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victors instagram probably

Mari Woodhull, OC of Legume_Shadow from AO3

Yesterday, There Were More of Us (Old Work)

Chapter 1: Yesterday, There Were More of Us

Alexander Palace, St. Petersburg, Russia…

January 1, 2177

They were all sitting down, all of the adrenaline had drained out of them when they were sitting in their separate limos, and now they were in shock from the events that happened a few hours before.

No one saw this coming, except the a few within their ranks.

And that was the number one thing all International Elites fear the most: traitors.

Which is how all of this happened.

Now Nikolai Romanov was thinking about it, The Late Cosmo de Lafayette looked somewhere off in the distance above the reporters and paparazzi.

I guess we’ll never know , he thought.

People around the world call it The Great French Assasination for several reasons: it took place in Paris, many French International Elites were dead via assasination, a motivated personal plan was set up by Holy Queen Georgette of Britannia, thousands of French dead, acres of land and building were razed to the ground. Furthermore, many of the IE’s who had survived it and now were either safe in their country or somewhere in France suffered injuries. And the cherry on top was that Lyanna de Lafayette and Alexander Hamilton were captured by the Sheridan’s Rangers.

Tonight was supposed to be a fun night as any International Elite Reunion Gala, but instead, it was full of heartache, tears, pain, bloodshed, and serious diplomatic decisions that will change everything as they know it.

His daughter, Yelisaveta, glared vehemently at them, “I told you all,” she spat at them, “Britannia was going to do something sooner rather than later.” She threw her arms up in the air with suppressed anger, “Now look where that got us: this shithole of a mess.”

A loud exasperated sigh rang through the near silent room, “Yes, you did Lisa,” she punched the bridge of her nose to try to calm herself down, “but we couldn’t have done anything at the time, I told you that ,” she tried to reason with her but to no avail.

The figure skater glared at her, “Well I’m sorry, your Royal Majesty ,” Liska sneered, “I guess I overestimated your power, Sasha.” Before the young Tsarina of Russia could retort, a fist slammed down to an armchair. “Now isn’t the time of dwelling in the past and blaming others,” looking directly both at their daughter and ruler, “we need to make a decision on how we’re going to respond to this for the entire world is looking at us.”

“Grigor is right,” all eyes turned to the third eldest, “we either ignore this whole situation or go to war, both choices will result in bloodshed and scrutiny on both sides of the spectrum, and the entire world.” Evgeniya Brazauskienė, stated with a tone that meant business and absolutely no dilly dallying.

With that, they laid out the fate of Russia for the next few years…

~.~

Osaka, Japan…

December 12, 2164 (13 years earlier)…

Nothing could stop her from smiling, even when her cheeks started to hurt. How could she not? She had just won the Junior Grand Prix Final of Figure Skating with a total score of 219.67 points, her now personal high score.

The sound of trumpets roared through the air, mixing with all the cheerings of everyone in the room.

“ISU Figure Skating Final 2163 and 2164, Osaka, Japan, victory ceremony Junior Ladies,” Mr. Suzuki announced in English, while another, Ms. Takahashi, repeated in Japanese.

Everything was set on the ice: a red and white podium with the symbol of the Grand Prix of Figure Skating Final 2164 logo, three medals on three trays carried by three girls, three flowers carried by another set of three girls, all under a gray rug.

The male announcer started, “Third and winner of the Bronze Medal, representing Russia: Yevgenia MAKARAVERA!” Zhenya skated on the ice just as they said her name, her full blue dress sashayed while the background music of River Flows in You by Lorenzo de Luca, then skated to her place on the lowest part of the podium.

“Second and winner of the Silver Medal, representing Russia: Yulia KAIDENOVSKYA!” Yulka was wearing a Bridgerton inspired dress with the music of Material Girl cover used in the show, eventually skating back to take her place as second on the podium.

“First and winner of the Gold Medal, representing Russia: Yelisaveta ROMANOVA-POTEMKINA!” The crowd cheered louder than before, some chanted her name “Lisa, Lisa!”, some waved the Russian flag higher, and some just created flat out noise. Her gold, pink, and purple dress moved along with her as the music of Syrax’s Flight by Ramin Djawadi played but was drowned out by everyone around her. The Russian bowed multiple times, quickly making her way to her place as the winner of the Junior Ladies, but not before hugging her two companions.

