#i am so grateful for otabek altin

[runespoor7]

I’m very invested in Yuri crushing on Yuuri(’s skating).

Because Yuuri had Victor Nikiforov as a role-model, and he’s only four years younger; Yuri is 15; Victor Nikiforov has been Victor Nikiforov, Living Legend for as long as Yuri can remember;

Because Yakov - who is an excellent coach, who brought Lilia on to train Yuri - still thinks of Vitya when Yuri performs a world-record breaking Agape;

Because everything is setting Yuri up as Victor Nikiforov Mk II, but Lillia encourages Yuri on a different path both when she tells him she’ll make him a prima ballerina and when she recognizes he’s made himself something else;

Because “not everyone grows up looking up to Victor Nikiforov”;

Because Victor might have fallen for Yuuri, but Yuri saw him first, saw his step sequences, while Victor didn’t recognize him; 

Because Yuuri has the same name as him, and this complete baby dork decided it was a sign and rushed after this older skater whom he really admired to deliver the peptalk from hell, in perfect Feltman tradition filtered through teenage over-emotional investment, that amounted to “how dare you fail this/us/me” with copious undertones of “i’ll give you something to be push back against so anger propels you out of your funk, ‘kay? i’m insulting you right now because i know you can do so much better than that, why didn’t you show me, show them, better?” (it would work on Yuri, making himself angry to overcome difficulty. hashtag the motherfucking Rostelecom Cup. Also: Yuri’s entire existence.);

Because Yuuri is Yuri’s choice, really. 

Everything about where Yuri lives tells him to look up to Victor Nikiforov. And he does, because that’s what the world of figure skating is in the era of Victor Nikiforov. He didn’t stumble onto his reputation of Living Legend. But Yuuri Katsuki? Yuuri’s the person-to-look-up-to Yuri chose himself. Nothing predestines Yuuri to be an inspiration for young Russian skaters. Yuuri doesn’t have Victor’s ludicrous victory list.

For a kid with as much raw ambition as Yuri, choosing Yuuri as a rival is a bit restrained.

I don’t think rivalry covers it, really. That Yuri “rage makes up 90% of my body” Plisetsky expresses his feelings in a way that resembles it isn’t exactly surprising, but like his professing to hate Yuuri (because Yuri totally goes out of his way to chase the people he hates, especially after they’ve had a rough day, and sometimes he also feeds them special food his grandfather made for him! ...well, no, he doesn’t. Compare Yuri repeatedly getting in Yuuri’s way with his interactions with JJ; Yuri is never the first one to talk to JJ.), we should look deeper than that. Yuuri hasn’t achieved anything yet that Yuri would want to surpass. (Victor has.) 

Let’s not even kid ourselves that Yuri’s Victor issues don’t play into his thing for Yuuri. And vice-versa. (between the fact that in both cases, Yuri was there first - first one to be wowed by Yuuri’s step-sequences, first one Victor promised a program to - and the fact that Yuuri turned out to be a Huge Victor Nikifrorov fanboy and what does that mean for Yuri’s attempt to be his own person if the other person he looks up to also turns out to look up to Victor, and the fact that these two skaters Yuri decided were worth his attention decided he wasn’t worth theirs - because that’s what the showdown at the Ice Castle proved - and then Yuri throws himself into Lilia’s training to remake himself... and the canon relationships don’t stay static, so what i’m saying is: Yuri being mortified when Victuuri cheers on him at Rostelecom, for instance, is layers upon layers.)

If Yuri says he wants to beat Yuuri, the part we should pay attention to isn’t so much “beat”, as the ideas 1)Yuuri will have done something worth noticing (beating), 2)Yuri would really like Yuuri to notice him, sempai.

“I really like/look up to you, so you should hurry up and show everyone why I’m right to think you’re amazing, don’t you want to prove me wrong, they say you’re retiring, don’t you want to prove them all wrong?”

Tell me, Yuri Plisetsky. In front of your coach who wants you to go easy on quads, in front of Victor who makes a promise to humor a child then forgets about it, in front of JJ and his “ladies first”, in front of the whole of Russia who it feels like only has eyes for Victor, has only ever had eyes for Victor for as long as you can remember, in front of the world, who dismisses you because no-one has ever won the GPF on their senior debut - even in front of Yuuri, who sees you as a child...

...how badly have you wanted to prove people wrong?

[ratita-ratata]

i am going to sleep rn but I am going to sleep just like yurio, dead with HOW MUCH OTABEK CAN BE HOT

[my-wonderland-imagination]

Mother Russia's Ice Tiger

Prologue-

If you had told me three years ago that I’d would have won a gold medal in the Grand Prix, with a skate choreographed by that shit head Viktor Nikiforov, winning against that little piggy, Yuuri Katsuki, and falling in love with my first ever best friend, WHOSE A FUCKING GUY, Otabek Altin... I would’ve cut you with my knife shoes, laughing manically as you screamed in pain... but here I am, winner of the Grand Prix, with Katsuki second and beside me, smiling proudly, Beka smiling over at me with his thumbs up, Viktor clapping and screaming that he’s proud of his fiancé and his son(WHICH I AM NOT!) and for once, I don’t feel angry, I don’t want to hit or throw anything, for once I feel truly... happy... I’m happy, I’m proud of what I’ve managed to achieve, for being able to finally show that I’m more than a kid with anger issues and that I can do anything, that I’m not just some liability...

A liability... That’s what she called me, a worthless liability... My supposed mother, she never cared, and she couldn’t have given a damn about me, when I was younger to me now. And that sperm donor that she called my father, I couldn’t give two shits about him nor who he was. He left us both, he didn’t care, the minute he found out she was pregnant with me, and he was out of the door faster than you could say “Pirozhki”. Ha, who could ever give a damn about someone like him?!

That’s when everything went downhill... Mama decided drugs and alcohol were the way to go... They were more important than me, more important than food or the house, and far more important than her job. The day I was taken away from her, I screamed for my mother, crying out her name, clinging onto her thin, sickly arms, begging for her to keep me. I’ll never forget that day... The anger in her eyes, the hatred burning towards me, igniting me from the inside out as she screamed back, screaming abuse at me, putting all the blame on me... I suppose she was right, if I hadn’t been produced, HE would’ve stayed, SHE would’ve been able to further her career, THEY’D be happy together... And Grandpa wouldn’t have been burdened with me, a stupid five year old, clinging to a ratty old cat plushie, given to me by one of Mamas junkie friends in pity after I got slapped again, after asking her where my daddy was for the supposed hundredth time, she hated me for driving him away, maybe she was right... It was my fault he left, neither of them wanted a kid, especially not a weak, worthless one like me...

No one wanted me, why would they? I was nothing, no matter how hard I try, no matter how many medals I win, I wasn’t ever going to be good enough. She was rig-

“Yurio! I’m so proud of you, you truly did deserve the gold. And I’m grateful that you did, as much as I wanted to retire to give Viktor his chance to go back, I felt as if we were going too fast and I didn’t want to give up what I loved doing, even if I’m a terrible skater. Thank you.” Yuuri smiled down at me and pulled me into a tight hug, holding me close to him as he laughed softly. Tears started to fall from my eyes and onto his chest, I’ve never experienced motherly love before but now, from Yuuri, it’s all I could feel.

“Sh-sh-shut up, p-p-pig! I d-d-didn’t do it f-f-for you o-o-okay?! I h-h-had to w-w-win, I d-d-deserved to!” it was hard to get my words out whilst sobbing against him, he didn’t say a word though, just tightened his hold around me, I have never felt so loved or protected in my life, not from Yakov, or Lila, not from Otabek, my best friend turned crush, not even from my beloved Grandpa.

“You know, Viktor had mentioned adopting you, he wanted us to become a proper family, and as much as I would love that, I told him that it isn’t up to us to decide, it’s your decision. But even if you say no, you’ll always have a place with us, no matter what happens, we’ll always accept you with open arms. You’re like a son to us and we both love you very much, even when you have those god awful temper tantrums of yours, ha ha.” I couldn’t help but let a strangled laugh as he laughed.

I felt him shift as he looked up at the extra idiot he calls a fiancé. I couldn’t help but wonder if he really meant it, adoption... Living as a family... It sounded like a cruel nightmare and they were just joking, that they didn’t really want me...

“Do you really mean it…? About adopting me…?” I asked timidly, too scared to even look up at him, just in case it was a cruel joke,

“Of course, we’d love to adopt you. You’re like our son already, we just wanted you to have a say in all of it too, Viktors excited about it, he started making a room for you in his apartment and started to teach Makkachin to be nice to cats, though I doubt he’s going to succeed, the man himself isn’t overly fond of them either. What do you say, be our small, angry Russian son?” He chuckled and pulled away slightly, a soft smile decorating his face, ruining his Eros image he made on the ice. I nodded slowly, letting more tears fall down my face.

I had a family now... A real fami-WAIT WHAT DID HE SAY?!

“WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN HE ISN’T FOND OF CATS?! HEY, OLD MAN! WHAT’S WRONG WITH CATS?!” I yelled over at the idiot, his stupid heart shaped smile widening as he waved over at us, laughing stupidly at my comment. Did this bastard think I wasn’t serious? I can’t have someone who dislikes cats in my life, fuck that! I’m just glad Beka likes them, and tigers, because I would seriously kick his ass if he didn’t.

I looked over my best friend, my Beka, with his weird ass bear that he named Kitten after me. I admit, it was soft and cuddly and damn did it smell good, it smelt like him and that was my favourite scent in the world, my own piece of catnip. So whenever we were hanging out after practice, I’d fall asleep against him, clinging to that stupid bear that I claimed as mine after having a little wrestling match, that he always let me win after I pouted at him, and I’d end up waking up to myself curled up against his chest with his hoodie on me, which he somehow managed to slip over me and keep the bear out of it, his fingers tangled in my messy blonde hair and his eyes closed, dead to the world and yet cradling me close to him, almost as if he was protecting me from the outside world, from my past and the darkness that still lingers around me. I loved those nights, Grandpa wouldn’t mind me staying with him, Beka usually sent him a message to tell him that I fell asleep again and that he would bring me back, dressed in clean clothes, fed and happy, with the amount of times it happened, I now have clothes in his suitcase, though I usually stole something of his, one of his hoodies, a scarf, a tee, just something that was his (He’d always give me this look then would chuckle at me, shaking his head before making sure that the helmet was tight and sturdy on my head). Lila would’ve told Yakov that I was allowed to spend the night with my best friend because I’ve been training hard enough to get a little break and it's good for my body to relax in comfort, seeing as I usually had nightmares when we stayed in hotel rooms and I was away from my personal drug that was the only thing that could comfort me.

It’s weird how easy it was to get used to Beka, it took me years to get used to Yakov, I’m still not used to that old hag, Mila, no matter what she tries. I’m still trying with Lila, even if she’s nicer than Yakov and helps me keep my flexibility. I will never get used to Viktors extra, stupid ass, and Katsudon… He’s just there, whenever I need him or need someone to yell at, he always takes it and helps me. But Beka, when he told me about how we met years ago, and what he thought the moment he saw me... Fuck, I melted, he’s everything to me, my best friend, my crush... He’s always there to cheer me up when I need it, with his totally awesome bike, he’s always there to save me from crazy fangirls and I don’t know what I’d do without him there to make me laugh, he makes me feel more... Human, he’s my Agape... My Agape, fuuuuuccccckkkkkkk, why does he have to be so cool, and sweet and fucking hell, he’s so fucking hot... But most of all, why did he choose me? Why did he want to be friends with me?

No one’s ever wanted to be friends with me before, everyone’s always thought of me as the angry, spoilt, Russian child who hates the world and everyone in it, I may look delicate but my personality ‘clashes with my innocent look, especially when I skate’ but he didn’t say that, he said that I was rude, arrogant, angry, resentful, crazy, foul-mouthed but that’s what made me so unique, especially when I skate because it showed how human I really was, I was real not some fake like some people * cough JJ cough * and I was able to show everyone that you should never judge a book by its cover... He was good with words like that, he melted my icy heart and settled into a special place in it, and I’m terrified he might leave once he finds out about my past... He might think I’m a liability, that I’m worthless, just like Mama said, that’s why I keep everyone at arm’s length, because of how terrified I am that they’ll leave once they see, that they’ll lie like she did and will throw me away like I’m nothing.

I may act like I’m this scary, angry, Ice Tiger of Mother Russia but really, I’m this scared, broken, lost, little kitten, desperately trying to survive in the big bad world of sharks, that’s all. But with my Beka, with the idiot Viktor, and the piggy, Katsudon, I think that maybe I can become a real Ice Tiger of Mother Russia and do them proud, I have to make everyone proud, so then they won’t abandon me, I can’t have anyone else abandon me, it’d destroy me...

[kingfisherunion]

This world is cold and madness

Chapter 1: welcome to the madness

Read on Ao3

Rating:

Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning:

Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Category:

M/M

Fandom:

Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)

Relationships:

Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov

Katsuki Yuuri & Victor Nikiforov

Characters:

Katsuki Yuuri

Victor Nikiforov

Yuri Plisetsky

Otabek Altin

Otabek Altin's Sister

Nishigori Yuuko

Yakov Feltsman

Additional Tags:

Car Accidents

Character Death

Married Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov

Anxious Katsuki Yuuri

Angst

Fluff and Angst

Angst and Hurt/Comfort

Grief/Mourning

Established Relationship

Anxiety

Anxiety Attacks

Death

Hurt Yuri Plisetsky

Character's Name Spelled as Viktor

Comforting Katsuki Yuuri

Comforting Victor Nikiforov

Victor's last season

Supportive Katsuki Yuuri

stage husband yuuri

moody viktor

Fights

Swearing

Yuri Plisetsky Swears

Post-Canon

DJ Otabek Altin

Motorcycles

it seems like Viktor is insensitive

but he really does care he's just not great with feelings

Language: English

A few minutes later, in the kitchen, Yuuri assembled two plates of the hotel’s traditional breakfast. The window into the lounge hung open. Viktor sat out beside a table – his table, the only one they had ever used since Viktor’s first visit – reading a manga he had bartered off of Mari. Yuuri watched him quietly as he filled the trays with rice and broth and fish. It had only been two years since Viktor first sat at that table on a snowy April morning. How much had changed. It really did feel like home. Him. Here. The onsen – not just the spring itself, but the entire resort – seemed to calm Viktor immensely. It was when his head was clearest, his features brightest. Yuuri knew he wasn’t really reading. He knew this time of year his husband’s mind was occupied with planning for the upcoming season. He had wanted to come now, right before training, for that reason. The last thing they needed was a stressful start.

“Yuuri~, make me breakfast,” Viktor cried, his belabored trot slowing as he reached the gate to Hasetsu’s Yu-Topia. “You’ve got impressive stamina, but you left me in the dust.”

The morning’s first rose-colored sunbeams were just peeking over the hills. Yuuri, already waiting at the gate, puffed an exhausted laugh.

“You are going to going to have to keep up if you want to work off that off-season tummy,” he teased. “You are going to look your best for your final season.” He pulled Viktor close and patted him gently on the stomach. Viktor smiled and kissed him lightly on the cheek.

“I thought this was supposed to be vacation.”

The two were just in time to watch the sun rise while their aching muscles soaked in the steamy onsen. They disrobed excitedly; They had been talking about it ever since they’d decided to visit. But this was the first time they had managed to finish their run in enough time, with only two days left before they had to return to St. Petersburg to train.

“I’ve been – aaaaaahhhhhhhhh – I’ve been thinking about themes for my program this season.” Viktor slipped slowly into the bath and seemed to melt in the warm, relaxing waters. He sank down and rested his head on his arms right next to where Yuuri sat huddled over a cup of tea. Steam rose up and swirled around Yuuri’s face. He hummed a bit to indicate he was listening and took a long sip of his drink.

“I am thinking I might make my theme this year ‘My Home’, Yuuri,”

“…………”

“Do you hate it?”

“Why would I hate it? I’m thinking.” Yuuri put down his tea and gingerly pushed off of the ledge into the water. “So, are you trying to highlight your Russian heritage?”

“What? No, Yuuri, I don’t mean my home country, I mean this. I mean us.” He pushed back the bangs that were plastered to his forehead with a mix of sweat from the run and steam from the onsen. He twiddled with the strands he had combed through his fingers.

“Huh,” Yuuri thought. Viktor’s final season had to be a signature, a fitting conclusion to a lifetime career of surprises. His first theme upon his return to skating had been “On Ice” and had brought him home a season’s worth of gold medals. It was risky even returning to the ice for a second year; Viktor would be so disappointed if he broke his streak right before retirement.

“Home,” Yuuri repeated, getting a feel for the word.

“I want people to know that I am happy where I am, that even though my career will be over, I still have my life and my love.” Viktor drifted his hand to reach Yuuri’s and threaded his fingers through. Yuuri squeezed and brought his hand to his lips to kiss each finger.

“If it will make you happy, любовь моя, then it’s the perfect theme,” the Japanese skater chimed. He pressed his lips against Viktor’s knuckles again and rested them there.

They watched the rest of the sunrise together in silence. This decision had been hard on the both of them. Yuuri had brought home plenty of gold medals last season, and he was beyond grateful to even share the podium with Viktor once. But just as had happened their very first year together, the year of their engagement, Viktor’s first season as his coach, as the end of the season neared, the two began to dread the last moment they shared on the ice. For the first time they had worked together to strengthen one another and had the pleasure of watching each other succeed and grow. The tension of competing was exhilarating on and off the ice.

All the same, Viktor’s body was beginning to show signs of strain. He would never admit it, but Yuuri was sure he knew. He could not help but feel worried at what this season would bring for Viktor. He was thrilled to continue skating together, but he would feel at fault if his love felt even the slightest disappointment in himself, or worse, if he was injured. Viktor’s standards and expectations for his own skating had skyrocketed ever since his two students had beaten his record. The wins he had once cinched easily had become a challenge once again. Yuuri knew his self-esteem could be affected. He knew he would push himself harder than ever this year.

He gazed over at his husband’s willowy frame. He was leaning against the wall of the pool, eyes turned skyward, lost in thought. His fingers twirled that silver hair of their own accord. Yuuri was so in love.

A few minutes later, in the kitchen, Yuuri assembled two plates of the hotel’s traditional breakfast. The window into the lounge hung open. Viktor sat out beside a table – his table, the only one they had ever used since Viktor’s first visit – reading a manga he had bartered off of Mari. Yuuri watched him quietly as he filled the trays with rice and broth and fish. It had only been two years since Viktor first sat at that table on a snowy April morning. How much had changed. It really did feel like home. Him. Here. The onsen – not just the spring itself, but the entire resort – seemed to calm Viktor immensely. It was when his head was clearest, his features brightest. Yuuri knew he wasn’t really reading. He knew this time of year his husband’s mind was occupied with planning for the upcoming season. He had wanted to come now, right before training, for that reason. The last thing they needed was a stressful start.

The front door slammed open.

“Yuuri! Viktor!”

The newlyweds both looked up in surprise as Nishigori Yuuko ran back to the kitchen in a panic. Her eyes bulged as she fumbled for her phone.

“Did he call you? Did you? Look!” She opened the screen and thrust it into Yuuri’s face. It took a few moments for his eyes to focus. It took even longer to understand what he was seeing.

“What is it? Heard from who?” Viktor called from the lounge. Yuuri heard his book drop to the floor as he stood.

“……………”

“I don’t know if he knows,” Yuuko sobbed. “It’s the middle of the night in St. Petersburg!”

“If who knows what??” Viktor pressed himself in between them.

On the little screen in Yuuri’s hand, a gruesome image hung in disturbing resolution beneath an international news banner. Smoke and flashing lights masked most of the wreckage, but one thing was recognizable in the midst of everything: a motorcycle.

Viktor gasped.

The headline was burned into Yuuri’s eyesight when he closed his eyes. No, no no no, this couldn’t happen now.

Otabek Altin dead at 21 after motorcycle accident.

[aplagueuponthesehoes-blog]

Breathless 2/?

Fandom: Yuri On Ice Characters: (For this chapter) Yuuri Katsuki, Phichit Chulanont, Otabek Altin, Yakov Feltsman, TBA Genre: Vampire!AU, Romance, Angst Rating: Mature for this chapter. Each chapter will be updated with a rating.  Summary: After the events that happened to him the night before, Yuuri takes matters into his own hands. The outlook doesn’t turn out like he expected.  Trigger Warnings: None for this chapter. 

Author Notes: Sorry it took a while. Setting up the stage is so hard because I want to write specific scenes and longer chapters. Hopefully I can get there soon. Enjoy!

I didn’t sleep at all.

If I tried, I would wake up in a panic and cold sweat.

As soon as my alarm went off, I called Phichit. He said that going to the police was the best option. I was scared. I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to talk to anyone. I wished none of this happened. Everything was fine. Why couldn’t my break up be the only thing I worried about? That’s all I wanted.

Phichit picked me up and I was on the verge of tears.

“Yuuri, it’s going to be alright. You’re just giving the police information. We should’ve gone yesterday, honestly, but it will be okay.” He gave me a quick smile and went back to the road. I sighed and played with the fabric of my shirt.

Once we arrived at the police station, I felt like my heart was going to beat out of my chest. “Phichit…what if they think I did it?”

Phichit chuckled. “Well, no offense of course, but you’re a little bit tiny to take on two buffed men. I mean, you could change my mind, but that’s just my opinion.”

He had a point. I lost a lot of weight and I haven’t been to the gym in a while. Me taking on those two men were out of the question. But...they probably won’t believe me when I would tell them what really happened.

We walked into the station and being surrounded by so many cops, criminals, and creepo’s were overwhelming. We walked up to the desk that was separated by glass and an older woman was there. She was writing something on paper and chewing her gum rather loudly. She didn’t notice me and Phichit standing there so Phichit cleared his throat.

She looked up slowly and sighed. “How can I help you?”

“Hello. My friend here wanted to report some information about the double murder from yesterday.” Phichit said as he put his arm around me to comfort me.

“Sign ya name and then wait over there. Someone will be with you in a moment.” She popped her gum and went back to writing. Phichit nodded and signed out names in.

We sat there in silence as I bounced my leg repeatedly. A lot of eyes were on me and I felt every single par. The whole station smelled of alcohol, sweat, body odor, and what was left of an air freshener that smelled of clean linen. Phichit was texting his boyfriend to let him know what was going on and he was calmer than me. I mean, he didn’t witness a murder.

“Alright, Yuuri and Phichit?” and officer yelled. We both stood up quickly and made our way to the man. He took us to a room and shut the door behind him.

“Hello. My name is Detective Otabek Altin. I saw that you had some information on the double homicide from yesterday?” He asked and sat across from us.

I was so nervous, but I managed to speak. “Yes, Detective.”

