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#his name is Yakov the Feathered
werederg · 9 months
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Back on my Bloodborne DND bullshit, babey!
Today’s Topic: Setting!
Okay so obviously Bloodborne takes place in Yharnam, but like most soulsborne games, the world of Yharnam is relatively empty of people/npc’s compared to other games, and especially compared to what Dungeons and Dragons is designed for. So obviously a big part of adapting Bloodborne for dungeons and dragons is filling out the world more, but for the sake of my own creativity and bc I thought it would be fun and interesting to give such a different setting compared to the vibes of the game, the setting for Bloodborne DND, as I’ve been playing it, takes place in Yharnam at least a few decades before the game takes place. So the world is less degraded, there are more people, the church is still at its full functioning and power, the hunters workshop is still operating as intended, NPC’s from the original game aren’t in the same places in their lives as they are in the game, significantly younger or not born at all (except for Gilbert bc I love him and I want him to be there lmao).
And it’s been really fun exploring what Yharnam would look before everything really went to shit, but while things are still very fucked up. It does change a lot of NPC’s from the game. I’ll give a few examples!
Laurence is still Vicar of the healing church.
Meaning Amelia is not vicar, probably currently a lower member of the church officials.
Father Gascoigne is not in Yharnam yet and his children definitely haven’t been born.
Eileen the crow is not a hunter of hunters yet.
Ludwig is still around and kicking as the head of the church hunters.
So as you can see it does eliminate a few bosses from the game, but I think that works with the vibe of this version of Yharnam being less degraded and therefore less dangerous than that of canon Bloodborne.
I’m still working to put a coherent timeline together, bc it’s not like we know when most events happen or how much time happens in between them. It’s confusing to me what the time spacing between the old hunters like Gehrman and Maria is between the events of like the founding of the healing church.
It’s explicitly stated that the Hunt (tm) started the night old Yharnam burned down, but also obvious that there were hunters before the start of the official hunt. So I don’t know lmao.
Although to be clear I’m not necessarily being 100% accurate to every lore note, for the sake of storytelling. But Bloodborne has very good writing and creative design so the more lore I dig up, the more ideas it usually gives me.
I can’t wait to talk about all the new NPC’s I’ve made to populate the world, I’m very proud of them and it will probably what I talk about next, even though I should probably elaborate on the timeline some more, but it hurts my brain a little. I’m running off of pure vibes here.
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yoificfinder · 4 years
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Hey love, hope you are doing well ✨ I was wondering if you have any recommendations regarding side characters (personality analysis, friendship etc.) I absolutely adore all the side characters in the YOIverse however there are not many fics revolving around them so if you know any good ones, it'd be great!! Thank you so much in advance 💟
Hey dear nonnie! This took a long time, I hope you're still here. I combed through ao3 to find fics I remember that fit your request and discovered new gems along the way! Many of these are not popular/underrated but I guarantee that they're good reads so I hope you (and anyone else who finds this) enjoy! If only for that reason alone, I really hope this rec list becomes one of the most popular posts in this blog (I would really appreciate a reblog!) so these fics/authors can receive more love! Plus this is the most exhaustive and time-consuming rec list I've made so far (but I still feel that I missed a lot so other recs are welcome!).
Without further ado, here are some great YOI side-characters' stories in canonverse:
(Don't) Give A Damn by @forochel [T, 9K]
Mari, through the years.
an open door by tripcyclone [G, 8K]
Lilia never wanted children of her own, but caring for Victor gives her a glimpse into the life she chose to pass by.
Beautiful In Knowing by @val-creative [T, 1K]
Sara knew she was a girl, even if nobody else did or believed her.
She ordered Michele to call her "Lady Sara" from now on. He would roll his eyes and grumble, but never attempt to misgender her. She liked "Sara" — it meant "lady, princess, noblewoman". And she would never go back to her deadname.
by any other name by iguanastevens [T, 2K]
"A rose by any other name would smell as sweet."
Yuri's life as told by the names he's given; or, how Yuri's names direct his life.
Feathers on the Ice by Kiranokira / @kyashin [E, 79K]
After dinner and a bath and quality hamster time, snuggled in bed cocooned within his eight entirely necessary pillows, Phichit indulges himself and investigates Seung-gil's hashtag. There isn’t much from Seung-gil himself, but Seung-gil's fans are many and dedicated. Amid the photos of Seung-gil at competitions or practicing and the few candid shots of Seung-gil in airports or out on the streets of Seoul, there’s a very recent professional video uploaded by user andjoy_studio.
Phichit clicks on it, and his life changes.
fermata by perbe [T, 3K]
When one is patchwork of growth plates and bruises, it is inevitable that one must admire boys with words a size too big, as if they know down to their bones that they are meant for something greater.
I used to burn for you, Otabek thinks.
(A character study on Otabek's reaction to his placement at the Grand Prix Finals.)
Go On Ahead by @kiaronna [G, 2K]
Sour, grouchy Yakov didn’t understand sparkly purple skate outfits or wanting to eat your weight in sweets or having crushes on boys.
But Viktor did.
Gossips, Chinese whispers and misunderstandings by womanroaring [M, 8K]
Series of short stories relating to how certain (often perfectly innocent) scenes in Yuri On Ice would have looked from the outside. And just the gossip and stuff that would have surrounded them.
I am Yuri Plisetsky by rinsled05 / @dreaming-fireflies [M, 1K]
Who is Yuri Plisetsky?
He's not Agape.
Not a “prima donna” ballerina.
And definitely no Russian fairy.
No, Yuri Plisetsky is an angry, loud, in-your-face, Russian tiger who will take to the ice and give you a brilliant gold-worthy performance you will never forget.
... a piece on Yuri's rationale for skating to "Welcome to the Madness". Rated for the actual foul-mouthed language in the story itself, courtesy of one Yuri Plisetsky.
if friends were flowers i'd pick you by windupbirdgirl / @tanpopori [G, 4K]
Yuuko thinks of Yuuri’s skating, beautiful and flawed. She thinks of Yuuri sitting with the girls instead of the other boys at practice. She thinks of Yuuri and Viktor, the posters of him he asks her to buy him for birthdays. The posters he wouldn't ask anyone else to buy.
“Oh, Yuuri.” She bites her nails, ruining the carefully applied polish. She doesn’t care at all.
Sitting in that tiny bedroom, she makes a big decision.
if love is king, who wears the crown by @crollalanzaa [G, 1K]
“Second is seen as nothing,” Christophe had derided.
“But that moment you glide onto the ice, that hush of the audience, and that expectation, isn’t that worth something?”
“You speak as if you know. You used to skate?"
Past tense. It still stung, even if it was expected.
Minako knows exactly what it's like to be at the top of your game, and she remembers the descent just as clearly.
if she wants me by renaissance [G, 6K]
Hiroko and Minako, then and now.
kagura by night by seventhstar / @pencilwalla [T, 1K]
The world around her is like the mountains.
A mortal lifespan is narrow; mortals watch the mountain’s unchanging faces, unravaged by the same measure of time that takes a human from dust to dust, and think them immortal in comparison. But stone erodes, just as flesh decays. It just takes longer.
If she watches long enough, everything changes. Languages drift until all the words she learned before are meaningless. Technology changes until she ceases to believe in magic because human ingenuity is more infinite than the stars. What is beautiful, what is polite, what is wrong, what is right—time, given its way, reshapes all.
But Minako’s body remains as it has always been. That’s why she loves to dance, she supposes; it’s the one thing time cannot take from her.
Katsudon by @azriona [G, 8K]
Hiroko doesn’t need to see to coat pork cutlets in egg and panko. She has made this dish for her family for over thirty years; she’ll make it another thirty, if she’s lucky.
Now she makes it for Yuuri and Victor as they fly home from Barcelona, with silver around their necks and gold around their fingers.
keep me steady as we go by strikinglight [G, 3K]
When Isabella stood and crossed the room to where he sat she saw her notebook open in his lap, turned to the last page of their to-do list, all but three items crossed off with less than a month to the wedding date. License. Ceremony. Everything after. She saw the angle of his gaze, too, not on the words but straight ahead, staring blank and glassy and brittle into some invisible place she still wasn’t sure she could follow him to, yet. And yet she had been the one who’d promised to try—and to keep promising, forever and forever.
Kooks by BoxWineConfessions [G, 3K]
Mari clasps her right hand across her left hand and rests them both atop her growing stomach. “I guess you’re just lucky that your father, I mean your other father, my brother-“ Mari giggles. “God, it all sounds so weird, doesn’t it? Do you care? Do you care that we’re all so fucked up and we don’t care at all?” Mari laughs again. It’s all she can do when she hurts this much, and wants a cigarette this much, but can’t stop smiling despite the fact that her body seems to hate her so much. “Well he means the world to me. That’s why I have you.”
Living in the Maybe by @adrianners [T, 6K]
It wasn’t hard to spot a 180cm platinum blond in Fukuoka International Airport. Especially when he was the only person wearing sunglasses. Indoors. At night.
Mari picks Viktor up at the airport when he returns from Moscow. Without Yuuri there to play his usual role of interpreter, they learn to communicate around their linguistic, cultural, and personal barriers.
post tenebras lux by @alykapediaaa [T, 1K]
“Which skater would you say has inspired your skating the most?”
The question catches him unaware, so much so that he’s rendered speechless. It’s only when he sees Yakov lean towards the microphone to answer in his stead that Yuri blurts out the first name that comes to mind.
“Yuuri Katsuki.”
The Best Men by @kiaronna [Not Rated, 5K]
Just as Viktor lives to surprise, Christophe Giacometti lives to scandalize, to sensationalize. But innocent little Phichit Chulanont is proving to be an impossible victim.
OR: where Christophe tries very hard to get under one Thai skater’s skin, and instead finds himself all over the younger skater’s Instagram feed and wrapped around his finger.
the city of bridges by @stammiviktor [T, 5K]
After three flights, a train ride, and dinner at the Katsukis' table, Yakov finally sees Hasetsu through Viktor's eyes.
The First Cut by BoxWineConfessions [E, 27K]
People made divorce seem like this long drawn out and ugly process, but it really wasn’t. He bought the town home for Isabella as a gift, and so it was hers. The flat down town would go to him, as it was closer to the rink. They paid off her medical school loans last fall, so that was done too. He had a few cars, which she unanimously agreed were his to keep, so long as she could keep her Corvette. She changed her vanity plate from Dr. Leroy to Dr. Yang. He saw it parked out front of the courthouse.
trials of Coach Yakov series by @naraht [T and M, 40K]
Summaries of fics in the series:
1. Forced to share a bed with Victor at the Sochi Grand Prix Final, Yakov learns more than he wants to know.
2. Yakov attempts to prepare Yuri for his transition to Seniors. Yuri doesn't care to listen.
3. No sex while you're competing – this is Yakov's rule. His athletes often have other ideas.
4. In 1980, Yakov Feltsman is the USSR's skating hero. At a dull official reception, he defends his loyalty to the motherland – and makes the acquaintance of a beautiful young dancer from the Bolshoi.
5. In which both Victor and Yakov have to remake themselves – Victor after his first Olympic gold and Yakov after his divorce.
Tz'ror by athoroughlybakedpotato [T, 3K]
Yakov changes much slower than the times do, but steadiness is not always a bad thing.
---
ETA - Other people's rec:
curtain of lies by @mandolinearts
JJ's Bizarre Adventure by Falahime
Landscapes of Spring and Summer by @myyoitrashblog
The Melancholy of Georgi Popovich by Falahime
+ a lot more recs on this reblog!!
Thanks for the rec, @vilchen, @genuine-firefly, @adrianners, and @kaleidodreams! ❤
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littlemiss-stone · 6 years
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Character Names
Ishigami Senku (石神千空) = “Stone God” + “Thousand Sky”
Oki Taiju (大木大樹) =  “Big Tree” + “Big Tree”
Ogawa Yuzuriha (小川杠) = “Small River” + “Lever”
Shishio Tsukasa (獅子王司) = “Lion Child King” + “Officer/Director”
Asagiri Gen (あさぎりゲン) = 
Asagiri can mean “Morning Mist” (朝霧)
Gen can many things but I think the most fitting for his character is  “Illusion” (幻)
Hyoga (氷月) = “Ice Moon”
Hyoga is a homophone for “glacier” (氷河)
Homura (ほむら) = 
Homura can mean “flame/blaze/passion/jealousy” (炎)
Ukyo (羽京) = “Wing/feather capital”
Mirai (未来) = “Future”
Minami Hokutozai (北東西南) = “North East West South”
or N.E.W.S
Nanami Ryusui (七海龍水) = “Seven Seas” + “Dragon Water”
François = a masculine name, the French form of Francis.
Byakuya (百夜) = “Hundred Nights”
Shamil Volkov =
Shamil (شامل) is an arabic name meaning “universal/inclusive”
Volkov (Волков) is a common Russian surname meaning “Wolf”
Yakov Nikitin = 
Yakov (Яков) is a Russian variation of the biblical name “Jacob”
Nikitin (Никитин) is a common Russian surname and a variation of the Nikita, which was derived from the Greek Nicetas, meaning “Victor”
Darya Nikitina = 
Darya (Дарья) is the Russian variation of Daria, the feminine form of Darius
Nikitina (Никитина) is the feminine version of Nikitin
Lillian Weinberg = 
Lillian means “Lilium” or “lily”
Weinberg is a german surname meaning “Vineyard”
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If it’s me you really seek
To @nooowestayandgetcaught From @singeiji
Hi! i hope you like the fic!!!
Title: if it’s me you really seek Rating: T Word Count: 3.4k Notes: wings/fairy au, canon compliant
Yuri is three when his Mama sits him down and tells him why they have wings that no one else can see.
Before tucking him in at night, Mama tells him a story. It’s always about a girl who can fly. She lives in the countryside with all of her fairy friends, and everyday, they go on a brand new adventure. But today, Mama tells him about the time the girl finds a boy in the woods.
“Her mother taught her to always be careful of strangers, but the boy was lost, and he seemed very nice, so she decided to help him anyway,” Mama says.
Yuri stares up at her, wide-eyed, captivated like he always is.
“What happened?” he asks, and he watches as Mama’s lips curl upwards in a smile.
She tucks his hair behind his ear and says, “It turned out that he was so nice, she decided to stay with him.”
Yuri’s eyebrows furrow.
“But what about her mother? And her fairy friends? Did she leave them?”
“Well, she did, but she made new friends, and she found a new family,” Mama says. “She got married to the boy and they had a baby together and she loved them both very much.”
“Just like you love me, Mama?”
Mama bends down to press a kiss onto Yuri’s temple.
“Yes, Yurochka, exactly how I love you,” Mama says. “You know why, my love? Because you are that baby, and I am that girl.”
Yuri’s breath catches and mouth drops open. “Does that mean we’re fairies, Mama?”
Mama’s smile widens. “Yes. That’s why we have wings, because we’re fairies who can fly.”
“Teach me how to fly, Mama!”
Yuri squirms, excited at the thought of it. He’s tried to, before, but even when he jumped as high as he could, he couldn’t follow the seagulls up to the sky.
But Mama shakes her head at him.
“You’re too young, Yurochka,” she says, and she reaches out to smooth the crease that appears between Yuri’s eyebrows. “But someday, Mama will teach you. We’ll fly together and we can show it to Papa.”
That night, Yuri dreams of flying above a forest. He dreams of his Mama and Papa all the way down on the ground, as tiny as a little kitty. They’re waving at Yuri, and Yuri waves back.
That night, Yuri dreams of flying towards the sun.
Yuri is five when his parents die in a house fire.
Yuri’s Grandpa lives all the way in the city. Yuri sleeps through most of the ride there, and when he wakes up, he’s on a bed he doesn’t recognize in a room he doesn’t recognize.
His room back home was always so bright and warm, even at night, but this room is cold and lonely. The corners are dark and they scare Yuri. But he has no more Mama to tell him he’s alright, and he has no more Papa to hug him and protect him from the monsters hiding in the dark.
Yuri doesn’t realize that he’s crying until Grandpa is already shushing him, until he’s already wrapped in Grandpa’s arms.
It isn’t the same. Grandpa is bigger than Papa, and his hands are rougher. Grandpa doesn’t have wings like Mama’s and Yuri’s, so he can’t hide Yuri away behind them like Mama used to do.
But it’s still nice. Grandpa is warmer than the rest of the room, and he lets Yuri cry into his shirt. His voice is low like Papa’s and his words remind him of Mama’s.
And even though Yuri cannot sleep with his parents on either side of him like he used to when he was having a bad night, he sleeps that night with his head on Grandpa’s lap and his hand wrapped tight on Grandpa’s wrist.
That night, Yuri dreams being stuck on the ground while his Mama and Papa hover above him. He can’t see them clearly because the sun is too bright behind them, but he knows it’s them. He can hear them calling for him, telling him to come, but he can’t. Yuri doesn’t know how to fly; his Mama hasn’t taught him yet.
That night, Yuri dreams of being left behind.
Yuri is six when he discovers the ice.
The figure skaters on TV look like they’re flying.
They glide along the ice with their arms spread, and to Yuri’s eyes, they look like birds with their wings extended on both sides, riding on the air. They take off for their jumps—triple axel, quad lutz, double toe—and to Yuri’s eyes, they look like birds taking flight.
There’s one who Yuri can’t take his eyes off. His hair is long and grey, and he’s wearing a pale gray costume to match. There are frills along his arms and his torso that almost look like feathers when he spins, and when he jumps, he soars.
His name is Victor Nikiforov and Yuri wants to ask him how to fly.
That night, Yuri dreams of skating. He’s on the lake back home, and when he looks up, he sees that Victor is with him. Victor is holding his hand and pulling him around. His smile is wide and there’s gold around his neck.
“You’re doing so well, Yura,” he says, and Yuri believes him.
That night, Yuri dreams of hope blossoming in his chest.
Yuri is nine when he first meets the man who coaches Victor.
A lot of the other kids are scared of Yakov, but Yuri isn’t.
See, Yakov Feltsman looks like the angry dog next door who always barks at Yuri when he passes by. That same angry dog turns to putty when Yuri reaches through the gate’s bars and pets him, and Yakov is very much the same.
