#otabek almost kill me

[arom-antix]

Yuri!!! On Cards collaboration!

So, I know I've been pretty inactive recently, at least in posting my own art but for good reason! In the Yuri on the Web Discord server artists and writers alike have all collaborated to illustrate a deck of cards and write stories for each of them. And as a resident artist myself, I couldn't not take the opportunity to draw for this project UuU

Oh and if anyone was wondering, yes, I am to blame for inflicting this giant project onto the server BUT I REGRET NOTHING AND NEITHER WILL YOU IF YOU CHECK OUT EVERYONE ELSE'S WORKS. Trust me, they are amazing! The masterpost can be found here!

GIANT thanks to @lines-on-ice and @yaoiconnoisseur for helping so much and being amazing co-administrators and basically making this entire thing possible! You really saved me from my own overambition XD

The guidelines for this project can be found on the Yuri!!! On Cards blog as can the masterpost with all the links to everything. All the art that gets posted to Tumblr will also be reblogged by the blog.

With all that said, here's the actual art I made! (Break for those who don't want their dash to die UuU)

Okay, I lied. First, I'd heavily recommend for you to check out the guideline posts, both the general and artists' and even the writers' if you're up to it to get a grasp of the perimeters of this project. There's also some vague lore and AU stuff about the whole thing to find which will give you context for why the art looks the way it does to a certain extent.

You can also just jump right in and take everything as I ramble about it which, I mean, I won't stop you, the guideline posts aren't short. I will not blame you. You can still just look at the art. If that's your choice, go on ahead!

First up!

Ace of the Kingdom Otabek, The Deep Shadow

Being of the Kingdom of Diamonds, he's skillful and sharp. He moves quietly as a shadow and is just as mysterious.

Okay, I can't comment much on how he actually is, you'll have find that out by reading his fic(let?). They were supposed to be ficlets but as writers tend to do, none of us could manage that so take "ficlet" with a big grain of salt for every written work.

I've, by the way, not read any of the ficlets for this project beside my own so I'll get to experience the reveal with y'all and I'm gonna perish waiting.

Anyway, about the art. The yellow of course comes from the Kingdom of Diamonds' designated colour. As for the outfit, it's based on this handsome fellow I found who's supposed to be a Kazakh archer which I thought fit Otabek's whole shadow thing perfectly (and Writingfromtheshadow's fic Equivalent Exchange has me in an iron grip and I don't want to be released).

If there are any Kazakhs in the audience, you are free to laugh at me for any inaccuracies or missteps, I am but a humble little not-Kazakh, I don't expect to have gotten it all right UuU

Next up!

King Yuuri, Wanderer of Dreams

The ruler of his realm, he is as the mind flows. Kind and benevolent yet of fickle thoughts, the spirals of the subconscious are ones he both masters and bows to.

Again, gonna be waiting for his fic with everyone else but like. It's Yuuri. Anxiety is kind of a given.

In terms of art, I don't know if you can tell but this was where I started writing my will because oh my stars, what did I get myself into. If you follow me or my art, you'll know that I don't draw lineless. Like ever. And apparently I decided this project on a deadline that others were depending on me making look nice was the place to go all out.

And the worst part is that I'm not even mad at it so I have no argument to not do it again.

Anyway, the blue is from the designated colour of spades and yes, you've guessed right as to why this colour was picked for this suit. I'm predictable, leave me alone. As for the rest, the outfit is inspired by traditional Japanese dress that the Internet told me about (again, Japanese may laugh at me all they want UuU Your culture is very cool but also there was so much info, I hope I got it at least a bit right).

Also I spent like eight hours looking at hanakotoba for this and I've never been this happy about a decision I regretted so much while I was having to draw that many flowers. And you know I had to include The Gay Flower^(TM).

The Japanese iris is now Yuuri's btw.

All the flowers used are: Japanese irises, Jasmine flowers, Forget-me-nots, cherry blossoms, white roses, green carnations and blue roses (Viktor's flower. Read: I am predictable).

And finally!

Queen Minako, Tamer of Minds

Of the Realm of Dreams, she sees your fears, the snares laid by the subconscious and, strict and blunt as she is, she clears a path for the motivated and lets no potential go to waste.

Again, haven't read a word of the fic.

This one was by far the one that I made the fastest and I would've loved to do more with it but like deadlines. I'm gracefully skipping over the fact that I set the deadline and am fully to blame for being late.

But, as with Yuuri, blue is for spades. And since I wanted her to have a leotard but still match Yuuri and make her outfit look even slightly Japanese inspired, sheer fabric to the rescue! With cherry blossoms, of course, because CSP had the pattern preinstalled UuU

And I don't know if it worked but I tried to make her hair both look like her signature style, traditional Japanese hairstyles I found on the good ol' Interwebs and then kind of a spade by having that middle stick be the stem and the hair the spade's butt.

Also this probably goes without saying but the ranks of the characters are just titles. Yuuri is not married to Minako, she is just the Queen and he the King, don't worry.

Again, a BIG thank you to everyone who also participated, it was so fun to work together on this and see everyone's progress! Nic and Lil, you're amazing, thank you so much for everything you've done for this!

And to everyone who's made it this far, thank you for sticking around and please go check out all the other art and the ficlets! I promise it's worth it!

Masterpost | AO3 collection

[lady-of-ocs]

Just finished Yuri!!! on Ice for the first time and dear god, why didn’t I watch this sooner? The animation for the skating is pure beauty and I adore each and every character (special shoutouts to Phichit, Christophe, and Yuri(o)!). Viktor and Yuuri’s romance was so, so good and I’m truly violent over the fact that I don’t get to see more of them (fanfics here I come!). I salute you long time fans because I’ve been here for three days and I would kill a man (/j for legal reasons) to get more content. Yuri Plisetsky my absolute LITTLE GUY. Imma squish him. He’s such a brat but he’s got a good heart and I love him. All the forehead kisses for Captain cranky cat ears. Bonus points for grandpa and his pirozhikis.

I started ice skating at about age five and skated almost weekly during skating season for years of my life. A childhood dream was to compete and one day go to the Olympics. This show hit me deep in my gut and I’m so happy and yet wounded by it. The pure adoration I have for this show (I literally binged the first 8 or 9 episodes in one sitting because I couldn’t put it down, and the only reason I didn’t finish the others was because I had to study for an exam or risk failure). It’s about ice skating and a beautiful relationship between these two men. I love the connection between the characters (Phichit and Yuuri’s friendship is so fucking sweet and I love the absolute chaos that is Chris and Viktor) and how unique everyone’s skating style is. The costume designs are absolutely killer (I’m partial to Yuuri’s short program costume, Yuri(o)’s free skate costume, and I really enjoy Otabek’s costumes). Chris gets a special mention again because the consistent ass shots during his routines made me fucking cackle. He’s so sexy, I hate him lmao.

Anyway I’ve been here for two paragraphs and I could go on and on about the show. I don’t feel the pain of waiting seven years for Adolescence, but I do understand it now and I’m carrying some of your burdens with you.

In conclusion, I love ice skating and gay people, and I love it even more when those two things are combined.

[probablyscreamingintothevoid]

It wasn't even 10:30 when I read the message from my friend: "What you lack in your childhood is what you seek in your adulthood" with an upside down smiley face at the end.

I replied, "Eddie Munson???" immediately and as a joke because I can't stand a serious thought for more than a moment. But it felt disingenuous and dismissive, I could tell my friend had more to add to their thought so I followed up with, "On a serious note, this is so fucking true."

My friend either didn't catch my joke or is a saint and chose to overlook it, continuing the conversation with, "think of what Wayne is to Eddie" with another upside down smile. "Hopper to Eleven🙃" And to my serious note they said, "So you realized that already👀"

Of course I did, I wanted to respond. But I waited, giving myself a moment to process all of these things. I finally sent back, "Give me a broken father figure who works on bettering himself for his kid even if he thinks it's going to kill him." Barely thirty seconds pass but I start to worry. "This is something I crave. It's why I try to be so solid for my niece."

"And you actively write wholesome, fatherly acts in your fics whether you intentionally do so or not."

And shit if that didn't get me thinking just how telling writing can be. Of course I write about Wayne Munson and Jim Hopper. I know it is my inner child still begging my late father to look at his children with as much love as Hopper has for El. My childhood lacked a father who could over come his own personal demons and be present for his children, it almost lacked any father at all. How could I possibly not love Wayne Munson for how he defended his nephew up until the bitter end?

What you lack in your childhood is what you seek in your adulthood.

How very true this is. It is why I have given my original characters sound family units, a father or father figure always there to save the day. It is why, even in the brief amount of time I worked with the thought of Kirishima's father being a villain i made him a desperate man, not a bad one that would hate his child for wanting to become a hero. It is why I have spent weeks writing thousands of words about how steady a presence Wayne is for Eddie, how he and Hopper collectively ensure that none of those children ever feel alone again. It is why Otabek has grown up in my story believing that his step father is his dad and why that doesn't change even once he is told the truth, because that man is his dad.

While I'm here sharing my truth I should add that it is the reason I write so much relapse and recovery. I gave Kirishima an older sibling who uses drugs until it tears him apart. but after years of struggling he begins to recover, finally able to be a good big brother, both of them happier than they ever imagine possible. It is what my younger self never got and what my current self still longs for.

What you lack in your childhood is what you seek in your adulthood.

How true this is. My God how it shapes you and all you give to the world.

[arabellafaith]

If you’re the same Arabella Faith who wrote “the bodyguard” on AO3 I want to fight/kill Alex and I just want poor Yuri to be happy. I cried from how sweet Otabek’s relationship with him is. Maybe I’m just emotional since it’s almost 5 am.

I am! Glad you found me on Tumblr 😜 don't worry, Yuri definitely gets a happy ending. I actually reworked Bodyguard as an original novel and gave them a bit of extra content in the book. You can find it on Amazon under the title Bound to Please 🥰

[capsensislagamoprh]

Otabek sat in the room he shared with Yuri, headphones on, tracks running over his laptop in multiple successions as he bent the beats to flow with each other. Lead ins, drops, overlays, tone shifts - so many changes needed to be done without ruining the integrity of the pieces. His focus was laser sharp, his world reduced to a single fourteen inch screen for hours at a time. He remembered to eat because Yuri brought him things. He remembered biological needs because his body wouldn't let him forget. Aside from running with Yuuri in the early morning (for him, end of the night for Yuuri) he gave himself thirty minutes for grooming, and two one hour breaks to keep his sanity. At precicely ten every night for the last week Yuri would walk in, take his laptop away, and plop down with a litany of complaints from people he'd gleefully told off for 'piss poor taste' and knowing 'fuck all' about track mixing. The exception was Leo, who he seemed to give some credit to after the older man had agreed with his take on the importance of shifting dissonance within the contemporary field. Or, as Yuri had originally said, "Your old people music is going to kill the fucking vibe. Do better."

Christophe promptly drafted Leo into the 'complaint department', which was fine with Yuri.  He wanted someone else to take the heat after he'd been particularly volatile about the Titanic theme song not being right for the wedding or the dance floor. Fortunately Leo had far more tact, pointing out themes and timing, suggesting other options that would fit the same orchestrated grandeur without bringing to mind the death of several hundred in an unforgiving, icy ocean. Yuri almost broke his phone as the entirety of three Celine Dion CDs was dropped into the chat.

At the appointed hour Yuri tugged the laptop away from Otabek, who took a moment to reorient, finally focusing when he saw a cup of tea steaming next to him on the floor. Otabek removed the headphones and set them aside as Yuri dropped between his legs, pressing his back to the brunette’s chest. "Look at this shit," he said without preamble. Holding his phone out where Otabek could see it too as he scrolled through the text chat.

It was pinging wildly, different time zones throwing different songs into the list. "Yuuri is starting to pull his hair again. Victor is thrilled by the attention," he said while puffing blond locks off his eyes. "I'm straight up telling people ‘No’ when they make stupid choices, and Leo makes smart arguments when someone gets really pissy about it."

"He's not so bad, hum?"

Yuri glared up at his friend. "I never said he was. It's JJ who's an ass."

"Hmm," Otabek took a sip of tea. "You never quite told me why you're so mad at him."

"You mean aside from making fun of me and my fans, calling me princess, and being a whole bag of dicks?"

" A whole bag? Really? Seems like a lot."

Yuri rolled his eyes. "It's not like he ever goes out of his way to be nice to me. He just waltzes in, has everything handed to him when he doesn't deserve it, and then just fucks off to the ass end of nowhere to live his perfect little life like he didn't just fuck up everyone else’s."

"He worked hard to learn his skills, Yura."

"Fine. He can skate, kinda," Yuri grumbled reluctantly, "but he's not better than you. You should have metalled."

"Still not over it?"

"Never!"

Otabek chuckled, his breath feathering the blond's hair. "I can't win everything, Yura."

