VIKTOR KOVACS
Werewolf
alpha
Posts: 62
Played by:
Ange
Last seen Mar 29, 2024 20:04:29 GMT
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Post by VIKTOR KOVACS on Mar 29, 2022 21:26:39 GMT
âWould you like the pink, or the purple?â
The elderly woman in the shop on the square smiled sweetly at him. If it hadnât been for the vagueness in her eyes she would have reminded him of nagyanya. She wouldnât have bothered with the frills. Utilitarian was the only way they could live in a landscape luxury hadnât yet found. You made what you could, scraped the funds together for what you couldnât. Showers didnât come with scented bubbles and endless heat. It was just the way it was.
There.
Viktor stared at her, brows bunching as he shrugged. She giggled, a disconcerting sound that he ended up muttering about. The old lady didnât ask what heâd said, she was busy talking to herself, rattling things around beneath the counter before she popped back up with something violently pink and frothy in her hands. âNem, nem. Ăn Ăgy elfogadom. No bother, I justâŠâ Viktor gestured at her with one hand, encouraging her to slide the box across the counter while he reached for his wallet with the other. Oh, there was the stubborn. Pressing that thin leather case against the edge of the glass counter, Viktor dipped his head down and groaned. Not quick, not just something to use anymore.
By the time heâd made his trio of other stops on the square he was ready to call an end to everything, tossing all that froth and fuss out the window for the fancy people in this town to pick over. It would probably just bite him on the ass that heâd bothered anyway. Viktor grumbled under his breath, pushing away the thought of how much slimmer that wallet was now. The worry that kept it clamped tight had eased, although he would have given almost anything for it to stay tight for just a little longer. Aliz had never been good at listening though.
Letting out a sigh, Viktor slipped through a changing light a moment after he shouldâve done, flipping a hand gesture at the blare of horns he got for it. If she had listened they would have been on the island still. Safe. Not here, in the belly of a beast he still couldnât exactly define. Mystic Falls was not a paradise, even if Harmony was still trying to convince him it was. By now heâd learned not to trust every word out of her mouth ⊠and that bothered him.
The perpetual frown was back as he pulled into the motelâs parking lot. Everything still felt like a game, an eternal chess match â like the ones heâd play with nagyapa that would last days at a time â where he was certainly the pawn and Harmony was the queen, skilfully playing everybody in her territory. Pushing them around, taking them.
It was the middle of the afternoon but the motel was quiet. Half the cars that had been there when heâd pulled out that morning, leaving while Harmony was in the shower â he was not going to listen to her attempts to talk him into it again. Always crooning, always nudging him with those words that could go from honey to vinegar in a heartbeat.
Puppy. Bah.
He watched the cheap net curtains as he pulled into the space closest to their room, the one next to the one Aliz and Eniko were sharing, his eyes only ticking to their door for a split second. Aliz would have had that look, the amusement that had him gritting his teeth and sputtering like one of the fireworks the villagers set off at New Yearâs. It wasnât funny, not when Harmony had him slipping tighter around her finger with every push.
Feeling the ties tighten again Viktor grabbed the boxes from the passenger seat, balancing them lightly on one palm as he approached the room. No movement still, not even when he unlocked the door and slipped in. The form curled on the bed didnât stir. Why bother when it was just your puppy, capable of nothing more than flashing his sharp little teeth. Heâd do more than that today, showing their keen edge before he bit down just hard enough.
It wasnât his teeth he set to her skin as set the boxes down on the bed though. That wasnât traditional, not even if you were a damned communist. Viktorâs teeth bared in a grin, fingers brushing aside the tumbled locks of silky hair to nip in a pinch at her earlobe. Each year of her life counted off with another little tug.
âIsten Ă©ltessen sokĂĄig, fĂŒled Ă©rjen bokĂĄig!â
Tagged: HARMONY * Word Count: 762 Translation: No, no. I'll just take it./God bless you. Live so long your ears reach your ankles!
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HARMONY
Siren
Posts: 111
Played by:
Julia
"You should see me in a crown."
Last seen May 2, 2024 18:40:06 GMT
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Post by HARMONY on Apr 1, 2022 18:17:52 GMT
â watch me make them bow â BIRTHDAYS HAD NEVER BEEN SPECIAL. Perhaps when she was younger, before her mom fucking hated her, she wouldâve been plopped down in a hard, wooden chair at the kitchen table and presented with a cake. Harmony remembered one birthday in particular, but she thought that was only because sheâd seen a photo of it. With her hair in blonde, stubby little pigtails that stuck out at the sides of her head, the grandparents that hadnât yet abandoned them, and an ice cream cake with cookie dough bits in it, sheâd sat smiling with less than a full set of teeth. Cheeks and nose pink, a bit of icing on her face already, and that thin sheen of spit that kids always had on their lips in photos. Scrawled in red gel icing, it proudly proclaimed, Happy Birthday, Jessabelle! and sheâd been truly happy.