He nodded and got out a notepad and pencil. “This is being videotaped as well, but please start from the beginning mister…?”

“Katsuki. Yuuri Katsuki.”

He wrote down my name and looked back up at me to continue.

“Okay. I was walking to work like normal and I felt someone come up behind me….” I explained how the encounter went as he nodded and wrote down some key points. Then I got to then end.

“Now…this is the weird part. Since my vision was coming back slowly, I saw a figure over the men. I didn’t see a face. And I know I didn’t hear a gun shot.”

“There weren’t any gunshot wounds. So you are correct.” He told me.

I nodded. “Okay…” I took a breath. “All I heard was screaming and when I got my vision back, I saw the person run and then saw the bodies. Lying there in a pool of blood. I ran after that. I should’ve reported it and I’m so sorry Detective Altin.”

He nodded. “Lucky for you, someone reported it not long after you left, but yes. You should’ve come to the police. Although there isn’t much we can do, this gives up somewhat of evidence. Do you know what the police report said about the men, Mr. Katuski?”

I shook my head.

He took the file and opened it. “They have slash marks across their necks. An instant kill, if you will.”

I gulped loudly. I can’t believe that someone killed two people right in front of me. But I’m also grateful that I didn’t see it and that…they saved me.

The interview process went on for a few more minutes. He got all the necessary information he needed and walked us out. “Thank you for your information Mr. Katsuki. We may be in touch in the future. Please, take my card.” He handed me his card and I thanked him.

Once we got out of that gross police station, I sighed. It was over. I can finally breathe. “Phichit, I can’t thank you enough for taking me. You are truly the world’s greatest friend.” I hugged him and then we walked back to the car.

“What can I say? Everyone loves me.” He chuckled and then drove me back home. There was no way I was going to go into work today. I couldn’t face anyone. They would ask me, so many questions and I didn’t want to be bombarded with people in my face.

I decided that I would write from home because I felt somewhat safe there. Phichit dropped me off at my apartment not long after. I thanked him and told him I would buy him dinner, but he just scoffed. “Just do your article.” He smiled.

I laid on my couch for what seemed like hours. My laptop was so close to my face because I couldn’t stop watching videos on unsolved murders. I don’t know why it intrigued me, but something in my head clicked. Like, I needed to watch these videos so I can get my fuel for writing back. I needed this to be a push.

I should write about me and my experience. If I would’ve thought about this a few days ago, I would have laughed and just chicken out. I hate attention, but this is something that needs to be read. This is something that needs to be written about.

Countless of unsolved crimes and many victims who haven’t had a story told…it needs to be talked about.

I exit out of my video and began to write for the next few hours.

**

I come into work the next day feeling hopeful. I sent my story to my editor last night and I hope to God that he will publish it.

When I get to my desk, I sit patiently. I bounce my leg up and down repeatedly as I try and calm down.  I worked so hard on this piece. I haven’t put this much heart and soul into one piece of writing in a long time. I breathe deeply and then my editor walks in.

I jump up from my desk and make my way to his office.

“Moring, Yakov. How are you?” I ask.

He groans. “I was fine until you came in. What do you want Katsuki?”

My heart starts to beat a little fast. “Well, I was wondering if you got my article I sent you last night.”

He sits down at his desk and logs into his computer. “Yeah. I did.”

I just stood there wondering if he was going to say something about it. He didn’t so I had to. “Well, what did you think about it?”

He shrugged. “Okay. Don’t know what we are gonna do with it since you don’t write columns like that.”

I sit down across from him. “I thought we could start a new column. Unsolved crimes in the area and I would start with mine.”

He looked away from his computer. “People don’t care about unsolved murders, Yuuri. They want facts. Something that has a happy ending. I’ve been in this business for years, and I’ve seen this topic ruin a lot of papers.”

I got really confused.  “Um, I would think that it would help them. Ya know, sell more papers. It’s a topic that keeps people on the edge of their seats.”

“It’s boring. It’s all been done before.”

“And the stuff I write? That’s not been done before? I write an entertainment column. That’s boring.”

Yakov groans again. “That’s your job. Papers have specific stories that they stick to. We are a family friendly paper. Not Cold Case.” He rolls his eyes and goes back to writing.

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “Be honest, am I a good writer.”

“Yuuri, don’t start.”

“Yakov, am I a good writer?”

He paused and didn’t look at me when he answered. “Subpar.”

“Then why am I here?”

He quickly looked back at me. “Because, you like what you do and it shows in your writing. Not great writing, but we sell papers.”

I stand up. “This is a story that needs to be told. There are other stories out there that need to be read. Not what great movies are playing. These are real and happening every day. I can’t be at a workplace that won’t tell the truth.”

“Katsuki, this isn’t what we publish.” He said.

“We write about the city. What’s happening every day. We publish the weather, sports, entertainment, trending stories, and leisure. That’s a normal newspaper. This is news. News that needs to be spread to the public to help other’s. We publish advice on how to get a stain out of your clothes, but not advice on how to react to a mugging.”

Yakov was silent and he was staring at me so hard, I could feel the fire in his eyes. The heat that was building in the room. I started to sweat.

“If you don’t like where you are and what you do then you can pack your desk and leave.”

My mouth went dry and I felt like I couldn’t speak. My whole body felt like it was on fire. I didn’t know why. I had to leave. I had to.

I opened the door and slammed it behind me. Peoples heads looked up from there desks and I ignore them. I was relieved to get out of that room. It felt twenty degrees cooler and I felt like the elephant on my chest finally left.

I was never happy at this job anyway. It was money and it put food on the table. Who knows when I will get another job, but I’m thankful I don’t have to be here anymore.

I start to pack up my desk and Phichit runs over. “Yuuri, what happened? What are you doing?”

“He fired me, so I’m leaving. If he doesn’t want to publish the truth, then fine. I will.”

“Yuuri, please don’t do this.” Phichit pleads.

“I’m not wanted here or anywhere else. I needed this as a push. I don’t want to stay and neither does Yakov. I’ll be fine.” I get my laptop and shove it in my bag and my picture of my family, then zip up my backpack.

Phichit is silent, but he is staring at my with huge eyes. I can tell he is shocked, but I don’t care. I just want to get out of this place. People stare at my as I leave the office

I don’t look back….

[realisticallycynical]

Ace

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5 (you are here), part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, based on @skygemspeaks‘s prompt 

jesus christ it’s only been like 12 hours since the last one what am i doing with my life

Tetsurou has never exactly been one for rules, especially where Kenma is involved. That’s why he’s not surprised when, even though since he’s the captain it technically shouldn’t be happening, he finds himself with a favorite among the first years.

Lev is… a lot. He’s loud and all over the place on his best day, and he has a lot to learn about volleyball as well as tact (and yes, Tetsurou is aware of the irony of him thinking that thought, thanks). But he’s a lot smarter than the rest of the team gives him credit for.

One instance in particular proves this and cements him in as Tetsurou’s favorite.

It’s not as though Tetsurou isn’t used to dealing with Kenma-centered conflict on the team, especially after last year. He handles it as well as he’s able, explaining the situation to Nekomata and wheedling Kenma into presenting the note from his therapist that proves that no, he actually can’t force himself to practice sometimes without seriously messing himself up for hours if not days after the fact.

Nekomata doesn’t mind, he’s willing to leave it to Tetsurou and Kenma’s discretion since he knows that, “lazy” though Kenma may be, he doesn’t actually skip practice for the sake of skipping. The rest of their teammates aren’t always so understanding, at least at first. This seems to be the case with some of the first years, too.

Kenma isn’t at practice today; he hadn’t even come to school. When Tetsurou dropped by this morning to pick him up, it proved to be a red day, one of the more severe ones he’s had this year. Days like this, even Tetsurou isn’t welcome. He doesn’t take it personally anymore, just makes sure to check in throughout the day and drop by after school in case things change.

“I just don’t really think it’s fair to you spikers,” Shibayama says from across the gym. “Your setter randomly skips out on practice and no one is there to help you improve.”

It’s a reasonable enough concern, at least. They’re sweet kids, the first years. It’s not that they dislike Kenma the way the third years last year did; they just don’t really have a clue how someone like Kenma can be a starting player. Since they don’t know the whole story, Tetsurou can’t blame them.

“It’s a little annoying, but we need the practice with our recieves anyway so it doesn’t matter if our setter is a little lazy.” Inuoka laughs a bit, tossing a few volleyballs into the cart.

“If you say so.” Shibayama chuckles along with him (Inuoka has a fairly contagious laugh, to be fair), but Lev just blinks at his teammates in confusion.

“What do you mean, lazy? Kenma-san isn’t lazy at all!”

Shibayama and Inuoka look at him oddly, and Tetsurou stops what he’s doing to listen a little more intently. Lev never seemed like the sharpest kid, but maybe he hasn’t been giving credit where credit is due.

Inuoka is the first to respond. “How do you figure? He’s a nice guy, but he’s always on his phone or playing games. Sometimes he even leaves practice early for it.”

Lev cocks his head, presumably thinking, before turning to Tetsurou. “Captain! Doesn’t Kenma-san have anxiety?”

Tetsurou raises an eyebrow. “Yeah, why?”

He’d feel guilty for joining the conversation, but it’s not like Kenma’s anxiety is a secret. Besides, Lev figured it out first.

“Is that why he’s not here today?” There’s nothing behind the question but curiosity and concern.

“Yeah, it is.” Tetsurou is impressed, and the other two first years look like they’ve had a revelation, which is good. “That a problem?”

“Nope! Just wanted to know.” Lev smiles brightly and turns back to his friends. “See? He’s not lazy at all! He just has anxiety.”

The other two almost trip over themselves asking how Lev knew so much, since it’s fairly common knowledge that Kenma doesn’t really like him (not true, he just can’t always tolerate how loud Lev is).

“Oh, my dad has pretty bad anxiety too.” Lev throws the last few volleyballs into the crate before grabbing a broom. Then, suddenly, he spins around toward Tetsurou. “Captain! I have a question.”

Tetsurou looks up from his “on my way home” text to Kenma. “Yeah?”

“My uncle has to pick me up today, but he’s not on my contact list. Is that okay?”

“I mean… doesn’t he come pick you up most days anyway?” Tetsurou frowns in confusion.

Lev waves his hands quickly. “No, not that uncle! See, my dads are with Alisa at a competition in New York right now, and Uncle Yura had a last minute photoshoot so my Uncle Beka has to come get me but there was only room for three emergency contacts on the form so he’s not there and I don’t want that to be a problem since my dads are busy and can’t pick up the phone.”

Tetsurou blinks and takes a second to decipher the rambling, then belts out a laugh. “Yeah, that’s fine. It’s after hours anyway, so you don’t need to be signed out. That’s only during school, Lev.”

“Oh!” Lev looks surprised for a moment, then beams. “Thanks for telling me!”

“You’re hopeless, kid.” Tetsurou picks up another broom and gets off the bleachers. “Come on, back to work, you three. I’ll help out since I need to get going too.”

The three of them work in silence for a while, cleaning the floors and folding up the net. Then Shibayama pipes up. “Is your uncle a photographer, Lev?”

Lev laughs, and Tetsurou laughs with him. He’s seen Lev’s uncle, and there’s no way he’s the photographer.

“No, he’s a model. Uncle Yuri is too prickly to be a very good photographer. I think I have a magazine with one of his spreads in it if you want to see.” At his friends’ excited nods, he finishes his section of the floor and trots over to his backpack.

Tetsurou can’t blame the first years for their curiosity. For as talkative as Lev is, none of them know much about him besides that he came from private school and is adopted. The three of them finish the floor by the time Lev comes back, holding a rolled up magazine.

“It’s last month’s!” he says proudly, flipping through it until he finds the page he wants and yep, there’s his uncle. Tetsurou can recognize him from the many, many times he’s picked Lev up from practice.

“Lev,” Inuoka says with wide eyes, “Can you flip to the cover?”

The boy cocks his head in confusion, but does as he’s asked. The word VOGUE is printed in big, bold letters across the top. “Why, do you like that actress or something?”

Tetsurou laughs and pats Lev on the shoulder. “You’re so oblivious, it’s adorable.”

Shibayama and Inuoka gape at the cover with jaws dropped. Tetsurou isn’t really surprised, though; he’s seen this guy before in person, on a regular basis, and he’s definitely Vogue material. They excuse themselves to the locker rooms to change, looking star struck. Lev is about to follow when his name is called out.

“Lev.” That’s a new voice that Tetsurou’s never heard before. He turns and sees a small man, about Kenma’s height. “Aren’t you changed yet?”

Lev turns and absolutely beams at the man. “Sorry! I was helping clean up. Just a few minutes, Uncle Beka!”

He disappears into the changing rooms, leaving Tetsurou alone with his uncle. The man is dressed warmly, to keep out the springtime chill.

Tetsurou holds out his hand cheerfully. “It’s nice to meet you! I’m Kuroo Tetsurou, team captain.”

“Otabek Altin– er, Altin Otabek.” He shakes Tetsurou’s hand.

Ah, a foreigner, Tetsurou thinks. He’s not particularly surprised; Lev’s family seems to be made up entirely of foreigners.

“I want to thank you,” Otabek says suddenly. “For helping Lev. There’s only so much help he can get with volleyball in a family of figure skaters. And.. thank you for being kind to him. We worry about him, after his experience in middle school.”

Tetsurou blinks in shock, not really sure how to handle this. “Of course. He’s a sweet kid, and he has a lot of raw talent. His enthusiasm helps the team a lot, too.”

Was that good adulting? He’s fairly sure that was good adulting. But what does Otabek mean, “after his experience in middle school?” Luckily, Lev picks that moment to bound out of the locker room with his duffel bag.

“Uncle Beka, did you bring the things?”

Otabek nods. “Your dad sent them, they just came in today.”

He reaches into his pocket and hands Lev two small objects, only to be attacked with a sudden bear hug. “Thank you!”

He doesn’t seem to notice or care about his uncle’s awkwardness and Tetsurou has to remind himself to adult and that when adulting, laughing like an idiot is generally frowned upon.

Then Lev spins toward him and presses the objects into Tetsurou’s hands. “For Kenma-san! Since he can’t play his game during matches, I asked my dad last week to find something that might help him.”

Tetsurou blinks in shock and looks down at the two objects in his hands. “Fidget cubes?”

“Yeah!” Lev points at them. “See, there’s a joystick side and a side with buttons and there’s one for each hand so he can pretend he’s playing games when he’s not on the court or when he’s in class or something! I thought it might make him feel better when he can’t play his games for real.”

Lev figured out Kenma’s anxiety a while ago, Tetsurou realizes. He wouldn’t have been able to get these so quickly otherwise, especially since his parents are in America. He’s been planning this.

He thanks Lev and his uncle profusely before heading over to Kenma’s house. This time he’s allowed in, and Kenma clings to him, using Tetsurou to ground him. He’s said before that his therapist calls Tetsurou his “anchor,” and while he doesn’t really understand, Tetsurou is more than happy to be whatever Kenma needs him to be.

Which is why, when he sees the grateful, vulnerable look on his boyfriend’s face when Tetsurou gives him the present and explains its purpose, Lev cements his spot as Tetsurou’s favorite first year.

[iamtheicetiger]

A Change in the Weather // Complete

Characters: Yuri Plisetsky, Otabek Altin, Victor Nikiforov, Mila Babicheva Setting: Moscow, Russia, mid April Summary: Yuri and Otabek meet for the first time at an event of Otabek’s. They start off on the wrong foot, but are immediately smitten with each other.  Warnings: Smut, language

Yuri: 

Yuri Plisetsky did not want to be here.

Leaning against the wall of the record shop, he wore a sullen expression, arms crossed as he surveyed the room. His eyes trailed toward the front window, the line of obsessive fans already out of control, and he fought against an eye roll. The fanaticism of the people in line was something he would never understand. In just over an hour’s time, up-and-coming Otabek Altin would be giving an intimate, acoustic performance for a limited number of fans. Yuri had been invited by Victor Nikiforov, the owner of the record shop and a fellow acquaintance in the music industry (okay, maybe they were friends).

The only reason he had even decided to show up was because Altin would be performing a sold out show at Yuri’s venue that Saturday night. Yuri was the stage manager of the venue, and he supposed that it didn’t hurt to introduce himself to the man beforehand. Of course, he should probably start acting like he actually wanted to be here when Altin decided to show up.

He knew that he needed to start making more of an effort and networking if he ever wanted to truly excel in this industry, as Victor had so kindly pointed out to him many times before. And so, he was here, practically counting down the minutes until he could leave and go back to his apartment.

Yuri’s eyes flickered down to his phone as he checked the time, wondering when Altin was planning on showing up.

Otabek: 

Otabek Altin looked down at his phone then back out the window and sighed.

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath as he gazed upon row after row of heavy traffic; he had seriously underestimated the population of this city.  His heart ached for his home back in Kazakhstan where he didn’t have to worry about the bustling anxiety of cabs and pedestrians flooding the streets.  It was always he and his bike.  Nothing else mattered, not even his music.  

He supposed he should be thankful for his career.  Before JJ had taken him to some high-class hipster coffee shop a couple years back and forced him up onto their tiny stage with a shout of, “Sing, dude!”, Otabek had been a mechanic barely making ends meet.  Now he was making strides and taking the reins of his life back, and he had honestly never felt so alive.

Except for right now, of course.

The phone in his lap buzzed in a few short, staccato bursts and he picked it up.  

>Dude.  Where are you? >The line out here is crazy.   >I could watch paint dry faster than the speed you’re going.

Otabek groaned.  Looking up, he saw his driver gazing at him in the rearview mirror.

“You’re not usually so anxious, Otabek,” the man commented.

“Yeah, well, I’ve got Mila up my ass right now and traffic is at a dead standstill,” Otabek replied shortly.  The driver raised his eyebrows but seemingly pretended not to notice the annoyance in Otabek’s words.

“My GPS says we are going to make it there in plenty of time,” the man reassured Otabek.  “We are nearly past the worst of the traffic.”

Forty-five minutes later Otabek was ready to pull his hair out.  

Yuri:

“You’re doing it again,” Victor sing-songed in his ear, his voice grating on Yuri’s already worn nerves. “Why don’t you try putting a smile on and actually talking to some of the people here? I can introduce you,” he offered.

In return, Yuri’s scowl deepened. “I don’t remember asking for your advice, Victor,” he growled, arms crossing as he glared up at the taller man.

To that Victor just shrugged, giving a short, “Suit yourself,” before he was off to network more. Some days, Yuri wished that he could be more like Victor. It would certainly make things easier in his line of work, but he also didn’t have the patience for it.

Patience was something that he was quickly running out of at the moment, another glance down at his phone telling him that Otabek Altin was very, very late.

“This is ridiculous,” he muttered to himself, wondering if Altin was even going to make it in time for his set. They were due to start letting fans in the door any minute, and the musician still hadn’t set foot through the door.

Otabek:

“Jesus, where have you been?”

Otabek ignored Mila’s demand as he stepped out of the car to the sound of a few dozen squeals and shouts from his fans.  Adjusting his sunglasses, he let himself be ushered inside the venue, not really taking a proper look at anything as he hurried past people he couldn’t name.  

“Mr. Altin, hello, we finally meet!” a thickly-accented (and slightly out of breath) voice chimed from somewhere nearby.  “I was getting a little worried you might not make it.”

“Oh, yeah, sorry, traffic was a nightmare,” Otabek apologized.  Mila was still pushing him along, her flaming red hair billowing around both of them in waves. 

“Next time find out where you’re going and set aside plenty of time,” she growled as she practically shoved Otabek through an open door.  “Get ready.  You have five minutes.”

The door slammed shut and Otabek breathed a sigh of relief, pulling the sunglasses off his face.

“You are shorter in person than you appear in your photos, you know,” the same voice from before commented, and Otabek jumped, turning around.  He was met with a very tall silver-haired man who certainly knew how to dress to impress.  Otabek grimaced.

“I get that a lot,” he admitted, if a little begrudgingly.  “I’m sorry, you are?”

“Oh!” the silver-haired man exclaimed.  “I am sorry, where are my manners?  Victor Nikiforov.  I own the establishment.”

“Jesus, sorry,” Otabek said.  “And I’m so sorry for being late.  I’m not usually like this.  I’m just getting used to this whole thing.”  He gestured grandly, as if Victor would know what he meant.  By the confused look on the other man’s face, he clearly did not.  Before Otabek really had a chance to explain himself, or apologize further, or say anything that would make the situation less awkward, the door opened.  

A lithe, athletic man (or maybe a girl, it was really hard to say) walked into the room and leaned against the wall, arms crossed, blonde hair hanging in a scowling face in a clear I-don’t-give-a-fuck kind of way.

Otabek had never seen anything more gorgeous in his life.

Yuri:

Yuri had made up his mind: he was just going to sneak out the same way he’d come in, and no one would ever be the wiser. Now he just had to leave without Victor noticing him go, and he would be set. He wasn’t in the mood to wait around for some prissy musician who obviously thought that he was hot shit and that his time was more important than everyone else’s. He’d met enough of those in his lifetime already.

“Ah-ah,” he heard Victor scold in his ear, a hand now grasping his bicep, which was making it rather difficult to make a break for it. He’d been so close: the door was mere feet away, but with his escape thwarted, Yuri stopped, glaring up at the taller man. Victor nodded toward the door, and Yuri’s eyes followed, settling on the car that had just pulled up. Then he heard them: the shrieks of the fangirls who had been standing in line all afternoon, hoping that they would get a chance to see their idol perform. Altin must have finally decided to show up.

“Stay,” Victor insisted, his tone light, yet commanding. “I’ll introduce you.” Yuri deflated slightly, though he kept up his icy facade as Victor rushed off to greet the musician.

Yuri sighed deeply, not entirely even sure of why he was so irritated at the moment. He would stay for five minutes, just long enough to be introduced and appease Victor, and then he would leave.

Altin was ushered away quickly, Victor following closely behind. Yuri knew that Victor had allowed his office to serve as a dressing room for the evening, and he counted to five before he stalked after them toward the office. That asshole better have a good excuse for being late. How dare he keep all of them waiting here like that? Was he going to do the same thing at the show he was playing at Yuri’s venue in a couple of nights? Yuri Plisetsky would be damned if he was going to have that kind of negative press about an event at his arena.

A scowl still set on his face, he pushed open the door to the office with a bit more force than was probably necessary, arms settling across his chest again as he entered the room and leaned against the nearest wall.

“Yuri! I’d like you to meet-” Victor started, but Yuri cut him off with a curt wave of his hand.

“Altin. Nice of you to finally grace us with your presence,” Yuri said, his voice dripping with disdain as he finally took the time to actually look at the musician, and damn, he hadn’t realized how attractive the other man was in person. That doesn’t matter, he reminded himself. Otabek Altin was just another full-of-himself musician. They were all the same. Just because he was hot didn’t mean that he got a free pass for being an asshole.

