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yoificfinder · 4 years

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Hey love, hope you are doing well ✨ I was wondering if you have any recommendations regarding side characters (personality analysis, friendship etc.) I absolutely adore all the side characters in the YOIverse however there are not many fics revolving around them so if you know any good ones, it'd be great!! Thank you so much in advance 💟

Hey dear nonnie! This took a long time, I hope you're still here. I combed through ao3 to find fics I remember that fit your request and discovered new gems along the way! Many of these are not popular/underrated but I guarantee that they're good reads so I hope you (and anyone else who finds this) enjoy! If only for that reason alone, I really hope this rec list becomes one of the most popular posts in this blog (I would really appreciate a reblog!) so these fics/authors can receive more love! Plus this is the most exhaustive and time-consuming rec list I've made so far (but I still feel that I missed a lot so other recs are welcome!).

Without further ado, here are some great YOI side-characters' stories in canonverse:

(Don't) Give A Damn by @forochel [T, 9K]

Mari, through the years.

an open door by tripcyclone [G, 8K]

Lilia never wanted children of her own, but caring for Victor gives her a glimpse into the life she chose to pass by.

Beautiful In Knowing by @val-creative [T, 1K]

Sara knew she was a girl, even if nobody else did or believed her.

She ordered Michele to call her "Lady Sara" from now on. He would roll his eyes and grumble, but never attempt to misgender her. She liked "Sara" — it meant "lady, princess, noblewoman". And she would never go back to her deadname.

by any other name by iguanastevens [T, 2K]

"A rose by any other name would smell as sweet."

Yuri's life as told by the names he's given; or, how Yuri's names direct his life.

Feathers on the Ice by Kiranokira / @kyashin [E, 79K]

After dinner and a bath and quality hamster time, snuggled in bed cocooned within his eight entirely necessary pillows, Phichit indulges himself and investigates Seung-gil's hashtag. There isn’t much from Seung-gil himself, but Seung-gil's fans are many and dedicated. Amid the photos of Seung-gil at competitions or practicing and the few candid shots of Seung-gil in airports or out on the streets of Seoul, there’s a very recent professional video uploaded by user andjoy_studio.

Phichit clicks on it, and his life changes.

fermata by perbe [T, 3K]

When one is patchwork of growth plates and bruises, it is inevitable that one must admire boys with words a size too big, as if they know down to their bones that they are meant for something greater.

I used to burn for you, Otabek thinks.

(A character study on Otabek's reaction to his placement at the Grand Prix Finals.)

Go On Ahead by @kiaronna [G, 2K]

Sour, grouchy Yakov didn’t understand sparkly purple skate outfits or wanting to eat your weight in sweets or having crushes on boys.

But Viktor did.

Gossips, Chinese whispers and misunderstandings by womanroaring [M, 8K]

Series of short stories relating to how certain (often perfectly innocent) scenes in Yuri On Ice would have looked from the outside. And just the gossip and stuff that would have surrounded them.

I am Yuri Plisetsky by rinsled05 / @dreaming-fireflies [M, 1K]

Who is Yuri Plisetsky?

He's not Agape.

Not a “prima donna” ballerina.

And definitely no Russian fairy.

No, Yuri Plisetsky is an angry, loud, in-your-face, Russian tiger who will take to the ice and give you a brilliant gold-worthy performance you will never forget.

... a piece on Yuri's rationale for skating to "Welcome to the Madness". Rated for the actual foul-mouthed language in the story itself, courtesy of one Yuri Plisetsky.

if friends were flowers i'd pick you by windupbirdgirl / @tanpopori [G, 4K]

Yuuko thinks of Yuuri’s skating, beautiful and flawed. She thinks of Yuuri sitting with the girls instead of the other boys at practice. She thinks of Yuuri and Viktor, the posters of him he asks her to buy him for birthdays. The posters he wouldn't ask anyone else to buy.

“Oh, Yuuri.” She bites her nails, ruining the carefully applied polish. She doesn’t care at all.

Sitting in that tiny bedroom, she makes a big decision.

if love is king, who wears the crown by @crollalanzaa [G, 1K]

“Second is seen as nothing,” Christophe had derided.

“But that moment you glide onto the ice, that hush of the audience, and that expectation, isn’t that worth something?”

“You speak as if you know. You used to skate?"

Past tense. It still stung, even if it was expected.

Minako knows exactly what it's like to be at the top of your game, and she remembers the descent just as clearly.

if she wants me by renaissance [G, 6K]

Hiroko and Minako, then and now.

kagura by night by seventhstar / @pencilwalla [T, 1K]

The world around her is like the mountains.

A mortal lifespan is narrow; mortals watch the mountain’s unchanging faces, unravaged by the same measure of time that takes a human from dust to dust, and think them immortal in comparison. But stone erodes, just as flesh decays. It just takes longer.

If she watches long enough, everything changes. Languages drift until all the words she learned before are meaningless. Technology changes until she ceases to believe in magic because human ingenuity is more infinite than the stars. What is beautiful, what is polite, what is wrong, what is right—time, given its way, reshapes all.

But Minako’s body remains as it has always been. That’s why she loves to dance, she supposes; it’s the one thing time cannot take from her.

Katsudon by @azriona [G, 8K]

Hiroko doesn’t need to see to coat pork cutlets in egg and panko. She has made this dish for her family for over thirty years; she’ll make it another thirty, if she’s lucky.

Now she makes it for Yuuri and Victor as they fly home from Barcelona, with silver around their necks and gold around their fingers.

keep me steady as we go by strikinglight [G, 3K]

When Isabella stood and crossed the room to where he sat she saw her notebook open in his lap, turned to the last page of their to-do list, all but three items crossed off with less than a month to the wedding date. License. Ceremony. Everything after. She saw the angle of his gaze, too, not on the words but straight ahead, staring blank and glassy and brittle into some invisible place she still wasn’t sure she could follow him to, yet. And yet she had been the one who’d promised to try—and to keep promising, forever and forever.

Kooks by BoxWineConfessions [G, 3K]

Mari clasps her right hand across her left hand and rests them both atop her growing stomach. “I guess you’re just lucky that your father, I mean your other father, my brother-“ Mari giggles. “God, it all sounds so weird, doesn’t it? Do you care? Do you care that we’re all so fucked up and we don’t care at all?” Mari laughs again. It’s all she can do when she hurts this much, and wants a cigarette this much, but can’t stop smiling despite the fact that her body seems to hate her so much. “Well he means the world to me. That’s why I have you.”

Living in the Maybe by @adrianners [T, 6K]

It wasn’t hard to spot a 180cm platinum blond in Fukuoka International Airport. Especially when he was the only person wearing sunglasses. Indoors. At night.

Mari picks Viktor up at the airport when he returns from Moscow. Without Yuuri there to play his usual role of interpreter, they learn to communicate around their linguistic, cultural, and personal barriers.

post tenebras lux by @alykapediaaa [T, 1K]

“Which skater would you say has inspired your skating the most?”

The question catches him unaware, so much so that he’s rendered speechless. It’s only when he sees Yakov lean towards the microphone to answer in his stead that Yuri blurts out the first name that comes to mind.

“Yuuri Katsuki.”

The Best Men by @kiaronna [Not Rated, 5K]

Just as Viktor lives to surprise, Christophe Giacometti lives to scandalize, to sensationalize. But innocent little Phichit Chulanont is proving to be an impossible victim.

OR: where Christophe tries very hard to get under one Thai skater’s skin, and instead finds himself all over the younger skater’s Instagram feed and wrapped around his finger.

the city of bridges by @stammiviktor [T, 5K]

After three flights, a train ride, and dinner at the Katsukis' table, Yakov finally sees Hasetsu through Viktor's eyes.

The First Cut by BoxWineConfessions [E, 27K]

People made divorce seem like this long drawn out and ugly process, but it really wasn’t. He bought the town home for Isabella as a gift, and so it was hers. The flat down town would go to him, as it was closer to the rink. They paid off her medical school loans last fall, so that was done too. He had a few cars, which she unanimously agreed were his to keep, so long as she could keep her Corvette. She changed her vanity plate from Dr. Leroy to Dr. Yang. He saw it parked out front of the courthouse.

trials of Coach Yakov series by @naraht [T and M, 40K]

Summaries of fics in the series:

1. Forced to share a bed with Victor at the Sochi Grand Prix Final, Yakov learns more than he wants to know.

2. Yakov attempts to prepare Yuri for his transition to Seniors. Yuri doesn't care to listen.

3. No sex while you're competing – this is Yakov's rule. His athletes often have other ideas.

4. In 1980, Yakov Feltsman is the USSR's skating hero. At a dull official reception, he defends his loyalty to the motherland – and makes the acquaintance of a beautiful young dancer from the Bolshoi.

5. In which both Victor and Yakov have to remake themselves – Victor after his first Olympic gold and Yakov after his divorce.

Tz'ror by athoroughlybakedpotato [T, 3K]

Yakov changes much slower than the times do, but steadiness is not always a bad thing.

---

ETA - Other people's rec:

curtain of lies by @mandolinearts

JJ's Bizarre Adventure by Falahime

Landscapes of Spring and Summer by @myyoitrashblog

The Melancholy of Georgi Popovich by Falahime

+ a lot more recs on this reblog!!

Thanks for the rec, @vilchen, @genuine-firefly, @adrianners, and @kaleidodreams! ❤

#yuri on ice #yoi #yoi fic rec #yoi fanfic #side characters

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its-pronounced-quoassoint · 3 years

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Logan!!! On Ice

Did I actually make a Yoi!sanders sides au? Yes. This is purely self indulgent and like I don’t really know if I like it that much. I’m gonna post the first chapter on ao3 too and maybe I’ll keep going if I have the time but just consider this a tentative WIP for now. I kinda want to see if people actually care about this idea and if I can write figure skating scenes well. (I’m trying to broaden my writing abilities) This is like stretching my brain power today but heck it’s gotta happen. Anway!

Chapter 1 - A Man that Surprises

Chapter warnings: Past unhealthy behavior, mentions of depression, crying, swearing, food mention, slight panic attack, minor character death(it’s late so if there are more warnings I should add please yell at me to do so)

Ao3 link here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27851718/chapters/68190586

I hope this is well recieved I kinda like this concept.

Logan Katsuki wouldn’t admit it to anyone but those who knew him well that his inspiration was rather basic. He loved to skate yes, but his reasons for continuing to every time it got difficult? That was something he preferred to keep to himself. Not because it was all too special, it wasn’t and he would admit that if you asked. He kept it to himself because it was more embarrassing than anything else. In interviews he would say that his family, specifically his mother, inspired him to continue his career in figure skating, and while that wasn’t entirely wrong, it wasn’t the whole truth either. Since Logan was young, younger than he can remember, his true inspiration was one person and one person alone. Patton Nikiforov.

The Russian skater was first shown to him by his friend Yuuko when the two had had a sleepover. She was very invested in skating at the time and wanted to show him her favorite. Patton Nikiforov was a man who surprised the figure skating scene with his ambition. He was sociable, passionate, and had found a way to capture a crowd’s attention with a single smile. Patton was everything a skater could dream of being. He worked hard and always kept a smile, you could simply tell he loved doing what he did. Logan couldn’t tell which part of that he envied most. It was after one of Patton’s performances where he won gold that Logan knew what he wanted. He wanted to be the best damn figure skater he could possibly be.

However, you don’t always get what you want and Logan had learned that many times throughout his career. His dreams started getting smaller. From winning gold, to silver, to being on the podium, to just simply making it in the same rink as Patton. And now, he just wanted to hide.

A terrible set and a terrible performance was the push that Logan needed to go over the edge. He was done. He was ending his career as a 23 year old skater with little to his name. He didn’t know what he was going to do, maybe he’d work at his mom’s bathhouse, or maybe he’d do ice skating lessons for the kids in his town, but whatever it was, he was going to do it at home. Surrounded by his family and friends. The past year had been the most difficult for him when it came to his mental and physical health, and Logan knew he couldn’t go on in those habits. Skating was no longer fun, he could no longer smile while he performed unless he forced it and Logan had to stop before it hurt him to the point of no return.

It was the night before his flight home and he was supposed to be resting, but his friend Phichit was going on the ice and Logan wanted to be there to cheer him on, no matter how much it hurt. Phichit and him had met in Detroit where they trained and eventually got the same coach. Phichit was the only fellow skater that Logan had ever really considered a true friend, on or off the ice. His caring Thai friend had done his best to keep Logan from retiring, but he could see what it was putting him through.

Logan knew he was going to miss some things about skating, but his decision was final. When Phichit’s performance was over Logan made his way as fast as he could to meet him. He’d made a few mistakes but his jumps were wonderful and he’d picked himself up, never losing his momentum.

“You did an excellent job!” Logan told his friend. “I’m proud of you Phichit, really.”

“Thanks Logan.” Phichit laughed. Logan handed his friend a small bundle of daisies, his favorite. “Lo, are you sure I can’t get you to stay? I-I know that it’s been tough but you're still so young, you can do so much.”

“I don’t wanna talk about that Phichit. I just, I don’t have much left for me here.” Logan sighed. “But you on the other hand! You’re full of talent and potential. I can’t wait to see you do so much more.”

“Oh come on.” Phichit looked away, embarrassed.

“I’m serious. And now that I’m out, well, expect my mother to send you all sorts of gifts. She was texting me during your entire performance, she loved it.” Logan said, pulling out his phone. “Just read, if you thought I knew how to flatter you should learn where I get it from.”

Phichit took the phone with a smile and began reading the messages eagerly. He wasn’t much younger than Logan, but he sure acted like a little kid whenever he was praised. While Logan Looked around the room of skaters exiting the Detroit rink and crowds outside awaiting their favorites he couldn’t help but smile. This was something he hadn’t quite decided whether he missed or not. Logan was never a sociable person, so after he’d almost dropped off the grid he was unsurprised to find he hadn’t made that much of a mark. No matter what he did he would never have the impact on the world like Patton Nikiforov had. Still, that fact simply didn’t sit right with him.

“You did good I don’t understand why you’re sulking.” A voice said to Logan’s right. A voice that was familiar to Logan, but now, in a sort of bitter way.

“Whatever.” A different person replied.

Both had russian accents and Logan knew he had not mistaken what he’d heard. Sure enough Patton himself was walking beside a fellow skater. Logan couldn’t really help himself, he just stared. He’d seen Patton a myriad of times before, but it never meant Logan got used to him. Tall, pale, silver hair, bright electrifying blue eyes, shapely jaw, perfect lips, oh Logan had always been terrible at playing straight and Patton Nikiforov certainly had never made it easier.

“Your steps could use some work but I think that comes with strength training-”

“Oh my god who cares? I know what I did wrong, it's already over.” The other russain beside him groaned. “Could you quit nagging me, you’re not my dad.”

“Virgil shut it!” The coach that they’d been walking towards bellowed. “You are an ungrateful brat, don’t you dare talk to-”

Logan wasn’t listening anymore. He’d spaced out, no longer really knowing what his surroundings were, just that he was standing, that everything felt heavy. His feet were like cinder blocks and his legs couldn’t hold the rest of his body up. This wasn’t the first time he’d done this. Found himself removed from the rest of the world. In fact he’d been doing it a lot lately.

“Lo?” Phichit’s voice pulled him out of his stupor. “Uh, here’s your phone back.”

“Oh,” Logan finally pulled his eyes away from Patton, just as he thought his gaze had been met. But no, he must have imagined it. “Thanks.”

“You okay?” Phichit asked.

“Sorry, did you want a picture?”

Logan turned around, and found yes indeed he had been right. Patton Nikiforov had caught him staring and asked him if he wanted a picture, whether it was a habit he’d picked up from years in the spotlight or whether it was to save Logan the embarrassment. Logan stepped back, he’d always wanted to meet Patton, talk to him, but something about this felt wrong. It felt so very wrong and Logan hesitated for one moment more before stalking forward, past Patton, past the moody kid, past the yelling coach, and past Phichit who was calling his name.

He didn’t stop until he was in the bathroom, the red stalls seemed so tall once he’d entered one. It almost felt like they were growing, surrounding him, overwhelming his senses. This wasn’t the first time Logan had cried, in fact it was one of many times that he’d sat and cried his eyes out. It was familiar to him. Too familiar. His eyes burned as his tears fell and he tried wiping at his face but Logan’s soft cheeks only felt raw under his hands. He hissed from the pain and ran a hand through his hair instead. Pulling at it harshly. Logan had never understood when people talked about ‘crying so hard no sound comes out’ but in this past year he felt that phrase ring true, deep in his bones.

“Logan?” Phichit had followed him, he was walking through the bathroom before stopping at Logan’s stall. “Hey are you okay?”

Logan knew if he tried to respond no sound other than pathetic cries would come out so he clamped his mouth shut.

“Okay uhm, you really shouldn’t drink the water in here so I’m gonna go get you some and then we’re gonna get out of here. Don’t worry it’ll be okay.” And with that he was gone. Logan flinched a little when the door slammed shut and he cursed himself for doing so.

He had never liked feeling so fragile, so insecure. It was something he had buried long ago and since his tremendous failure last season it had been let loose, left to encompass Logan’s being. As he began rocking back and forth, Logan’s stomach clenched in a torturous way. He heard the door squeak open once again and he covered his mouth, attempting to stifle any indication that he was crying. However when the pair of shoes stopped in front of his stall Logan knew he’d been caught. He just wasn’t sure who was there. Those were in no way Pichit’s shoes and he didn’t recognize them as anyone he knew who was there. He didn’t have too much time to figure out who they were however because one of the feet had apparently decided to kick Logan’s stall door aggressively. Logan was startled back and had to take several deep breaths before standing up tentatively and opening the door inward, facing this angry person-Logan all but hoped he wouldn’t kick Logan the way he had that door.

“Sorry I-” Logan stopped.