Yakov barks out corrections and commands, but his touch is gentle when he moves to adjust Yuri’s limbs and his eyes are warm when he tells Yuri that he did a good job. Yakov reminds Yuri of Grandpa, and that’s why there isn’t any way he could be scared of him.
Yuri was hoping to catch a glimpse of Victor at Yakov’s camp. He doesn’t, but it’s fine. Instead, he takes home the image of Yakov’s face, his lips set into a line and his eyes warm with satisfaction so, so close to Grandpa’s face when he tells Yuri he’s proud of his Yurochka.
That night, Yuri dreams again of flying. The wind is strong, but he doesn’t get blown away with it. There’s a string wrapped around his ankle. When he looks down, he sees Grandpa and Victor and Yakov, and they’re the ones holding him to the earth.
That night, Yuri dreams of smiling down at them.
Yuri is eleven when he finally meets Victor Nikiforov.
Victor looks nothing like he did when Yuri first saw him. His hair is cut shorter, his shoulders wider, his legs longer. He still soars when he jumps, but now that Yuri can see him up close, he looks cold, lonely. He wraps his arms around himself and holds on like he’s hoping it’s someone else’s touch. He smiles like a lie.
He’s sitting down when Yakov first introduces Yuri to his new rinkmates, and yet it still feels like he’s looking down on Yuri.
“You’re good,” he says, after he watches Yuri skate for the first time, “but you’re still young.”
When he walks away, it feels like a slap to the face. Crystal clear dismissal that starts a spark in the pit of Yuri’s stomach.
Victor is still beautiful when he skates, but Yuri doesn’t want to fly with him anymore.
That night, Yuri dreams of Victor skating in a stadium empty except for Yuri, sitting at the very back. It’s cold and it’s dark except for the spotlight that follows Victor around the rink. Yuri doesn’t think Victor knows he’s here. He doesn’t think Victor realizes that there’s anyone watching at all.
That night, Yuri dreams of what loneliness looks like as it pours from Victor and fills up the whole room.
Yuri is twelve when he learns his first program.
Yakov tells him not to overwork himself. Yakov tells him he shouldn’t practice his jumps yet. Yakov tells him he can’t sneak into the rink after-hours all the time.
Yuri doesn’t understand why he can’t skate every hour of every day if it’s what he wants. He doesn’t understand why Yakov won’t let him fly. So he doesn’t listen. He practices, even when Yakov is shouting at him. He skates, even when Yakov threatens to drop him as a skater.
Weill. If Yakov drops him, then Yuri will find someone else who will let him fly.
That night, Yuri dreams of flying. The sky is clear and the sun is bright as it beckons at him to come, my child, come to me. But when he tries, he finds that he can’t. When he tries, he finds a string wrapped around his leg that pulls him back down, further and further away from the sun.
That night, Yuri dreams of falling to the ground before he can even reach the sky.
Yuri is thirteen when he wins his first gold medal.
In the last few seconds of his skate, Yuri replaces his triple with a quad. He touches down, but he gets the rotations in, and he hears the audience gasp and roar when they realize what he’s done.
But that doesn’t matter to Yuri. To Yuri, all that he can think about as he stands here with his chest heaving and sweat dripping from his skin is that he’s finally gotten to fly.
Yuri is always cold these days, but today, he’s as warm as the last time he was in his Mama’s arms.
That night, Yuri dreams of being back home. He’s in his childhood bed, tucked in tight just the way he likes. Mama is sitting beside him, telling him a story about a girl who can fly.
That night, Yuri dreams of warmth.
Yuri is fourteen when he first sees Yuuri Katsuki.
It’s easy to sneak out of a hotel room when there’s no one guarding him, and since Yakov has to look after Georgi, Yuri has absolutely no trouble at all.
Yuuri Katsuki skates first, and he takes Yuri’s breath away. His costume is plain and he falls on most of his jumps, but he skates like it’s what he was born to do. When he moves, he is smooth, effortless. He is ethereal and otherworldly. He is extending his hand to the audience and telling them come and watch me, only me.
He makes Yuri want to skate. He makes Yuri want to fly.
That night, Yuri dreams of the time his Mama flew for him. She hovers up in the sky, her hair blowing in the wind, her wings wide enough that she covers the sun.
“It’s beautiful up here, Yurochka,” she tells him. “Someday, you’ll see this too.”
But when Yuri blinks, Mama is gone. In her place is Yuuri Katsuki, his hand extended to Yuri.
“Come, Yuri,” he says.
But Yuri can’t.
That night, Yuri dreams of failure.
Yuri is fifteen when he’s reminded that those who fly can fall.
Yuuri Katsuki places sixth in his first Grand Prix Final event.
Maybe Yuri should have expected it considering how Katsuki is so inconsistent. Or maybe Yuri should have expected it considering how everyone he thinks could teach him to fly seem to fall flat in the end.
Somehow, though, this hurts more than the last time. Yuuri Katsuki had yet to soar, but now he’s bent and broken. Now, Yuri can’t take his hand and learn with him.
Yuri gets angry. Then again, he’s more angry than not these days.
That night, Yuri dreams of skating Yuuri Katsuki’s program.
He falls.
He gets back up.
He falls.
He gets back up.
He falls.
That night, Yuri dreams of falling so far that he can’t get back up again.
Yuri is fifteen when he learns to rely on himself.
Lilia Baranovskaya is scarier than Yakov Feltsman could ever be.
She tells him that pain is beauty, and so Yuri reaches into the deepest, darkest part of himself and pulls out everything he can use to be beautiful. She tells him that his natural talent is nothing if he doesn’t work hard, and what Yuri hears is that his wings are nothing if he can’t use them.
She tells him that he needs to throw his past self away, that he needs to be reborn, and Yuri listens.
He dances and he thinks of the sky, coming closer and closer until it almost seems like it’s within his reach. He skates and he thinks of his wings unfurling around him, of his feet lifting from the ground because of his own power.
Yuri learns to fly.
That night, Yuri dreams of his Mama.
“You had it in you all along, my Yurochka,” she tells him.
Yuri bows his head. His hand tightens around hers.
“I’m sorry it took me so long, Mama,” he says.
Mama doesn’t reply. Instead, she stands up and she walks to Yuri’s window, which is open, showing the full moon. Mama extends a hand, palm up.
That night, Yuri dreams of jumping out of his bedroom window and flying with Mama right beside him.
Yuri is fifteen when he becomes friends with Otabek Altin.
Yuri loves watching the sunset. The world glows yellow, and for a few minutes everyday, Yuri can bathe in the sun without having to fly to it.
Today, he watches the sunset with Otabek. Today, he listens to Otabek describe a boy Yuri doesn’t remember. Otabek says he has the eyes of the soldier, and it’s the first that Yuri’s ever heard it.
Everyone has always told Yuri that he’s too delicate, too angry, too lazy, too greedy. They contradict themselves. They never know what they really want from Yuri. Yuri has enough confusion and doubt in him; he doesn’t need theirs.
But Otabek—
Otabek saw Yuri’s hard work, even though he hadn’t. Otabek saw Yuri’s efforts, even though he felt like they weren’t enough. Otabek wants to be Yuri’s friend, even though he thought he’d always have to be alone to fly.
When Yuri takes Otabek’s hand, it feels like a new beginning.
That night, Yuri dreams of being back in that novice ballet class.
This time, he sees Otabek. This time, he’s the one who offers a hand to Otabek when he falls.
That night, Yuri dreams of dancing in a pair.
Yuri is fifteen when he wins his first gold in the Senior division.
Grandpa is proud of him. Yakov and Lilia are proud of him. Katsudon and Victor are proud of him. Otabek is proud of him. Yuri wishes his Mama and Papa could be here, but he knows that wherever they are, they’re proud of him too.
Most of all, though, Yuri is proud of himself. He breaks Victor’s world record. He won so Katsudon wouldn’t stop skating with him. He wins gold on his Senior debut.
But there is more to overcome. Yuri has flown to the top of this mountain, but there’s more left for him to cover.
That night, Yuri dreams of standing on top of the podium. Everyone is with him, surrounding him, and Yuri has never been happier.
That night, Yuri dreams of warmth that starts in his chest and spreads to the rest of his body.
Yuri is sixteen when he shows Otabek that he can fly.
They’re in Yuri’s room in Grandpa’s apartment. It’s Otabek’s first night in, and he sits on the futon laid beside the bed while Yuri paces back and forth.
“What do you need to show me?” Otabek asks.
Yuri pauses, takes a deep breath. He hasn’t shown anyone else but Grandpa before, but Grandpa already knew he could do it, just like he knew Mama could.
Yuri doesn’t know how Otabek will react, but Otabek is his friend. His first friend, if not his only friend. Yuri wants him to know.
“Watch me,” he says.
He flies.
Otabek blinks, says, “Amazing.”
Then—
“I guess we don’t need my bike to run away from your fans now.”
Yuri tackles Otabek in a hug and pretends he isn’t smiling into Otabek’s neck.
That night, Yuri dreams that he’s back in his childhood home. Instead of seeing Mama like he usually does, though, it’s Otabek who sits on Yuri’s bed. It’s Otabek who stands up and offers a hand to Yuri.
It’s Otabek who jumps out of the window and flies with Yuri.
That night, Yuri dreams of Otabek’s rare smiles.
Yuri is seventeen when he first shares a podium with two of his favorite skaters.
Getting silver isn’t the same as getting gold, but it’s not so bad when it’s Katsudon who snatches the top spot on the podium right from under Yuri’s nose. It certainly isn’t so bad, getting a score barely two points above bronze when it’s Otabek who’s standing on Katsudon’s other side.
Yuri can see Victor standing with Yakov and Lilia. He has Yuri’s phone pressed to his ear, and Yuri can easily imagine Grandpa on the other end of the line, asking Victor to tell him what’s happening.
There’s a feeling in Yuri’s chest. It blooms and it blossoms and it makes Yuri feel like he’s flying even though his feet are still touching the ground.
That night, Yuri dreams of sitting in his burning childhood room. It’s alright, though. It’s not just Mama with him tonight, but Papa too.
“You’re doing so well, Yurochka,” Mama says.
“We’re so proud of you,” Papa says.
When they offer their hands to Yuri, he takes them.
That night, Yuri dreams of his parents letting him go, letting him fly without them.
Yuri is eighteen when Yakov retires and hands him off to Victor.
Hasetsu is far away from St. Petersburg where Mila and Georgi are. It’s far away from Moscow where Grandpa is. It’s even farther away from Almaty where Otabek is.
But Yuri is used to having to talk to Grandpa through phone calls everyday, and he’s used to talking to Otabek online.
So Yuri makes Grandpa promise to keep calling him everyday and ask how his practice is going. Yuri makes Otabek promise to keep sending him recordings of his mixtapes, and he promises to keep sending pictures of Potya to Otabek. Potya, who’s now safely in Hasetsu and all too condoning of Victor’s dog.
Victor and Katsudon—
Well. Yuri promises to keep making a fuss whenever they get too affectionate with each other in public, of course.
That night, Yuri dreams of flying across the distance between Japan and Almaty.
That night, Yuri dreams of meeting Otabek.
Yuri is nineteen when he realizes he’s in love with his best friend.
By some cruel twist of fate, they have to wait until the Grand Prix Finals to see each other again.
Yuri waits in the hotel lobby. Katsudon has to hold his leg down because he keeps bouncing it on the floor otherwise. Victor has to confiscate his phone because Yuri keeps checking it obsessively for a new message from Otabek.
But finally, Victor says, “He’s here.”
Finally, Otabek comes through the doors and Yuri sees him again after more than half a year of nothing but messages they have to sneak into their busy schedules and Snapchats that consist of less selfies than Yuri would like.
Usually, Yuri wouldn’t even consider openly giving affection in such a public place, but Otabek is right there and he feels like he’s been waiting so long for this. So Yuri runs and he runs and he jumps into Otabek’s open arms.
“I missed you, Beka,” Yuri says.
“I missed you too, Yura,” Otabek replies.
Yura doesn’t even mind that Victor is so obviously taking a video of them.
That night, Yuri dreams of flying with a string wrapped around his ankle. It doesn’t connect him to someone on the ground like it did before. Instead, it connects him to Otabek, who’s flying right beside him.
That night, Yuri dreams of finally finding someone he wants to stay by his side.
Yuri is twenty when he first kisses his Beka.
They’re in Almaty. Yuri is staying at Otabek’s while Victor and Katsudon are away on their honeymoon.
Otabek’s sister is in the next room, and his mother is in the room across theirs, but somehow, those details disappear from Yuri’s mind when he and Otabek are staring at each other under the dim light of Otabek’s bedside lamp.
“Yura,” Otabek says. “Will you kiss me or not?”
Well.
Yuri kisses him, of course.
That night, Yuri takes Otabek flying. They stay up until sunrise.
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possibleplatypus · 7 years
Text
HAVE SOME WORLDBUILDING for the harry potter cross-dressing tech support 3au prompt thing requested by heart mouth anon.
I wrote it so I might as well share it :P spoilers for if you haven’t read the thing.
Viktor Nikiforov
Viktor is from a very old/wealthy/influential Russian Pure-blood family that went underground when Grindelwald came into power and reemerged in Britain when the fighting was over. Historically, the family tried their best not to take sides in conflicts, which gained them enemies anyway.
When Viktor started showing remarkable magical aptitude as a child (his temper tantrums brought down literal blizzards), his parents decided to have him home-schooled from an early age instead of sending him to Hogwarts.
His parents are kind of elitist in regards to blood status but they’re not Pure-blood supremacists; they think they’re pretty much better than everyone else and view Muggles as akin to cute dogs that can do tricks, but acknowledge that some of the strongest/smartest wizards have been Half-bloods/Muggleborns. They taught Viktor not to underestimate or look down on anyone because of blood status, but still expect him to marry another Pure-blood and would probably be aghast if he married a Muggle (but they’d ultimately come around, especially if they have grandchildren).
He was pretty sheltered for most of his life, knowing only his tutors and the Aurors who protected his family; his parents; the house elves (one of whom was assigned to be his personal house elf at birth and became his closest friend); and his parents’ Pure-blood/high status guests and their children. Viktor was always charming, but in the end refused to see the other children again if they were rude to the house elves (and there were a lot of rude children), citing the need to study.
Viktor’s father wanted to groom him to eventually become Minister of Magic, but Viktor wanted something more exciting. He also wanted to be able to use his magic regularly instead of sitting at a desk all day. As Aurors protected his family and home and were dashing figures of heroism, he decided to pursue that route. His parents objected because of the danger inherent in the profession. When shown photos and told stories of what Aurors had to go through, Viktor was admittedly shaken. But after giving it some thought, he decided to become an Auror anyway– he knew he was strong, and would get stronger with practice. Why not use that strength to benefit the world (and escape his parents’ expectations)? He also pointed out that being an accomplished Auror would make him a more popular candidate for Minister of Magic (not that he cared about that).
Viktor was 18 when he became an Auror (and got his own flat, finally); he was the youngest Auror in history. They wouldn’t let him start training until he was 16 (and his family had to pull some strings), and he completed training in 2 years instead of 3 because he was just that good. On his first assignment, he found and captured a Dark wizard and their duel caught the attention of the Muggle village the wizard was hiding in; the whole village needed to be Obliviated. Viktor became a media sensation for his young age, prowess, name, charisma, and good looks. He continued to excel in virtually every case that he was given.
Viktor was invited soon after his first case and every year thereafter by his Hogwarts fanclub to give demonstrations of defensive charms and dueling. Chris was inspired to become an Auror after meeting Viktor at a demonstration at Beauxbatons; Chris currently lives and works in Switzerland, but he and Viktor exchange letters and visit each other occasionally.
After working as an Auror for 6 years, the glamour of the profession has largely been stripped away– long days and nights staking out Dark wizards; sometimes being unable to save people; gruesome crime scenes; the media constantly waiting for him to slip up; unable to keep a meaningful relationship because of his job/concerns about enemies coming after his partners if the relationship was made public; the other Aurors thinking he’s a goal to surpass or an airhead or a spoiled show-off etc.; his parents nagging him to retire already, get married, and start running for office; his closest friends being his dog and his house elf, who he told to stay behind to take care of his parents (she comes to fetch Makkachin when Viktor is on long-term missions). It doesn’t help that he overworks to ignore his deteriorating emotional state.
Then he goes to the latest graduation banquet and congratulates all the newest Aurors and says he looks forward to working with them (kind of a lie since he pretty much always works alone); one of the graduates is a very handsome Japanese man who seems to be stuck to the wall furthest away from everyone else, shows no interest in mingling, and drinks glass after glass of Firewhisky. Viktor learns that his name is Yuuri Katsuki, who the other graduates say received top marks in all their classes but for some reason nearly failed the final exam. When one of the graduates goes to fetch Yuuri, Yuuri challenges him to a “dance battle,” snaps his fingers, and music starts playing out of nowhere. Viktor watches, slack-jawed, as Yuuri strips his robes off and obliterates his friend with some scandalous Muggle dancing. He beats everyone else who challenges him, too– then he spots Viktor.
The other Aurors watch with much amusement as Yuuri sweeps Viktor away into dances that he is thankfully more familiar with; they dance, uncaring of (or in Yuuri’s case, oblivious to) their audience. They start dancing in the air, on the walls, on the ceiling; more of Yuuri’s clothes start vanishing; following their lead, the rest of the party devolves into drinking and debauchery.
Yuuri asks Viktor to be his partner, and Viktor *gasps* thinking he’s never had a partner before and should he really agree to it with a guy he doesn’t even know and who came in dead last on the final but he’s never felt such a connection with anyone before and oh what the hell yes, owl me tomorrow and we’ll set things up and send Yakov a proposal. He is already excited about mentoring/being partnered with someone so vivacious.