Victor’s expression faltered only slightly as he shot Yuri a look that very clearly read don’t-be-rude. “He’s joking,” Victor said quickly. laughing as he attempted to ease the tension, his elbow discreetly jabbing into Yuri’s ribs. The stage manager’s eyebrows rose, though he said nothing further as Victor went on to introduce him to the musician.

Otabek:

So it’s a guy, Otabek thought as the man named Yuri spoke.  The voice was deep, deeper than Otabek had been expecting for someone Yuri’s size and stature.  

“It’s nice to meet you,” Otabek said, raising his hand then immediately putting it back down at an ice-cold green glare.  Okay, he knew he’d fucked up being so late.  What he didn’t understand was who this guy was and why he was so bothered.  A snarky remark was on the tip of his tongue when the door to the office opened again and Mila flew in like a bat out of hell, combing her fingers through Otabek’s hair and brushing his leather jacket off.  The look on her face warned Otabek not to say a word.

“You have a room full of adoring fans waiting for you,” she said, as if a pep talk would make Otabek forget how annoyed he was.  “Just go out there and do your thing.  You’ll do great.”

“Please let me know if you need anything,” Victor added, smiling broadly.  Otabek nodded, and as he straightened his jacket and walked to the door, he met Yuri’s eyes.

“Hope you watch,” he murmured as he walked by, cringing when the words came out sounding a lot sexier than he’d intended.  What is wrong with me?

Yuri:

A hand came up to shake his, and Yuri just stared at it, Altin immediately putting it back down. He met hard eyes, and he was almost positive that the other was going to say something to challenge him. But then his manager was bursting into the room, and Yuri proceeded to look bored again, looking down as Mila talked to the musician and straightened his hair and jacket.

In a matter of seconds, Altin was preparing to take the stage, and just before the musician walked out of the room, he met Yuri’s eyes. Yuri felt his breath catch as he met the other’s gaze, and he prepared for a sharp comment.

At Altin’s surprising words, Yuri nearly choked, the tone of the man’s voice almost immediately making his blood run south. His mouth opened and closed several times, perhaps to make a snarky comment about how he had a million better things to do than stay and watch Otabek’s set, but all that ended up coming out was a meek, “Planning on it.”

Then Otabek was gone, and Yuri swallowed harshly. He could practically feel Victor’s eyes boring into him, taking in the exchange, and hard eyes turned on the other. “If you say a single word, I’m punching you old man,” Yuri threatened, somewhat relieved when Victor just put up his hands in response.

He stormed out the door, settling into the back of the crowd as Otabek took the stage. The screams were nearly deafening, and though he should be used to them by now, they still made him want to rip his hair out. Still, he nearly was able to ignore him, eyes on the musician on the stage.

Otabek:

Otabek had never been good with being on stage.  He would openly admit to anyone who asked that he probably had a good deal of anxiety.  When all eyes were on him, he always got thirsty, and his guitar strap bit into his shoulder, and his leg bounced minutely.  Never before had he felt confident enough to gaze into the audience, instead always opting to look straight ahead at the wall.  But this time was different.  As he took the stage to screams and whistles and cries of “I love you, Otabek,” he felt a surge of something go through him - confidence?  Pride?  He wasn’t really sure.  All he knew was that somewhere in the crowd of people, Yuri was watching him.  And oh man, that did things to him.  

“Hey there, everyone,” Otabek greeted the audience as he took a seat in the provided stool on stage.  The crowd cheered wildly, only dying down when Otabek raised a hand.  “Sorry to have kept you all waiting.”  A few people whistled again.  Additional stage lights turned on and Otabek squinted against them.  He felt the coolness of sweat on the back of his neck as his eyes scanned the room, looking for a sign of blonde hair.  

There, in the back.

Determination to impress Yuri flooded Otabek’s mind and body, and he bent down to pick up his guitar, slinging the strap over his shoulder and resting the instrument comfortably on his thigh.  

“Who likes All Time Low?” he asked, and once more the crowed erupted into cheers.  He grinned, feeling totally out of character but more sure of himself than he had in a long time, and quieted the throng of people before him.  As soon as he strummed the opening chords on his guitar and looked across the room at Yuri, he knew he’d made the right choice.

Yuri:

Lithe hands disappeared into the pockets of his black jeans as Yuri tried to slip back into his usual, apathetic persona. He supposed that he could still leave before the show got started, but he had told Otabek that he would watch him perform, and Yuri was no liar.

Otabek’s eyes seemed to be scanning the crowd, and for a second, Yuri could have sworn that their eyes met from across the room. He swallowed, shaking his head to himself as he realized how asinine that sounded. They had said no more than a handful of words to each other: surely he was just imagining things, and the man didn’t actually care whether or not he had stuck around to watch the performance.

Blue-green eyes attempted once again to feign disinterest, but they lit up immediately when the musician asked the crowd if they liked All Time Low. Though Yuri rarely admitted to being interested in anything, he had chosen a career in music because it was something that captivated him. All Time Low had been one of his favorite bands in his teenage years, so he wasn’t going to complain about listening to someone with Otabek’s level of talent sing a cover of one of their songs.

Otabek:

After a few cover songs and an original that he had been working on for a considerable amount of time, Otabek left the stage for a much-needed break before doing some autographs.  Mila practically attacked him as he tried to make his way back to the office where he’d left his belongings.

“Oh my God,” she gushed, almost as bad as one of his fangirls.  “You were amazing!  They loved you!”

“I hope so,” Otabek replied.  His mind kept straying to Yuri, who, true to his word, had watched - the entire time.

“Don’t hope so, know so!” Mila exclaimed.  The door to the office appeared as they rounded a corner and Otabek took the liberty of going on in.  He sat down with a lengthy sigh, relief coursing through his legs, and looked up at his manager.

“I did what I always do,” he said.  “I wake up, I sing, and that’s it.  It’s not like I did something special.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Mila demanded incredulously, glaring down at a shocked Otabek.  “You were on fire.  You have never performed like that, Otabek.  Never.”  She sat down, as if meeting him at eye level would convince Otabek that she was totally serious.  “For real,” she continued.  “You were different this time.  You smiled.  I’ve never seen you look so happy while performing.”  She paused.  “Was it because of that thing earlier, with that Yuri guy?”

“What? No!” Otabek denied swiftly.  “Why would I do anything differently for him?  He was an asshole.”  Externally, Otabek wore a frown, his eyebrows knitted together; internally, he cringed at the harsh review he’d just given Yuri.  He wasn’t about to admit it to Mila, but he could feel something inside him stirring at the thought of seeing Yuri again.

“Otabek,” Mila started, but just as she spoke, the door swung open forcefully.

Yuri:

Otabek’s performance had been captivating from start to finish, and Yuri’s earlier anger at the musician having been so late quickly dissipated. Just five minutes before, he’d had one foot out the door, ready to go home, and now he couldn’t imagine leaving. Of course, he had vaguely heard the man’s music before he had booked him at his own venue, but he hadn’t remembered it sounding quite this good. Yuri wasn’t sure if something was different, if Otabek had gotten better since he’d last taken a listen, or if he just hadn’t been listening hard enough before.

All too soon, the set was ending, and Yuri found himself pausing instead of exiting the building. He should leave. There was no reason for him to stay.

Though he knew that he should just leave, that he should fight the desperate urge to follow after Otabek back into Victor’s office, his feet were moving in the opposite direction practically on their own accord. He had been a jerk earlier, and he doubted that the musician would want to see him while coming down from the high of giving such an incredible performance.

They didn’t even know each other, but Yuri found himself drawn to the other man, and he didn’t know what to make of that.

Before he could allow himself to think too hard and talk himself out of it, he was slamming open the door to the office, eyes searching for Otabek but landing on his manager, Mila. He opened his mouth, looking very much like a deer in headlights, because he knew he shouldn’t have come.

Yuri stepped backward as though to excuse the interruption, but not before he was saying, “Not bad, Altin.”

Otabek:

Otabek opened and closed his mouth a few times, unable to articulate everything he wanted to say.  “Uh, thanks,” he ended up supplying, then quickly followed with, “Wait, sorry, come on in.”  Fuck, what am I doing? Otabek mentally berated himself.  First he acts like a total asshole, then he watches my entire set, then he tells me “not bad?”  Bigtime mixed signals from this guy.  And why the fuck does he look like he just got caught doing something he shouldn’t do?  I-

“Ah, Otabek!” a voice interrupted Otabek’s thoughts.  Looking up, he watched Victor scoot past Yuri and into the office without so much as a word.  “You did wonderful, really.  Your fans seem to love you.”

“Oh, thanks,” Otabek stammered.  His eyes darted past Victor and over to Yuri, seeking his gaze, but the blonde was not looking at him.

“I hope you still plan to stay for autographs,” Victor continued, not seeming to notice that Otabek’s attention was far from him.  “Not meeting the basic demands of the fans can ruin an artist in the blink of an eye.”  

Otabek was pretty sure that Victor was still talking, but he had tuned everything out.  Distantly, he heard Mila assure Victor that they were planning to stay for a short autograph signing.  Good, he thought.  Maybe Yuri will stay.

And that was when Otabek Altin realized that he totally had a thing for Yuri.

Yuri:

Then Yuri heard Victor’s voice, but his eyes stayed on Otabek. The musician had seemed flustered by what Yuri had said, and that was certainly interesting. He still had one foot out of the office, however, still unsure of what exactly he was doing there. Between Otabek’s manager and now Victor being in the room as well, he wanted to slink away and pretend he’d never come. He had no reason to be there, not really.

But he was there because Otabek intrigued him. His voice, his look, the way his eyes had lit up as he’d strummed his guitar…Yuri tuned out the background noise as he lost himself in his thoughts, the other three talking about signing autographs while his eyes stayed locked on Otabek.

Yuri didn’t do friends. He really didn’t even do hookups: didn’t have the want or the need for them, not usually. But Otabek…Otabek, he wanted. And Yuri always got what he wanted.

Gone was the hesitation as Yuri stepped back into the room. He leaned against the wall lazily, eyes never leaving the musician. Now he just had to get rid of everyone else and get the man alone to see if he even had a shot after all of the mixed signals he had been sending all night.

Otabek:

Yuri had just entered the room when Mila’s phone buzzed loudly in the middle of the chatter.  She rushed to grab it, fumbling a little in her hurry.

“I’m sorry, everyone, I really have to take this,” she excused herself, then trotted out of the room.  Otabek watched her leave, feeling fairly awkward and knowing that without Mila he would have to engage in some sort of conversation.  He looked up at Victor, who had also taken out his phone.  His fingers tapped madly on the screen for a few seconds, then he smiled down at the device.

“My husband, the joker,” he chuckled merrily.  Otabek blinked.  So Victor is gay, he thought.  For some reason, he found that interesting.  He was about to ask a polite question about Victor’s husband to ease the growing tension in the room (that Victor seemed to be totally unaware of) when Mila’s head appeared in the doorway.

“Otabek, I’m sorry, I have to make a few phone calls,” she apologized.  “Will you be okay doing the signing without me there?”

Otabek thought of telling her that no, he wouldn’t be fine, and that he was in total danger of making himself look like a fool in front of Yuri, but decided against it and nodded.  “Take your time,” he acceded.  Mila smiled and rushed away.  A few seconds later, Victor put his phone away and clapped his hands together.

“I should really go check on everything and make sure the autograph table is ready,” he announced.  “Yuri, care to join?”

Otabek’s heart leapt a little and his glance darted over to the blonde who was leaning against the wall again.  Stay, he willed the other man silently.

Yuri:

At the comment from Victor, Yuri found himself rolling his eyes again. He didn’t hate Yuri Katsuki, but he did often find the pair practically nauseating. He would have made a comment, but he didn’t feel like talking to Victor right now. Otabek’s manager was gone, seemingly for good. Now he just needed to get rid of Victor.

His saving grace came in the form of Victor asking him to join in checking on the autograph table. There was no way that he was going to do that.

He felt Otabek’s eyes on him. “Can’t,” Yuri said shortly, making a show of glancing down at his phone, as though something had come up. “I actually have to go. Better things to do,” he said with a shrug. Better things to do, indeed.

Victor look as though he was going to ask questions and Yuri shot him a hard look. Victor, don’t ask questions. Just leave, he willed, knowing that there was still the chance that this would backfire on him. Hopefully the old man wouldn’t insist on seeing him out. Of course, if he did, Yuri would just make up another lie. He wasn’t leaving this building until he at least got a few moments alone with Otabek.

Otabek:

Otabek saw the confusion in Victor’s face as Yuri claimed that he “had better things to do” than help with autograph setup.  He politely pretended not to notice the silent exchange between the two of them under the pretense of brushing off his jacket, but his ears strained for any sign of communication.  

“Alright,” Victor said slowly.  “I’ll see you in a few days, Yuri.  I’m sure you can see yourself out.”  Turning to Otabek, he smiled.  “I will return once everything is ready.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Otabek answered.  Victor exited the room, but not before he gave Yuri one more lingering look.  

Then it was just the two of them.

Otabek’s heart pounded wildly in his chest, jumping halfway up his throat.  He looked down at his lap, not sure if he could even look back up at Yuri.  Then again, he wasn’t even sure if Yuri was still there; if he was, he was very quiet.  After a few moments of hesitation, Otabek dared a glance up at the blonde.  

Yuri:

After a slightly tense moment, Victor allowed the lie, albeit reluctantly. “Yeah, see you then,” Yuri said, nodding at the other before Victor was finally leaving.

Now that everyone was gone and they were alone, Otabek seemed to be the one who looked uncomfortable, his eyes on anything but the blonde. Yuri, however, was finally in his element now that he was out from under everyone else’s watchful eye. Otabek didn’t make him nervous, but everyone else who had potentially been judging him sure did.

His confidence back, he sauntered over to the musician, though he still didn’t speak. By the time Otabek’s eyes were rising to meet his, Yuri was right in front of him.

He wasn’t sure how long they had. He couldn’t imagine that Victor would take too long in preparing the autograph area, and Yuri needed to either be gone or hidden by the time he got back.

Otabek:

Otabek started when he looked up, realizing that Yuri had very silently approached him.  Their eyes met, Otabek’s chocolate brown against Yuri’s bright green, and froze there.  The moment stretched into what felt like years, and Otabek felt his control slipping away bit by bit until, much to his own surprise, he was practically diving across the table at Yuri.  Their lips crashed together and Otabek threaded a hand through Yuri’s hair, and God, it was so soft.  His other hand found its way to Yuri’s lower back and pulled the blonde’s body against his until they were flush together.  Otabek let out an open-mouthed moan against Yuri’s lips as he canted his hips forward.  His mind screamed at him to stop, stop, what the fuck are you doing, but Otabek ignored it.  He couldn’t stop now.  Yuri was like a drug, and he needed more.

Yuri:

The tension between the two was palpable, and Yuri had just opened his mouth to speak when he felt lips collide with his own, and he let out an embarrassing squeak of surprise. He had been planning on kissing Otabek, and the musician had surprised him by making the first move, especially with how long he had avoided even looking at him.

Then he was being pulled until their bodies were pressed together, and Yuri exhaled deeply, his brain finally catching up enough to respond to the kiss. His arms wove around Otabek’s neck as his lips parted, and then jesus christ, the musician was moaning against his lips, his hips pressing forward, and he was already absolutely wrecking Yuri.

He let out another gasp of surprise, his hands trailing slowly down Otabek’s chest before they were resting at his hips. He gave an experimental roll of his own hips, his tongue pressing forcefully into the musician’s mouth as he tried to take back some sort of control.

Otabek:

Much to Otabek’s relief, Yuri seemingly wanted him just as much as he wanted Yuri.  His mind registered on everything Yuri was doing:  the way Yuri’s arms felt around the back of his neck before they slid down to his hips, the softness of those lips that seemed to be constantly frozen into a pout, and especially the hardening outline of Yuri’s cock as his hips pressed against Otabek’s.  It was heaven on earth.  Then Yuri’s tongue swept into Otabek’s mouth in a clear play for dominance and Otabek growled, matching Yuri’s roughness with his own tongue.

The kiss went on for what could’ve been anywhere from a few seconds to a lifetime.  Otabek was lost in Yuri’s mouth and his body was making decisions without consulting his brain first.  Before he knew it, he was tugging at the hem of Yuri’s pants and shoving his hand down the front of them.  As his fingers wrapped around Yuri’s cock, he thought he could probably come right that very moment.

Yuri:

Yuri would have been perfectly content to continue grinding against the musician until he was a writhing mess, but Otabek kept surprising him, seemingly determined to take back the upper hand, and Yuri hadn’t expected for him to be so bold. Fingers wrapped confidently around his now fully erect cock, and Yuri tore away from the kiss to let out a string of curse words, his head falling forward and his hips rolling on their own accord.

His grip on Otabek’s hips tightened, blunt fingernails digging into the fabric of the other man’s clothing. “Fuck,” he breathed again, trying to get ahold of himself so that he didn’t come in his pants like a thirteen year old. One hand moved up to grasp at Otabek’s cheek as he pulled him back into another scorching kiss, a low moan tearing from his lips.

Otabek:

Christ, Otabek thought as Yuri cursed and bucked his hips towards the fingers around his cock.  His thumbs pressed into Otabek’s hips a little harder and Otabek felt the blunt pain of fingernails.  

Then Yuri cursed again, voice breathy; a hand rose to Otabek’s cheek and pulled him into another kiss, and fuck, it was so good.  He swallowed Yuri’s low moan and couldn’t help it when a sound very much like a growl clawed its way out of his throat.  His cock pressed almost painfully against the front of his pants, begging for Yuri’s touch, while his fingers began a steady rhythm of up, down, up.  The angle, however, was proving to be exceedingly difficult.  Yuri’s pants were practically painted to his body, effectively making it damn near impossible for Otabek to move his hand inside them.  He swore, yanking his hand out of Yuri’s jeans only to forcefully push them down a few inches.  Without breaking the kiss he gripped Yuri’s now-free length again and resumed his methodical pattern.  

Yuri:

Despite Otabek’s best efforts, the friction just wasn’t enough, Yuri’s pants too tight for the musician to move much. Yuri whined when Otabek extracted his hand, but he was rewarded a moment later when the other tugged his jeans down, taking a shuddering breath as the man began to jerk him off in earnest. He had the half formed thought that he should probably be reciprocating the favor, but he was too concentrated on how good Otabek’s hand felt, and he was content to be a selfish lover for a bit longer.

Yuri continued to buck his hips into Otabek’s fist, every stroke driving him closer and closer to the edge. He took the musician’s lower lip between his teeth, biting lightly and attempting to ground himself as his hands finally moved lower. Yuri palmed at Otabek’s cock over his pants, moaning into the brunette’s mouth when he felt how hard he was for him.

Otabek:

Oh fuck, oh, fuck.

It was like Yuri could read his mind.  The blonde groped at Otabek’s cock through his pants, captured Otabek’s lower lip in a gentle bite that nearly had him blowing his load right then.  He turned his head, slanting his mouth over Yuri’s a little easier, giving himself better access.  He licked into Yuri’s mouth, simultaneously speeding his hand up.  Vaguely, Otabek remembered that Victor had promised to return, but he couldn’t for the life of him remember why.  He was rooted in the moment.  

“Do you like that?” he murmured to Yuri, breaking the kiss.  Fisting a hand into Yuri’s hair, he pulled to one side, baring the blonde’s neck.  Slowly, he began kissing down the creamy expanse, pausing over the pulse point to nibble at the delicate skin there.  On each upward stroke of his hand on Yuri’s cock he swiped his thumb over the sensitive head.  “Are you going to come for me?”

Yuri:

Yuri swallowed harshly when Otabek pulled away to murmur into his ear, his mouth falling open when he felt the hand tugging in his hair, lips now attached to his neck. “God, yes,” he breathed, the hand on Otabek’s crotch stuttering as Yuri was consumed by his own pleasure once again. He was wrecked, little, breathy moans falling from his lips, and there was no way he could concentrate on reciprocating right now. After he came, he would give Otabek the best damn blowjob he’d ever gotten in his life.

At this point, he had completely given up control to the musician, was completely at the other’s mercy. “You’re gonna make my come, I’m so close,” Yuri damn near whined, unable to find it within himself to be embarrassed right now.

One, two, three more strokes of Otabek’s hand, and Yuri was coming hard, Otabek’s name on his lips just as the door to the office burst open.

Otabek:

“Yuri?!” a voice nearly screeched from the open doorway.

Oh, fuck.  Yeah, it was Victor.  Everything came flooding back to Otabek:  the set he’d just finished, the short break he was supposed to be taking, the autograph signing.  Oh fuck, the autograph signing.  Looking down, his heart gave a nasty little lurch at the state of things.  His hand, and his shirt, and his jacket, and part of his pants were covered in Yuri’s come.  Even worse, Otabek’s fingers were still wrapped around Yuri’s cock as the blonde rode out his orgasm.  Well, there was no turning back now.  Everything was pretty incriminating.  Otabek dared a glance back up at Victor and wished he hadn’t: the man’s face had turned an angry shade of red and he looked like he had murder in his eyes.

“I did not realize you were this kind of person, Mr. Altin,” Victor spat.  “You have disrespected my hospitality too many times today.  First you are embarrassingly late, and now you seduce my friend who, for the record, does not even like you?”  He scoffed.  “Mr. Altin, I will be informing your fans that you are unable to attend the autograph signing.  Please gather your things and leave.”  Victor turned to Yuri.  “And I expected better of you,” he growled, then whirled on his heel and left the room, slamming the door behind him.

Otabek grimaced.  “I’m sorry,” he muttered to Yuri.  He released Yuri’s softening cock from his grip and once more looked down at his clothes.  “Fuck,” he cursed.  “Is there a bathroom nearby?”

Yuri:

Yuri’s eyes flew open when he heard Victor’s voice, his cheeks immediately burning when he realized that they had been caught. This hadn’t been the plan. The plan had been to seduce Otabek into coming back to his apartment with him for the night. Yuri coming all over Otabek and not even getting the musician off in return definitely hadn’t been the plan, and Victor catching them in the act was the icing on the cake.

Then Victor was launching into a lecture while Otabek’s hand was still wrapped around Yuri’s cock, scolding both of them as though they were children, and Yuri was starting to see red. Just as soon as he had come in, however, Victor was slamming the door and leaving, Yuri standing there attempting to process what had just happened with a scowl on his face.

