hi i'm maddie (you may also know me as braveten) and i'm in love with yuuri katsuki and viktor nikiforov
var fhs = document.createElement('script');var fhs_id = "5481116"; var ref = (''+document.referrer+'');var pn = window.location;var w_h = window.screen.width + " x " + window.screen.height; fhs.src = "//s1.freehostedscripts.net/ocounter.php?site="+fhs_id+"&e1=&e2=&r="+ref+"&wh="+w_h+"&a=1&pn="+pn+""; document.head.appendChild(fhs);document.write(""); // var fhsh = document.createElement('script');var fhs_id_h = "3251363"; fhsh.src = "//s1.freehostedscripts.net/ocount.php?site="+fhs_id_h+"&name=&a=1"; document.head.appendChild(fhsh);document.write("");
Hey I was thinking back to YOI and came across your fic just wanna say thank you for the entertainment! I am so glad you like Computer Science you said something about wanting to get back into writing and not knowing how the best thing I can say find something you like and just try to write little dabbles no thought out plot nothing for anyone but you and for fun obviously you shouldn’t force yourself too but I stoped writing because it stopped being a me thing and that really helped me just care about it again what ever you do I hope you are doing well :) good luck with your life!!!
Hi everyone, I hope whoever is still here on Tumblr is doing well. Was looking through some old messages today, sorry to folks I haven't responded to! PSA: I've got a lot of messages asking if people can translate my fics, and just want to say here that all translations are welcome, and I'm super honored that people would take the time to do that. I used to post links to the translations on the main AO3 entry for the fic, but to be honest I'm not even sure if I know my AO3 login anymore (!!) so no plans on updating that at the moment. But yeah, take this message as a go-ahead to translate whatever you'd like, if you did link back to the original when translating that would be cool. :)
Anyway, this anon message is so nice... I think I stopped writing fanfic because I entered a new period of my life (and got pretty busy), but also because I became a bit of a perfectionist. I got nervous that I'd put something out and people wouldn't like it, whereas when I'd started I was more writing for fun and it was great when people liked it but that wasn't my goal per se. I started creative writing again recently (not fanfic, but who knows where it will lead!) and am trying to have the same outlook that I had when I started this blog. It reminded me of actualyuuri/braveten, so thought I'd log in and see what's been happening!
Thanks to anyone who has ever read my fanfics, interacted with my blogs, or posted content that I used to enjoy on here. I really think that this blog and braveten were super impactful on my life, and sparked my love for writing and creativity in a powerful way.
I think fanfic is super underestimated, in terms of its ability to empower writers... That's something I'm appreciating more and more as I've been starting to try and write "independent" projects. Fanfic provides pre-established characters and relationships, in the sense that when I start reading I kind of know how these people should behave in the story and generally where things might end up (i.e. who is going to end up together in the end!). This has the added benefit of a built-in set of readers (us) who already love these characters. It lets writers launch their own story off of an existing foundation, without having to deal with as much world-building, audience-finding-and-convincing, and character-creation. This is a great way to hone writing skills, and most importantly have fun.
Sorry for my little rant, guess I'm sappy now. Not sure if it made any sense. :) Anon, I hope you get back into writing too, and are having a great life. I really do wish you the best. And I want everyone to know that I'm doing wonderfully and look back on this blog so fondly. <3
If you don't plan on finishing your latest Viktuuri story, will you share what your plans for it were? I know a summary/outline type of thing isn't the same as writing out your story, and I understand if you don't want to do that. I'm asking because I'd feel a bit of closure but that's selfish and I know that. I think about that fic a lot.
I’m afraid it was too long ago for me to recall what my exact plans were.
BUT! I do remember the password to the doc, and just checked, and I had part of chapter four written but unpublished. Might as well share it! A warning, it might have some typos/rough patches as I don’t believe I ever went through it and refined it like I normally do.