It was a kid. Well not a kid kid. But now that Logan had a good view of his face he knew who he was. Virgil Plistesky, the junior grand prix gold medalist. The junior grand prix had been earlier in the evening and it didn’t shock Logan that many of the competitors stayed to watch the older group as their season came to a close. This kid though, Logan couldn’t stop hearing about. Like his fellow russain skater he was an outright prodigy. He was aggressive and had a distinct style, not to mention the huge fanbase of young girls that fawned over him with more ferocity than Logan could comprehend. He wasn’t exactly intimidating, he was short, skinny, almost unnaturally pale, and had blonde chin length hair that did nothing but make him look young. The expression he held however, was nothing short of a placid face masking petty unadulterated rage.

“I’ll be competing in the senior division next year.” He said, practically snarling. He pointed a harsh finger at Logan’s face. “I’d rather not have to waste time watching your fat ass perform. So I came here to thank you for retiring.”

Virgil moved his hand back, swishing his hair out of place just in time for Logan to see his bright green eye glint before being covered again. The other eye, a pale brown color, looked at Logan similarly. No matter how bland a look he tried to leave Logan with, his eyes revealed just how angry he was. Everyone’s eyes did.

“Loser.” Virgil whipped around, the bottom of his sweatshirt flying around to hit Logan in the stomach before he walked out. Something about his pace had changed, like he’d let a little weight off his shoulders.

Logan didn’t know what to do. He was stunned for sure, no one had really spoken to him like that, let alone a teenager. Though he supposed he deserved it, he was rather easy to make fun of and teenagers weren’t entirely known for their compassion and empathy. Still, Logan had stopped crying, you’d expect those words to cut someone deep, ruin them even, all it did though was make Logan curious. Then it hit him.

“That poor kid.” Logan said to himself. “He just won the international junior grand prix and neither of his parents were here to see him.”

It was no wonder he was so upset. He’d simply needed to get frustration out, and as stated earlier Logan was easy to poke fun at.

“Lo?”

“Phichit?” Logan turned to see his friend carrying a water bottle and pretzels.

“You-you’re okay?” He asked, heading toward Logan and offering him the water.

“Yeah.” Logan said.

. . . 1 . . .

“Logan is that you?!”

Oh how Logen wanted to run.

“I’d recognize those square-ass glasses anywhere!” Okukawa Minako, Logan’s former dance teacher and now close friend greeted him happily.

Logan walked toward her though every instinct told him to book it in the other direction. It wasn’t that he didn’t like her, it was just that explaining to his biggest supporter that he was the most depressed he’d ever been wasn’t exactly a conversation he wanted to have.

“Oh come on, give your aunty Minako a hug dammit!” She didn’t wait before pulling him into a bone crushing hug. Even with all the weight he’d gained her hug still felt like he was being squeezed to his limit.

“It’s good to see you again Minako.” Logan said with a little difficulty.

“You bet it is! God it’s been forever! Since you’ve been gone so much has happened.” She pulled back finally and stood in front of him, posing a little. “Yuki had her third kid, that one bathhouse closed, and I got even hotter!”

Logan laughed with her and the two began making their way out of the airport and to her car.

“Everyone is so excited to see you Lolo.” She told him. “Your mom’s been making herself sick with all the worrying she’s doing over you.”

Logan didn’t say anything. One of the worst parts of this past year was knowing just how terribly his family must have been feeling during this time. That had been one of Logan’s main reasons for coming home at all, he didn’t want his family to worry over him any longer. And if he were with them more surely they’d know he was fine.

“You know Yuuko hasn’t stopped talking about you coming back today. You should go see her some time.” Minako said softly.

“I’m really tired Minako, I don’t know.”

“Yeah.” Minako sighed. “Just, ya know, try. I know it’s a lot right now and you’re probably nervous about your appointment coming up but if you can, please, just go see her. She’s giving you space cause we all know you need it, but she can’t wait for you to meet her girls.”

Logan nodded. He knew he’d try. Yuuko might as well be his sister at this point. Going to see her would probably make him happy, he just had to think of what he could possibly say. He was never the most eloquent of talkers. Thinkers yes, but translating his thoughts into words, no longer his specialty.

“How’s mom and dad been?” Logan asked.

“Well.” She said, flipping on her blinker and making a right turn. “As well as they can be anyway. With all the bathhouses closing around town it makes sense that they’re a little worried. I think they’re the only one left.”

“So it’s the bathhouses that are worrying them?” Logan asked, full well knowing the answer.

“No.” Minako’s hands fidgeted just a bit on the wheel before she sighed and stared forward.

Logan never liked this. A year and half ago Logan’s younger brother Itsuki had died in a car accident. While Logan’s father was left paralyzed from the waist down, his brother had been taken from their family and his name had become almost taboo. Logan wished he could just say his brother’s name without it bringing his father or his mother to tears. Itsuki had been the most wonderful supporter through his skating career despite having no interest in the sport and when he died while Logan was in the middle of his season it broke him. Logan however didn’t like to blame his failures on his brother’s death. That felt wrong, dishonest even.Logan didn’t want to excuse his behavior on a tragedy, he wanted to pretend like it had never happened at all. Though that wasn’t exactly the right answer either, it certainly hurt less.

When they arrived at Logan’s parents’ home Minako and Logan hopped out, heading to the front door. Logan thought perhaps his own tentative behavior may have rubbed off on his friend.

“Momma Lo your son is home!” Minako shouted with a smile.

“Oh my baby!!”

“Mother” Logan greeted

Logan and his mother embraced each other. Her hugs were always the same. Always warm, always welcoming, never overwhelming.

“Oh my dearest how I’ve missed you.” She cooed, fluffing his hair. “I made your favorite food to eat tonight and your room is all ready for you to move back in.”

“Thanks momma.” Logan smiled at her.

“Oh don’t thank me, you thank your father when he gets home. Now I want my boy to go rest up, take the rest of the day to say hi to your friends and eat and sleep. I want you to do nothing more so tomorrow you’re all ready for your appointment and you can put all this sadness behind you.” She said simply.

“I love you.” Logan said, not really knowing what else to say.

“I love you too. Now head to bed you must be so jet lagged.” She pulled back and started hurrying him off. “And you missy! You look wonderful!”

“Oh thank you momma!” Minako laughed, giving Logan’s mother a kiss on the hand.

“I thought you’d be so much more bloated considering how much you’ve been drinking.” Logan could still hear his mother smiling as she said that and he hurried off, not wanting to know Minako’s reaction.

Logan made his way to his bedroom and placed his bags down at the foot of his bed before heading back down the hallway. When he entered the small room Logan wasted no time sitting on the pillow that had been placed in the center. He looked forward at the picture on the mantle. Itsuki, he was fifteen and he was smiling so widely as he held Patton, their family’s brown poodle. Logan lit the tall candles that surrounded the picture and sat back on his heels.

You would hate me if you knew me now, Logan thought, you would never listen to an older brother like me. I just want to make you proud. How do I make you proud?

“So you came home eh?”

“I did Mari.” Logan replied. He could smell the smoke of her cigarette and turned to see her leaning against the doorframe.

“Good. It was getting real shitty without you around. No matter how depressed you are.” Mari gave him a wry smile. Logan’s sister was always blunt with him. Never surprising. Logan needed that right now. “Want a smoke?”

“No, I shouldn’t.” Logan shook his head.

“C’mon, you and I used to smoke all the time as kids, you didn’t get addicted then, I think you can have a puff.” She gestured to him with her cigarette.

“That stuff kills you Mari.” Logan told her.

“Hey, grandma Ami lived to be 103.” She rolled her eyes.

“She smoked?” Logan asked.

“No she minded her own business.” Mari chuckled.

It was Logan’s turn to roll his eyes, but he got up and walked toward his sister anyway.

“I’m sorry I’ve been gone, I should’ve come home the second he-”

“No.” Mari stopped Logan. “You should have come home when you decided to quit. But you didn’t. And it’s painful to see what this past year has done to you.”

Logan looked away in guilt.

“But that doesn’t matter.” Mari gave him a sideways smile. “You’re here now aren’t you. Even if a piece of you is still on that ice, you’re here. And you’re getting better. All that matters now, is that you’re getting better. You should jump in the hotsprings before dinner, trust me you need it.”

Logan let the room be silent. He looked back at the picture of his brother, he was so young, and could have done so much more than Logan would ever dream of achieving. Logan had asked himself why it wasn’t him, why his brother was gone and he was still there. Asking the question again almost felt normal to him. He wanted to ask his sister if that was supposed to feel normal. He didn’t.

“I think I’ll have that smoke now.” Logan said instead.

. . . 1 . . .

Hasetsu Kyushu was an island town, mostly a tourist destination nowadays but it was a nice place to grow up nonetheless. The castle town was surrounded by beautiful waters and while the castle itself was no longer home to royals, it was still a marvelous sight to behold. Now with Logan’s family being the only ones to offer a hot springs stay Logan hoped his family would start making a lot more money.

As it turned out, sitting in the hot springs to think was exactly what Logan had needed. Not only was he ready for the rest of the day, he knew what he was going to say to Yuuko once he saw her again, and he was finally relaxed enough to head into the common area, though it was just for a bit.

“With group two now finished skating we look at the scores and see-”

“Oh Logan, Logan, Logan,” Minako slurred her words just a bit as she watched the figure skating championship. “I wanted to go to this grand prix so bad, if only you’d kept at it! You could give me all their room numbers!”

“So you support me cause it makes it easy for you to hit on hot boys?” Logan asked as he was passing through.

“Hey now! Just cause it’s one of the reasons I support you, it’s not all the reasons!” She thrust her drink at him before pulling it back to sip.

Logan watched on the tv as the skaters were preparing themselves for the upcoming finale. Of course they were mostly focused on Patton. He hadn’t even put his skates on yet, he was just running through the top half of his routine but he looked so graceful doing it, it was hard to look away. Logan pulled himself out of the trance however, and left the room, Minako still rambling on about all the hot boys and other patrons getting thoroughly uncomfortable with it.

Logann stepped outside into the cold air, night was just beginning to set and buses weren’t still running. That didn’t matter however, it had been a long time since Logan had walked to the ice rink, he wanted to know what had changed.

“Leaving already? I thought you wanted to be home.” Logan’s mother gave him a smile, she was carrying boxes in through the back door and Logan put his bag down to help her.

“I’m just going to see Yuuko mom don’t worry.” Logan told her, lifting one of the boxes and walking it toward the others.

“I don’t worry about you. I worry for you.” She told him softly. “I just want you to be happy baby, and I know what makes you happy. I’m just afraid that you don’t.”

“I guess I’m still trying to figure that out.” Logan offered. He thought he’d found what made him happy, but he must not have, afterall here he was.

They were finished with the boxes and Logan grabbed his bag, waving goodbye to his mother and beginning his trek to the rink. Maybe figure skating wasn’t making him happy anymore, but he knew seeing Yuuko again like this would. As he jogged he found not much had really changed. Some of the trees were newly planted, there was a restaurant where Logan remembered a general store being, but he was sure the restaurant was nice. When Logan was little he’d always thought his home was one of the most beautiful places ever, and even with all his travelling he still thought it was truly a sight to behold. Even when it wasn’t.

Logan reached the rink as it seemed the last of its guests were leaving. He went inside with a smile, he couldn’t wait to show her.

“Hello?” Logan called when he couldn’t find anyone at the desk.

“Sorry we’re closed for today! We open at eight am tomorrow though so-” Yuuko stepped in from her office holding a pair of skates. “Logan!”

“Hey Yuuko.” Logan chuckled as she practically launched herself across the counter to give him a hug.

“Oh how’ve you been?!” Yuuko asked excitedly.

“Alright.”

Yuuko gave him a look but didn’t press any further instead stepping back and searching for something. “You wanna skate right? I’m guessing no audience is sorta your thing right now. Go on!” She finally found what she was looking for and started leading him toward the rink, though he already knew.

Yuuko had been the figure skater of the town ever since they were little. She was the one who’d helped get Logan into it in the first place. He remembered being a little boy trying out his skates for the first time, watching Yuuko as she danced across the ice, he wanted to be just as beautiful as her one day. She was very invested in Patton’s career when they were younger, she’d even shown him an article about Patton’s dog that inspired Logan to ask for a brown poodle nonstop until he and Itsuki got one. Logan laced up his skates quickly and hopped out on the ice. Yuuko standing on the other side with an encouraging smile. He handed her his glasses and gave her a small smile in return.

“I’ve been practicing this routine a lot.” Logan told her.

Yuuko nodded, she had a careful smile.

Logan skated swiftly to the center of the ice, taking his beginning stance and breathing in one fast breath before letting his arms up and bringing them down gracefully around his head as he turned. Yuuko’s gasp told him that she recognized the set. He knew she would. Logan pushed himself forward, following his arm as it reached out, before he turned to his left and wrapped his arms around himself again. When he reached towards the sky once more he let himself drop to one knee and then fall a little to his side, using the momentum to pick himself up and swing his legs around, he went forward and back again in a figure eight motion before pushing himself up and spinning as many times as he could, it was supposed to be a quad but Logan wasn’t sure he’d gotten enough rotation, no matter, he landed wonderfully and spread his arms out skating back before turning 180 degrees and pushing off again. His arms once again taking a grateful place around him, following his movements with freedom. As he pushed his leg out a little behind him, Logan used that force to push himself up into a quadruple flip. This time he knew he’d made it.

Logan reached his arms out in front of him as if to embrace someone as he skated back before turning once more and performing another jump and a series of ballerina like spins. When the beat came Logan let his arm down and spun himself in place, right let out making a perfect 90 degree angle, he held that for one more beat before dropping slowly down and then putting himself back up, his arms behind his back, still spinning in place when he let up one final time he used that motion to go back on his skate. When he went forward once more he was following his arms, reaching for something the music in his head was calling for, something the music told him he couldn’t have. He skated softly a little bit longer before leaping from one skate to another, then doing it again before falling into a sit-spin that lasted for a couple seconds before standing back up again and turning.

This song had always been a somber one, Logan had never been fond of somber songs until he performed this one. As he did more graceful spins around the rink before once again attempting a quad. As he came back down Logan let his arms guide him, let his longing guide him. Then finally he propelled himself forward gaining enough speed to hop up and spin in the air, then dropping back down only to hop up once more and spin again. He pulled his arms back to his sides as he came down, and spun a bit before lifting them up and stretching out, spinning like a ballerina once again. He continued spinning forward and back, letting himself get wrapped up in the music only he could hear. After repeating his motions a few times he hopped up into a triple lutz and then a triple flip. Now he stood before Yuuko, he reached his hands out and smiled at her before pulling himself back and into a quadruple toe loop and then a triple toe loop right after.

Logan had done it, he finished his quads and now all that was left was his graceful spin that led him up into a few jumps before he spun with his arms above him one last time, bringing them down and crossing them, his head up in the air and his arms triumphant by his chin. The music ended. Logan could now only hear his intense breathing as he held his pose. He felt his cheeks growing hotter and hotter the longer he stood like that. From the side he could hear Yuuko breathing a little hard as well. Logan let his arms down and looked at her, he saw his friend with her hands covering her mouth as small tears pricked her eyes.

“That was,” Yuuko slammed her hands down. “Incredible!! Oh my god you’re amazing Logan!! That was practically a perfect copy of Patton’s routine!!”

Logan skated toward her and smiled.

“I thought you’d be too upset to skate again.”

“I was.” Logan admitted. “But I don’t know. My mother said she wants me to find what makes me happy, maybe I can get back the happiness that skating used to bring me. Remember copying all of his routines in the past? It had been so much fun for the two of us, I just wonder if I can find that again.”

“I know you will Logan, even if you think you won’t.” Yuuko told him, her hand softly rested on his.

“Wow you got really fat!”

Logan was startled, he hopped back a bit at the aggressive voice before seeing Yuuko’s annoyed expression.

“You’re retiring?!”

“Have you really never had a girlfriend?!”

Logan didn’t know who on Earth was asking him these questions but when he saw three little faces try to poke above the barrier he rolled his eyes and skated back over to them.

“Logan, my girls, Axel, Lutz, and Loop.” Yuuko said, her exhaustion came back quickly. “They’ve grown quite a bit since you’ve been gone.”

“They sure have.” Logan said, looking down at them.

“They’re getting rude.” Yuuko pouted a bit. “They’re sort of groupies now though.”

“They’re your biggest fans.” Logan recognized that voice. Nishigori, Yuuko’s husband, walked over to the group and gave Logan a pat on the head. “You can come by the rink any time to practice!”

“I think I might take you up on that.” Logan said.

“Yay!” One of the triplets giggled.

“You got this Logan come on you can’t quit now!” Another told him forcefully.

. . . 1 . . .

“Ugh!” Logan was awakened by a rather gruff voice at his bedroom door, the light had barely shown through his windows. “Logan you were out late last night I didn’t get to see you!”

“Go away Minako I need to sleep!” Logan shouted at his door.

“Nooooo!” She yelled back. “Let me in!”

“If I don’t get the optimal amount of sleep I will be distrubed all day now please leave me alone!”

“You didn’t even see who the winner of the grand prix was! Ya know, the winner of the season you didn’t qualify for!” Minako said through the small crack between his door and its frame.

“Minako please go away.” Logan begged.

“It was your boyfriend Patton!” She cooed.

“Yeah no shit! That’s kind of how he works!” Logan yelled. “Winner of everything.”

“You know sometimes,” Logan heard Minako slump against his door. “I can’t tell if you have a crush on him or you hate him!”

Logan didn’t give that a response. He knew the answer. And sober Minako did too. Well, he supposed if he let Minako in his room and she saw all of his posters of Patton she might know, but that wasn’t about to happen.

“Maybe you just really wanna hate-fuck him ya know?”

“Minako! Please I will do anything if you just go away!” Logan sat up in his bed and yelled at the door.

“Become a skater again!”

“Anything but that!”

“Boooooo!” She shouted. He could hear her continuing to boo him from the other side of the door until the sound faded and was replaced with a small snoring.