A concerned staffer (and killjoy) alerts Yakov (who left early after giving his speech) that the banquet has descended into hedonism, the Aurors were supposed to have left already, we need this room tomorrow; Yakov finds Viktor cradling a practically naked man in his arms (Yuuri’s only in his boxers at this point, and those are being dangerously jostled as he grinds against Viktor) and becomes apoplectic, tells everyone to go home, ESPECIALLY YOU VITYA, and makes one of the more sober graduates take Yuuri home.
Viktor practically floats back to his flat. Then he waits for Yuuri’s owl. He waits for a week before casually asking Yakov if he knows where Yuuri is, only to find out he recently left for a secret mission for an undetermined amount of time that Yakov won’t tell him anything about.
Viktor is furious, why the hell would a complete rookie be sent on a confidential mission? but Yakov says it’s none of Viktor’s business and won’t budge, not even after weeks of him asking after Yuuri, and Vitya if you ask me one more time about that boy I’ll send you to Romania to shovel dragon dung. Viktor throws himself into his work and gets more and more unhappy and reckless…
Yuuri Katsuki
(Note: The presence of Youkai in wizarding Japan as well as a kitsune Headmistress for Mahoutokoro was inspired by @dreaming-fireflies​’ Hogwarts series, Defying Gravity, which everyone should read!)
Yuuri showed no signs of magical ability until he was 9 months old and started trying to walk. Hiroko fondly recalls that Yuuri appeared frustrated whenever he would stumble or fall, and then one day all of a sudden turned into a black fox kit and started running around the house.
Living in a Muggle community and running a Muggle inn, Yuuri’s parents hid him from the guests until he was old enough to understand that he couldn’t turn into a fox whenever he wanted. He also couldn’t change his face to scare people, either, no, not even if another child was mean to him. (Mari had gone through something similar until she was able to stop her hair from changing into random colors.)
Somehow, the Japanese Ministry caught wind of a strange boy living in an otherwise quiet Muggle town. A Ministry official was sent to inquire about him, and his parents had to admit that he was a Metamorphmagus who also had kitsune heritage. The official gave the Katsukis a warning on keeping his abilities a secret from Muggles, then told Yuuri that she expected great things from him when he went to Mahoutokoro.
Minako, Hiroko’s old friend, stopped by when she wasn’t touring with her dance company to play with the kids; when Mari left at 11 years old to board at Mahoutokoro full time, Minako spent her visits helping channel Yuuri’s endless energy through dance.
When Yuuri was 7, he clung to Mari as they rode the giant storm petrel to Yuuri’s first day at school. Having had it drilled into his head that he couldn’t use his Metamorphmagus or kitsune abilities around others, he was shocked when the Headmistress summoned him to her office after school (Mari tagged along) and asked him to show her what he could do. After Mari nodded to him, Yuuri turned into a fox, changed a small feather he had taken from the petrel into a gold coin, then turned back into a boy. He admitted to Mari that he had secretly been practicing when he was alone in his room.
The Headmistress was very impressed, to say the least, and asked Yuuri if he wanted to learn more. The shadows of nine tails waved on the wall behind her, and Yuuri gasped and said yes. After getting permission from Yuuri’s parents, she started teaching Yuuri how to control his kitsune powers after school. She did tell Yuuri that it was better to keep his abilities hidden around the other students, though, as it might attract unwanted attention.
(Though Wizard-Youkai relations have drastically improved, there are still some parents who mutter under their breaths about a kitsune Headmistress, and some students who are teased for having Youkai heritage; the Japanese Ministry, too, is harsher on Youkai and their descendants when it comes to scrutiny and punishment. It had been illegal for Yuuri’s grandmother to have ever married a Muggle, so Toshiya and his children are sort of products of a crime and if the wrong person found out, they could be shamed/ostracized; better for Yuuri and Mari to just say they are Half-Muggle (and not a quarter-kitsune/quarter-Muggle).)
Unfortunately, due to financial troubles, the inn had to close, and Yuuri was taken out of school to go to Britain with his family (on Minako’s suggestion– she had opened a dance studio there) before he could start his second year. Mari had a difficult choice– she only had a few years left in school, and it was a boarding school so it wasn’t like she saw her family every day anyway. Even so, she wanted to stay close to them, and so she asked for and received permission to transfer to Hogwarts as a Fourth year.
The Ministry didn’t want to lose such promising students, and even offered Hiroko a job to stay, but the inn had been their passion. Besides, the Katsukis were privately worried that the Ministry might have an interest in their children. Hiroko gracefully declined the honor and got them all the hell out.
They stayed with Minako until they were able to build a new inn– this time catering to Muggles and wizards alike (the wizards had a secret entrance and separate rooms), and it prospered. Japanese wizards (and the occasional Youkai) loved it, and its reputation spread by word of mouth.
Since children start school at the age of 7 in Japan, Yuuri studied Mari’s old spellbooks while he waited for his Hogwarts letter (though Hiroko would only allow him to practice magic in her presence).
At Hogwarts, Mari quickly showed anyone who tried to bully her for her accent, race, or blood status how powerful Japanese spells could be (she received a lot of detentions for it but probably made Mahoutokoro proud). By the time Yuuri started, Mari was in her last year and pretty popular for being a powerful witch and terrifying Beater, and everyone was wondering what her brother would be like, which worsened Yuuri’s innate anxiety.
Mari helped Yuuri adjust to life at Hogwarts, keeping bullies off his back and teaching him spells to use when she couldn’t be there. She took a backseat when she noticed Yuuri becoming friends with Phichit, trusting that he could handle himself. When she graduated, she went to help her parents with the inn.
Though he had Phichit as a friend, Yuuri still struggled a lot with anxiety while at Hogwarts. The Headmistress of Mahoutokoro had told him, when he’d left, that he could write to her at any time; so in his second year, he sent her a letter asking for advice, thinking that she would never reply or that she would have forgotten him by now. He was shocked to receive an answer from her with several suggestions, one of which was something called Occlumency. He got permission from the Headmistress of Hogwarts to take out some advanced books from the Library, and he and Phichit practiced together. It was very hard, though, and the Mahoutokoro Headmistress seemed to be able to tell that Yuuri was lying when he said that he was doing okay. She said that if he wanted to, she could teach him during the summer.
He started spending a month every summer after second year being tutored by the Mahoutokoro Headmistress again (he lived with her and her sister, who turned out to be the Ministry official who had first visited his family), and practiced what he learned at home. Occlumency really did help him center himself while he was anxious, and he was determined to master it to combat his (perceived) mental weakness. When the Headmistress thought Yuuri was ready, she taught him other spells as well, including Legilimency, since Yuuri wanted to master all sorts of mental magic (though of course he knew he should never use it on someone else without a good reason).
When Viktor was 18, Yuuri was 14 and in his fourth year at Hogwarts. After seeing Viktor, suddenly the entire world was brand new and Yuuri had a goal to aim for. Yuuri and Phichit would go to watch Viktor every time he came to demonstrate spells, but Yuuri never had the courage to approach him.
Yuuri took his early life lessons to heart and never showed any hint of his Metamorphmagus and kitsune abilities while in the presence of other students– until Phichit barged into his room while visiting the summer after fourth year and saw Yuuri juggling foxfire in his hands, fox ears twitching on his head. He was hurt that Yuuri would think Phichit would ever say anything or think differently of his best friend (Phichit himself was Muggleborn), but they made up. Phichit was a huge gossip, but not once did he ever mention Yuuri’s secret.
Though he had a rocky start, Yuuri quietly rose to the top of his classes, showing amazing magical proficiency; since Aurors had to be athletic, Yuuri tried out for and got a spot as a player on his House’s Quidditch team. He became sort of a star at school and a lot of people fancied him (including one tiny younger Slytherin who went out of his way to be rude to Yuuri, and even made disparaging comments about Viktor Nikiforov to Yuuri’s face– but only once); Yuuri didn’t notice, he was so focused on his goal. He’d go to Hogsmeade sometimes with Phichit and a few other friends, but spent most of his free time studying and honing his skills so that he could one day meet Viktor on a level playing field.
When Yuuri graduated, he and Phichit went to work for the Ministry of Magic– Yuuri as an Auror in training and Phichit as a researcher (though Yuuri often hung out at the Research department to dabble with spell-making). He and Phichit quickly became Celestino’s favorite newbies. Only the higher-ups knew about Yuuri’s heritage, and planned to keep it that way.
In his third year of Auror training, he was called into Yakov’s office, where a Japanese Ministry official was waiting for him– the Headmistress’ sister. She explained to Yuuri that a Dark witch was gathering power, and if they couldn’t contain her, they might need his help due to his outstanding skillset and unique heritage, and would he please consider helping them? Yuuri secretly wondered if this was the price of learning from the Headmistress, but her sister conveyed that her help had been freely given, and if Yuuri decided to decline the mission, he would still be welcome, always.
He accepted, and received special (brutal) training from Lilia for the deep cover operation he would likely be undertaking, coming in earlier and staying long after the other trainees.
Yuuri finished Auror training at the age of 20; at the graduation banquet, he was too ashamed of his dead last score on the final exam and nervous about his upcoming mission to talk to Viktor Nikiforov, so he drowned his misery in Firewhisky. He woke up the next day in the flat he shared with Phichit with no memory of how he got there, a raging hangover, and a very angry letter from the Head of the Auror Department to basically get his shit together because he was leaving in a few days.
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onceabluemoonwrites · 7 years
Text
Rose-Torn (Rising)
Fandom: Yuri on Ice
Summary:  ‘You rebirthed an angel as the devil. Is it possible for a God to…’’ JJ’s unspoken question hangs in the air. In eerie unison, Yuri and Lilia throw their heads back, laugh short, sharp and high, before looking at him with crimson eyes illuminating the night. “Darling, love has always been a monster.”
Disclaimer: I don’t own Yuri on Ice
FF.net | AO3 | Tumblr (my other entries: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7)
You can find my writing progress here.  If you can’t keep straight who’s what kind of creature anymore, here’s a list, plus some extra background information for those who’d like to read it!
My fic master list here.
This was written for yoifantasyweek ( @yoifantasyweekfor those interested in checking out the other authors) 11/19/17- Day Seven: Black. I used the prompt “Wrath”.
This is part of the Land of Gods and Monsters ‘verse, but can be read as a standalone fic (If you’re curious about what happened to Yuri before this, I recommend reading Heaven Hatred (Falling Down)) .  You can find a note on the chronology of this ‘verse here.
Everything started in the sea, so the legends tell us. In the beginning of time, Hiroko rose from the sea, her volcanoes budding, splitting the ocean. Seafoam splashing as the other Gods rose. Minako, she who pained the sky, she who painted the sun, she who painted the night. Seung-gil, serene at the bottom of his heart, the stormy top tussling the ocean. Phichit, the World-Born, ouroboros, the serpent biting its own tail. Yakov, the first human, immortalized by the Gods, and the nightmare who was born his opposite.
And at long last, the earth split open, and Love was born. The last primordial to come into existence.
The sea lapped at the earthen opening as the God rose from the molten lava, red-hot earth-essence dripping off his frame. His first breath was sparrow-born, birds flying around him. His first step swan-song, black swans joining the choir. The first flutter of his eyelids invented worship, and by god, what a sight it was.
And there, my dear readers, this story begins.
The first thing he asks, language forged by his very lips, is: ‘’Hey, why don’t you dance with me?’’
The first sentence in the entire world, and nobody reacts, because he is love, he cannot exist without communication, and the world needs to learn how to talk back.
But they don’t. No one does.
At least- not to him.
So JJ tries a spin, lifts his feet, and begins to dance on his own.
The Heavens are made by another generation, reigning the primordials in. The play a tune, he dances to it, for no other music is allowed. The wild things are muffled away, and Love is one of them. Jean-Jacques is chained to earth.
He created speech, but no kind word is given to him. He invented worship, yet no creature not made by him gives him a second glance. In the endless expanse of loneliness, he is only accompanied by his feathered friends, who have wings he does not possess. Doves, swans, sparrows surround him as he cultivates, with strong, weathered hands, myrtle and roses from barren ground. What he touches becomes fertile, if only through his sweat, tears and blood alone.
He is a God, but no one follows, so he stands up and builds his own power, softly and quietly, a Divine Monster indeed.
It gives him power. It gives him heart.
The King of Misfits, they call him, the King of Love. He who hurts everybody and is never quite good enough. They don’t recognize his gifts, the soft emotions, the bonds he gives so freely to every creature alive. Steel wrapped in silk, if you will search for it- love is something to fight for, something to hold on to. They war over it, so they must care about it. It’s fine if they do it for his gift only- he’s learned to defend himself by now. He learns to bluster, he learns to be bold, if only on the outside, his heart, his hurting heart, so vulnerable.
And still, when he visits Heaven and hears the whispers behind his back, he cannot help but flinch. The child before him, the angel-teen, looks at them and sneers. There is no grace in it, but by God, it is holy disdain.
“Take it,” Yuri says, his eyes burning embers when JJ flinches once more. “Take their insults, make them yours. You are a King, now act like it."  He does and dreams of an angel with burning wings, pushing him higher, higher than the sky. 
(The swans call him ‘’Le roi’’ from that day forth)
He never forgets the boy with the burning eyes. They haunt his dreams when he sleeps at night, screaming at him: ‘’What the fuck are you doing, you can be better, you can go higher! Why are you waiting for them to notice you, you fucking idiot?!’’
He has to laugh when he wakes up, because an angel talking like that? The King does not believe it. But then again, he has seen stranger things. The dawn of time is an awfully long time ago, after all. Strange, how the company in his dreams makes his laughter less hollow.
The clouds turn red, a sea of fire in the sky. JJ gasps as they scatter, a speck at the horizon bursting through. A dark silhouette, a boy-man falling, cradled in blackened, burned wings.
Shadows dance across the sky, but it is no despair the picture paints. No, the boy’s arms are stretched out, his head thrown into his neck as he laughs, the sound of his madness resounding over the plains of Earth. Blond hair flying around his face, white skin unblemished, limbs arched, muscles strained to the top of his ability.
Ecstasy must be the name of this creature.
JJ is speechless, his words stolen by the man falling from the Heavens.
This… this is beyond holy grace.
The ground shakes as Yuri lands. The force should have caused his body to break, but he is no glass-hearted angel, he is a diamond with a heart of fire, unbreakable, eternal, his only fear the fire dying, so rage on he must.
He feeds the fire. He feels it in his feet, in his blood, in his bones.
Breathing heavily, he pushes himself up, raking the hair out of his face as sweat rolls off his back. Rolling over, he looks at the sky. Reaching up, he grins, teeth exposed. One day, all of that will be his.
Lying in a crater, wings turned black, Yuri’s chest bursts- his very heart rising to the sky.
One day.
He crawls through the deepest, darkest caverns on earth, to the place where lava flows freely and the air burns his lungs.
There he finds her. Lilith, the mother of all monsters, her hair as black as her soul. She’s facing the flowing stone, alight in red-glow.
‘’Teach me,’’ he breathes.
She turns around, sharp green eyes glaring him down as she raises her hand. Cupping his cheek, she speaks. ‘’Sell your soul. Pander it off to me.’’
Her voice is like a whiplash, harsh, severe and bruising.
‘’Whatever the cost, if it means victory, if it means soaring higher than the heavens and above, then I will gleefully sell my body and soul to you.’’
She nods, her chin a knife. ‘’Call me Lilia.’’
And that’s it.
She births him anew. An Angel, heaven-forsaken, Lucifer he becomes. The Morningstar has always been the brightest, and also the first to fall.
Yuri needs to learn how to dance with the devil, and who would be a better teacher than Lilia for that?
(The nightmare born Yakov’s opposite, the heavens call her. Yuri knows why. Calling her a bad dream is easier than facing the terrifying reality of her strength)
JJ sees Yuri fall- sees him learn to dance as devil on the ground in order to ascend. He thinks: hey, that’s a nice tune! And dances along.
The new rhythm, the new regime… He can deal with that.
Something wretched but beautiful blooms like a rose underneath his skin.
(He has spent too many hours staring longingly at the heavens, at their celebrations far and wide, knowing Love was not invited for he only broke hearts.
‘’Why give a gift,’’ he can hear them whisper, ‘’only to wrench it from us?’’
And it poisons his heart and mind, because can’t you see? I am not death- not even Love can survive without nourishment.)
The saccharine smell of flowers spreads.
Yuri crowns himself the Ruler of Hell, and while Jean-Jacques has no guarantees at all, ‘’Take it,’’ echoes within his mind.
He listens.
The angel is draped over his throne, youthful face crowned by his golden hair, red eyes shining in the dark.
‘’Boy Love,’’ Yuri laughs, ‘’Have you come to join my court?’’
JJ does not say: angels cannot have courts.
JJ does not say: what have you become?
JJ does not say: You are the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen.
JJ says: ‘’If you’ll have me.’’
Lilia is an enigma and JJ… JJ can’t resist asking.
He swallows. ‘’You rebirthed an angel as the devil. Is it possible for a God to…’’
His unspoken question hangs in the air.
In eerie unison, Yuri and Lilia throw their heads back, laugh short, sharp and high, before looking at him with crimson eyes illuminating the night.
‘’Darling, love has always been a monster.’’
A sirensong is audible above the waves, and it is as if the bells of hell are ringing. Out with the old, in with the new! They scream.
If the Ship-sinker can sing his sailor home, then the world must watch in wonder.
While all eyes are on the reunion, Yuri sets the heavens on fire (white dresses burning).
Marble is pretty, but the slightest acid devours it. Why would the rich soil grow lemons if not to ruin Heaven’s halls?
The Primordial Lovers reunite, but Love followed the Devil to Hell.
Lightning splashes across the sky, and Heaven might be ruined, but Yuri flies too high, and it smites him.
Icarus, he is, wax wings melting, dripping to the earth like raindrops as he falls. His eyes flash red before he loses unconsciousness, eyelids covering the glow of Hell’s bells ringing. His limbs fold to the wind, a ragdoll tossed wherever by the storm.
Lilia cries, screams in fury, but they chain her down, iron manacles biting into her skin. They freeze her, an ice sculpture of sin and sadness. Yakov the Immortal comes to her, his hands trailing over her face, tears dripping down his wizened face. And just like that, the primordial that was not supposed to be one, clenches his fists and goes searching for his pitchfork.
