#yuri on ice AU

[bullsfish]

Commission Victor and Yuuri family portrait with some AU lil ones from last spring. 🌈

[cosmiclion]

Jsyk I'm on winter break so I'm gonna be insufferable and spam y'all with silly doodles. I saw this meme and I just couldn't resist making it about my lil Viktor-and-Yurio-are-half-siblings AU.

Also yes I was too lazy to draw a bowl of katsudon myself.

[aliyahgracedrawing]

Chuuya yuri on ice au.

Imagine yuri on ice, but chuuya is yuri, dazai is victor, akutagawa is yurio, atsushi is otabek, ect, ect.

I love this idea so much so I just HAD to draw it

This is the outfit and pose I based it off

[qisheu]

I seriously love the idea of a yuri on ice superhero au with Phichit being a hero that just can't stop posting.

He'd just have finished defeating B-A class villains who had just robbed a bank and straight away post something like:

"Just caught the villains Electric Shock and Bloodied Blade!! ^_^ , so much paperwork to do X-X , sigh, the cons of being a hero o_o

(Photo of Phichit smiling with a peace sign, followed by another image of Electric Shock and Bloodied Blade being cuffed and taken away in police cars.)"

[rainbowcaleb]

to surprise you

rewatching YOI with shadowgast friends really is an experience💙

[yoibrainrot]

A Yuri on ice Hannah Montana au where Yuuri is an up and coming star stuck between his new life and his peter parker self.

He has a major crush on global superstar Viktor Nikiforov (ever since his Disney days), and Yuuri thinks he'll never be near Viktor's sphere of existence - until suddenly he is, until suddenly Viktor is aware of him and talking to him and likes his music.

Maybe Viktor asks to go on tour with him and work with him. But Viktor's s also having a crisis. Because he likes the cute shy bespectacled boy he met backstage while hiding from his fans, and he also likes the confident dazzling boy who is a monster onstage. If only they were the same person!

[mouseyippie]

Yurio only wants a new mommy!!

(After this Viktor asked Yuuri to grab coffee andd he say yes!) (Also Viktor gifted Yurio a cat to thank him to encourage to talk with his crush)

[knockyasocksoff2022]

RANPOE!!! on ICE

Chapter One: The Beginnings - Poe

In the United States of America in the state of Massachusetts, in the city of Boston, there is a boy who is good at figure skating, very good. He's been doing it all of his life, which hasn't been long yet, only seven years. 

There was one year, at the age of five, in which he barely skated at all, too saddened by the departure of his father from his life and mother from this world.

Fortunately, given his young age, he was quickly adopted by the Allan family. Unfortunately, however, they wished for him to cease skating. 

"It costs too much. It's not worth it, especially when you get hurt."

"I won't get hurt!" the young boy promised.

Understandably, his adoptive parents laughed at this.

So for a year, he worked in secret, sneaking into the skating rink with his skates which he was rapidly outgrowing, and smiling like he had nothing to hide, no matter how badly he bruised himself trying to jump like the skaters on television he so looked up to.

Why, you ask? Because skating is the one place he felt free. Free from the odd stares and ridicule of his peers, the "normal" children who are so boring but dared to ridicule him.

Yes, he was going to show them all how much better he was than all of them. Those mundane exercises in mediocrity and his father, that refuse of a man. The boy would show his father all he missed by leaving and that he was doing just fine without him, thank you very much.

Eventually, he doesn't quite remember how, but he convinced his adoptive mother to let him enter a competition. 

The rink was tiny, with an audience of ten, five competitors and two judges. The boy won.

And he kept on winning until his parents relented their scepticism, at least in front of him.

[nattyontherun]

Another draft taken from the heap of crumpled papers beside the bin of an office space in Roshchino, Leningrad Oblast:

My editor adores the boy-demon. My alpha readers, my fact-checkers - they all drown in his allure. What is it about beauty that prompts decent people to justify atrocity after atrocity? That my life was in danger is a given; that the boy had killed thousands before this interview and will live on to kill tens of thousands more after it…

Is it the tragic nature of the boys’ turning that so moves the rational thinker? That he was a fair-skinned child with a head of brush blonde hair and doll-like, seafoam green eyes?

Some call it a kind of grooming, a type of conditioning: Viktor as mentor and maker, Yuuri as lover and keeper, both acting as chain and grate to the lonesome Russian Fairy.

