so he can shut up). 

Today, the date’s hot, as usual, but Guy Who Breaks the Scale looks like he’s actually about to fall asleep. That’s not usual, even when it’s bad, he’s generally way politer than Tyson would be if tips weren’t on the line. Although maybe sex is on the line for him, so it’s sort of the same? But today, GWBS  is clearly fading, and his date is clearly...not. 

Tyson scrubs at the bar, a little, so it’s not clear he’s just blatantly using customers as amusement. It distracts him, so when he looks up again and GWBS is there, he almost jumps. 

“Hey,” he says, and straightens. Resists the urge to touch his hair, just because GWBS’s is so good that he feels like he needs the extra mile in comparison. “What can I get you?” 

GWBS leans over, looking sheepish and very charming, his blue eyes sparkling. “I hate to ask this,” he says, with a twist of a smile. “But would it be possible for you to, um, spill something on me in the next few minutes?” 

Tyson snorts. “Not usually the request people make of their bartender. Usually we do a lot for the opposite.” 

“Yes, but.” GWBS glances over his shoulder, leans closer so he can lower his voice even more. “If you spill something on me, I have to go home to clean it off.” 

Tyson can feel himself start to grin. “You know, there are easier ways to get rid of a date than ruining a suit.” 

“Yes, but this one gets you a big tip,” GWBS says, but there’s something about the way he’s smiling that makes it not a dick statement, just a fact. GWBS does well on the scale generally because he’s also a good tipper, so that probably helps. “So--”

“Yeah, give me a few minutes. I can handle a spill, trust me.” 

“I am,” GWBS says. "With my sanity, if not my life.” 

“Oh, that’s a bad deal, anyone’ll tell you that. I’m not big on the not driving people insane thing,” Tyson informs him, but GWBS just smiles again, before he heads back to his date. 

A few minutes later, Tyson goes over, ostensibly to clear the empties; he manages a pretty smooth trip and spill of some juice onto GWBS’s lap. He hopes someone got it on film, because it was way smoother than Tyson expected it to go--he mostly expected to end up in GWBS’s lap without spilling anything somehow, because that was how his life would go. 

But he doesn’t--he spills, and GWBS jumps up and starts patting at it as Tyson apologizes as sincerely as he can--he thinks about it as apologizing to the suit for its sacrifice to the cause--and the date is horrified and GWBS makes his excuses and leaves, but not before leaving a 200% tip and mouthing ‘thanks’, so in Tyson’s book it was a good night. 

GWBS is back a few nights later, with another date. She’s a very pretty blonde woman, but Tyson just gets the feeling that she’ll be low on the scale anyway--you get good at picking out bad tippers after a while behind the bar. He can see the date crash and burn, anyway; GWBS’s face starts out smiling and slowly horror comes out behind his eyes, though he keeps smiling. Tyson’s guessing a 5.3, though without hearing what she’s saying, he can’t quite tell. 

“I’m not spilling anything around her,” he says anyway, when GWBS comes up to the bar, something of that sheepish look in his eyes again. “She looks like the kind of person to give bad yelp reviews, and you can’t make that up with a tip.” 

GWBS pauses, which makes Tyson think he really was going to ask. “Also,” Tyson goes on, “That’s a one of your nicest date shirts and I’m not ruining it, as like, a service to the world.” 

GWBS grins crookedly--Tyson is definitely sticking with the nickname--and runs a hand through his hair. “Okay, do you have any better ideas?” 

“Yeah, it’s called, tell her it isn’t working and go your separate ways.” Tyson pauses. “Unless something sketchy is going on. Do you need me to actually get you out?” 

“No, it’s just--” GWBS sighs. “She’s said some shit, about like, immigrants? I didn’t realize...” 

“That’s gross, but yeah, I’m sticking with the ‘telling her’ plan,” Tyson says. He’s so rarely the sensible person in a conversation. It’s kind of throwing him. “That way leads to way better reviews for me.” 

GWBS makes a face. “I’ve had, um. Bad reactions to that, in the past.” 

“Sometimes you get drinks thrown in your face, such is life, bud,” Tyson tells him. “You might be too pretty to understand that, but us mortals deal with it.” 

"No, I mean. Once a guy followed me home anyway, to prove I was wrong?” GWBS explains, which, fine, that’s obviously creepy. 

“Ah, the price of hotness. I clearly know that too,” Tyson says, gesturing to himself. GWBS snorts, which Tyson thinks he should be offended by. “No, dude, I totally do. Who among us hasn’t been catfished?” 

“You--” GWBS cuts himself off, shakes his head. “Okay, but can you help me?”

Tyson sighs, but GWBS is very attractive and a very good tipper and Tyson’s kind of invested at this point. “Fine,” he says, “But I expect a really good review.” 

“It’ll be glowing,” GWBS promises, and goes back to his date. Tyson waits a few seconds, then grabs Josty when he’s coming around from bussing tables, because he’s always up for shenanigans and has no room to judge. 

“Talk to me and look very worried at that dude over there,” Tyson tells him, nodding to GWBS. 

Josty immediately narrows his eyes into his best worried face. Tyson solidarity FTW. “Guy Who Breaks the Scale?” he asks, looking at him. “What’d he do?” 

“Nothing, we’re scaring off his date.”

“Oh, sick.” Josty makes a shocked face, then looks again and points. Tyson nods. He can see the date noticing, and giving GWBS nervous looks. “We should get Kerf, he can do scandalized like no one’s business.” 

“And how do you know that, junior?” 

"What happens in the apartment stays in the apartment,” Josty tells him, and then gasps loudly. Tyson shakes his head sadly. 

“Yeah, we should totally get someone else out here, though,” Tyson decides. “More dramatic. Hey, come here a sec,” he calls into the back. He gets Colin, which is less ideal because Colin’s too nice to really play along. 

“What’s up?” he asks anyway, rubbing his hands on his apron. 

“Look horrified at that guy over there.” 

“Guy Who Breaks the Scale?” Colin asks. he doesn’t look horrified. “Why? Did he doe something?” 

“We’re scaring his date,” Josty tells Colin cheerfully, though it’s at odds with his dark expression. 

Colin’s face shutters a little. “Guys, that’s--” 

“She was being racist, if that helps,” Tyson puts in, and Colin goes angry. He doesn’t do angry often, because he does a lot of work to be mindful or whatever, but he does do it well. Tyson points again at GWBS. 