Humanity is good at carrying torches, and he still holds one for her.
JJ stands in the rain, forgotten as always, but accusing eyes searching for him. The roses underneath his skin grow, their thorns showing. He runs across the plains, across the mountains, across the cities and the valleys. And there, in the place of his birth, the flow of magma he was born from, he catches Yuri as he hurtles down.
Cradling the Devil in your lap, what a concept. Carding his hands through golden strands, Jean-Jacques admires the black horns and heals Yuri’s wings by breathing. Sometimes even Lucifer is vulnerable, but JJ will carry Yuri all of his days. On his broken back, if he must.
Love and War have always been entangled, and this will not stop now. It is about living in the moment, about admiring what is there right now, no matter what may come, what may be lost later. It’s about what has been lost and learning to live with it.
That is what this love is.
Catching Yuri was a choice. There is no going back.
Monsters gather in the midst of Gods.  What were the Heavens? They ask. Who put them in place? Who- who made this atrocity happen? They stare at smoking ruins, no answers coming forth.
Some of them turn to power, in all forms, to war.
This is how JJ meets Christophe. The manticore licks his lips. "Not enough- I want more. Oh, won’t you play a game with me?”
JJ’s face hardens, a grin sneaking through his mask. ‘’Oh, I will play you.’’
He reaches into his skin, reaches into his heart, and stretches his arms above his head. He crowns himself with a wreath of thorns. He is the king, le roi, and it is time he makes them acknowledge that.
Yuri wakes, on his head a crown of roses wound from Love’s heart. Laid down on a bed of myrtle, surrounded by the whole wide world gazing at his wounds, but never touching. They’re there, all of them, but he has eyes only for one person.
He rises from his dwelling place, stands on his own legs, and speaks as words should be spoken.
‘’Love, what I want is not anarchy- I need the right of the strongest! I need to soar above all others! Enter the competition, Jean-Jacques. Play the Game of Gods and Monsters!’’
With worship in his eyes, swansong in his feet and sparrows surrounding him, JJ kneels as he yields to war forever. ‘’I will.’’
Yuri lifts his head and smiles, reaching for JJ’s shoulder with certainty betrayed by the trembling of his hands. ‘’Angels only fall for Love. But Love be with the Devil, who would have thought?’’
JJ rises and seals his lips over the Morningstar’s.
Revolution, is their name.
“I think this business of good vs. evil is of no interest to the power hungry”  ― Bangambiki Habyarimana, Pearls Of Eternity
Author’s Note
The Pliroy came out of nowhere and kidnapped this fic.
The ‘’Sell your soul’’ exchange was planned, but then I remembered canon… And went to watch the scene and found out it was so much like what I had in mind. The dialogue is, as a result, very much like the dialogue in their actual first meeting.
Aphrodite is the Godess JJ is based on in this case. Swans, sparrows, doves, myrtle and roses are all her symbols.
I likened Yuri to Icarus, but far more accurate would be to liken him to Phaeton- but I did not because I doubt everybody would know that name.
Lilith was Adam’s first wife, and has been seen as a demon in many incarnations. She also separated from him and refused to go back. In this case, Yakov was based on Adam. Him ‘’carrying the torch’’ was a deliberate movement of war- the flaming torch is one of Ares’ symbols.
Isabella, whose name means “pledged to God”, is one of JJ’s black swans. She’s the first one who calls him le roi.
Aphrodite’s (JJ) different birth was inspired by an absolutely gorgeous piece of Dark Souls fanart by Laura K Cannon ( @laurenkcannon for those who want to see more of her gorgeous art) . You can find the art on the artist’s tumblr here. 
And the post in which it was mistakenly referred to as Aphrodite here. 
Songs I listened to while writing this:
Beautiful monster – Ne-Yo (Yuri’s theme song in this installment)
Woman by Kesha.
Hell’s Bells by Gregorian
My Heart Will Go On by Gregorian
Le roi means the king in French. It’s a play on “Leroy” and French is considered the language of love. 
I made mention of the doves only early in the story because, quite obviously, there was no peace later.
Writing this verse was an absolute joy and I hope you guys enjoyed this journey too!
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kumikirin · 8 years
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Winner Kisses
Otayuri Week 2017, Day 2: Social Media or Celebrations
Yuri Plisetsky had never had something he considered his ‘own way of celebrating’. It’s on his senior debut, the day he seizes gold after his exhausting and complex Allegro Appassionato in B Minor, when he finally gets what will then become his own, unique way of celebrating with a very specific person. 
Or: Otabek thinks kissing is a good way to congratulate his friend.
Warning(s): Nothing to be scared of. Platonic kissing, romantic kissing. Heavy romantic kissing at the end. Yuri’s fifteen almost sixteen at the start, and around seventeen by the end.
Notes: I had this absurd idea of Otabek kissing Yuri to congratulate him because he'd seen Viktor do it with Yuuri; OtaYuri Week just gave me the perfect excuse to write it down. I just wanted to have my boys kissing a lot, that's it, I didn't have deeper reasons to write this. Kissing is good, let them kiss. Cross-posted in AO3! Beta-ed by @life-of-an-ak-fangirl  ♥ thank you!
Everyone in this world has their own way of celebrating, be it alone or with others. More specifically, everyone in the skating world has their own way of celebrating victories. Some people make gestures, just like JJ Leroy with his silly hand signs or Otabek Altin with his tendency to put his fists in the air. Some people jump or scream to let the euphoria out, like Minami Kenjirou. Some people need to hug someone else and squeeze as hard as their adrenalin-high allows them, or their need for reassurance after all the stress of the performance in Yuuri Katsuki’s case. Some people leap at each other like Sara Crispino and Mila Babicheva do after a particularly good program, and some people cry as they're unable to contain that much emotion as seen in Georgi Popovich’s or Phichit Chulanont’s case. Other people reward themselves with a tasty treat or a drink like Viktor Nikiforov, Yuuri Katsuki and Michele Crispino are known to do, and some people just bask in the roaring sound of a crowd congratulating them as Christophe Giacometti does while waving at his fans. Some people, in a weird and undefined and usually unexpected celebration, do all of the previous things at the same time.
In his case, he’d never had a specific way of doing it.
Yuri Plisetsky had never had something he considered his ‘own way of celebrating’, only maybe crying a couple of times after nailing a particularly difficult or exhausting performance. But even that had been just a handful of occasions, as he isn't exactly the type to easily show that level of emotion.
It’s on his senior debut, the day he seizes gold after his exhausting and complex Allegro Appassionato in B Minor, when Yuri Plisetsky finally begins what will then become his own, unique way of celebrating with a very specific person.
• •
The first time they do it is right after Yuri finishes his FS on the day of the Grand Prix Final. Lilia had been one hell of a choreographer and tutor, she had pushed him to his limits until he could barely stand up without shaking like a newborn deer at the end of the day, and he’s proud to say all his effort and hard work has paid off in the end; so proud of his achievements and so fucking proud of himself that he can't help but fall to his knees and start bawling right there in the middle of the rink, now that all has ended and every bit of stress and anxiousness and fear comes crashing down on him along with a wave of relief because it's finally over, he fucking did it.
The crowd roars to life to show their support, amazed by his growth as an athlete and by the display of talent he just showed them. He knows people expect a lot from him and hopes he could meet their standards, hopes he could make his grandfather proud, that he could show Viktor and Yuuri how much he’s learned in the last months, and that he could surprise Otabek.
In between the screams and cries from the public, the chants of ‘Yuratchka’ coming from his crazy but still somewhat lovely fans, he recognizes Viktor and Yuuri yelling his name with delight and cheeriness that he deems a little excessive coming from the competition, but makes him all warm inside nonetheless. He can’t help the exhilarated smile that forms on his lips when he locks eyes with his self-proclaimed parents, barely being able to cover it with his hands over his mouth while the tears keep on falling in wet trails down his cheeks, red from exertion and from crying.
And, as he fully pries his hands from his face and prepares to get up and head to the Kiss and Cry, a deep and already familiar voice catches his ear.
“Yuri!” The sound of his name said by that man makes his chest feel like it's filled with a thousand feathers, floating around and tickling his insides. Yuri’s head instantly shoots up in the direction of the voice, and he’s met with the blurry sight of Otabek Altin, his hands cupping around his mouth so as to help his voice reach him. As soon as their eyes meet Otabek extends his arms and Yuri, moving on instinct, gets up in a hurry and half skates, half sprints towards him. The last meter or so is cut by Yuri leaping at Otabek and tangling his arms around his neck, where he also buries his face. Otabek raises him in his arms, a couple of centimeters from the floor, and stumbles back to regain balance. “You were fantastic,” he says, and Yuri sobs loudly. Otabek squeezes him in his arms, and Yuri is faintly aware of the fact that he’s trying to push down that red and pink stuff on his shoulder with his chin.
“Otabek, fuck,” he chokes, trying to get his crying to stop, “I did it,” he manages to get out of his trembling lips, and after a short moment he pulls away from his friend to look at him, barely a couple of centimeters apart, “I did it.”
“Yeah,” Otabek muses, smiling a soft, private smile that makes his eyes look smaller and gentler. He lowers Yuri to the ground and carefully wipes away the tears falling down his left cheek, “You most certainly did.”
Yuri doesn’t know how it happened, only that when he noticed Otabek was leaning towards him it was already a little bit too late. His eyes grow wide with shock as their lips touch, firm and warm and wet and salty, and in a blink of an eye it’s over. Yuri almost falls back, his brain just now catching up.
“W-what-?” he fights to make the question leave his lips, but in the end he’s left just standing there with the words still hanging from his tongue, cheeks stained the brightest red and accusatory eyes glued to his friend.
Otabek looks at him like he doesn’t understand a thing. The place is deadly silent.
“Oh, sorry,” he says after a moment, but it’s obvious he’s just being polite because he still clearly doesn’t understand what he just did. “Viktor did it to congratulate Katsuki.”
And that’s Otabek Altin’s only explanation on why he kissed Yuri Plisetsky after his program.
Well, Yuri thinks, it wasn’t in the Kiss and Cry, but it was the first time that he actually kissed and cried while waiting for his score.
 • •
After the GPF come Nationals, and then Euros for Yuri and Four Continents for Otabek, so it’s three months later when they get to see each other again. Worlds at Helsinki comes around with new programs, but no matter how excited Yuri had been to show Otabek his most recent routines, how masterfully he glided over the ice with polished movements, how proudly he finished his performance with his chin pointed up or how sure he was he’d secured a place in the podium when he got the highest score yet, he finds himself staring wide eyed at Otabek when he skates out into the ice right after him. His program is a powerful and elegant display, much better than the ones he’d seen in person and watched in video. He’s precise, delicate in a way you wouldn’t think he could be if you met him out of the rink, and it renders Yuri speechless.
This time it’s Yuri’s turn to receive Otabek at the edge of the ice, arms spread wide open to catch him in a hug that brings their thumping hearts as close as it’s physically possible.
“That was awesome!” Yuri breathes out, still marvelled at the way Otabek’s perfectly coordinated steps and powerful jumps play repeatedly in his mind. He’s never been good with words, so he stumbles to find a way to express the way Otabek’s wonderful performance had made his blood pump with an excitement he’s long since last felt while watching another skater. “Beka, you’re incredible.”
“Thanks,” never one for many words and decidedly better at making himself understood with gestures, Otabek quirks his lips in a soft smile meant only for Yuri, and it tells way more than a whole speech could.
When Otabek snatches the gold, leaving Yuri taking silver while wondering how someone who had missed the podium barely three months ago could improve so much in such a short time, it’s Yuri’s turn to celebrate with him.
He doesn’t care about the cameras, and definitely doesn’t care about what Yakov will yell at him after this. He just grabs the lace Otabek’s medal is tied with around his neck, and pulls. Their lips meet in a press that’s weirdly warm in between the coldness of the rink.
They part shortly after, when Yuri stops tugging. Otabek looks surprised, but not too much. It’s natural, Yuri thinks, since he’d done something similar at the GPF.
“Yura?” is his way of asking for an explanation.
“You owed me from last Grand Prix,” is Yuri’s reply, as he thinks Otabek shouldn’t need to be explained. Then he smirks, “You didn’t think I’d walk out of here without taking my gold, did you?”
Otabek stares at him with those deep dark eyes of his, then huffs through his nose and turns back to the cameras. Yuri knows if they were alone together that would’ve been a laugh.
 • •
The couple of months between Worlds and the Grand Prix are peppered with short visits to St. Petersburg and Almaty, and somewhere in between kissing each other becomes almost like a second nature, something that feels just right to do. When they hit the rink one Sunday before Yuri goes back to Russia and he manages to perfectly land his new triple-quad jump combo for the first time, he leaps into Otabek’s arms and kisses him. When Otabek gets invited for a two-week training under Yakov to improve his skills, they celebrate his arrival at the airport with smiling mouths pressed together. When Yuri gets the highest score in one of his tests, Otabek takes his face between his hands and Yuri relaxes against his lips. When they make a quick escapade to an arcade and win a challenge to a Dance Dance Revolution match, they both delve into a kiss. When they are placed together at the Rostelecom cup they send each other a kiss emoji, and go for the real thing the moment Otabek arrives at the hotel. When they both place in the podium with silver and bronze, they wait until they’re side by side again for Yuri to thread his fingers in Otabek’s undercut, and their medals clink with the press of their chests coming together for the mandatory kiss.
When they get to the Final and Yuri takes a nasty fall that costs him his bronze while Otabek once again misses the podium, they still share a kiss in the changing rooms.
They also kiss when they part ways the next day, returning to their respective countries to start over and prepare for the Olympics. There’s nothing to celebrate this time, but neither of them says a thing about that.
 • •
Old Man Viktor and his Piggy Fiancé become Old Man Viktor and his Piggy Husband after Yuuri finally managed to take gold at the GPF.
Yuri had never suspected himself to be the kind of person to get emotional over a wedding, but seeing Viktor and Yuuri seal their love with a kiss made his lips tingle in a pleasant way, and he found he felt all warm inside. He would wonder the reason behind that reaction if it weren’t because he finds himself staring at Otabek’s lips so openly the man turns around to look at him. It dawns on him that maybe, somewhere between their first kiss and today, he’s sort of started liking Otabek’s kisses more and more. That maybe he wants to kiss him without needing a reason to. That maybe he doesn’t just like Otabek’s kisses, but him as a whole.
He’s not that surprised when he finds himself pinning Otabek against a wall a couple of hours later during the reception, lips pressed hard against his. It doesn’t stop after the first one, the kisses just become more urgent and leave them both panting from the lack of proper breathing, even if they’re just pecking each other’s lips with a little too much force.
Otabek breathes heavily when Yuri finally parts for long enough, fingers grabbing his narrow hips in an attempt to steady them both. He doesn’t question the taste of champagne on the blond’s lips.
“What are we celebrating?” he asks instead.
Yuri doesn’t think his words carefully, much more occupied on caressing Otabek’s cheekbones with his thumbs.
“That I realized I want to kiss you for no reason at all,” he looks at Otabek’s lips and then right into his eyes, expectant.
Otabek leans down and bites his lower lip, licks it in a way that Yuri never thought he’d find sexy but he does, and their tongues meet for the first time. Also for the first time, Yuri allows his hands to snake their way around Otabek’s neck as they kiss, leaning into him as the Kazakh’s hands slide up his back and press him against his body.
“I can work with that,” Otabek whispers, and after that kiss there’s no need for more words. Yuri is feeling lightheaded, but he still tugs Otabek down for another one of those deep kisses.
They spend the rest of the night locked up in Otabek’s room, kissing without saying a word.
 • •
“How are we going to celebrate now?” Yuri asks the next morning, when he finds himself laying in bed with his head over Otabek’s chest, his hair being petted slowly with careful strokes.
Otabek grunts in response, not having thought about that. Do they really need to change it?
“I guess I can think of some ways,” he says after a moment, but nothing is coming to mind. Not like he’s really trying, he feels too relaxed to put his mind at work.
Yuri slides the pads of his fingers over Otabek’s pectorals. Summer in Japan is hot, but they’re still pressed together, having changed into the thinnest tank tops they could find and proceeding then to comfortably snuggle. It’s not the first time they do something like this, so it’s not weird at all, even with the unexpected turn their relationship took last night.
Yuri rolls to the side and lies on his back, but his hand goes to touch Otabek again, this time caressing his cheek. It’s not long before Otabek gets up on his forearm and leans down to kiss him again, hovering over him just enough so that their chests barely touch. Yuri wonders if there’s such a thing as a kiss addiction, because if there is he’s starting to think he’s got it.
Being who he is, Yuri opens his phone camera and snaps a photo, mildly thinking about posting it on Instagram because he’s kissing Otabek fucking Altin and everyone in the world should know how lucky he is.
The camera makes a sound, though, and Otabek slowly pries their lips apart with a soft sound that’s starting to be Yuri’s favorite sound ever. He absolutely does not instinctively pout at the loss.
Otabek takes Yuri’s hand on his own and twists it carefully, then proceeds to attentively study the picture.
“Yura, that looks like we already found another way to celebrate,” he finally states. He doesn’t look like it, but he’s amused. Yuri frowns slightly and turns the phone screen towards himself.
“What-?” Yuri takes a look at the picture and for a second he doesn’t understand. Then it suddenly dawns on him. After all, Otabek is practically laying over him, obviously in bed, and with Yuri’s hair sprawled all over and his arms hooking around Otabek’s shoulders and covering the tank top’s straps it looks like they’re not wearing anything at all. He laughs. “You pervert,” he can’t help the smile that comes to his lips. The thought of doing that with Otabek hadn’t even crossed his mind, and though it is a little embarrassing he finds it rather amusing. “We’ve been dating for like five hours, control yourself,” he jokes.
Otabek slowly lifts his head, a smirk in place that has Yuri’s smile faltering and his whole body tensing up, because that look on Otabek’s eyes doesn’t augur anything good. He lifts an eyebrow and Yuri knows he’s doomed.
“Dating?” he simply asks.
Fuck.