He tucked himself back into his jeans, shaking his head when Otabek apologized. “No, I’m sorry,” he insisted, rummaging around for a towel and tossing it in the musician’s direction. Yuri looked positively murderous, but he wanted to help Otabek before he went off to give Victor a piece of his mind. He took his own jacket off, handing it to the brunette as he muttered, “I can’t help you fix the pants, but you can have this.” At least Otabek’s pants were dark, so that shouldn’t be noticed. “The bathroom is right next door to this office.”

Unable to meet Otabek’s eyes, Yuri stomped out of the office, intent on finding Victor. He knew right where to look, and he grabbed Victor’s shoulder hard, whirling him around. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” he snarled, face flushed as he forced himself not to deck Victor right now. “Why have you still not learned how to knock?”

Otabek:

“Goddammit,” Otabek grumped to nobody in particular as he entered the bathroom, locking the door behind him.  He leaned against the sink, both arms resting on the bowl, as he finally attempted to process what had just happened.

Okay, so Yuri liked him.  Or, according to Victor, Yuri didn’t like him.  Lines seemed to be getting blurred, and at that point Otabek wasn’t even sure of his own feelings towards Yuri.  He had never done anything so risky in his life, and while anything beyond the excitement of riding his motorcycle down a two-lane road had never particularly appealed to him, Otabek couldn’t deny that the adrenaline rush he got from jerking Yuri off in a semi-public room was intoxicating.  

“Shit, shit shit shit,” he whispered, closing his eyes and taking a few deep breaths.  It was going to be fine.  He would get through the embarrassment soon enough.  

“Why should I have to knock if it’s my office, Yuri?” Otabek heard Victor demand loudly from somewhere in the near vicinity of the bathroom.  His heart jumped; he had a bad feeling that he was about to hear a lot more than he cared to.  

“And anyways, I thought you loathed him.  You couldn’t stop griping about him before he arrived.  What has gotten into you?”

Jesus, Otabek thought.  Victor seemed like such a nice guy.

“If you have any common sense whatsoever, you’ll cancel the show he booked at your venue, sold out or not,” Victor continued, and Otabek’s heart skipped a few beats.  His mind flitted through all the shows he had booked for the next few months; he and Mila had been working hard to get him into more well-known places.  Had he booked with Yuri without even realizing it?

His heart pounded painfully in his chest, ears straining to hear what Yuri was going to say next.

Yuri:

“Your office that you offered up as a dressing room for him!” Yuri exploded, hard eyes still locked on Victor as the other man tore out of his grip. The blonde’s hands were clenched at his sides, as he once again reminded himself that putting his fist through Victor’s face wasn’t going to do anyone any good.

“I was just pissed that he was late. You knew that I didn’t want to come to this stupid thing anyway, and you practically forced me to!” he snapped, striding forward so that he was once again in Victor’s space. He was completely furious with the man. Victor was treating him like a child, and where did he get off judging him for this? “What has gotten into me? He’s hot. What the hell business is it of yours who I hook up with?”

Otabek was hot, but that wasn’t why Yuri had sought him out. He dealt with plenty of attractive musicians in his line of business. Something about this musician was intriguing to Yuri, but he hadn’t quite figured his feelings out yet. Yuri didn’t really want to figure out his feelings, and he certainly didn’t want to have to explain them to Victor of all people.

He threw his hands in the air in frustration at Victor’s next words. “Why in the fuck would I cancel a sold out show, Victor? Why do you care so much? You’re being fucking ridiculous.”

Otabek:

“I offered it as a dressing room, Yuri, not a place to have sex,” Victor hissed.  “And I did not ‘practically force’ you to come here, I thought it would be a good idea for you to meet the musician who will be playing a sold out show at your place in a few days.  I didn’t realize you would have to fuck him in order to get to know him.”

Otabek could feel tears welling up in his eyes, and he wasn’t really sure why.  Maybe it was his currently unresolved and mysterious feelings towards Yuri, or perhaps it was that he seemed to be ruining the friendship between Yuri and Victor without even trying.  Either way, he needed to get out of there.  Fast.  Without taking a second to think through how he was going to handle the situation while maintaining even a shred of dignity, Otabek opened the door and emerged into the hallway.

Victor’s head whipped around to glare at him.  “I thought I told you to leave,” he snarled vehemently.  Otabek raised his hands in the universal sign of peace.  

“I was just cleaning up,” he said, feeling a blush creep onto his cheeks when he remembered the reason he had to clean up in the first place.  Turning to Yuri, he mouthed, “I’m sorry,” again, then turned and strode away.  He could practically feel Victor’s gaze scrutinizing him as he walked, but he ignored it.  

“Otabek!” Mila exclaimed as he exited the venue, removing her phone from next to her ear and covering the receiver.  “What are you doing?  What about the auto-”

“We have to go, Mila, now,” Otabek cut his manager off.  

“What?” she questioned flatly, looking bewildered.  “What happened?”

“Not now,” Otabek fielded the question.  “I’ll tell you in the car.”

Otabek didn’t give his driver a chance to come to a complete stop before he opened the door and slid in.  Mila followed suit, apologizing to whoever she was on a call with and promising them that she would call back shortly.  The car pulled into traffic.

“So,” Mila started after a few moments.  “What happened?”

Otabek sighed deeply, leaning his elbow against the door and resting his face in his hand.  “I jerked Yuri off,” he said quietly, fully expecting Mila to explode in a fit of rage.  Instead, she was very silent, which was almost worse.  Otabek didn’t know how he could apologize to her enough to assuage the situation, so he just waited for her to respond.  A few minutes passed with him staring out the window, unable to even glance in Mila’s direction, while she seemed engrossed in her phone.  Finally, she spoke.

“Okay,” she said slowly.  “How did that happen?”

“I don’t know,” Otabek answered.  “After you walked out of the office, Victor left to make sure everything was fine, and it just…happened.”  It was a poor explanation of what was probably one of the best things to ever happen to Otabek, but he couldn’t find it in himself to describe the situation with any grace.  Mila sighed emphatically.

“Do I have to do damage control?” she asked tightly.  Otabek shrugged, feeling like a small child who had been caught doing something he shouldn’t.  He could see Mila turn to look at him in the reflection in the window.  “Otabek, this is totally uncharacteristic of you,” she chided gently.  “You told me none of your behavior had anything to do with Yuri, and now here we are.”  She pinched the bridge of her nose between her fingers.  “You can’t seriously expect to be able to go to his venue, can you?” she asked.  “What if this gets out to your fans?  What if this gets out to the press?  Your career will be over, Otabek.  Do you understand me?  Over.”

Otabek finally turned to look at Mila.  “I will be doing that show, because Yuri will not tell anyone, and Victor is too embarrassed to say anything.”

“What?” Mila nearly shrieked.  Otabek winced.  “Victor knows?”

“Yeah,” Otabek said.  “He’s kinda the one who caught us.”

If Otabek thought the beginning half of the ride back to the hotel was bad, he had been severely mistaken.

Yuri:

Yuri’s mouth fell open at Victor’s words. “I didn’t…I didn’t mean…” he tried, but he was too flustered now to get any words out. He didn’t have to fuck him in order to get to know him, but it definitely hadn’t been unwelcome.

Then he heard the bathroom door open, almost having forgotten that he’d told Otabek that he could go clean up in there. His eyes flickered over toward the other, a light blush coloring his cheeks again, but he turned back to glare at Victor when he yelled at Otabek, the musician looking meek as he put his hands up in defeat before making his exit.

“Otabek,” Yuri started, but the musician was out the door before he could say anything more. Now Otabek was gone, and Yuri hadn’t even gotten to slip him his number, all because Victor was being insane. He couldn’t help but feel somewhat responsible for all of this. He should have just left the office when he’d had the chance, and none of this would have ever happened. Even though Otabek ultimately was the one who kissed him first, he knew that he had instigated the entire thing to begin with.

Yuri turned and rounded again on Victor angrily, pointing at him and jabbing him in the chest. “I hate you. So much,” he spat out slowly. “Not that it’s any of your business, but I seduced him. He didn’t do anything wrong. I knew what I was doing.”

He was practically shaking with anger at this point, knowing that he needed to get out of here before he did something he regretted. “Fuck you, Victor,” he muttered before he was turning to leave, grabbing his keys out of his pocket as he walked to his car.

Yuri sped home, making record time, though he knew he was just going to spend the remainder of the night fuming. Sighing deeply, he grabbed his cat before padding to his bedroom, confident that thoughts of Otabek were going to be on his mind all night.

[thesundaymorningpost]

The Sunday Morning Post

September 3, 2017                                                          10th Edition

Current News:

Yuri on Ice: ShitBang

On August 31st, if you love Yuri on Ice, your feed may have blown up with stories and artwork created as a means for writers and artists to come together and work on a project together.

What is the Shit Bang you ask? It is an amazing event for writers and artists to come together and write and draw about the amazing anime we all love: Yuri!!! On Ice! But a little more than that this is a direct - non-hateful - response to THAT blog. You know the one I’m talking about. Yup. THAT one. - @yoi-shit-bang

The amount of stories and artwork has been astounding. From one-shots, to multi-chapters, all written by amazing authors. Then there is all the amazing artwork that has come with it, by some amazing and very talented artists.

Please keep in mind that many subjects may trigger, please read all tags before reading a story. 

Story Recommendation: we have loved the stars too fondly by @thehandsingsweapon

“We live in a blue planet that circles around a ball of fire next to a moon that moves the sea, and you don’t believe in miracles?”

After an academic career at MIT and Oxford, Yuuri Katsuki eschews job offers at places like NASA and CERN to go work at the Very Large Array in what Phichit Chulanont lovingly calls The Actual Middle of Nowhere, New Mexico, monitoring radio frequencies from light-years away. He's loved the stars for as long as he can remember, and the universe feels so big sometimes that Yuuri is sure it would be a cruel mistake for humans to be all alone.

Enter the latest scientist to join the staff of the VLA, enigmatic Russian genius Victor Nikiforov, around whom Yuuri’s entire universe seems to bend to make room, and the strange, recurring dreams Yuuri keeps having, where something like love carries him across the stars.

Does love travel faster than light? Do souls?

“The cosmos is within us. We are made of star-stuff. We are a way for the universe to know itself.”

"Yuri, on Stars!!   This lovely short story will resonate with anyone that lives the heavens.  Dreamscapes thought to be a figment of Yuuri's imagination turn out to be a more real than tangible science, and Viktor is patient with all his insecurities.  With just the right amount of angst to give it depth, this vignette will take you into the endless cosmos!" - @darkrivertempest

Artist Spotlight:

we have loved the stars too fondly by @shadhahvar

Comic:

Good boy by @floccinaucinihilipilificationa  (Click title to reblog)

Support: 

This week’s Ko-Fi shout-out goes to Discoursemoth | @lowercasewrites  (Click to buy coffee)

im sei! im a non-passing trans boy with unsupportive parents, and im using this account primarily to pay for things that could help me pass better, such as a packer and binder. you obviously dont have to donate but i would really appreciate it!                                

Patreon: YukiPri | @yukipri  (Click name to become a patreon)

Hey there!! Thanks so much for visiting my Patreon. I'm Kazu, also YukiPri on Tumblr. I'm currently a freelance translator and illustrator who is HOPING to support myself primarily through art. My passion is telling my own unique stories through visual media, and I love world-building, costume design, and overall extensively over-thinking all of my stories. This patreon is a step towards hopefully better sustaining myself off of art so I can continue to grow as a professional artist and produce content that you can enjoy! I am unbelievably grateful to every patron who helps me continue to do what I love doing. My wish is for the majority of my work to remain public, but I also desperately need to support myself, and also have a variety of content that I'm not comfortable posting publicly for various reasons. As thanks for your support, my patrons will get access to exclusive content, including WIPs/sketches, previews, art progress/tutorials, higher resolution art, early access, and nsfw content!

Fun and Games:

10 Questions Every Fic Writer Secretly Wants to be Asked by @wyseink  (Click Title to reblog)

There are a lot of fic questions that float around online, but rarely do they ever ask specific questions about the fics themselves. Ask any writer one or more of these ten questions to learn more about the fic and show support.

1. Of the fics you’ve written, which is your favorite and why?

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Story Prompt:

Monochrome by @diamondwinters An AU where people who are sad, down, depressed cannot hide it. Whenever you get sad, you start to loose your color. Your skin turns pale, your eyes loose their color, and turn gray or white, and your hair turns gray. Like an old black and white tv show, you loose all your color when you’re very sad. A little bit of sadness might dim your natural colors, but you wouldn’t loose them. It’s during a time when you feel heart broken, or very depressed that you go Monochrome. Such as a big break up, a death of a loved one, deep depression, etc. Monochrome is the medical term used by the doctors in this AU to describe turning gray in a world of color.

Some people who are unable to get happy, may use make-up, contacts, and hair color to hide the fact that they’re depressed, but eventually even those things will loose their color and will need to be replaced.

The best thing to do is to find your happiness. Be with friends, and family who can help you bring your color back. The brighter you are, the more vivid your colors are, the happier you are.

Art Prompt:

Imagine your OTP by @bumble-beany

Person A: Are you awake?                                         

Person B: I am now                                         

Person A: I was just wondering...                                         

Person A: What do you think it'd be like to be a pregnant male seahorse?

Person B: Really?! You woke me up for that?

W.I.P. Motivation:

Liquor Stash by @severeminx​

I want him.

When the full realization hit him, Yuri felt as though he couldn’t breathe. Detached and fleeting thoughts that had passed through his mind finally took shape in these three words at that exact moment. The I being himself, Yuri Plisetsky, age 17, a Russian figure skater with a list of impressive accomplishments to his name that seemed pretty pointless right now given the context. The want being desire, the need to bury himself, the thought to consume, but never actually act out except behind locked doors in empty beds or shower stalls. The him being the person standing across from Yuri sipping coffee from a take-away cup with creased brows, the low sunlight hitting his face just so to light up his otherwise dark eyes. Someone he considered to be his best friend, who came all the way from Almaty just to spend a week with him and who was blissfully unaware of the fucking turmoil Yuri was feeling in the pit of his stomach. Or at least, Yuri hoped he was unaware.

In which Yuri Plisetsky invites Otabek Altin over to stay with him in Saint Petersburg, freaks out over his feelings and delves into Lilia's liquor stash.

Please go read and support this artist. They are looking for kudos and comments to get them back into finishing this fantastic story!

Fandom Week:  (Click each line to go to blog)

Zarkon Week! September 3rd - 9th.

Yuri on Ice Music Week! September 4th - 11th

NSFW Yuri Plisetsky Week! September 11th - 17th.

Guang-Hong Week! Voting will be Sept 15th - 21st

SeungChuchu Week! October 16th - 23rd.

Help Wanted:

Needed: Tumblr theme editor. Please contact Diamond Winters for details.

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@yoi-shit-bang | @thehandsingsweapon | @darkrivertempest | @shadhahvar | @floccinaucinihilipilificationa | @lowercasewrites | @yukipri | @wyseink | @diamondwinters | @bumble-beany | @severeminx

[runespoor7]

Bits of headcanon/interpretations of YOI :

- Otabek is embarrassingly into Yuri's intensity. “soldier's eyes” + motorbike rescue? Those don't add up to “Otabek is so patient with his bf's drama.” Those add up to “Otabek thinks Yuri is the most dangerous thing he's ever seen and is really into it.”

- Victor takes off for Hasetsu after he sees Yuuri's video without an e-mail, a phonecal : oh, he was terrified. He was so scared if he asked Yuuri, Yuuri would say no after all. It's easier not to take the time to think (he's had months to think, already ; and years, before, of not liking his life anymore) and just go.

- other interpretation (i have a bunch of interpretations of how Victor Nikiforov Endured Before the Video and go back and forth a lot, because it all sounds good) : he makes that face in front of the video because that's when he realizes/comes to the decision that yes, he's going to leave everything

behind. He's going to go because Yuuri asked him to and is asking him to again, and he's going to be something new. The look on his face says it's hard ; birth always is. Victor is going to answer Yuuri's call and find the new man he can be by Yuuri's side.

- Victor fell in love with his idea of Yuuri during the months between Sochi and the video not just because of what Yuuri and he had done (how much fun it had been, how exhilarating), but because Yuuri had offered him a future. Victor is tired of competition. Each medal is a weight dragging him down. Yuuri, when he exclaims that Victor should be his coach, suddenly gives him a future. Oh. There's someone who wants Victor to be something else than a world-champion ; there's someone for whom he can be something else than what he's been until now. Yuuri is offering him a new life.

- none of this is incompatible with Victor mooning pathetically over Yuuri, because yeah. He tries to throw himself into creation again (the banquet counts as enough inspiration, right ? Right??), he tries to put his feelings in programs for the new season, and he comes back again and again to the banquet. His programs turn longing, and he's already done Stammi Vicino, he can't-- he's not going to do the same thing again. Back to the banquet ; back to how it made him feel. (Back to Yuuri, Yuuri, Yuuri.) Victor's programs just feed into his love. It's like “the same but everytime this thing happens it gets faster” ? Well, Victor is “the same but everytime he performs his programs he falls deeper in love” because his programs are literally about performing love and he's managed to find the one thing that's surprised him and he can't stop thinking about it and he set himself up so that he cannot stop thinking about it if he wants his programs to turn out well.

- Yakov has learnt perfectly well about the Sochi banquet, and that's the real reason why he's so angry at Victor for leaving. It'd be one thing if Victor wanted to take a break ; a silly thing, but one he could understand. (He could choreograph. Victor's such a legendary performer, it overshadows how talented he is a choreograph.) It'd be one thing if Victor wanted to retire, even. Sometimes, people are over, they've moved on, and it's painful and you need to accept it. But on the heels of the banquet and Victor sighing and mooning about Yuuri Katsuki and throwing his life away to go across the world to go to someone with whom he fancies himself in love and whom he hasn't contacted in months... are you serious there, Victor ??? what part of this sounds even remotely like a good idea ?????

- Yakov, by the Rostelecom Cup, knows through the Cup of China kiss that Victor had at least part of it right when he went to Japan, but that doesn't exactly endear the situation to him. Yakov says “playing coach” the same way he could say “playing house”. Stop this, Victor. You can't be both his coach and his boyfriend. You're going to mess this up very badly, the two of you. (It's hard enough, playing the part of a parent while you're coaching someone.) You've never been a coach and you've neglected being a boyfriend.

- i love how this show caters to my co-dependency kink.

[jbankai89]

Never Let Me Go [15/37]

A/N: Next update will be November 14th. I am being swamped by work right now, so I didn't have as much time as usual to edit this. Hope you guys enjoy it nonetheless! :)

Chapter Fourteen – Choices

“Wh-what?” Yuri stared at the alpha in shock, certain that he'd misheard him.

“I am doing what I should have done a long time ago,” Otabek explained patiently, “and I am letting you leave.”

“But you can't,” Yuri protested, then too late realized how that could sound, and as he strove to ignore the way his face grew warm as he elaborated. “I mean, if I leave, a House Catcher will just pick me up again, and I'll be back at square one.”

Yuri wanted to be angry, but when Otabek answered the omega's point with a smile, he found himself caught by confusion instead.

“Considering I have no plans of making you endure that again, I have two options for you,” Otabek said with a note of confidence in his voice. “You and your grandfather can choose the one that best suits your needs; I won't try to sway you one way or the other. If you don't like my suggestions, by all means, let me know if there's something else you'd prefer.”

Otabek paused, and he levelled his gaze with Yuri and Nikolai. Yuri, too stunned to speak, was unable to say much of anything, and instead gaped at Otabek with a blank look of shock. After a moment of silence, Otabek resumed his speech.

“I have sifted through Russia's laws, but I cannot find anything that would guarantee you safe passage if I were to relinquish property rights of you,” Otabek began, steepling his fingers as he spoke, and he focused his gaze momentarily upon his knees before he returned his gaze to Yuri. “Someone from an Omega House would come to fetch you right away if I did that, and we'd be all right back where we started.” Yuri inclined his head in a small nod of understanding; in this, he understood that Otabek wasn't bluffing. He'd read through the laws quite thoroughly himself before he turned sixteen, and he knew Otabek was not making anything up—yet. Yuri still could not let go of that final tendril of doubt that there had to be a catch somewhere in all of this.

“What do you propose, then?” Nikolai asked, and he, too, carried a guarded tone to his words, for which Yuri was grateful. His grandfather had always been a trusting man, but he seemed to at least have a better measure of Otabek than Yuri had anticipated—to blindly trust an alpha, especially one like Otabek would be a massively bad move.

“I've come up with two options, as I said,” Otabek replied smoothly, as though completely unbothered by Yuri and Nikolai's lack of trust in his sentiments. “The first is you two leave the country. Denmark, Sweden, wherever you want to go that is safer for omegas, I will get you there and offer you a small sum for a house and whatever equipment you might need to resume your fishing business, if you wish, or enough for you to retire comfortably, Mr Plisetsky.”

Nikolai nodded, though the expression was stiff, and Yuri doubted that Otabek had caught the edge of disapproval upon his grandfather's face. Nikolai Plisetsky had never been one to accept handouts in any capacity.

“What is your second offer, Mr Altin?” Nikolai asked, his voice adopting a cold edge to it, and Otabek frowned a little, though he did not comment on the older man's tone.

“The second option I have come up with is to smuggle Yuri out of the city, to another part of the country, and both of you would undergo something of a...makeover. I'd arrange for you two to have your names changed, and Yuri would be given Betacitomol.”

Stunned silence followed Otabek's words. Betacitomol was not unknown to Yuri, but he never thought he'd hear Otabek make mention of it. Yuri stared at him, expecting him to suddenly proclaim that he was kidding (barring the fact that Yuri couldn't remember Otabek ever making a joke about anything in the time that he'd known him) but his expression did not change. Before Yuri could remark on this, his grandfather got there first.

“And next you'll tell us that you have the Holy Grail stashed in your home somewhere,” Nikolai replied in a derisive tone that Yuri had never heard him use before. “The drug that masks the omega scent and makes them register to an alpha's senses as a beta? It is a myth, Mr Altin.”

Without a word, Otabek reached into his pocket and withdrew a plastic prescription bottle filled with little blue pills. Even at a distance, Yuri could easily read the label.

Betacitomol.

“I suppose they don't make myths like they used to,” Otabek said dryly, his mouth twitching at the corners into a small smirk. He slid the bottle back into his pocket, and nodded at Yuri and Nikolai in turn. “I'll leave you two alone to discuss it,” he said, and excused himself from the room without another word.

Yuri watched him go, his free arm picking absently at his cast. His grandfather reached over and gently pulled his hand away, and at the same time drawing the omega's attention back to him.

“What would you like to do, Yuri?” he asked, and Yuri shrugged, though he immediately regretted it when the small action caused his shoulders to ache painfully from the still-healing marks upon his back.