She pretended that no part of her missed it.
Becoming Harmony meant losing a lot of who she was, birthdays included. She hadnât celebrated one since before puberty struck her like a trainâbefore her mom began to see her as competition. She told no one. If asked, she spouted a lie, a date in a yearâs time because she knew sheâd never be with them that long. It was a wonder she still remembered it; she hadnât yet come to terms with the fact that sheâd hold onto pieces of herself forever. She would always be the sixteen-year-old whoâd dropped out of school after her mother disowned her; the one that learned French because of countless days spent hiding in the library, who dreamed only of Paris but could never get there.
And now she was stuck. Viktorâs siblings had arrived here, in Mystic Falls, where she was practically keeping him hostage. It hadnât felt like that until now, until they showed up and suddenly wanted to pop the bubble sheâd been happy to live in. On instinct, she made sure the girlsâthe ones who seemed to be a little stronger, a little more in chargeâdidnât like her, and spent every night regretting it since. It was necessary, wasnât it? She kept telling herself it was.
When Harmony awoke, determined to keep this day the same as any other, she disappeared into the bathroom. It wasnât so much to shower as it was to be alone, desperate to collect herself and keep up the ruse that seemed harder and harder to maintain. She didnât want to be different around Viktor. She didnât want Viktor to be different than anyone else.
He already was. Gone by the time she emerged from the steam-filled bathroom, Harmony bent and stood in front of the fridge for a few minutes before deciding to just go back to bed. She had no reason to go out, and there was nothing fun to do in the daytime, anyway. Not without Viktor, her mind added internally, on its own accord, and she pretended not to hear it whizzing through her brain. Sleep. Sleep was easier.
It didnât feel as though sheâd slept for very long by the time her rude awakening came. Soft at first, gentle. A little weight laying on the bed, close, and thenâfucker!
Jolting awake, Harmony wiggled away from Viktor, turned onto her back and shot a glare up at him, hissing out, âWhat the fuckââ One hand darting to the earlobe heâd pulled, she frowned heavily. Blue eyes ticked from Viktorâs to the boxes, then back to him. âHow did youâŠâ She started, but then held back, still desperately clutching the idea that maybe he didnât know. âWhat are those?â And then Harmony grinned, switching tactics, deciding it was easier to make him angry in order to slither out of this. âYou bought me gifts? You really are my little puppy, arenât you?â
VIKTOR KOVACS |
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VIKTOR KOVACS
Werewolf
alpha
Posts: 62
Played by:
Ange
Last seen Mar 29, 2024 20:04:29 GMT
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Post by VIKTOR KOVACS on May 19, 2022 19:43:04 GMT
Heâd marked each of them the year after. At home it had taken that calendar up on the wall and nagyanyaâs quiet chiding to have them all scrawling on paper â or scrabbling together enough coins to pick up a shop bought one when they flew into the town â or rushing around the village, trying to find something that would work for a present in a place where you couldnât just push through one of those glass doors to stare at the cabinets full of glittery things. In the plane, or in quiet corners of the back street bars he would retreat to as he tried to find the darkest parts of the city to see, he would like a match for each of them on the days still ringed in tight red circles in his head. The words they always sung as those few tugs plucked at their ears rumbling out in a voice Viktor knew wasnât tuneful. A candle if he could find it, if not that small light, a prayer following hoarsely, the burn of tears. Years marked they wouldnât see. Aliz was going to expect this as the new year broke in a handful of months. The taste of home that he was giving to her. Viktor had been able to hear his little sisterâs biting tones rolling through his head as he had picked out the gift for the elderly woman to wrap. The woman who lied about being pregnant with his baby? The one whoâd kept them from him with all her lies and games. Bolond. Better a fool than a puppy. Like there wasnât some measure of an apology with this. For Alizâs behaviour, for not having known that they would all show up here, with hurt in their tone and the flash of anger in Alizâs eyes at least. Not too much though. Harmonyâs games had kept him here for months, consuming every thought of leaving. Consuming him. Every move had Harmonyâs fingerprints on it. Which made getting his fingers on her earlobe all the more satisfying. That quick tug, the glare that flashed as she hissed at him. Not expecting it, any of this today. Surprise was going to bite the same way she did, the nip of teeth delivered with that gloss of satisfaction. Viktor smirked, flopping down on the bed beside her, back propped against the cheap headboard, one leg stretched along the edge of the mattress with his boot hanging off â he wasnât all savage. âNot fuck,â he echoed. âSurprise. Boldog szĂŒletĂ©snapot.â Happy birthday their way. Viktor made a low sound in his throat, tipping his head back against the wall to watch her from under those auburn lashes. His lips curled, the equally ruddy beard surrounding them outlining his smirk. âSecret,â he crooned. Fingers had traced the lines of information, Harmonyâs history, who she was on paper at least spread out in front of him while sheâd been out drowning in them. He pushed the thought away as that burst of temper over them rolled back in like music cutting through static on the old radio theyâd had in the workshop at home. âPuppies go shopping?â he asked, winging a brow. âRich puppy maybe.â He wasnât rich, nowhere near close enough to avoid the man in the second shop from looking down at the thin fold of leather in his hands in disappointment. Leaning forward, Viktor placed one gift, the second, down on the bed between them. The larger box, the one with the white chocolate and raspberry cake awkwardly shifted from the nightstand to his thighs. âI take back ⊠if you not want gifts? Cake though ⊠cake stay. Tastes too good to âŠâ Viktor mimed tossing it as he toyed with the edge of the box. He wanted that taste of home, had wanted to share it with her when sheâd never said a word about today. Tagged: HARMONY * Word Count: 654 Translation: Fool/Happy birthday
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HARMONY
Siren
Posts: 111
Played by:
Julia
"You should see me in a crown."