"Obviously not. I'm going to win everything. You should win everything I am not competing in, and when we're competing against each other, you should come in second."

"Is that how it is?"

"Yes. That is how it is."

"So matter of fact."

"I know when I'm right." Yuri made a grabby hand motion in the direction of the cup, not taking his attention away from the messages. Otabek held the cup so Yuri could take a drink of the calming brew, the blur of scrolling suggestions faster than he could keep up with.

"Chris wants to know if you can squeeze out an after party mix. I told him I'd ask, but no promises. You're overworked as it is."

"Umm," Otabek agreed. "Maybe. Depends on how many more changes Yuuri and Victor make. They seem to adjust their song selection often. I did not know they were so indecisive."

"Nah. I think it's because Katsudon doesn't want to piss off anyone and baldy is distracted by shiny things."

"Thank you for dealing with the-" a dark hand waved in the general direction of the phone.

"No problem. I don't get a chance to really let loose on someone with sanction that often."

"You've had sanctions to tell someone they,” Otabek peered at the screen, "have the musical taste of a desiccated mastodon's ... pile?"

"Barely digested shit pile. Yes. It's good, yeah?"

"It paints a picture," Otabek admitted. "When did you get sanctions for language like that?"

Yuri stepsided the question with a very neatly placed, "Anyway." Otabek chuckled, thunking the blond head with his chin. The laptop made a pre-programed grinding nose signaling the current file had finished saving. "That is so disturbing."

"It lets me know what's going on."

"Sounds like it's trying to sand its own model numbers off."

"Maybe."

Yuri sat up, tossing his phone to the second futon mat, reaching for the laptop. "Movie time!"

Otabeck gathered up the pillows and spare blanket, propping himself against the wall. As Yuri slid back, pulling himself into his preferred lounging position, he looked through the options, the familiar sensation of Otabek tucking a blanket around them letting him relax. "Something scary?"

"If you like."

"Okay. How about Viy?"

"Think you can make it through this time?"

"Fuck you. I can make it through anything."

"Of course you can, Yura. Your will power is very strong and you are very brave."

"And don't you forget it!"

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7

[kralik-modra]

This beauties arrive yesterday and my brother sign for them cause I was in saturday classes 😂 He took a pic and send it to me...well let's say I almost get kick out of the classroom hahahaha. Anyway my friends are crying out cause I freaked out after read it and message them. I will post a few pictures of them getting their copies soon lol Thank you so much to @kawaiilo-ren for all the hype, nsfw and of course to drowning me more on the oyaturi hell. Greetings from México. And for the anon who is waiting for his package, don't worry, it will arrive uwu/ just patience.

[chauchauchau]

hc: otabek brought dumbbells with him to Hasetsu

Otabek is 19, Yuri is 16, dumb besties. the podium fam (beka included) was on vaca. enjoy!!!

Apparently Otabek and Yuri shares the same room

It was 6 in the morning, Yuri tripped over Otabek's already opened suitcase, and his toes felt like it was burning. "Holy shit! What the-"

Out of curiosity and annoyance, yuri squinted his eyes and took a closer look at that thing.

He realized they were dumbbells. What? Why are there dumbbells here...

Turns out Otabek used them to do morning cardios. "Hey let me use them too!"

Yuri couldn't even stand the first five minutes, but then Otabek handled them with such ease that made Yuri even more jealous. It wasn't that his stamina sucks, he's just never got to carry this much and have proper upper-body focused exercises. "You're built different, Beka! I... can't...!" Just as he breathed out the words, the Russian collapsed onto the mattress with a hiss. "I simply got used to it." Now that he said it, Yuri was reminded that Otabek was trained differently, their body types were different, why can't he have the broad shoulders? But instead of sulking, he turned to harass Otabek.

"Can I touch your arms?" He slapped hard on Otabek's bicep then gave it a good squeeze. The solid, studry feelings initiated his urge to examine his best friend's body more. The fact that Yuri didn't stop fuck around with Otabek's training session made it hard to concentrate. "Yuraaaaa." "Don't mind me. Do your thing." "...Then stop tickling my feet."

Basically Otabek said he could lift Yuri with one arm and he did. But as if things weren't so ridiculous, Viktor walked in on them, just to see a Yuri clinging to Otabek's arm in a weird posture, Otabek lifting him and Yuri just screams in awe.

They had almost an hour more until breakfast, and Yuri devised some more to kill the time. He then challenged Otabek to 100 pushups with Yuri sitting on his back.

Otabek, of course, went along with it.

Yuri kept tickling him, Otabek can't keep his mouth shut, dude literally fell onto the floor and poor Yuri fell even harder. " There's no way im suffering that alone. My turn!" Otabek ran his fingers on Yuri's ribs, got the other boy laughing helplessly.

Another tickle fight, and Yuri learnt his lesson.

basically two dorks in a morning fight and had fun

aahhhh i knew my english was super weird so feel free to correct me! i'm not good w words so might as well draw this into a small dumb comic in the future. UGH I LOVE U GUYS SMMM

(i'd squeal the whole day whenever sb includes their comments/ gay screams abt my works in their hashtags or just straight up comments on my post.. i appreciate it a lot u know 🥺🥺 feel free to interact w me!!!)

[lou-is-lurking]

omg you're writing an Otayuri Buffy AU?!?!?!?!

I've been in a very on and off relationship with this particular WIP for the past... 3? almost 4? years now. So far it's ~40k of chaos and it's haunting me 😅 It has Slayer!Mila (although she's incapacitated for like 99% of the fic lol), Witch!Yuri, DemonHunter!Otabek, Jock!JJ, Watcher!Yakov, Werewolf!Seung-Gil... and more ^^ I can't promise I'll post it any time soon, it's a whole entire mess at this point... But here's a snippet:

“You were engaged to Yakov?!”

Lilia met his eyes with the most icy stare he had ever received from her. Or from anybody else, and that included a literal glacier-demon.

“That is what you decided to focus on?”

When Yuri failed to come up with a suitable response, she shook her head, nostrils flaring.

“We were married for almost five years,” she said crisply, her expression daring him to share his opinion on this. Yuri decided that maybe he was better off if he didn't.

“I don't understand,” he began, referring to the contents of the notebook in general, but Lilia cut him short.

“Be glad about that. Getting married at such a young age is tremendously stupid, and-”

“No- uh, I mean, sure, if you say so. But I meant- all this other shit.” He waved the notebook at her. “What the hell is this?”

“I'm disappointed, Yurachka. Yakov keeps telling me what an intelligent young man you are, but maybe your horrific grades are representative of your cognitive abilities after all, if you are unable to figure this out.”

The seething remark would have made him furious had he not been so utterly confused. He looked back down at the pages and skipped to the point where the entries ended, about two years after Lilia and Yakov had gotten married (an event that Lilia had noted down with nothing more than a short “Wedding today.”).

The last entry was longer than most, and it sent shivers down his spine.

“It was reported that the Slayer, Elaine Grant, was killed in a demon attack yesterday. Today, we received notice that Ragna Borstad has become the new Slayer. It has been decided that, due to my advanced age of twenty-two, my training will be discontinued, as it is now highly unlikely that I will ever be Chosen.”

Eyes wide, Yuri looked up at Lilia, trying to imagine her thirty years younger, sitting down to make one last entry after years and years of training for something that would never come to pass.

“You were a Potential Slayer.”

-

(tbh I don't even know if this scene would make the final cut because I've changed the plot / structure so many times, but I just NEED badass Lilia in my life 🔥)

[yuriplisetsky-rp]

Yuri Altin Dominates Finlandia to Win Season Opener

Is Reigning World Champ unbeatable?

Friday, October 8, 2021

ESPOO, FINLAND – Yuri Altin continues his undefeated streak, as he dominates the free program to win the Finlandia Trophy. Despite some shaky landings on his jumps, he scored 216.45 for an overall score of 322.44, winning the competition by almost twenty points. The 20-year-old has not lost a competition since the 2019 Grand Prix Final, which he lost to the now-retired Christophe Giacometti of Switzerland.  His performance here shows that streak might not be ending anytime soon, though it is worth noting that three of his competitions last season were domestic (or mostly domestic) competitions.

“I’m very pleased with my performances here,” said the 2016 Grand Prix Final Champion. “I know I can do better. The landings were a little shaky, but that’s okay. It’s about the Olympics this season. There’s more work to do, but I’m ready to do it and kill this season.” Altin injured his shoulder prior to the last Olympics, and sustained a hip fracture at the Olympics causing him to withdraw from Worlds, so having a successful Olympic season is surely to be very important to him.

Seung-gil Lee of South Korea has a solid performance, skating clean to win the silver medal. Lee scored 203.32 for his free program to score 303.06 overall. “It was a good program,” the 2019 Grand Prix Final Bronze Medalist told reporters. “There is improvements to be made, of course, but it was a good first outing and everything went as expected for me.” The 24-year-old was ninth in his home Olympics in Pyeongchang, and is definitely looking to be much higher at the Olympics in February.

Alexei Yevtushenko of Russia skated a clean program, a great season opener for him, and won the bronze medal. He scored 198.98 for his free program, scoring 296.36 overall. “I have done my job here today,” said the three-time Russian National medalist. “I want to prove that I belong on the Olympic team, and I have done that. I’m ready to kill it this season and enjoy my first Olympic games.” Yevtushenko, of course, was an alternate to the last Olympic Games, losing out a spot to the Altin (then Plisetsky)-Nikiforov-Popovich combination.

Yevtushenko and Altin will both be seen next at Skate Canada, going up against Jean-Jacques Leroy of Canada and Leo de la Iglesia of the US. Lee’s next competition will be the week before at Skate America, where he will face Emil Nekola of the Czech Republic and four-time World Medalist and Reigning Olympic Bronze medalist Otabek Altin of Kazakhstan.

[crimson-chains]

I ws gonna do this on anon but nvm this works too. I read all ur mafia au at 3am (pls don't kill me hehe) and I'm in love. It's perfect snsnsksks. Ur art is so fluid and adaptive and so pretty to look at skskssk. And then the storyline hnnnnnngngnggg it has my soul now. I've been in love with yuir on ice sins I watched ep1 and u have no idea how much it means to me. Even tho ur story is an au it still feels like the character's essence still remains. The portrayal of yuuri's mental health issues means a lot to me in canon and otherwise and I almost cried when I read that panel where victor finds out how much he struggles. Then theres the relationships, victor and yuri's romance, phichit and yuri's friendship(they'r brotp), yurio and otabek(sksksks I'm dying from all the feels) and I think I caught a whiff of mila and sara too? Sjdjdjdjdjdjs I've had this au for less than a week but if anything happened to jt, id kill every1 in this room and then myself. I live how u portray each character, especially yurio. And victor is such a nuanced character in this au. Sksksks ilysm. Even tho I haven't drawn in a long time, ur art has inspired me to start again. Tysm for making this

OH, THANK THANK OWO

I’m really happy you like the mafia au <3 <3 <3

It’s been so fun to draw the characters and I’m happy you think I write them well!!!! ^W^

[yoificfinder]

hi! i hope youre well! do you have any personal favorite otayuri fics? thank you so much!

I'm doing fine, thanks nonnie! Some of the Victuuri fics I recced have Otayuri as a secondary pairing so do check out the masterlist if you haven't yet. And here are other fics I enjoyed with Otayuri as the main pairing:

(Almost) Made It by Mtrash (Makaria) [E, 35K] *WIP

He sees the blond young man and his first thought is - pretty.

His second thought is - he’s going to die.

(AU where they fall in love while killing zombies and trying not to get eaten. Fun times.)

adventures in personal growth series by stutter [T and E, 23K]

Summary of first fic:

When Victor was his age - younger, even, Yuri thinks, shame blooming in his chest - he’d made the whole world fall in love with him already. The long hair, the soft smile, the way he moved like he had a secret in his skin and he couldn't wait to share it with you. Yuri’s watched the tapes over and over. He could skate any of Victor’s early routines in his sleep. But he can't - the thing Victor could do so easily, the casual, guileless charisma he threw like a shadow - Yuri can't manage it on a single person, not even some moody Kazakh with a dumb haircut whose eyes are too far apart anyway -

(In Park Guell, Yuri takes a hard fall. Otabek picks him up.)

Amor Vincit Omnia by @AuthorMAGrant [E, 80K]

Otabek Altin is the Brotherhood's most diligent soldier, expertly hunting and killing the vampiric enemies of humanity, until he faces a bloodthirsty Russian punk named Yuri who kicks his ass ... and captures his attention as no one else ever has. The lines between hatred and lust blur, and the deeper Otabek falls into Yuri's world, the more he questions the Brotherhood and its orders. Now, what should have been a simple eradication trip to America has become a fight to determine whether Otabek will remain the obedient soldier of his youth or the warrior who may earn a love he's never deserved.