Yuri scrambles to get up, but ends up rolling over Otabek and awkwardly half sitting on his lap, the back of his thighs feeling the hard bone of Otabek’s hips pushing against his skin. He tries to get up but Otabek’s holding him by the hips, smirk still in place.
“... uh,” Yuri eloquently states, and promptly looks down to where his palms are uncomfortably pressing over Otabek’s ribs, trying to find a way to escape his mortification. He can feel the hot blush creeping up his neck and blooming in his cheeks like angry red verbenas. “I… thought…” he mumbles, not really sure of how to finish that sentence without further embarrassing himself.
Otabek seems to take pity on him, moving his hands towards his thighs and sliding them slowly up to his hips again, a gentle caress that’s supposed to take some of the tension away. Yuri looks up just enough to throw a tentative look at him, and finds such a tender, deep affection in Otabek’s eyes he can’t help but feel all warm and tingly inside.
“Are you asking me out, Plisetsky?” Otabek playfully asks, rubbing his thumbs over Yuri’s hips in soothing circles. He’s fucking teasing.
Yuri’s blush stays even when a grin spreads on his face. How is it possible to feel embarrassed and smug at the same time? Is there a word for that?
“I might be,” he answers, intending to sound just as playful as Otabek but not quite managing it because of his still present embarrassment. “What are you gonna do about it, Altin?”
Altin just smiles, brings his right hand to the back of Yuri’s head and pulls him down while at the same time pushing himself up from the bed with his left arm. Because of the unexpected force, Yuri’s elbows give in and both his forearms end up pressed over Otabek’s torso, trapped against it and his own chest. He relaxes and just melts against him, against that tongue that works wonders in his mouth and makes him forget about his nervousness, against that warm skin and those fingers threading his hair. He’s pretty light, so he’s sure Otabek can hold them both up with the strength of his arm and abs.
At some point Otabek hugs him close and shifts them both so they end up laying on their sides, but Yuri’s too lightheaded and focused on the kissing to actually care about anything else. What started as a slow and loving touch evolves into fervent and deep, while legs tangle and arms start caressing backs and sides and necks and napes and almost everything they can reach.
They’re panting when they finally part, eyes heavily lidded and lips reddened. Yuri lovingly runs a thumb over Otabek’s cheek and he smiles.
“Okay, you convinced me,” Otabek whispers, because the moment is too intimate for louder words, “You have a boyfriend now. As long as you keep kissing me like that.”
Yuri replies with a smile of his own and yet another deep kiss, shorter than last time but still passionate and careful.
“Maybe we should stick to celebration kisses,” Otabek pants when they part a little, beautiful brown eyes staring openly at Yuri’s swollen lips.
It only takes a moment before he leans down to bite Yuri’s lips, and the boy gasps.
“Yeah,” he won’t ever acknowledge the way his voice wavers with that simple word, “Yeah, we could do that.”
He holds Otabek’s jaw and goes for another kiss, one much softer than the previous ones, that turns into something like an uninterrupted sequence of open-mouthed pecks. He could do this for the rest of his life.
JJ can keep his hand signs, Yuuri can keep his katsudon, Mila and Sara can keep their hugs.
Yuri has his own way of celebrating now, and it’s the best way he could have ever hoped for.
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werederg · 9 months
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Bloodborne DND time babey!
Today’s Topic: NPC spotlight!
Yakov the Feathered!
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This is him. My boy, my man. Yakov the Feathered!
Yakov is my take on the OG hunter of hunters. The exact quote from the gear is “The first Hunter of Hunters came from a foreign land, and gave the dead a virtuous native funeral ritual, rather than impose a blasphemous Yharnam burial service upon them.” So obviously Yakov comes from a foreign land, and for the native funeral ritual I have taken inspiration from the burial practices of Zoroastrianism, where a body is left out in the open for animals to feed on and for nature to reclaim. I chose this partially because it was one of my first thoughts and also because I think it adds to the horror if Yakov casually hangs out around rotting corpses being picked on by birds.
In the physical world of Yharnam, Yakov will first appear in the place Eileen normally does. He is notably different in temperament than Eileen. Eileen is somewhat kind and encouraging to the hunter when they find her, seeming understanding and sympathetic, giving helpful items to the hunter. Yakov by contrast is dismissive and standoffish. The first line of dialogue I have for him is:
“Fly away from my perch, little hatchlings. You’re much too wet behind the ears to be my prey quite yet.”
I kinda leaned into the whole bird themeing because this would be the man who made the damn bird costumes so I feel like it would be a thing for him. I like this as intro dialogue because it is dismissive of the players but it also prompts questions from the players about what exactly he means.
Yakov has so much lore and kinda complicated motivations, he’s my second oldest NPC for this setting but definitely the one I’ve worked on the most. So backstory for him!
Despite what the name might imply Yakov does not have a Russian accent mostly because I can’t do one consistently anymore. He has a British accent (which I’ve been practicing lmao) which is short hand in the setting for someone who is either from Yharnam or has been there long enough to pick up the native accent.
Yakov has been in Yharnam since before the hunt and the church was in full power. He met a woman who was traveling in his homeland and fell in love with her and decided to move to Yharnam to be with her. Her name is Bonnie.
Yakov lived in Yharnam with Bonnie through the start of the scourge, before Old Yharnam burned down, when the church was still trying to keep everything that was happening a secret. Both Yakov and Bonnie were aware something not quite right was going on, especially once the hunt officially started after the burning of Old Yharnam. Yakov was very distrustful of the church at the time especially as they seemed to know more than they let on about the scourge.
At some point Bonnie becomes pregnant and Yakov begins to think that perhaps Yharnam is not the place to raise a child, but Bonnie scolds him for the idea that he would abandon the people of Yharnam when they are in need of help. Yakov is an honorable man who believes in helping those in need. The night they have an argument about this however, Bonnie goes for a walk to clear her head and never comes back. It is not clear what happens to her.
Yakov is devastated, but he knows he needs to be the person his wife believed he was, someone who would help the people of Yharnam even if the people didn’t yet understand that it might be their very own church putting them in danger, as Yakov believes.
Yakov then joins the hunters workshop to be better equipped and have more access to investigate the inner workings of Yharnam and the healing church. He is brought out of his grief by some of the kinship he finds with other hunters, many of whom also with the best of intentions to help the people of Yharnam.
I’ll probably add more hunters that Yakov knew back then in the future but the main important one is Ahmed. Yakov and Ahmed are very close during their time as hunters. It is a deeply homoerotic relationship, but not explicitly homosexual as Yakov is still mourning his wife.
Ahmed is also a foreigner. His people are normally pacifists except for in extreme circumstances, which Ahmed believed Yharnam was in.
They hunt for a period of time, Ahmed not quite knowing about Yakov’s investigation into the church as Yakov worries it will put people in danger if they know about him opposing the church. Eventually, Ahmed discovers the old hunters DLC, a place where hunters seem to have lost their minds, trapped in a constant cycle of mindless violence. Ahmed is terrified that this is a fate that will befall him and that it will disgrace his family and ancestors for him to become a mindless killer. Ahmed makes Yakov promise that Yakov will not let Ahmed end up in that nightmare and they go about trying to understand what it is in the first place.
They together with some of their other hunter friends come to understand the phenomenon of “blood drunk hunters” and as time passes, one by one all of the hunters that Yakov knows start to show signs of going blood drunk, some slowly some quickly, eventually they all fall and are all claimed by the nightmare, including Ahmed. Yakov is powerless to stop them.
But after these losses, and the way the city has been degrading over time, Yakov decides that the people of Yharnam can not be saved. The beasthood can not be prevented or cured and things just see to be getting worse and Yakov has lost every one he has ever cared about in the city.
He sets his sights on blood drunk hunters, determined to prevent any more of his siblings in arms being claimed by the nightmare. He can’t keep his promise to Ahmed, but he can do what he can to stop any more hunters from hurting people and becoming lost in a waking nightmare.
This is how Yakov becomes the first hunter of hunters.
He is, by the time the players meet him, a very sad man. He has shut himself off from caring about anyone else because of everything he’s lost and has dedicated himself to his work of watching hunters, tracking signs of blood drunkenness, and taking them out before they can hurt anyone or be claimed by the nightmare. He works with other hunters who he has brought into the same cause but he remains distant from them.
I’m toying with the idea that there is something special about the blades of mercy that untethers hunters from the dream, because otherwise why would they not just reawaken in the dream, the other option is that once hunters become fully blood drunk their connection to the dream is automatically severed and there is a short window of time to kill them before they are claimed by the nightmare. I’m not sure yet.
There are two other hunters of hunters that Yakov collaborates with so far for the game. And they go by bird themed code names. Both because I think that’s fun and because I think that it would make sense that the church would not condone the work these hunters do and if the church knows your full name they can destroy your contract, which presumably is what gives you access to the hunters dream, an act that would basically kill you in the long term.
The two other hunters of hunters will come up in later NPC posts, shorter ones lmao.
Not sure if this is everything for Yakov, so if you have any questions or thoughts please let me know! Yakov is one of my fav NPC’s so far and I’d love to talk about him.
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creme13rulee · 7 years
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Deep Within My Bones Ch.3- The Kiss
AU. Viktor wins another gold at the Olympics, and attends the Paralympics as another duty as the King of Ice Skating. Having lost his inspiration and heart, Viktor did not expect to find love in what he sees as the perfect man. Yuuri, after losing his legs, lost his chance to compete on the same ice as his idol. When the world seems to fall into place, what else can be taken away from them?
The neon sign glowed blue into the cold night air. Viktor could see his breathe fog and drift up into the light. He had used Christophe as an excuse, telling himself that he needed to let his friend socialize for a little longer. Long enough for Viktor to get another drink, steel his nerve…and order a car to the restaurant. It wasn’t that far, but wasn’t about to trek through the packed snow and cold. He would appear warm, every hair in place. Perfect.
For Yuuri.
His own Yuri had left with Yakov earlier. The boy was too old for a curfew, but he had probably worked out some excuse to get out of it.
Probably blaming it on Viktor.
They hadn’t spoken since they watched this new Yuuri skate on the ice.
Cristophe pushed open the door, gently waving backwards, shooing Viktor inside. It was almost as dark as the outside, most of the lighting warm candlelight. The walls were dark wood, and the warmth was a welcome relief.  Even though lately Viktor preferred going out and feeling the sting of the cold.
The cold immediately melted away at the sight of him.
He was smiling, his ears and nose still red from the cold. And perhaps the glasses of champagne he had gulped down less than an hour before.   When was the last time Viktor had seen a smile reach someones eyes? When had one of those smiles been directed at him? After 5 gold medals.. no, after 3, the smiles had become more forced on either end. There were only so many records you could break until you went from groundbreaker to someone to break down. His stomach filled with longing, heavy and burning. He had barely talked to this boy, but he wanted the smile to be for him. Not for someone who he had easy crushed in the semi-finals.
Where was this coming from?
Phichit was the reason why he was here. The Thai skater was a friend, not an enemy. He had to remember this. Said man raised a hand, greeting them. Yuuri turned, following Phichits gaze, his doe-like eyes widening. Viktor felt his pulse quicken. But Yuuri didn’t run. Perhaps it was the extra alcohol, or the fact that the seating was benches and kept him from moving quickly.
It didn’t matter.
Viktor easily slid on his smile, moving before he quickly overtook Chris.
“Sorry to make you wait.”  Viktor offered a sad nod toward Phichit, who wasn’t even looking at him. He was watching Yuuri, who stared as Viktor sat beside him, starry-eyed and agape.
He looked even more perfect up close. The way his eyebrows arched perfectly. His jaw line, how his inky black hair feathered around his ear.
But most of all, the grace and strength he held, while also looking like he could be easily crushed in a cold hand.
Viktor had been watching too many Harlequin romance movies.
“No worries, we just got here, right Yuuri?” Phichit barely contained his smirk, which was good, because everyone was watching Viktor and Yuuri.
“Right, Yuuri.”  Yuri echoed dreamily, still staring agape at Viktor. He grew pinker when the king of ice  laughed, radiating the flirt he was famous with the press for.
A waitress stopped by with a basket of warm buttery bread. Viktor watched as  Yuuri woozily doled out a soft roll to each of their plates before his own. He could feel the English he wanted to speak slipping through his fingers like a fine sand. The words fell faster the longer he watched the skater beside him close his eyes, his dark and thick eyelashes against his cheek as he sunk his teeth into the bread.
He had been watching way, way too many movies.
“Thank you for coming out. Yuuri’s a big fan. We didn’t know you were coming out for the Paralympic games.” Phichit interjected after a period of quiet  that Viktor had felt perfectly fine with.
“I didn’t know either. It was a last minute decision. But I’m glad I came.”
Apparently it hadn’t been last minute, but Yakov knew better than to ask (or tell) Viktor anything on the eve of a competition.
“I am too.”  Yuuri said softly, rolling the remainder of the bread between his fingers. “I wish I had been able to do better. I was distracted.”
Distracting, more like it. Viktor tried to keep his thoughts to  holier territory.
“I think it was beautiful.” Viktor murmured, and he hit the target. Yuuri jolted like an arrow had hit his heart, the remaining bread between his fingers squished into a pancake as red overtook the sweet mans face.
“Not as much as you. Y—y-your….oh…” Yuuri stammered, trailing off. It was Viktors turn to be stabbed in the heart. But he had no idea if it was Cupid’s arrow or just the feeling of no longer numbing himself to his heart.
Phichit  dropped the menu from his hands onto the table to hide his own snicker.  Yuuri looked up from his lap, back to his best friend. “Oh… order.” Words were coming hard to him, too.
“I already told the waitress to give us the special.” Pichit smiled. “I didn’t want a repeat of what happened on Monday!” The easy smile came back to Yuuri’s face, and the two friends laughed with such ease that Viktor felt lonely. Chris tilted his head to the side, showing enough curiosity to continue the conversation.
“Oh!  Me and Yuuri went out for lunch, but we didn’t charge our phones!  They died right as we got there, and we couldn’t use any of our apps !  We spent an hour trying to  figure out what to eat before Yuuri remembered how to  say breakfast!”
“I don’t know what we ate, but it was really  good.” Yuuri murmured, his accent thicker than it had been several drinks ago.
“So since then, we decided to leave the menu to the chef.” Phichit said confidently. Yuuri yawned adorably. The six hour time difference wasn’t as bad as the time difference between home and Detroit… But the warm bread, and the warmth sat beside him (and maybe the champagne) was making it harder to adjust. Even with sleeping until the hour before practice.
The technique was flawless. Viktor had the best food he had in a while, warm meat on fresh greens. The wine pairing was phenomenal. He felt sated enough to conduct the usual interview: how was Sochi, how did it feel to have gold again.
“What’s next?” Phichit asked, and Viktor knew he expected “Worlds” or some other simple answer.
But nothing came.
Just as it had since Viktor had bottled up the last few drops left in his desiccated soul into  Stammi Vicino.
What was next?
“Yuutopia.” Yuuri murmured sleepily, his head heavy on his hand. He looked ready to fall asleep at the table, but he kept his eyes dutifully on whoever was talking.
“Yuutopia?” Viktor repeated. He flipped through the dictionary in his head, but came up short. It wasn’t English.
“My parents hot springs. I haven’t been home since Obon. “ Yuuri said  in the same sleepy tone.
Viktor couldn’t bear it. He scooted closer, enough that their thights touched on the dark wooden bench. He didn’t notice.
“You should visit. Japanese hot springs are the best.” He said it so dreamily, that Viktor immediately considered pulling out his phone and checking ticket prices.
“You’ll get to see Vicchan again, too.” Pichit said, moving the remaining food around on his plate. Figuring out which filter that would best show off this meal would have to wait.
“Vicchan…” Yuuri cooed softly, the starry-eyed doe look returning to his face. Viktor frowned. He had heard it before, but it was before the translator had arrived to assist his interview with Skate Japan  and Shoujo Shuukan.
“Mari-nee-chan sent me this picture.” Yuuri said with the same soft coo, pulling out his own phone and unlocking it.  He went into his library, mostly selfies of Yuuri and Phichit, as well as some of the other skaters Viktor had seen earlier that day. He watched as the Yuuri tapped, pulling up a photo of a miniature Makkachin, dressed up in a weird set of jeans-for-dogs and a black vneck tee. It looked more couture than the clothing Viktor had in his own closet, which would definitely not fit Makkachin.
“He’s adorable.” Viktor cooed, and Yuuri immediately scrolled through a long row of pictures, the dog taking up most of his camera roll.
“I miss him. He is the cutest thing in the world.” Yuuri said, staring at the phone with heavy eyelids and a soft smile.
“Vicchan, right?”
“Mhmm. I named him after my favorite skater.” He scrolled to a picture of the dog in a bee costume.
Viktor nearly spit.
“Favorite skater?”
“Viktor Nikiforov.” Yuuri said. Viktor noticed that Yuuri had slumped over, and his arm and side were now against his own. Viktor glanced up to see Chris’ hand pressed to his mouth, stifling laughter that threatened to bubble out.
This was actually going pretty well.
“I happen to have the same name.” Viktor said. What else could he say?
“’n look exack-a-ly like him.” Yuuri said, turning his beautiful smile up to him.
Viktor wanted to see this smile more.
“What if your favorite skater showed up to your hot springs?”
“That’da only happen in dreams.” Yuuri’s tone alluded that he was ridiculous, that it was a joke that it would ever happen. But… was it really that impossible?
Was he really that untouchable? Here he was, draped over him, their thighs against each other, a thousand smiles and looks and accidentally-on-purpose touches of the hand… and Viktor Nikiforov was still strictly in the dream land?
Was this the only thing that would be a surprise?
The bill came, and Viktor took it and slid his card under the clip. It would be the best rubles he had ever spent. (Except for Makkachin’s adoption fee.)
“We should get going, there are more events tomorrow…” Phichit said, watching Yuuri fighting to keep his eyes open, his cheek against Viktors arm. Chris played the traitor, standing up first, forcing Viktor to use his time wisely. He pulled away, but Yuuri sunk closer to him.
“Oh great… We left the chair at the hotel…” Phichit said, his perfectly laid plans fraying at the edges.