Last seen May 2, 2024 18:40:06 GMT
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Post by HARMONY on Jun 8, 2022 2:07:23 GMT
â watch me make them bow â DID HE KNOW? REALLY? She didnât understand why that made her happy, like she hadn't been trying to hide herself for years. It was clearly a breach of privacy, something to be upset over, not make her suppress a smile like heâd just paid her a compliment.
Maybe the compliment was that he gave enough of a shit to go looking.
He told her it wasnât a choice between them; this was the proof⊠but she couldnât admit it right away.
âFor the millionth time, I donât understand your ugly-ass language.â Harmony puffed, though it sounded more teasing than initially intended. Pushing her palms to the mattress and rising, she stared at him tiredly. The blanket slid off her torso and pooled at her hips, only shifting slightly when she sat up. Rich puppyâsheâd had plenty of those, and even under her spell, they hadnât gone out to retrieve personalized gifts on their own. Harmony swallowed her retort for once, settling cross-legged and facing Viktor, waiting for some sort of explanation.
It wouldnât come. Neither of them liked talking all that much. Not like this.
But she didnât want him to take back the gifts. Well, maybe if they sucked, but she was fooling herself even then.
âWhyâd you get a cake?â Harmony frowned, still pretending like she could deny her way out of this, and opened the second box heâd put down between them. Her brow furrowed as she studied the tan leather, fingertips brushing along the stitching until they popped the button. Peeling the knife from its sheath, Harmony dropped the case and uncurled it, pressing her digit to its point. She hissed at the puncture and brought her finger to her lips, though it healed within seconds. âShouldnât you be⊠wary of letting me have this? Ostorozhnyy?â Grinning playfully, she tucked the blade in again and secured it back in the case. She knew what it meant, and her eyes glittered because of it.
The other box held a gift that was far more feminine. She wouldnât use the word âdainty.â Harmony quirked a brow, raising the necklace to her face, working a finger over it, inspecting the stone. âThatâs kinda bulky, no? A statement piece,â She added the last in Russian, pulling it out by the chain and letting it dangle from her fingers. Her pale blue gaze slid over each link, admiring it for a few long moments until her eyes flicked to his.
She just couldnât help it anymore. Harmony couldnât understand why Viktor, someone she was awful to on a regular basis (and loathed a majority of the time), wanted to shower her with gifts on a day sheâd long forgotten. Her own mother hadnât acknowledged her birthday in years.
Understanding meant nothing, though. Her brain might not have wanted to comprehend it, but Harmony felt itâthe love and care she hadnât received in⊠maybe ever.
Dropping the necklace haphazardly into its box, Harmony rolled onto her knees and pressed her lips to Viktorâs, trying to stop the trembling before it began. This was terrifying, but they were alone, and she was safe with him. Heâd assured her of it time and time again. âKöszönöm.â Harmony whispered against his mouth, smiling wide at the first Hungarian word sheâd ever said aloud. Sheâd picked up a few of them (this one sheâd probably never heard Viktor say), but it felt⊠right. Especially after all this. Maybe it was her way of trying to balance the scalesârevealing that she felt the same, and that she appreciated this.
âPut it on me?â Harmony asked as she drew away, raising the necklaceâs box and turning, still on her knees on the bed, now with her back to Viktor. With her other hand, she pulled all her hair to one side, revealing one shoulder and the bare nape of her neck, almost in offering. She wanted to see what this thing looked like when it was on, and maybe part of her wanted to model it for him, too.