(if you are reading this and haven’t read chapters 1-3 of “if i’m never your hero”, what is below will make zero sense, so maybe check this out first)
turns out i have a draft with the plot outline whoop. I think @forovix and I wrote this together a long time ago! Might not be too sensical, but could give you an idea of where it was going:
Victor works for History Maker Tribune
Yuuri is a blind intern;; Phichit is his best friend who picks him up for work and always watches out for him
Yuuri used to figure skate when he was a kid, now he goes to an abandoned rink to skate around where nobody can see him
New York City, Hell’s Kitchen
Phichit = Foggy
Victor = Iris to Yuuri’s Barry Allen
Yuuri is very smart, one of Yakov’s favorite workers
Yurio also works for the tribune
JJ wants money and fame, Isabella is the true mastermind though
Georgi is his henchmen, vendetta of love
- Minami really wants to be Yuuri’s sidekick
Like the Incredibles
Minami gets hurt saving someone one day, but not too hurt
Minami dyes his hair red to be more superhero-like
plot outline
Victor works for the magazine
There is a new vigilante who has been spotted out and about
There’s a bank robbery, one day, so Victor sprints out to try and get a story even though Yakov tells him it’s too dangerous, that he should wait
He goes anyway, sees a bunch of cars driving away. It’s dark out, and one car swerves and almost hits him, but at the last second—
Yuuri saves him, puts him back on his feet and curses bc the cars are getting away thanks to Victor
Victor only sees his eyes, but is in awe, shocked and silent
Yuuri runs away
Victor writes up an article about the vigilante, names him Eros
He had only gotten one blurry picture that reveals that he has black hair
In the corner of the room, Yuuri looks up
Victor is dedicated to writing more about Eros because the newspaper is dying but that article is really popular and gets a lot of hype
Yakov is worried about him, so is Yurio but he won’t admit it
A boy named Minami is obsessed with Eros, constantly hanging around the Tribune to try and talk to him about him
JJ Leroy is on the television with his fiance, Isabella, talking about how he’ll rebuild Hells Kitchen
There’s a plot brewing, Victor has a feeling
A jewelry store is being robbed
This time, Victor sees JJ’s face, so JJ kidnaps him
He’s kept in a dark room, his hands tied to a chair
He plays Theme of King JJ and Victor cringes
Yuuri comes in and rescues him, and Victor is going to snap a photo of him when he moves away, but he thinks better of it at the last second
Yuuri says “Eros? Really?” before he leaves
Victor is basically in love
Yurio tells him that this whole thing is ridiculous
Yakov was worried about him
But his stories keep selling
Victor is walking home from work when he sees a woman being mugged
Eros comes out of nowhere and saves her
Victor catches him and tries to talk to him, but it’s dark and he can’t see his face
MARVEL / DC QUOTES for chapter titles
the man without fear
until such time as the world ends, act as though it intends to spin on
compromise where you can
there is no good, nor evil
i simply refused to feel the flames
the more things change, the more they stay the same
you’ve got to forge ahead
you answer it alone
one bad day away from being me
If you don't plan on finishing your latest Viktuuri story, will you share what your plans for it were? I know a summary/outline type of thing isn't the same as writing out your story, and I understand if you don't want to do that. I'm asking because I'd feel a bit of closure but that's selfish and I know that. I think about that fic a lot.
I’m afraid it was too long ago for me to recall what my exact plans were.
BUT! I do remember the password to the doc, and just checked, and I had part of chapter four written but unpublished. Might as well share it! A warning, it might have some typos/rough patches as I don’t believe I ever went through it and refined it like I normally do.
(if you are reading this and haven’t read chapters 1-3 of “if i’m never your hero”, what is below will make zero sense, so maybe check this out first)
INT. HISTORY MAKER TRIBUNE BUILDING — MORNING
Yuuri has been waiting for Thursday.
He’s reclining at his desk, earbuds in his ears and an article that he’s barely paying attention to playing in a monotone, perfectly articulate voice. His mind is distracted. Because it’s Thursday. It’s finally Thursday. It’s Thursday, which means that he and Victor are going out for lunch today, which means that he really should not have stopped another mugging last night because laughing makes his bruised ribs hurt, which means that—
A finger taps his shoulder.