“The wheelchair?” He had forgotten about it. The fact that this boy had something about him that kept him from competing in the main Olympics.
“How did he…?” The words left Viktor’s lips before he meant them too. He moved carefully, extracting himself from Yuuri’s weight until we has able to get his feet underneath him.
“He walked in, but if he can’t sit, he can’t walk, and if you’re not careful you could hurt him.” Phichit worried his bottom lip.  He and his best friend were close to the same height, so a few tipsy nights hadn’t been much of a problem. But that had been in Detroit in the summer, not Sochi in the middle of winter.
The problem solved itself, Viktor sliding his arms around   Yuuri’s back and under his knees. Where he expected hard muscle with the soft give of flesh, he was pinched with hard plastic. Though the rest of him drooped, his feet remained straight, his slacks riding up to a skeleton of titanium ankles.
Oh.
“Here,” Phichit said, stepping around the table and grabbing the bottom of the dress shoes, unceremoniously pulling them
And the rest of Yuuri’s leg
Off.
The pant legs below Yuri’s knees deflated, but Viktor no longer had to worry about kicking other restaurant patrons in the head.
“That will make it easier to fit in the car.” Phichit said, tucking the legs under his arm. He obviously knew what was going on and had no issue whatsoever. Christopher knew too. Or he was just cool and didn’t feel like the worlds eyes were upon them.
God smiled upon them, and they happened to stay at the same hotel near the Olympic Oval. Phichit called a car home, the only one smart enough to keep a battery reserve on his smart phone. Viktor, the tallest, was tasked the keeper of Yuuri. In the lobby, Phichit dug out and set the sleeping man’s wallet into his lap, as Viktor held him like a bride over the threshold.
“Thanks. I owe you.” Phichit said, before following Chris up to the fifth floor. Viktor rode alone in the elevator… well, with Yuuri, late enough that the halls were quiet. There was only the hum of the elevator pulling upward, and the soft, even breathing of the silver medalist nestled against his chest.
He somehow managed to unlock the door, thanking all the corporations in Russia that it was a touch-card and not a key. He jostled Yuuri slightly, searching for a light switch on the wall. His arms were tiring, even during the break in the car. Why on earth was he up so high? All the accessible rooms were usually at the bottom floors in order to save costs on ordering evacuation equipment. That was if this hotel was even accessible. It never occurred to him before.
It was a small, single room; the only thing touched in the room was the bed. The expensive water laid untouched, even the complimentary pillow mint was uneaten. Viktor carefully set Yuri on the bed, in the middle of the nest of blankets. He paused, before reaching out to loosen this strange, perfect man’s tie. His eyelids fluttered open, and he stared up at Viktor.
His very core tugged him downward, harder than gravity. He wanted those eyes locked on him, to see what they did when given more pleasure than just a good meal and drink.
But he had just carried him, this boy drunk enough to spill his heart but not tie his idols name to the body beside him. He could not tarnish this image by taking what he could not get a clear answer to.
So instead he leaned down, kissing his forehead sweetly.
“Spokushki, Yuuri.”
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tokyoteddywolf · 8 years
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More Vet AU!
ahahahahaha what have i done :’)
enjoy!
Note: retrices are a fancy word for the tail feathers that help a bird steer in flight, in case you were confused :)
i had fun with this!
Vet AU!
It's All Christophe's Fault, I Swear!
Where Yuri just wants to get his damn job done for the night, but Chris and Mila decide the blonde needs a break. Shit hits the fan when the bird cages get opened……
Night shift. Yuri didn't really mind night shift, except that during his shift, Chris kept knocking all of his pens onto the floor while Yuri was writing out prescriptions for pick up tomorrow. The Maine Coon was now intently watching Yuri's pencil, tail twitching as he waited to pounce on the wiggling end. Mila, who had broken out yet again, was watching with amusement. Yuri shot a glare at the cat as a golden paw batted at the eraser end, and he growled in warning. Hanging around too many animals tended to give you a few of their...quirks. Chris merely glanced at that young vet intern, and poked his tongue out a tiny bit from his muzzle in response as he went back to stalking the pencil.
Yuri groaned and slammed his head onto the desk, startling both felines. He didn't have to be here more than twice a week, but he wanted to work here after his internship ended. The internship was only for a year anyway, but the head doctor was low on staff, and he had approved of Yuri's hard work and offered him a permanent position as a Feline/Canine specialist, since Dr. Lilia (as she liked to be called, her last name a bit too hard to chew for Yuri.) took care of the birds, scaly creatures, and small animals while Dr. Yakov handled the big, unusual animals. There was a groomer, Yuuko Nishigori, with her husband Takeshi as the large animal doctor who often handled the cattle animals, and Minako Okukawa who ran the muscle rehab center. Being a former ballet teacher, she knew better than Yuri did about muscles and how to stretch them right. Mari Katsuki took care of the therapy animals, training them in the large grassy area out back. She was actually Yuuri's owner. Viktor and Chris belonged to Dr. Yakov.
Yuri was startled out of his thoughts by a loud squawk. He glanced up. And his jaw dropped. JJ, a peacock owned by a nice, rich lady called Isabella, was staring at him from the edge of the desk where his head rested. He shot out of his chair in surprise after feeling claws in his back. Seung-Gil, a scarlet macaw, clicked his beak at the blonde and climbed up to his shoulder. “What the fuck? How-” Yuri started, only to whip his head around to look for Mila, who was suspiciously missing. Chris was gone too. “Oh no.” he groaned, and hurried out of the office he was borrowing during his internship, down the hall towards the Bird Treatment area where loud squawks and chirps could now be heard. JJ followed behind, while Seung-Gil stayed put on Yuri's shoulder.
Yuri threw open the door and got hit in the face with one of the birdseed treats, batted his way by a highly amused Mila. Brushing seeds off of his coat, he surveyed the damage. Only JJ and Seung-Gil's cages were open, and Chris was in the middle of fiddling with the bird siblings Michele and Sara's cages, both black kites squawking at the cat, Michele in angry irritation and Sara in encouragement. Yuri lunged forward and plucked Chris off of the table with the cages, but the lock had finally popped, and both birds of prey flew out in a flurry of wings, Sara going first while her loyal brother followed behind protectively, though slowly, as his wing wasn't fully healed yet. Glad that he'd closed the door earlier, Yuri ducked as Sara tried to land on his head. Sara had lost some retrices a while back, and they were still regrowing in, so he wasn't really surprised when the kite flailed and smacked into the wall behind him, squawking loudly at the failure of her tail feathers.
Yuri held back a laugh and went to check on the ruffled bird, Michele already there and fussing over his sister. Seung-Gil looked amused, while JJ strutted in front of Mila, cooing and chatting with the ginger ussuri. Chris hung from Yuri's arms, meowing indignantly to be put down, only to be set in a basket and told to stay. After running his hands over Sara's ruffled feathers, and determining that she was just a little startled, he set to work helping her preen them back into order, straightening out a few feathers before scooping her up, Michele clambering onto the shoulder opposite of the macaw.
“Come on guys, back in your cages.” Yuri ordered, Michele walking down his arm as Yuri opened the kite siblings' cage. Sara hopped back inside from his hands, Michele following behind. Shutting the cage and re-latching the cage locks and hurrying to put Seung-Gil back in his own cage. Seung-Gil was going home tomorrow anyways, the parrot's wing having fully healed from getting attacked by a stray cat that got into his house. JJ was still stuck here due to nearly freezing to death after an impromptu freezing rainstorm. Though Yuri was pretty sure he would be fine to leave the hospital soon enough, if how he was spreading his tail feathers for Mila and Chris was any hint to the peacock's wellbeing.
“You too, JJ.” Yuri sighed, ushering the proud bird back into his luxury cage that Isabella had brought him in, complete with a deep purple silk bed and the best food dishes you could provide for a bird. It was actually quite large and took up a whole entire corner of the room. Yuri didn't even want to know how Mila managed to undo all of the locks on JJ's cage, it'd probably give him nightmares. Houdini cat, that Mila. Once everyone was resettled, he went back to finish those prescriptions, dragging Mila and Chris with him and locking the Bird Room as he left.
Dr. Yakov was actually amused when he found the poor intern the next morning, asleep among a bunch of papers on his desk with two cats curled up on either side of the arms he was using for a pillow, feathers on his coat and pens scattered across the floor. It looks like Chris did manage to finally catch that pencil, though.
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alisayamin · 8 years
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I'd like modern magic au with a little of your yurio yuuri platonic-ness? Your post about them still haunts me sometimes
I LOVE MAGIC AU AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
So here you go anon, a bit of Yurio-Yuuri broship cuz I love them and they’re awesome + Victor cameo and just lots of fluff and a bit of Yurio-Otabek if you squint really really hard wwww
Yuuri pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. It told a lot about his extended hours of being in a hunched sitting position over the mixture in the cauldron in front of him. Fairies in the north were being paranoid about werewolves and the barrier of aconitum just weren’t cutting it anymore since packs often recruited their own humans and emissaries. Thus, new (urgent) orders for infused wolfsbane were piling up. 
With the amount of ingredients he was touching and summoning, it really wasn’t a good time to meet with any clients and the shop was closed. Usually the shop was out of sight anyway. Only those with pure enough hearts could see it and only those with purpose could enter. 
Yuuri didn’t often get walk-in customers (probably less than 5 in a month) so while he was busy adding grains and plants to his concoction, an impatient customer called out to him. 
“Oi. I’ve been standing here for 10 minutes!”
Yuuri was caught so off guard that he almost fell back.
“S-Sorry!” Yuuri hastily wiped his hands on his coat and stood up to greet the customer over the counter. 
Blond semi-length hair, a scowl on a pretty face, average height, defensive demeanor, and a strong core of magic but the lack of good concealment. It was a boy. An apprentice perhaps. 
Yuuri smiled sheepishly, “Hi there! I’d offer you my hand but you probably wouldn’t want to touch me unless you’re trying to ward off werewolves.”
The kid did not look impressed.
“How can I help you?”
At the question of a purpose, the apprentice seemed to loosen up a bit, “Are you good with charms?”
“That depends on what charm you’re looking for.”
The apprentice looked away and tapped his foot vigorously, as though contemplating his answer, “It’s for a friend. He just moved to a new place. Wanted to get a housewarming gift.”
Yuuri smiled, “A dreamcatcher would be nice.”
The apprentice’s lips tugged a little in the corner, “Yeah.”
“Okay, give me a minute, we’ll make it together.”
And the scowl was back, “Wait, ‘make’? Don’t you just sell them over the counter or something?”
Yuuri was putting the cauldron away and withdrawing a magic cloth from one of drawers as he answered, “It’s for your friend isn’t it? A personal touch from the benefactor goes a long way.”
It silenced the apprentice long enough for Yuuri to clean himself up and gather ingredients. He walked to his shelves of tools and ingredients behind him and let his magic decide which was the best for his client. It was calming to be able to tell what was best for the customer. Soon, Yuuri had a beautiful medium-sized light beige willow hoop (pre-made personally by Yuuri), a spool of magic-infused purple nylon strings, and a few small protective stones for extra measure. 
Yuuri gathered the materials in his arms and joined the apprentice in front of the counter. He comfortably sat on the floor and the apprentice hesitantly followed suite. 
After the first knot was tied, Yuuri began weaving the string in a clockwise manner along the hoop. He glanced up a few times to catch the apprentice watching him with full interest. Yuuri would never qualify as an educator but he could share what he knew. 
“These strings are infused with calluna vulgaris. For protection.”
The apprentice made a sound of acknowledgement, “Why do you weave? Isn’t it a hassle? Just use magic or something.”
“It would fasten the process but also taint it.”
“Why?” 
“To use magic in this case would mean haste. Haste has a horrible scent in gifts.”
Another affirmative grunt. 
As Yuuri weaved the middle layer, he added the green charms one by one, “These are hedera stones.”
“For friendship” the apprentice supplied while still concentrating on the way Yuuri’s hand moved effortlessly with every weave. 
“Do you have a personal item or charm you’d like to attach to your gift?”
The apprentice gave away a shocked expression as realization dawned on him. He reached into his pocket to retrieve three feathers; white, black and brown. Yuuri could feel the energy from those three objects. Charms worked best when the owner of said items believed in the objects’ abilities. And this apprentice, truly wanted to protect his friend. 
The sentiment and sincerity of the apprentice made Yuuri smile, “Perfect.”
At the last weave, Yuuri urged the apprentice to tie the double knot and instructed him to cut off the end with his own magic. Then, Yuuri tied the three feathers together with the nylon string and again, instructed the apprentice to tie it to the bottom of the completed dreamcatcher.
Once it was done, Yuuri felt his ties to the dreamcatcher being cut off. And he watched with mild interest at the apprentice’s confused face from a sudden surge of magic flow inside him. 
The apprentice had a lot to learn. 
Yuuri cleared all the items and went back to his counter. The apprentice stood up and asked him, “How much?”
“Well, seeming that you made the dreamcatcher yourself, no payment is needed.”
“….huh?”
“I have no proof of participation in making the dreamcatcher. It is entirely your magic that surrounds it.”
The apprentice was silent for a long time, scowling and frowning again, trying to understand what Yuuri meant. 
“When you make a charm, the most definitive feature is the final seal. Those who ‘complete’ it will bear full ownership no matter how many participants there were in its process.”
The apprentice’s eyes widened, “You gave me full ownership.”
“That’s right.”
For once, the apprentice’s face softened and a real smile graced his face, “Thank you.”
At that moment, Yuuri seemed to realize there was nothing he wouldn’t do to protect this pure soul. It was a great deal to thank without pretense or deceit. 
“But you’re an idiot.” the apprentice deadpanned with a bored look. Then he went rambling with another frown, “How can you go through all that trouble and NOT charge me? Do you know how many people will walk over your head? You can’t let people take advantage of you! You’re lucky I don’t walk on you. And what was with that mess earlier in the cauldron? Smelled like poop than infused wolfsbane if you ask me.”
Yuuri laughed self-consciously but he could read the kindness and care behind those insults. 
The apprentice huffed in annoyance as he carefully tucked away his gift. He turned towards the door but stopped midway, “Oi.”
“Mm?”
“Юрий Плисецкий”
Yuuri was stunned into silence. Those words carried strength in them. It was the apprentice’s name. 
“If you’re ever heading North, just.. y’know.”
The smile on Yuuri’s face almost hurt. They even shared the same first name it seemed, “勝生 利也” Yuuri answered back.
The apprentice whipped his head back with as much shock on his face as how Yuuri felt earlier. Name sharing was almost taboo for those in the magical circle. Giving someone full power of manipulation over your soul and body required great amount of trust. And if the apprentice, Yuri Plisetsky, a pure soul underneath an arrogant layer of skin, trusted Yuuri, he would gladly offer the same. 
“This shop doesn’t open its doors to just anyone but if you can’t see it, just call me up.”
The two stood in silence before Yuri smiled again and left the shop for good. 
“Yura! Where on earth did you go?!”
“Shut up old man! You’re never there in the forest when I wait for you anyway!”
Victor pouted at being called old. He wanted to get angry but… Something about Yuri smelled different. He smelled happy which was rare but he also smelled like…someone else. 
“Where did you go today?”
Yuri shrugged, “Found a shop when I was wondering town. Got a present for Beka. Why?”
“You smell like someone. Who is it?”
“Yeah the shop owner was weird. He didn’t even realize the door opened! I mean, his bell thingy was so loud when I came in! And he ignored me! For minutes!” Yuri seemed to go on a rampage but it slowly morphed into admiration and… affection perhaps?
“But… he helped me decide what to get and then he even helped me make Beka’s present and… we sat on the floor and he was really gentle with it…. he was a nice guy.” But then his rampage mood was back on, “He taught me more than you did in a month, Vitya.”
“Ouch, Yura, that hurts.” Victor dramatically clutched his chest.
“Whatever. Can we just practice already? You goofed off the whole time we’ve been in Japan.”
“You still haven't told me who that person is.”
Victor was surprise when Yuri’s stance imitated his own when he was being… difficult with Yakov. 
“I ain’t telling you shit, Victor. He’s not up for discussion.”
Oh. Now, wasn’t that interesting? Who was it that made Yuri so protective all of a sudden?
Yuuri was surprised to see his phone blink with an incoming message and then another. And another. The humans were amazing in their way to manipulate waves into electronic devices. Even the magical creatures had their fun with human technology. Of course, they tweaked most of it to their convenience. And Yuuri’s ‘number’ was only available to those who knew his name. 
Maybe he shouldn’t have been surprised to see Yuri’s rant-filled messages and questions on how to destroy his master. But there were also curious messages on how to make ivy stones and how to kill magical bugs without hurting them. 
Yuuri smiled. 
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squid-drop · 8 years
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Howl’s Moving Castle
So I was watching Howl’s Moving Castle in the car and I couldn’t get a Yuri!!! On Ice AU out of my head so here’s what I came up with:
Yuuri would definitely be Sophie
They’re both confident and shy at the start but slowly learn to love themselves after finding someone that makes them feel good ;) 
But hear me out okay
We can’t have two characters with silver hair by the end so how about instead of ‘brown hair into silver’ our boy just stays chubby
Vikor would be Howl hands down
They’re both beautiful and mysterious 
Viktor’s hair is long and pretty, always changing styles
That is until Yuuri screws up his hair products while cleaning, causing his hair to be shorter
Just like Howl he learns to love it
Yurio is their smol son, Markl
Just picture Markl but angry
The scene where Markl said that Howl and Sophie were his family jsfnajfna
My heart melted
Yurio is definalty like Viktor and Yuuri’s son
I feel like JJ would be the Witch of the Waste
Both go through character developments that make them go from hella intimidating to not so intimidating 
Idk but picturing JJ in outrageous, black feather outfits seems amazing
Phichit is Turnip Head/ the missing prince
They both brought the couples together ?? The ultimate matchmakers ((I mean Phichit didn’t bring them together but the whole “My friends are getting married!!”))