VIKTOR KOVACS | 1: careful/cautious 2: thank you
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VIKTOR KOVACS
Werewolf
alpha
Posts: 62
Played by:
Ange
Last seen Mar 29, 2024 20:04:29 GMT
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Post by VIKTOR KOVACS on Jul 3, 2022 19:41:24 GMT
The ugly-ass language she got enough of when it suited her? Viktorâs smile twitched brighter, his tone affectionate when he shouldâve been growling about fucking communists. âBullshit,â he rumbled softly. Maybe if he hadnât just woken her up those spikes would already be shoved in his direction with the sort of venom that got under his skin and turned these moments of something soft into that raging torment that seemed to please her. He preferred it this way, the barbs just sharp enough to be a tease instead of draw blood, something of Harmony showing that he usually wasnât allowed to see.
As she sat up he angled towards her. Harmony wasnât going to crack entirely, that would be too easy. He still had to work for this, like it meant nothing if it didnât cost him something. The presents certainly had, more than he could probably afford given he hadnât worked anything more than odd jobs here and there, the sort that paid with cash straight in his hand, since the hunters had arrived in the village.
Viktor dangled the idea of taking the presents back in front of Harmony, like he could coax the thank you out of her with a little manipulation. The corners of his lips quirked higher, blue eyes rolling. âBirthdays not proper birthdays without cake ⊠but you no want, I eat. My favourite. Family tradition.â That heâd wanted to share with her. Not raspberries picked from the bushes like they would have back home, cream fresh whipped and the chocolate bought special from the town when they flew out. Kept out of the hands of the kids so it wasnât eaten ahead of time. Heâd missed the taste of that as heâd seen the bakery box the cake up for him â a single square for the chef, hmm?.
Gathering the paper up as she set it aside, Viktor began to fold it neatly, like it was precious. He watched Harmony though, her fingers working up the sheath to extract and open the knife. âSharp,â he said proudly, knowing the sting it wouldâve brought. Heâd have taken her hand, kissed it away, but not with the blade in her hands. There was a certainty in his grin when it came, one ruddy brow rising. âYou no cut my throat when I sleep. Protection. For you.â To use on the men that always came for her. More blood on her skin maybe, more fear to be washed away from shivering limbs in the shower, but she would come back to him.
He set the first piece of paper aside, went to work the same way on the second when that was unwrapped too. Heat rose the high line of his cheekbones with this one. More frivolous in looks at least, but once the charm was on it the necklace would protect in its own way, like the blade. Viktor frowned, reaching out a finger to send the necklace swaying slightly in the air. âIs pretty,â he argued. At least to a manâs eye. The stone had been the important part. âThis for protection too. Protection for you.â It was cool against his fingertip, although he knew the obsidian would warm when it sat at her throat. Like her skin always did for him in the end, so hot against his mouth and fingers when he let himself give in to the temptation.
Warm now. Viktor smiled into the kiss as Harmony rose to knees and pressed her lips to his. The paper crinkled in his fingers as his hand came up to her hip to stop the two of them from crushing the cake. âSzĂvesen, kicsim.â Probably the first time heâd heard her use Hungarian without spitting it like bullets she was trying to pierce him with. âAlex can put spell on, another protection, yes?â Heâd have taken it to his brother first, but heâd wanted to wait until after heâd given it to her. Now Viktor was carefully easing up, scooting forward a couple of inches to carefully grasp the two ends of the necklace. He let the silver trail over her skin, fixing the clasp at the nape of her neck. The backs of his knuckles ran lightly down the back of her spine, his lips pressing just below the clasp for a moment before he inched back.
The heat that had been in his cheeks settled into his throat before he hauled the cake box up into his lap. A shield between the two of them for a moment before he let all this petal softness lure him into something he knew would only grow more thorny if he wasnât careful. He would reach for Harmony and find himself bleeding as she gleefully let himself get cut. âThey put candles ⊠for lighting, blowing out ⊠wishes âŠâ Viktor lifted the lid of the box, tugging a lighter from his pocket. All those traditions stacked atop one another. Each one left him scrambling with the next to cover up that spot inside of him that was only growing more tender. Before ⊠No, not now. He lit each of the candles, bathing the dim room in the light of the candles.
Tagged: HARMONY * Word Count: 869 Translation: You're welcome, my little one
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HARMONY
Siren
Posts: 111
Played by:
Julia
"You should see me in a crown."