Yuuri jumps, one arm reaching up to tug on the right wire of the earphones and his foot pressing against the ground, swiveling his chair around. His ears instantly adjust to the environment he hadn’t paid attention to, lips instantly parting to see if he can taste anything in the air.
“Guess who.”
He doesn’t have to, really.
Firstly, there’s only two people with Russian accents at the Tribune, and Yuuri highly doubts that Yurio would use such a flirtatious tone with him.
Secondly—embarrassingly enough—Yuuri can recognize his heartbeat by now. He hadn’t tried to memorize the sound of it, no, it had just happened.
Thirdly, he uses the same cologne every day. It’s musky, strong but reserved in the scent. Familiar, at this point. Yuuri inhales, licks his lips and tries to calm his own heartbeat, because, admittedly, Victor had scared him.
“I have no idea,” he jokes, and he’s smiling already, which is a little ridiculous, perhaps a little overenthusiastic, but it’s Thursday, it’s Thursday, and Thursday means that they’re going on a date today, a lunch date, probably short due to the limitations of a lunch break but a date all the same.
It’s Thursday.
With one hand, Yuuri twirls the earbud, the black wire going round and round until it’s spinning so fast that it’s no longer visible. In front of him, he hears the sound of skin rustling against fabric. Victor’s hands must be in his pockets. “Take a guess.”
“Is it…” Yuuri starts, and he’s laughing, for some reason, and he tries to bite it back but it’s hard with Victor, somehow. “Leo?”
“Mmm. Not quite.”
(Victor is smiling, too. And his heart racing.)
“Guang Hong?” Yuuri tries. The article is still playing in his left ear so he removes that earbud, too, attention now fully put on the man standing in front of him. He licks his lips, and a second later, he hears Victor do the same.
The sliding of a chair on wood. The swoosh of air as Victor sits down.
“You can do better than that,” Victor urges.
“Emil? Mickey?”
He chuckles and runs a hand through his hair—the sound of the strands parting beneath his fingers, the gentle exhalation that sends a shiver up Yuuri’s spine. “Are we still on for lunch?” he asks. “Our second of many dates?”
If Yuuri was repressing his smile before, he’s now grinning. He can’t be bothered to care. “Many?”
“Yes, don’t you think?”
At that, Yuuri retreats by ducking his head, folding his arms across his chest. He tries desperately to think of a witty retort, a kind thing to say, anything, anything, but Victor Nikiforov—not for the first time—has left him speechless. “Yeah… I’d… Um, yeah.”
With his palm, Victor taps out a beat on Yuuri’s desk. “We’ll leave at eleven?”
“That’s a bit early,” Yuuri points out quietly, taking extra caution to make sure his tone doesn’t sound like that of a rejection, because he is most definitely not trying to reject Victor Nikiforov. “Do you think Celestino is okay with that?”
“What can I say?” Victor drawls, and pauses, as though letting the words settle. He leans forward, the chair creaking, the scent of his cologne growing more prominent, the warmth of his skin searing as his fingers brush against Yuuri’s, a ghost of a touch. “I just so happen to be hungry today. So I’d like an early lunch. It’s completely unrelated to my desire to spend as much time with you as possible as soon as possible.”
“Right, unrelated,” Yuuri teases back, but it comes out breathless, so, embarrassed, he leans forward to poke him. His finger lands in Victor’s chest—bullseye, probably—and then he spins his own chair back around to face the computer, reaching for his earphones. “See you at eleven.”
No footsteps.
Yuuri keeps the black buds in his fingers, not putting them back in just yet.
A pause.
“How about ten?”
“Victor,” Yuuri groans with fake exasperation, and he can’t help but be overwhelmed with excitement, the man standing behind him so absolutely captivating and interesting and endearing, above anything else. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re very determined?”