Plus Phichit is actually a prince wowy this boy need more love tbh
Makkachin is Suliman’s dog
the dog is dog
Yakov is Suliman
The whole “Howl get back here” and “Viktor get back here is too strong to not to do it
Christophe is Calcifer
Just Calcifer but more flirty
The fire does not come
Feel free to add on!! 
((It’s been years since I read the book but in the original, Sophie has two sisters. One of them being in love with Markl (or Michael if we’re talking about the book spelling), so Otabek could be one of the sisters. I can’t remember their name but yeah.))
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pinksnowboots · 8 years
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Allegro Appassionato (4/?)
Fandom: Yuri!!! on Ice
Characters: Yuri Plisetsky, Victor Nikiforov
Summary: Despite what everyone else says, Yuri is not a kitten. Yuri is a tiger.
Also read on AO3
There are a lot of things that Yuri likes about being in St. Petersburg. He likes that the summer camp classes move at a faster pace than the ones back home, where half the kids were just there because their parents wanted them out of the house. He likes that the other skaters are all good, much better than the ones back home, and that sometimes they teach him new things that the coaches refuse to teach a student as young as him. Even when no one will teach him, he's got plenty of talented skaters to watch and more often than not, he can start figuring it out himself. He likes that the skating rinks are bigger and better than they were back home.
Yuri especially likes that now that he's here, everyone takes him seriously, because only serious skaters move away from their homes to train. Plus, even in the classes here, he's one of the best.
On the other hand, there are also things he doesn't like about St. Petersburg. He doesn't like that the skaters at the training camp are from all over the world and speak English most of the time. He doesn't like the older skaters who all think they're going to be famous as soon as they get out of the junior division, especially since he can tell that most of them are wrong.
He doesn't like that here, he's only one of the best, rather than the best.
In his hometown, nobody could even come close to him, but the rink in St. Petersburg is filled with skaters whose goal is to skate in the Olympics, in the Grand Prix, in the World Championships, and they’re here to do anything they can to achieve that goal. Many of them are older than he is, or they’ve been here longer than he has, and as much as it hurts him to admit it, they’re better.
Academically, Yuri had known that he’d be among better skaters, but it hadn’t been real to him. He’d gotten so used to being not only the best, but the most ambitious, the most determined, the most hardworking that he didn’t have any idea how to act when he wasn’t the most anything except for the most new. He’s intimidated, and realizing that only makes him angrier because he feels like he shouldn’t be intimidated by these people.
When Yuri loses his first competition since moving to St. Petersburg, coming in 4th in his division by less than five points, he takes off his skates and throws them against the wall. It’s childish, throwing a temper tantrum, but it’s better than crying.
He looks up when he hears slow clapping coming from the door of the locker room and sees the gold medalist, a boy from Canada who is two years older than him, has been training in St. Petersburg for almost three years, and is constantly sporting a grin that could turn cruel with one twitch of a muscle.
“Throwing a temper tantrum? Poor little kitten!” He says.
Yuri's English isn't the best, but he knows enough to know when he's being mocked.
“Fuck off!” Yuri growls, using one of the words that Grandpa says he’s not supposed to know.
“Ooooh,” The other boy’s grin turns properly cruel and Yuri does his best not to feel scared. “Fiesty! This kitten has claws. But still, it’s in your best interest to leave these competitions to the big dogs.”
He dips out, giggling and obviously pleased with himself, as Yuri mumbles in Russian, low and murderous, “I do have claws motherfucker, come over here and I’ll show you.”
Yuri wishes that would be the end of it, but the other boy is a rink mate and a ringleader to boot, and he and his cronies seem to have decided that mocking Yuri is their new favorite hobby. They call him cute and childish, they laugh when he falls, they make fun of his broken English and they meow at him in the locker room.  
Sure, Yuri likes cats, but he doesn't like assholes, and he doesn't like this.
He ignores it as much as he can, but the mockery brings back the anger that he'd temporarily shed when he'd first moved. He tries not to let it affect him, but unlike his skating, his emotions have never been something he can totally control, and he feels the hurt and anger deeply and violently.
He tries to keep his pain a secret from his grandfather, but the day that the Canadian boy and his cronies vandalize Yuri's locker, his grandfather comes home to find him punching his pillow and swearing in two languages.
"Yuroshka," he says softly, as if approaching a wounded animal likely to lash out at anyone trying to help, "What's wrong?"
Yuri tends to get angry when he's upset, but this has been going on for too long, and he's just tired, so fucking tired. He means to tell Grandpa what's going on, to yell and scream because that's how he feels about it, but all that comes out is tears.
Grandpa comes to sit beside him on the bed and strokes his back, lets him cry.
Eventually Yuri catches his breath enough to speak, "The other boys at the rink, they bully me. They make fun of my English and my height and they call me a kitten." Yuri spits the word "kitten" like it's the vilest insult he can think of.
"Oh Yura," Grandpa says. "Don't you know that they're just jealous of you?"
"I know they're jealous of me but I don't care, if they're jealous they should just get better."
"Well," Grandpa says. "If they're not going to work to get better, then you'll have to. They can laugh all they want now, but making them watch you surpass them is the best revenge you can get."
"Hmmm, maybe." Yuri considers the idea. "I'd still rather punch them."
Grandpa laughs and hugs him and Yuri decides not to tell him that it wasn't a joke at all.
The next day Yuri comes home and finds a stuffed tiger sitting on his bed.
"Grandpa, what's this? Is this for me?" Yuri asks, clutching the tiger in his arms.
"Of course it's for you," Grandpa replies. "It's to remind you that you're not a kitten; you're a tiger, and nothing anyone else says can change that."
"A tiger." Yuri repeats, turning the words over in his head, testing out how they feel on his lips. "I'm a tiger."
"You certainly are," Grandpa agrees, a smile on his lips.
Yuri's still angry with his bullies. It's not fair for them to mock him for nothing other than being younger, smaller, more delicate than most of them, but still showing more promise. It's not fair that they can be allowed to affect him like this, in a way that hurts his feelings and his concentration, and therefore his performance.
It's not fair, so Yuri sets out to fix it. He's not going to curl up in a corner and cry, like a child or a kitten. He's going to be a tiger.
He can't make them stop mocking him, because he's learned from experience that the more he protests, the more they laugh. Ironically, it reminds him of a cat, toying with a mouse because it's more fun when their prey struggles. But what he can do is refuse to let their taunts impact him. He uses his anger to fuel him, to keep him going to practice a jump or a spin just one more time even when his muscles are aching from exhaustion, to stretch just a little further in ballet class, to help him keep his face stony even when someone calls his name with a cruel voice.
Tigers are dangerous because of their grace, and Yuri learns to move with deadly grace. Whenever someone calls him a child, he tells himself that he's going to break records at a younger age than any of the previous record holders. When someone laughs when he falls, he pictures his anger as a fire in his belly, burning the fuel that lets him get up and try again. When someone calls him a kitten, his inner tiger roars.
Soon, Yuri goes from being one of the best to being the best. His inner tiger purrs at the revelation, and his outer self smiles, satisfied and just a tiny bit smug.
Yuri first sees Victor Nikiforov in person at the end of the summer training camp. Yakov has arranged for Victor to perform his short program for all the participants in the training camp, to inspire them to keep skating and, Yuri things, to show off his prized pupil.
Victor is shorter than Yuri imagined he would be, but that tends to be the case with childhood heroes. He takes the ice wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt, and it's so different than the Victor Nikiforov that Yuri's watched avidly on television for as long as he can remember that it's jarring. The Victor he's used to seeing wears makeup and flashy costumes, gives perfectly poised press conferences and interviews, and only exists on television. This Victor is dressed the same clothes Yuri practices in (but, Yuri notes, Victor's sweatpants are much uglier) and before he enters the rink, he says something to Yakov that makes Yakov turn red and snap at Victor as he skates away, laughing a laugh that Yuri's never heard before despite having heard Victor laugh at interviewers' bad jokes hundreds of times. This Victor is real.
Victor skates over to the edge of the rink where he and the other skaters are sitting, and Yuri swears that several girls almost faint.
"Hi, I'm Victor Nikiforov," he says, waving and grinning a rather stupid looking grin. "I don't know if you've heard of me, but I'm one of Yakov's figure skaters."
It's a terrible joke, but everyone laughs anyway. Yuri is surprised to find that he's laughing too, even though as soon as Victor started speaking to them, the television-Victor persona returned.
"The theme for my program this year is the myth of Icarus and Daedalus. In case you don't know the story, Daedalus was a master craftsman, and he made wings out of wax and feathers so that he and his son could fly. Before giving Icarus the wings, he warned him not to fly too high. Icarus was so excited about the feeling of flying that he ignored his father's warning and he flew so high that the sun melted his wings and he fell to his death."
Victor's smile never wavers, incongruous with the darkness of the story. Yuri sees several confused faces around him, either because of the darkness of the story or because of Victor's quick and slightly accented English.
"My short program and free skate express the feeling of this story." Victor continues. "My short program is about the euphoria of flying, and my free skate is about falling back to earth."
Victor gestures for Yakov to start the music, and it's as if he transforms. Yuri forgets that Victor is wearing ugly sweatpants and that his hair looks like he just rolled out of bed, because as soon as Victor starts skating all that matters is the way that he moves.
There's a reason that Victor is famous. On top of his routine being technically impeccable, his stage presence is undeniable. Yuri's seen him on TV countless times, has watched and rewatched videos of Victor to analyze just how he pulls off a quad or a challenging step sequence, but seeing him in person is a completely different experience. Seeing Victor skate on the very same ice that Yuri just skated on earlier that day pulls at something in his chest, a longing feeling that Yuri can't quite define.
Victor says in almost every interview that he gives that his biggest goal is to surprise his audience, and in this respect his program is a huge success. Victor's program clearly tells his story, and his jumps seem to get higher and higher as the program goes on, and Yuri pictures a young bird just learning how to fly, ecstatic over his newfound abilities and swooping and soaring just because he can.
By the end of the performance, Yuri is on the edge of his seat, leaning forward so far that he almost falls on top of the person in front of him. As Victor strikes his final pose and everyone around him erupts into cheers, Yuri realizes that he's not breathing.
"Thank you, thank you!" Victor takes a bow, suddenly turning back into TV-interview-Victor. "I hope you enjoyed the performance. If you work hard, maybe someday one of you will be doing standing here in ten years, telling a new group of young skaters to keep working towards their dreams."
It's cheesy, and Yuri rolls his eyes as Victor returns to talk to Yakov and everyone else starts packing up their things and heading home. But at the same time, Yuri gets an image of himself, but older, showing off a routine that he knew would win gold to young skaters who looked incredibly excited to see their idol, Yuri Plisetsky.
Their coaches told them not to bother Victor because he's a busy man and is being kind enough to take time out of his day to skate for them and so on and so forth. Yuri's heard those reminders, and he meant to follow them, he really did, but he finds himself walking over to Victor and Yakov. He's met Yakov once and Victor never, but even so he calls Victor's name.
Victor turns around and looks at Yuri, confused. "Hello." He says in English.
The coach who leads Yuri's class sees Yuri approach Victor from across the rink, glares at Yuri as if by thinking hard enough she can get Yuri to behave the way she wants him to as she rushes towards them to do damage control.
No one has ever been able to get Yuri to behave the way they want him to.
"Hello," Yuri replies in Russian, intentionally not thinking about the fact that he's potentially being rude to The Victor Nikiforov, "I'm Yuri Plisetsky."
"Nice to meet you, Yuri Plisetsky." Victor replies in Russian, and the switch to his mother tongue emboldens Yuri to continue.
"You said that one of us might be where you are in ten years. Well, that's going to be me."
Yuri doesn't quite know why he's here, talking to Victor Nikiforov in a tone of voice that sounds almost like a challenge, but he's come this far and Yuri Plisetsky does not back down.
"Really?" Victor replies, thankfully sounding amused instead of annoyed. Yakov's face appears to be slowly turning redder and redder. "You think that you can catch up to me in ten years, Yuri Plisetsky?"
Victor draws out all the syllables in his name, in a way that could be interpreted as playful or threatening.
"I can do it in less than ten, Victor Nikiforov." Yuri replies, saying Victor's name the same way.
Victor smiles, a real smile rather than a television smile. "Yuri, did you understand the moral of the story that I skated to? The story Icarus and Daedalus?"
"My wings," Yuri says definitely "Are not made of wax."
Yuri's coach finally reaches them and pulls Yuri away with a hissed "What do you think you're doing? " Victor waves at him as he walks away.
Before he gets pulled out of earshot entirely, Yuri yells back to Victor, "Keep you eyes on me!" His coach squeezes his arm harder, and lectures him the entire walk back to the locker room. She tells him that he was rude, disrespectful, and wasted Victor's precious time. She says that it made him look childish and that it was selfish of him to think he should get to talk to Victor when no one else did.
Yuri ignores her, and she drills him harder the rest of the week as punishment, but then Yakov shows up with Victor to watch one of their practices. Half the students skate better than they ever have on a normal day, and the other half fall on their asses.
Yuri thrives on attention, and he skates better than he ever has before.
His coach is furious when a week later, Yakov comes and asks Yuri if he wants to join the group of skaters that Yakov personally coaches, a group that includes Victor.
Yuri accepts, and it feels like he's flying.
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Ch 17-Ice
“How many stores did you go to?”  Yuuri’s voice was soft and hoarse as he sat up from his nap on the hotel bed. Viktor had decided to avoid the extra family strife and get a hotel near the airport, rather than call in a favor from the Katsuki Yuutopia van.
“Two, I didn’t think there were many flavors, and I wasn’t sure what you would like.”
“Viktor,” Yuuri laughed. “You could have asked me! There’s too much ice cream.”
“But that’s all you have been able to eat, and I wanted you to rest.” Viktor said firmly, standing behind his decision and the twenty-something types of ice cream in the plastic bag in front of him.
“I’m not picky. You could have chosen your favorite and I would eat it too.” Yuuri pulled out one of the (thankfully tiny) Hagen-Dazs container. “Do you like green tea?” He quirked his head to the side.
“From what I have had, I suppose so. Why?” Viktor shuffled through the bag.
“there’s five kinds of matcha in here. Green tea, green tea and.. mochi, green tea truffle, green tea and  adzuki bean…”
“Oh, I just looked at the pictures. Except this one. I read that one.” Viktor proudly pulled out and plopped a strawberry cheesecake flavor into his hand.
“Hagen Dazs has english on the other side.”  Yuuri said quietly, before lovingly patting the side of Viktor’s face. “Good job , katakana is really difficult.”
The two sorted through the ice cream together, pushing the tomato and carrot flavors to the side. Viktor started with one of the  versions of strawberry flavors, while Yuuri started off with a mint chocolate chip.
“What is that? It’s green?” Viktor peered over at Yuuri’s first choice after snuggling next to him on the bed.
“Mint chocolate chip. I used to get it a lot when  I trained in Detriot.”
“Ah. Very American.” Viktor didn’t know what else to say. Detroit didn’t come up much in conversation.
“It was Phichit’s favorite too, and there was a Baskin Robbins near campus. We went there first since I recognized it from Japan.” For the first time in days, he had a subconscious smile across his face from the nostalgia.
“So it’s good memories for you,right?”  Yuuri nodded in response. “It is. Like my mom and Calpis soda. What ice cream is nostalgic for you?”
“Hmmm. I would say… Crème Brulee… Very popular in Russia. St. Petersburg has a famous frozen food company. I would often get Yakov to buy me some if he was in a good mood after practice.
“He has a good mood?” Yuuri was genuinely surprised. All the media coverage and interviews, Yakov was a harsh and upright man. When Yurio had visited,  he and Viktor had talked about Yakov yelling, no matter how fondly it was recalled.
“Of course. Yakov is like a father to me. I know how to get on his good side.” Viktor smirked mischievously.
“Vitenka…”
“Mmm?”
“If I get better..”
“When.” Viktor corrected.
“When I get better… we should go to Russia.”
Viktor’s  mouth dropped open.
“I… I’m sorry for bringing it up suddenly..” Yuuri stuttered before Viktor pulled him into a bear hug.
“Oh Yuuri!” Viktor could only  put that to words, wondering if Yuuri had been anxious over the long months spent in Russia, that he was worried he missed Yakov.. it could be anything. But the guesture meant everything.
“I can show you my favorite places, and see you in my apartment..”
“You still have an apartment?” Yuuri squeaked. It had been way too long that any rented place would have been filled, even in sleepy Hasetsu.
Viktor waved his hand vaguely. “You could train with Yurio, he’s a big fan of you, and maybe he would listen better.” Yuuri flushed as Viktor rambled on.
“But first,” Viktor said firmly,  “We have the Cup of China. And you getting healthy.”
They woke up in the same bed, the choice natural and easily made when they had booked the room. Viktor gathered what little they had pulled from the suitcases while Yuuri slowly woke up at the rate of the undead. He woke up enough to insist on pulling his luggage to the lobby, and down the street to the train line that would take them directly to the airport. He fell asleep on the train ride, leaning into and drooling a little on Viktor’s shoulder, his arms looped around the backpack on his lap. He missed seeing Yuuri’s whole face—even before the chemotherapy he had taken to wearing flu masks during travel, but now it was required. Any cough or sneeze from a stranger could take down his fragile immune system and bring him back to the hospital—or worse. Viktor thanked his lucky stars that this was a norm in Asia, otherwise Yuuri’s chance at being fit enough for the competition lowered drastically.  He had pulled too many strings to give up now.
Moreover, he refused to disappoint Yuuri.
~~~
Viktor had been to event venues many times before. There was no reason for nerves to creep up his back and settle into his stomach. But something about this year felt different. His disappearance from Russia had popped up in the media after all, but he had been able to keep his stint in Hasetsu quiet. Nagano had sparked up a new frenzy, and the sheer amount of media for the Cup was making him nervous. He felt like Yuuri would be a wreck too, much like he had been before Nagano. But he merely followed Viktor like a duckling, looking tired and a little dreamy. Neither of them noticed it until it was too late- Phichit ambushed both of them, pulling Yuuri and Viktor into a group bear-hug.
“Swasdi, my favorite couple!” He cheered. “Ready to rumble?”