She’s asleep. Logan realized, laying back down in his bed. He didn’t get back to his state of sleep from before, but he did spend a nice relaxing time staring around at his posters. Maybe he was never going to see Patton again, and he knew that was perfectly fine. He just didn’t know why on Earth that lump in his throat was aching so bad at the thought.

When Logan’s alarm stirred him he finally got out of bed and started getting himself ready for the day. He’d promised his father he’d help around the bathhouse, and one look out the window told him it had snowed-strange but not completely insane-and shovelling was going to be his main priority. After bundling himself up well Logan opened the door and was surprised when Minako’s body slammed into the floor, until he remembered earlier that morning.

“Ow! That really hurt!” She complained.

“That’s what you get for waking me up so early.” Logan told her.

“Hey I have a hangover too.” She said, rubbing her head.

“Oh who could have guessed that would happen?” Logan said in mock surprise.

“Ha ha, whatever.” She crossed her arms. “You look like a character in a disney original Christmas movie so shut up.”

“For your information I’m dressed like this because it snowed and someone needs to do work around here.”

“For your information,” She mimicked Logan terribly. “I don’t care. Get me an aspirin please?”

“Maybe.” Logan said, walking past her.

“Ooo wait, change that to an orange soda with crushed aspirin around the rim of the glass.”

“Definitely not.” Logan gave her a little wave and continued walking into the main area.

The snow had piled high against the doors and Logan had to tromp through it to get to the shack where the shovels were stored. Once he retrieved it he started shovelling along the path from the shack to his home and then made it halfway to the door that led the family into the bathhouse when he was summoned by his friend yet again.

“Logan Katsuki get your ass over here now!!! What the hell is this!?!” She screeched.

Logan turned to Minako who was racing toward him, her phone out.

“What’s what?” Logan asked.

Minako stopped in front of him, shoving the phone to his face and pressing the center of the screen. Logan watched with wide, startled eyes as he saw himself from yesterday, skating at the rink for Yuuko. He watched himself move for a second longer in shock before snatching the phone from Minako and scrolling through all the media she had.

“You thought you could go viral without me you shit weasel!?! She shouted. “You said you were done skating what the hell!!”

“I-I am!! I don’t know how this happened!! I didn’t do this!!”

“What do you mean you didn’t do this! That’s you skating right there! Getting millions of likes and shares!”

“I know that Minako, I mean I didn’t post this-wait did you say millions?” Logan deadpanned.

“Yes! Can’t you read smart ass? That right there says millions.”

“In a few hours?” Logan asked, startled.

“I’m sorry do you not know how insane the people that watch figure skating are?!”

“It’s been a while okay!”

“Arghhh!” She huffed in frustration. “I can’t believe you!! How on Earth did you even manage this!? Oh wait, hang on I’m getting a call.”

Logan watched as Minako plucked the phone out of his hand before he could read the caller ID. She answered it and listened for a few seconds before sighing and handing the phone to Logan.

“I’m so sorry!!” Yuuko’s voice could be heard over the phone.

“What?” Logan asked.

“I didn’t know the girls had taken a video and when I woke up this morning my twitter had blown up! They posted the video they took of you skating last night! I had no idea!” She said apologetically.

“Well that’s one of my questions answered.” Logan sighed.

“Logan!!”

Oh what is it now, he thought, exhaustion already setting in and the day had barely started.

“C’mere baby I need you to help me with this.” His mother yelled from the bath house.

“Coming!” Logan said.

“Lo I swear we’re gonna take it down!” Yuuko assured him.

“As if! I bet there’s already been like fifty fancams of him made!” Minako cackled. “Hold on.” She grabbed her phone back again and said a goodbye to Yuuko before typing away quickly.

Logan shuddered as he made his way to his mom. Once inside the warm bath house he took his large coat off and walked to his mother at the front desk.

“Oh dear I need you to read this amount for me.”

“Mom just get reader’s glasses.” Logan sighed.

“No! Unlike you, glasses make me look old.” She snapped.

“They do not.”

“Yes they do! You look fetching in glasses baby, but I just look like a grandma!”

“You could be a grandma.” Logan told her.

“Please, your sister smokes and you’re gay and hate kids. I could never be a grandma.” She said, moving aside so Logan could punch in the numbers.

“I don’t hate kids.” Logan defended.

“The only small thing that you would ever take care of is a dog! And dogs do not count as kids.” His mother told him. “Logan do you remember telling me when you were a teenager that you would drop-kick a baby?”

“Mom that was one time and I never actually did it.”

“No but you thought about it! I could see it in your eyes!” She said, waving her hands spookily. “You were also going through your emo phase. Remember that?”

“Yes, yes I do.” Logan sighed.

He stepped out of the way of his mom and walked to the other side of the counter, looking at the newspaper until he heard a dog’s barking to his right.

“Oh speaking of which!” She laughed.

Logan turned to see a brown poodle bounding its way toward him until it knocked Logan on his but and placed its paws on his chest, licking Logan’s face excitedly.

“There’s a man here with a dog! He’s going to be staying with us for a while now.”

“Thanks for the heads up.” Logan said, finally getting the dog to stop licking him and sitting up. “You look so familiar.”

“He looks just like our old Patty don’t he!” Logan’s dad yelled from his place at the table, his dad’s friends also sat around, all of them appeared to be playing a card game. Logan always thought it strange that these old men bet so early.

“Yeah.” Logan said, grabbing the sides of the dog’s face and looking at it. “But, it’s something else. Wait a minute!”

“Now you’ll find this funny,” Logan’s mom started up again. “Her owner looks just like that man on the posters you have in your room.”

“Wha-what?!” Logan exclaimed.

“Yes yes, he’s in the hot springs now if you’d like to go see for yourself.”

Logan had never bolted up so fast in his life. The blood rushed to his head painfully but he found he didn’t quite care. His legs moved him through the men’s shower area, though he slipped quite a bit on the wet floors, and Logan threw open the doors to the hot spring so fast he was momentarily worried he’d broken something. When Logan’s face hit the crisp cold he whipped at his glasses trying his hardest to get the fog off, and when he looked over, he swore he was still dreaming. This wasn’t happening.

“Pa-Patton?” Logan stammered. “What?”

“Hello Logan.” The man stood, his half-naked body came out of the water and he extended an arm in Logan’s direction. “Starting today, I’ll be your new coach. You’re going to get to the Grand Prix final. And you’re going to win gold.”

“What!?!”

Patton Nikiforov, the man of a million surprises, had just done it once again. And possibly broken Logan in the process.

#yuri on ice au #yoi au #sanders sides #logicality #ts logan #ts patton #ts virgil

18 notes · View notes

colorisbyshe · 3 years

Note

if you want to complain more about clamp I am listening :) as someone who owns many volumes of the manga in multiple languages...... I am listening. <3

okay i’m just gonna rant in a very, very long post everyone please just avert your eyes mental illness is happening

but like....... as someone who was nostalgically reading these manga to bring back some happy memories i had as a kid, discovering that these series (ccs which i remembere dfondly despite not having actually watched/read as a kid, and trc and xxxholic which i read with some of my best friends at the time) are not just deeply flawed but harbouring so much like... frankly heinous shit in them is like??? deeply hurtful to me???

and like... i could handle cardcaptor sakura being full of evil shit because i had no deep personal connection, i just wanted to better understand ccs references in tsubasa and lik better appreciate syaoran and sakura and like its 90s shoujo OVER COURSE ITS FUCKED UP! just like sailor moon and fruits basket like it’s not good but like... i can process it

trc hurts me because like... the character writing for kurogane and fai is fucking PHENOMENAL, the concept is cool and interesting and unique, it (for the most part) has great themes and the way it explores concepts like grief, trauma, sacrifice, and healing was a balm to my quarantined soul

but you can tell where they realized they literally... did not know how to resolve their plot? and it got so complicated it legit gave me headaches but at least i had kurogane nad fai and then they’re shoved to the side just for it to be revealed that syaoran... is syaoran and sakura’s son... looking to meet up with sakura... to be with her... so they can be his parents

like... wow so great to watch this beautiful relationship be explored with kurogane and fai saving each otehr from the worst part of themselves just to be sidelined for “what if those fourth graders from cardcaptor sakura where husband and wife AND mother and son but like NOT REALLY becaues syaoran is also syaoran’s own dad so is it incest or just really confusing” but no it’s both like legit when falling in love with sakura he comments on how she’s just like his mom like hello bitch? you’re 14 but i’ll still kill you that shit is WEIRD

so that wAS NOT GREAT and then it ends with THE GROUP SEPARATED AT THE END?? SO I COULDN’T EVEN GET A HAPPY ENDING like yeah maybe it’s good sakura and syaoran were separated but kurogane and fai got to stay together beacuse... fuck the incest but like... where is my catharsis where is my happiness??

and i’m rereading xxxholic which was my favorite of trc/xxxholic as a kid and... first off, it’s boring, secondly, it thinks it’s smarter than it is an dhas contradicting themes every other chapter, but FUCK it’s so interesting but doumeki, himawari, watauniki, and yuuko don’t have half the bonds as the TRC gang and like... i still don’t know why doumeki was going so fucking hard for watanuki

but the concepts were interesting enoguh and watching watanuki grow was nice

but you can ALSO tell AGAIN clamp just got bored and didn’t know how to wrpa it up so suddenly watanuki gives up ALL HIS BONDS AND HURTS ALL HIS FRIENDS just to be reunited with yuuko??? despite the themes of the story being about how self sacrifice causes scars on others?? and that’s BAD like if you love your frieneds you don’t hurt them by undervaluing yourself??? THATS A BASIC THEME OFT HE STORY

and then they rush to pair off doumeki with a girl THEY HELPED RAISE so he can have children to stay with watanuki... himawari is written off despite her last interactions with watanuki being about them caring for each other anad choosing to stay in contact despite her curse... and like yuuko’‘s entire character is never explained she’s just like “i’m a woman who exists as a vehicle of plot in both TRC and xxxholic i will never be given depth beyond that... well also i’ll ruin watanuki’s life”

and hen the last chapters are just watching everyone grow up while watanuki is alone, never aging, helping grant wishes where he watches other immortal beings suffer and lose everyone, and it just ends with him relizing he likely won’t ever see yuuko again but he’ll keep waiting?? even though it’s been 100 yers and everyone he loves is dead??

and that shit is not good for my mental health like i feel like i have been isolated fo ra hundred years beacuse of covid watching watanuki choose it hurt edeply

like half the manga is about syaoran and sakura begging him not to vanish (also that plotline was WEIRDLY dropped) and the series ends with him effectively... vanishing a sa person and just becoming shopkeeper

how fucking depressing??

i could handle a sad ending if it had value. if it said something. if it didn’t have doumeki marrying a girl he knew since she was an abused elementary schooler while he was like 17. ESPECiALLY when IN THE PANELS REVEALING IT it weren’t like “atcually neither of them love each other they love watanuki but it’s fine” like HUH????????? FOR WHY

and ive really had to grasp the reason why there’s so much fucked up shit (incest, pedophilia) in those series is core to CLAMP’s messages accross all their mangas about soulmates nad how about love can triumph over everything

and like using such a PURE message to be like “if an adult is in love with a child and they’re soulmates, it’s to be” is so fucking evil

like they’ll tip toe around kurogane and fai, yukito and touya, doumeki and watanuki, and all the gaybait that i KNOW is in their other series because i’ve grown up seeing shit like tokyo babylon and legal drug and all their other dropped manga

because gay peopl ebeing soulmates is a wink and a nod

but ADULTS WITH CHILDREN THEY ARE IN CHARGE OF??? MOTHER AND SON MAYBE??? oh that’s fine they’re REAL soulmates who will go against TIME AND DIMENSION MAGIC ITSELF to be in love

like...............................

gay people are second class characters compared to pedos and incest... does it get worse than that? like besides emotionally destroyed by the sad endings, i get that shit too?

it hurts on a deeper level like feels like a betrayal and i’m kind of really sad i revisited something i enjoyed so much as a kid (even when i didn’t understand wtf was going on, because i was literally reading it at the same time my friend was and rushing) andd discovered this like... deep rot inside it

i could have continued to remember it fondly but now it’s just like... reaching the last bite of cake and being told it was made with maggots like... well i already ate it all...

there’s no point reading clear card or the unfinished tsubasa/xxxholic sequels because they’ve already ruined themselves like they can’t fix it

kurogane and fai still won’t be allowed to be together. watanuki still outlived everyone who ever loved him for a mother figure that can never come back. cardcaptor wrote off the fourth grader engaged to hre teacher but like... sakura’s dad is still a preadator

like... what do i do with these left over feelings then?

i’ll be over it in a dya but like for tonight i really do feel unwell

okay thank you i got it out in one post i am processing the feelings

i am gonna cry about watanuki being alone tho

4 notes · View notes

manjuhitorie · 3 years

Text

Shinoda’s Instagram Q&A December 2020 - Translated (Some)

Question “It's been a while since you last did one of these!”

Shinoda “Long time no doing, let's do this”

Q “I loved your new song” SND “THX”

Q ”Do you have any preferred eye medicine? My eyes have been aching as of late” SND “Nope When mine hurt I go to the eye doctor.”

Q ”I want to finish my thesis and plop like a log already.” SND “You can plop like a log once you finish, probably

Q “Nice work with the live stream!! Are your muscle pains feeling any better?” SND “Fortunately They're all better now.”

Q “The live stream was super amazing. You were ignored so much during the MCs, I felt bad. SND “Normally the others do in fact talk to me quite a bit, normally at least. Strange.”

Q “SHINODADIDYOUGAINWEIGHT?” SND “Some people tell me I look like I lost weight, some people tell me I look like I gained weight. I don't have a scale in my house so I don't actually know but, I think I'm way better than I was earlier this year. “

Q “Why did you scream that "KOOOOOOON" thing during the live stream earlier?” SND “That was a homage to GG Allin”

Q “Are you in contact with Yamada Ryuuichi? (The vocalist and guitarist of Buzz Mothers)” SND “In spring of this year he had hit me up with a "You doing okay?" and I replied with "I'm so-so."

Q “My significant other if telling me they'll commit suicide if we break up. I'm scared, I can't take this anymore. Am I going to become a murderer..😢” SND “A break up merely means to choose not to walk the same path as another anymore. If that's what you desire then there's no need to agonize over their threats so much. Also you won't be a murderer.”

Q “Your new song was so good! The singing looks so hard though, are you a masochist?” SND “I had written the song with the intent to lessen my workload but it still somehow ended up being crazy fucking difficult. Why does this happen?”

Q “What's in the background of this Instagram story?” SND “This is the jersey I had worn during last year's tour.”

Q “I just learned of you today, I just came to be fan today.” SND “'nice to meet you'”

Q “It's been a while! My senpai with a big dick can't seem to find a job*! That's all I have to say!” SND ”Even though his dick is so big, huhh I guess things can't always go well*”

Q “What are you doing to pass the time these days?” SND “I've been watching Arupi Channel or Kamomental's skits or New York (The comedy duo)’s skits.”

Q “The reading of 伽藍如何前零番地 seems to differ depending on site or person, may I ask the correct reading?” SND “'Garandou Mae Zero Banchi' ....I'm sure?”

Q “It's been a while, I'm happy to see you~! Who are you rooting for in these year's M-1 tournie?” SND “Tokyo Hoteisonn, New York, ???, Oswald, West Land..... I just can't wait to see everyone.”

Q “It's been 1 year since I graduated, I can't find work anymore and I'm in the gutter everyday. Can I bother you for some words of encouragement? 👼” SND “Back when I first joined Hitorie, my guitar playing was still shit. Often I would go home absolutely pooped. It took me a long time to learn how to play with confidence. Turns out it's kinda important to constantly be figuring out where you're lacking, and never slack off in this front.”

Q “There's huge ass swelling on my wisdom tooth and I'm getting mouth inflammation all at the same time, I really feel the rush of the end of the year. It hurts” SND “About your wisdom tooth, just go to the dentist. About your inflammation, there's this type of gelatin you can coat your mouth with, that stuff's great.”

Q “Did you purposefully ask what time it was during the concert to reference song lyrics?” SND “I was merely interested in the time.”

Q “Would you prefer being with someone whom you love but is tough to be around, or with someone whom you don't love but is fun to be around?” SND “There's more fish in the sea, I don't think it's impossible to find someone you love whom is also fun to be around.”

Q “I also recognized the place you streamed the concert from too! I was getting excited at my desk.” SND “That threw me for a loop, it hit me as soon as I saw it.”

Q “I started reading Ninja to Gokudou. SND “It's fantastic ain't it.”

Q “Do you know Doraemon? If you do then please I would like to know which of his secret weapons you would most like to have.” SND “Memory Bread.”

Q “During SLEEPWALK I was worried that you might trip on your cables, but how is it on your side?” SND “I try to be careful, to a degree at least...”

Q “Do you recommend any Yakuza movies?” SND “The Ninja Dragon“

Q “I got shivers watching your Namid[A]me performance the other day.” SND “I still had stamina at that point in the show.”

Q “You always seem to sweat even when you wear short sleeves, and you were wearing long sleeves during the concert the other day. Were you not hot? SND “Naw, not especially”

Q 'Nana nama mugi, nana nama kome, nana nama tamago' in JP romaji, (lit. Seven raw wheats, seven raw rices, seven raw eggs), is hard to say” SND “Well it's purposefully made to be”

Q “My first love was the author of Inumayuge de Iko, Inazuka Yuuko-sensei. Do you feel me?” SND “You have good taste.”

Q “I got a boyfriend AND broke up with him in the span it took for you to return Shinoda-san!” SND ”Cheers.”

Q “Any artists you're into recently?” SND “BIBI”

Q “You seem to be sticking with the bob haircut?” SND “You're right...”

Q “Do you have the problem with Vans shoes wherein you slip if they get wet?” SND ”I personally haven't slipped much... Not much anyway”

Q “This Sunday I have my first non-virtual concert in 11 months, gimme some supporttt.” SND “Even you, huh. Even you’re gonna stand up in front of a live audience before I do.”