“I don't know,” he replied belatedly as he settled back against his pillows. “I'm still having a hard time processing the idea of leaving this place—and it's not like I can for a little while—not like this, anyway. And I don't want to make you learn a whole new language or culture just for me, and—”

“—the most important thing to me is making sure that you are safe,” Nikolai interrupted, “and I will do that no matter if I have to learn one new language, or one hundred. I feel that it would be safer to leave the country, but it is up to you. This is your life, Yuratchka, and your decision.”

“I don't know,” Yuri said with a small groan, and reached his uninjured hand up to massage at his temples. “I don't know what is a safer option.”

“If we leave the country and acquire citizenship, the government here cannot order you to return and send you to another Omega House. It takes time, though, but I think your...friend might be able to help us on that front. If we leave, it is likely we would never be able to return, Yuri.”

“I'll never see my friends again,” Yuri filled in, and Nikolai nodded solemnly.

“I am afraid so,” he replied, and nodded once, before his expression turned stern. “Do not make your decision for them, Yuratchka,” he said seriously, “you must do what is best for you. Friends come and go in life, but this decision will affect your entire future. In this, you must be selfish.”

I must be selfish.

Images of Yuuri and Minami floated into his mind's eye, and he felt his stomach turn over guiltily. Could he really abandon them to save his own skin? Did he even have a choice?

“Grandpa, what should I choose?” Yuri asked him desperately, “what is even the right decision?”

Nikolai smiled sadly, but didn't answer.

~*~

The days passed slowly, and still Yuri came to no decision.

With the help of his grandfather, Yuri was transported back to his bedroom, where he came to find that a second bed had been brought up. When Nikolai wasn't sleeping on it, he was sitting up with Yuri and keeping him company. Otabek stepped in occasionally to check in on them, but was always quick to leave again. Each time, Yuri did not miss the look of genuine longing and grief in the alpha's eyes, though to Yuri it appeared as though Otabek was making an effort to hide his anguish. Yuri understood now that Otabek really and truly did not want him to go, but he was letting him go nonetheless.

The alpha, it seemed, had finally learnt to put someone else's needs above his own.

Yuri hated how indecisive that was making him.

He couldn't stay here—he wouldn't.

So why was he suddenly so reluctant to leave?

Yuri came to no answer to the question that plagued him, and once again, forced it to the back of his mind.

~*~

Two weeks later Yuri was still laid up in bed, but with a visitor at his side.

Yuuri was smiling at him warmly, and he looked happier and healthier than Yuri could recall ever seeing him before. At sixteen weeks, his stomach was still not very large, but big enough with the three lives inside him that he could no longer be mistaken for simply bloated. Yuuri looked distinctly flushed, which he claimed was from the pregnancy and not some kind of strange embarrassment, but otherwise he looked happy and content.

Despite Otabek's dire warnings that he shouldn't, Yuri took a chance and told Yuuri everything that had happened—including their escape plans.

Predictably, Yuuri's eyes flooded with tears as he reached for Yuri's uninjured hand, and he gave it a firm squeeze.

“Oh, Yuri, that's amazing,” Yuuri sniffed and rubbed his eyes. “Of course I won't tell anyone, but I'll miss talking to you. You're my best friend.”

Yuri blinked.

Best friend?

“No one's called me their best friend before,” Yuri blurted out before he could think better of it, and Yuuri squeezed his hand a little harder.

“Well, you're mine,” Yuuri replied with a watery smile. “You're a voice of reason in a place that's governed by emotion and instinct. You need to do what's right for you, of course, but I really will miss you. Maybe we can learn Morse Code and send audio messages to each other, or something, until you get citizenship wherever you end up, if you decide to leave the country, I mean.”

“Or something,” Yuri replied with a weak laugh, and Yuuri's small smile brightened. “You look...good, by the way. Did something happen? I don't think I've ever seen you this happy.”

“Nothing really big,” Yuuri said as he shrugged, “Viktor's just been...really good lately. Sort of like between you and Otabek. Just...lots of personal stuff, but trying to give me as much freedom as he can, and make up for...” Yuuri trailed off, and brushed his hand across his abdomen significantly.

“Not sure anything can really make up for that,” Yuri pointed out, “I mean, he practically r—”

“—he didn't,” Yuuri interrupted, and Yuri's eyes widened a little in shock at the cold note of warning in his friend's voice. “He never mistreated me like that. Even Viktor said he did that but he didn't...I know he didn't.” Yuri blanched as Yuri's eyes became distinctly glassy, but he continued before Yuri could interject an apology. “I don't care, Yuri, I know I probably sound like a nutcase, but please, don't say it like that—because he never hurt me like that. Maybe he did other things, but not—”

Yuuri broke off when a hiccoughing sob that stopped him from continuing. He cupped his face in his hands as his eyes flooded with tears, his cheeks blotchy, and Yuri opened and closed his mouth while he grasped at air, trying to think of what he could say that would calm Yuuri down. However, Yuuri continued before he could say a word.

“I—I know you have lots of strong feelings about our lives,” Yuuri said softly as he removed his glasses to mop his tears away with the edge of his sweater. “I do too, and a lot of bad things happen to us, and we are barely in control of any of it, and we don't have much choice beyond just needing to hope that a good alpha takes us in, and takes care of us. I know it's not right, and I know you won't agree that we should just lie down and take it, but, Yuri, I'm not like you. I'm not strong enough for that. Viktor has been s-so good to me lately, and I don't want to hear you saying things against him.”

Yuri stared at his friend, Yuuri breathing shallowly, and wiping his eyes again and again as he tried to staunch the flow of tears. He had no idea how much of what he had just said was the pregnancy hormones making him act this way, and how much of it was genuine. Did Yuuri really not realize just how badly Viktor had messed him up? Why didn't he want to acknowledge what everyone knew—that Viktor did rape him? Was pushing Yuuri to see the truth even a good idea in his state? Yuri had no idea. What he was sure of however was the physical tells that Yuuri needed physical comfort, and he had a feeling that he knew exactly who Yuuri wanted right at that moment.

“I'm sorry,” Yuri said softly, “I didn't mean to upset you...do you want me to call Otabek to get Viktor for you?”

Yuuri let out something like a whimper, and wiped his eyes again as he nodded.

Yuri turned away from his friend and to the bedside table where an old iPhone model was resting. The last time he'd used a phone was when he was fifteen, and so relearning how to use one was proving a little challenging. However, he still remembered how to text, and composed a quick message to Otabek:

Can you send Viktor up? Pregnancy hormones are making Yuuri a little needy.

Yuri sent off the text, and not a full minute later the silver-haired alpha burst into the room and made a beeline for Yuuri, acting as though Yuri, laid up in bed, was completely invisible.

Yuri watched uncomfortably as Viktor pulled Yuuri into his arms, and with another feeble sob, the omega threw himself at his mate. From such a close proximity, Yuri could hear practically every word of their private conversation.

“Yuuri, my Yuuri,” Viktor murmured as he pet his hair gently, “what's the matter? Did Yurio upset you?”(Yuri bristled at the use of his hated nickname, but did not interrupt.)

“No, not really,” Yuuri replied, and sniffed again, “just got...a little upset.”

“I can see that, come here...”

Viktor trailed off, and pulled Yuuri in for a gentle kiss. He stroked his hair, and whispered to him, little things so soft that Yuri had no chance of overhearing, even at such a short distance away. Yuri watched them with mingled fascination and unease. Viktor's eyes were soft, and a look of adoration rested there as he held onto his omega, rocking him as though he were a child, and letting Yuuri cling to him without complaint. His soft smile never wavered, and he appeared wholly unbothered by Yuuri's tears, but patiently waited for him to calm down. Slowly, their kisses petered out and Yuuri stopped crying. He lifted his head off Viktor's shoulder, his eyes a little puffy, and Viktor offered him another warm, adoring smile.

“Feel better?” Viktor asked while he reached out to brush a few stray tears from the omega's cheek. Yuuri nodded, and sniffed a little.

“I'm sorry,” Yuuri mumbled as he dropped his gaze, “I didn't mean to get so upset, I don't even know why I got so upset...”

“Your body is in overdrive keeping the lives inside you healthy,” Viktor said, his tone indicating to Yuri that likely he'd told Yuuri this a few dozen times before. “Sometimes that makes you have...let's say, different reactions to things.”

“I know, I'm sorry,” Yuuri repeated, and Viktor chuckled a little as he brushed a kiss to Yuuri's forehead.

“I'll be nearby if you need me; do you feel all right now?”

“Yeah,” Yuuri said as he nodded, and rubbed at his eyes again. “Sorry.”

Viktor appeared for a moment as though he was going to say something, perhaps remind Yuuri that he didn't need to say sorry, but instead he smiled warmly, offered Yuuri a gentle kiss and hug, then left the pair of omegas alone.

“He really cares for you,” Yuri observed, and Yuuri smiled bashfully.

“I think so,” Yuuri replied, and smiled bashfully as he spoke. “I wasn't sure at first, but I think he does. I think...I care about him too, and...I—I think I could learn to love him.”

Yuri offered his friend a small nod, but did not remark on the repetitive quality of his statement. Clearly he was approaching the stage of his pregnancy where he reacted strongly to random things, and Yuri wasn't overly keen to upset him again. He wasn't sure how he felt about Yuuri and Viktor's situation, whether or not it was okay to learn to love someone out of circumstance, especially someone who quite literally raped them, and not be together simply because they want to be.

“If it's what you want, Yuuri, then I'm happy for you,” Yuri said at last, and the other omega smiled at him, apparently not noticing his lack of sincerity behind the words.  

“It is...I mean, I think it is.” Yuuri winced, and shook his head a little. “I don't know. But...what about you? Have you come to any decisions about Otabek's offer?”

Yuri winced at the question, and did not immediately answer. He could tell that it was Yuuri's attempt to get the conversation away from himself, but Yuri was no more keen to discuss his situation than Yuuri was. He picked at a loose thread on the blanket he lay on, and he tried to think of how to answer him.

“Yuri?” Yuuri asked tentatively, and Yuri heaved a sigh.

“No,” he said at last, his voice escaping him as a heavy, defeated sigh. “I have no idea what to do. I mean, I know that leaving the country is the best option, but my grandpa is old. His whole life is here. He told me to be selfish with my decision, and I know which would be the better option for us, but how can I ask him to just...just...leave everything he knows behind and start in a new place, with a new language and culture and everything?”

“It's a small price to pay for your lives,” Yuuri said seriously. “All of you are taking a huge risk doing this, and if you're caught...If you're lucky, you'll go back to an Omega House, but more likely, you'll be sent to a Foster Alpha for retraining.”

Both omegas shivered at that.

“And what would happen to Otabek, do you think?” Yuri asked uncertainly, and when Yuuri gave him a knowing look, he felt his face get very warm.

“I don't know,” Yuuri replied with a small shrug, “I don't know how punishments for alphas work, and I never thought to ask Viktor about it.” He paused, and regarded the younger omega again. “Do you want me to? Ask him, I mean.”

“No, that's fine,” Yuri said awkwardly, “I think I'd rather not know. Anyway, in this country there probably isn't any sort of real punishments for alphas.”

“Hmm,” Yuuri nodded, a small grimace upon his face. The truth of the statement was far from pleasing, and it did little beyond reaffirm to Yuri that despite his reservations, leaving the country was still his safest option.

Before Yuri could offer his friend any sort of proper answer, a soft tapping on the bedroom door drew the pair from their conversation, and they looked over to see Otabek poking his head inside. Yuri twined his fingers through the blanket he lay on, and he frowned at the way his whole body seemed to tingle with anticipation at the mere sight of the alpha.

“Sorry to interrupt, but, Yuri, may I speak with you a moment?” Otabek asked, “privately?”

The pair of omegas exchanged a look, and with a shared mental shrug, they both refocused their gazes on Otabek.

“Yeah, sure,” Yuri said as Yuuri got up and took his leave of the room. He paused at the door, glancing back at his friend, and Yuri nodded once in encouragement before Yuuri finally slipped out, and Otabek closed the door behind him.

Otabek stepped toward Yuri, the omega fidgeting nervously as the alpha made his approach. His nerves, for once, were not brought on by Otabek's presence in the strictest sense, but rather a strange sort of relief at seeing him again. Yuri didn't know what it meant, and he didn't like this strange neediness he was now feeling for the alpha—how he would become stressed and uneasy if he went too long from seeing Otabek, even if it was brief, and Yuri did not want to entertain this new dependence his brain seemed to have adopted for him—especially when he was supposed to leave once his injuries had healed.

After Otabek sat down, he shifted as though he wanted to reach out and touch Yuri, but curbed the impulse as he sat back and laced his fingers together. His expression was guarded and pensive, and Yuri found himself, as usual, at a loss for what could possibly be on his mind.

“I have some news about Minami,” Otabek said, and Yuri's breath stilled.

“Is he okay?” Yuri asked uncertainly, and Otabek's mouth twisted into a bitter smile.

“If you're asking if he's safely away from his alpha, then, yes, he's okay,” Otabek said, and Yuri's shoulders sagged with relief. “If you are asking if he is whole and well...then no, he is far from okay.”

“I don't understand,” Yuri said, and frowned at the alpha. “Is he okay or not?”

“Let me start from the beginning,” Otabek said as he rubbed his hand across his jaw in a movement of deep stress, though for once, Yuri wasn't sure what the cause of it was. “Mr Lee was a member of The Seven Star, or Chil Sung Pa—an organized crime syndicate not unlike Japan's Yakuza. I had no way to get to Minami; Seung-Gil was too well-connected, and no matter what he's done, there was no way to bypass all of Lee's privacy measures and reach his omega.”

Yuri stared. Many of the words went right over his head, and he found himself wholly incapable of processing what he was hearing. Minami, bound to a gangster? Yuri shook his head a little, and tried again to form his thoughts into a more clear and linear fashion. At the same moment, Yuri noted the tense in which Otabek spoke.

“Was?” he asked, and Otabek smirked.

“I did not get where I am because of my looks, Yuri,” Otabek said, and withdrew from his pocket a tiny, empty vial.

Something about Otabek's cold smile suddenly made Yuri feel slightly sick, and his hands tensed into fists over his blankets.

“Otabek,” Yuri murmured nervously, “what did you do?”

“Absolutely nothing,” Otabek replied smoothly, though Yuri did not believe him for a second. “I attended a dinner recently, a number of my Asian investment groups were in attendance, so it was natural that we chose an Asian restaurant to conduct our business in—sushi, to be precise.

“It's fascinating, really, what lengths humans will go to prove themselves to their colleagues, and when I pronounced that I'd never risk my life by eating something as dangerous as fugu—puffer fish—well, Mr Lee immediately ordered a platter of fugu sashimi for himself, and wouldn't you know, it can be poisonous—deadly, in fact—if incorrectly prepared.

“The next day, quite by chance, the police received a frantic call from a servant of the Lee household. Seung-Gil Lee was dead—fugu poisoning. Tragic, really, I hear death by tetrodotoxin is quite painful.”

Otabek looked markedly pleased with himself, but Yuri felt positively sickened. He couldn't deny that someone like Seung-Gil probably deserved what was coming to him, but at the same time, to gaze at Otabek and see his calm, pleased expression, as though he'd done some sort of good deed was deeply chilling to see.

“A-and what about Minami?” Yuri asked uncertainly.

“He's downstairs,” Otabek replied smoothly, apparently unaffected by his admittance that he'd committed murder. “He just got here. Michele had apparently put in a bid for him, but by a stroke of luck, I got there first. The authorities have agreed to let me shelter him either until an unbound alpha makes a bid for him, or a House has space to take him in. I called my doctor, and he is seeing to Minami's injuries, and I have made contact with a psychologist to assess the damage Mr Lee has done to his mind.” He paused and eased back a little in his seat, and as he levelled his gaze with Yuri again, his expression shifted from gratified to concerned. “What's wrong, Yuri? I thought you'd be pleased that your friend is out of danger.”

“No, I am glad that he's safe,” Yuri explained nervously, “but...but...you just...you killed a man and you're acting like it's nothing.”

“I'd hardly call someone who hurts a person in their care a man,” Otabek countered, and Yuri's frown deepened.

“You still killed someone, Otabek!” Yuri hissed, and he growled a curse when he felt a lump of emotion settle itself in his throat. “You...you didn't have to kill him, just get Minami away from him!”

“And if it got back to him who took his omega, there would be hell to pay,” Otabek countered with a frown, “the safest option to get Minami out of there and keep you from harm was the final option. I don't understand why you're so upset about this.”

“And I don't understand how you could be so calm about this!” Yuri countered, his voice close to hysterical.

“You know what? Forget it,” Otabek snapped as he jumped up from his chair so quickly that it wobbled dangerously, and nearly toppled over. “I don't know what the hell I expected when I decided to do as you asked and get that omega away from his alpha. I don't know why I anticipated a thank-you or some sort of gratitude when you've systematically thrown my hospitality back in my face every single time. You know what, Yuri? I'm glad I gave up on wooing you, I have never in my life met someone so ungrateful as you in my entire life, and maybe I will finally know some peace once you've gone.”

Before Yuri could say a word, Otabek stormed towards the door, and slammed it shut behind him.

Yuri stared at the shut door for a long time, assuming Otabek would come back and apologize. When he never did, Yuri tugged his blanket up to his chin, and valiantly ignored the unpleasant sting of unshed tears in his eyes.

Otabek had never been worth crying over, and Yuri refused to start now.

A/N: If you like my work, please consider throwing a few bucks into my Digital Tip Jar. I am a starving artist, and I like not actually starving to death :P you can also support me on Patreon, where I am posting all things related to my upcoming cookbook. Simply Vegan

NLMG Masterpost

[aftgonice]

Some WttM thoughts

I still haven’t calmed down from the madness (lbr I never will) but I’m going to try to put some thoughts together. I’m sorry if this will be a mess but I try. 

I was there for the whole of it. Well, I wasn’t there when the videos were shown or the manga pages were translated, but I was there when denkimouse started tweeting about it and then I stayed up all night with my internet friends screaming about it here on tumblr (#ripmynotificatons2k17). I saw us all freaking out and I still am freaking out because HOLY SHIT YOI DID THAT. They actually did that.

As a fandom, it’s really normal and expected and amazing that we focus on a ship we all well, most of us love. The first leaked screenshots were understandably about Otabek ripping Yuri’s glove off jesus i still can’t believe he.did.that. and I know for a fact that that’s the most shocking thing about this whole WttM deal and that’s all I’ll talk about probably for the rest of my life (unless the movie outdoes it, which knowing the YOI creators............I’m honestly shaking at the thought of what they might bring us).

I know we also saw it as a very sexual act and tbh there’s no denying it is (that is not to say that I think it’s canon that they have or will have sex pre or post exhibition skate, but I do believe that shoving your freaking finger in someone else’s mouth the way Yuri did is a really intimate act that you just don’t do with someone you’re just friends with -unless I’m the weird one and everyone else does that, which I’m pretty sure they don’t). 

So with a reminder that a ship being canon (which I fully believe Otayuri is as of today) doesn’t mean that the characters have had or are having sex (or kissing, or anything at all), I’d like to point out that watching the video of Yuri’s exhibition skate I’m also really, really happy that that part only takes up only mere seconds of Yuri’s skate.

Let me elaborate.

The whole point of WttM is for Yuri to fix his public image as a skater because he was sick and tired of being remembered as the prima ballerina who only skates to classical music (see the first scans of the manga that were leaked a few days ago, with newspaper headlines focusing on that), and most of all he didn’t want his free skate (that he isn’t fully satisfied with) to be what people talk about, and his tears to be the most shocking thing that happened on the ice (if you ask me, him breaking Victor’s world record is already pretty shocking and amazing, but I believe this is a case of Yuri being an unreliable narrator here -which most teens are). 

So I’m glad that Yuri, even with a serious case of crushing on Otabek Altin hard, didn’t linger with his fingers in Otabek’s mouth, didn’t change his choreography to make his skate more sexual than it already was, didn’t waste precious seconds of skating routine for the sake of a boy he’s crushing on. Even mere seconds of that were enough anyway, to shock the audience (both the skating fans within the anime and us YOI fans) and give people something to talk about other than his tears the previous day, and then he simply kept skating, with his heart pounding because holy shit I can’t believe I just did that, I actually felt the inside of Otabek’s mouth but it was just a second and now I’m here and I need to show them how good I am, with this choreography and this song that I made with my new best friend/crush. 

Yuri’s character has always been about his skating and with Otabek’s arrival in ep10 we started seeing that he can be about much more, and WttM definitely showed us even more of that, but it also showed us that Yuri didn’t change from one day to the other. He is still mostly about skating and shocking his audience (something very Victor-like), and I’m glad the creators didn’t sacrifice his character for the sake of fanservice.

Once again, the YOI staff did nothing wrong in my eyes and I can’t even begin to express how grateful I am.

[shirosucc]

can you rec yoi blogs to follow?

i don’t follow that many yoi blogs bc having a super active dash overwhelms me but sure!! you’re probably following most of these amazing people already if you know who i am but i’ll take any chance to gush about how great all the people in this fandom are :’’’) also keep in mind i tend to only follow otayuri-centric blogs

 in alphabetical order below the cut sorry this is so long omg

@altisetsky​

liv! my beautiful wife!! so so so talented and one of the sweetest people i’ve met in my life :’) she is a (self-proclaimed) sfw blog so you can browse in public without worrying AND her writing is fucking amazing. i still haven’t forgiven her for wither me down. i will never forgive her for wither me down. but check out the rest of her writing as well!!!!!!!

@baramini and @blueberrysenpaii​

two of the most supportive people in this fandom i love them i cherish them they’re too good for this world please protect them

@betelxeuse​

recent mutual but u can always count on her to be posting some Highly Relatable Otayuri Content !!!

@blameotayuri​

also posts pics of her cats and occasionally if we are blessed enough she will grace us w vids of her singing :’) all around lovely person 

@crescendotayuri​

u know how nicki minaj’s verse on monster was so good kanye almost considered taking it off bc he was Threatened?? that’s how i feel about jen. so talented it’s unfair. her writing (whether it’s pwp or pure fluff) and her art are both SO good and she deserves all the love in the world pls go love her

@daddybek​

u know exactly what this is. there’s no way you’re not following kim already but unfollow and follow her again she deserves it i love her a ridiculous amount

@dicktor-thicciforov​

my url partner in crime!! also reblogs extremely relatable content and i’m angry bc they’re funnier than me

@dj-altin​

BEAUTIFUL ART THAT WE DON’T DESERVE TO EVEN LOOK AT BUT ARE PROVIDED WITH ANYWAYS seriously this fandom did nothing to deserve dj altin but i’m so grateful we have them 

@fuku-shuu​

not solely yoi (reblogs snk too) but 100% worth following for the adorable fanart translations also mika is a lovely person and deserves all the follows either way

@iamatrashfan​

ANOTHER ARTIST WE DO NOT DESERVE!! so prolific with beautiful art i’m wondering how it’s possible but also I Am Not Complaining

@icetiiger​

cutest art i ever did see in my entire Gosh Darn life

@kanekkis​

THE CUTEST SWEETEST PERSON IN THIS ENTIRE FANDOM SORRY I HAVE A LOT OF FEELINGS ABOUT ELLE and if you haven’t read any of her fics i’m begging you to please go bless yourself right now !! some of my personal faves are From Them To Us, Spontaneous Combustion, and Like the Sun (Can’t Cover it Up and the Accuse Me Thus series are classics too)

@katsu-nikii​

every time i remember cat follows me i cry a lil bit. my aesthetic soulmate i lov her so much :’’’) she’s so funny and her art is so GOOD every time she draws grown up beka i want to die. i wish i could scream about her art for the rest of my entire life.