The date says something, then she’s getting up, and--yes, leaving. 

Tyson waits a few beats, then high fives Josty and Colin. “Nice job guys.” 

“Thank you,” GWBS says, coming over to the bar. He gives them all a grateful smile, which, Tyson isn’t at all jealous he’s sharing it even though he was the mastermind here, whatever. 

Colin looks like he’s thinking about giving GWBS a lecture on how that wasn’t like, a great way of handling problems, but also GWBS is a customer and so not someone lecturable. It’s clearly a difficult problem, so Tyson saves him by giving GWBS a Look. 

“A great review,” he warns, “To make up for us compromising our morals.” 

“Yeah, of course,” GWBS agrees. “I--” 

There’s a crash from the back. “I need to...” Colin starts, and Tyson nods and lets him go. Josty follows him, probably because the kid’s got a nose for drama. 

“Everything okay?” GWBS asks, and Tyson shrugs. 

“Colin’ll handle it if it’s not. The kitchen’s his domain, I’m not allowed in.”

“Why not?” 

“Because I get too involved.” Tyson makes a face. “Apparently no one wants like, a chocolate creation, and so I need to ‘keep it at home, Tyson’ or ‘do your job and stop experimenting, Tyson.’ I’m Tyson,” he adds, to clarify. 

GWBS snorts. “Yeah, I figured,” he agrees, leans on the bar. It really sets off his arms, which Tyson thinks is unfair, because he already broke the scale. “I’m Gabe.” 

“Oh, sick, a name. Definitely better than your nickname.” 

“I have a nickname?” 

“No.” 

Gabe’s eyebrows raise. “Really?” 

“Yes,” Tyson lies. He’s a very bad liar, though, and so Gabe keeps looking at him. “Look, you already promised a good review, you can’t take it back now. Also you just had us scare a girl away, you don’t have any moral high ground here.” 

“Fair enough,” Gabe agrees. “What’s my nickname?“

Tyson sighs. He probably shouldn’t be saying this, but it’s not like he has a choice now. And also, Tyson’s not great at not saying things. “GWBS.” 

“And it stands for....” 

“Guy who breaks the scale,” Tyson admits. He knows he’s red. “We’ve got this whole like, scale formula thing, for hot customers who tip well, and you, well--” Gabe’s grinning, looking very pleased. “You got the nickname before all this,” Tyson warns, quickly. “So we didn’t factor that in.” 

“How high does the scale go?” Gabe asks, sounding very cocky. 

“Look, I don’t even know,” Tyson says, because it’s true and he’d rather say that than admit anything else. “Kerf set it up, and he’s like into numbers and shit and it’s way more complicated than it needs to be. I lobbied for a scale of like, Old Leo to Young Leo, but Kerf won.” 

“And where would I be on your scale?” Gabe asks. He’s still looking awfully smug, which is unfortunately but not unpredictably a very good look on him, all twinkly eyes and warm smile and broad shoulders. 

“Dude, no one compares to young Leo,” Tyson tells him, which is definitely true, even if he thinks Gabe’s still pretty close to breaking his scale. “That’s just, like, a universal truth. Also, you get points off for never going on second dates.” 

Gabe draws back, a little. “I go on second dates.” 

“Bud, you bring your dates here, and I see how many there are, and no one comes twice,” Tyson tells him. Gabe’s going a little red, which is a nice change. “No judgment, customer is always right and you do you or whatever, but--” he stops himself before he implies a customer is bad in bed, because he thinks that’s probably crossing some sort of line. He’s never been great at those sort of things, but he thinks Colin wouldn’t approve which is basically his benchmark. 

“Glad to know I’m so entertaining,” Gabe says at least, a little more stiffly. Tyson snorts. 

“You aren’t nearly the most interesting person, don’t worry. There’s this guy who comes in with his own like, miniature wine glass, i don’t know where he gets it from--” Gabe doesn’t seem like he’s prepared to stop Tyson, so Tyson keeps going, telling stories about the weird people who come to bars--Nate insists that Tyson just attracts all the weirdos, which Tyson hopes but isn’t sure isn’t true--until someone actually wants a drink and he has to go deal with that. 

Gabe leaves before he’s done, but the next day Josty informs him that there is a glowing review on Yelp for the bar, complete with specific praise for how accommodating the barstaff is for out of the box requests, so like, Tyson’ll take it. 

///

Now that he knows Gabe’s name, though, things sort of change. Or maybe it’s now that Gabe’s recognized Tyson out of all the other bartenders. Whatever it is, Gabe’s dates don’t slow down, but he seems to have a lot more trouble getting rid of them. Tyson suspects he just finds it easier to have Tyson do it than to risk doing it himself, because he doesn’t like looking ridiculous. Either that, or he likes Tyson looking ridiculous, which is fair, Tyson knows it’s pretty amusing. 

So they get into a bit of a habit, and it starts getting easier--they develop a series of signals, for when Gabe wants Tyson to break in, which includes everything from tapping the edge of his glass (get ready this might be bad) to desperate looks (please do something ASAP before I throw something). Not that Gabe always uses them, or anything. Sometimes he comes in on a date and leaves with that person, and Tyson doesn’t wonder, you know. Anything at all about what happens after. No one comes in twice, anyway. 

And sometimes, Gabe’s date leaves and then he wanders over to the bar, sits there and bugs Tyson as he’s working and tries to get Tyson to give him free drinks, even though it’s not like he can’t pay for them and anything Tyson gives for free comes out of his pay. It’s--nice. Gabe’s funny and much weirder than his looks make him seem and he laughs a lot at Tyson but he eggs him on, too, banters with him, which is a trait Tyson enjoys in a friend. Also sometimes he tilts his head right and sort of blinds Tyson with his hotness, but that’s an occupational hazard, Tyson thinks. 

“I don’t know what I’m doing wrong,” Gabe says one night, after Tyson managed to get his date away after a record twenty minutes. He stares mournfully at his glass like the end of the world is in it. “I’ll never find love.” 

Tyson rolls his eyes. “Yeah, sure. If someone who looks like you can’t find love, good luck for the rest of us.” He doesn’t have time for Gabe’s self pity today; a big party of post-happy hour crowd just came in and he has to deal with them. He circles back to Gabe a little later; the drink is significantly lower. 