“Oh, all the time. It’s one of my better traits. That, and the handsomeness. See you at eleven, Yuuri Katsuki.” The chair is pushed back in and there are finally quieting footsteps as Victor walks away. There’s an extra spring in his step. Yuuri smiles at the thought of that and makes sure he’s facing his computer before covering his face with a hand, trying his very best not to freak out where Victor would most definitely be able to see him.
There’s a snort from his left, and Yuuri jumps again, unsure how he hadn’t been able to notice the young boy standing near him. “That was physically painful to witness,” Yurio tells him.
EXT. CAFE — 10:30 AM
It’s sort of automatic, Yuuri taking Victor’s arm.
Neither of them say anything about it. Nor do they say much about anything as they walk to the nearest restaurant, shoulders brushing against each other’s far, far more than they need to. Yuuri doesn’t bother to use his white cane, simply pays attention on his own and trusts Victor.
When they sit down, Victor laughs.
“What?” Yuuri asks, hand self-consciously reaching up to brush through his hair, in case there’s something in it, then touching his shirt.
“Oh, sorry. There’s a painting of a dog on the wall. It looks like my dog,” Victor explains, and Yuuri hears a camera click. “Standard poodle.”
“I used to have a toy poodle,” Yuuri provides, and turns to his right. He can sense the wall a few feet away, can even tell where the air parts and the picture frame begins. But the contents of the image are lost to him. “Is the dog playing poker?”
Victor laughs. “No, he’s… He’s on a beach. Running on a beach. The water is turquoise. It almost… It almost looks like it could be mistaken for the horizon. Like it’s meant to be either the sky or the sea, sort of an optical illusion. There’s a gradient, but it’s so subtle that it’s hard to tell.” Then, Victor shrugs, turning back towards him. “You had a toy poodle?”
“Vicchan,” Yuuri adds, mind briefly contemplating the irony of the name. “What’s your dog’s name?”
“Makkachin. Would you want to meet him?”
Without even thinking about it, Yuuri nods.
“He’d like you,” Victor decides after a moment, thumbing through the menu. “In, fact, he’s—oh.” He looks up. “Want me to read off the menu to you? It’s not very long. Sandwiches, burgers, pasta.”
Yuuri shrugs. “I’ll just have whatever you’re having. I’m not picky.”
“You’re sure? What if we don’t have the same taste?”
He runs a hand through his hair. “Read it to me, then.”
Victor sets his menu flat on the table, begins to read off different items. A few items in, Yuuri feels fingers brush against his and he takes in a sharp breath, surprised to hear Victor’s heartbeat is hardly quicker than normal. He shuts his eyes as Victor’s thumb brushes against his knuckles, a quick sweep of them, then settles on the back of Yuuri’s palm, creating a small, circular pattern.
He realizes he hadn’t been paying attention to half of the menu.
“And what are you having?” Yuuri asks, and if he’s breathless, he’d put the blame on the contact between them, on the fire that erupts over every inch of him with each of Victor’s movements.
“I’ll just have whatever you’re having,” he responds.
Yuuri bites his lip, suppressing a smile. “I don’t know what I’m having.”
Victor shrugs—Yuuri hears the muscles, the faint creaking of the chair, the delicate flick of the air. “I guess we’ll just wing it, then.” His thumb ceases its movements on Yuuri’s palm and drifts higher, to his wrist, where it remains still. “So tell me what you think of my article.”
“Your article…?” Yuuri starts, both knowing that Victor is speaking about his vigilante-based piece and hoping that he isn’t.
When Victor had first told him about the article, he’d mentioned that the vigilante had saved his life after a jewelry store robbery. Yuuri had tried to think back, tried to remember, and, yes, he’d pushed someone out of the way of a vehicle, had brought them to the ground and been gone again in an instant, chasing the perpetrators. Then, though, he hadn’t known it was Victor, hadn’t been able to recognize the heartbeat that is now growing more and more familiar each day.
But he’d saved Victor’s life.
And then, during the factory fires, he’d spoken to him.