Cities in Dust series by @blownwish-blog [E, 52K] *Underage + aside from Otayuri, also contains Pliroy, Jjbek, and Otapliroy

Summary of first fic:

Yuri Plisetsky met them both on his knees in the boys' room. One would stay, the other could not. America was one fucked up country.

(The 80s high school au you didn't ask for.)

constellations by @worldofcopperwings [T, 2K]

His fingers drop from his hair and slide over the skin above his left hipbone. On the previously unmarked expanse of skin, there is a web of dark lines, connecting to form a geometric outline of a bear.

A soulmark. Yuri furrows his brow. He has a fucking soulmark, and it sure as hell wasn’t there when he showered before work. Which means the person the universe considers predestined for Yuri was at the venue tonight, prompting the emergence of the mark.

Yuri frowns at the bear adorning his hip. He doesn’t subscribe to the concept of soulmates. It’s complete bullshit that someone else gets to decide who Yuri should be with.

From Almaty, With Love series by BoxWineConfessions [E, 155K]

Summary of first fic:

It’s quiet here. Even if the car alarm on the neighbor’s goddamn BMW has been going off for the past twenty minutes. Quiet, even though the alarm’s got the neighbor’s dog howling like crazy, and the neighbor works second shift and isn’t there to comfort the dumb dog.

It’s quiet…They haven’t spoken to each other since that morning, when Yuri went off to go see his tutor, and Otabek went off to do whatever the hell it was he did in the mornings before he hit the rink.

“You’re used to the noise?”

“Yeah, but…I think I like the quiet too.”

Or: Yuri spends the summer with Otabek in Almaty.

hood & glove by @fahye, @hawberries [T, 12K]

"I don't mess with the fae," Otabek says.

"I'm not asking you to mess with them," JJ flat-out lies.

Howl by Anna (arctic_grey) / @finleighsaid [E, 72K]

Yuri Plisetsky may have been a seasoned figure skater at the age of nineteen, but in hindsight he should have known that a steep learning curve was due: his new coach Viktor was in overdrive over his pregnant mate Yuuri Katsuki, who was now retired and waddling around the rink like a ticking time bomb. St. Petersburg was having the hottest summer in decades, training was gruelling, and for the first time since they’d met, Yuri and Otabek began to fall out. Over what, Yuri wasn’t even sure: it was almost as if casual sex with your best friend eventually came with consequences.

OR the alpha!Yuri and alpha!Otabek love slamdown, with a side of obnoxious Viktuuri.

let's not overanalyze by @alykapediaaa [T, 4K]

“I’ve put worse things inside my mouth,” Otabek says, deadpan, prompting a strangled noise from Yuri.

Yuri hisses and tries very hard not to think about the things Otabek had put in his mouth. He fails. “I’m disowning you.”

(Or: Yuri Plisetsky has a crush. Again.)

songs about love series by sarahyyy [T, 8K]

Summary of first fic:

“Are you not going to read the article?” she asks, flopping onto his bed. “Look who ranked second, just after Phichit Chulanont.”

Otabek reluctantly scrolls down, and oh.

#2 - Yuri Plisetsky 

In the embedded Instagram photo just under that subheading, a very grumpy Yuri is cuddling a very grumpy-looking cat. The caption reads: I found the cat version of me at the shelter today. #iknowisaidnomorecats #canyoublameme

(Or, the AU where Otabek and Yuri don't becomes friends in Barcelona, and there are years of pining.)

what's a mob to a king, what's a king to an emo teenager? by @crossroadswrite [T, 12K]

Yuri has very clear and specific instructions about how he should act around Prince Otabek Altin of Khazhakhstahnia, and none of them include giving him the up and down and going “What the fuck are you wearing?”

Prince Otabek Altin of Khazhakhstahnia glances down at his expensive-looking Disney Prince tunic and matching pants that look like they costed more than Yuri’s iPhone.

To be completely fair, he looks very good in it, and Yuri’s surprise was more about how good he looks than the actual clothes. Also the amount of green and gold assaulting his eyes. No one should be allowed to wear that much green and look good.

“Clothes,” Prince Otabek Altin of Khazhakhstahnia says. Then looks over at Yuri, eyeing his leopard print Vans with a raised eyebrow.

Yuri is going to fight him.

(or: the princess protection program au that was supposed to be quick and messy and short, but instead its over 10k and people have emotions.)

You Might Say I Like To Play One-on-One With You by blackmountainbones [E, 3K]

The thing is, Yuri’s seen dicks before. He’s a sixteen-year-old in the internet age; he’s seen more penises penetrate more holes than he can count. It’s not like he’s never seen a real dick, either: between all the time he spends at the rink or at the gym, he’s bound to have seen more than a few naked dongs. Nudity, Yuri thinks, is no big deal.

At least until he catches a glimpse of Otabek in the onsen and discovers that nudity is a very big deal, indeed.

Yuri's Snapshots series by @onotherflights [M and E, 8K]

Summary of first fic:

When Yuri was nineteen, things changed. He fell in love with skating again, and he finally felt like himself after the year he had endured being lost. He fell in love again later that year, but that one had been a long time coming.

I put a limit of one fic per author but I suggest you check out some of these authors' other works (especially those who exclusively write Otayuri) because there are other good stories not included in this list.

Also, as I'm searching for fics to put here (after everything that I remember off the top of my head/found in my bookmarks), I realized there are a looot I've read that I wanna rec but it's overwhelming so let me just link this ao3 search of Otayuri fics sorted by kudos as something to start with.

If anyone else has a fave Otayuri fic or author, please feel free to rec.

---

ETA - Other people's rec:

Pride and Other Madness series by @basilique

Thanks for the rec, @a-midnight-luna! ❤

[justrae2010]

Part 1 

For @you-activated-my-eros

Yuuri’s eyes were still red and raw from crying when he showed up at Minako’s house a week after the docks, feeling fragile and exhausted. He didn’t want to be there. He wanted to be curled in the blankets in his hotel room with a tub of ice cream but he knew that if he didn’t go to Minako, she would just come to him.

His fingers clenched tight around his cup of tea as he waited in Minako’s sitting room, Victor’s last words to him ringing in his ears.

“Goodbye, Yuuri.”

Yuuri pressed his eyes shut, heart aching in his chest.

Victor should have shot him. Yuuri had expected him to shoot him, to get rid of the witness… but he hadn’t. He’d let him live. He’d let him go...

“Yuuri-”

Yuuri jumped to his feet as he heard Minako’s footsteps a second before her voice, setting his cup down on the coffee table with a clatter. He hadn’t seen her in over a year now.

She froze in the doorway the second she saw his face though, eyes going wide at his drawn face. “Yuuri, what are you doing here?”

Yuuri sucked in a shaky breath, tongue darting out to wet his dry lips.

“I-I had to see you...”

He blinked fast to keep his eyes dry. He couldn’t cry now. He wasn’t a child that needed comforting anymore. 

He’d been given a job.

“What’s taking so long?” Minako asked, stepping forward with shrewd eyes. Of course, she’d know something was wrong - Yuuri wasn’t supposed to be here until the mission was done and she’d know that that wasn’t the case... “You’ve been assigned this job for a year now - surely that’s more than enough time to kill Victor Nikiforov?”

Yuuri sucked in a sharp breath, a barb going through him hearing Victor’s name again. He moved his hands behind his back, hiding his clenched fists and digging his nails into his palms to distract himself from the sting in the corner of his eyes. He didn’t want her to see him weak.

“You don’t understand,” he said, voice just about steady. It was nothing short of a miracle... “It’s not that simple.”

“What do you mean?” Minako’s eyes narrowed. “You got the information we needed to take his business months ago. We don’t need him alive anymore.”

Yuuri’s stomach twisted sickeningly. He’d almost trained himself to forget his mission...

“He trusts you now. You even live with him!” Minako folded her arms tightly across her chest. “It shouldn’t be hard at all.”

It wasn’t supposed to be. It had been the perfect plan - seduce Victor and get close enough to steal his business, then dispose of him to drive the rest of the Bravta off of Japanese soil. It had been Minako to suggest Yuuri would be perfect for the job, his relative obscurity working in their favour. Victor would never see it coming that his new lover was actually the youngest son of a Yakuza boss.

“That’s the thing…” Yuuri took a deep breath, unable to meet his mentor’s eye. “I trust him too.”

Minako went stiff. “What are you saying?”

When Yuuri didn’t answer, she took matters into her own hand - literally! Yuuri gasped as she closed the distance between them and cupped his chin, jerking his head up. Her gaze bore into his, unescapable. Yuuri knew it was hopeless…

“Oh…” she breathed, eyes going wide as she understood. Fear seeped into her gaze. “Yuuri, no ... please don’t tell me...”

Yuuri reached up and grasped Minako’s wrist, fingers digging tight into her skin. He didn’t pull her away though. He didn’t deny it.

“I tried my best to stop it…” he blinked, eyes blurry.

And he had. He had really tried, knowing how the mission had to end, knowing what he had to do. He’d tried desperately not to get attached… in the end though, it hadn’t been enough. 

Minako shook her head. “Yuuri, please don’t say it...”

“He cares about me!” Yuuri stopped bothering trying to hold back the tears now, knowing it was a futile battle. He felt the wetness stream down his cheeks, helpless to stop it. “He’s not like everybody says he is. He’s different, if only you got to know him-”

“I don’t want to hear it!”

It was supposed to have been simple. Victor was supposed to have been a monster driven with greed that would be easy to kill … but he simply wasn’t.

Minako let Yuuri go with a hiss, eyes like razors as they bore into Yuuri. For the first time Yuuri had ever seen it, she looked terrified. He guessed it was her life on the line as much as his... “I can’t watch you throw your life away like this!”

It would be the end of everything. 

His father might save him from death, but he wouldn’t have a life anymore. He’d be shut away, hidden away in shame. He’d never be free.

He’d never see Victor again.

That thought stopped the tears, stopped the quivering of his lip. Victor had no idea that they were even coming! He really wouldn’t stand a chance, long dead with all the information that Yuuri had leaked back to his family over the last year undercover. Yuuri might get exile - Minako probably wouldn’t be so lucky, family friend or not. She’d be desperate to spill Victor’s blood for his father.

Yuuri wouldn’t let it happen - but the dark look in Minako’s eyes told him that it wasn’t up for discussion.

“I won’t let you kill him,” he said, strong enough to surprise himself.

He’d hoped to negotiate. To set the record straight. To explain that Victor wasn’t trying to invade their territory like they’d thought, but Minako clearly wasn’t in the mood to listen.

He let his fists fall back to his sides, still feeling the bite of the gold band on his finger that Victor had given him on their wedding day. It hadn’t all been a lie. He was never supposed to have gotten in so deep, so bound to him, but that was real. The vows that he’d said that day had been real for him. 

It didn’t matter if Victor had used him too, if Victor hadn’t loved him back. He still didn’t want to see him dead.

Minako’s jaw set, her eyes hardening. “I know.”

Yuuri saw her eyes flash too late. 

He whipped round to the open door behind him just a heartbeat before the butt of the gun slammed into his temple. His vision swam, legs giving out beneath him. His fingers burned as his hand swept the tea off the table as he went down, limp as a doll.

His eyes were still rolling back in his skull as he caught a glimpse of his sister standing over him, gun in hand.

“I’m sorry, little brother,” she said.

x

In the Bravta headquarters, a guard barged into the Pakhan’s office. “Boss-”

“What?!” 

Victor snapped up from his papers, headache throbbing and temper short. His eyes were bloodshot. He hadn’t been sleeping well since that night at the docks...

He recognised that guard that had burst through his door in a heartbeat though, irritation melting away into sharp concern - it was Yuuri’s surveillance guard. 

He’d hoped that breaking Yuuri’s heart would have been enough to keep him away and safe, but he hadn’t wanted to take any chances. Yuuri was still a target. He still knew too much. If he had been anybody else, Victor never would have let him live. But he was Yuuri… and even if he had ruined things between them, there was no way he’d leave his husband undefended. 

The dark look in Otabek’s eyes told Victor all he needed to know long before he opened his mouth though. 

His blood ran cold.

“It’s Yuuri,” Otabek said. “He’s missing.”

[crookswithbooks]

Frozen Confessions

Yuri and Otabek go ice skating and also realize some things along the way. Before I start this I would just like to say that I do not own Yuri on ICE!!! or anything related to it. I hope you enjoy!

The sharp hiss of knives against ice as he flew in the air, suspended for a moment in the sky, before plummeting back to the ground and twirling back into his arms, breathing heavily. All these thing Yuri loved about ice skating; the feel of it, how it made him soar, made him greater than he was. He caught his breath, grabbing onto Otabek’s arms for support. The muscled man raised an eyebrow at the flush on his cheeks. “Someone’s enjoying themselves.”

Yuri hit his arm weakly, but there was no menace behind the action. He couldn’t be angry in this weather, crisp and cool against his face, sweaty and freezing at the same time. God, he loved winter. 

“Yeah, yeah, chuckle face, let’s just see you do better.” He raised his chin in a dare, pushing off from his chest and skating away a couple of feet. 