“No, you were right,” Gabe tells him. “I don’t go on second dates. It just--no one ever clicks, you know? It’s never...right with someone. Even when it’s fun, there’s no...” he trails off, bringing his fingers together. Tyson rolls his eyes even harder. 

“Maybe there’s a reason for that.” 

“Yeah, that I’m going to die alone and unloved by anyone except my dog,” Gabe agrees mournfully. “Because something in me doesn’t work for romance.” 

“Okay, first off, you’re cut off.” Tyson takes Gabe’s glass as he says that, ignoring Gabe’s offended huff of breath. “No one likes a negative nancy, Gabriel, get it together.” 

“I’m together,” Gabe mutters. Tyson ignores that. 

“Second of all, you’re not--there’s nothing wrong with you,” Tyson says, because that’s ridiculous. “You’re hot and funny and smart and charming, and people like that. I mean,” he goes on, quickly, “People who are like, looking. And stuff. And don’t mind that you’re also kind of mean and super overdramatic and don’t let innocent bartenders do their job.” 

Gabe makes a tragic face. “If I’m really disturbing you, I can go,” he says, reluctant. 

“Oh my god, Gabe. That wasn’t the--” Tyson groans, then grabs Gabe’s face, tilts it up so he’ll meet Tyson’s eyes. “There is nothing wrong with you, and you’re totally loveable. That’s not the problem.” 

For a second, Gabe just looks at Tyson, his lips pink and just a bit open under his beard, his eyes big and tragic. Tyson doesn’t know if he’s breathing. 

Then Gabe swallows, and tugs his face away. “Well something is,” he mutters. “Because I’m here.” 

“You want to know what’s wrong?” Tyson asks. Gabe makes an irritated grunt, which Tyson takes to mean ‘no fucking duh.’ “Fine. You always go for the same type of person, and that person is you. And clearly that’s not working, even as vain as you are.” 

“What does that mean?” Gabe demands. 

“Vain, it means you like to look--” 

“Tyson,” Gabe hisses, and Tyson snaps a rag at him in response. 

“It means that the kind of person you always bring here is--I don’t know where you’re meeting them, but they’re all a lot like you, like, attractive and polished and kind of boring.” 

“I’m not boring!” 

“You seem like it, though. And like, if no one was here to make you more interesting, you would be.” Tyson shrugs. “I mean, what do I know, I’m just your friendly neighborhood bartender, but it seems like maybe you need to branch out a bit in who you date. Like, people who aren’t just dateable but are also, you know. People you like to talk to, even if they aren’t in your league.” 

Gabe blinks, slowly. His head cock. “Leagues are bullshit,” he says, also slowly. Tyson hadn’t actually thought he was that drunk, but now he’s worried. 

“Easy for GWBS to say,” Tyson retorts, “Us people playing in the minors know better.” 

Gabe laughs, and it’s, as usual, way too fucking much for Tyson to deal with. Tyson turns away to go see if anyone else needs help so he won’t have to deal with it, but then Gabe’s reaching out, and his hand’s on Tyson’s arm, keeping him there. “Leagues are bullshit, but no way you’re in the minors,” he says, and his earnestness as he looks at Tyson is another thing that’s too fucking much, but this time Tyson can’t look away. 

“I--” 

“Brutes, stop flirting for tips and do your job, eh?” Comph throws at him, tapping his shoulder as he eases past him. Gabe’s hand’s back at his side, and Tyson can look away, can breathe again. 

“I’m, um. Gonna do that,” Tyson says, jerking a thumb at Comph. Gabe’s still looking at him, something thoughtful in his face. “Don’t drive home.” 

Gabe hums out an assent. He’s still looking at Tyson when Tyson goes down the bar to help someone else. 

///

Tyson doesn’t know how it happens, but somehow all of Gabe’s dates get even worse. Clearly whatever he said to Gabe didn’t work, because suddenly none of them are working out. He comes in with this tall blonde guy who Tyson almost wants to card, and they seem to be laughing a bit until everything goes wrong and Tyson ends up spilling a drink on Gabe; there’s another massive guy who very loudly, in a heavy Russian accent, declares that he’s there because he wants to see how good Gabe is in bed. Gabe goes red, and Tyson manages to get him away with by coming to Gabe with an emergency phone call. He hears Gabe call another guy ‘Naz,’ which Tyson can’t tell if it’s a nickname or not, but there seems to be some dog vs. cat controversy that ends with Tyson and Josty doing their ‘something is wrong with Gabe routine.’ 

It keeps happening, but Gabe seems less bummed out by it, anyway. He takes it all in good faith, and comes over to the bar and tells Tyson about how bad it was and steals all the bar food. It means he’s there a fair amount, which Tyson isn’t complaining about, even if, like. Maybe he’s getting a little confused. Gabe’s got to have better things to do than hang around a bar after his date is over. 

But apparently he doesn’t, and he keeps hanging around and they keep bantering and Tyson’s can’t tell a customer to leave, that’s bad etiquette. 

“You’d probably get more work done if he stopped flirting with you, though,” Colin says, not unkindly, when Tyson tells him all this before it’s time for Gabe to come in with his date. 

“It’s not my fault if I’m so easy to flirt with,” Tyson retorts, “That’s what keeps you in tip money.” 

Colin chuckles. “Sure, but he’s not flirting with Josty,” he points out. 

“Maybe I’m more flirty--no, I heard it as I said it,” Tyson says, before Colin can point out that that’s probably not true. “Whatever. He has bad dates, I’m not driving him away.” 

“Yeah, that’s why you don’t want him to stop,” Colin replies with an unnecessary amount of sarcasm, because even if he’s the nicest Tyson’s incapable of being friends with someone who isn’t kind of a dick sometimes. 

Tonight, Gabe’s date is another tall blonde dude, who’s missing a fair number of teeth, though his confidence doesn’t seem affected by it which makes it almost attractive. Tyson’s sort of fascinated despite himself. And despite the fact that very early in, Gabe’s face starts going panicky, and it just keeps escalating as long as they’re talking. 

“It’s something about horses?” Josty reports back to Tyson, after doing a round. “I don’t know, but Gabe’s doing the glass tapping thing.” 

As Tyson expected. “Let’s do the whisper,” he tells Josty, and they do. They definitely make eye contact with the guy, and do the best ‘get out while you can’ looks, but the guys just smiles at them and keeps talking. 