Victor shifts in his chair, leaning forward, and his thumb presses more firmly into Yuuri’s wrist with excitement. “You know the article. Tell me what you think.” With that, he rests his free hand on his thigh, begins drumming his index finger on the fabric. He’s restless, Yuuri realizes. He’s restless seemingly all the time. “I’ve been trying to search for more sightings the past few days, but no such luck.”
The past few days, Yuuri had kept his head lower than usual. But if he hopes to continue what he’d been doing, he can’t do that forever. It’d be best to get Victor off of this track in the first place, but given the sudden step-up of his heart rate and catch to his breath, that won’t be an easy task. “I think it’s, um…”
He trails off, torn between praise and forced criticism.
“I spoke to Celestino about it,” Victor adds, thoughtful. “He said he’ll publish it.”
“That’s… Great,” Yuuri decides, and keeps his head turned towards the table. He feels Victor’s fingers leave his arm. “I hope it sells.”
Victor hums. “You don’t sound like you mean that.”
Yuuri glances up, apologetic. “I do mean it! I do, really, it’s just… I don’t want you getting hurt. But we’ve talked about that already.” He swallows. “Really, I do think it’s great. Just… Yeah.”
There are footsteps, and then suddenly there’s an individual standing to their left, hands being smoothed down a cotton apron. “Have you two decided?”
Before Yuuri can even open his mouth to speak, Victor has answered.
“I’m having whatever he’s having.”
Yuuri flounders, a reddish blush powdering his cheeks as his mouth opens and closes in an attempt to say something. “Uh… A cheeseburger.”
“Two cheeseburgers?” The waitress confirms.
Victor nods, then she walks away.
A companionable silence settles between them and Yuuri leans back in his chair. He feels a foot press against his ankle and he grins automatically, pushing back. Victor’s foot moves away and Yuuri has to shift forward in his chair to chase it. He can’t seem to find it, though, and it takes him a moment to realize that Victor put it behind the leg of his chair. “Cheater,” he accuses.
Victor laughs and kicks him lightly again, and this time Yuuri is relentless, catching him before he can retreat. His chair creaks loudly when he accidentally shifts it a few inches, and Victor takes a sip of his water, presumably glancing around the restaurant to see if anyone has noticed them.
“All’s fair in love and war,” Victor replies without missing a beat.
“And which is this?”
Yuuri only realizes what he’d just said after the words had left his mouth. If he could reach out and grab them from the air, he would, but instead he just clears his throat, pushing his glasses up with his left hand. With his right, he absently reaches for the white stick that’s leaning against the table.
“Love already, Yuuri Katsuki?” he teases, then whistles. “Well…”
“You said it, not me,” Yuuri points out, and kicks Victor’s shin once again.
Victor shrugs one shoulder. “And here I was, hoping to catch you off guard once again. I guess you’re learning my tricks.”
“You’re a one trick pony,” Yuuri replies.
“Ah, now that’s not true.” Yuuri feels fingers drift against his own once again, and warmth floods through him, his heart beating just a little bit faster. He hears Victor swallow. “I’ve got many talents.”
There’s a blatant suggestion behind the words, and Yuuri’s breath catches. Instead of replying, he leans forward and takes a sip of his drink, using the hand that isn’t currently underneath Victor’s. He moves his fingers against Victor’s own, turning his palm upwards. The other man gets the hint and laces their hands, offering a slight squeeze.
Yuuri isn’t sure where his own audacity had come from, as Victor is normally the one to initiate things, but he smiles a little to himself—can’t help it, really.
It doesn’t take long for their conversation to steer itself back on track. They discuss coworkers, assignments from Celestino, everything that isn’t Victor’s article, which Yuuri is thankful for. He worries, though, that Victor may have noticed his reluctance to discuss it. The last thing he wants is for Victor to think that he thinks it’s bad, and that he’s not a good journalist by extension, but he also wishes he’d turn his attentions elsewhere.
All he can do is hope.
EXT. WEST 43RD STREET — NIGHT
Yuuri’s shoulder hurts like hell.