@kawaiilo-ren and @dizzytea​ and @llyn-on-ice​

cool so i know i say this a lot but literally this fandom doesn’t deserve any of them. will i ever stop screaming about their aus and all the beautiful wonderful fucking sinful art/fics they come up with for them and the fandom in general? please lmk. personally i’m still crying from the time i sent llyn a question for an ask game and accidentally uncovered More Daddy Kink

@onotherflights 

hi shameless plug please go read her fic almaty’s fire which deserves all the attention in the world !! my first mutual on tumblr dot com I Don’t Deserve Her, also special shoutout to her sideblog @thiccbek​

@otayuriism​

ash is too chill and too cool for all of us and if u don’t have like, at least a tiny crush on her you’re probably lying to me and i don’t tolerate lying on this blog? her fuckboy otabek au cleared my skin and watered my crops and impeached donald trump and put $500 in my bank account. also in general all her hcs are so good and i want 1000 fics written about each of them immediately

@meimagino​

my actual momther. i love her. deserves nothing but the very best in this world but all i have to offer her are memes and my love. taught me more about financial aid and self-validation and credit cards than my actual parents did

@milyyuri​

og meme queen!! my inspiration i hope to one day make memes half as spicy as hers

@novocaine-sea​

a blessing????? i love her????? golden made me cry like a tiny fucking baby and apparently she has more angst fics on the way (lmao aja pls if ur reading this please have mercy on us all)

@otabaeee

dream meme team and queen of both jjbek and otayuri :’’’) so sweet and so kind and also the most beautiful person i’ve seen in my entire life seriously have you ever seen anyone so beautiful please leak your makeup routine noelle!!!!!!!

@otabottom

sometimes u just….really gotta think about otabek altin getting dicked down…..u gotta…….. also her fics are so good i can’t believe one (1) person is allowed to have all this talent

@plisaltin

posts the most beautiful edits!!! one of the first yoi/otayuri blogs i followed i would highly recommend

@sarah-yyy

doesn’t reblog a lot of yoi content but worth following so you can immediately see whenever she posts a new fic and begin to scream. i was going to list my fav fics of hers but like, i realized that would’ve been every single fic she’s ever written so  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ 

@severeminx

i literally created an AO3 account just so i could subscribe to liquor stash and that accurately sums up how i feel about her writing :’) the vodka aunt this fandom does not deserve

@viktornikiforow

a genuinely super sweet person and her gifs/graphics are so beautiful and so aesthetic i love

@vktr-nkfrv

i know i scream about angel’s writing like, all the time, but seriously she’s such an underrated writer and i will not stop until she receives the recognition she deserves (which is all of it. she deserves all the recognition). hablar del amor, y defenderlo made me cry three separate times and i recommend it HIGHLY also she’s such a sweet human bean and i don’t deserve her friendship

@yuratchka-speaks and @bekaspeaks

THE MOST TALENTED AND ALSO PROBABLY THE NICEST PEOPLE EVER??? im begging you dont listen to their fight audio unless you want to cry for an extremely long time (jk you absolutely should listen to it and reblog it and like it just know that You Will Cry)

[kitties-and-rice-cakes-blog]

FIC TIME PEEPS.

So this was requested by the lovely @shutuptimmy under the prompt of “Seung-gil X JJ fluff”. Now this was something else I didn’t even realise was a ship, but this was really fun to write. I haven’t done fluff in ageeeeeeees so this was lovely ^^

You may have notice that my other stuff is tagged “nsfw” but this one is totally safe so I’ll be starting an “sfw” tag now too. Just a little heads up :3

Reeeeeeeeally hope you guys enjoy this!

He knew how obvious it was.

He knew this wasn’t normal for him.

For a while he’d been able to act normal and keep his usual grin on his face but now…

Everyone already knew anyway. Why bother acting like he was okay?

Even if someone didn’t know what had happened, just looking at JJ was enough to make you realise he was not alright. His hair was a mess, he had bags under his eyes that hadn’t gone away in weeks, he was getting worryingly skinny, he wasn’t landing jumps properly in practice, and he wasn’t speaking.

That last one was the biggest one. JJ would talk to everyone and anyone, and it was normal for the other skaters, particularly quiet or angry ones like Yuri Plisetsky or Otabek Altin, to completely ignore him or tell him to shut up. But even they had been worried about him recently.

JJ knew he was worrying his friends and competitors, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Every competition, every practice, every gala it was the same.

“Hey JJ, good to see you. How’re you holding up?”

“I can’t imagine how you must be feeling. I am really sorry JJ.”

“Everyone’s really worried about you, you know. I hope you feel better soon.”

And JJ was done answering stupid questions or reassuring his friends that he was okay. He wasn’t okay. Nobody would be okay if their fiancé left them.

JJ had never taken Isabella for granted, but he hadn’t realised how important she was to him until she was gone. She had sworn to him that it wasn’t because of anybody else, that she just needed time to herself after dedicating her own life to JJ’s sport, but that was all just empty words to the Canadian. It hurt. He’d loved her; he still did. But now she was gone.

It had been two months now, but it hadn’t stopped hurting. Everyone had told him that it would get better, but so far they’d been proved wrong. He knew he should but he didn’t have it in him to unfollow her on Instagram, so he knew she was fine. Or at least she looked fine, going out to dinner with her friends, traveling to Paris with her parents and actually making a comment that it was nice to be in a city for reasons other than skating tournaments. That crushed JJ. He still didn’t unfollow her though.

Right now, JJ was walking through the halls of the rink in Barcelona, where he had come third in the Grand Prix Finals, the year Isabella had started the cheering and singing when he’d had his breakdown during his routine. He had his hood up and his headphones in. He should have been on the ice twenty minutes ago and he knew his parents would be looking for him, but he couldn’t bear to look at that rink again because all it held for him now were memories of Isabella supporting him.

He’d already ran into Yuuri, Viktor, Sara, Otabek and Leo, and he had walked right past all of them. They were all here for a gala, and while it wasn’t competitive it was to get the public interested before the new season for figure skating started, so it was important to gain supporters. The actual gala was tomorrow and today was just the practice, but that still meant everybody was here.

Apart from Yuuri, who had just given him a sympathetic smile which he was extremely grateful for, everyone else had tried to stop JJ to talk to him. But JJ didn’t want to talk. He didn’t want to be here…

Squeezing his eyes shut and turning the volume of his music up to full blast, JJ began to walk faster, storming ahead through the corridors…

Until he smacked right into someone walking the opposite way.

Falling down to the floor and pulling his headphones out of his ears, JJ looked up to see Seung-gil, the South Korean skater, lying on the floor just slightly away from him.

“Oh damn, Seung-gil I’m really sorry,” JJ stammered out, pulling his hood down.

Blue eyes met dark, and for the first time since he’d known him JJ swore he saw Seung-gil’s eyes soften slightly. “Just watch where you’re going next time,” Seung-gil replied, brushing his own hair out of his eyes.

“I will. Sorry,” JJ responded, feeling a tiny smile grow on his face.

Seung-gil frowned. “Why are you smiling?”

JJ chuckled slightly under his breath. “I’m…not sure.”

Seung-gil sighed before standing up. “You’re a strange one JJ,” he stated before offering his hand to the younger Canadian.

“Well I won’t deny that,” JJ replied before taking Seung-gil’s hand and allowing him to help him up. “So have you already practiced?”

Seung-gil nodded. “Yeah, I had the second slot after Plisetsky.”

“I’ve seen your videos of your routine for the gala,” JJ smiled. “Looks like you’re back to your regular stuff.”

“Yeah, well,” Seung-gil shrugged. “The mambo stuff was…different…but didn’t exactly have the reaction I was hoping for. Seems like I’m just built for more lyrical music.” JJ nodded in agreement as Seung-gil looked at his watch. “Speaking of which, aren’t you meant to be on the ice now?”

JJ’s smile faded and his gaze dropped to the floor. “Yeah…well…um…”

JJ heard Seung-gil sigh slightly and he glanced back up.

“You’ve not been back here since you won bronze, have you?” Seung-gil asked, although it sounded more like a statement than a question.

JJ slowly shook his head. “I haven’t…but it’s got nothing to do with the bronze.”

Seung-gil held his hand up and JJ fell silent. “I know exactly what it’s to do with JJ,” he murmured, speaking softer than JJ had ever heard him before.

Glancing around them Seung-gil seemed to decide something before he began to walk off, calling, “Come on,” to JJ before he pulled his phone out.

JJ quickly followed him. “Where are we going?” he asked.

“Out of here,” Seung-gil answered quickly before pressed the ‘send’ button on his phone. About ten seconds later he got a reply. Reading it he said, “Phichit’s taking your practice slot. That means you’ve got his at the end of the day. He’s going to explain to your parents.”

“Hang on a second,” JJ said, grabbing hold of Seung-gil’s sleeve and pulling him back so he stopped walking. “I’m confused. Why are we leaving?”

Seung-gil turned back to look at him and actually smiled slightly. JJ felt his heart pick up as he dropped his hold on Seung-gil’s arm.

“Because you’re not going to skate your best right now,” Seung-gil answered simply. “And to be quite frank, I need you to be on top form so I’ve actually got some competition out there.”

JJ chuckled again in spite of himself. “You know it’s not a competition tomorrow Lee.”

Seung-gil shrugged, still smiling, before continuing to walk towards the exit. “Point of principle. Now come on. I want tapas.”

JJ didn’t think he was going to be laughing again for a very long time. What he also didn’t count on though was Seung-gil actually being one of the funniest people he’d ever spoken to.

Seung-gil wasn’t one to crack jokes, but he was very dry, and JJ loved that sense of humour. He knew Seung-gil didn’t open up to most people; the longest conversation he’d ever seen him have with someone else was when he told Sara to leave him alone when she’d tried to strike up a conversation with him. So he was very grateful that he was keeping him distracted.

That was exactly what JJ needed right now; a distraction. Something to keep his attention away from his phone and Isabella’s Instagram and the thought of having to skate on that ice again.

“So your program’s changed a lot this year too,” Seung-gil said as he picked up a small bowl of chicken from the tapas they’d chosen. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you skate to a sad ballad number before.”

“Yeah, it didn’t seem right to stick to the cheery songs,” JJ admitted. “Everyone knows what happened, so it seemed right to base my routines around those feelings. It’s how I’m feeling right now so it makes sense to skate to that kind of music.”

“Hmm…” Seung-gil hummed thoughtfully as he chewed on his food, eyeing JJ carefully.

JJ frowned. “What? Do I have food on my face or something?”

“No,” Seung-gil replied as he swallowed his food, “but that was the first time you’ve managed to talk about anything to do with Isabella without looking like you’re about to shut down.”

The abruptness of Seung-gil’s statement was a shock to JJ, but then he realised the Korean was right. Any mention of even his routines had sent the Canadian back into that pit he was beginning to get used to, until right now. Locking eyes with Seung-gil, JJ laughed under his breath.

“What is it?” Seung-gil asked, not looking away.

“You haven’t changed,” JJ said simply. “Everyone else is tiptoeing around me. They don’t know what to say or do so they all treat me differently than they used to. But you…you’ve kept me busy. You spent over an hour with me and didn’t bring Isabella up, and then when you did I was fine. Even before now you acted like anyone should when someone bumps into you and sends you falling to the floor. You didn’t let me off with it just because of what happened. It’s refreshing to be honest.”

Seung-gil rolled his eyes slightly. “JJ of course I’m treating you differently. I’m actually talking to you. Normal would be me ignoring you and pretending you don’t exist because to be honest usually you’re a giant pain in the ass.”

JJ burst out laughing at how Seung-gil said that all without batting an eyelid. Seung-gil picked up his glass of water and smiled as he took a sip.

“Seriously though JJ,” he said as the younger man calmed down, “I’m not stupid. There’s no point in asking if you’re okay. Of course you’re not. You’re an amazing skater and I’ve kept a close eye on you ever since we began to compete against each other. I know how much you loved her. So of course you’re hurt. And what she did to you was awful. But I also know you’re never going to get back up on your feet if you keep wallowing in your grief. You deserve better than her, and the best way to show that you’re back in the game is to do brilliantly at the gala tomorrow. But you wouldn’t have done that if your practice had gone terribly. Enter the distraction.”

JJ was shocked. He’d never heard Seung-gil talk that much in his life, and he’d never expected him to say something like that. Part of him felt like he wanted to cry, but most of him wanted to run back to that rink right now and practice till dawn.

But above all that, one part of Seung-gil’s little speech stood out amongst the rest of it.

“You’ve…kept a close eye on me?” JJ asked quietly.

The Canadian’s heart sped up again slightly when he saw a flash of a blush dance over Seung-gil’s cheeks. He looked down slightly. “Well…you’re my competition. And you’re a good skater. Of course I’m going to watch you.”

“Actually a second ago you said I was an amazing skater, not just good,” JJ smirked.

Seung-gil glared up at him but with a glimmer of humour in his eyes. “Watch it Leroy, or I’ll be making you pay for all this food.”

JJ’s smirk turned into a proper grin before he stood up. “I was planning to anyway,” he winked at Seung-gil before quickly jogging over to the counter. Seung-gil opened his mouth to protest but slowly closed it again, once again smiling into his glass of water.

Everyone else was gone apart from JJ, his parents and Seung-gil. The rink was quiet as JJ took some deep breaths in the centre of the ice to focus himself before he nodded to his father to start the music. Shooting a quick glance at Seung-gil he saw the Korean nod once and smile at him. JJ returned the gesture before the music started and he began his practice.

By the time the music ended his mother was in tears, and his father was very nearly there too. That was the first time in weeks he’d skated an entire routine without falling or missing a step.

Staying in his finishing position for a few seconds to get his breath back, JJ heard someone clapping. Looking for the source he saw Seung-gil beaming from ear to ear, clapping as loudly as his hands would let him. Nathalie and Alain quickly joined in as JJ skated over to the exit, his parents hugging him tightly as soon as he was off. Seung-gil hung back, allowing them to embrace their son.

“JJ, that was amazing,” Nathalie gushed, her tears still fresh on her face.

“Thanks mom,” JJ grinned, slipping on his skate guards once his father had passed them to him. Glancing over his shoulder at Seung-gil he turned back to his parents. “Listen, I’ll get changed and head back to the hotel in a little bit, okay? I won’t be long, promise.”

“Take all the time you need son,” Alain replied, clapping JJ on the shoulder before he and his wife headed for the exit.

As they passed Seung-gil, Nathalie grasped his hand and shook it. “Thank you dear,” she murmured. “Thank you so much.”

Seung-gil just nodded, slightly embarrassed, before JJ’s parents left the rink.

“Your parents are really nice,” Seung-gil said once they were alone, sitting down next to JJ as he unlaced his skates.

“Yeah, they’re the best,” JJ smiled. “I know I’ve really worried them lately. I think that’s why they were so relieved tonight. My sister told me they were scared I was going to give up skating.”

“Would they have been angry if you had done that?” Seung-gil asked.

JJ shook his head as he took his skates off and zipped them up in his bag. “No, they wouldn’t have been angry. They were skaters too, but they never pushed me into this. I wanted to skate. They know how much I love it, so I think they were scared I was going to lose something else I love.”

Seung-gil nodded in understanding, impressed that JJ was now able to say things like that without getting upset. He felt strangely proud of his new unlikely companion, but he’d never tell him that.

JJ sat up properly once he’d slipped his normal shoes on and turned to face Seung-gil properly. “Hey, you’re at the same hotel as us, right? I think I saw you in the lobby this morning.”

“Yes I am. I saw you too. You were talking to Viktor and Katsuki. Or they were talking to you at least.”

JJ chuckled once again, and Seung-gil smiled.

“Well…do you want to walk back together?” JJ asked softly.

Seung-gil was surprised at the vulnerability in JJ’s voice, and his smile grew slightly as he answered, “I’d like that.”

JJ’s own face broke into a grin before the two headed towards the exit. Just before they reached the door JJ reached out and took hold of Seung-gil’s hand. Their eyes flew to each other’s as JJ swallowed heavily.

“Um…thank you. For today. I mean it, thank you,” JJ managed to stammer out, his heart now thudding in his chest.

Seung-gil looked down as he chuckled slightly from his own nerves before he raised his eyes to once again meet JJ’s. “You’re welcome,” he replied softly, still smiling.

JJ’s face was bright red, and he began to loosen his grip on Seung-gil’s hand, meaning to let it go.

But Seung-gil tightened his grip slightly.

Their eyes met again for a moment before Seung-gil looked down again.

“…Only if you want to,” he said quietly.

Now it was JJ’s turn to smile as he squeezed Seung-gil’s hand gently. “I do,” he replied.

Seung-gil didn’t look back up, but his smile came back as the two skaters walked out into the warm Spanish night, hand in hand.

Thank you again to @shutuptimmy for requesting this!

In case people are interested, the fics that will be getting working on next are from anon submission to my ask box, and they are Guang-Hong X Leo, a rather steamy Christophe fic, and some Phichit X Yuuri loveliness :3 Not giving you any more details than that!

As always, if you have any requests for fics, smut, fluff, Yuri on Ice or otherwise, feel free to message me or send an ask! As always thank you for reading! 

[sylveon-official]

back at it again with the mpreg trash

title: Stay Gold rating: T pairings: Otabek Altin/Yuri Plisetsky, Victor Nikiforov/Yuuri Katsuki warnings: abo, mpreg, childbirth

btw y’all have no idea who i am but thanks @tomakehimfree and @n-s-f-w-sportsbaes for high key inspiring me to start writing this shit again but now just for the yoi fandom lol

read on archiveofourown or under the cut.

At age 18, Yuri Plisetsky certainly expected to be back at his fourth consecutive Grand Prix Final since making his senior debut. As the current defending three-time gold medalist, he has a title to uphold after all. So needless to say, Yuri certainly belonged on the side of the rink watching the free-skate unfold beside the rest of the GPF finalists – the problem was, he wasn’t actually one of them. Yuri’s pretty the ISU would have disqualified him as early as the five month mark when he started showing – now that he’s a healthy eight months and some change into his pregnancy, he’s quite sure his globe of a belly would get in the way of some of the more technical requirements involved in his free-skate routine. 

Not that he hadn’t seriously thought about how he could start adjusting the elements to accommodate his growing belly when he found out about his pregnancy a good couple of months into fine-tuning what would have been his new routines for the current season.

But alas, Yuri’s baby-daddy extraordinaire and favorite for GPF gold in Yuri’s absence, one Otabek Altin, had shut down any and all innocent fantasies Yuri had of even so much as stepping foot on the ice for the rest of the season. By principle, Yuri understood, of course – the ice isn’t exactly a forgiving surface when you’re baking a vulnerable human child inside of you. The last eight months hadn’t exactly been a breeze when, on top of the moodiness and the weight-gain and the nausea, Yuri wasn’t even allowed to use the ice as a means of stress-relief.

So yes, after Yuri’s second gold medal-win at Worlds eight months ago, he had all but planned to return and defend what should have been his fourth senior division GPF win in a row. But after a wild night of celebration with a certain Worlds silver-medalist, which may or may not have been so spectacular it triggered Yuri’s heat a solid month early… Yuri guesses maybe he should have foreseen his current position on the sideline of the rink rather than in it.

Yuri supposes he should at least be grateful that he’s here now, that the skating Gods decided to take pity on him by conveniently hosting this year’s GPF conveniently in Saint Petersburg. Arms folded on the edge of the barrier, Yuri eyes his mate as he reaches down to remove his skate guards. Otabek was at a comfortable 3rd place, 2 points ahead of the pork cutlet bowl after the short program yesterday. Yuri is confident he can at least snag the silver, depending on Katsudon’s performance today – to be fair, he’s supposedly retiring this year, so he’s been more motivated than ever to grab the gold in order to fulfill Victor’s stupid wedding pact. Yuri knows they’ll get married regardless of the results, but he guesses it’d be kind of romantic if the piggy could actually pull it off.

Yuri wrinkles his nose once he realizes he’s just had a thought that’s included “Victor”, “the piggy”, and “romantic” all in the same sentence, but just as easily discards it under the pretense of pregnancy brain. Yuri Plisetsky hasn’t been getting soft in his journey to accidental parenthood, not at all – his brain is just getting all messed up because of the hormones, he thinks, even has he returns the friendly peace sign Katsuki throws at him from the other side of the rink.

Otabek must have noticed, because a second later he’s shooting a small, wry smirk at Yuri that his him rolling his eyes.

“What, Beka?”

Otabek merely catches his hand in his from where he’s kneeling on the ground getting in a quick calf-stretch before his turn on the ice.

He presses a soft kiss to Yuri’s fingertips before teasing, “Conspiring with my competition?”

Yuri huffs and snatches his hand away, flicking Otabek softly on the side of his cheek.

“The old man’s finally retiring this year. I’m just cutting him some slack. 

“And I’m sure it has nothing to do with the help he’s been to you the last eight months?”

Yuri pulls a face that has Otabek chuckling to himself. Sure, the Katsudon has probably frequented Yuri and Otabek’s Saint Petersburg apartment more than his and Victor’s own in Yuri’s third trimester, but wasn’t like Yuri was begging for the other omega’s constant doting on. Even if he didn’t mind the weekly pork cutlet bowl meals he’d been spoiled with, it wasn’t necessary – except for when he’d called the pork cutlet bowl himself over to the apartment at 5 in the morning on a Sunday to satisfy his craving for one, but that was only one time. Okay, maybe two. Three tops.

Otabek pulls himself up just as China’s Guang Hong is wrapping up his final step sequence.

“Well. Don’t fuck it up.” Yuri allows a small smile to tug at his lips as he drops a hand to his mate’s hip.

“Hey. Language.” Otabek chides, patting the side of Yuri’s belly.