Otabek grinned and the sight made Yuri’s heart stop for just an instant. “Is that a challenge?”

Yuri shrugged his shoulders, crossing his arms and waiting. 

Otabek chuckled, darting across the ice in one swift motion and twisting around, his body arching as he threw himself into it. He leapt across it in one great jump, spinning in the air, his feet landing solidly against the ground as he did. Yuri could see his eyes were closed as he threw his head back and he knew that even through his cocky attitude, he was enjoying himself, lost in the rapture of the ice. 

Yuri yelped as he felt arms wrap around him unexpectedly, lifting him into the air. He looked down to see Otabek grinning up at him, his eyes sparkling. He squirmed in his grasp, laughing. 

“You’re gonna drop me, you idiot,” he insisted, as Otabek jerked forward suddenly into a dip, sending Yuri’s heartrate through the roof. He slapped him lightly on the back as he pulled him back up, pretending he hadn’t almost pissed himself. Otabek just laughed, shaking his head as he set him down, still holding him in a tight bear hug. 

“You’re ridiculous, you know,” Yuri pointed out, ducking his chin against the cold. 

“And you’re beautiful,” Otabek murmured against his neck, making him shiver. 

Deciding to go out to the lake had been Victor’s idea, one that Yuri had protested heavily the entire way to the lake. It wasn’t until they had gotten there and both Yuuri and Victor had taken off that he had realized what their original plan was; to get the two of them alone and end this stupid game of will-they-won’t-they that they’d been playing for months now. Honestly, Yuri was gonna kill that bastard. 

Yuri blushed at the compliment, looking away towards the trees lining the park and the many pedestrians walking the paths and giving the two of them odd looks as they passed. Yuri felt his skin prickle as their eyes watched them and he tried to squirm away from Otabek, his face burning. 

“What are you doing?” Otabek asked, amusement lacing his voice. But he let him go and Yuri wrapped his arms around himself, glaring. 

“People are watching us!” 

“Is that a problem?”

“Yes!” At Otabek’s raised eyebrow he rephrased his wording. “I mean no, not technically, but…”

“But…?” Otabek prompted. 

Yuri looked away from him, his jaw set in determination. “It’s embarrassing,” he mumbled at last, fists clenched against his sides. 

“I’m embarrassing?” Otabek asked, and Yuri could hear the hurt in his voice. 

“No, no, of course not! It’s just you, me, this situation…” Yuri trailed off but the implication was left hanging there. 

“Which is?” Otabek crossed his arms, staring hard at him. “What exactly is this situation?” 

Yuri shrugged helplessly, which was apparently the wrong answer as Otabek sighed, turning away. “God Yuri. Why do you have to make everything so complicated?”

“What are you talking about?” Yuri asked defensively. “I’m not the one making things complicated.”

“Yes, you are! One moment I think we’re on the same page and you feel the same—” he broke off, his ears pinkening a little. “The same way I do,” he continued, looking at him. “And other times you treat,” he waved a hand between the two of them, “whatever this is like it’s nothing, non-existent.” He sighed, scrubbing a hand through his hair which was mussed from all the exercise. “I just want to know how you feel. About this. Us. Or else I don’t think I can keep doing this.”

The perfect moment they had been having just seconds ago was crumbling more and more as Yuri tried to find something to say, to summarize his complicated feelings. Because they were complicated. He knew he liked Otabek, that much was obvious, in a way that he was beginning to think was more than friends. He knew that he wanted to spend time with him and always felt happier when he was around. He knew that every time their skin touched he felt a million times lighter, freer than he’d felt in a long time. 

But he also knew that they were two guys and that the press was merciless. He didn’t know how Yuuri and Victor had done it. Not to mention, he hadn’t yet admitted to himself what he felt, scared of the repercussions of breaking the bubble they were in right now. So to answer a question as seemingly simple as how he felt was near impossible. 

Otabek took a step back as he took in his silence, shaking his head. “Okay. I understand. If you didn’t like me that’s all you had to say. I could’ve saved a lot of time and effort if you did.” He turned to walk away, his skates hitting the ice harshly as he did. 

“I do like you!”

Otabek paused and a couple passerby’s turned their heads to see what all the shouting was about. Yuri’s face was on fire and his legs trembled, threatening to drop him. Stupid fucking legs, stupid fucking feelings, fuck, fuck, fuck.

Otabek turned around to face him, and his eyes were narrowed, on guard. “You do?” 

Yuri took a deep breath, scratching his arm. “Yeah, I… I do. A lot, actually.” 

Otabek frowned, shifting on the ice. “If you’ve liked me all this time why do you keep doing that?”

“That?”

“Pulling away whenever I try to get close. Every time I thought you might actually…” He shook his head. “And you’ve liked me all this time?” 

Yuri nodded. 

“Then why do you pull away?” 

Yuri shrugged again, the feeling of not-knowing infuriating him the more it went on. “I don’t know! I just… I wanted things to stay the way they were. In case I screwed something up. In case things went wrong and you decided I wasn’t worth it. You might not have noticed, but I can be a pretty shitty person sometimes.”

That made Otabek laugh, a bark of laughter that made his whole face glow. “Yeah, you kind of are.” 

“Thanks a lot, Beka.” Yuri smiled hesitantly, before continuing. “I was worried you would see that and realize that I could never measure up to you. How could someone as amazing as you possibly like someone like me?”

The words were heavy as he said them, and as soon as they were out of his mouth he felt a million times lighter. Maybe Otabek would reject him but at least he finally released the feelings he’d been feeling for months, maybe even a year now. He shot a nervous glance up at the other man, seeing how he would take it. 

Oh god, it was worse than he had thought. Otabek was glaring him and Yuri stumbled backwards as he began to march towards him. He opened his mouth to make a protest when Otabek grabbed his arms and pulled him tight against him, pressing their mouths together. 

Yuri’s eyes widened. Otabek’s lips were softer than he had thought they would be, but still rougher than a girl’s. His arms curved around him, holding him loosely enough so as not to be suffocating, but tight enough that all he could feel was Otabek, pressing against him, kissing him, holding him. He felt his lips part as Otabek ran his tongue along his bottom lip, making him shudder. He had never been kissed like this, with such fervor, like the only moment they had was now and they had to make the most of it. Yuri felt his knees weaken and he clung onto the other man for support. 

When they finally pulled apart Otabek’s face was flushed, his eyes drinking him in as though this was his first time seeing him and he wanted to savor every part of him.

“You idiot,” he murmured, running strong fingers through his hair, come out of its loose bun. “How could you ever think I wouldn’t feel the same way? All this time I was worried you didn’t feel the same way and the whole time you…” He couldn’t finish his sentence, burying his face in Yuri’s shoulder. “God, Yuri.”

He smelled so good, Yuri thought. How had he never noticed that before? He wanted to hold him there forever and never let him go, but eventually he did, taking a step back.

“We should, uh, we should probably get back to practicing.” He was aware his face was burning as he talked and Otabek’s smug grin was only making things worse. He coughed, turning away and skating back out on the ice. “We should finish before it’s dark.”

Otabek rolled his eyes as he skated after him. “Yeah, whatever dork.” But there was still a smile on his face and Yuri realized he had never been happier than that moment.

Maybe Victor’s idea wasn’t so bad, after all…

[yurionice-secretsanta]

To  @cruria  From  @cadencekismet

let me count the ways – / or shrink to a phrase like an epitaph

title from “The Love Poem” by Carol Ann Duffy

 Yuuri couldn’t take his eyes off of the ghost hound. She had appeared nearly a week ago, lurking around his family’s inn. Vicchan had been one thing. He had been so small. Yuuri used to carry him in his arms. This one looked almost as big as Makkachin.

 Even now he couldn’t take his eyes off of her where she sat beside him.

 Christophe answered his call. “Yuuri.” As always, the man purred his name like he was trying to lure Yuuri to bed.

 Yuuri smiled. “Christophe. I- I thought maybe you might know something about ghost hounds? Mine got-” It was still difficult to talk about Vicchan. “He was run over by a carriage near midwinter last year” – during their competition – “but there’s a new ghost hound here who’s been following me around since I came home. I’ve never had a strange hound be so friendly.” Yuuri tilted the flat disc of magic he held between his palms so Chris could see the spectral beast beside him.

 “I- Yuuri, that’s Makkachin.” Chris slumped. “Thank goodness. Viktor’s with you?”

 Yuuri snorted. “Don’t be absurd, Chris. Why would Viktor be here? And Makkachin never leaves Viktor’s side. She’s famous for it.” The hound bounced up and placed her paws on the roll of fat just above Yuuri’s hips when he said the name. She was heavier than Vicchan, even like this.

 Yuuri looked back at Christophe. “Viktor is missing?”

 Now that he was looking, he could see the stress lines on the other man’s forehead and around his mouth.

 “People are looking for him, right?”

 Chris pressed his lips together. “He’s Viktor.” And then, “He disappeared last week. I’m staying in his apartment and watching Yuri while Yakov and Lilia look for him, but. They haven’t gotten much.” There were always jealousies directed towards those on top. If someone didn’t find him soon, Viktor could slide away forever.

 Yuuri nodded to himself. “I’ll be there tomorrow. Where’s the nearest materialization point? Makkachin will track him better from there. I assume there are relics of him in the apartment?”

 Lilia was a strong witch. If she didn’t have a trail after a week, Viktor couldn’t want to be found. He’d sent his ghost hound away. He hadn’t told anyone that he was leaving.

  Outside, snow began to cover the pink blossoms on the trees. Yuuri packed his bags quickly. He would borrow a horse in Petersburg, if he and Makkachin picked up a trail. (They had to pick up a trail.)  Yuuri’s magic was inconsistent – anxiety made him doubt himself, and that weakened the spells – but he was better at finding magics than the fiddly artsy spells they used in competition, and he had the stamina to keep the pointing spells up even while he was asleep. He never wasted time travelling in the wrong direction after something.

 He had been thinking of retirement since Midwinter. He could become a guide for the guests at his parents’ inn, and he could quietly fade out of sight. The final few moons of his apprenticeship hadn’t suggested anything different, but he’d been planning to press on anyway. He hated to fail in front of the crowd, but he loved to prove his mastery in front of them. It was ironic that this was how he didn’t go back.

  All the Masters looking for apprentices would be booked after next week’s fair. But Viktor had inspired years of magic in Yuuri. It was only fair that Yuuri seize this chance to pay him back while he could.

 Painting competitions were beautiful. Yuuri was nine when he fell in love. He loved to observe the ways different Painters worked with their elements in different ways. His friend Phichit was a water witch like Viktor. Phichit’s Painting burbled in waves and waterfalls in the air. Yuuri worked in earth. He Painted dreamy pictures in earthy tones out of the dust and mud and rock dust in the area. On the other hand, Otabek, new to the senior division, had eschewed the traditional subtlety of earth witches and opted for bolder strokes. Yuuri could cover the entrance to the arena with unbroken wall and no one would know that it was there. Otabek could erase himself, or the ground you stood on. He could Paint something deep underground and Paint a hole so you could see it.

 Chris and Yuri’s fellow apprentice Mila were fire witches, but while you could warm yourself at Mila’s Painting, Chris’s was designed to draw viewers in like moths. Young Yuri Plisetsky created amazing fire illusions, the sort that would scorch anyone who tried to get too close. Air witches were the rarest. Well done, Painting with air magic was unparalleled, but many air witches were unimaginative. Sara and Mickey, twins on the circuit, were both air witches, but while Sara could spin delicate mirages and even Paint scents into her Paintings, Mickey’s Paintings were all vortexes designed to “chase off the boys. They’re like hyenas going after Sara.”

 Viktor worked in the most delicate of ice crystals. The first time Yuuri had huddled around the viewing ball and watched Viktor Paint the arena, he’d known that this was the only thing he wanted to do. Viktor had been breathtaking. Yuuri had spent years hoping to someday meet the other man as his equal. Instead, of course, he had gotten the news about Vicchan in the middle of the competition and crashed and burned so shamefully he thought he might never get over it.

  There was a squawk from Yuuri’s left as he stepped through the portal from the materialization point into Viktor’s home. Makkachin bounded in beside him. He turned, already panicking. He didn’t know why he’d thought any of this would be easy. Sure enough, there stood the Russian Yuri, arms crossed over his chest and a scowl on his face. A pale, semi-translucent dragon slumped on his shoulders, half hidden behind the curtain of hair. The boy turned to Christophe and snarled.

 “This is who you thought could help?” He flapped a hand at Yuuri dismissively. “He can’t even Paint a simple picture without fading half of it so you can barely see it. He can’t even do the top of his Painting without falling out of the air and smudging it.”