Last seen May 2, 2024 18:40:06 GMT
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Post by HARMONY on Jul 17, 2022 20:08:15 GMT
â watch me make them bow â HIS FAVOURITE. HE WAS SHARING A PIECE OF HIMSELF WITH her, and not just as cake. All of thisâthe blade, the necklace, even the act of acknowledging the birthday he somehow knew about⊠it was all a declaration of something Harmony kept trying to ignore. It couldnât be disguised now, not while her eyes glittered with tears and she felt the warm blossom of it in her chest. Family tradition. Heâd held her, promised he wasnât leaving without her, that she was a valued part of his life. Not in so many words, but still. Harmony felt it, and it wasnât contrived like every other relationship in her life. God knows why, but Viktor wanted her for her, not because sheâd imposed it on him.
She snorted wetly at his comment about his sleep safety, then suppressed another when he claimed the necklace was pretty. Harmony loved it; she loved what it meant for them and for him.
That was another thingâhe wanted to protect her. It wasnât his claim on her (though she enjoyed that, too) or that he thought he owned Harmony like the men she poisoned. Viktor wanted her safe because he actually gave a shit, which was more than she could say about her real family. She wondered what it was like to grow up as he didânot only with the responsibilities of being the eldest son, but with a family that truly loved, trusted and supported one another. Sheâd never felt that.
But he gave her a piece of it now, and that teeny, tiny crumb made her heart full in a way itâd never been before. She didnât have the wordsâââin Hungarian, Russian or Englishâto express what this meant to her. Part of her didnât even want to know how heâd found out it was her birthdayâshe found beauty in not knowing. She trusted him.
Harmony could piece together his pet nameâmy little oneâand didnât filter the grin that split her face in two. It wasnât needed, not now, not in this moment. They were bare to one another, expressing love in the only way they knew how. Nobody said it, but Harmony felt it wrap around them like a warm blanket in the winterâit gathered them close, closer than theyâd ever been before.
âYeah,â Harmony whispered, âThat sounds good.â She couldnât wait to see Alexâs face when they askedâheâd probably start grinning like she was now. Feeling his lips, then his knuckles, Harmony stilled under his touch, comfortable enough to stay like this all day. He was gone in a moment, though, leaving her to suck in the thick air and slowly turn back to him.
She settled on the backs of her legs, breathing steadily while she watched Viktor light the birthday candles. Nodding encouragingly at his explanation, instead of making fun of his broken English as she often did, Harmony waited until they were all lit before she leaned in. She considered for a moment, then closed her eyes, wishing for more of this. For Viktorâs family to find safety, a place to rebuild what theyâd lost and, because she could be selfish with a birthday wish, for that new home to include her, too. Tears streamed down her cheeks by the time sheâd blown out the candles, leaning away to beam at him.
âIâll get forks.â She croaked, trying to slide away before it was obvious just how much she was crying. Harmony slipped off the bed and went to the kitchenette, retrieving two forks from the drawer. In a few steps, she was climbing back on the bed and handing Viktor one, leaving enough space between them for him to put the cake down if he wanted. Not bothering to cut traditional slices, she forked off a piece for herself, making sure to get a raspberry with her chunk of cake.
By the time the rich flavour touched her tongue, Harmony didnât know if she would cry harder or be lulled by it. Moaning gently, she was suddenly reminded of all the fancy restaurants sheâd been toâthe cake was a literal taste of the life she used to have. And, surprisingly, Harmony realized she wouldnât trade any of this to get it back.
After another forkful, with her eyes trained on the cakeâpurposefully anywhere but ViktorâHarmony finally spoke, finding the tears had dried, though her voice still sounded wet. âI donât think Iâve celebrated a birthday since I was little.â She hadnât; she remembered the final one with certainty. âI dunno how you found out, but⊠thank you. Again.â She sniffled, adding, âI really love the cake.â As an excuse for why she began to cry again.
âCan we just stay in today? You donât have anywhere to be, right?â Finally, her eyes flicked up to him, hating how gentle she sounded. Like she was pleadingâlike she needed him. âGod, itâs good.â Harmony whispered, filling her mouth with another piece from the same crater sheâd started in.
âMy mom didnât want to do them after a while.â She spoke as though she hadnât made a verbal detour between the first mention of her childhood and now. âAnd eventually my grandparents werenât around to make sure the day was celebrated, so I guess we just⊠stopped.â It was the first time sheâd ever mentioned anything about her life before leaving, before becoming Harmony, and the ease in which it flowed out absolutely terrified her. âShe was a pretty shitty excuse for a parent.â Forcing out a laugh that fell flat, Harmony looked to Viktor, feeling that uncomfortable itch under her skin. She was sharing too much, getting too close.
Instead, she quickly asked, âWhat about you? What were birthdays like for you guys?â Trying desperately to divert the topic.