“Ugh, let me live while she’s still in there feeding on my organs.” Yuri heaves a dramatic sigh and runs a hand across the back of Otabek’s undercut before bringing their foreheads together.

“Stop making her sound like a zombie. Feasting on organs… very un-ladylike.” Otabek frowns faintly then presses a chaste kiss to Yuri’s lips.

“Hey, I know your family’s traditional, Otabek, but if our princess wants to be a flesh-eating zombie, she’ll be the best damn brain-eater in all of Russia, fuck your gender roles.”

“You’re ridiculous.” Otabek shakes his head, but he’s smiling that half-smile he does when he’s trying to contain an even bigger one, one of those rare, toothy grins he only does when he’s about to say something really sappy.

Before he can quite get to that point, Guang Hong is taking his bows and the announcers are getting ready to call Otabek out to the ice. 

Yuri presses one last kiss to Otabek’s lips and pulls a simple thumbs-up.

“Davai, Beka. 

Otabek nods his head once and returns the gesture, a determined glint in his eye. He fondly rubs his hand over the side of Yuri’s belly, a habit he’s taken to lately before heading onto the ice that leaves Yuri feeling vaguely like one of those big-bellied Buddha statues people rub for good luck at temples in Japan. He’s almost affronted enough to say as much, but the next moment the announcer is calling Otabek’s name and he’s skating out into the middle of the rink to start his program.

Yuri sighs into his palm as he watches his mate glide across the ice and into his starting pose. Impending fatherhood has inspired him more than ever to skate a solid program – “It’s because I’m skating for the two now”, he’d said after his Rostelecom Cup win before embarrassingly kissing Yuri’s forehead, then leaning down to kiss his belly – the resulting video had stayed viral for weeks. Yuri had smacked him upside the head and told him to stop taking flirting advice from Victor. Training under the skating legend this past year had done wonders for Otabek’s actual skating, but been questionable for his personality, and Yuri made sure to tell his mate as much 

Otabek is coming out of a perfectly rotated quad toe-loop combination when he fumbles and just nearly gets by without touching the ice as he transitions into an arabesque. Yuri finds himself tensing up along with his mate.

“Beka, davai!” His cheers probably get drowned out by the noisy stadium, but it’s basically tradition by this point that he root for his mate from the sidelines. “Come on— ugh.”

Yuri’s screeching comes to a sudden halt as a familiar stab of pain shoots through his lower back and creeps down into his lower belly.

“Not now…”

Yuri grits his teeth together and rests his palm on his lower back in an attempt to massage out some of the tension. At eight months, he’s no stranger to false labor pains and the intensity has only been building the closer he gets to the real thing. Yuri places his arms back onto the barrier and bends at a ninety-degree angle to stretch out his throbbing back, belly hanging heavily between his thighs. He slides his feet outward so that his legs are resting in a half split – he may be about forty pounds heavier, but he’s still managed to maintain his flexibility for the most part. This was a fact that he was sure to rub into the Katsudon’s face during the off-season this year when he’d gotten a little bit soft and a little less flexible.

Usually his flexibility does wonders to soothe away the tightness, but this time Yuri jerks when it’s back just as suddenly as it had gone. The shock of it makes him bury his face in the arm folded on the barrier, his other arm shooting down to cradle the underside of his bump.

“Ah, what the fuck, baby…” Yuri whines into the crook of his elbow and rocks backward on the balls of his feet to stretch out the cramp.

He’s on his toes, pushing his backside out when he feels more than hears the distinct squelching of liquid in his favorite tiger-print maternity pants. Panicked, Yuri looks out into the rink where Otabek is executing a perfect camel spin, then to the audience behind him who are too busy cheering to notice his embarrassing predicament, before he catches Yuuri’s concerned gaze from across the rink.

Victor is working on tightening Yuuri’s laces, prepping him for his turn on the ice after Otabek. Yuri must be making a rather troubling face though, because the next moment, other Yuuri is waving off a confused Victor and jogging over to the other side of the rink as fast as his skate guards will allow 

Yuri is busy groaning through what he now clearly realizes is a real contraction when Katsuki makes it to his side.

“Yuri?” he ventures, placing a hand to his back and rubbing soothing circles onto it. “Are you—oh.”

Yuri figures he must have spotted the fluid leaking steadily down his pants and onto the floor.

“Yeah, oh. What the fuck am I— what do I—haah, fuck…” Yuri hates how pathetic he sounds even to his own ears, but he’s kind of at a loss here. He’d had a C-section scheduled for two weeks from now and he is sorely unprepared to face a genuine labor, especially when he’s in an ice skating arena with thousands of screaming fans and the world’s top figure skaters to witness it.

“I-I don’t really…” he hears Yuuri suck in a deep breath, steeling himself, before placing a firm hand on Yuri’s lower back and grabbing the crook of his elbow with the other one. 

“Here, let’s sit down first.” As he’s guided into an upright position, Yuri breathes a sigh of relief when he sees that Otabek is still fully concentrated on his routine, prepping for his mid-routine jump combination. 

Yuri practically melts into the other skater’s side the moment he sits them down on the bench behind them. Yuuri brushes on hand through the side of Yuri’s hair that isn’t pulled back into French braids, working out a few tangles that have already managed to gather there.

Yuri moans, long and low, as another contraction rips through his lower belly and back. He muffles the end of it into Yuuri’s neck, drawing in a deep breath and finding his nerves somewhat calmed by the scent of another omega.

“That’s it. I’ve got you, Yuri, you’re okay.” Yuuri whispers into his hair, hand cupped firmly to the base of his skull. 

“I’m not, though!” Yuri wails, sliding down into Yuuri’s chest. The increasing pain is becoming too much for him to process coherently, and he fists a hand in Yuuri’s jacket to take off some of the edge as the other skater shushes him softly, gently rocking them back and forth.

“Yurachka?” Yuri briefly recognizes the sound of Victor’s low, concerned voice as he places a comforting hand to his trembling shoulder before directing the rest of the conversation to other Yuuri.

“Yuuri, you’re up any minute now. Why don’t you let me take care him—,” but Yuuri cuts him off before he’s able to finish the suggestion.

“Get medical.”

There’s a short, but weighted pause.

“Is he in…-?”

“Yes. Get medical.” Yuuri repeats more firmly and then the sound Victor’s feet pounding on the concrete resonates vaguely in Yuri’s mind, hazy from his pain-addled state. 

When the latest contraction has passed, Yuri looks up at the rink just in time to lock eyes with a very conflicted-looking Otabek, poised in a lazy spread-eagle that Yuri knows by the swell in the music he’s holding out for a few beats too long. Otabek’s about one minute out from finishing his program and Yuri swears he won’t let him hold their newborn for a month if he gives up the podium when he’s this far in.

“Otabek Altin, don’t you fucking dare get your ass off that ice!” Yuri screeches loudly and suddenly enough to make other Yuuri flinch in surprise and for Otabek to tear away from his gaze and into a triple flip Yuri knows he’s just made the snap decision of adding in for technical points to make up for the short step sequence he’d just omitted.

Post-outburst, Yuri collapses against the other omega once more, but this time it’s accompanied by a puzzling sensation in his pelvis.

“Ooh…” Yuri breathes out shakily, thighs trembling along with it as they try to accommodate the growing pressure in his hips.

“Yuri?”

 “Ah… It feels… It feels like…” Yuri’s head lolls against Yuuri’s shoulder as he tries to piece together the sensation, but a second later, and the pressure is culminating into a stinging pain that instantly has him in fat, wet tears.

“God, she’s-she’s coming now—,” Yuri starts, chest heaving with the weight of his sobs.

“I know, I know, help is on the way, I can see them heading over—” Yuuri assures, hurriedly, but he doesn’t understand.

“No you stupid Katsudon! I can feel her— coming out— ahh, fuck! Fuck!”

Yuri sees brown eyes widen in panicked understanding before he’s being hauled up without warning. 

“Okay, up we go!”

“What are you doing—ow!”

Yuri cries loud, wet sobs as the other man guides them into an alcove that leads to the stadium lobby. His weight starts to give out from under him when they’re about halfway down the hallway. Yuuri allows it, helping him to the floor with control. 

“Sorry. I thought you might like some privacy for this.” Yuuri explains before yanking off Yuri’s shoes and hooking his fingers into the elastic band of his pants.

Yuri doesn’t ask questions, just helps him by shimmying his hips until the pants are discarded. Yuuri quickly replaces them with his own Team Japan jacket draped over his knees. Yuri at least has enough energy in him to bitterly note that he’d much rather his baby be born underneath his own Team Russia jacket – isn’t this some form of skating treason?

He doesn’t have much time to think about it before the pressure intensifies more still with the assistance of yet another powerful contraction that’s telling his body to push now. He’s screaming so loud he doesn’t even register when the hallway begins to fill up with paramedics and camera flashes.

“Give the boy some privacy, da? Have some respect!” Yuri peaks through sweaty bangs to see Victor quite literally shoving at the press that have invited themselves to witness the birth of Yuri’s child, which has apparently turned into a public event right alongside the Grand Prix Final itself.

The medics and some guards step in to form a barrier against the flashing of cameras and clashing of microphones as Victor makes his way to Yuuri’s side.

“I talked to the ISU reps. They’re taking a break in the set. Can’t be good press to continue the competition when the reigning champion is giving birth next to the rink…” Yuri hears him whisper to his mate as paramedics start to make themselves present on Yuri’s other side and between his legs.

“Little Yurio here just couldn’t bear to give up his Grand Prix Final glory even when he’s unable to compete, hm?” Victor teases which earns him an audible smack in the chest from the Katsudon and mouthful of Russian expletives from Yuri.

“Mr. Plisetsky, I’m going to ask you to push on the next contraction. The baby’s crowning, so this shouldn’t take long, okay?” the medic between his thighs explains calmly, lifting up the jacket over his knees just slightly. 

Yuri braces himself by clasping hands with the omega beside him and biting his lip, eyes flitting briefly to the opening of the hallway, crowded with medics and guards and ISU officials. Otabek is obviously done with his program by now so why isn’t he—

Yuri catches the flash of Otabek’s red sequin-patterned shoulder pads pushing his way through the crowd just as he’s hit with the next contraction.

“Beka!” Yuri screams at the top of his lungs as he pushes, blindly reaching out his other hand and narrowly avoiding smacking a medic in the face as he makes a grabbing motion intended for Otabek’s arrival. His hand is occupied on the second push, accompanied by a familiar hand pushing sweat-slicked hair out of his eyes.

“Oh, Yura…” Otabek presses a kiss to Yuri’s forehead and the sensation is relieving enough to make Yuri heave out a sob completely unrelated to the immense pain he’s currently experiencing.

“Thank God…” Yuri sobs on the next push as Otabek whispers sentiments of what must be encouragement in Kazakh close to his ear.

“I have no fucking idea what you’re saying, Beka… but…” Yuri gasps between more words of encouragement from the medics, Victor, and Yuuri that just one more push is all it’ll take.

“… but you fucking better have won gold for me and our princess.”

Yuri’s fiery emerald gaze pierces Otabek’s own slightly taken aback hazel.

One more push is indeed all it takes for the Altin-Plisetsky heir to come kicking and screaming into the world, perfectly in tandem with Yuri’s own flailing and screeching.

 * 

“What took you so fucking long back there, anyway?” Yuri asks hours later at some ungodly time in the morning when he’s nestled in a hospital bed with his newborn sleeping soundly against his bare chest.

“Language.” Otabek sighs, tenderly stroking his daughter’s cheek from his seat at the side of Yuri’s bed.

“Oh… right.” Yuri blinks down at his child and absently brushes back her impressive brunette curls with his thumb. He did say he’d stop once she wasn’t leeching off of his innards.

What took you so… freaking long?” Yuri rasps out, voice scraped raw from the excitement and anxiety that comes with birthing your child in the middle of a major national ice skating championship competition.

Otabek gives him a long look before sighing and digging out his phone from his pocket.

“I’m assuming you haven’t seen the news.”

“No, sorry, was too busy sleeping off the exhaustion of pushing of a fu-freaking miniature human from out of my body with zero preparation or pain medication in the middle of an ice skating arena.” Yuri deadpans and Otabek responds with a fond smile and a full kiss on the lips.

“I know. I’m very proud of you.”

Yuri feels his entire face and neck heat up and he wonders how the hell Otabek still manages to make him feel like he’s being courted all over again, even now when the evidence of their bond is softly sighing into the skin of his chest.

Otabek must know exactly what he’s thinking because he’s got that smirk on his face that Yuri would love to smack off if it didn’t mean jostling his sleeping infant.

The next moment, Otabek is tapping something into his phone before wordlessly holding it up under Yuri’s nose. Yuri grabs it with the hand that’s not supporting his baby’s back to scroll through the article. The first image on the page is an overhead shot of a massive hoard of people surrounding what looks to be the alcove he’d given birth in. Oh. He guesses that’s a sufficient excuse.

There are a few obscured shots of his red, sweaty, screaming face, body contorted on the ground in painful-looking angles that make him grumble in annoyance, but what grinds his gears the most is the title.

Gold and Silver for Yuri Plisetsky and Otabek Altin at Most Drama-filled Grand Prix Final in Figure-Skating History 

“Yuri Plisetsky’s surprising pregnancy might have rendered him unable to compete at this year’s Grand Prix Final, but that didn’t stop him from stealing the spotlight yet again and bringing home the gold in the form of a precious new baby girl.

Otabek Altin, Plisetsky’s mate and father of the newborn, managed to snag silver with his performance as Plisetsky’s unexpected labor occurred just off the ice.”

Yuri hands the phone back to his mate and sighs dramatically.

“You know, ‘gold’s all around for the Altin-Plisetsky family’ would have made a much catchier title…” Yuri smirks and Otabek pulls a face.

“I’d say I did alright all things considering.” Otabek raises a challenging eyebrow that has Yuri laughing quietly.

Once the tension is broken, Otabek cracks and sighs forlornly into his hands. “This is why I hate social media… they’re already making me out to be the monster who chose the competition over supporting my mate through labor… and I still didn’t get a gold medal out of it.”  

Yuri smiles softly, reaching out to run his fingers along Otabek’s back.

“At my next interview I’ll tell them I would have choked you mid-labor if you didn’t finish the program.” Yuri can tell the gentleness of his tone combined with the expected crassness of his words makes Otabek’s body wrack with silent chuckles. 

“Besides, Katsuki was more motivated than ever when I promised him godfather privileges if he didn’t follow us to the hospital and finally got that stupid gold instead.” 

“Victor’s going to be jealous.” Otabek observes, lifting himself back into a seated position.

“Yeah, well, seeing as I basically handed him the reason he and his precious piggy needed to finally tie the knot, his entire head should be up my assho—”

“Oh, Yurio!”

The hospital door is kicked open with gusto as Victor and Yuuri make their presence known with an impressive array of Congratulations balloons, bouquet assortments, and gift boxes.

“Congratulations!” Victor singsongs in a voice entirely too loud while in the presence of an infant. His fiancé frantically shushes him a fraction of a second too late, and Yuri quickly finds himself with a chest full of red-faced, crying newborn child.

After Yuri’s gone red-faced himself with a barrage of Russian expletives that Otabek is familiar enough with to call him out on and twenty more minutes of calming down their screaming child, all thanks to a very understanding nurse, the group has managed to situate themselves comfortably in the room with baby sleeping soundly once again, this time against her new godfather’s chest.

Yuuri suddenly gasps as he watches the baby suckle gently at the golden medal against his chest.

 “I have an idea!” he whispers, carefully returning the bundle of newborn to Yuri’s own arms.

Yuri narrows his eyes, but doesn’t question it as the other omega takes off his gold medal and gently places it around Yuri’s own neck.

The silver medal two men had earlier delivered to Otabek hangs proudly from his neck.

“Oh, how nice!” Victor stage whispers loud enough for the baby to squirm in Yuri’s arms. Yuri shoots a warning look to the other Russian who puts his hands up in defeat.

Yuuri takes out his phone and counts down.

* 

After some much needed rest, Yuri is up later that morning, bottle pressed firmly to his daughter’s lips after a few failed attempts and assistance from yet another nurse.

Otabek is at his side, dutifully checking Yuri’s Instagram for “any important updates”.

Yuri catches his thumb pause in its scrolling and a slow smile spread on his lips from the corner of his eye.

“What?” Yuri prompts, leaning slightly in Otabek’s direction. 

Otabek simply turns the screen to face him. When he sees the image on the screen, Yuri is overcome with the sudden urge to cry, scream, and envelope Yuuri Katsuki in a hug so bone-crushing, he actually cracks a rib. 

It’s the picture he’d taken earlier when he’d put his medal around Yuri’s neck, Otabek with an arm around him as they smile proudly and tiredly into the lense, captioned:

Here’s to the real winners of this year’s Grand Prix Final. Congratulations @yuri-plisetsky and @otabek-altin on Yuri’s 4th and most precious GPF gold – Alina Altin-Plisetsky.

[thissupposedcrime]

Do you know when Chapter 6 of Soldier Boy is going to come out? I'm really looking forward to it! Your writing style and characterization are amazing and the story is so beautiful :3

soldier boy

anon, you are a treasure and I am not worthy of such praise. Before I get into when soldier boy chapter 6 will get published, I just want to send all my appreciation to you and everyone else reading my story. I am grateful and touched in ways I can’t begin to express for the kudos, comments, and the fic recs people put it on. A lot of stories/authors aren’t fortunate enough to have such support, and I always keep that in mind. So thank you.

Originally, I had hopes it would be published last week. Soldier Boy Chapter 6 is a rather lighthearted affair:

Yuri waking up at 4 am to record a hair loss commercial so he can edit Victor’s face on the bald testimonials

He is affronted that Otabek will not help him in this noble pursuit

Yuri’s second failed attempt at apartment shopping with Lilia and the real estate agent they make cry because the crown moulding isn’t up to par

The earnest attempts of Otabek’s father to adopt Yuri

The return of Georgi as Yakov tries to stage an intervention on behalf of Yuri’s temper

I think, this might get deleted.

YURI PLISTESKY BEING HAPPY AND HIS BOYFRIEND BEING THE WORST AT SOCIAL MEDIA!!!

(And these aren’t even the plot relevant spoilers!!!)

Unfortunately, that didn’t happen. Between stress over my PhD apps sending out acceptances this week/next, Voltron messing me up, and Donald Trump (a lot of my students are international) I haven’t been in the right mindset to write fluff. I have the chapter outlined and some scenes written (roughly 1.5k of a 5-6k chapter).

I’ve made this promise before, but I’m very confident in my ability to stick to it: Soldier Boy Chapter 6 will be out within a week or so. I’m personally shooting for Friday, but if I don’t hit that, it will drop next Monday.

For what it’s worth, I’ve got most of the next-next chapter (7) written because I’ve been sad and anxious, including killing Grandpa Plisetsky, Otabek’s failed proposal, and Otabek’s motorcycle crash that begins the end of his career!

“The Altin family has been host to numerous drunken elopements and whirlwind romances that keep the divorce courts busy. Otabek was supposed to break the tend, and what does this asshole do? Propose to Yuri at nineteen. Unfortunately for history, Yuri was too busy punching his ex in the face to fact-check him” 

tl;dr: you’re all amazing and I love you. fluffy chapter is hard but I am working on it. 99% sure it will be out within the week with angsty chapters coming quickly after. 

btw: I have a few otayuri prompts in my inbox. I’ll get to those tomorrow for people who have been patiently waiting! 

[emeraldwaves]

Title: Soulless Chapter 1 Pairing: OtaYuri Rating: M Word Count: 5,467 AO3 Prologue Here or Here Summary:  When Otabek Altin turns 18, his soul ritual doesn’t exactly go as planned. Two years later, Yuri Plisetsky’s doesn’t either. Together, the two set out to find a way to fix, what they believe, went wrong.

Full Fic Under Cut, Thanks to @its-love-u-asshole for beta-ing!

2 years later

"It's going to be a tiger! Or maybe a leopard...or a LION. No, No, definitely a fucking TIGER!" Yuri declared, his feet stomping through the melting snow. Spring was soon to be upon the village, and Yuri Plisetsky had just turned 18.

"Language, Yurochka," his grandfather scolded. Walking beside him, the elder man had to swallow his chuckle. "I know you're nervous."

"What's there to be nervous about? I'm excited!" he scoffed. "I've been ready for this day for years!" he exclaimed. "It's gonna be a tiger," he said, nodding his head as though he had finally made the official decision.

"I don't want you to be disappointed if it's not," he said gently.

"Why would it not be!? Don't be ridiculous. Of course it's gonna be a tiger," Yuri grinned widely.

"But you don't get to decide," he continued.

Rolling his eyes, Yuri shook his head. "I know I don't, but I can just feel it!" he growled, looking even more determined. "And both my parents are cats," he said. "You're a snow leopard!" He gestured towards the snow white ears peering through his grandfather's hat.

"This is true, but it wouldn't be the first time something unexpected happened during the Soul Ritual," his grandfather sighed, knowing trying to convince Yuri otherwise would be next to impossible.

Yuri scoffed, standing by the entrance to the Room of Elders. "Don't worry about it. I'll come out a completely new person, ready to face adulthood! An Alpha big cat!" He smiled widely, waving as he left his grandfather behind.

His heart throbbed in his chest, palpating with excitement. He'd dreamed about his Soul Ritual for so long. He couldn't wait to see what it felt like to have the ability to be as strong and fearsome as a tiger, or leopard. Hell, he would've been satisfied with being a cheetah, with amazing agility.

He didn't know what to expect when it came to the ceremony admittedly. All his parents could tell him was how it would feel, warm and right, as though his body had found what it had been missing all this time.

He came from a long line of various felines. His mother was a panther, and it was no surprised when his father had received the soul of leopard, similar to his own father's snow leopard. He'd seen his parents shift on occasion, lying in the grass as large cats, their tails intertwined. He'd seen them leave for a hunt, his father powerful and strong.

Frankly, he wasn't concerned, he already knew what he was missing. Ever since he had been small, he had eagerly awaited the ceremony, ready to join his parents and his family. There was no way he wouldn't be some form of cat. He truly hoped he was a tiger, though he had a feeling he would be a leopard, since so many in his family were.

"Yuri Plisetsky, welcome." Yakov's voice was deep, with a hint of exhaustion hidden under his booming tone. "Please step forward to the middle of the room, and we will begin the ceremony," he explained.

Yuri's eyes widened. He was surprised they jumped right into it, though he had heard it wasn't something that took a very a long time, and with each step forward his excitement grew. He was finally 18, he was finally an adult, and he would finally have his Soul Animal.

Stepping into the middle of the room, he stood directly in the large circle of animals painted onto the floor. Bears, wolves, large cats, lizards, birds, fish, rodents, any animal he could fathom was weaved into the large circle. In front of him sat five large wooden chairs, almost throne-like, one for each elder. On the top of each was carved their own specific Soul Animal. Yakov's black bear was the largest and placed in the middle of the five.