Q “What’s up with the curved edge album cover?” SND “Apparently it’s a bonsai tree”

Q “I can't stand injections, any tips on how to get over my fears?“ SND “Think about how it’s down with the least painful of all the painful things in life, it doesn’t hurt like a crap all that much, and you do it for your health. All in all it’s a plus, it doesn’t fill your heart with pain or anything.”

Q “Do you know any ways for me to get over my ex-boyfriend...” SND “There’s people who push to get a new partner as soon as possible then make a fool of themselves, just to try and get over their ex. Just take care not to do that.”

Q “You’re way too good at guitar?! How are you so good?! I really respect you SND “Icchi of Kaisoku Tokyo is better.”

Q “I can’t get enough of your new song so I set it as my alarm! It plays 7 times every morning!“ SND “Don’t people end up hating the songs they set as their alarm? Is this okay?”

Q “I loved your new song and stream. No doubt your voice sounded like wowaka’s.” SND “Now’s a good chance for me to say this. I don’t know if I sound like him or anything like that but..... Y’know how people can simulate a singer’s style? I didn’t intend to do anything like that either. So then why do people say this to me? I wondered and realized..

When recording backup vocals, it’s standard to follow the main vocalist’s style. So I needed to analyze Leader’s singing to a degree. I had to do that for numbers of songs for numbers of years, so subconsciously Leader’s style must’ve etched itself into my singing style as well. So it’s not that I’m simulating him, it’s that as a result I’ve just managed to simulate him.”

Q “I’m not sure if I should propose to my boyfriend or not. What would make him say yes..” SND “On your left arm write the words “Go register now” “100% registering for a marriage certificate” “Marriage marriage let’s get married”, then casually roll up your sleeves in front of your boyfriend. This is the key to victory.”

Q “Complicated girls all seem to have black bob hair, are there any normal girls with black bob hair out there?” SND “If there was a normal girl with black bob hair, that in itself would be complicated!!!!”

Q “I was so worried about you after you bonked your head with the mic last concert, did you get in trouble with the higher ups for that?” SND “The band ‘SuiseiNoboAz’ smashed their head into their guitars like 100 times, the band ‘my way my love’ smashed into their drums like 100 million times... So that much was child’s play. I didn’t get in trouble.”

#Hitorie

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dainarps · 5 years

Text

An AU inside an AU

@claudrps “And what do you have to offer me in exchange for your education?” Kimihiro Watanuki stared up at the woman, feeling his throat go dry. He was fifteen, an orphan, and looking for an opportunity to better himself. Cultivation — that was a path to true success. When Mistress Yuuko Ichihara announced that she would be looking for new students, the whole sect was abuzz. Youths came from far and wide to answer her call, many of them turned away.

Watanuki needed this. He lived on the streets, trading chores and odd jobs for shelter during the night, when spirits roamed freely. A roof over his head was only one perk, though. There was fame and notoriety, too, but even that wasn’t why Watanuki wanted this.

He had watched cultivation masters before, admiring their work from wherever his home happened to be that night. They freed lost and wandering spirits, guiding them to return to their afterlives, helping them achieve satisfaction in life. They assisted humans, saving them from wandering corpses or vengeful ghosts looking for anyone to kill and satisfy their bloodlust. No matter what they did, their work was fulfilling.

Watanuki had no sense of purpose. He didn’t remember his parents and neither did anyone else, leaving him a mystery to even those in his clan. Some people considered him cursed — a human born from thin air was only destined to cause trouble. Watanuki paid them no mind. He knew he had parents out there somewhere, whether he grew up orphaned or not. People didn’t just appear out of the ground like flowers.

He’d never felt a calling toward anything until he watched a group of cultivators exorcise the spirit of an angry mother from a baby, saving the child’s life. He wondered if cultivators had been present during his early days, if he would still have his parents.

He wondered if he could make a difference in someone’s life like that.

“I’m offering you…myself,” Watanuki said, his voice firm.

Yuuko smirked and brought her pipe to her lip, inhaling slow, then exhaling, blowing smoke in Watanuki’s face. “So…you’re offering me nothing?”

“Eh?” “That’s how you think of yourself, is it not? You are worth nothing, you came from nothing, you will never achieve anything. You are valued at nothing.” Watanuki’s eyes went wide and he stared at Yuuko, unsure of how to respond to that. Maybe sometimes thoughts like that crossed his mind. There were many days where he thought that about himself. She wasn’t wrong.

He stared down at the ground, his fists clenched at his side. It was one thing for himself to say those things, but it was another entirely for someone else to do so. “That’s what I thought,” Yuuko said, raising her hand to dismiss him. “I’m worth more than nothing,” Watanuki said. “I may have nothing, but I’m worth more than nothing. I’m good with my hands. I can cook and clean. I can sew. I can work. I have value.” He looked up at Yuuko again, his eyes set firm. He wouldn’t be turned away. He could do this. He had worth. He had the determination and the grit.

Yuuko didn’t seem offended by his outburst. In fact…she grinned, and Watanuki immediately felt uneasy. “Prove it.”

Watanuki spent his time at the Ichihara compound on his hands and knees, scrubbing, weeding, painting, and when his knees grew red and raw from that, he stood and cooked, dusted, and catered to each whim Yuuko had. He became a servant, working alone in a house far too big for one person to clean. It seemed that those who were actually the servants had been given some time off, and most of them stood by and watched him. He often heard them talking about how much longer he’d last until he gave up.

They didn’t know just how far stubbornness could take a young man.

It put him through each day of Yuuko calling his name, demanding ridiculous things, begging for sake early in the morning or breakfast late at night. At first, Watanuki delivered these things. His attitude changed quite quickly, though, the more he thought about what got him here in the first place. He valued himself…and he wasn’t going to let this lady take advantage of him. “Watanukiiii,” Yuuko whined, interrupting one of her classes to find him in the hallway, dusting cobwebs off of old paintings. “Bring me the wine from the cellar — you know the one with—“ “No,” Watanuki said. “No?” “No! I’m busy doing the other ridiculous chores on this list, and you’re not drinking in the middle of the morning, and in the middle of your class! What would your students think of you?! Shoo! Shoo! I’m busy!”

Yuuko raised a brow and several of her students were peeking out of the room, looking shocked at his behavior.

“If you say so,” Yuuko said, turning back to her classroom. She repeated this experiment a few more times, and each time, Watanuki fought her on it. She didn’t know if that made him brave or stupid, but it was a good thing regardless. It meant he had a spine.

She allowed Watanuki into the classroom a month later, when his hands were forming callouses from raking the yard, when his knees were black and bruised from scrubbing the floor, when the bags under his eyes were almost as long as his eyes themselves.

Watanuki was a special case, though. He needed more than lessons and practice. He needed a guiding hand — not with cultivation, but with himself. Most of her students came from well-known families, raised with love and kindness. They had brothers and sisters, mothers and fathers. Watanuki had nothing and nobody to fall back on. He had nobody to support him, so Yuuko took him under her wing. He was still young, so she raised him. She brought him on various trips, allowed him into meetings he shouldn’t have been privy to.

Some of the other leaders turned their noses up at it, but none said a word. They couldn’t. This was Yuuko’s student and this was her way of teaching. Worse than that was that Watanuki was actually good at what he did. He was a natural talent, and Yuuko was sure that his ancestors had to have been great cultivators. It was abnormal for someone to have this level of power, but not know where it came from. To be frank, Yuuko was fascinated with Watanuki, and that fascination eventually turned into an almost parental bond.

She tried not to play favorites in class, but Watanuki made it difficult not to. He was a hard worker and skilled in more ways than one. And while she plenty enjoyed pestering him in class, teasing him outside of it was even better. Hardly a night went by where he didn’t show to make her tea or cook her dinner. It had been ages since he’d arrived here, but he hardly acted any different than he had on day one.

——

“What will you name it?” Yuuko asked. Watanuki looked down at the sword in his hands. Yuuko had gone to the smith with a very specific request, and he’d delivered. The silvery sword looked almost liquid under the sunlight, the bird wings on the delicate hilt practically glittering. Watanuki was strong, but not like some, and the sword was light enough for him to swing it easily.

Naming a sword was a big deal. It would be with him for, hopefully, a long time. It would bind to him, protect him, and serve him well. It needed a name that was worthy of it.

“Fenghuang,” Watanuki said after a few moments.

Yuuko hummed and nodded her name approvingly. “A good name.”

The sword’s color shifted in the light, and Watanuki liked to think that it agreed with his choice. ——

Most of the cultivators from his class spread out around the country, returning only occasionally to make reports or reunite with old friends. Watanuki never traveled far, though. He took care of this sect, joined Yuuko when her presence was demanded elsewhere, and left only when she sent him somewhere she was incapable of going.

There were rumors now regarding her behavior, with many wondering if he was being groomed to be her heir. She was unmarried and had no children to speak of. Watanuki, with his family situation — or lack thereof — was a perfect candidate. He was strong, his cultivation skills were admirable for his age, and as he grew he only became more powerful.

He wanted to make Yuuko proud. She had done so much for him, and each time she smiled he felt a little more fulfilled.

——

“A present,” Yuuko said, holding a large box out to Watanuki.

“Eh? What for?”

“Oh, an old friend owed me a favor, so he paid me back with this. I don’t want it, so I thought you might have some use for it.”

“So it’s not a present,” Watanuki said, narrowing his eyes at Yuuko. “It’s leftovers.” “Mm, maybe,” she said. He took the box and set it on his lap — for as big as it was, it wasn’t particularly heavy.

“Some ghost isn’t going to jump out of this at me, right?” Yuuko threw her head back and cackled, as if appreciating that vision more than anything else in the world. He reminded himself to be wary of any future gifts she gave him.

Inside the box was a brand new shamisen, a bird painted elegantly across the front. A plectrum with a similar design laid next to it. Some of the best cultivators practiced with music and instruments, and though Yuuko was already turned around and gone, Watanuki had the feeling that this wasn’t just some secondhand gift.

——

Tendrils of magic swirled around Yuuko — her own cultivation — devouring her from the inside out. Watanuki had only just arrived, summoned by her at the last second. He wondered…if that was her last act. What had she been fighting? What had taken her away?

“Yuuko!” Watanuki screamed, reaching through her spell and grabbing hold of her, trying to free her. Yuuko was one of the most powerful cultivators in history — she couldn’t just die! It was impossible! She…She was Yuuko!

When pulling her free didn’t work he stood back, pulling the shamisen around and strumming — his cultivation combatting against hers. It was a futile idea. Useless from the start.

“Watanuki,” Yuuko spoke, her voice sounding far away and causing Watanuki’s song to cut off suddenly. “You were always meant for greatness, but not even you can stop death.”

Watanuki blinked tears out of his eyes, ignoring how they stained his glasses. “I can try! It’s not supposed to be like this! You’re supposed to be here!” He lifted his plectrum again, only to be cut off by Yuuko’s voice again. “Not all good things can last, Kimihiro. Promise me, though, that you won’t stop,” she said. “Promise me…that you’ll go on existing.” Watanuki looked up to say something more, but Yuuko’s body was all that was left of her, her soul vanished and her corpse just that — a corpse.

An anguished cry fell from his lips and he leaned forward, his tears soaking the ground.

——

Watanuki prayed for several days at her grave, staying there through the night. Visitors from other clans came and went, and even folks from other countries knelt by her grave. Her disciples were all sent to learn under new teachers, and when Watanuki did eventually return to the temple, he was alone. His footsteps echoed in the halls and he muffled his wretched sobs in the bath.

It wasn’t fair. There had to be a way to bring her back to life. She should’ve been immortal. It wasn’t right. Someone like her shouldn’t have been taken away — all the criminals, the thieves, the rapists in this world — and the heavens took Yuuko.

Watanuki couldn’t eat and he didn’t sleep. The other masters were concerned, coming over every now and then to force him to rest. It was only when he was confronted by one of the eldest, that he realized what he could do. He could keep working — he could become immortal — and that would give him an eternity to search for a way to bring back Yuuko.

With newfound vigor, Watanuki began putting himself back on track, fueled by a new goal — a selfish one. His goal of wanting to help others was put on the back burner, but Yuuko would understand that, right? She’d get it, right? He was doing this for her! He was researching, studying, and reading for her.

For some time he was left alone in the temple, left to mourn and do his bidding. He answered his calls and assisted other cultivators as needed, but eventually reality caught back up to him.

He knew what the others said about him — that he was selfish, that he was tainting his cultivation, that the immortality he earned wasn’t rightly given. He’d heard worse things before.

The big issue was that, if he was going to remain in this temple, if he was going to continue practicing cultivation, he was going to have to start accepting students. He would have to open the temple back up to his sect, let people enroll.

The news was delivered to him and he grumbled about it for weeks. Didn’t they know he had better things to do?! Didn’t they understand his work here?! He could really make a difference if he accomplished this! He could bring Yuuko back — and so many other great leaders!

He knew, though, that if he mentioned it to anyone…it’d be frowned upon. It went against the natural order.

To be frank, fuck the natural order.

——

Several years after Yuuko’s death, Watanuki opened the front doors to the temple for the first time. He stepped outside wearing her long robes and lit the oil lamps out front. He planted new flowers, hung flags, and let it spread that he would finally be accepting students — those he deemed worthy. Yuuko’s task had been a difficult one for him — what was worth his education here?

Watanuki had volunteered his life in exchange for her teachings. What did he want these children to do? If he had to teach, he wouldn’t bother with those who couldn’t stand on their own two feet. They should be wise — worldly — but not stuck up. They should know the value of hard work and labor, while knowing what it took to be poised and refined.

So, when his first potential student arrived at his door, begging to be educated, Watanuki inhaled slow on his pipe and exhaled, letting the smoke waft lazily around the ceiling. “I’d like a cup of tea before I make my decision,” he said.

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bemused-writer · 5 years

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VNC Volume 7 Covers Review

So, we have two covers for VNC volume 7 this month, so I figured I’d take a bit of a look at them! Please note: I’ve taken the photos from Mochizuki’s Twitter page. Normally, I don’t use any photos from her Twitter because she has asked us not to, but seeing as both of these are for sale and not exclusive to her Twitter page, I suspect it’s all right. If anyone knows otherwise, please let me know!

The first one is our default cover for volume 7:

I’m not completely sure which chapters volume 7 has (I haven’t gotten my copy in the mail yet) but it will start from chapter 33 and probably go to about... 36 or 37? Anyway, the volume will wrap up Chloé’s series of flashbacks and get us to Noé and Vanitas’s reunion. The point is, it makes a great deal of sense for these two to be on the cover!

There’s a decent amount of symbolism. We see Chloé and Jean-Jacques in an embrace representing how inseparable they are. There’s a possessive streak to both of their positions and you get the sense they don’t care much about anyone than the person in their arms. The light shines directly upon Chloé. I think there are a couple of ways of looking at that. She’s certainly the light of Jean-Jacques’s life. She’s somewhat associated with snow. The spotlight has literally been on her for the entire arc. It could also be seen as Heaven’s light. Perhaps she’s more blessed than she realizes or perhaps her time is nearly up. The light is surrounded by the music score she used on her device as well as the starry night. Maybe a reference to Heaven’s choir? Or perhaps the divine nature of her knowledge and that she’s using a special kind of astermite?

As for Jean-Jacques, his eyes are the crimson that a vampire’s seem to turn to when they’re using their power. That fits in with his protective streak towards Chloé. His shoulder also appears to be going up in flames. Perhaps a representation that he’ll give everything, including his body, to protect Chloé. It has a bit of a devilish vibe, contrasting with the light from above. These two are a complicated duo and the cover might want to capture that: they’re neither good nor bad. They’re simply as complicated as the rest of the cast.

And now the alternate cover. I mean... the tonal difference between these two pieces is just... really extreme. XD Just once I would like a cover of Noé looking like a semi-normal person. He hasn’t once looked like the good-natured guy he is in the manga. Maybe that’s Mochizuki trying to tell us something. 8D

Anyway, if we ever had any doubts about Noé being entirely enmeshed in Vanitas’s life and possibly developing a slight obsession with him, I think those can be put to rest. XD He’s seen here wearing Vanitas’s coat, his hourglass earring as a ring, and Vanitas’s extra blue earrings on his ear, surrounded by blue blood (?), which is indicative of the blood Vanitas holds that Noé wants so badly.

To be honest, the first association I had with this piece was with xxxHolic. (Spoilers for that series upcoming...). At the very end of that series, Yuuko dies and Watanuki is left alone without her. In his grief, he assumes her personality traits, her mannerisms, and her dress style.

We already know Vanitas dies, we know Noé is writing down their adventures. Will it go further than that?

On a lighter note, we could also interpret this as devotion and possibly a developing relationship between the two. The ring is on the wrong finger, but the associations between that and commitment are hard to ignore.

However, combined with all that is the brooch, which is definitely the same head as this guy:

It’s Mr. Doom and Gloom himself!

To me, this is symbolic of the fact that as attached as Noé may be to Vanitas, he ultimately cannot save him, just as this fellow says. Or, he carries doubt about his ability to help/save Vanitas close to his heart. If this character is Louis in some way, it could also show that Louis is still the one he cares for most, all evidence to the contrary.

I suppose the only similarity I could draw between these two covers is obsession? I wouldn’t normally describe Noé as “obsessed” with Vanitas, but it is true he refuses to leave his side while Chloé and Jean-Jacques are definitely obsessed with each other. Perhaps this is another indication we should be comparing their relationships.

#vanitas no carte #vnc #vnc spoilers #Bemused's post

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iwaswritingmywayout · 3 years

Text

BTMH: Chapter 15: Hot Springs on Ice (Part 2)

Y/N clapped. ‘That was amazing. He’ll definitely rank among the top co-ed senior division skaters,’ Y//N thought and then she put her head into her hands. ‘Right…If I lose, Seonghwa will go back to Russia. I don’t want that.’ Y/N looked down at her skates. ‘I have to win. I want to win. I want to win!’