VIKTOR KOVACS |
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VIKTOR KOVACS
Werewolf
alpha
Posts: 62
Played by:
Ange
Last seen Mar 29, 2024 20:04:29 GMT
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Post by VIKTOR KOVACS on Aug 3, 2022 19:46:15 GMT
She might threaten to, in those moments where she tried to push away just to get him to push in further, but Harmony wouldnât cut him in his sleep anymore than she would leave him. As his grandmother had tied herself to his grandfather in the war torn streets of Buda in the 1940s, he and Harmony had ended up tied together there eighty years later. They could both tug at that tie, see it as a restraint, chains, but the truth was something they werenât going to speak aloud, even on a day like this. It rolled out in those tears instead, the snort Harmony shot him, the things that didnât need to cross the language barrier.
Even Harmonyâs language was softened now though. The threats about the knife, the grumbling about the ugliness of the necklace, all bullshit, like heâd call on her earlier. This was what she should have had, not the violence, the bleeding, the men with their demanding, pawing hands and Viktor was glad he could give it to her. Aliz might not have understood that, Harmony either, but he would keep telling her in whatever way she was going to accept because this didnât end here.
Family. Harmony. All one and the same now. Held onto as tight as he could, that tie snapping tight around his wrists in a way he didnât hate, even if it frustrated her at times. Strengthened with the knife, the necklace, all to stop it from snapping, from him losing her.
Viktor felt his throat thicken at the thought. He had felt his grandfatherâs hand go loose in his, had watched his parents fight even as he took off in the plane. He had lost and he wouldnât again. Alexâs magic would help with that. His brother willingly tying those bonds around his own wrist because he could see. Family.
A kicsikĂ©je. His little one. Beaming at him in a way that had him smiling into the kiss that came with a tenderness the two of them didnât always manage. Warmth, not that scalding heat that threatened to boil him from the inside out. There in his throat as he ran his fingertip one last time along the line of where the silver chain lay against her skin. They could ask Alex later, take them all a piece of the cake, although Aliz would probably look at it as though the raspberries had been laced with something to kill rodents.
This was going to taste like home. Viktor felt the tug in his chest at the thought, picturing his father doing the same with matches. Touching one to each candle before the cake had been swept into the room. Flames glowing, lighting up the excited face of whoever got to blow them out. His eyes rolled up to Harmonyâs as he put the lighter away. âHappy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear Harmony, happy birthday to you.â There was a hitch in the words, his brows furrowing as he switched from the far more clipped single boldog szĂŒletĂ©snapot that it wouldâve been at home. It was then that theyâd have started pulling at the celebrantâs earlobes. Slanting Harmony a grin, Viktor reached up again to give hers a single light tug. âBlow.â Her eyes closed, tears breaking to run down her cheeks before she did as he asked.
He shifted, like he would draw her in and brush them away, but Harmony was pulling away. Hiding it from him. By the time she was back with the forks in hand they were nearly gone. Viktor shifted, the cake box between them, his hand reaching past it to settle on her thigh and squeeze. That silent moment of support. The cake would make it better, like it always did. He angled his own fork, carefully nipping a piece off the other side. He lifted the fork almost into a toast, slipping his slowly into his mouth so he could catch her reaction before he bit down. âGood, hmm?â he prompted, letting out a small sound of delight himself. Almost as good as it had been back home, even if it wasnât his grandmotherâs hands that had whipped the cream or infused it with just that little bit of what she had sworn was magic, but was definitely just love.
All of this was him trying to do the same â not to make Harmony cry, although feelings often made it all one and the same. She wouldnât look at him now, those eyes like a summer sky over the village fixed on the cake and not his as she found her voice. No more tears spilling, not for a moment at least. One corner of Viktorâs mouth hitched up, a blue eye winking. âVarĂĄzslat. Magic.â Really he had seen it in her papers, the ones he should not have pawed through when he found them. They had shown him little parts of her she had held back though, the stark details of a life far more complex, far sadder than that. âYouâre welcome.. Is best cake.â One of the only holdovers from home heâd been able to bring with him, other what he held fisted in his chest.
Viktor leaned in, resting his knuckles on her chin, brushing his thumb under her lip as the fork fell away again. Like he was brushing away a speck of the sweet cream before the backs of his fingers skimmed lightly across her cheeks. âNowhere but here. We stay. Eat all the cake maybe.â A mouthful each left for his siblings, his cousin if they were lucky.
It was like the gifts, the cake, the celebration today, had unlocked something in her that he hadnât expected. Viktor scooped up another mouthful of cake as Harmony spoke, his eyes on her and not the full fork though. The admissions of what life had been like before that grimy alleyway in Buda and the killing of the men he had been sure were going to kill her. âSajnĂĄlom. Ezt neked kellett volna adnia.â What kind of parent wouldnât to do that for their child, to see just a moment of light in their eyes. âA shitty excuse,â Viktor echoed, âbut, still mom.â And that made it all the worse.