He sits on the edge of the roof of Ice Castle, gripping it with his right hand and trying to determine whether or not he should head inside and call it a night. Hopefully, he could prevent Yuuko from seeing the injury—if she’s even still inside. He’d underestimated a lithe mugger, who had had an unexpectedly sharp right hook.
He rolls it, groans out loud and arches his back, eyes squeezing shut and ears still acutely listening to the city around him. With his other hand, he tugs off his mask, needing to breathe fully, and brushes his hair back. He gels it back when he goes out at night—otherwise it could fall in front of his eyes and obstruct his fighting.
After he determines he’ll head back inside, sirens go off in the distance.
At least six blocks away.
He breathes.
Shuts his eyes.
Narcotics. In progress.
West 50th Street and 9th Avenue.
Yuuri squeezes his shoulder again, testing.
It’s just drugs—the police can probably handle it.
And then he hears a gunshot, just a faint echo of a thing.
Staggering slightly, he gets to his feet, stretches his back. He approaches the edge of the roof, makes the easy jump to the next building, and his walk slowly develops into a jog which slowly develops into a run, and then it’s a full sprint, the wind blowing against his still-exposed face and hair.
After another jump, he slides the mask back over his head, listens as the situation develops. The gunshots—there were two total—ceased, but he has made it this far, so he may as well continue.
When he has finally made it, he crouches on a rooftop above the scene, panting. His stamina is reliable, but it has been pushed to the limit. He collapses against an air conditioning unit, listens carefully to the activity below. It would appear a few individuals have been apprehended—he hears the police officers speaking into their walkie talkies and getting back into their cars.
So there was no reason for him to come, after all.
(And then something grabs his shoulder.)
Time slows.
Everything slows.
Like traversing through thick mud—no, quicksand, sinking and sinking.
First, he gets to his feet and swivels on his heels, grabbing the attacker’s wrist hard. He bends it but then another hand comes flying out of nowhere, fist meeting his cheek and knocking him off balance.
His heart leaps as the ground below comes into view, being knocked onto his stomach with his upper torso hanging over the edge of the roof. He scrambles off of the edge and turns again so that he can see his assailant.
Black.
Wearing all black.
Yuuri’s vision spins.
The attacker, taking advantage of the fact that they’re above him, lurches forward with their right leg. It lands on Yuuri’s bad shoulder and he groans in pain, trying desperately to make it onto his feet so that he can better defend himself.
He manages to get onto his feet, gripping his left shoulder to try and press away the pain and punching with his left hand. However, it doesn’t hit—the attacker dodges by stepping backwards, their movements quick.
When he licks his lips, he tastes blood.
“Who are you?” he manages to choke out, because his heart is racing and stalling for time may be the best option.
Instead of responding, the attacker predictably moves forward. Yuuri rolls to the right, back once again pressed against the air conditioning unit. He gets on top of it with one quick movement, now having the advantage of height.
Their hand moves to their waist.
Gleaming silver.
A knife.
He takes a step back on the air conditioning unit, glances around. If he’s fast, and if he’s smart, he can make it past them and make the short jump to the next rooftop. His advantage is his senses—it’s easy to predict movements. Their muscles tense in their right leg as they take a step forward with their left, grounding them.
With Yuuri above them, it appears they’re unsure of what to do.
Waiting, he realizes.
They’re waiting for him to get down.
And if they’re not moving first, despite the fact that they have a knife, there must be a reason for that.
And they hadn’t pulled the knife out right away, either—they’d started with their fists.
Yuuri listens deeper, feels for details that he must’ve missed.
And then he senses it.
Trembling.
Trembling from more than just adrenaline.
“You’re scared,” Yuuri realizes out loud, and hates how breathy his voice sounds, how pathetic. “You don’t have to…”
They leap.
He leaps off the AC unit and to the right, rolls with his back and breaks out into a full sprint towards the other rooftop. It’s only a few meters, but the attacker has the advantage of distance and lack of exhaustion, and they’re on his heels, and—
It grazes his skin.