Okay, fine. Tyson can escalate. 

Except--apparently he can’t. An emergency call is met by, “If it’s an emergency why didn’t they call his cell?” which Tyson has no real response to, a water spill is met by “Don’t worry about it, I can help with that,” which gets Gabe to shudder a little at the guy’s almost predatory grin. Tyson pulls out all his tricks, one after the other, and none of them work. 

“I think he might have you beat,” Comph says, from where he’s stuck his head out to watch, because Josty is a dirty gossip. 

“I will not be beat,” Tyson tells him. He has a reputation to maintain. Also, Gabe’s getting desperate face. 

Desperate times, desperate measures. Tyson squares his shoulders, walks over to where Gabe and his date are talking. They both stop talking, look at him--and Tyson grabs Gabe’s face and kisses it. Gabe apparently gets the play fast; he pushes into it, his hand around Tyson’s neck, and it’s all--Gabe’s beard scratches at Tyson’s cheeks and his lips are warm and he’s a good kisser of course he is even when it’s not like, anything not okay for a bar and Tyson maybe made a huge miscalculation here. 

Gabe’s hand keeps him there a second longer after Tyson lets him go, then drops, and then it’s just Gabe staring up at Tyson, his mouth a little open. “Tyson?” he breathes, and--he must know the play, he’s good, no one will stay when their date says someone else’s name like that. Tyson’s gaze darts over to the guy--who’s grinning. 

“Fucking finally!” he says, clapping a little. “Gabe was running out of people he could call.” 

“Um.” Tyson is confused. “I’m confused.” 

“Yeah, Gabe said you weren’t the fastest on the uptake, but you got there in the end,” he says, and pats Tyson on the shoulder. 

“I’m not fast on the uptake?” he demands of Gabe, then, “Wait. No. Actually. What the actual fuck is happening?” 

“Um.” Gabe runs a hand through his hair, looking as sheepish as he had that first night. “This is EJ. He’s a--friend of mine.” 

“A friend,” Tyson repeats. 

“Nice to meet you,” the guy--EJ--says. He’s still grinning. It’s a little demonic. Tyson thinks that he’d probably likes this guy.

“A friend,” Tyson repeats. “Not a date.” 

“Well, that depends--” 

“What, exactly, does it depend on, Gabriel?” Tyson asks. He feels like a joke is happening to him and he’s not in on it, and he hates that feeling more than maybe anything. “Because it seems to me like you’re on a date or you’re not, and you were giving me date signals but he--” Tyson jabs a finger at EJ “--is not a date.” 

“Oh, I was given strict instructions to go on a date with Gabe,” EJ says. Gabe looks like he wants to clap a hand over EJ’s mouth, but Gabe’s time for talking is over. “A very bad one. I think I managed it pretty well.” 

“You--had him go on a bad date with you?” Tyson repeats, staring at Gabe. “Is that--I thought that cat versus dog thing seemed made up!” 

“No, Naz really thinks cats are better, I don’t get it,” Gabe says, a little hopeful, like he wants to distract Tyson into that argument. 

“That’s not even a little--what the fuck, Landeskog?” 

“I’ll leave you two crazy kids to it,” EJ stands up, pats Tyson on the shoulder again. “Get him, tiger,” he tells Gabe, then heads to the bar. Tyson can just see Josty hand him a beer before he stops paying attention to that. 

“What the fuck?” he repeats. “Have you been--why have you been getting your friends to come on bad dates with you? Has it all been just like, some weird performance art where you see if people will humiliate themselves for you? Are there like, cameras here, or--” 

“What? No. No, it’s not--” Gabe’s hands on Tyson’s arm again, but it’s a lot less awesome now. “No, Tyson, it’s nothing like that.” 

“Then why?” Tyson demands again. 

“Because--fuck, it gave me an excuse to talk to you,” Gabe says. Tyson can feel his eyebrows shoot up fast enough he’s a little afraid he’ll lose them. 

“Excuse me?” 

“I have a bad date, you help me, we hang it, it’s our thing, right?” Gabe says. 

“You know you’re allowed to just come into a bar, right?” Tyson asks. “And like, talk to me? That’s a thing you can do?” 

“Yeah, but I didn’t just want to talk,” Gabe retorts, fast. his cheeks are sort of red. 

Tyson take a second, but he thinks he might get what’s going on here. It doesn’t make him any less confused. “So you got your friends to pretend to go on bad dates with you so you could flirt with me?” Gabe’s definitely red, but he doesn’t deny it. “Instead of, I don’t know--asking me out?” 

“I can’t ask you out at your place of work!” Gabe protests. “That’s not okay.” 

“But this whole thing is?” Tyson’s voice squeaks a little at the end. He thinks he might carry it off, though. 

“I wasn’t sure--god, Tyson, you were cute and smart and funny and hanging out with you was the best part of any date, but you had to make the first move.” Gabe’s giving Tyson big eyes, like that’ll help Tyson understand. It is, annoyingly, a little convincing. Also, the compliments are probably helping too. “It’d be creepy otherwise, but I needed an excuse to keep coming in. And then EJ decided he wanted to escalate to see what you’d do, because he’s an asshole.” 

“Let’s watch who we’re calling assholes when we’ve just been caught red handed, eh?” Tyson suggests, and Gabe snorts and shakes his head. 

“Okay, but you’ll see, EJ really is an asshole.” His face changes, then, softens. “I really didn’t--I just wanted to figure out how you felt before I did something creepy, that’s all.” 

“And this is what you came up with?” Tyson waves a hand at the bar. But--Gabe is looking sheepish but he’s still so hot, and Tyson remembers how he felt kissing him, and Tyson just really does like him a lot. And also, “You are really lucky I like shenanigans,” Tyson informs him, and Gabe perks up like a dog hearing someone bring out the food bowl, and takes a step closer. “Also that I’m into relationships where I’m not the only one who’s a mess.” 

“I’m not a mess,” Gabe protests, but he’s smiling bigger than Tyson’s seen. 

“Trust me, I’m an expert on messes and I’ve seen you try to date, you really are,” Tyson informs him. Gabe’s still just looking at him, all intense and shit, and so Tyson keeps talking. “And you are taking me on a date that isn’t here. I know it’ll be hard to branch out, but I believe you can manage--” 

“Yes. When?” Gabe asks, cutting Tyson off, and Tyson gulps down air. So. That’s happening. 