Setting his fork down in the box, Viktor shifted on the bed. He hauled it up onto his lap, patting the space next to him as he settled with his back against the headboard and his legs stretched out, where he could slip his arm around her, draw her close enough to soothe that knot in his gut if she would let him. His grin slowly creased his face, his other hand leaving the box long enough to tug at his earlobe again. âTraditional, but always celebrate. Cake ⊠always after dinner, not before. Gifts, all made with âŠâ He wiggled his fingers to demonstrate that they were usually homemade.
âAll family there ⊠most of village. Lots of peach brandy⊠cold, steal your breath.â He puffed his out, like a cloud of vapor would emerge, the way it had done for so much of the year there, even before you were old enough to be allowed to have a glass from the bottle. The last couple of years that had included him, his grandfather winking at him that first time. The memory clawed at his chest now, left his brow furrowing just a little as he reached for the fork again. They were all gone now, almost everybody who had sat around the table then.
Tagged: HARMONY * Word Count: 1264 Translation: I'm sorry. She should have given that to you.
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HARMONY
Siren
Posts: 111
Played by:
Julia
"You should see me in a crown."
Last seen May 2, 2024 18:40:06 GMT
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Post by HARMONY on Aug 23, 2022 16:56:51 GMT
â watch me make them bow â MAGIC. MOST DEFINITELY A LIE, BUT IT WAS EASIER to believe him. Easier to stay stuck in this moment, in these four walls with Viktor, surrounded by a love she couldnât quite swallow. It had to be eaten in pieces, just like the cake. Sickly sweet but unbearably good, all-consuming and, God, it wasnât perfect, but it was for them. It progressed just as it needed to, pushing and pulling at their own pace, and she saw that now. She couldnât see anything but that. Their journey to this very moment. It terrified her just as much as it filled her heart with a warmth that had been long missing.
A day in the hotel room, getting bellyaches over birthday cake? It sounded perfect, almost too good to be true, but they could pull it off. Theyâd be safe hereâkeep the door locked; nobody allowed in or out, just holed up together for hours. They might go crazy and bite each otherâs heads off, but Harmony was keen on maybe taking a nap. Sheâd only just woken up, but as she shifted to his side and tucked her head into his shoulder, she could feel the easy and safety creep in again. Harmony could sleep right here, and sheâd be totally satisfied.
But, still mom.
Was she? Was she ever really a mother? Harmony had come from her, apparently, but was always treated as though she was a tumour her mother had expelled. A burden, costly and ineffective. A nuisance.
Harmony wanted to tell him more. She wanted to explain why she was this way, that she didnât really know what she was until getting kicked out. Her mother didnât want her, not once sheâd become competition. It made sense to not let him close after the one person who was supposed to love and protect Harmony had turned their back on her, right? She wanted to tell him that her name, her mask, wasnât really the one sheâd presented to him.
That Harmony was a fake, a desperate attempt to become someone else after her mother stripped her of all she was. She wanted to be honest with him.
Instead, she asked about his life, about his birthdays, and took another forkful of cake into her mouth. It covered the awful taste of bile and regret. Harmony was stolen from her thoughts when he grabbed her earlobe again. She yelped quietly, grinning even as she lifted a hand and smacked at his. Harmony loved it, reallyâbeing part of some tradition, especially one he shared with his family. Heâd adjusted for today, of course, but somehow that made it more special⊠like theyâd changed to fit one another into their lives. Separate, but similar.
âMmm,â She hummed, âPeach brandy sounds good. I assume you guys made it yourselves?â Harmony shifted on him, nuzzling in. She felt the air change when he mentioned his family, the slight tensing in his muscles. She wondered what it was like to feel that way, to miss a family whoâd loved you enough. Her loss was for something she never had; she wouldnât feel it the same way Viktor did.
She wouldâve apologized for bringing it up, for making him sad, if she were a different girl. But sheâd shared a piece of herselfâdragged it through the mud filling her insides and out her mouth to present it to himâand she deserved one in return. That wasnât the way love worked, but clearly she didnât have great role models. âWhat was it like?â Harmony croaked and, after a moment, realized she needed to expand. âHaving a big family? Knowing they all love you no matter what?â Pulling back only a few inches to straighten her head and look into his eyes, Harmony focused on them, read them. She didnât dip into his mind, but she so desperately wanted to feel it wafting from him.