  Yuri Plisetsky was an autodidact. He’d been discovered in some backwater of Moscow, Painting graffiti over building facades. His grandfather was friends with Yakov, so rumor went, and got him an audience, but everyone who saw the boy Paint knew he’d earned the apprenticeship himself. He’d started young, too. People called him The Punk, although his signature on pieces was always Dragon. He had found Yuuri trying to hide by the latrines after the Midwinter games. Had snarled at him to retire and become a hedgewitch, since that was clearly all he was good for. One Yuri was enough, and Yuuri needn’t stick around any longer to sully their name.

 Yuri ought to be glad that Yuuri would have no choice but to retire now.

  Yuuri sighed and answered for Chris. “Makkachin came to me. And I may sometimes miss the technical points in Painting, but I grew up Tracking. If anyone can find him, I can.”

 Yuri sized him up. “Take me with you. You might need… I know him. You need me or Chris.”

 Yuuri glanced at Chris, who smiled and shook his head ever so slightly. “You’d kill to blend your colors half as well as Yuuri, or place the accents as skillfully. And Lilia said to keep you here. If she comes back and you and I aren’t both here she’ll eat me alive. We’re staying. I don’t think Yuuri will have any trouble bringing Viktor back if he finds him.”

 Yuuri glanced at Makkachin. He wished he had half of Chris’s confidence.

 Yuri was still watching him, his green eyes sharp. He stepped into Yuuri’s personal space. In spite of that, his voice was loud when he spoke. “Look, if you’re going alone, there are things you need to know. He left you the dumb mutt, so he wasn’t planning to come back.” He glanced around the room. “I don’t think anyone kidnapped him. I think the idiot kidnapped himself.” Yuuri hadn’t even considered a kidnapping. It was just possible that someone might get the jump on Viktor so thoroughly that he couldn’t Paint himself an escape route in a week or that someone might manage to separate him from Makkachin. Not both.

  He trudged through the dark and the grey. He had let his horse loose outside the city, to help throw Yakov off his trail. For the rest, he used mirrored ice crystals. They would hide him from anyone looking. The snow smoothed over behind him. He didn’t know where he was going except away. (After- but after it wouldn’t matter who found him.) Already, the ice crystals were sinking into his skin. It glittered when he moved his hand, the only way he could tell it was there. After he turned to ice he would thaw. Uncontrolled, he would melt away. The only trace left to find would be his coat and scarf on the snow.

 When he was young, Viktor had met a hedgewitch and he had bartered away his happiness for glory. He’d thought the trade a bargain. With glory would come triumph, and what was triumph but joy? It turned out that glory was nothing but grey without his happiness. Since Midwinter, even the grey was leaching out of his world, until Viktor had decided that if the world was going to fade snow-white, he would fade with it. (There were cursebreakers who could help. They would teach you how to fool the curse and to Paint the world for yourself. Viktor was too tired to fight. Fading seemed easier.)

  Yuuri left early the following morning on a shaggy bay pony. A rangy chestnut trailed along behind for Viktor when they found him. Makkachin bounced ahead. Yuuri dismounted at the city limits and dug in his pocket for the relic he and Chris had chosen.

 He was just tying Viktor’s hair back to the comb, now tightly braided in its single strands, when there was noise behind them. Makkachin bounded over to the newcomers.

 Yuuri pretended not to notice them until he finished tying it off and tapped the comb to the earth. There Viktor was, half a week’s ride ahead. He kept that connection as he turned to the teenagers.

 “Yuri, Otabek.”

 Yuri’s chin jutted out. “We’re coming. Otabek can hide us, and Potya will keep us warm at night.”

 The connection to Viktor wavered and Yuuri scowled and concentrated until it steadied again.

 Yuri waited impatiently. “Lilia has been teaching me to draw scents.” Only air witches could work in scent. Yuuri couldn’t think of a single reason why Yuri would pretend to be a fire witch when he wasn’t. Yuri sneered at him like he knew what Yuuri was thinking. Yuuri decided that he was just happy to have left fifteen far behind him.

 Yuuri would travel faster without them, but if he sent them back now there was no way Yuri would return. Maybe he would need Yuri to help convince Viktor to return. They clearly knew each other.

 Yuuri sighed. “Did you bring horses?”

 Otabek smiled. “They’re even our horses.”

 Yuri turned to his friend with a scowl and Yuuri laughed.

  Although Yuuri was the only one who knew where they were going he let Makkachin lead them and took up the rear. Otabek didn’t seem put off by Yuri’s antagonism. Instead, they rode in a companionable silence so practiced and comfortable that it expanded to include Yuuri. He was shocked to find out that they had just met.

 “Otabek’s Master has been helping me while Yakov is off looking for Viktor.” Yuri scowled and ducked his head so that his bangs curtained his eyes. Yuuri wondered if there was a reason so many of Yakov’s students used the trick.

 Potya spent most of the day perched on Yuri’s shoulders. She would huddle under his loose hair, more visible in the lump she created there than when she flew beside him like an ice crystal against the snow.

  All of them protested when Yuuri called a halt for the night, even Makkachin, who strained to look into the wind for a long minute before circling back around to sulk at the base of the cliff by the horses. Yuuri crossed his arms against Yuri and Potya’s matching belligerent stares and Otabek’s frown.

 “The horses need rest and so do we. This is the first point where we’ve had any real protection from the wind in hours.”

 Yuri’s fists clenched and unclenched. “And Viktor? What if he doesn’t have shelter?”

 Yuuri couldn’t think about that. “He’s a good three day ride away. Riding on wouldn’t get us there any sooner.”

  He moved slower as the ice sank in. His limbs creaked if he tried to step too far. His breath puffed out in little snow showers from his mouth. His stomach growled. The ice still hadn’t sunk very far. Maybe his lips were solid ice now but his teeth were cold and chattering from the ice in front of them. He just wanted to sleep.

  Yuuri noticed it near the beginning of the third day riding (he prayed to any gods listening that they would catch up to Viktor, if not tomorrow then the day after. The other Painter was moving much too slowly. Yuuri was worried sick about him) Otabek turned to ask Yuri a question and just caught him as he lurched half out of his saddle.

 Yuuri trotted up on his other side, even as Yuri batted his friend away. “I told you last night Otabek. I’m fine!”

 “So fine you nearly fell off your horse?” Otabek looked unimpressed.

 Yuuri frowned at their youngest companion. He looked exhausted. “What have you been doing?”

 Yuri snarled. There were tears in his eyes (he was clearly exhausted. Yuuri kicked himself inwardly for not noticing earlier). “I’m hiding our scent. Someone keeps trying to draw it. I’m fine.”

 Yuuri couldn’t think of any air witches with any business following them. “You’ve tied it away and they’re still drawing it?”

  It took nearly twenty minutes of Yuuri digging up half-forgotten descriptions Minako had given him of the method she used to stop people following her before Yuri managed it. Privately, Yuuri resolved to buy Minako some good vodka before he returned home.

 By nightfall Yuri had needed to retie their scent three times.

 Yuuri scowled back into the night. “Who would be following us? Lilia is a water witch, right?” Everyone knew Lilia Baranovskaya was a water witch. Yakov and Georgi were fire witches.

 Yuri shrugged sullenly. “The hag’s probably got her girlfriend trying to find us.” He sat against a tree and hid a yawn.

 Yuuri had a terrible thought. “Did you stay up all night last night Yuri?”

 Yuri didn’t bother answering.

 Otabek met Yuuri’s gaze and winced.

 Yuuri sighed. “And who’s the hag?”

 Otabek answered for his friend. “Mila Babicheva. Her girlfriend is Sara Crispino.”

 Yuuri hesitated. “And will they try to stop you from coming to bring Viktor home, Yuri?”

 The boy shrugged. “I don’t want to play probability with Viktor’s life if you don’t mind.”

 Yuuri sighed. “Well I’m not taking any risks with your life either. Either you sleep tonight or I’ll leave you here in the morning for them to find. I won’t have you falling off your horse.”

 He hoped it wasn’t obvious what an empty threat it was. Yuri scowled.

 “Stupid old man, dragging us all out here and making us worry. When we find him I’m going to tell him exactly what I think of him.”

 “He’s disappeared himself into a blizzard already. Don’t you think he’s been punished enough?”

 “No,” Yuri snapped, and turned over so his back was to Yuuri and Otabek. In minutes, he was asleep.

  Yuuri woke to a string of angry Russian curses. There was a portal closing on the ashes of their fire. Yuuri was on his feet and between the newcomers and Yuri and Otabek before he recognized them. He relaxed slightly.

 “Do you know how dangerous it is to walk through an unbraced portal?” He frowned at Mila and Sara. “I don’t suppose you at least had someone else open it at the other end?” The remains of their portal sparked at the edges as the fire caught it and burned it away. Yuuri suppressed a sigh. A balanced portal – even a one-sided one – wouldn’t burn like that.

 Sara flushed and reached to remove the oxygen from their fire before it burned through the portal and started a fire wherever they had been. Yuri tsked and closed a fist over their portal. It disappeared.

 He scowled at Yuuri. “If you hadn’t made me go to sleep this would never have happened.”

 Yuuri sighed. “Are you going to try to take him back?” He moved so he was still between Yuri and Mila. “I don’t really know Viktor. If he sent Makkachin away I might need someone else who knows him better than I do to get him back.”

 Mila shook her head. “Of course not. We’re coming too.” She frowned at Yuri. “He’s my fellow apprentice too.”

 Yuri had the grace to look ashamed.

 “What about horses?” Otabek spoke for the first time. “We didn’t bring spares.” He glanced at the chestnut Yuuri had brought for Viktor.

 Sara smiled. “That’s what I’m here for. Well, aside from drawing your scent for tracking.” She raised her hands and twisted. Two strands of wind detached themselves and knotted into horse shapes, visible only because of the powdery snow. One of them snorted, sounding like the wind whipping around the eaves of a house at night. Yuuri looked at the Russian boy. He had turned to saddle up his own horse. Yuuri shrugged and turned to his own horse.

  Having Mila and Sara along changed the dynamic of the day’s ride. While Yuri and Otabek had mostly ridden in silence or amused themselves, Mila and Sara liked to talk. They teased Yuri, who yelled at them without looking very angry. Otabek and Yuuri mostly stayed out of it.

 “It was very thoughtful of you to come help Yuuri find Viktor, Yuri.”

 “Shut up, Baba! Like I was going to wait months for Yakov to get tired of looking and come back. It just made sense to go with Katsuki and Makkachin.”

 “You care about Viktor.”

 “What?! That old geezer?” Yuri squawked.

 “I think it’s nice that you care for your fellow apprentices,” Otabek said mildly.

 Yuri’s wordless vocalizations died while he tried to figure out whether Otabek was making fun.

 Mila turned to Yuuri with a wicked grin. “And what about you, lover boy?”

 Yuuri flushed. It wasn’t like it was any sort of guilty reaction. He just flushed easily. It was probably being addressed by these two strange and self-assured witches. They were both excellent Painters, and…

 “It wasn’t very kind of you to drop off the face of the earth after last Midwinter. No one knew where you’d gone, you weren’t at any competitions…” She looked serious.

 “I wasn’t qualified for any competitions,” Yuuri snapped. “I don’t suppose you’d have noticed, but I sort of crashed and burned.”

 “Oh,” Sara smirked. “We noticed. You didn’t seem to mind at the Midwinter banquet though.” Sara hadn’t seemed the sort to be cruel on purpose.

 Yuuri sighed and buried his face in his hands. His bay horse plodded on. He lifted his head. “It’s not an excuse, but my hound had just died. I-”

 The trail to Viktor shivered and thinned. Yuuri broke off and fumbled in his saddlebag for the comb, dropping to the ground and tapping it against the ground three times. The connection steadied, but when he picked it up again two of the white blond hairs were nothing but frost. Yuuri felt a shiver run up his spine.

 He still thought that they would make it to Viktor by nightfall, but he’d never had a tracking trail threaten to disappear that way before. He considered the hairs. Two of the three braids were still fine. He careful untangled the third and turned to Mila.

 “I’m going to try to do a binding spell. I don’t know what he’s doing, but I’m not sure he’ll still be there when we get there otherwise. One of you hold Makkachin still so I can pluck some hairs?”

 “Don’t you think it would be stronger with hair from a person Viktor likes?” Yuri was frowning at him like Yuuri was doing something inexplicable.

 Yuuri hesitated. “I didn’t… You or Mila?”

 Mila and Sara giggled. Even steady Otabek was hiding a smirk. Yuri was exasperated. “I was talking about you, dummy.”

 “I…” Yuuri stared. “Viktor probably doesn’t even know my name.”

 Both of Yakov’s apprentices dropped their heads into their hands. Sara threw her hands in the air and nearly lost control of her wind horses.

 Otabek looked at Yuuri, his voice mild. “He sent Makkachin to you. Midwinter may have just been drowning your sorrow in the nearest pretty face for you, but I feel certain it was more than that for Viktor.”

 Yuuri stared at him.

 Sara got her horses under control. Mila let go of the mane of her horse.