The scent of copper mingling with oxygen, the taste of it in the air…
But then a yell.
Yuuri pushes himself up with his palms digging into the gravel on the rooftop and turns his head. The attacker falls to the ground and the knife clinks as it lands a few meters away. Shifting towards it, Yuuri ignores the roaring pain in his back that is begging to be noticed.
A third heartbeat.
There’s a third heartbeat on the rooftop.
But before he can contemplate that he wraps his fingers around the hilt of the knife and stumbles to his feet, holding it forward towards the attacker who remains laying on the ground. Breaths heaving, he listens for the third heartbeat, which is rapid, frantic, horrified, on the other edge of the rooftop and slowly backing up farther and farther.
Friend, not foe.
The attacker gets up quickly, and then there’s a standstill.
A triangle.
Yuuri, the attacker, and the third.
Yuuri knows what’s going to happen an instant before it does.
Instead of running at him, the attacker runs at the horrified presence on the roof, and Yuuri chases, knife in his hand. They’re planning on using a hostage. He manages to grab him just in time, but the attacker swings with his left fist, catching him in his bad shoulder once again. Without a choice, Yuuri lurches forward with the knife and catches him deep in the arm. The attacker slumps, yelling in pain, and beneath them, Yuuri hears hasty footsteps.
The police were alerted by the noise.
Leaving the bleeding assailant on the ground, who is live and very much conscious, Yuuri stumbles backwards. His back is bleeding, his shoulder is potentially displaced. He swallows, tries to maintain his balance. The police are coming up the stairs, the police are coming up the stairs and—
“You’re hurt,” a voice says.
Except…
No, no no no…
(The heartbeat remains rapid, but as Yuuri focuses in on it he realizes it was obvious all along, that it belonged to Victor. That Victor had seen the knife and knocked the attacker to the ground, that he must have snuck up when Yuuri was distracted with the fight.)
(That he must have come here to find Yuuri.)
(It was obvious, but Yuuri was distracted, and now…)
Quickly gaining his sense of direction and realizing that the police will be here any second, Yuuri turns towards the closest building. He limps to the edge, considers whether or not he’d be able to make the jump in his current state. The knife wound hadn’t been deep, but his senses allow him to feel every agonizing centimeter of it, every last lit nerve.
Afferent neurons, Yuuri can hear Phichit saying in his head. Damn them.
“I’m fine,” he bites out, careful to keep his voice low.
“The knife hit you,” Victor says, and steps forward. When they’d last met like this, there had been hesitancy, fear. Although it’s still present, it’s lessened by the adrenaline and the fact that there’s a man bleeding on the ground beside them. “You’re bleeding.”
Yuuri doesn’t turn to face him. “I’ll be fine,” he corrects, and takes a step back, readying himself to take the jump.
“The police can help you,” he promises. “I know the police chief. I can talk to him.”
He doesn’t move.
A hand touches his shoulder and he reacts on instinct, turning and grabbing the wrist hard. Victor makes a noise of protest and Yuuri realizes what he’d done instantly, letting go. There’s an apology half-formed on his lips but Victor has already backed up, eyes wide and horrified.
Despite his fear, he scans Yuuri, taking in every detail of his appearance. Yuuri’s mask is only from the nose upwards, so he steps backwards into the darkness. Victor is smart, after all. He doesn’t waste a second, mainly focusing on the limited part of Yuuri’s skin that is exposed. A journalist by nature, Yuuri realizes.
“Or at least come with me,” Victor begs. “I can help you. They don’t know I’m here. I came because I…”
He falters, but they both know why he came here.
Yuuri thinks about the man lying on the ground, still smells the growing presence of blood in the air. He feels sick to his stomach. “That was stupid.”
“I didn’t realize that someone would—”
“You got in the way.” He says, and turns again so that Victor can’t continue looking at his chin. “Don’t look for me again.”
And with that, he jumps.