It was a give and take, right? Something returned for something gained? Sheâd made the rules. â... Iâm not sure my mom ever did. She kicked me out after just one fight, but I think I was always pretty much a burden. When you talk about your family⊠it just seems like you guys were always happy.â They could forgive, at least. Viktor had allowed her that dozens of times, but she liked to string him up for every little wrong move. She wanted to soak up all the love that came from him and pretend it was her own. The little pieces he gave Harmony, when he showed her he loved her, were so overwhelming and amazing all at once. It made her realize what sheâd missed out on, and all the false feelings she forced into everyone else. Viktor had felt and gave it for real, not some cheap, supernatural imitation. Harmony wanted to give back the purest love possible.
VIKTOR KOVACS | wrap soon?
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VIKTOR KOVACS
Werewolf
alpha
Posts: 62
Played by:
Ange
Last seen Mar 29, 2024 20:04:29 GMT
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Post by VIKTOR KOVACS on Sept 2, 2022 20:49:08 GMT
It hadnât been the sort of childhood that was on those awful shows that seemed all the crappy TV in the motel room would play on those afternoons and evenings when Harmony would disappear - white fences, technology everywhere, grocery stores filled with whatever you could want, and those busy, busy schools where everybody knew everybody elseâs business and you could never keep straight one week from the next who was dating who. It had, Viktor supposed, been a different world, one they would have gladly stayed in if the hunters hadnât invaded and destroyed that basic life in an instant.
The first bullet had killed Jaina, shattering a window of the big house on its way out. The blue flowered curtains nagyana had sewn herself fluttering out, like a shroud for her. A grenade falling into the garden, tearing apart the ground that had fed them long before he had even been born. Everything gone now, he imagined, all those little scars their lives had left on the land, most of his family. Only the memories were left to slip from his tongue now. Tiny morsels of what was precious shared with Harmony the same way he planned to share the cake. Each bite iced with what wonder their had been in that hard scrabble existence.
Magic. It had been that, maybe would be again if they could rebuild here. Start with the small, the easy. A cabin in the woods one day maybe, like home. Harmonyâs the face he saw through the window as he approached, all sharp angles like nagyanaâs, that feeling in his chest that he got when he saw that porcupine shell around her crack â almost like when sheâd shed the fur coat at the club â warm, wanting.
Viktorâs thumb rubbed lightly over Harmonyâs earlobe for a moment, pulling it away with a chuckle as she swatted for him. They settled there, wrapped together in the warmth without the need for those spikes to go back up and spear under his skin. He reached for the fork again, studying it like it would offer up some sort of reason for all of that to be wiped out. âMindig.â Always. His lips pursed, his eyes sweeping the room for a moment like heâd find the plain glass bottles of it right there. âLot of families make in Hungary. Drink more than sell.â Although even in wartime there had apparently been a thriving trade, and that network of smugglers had been what had saved his grandparents years later. A route out to what was supposed to be a safe place.
His throat thickened as the fork raked through frosting, a piece of strawberry clinging to the tine. At Harmonyâs croaked question he set it down and looked up. Eyes that burned just a little studied her face that way he had the fork, trying to find an unspoken answer there. One corner of his mouth kicked up, his smile soft, slanting. âIdĆvel meglĂĄtod. Most mĂĄr van egy â Aliz csak a csalĂĄdot ĆrjĂti ennyire.â A truth she would have bristled at, or that would have sent a tear rolling down her cheek. Either way, it wouldâve been the same effect. âBest feeling,â he said hoarsely in the end. âYou drive each other crazy, yes? Argue, so much argument with Aliz, but always made up and you always feel here.â He settled his hand on her chest, over a heart heâd felt race against his fingertips, his lips.
On the island it felt like his had been torn from his chest and left behind in the village. The loss of so many of them a wound that even now was only partially healed. He could feel the edges of it now, carved so sharply against that part of him inside that always ached with it. That part burned now, seared by the words spoken by a woman who wasnât looking to drive him away now. âNot always,â Viktor breathed. âSometimes we fight, we hurt each other, but never without making up. Never a burden to each other.â Not even when Alizâs stubbornness had left her in that hospital bed, recovery taking months. âYour mom ⊠wrong. Youâre no burden. Wanted, yes?â Although now the scene outside the Grill when Aliz and Alex and the others had arrived made more sense. Tossed aside after one little spat. Like Harmony had expected him to do it to her.
Never.
Home wasnât the village anymore, that had been shattered. It was them, her, and she would see it in the end. Drawing her in, Viktor found her mouth with his as he blindly set the cake box aside on the nightstand. Too precious to crush between the two of them as he drew her in, pouring that sentiment into the kiss as he tugged her down to the pillows with him.
Tagged: HARMONY (The End) * Word Count: 809 Translation: Always/Youâll see in time. You have one now â Aliz only drives really family that crazy.
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