 Yuuri swallowed. “Sorry. I think… I must be missing.” He took a slow breath. “What did I do while I was drunk last Midwinter?”

 Yuri lifted his face to stare at him accusingly. “You don’t remember? What are you even doing here if you don’t- tch!” He kicked his horse into a trot. “I’m going to find Viktor.”

 Yuuri glanced at the rest of them and then trotted after Yuri.

  Yuuri managed to tie the braid of his own hair around the frosty braid of Viktor’s. It wasn’t easy on a trotting horse, but he didn’t want to ask Yuri to slow down. The sooner they were there, the better. He wasn’t even sure that the charm he’d added would do anything. He spurred the horse faster.

  The ice was getting thicker. Soon, he wouldn’t be able to move at all. That was ok though. He was getting numb. It was getting harder to think. Soon, the ice would be so thick that he would freeze solid and then melt with the thaw and run off in rivulets into the river. He hoped it might be peaceful. The lazy stagnant summer river looked peaceful enough. Suddenly, the ice stopped thickening. He would have blinked if his eyelids hadn’t frozen days ago. It was almost more effort than he could contemplate to start the freezing again. The ice began again, more slowly than before.

  They almost rode right past him. Yuri was leading the group at a brisk trot and Yuuri was preoccupied with his galloping fears. Whatever he had done dead-drunk at Midwinter must have been embarrassing and awful, but that offered his panicked mind a wide range of possibilities. Anything seemed plausible. Had he offered to beat Chris at Painting the way he was rumored to Paint when alone – with a different limb in use as the brush – or latched onto Viktor Nikiforov and sobbed over Vicchan without exchanging a word with the near-stranger? Either seemed as likely as anything else.

 The thread leading to Viktor had not firmed as they approached. Instead, and contrary to any usual rules, it had continued to thin and flicker all day. The funk Yuuri was in hadn’t helped, and he blamed his emotional weakness (couldn’t even hold himself together to save Viktor! Pathetic) until the evening light bouced strangely through the ice in a snow drift, throwing a thin arc of a rainbow off an odd angle. Yuuri looked more carefully, then halted to stare.

 Yuri turned and opened his mouth to yell at Yuuri for stopping before he realized what they were seeing. He went white.

 “How do we- Can he be reversed?”

 Yuuri dismounted, dazed. He wished for another water witch. Phichit would have come if Yuuri had thought to ask. He hadn’t even considered that they might need to unravel whatever Viktor had done to avoid being found. Would a water witch have any more idea how to stop this or undo it? Was it even possible?

 Yuuri fisted his gloved hand around the reins until he could feel the edges of the cheap leather through the sturdy glove. Then he grabbed the fingers of the right hand glove in his mouth and pulled it off, letting it drop in the snow.

 Could they even figure out what Viktor had done?

 Yuuri could still feel the flickering connection to the ice sculpture that had been Viktor. He pulled his reins over the pony’s head to hold him where they dropped and stepped forward across the snow.

 Makkachin, whined and lurked near the wind horses Sara and Mila rode.

 Mila’s voice shook. “I’ll call Yakov. We can bring him home and thaw him out.”

 “Idiot.” Yuri was scathing but Yuuri could hear the fear in his voice. “He’s ice. Who’s to say that if you melt him he turns to anything but a puddle of water on Yakov’s carpet.”

 Mila’s voice was sharp, the way Mari’s had gone when Yuuri tracked a customer of their inn right into a blizzard, though Yuuri couldn’t say which fellow apprentice she was that close to. Maybe both.

 “And what would you recommend, if you’re so smart?”

 Yuuri took the last step towards Viktor. He unthreaded the hair from the comb – Viktor’s hair, Yuuri’s, the frost, all of it – and lifted his hand, following the pull of that invisible tracking thread.

  There had been a time he’d run into Viktor in the hallway of an inn at a Painting competition. Viktor was always kind to his competitors. He’d asked Yuuri about his technique and the dreamy way that his Painting that day had come out.

 Chris told stories sometimes – not to Yuuri, exactly, but near Yuuri, as if he knew Yuuri was interested and too shy to ask – about his friendship with Viktor. The way they dared each other to try new foods wherever they went, but Viktor had never let on if there were any he wasn’t delighted by, the impish pleasure he seemed to get out of teasing Chris and Yuri and Yakov.

 Yuuri had watched Viktor one day, bright and smiling and dangerous as he crushed JJ, a fellow water witch, with his flat cheerful disregard.

  Yuuri caught Viktor’s icy hand in his own bare one, linking their fingers and clasping the thin braids between them. Bodies were of the earth. He breathed gingerly, as if it could shatter Viktor to breathe with insufficient care, and thought of everything he knew of the man. The man, not the legend.

  Ice prince, they called him. He felt a hot line across his palm, and then someone took him by the hand, the way his mothers used to when he was small. They drew him back, and Viktor felt the hard shell of ice on him thin, then crack away.

  Yuuri didn’t dare to look at Viktor or the others, afraid. Instead, he concentrated on the little he knew of Viktor – his devotion to his hound, the flair of his early Paintings, the one he’d perfected last fall that spoke to Yuuri in his bones – until the hand in his pulled up and lips touched his knuckles.

 “Yuuri. You do care.”

 Yuuri blinked, and lifted his chin to stare at the silver-haired Painter. “Yuri?” He lifted his voice so that it would cut across the squabbling that continued between Viktor’s worried fellow apprentices. “I take it all back. Call him whatever names you like on the way home. He clearly hasn’t been paying any attention.”

 He glanced behind him in time to see Yuri turn and freeze. Otabek followed Yuri’s gaze and his shoulders slumped in relief.

 “Viktor! You ridiculous idiot.”

 Mila reached over and wrapped her arms around Sara, pulling her girlfriend to her until she could hide her face in the other girl’s shoulder.

 Makkachin interrupted whatever Yuri had been planning to screech at them next by running full tilt to knock them both over.

[missmarquin]

Magnetic, Epilogue

In the future, romantic attraction is literal: each person is fitted with an electromagnetic bracelet which will pull you to your soulmate. It’s hard, wondering who’s out there for you. It’s harder yet, when you have to come to understand yourself first.

CONTENT WARNING: Smut.

Read here on Ao3, where it’s formatted better!

Permeance

Permeance is the measure of the ability of a material, to support the formation of a magnetic field. It is directly affected by how strong the magnetic pull is.

…

1

Otabek’s parents weren’t surprised.

In fact, no one was, but that didn’t really matter, because the only people that Yuri needed to be accepted by were his eventual-future-in-laws. He and Otabek hadn’t talked about that yet, but damned he’d be, if he didn’t put a ring on it.

Yuri had never visited Almaty-- Otabek had always come to Moscow-- so he didn’t know really what to expect. The city was a thriving center of culture, and Yuri was blinded by how… modern it was. He wasn’t sure what he expected, really, but it wasn’t this.

The family home, however, was further out, closer to the countryside. Beka’s family was wealthy and it showed, and not for the first time, Yuri felt incredibly inadequate.

Otabek had warned them. Yuri remembered his side of the phone call, the night after he’d shown up on his doorstep. He remembered the harsh whispering in Kazakh, punctuated by on occasional curse in Russian and Otabek’s pleading tone. It wasn’t often that he sounded desperate, but Yuri wondered if he was worth the risk of potentially losing his family.

Yuri wasn’t stupid, he knew that he wasn’t what they expected of their son. He wasn’t a devout muslim, he wasn’t a successful business man, he couldn’t give Otabek children. Thank fuck that Otabek didn’t give a shit about any of that.

Otabek’s mother was the easiest of the two to please. Yuri had loved her dearly when he was young, and she had always accepted him with open arms. She had known that his mother was dead to him, and she had always promised to love him as her own.

He hadn’t seen her since he was fourteen, he realized as they stood on the porch of their home. She looked older, lines wrinkling the skin around her eyes and mouth attractively. She there, pensive almost, like she was unsure what to do. Especially when her eyes fell onto Beka’s hand, pressed gently against Yuri’s back.

But Yuri demanded to hug her, and she complied, tugging him tightly to her. “Look at you,” she said in accented Russian, pulling back to look at him properly. He towered over her now, no longer this thin and gangly teenager who tripped over his own limbs. And her smile was warm with love, if still hesitant.

Otabek came up behind him, slipping an arm around Yuri’s shoulder. His mother’s grin faltered the slightest bit, and she must have seen Yuri’s do the same, because the next thing she did was reach out to grasp his hand gently.

“It will take time,” she said, “to get used to this. But that is all.”

Otabek’s father was the tough nut to crack.

Yuri wasn’t ever sure that the man liked him, even as a kid, but he was positive he hated him now. Because if looks could kill, this man would have murdered him thrice over, he was sure.

Yuri reached out to shake his hand, and Otabek’s father refused, his eyes narrowed in what looked like offense. Yuri expected it though. What he didn’t expect, was the heated gaze of the man’s wife.

“Sabir!” she chastised, reaching out to swat him.

“Aidana--” he hissed back, turning to her, but stopped dead the moment that her glare narrowed into a silent challenge. Yuri watched as the man swallowed thickly, before taking his hand reluctantly. His grip was tight and stiff, but it was a start at least.

2

For Otabek, there was no question as to what his future held, because it was wherever Yuri found himself.

Yuri nailed his audition, and with it came the title of First Principle Male. Suddenly, he was the most important male ballerino in the entire company and Otabek was so fucking proud.  

When the topic of moving in with each other came to a head, Yuri was uncharacteristically freaked out.

“How can you be so calm about this? This is a big decision,” he’d snapped through the phone line. “We have to think about this.”

“What is there to think about?” Otabek asked, genuinely confused.

“What is there to ask-- Otabek, you’re such a moron.” They were words that Yuri used a lot, and everytime he did, the blow was lessened.

“The obvious choice is that I move to Moscow,” Otabek said simply.

Yuri gaped at him through the tiny little screen, like he hadn’t even considered that he might want to do that. “You-- I mean… You make it sound so simple.”

Otabek blinked at that, holding his phone out before him. It was simple. In fact, his entire life had become pretty fucking simple, after he’d made the decision to come after Yuri. “Yura,” he said easily, “You dance in the Bolshoi Ballet, and what do I do? I sweat my ass off in a garage, fixing the occasional bike. Which by the way, I can do anywhere in the world.”

He watched as Yuri swallowed, his throat bob just the tiniest of bits. “Beka, I--” he started, and then his resolve steeled. “Well then, you better get that ass over here, because I’m literally dying without you.”

Otabek knew and he tugged at his bracelet unconsciously. There was no need to wear it anymore, but he did when they were separated, just to feel the tug. It didn’t pull just his heart to Moscow, it pulled at his entire being.

3

It was like they had gone back in time.

Yuri eased into Otabek’s touch with an astute familiarity. This was how things were, when they had been young. He’d always been aware, he supposed. Best friends didn’t really cuddle on the couch, while watching movies. Otabek would sling his arm around his shoulder, or Yuri would throw his legs across his lap.

But there was a different feel to those touches now. Fingers lingered when they ghosted across skin, and movies were often left forgotten, in favor of each other again. They didn’t need words, only heated touches and lingering kisses.

Yuri had expected Otabek to be hesitant with his affection, but the man had proved him wrong. In fact, it seemed like he couldn’t keep his hands off of him. It didn’t matter what it was Yuri was doing, Otabek just had to touch him.

That day, Yuri brewing tea while wearing sweatpants, staring out the kitchen window like it was actually interesting. Otabek sidled up to him, grabbing onto his hips, just holding. His thumbs rubbed circles across the skin that peeked out over his low-slung waistband.

Yuri turned around to lean against the counter and Otabek adjusted his stance accordingly. “What are you thinking about?” he asked.

“Nothing,” Otabek said, but his dopey grin gave way to his lie. Yuri rolled his eyes, about to pull the kettle off before it whistled, but the other man tightened his grip. “Everything,” he continued with, leaning over and sweeping a hand up to cup Yuri’s face.

Yuri still couldn’t believe that this man was his. He lifted his butt onto the counter, pulling his boyfriend closer, breathing out a quiet, “Beka.”

Otabek smiled, leaning up as Yuri leant down, their lips meeting.

When the kettle went off, they ignored it entirely.

4

“I’ve fasted before,” Yuri said with a huff.

Otabek didn’t doubt that; he’d seen Yuri skip meals to make his preferred weight for perfomances, but-- “Not quite like this,” Otabek murmured, rubbing at Yuri’s feet. It’d been a long and grueling day for the dancer, and he’d already dipped his feet in his daily ice bath. They’d moved on to the part where Otabek rubbed at them, massaging ointment into any cuts and bruises that he suffered. “It’s--”

“It can’t possibly be that bad,” Yuri cut in, and then winced when Otabek pushed against a particularly tender spot on his arch.

“You can’t eat or drink anything from sunup to sundown. And when I mean anything, I mean it. Not even water.”