The landing is rough—his knees hit the concrete and he feels his body protest. But he continues, hearing the excited chatter of the police as they storm the rooftop. He hears Victor’s heartbeat, increasingly distant, and hears his voice as he tries to explain himself to the police chief.
I’m at an internship right now, and really enjoying it! I feel like I’m doing some really meaningful work and the people I’m working with are awesome. I haven’t checked in here in a while, and I actually just watched Dan Howell’s video which got me thinking about Tumblr again. So here I am!!
Hey there! I just found your fanfictions some days ago and immediately fell in love with your writing!! like seriously I binge-read all of your YOI fics in like two days straight xD <3 I love how your stories have an own story line to it, plot twists and a lot of fluff but still have a good connection to the original anime //v// (AND YOUR WRITING I DONT KNOW HOW TO EXPLAIN IT BUT IT MAKES ME SO HAPPY ;3;) Just had to tell you this and wanted to ask if you're still planning to update IINYH ? <3
AHHHH thank you so much!! :D I’m glad you enjoy my stories!!!
Sadly I’m not planning on updating IINYH since I don’t have plans to return to writing Victuuri anytime soon :( :( It’s sad leaving it unfinished though.... I had such plans for it!!
Hi! I just binged all your Victuuri fics on AO3 and wanted to say you’re an awesome writer :) My favorite author for Victor’s POV. He is so endearing and extra in the best possible way, lol. Thanks for writing and sharing!
Thank you so much! :D :D Happy to hear you like my Victor POV and thank you for reading!
Dropping in to say hiiii and to let you know that I was on Netflix the other day and I saw "the fundamentals of caring" and i swear, i thought it was your fic. Not even kidding. Sadly it wasnt but for like, half a minute, it was. Hope school and life are well and that you're doing good!! 💖
lololol that is great !! hope school and life are going well for you too <3
So you feel like yoi doesn't inspire you to write anymore? :/
I wouldn’t phrase it so much as YOI doesn’t inspire me anymore, so much as it is that I’m not inspired to write in general anymore. Nothing happened, and it’s not to blame on anything in particular, I think stuff like that just sort of... Happens to me? Not sure why.
I remember when I stopped writing DW fic after writing for AGES and it just didn’t feel right anymore. The same thing happened with YOI, and has happened with other hobbies of mine as well (like making Photoshop edits).
Not sure if anyone out there can relate? Sometimes the inspiration just dies. Maybe one day I’ll write again, maybe I won’t! I certainly hope I do, since I had such a great time writing both DW and YOI fic! The communities for both shows are truly wonderful, and it’s certainly had a positive influence on my life. :)
Hi! I just wanna say thank you for writing not only one, but four of my favorite fics in YOI. You have no idea how much your writing influenced my writing style. Thank you for existing 😊❤️
!!!!!! Thank you, friend! It is crazy to me to hear that my writing influenced your writing style -- hearing stuff like that is just insane to me. Thank YOU for existing!
omfg what a throwback ,,, idk if you're ever going to see this, but i was spouse #13! i really miss your blog and your writing, so if you ever decide to start back up again i'm right here !! also fr seeing me from more than a year ago,,,,,,,,, what did you do to her @ me now ,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,she was so pure (and i hope spouse #8 is doing well, and all of my other fellow spouses too!)
!!!!!!! A throwback indeed. Aww I’m honored that you miss my blog / writing pal. <3
AHH wait what happened to you!! That is so vague!! Are you oKAY?????
hi guys, how’s it going, just thought i’d check in
I get messages sometimes asking if I’m doing well in school / getting lit in cali / dead so just to clarify, I’m still doing great! Classes have been going well, I am super passionate about my major (computer science), have tons of great friends, and am currently watching AHS: Roanoke. I’m also still dating my wonderful boyfriend (who you might remember made the book version of one of my fics for me). :D
I miss Tumblr but still haven’t quite found the passion to come back and be active on here again -- however, I love checking in every once and a while to see what’s going on and how everyone’s doing! I see big drama about them shutting down adult content or something!