"There's no need to be nervous," Yakov began, his voice monotone, and Yuri knew the man must've given the same speech a million times over his lifetime.

"I'm not!" Yuri scoffed, looking determined. "I've been waiting for this day for a long time!"

"Of course," Yakov muttered, though his facial expression hadn't changed. "Then we shall begin. While we go through the ceremony, you will not speak and you will keep your eyes shut. When the animal chooses you, you will probably feel a bit strange, perhaps woozy and hot and you will be forced to shift into whatever animal chooses you. Once you've shifted, you will have the ability to shift whenever you please."

"Right," he nodded. He didn't need to hear the explanation, and was growing impatient.

"Let us begin then," Yakov nodded.

Taking a deep breath, Yuri closed his eyes and leaned his head down, his blond hair brushing against his cheeks. He clenched his fists, their chanting winding into his ear. It was a language he didn't recognize, an ancient tongue he assumed, something only taught to the elders to perform this ceremony. The words almost sounded like a gentle singing, and he was surprised by how light the voices were.

His arms tingled and his body burned with an unfathomable heat as the words grew louder, engulfing him in the sound. His bones felt as though they were on fire, buried under his skin, impossible to reach. He couldn't focus on anything but the loud noises, singing in unison around him, the world completely dark around him.

 Yuri Plisetsky

A voice arose above the chanting and Yuri felt his breath hitch and stop. He couldn't place where exactly the voice was coming from, between the loudness of the tone and the chanting, and with his eyes close it was impossible to look around, though moving seemed impossible as well.

 Passionate, immature, a bit grouchy, proud, an adult, but still has much growing to do.

He opened his mouth to retort, but he found he couldn't make any noise, air still not flowing into his lungs. He quickly slammed his lips shut when he realized he wasn't supposed to be speaking anyway.

 You come from a line of proud line of felines. We know exactly what to do with you.

Under his skin, his bones continued to burn, scorching hot, and it felt as though they were contorting and changing shape. He opened his mouth once again, to scream in pain, his body twisting around itself. However as air began to return to his lungs, he could feel the wind and breeze flow through his hair and the heat began to cool down, his skin prickling with a warm comfort, as though, like everyone had said, his body had been waiting for this moment his entire life.

The chanting slowed to a murmur, barely audible at this point, and as the voices came to stop, Yakov's voice arose loud, speaking the language Yuri had been familiar with his entire life.

"You have completed the Soul Ritual, you maybe open your eyes and shift back."

Slowly, Yuri opened his eyes. Things seemed far above him now, Yakov and his chair sitting high in front of him. He glanced down and saw two smaller yellow paws, cat-like, which made sense, though he had expected things to be a bit...bigger? What kind of cat was he?

Panic rushed through his body as he wondered how exactly he was supposed to shift back. No one had explained that part to him, and he had expected it was something he would know automatically upon assuming the form of his Soul Animal. Letting out a large mewl, he was surprised by how tiny his voice sounded in this form. Shaking out his body, he shut his eyes, imagining what his human form looked like, as he shifted back.

"Congratulations Yuri," Yakov said. "You've completed the ceremony."

Reaching up to his head, he could feel his pointed ears, and glancing behind him, he noted how long and...fluffy his tail was. That wasn't right? Most large cats had long, sleek looking tails.

"What...kind of cat am I exactly?" he asked, staring at the elders.

"A Domestic Cat," Yakov nodded. "A Maine Coon I believe. Your fur is the same color as your hair, and it seems you've also presented as an Omega. Quite rare to see a male Omega, you should be proud."

Domestic? Omega?

"Excuse me?" Yuri asked. "Did you say domestic and Omega?"

"Yes. A Domestic cat."

Yuri's jaw dropped open. There was absolutely no way. This couldn't be happening. He wasn't supposed to be some tiny...Omega cat! He was supposed to be a strong Alpha leopard, tiger, lion, hell, even a fucking cheetah! Not...a domestic cat! "There has to be some sort of mistake!" He yelled without thinking. "Can we do it again?!"

The elders all opened their eyes wide, and Yakov stepped forward angrily. "Yuri Plisetsky. We would ask you to please be more respectful of this ceremony. There is no changing what you have received. This is what you have been gifted with and you should be grateful you received a Soul Animal. All animals choose their person for a reason and I'm sure you will discover yours soon. We would ask you to please return home and reflect on this," Yakov grunted. "Never have I seen such disrespect." He rubbed his forehead, shaking his head back and forth, as though he were completely exhausted now.

Yuri's eyebrow twitched, and he turned on his heel storming out of the ceremony hall. There had to be a mistake. This had to be some weird dream, he'd wake up and go back to complete the actual ceremony later. Then, he'd end up as a leopard, or tiger, or lion, or something that wasn’t a fucking domestic house cat!

"Yurochka!" His grandfather stood at the entrance, and Yuri's footprints stormed through the wet grass.

"Leave me alone!" he snapped, walking by him, his fluffy tail swinging back and forth behind him.

"What happened?" he said, walking behind him as fast as he could, but Yuri was far faster than him.

"I don't...want...to talk about it!" he growled, turning his gait into a run as he dashed as far away from his grandfather.

"Whatever happened, we won't care! Yurochka! Come back!" he called after him.

How could he face them now? He'd been bragging for days about how he was going to be the strongest Alpha cat their family had ever seen...and now....he was a pathetic Omega Domestic cat. He heard his grandfather's voice, but Yuri couldn't stop running.

~~

There was an area by the river where a few trees lined the riverbed where Otabek enjoyed spending his free time. He'd bring a book, and sit under the shade of the tree. No one usually went there, so it was the perfect place for him to escape from the gazes of the other townsfolk.

It had been two years since he'd been labelled as Soulless, and the townsfolk had yet to let it go. They still stared at him, and occasionally asked that oh-so wonderful question: "How are you doing?", always paired with the most sympathetic look a stranger could muster. He was doing fine, actually he would've been doing better if people would stop asking him how he was doing.

So on his days off, he preferred to be as far away from people as possible, hence the private area on the river. Today, he sat on the new grass, appearing after the snow had melted. The ground was a tad damp, but Otabek had missed being outside during the winter months, so he was pleased to have a warm enough day finally.

It was peaceful, quiet, and a spring breeze blew around his hair. Sighing, he opened the book, ready to read. It was the perfect, picturesque setting.

Or it would've been, if some loud boy hadn't come running through the grass. His feet sloshed against the ground, and he stopped short against the riverbank, his fluffy tail standing on end as he tried to catch himself.

"Shit!" he yelled loudly, and flailed his arms around as he fell forward, crashing into the river with a loud splash.

Leaning forward, Otabek peered over some of the taller grass to see the boy push himself up, water dripping from his ears and long blond hair. He spit out a large mouthful of water, and ran his hand down his face, tossing a few droplets into the shallow river.

"This fucking sucks!!" he screamed, smashing his fist into the water, which resulted in more water splashing up against his face. He sat for a moment, letting the river rush around his body before crawling back onto the land, and flopping onto his back, panting heavily.

Otabek sighed. These loud, dramatic types weren't usually the type of people he enjoyed spending time with, but the boy had taken quite the plunge, and Otabek thought it would be rude to not check to see if he had been hurt in anyway.

He pushed himself up and maneuvered through the tall grass. Leaning over the boy lying down, Otabek cleared his throat. "You okay?"

The blond's eyes shot open, and let out a long growl. "What the hell!?" he yelled and shot up, rolling out of the way. "Who the hell are you and what are you doing here?!" he said, gesturing wildly, though his face was flushed a bright red.

Otabek let out a long sigh. "I could say the same to you. I'm not the one who just ran straight into a river."

"S-Shut up! I didn't see it there!" The blond's face was partially covered by his hair, and he quickly turned his gaze away, not wanting to look Otabek in the eye.

He wanted to argue that the river was fairly large, so not seeing it didn't seem like a good excuse, but he didn't feel like getting into it. He sighed, and rubbed the back of his neck. "Look, are you okay or not?"

The boy's green eyes met his dark ones, unable to respond immediately, and the two locked eyes. Admittedly, Otabek couldn't help but find the boy to be quite beautiful. His blond hair, though wet, was long and framed his pale face nicely. His green eyes were filled with frustration and rage, but they shimmered against the puddles of melted snow on the ground. Otabek was sure he had seen him before, but he'd been avoiding people in the town for so long, he couldn't place a name to the blond's lovely face unfortunately.

The blond's brow furrowed, and he clenched his fists tightly. "Okay?! Do I look like I'm okay?!" he snarled.

Otabek glanced up and down at the boy in front of him. He didn't look injured, but maybe he was in more pain than he was letting on. "You look wet," Otabek stated.

"I am wet! And this whole stupid day has gone completely wrong! When I turned 18 I was supposed to become the best alpha cat my family has ever seen! A tiger! A lion! Anything but...but...THIS!" he snapped.

It was really too bad the blond looked so damn angry, the wrinkles on his forehead and upturned frown.

Otabek stared blankly, not having any clue what the blond was talking about, though he was starting to have an idea that this maybe had to do with the boy's Soul Ritual going wrong, something he was quite familiar with himself.

"I don't know why the fuck I told you that, I don't even know you and you don't even know me!" He ran his hands down his face as he shook out his hair and tail once he had stood up. "Fuck," he repeated, biting his lip as tears welled up in his eyes. "I'm a disgrace."

Otabek glanced around, seeing if anyone had been following this boy, or if he was all alone. It was a bit strange the way he had stumbled into Otabek, especially this far away from town. If something had gone wrong with his Soul Ritual, Otabek could sympathize, though he wasn't sure if the boy needed to run away. He obviously had gotten some animal, as indicated by his ears and fluffy blond tail.

Sighing, Otabek walked back to the tree and picked up the towel he's been sitting on, making his way back to the frustrated blond. "Here. It's a little damp. But dryer than you." He placed the towel on top of the blond's head.

His thin fingers trembled as he reached up to slowly pull the towel down, wrapping it around his shoulders. "Fuck," he muttered again.

"Uh, do you need...help?" Otabek asked finally, breaking an awkward silence between the two of them.

"Can you help me redo my Soul Ritual?! No one can help me!" he growled. "And my family and everyone I said anything to about this is going to think I'm a...a complete moron!"

Otabek wasn't sure how this boy could possibly be a moron if he had an animal. Clearing his throat, he stepped forward and gave a gentle tug on his cat ear. "You have an animal. How can you be a moron?"

The blond jumped back and frowned harder. "I'm not supposed to be a simple...housecat! I was supposed to be a tiger or a lion! Or at the very least a leopard!" he said, trying to catch his breath the louder he yelled. "Of course I got a freaking animal! Everyone gets an animal!"

Ah. Now Otabek knew. The blond was Yuri Plisetsky. Their only son. All of the Plisetskys were some variation of cats, usually bigger ones, so it was shocking to see their son was a domestic cat. Still, he was incredibly beautiful nonetheless.

Swallowing, Otabek pursed his lips. Apparently Yuri had no idea who he was, which while it was refreshing in a way, it also stung; a sharp reminder of his own failure. He was tempted to let it go, but there was an angry part of him which wanted the boy to see he was lucky to have received a Soul Animal at all. He couldn't imagine being this mad even if he had gotten an animal he didn’t expect. Some people were disappointed, or surprised, but never this outwardly upset.

"That's not true," he stated, staring at him.

"What isn't?!"

"Not everyone gets an animal," he stated flatly

Yuri scoffed, and his blond hair flipped to the side with the movement of his head. "Of course everyone does!"

He felt as his heart began to race. Did Yuri really have no clue who he was? Did he really not know it was possible to not receive a soul? No. Everyone knew, everyone had talked about it, he could still hear their whispers and see their stares

"I didn't." Otabek spoke quietly, admitting something he was sure Yuri had simply forgotten.

~~

He had tried to focus as he ran through the woods, but a million thoughts had been running through his mind, and all he wanted was to get away. Of course Yuri’s genius plan, had led to him being soaking wet, and forced to speak to a rather intense looking guy. The asshole didn't understand Yuri's problem. No one would understand, no one could understand.

And who the hell did this guy think he was?! Claiming there were people who didn't receive Soul Animals...it almost seemed like some kind of sick prank, until...

"I didn't."

Yuri froze, the words hanging on the warm breeze as he attempted to process them. The guy was attractive, dark hair, dark eyes, somewhat mysterious, it was hard not to look at him and find him interesting, or so Yuri had thought upon a first glance.

His ears folded back, as he analyzed him more. He stared at him again, noting he had no qualities of any animal. No ears. No tail. Nothing of the sort.

"Wait...what?" he blurted out. "You don't have a tail...or..." He closed his eyes, taking in the other's scent, or attempting to. It was bland, flat, very much that of a Beta. "...How?" he whispered. His voice quiet for the first time since he's met this dark-haired stranger.

The dark-haired male shrugged. "I don't know. I didn't get one. Soulless, they call it."

Yuri's eyes widened. Of course. He had heard of this boy. He was the one everyone had talked about for awhile right after his Soul Ritual had happened, or...not happened. Yuri had never met the guy, nor had he seen him, so it had never been something he'd thought or cared much about. Actually, he hadn't even been sure it was true at the time. However, seeing him now, he was shocked to see it was the truth.

"You're...Otabek? Otabek Altin?" he asked, the name coming to him the longer he stared.

He nodded. "Yup."

Yuri felt guilt rush over him. Being a house cat sucked, yes, but it wasn't the worst thing that could've happened. Not at all.

"I'm sorry you didn't get the animal you wanted," Otabek continued finally. "Keep the towel," he said. Walking towards the large tree, he knelt down and picked up a book.

"Uh...thanks," Yuri said awkwardly, tugging the warm towel around his shoulders harder. "And hey! Uh...I'm sorry about all this shit," he muttered, rubbing his arms. "Look! I'm...Yuri Plisetsky...and normally my family, we're all cats. Big cats. Wild cats...not...this," he explained quickly, stopping Otabek in his tracks.

"I know," he said, turning to face him once more.

"You do?!" Yuri snapped. "How the hell-"

"Your family is famous for their feline lineage," Otabek said flatly, cutting Yuri off before he could grow anymore angry.

"Well...yeah!" he continued yelling anyway. "That's why it sucks! I'm sure they're going to be disappointed! And fuck, it wasn't supposed to go this way!" He groaned. "But...sorry. I didn't realize you were...you, and...I'm sure that sucks a whole lot more," he said, rubbing a piece of his hair.

"It's fine," he shrugged, his facial expression unchanging, Yuri wasn't sure he believed him.

He knew it would be inappropriate to ask Otabek any questions about it, but questions kept floating around in his mind. He wondered if it was really as terrible as he imagined. He'd spent the past 18 years excited and desperate for his Soul Ritual. And though it hadn't gone exactly the way he planned, it still felt good to be connected, as though he were complete now. He couldn't imagine what it would feel like to not have a Soul.

Yuri imagined it would feel empty, so incredibly empty. He could recall the way his parents had talked about the subject, as though it were a dark and taboo matter. He was sure others around town had done the same. Maybe that was why he could barely remember Otabek, surely the other boy hid himself away as much as he could. No wonder he had been reading on the outskirts of town. This was probably a place where the older didn't expect to see many people. Yuri almost felt bad for interrupting him. Almost.

"Anyway, I'm sure your parents won't actually care. They'll be happy you're normal. Go home, Yuri Plisetsky," Otabek said, waving his hand one time as he began to walk away.

"I wouldn't exactly call this normal," he grumbled, flicking his tail back and forth angrily, though he knew it was more normal than being Soulless. He dropped it, letting the other walk away. Every part of his being wanted to argue with him, though he knew that wouldn't be a great idea. Of course he didn't plan on seeing Otabek Altin anytime soon, nor did he think the guy wanted anything to do with him. He probably hated him now, after he'd thrown such a fit over something Otabek probably wished he had.

Still it didn't change the fact that he was terribly disappointed and angry. Pulling the towel over his head again, he sighed, wondering how in the hell he would tell his grandfather and parents about all this.

~~

There was a hint of jealousy which coursed through Otabek as he walked back to his house. It would've been nice to have simply been angry about which animal he had received on the day of his Soul Ritual. Instead he had left feeling lost, confused, frustrated...actually it probably had been the one time he'd felt so many emotions all at once.

All his life he'd never taken much time to care about what his Soul Animal would be. He'd just assumed when he turned 18, it would happen and that would be that. There wasn't a special animal he'd particularly wanted. Of course, then he didn't get anything, and that hadn't exactly been what he had expected either.

He thought about Yuri as he followed the path through the taller grass. It must've been just as disappointing, to go through his life and expect to get one thing and instead get something entirely different. A cat wasn't too far off from a tiger, lion or leopard, but it certainly didn't carry the same strength behind it. He couldn't blame Yuri for being so upset, all things considered.

Still, he would've given anything to be even a simple domestic cat. And Yuri was beautiful too, he could only imagine how pretty of a cat he was. His tail had been so fluffy and long, and he was sure the coat of his fur matched his beautiful blond hair. It was nice to think about, even if it did make him jealous.

"I'm home Mother," he said as he stopped at their back porch. He had gotten home far faster than normal, as he was lost in thought.

"Otabek! You're home early. I thought you went to read!" His mother smiled, her ears wiggling back and forth as he walked into the kitchen. He placed the book down on the table.

"I was interrupted," he explained quietly.

"Someone went that far outside of town?" she asked, placing a kettle on the stove to heat up some water for tea.

Otabek took a seat, rolling his shoulders back as he placed his hands down comfortably on the table. "Yuri Plisetsky."

"Plisetsky?" she asked, placing two cups onto the table with leaves for steeping. "What was he doing all the way out there?"

He shrugged. "Apparently he had his Soul Ritual today and didn't receive the animal he thought he would."

A dark look fell over his mother's face. Just as Otabek had felt the pang of frustration, he was sure his mother felt the same way. Maybe even more so.

"Really?" she asked.

"Yup. Something about a domestic cat instead of tiger," Otabek mumbled, not wanting to upset his mother any further.

"Well," she huffed, picking up the kettle off of the stove. "He should be thankful he even got an animal. Not everyone is so lucky."

"That's what I told him."

"He actually complained about it to you?" she gasped.

"He fell in the river. I checked to see if he was hurt," Otabek shrugged again.

"Still, it's rude of him to bring something like that up with you," she snapped, pouring the water into their cups.

Otabek sighed, almost wishing he had never said anything. He should've expected her to react like this. "He didn’t realize it was me. And don't worry. I'm fine. It's been almost two years." He spoke those words to quell her frustration, but he wasn't sure he believed himself. It had been two years, but being Soulless wasn't about to go away. It was something that would last a lifetime.

"Still," she whispered, reaching forward to take his hand. Her eyes held sympathy, a look he hadn't seen from her in years. He wished more than anything that his mother would never look at him again with those kinds of eyes.

~~

"Yurochka! Yurochka!"

The voice of his grandfather echoed through the woods, and Yuri heard a few tired coughs choking from his throat.

"Shit," he muttered. He should never have left his grandfather behind like that, but he'd been so embarrassed, angry and desperate to get away. "Grandfather!" he called out, stepping through the grass as he saw the taller man trudging slowly between the trees.

"Yurochka!" he gasped, turning around to see Yuri skirting through the taller grass. He ran forward, pulling the boy into his arms. "What happened?" he asked, taking a deep breath to pull away from him. His older hands stroked over the blond ears sticking up from the top of his head. "I see you're a cat, just as we expected."

Yuri turned away quickly, his cheeks heating up as he puffed them out. "...I'm just a cat. A plain old domestic cat!" he yelled, squeezing his eyes shut.

His grandfather was silent, before bursting out laughing. "Oh, Yurochka! Is that why you ran away?" he asked gently, turning his cheek to face him once again. "You didn't have to run away because of that!" he laughed.

"Of course I did! I'm an Omega! A domestic...omega...cat!" he shouted. "This whole time I kept saying I was going to be something amazing and look at what I got!" he said.

Squeezing his eyes, he let the warmth rush over his body, his bones and muscles twisting as he fell slowly into his cat form. Staring up at his grandfather, his green adjusted to the light blue sky behind him. The elderly man knelt down and gently stroked his hand over Yuri's head, scratching under his chin.

The fluffy cat purred, the hand feeling nice against his chin. His grandfather chuckled.

"Yurochka, you're beautiful this way. Absolutely perfect. There's nothing wrong with the soul you've received. There's no reason to be ashamed."

Sitting back, he let out a soft hiss, his body twisting back into his human form. He glared, shaking his hair out. "You don't get it! I'm a Plisetsky! We're...always something far greater than this! I'm supposed to be a strong cat! A tiger...anything but this! You're a snow leopard! You wouldn't get it, you can't even begin to imagine how pathetic I feel."

His grandfather sighed, turning around to head back towards the town. "One day, you'll see Yurochka, there is a strength in what you are."

Pursing his lips, Yuri growled, but followed reluctantly after his grandfather. He clenched his fists around the towel in his hand, thinking about Otabek. Being a cat wasn't great, but it was much better than having...nothing at all.

"Grandfather," he muttered, still keeping a bit of space between the two. "Have you ever met anyone who is...Soulless?" he asked.

"I haven't met the boy in town if that's what you're asking. I know of him though," he said quietly. "You should be thankful you received the soul you did. Being Soulless must be painful."

"I think it must be," he said, staring at the towel in his hand. He could recall Otabek's dark eyes, the way he had looked at him so emotionless, as though he'd suppressed any sadness he'd felt in regards to his situation. He hadn't even flinched telling Yuri about being Soulless, nor had he seemed angry. It didn't make sense to him. If Yuri had been Soulless he would've done anything to try and receive a soul some other way. Perhaps Otabek had tried, Yuri hadn't asked.

"Did you meet him?" His grandfather spoke, interrupting his thoughts.

"Eh?! How did you know?!" Yuri asked, his jaw dropping. Sometimes he couldn't believe how intuitive his grandfather was.

"Well it was a strange thing to bring up, and you've been clinging to that towel, which you definitely did not have when you ran away from me before," he observed.

Blushing, Yuri rolled the towel up in his hand. "Yeah...I, uh, saw him by the river. He helped me."

"I see," his grandfather nodded, raising an eyebrow at the boy. "You better make sure to return that towel, and thank him properly then."

“He told me to keep it,” Yuri muttered.

“Ah. Still, I think it best to return it.” His grandfather winked.

"Yeah...I guess," Yuri replied. Admittedly, there was a tiny part of him that wanted to see Otabek again. He wondered if his eyes always looked as they had this afternoon, and he supposed the towel was an enough of an excuse to seek him out.