“Y/N,” Seonghwa said.

She was so busy in her own thoughts that she didn’t realize that Seonghwa had walked over to her, stopping in front of her. Y/N looked up at Seonghwa, but she didn’t say anything.

“It’s your turn,” Seonghwa said calmly.

Y/N gasped and covered her mouth. “U-Um, I’m… I’m going to become a super tasty pork cutlet bowl, so please watch me!” Y/N said. She stood up and hugged Seonghwa. “Promise!”

Seonghwa smiled. “Of course. I love pork cutlet bowls,” Seonghwa said.

Y/N nodded and let go before walking out of the locker room to the ice rink.

“We’re pleased to introduce a skater who represents Japan, one that won Team Japan a gold medal during the 2010 Winter Olympics, a late bloomer who’s becoming a rising star, Katsuki Y/N!” Morooka said.

‘Hey! I’m not a late bloomer! I had an injury I had to heal from!’ Y/N thought.

She stepped on the ice and skated out to the center of the rink. The audience cheered and she smiled.

“Good luck, Y/N!” The crowd cheered.

“She will skate to, “On Love: Eros”,” Morooka said.

“Y/N! Good luck, Katsuki!” The crowd cheered.

“She’s been having difficulty expressing “Eros”, but she said she’ll think of how she’d love to eat her favorite dish, the pork cutlet bowl.

‘I pulled an all-nighter to help her practice, and she’s no ordinary pork cutlet bowl,’ Minako thought.

Y/N stood in the center of the ice with her hip cocked to on side. Her arms moved down before circling over her head. They then shot back down.

‘Who am I dancing for? I know who,’ Y/N thought. She shot a charming glance at Seonghwa, the smallest trace of a smirk on her face. Seonghwa whistled in response. Y/N started her routine.

“What a seductive step sequence! It’s hard to believe she’s imagining a pork cutlet bowl!” Morooka said.

‘It’s because I’m thinking of more than just a pork cutlet bowl, I’m thinking of Seonghwa, too,’ Y/N thought. She then did her camel spin.

‘Good! You’re known for your step sequences and spins,’ Minako thought.

~Flashback~

Y/N had been staying late with Minako, working hard to improve.

“I want you to teach me how to move in even more feminine ways than I already do,” Y/N said.

“Huh?” Minako said.

“Before today, I’ve tried too hard to be the playgirl, so hard that it doesn’t seem natural. I want to be the playgirl that gets the man without even trying!” Y/N said.

Y/N and Minako would stay up late working on the movement part of the routine in her ballet studio.

~Flashback Ends~

‘I’m not going to drastically change any moves, but I just think this is a lot closer to how I feel,’ Y/N thought.

‘At first, I wasn’t sure what she was being all serious about, but her performance has integrated her emotions, it’s changed,’ Minako thought.

‘Before, I was the girl trying to seduce the man, who I was picturing as Seonghwa, but now that I know how he feels, I’m not working as hard to seduce, and I’m more so focusing on captivating him. Seduction through captivation,’ Y/N thought.

“Now, we have a spread eagle into a triple axel,” Morooka said.

‘Man, this program is tough,’ Y/N thought. ‘Skating hasn’t caused me pain in a while, so why is it starting now? Have I been pushing myself too hard?’

For a split second, Y/N’s face clearly showed that she was in pain, but more people didn’t notice it. However, Seonghwa isn’t most people. He noticed it as soon as it showed up. He held his chin as he thought. ‘Is her knee hurting her?’

‘Scheduling all the jumps in the second half just because she has stamina is pretty spartan,’ Takeshi thought.

“Her knee is hurting her,” Yuuri said. He was standing next to Yuuko and Takeshi. “Did you see the look on her face? She’s pushing herself too hard. At this rate she’s going to hurt herself again.”

“She’s been skating more these past few weeks than she had in month, it’s understandable for her to hurt. Her body hasn’t gotten used to her skating a lot yet. Those months when she didn’t skate affected her body,” Yuuko said.

Yuuri nodded. “I know, I’m just worried that she’s going all in too soon,” Yuuri explained.

“She probably is, but there isn’t anything we can do, she’ll have to learn that the hard way,” Takeshi said.

“Oops! She stepped out of his quadruple Salchow! She managed to stay on her feet by putting her hand down,” Morooka said.

‘About what you would expect,’ Jongho thought.

‘Don’t panic! A mistake like this isn’t enough to make me lose my charms. I’m better than any other woman out there. You know why? I already have Seonghwa captivated without even doing anything’ Y/N thought.

“A quadruple toe loop followed by a triple toe loop! She nailed it! What a good combination!” Morooka said.

‘A quad-triple combination at the very end? Is she insane? She nailed it, too,’ Takeshi thought.

Jongho watched Y/N wrap up her program. He turned around and started to walk away while Y/N made a sweeping motion with both arms. The crowd cheered loudly.

“Welcome back, Y/N! Welcome back!” The crowd cheered.

“Guys, it’s not “welcome back”. That was a Y/N you’ve never seen before. No one could look away,” Takeshi said.

“That’s the best she has ever done, even better than her senior debut. I guess Seonghwa was a good motivation for her,” Yuuri said.

Y/N waved to the audience as she smiled.

“I’m looking forward to this season now,” Takeshi said.

“Me too. My sister’s finally back,” Yuuri said with a wide smile on his face.

Seonghwa stood at the entrance to the rink. He was smiling and held his arms out. “Y/N!” He said.

Y/N turned around and smiled before skating towards him. She got to him and hugged him tightly. She was able to ignore the pain in her knee because of how happy he looked.

“That was the tastiest pork cutlet bowl I’ve ever seen! Wonderful!” Seonghwa said.

“Th-Thank you,” Y/N said.

“But can I say something?” Seonghwa said, a serious look on his face.

“S-Sure,” Y/N said.

“What was with your triple axel out of the spread eagle? That was the worst attempt so far. I know you had Jongho teach you the quad Salchow in secret, but what was that?” Seonghwa said, lecturing very quickly.

Y/N’s eyes went blank and she keeled over onto the ice. She was done. Y/N.exe had stopped working for a second time. The ice also made her knee feel better since it was cold.

“Huh? Y/N?” Seonghwa asked.

Jongho left Ice Castle Hasetsu, pulling his suitcase behind him. Yuuko ran out after him, wondering why he was leaving before the results had even been announced.

“Jongho, hang on,” Yuuko said. Jongho stopped walking. “You’re going back without even hearing the results?”

Jongho looked down. “I already know the results. That performance,” Jongho started his face looking as if he was about to cry. “I’m going to keep going under Yakov. Later.” Jongho held up a hand and waved. “Dasvidaniya.”

“I see,” Yuuko said.

“Don’t get me wrong! I’m the one who’ll win at the Grand Prix Final! Tell her that!” Jongho said harshly before walking away.

Back inside Ice Castle Hasetsu, Y/N and Seonghwa stood at a small podium.

“Katsuki Y/N has won the Hot Springs on Ice event,” Morooka said. He then handed Y/N a microphone. “A word, please.”

“O-Oh, um…” Y/N started.

Seonghwa put his hand on Y/N’s arm in what felt like a reassuring way. Y/N blinked and looked up.

“I’m going to try and win the next Grand Prix Final with Seonghwa! Thank you for your continued support!” Y/N said.

Minako’s eyes were watering, and she put an arm over her face while the audience cheered for Y/N.

‘The battle for my very last figure skating season has begun,’ Y/N thought.

#born to make history #seonghwa x reader #ateezxreader #park seonghwa #yuri!!! on ice #ateez #xreader

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rdmfavcpls · 4 years

Text

Breaking News

Title: Breaking News

Category: Digimon

Rating: T

Pairing: Ami/Arata

Summary: Arata wants to go to a convention about reporters. Ami tries to talk him out of it, but they still end up going. He finds out why she was so hesitant later.

Prompt: “I really wish you’d told me your mother was in town.”

Disclaimer: I do not own any rights to Digimon

Author’s Note: I’m just throwing this out here but for some reason, this story I am very proud of. I don’t know why, but every time I reread it I just felt proud. I haven’t felt this proud in my stories in a long time.

~~Story Begins~~

“Please, Ami,” Arata said. “I just want to go to one’s person’s talk. After that, we can leave.”

Ami stared at Arata. His face did not match the desperation that was showing in his grey eyes and his long black shaggy hair only highlighted the intensity of his grey eyes. “We can’t go next year?” she said hopefully.

She already knew the answer.

“No. Yukino only shows up to these conventions once every five years because of how busy she is. This year has been her biggest year since she started,” Arata said.

“I’m sure it will be uploaded online,” she said.

“It won’t have the same feel. Why are you doing this?”

Because I don’t want you to leave me.

Ami closed her eyes for a second. She knew that her fear and anxiety would show in her ocean blue eyes and while her flaming red hair would be able to hide her eyes, it would be weird for her to suddenly take her hair out of its side pony.

“Fine,” she said with a sigh that allowed her emotions to escape. A sigh that Arata picked up on. “I’ll go with you, but I won’t go to Yukino’s speech.”

I can’t destroy the image that everyone has for her. I could never measure up to her.

“Ami, is something the matter?” Arata said.

“Nope, everything is okay. I’m just disappointed I’ll miss the biggest episode of my soap opera,” Ami said. “I could sneak out and watch it while you listen to Yukino’s speech.”

She didn’t see Arata’s furrowed brow. “Ami, you don’t even watch soap operas,” he said. “Besides, Yukino’s speech isn’t scheduled at any of the times that soap operas come on.”

“Summer assignment. Need to watch three episodes and do a character study on all of the major characters,” Ami said.

“Okay, and you plan on doing this during Yukino’s speech?”

“It will give me something to do since I know she’s the only one speaking at that time,” Ami said. “This way you can stay longer and -”

“As much as I would love to get her autograph, I’m not that patient to wait in line,” Arata said. “You really don’t want to go, do you?”

“Not really,” Ami said.

He kissed her forehead. “Thank you.”

~~Digimon~~

“You know, you didn’t have to dress up,” Arata said glad he had his hood up to hide his ears.

“What? You don’t like it?” Ami said as she poked his side. Her yellow shirt was replaced with a white shirt that had no sleeves and ruffles in the front and a black skirt.

“I never said that,” Arata said. “Shall we go?”

“Of course,” Ami said with a smile.

~~Digimon~~

Ami stayed close to Arata’s side. She had a tendency of getting lost in places like these, but she also trying to avoid someone.

She didn’t want her to see them.

“You okay?” Arata said.

“Yeah, why? Oh, am I getting too close to you?” Ami said. She took a couple steps away from him. “Sorry.”

Arata watched her. People did surround them, but he doesn’t know who they are and they are too busy in their own conversations to pay attention. He knows Ami is a saint, someone who deserves a man (or woman) that is a lot better than him, but he’s selfish. He’s been selfish the entire year that they’ve dated and she’s been patient.

She has the brightest smile on her face when she was allowed to poke him in order to tease or get his attention. She accepts his small kisses on her forehead and knows that is his way of saying ‘I love you’ because he’s too much of a coward to say them to her.

Next month they will have their one-year anniversary and he hasn’t properly kissed her yet.

“Arata?” Ami said in a small voice.

He reached over and grabbed her hand to pull her back to him. The grip of his hand didn’t loosen or change when she was too stunned to try and ask him if he was sure. He did use this moment to intertwined his fingers in between hers.

“You wasn’t too close. I know how easy it is to lose you in crowds like this for some reason,” Arata said as he allowed her to see the pink on his cheeks which meant his ears were red. “I know you didn’t want to come here, but you seem like you are in a room filled with predators and that you are prey.”

“Ah. Sorry. I didn’t think it was that obvious,” Ami said.

“Is there someone here who you are trying to avoid?”

Ami nodded her head and swallowed.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because you really wanted to go,” Ami said with a smile. “As long as I keep an eye out, I’m 60% sure that if I see her, I can escape before she notices me.”

“Is this person dangerous?”

“Oh! You should get going so you can have a good seat for Yukino’s talk.”

“What about you?”

“I’ll work on my soap opera project,” Ami said. She leaned up and kissed his cheek before she walked away.

Arata felt her hand pull away and he watched her walk away. He frowns. He didn’t realize that the person who she was avoiding would be here or that they were dangerous. He looked at his hand before he shoved it in his pocket. He was already missing the feel of her small, smooth, delicate hand in his own oversized hand.

~~Digimon~~

“That was super amazing!” Arata said.

He was walking next to Ami and they were heading back to his apartment.

“Yukino is so amazing and cool. Not only is she a hard-core overseas reporter, but she is also a big fan of history and video games!”

“I’m glad you had fun,” Ami said.

“Thank you so much for coming with me. You really should have listened to Yukino’s talk. Your mother is a reporter, isn’t she?”

“Yes, why?”

“Yukino gave a lot of notes over how to be the best reporter and everyone was taking notes!” Arata said as his pace quickened so he walked ahead of her.

He was still talking about Yukino’s talk and Ami knew he was in his fanboy state, but it hurt. Because he was talking about Yukino. Just like her past boyfriends.

She’s only had three boyfriends in her 21 years of life, but she’s left the last two because of Yukino. The little voices of self-doubt and jealousy whispered in the back of her mind that she had tried to ignore.

“I love Yukino!” Arata said.

Ami stopped in her tracks as the voices yelled inside of her head. She stared at Arata’s back as he kept walking. It was the first time she has ever heard him say that the L word.

Love.

It wasn’t directed towards a fictional character or a historical person. It wasn’t aimed at one of his family members or her. It was being aimed at Yukino.

A celebrity, a tough reporter that wouldn’t stop until they got their answers, a well-respected woman around the world, a fighter for many things, and a survivor of cancer.

Her own mother.

“Ami?” Arata said as he turned around to look at her when he noticed she wasn’t beside him. “Ami, are you okay?”

“What? No, I’m sorry,” Ami said. She grabbed her left arm. “I just remembered that I have an errand I needed to get done today.”

Arata narrowed his eyes as she grabbed her arm. It was a sign that she was lying that he wasn’t sure if she knew it or not.

“Sorry, I got to go,” Ami said and ran off.

“Ami! Wait!” Arata yelled.

She was already lost in a crowd of people. He couldn’t see her red hair anywhere and no one was being pushed or shoved out of the way.

~~Digimon~~

“Has any of you seen or heard from Ami?” Arata said as he reread his message before he sent it in a group chat. He sat his digivice down on the table and paced.

It’s been two weeks since Ami ran off. Their year anniversary was coming up and he hasn’t seen or heard from Ami except for when she messaged him that she couldn’t make it to their date. He’s tried to hack her digivice, but it was offline.

He picked up his digivice up as soon as a series of beeps sounded.

Yuugo: Not recently, why?

Yuuko: I believe I saw her at Akihabara last week,

Yuuko: She looked pale and showed signs of crying.

At least, Yuuko saw her. He didn’t like her description of his usually cheery and bright girlfriend. However, Nokia hasn’t responded yet. She’s usually the one who knows about Ami whereabouts or condition. The one who Ami goes to whenever they have a fight.

Arata: Nokia?

Nokia: ...Can you erase all traces of this conversation?

Yuugo: Why?

Yuuko: It is possible.

“Please,” Arata whispered. “Please tell me that she’s okay.”

Nokia: Try her apartment.

Arata: I already did. She’s not there.

Nokia: Try again. You might’ve missed her. Just be gentle when you see her.

Nokia: She’s hurting.

Arata: Thank you

~~Digimon~~

Ami yawned as she stood by the escalator on the first floor. She always enjoyed spending time with her mother, but so much as happened and she’s drained.

It didn’t help that she cried the first two nights her mom was back. Then they were busy baking that Ami believes she will have the smell of sugar, butter, and spices linger on her for a good month.

Her mother was a reporter and knew that Ami was hiding something and with Ami’s past experiences, she knew it was a boy problem. Yukino had to tell Ami something important as well so she took Ami out for shopping which was a mistake because her agent saw them and -

Ami rubbed her temples as she felt a headache approaching and the pain medication wearing off.

The agent crossed the line. He had grabbed Ami and shoved her against the wall. He had his phone out, ready to call the police because she was one of Yukino’s fans that got way too close when her mom got in control and fired him on the spot.

Than after Ami got checked out at the hospital and Yukino spoiled her and drowned her in love and apologizes. Yukino had to start the search for a new agent that WAS approved by Ami and would understand that Yukino cannot have a big workload since cancer has started its battle with her again.

“I need to remember to spoil Nokia soon,” Ami said as she continued to rub her temples.

Nokia was the only person who Ami leaned on at this time. She wasn’t going to fault Arata for his feelings over Yukino. She was interesting and hardcore to all of her viewers. Everyone loves her and Ami is nothing like her.

She also wasn’t going to fault her mother because her TV personality was still a part of her. She went to unscripted TV reporter from zero to one second when her ex-agent picked her up. Her mother was also a doting and lovable mother that always prided Ami has her biggest achievement and the best reward she ever received.

So, Nokia listened to her in a digicall as she cried and spilled all of her insecurities she always had about herself. Nokia learned about Ami’s past boyfriends and the internal struggle she has between seeing Yukino at events and avoiding her at events because of how she’ll act.

Nokia learned about her insecurities she felt with her relationship with Arata. She refuses to pressure Arata to do something that he felt uncomfortable doing just to push some of her own insecurities away.

Nokia took it all with a willing ear, a late night ice cream snack, cinnamon whiskey, and surprised comments (You’ve been dating a year and he hasn’t kissed you yet? Before you say it, kissing on the forehead doesn’t count.” “Hold up! You’ve been dating for a year and you haven’t heard him tell you that he loves you even though you say it almost all the time to him?” “Why wasn’t I informed of this earlier? Someone needs to tell him to man up and if he doesn’t then I call dibs on taking you away from him.”) with stride and promises not to tell anyone of her troubles.