“He doesn’t work tomorrow,” Josty inserts from the bar.

“What a coincidence, Gabe’s free tomorrow evening too,” EJ says. 

“Tomorrow, then?” Gabe asks. He’s grinning a little wryly, like he understands that this whole thing is ridiculous, but also like he’s having fun with it. He really does break the scale, Tyson thinks, only a little annoyed. 

“Anywhere but here. And I know your tricks to get out of bad dates, so--” 

“No escaping this time.” 

“You know, I think that sounds more like a threat than you want going into a date,” Tyson starts, and Gabe’s laugh cuts him off, but, yeah. He doesn’t think it’s going to be a bad date either. 

#my fic #avs fic #leafs fic #tyson/gabe #avs tumblr fic #Tyson gets traded and I write a fic with exclusively avs supporting characters #whatever its fic i refuse to conform to these new characters #if Gabe can do shenanigans so can I #(also wow this got long sorry) #Anonymous #izzy answers

[emy-loves-you]

Sanders Sides AU-gust Day 19: 19th Century

Patricia Sanders is the only child of wealthy aristocrat Thomas Sanders. She attends a local aristocrat party expecting to feel the same loneliness and uncomfortableness that she usually feels. But when Remus Royale discovers her (or rather, his) biggest secret and offers a once-in-a-lifetime deal, will Patricia gain the confidence to be comfortable in her own skin? Patton POV, genderfluid!Patton/Patricia, slight Intruality with background Intrulogical.

Warnings: There will be internalized misgendering because Patricia is a ‘good girl’ and being genderfluid at the time was a big no-no. This fic does not condone misgendering or any transphobic/misogynistic/homophobic opinions that characters in this fic may have.

Day 18 | Masterlist | Day 20

Patricia Sanders was the perfect (and only) child of Lord Thomas Sanders. She did everything her father asked of her. She always smiled and told witty jokes to make him happy. She learned how to read and write and be a good wife. She could sing and play the piano and sew. She never stepped out of line and never spoke out of turn.

But just because she was the perfect daughter, didn’t mean that she felt perfect. Most days, Patricia couldn’t even look at her own body without sneering in disgust. Her maids told her she simply lacked confidence in herself, and that she was beautiful both inside and out (the word ‘beautiful’ made Patricia’s skin crawl, but she didn’t realize why for a very long time). Somedays none of her dresses looked appealing to wear. Every time, her father would buy her a new dress; and every time, the new dress would make her feel worse. Somedays her hair felt too heavy on her head; it only felt better after she ‘accidentally’ cut it off at age 9.

Most days, Patricia felt like the perfect little girl. But somedays she felt like someone else. And as she blossomed from a little girl to an eligible young woman, her ‘someone else’ days became more and more frequent. Patricia never learned what was wrong with her…

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...is what she wanted people to think. Because in reality, Patricia figured it out when she was 15. An anonymous author had published an outlandish book simply titled ‘Love.’ It was a book that could commonly be heard about through peasant’s gossip, though it was secretly whispered about between the aristocrats and nobles. While it wasn’t polite to speak of such vulgar material, the contents were too outrageous to not talk about. The first issue was that the male protagonist falls for another man. If that wasn’t scandalous enough, the later scenes of… adultery are most shocking. The love interest is described as a male, but in the writing is given breasts and other biologically female parts. They even have a child at the end! So what did it mean? Some gossiped that the author described the love interest as a man due to the vulgarity and outspokenness of the character, to show that she acted more like a brute than a lady. Others speculated that it was about a married man having impure thought for another man, and that he’s imagining his forbidden love while being pleasured by his wife. Patricia had stolen the book from one of the maids and read it for herself, and she found herself relating to the love interest in more ways than one. What if the love interest was just a man born in a woman’s body? Was she a man born in a woman’s body?

Patricia had nearly burned the book after that thought. That was absurd! She’s a woman, for god’s sake!

Most days, Patricia though that the book was ridiculous. She was a woman, and she felt like a woman. But somedays, Patricia would carefully remove the book from its hiding place and reread it. And every time, the love interest became more and more relatable. But Patricia’s favorite character was their son, Patton.

Patton, what an interesting name. Patton Sanders.

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Patricia sighed as she sipped her champagne. Her father had encouraged her to go to one of the local aristocrat’s birthday party. Sadly, today was one of those days. Her hair was tied up into a tight bun, so she wouldn’t feel the urge to yank it out every time it brushed against her neck. She wore no jewelry, knowing she would just feel worse if she wore it. She wore very little makeup, and her dress was extremely modest. When Patricia felt like this, she learned that looking at her skin made her uncomfortable. So, she would cover it up. While these were simple solutions, they left her hot and uncomfortable. She was only an hour into the party, and already Patricia wanted nothing more than to go home and take a bath before bed.

“A lovely night, isn’t it?” Patricia looked to her right and bit back a gasp. Standing there with another flute of champagne was Lord Remus Royale. Lord Royale was known as a flirt; he’d been known to socialize and flirt with multiple women, yet he’d turned down every marriage proposal. His excuse seemed to be that he refused to marry a woman that would potentially fall for his twin brother, Roman.

Patrica then seemed to realize that he was talking to her, and forced out a response. “It is.” She took another sip of champagne before speaking. “For what do I owe this pleasure, Lord Royale?” Patricia wanted nothing more than for the young lord to go away. While Lord Royale was extremely attractive, to be flirted with while feeling like this would be pure torture.

Lord Royale laughed. “Please, no need for pleasantries. Just Remus, if you will.”

Patricia gave him a curtsy. “Patricia Sanders. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Remus.”

Remus smiled. “Well, Patricia, may I have this dance?” If this had occurred yesterday, Patricia’s heart would have burst at the way her name rolled off of Remus’ tongue. Tonight, it made her skin crawl.

Patricia smiled. “Well, I couldn’t say no to such a gentleman.” They deposited their flutes on a nearby tray before making their way to the dance floor. Remus was surprisingly gentle with his touches, putting more pressure on her hand than her waist. Patricia was thankful for that, knowing that any more pressure on her waist would make her squirm uncomfortably. They danced through several songs before Remus spoke up.

“Can you see the woman behind me?” Patricia looked over Remus’ shoulder and nodded when she saw Lady Maybell. “How good do you think she is in bed. Actually, how well do you think her dance partner is in bed?”