“Why the fuck would you even do that?” Yuri asked, but then realized how rude that might have been. “I mean, I know it’s what you grew up with and--”

“Yura, it’s fine,” Otabek eased, the corners of his mouth quirking up in amusement. “You already know that I’m a pretty terrible Muslim, all things considered.” Otabek wasn’t really religious, especially when he considered that he had a fucking boyfriend. For a global society that is pretty liberal when it came to sexual orientation, Islam fell a little bit behind.

Tradition, his parents would tell him. Thankfully, they were easing up a bit.

“Then why bother at all?” Yuri asked quietly, a probing question. He didn’t pry to be rude, he seemed honestly curious. Otabek and Yuri talked about a lot of things, but his fall from religion wasn’t a topic that came up a lot-- let alone celebrating Ramadan together. At least, only for the one weekend they visited his family.

“Even if I’m not an active observer, there are things that comfort me,” Otabek finally replied with.

“So… things like starving yourself throughout the day.”

Otabek couldn’t help but laugh at that. “Less so the starving, more so the connection. Eating with the entire family before the sun is up, and then breaking the fast after sundown with a feast. It’s a joyous occasion, and it’s one spent with your family.”

Yuri considered that for a long moment. “So it’s more to do with spending time with them, than your actual beliefs,” he concluded. “Is that why you want me involved?”

Otabek squeezed his foot one last time and then motioned for the other one. Yuri complied immediately. “I want to share everything that I am, with you Yura,” Otabek replied. “And, I think that it might impress my father.”

Yuri perked up at that. “I doubt that, but I’ll try.”

“You’re growing on him.”

“No I’m not, but your mother loves me at least.”

5

Otabek stared at his hand, his first two fingers up to the second knuckle in Yuri’s ass.

“I’m going to fuck this up,” he said, unsure with himself. He wasn’t a virgin; he’d slept with people-- people that were women. This was something different, this was entirely new territory.

Yuri was on his stomach, stretched out like a cat, writhing on the sheets. He could hear his heavy pants, see Yuri’s half-lidded gaze as he looked back to him. It was amazing, how hot and tight Yuri was, and he couldn’t wait until he could just sink into that heat and--

But Yuri had been with men before, and Otabek was one thousand percent sure that he wouldn’t measure up.

“Beka,” Yuri practically whined, “I promise you that you won’t. You already are doing so well.”

Otabek doubted that, but didn’t say anything. He moved his fingers a fraction, pulling out and then pushing back in, scissoring them gently. Yuri moaned, and he took that as a good sign, repeating the motion. They’d talked about this, of course, at length. Yuri had given him every bit of advice he could have possibly wanted, guiding him into what he liked.

So far, so good, Otabek supposed but who’s to say that it’d last?

“God,” Yuri breathed, as his moved his fingers again. “You’re just, I can’t believe, Fuck--”  Otabek paused at that, as Yuri ground his hips back hard. “That’s, that’s--”

“Oh,” Otabek said, leaning forward slightly. He wiggled his fingers around, digging into that particular spot again, and the moan that he wrenched out of Yuri would be worth a hundred deaths, he decided. “That’s the spot, hm?”

“Beka,” the other man whimpered, pressing his hips back, doing anything that he could to get friction.

“Yura, how about another one?” Otabek asked, his free hand flat on the small of his back, soothing the skin there as he pulled his fingers out most of the way. He added another finger when he pressed back in, and he was sure that Yuri just about lost it, grinding against his hand immediately before--

“Fuck, Beka,” he hissed, clenching tight. “Stop-- stop-" Otabek halted immediately, worried that he’d hurt him, but Yuri only moaned in bliss, a flush haze across his cheekbones. “I was close,” he managed finally. “I didn’t want to until-- Otabek, please.”

Otabek swallowed thickly at that, removing his fingers gently. This was it, this was where he’d fuck things up, and they would never have sex again. This was-- Yuri had turned around, pressing his fingers against his chest, guiding him to lean back against the headboard.

“Yura,” he started with, but Yuri was already before him, condom in hand. He leaned over to lick along his length, and Otabek threw his head back at the sensation. Then, he slipped the condom on easily, adding a generous amount of lube.

When Yuri slid back up his body, straddling his hips, Otabek gripped him by the waist. “This will be easier,” Yuri said. “You’ve done so well, Beka,” he crooned, taking his cock in hand. And then Yuri was lowering his hips. “I’ll show you,” he promised.

Otabek’s hands tightened at the intense heat, and the tightness and that-- God above, he wouldn’t last more than a minute. He was going to finish immediately, because he’d never felt anything so fucking amazing.

“Beka,” Yuri moaned, sliding himself down slowly. Otabek was almost certain it was for himself, not Yuri, but it didn’t stop his fingers from curling into Yuri’s hip bones tightly at the slow drag. “I fucking swear,” Yuri said, bottoming out, leaning forward. His hair cascading around Otabek’s face, like a waterfall, and he lifted a hand to Yuri’s cheek.

“Yura--”

“It’s different with you,” Yuri said, rolling his hips. Once and then twice, Otabek stock still because if he even thought about moving his hips...Yuri’s eyes were glazed over, pupils blown wide, as he looked down at him. He looked at him like he was the only thing in the world, at that moment. “I’ve done this before, but never like this, never with someone that I love--”

Otabek came immediately, his hips jerking suddenly, and he grimaced. He’d screwed this up, he hadn’t lasted and Yuri would make fun of him forever.

Yuri didn’t though. Instead, Yuri grabbed at his face, rubbing his thumbs across his cheeks and peppering his forehead with kisses. He whispered sweet nothings into his ear until they got the chance to try again.

That time was pure fucking heaven.

6

Yuri fingered the worn fabric of his grandfather’s armchair. He wasn’t really nervous, but he never liked having important conversations. He liked to live life in the moment, just moving on and forgetting about the was-- but he at least owed Grandpa an explanation.

“So uh--” Yuri started, but fell short. His grandfather looked up from the counter in the small kitchen, where he was rolling out pastry dough. He just waited and Yuri was frustrated by the man’s unwavering patience.

“You know that Beka and I are like… together, right? I mean I thought it was pretty obvious, but I realized that I hadn’t really told you and--”

“Yuratchka,” his grandfather cut in quietly, as he replied flour to his hands. “Who else would your bracelet be tuned to?”

Yuri blinked at that, and then his lip just wavered the tiniest bits. He waited for him to say more, but he didn’t, only set back to making the pirozhki that he was currently working on.

“I won’t forgive him if he’s late for dinner though. I have expectations.”

Yuri couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face at that.

7

“Something’s different.”

Otabek looked to the woman at his side, his arms crossed over his chest comfortably. Amita looked more or less the same, felt the same, was the same. She was still this unwavering force of friendship and loyalty that still made Otabek’s heart melt. Really, he didn’t deserve her.

“Yeah, Yuri’s eased up a bit,” he agreed. Yuri was off to the side chatting with Amita’s husband, a fair-skinned and blonde man from the States. He looked like a fish out of water, dead smack in the middle of Almaty.

“Oh I wasn’t talking about him,” she said lightly, smiling at Otabek. And he knew that look-- the one where she just knew whatever it was he was hiding. “I meant you. You look happy, Beks.”

Otabek opened his mouth to reply, but couldn’t find the words. Instead, he rubbed at the back of his neck nervously and Amita spoke again. “You know, it’s okay. I know that you wanted us to both be happy together, and we would have been I think. But look at us now-- this isn’t just happiness, this is something else.”

“This is where we’re meant to be,” Otabek finally said and Amita hummed in agreement. “I’m right where I’m needed.”

She turned to him, pulling him into a tight hug, which he awkwardly returned. “I’m so proud of you,” she said, close to his ear. “I’m so, so proud.”

“There’s a lot of things we still have to work through,” he muttered, and she pulled away, a frown tugging across her face. She reached out to push back a curl from his face. She knew, she knew. Family, traditions and breaking all of that. She’d been through it though, and she’d recovered well enough.

He would too. He had to.

“That’ll take time,” she said, letting go of him. “Until then, there are more pressing matters. Do you think Yuri would prefer ‘Uncle’, or ‘Big Brother’?”

8

“How long have you loved my son, exactly?”

Yuri froze in his chair, clasping his fingers nervously together. He’d talked to Beka’s mother about many things before-- even embarrassing things-- but this was one topic they’d always slid right over.

She noticed his hesitation, offering him a small smile. Reaching out between them, she took his hand into hers, squeezing tightly. “This isn’t an interrogation,” she said quietly. “I’m only trying to understand.”

Half a year into their relationship, and things with still awkward. Otabek had warned him. Yuri knew what he was getting into, that not everyone was like his grandfather and just accepted what was fact.

Cause you know, Yuri and Otabek were obviously made for each other.

“For as long as I can remember,” Yuri finally sighed. They sat in the small garden that graced the Altin family residence, which was lit up by brilliant flowers in the high time of spring. “I know that’s a weird answer, but it’s true. Like, I can’t--” He paused, trying to find a way to explain it. “He’s always been this solid presence, you know? And after he fell into my life, I just couldn’t imagine it without him.”

Aidana seemed to think about his words, nodding quietly as she looked out at the flowers.

“That extends to you as well,” Yuri said quietly, his thumb rubbing across the back of her hand. “I’ve never really had a mom and you always just kinda… filled that spot for me, you know?”

“Oh Yuri, you know that I love you dearly,” she replied easily.

Yuri swallowed thickly at that. “I know that I’m not exactly what you imagined for your son. I’m not Muslim, I can’t give him a family, I’m not--” A woman, his brain finished, and he punctuated the thought with a sigh.

“I knew that you were trouble, the moment you tumbled through that door with him,” she said, her lips twisted in humor. But she didn’t sound angry, only mildly amused as she sifted through old memories. “We’ve only ever wanted the best for Otabek,” she continued with. “Perhaps in our effort to give him that, we overlooked what that would actually be.”

“Mrs. Altin--”

“Yuri, you better call me Mom.” The careful warning in her voice wasn’t one to be trifled with.

His mouth snapped shut. She pulled her hand from his, turning in her chair to face him squarely. “You’ll have to forgive us,” she said to him softly. “We are learning, but most of all, our son’s happiness is the most important thing to us.I am glad that happiness is you.”

“But will it ever be okay?” he asked before he could stop himself.

“Oh child, of course it will be. My husband will take longer, but he’ll come around. Until then, I’ll just smack him every time he thinks about saying something.”

Yuri smiled at that and she reached out to brush a strand of his hair behind his ear. “You bring such happiness to Otabek. I honestly would have never thought I’d see it.” And then her hand slid to his wrist, thumbing at his bracelet. “Allah has brought you into our lives for a reason. We’d be fools to turn you away.”

Yuri didn’t really know what to say, so he settled on, “Thank You.”

9

Otabek wasn’t sure what he expected it to feel like, but it definitely wasn’t this.

Yuri was so hot, filling him perfectly and Otabek was pretty sure that the moment he even thought about twitching his hips, he wasn’t going to last.

“Fucking Christ, Beka,” Yuri moaned, one hand tightly latched onto his hip, the other one holding Otabek’s leg up against his chest and over one shoulder. He moved to tug his hips back, but Otabek reached out.

“Wait,” he breathed and Yuri stopped dead in the motion. “It’s not-- I just-- I need a moment, that’s all.”

Yuri was flushed red, smoothing the hand on his hip up and over his chest. “Yeah, yeah, that’s a good idea,” he managed, and it Otabek knew that man at all, he would think that Yuri was in pain.

Honestly, he’d never thought he’d be in this position. Otabek wasn’t the authority of gay relations, but everything he’d read had made it clear that there was a top and a bottom, and that they usually didn’t switch. Yuri had laughed at that ideal, stating that it was utter nonsense.

Which led to Otabek asking if he had ever topped. And Yuri replied that he never had, which made Otabek’s heart lurch, because that was something that they could share together.

Yuri’d been nervous, when he pressed in, hesitant. And he was still nervous, sitting there, cheeks flushed and his fingers rubbing patterns on Otabek’s hip bone.

“Okay,” Otabek said finally, “You can--”

“Finally,” Yuri moaned, pulling back his hips and pressing them forward again. It was a slow and calculated movement, and it left both of them breathless. “Are you--”

“I’m perfect,” Otabek breathed.

“Good, because this is about to be over,” Yuri said quickly, shifting his hips again. “Cause you’re-- Jesus fucking christ, is this what I feel like?”

Probably, not that he had anything to compare to-- but Otabek didn’t answer his blabbering. Instead, he shifted his own hips, meeting the next thrust and Yuri’s voice pitched deep and low. And then Yuri adjusted his angle slightly, sliding back in with a little more force.

True to Yuri’s warning, he didn’t last much longer, sliding over that edge with stuttering hips and Beka’s name tumbling from his lips.

Later, once cleaned up and laying in bed, Yuri said, “I know I’m like a fucking broken record or whatever, but I love you.”