But Gosha, one sent him racing off a bridge and the other damned him to eternity! He was sixteen upon his death! Sixteen upon his turning!

Can we call the boy a murderer when it is the nature of a vampire to crave the blood of humans? He never asked to be made! He never asked for forever! His only fault is the love he harbors and where are those loves now? Both alive, yes - yet both of them hidden! Both of them so deep in the groves of each other, mere tourists to the destruction they wrought!

I say to you, reader, Viktor is a child's hopeless aspiration and Yuuri is a figment of that same child's gravid imagination! Sixteen, they say? The walking death is a being entrapped by the flesh-suit of his youth. He has not been sixteen in nearly three decades!

Read this and heed my warning: the demon cares little for your empathy. The demon has loved nothing more than the devils he dedicated his death to, and none of us qualify to pretend ourselves of equal value.

-

-

-

For more context, the rest of the AU can be found here: your spirit pressed up against my longing

[capsensislagamoprh]

CHA 5

Christophe knew a lot of people. He knew fashion designers trying to make it, models desperate for a gig, crew looking for anyone to sign off on production work just for the college credit, and he knew how to get them together at a moment's notice. What he couldn’t do was recreate the missing designs. Victor had been absolutely distraught to realize that some of his pieces were positively wrecked by the move, while other less spectacular pieces made it through just fine. In the end, he was left with a set of angora sweaters, slimline slack jeans - or sheans, as he liked to call them - that combined the elegance of high end office wear with the durability of street fabrics, and a single pair of sheer socks he’d made from scraps of a disastrous attempt to make panty hose more fun and less annoying.

It was a frantic week of pulling fabrics, bolt by bolt, from boxes, tubes, and any piece of clothing that had been destroyed, trying to make something new, exciting, something that would not only delight the senses, but bring some whimsy into an otherwise very monotone world. Why everyone thought beige was the be-all, end-all of the last two seasons, he wasn’t sure, but come hell or high water, he’d see this change. “Don’t get me wrong,” he babbled to the man behind the counter, “it’s a fine color. It has its place. But so much? All the time. Non. It’s - how you say?” Victor waved a hand in front of his face, letting his jaw go slack, eyes blank. “Steklyannyy pritsel?”

“Terne?” came a voice rich as clotted cream. “Means dull, boring.”

Victor turned, eyes bright. “Yes! This is the word!” It was the man in the jeans. The delicate blond boy was standing with his hands behind his back by a selection of buttons, looking exceptionally bored. He must have noticed Victor’s flicker of recognition. His eyes were beautiful. Long lashed, blue, wide and earnest. Not just any blue. Cobalt. They caught the light in just such a way… “Hello,” Victor said with his friendliest smile.

“Hello. Sorry, I didn't mean to step in. You just seemed to be a little lost with the language.”

“Oh, yes. It mixes with the others sometimes. Ty govorish' po-russki?”

The man winced. “Not that well, if I’m being honest. Knew someone who spoke it pretty well. Taught me a few phrases, some things here and there.”

“But that’s marvelous! Learning something new is never out of style,” Victor purred. The boy by the buttons huffed, turning his head away. “Your … son?”

“Ah. Yes. He’s supposed to be choosing the buttons to fix his shirt with,” Mr. Cobalt Eyes said with a slight frown. The boy turned slowly towards the display again, grabbing four sets of ladybug shaped novelty buttons, handing them to … Victor really needed to find out who this handsome man was.

“Victor, by the way. Nikiforov.” He made a move to lean on the pile of fabrics being measured and weighed, casual interest in his gaze.

“Trent. Trent Dale.” He put a firm hand on the boy’s shoulder. “This is Yuri.” The boy stared at Victor, eyes as viridian as the sea. Vivid colors ran in the family, it seemed.

“Nice to meet you, Yuri.” The boy said nothing, clutching the buttons tightly. “He must have his mother’s hair,” Victor added, trying to prolong the conversation. Trent was tall, and handsome in a corporate way. Victor could almost see him dressed in suits, polished shoes gleaming as he stepped from his bedroom, freshly showered, smelling like the promise of sex and money. Yuri frowned, shuffling uncomfortably. Victor realized he had missed something Trent was saying.