Patricia blushed. “A lady shouldn’t think such thoughts.” Patricia ignored the way her stomach twisted at her own words.

Remus chuckled slightly, moving forward to where his mouth was mere inches from Patricia’s ear. His breath made her skin hot, but his words made her blood run cold. “But you don’t want to be a lady, do you?”

Patto- Patricia let out a shaky breath. “W-what are you implying?”

Remus chuckled again, not moving from his place uncomfortably close to his her neck. “I’ve heard a lot about you, heir of Thomas Sanders. How you tried to wear a suit at Lord Smith’s party. How you once cut your hair up to your ears. Even now, you refuse to wear jewelry and your dress is more modest than a nun’s. You’re not the first person I’ve met who was born in the wrong skin.”

It took all of Patricia’s willpower to not cry. Patricia was a good girl! And here he she was, having his her biggest secret exposed by a stranger. “And what if I do feel that way? Are you going to have me burned at the stake? Or perhaps you’ll spread enough rumors to ruin my life.”

Remus leaned back to where he was now facing Patricia, and he she could see the smug smirk on his face. “Not at all! In fact, I have a proposition for you. Meet me on the eastern balcony in fifteen minutes.” The song ended, and he knelt down to kiss his her hand. “It was a pleasure to meet you, m’lady.”

Patricia forced herself to smile. “Likewise, Lord Royale.”

Patricia should just go home. Or enjoy the rest of the party and avoid Remus. But the young lord held the secret that could ruin the lives of both Patricia and her father. So, after visiting the washroom and wishing the host of the party a happy birthday, she made her way to the eastern balcony. It was completely empty besides Remus, who was drinking another flute of champagne. Another flute sat on the railing next to him. Remus was staring out into the night sky, a small smile on his face. As Patricia approached, he began to speak. “Did you know that the stars form patterns in the sky? Each pattern has its own name and story behind it.” He gestured to the flute on the railing, and Patricia took it.

Patricia hummed as she took a sip of the champagne. “I did not know that.”

Remus then faced her, yet the far-away look was still in his eyes. “My gardener told me that. He is very smart. Almost every night, I sit out in the garden and listen to him tell stories of the stars. Every story is breathtaking.” He chuckles, though it’s much softer than his chuckles in the ballroom. “Though I can’t tell what steals my breath; the words themselves or my gardener.” His gaze focuses on Patricia now, and it feels like he’s staring through her soul. “He’s like you, feeling like he was born in the wrong body. I call him a man simply because he wishes to be one.” His gaze shifts back to the stars, and they seem to give him encouragement. “I am madly in love with him. And even if he called himself a lady, we could never marry due to my status as a noble.” He took a sip of champagne. “So here is my proposition: you wish to be happy with who you are on the inside, and I wish to be happy with my gardener. But we are both expected to marry other nobles who don’t see such things as acceptable. So, why don’t we marry each other?” He gently pries her hand from where it’s gripped the railing, and she lets him. “Inside my manor, you will be able to dress and be called whatever pleases you. There will be no expectations or conformities. Outside of my manor, we will be husband and wife. If we fall in love along the way, then hooray! You’ll just have to share with Logan. If not, we can remain friends. All I ask is that you produce me at least one heir and have no children that aren’t mine. I will do the same.”

Patricia stood there in shock as she processed the information. The thing that stood out to her the most was that Lord Royale was proposing to her! And if what he promised was true… “What if I decline?”

Remus nodded. “Then I’ll be on my merry way and you’ll never have to see me again.” He then smirked. “But something tells me you want this just as much as I do.”

Patricia bit her lip. “May I have a week to think about it?”

Remus smiled. “Of course! Marriage is a big step. Just send me a letter once you’ve made your decision.” He brought her hand up to his lips. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Patricia-”

“Patton.” Remus froze, the hand still touching his lips. Patri Patton continued. “Some days my name is Patricia. But other days, like today… my name is Patton.”

“Patton,” Remus spoke his name like it was a holy prayer, and Patton felt himself shiver in the most pleasurable way. Remus kissed his hand again, and this time it felt more important. More sensual. More personal. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Patton Sanders.”

As Remus walked away, Patton felt himself blush as he smiled to himself. That was the first time anyone had ever called him Patton, and for once Patton felt perfect.

#sanders sides #AU_gust_2020 #19th century #intruality #intrulogical #patton sanders #remus sanders #genderfluid patton

[kazliin]

This one was definitely my favourite of all the fake fics for the Rivals series I came up with and so I couldn’t help but writing a bit more! 

Original post here 

Part 1 here

Disclaimer - this is a mock up of what one of the fics written by Viktuuri fans in the Rivals universe on the alternate AO3 might look like and therefore is a reflection of how fans see umfb!Yuuri and Viktor not as they actually are. Also again this is a quick fun piece of writing so please don’t take it seriously!

Every Pawn Can Become A Queen Snippets Part 2 of ?

Rating:  Explicit

Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions of Violence

Category: M/M

Fandom: Figure Skating RPF

Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri/Viktor Nikiforov

Characters: Katsuki Yuuri, Viktor Nikiforov, Katsuki Mari, Phichit Chulanont, Christophe Giacometti, Yuri Plisetsky, Otabek Altin, Jean-Jacques Leroy, Georgi Popovich, Mila Babicheva, Other Character Tags To Be Added

Additional tags: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Alternate Universe – Historical Fantasy, Alternate Universe – Royalty, Plotting, Assassination Attempts, Enemies to Lovers

Summary:

Yuuri is the Prince of an Empire, second in line for the throne and renown in battle, a formidable warrior who has been fighting for almost half his life against the neighbouring Empire and their barbaric ways. But after tragedy strikes both kingdoms, an uneasy peace must be formed between the two opposing sides, a peace that must be sealed with the strongest of bonds.

Charged with keeping the peace for the sake of his people, Yuuri is forced to leave his homeland forever and marry the only son and heir of the opposing kingdom, forging an alliance with marriage to protect the empire built on the backs and blood of his family and now ruled by his beloved sister. But Yuuri knows what the marriage truly is beneath the pretty words. A life-sentence, imprisoned forever under the rule of a man he hates and has faced on the battlefield countless time.