“The medals will be presented by our honored guest: Representative Violet Hill.” As the Canadian placed the medal on each girl before Yelisaveta, the crowd cheered respectfully, while they shook hands. As the elderly woman raised the medal, she bowed down for the gold piece to be hung around her neck. Ms. Hill was quite careful of her long hair that was wrapped in a low bun. The temperatures clashing between the cold, youthful one and the warm, wrinkly of the other.

“The flowers will be presented by ISU Representative Maratelle Romano.” This time, the Italian shook their hands before giving out the flowers, each looking identical. “Ladies and gentlemen, please rise for the national anthem of the winner.”

As they sang their motherland’s anthem, the Russian flag was presented in front of them.

“Ladies and gentlemen, may I present to you, our medalists!” They all posed for the small group of photographers in front of them.

“We invite the skaters to take a victory lap around the ice.” The winner looked at her friends with a questioning look. While she was down to do it, Yelisaveta wanted to make sure that they were too.

With the biggest smiles they had, they took their time taking their lap around the rink; making sure to high-five the hands in the crowd.

One spectator gave them flower crowns with their favorite flowers: Yevgenia with daisies, Yulia with jasmines, and Yelisaveta with lilies.

After much posing for pictures, it was finally time to get off the ice and do the most painful part of it: the interviews.

Immediately after they got off the ice, they were hounded by one of the three devils also known as their coach. “Zhenya, you’re right leg was off. Yulka, you’re simply not good enough. Lisa, do better than whatever abomination of that bow was.” Ekaterina Tupincina hissed at them, “We practiced this for weeks!” Thankfully, she stopped when a cameraman came a little bit too close, but they all knew that it would be worse later. It was like a switch in her personality when she later instructed them cheerfully to prepare for the hounds.

Flashes were all around, along with the irritating screaming. How amazing , Yelisaveta thought, just after winning the Grand Prix, we get this monstrosity . Thankfully, Yevgenia shut them up by saying -more like yelling- that they will start if it was quiet. They all looked at Lisa, the de facto leader in the room. But as soon as she raised an eyebrow, the yelling resumed.

“How does it feel to win bronze/silver/gold yet again, Zhenya/Yulka/Lisa!”

“Is true that Tupincina another version of Eteri Tutberidze, but worse!”

“Are the three of you going to continue the Russian domination for figure skating!”

“Why do you think that you qualify for the Olympics in the next two years, Lisa!”

The last question struck a nerve in the said girl. How dare they try to downplay her skating? Everyone knows that she’s been undefeated so far since figure skating has been held tightly by the Russians.

Yelisaveta felt the entire room’s eyes focused solely on her as well as every camera. The weight on her shoulders was back, the judgemental eyes of the reporter who asked the question, the worried look that was surely plastered on Zhenya’s face, and  the concealed look of smugness disguised as indifference from Yulka.

Steeling her emotions for the incoming onslaught that will come later, the gold medalist answered, “Since I’ve been able to compete in competitions, I’ve been winning through all of them. This is because the judges see my skating as the best out of all of the girls, and that is shown by the point values that I received. And because of this, I may qualify for the Olympics when the time comes, but we just have to see if I’m capable for the next two years.” Humbling yourself was the best way to get out of that situation, but behind closed doors, her coach will likely reprimand her for that. As long as she doesn’t humiliate herself in public, then that’s all Yelisaveta needs.

The rest of the interviews were a whirlwind of emotions: sadness, anger, disgust, fear, envy, smugness, the list goes on. At the end of it, the three medalists only wanted to go back to their hotel to finally relax from the pressure and expectations, even for a few hours.

WW2 photo studies with a touch of color by yours truly 
Listen, I’m not a fan of the ‘Arthur’s grumpy all the time’ hc but WW2 was rough on him. That’s why I believe he tremendously appreciated Matthew’s presence. 
Matthew was one of his main pillars of strength, not so much in terms of reinforcements (though those certainly shouldn’t be overlooked) but in terms of emotional support. He was the one who knew how to deliver bad news and maintain his presence of mind in the face of them. 
Alfred on the other hand went into the war a bit shaken up but quickly regained his composure and even more quickly turned it into confidence. I imagine Arthur acted annoyed at his cockiness but deep down found it reassuring. 
ps The second reference I used was a photo of Roosevelt and Churchill and man those two are a treasure trove for Alfred and Arthur vibes.