“ - it’s okay, though. We get by. Don’t we Yuri?” He shook the boy’s shoulder, jostling a mumbled nonsense out of him.

“Oh, well, I suppose that’s all we can do,” Victor covered smoothly. “Try to get by. So, what happened to the buttons?”

“Oh, that. Small accident. Popped one. It got lost in the shuffle, I suppose. Rather than walk around with one missing, we decided to replace them all. Although, I don’t know about ladybugs. Little out of place, don’t you think?” Trent addressed the last half to Victor, half to Yuri. The boy stiffened, looking at the buttons as if trying to figure out if he wanted to fight about it or not. Victor took pity.

“I think it adds a bit of whimsy to the design. As long as the colors don't clash horribly, it just makes it fun.” Crouching to be more at the boy’s eye level, he shone a smile that bent his lips in at the bow. “What color is the shirt?”

Yuri glanced at Trent who nodded. “It’s black,” Yuri answers in a bite that seemed to cut off the rest of his sentence.

“Is it a dress shirt?” Yuri nodded. “A black dress shirt. Full sleeves? Bit of a wider collar?” The blond’s eyes widened. He shook his head. Another glance at Trent, then he turned back to Victor, swaying towards him just that little bit. “It’s got a mandarin collar, and it’s trimmed in red, Like the cuffs, and it’s long.”

“Is the black very shiny?”

Yuri wrinkled his nose. “No.”

Victor couldn’t tell if that little pout was because he wanted it to be shiny, or if the boy was offended by the very idea. His eyes burned as he looked at the fabrics, then lowered his head to look at the buttons he was clutching. “Well, in that case, ladybug buttons would be perfect. A little pop of color to accentuate what’s already there, and a little childhood wonder. Snakes and snails, yes? Why not some insects too? Particularly when they…” Victor’s mind went blank, searching for the word. “Slivat'sya? Sootvetstvovat'?” he muttered.

“Da. Oni podoydut i ne slishkom bol'shiye…” The words trailed off as Yuri stepped back, biting his lower lip. Victor beamed. “You speak po-russki very well,” he chimed, throwing a glance to Trent as the boy clammed up. “Well…” Standing, Victor looked over his shoulder at the clerk neatly packaging his trims and notions. “If you ever need button advice again…”

“Be hard to ask if I don’t have any way to contact you,” Trent smiled. Those teeth were so white, Victor could have gone blind.

“Oh! Yes.” Snatching one of the store's business cards, he pulled a fabric flower from the display vase, revealing it to be a pen in clever disguise. Jotting down a number with a small winky face holding fingers up in a peace sign, Victor handed it over. “I’ll be busy for a week or two, but I'm free after that.”

Trent looked at the card curiously. “Interesting.” Then those blue, blue eyes glanced at the many bags. “Making something big?”

“Massive,” Victor purred. Then he chuckled. “I’m making my spring collection. Again.”

“You’re a fashion designer?”

“I will be. I’m at PCA.”

Trent gave an impressed little nod, considering Victor. “A hard school to get into.”

“I did my best. I am going to take on the world, one fashion disaster at a time.” He spared Yuri a conspiratorial wink.

“I look forward to seeing it.” Trent’s easy smile almost had Victor walking out of the shop without his copious amount of goods.

____

CHA 6

Victor spent the next three days bent over the kitchen table, back aching, hands smudged, eyes strained as he littered the floor with rejected designs and sketches. He had his originals, but they were old, and while there was something he could draw from them, there was no joy in the way they lingered on old problems, previous mistakes. Instead he pulled the idea of it from the place it originally came. The jumpsuit - that recalled a particular night at a club that ran well into the next morning, having to face down an unforgiving instructor and her brutal, soul crushing constructive criticisms - needed a refit. A modern twist that fit more than the desperate need to not look like he’d been wearing the drink stained clothes from the night before under it. It was giving him problems. Jumpsuits were pretty much fashionable or made you look like a dock worker. It was hair pulling maddening.

“Min vän,” Christophe cooed, sliding a cup of warm tea under Victor’s nose. “This is not good for you. You need to rest. Let your mind recover, gain inspiration.”

“I’ve tried, Chris! I tried,” Victor cried, using the cup to warm his hands. “I just…” His lips drew tight as he threw his feet on the seat of his chair, folding in on himself. Leaning against the wall, Victor closed his eyes. “It’s not working.”