But the political machinations of the foreign court might prove to be an even deadlier battlefield than the one he just left and he must keep the peace between the two kingdoms to save the lives of millions, whatever the cost. And what’s more, his long-time enemy and new husband is not the man he believed him to be and his position as Prince Consort holds more power than he ever expected. For the one who holds the heart of the future king is the one who can control the kingdom.

Plot summary of events so far:

Yuuri and Viktor are both princes of enemy empires. Viktor is the firstborn and heir to the throne while Yuuri is the second child after his sister. Their countries have been at war almost their whole lives and Yuuri and Viktor are both the best warriors in their respective armies, having been trained to fight since they were children.

They first faced each other on the battlefield when Yuuri was sixteen during his first battle and Viktor was twenty. Viktor didn’t take Yuuri as a serious threat and played with him for a while rather than killing him straight away as a taunt, which gave Yuuri’s soldiers time to step in and take the eventual fatal blow instead. Horrified at the loss of his men and at how easily Viktor had beaten him, Yuuri devoted his life to fighting until he was a warrior to rival Viktor.

They met on the battlefield many times and Viktor learned that it had been a mistake not to kill Yuuri when he had the chance. At one point Yuuri managed to knock Viktor to the ground defenceless, which was when he gave Viktor the scar across his face that never properly healed. But one of Viktor’s other soldiers distracted Yuuri enough for Viktor to recover without being killed and neither of them ever managed to kill the other in battle no matter how many times they had fought.

Eventually an unexpected plague swept through both Viktor and Yuuri’s empires, killing Yuuri’s parents and a huge portion of their people and their armies. Both countries decided that, so weakened by the tragedy, neither of them could survive a continuation of the war with their population and resources so depleted so they mutually agreed to peace. The respective councils of the countries decided that to keep the peace it had to be sealed by marriage and since Viktor was an only child and Mari was next in line to lead, it had to be Yuuri who was married off as insurance and a peacekeeper.

Yuuri was sent off to Viktor’s country and married although he resented it and refused to conform to any of their expectations. Once he was there, he found out Viktor as a person was nothing like he expected and was actually very kind, which surprised him.

His main job while he was there was to make sure peace was kept but in private he and Mari also decided that the peace was fragile and he needed to make sure they had the best possible chance of winning if the war started again. Viktor’s empire and army was bigger than theirs and while they had still been holding their own in the war, it had begun to turn against them before the plague stopped everything.

To make sure they had the upper hand, Yuuri’s other job was to find out as much about the enemy country and plans as he could and report back to Mari in coded letters using a secret system only known in their royal family. Thinking he was doing what was best for his country, he told her about the ways in and out of the palace, its strengths and weaknesses, what rota the guards worked on, which courtiers could be persuaded to betray the royal family and for what price, anything that might give them the upper hand if war broke out again.

As the months went on, Yuuri took his job keeping the peace very seriously and it began to look like with his help it might actually hold and that it would never come to their desperate backup plan. He also began to find that he was falling for Viktor and they spent a lot of time together riding and hunting etc. At one point they were ambushed by bandits and Yuuri saved Viktor’s life. Viktor commented that if Yuuri had let him die he would be able to return home as there would be nothing to bind him there anymore but Yuuri realised that he couldn’t bring himself to let Viktor die and his first instinct had been to put himself in danger to save him. The trust between them began to grow and Yuuri stopped sending information back to Mari, confident that the peace would hold permanently as he and Viktor had actually grown to love each other and when Viktor became King he and Mari would keep the peace for Yuuri’s sake.

Eventually they started a romantic relationship and Yuuri completely fell in love. He and Viktor started sleeping together and spent all their time together. Viktor told him things he had never told anyone else before and showed Yuuri the secret passages in the castle that he used to play in as a child that lead onto his room and his parents room as a show of trust.

Unbeknownst to both of them, there was a plot to restart the war. The country that bordered the two empires wanted to take over land it believed was rightly theirs, part of which was owned by Viktor’s empire and part of which was owned by Yuuri’s. The Advisor to Viktor’s father was in on the plot with a group of nobles, as was a distant member of Yuuri’s family who was royalty and, although distant, next in line for the throne after Mari and Yuuri.

The plan was that a war between the countries would destabilize them and they would eventually wear each other into the ground. On Viktor’s side the Advisor was going to make sure that eventually Viktor died in battle (although he had been proving annoyingly hard to kill) so as not to be suspicious and the instability of the country devastated by years of war would eventually allow him to unseat the king and queen and let the council, of which he was the leader, take over running the country. On Yuuri’s side the relative would make sure both Yuuri and Mari died in the fighting which would leave him to take over the throne. The neighbouring country backed this coup and in return they would get to take back the lands they wanted from the weakened empires.

Unfortunately, the plague had gotten in the way of the plans as it stopped the war and Yuuri was sent to keep the peace. So they changed the plan to instead brand Yuuri as a traitor to force the war to resume. Yuuri’s relative suggested to Mari that Yuuri could be used as a spy to protect their countries if war ever broke out again which she agreed to, not knowing that he was a traitor. Once Yuuri was well enough established in the palace and Viktor had fallen for him, the two sets of traitors set up a trap for them all.

The relative sent assassins to the palace under the guise of being sent by Mari. Using the insider information from the Advisor, they used the secret corridors that Viktor had shown Yuuri to get access to the King and Queen’s chambers. The plan was to kill the King and Queen and make it clear that only someone who knew about the corridors could have sent the killers, killers who were obviously from Yuuri’s home country. Unfortunately for them, Viktor walked in on them in time to save his father but not his mother.

The Advisor advised the King to promise to let the assassins live if they revealed who sent them and they ‘confessed’ that it had been Mari using the information that Yuuri had sent her.

The Advisor also admitted that he had been suspicious of Yuuri ever since he came and had been keeping aside some of Yuuri’s letters to Mari that seemed strange. The assassins gave the information about the secret code the two had been using which allowed the letters to be revealed as Yuuri passing on information as a spy.

All those letters were old however but since the Advisor had conspired with Yuuri’s relative he knew the code and had learned Yuuri’s style well enough to fake some new letters. In the faked ones, he wrote that Yuuri had told Mari about the corridors and knew about the planned assassination attempt even though it was something that Yuuri had kept a secret because he had come to trust Viktor. He also wrote that one of Yuuri’s goals was to make sure that Viktor fell in love with him. That way, once the King and Queen were dead he would be the second most powerful person in the country and could manipulate Viktor into doing what he wanted.