He was laying against Otabek’s chest, skin sweaty and hot. Otabek ran a hand through his hair gently before leaning down to kiss his forehead. He didn’t need to respond. There were no words that could convey what he felt, because at that moment I love you seemed like it wasn’t enough. But Yuri knew.

Yuri had always known.

10

It was strange, to have the Altin’s around for Christmas. It was even stranger to hold Christmas at their house, for obvious reasons. But the moment that Otabek had asked them about visiting Yuri’s father in Moscow for the holiday, his mother had waved it off.

“Nonsense,” she’s said. “We’ll host him here.”

Their house was currently decked out in green and red, and even sitting there as he wrapped presents, Yuri was still pretty fucking surprised.

“Dad’s more chipper than usual,” Maya said with humor. The entire group turned to look at the man-- who was currently chatting with Nikolai-- and he looked anything but.

“He’s just angry Mom made him host Christmas,” Otabek drawled, pressing his finger against a length of ribbon, so his sister could knot it off. Yuri had always loved Maya. She was the entire opposite of Beka. She was loud and opinionated, and most important of all-- always right.

At the same time, he had no idea how her husband Seung-gil had lasted so long. He had no idea what he would have done, if this spitfire of a woman had flown across the world and shown up on his doorstep. And then he glanced to Beka. It seemed that trait ran within the family.

“I’m just glad there’s alcohol,” Yuri chimed in, sipping at a glass of wine. “I know your parents don’t really drink, but I cannot do this holiday sober, I fucking swear.”

“Oh I don’t know,” Otabek replied thoughtfully. “They actually seem to be getting along.”

They all looked to the pair again, and Otabek’s father cracked a small smile at something his grandpa had said-- and Yuri was pretty sure he’d die of shock. “Yeah no, there’s definitely not enough alcohol here, if they’re going to get along,” Yuri finally said, topping off his glass. “Maya?” he asked, extending the bottle.

“Oh no can do. You know, being pregnant and all.”

Everyone within earshot froze, looking back to her. Otabek’s mouth hung and Yuri was about one thousand percent sure that he’d heard wrong, because there was no fucking way that Maya was--

“You being what?” It was Seung-gil who broke the silence, suddenly standing up, the present he was wrapping completely forgotten on the floor. His cheeks were flushed, and Maya blinked back at him in confusion.

“I… suppose that I could have forgotten to tell you that--”

“Forgotten? How do you forget something like that?”

“Well I mean, it’s not like it’s a big deal--”

“Maya, how is this not a big deal? There is a child literally inside of you--”

“We want children, Seung-gil, hence it not being a big deal--”

Yuri looked to Otabek, who still seemed relatively stunned. “Perfect for each other, am I right?”

“Yeah,” Otabek agreed.

“That’s gonna be us in like twenty years.”

“Yeah.”

11

Otabek couldn’t help the grin that widened across his face, every time he saw his sister. She fucking huge now, as Yuri had put delicately one afternoon, leaving her to throw a shoe at him, but Otabek seemed to not be able to get enough of it. And Amita too-- anytime that they facetimed through the phone.

Yuri got it, really he did. Otabek couldn’t help it. Otabek loved kids. He loved families, he loved all of that. Which is why it left Yuri thinking stupid thoughts that he knew he shouldn’t.

Because these were things that he couldn’t give him, you know? And his brain knew that Otabek would literally die, rather than trade him for someone else, but it didn’t help.

One night, they were on the couch together, watching some old movie and snacking on some super unhealthy foods-- the kind of shit that Lilia would kill him over.

“Yura, you’re staring,” Otabek finally said, looking to him with an easy smile across his face. Yuri had his legs thrown over his lap, and per usual, Otabek was rubbing at them. And he must’ve noticed Yuri’s ‘thinking frown’, because he paused in the massage and said seriously, “Yuri, what is it?”

“I just-- Do you--” Yuri paused and took a deep breath. “I know that you wanted kids and shit. Do you feel like that’s a wasted opportunity because of… well, you know.” He motioned between the two of them.

Otabek was quiet for a long moment, before he answered. “You know, I talked with my mother about this, recently,” he said. “I asked her if Maya’s kids would be enough. Do you know what she said?”

“I couldn’t imagine,” Yuri said dryly.

“First, she smacked me on the head, and then she told me that I would be stupid not to raise a kid with you.”

Yuri’s heart skipped a beat at that. He knew that Mom loved him and all, but he’d assumed that there would just be some things that she’d never be able to overlook-- and this was definitely one of them.

“I have no idea why you think we couldn’t have kids Yuri. Aside from the obvious.”

“I just assumed that… well, it’s a lot of work.”

Otabek gave him this look that read, Well Duh. “Do you want kids?”

Yuri felt his stomach in his throat, at the question. “I mean… well, I’ve never really--” But that wasn’t true, he’d thought about it a lot as of late. Otabek would be so warm with their children, so loving. And Yuri would never be able to overlook the sight. He’d be the perfect father.

Him? Not so much.

“I want children with you,” Otabek finally said, squeezing at his feet gently.

“I do too,” Yuri agreed. “I think. Not now. Not soon.”

Otabek nodded. “Shame, because Maya already offered to be a surrogate.”

Otabek narrowly missed the pillow that was thrown directly at his head.

12

“It’s okay. I’m-- I’m okay with… I’m okay with this.”

Otabek had waited a year, to hear his father say that. And he wasn’t there to hear it.

“I’m going to ask him to marry me,” Yuri blurted. The man gave him a bewildered look and he winced. Maybe that wasn’t the best follow-up to your boyfriend’s father finally saying that he’s okay with your very gay relationship that goes against everything that he knows. But it’s what he said.

“Good,” his father finally said. “It’s about time. I’m surprised that Otabek hasn’t asked first.”

Yuri was very sure that he was planning to, and he was going to beat him to the punch.

“You’re good for him,” Sabir Altin said quietly. “I’ve done a lot of thinking, over this year and you’re just… you’re good.”

Yuri wished that he was videotaping this, because he would never, ever hear it again. And then the man shifted, holding out his hand. And Yuri stared at it, really stared at it, as Sabir waited.  

Yuri took hold and gripped tightly, unable to hold back the smile that spread across his face.

One Year

It wasn’t easy riding tandem on Otabek’s motorcycle. It was an ancient thing not built for two people, restored to its prime, glossy and polished to perfection. Because that was just Otabek, perfection personified.

At least to Yuri.

They’d paused to take a break, Otabek kicking down the bike stand. Yuri pulled off his helmet and shook out his hair-- which felt odd, because he’d recently cut it. It around his chin and his head felt lighter than it had in years.

“Where exactly are we going?”

“We’re almost there,” Otabek promised, but refused to give up anymore.

Yuri wasn’t sure what almost there meant, but they were currently in the Kazakh Steppes, literally a half-day away from civilization. And yeah, it was fucking gorgeous scenery, with the rolling green hills and mountains and valleys but--

Well, Yuri was a city kind of guy, and this was way too wilderness-y for his liking.

After their short break, they suited back up, Yuri slinking behind Otabek on the narrow seat. Two hours later, they pulled off the main road, favoring a worn dirt path. Otabek finally pulled to a stop, near the top of a hill crest, overlooking the area.

“Okay, spill it. Where the fuck are we?” Yuri asked, shaking out his legs from the long ride.

“You know how you always make fun of my Life Changing Year Long Ride?”

Yuri blinked at that-- how could he forget? Only Otabek could travel throughout the entirety of Central Asia on his bike, only to come back from it a better man. Yeah, he made fun of that, but Yuri meant it with only the utmost love.

“On my way back home,” Otabek continued, “I passed through this area. And this is where I was, when I decided that everything was going to be okay. That everything with Amita was fine, that I was my own person, and that my life was going to be perfection from then on out. I’d do my own thing, live my own life and I was good.”

They’d never really talked about this, Yuri realized belatedly. They’d never really talked about that ride, or the thoughts that Otabek had or realized.

“They day that you’re bracelet turned on, changed my life. Suddenly, I was having a crisis again. Suddenly, everything wasn’t okay. And then you started going on about how you didn’t have time for it, how the tug was just annoying you. And I’m sitting there thinking that I can’t say anything, because I don’t want to be the one to ruin it all.

“When it got bad enough for me to lose focus on everything, I took a ride. I saddled up my bags and hit the road again, but this time I only made it a day, because this is where I stopped. And this was where I realized how fucking stupid I was to not go to you.”

Yuri felt the air leave his chest as Otabek reached into his pocket, and he knew, he just knew what Otabek was about to do.

“Yes,” Yuri said, before Otabek could properly ask. The other man paused, looking at him, his face crinkled in confusion.

“I’m sorry?”

“You’re going to ask me to marry you, right? The answer is yes.” He watched as Otabek’s breath hitched, and he swallowed thickly. “I mean, I kinda already told your Dad that I was going to ask, but you beat me to it I guess.”

“Yura, you--”

“But I mean, the answer is fucking obvious--”

Otabek crossed the space between them, pulling him close as wrapped his arms around him. “Yura,” he whispered, and dammit, Yuri wasn’t about to fucking cry. Otabek pulled back, his hands on his cheeks, searching up into his eyes, and he looked so happy.

He kissed him, and Yuri responded enthusiastically, throwing his arms around his neck leaning down into him. They enjoyed that moment, long and sweet, before pulling away.

“What a fucking journey, you know,” Yuri finally said, breathless. “From the beginning to get to here.”

“Yeah,” Otabek agreed with a laugh. “You’ll have to forgive an old man for being stubborn and taking too long.”

“You know, I don’t even care anymore,” Yuri said, smiling. “Because in the end, I still get the old man. How lucky is that? Pretty fucking lucky.”

But luck had nothing to do with it, it was all the work of fate. Yuri had been pretty stupid to ignore that tug in the beginning, and he was glad that Beka hadn’t. Otherwise, they’d be in very different places now, which was something he didn’t even want to think about.

“You know, it’s only smooth sailing from here on out.”

“Nothing with you is ever smooth, Yura,” Otabek replied wryly.

“No, but you love me anyway,” Yuri said with a grin.

“Always,” Otabek agreed. “Forever,” he promised.

Yuri preened at the words. Forever was good.

Forever was something that they could do.

...

Wow, Magnetic is finally done! I know I’m late posting this last chapter on Tumblr, but I DO live a regular life and I’ve been busy with work! Thank you to everyone who’s been reading along as I’ve written! This was a fun little journey and it ended just how I wanted too-- Happily!

Its been a rough month for me as a whole on a personal level, so I’m really happy that I was able to lose myself in bringing this little prompt to life. <3 <3 <3 

[mtrenchdeathofme]

Crack Guide to Gay Pairings in anime I’ve watched

Owari no Seraph: gay vampire/half-angel boyfriends who actually almost killed each other (1 pair of boyfriends)

Tokyo Ghoul: a gangbang of ghouls, I don’t know how to describe this (Kaneki Ken + anyone he cares about, Tsukiyama included)

K (Project): two Kings with 13-episode arc of foreplaying, equal amount of exes foreplaying like teens going through their first boners together, and a King and his Vassal eyefucking (3 pairs of boyfriends, ft Mikoto and Totsaki I guess)

K: Missing Kings: the same exes foreplaying like high schoolers this time, the Vassal missing his King (insert perverted comments here) and a King missing the boyfriend HE FUCKING KILLED HIMSELF (uhhh technically 2 pairs, but the Vassal has an ex this time)

Castlevania: Dracula’s son is gay, a cynical, stereotypically in a strained relationship with his father gay (1 pair, 2 if you count Dracula and his ‘generals’)

The Adventures of Sinbad: FUCKING GAY, DON’T ARGUE WITH THIS, Y’ALL KNOW THIS FUCKING GAY (Sinbad + 6 boyfriends, but it’s okay, a King needs to do foreign affairs somehow)

No. 6: they kissed, what more do you need

Haikyuu: it's popular, if the names are dropped and they have significant roles in the series, they are paired. Personal faves are KuroTsuki (rare for me to ship no-height dif pair but MikoRei is in the same boat as that) and IwaOi. KuroTsuki is actually far from my usual taste since I hate the senpai shit in anime BUT IT'S GAY, KINDA IMPLIED ONE-SIDED PINING. People already think IwaOi fight like married couple. Their first names make 'forever' (canon confirmed?)

Code Geass: I don't think I have to...? Lelouch's VA is same as Misaki's, and... he seems like the 'serve me' type'a prince.

Sarazanmai: Hinata and Tsukki's VAs are in this one. They hate each other (noted how Hinata VA's role here (Kazuki) is the cheerful one and Tsukki's (Koji) is reserved one) but still help each other. The officially canon pair features Otabek (aka some dude from Free!) and JJ (aka Fushimi) VAs but possibly due to being from Mappa? Hella gay for the latter, simply potential ship for the first. (Kazuki's childhood bestie has a crush on him)