An invisible red thread connects those who are destined to meet, regardless of time, place or circumstance. > Revenge of Others (2022)

𝑑𝑜𝑛'𝑡 𝑐𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑚𝑒 𝐵𝑅𝑂𝐾𝐸𝑁 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐞 𝐅𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐄𝐑

Inspired by Matt Beilis’ ‘Call Me Fighter’ and the Blitz of 1940-41.

Happy birthday England, the entire definition of badassery.

Lyria Eclair Graham de Vanily Aesthetic

Over the past 500 years, France has been a major power with strong cultural, economic, military and political influence in Europe and around the world. During the 17th and 18th centuries, France colonised great parts of North America and Southeast Asia; during the 19th and early 20th centuries, France built the second largest colonial empire of the time, including large portions of North, West and Central Africa, Southeast Asia, and many Caribbean and Pacific Islands.

______________

Bastille Day is the name given in English-speaking countries to the French National Day, which is celebrated on the 14th of July each year. In France, it is formally called La Fête Nationale (The National Celebration) and commonly Le quatorze juillet (the fourteenth of July). It commemorates the 1790 Fête de la Fédération, held on the first anniversary of the storming of the Bastille on 14 July 1789; the anniversary of the storming of the Bastille fortress-prison was seen as a symbol of the uprising of the modern nation, and of the reconciliation of all the French inside the constitutional monarchy which preceded the First Republic, during the French Revolution. Festivities and official ceremonies are held all over France.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bastille_Day

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/France

When Nico and Will announced their quest to the camp, their reaction wasn’t all that surprising: everybody had thought they’d gone mad. People didn’t just go to Tartarus and come back with all of themselves intact. In fact, most didn’t come back at all. So for them to willingly go there? Nobody took it well.

Despite that, the campers still bid them goodbye with encouragement and “good luck”’s. As per tradition, the Apollo cabin prepared a shroud for Will. Since Nico didn’t have any siblings at camp, they made one for him, too. As days go by, the campers all wait in silent anticipation and worry for the return of their head medic and the child of hades they’ve grown fond of.

It was on the two week mark when they returned. The campers had a capture the flag game that night, when suddenly, Nico slipped out of the shadows, drenched in blood. Will wasn’t faring any better. They were rushed to the infirmary, where they were taken care of.

The next morning, Nico disappeared into his cabin and didn’t come back. Will brushed everyone off with a reassuring smile, explaining that Nico needed some alone time after what happened at Tartarus. Nobody thought much about it– the son of hades had a lot of demons to deal with after all.

Whatever progress Nico did before their quest was ruined. He reverted back to his previous self, to the Nico who refused to stay with others, to the Nico who hid in his cabin. He barely talked to the few friends he made at camp, either. With every passing day, his eye bags got darker, and his skin more pale looking. Nowadays, he was either in his cabin or reluctantly talking to Dionysus.

It was clear to everyone that Will tried his best to help Nico. He reminded him to eat, to sleep, he was there when he had night terrors, he often urged him to the infirmary if he got a little bit sick. Although Nico wasn’t in the best place mentally, he still managed weak smiles and tight hugs to convey his gratitude to his boyfriend.

Everyone tried their best to make Nico feel comfortable at camp, and not to cross any boundaries. They made sure to pay attention to his mood and what not. So much so, they didn’t notice that Nico wasn’t the only one who changed.

One moment nobody knew, and the next, the entire camp was whispering about it. It started when Austin received a camera from his mother for his birthday. He urged his siblings to pose for a family photo together, under the sun. When the photo was printed, he stared at it with a smile, admiring their happy faces and their shining eyes. That is until he noticed Will.

Will, just like everyone else, was smiling. His grin was wide and almost split his face in half, his left dimple popping out. It would have looked endearing, if it wasn’t for the fact that his blue eyes were dull, devoid of light. If Austin were to cover the bottom half of his brother’s face, his eyes looked even more… unsettling.

During dinner, he noticed it too. His brother talked and laughed just as usual, however, his eyes looked dull and almost… dead. They didn’t hold any emotion whatsoever, as if his laughs and teases were only for show… was it?

Austin talked about it to Kayla. Then Kayla mentioned it to her buddies at the archery range.

Next thing they know, the entire camp would subtly glance at the head medic’s eyes, and their worries were confirmed once they saw the dark and lightless blue staring into the horizon, as if he simply wasn’t there.

Lyria the Demiwitch and Caught In Two Wars Cover:

Prologue and Chapters 1-3 is up now!