This meant that it looked like Yuuri was involved in the plot to kill Viktor’s family and that he had been faking his feelings to manipulate Viktor. Because Yuuri actually had done some of the things he was accused of, when more evidence was brought forward it made him look guilty enough that the fake stuff was believed as well. He was arrested and while he had figured out that he was being framed to start the war again to destabilize the countries, and he knew who was the traitor on his side since there was only one person other than Mari who could have taught anyone how to read the letters, he had no proof of his own innocence. The king also wanted him dead because he thought Yuuri was responsible for the death of his wife and betraying his son. Viktor believed it too because it was too believable for him to deny.

The king decided to execute Yuuri which Yuuri knew would lead to Mari declaring war again. If she did, their empires couldn’t survive it and the traitors would have the perfect opportunity to make sure she and Viktor died in battle to take power. The Advisor could unseat the king, pretending that he was too devastated by the loss of his wife and son to be a good leader anymore and with both Yuuri and Mari gone their relative could have the throne.

Viktor was heartbroken by what happened and believed that Yuuri had been using him all along and that Yuuri was the reason his mother was now dead.

And that was where the last part I wrote ended (but in the fake fic that was chapter 10 of 15 so there was theoretically a lot more still to come)…

 Extract from chapter 11 of 15

The sound of the cell door creaking open alerted Yuuri to a presence seconds before the torchlight from the corridor spilled into the pitch blackness of the room, illuminating the figure standing in the doorway. As the light flickered over the figure’s face Yuuri felt a flood of relief rush through him and tried to stand only to be jerked back by the chains binding his wrists to the floor.

“Viktor.” he breathed in relief but the look on his husband’s face never changed from the cold, blank stare that had been firmly fixed in place from the moment he had entered the cell.

“Don’t you dare.” he said and for a second his voice cracked and Yuuri heard the vulnerability beneath it. “Don’t you dare use that name when you’ve been nothing but an enemy traitor all this time.”

Yuuri flinched back at the words because it had taken him so long for the hatred in his heart to fade into a gradual love and for his address to Viktor to reflect that, changing from a mocking ‘your highness’ and ‘my prince’ to the name he had grown to love so well.

“Viktor, please believe me.” he tried again but Viktor didn’t look any more convinced than he had in the throne room when Yuuri had pleaded his innocence and Yuuri could understand why. From the outside it looked like he was a traitor and a manipulator and he knew that he wouldn’t even be able to blame Viktor if he watched impassively as Yuuri was dragged to the execution block the next day.

“I love you.” he said instead because even if Viktor believed it was a lie he couldn’t go to his death without saying it one more time. “And please. Even if you don’t believe me, don’t let the war start again. Kill me if you have to, but promise me you will keep the peace no matter what.”

The rational part of Yuuri knew that it was futile but he couldn’t help but pray that even if he died Viktor would be able to convince Mari not to tear both their empires apart for revenge and let the real traitors become kings of the ashes. If the war resumed he knew the fate that awaited Viktor’s father, his own sister and Viktor himself and even if he was terrified of his own death, the thought of Viktor and his sister cold and pale on the bloody battlefield scared him far worse.

Instead of answering, Viktor approached him swiftly, face hard, and Yuuri flinched back. But instead of the blow that he had expected, Viktor instead grabbed his hands, pulling them forward so that the chains were taught and unlocking the metal cuffs encircling his wrists, allowing them to drop to the floor.

Yuuri looked up at him in shock but instead of speaking Viktor simply hauled him out of the cell and dragged him down the strangely deserted corridor, through the twisting maze of the palace dungeons and eventually out into the fresh open air. Waiting for him outside was a horse, saddled and bridled with saddlebags full of food and water strapped to its side. Yuuri turned back to Viktor and there was a pain and confliction in his blue eyes that was more heart-breaking than anything that Yuuri had ever seen there before.

“I can’t…” Viktor began but his voice choked and he cut himself off.

“I can’t watch you die.” he finally finished after a few seconds but when Yuuri tried to reach for him Viktor knocked the hand away angrily and his other hand moved to where Yuuri knew he kept a dagger concealed under his robes.

”Don’t touch me.” Viktor spat angrily. “You’re a traitor and a manipulator and I know that everything was a lie. But the gods have cursed me to love you anyway and I can’t bear to stand and watch the end that my father has planned for you. But I’ll never forgive you for what you’ve done.”

Yuuri could feel the pain tear through him, worse than any wound he had experienced before but there was nothing he could do to change what had already been done.

“There’s enough food and water here to get you across the border.” Viktor told him, motioning to the horse standing in front of them. “Run back to your sister, run away, I don’t care. But never come back here again. You have until first light until your escape is discovered and then every soldier and hound will be after your blood.”

“I’ll make this right.” Yuuri vowed, still wanting to reach out to Viktor but knowing that he would be struck down before he could. “I know you still don’t believe me Viktor but somehow I’ll make this right.”

“If you ever set one foot back in my country again, I’ll kill you myself.” Viktor promised him instead of acknowledging Yuuri’s words. “This is the only chance you will ever have to escape the consequences of your crimes. My love for you has made me weak enough to let you go but I won’t be merciful a second time.”

Fighting back the sting in his eyes Yuuri mounted the horse, throwing one last look at Viktor over his shoulder as he did so. The other man watched him impassively but Yuuri could see how his hands were balled so tightly into fists that his knuckles were white and he could sense the pain hidden under the surface, a perfect match to his own.

“Go.” Viktor said, looking at the skyline where the first hint of morning was just beginning to creep over the horizon. Yuuri had just enough time to make it to the border if he rode hard and fast but it would be very close and very dangerous. “Go and never come back.”

Yuuri turned away and kicked his heels into the horse’s flanks, jolting it into action and galloping away from the castle that had become his home, leaving Viktor as a single solitary figure disappearing into the distance behind him.

The pain still burned within him but he knew that he couldn’t let it overwhelm him. There was still so much he had to do. A plot to avert, traitors to uncover, amends to make. He didn’t know quite how yet but he was determined to reveal the full scope of just how much everything had been manipulated right from the very start and maybe then, once he knew the truth, Viktor might be able to find it in his heart to forgive him.

Yuuri rode hard and fast and didn’t let himself look back. He had a war to prevent.

#rivals series #Kaz's writing tag