That is until Ami and Arata get married and Nokia gives the maid of honor speech. It is also because of Nokia that Ami isn’t going to break up with Arata yet. Her own mother seems confused over Arata as well and told Ami to give him another chance.

“Ami!” she heard a familiar voice say.

She turned her head to face the person, but she was engulfed in a hug. Her chin was resting on a white-clothed shoulder and black hair was seen out of the corner of her eye.

“Thank heavens that you are okay,” Arata said. “You lied to me and then ran away. You kept canceling on me and I couldn’t track your digivice. Kyoko said that you had two weeks off and I couldn’t find you at any of your usual places.”

Ami didn’t say a word. She was stunned but she registered Arata’s comments.

Arata pulled back to look at Ami and she blinked. He looked as tired as she felt physically and mentally. His hair was always a mess, but it looked more of a mess and small bags were under his eyes and his grey eyes looked exhausted, but there was relief and happiness in them.

“Ami?”

“Sorry, give me a minute,” Ami said with a smile. “I’m in shock over you hugging me.”

Arata pulled Ami back into a hug. “I thought I lost you,” Arata said into her hair.

Maybe Nokia knew something Ami didn’t because this wasn’t how he usually acts. It couldn’t be because he was worried about her.

“I didn’t mean to make you worry,” Ami said. “I’ve been busy and I was going to message you today.”

“I’ve been trying to find you,” Arata said. He pulled away from her a little bit. “I missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too,” Ami said. “Oh! Lily said you have a package waiting for you at the bookstore!”

“Why?” Arata said. “I haven’t pre-ordered anything for a while.”

Ami shrugged and held back a painful groan. “I’m just letting you know the message.” Arata grabbed Ami’s hand. “Huh?”

“You’re coming with me,” Arata said. “Please.”

Ami smiled. “Fine, I’ll go with you, but I am not going inside.”

“Why?”

“You know that I have an addiction to books,” Ami said. She went to grab the railing for the escalator only to wince in pain. “Ow.”

“What happened? Are you hurt? Nokia said that you were hurting.”

“I’m fine,” Ami said. “I just have some sore muscles in my back.” She tried to move her hand away from his but he only tightened his grip.

Arata looked at her like he didn’t believe her. He nodded. “Okay, we’ll take the escalator and before you ask, no, I’m not letting your hand go. Why did you run off two weeks ago?”

Ami paled as they rode the escalator.

“Ami.”

“It’s stupid, really,” Ami said as they got off the escalator.

“You don’t just run off because of something stupid. That’s Nokia’s department.”

“Oh! That was quick,” the lady that stands outside the bookstore said. “I’ll go grab the package for you, Mr. Sanada.”

“Thank you,” Arata said with a nod. He focused on Ami who stood by the blue robot.

“Like I said, it’s stupid,” Ami said and looked away.

“You may think it is stupid, but it must mean a lot to you. I can’t see how it will be stupid.”

Ami mumbled under her breath as Arata released her hand.

“What was that?”

“You said love for the first time in front of me,” Ami said.

Arata blinked a couple of times. “It was over a celebrity,” he said. “Someone who I will never meet in person. Even if I did, I wouldn’t leave you to go be with her. The way she acts is all scripted anyway, so that’s not even her personality.”

Ami wanted to argue that nothing that Yukino does is scripted. It’s mostly unscripted, but Lily had come back outside the store.

“Here’s your package,” Lily said. “Thank for doing business with us.” Her face went red. “I screwed up!”

“It was almost flawless, Lily,” Ami said with a smile. “Just keep practicing.”

“Thank you,” Lily said with a bow.

Arata started to walk away and he thought Ami was beside him. He didn’t notice a woman with a tan jacket on the escalator. “I don’t understand why you would run away from that. I mean I’m - wait a minute,” he said and then stopped. “This is addressed to me, but it has your return address on it.”

He turned around and saw Ami was still by the robot, but tan jacket covered arms was draped over Ami’s shoulders, the hands overlapping at the wrists by Ami’s chest. Brown hair was laying on top of red hair and Ami was looking up at the other person who had brown eyes behind glasses.

“I don’t like him.”

“You haven’t liked anyone that you have interviewed,” Ami said with a sigh.

Arata slowly walked towards Ami.

“He believed that I should be bragging about my rewards and trophies and blah. He also said that I should do double the work since I haven’t worked the past two weeks and ‘when the time comes’.”

Arata raised an eyebrow as the female took notice of him.

“You must be Sanada,” the female said. “Hello.”

“Yes, hi,” Arata said. He was surprised that he didn’t feel tongue-tied being around this woman like he thought he would. “Sorry to bother you but may I have my girlfriend? We were in the middle of a conversation.”

“Oh? I thought you were a fan of mine. Besides, I love Ami more,” the female said and rubbed her cheek against Ami’s.

“While I am a fan of your work, Yukino, it doesn’t give you the right to hold my girlfriend captive,” Arata said.

Yukino moved her head to rest back on top of Ami’s head. “That’s a first. I like him. Yeah, I remember him. He ran out of the room as soon as my speech was over. Didn’t even bother to stay for the autograph thing.”

“Book signing,” Ami said.

“Ami has a tendency of getting lost in crowds,” Arata said.

Yukino gave him a confused expression.

“What?” Arata said.

“I don’t believe you. I don’t have any trouble with Ami in crowds,” Yukino said.

“That’s because you have a heat sensor on me,” Ami said in a joking manner.

Yukino smiled. “No,” she said. “It’s because my mommy senses know you are nearby. Speaking of. My mommy senses are tingling right now. How is your head feeling? Your back?”

“Wait? What?” Arata said completely shock.

“Oh? Ami didn’t tell you? My ex-agent shoved her into a wall. She has a concussion and bruises all over her back,” Yukino said.

“She didn’t tell me that,” Arata said. “I was referring to what you said before.”

“Yukino is my mother, Arata,” Ami said. “Mom, this is my boyfriend, Arata. Her TV personality is still her.”

“It doesn’t come out when I’m not on TV unless Ami is in danger,” Yukino said with a laugh. “Anyway, your head?”

“Is fine and no you cannot skip out on the interview,” Ami said.

“Aww,” Yukino said. “I want to spend more time with you and your boyfriend.”

“Oda Mia is your next possible agent. She should be waiting for you at K-Cafe in a few minutes,” Ami said.

“Fine,” Yukino said and pressed a kiss to Ami’s cheek before she let her go.

“Good luck,” Ami said. She turned her attention to Arata. “Arata, I’m so so-”

“It makes sense now. The reason why you ran off. Because I said I love Yukino who happens to be your mother,” Arata said as he stepped close to her.

“Yes, Arata. I told you that -”

Arata kissed her forehead. “I love you and only you, Ami. However, I really wish you’d told me that your mother was in town.”

Lily hid inside the store and acted like she was putting books away only to watch everything unfold. She bit her lip so hard to where a little blood escaped from her attempt to hide her squeals.

She bounced on her toes as she watched Arata give Ami a true kiss for a change and lead her to the elevator. Once they were outside she couldn’t contain her squeals of excitement and scared some of the customers.

“That was so much better than an episode of a soap drama!” she said. “So glad I came to work today!”

#digimon #digimon story #digimon story cyber sleuth #Ami Aiba #arata x ami #Arata Sanada #fugitiveshipping #dialogue prompt #been sitting in my drafts for like ever

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doumekiss · 4 years

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reconstruction (xxxholic fanfic)

Watanuki, Doumeki, Himawari // G // 1600 words // Fix Fic - POV second person What if Doumeki had used the egg to erase Watanuki’s memories of Yuuko ?

You don’t ask Doumeki what he wants for luch that day or the day after that. That’s an effort, it’s hard to spend the day without this and making food for him was not just something you did to make up for his many rescues but also a part of your routine that you reluctantly liked. He doesn’t seem to expect you to do however, he doesn’t come to ask what you did for him and when you say you don’t want to talk to him for a while he obeys. It was strange you always told him to leave you alone but he could always see when you really meant it. You cook just for yourself and you can taste your food again and feel as something bigger than just a matter of taste. You’re real, you can feel, you’re part of this world, the cost was great but everything is on the right track again. . . . Mokona and Kudakitsune will live with you in the apartment, not Maru and Moro however, they stay in the shop asleep until someone with enough power takes charge of the place. You ask Mokona to tell you how Tsubasa and the others traveling with the other Mokona are, and he does. You think you would feel if something was really wrong with Tsubasa, your souls are different, or became different, but your existence is connected with his and it will be like that until one of you two dies. You and this Mokona are probably the most similar beings in this aspect living in this universe. You also ask him to tell you a bit more about the Dimensional Witch. That makes him hesitate. You remember that one day you found a store and found someone there who said they could help you stop seeing the ayakashis in exchange for a certain amount of service. You remember the cases, the people you helped, and the people you weren’t able to save. But you don’t really remember her, her face or her voice, or the things she made you feel. Now there was a big hole in the place where there was something of great value before, something you had been willing to give up the whole world for the possibility of perhaps having again one day. . . . Himawari comes to visit you at your apartment over the weekend and this is a surprise, she has never done it before and you can see the reason why she thought it safe to do it there at the end of the hall. Doumeki doesn’t ask to enter with her and a part of you wanted him to do it just to say that you won’t allow it and knock the door in his face. But you allow yourself to ignore your anger for a moment, Himawari was there and this always makes the world seem a little better, a little softer. You wonder if the Dimensional Witch used to make you feel something similar. You both sit on the tip of the futton so as not to disturb Mokona and Kudakitsune who are both sleeping there. “So what do I owe the honor of your visit?” You ask. “I just wanted to see how you are, how you’re processing everything” “The idiot in the hall who asked you to come and ask me that?” “No, I came because I wanted to. Although I’m sure he’s also worried, he really loves you… you know that right? ” You don’t answer that, you decide to change the subject. “I made cake yesterday and I could make you some tea, would you like that?” “Yes, sure” “Well, you can stay here and I’ll be right back” When the water starts boiling Himawari appears at the kitchen door. “Watanuki-kun” “Yes ?” “Your computer was on and I noticed the page you were on” Oh, shit you think. “Sakura Kinomoto, is she who I think she is?” “Yes, she is the Sakura of this universe” “Your mother” “I’m not sure if I can really call her that, or even anyone like that. I couldn’t see her face before but I remembered her hand so clearly on my forehead when I was sick and she calling me Kimihiro, but now I don’t think these things really happened and if they happened they happened to Tsubasa and I just mixed things that happened to him about me, and it’s because of him that they sacrificed themselves, not for me. I am not their son, I am not a person, I am a side effect ” “Maybe it’s your memories, you told me that everything about your childhood and your time before coming here is confusing and complicated. Are you absolutely sure you’ve never interacted with her? ” “No” “And you know even if you haven’t had a mother you’re still a person, and you have relationships that are definitely real, I love you, Doumeki loves you, Kohane loves you. You’re here, you’re real ” “Thank you” “I’d hug you now if I could” “I know” . . . In the days after the end of that part of your life you were still passing by the shop after school, the place seemed cold and empty. But not today, you can hear the sound of Maru and Moro playing in the garden and when you arrived near the gate there was someone there blocking the passage. You suppose that most people would find you two alike, he was just a little shorter tha you, and but he had dark hair, blue eye and glasses. But the biggest difference was a serene arrogance that had never been present on your face. And also power, of a type you had never met before but one that you could recognize. “You’re Clow” “Wrong, I’m just a reincarnation and only half really. My name is Eriol ” “No disrespect, but your previous incarnation complicated my life and the lives of many people I care about” “Yes, that was the kind of thing he used to do. If that makes any difference, he felt sorry for everything, and so do I ” “It doesn’t. But I think there is nothing to be done now. So you’re the new owner of the store? ” “Oh no, she is” Only then you notice that there is a redheaded woman sitting on the porch looking gently at you. “Hi, my name is Kimihiro Watanuki, I worked for the former owner of this shop and I would like to offer you my services” The woman came to you and took your hand. “Nice to meet you Watanuki-kun, my name is Kaho Mizuki and I’m araid I can not accept your offer” “Why not?” “Payment. Your services would be too valuable for me to pay, and any desire you have is not one that I can grant it. ” “So what am I supposed to do now?” “Go live your life I guess” . . . You weren’t sure where you were going until you got there, but when you arrived you marched into the temple as if you were 100% centain on everything. You found Doumeki in the yard sweeping the leaves, he stopped when he saw you. “I want to talk to you asshole,” you announced. “Allright. Speak” “You had no right to do what you did. I was already forgetting a lot of things, I didn’t even remember the faces of my parents. It was selfish of you to ignore my desires of what I wanted to do with my life and my mind ” Doumeki kept looking at you for a long time, and when you were about to yell at him and ask him if he had nothing to say he said, “You’re right. I didn’t just do it for you, I did it for myself too. Because I wanted you living in the world ” “This isn’t an apology” “No, it’s not. And you will not get one from me. Not when it comes to this. If you’re going to hate me for what I did I can live with that, but I do not regret anything and I will not apologize ” You can feel your anger boiling, and you leave without saying goodbye. You keep arguing with him in your mind on the way to the supermarket and also back home, and in the kitchen making the snacks for tomorrow, you don’t remember your dreams that night you’re almost sure you were fighting with him in those too . You’re waiting for him in front of his class room when the lunch bell rings and you place the wrapping you made in his hands.

He seems surprised by the sight of you. “What is this?” He asks. “A bento and some other things. But before you start eating I want you to be aware that you don’t deserve this delicious bento or the pleasure of my company and also of Himawari-chan. However I in my infinite generosity decided to take pity on your pathetic self and allow you to continue lunching with us until graduation, and only because there are only a few months left for this and soon I will not have any reason to have you in my life again and - Hey! I’d told you not to start eating before I finish! ” You two walk side by side to your usual lunch place, Himawari is there waiting, and when she sees that you two are together her smile, which is always beautiful, shines brighter than ever. You sit down and you three eat together until the bell rings again. The world feels like it’s in the right place, and for once so do you.

Also available on ao3

#my writing #xxxholic #himawari kunogi #shizuka doumeki #kimihiro watanuki #doumeki x watanuki #douwata #my fanfiction

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damaless · 5 years

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To All The Skaters I’ve Loved Before

This is my very first foray into writing fanfiction. I don’t know if I’ll be able to complete the whole thing I have in mind for it, but I thought I’d at least try to write the first chapter and see how it goes.

Chapter One

Waiting for luggage is the worst. If everyone would stay a few feet back from the conveyor belt, it would be easy for anyone to spot their luggage coming and step forward to get it. Instead, everyone crowds close, jostling each other out of desperation to retrieve their belongings as quickly as possible, making the process more inefficient and unpleasant all around. Normally, Yuuri Katsuki makes sure to travel light enough to fit everything in a carry-on, to avoid this exact situation. But now, returning to his hometown after failing miserably at the Grand Prix Final, he’s stuck here, hovering at the edge of the crowd, waiting for all of his earthly possessions to be carelessly tossed down a chute. Finally, the mob has dispersed, and he sees his bags making their way forlornly around the curve. Taking them in hand, he turns and continues on to the next leg of his trip.

It’s mid-afternoon when he arrives in Hasetsu, but he finds himself blinking blearily and fighting sleep. That’s what he gets for blowing up his career and having to travel halfway around the world to lick his wounds, he supposes. Someone shouts his name and he jerks around to find the source. Minako is there, apparently waiting for him, leg extended behind her in a beautiful arabesque. He smiles in spite of himself. A dancer will always be a dancer… will a skater always be a skater?

“You didn’t have to come get me, Minako,” Yuuri says, mouth twisting. He is going to be enough of a burden on his family and friends in the coming months, he doesn’t need them acting as his chauffeurs on top of everything. “I could have taken a cab.”

Minako rolls her eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous. You haven’t been home for years. We wanted you to have a proper welcome. Your parents and Mari would be here too, if they weren’t busy at the onsen.”

He looks at the sign she’s holding, now. Large, somewhat messy letters spell out, ‘Welcome Home, Uncle Yuuri!’, and glitter is scattered haphazardly all around them. It looks like it was made by a child. Or children. Yuuko’s triplets, maybe? That’s cute. He’s looking forward to meeting them; he’s heard they are quite the mischief-makers, though.

Yuuri follows Minako back to her car, trying to avoid looking at all the skating posters of himself around town. How embarrassing, now that he’s failed so thoroughly. The car ride goes quickly enough, with them chatting a bit about his life in America and how things have been back here in Hasetsu while he’s been gone. When they arrive at the onsen, he does his best to struggle through properly greeting his parents and sister, but he can barely keep his eyes open and they shuffle him off to his room after just a few minutes.

Closing the door to his room behind him, he huffs a sigh and looks around. He cringes internally at all the posters of Victor Nikiforov that are still lining the walls of his room. Victor is an amazing skater, but remembering the crush he held onto for most of his teenage years is uncomfortable. All of the years of training and living abroad to claw his way into the ranks that were worthy to skate on the same ice as Victor, all thrown away over the course of a few disastrous days. He feels a pang in his heart, thinking of how different things are to how he had expected to return home. Vicchan, running up to him with her tail wagging, jumping up and down for attention. People cheering for their hometown’s skating success story. Yuuri returning feeling accomplished and fulfilled, instead of directionless and insignificant.

Shaking himself, he sets to the task of unpacking, as much as he can do before passing out, anyway. Unzipping his largest suitcase, he carefully removes the old shoebox containing his deepest secrets. He lifts the lid and sifts through the envelopes inside. Sometimes he finds it hard to believe that he’s held onto these letters for all these years, but every time he’s thought of getting rid of them, it feels like he would be getting rid of a part of himself. Each of these letters feels like a representation of a different time in his life, even if none of them are particularly applicable at the moment. The names jump out at him as he places them back in the box one by one.

Yuuko, his childhood friend.

Mei Nakamura, from skate camp, over a decade ago.