“Phichit, please…!” Yuuri’s tone was caught between pleading and laughter. “The whole world can hear you..”
“Literally. Everyone is here, even that crazy Canadian dude.” Phichit looked like the cat who got the mouse, swallowing back a smile. “I’ve missed you, Yuuri. Skype just isn’t the same.” Yuuri moved into the prime selfie pose with the ease that spoke of years of experience. Phichit had his phone at the ready, shuffling to get Viktor in the background.
“You should have your honeymoon in Thailand, my aunt has a condo by  the beach, and I can show you all the good places to eat.” Phichit chattered as he tapped at his phone, uploading and tagging as words spilled out of his mouth.
“Phichit!” Yuuri said sharply, and said man looked up and offered a bright smile. “I know, I know. I’m just thinking of the future! I’ll save it for dinner.”
“Did I hear dinner?” Phichit brightened, waving at the source of the sensual voice. Viktor merely looked over, watching as Yuuri freaked out at the hello butt-touch from Christophe. He stepped over, working an arm around Yuuri,  which helped him relax slightly, but he still watched the Swiss skater with wide eyes and pink cheeks.
“Yes! Let’s make it a reunion! I am feeling hot pot!” Phichit chirped. “I did some research for my vlog about some great spots for food, remember Yuuri? There’s a dog café in the next neighborhood with some cuties ready to get cuddles.”
Yuuri smiled sweetly. “Sounds great, Phichit, but we have the competition to worry about first.”
“Are you worried?” Phichit brows furrowed. “Because we can work on that.  It’s totally natural to do that, but I am here for you if you feel another pan---“
Yuuri smushed his hand against Phichit’s mouth. “Not here, please.  They’re already going to think I’m going to lose with my legs. I don’t want them to get any more ideas.”
“Psh! Let them get new ideas and get blown out of the water!” Phichit rolled his eyes. “You only have the worlds BEST figure skater as a coach!”
Viktor smiled and winked at Yuuri, glad that for once, he wasn’t the one making Yuuri embarrassed.
~~~
Viktor, in a fit of late-night anxiety in the early months of Hasetsu, had worked himself into a knot. He had spent too long thinking about Yuuri and the costume he had chosen for Eros.  The hundreds of euros he had spent on sending the boxes from Russia had been worth it. Yuuri had spent hours, sparkly-eyed and slack-jawed, recalling each award and competition and routine each costume belonged to. That wasn’t what bothered Viktor. What bothered him was the little thought that had wormed into the back of his mind—wasn’t he being selfish?  He looked forward to every time he saw Yuuri wear it, and caught himself imaging moving under the fabric, the layered straps and tight lycra. The whole Eros routine he had made Yuuri,  under the guise of pushing him out of his comfort zone, was entirely for Viktor’s own profit.  Yuuko had only seen it on accident as owner of the rink.
The anxiety that gnawed at the back of his mind had stayed there, but during the competition it reared its vicious head.
Viktor had no idea if the judges would love the Yuuri  that Viktor had pulled into this indulgent world.
He went to Japan to see  Yuuri. He choreographed Eros to see Yuuri’s body move in beautiful ways. He pulled strings and cashed in favors to have his Yuuri join him  in competition.
Staring at Yuuri now… he hated how his tunnel vision had affected what he had built up for so long.
He barely ate breakfast, even refusing the ice cream Viktor ordered from room service while Yuuri took a post-breakfast shower to wake up. He had two coffees, and took twice as long to notice when someone called his name.  He let Viktor help him into the costume,  blank and tired when Viktor’s hand brushed over his butt and  later smoothed the fabric over his biceps
“Let’s show them your beautiful face.” Viktor hummed, pulling out the jar of hair wax and dipping his fingers into it.  Yuuri let him smooth his bangs out of his face, his eyes staring at Viktor’s chest, finger running down the lanyard that held his event pass.
“Yuuri, if you aren’t feeling well…” Viktor frowned, keeping his voice low and private.
“I feel great!” Yuuri smiled, and although he knew it wasn’t true, Viktor let it tug at his heart strings. Yuuri knew how to make it hard to say no to him.
An awkward silence fell between them. “I’ve never seen this one.” Yuuri said softly, moving his touch from the lanyard to the fabric of Viktor’s outfit. It was all black, the darkest black, some of the edges bleeding into feathers.
A few months ago, Viktor had contacted the designer and asked for a new image for it. Scattered within the soul-sucking black and soft feathers, were small mirrored pieces flowing out from the center of his chest.
Viktor liked to think that it evoked Eros.
Much better than the painted despair black he had been planning the year before.
“The order is out!” Phichit interrupted the moment, already changed into rich red brocade and excitement. “Guess who is back to back! Or butt to butt!” He snickered, and the corner of Yuuri’s mouth twitched. “Viktor and Yuuri!”
“Oh.” Yuuri flushed. “Lucky, huh?” He turned and looked up at Viktor, and he melted.
He pulled Yuuri into a tight hug, squeezing the air out of him, overwhelmed by emotion. Yuuri didn’t complain, only tapping him on the shoulder when he needed air back in his lungs.
“You can do it, Yuuri.”
“You can do it, Viktor. You go first.”  Yuuri tilted his head to the side, and the sweetness was tinged bitter by the shadow it cast under his tired eyes.
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delicadenza · 7 years
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one thing I could save from the fire: let the human in [3/6]
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Fandom: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime) Relationships: Otabek Altin/Yuri Plisetsky, some victuuri in the background, also some jjbella Characters: Otabek Altin, Yuri Plisetsky, Victor Nikiforov, Katsuki Yuuri, Phichit Chulanont, Jean-Jacques Leroy, Isabella Yang, Yakov Feltsman, Lilia Baranovskaya, Leo de la Iglesia, Ji Guang-Hong Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Pacific Rim Fusion, Partnership, Drift Compatibility, Training, Aged-Up Character(s), Other Additional Tags to Be Added Word Count (Ch. 3): 8085
The first order of business before the battle starts: name your enemy.
It goes something like this: breach date 10 June 2021. Kaiju, codename Rusalka, Category 3, sighted at 0400 hours. Agile, serpentine body. Light dorsal armor offset by superior speed quotient. Jagged claws and tail-pincer. Highly toxic.
Lilia Baranovskaya is a woman built like a length of wire—tall and alert and without a hair out of place despite the ungodly hour, bedecked head to toe in sleek military uniform as though she can’t afford letting even this smallest most pared-down command team see her off her game. A woman with gunmetal eyes and a wolf’s walk, pacing the floor as she gives her Rangers their orders. She goes from one end to the room and back again, heels clicking, never still.
“Justice, I want you working to immobilize. Prioritize your heat weapons to contain the kaiju blue.”
“Always the bridesmaid, never the bride,” JJ huffs. You can practically hear his lip curl; Otabek stifles a snort. “You’re cutting us deep, Marshal.”
It’s more than a little insubordinate—the entire room sees Lilia’s eyebrow go up in an eloquent arch—but Isabella’s ready interjections come as dependably as they always have, smoothing any ruffled feathers back down. “The Marshal’s only making sure we play to our strengths. We haven’t yet met a kaiju we couldn’t outpace.”
Otabek wonders if he might miss the two of them. He’s wandered by the J-Tech labs many times since leaving his post in Neural Bridge Ops, for no reason but that his feet know to lead him there when he can’t figure out where else to go. He’s caught them in the simulator once or twice (Phichit, laughing: Want to run this one, for old times’ sake?) and reveled quietly in the chance to watch that synergy he remembers. In those instances he’s found they talk as much as they always have. It’s only just occurred to him that this might be the first time he’s going to watch them fight for real.
“And you’ll need all that vaunted speed of yours to draw the assault.” Lilia clears her throat. “Anticipate direct hostile engagement as soon as you hit the water. Harmony, hold to the rear line and wait to get the jump on it.”
“Just as well,” Victor answers, cavalier as ever. Then a sigh, a long lazy exhale into the comm. “I hate these slippery ones. Let’s hope we can get this over with in time for breakfast.”
Continue on AO3.
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Deep Within My Bones Ch 17- Ice
“How many stores did you go to?”  Yuuri’s voice was soft and hoarse as he sat up from his nap on the hotel bed. Viktor had decided to avoid the extra family strife and get a hotel near the airport, rather than call in a favor from the Katsuki Yuutopia van.
“Two, I didn’t think there were many flavors, and I wasn’t sure what you would like.”
“Viktor,” Yuuri laughed. “You could have asked me! There’s too much ice cream.”
“But that’s all you have been able to eat, and I wanted you to rest.” Viktor said firmly, standing behind his decision and the twenty-something types of ice cream in the plastic bag in front of him.
“I’m not picky. You could have chosen your favorite and I would eat it too.” Yuuri pulled out one of the (thankfully tiny) Hagen-Dazs container. “Do you like green tea?” He quirked his head to the side.
“From what I have had, I suppose so. Why?” Viktor shuffled through the bag.
“there’s five kinds of matcha in here. Green tea, green tea and.. mochi, green tea truffle, green tea and  adzuki bean…”
“Oh, I just looked at the pictures. Except this one. I read that one.” Viktor proudly pulled out and plopped a strawberry cheesecake flavor into his hand.
“Hagen Dazs has english on the other side.”  Yuuri said quietly, before lovingly patting the side of Viktor’s face. “Good job , katakana is really difficult.”
The two sorted through the ice cream together, pushing the tomato and carrot flavors to the side. Viktor started with one of the  versions of strawberry flavors, while Yuuri started off with a mint chocolate chip.
“What is that? It’s green?” Viktor peered over at Yuuri’s first choice after snuggling next to him on the bed.
“Mint chocolate chip. I used to get it a lot when  I trained in Detriot.”
“Ah. Very American.” Viktor didn’t know what else to say. Detroit didn’t come up much in conversation.
“It was Phichit’s favorite too, and there was a Baskin Robbins near campus. We went there first since I recognized it from Japan.” For the first time in days, he had a subconscious smile across his face from the nostalgia.
“So it’s good memories for you,right?”  Yuuri nodded in response. “It is. Like my mom and Calpis soda. What ice cream is nostalgic for you?”
“Hmmm. I would say… Crème Brulee… Very popular in Russia. St. Petersburg has a famous frozen food company. I would often get Yakov to buy me some if he was in a good mood after practice.
“He has a good mood?” Yuuri was genuinely surprised. All the media coverage and interviews, Yakov was a harsh and upright man. When Yurio had visited,  he and Viktor had talked about Yakov yelling, no matter how fondly it was recalled.
“Of course. Yakov is like a father to me. I know how to get on his good side.” Viktor smirked mischievously.
“Vitenka…”
“Mmm?”
“If I get better..”
“When.” Viktor corrected.
“When I get better… we should go to Russia.”
Viktor’s  mouth dropped open.
“I… I’m sorry for bringing it up suddenly..” Yuuri stuttered before Viktor pulled him into a bear hug.
“Oh Yuuri!” Viktor could only  put that to words, wondering if Yuuri had been anxious over the long months spent in Russia, that he was worried he missed Yakov.. it could be anything. But the guesture meant everything.
“I can show you my favorite places, and see you in my apartment..”
“You still have an apartment?” Yuuri squeaked. It had been way too long that any rented place would have been filled, even in sleepy Hasetsu.
Viktor waved his hand vaguely. “You could train with Yurio, he’s a big fan of you, and maybe he would listen better.” Yuuri flushed as Viktor rambled on.
“But first,” Viktor said firmly,  “We have the Cup of China. And you getting healthy.”
They woke up in the same bed, the choice natural and easily made when they had booked the room. Viktor gathered what little they had pulled from the suitcases while Yuuri slowly woke up at the rate of the undead. He woke up enough to insist on pulling his luggage to the lobby, and down the street to the train line that would take them directly to the airport. He fell asleep on the train ride, leaning into and drooling a little on Viktor’s shoulder, his arms looped around the backpack on his lap. He missed seeing Yuuri’s whole face—even before the chemotherapy he had taken to wearing flu masks during travel, but now it was required. Any cough or sneeze from a stranger could take down his fragile immune system and bring him back to the hospital—or worse. Viktor thanked his lucky stars that this was a norm in Asia, otherwise Yuuri’s chance at being fit enough for the competition lowered drastically.  He had pulled too many strings to give up now.
Moreover, he refused to disappoint Yuuri.
~~~
Viktor had been to event venues many times before. There was no reason for nerves to creep up his back and settle into his stomach. But something about this year felt different. His disappearance from Russia had popped up in the media after all, but he had been able to keep his stint in Hasetsu quiet. Nagano had sparked up a new frenzy, and the sheer amount of media for the Cup was making him nervous. He felt like Yuuri would be a wreck too, much like he had been before Nagano. But he merely followed Viktor like a duckling, looking tired and a little dreamy. Neither of them noticed it until it was too late- Phichit ambushed both of them, pulling Yuuri and Viktor into a group bear-hug.
“Swasdi, my favorite couple!” He cheered. “Ready to rumble?”
“Phichit, please…!” Yuuri’s tone was caught between pleading and laughter. “The whole world can hear you..”
“Literally. Everyone is here, even that crazy Canadian dude.” Phichit looked like the cat who got the mouse, swallowing back a smile. “I’ve missed you, Yuuri. Skype just isn’t the same.” Yuuri moved into the prime selfie pose with the ease that spoke of years of experience. Phichit had his phone at the ready, shuffling to get Viktor in the background.
“You should have your honeymoon in Thailand, my aunt has a condo by  the beach, and I can show you all the good places to eat.” Phichit chattered as he tapped at his phone, uploading and tagging as words spilled out of his mouth.
“Phichit!” Yuuri said sharply, and said man looked up and offered a bright smile. “I know, I know. I’m just thinking of the future! I’ll save it for dinner.”
“Did I hear dinner?” Phichit brightened, waving at the source of the sensual voice. Viktor merely looked over, watching as Yuuri freaked out at the hello butt-touch from Christophe. He stepped over, working an arm around Yuuri,  which helped him relax slightly, but he still watched the Swiss skater with wide eyes and pink cheeks.
“Yes! Let’s make it a reunion! I am feeling hot pot!” Phichit chirped. “I did some research for my vlog about some great spots for food, remember Yuuri? There’s a dog café in the next neighborhood with some cuties ready to get cuddles.”
Yuuri smiled sweetly. “Sounds great, Phichit, but we have the competition to worry about first.”
“Are you worried?” Phichit brows furrowed. “Because we can work on that.  It’s totally natural to do that, but I am here for you if you feel another pan---“
Yuuri smushed his hand against Phichit’s mouth. “Not here, please.  They’re already going to think I’m going to lose with my legs. I don’t want them to get any more ideas.”
“Psh! Let them get new ideas and get blown out of the water!” Phichit rolled his eyes. “You only have the worlds BEST figure skater as a coach!”
Viktor smiled and winked at Yuuri, glad that for once, he wasn’t the one making Yuuri embarrassed.
~~~
Viktor, in a fit of late-night anxiety in the early months of Hasetsu, had worked himself into a knot. He had spent too long thinking about Yuuri and the costume he had chosen for Eros.  The hundreds of euros he had spent on sending the boxes from Russia had been worth it. Yuuri had spent hours, sparkly-eyed and slack-jawed, recalling each award and competition and routine each costume belonged to. That wasn’t what bothered Viktor. What bothered him was the little thought that had wormed into the back of his mind—wasn’t he being selfish?  He looked forward to every time he saw Yuuri wear it, and caught himself imaging moving under the fabric, the layered straps and tight lycra. The whole Eros routine he had made Yuuri,  under the guise of pushing him out of his comfort zone, was entirely for Viktor’s own profit.  Yuuko had only seen it on accident as owner of the rink.
The anxiety that gnawed at the back of his mind had stayed there, but during the competition it reared its vicious head.
Viktor had no idea if the judges would love the Yuuri  that Viktor had pulled into this indulgent world.
He went to Japan to see  Yuuri. He choreographed Eros to see Yuuri’s body move in beautiful ways. He pulled strings and cashed in favors to have his Yuuri join him  in competition.
Staring at Yuuri now… he hated how his tunnel vision had affected what he had built up for so long.
He barely ate breakfast, even refusing the ice cream Viktor ordered from room service while Yuuri took a post-breakfast shower to wake up. He had two coffees, and took twice as long to notice when someone called his name.  He let Viktor help him into the costume,  blank and tired when Viktor’s hand brushed over his butt and  later smoothed the fabric over his biceps
“Let’s show them your beautiful face.” Viktor hummed, pulling out the jar of hair wax and dipping his fingers into it.  Yuuri let him smooth his bangs out of his face, his eyes staring at Viktor’s chest, finger running down the lanyard that held his event pass.
“Yuuri, if you aren’t feeling well…” Viktor frowned, keeping his voice low and private.
“I feel great!” Yuuri smiled, and although he knew it wasn’t true, Viktor let it tug at his heart strings. Yuuri knew how to make it hard to say no to him.
An awkward silence fell between them. “I’ve never seen this one.” Yuuri said softly, moving his touch from the lanyard to the fabric of Viktor’s outfit. It was all black, the darkest black, some of the edges bleeding into feathers.
A few months ago, Viktor had contacted the designer and asked for a new image for it. Scattered within the soul-sucking black and soft feathers, were small mirrored pieces flowing out from the center of his chest.
Viktor liked to think that it evoked Eros.
Much better than the painted despair black he had been planning the year before.
“The order is out!” Phichit interrupted the moment, already changed into rich red brocade and excitement. “Guess who is back to back! Or butt to butt!” He snickered, and the corner of Yuuri’s mouth twitched. “Viktor and Yuuri!”
“Oh.” Yuuri flushed. “Lucky, huh?” He turned and looked up at Viktor, and he melted.
He pulled Yuuri into a tight hug, squeezing the air out of him, overwhelmed by emotion. Yuuri didn’t complain, only tapping him on the shoulder when he needed air back in his lungs.
“You can do it, Yuuri.”
“You can do it, Viktor. You go first.”  Yuuri tilted his head to the side, and the sweetness was tinged bitter by the shadow it cast under his tired eyes.
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