Victor Nikiforov, of course.

Jeremy Meyers, an American skater from his first international junior competition.

And Phichit Chulanont.

Everyone he’s ever been in love with. Yuuri is very good at articulating his feelings. On paper. In a letter to be sealed in a box and never sent. In person? Not a chance. And a good thing, too, because his feelings of romance have always faded over time. When Yuuri had first met Phichit, he had fallen hard and fast. Phichit was just so alive and energetic, he had a magnetism to him that made it impossible to look away. Yuuri had needed to get his feelings down on paper before they came spilling out his mouth and making a fool of him. Of course, Phichit had turned out to be an amazing roommate and training partner, and while Yuuri considered Phichit to be a treasured friend and was sad to be apart from him now, the idea of a relationship was laughable.

As for the rest, he had been “in love” with Yuuko at seven years old, had known Mei Nakamura for all of two weeks, and had had one conversation with Jeremy Meyers that happened to coincide with an especially inconvenient rush of teenage hormones. And Victor Nikoforov… well, his bi awakening had to happen sometime, and everyone is entitled to a celebrity crush or two, right? Yes, it’s a good thing he restricts his thoughts of romance to the form of secret letters that will never see the light of day. He doesn’t need the potential complications and heartbreak of an actual relationship.

He replaces the lid of the box and sets it aside. He shoves a few handfuls of clothes into drawers until the suitcase is mostly empty. Blinking blearily, he falls back on his bed and decides the rest can wait until his body has recovered from the abuse of the last twenty-four hours of travel.

***

Axel has admired Uncle Yuuri for all her life, even though she’s never met him. She and Lutz and Loop faithfully watch every competition, collect every poster, and grab Mama’s phone whenever they can, to check Uncle Yuuri’s roommate’s instagram for new pictures of him. Ever since Mama told her that Uncle Yuuri is coming home she has been asking when she will be able to see him. She doesn’t understand why Mama gets so frustrated when she asks again, now; it’s been at least five minutes since the last time she asked.

The walk over to the onsen is taking forever. And it’s boring. It would be so much better if people could skate wherever they needed to go. Uncle Yuuri would probably want to skate instead of walk, too. Here they are, now. Auntie Mari says that Uncle Yuuri is sleeping and they have to wait until next time to meet him. But Axel really wants to meet him now; she’s been waiting forever, so that’s more important. A quick huddle with Lutz and Loop and the special triplet sneak technique is in action, allowing Axel to get away without the grownups noticing, while the other two make it seem like all three of them are still there.

Down the hall and to the left is Uncle Yuuri’s old room. One time, she and Lutz and Loop were supposed to stay overnight at Grandma’s house, but she missed her own room so much, she couldn’t fall asleep and had to go back home. Uncle Yuuri has probably been missing his room all this time, and that’s where he would want to sleep now. She carefully nudges the door open and peers inside. She barely contains her excited gasp as she realizes she was right; Uncle Yuuri is here, sprawled out on his bed, and a bit of drool is dribbling out of the corner of his mouth.

“Uncle Yuuri, wake up!” she whispers, as loudly as she dares, because if a grownup back in the main room hears her they will come and get her before she can talk to Uncle Yuuri. “Uncle Yuuri, we walked all the way to the onsen to meet you and we’ve been waiting forever. Please wake up so I can tell you how I can skate almost as amazing as you, and then you can go right back to sleep, I promise.”

Axel reaches out to poke him in the side, but he just grumbles in his sleep and rolls over. He’s not waking up. Maybe he’s too sleepy. Her lower lip starts to tremble and she fights back tears. This is just so disappointing. She’s waited so long. Uncle Yuuri shifts again and something falls to the floor with a soft thump. A box is upside-down on the floor and the lid has come off. She bends down to look and finds a few letters. Axel loves getting letters in the mail, and she’s been asking Mama if she can send a letter to a friend sometime. Uncle Yuuri is probably going to be really busy with all the friends and family who want to see him again now that he’s back home... and Papa says if she’s going to be sneaky she should try doing nice sneaky things instead of ‘mischief’.

Her mind is made up. She collects all the letters that fell out of the box. She’s going to do a nice sneaky thing and put Uncle Yuuri’s letters in the mail for him.

#yoi #yuuri katsuki #victor nikiforov #victuuri #to all the boys i've loved before #to all the skaters i've loved before #yoi au #tatbilb #tatbilb AU #first fanfic #yuri on ice #long post

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medea10 · 5 years

Text

My Review of The Promised Neverland

#anime review #the promised neverland #yakusoku no neverland #isabella #emma #ray #norman #phil #sister krone

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fifteenleads · 5 years

Text

The Gift

Written for the @yoilitmag (Third Issue).

Drip.

Drip. Drip.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

Yuuri tried to ignore the saliva trickling down his shoulder that only he could feel. One’s first instinct would usually be to jump away from the source of the disgusting matter - or scream, whichever came first. He certainly did, as a child, but no one really understood him.

That said, though, Yuuri never really had a normal childhood.

It was unnerving, to say the least, how he even got used to all this in the first place-- that is to say, he never did. He remembered how he could only sit dully on the floor as his mother cried and begged the temple priest to “please exorcise the living demons out of this child” while hugging him so tight, he thought he’d lose his own living breath instead.

Not a good memory to look back on.

He’d learned to keep quiet in middle school - certainly no one would think any better of a plain, bespectacled boy who could see… things he shouldn’t see. Back then, he was called a handful of names, each as hurtful as the other. Crying only made things worse; besides, the “things,” for some reason, enjoyed seeing him in tears.

By high school, Yuuri was practically nonexistent in his class, aside from the occasional rumor that he was a ghost and that he could curse people - funny how their assumptions were both correct and far off at the same time. He whiled away his time in the library, studying the creatures that bothered him and using what he learned to his advantage. He had always been an observant boy; adapting came easier to him than to most.

Still, he wished he didn’t have this “gift.” Not that wishes ever came true, anyway.

Sighing, Yuuri finished his water in a few gulps and put the glass down with a heavy thud. The startled black blob with a single eye distanced itself before letting out an unnaturally high-pitched squeal, which he pretended not to notice. These types tended to leave him after five minutes of no attention.

He asked for the bill after that.

Researching Russia’s yokai sounded like a good idea right now. It always helped to be prepared.

The rusalka did not at all resemble its likeness in pictures.

For starters, it was a male, albeit with long hair. Looked like a female, but not quite.

The first thing Yuuri thought as he ran away was that he shouldn’t have consulted Wikipedia in the first place.

In his twenty-three years of life, he’d never had the unpleasant experience of turning people down, even more so nonhuman beings that are apparently after his heart. He remembered Takeshi joking about what he’d do if he ended up with a yokai lover someday. Yuuri couldn’t help but chuckle inwardly at the brief memory; Takeshi and Yuuko were the only two people who even befriended him at all. Good people, they really were.

This predicament, he thought next, must have been his punishment for not having been a more sociable person. Maybe he should have confessed to Victor Nikiforov or something when he had the chance - he didn’t know.

The third thing he thought as he fell on the pavement and the rusalka pounced on him was that he was going to die. A relief in itself, but not quite.

None of it was.

A cool breeze awakened Yuuri from his slumber. He instinctively put an arm over his eyes; even the faintest light hurt. As he gingerly sat himself up on the grass, the claw marks on his forearm began to itch.

The creature after his life was gone for now, at least. Great.

It didn’t take him long to regain his bearings; granted, he always had to keep himself on guard for so long now, it was almost as easy as feeding himself.

Yuuri was not prepared for what came next, however.

Before him stood what seemed to look like an old two-storey dacha with slate roof tiles and a varnished wood exterior, surrounded by a well-maintained garden of white flowers. A wooden door with iron lattice-work served as the main entrance. The whole sight was very much out of place, located smack dab in between various high-rise apartments for some reason.

It felt as if he stepped into a totally different dimension, altogether.

Yuuri carefully approached the house, peering into the windows apprehensively. It was only after ascertaining that no one was in that he let himself in.

The interior smelled of a mixture of old wood and light mildew, the kind that reminded him of the local temple back at home. As he ventured deeper inside, he was greeted by the sight of circular shelves of books, with sunlight filtering through a dome made of stained glass. It was eerily quiet, yet comforting at the same time.

Maybe too quiet.

Following his best judgment, Yuuri slowly backed away once more. If past experience has taught him well, it wouldn’t do to stay too long in suspicious places alone.

As he turned around to leave, he bumped into something warm.

Victor Nikiforov stared back, his blue eyes twinkling in amusement. Long, silver hair reflected the pale sunlight, and his clothes, though unusually shabby, looked as if they glittered like gold.

Yuuri instantly forgot how to breathe.

“Where exactly am I?”

“A library, as you can see. Not an ordinary one, though, as you’ve probably guessed.”

This is definitely not how Yuuri imagined how his first conversation with Victor would go. He’d only seen the Russian star once or twice on TV during the last Winter Games, but for some reason, Victor was the last person he thought of before he ended up in this… situation.

“Are you really… Victor?”

This earned a chuckle in response, and the dimple that formed when he smiled was adorable. “Yes and no. Do I look like him to you?”

With an audible gulp, Yuuri nodded.

“Then I am Victor.”

Victor - or whoever this was, smiled warmly at him. “Why this person?”

The question, spoken in Victor’s voice, from Victor’s own lips, was nothing short of strange, to say the least. The resemblance was definitely more than striking, it was like he was exactly the same person. For Yuuri, however, this did not explain anything.

After a moment of contemplation, Victor laughed heartily. “I see. You must be fond of him.”

Yuuri promptly choked on his water, heat rising in his cheeks.

“Say, Yuuri,” Victor pronounced his name in a gentle croon, “tell me more about yourself.”

Yuuri found himself leaving from university much earlier than usual these days. The traffic was much less than during rush hour, leaving him with more time to explore the city. He’d get off a stop before his apartment every time, taking a shortcut through the park.

The library waited for him every time he emerged from the forest, looking the same as it did when he first arrived. So did Victor, with cups of tea in hand and a fond smile on his lips.

Yuuri at once noticed how no creatures dared to approach him whenever he was in the vicinity of the library. Rather, it was as if he ceased to be able to see them during these times. The relief he felt at this was indescribable, as if the walls around him were taken down and he could breathe freely once more.

“You have that gift, it seems,” Victor once told him in observation. “One that attracts the fae and their favors to you. As with most things, it is both a blessing and a curse.”

It was not at all surprising, Yuuri thought, considering how often he attracted trouble and found himself in problematic, even life-threatening situations for as long as he could remember. Still, he was glad things turned out this way, what with all of it leading up to meeting and spending time with one of his favorite people this often.

He was painfully aware that this was not Victor Nikiforov, but still. Still.

A couple of weeks passed, and Yuuri started spending all-nighters in the library doing his homework. Dinner was always a hearty experience, even with just the two of them exchanging stories over piping hot soup and meat pies. It was evident how much Victor enjoyed having someone around after so long, having expressed as much to Yuuri one night over fruit and wine.

“Twenty-three is quite a small number, if you ask me. You still have a lot to learn.”

“You’re not much older, either, Victor.”

“At least I’m young and handsome. I’ll miss looking like this after you stop coming here.”

And it pained Yuuri to see the longing in those blue eyes, but he knew that this, too, will soon end.

Still, he wished it never would. Not that wishes ever came true, anyway.

He was terribly, painfully aware of that.

One day, Victor gave Yuuri an old picture book.

It was a thin, hard-bound copy of what seemed like an old Russian fairy tale, if the colorful phoenix was of any indication. Yuuri began to untie the straw cord that was wrapped around it, but Victor immediately seized his hand.

“Don’t open it yet,” he said, a bit too firmly than what Yuuri was used to. He caught himself quickly, however, immediately loosening his grip.

“It’s a surprise, Yuuri,” he added, with a forced smile. And as if that weren’t cryptic enough: “Promise me.”

The look in Victor’s eyes pleaded with Yuuri to not ask. It hurt so much.

“... Okay, I guess. But how do I know?”

“Trust me, you’ll know when.”

Yuuri often recalled this moment, as Victor suddenly became more distant from him. They still spent time together every day, but fewer and fewer words were exchanged between them, until everything blurred into a massive cloud of awkward silence.

The book-- Victor’s gift, remained their sole connection to each other. It was constantly by his side, reminding him of the friendship they had. The day he’d gotten it felt like it only happened yesterday, and he would regret--

Even though he promised not to open it.

Blinking back his tears, Yuuri excused himself, asking to go home.

He saw, too, in the way Victor’s blue eyes were dark and hazy, how much this hurt him-- both of them. But he wanted to believe, still. There had to be a reason.

It came the next day, unexpectedly, when Yuuri found an empty lot where the library used to stand.

Yuuri didn’t know how long he had been asleep for. His body felt unusually exhausted for some reason, and it felt as if he’d forgotten something for the day. Nothing in his apartment was out of place, however, and the trash had already been brought out.

He can’t even remember what he had been crying about.

He decided to get food, just in case.

Every step he took away from the building felt heavy, and a voice repeatedly echoed in his mind to return home. He did not heed it, deeming himself far past the stage of fearing monsters at his age.

There are no monsters, Yuuri told himself, before moving on.

It did not assuage the unease in his heart at all.

Something-- something , nagging at the back of his mind--

No sooner had he exited the bakery than the ground shook beneath his feet, causing him to lose balance and fall hard on his back. The few people left on the street started running for cover, one of whom dropped a handful of silver coins that rolled to where he lay. The resulting reflection of lights blinded Yuuri, and for a moment he thought he saw an old house on fire, a flash of silver hair--

“Forgive me.”

The bread rolls Yuuri bought joined the coins on the floor, dirtied and forgotten.

Yuuri’s lungs burned painfully, the need for oxygen rapidly overtaking the fatigue in his legs. But he ran, still, as far as his legs would take him. He didn’t know where he was headed, but his body seemed to remember where to go.

There was somewhere-- someone he needed to be with.

And he was close-- very, terribly close--

He finally collapsed on the pavement before a seemingly-empty lot, where a dilapidated, empty house burned brightly between rows of apartments. Heavy chains clinked in the distance, as if being dragged, growing louder by the second.

The last thing Yuuri heard is his name being shouted in agony before his world turned black.

“--uri! Yuuri! Wake up!”

Yuuri was vigorously shaken awake by firm hands and an panicked voice, claws digging deep into his shoulders. The air around him was hot, and the sky blackened with thick smoke.

Without warning, he found himself being pulled away by another set of claws much longer than the first. He is greeted by a large, humanoid creature with long, stringy hair, a scarred, blackened face, and pointed teeth.

“Mine,” it hissed. “You’re mine.”

The rusalka .

It had come back to take his life.

Yuuri’s eyed promptly widened in terror. He was going to die this time, for real.

All of a sudden, everything came rushing back-- the creatures, the house, Victor--

Suddenly, as if an answer to his unsaid prayer, chains were wrapped around the rusalka’s neck, causing it to fall to the ground as it gasped for breath. The first set of arms wrapped themselves around him, and there was Victor again, crying on his shoulder.

“Yuuri… Yuuri…”

Still bewildered, Yuuri raised a hand to gently stroke Victor’s hair. It was not the thick, shiny, perfectly maintained mane that he once knew from before-- that is to say, there was none. His face was that of an older man’s, with multiple wrinkles and scars, and pointed ears akin to those of elven folk. Only the voice it produced was that of Victor’s, Yuuri realized.

But how, he wanted to ask. He did not understand.

“ Domovoy, ” Victor spoke, as if sensing Yuuri’s confusion. “In a sense, I am what you’d call a household god, similar to your country’s zashiki-warashi .”

“I was supposed to protect this library at all costs. But I was weak.” Victor laughs dejectedly, tears running down his aged eyes. “I couldn’t prevent this from happening. I couldn’t protect you.”

Yuuri bit his lip, slowly putting everything together. “You knew it was coming back. So you sent me away.”

“Oh, who knows?” Victor’s hold on Yuuri suddenly weakened, his strength finally leaving him.

“Victor!”

“No, Yuuri, listen to me.” Victor looked up at him, his ocean blue ones clearer than ever despite his appearance. “You are strong. You know this. Think of everything you’ve been through.

“Stop talking, please!”

“Those hardships you’ve been through-- don’t let it go to waste. Only you can decide what to make of them.”

Yuuri did not respond anymore, cradling Victor’s form in his trembling arms. Smiling, Victor produced a worn, rusted band, placing it into the center of Yuuri’s palm. “A remembrance of me?”

It was very much like him, Yuuri thought, charming until the last moment. He might have loved Victor-- this domovoy , he realized. Was it because he was Victor, or was it something else? Why did all this happen?

Yuuri wept silently as everything faded away, and he was left there, all alone.

He’d never know now.

A year passed in the blink of an eye.

Everyone was surprised at how much more outgoing Yuuri had now become. Minako had been the most shocked, immediately attributing the change to a newfound boyfriend.

“But I don’t have one, Minako- sensei .”

“Then explain that ring on your finger,” she accused. “You don’t just suddenly get an ancient heirloom like that from anywhere. Now spill.”

Had Takeshi known of this, too, he wouldn’t ever hear the end of it. Funny really, how things turned out. Victor certainly would laugh.

“It’s… a charm,” he settled on saying. “From someone I got to know.”

“Hmmmm,” Minako nodded slowly, unconvinced. This Yuuri did not deign to reply. It was, after all, a part-truth, in his defense. He noted how he isn’t able to see the creatures ever since he had it in his possession. It was as if Victor had set him free, in a way.

The ring, although very important in itself, was not as close to his heart as Minako thought.

Once she finally left him alone, Yuuri brought out the old picture book from his bag. Its cover had lost much of its shine over the past year, and its pages have slowly become tattered. He flipped through each page slowly, tears brimming in his eyes.

A story was written on it, in Yuuri’s own handwriting.

It took him half a year to get over everything that had happened, before he finally decided it was time to read the book Victor had given him. It was all blank paper, save for the first page, on which were written: “Once upon a time.”

It was his second most precious treasure.

Meeting Victor was the first.

He was the gift that changed Yuuri’s life.

#yuri!!! on ice #yoilitmag #katsuki yuuri #victor nikiforov #magus bride OVA AU

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gremlinsae · 5 years

Text

Here is my @yoihomezine piece! Thank you to everyone who helped us raised $1649 for UNHCR!

My submission was a Yuri Plisetsky introspection piece. I hope y'all like it even though it's a bit angsty. 😅

Enjoy~

◇

Agape was difficult.

As Yuri exited the sit spin, he could feel his lungs burn with strain. Memorizing the elements was easy, but executing it made him realize that his senior debut was going to be on a level he never skated before. He was frustrated and Victor’s attitude was really grating on his nerves.

(The sting of Victor’s forgetfulness over the promise he made and his obvious pining over the pig even more so.)

Victor’s annoying clap reverberated against the rafters of Ice Castle, signaling for Yuri to stop mid-routine again. Victor stood on the ice, his stupid fake smile plastered on his face as he lectured Yuri about his supposed lack of feeling in On Love: Agape. Yuri swore that if Victor spouted some more philosophical whimsy about going to a temple he was going to take off one of his skates and chuck it at him.

“What does Agape mean to you?"

He actually put serious thought into the question, despite his abrasive answer and turning the question back on Victor himself. When Victor prattled on about some bullshit of agape being hard to define as it is a feeling, something intangible much like the love of God or a parent, Yuri scoffed at the idea.

In his fifteen years of life, he had never felt unconditional love from either.

Living with mom - Moscow, Russia

He had never known his father. By the time he was five years old, he understood that his father was out of the picture and never would be in it. It was up to him, and sometimes grandpa, to hold his mother’s hair back as she puked up that foul liquid she had been drinking all day; to rub her back as she sobbed and whimpered out half-assed apologies, yet still grabbing for the poison the next day like it was her lifeblood.

He started school smaller than the other kids, which was difficult enough without the concerned glances from his teachers and the visits to the counselor’s office where they would ask about what life was like at home. He never answered much. The school never intervened as there was no actual proof of abuse or neglect (and Yuri would never have defined it as such anyway) so they continued to let him take the school bus home where he’d find his mother sitting at the dining table with another drink, heavy bags under her eyes, as she fretted over the newest bill to arrive in the mail.

At seven years old, he had learned enough math to know they weren’t doing well - despite how hard his mother tried to hide it. Before he was born, she was ballerina with a bright future...until she got pregnant at seventeen. The damage to her reputation was harsh, but she managed to find a job as an instructor. The pay was meager, barely enough to support herself let alone a child, so she would eat less, go without, make sacrifices - all to make sure he had enough...the alcohol she abused was the only exception.

He never blamed her. Stress was high and inebriation was her only escape. He always felt guilty asking for anything, so to help out he would take quick, cold showers as to not run up the gas and water bills higher than they already were, shivering yet soldiering on. There were times where the power would go out, leaving the food in the fridge to rot and his mother to fret and overwork herself to try and make ends meet. At the end of each day, when she drank herself to an unconscious heap, he’d help her move from the dining room to her bedroom.

Rinse. Wash. Repeat.

It was difficult, but overall it wasn’t so bad. The winters were harsh in Moscow without heating, but at least they had each other and grandpa. There wasn’t much in the way of celebrating birthdays or holidays and it reached the point where he no longer asked - but even so, grandpa always made sure he had a decent pair of ice skates to practice in once he fell in love with the sport. He got through school like any other kid, ate enough that he wasn’t starving, and he got to ice skate after school every day for free. He had no complaints.

The best moments were when his mom was sober. It was hard to find her not drinking, the most excessive spells being at the end of the month when stress was high, but there were times few and far between where she would smile and spend her free time with him instead of at the bar or the dance studio. They would dance together and laugh, and on special occasions they would go to the animal shelter and cuddle with all of the kitties and she would promise that one day, when everything got better, she would adopt one for him.

It was hard, but he was happy. They were happy.

Until one afternoon he came home to find his mother, drunk and crying, with an eviction notice in her hand.

Hasetsu On Ice - Hasetsu, Kyushu, Japan

Leaving Ice Castle before the pig even finished his routine left a heavy weight in his stomach. Yuuko tried to cushion the blow somewhat, but he knew from the look on Victor’s face and that disgusting whistle at the beginning of Katsudon’s routine that he was fighting a losing battle.

Victor wasn’t coming back to Russia, and “Yurio” didn’t belong here.

He ignored the way his eyes burned as he said his last do svidanya to Yuuko, who had treated him with nothing but the kind of care and attention he wished he had received from his mother during his competitions and ice shows.

What he didn’t expect, as he was waiting in the terminal for his flight back to St. Petersburg, was to see his mother standing off to the side, waiting for him to notice her presence.

To say he was shocked was an understatement.

The bags under her eyes were less prominent, but she did not age well despite being only in her thirties. There was a certain heaviness in her features, the product of a lifetime of stress and addiction. Her smile was soft, her eyes bright, as if for the first time she was truly seeing him without the fog of inebriation.

“Your skate was lovely, Yura,” she began, her voice strained as if holding back tears. If he wasn’t so shocked, he would have corrected her - she had lost the right to call him by his diminutive years ago when she abandoned him. He was still trying to grasp that she was here, in Japan, and had watched his first performance of Agape.

A little too late, if you ask him, but yet he still paused, his saliva thick and his throat just slightly constricted from the overwhelming emotions waging war inside of him.

He didn’t stop her from sitting next to him, but the silence was uncomfortable.

A part of him wanted to rage - to demand answers, but even he knew that the situation was delicate. He never blamed her for the hardships of his life, no, and he knew that’s where most of her guilt came from. But the one question he never received answers for, the one that still made it difficult to look her in the eye, was why did she leave?

Why did she try so hard and sacrifice so much in order to support him in his early years if she was only going to abandon him later?

Did he even matter to her?

She let out a sigh, realizing that he had no intention of speaking with her. “I know there’s a lot I need to make up for,” she began, hesitating slightly as she twisted a handkerchief in her hands, “and I understand if you never forgive me, but I would like a chance to at least be here for you now, to support you in your career like I should have.” Her eyes began to water so she quickly dabbed them with the distressed handkerchief. “I won’t ask for anything else.”

The remainder of the trip home was silent. Yuri didn’t know how he felt about it, but as long as his mother didn’t distract him he would let her do whatever she wants.

But deep down, beyond the pain and anger, he felt a slight pang of nostalgia.

He had missed his mom.

Living with Nikolai - Moscow, Russia

Living with his grandpa started out great. He and his grandpa had always been close and the homemade pirozhki was a huge bonus. Winters were still harsh and the house was falling apart since his grandpa wasn’t exactly well off either, having been one of the victims of losing his job at the fall of the union, but he had enough for them to get by at least.

The hard part wasn’t living with grandpa…the hard part was watching his mother slowly wither away; overhearing the arguments his mother would get in with grandpa over her drinking, the angry voices and the shattering of liquor bottles as grandpa tried to convince her to get help and quit.

He pretended every morning that he didn’t hear a thing, but he knew grandpa saw through his facade. Grandpa always tried to make it up to him by getting him out of the house, usually to spend extra time at the skating rink, just so he didn’t have to watch his mother drink herself stupid or deal with the silence of her absence when she disappeared to who-knows-where.

He pretended he didn’t care. So what if his mom never showed up to watch him skate, to see him be chosen to participate in skating competitions and shows because he was getting better and better? So what if the house was now full of arguments and emotional breakdowns every other night?

He didn’t care.

He didn’t.

He kept skating with a single-minded focus. He would hear on the radio of Victor Nikiforov quickly becoming Russia’s living legend and he could feel the burn of determination, the desire to be the best skater of them all. He was only ten years old and he was already able to do jumps that kids in juniors were still struggling with and his spins were the best in his entire age group.

He would prove that he was strong.

He would.

As long as grandpa was able to show up to his competitions, he didn’t care if his mother never supported him.

The day his life changed forever was the day he was in a local competition at a small rink in Moscow. He had to take the bus - his grandpa complaining of back pains and his mother was too inebriated to drive - but he made it just on time. He didn’t have a fancy costume and his skates were in need of repair, but none of the other kids could top his skill, his flexibility, his choreography. He worked until his feet were bruised and bleeding and it was all worth it to have that golden medal placed around his neck.

As he stepped off the ice, he frantically looked for grandpa. Despite his back trouble, he promised he’d be there.

But he wasn’t.

It felt like his entire chest had caved in, crushed by the absence of the man he wanted to make proud. The excitement over his win was gone in an instant. He fought back tears, still continuing to look around to see if maybe, just maybe, he had missed his grandpa sitting farther away or...something…

An elderly man began to approach him, and for a brief moment he allowed himself to hope, but the old man wasn’t grandpa. His skin was tanned and he had significantly less hair on the top of his head. He didn’t walk with a limp and the square of his jaw was harsher, his eyes calculating.

The man held out his right arm to shake his hand. “Congratulations on gold, Yuri Plisetsky. My name is Yakov Feltsman.”

Rostelecom Cup - Moscow, Russia

Yuri tried to get through Agape, but the absence of grandpa left a sour taste in his mouth. His vision blurred and all he could feel was simmering contempt, not the lightness of the all-encompassing love he was supposed to demonstrate in the short program.

Victor and Yuuri yelling their support from the sidelines only enraged him further. He didn’t need them. It’s not like they meant it anyway.

No one ever did.

Yakov and Lilia tried to keep him grounded, but his focus was lost. He got through the skate with little to no error, but he knew he would have to over-perform in his free if he wanted to win and rub his victory in JJ’s smug face.

And when Victor had to suddenly return to Japan, leaving Katsudon to compete by himself...he felt pity.

It was strange feeling empathy towards the pig, but he knew the feeling of abandonment and he knew it well. Even though Victor’s absence was temporary, having a loved one leave in the middle of something that’s important to you always left a gaping hole behind. During practice the morning before the free skate, Yuuri was flubbing his jumps more so than usual.

He pretended he didn’t care.

...but he did.

Later on, Grandpa made up his absence to him with an entire bag of pirozhki. Grandpa was his inspiration for his Agape for this reason because even though he had disappointed him just as much as his mother did, he at least tried. He didn’t make excuses, he didn’t give senseless apologies and self-depreciating anecdotes. He just showed up once his back healed with a pile of pirozhki or some words of encouragement. Grandpa never doubted him, never underestimated his strength. He had faith that Yuri could overcome any obstacle and it was a relieving to have someone who didn’t dance around his emotions like he was a child.

The gift also gave him an idea to help cheer Katsudon up...just this once.

The free skate was hell, his whole body burning with exhaustion. He felt a searing pain in his right thigh that had him worried of a pulled muscle and a twitch in his left hip that made his entire leg shake, but he pulled it off and managed to make it into first with only JJ and Katsudon left. He was proud, and the smile on his grandpa’s face made him even more excited, and for once he felt confident enough to cheer Katsudon on…

JJ’s comment made him pause. So what if he low-key considered Katsudon a friend? At least he wasn’t as bad as Victor. Katsudon’s skate was still beautiful, despite his inconsistencies with the quad flip. He would never admit it to anyone, but if the pig had anything it was his step sequences and overall emotion in his choreography.

He tried to ignore it, to save face in front of JJ, but it was difficult to tear his eyes away.

Huh…

Katsudon and Victor really do love each other.

Living alone - St. Petersburg, Russia

The government sponsorship was a dream come true. He had been scouted as a potential candidate for the 2016 Winter Youth Olympics to represent Russia, and with it all came his own apartment in St. Petersburg and a coaching contract with the Yakov Feltsman.

The only contingent was that he must win most of his competitions. Yuri was just fine with that.

The summer after his first gold medal was spent in Yakov’s junior training camp. He had never taken formal ballet lessons before and yet he was still one of the best in the class - whispers of him being the next Victor Nikiforov began circling due to his natural talent. He took the praise, but he never lost sight of what was important.

Grandpa was unable to move to St. Petersburg, his health as well as his livelihood in Moscow preventing him, but his mother tagged along and for the first time in years he felt excited. It would be just like old times with her - only this time they had enough and she wouldn’t have to drink away her sorrows. They could start living the good life if Yuri continued to skate well and he knew he would. He was dominating in beginner competitions and he would be able to skate at the junior level in two years, the Youth Olympics in four, and seniors in five. The private sponsorships would start rolling in and he’d be set.

His mom wouldn’t have to worry about anything from now on. She had exhausted herself to be there for him, now it was his turn to take care of her.

...or so he thought.

He almost couldn’t believe it, but his mother actually drank more. There was never a time that she wasn’t drinking, even when she was sick and hungover. Yuri would leave early in the morning and his mother would be on the balcony, a cigarette in one hand and a bottle of liquor in the other. He would come home for lunch most days just to try and spend some time with her, but she would be gone...no note, no explanation, and she wouldn’t return until late in the evening.

It wasn’t until he was a little older that he realized the reason she always wore long sleeves wasn’t because she was cold. She kept it well hidden and out of his apartment, but it soon became obvious that alcohol was no longer her only vice.

The parts that hurt the most were the few times he did manage to run into her. She would avoid eye contact, keep her answers short, and he could see the shame in her body language yet she did nothing about it. The dark circles under her eyes were a permanent fixture, she was too thin, and she was always scratching at the marks down her arms. They would fight, yell and scream at each other similar to the way she did with grandpa, but he wasn’t patient like grandpa was.

It was always “I don't need therapy, Yura” or “It's nothing Yura, don't worry about me” until his temper would hit a breaking point. She'd make excuses, disregard how much damage she was doing to her body, the damage she was doing to him every time she left. She would cry and moan of how she was a terrible mother as if to make him feel sorry for her, to make him pity and put up with her self destruction all so she didn't have to take responsibility for her own actions.

Things were finally improving for them, why couldn’t she just try? Why would she actively work toward destroying everything they worked for? He was willing to take care of her, to give her the time to recover until she could go back to teaching dance again. None of it made sense to him and it made him inexplicably angry.

Why couldn’t she at least be happy for him? He had accomplished so much in a short amount of time and not once did she ever say that she was proud of him. In fact, with his success, she only seemed to become more disappointed, more distant…

The image of his mother became tarnished and their relationship strained. The last thing he heard from her before she disappeared was a handwritten note left on his coffee table.

I’m sorry.

Grand Prix Final - Barcelona, Spain

Yuri Plisetsky had the unforgettable eyes of a soldier.

The words echoed back at him at he lay in his hotel bed. Meeting Otabek was an interesting experience, considering he never had a friend around his age. Growing up, he was mostly ignored as he had a “bad attitude” - and later, he focused more on skating rather than socializing. It felt nice to finally find someone who took him seriously and genuinely wanted to be his friend.

Yet he also felt hesitation. He never talked to Otabek before and yet Otabek was able to see the parts of him that he usually kept guarded.

The vulnerability was scary.

Was that what he had been missing? He had loved ones that he kept close, but he never allowed himself to be vulnerable with them. With his mom, he put on a brave face for her so that she wouldn’t stress out more. With grandpa, he hid his disappointment because he knew it wasn’t his grandpa’s fault that his health was declining. Even with Victor and Yuuri, who he was close to regardless of his annoyance with them, he refused to show them the parts of himself he’d rather keep hidden. Victor had a habit of making light of the situation by teasing him, which made him even more hesitant to share. Katsudon was a bit better, listening without making the situation awkward or giving him unnecessary advice and pity, but he still struggled separating Katsudon from Victor that getting close to him felt awkward.

The engagement announcement still made him sick. Who got engaged so early in a relationship?

Those two were too sentimental, too hopeful…

Too lonely.

That’s the thought he had as he found Victor staring out at the sea the next morning. The sight of Victor’s defeated expression caught him off guard. His first instinct was to wipe that pathetic look off of Victor’s face so he kicked him until it disappeared.

Yuri didn’t pretend that he didn’t understand. Victor had been the top skater for Russia for longer than most people were in the sport. Dedicating your life to your craft always made it hard to make friends, spend time with family, process trauma...he turned and walked away quickly so Victor couldn’t see his momentary flash of empathy. He might understand, but it's no excuse to just give it up - to throw it all away.

Maybe what they all needed was balance.

“The ocean here reminds me of Hasetsu,” he commented dryly, giving voice to at least some of his thoughts. Victor smiled in response and something clicked into place.

Russia was no longer home for Victor. Victor found something in Hasetsu, in Yuuri, that gave him a sense of peace that skating never could.

Yuri walked away feeling more at war with himself. The last twenty-four hours gave him too much to process.

Living with mom was full of love, but there were too many empty promises and stress was always high. Living with grandpa was full of pirozhki and quality time with his family, but also full of anger and disappointment. Living on his own wasn’t what he had hoped, full of resentment and loneliness from his mother’s abandonment. Living with Yakov and Lilia was an experience, but it was purely professional and reeked of a broken home with their strained relationship from the divorce. He briefly thought of Yutopia Katsuki and Ice Castle, and while he didn’t consider Hasetsu a home he did feel more at ease around Katsudon’s friends and family - but being forgotten by Victor and his loss against Katsudon made his visit bitter.

The more Yuri thought about it, the more he wondered…

Where did he belong?

He carried the question with him as he prepared for the short program. He felt calm as he thought about everything, ignoring the skaters before him. He knew his grandpa was watching the live stream, as well as his mother who was living with grandpa again, and the Katsuki’s were having a viewing party according to Yuuko’s texts. He had the support of so many people, even his own competitors, and he thought of them all as he finally stepped out onto the ice.

His mind was blank, nothing but his feelings - the good, the bad, the old, the new - for his loved ones.

For three and a half minutes, he finally felt like he was home.

#yuri on ice #yoi #yuri plisetsky #yoi home zine #okaeri zine

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