“Okay.” Christophe drew a chair over, sitting close. “Tell me what you were thinking when you created it?”

“I didn’t want to throw up on my presentation, and I wanted to pass.”

Christophe scoffed. “Sure. We all want that. What was really going on?”

Victor searched his mind for a witty segway only to come up flat. Sighing, he set the cup down. “I just wanted to hide. I’d done something stupid,” Christophe’s mock shocked expression withstanding, it felt good to be able to speak about that very strange twenty four hours. “I’d been stressing about finals.”

“As you do.”

“As I do. I needed to get out, clear my head. I let myself get talked into going to the club.”

Christophe shrugged. “Nothing wrong with a little fun.”

“At nine p.m. On a Tuesday. During finals week. The night before my organic harvesting and natural fiber production's economic impact on the future of fashion presentation.”

Christophe winced. “You spent months agonizing over that! The late night calls, the desperate pleas for help researching.”

“It wasn’t that bad,” Victor muttered.

“The way you sobbed into your sketches when you couldn’t find drafter blue pencils.”

“The color disappears once ink is overlaid! They’re worth their weight in rubles!”

“Your sudden desire to become an oil rigger to avoid the whole section on soil erosion, and sustainability.”

“It’s a touchy topic.”

“Your inability to admit you were addicted to lattés for a whole month.”

“I didn’t know four a day would make me gain six pounds, okay?!”

“Sure it wasn’t the stress eating?”

Victor shoved him with his foot. “As I was saying!” Christophe smiled into his cup, eyes sparkling. Victor huffed before leaning back against the wall with a little wiggle. “There was this guy, and he was just… so fine. Strong, and firm, and - “ Victor sucked in his bottom lip, biting down on it as he made a little grunting sound.

“Sure sounds like it,” Christophe grinned.

“I thought so… until I woke up to the sound of him talking to someone while I was in his bed.” Christophe winced. “Same old song and dance, da? One night stand, already committed, and torn between tearing through, setting everything aflame, and slinking away, tail between legs.”

“I take it you went with option two?”

“I went with option two.” His head hit the wall when he threw it back. Rubbing the spot, he crossed his legs, sitting up more in the chair. “My clothes were covered in spilled drink and… other things.” Christophe nodded sympathetically. “I needed something to cover it up. I found a jumpsuit in this awful tan color just hanging on the line outside, and took it. I spent the whole rush to campus trying to find things to style it, and just went with using it as part of the presentation. Added a whole bit about how sustainability was good, but it couldn’t be allowed to cover individuality, and sort of…” He made a motion indicating he’d unzipped it from neck to crotch.

“How did that work out for you?”

“I got a pass, so not too bad.”

“I’ll bet you did,” Christophe winked. “Well, as thrilling as that story is, what are you going to do about this?” He motioned to the design. “It’s not too complicated. Pants are a bit much. Maybe shorts?”

Victor sat up. “Shorts. Christophe! You’re a genius!”

“Naturally. Why?”

“Shorts! If I turn the pants into shorts with a roll cuff, side strap buckles to hold them up, they become adjustable, allowing for more range of use. Increase the drop of the collar, add a little extra here so it flaped to the side in open neck mandarin, a-la-militare, add whimsy with the buttons and piping at the edges… a wide belt with a buckle that has shine, little sparkle with the accessories… Look at this!”

Christophe peaked over Victor’s arm to see the sketch produced. “Loose top kitten heeled boots, scrunched socks with pops of color… you know min vän, you may make a fashion designer yet.”

cha 1&2, cha 3&4

[hauntedbythefanficsofmypast]

Friends Born on the Ice

Chapter One

Marinette was beyond nervous, not because of the double date she had thrown herself into. No, she liked Luka and knew that he would have her back, and while Kagami was a little standoff-ish she reminded her of an old friend that was just overly shy. Although he just didn't know how to come out of his shell, it seemed to her that Kagami was placed in a shell by her mother. 

No Marinette was nervous because she hadn't stepped into this in a year. Not since her break down at thirteen over the Junior GPF, she hadn't even talked to her old coach or acknowledged that she was one of France’s best junior ice skaters. Honestly nervous didn't even begin to describe her right now, but this was for Adrien, one of her best friends. She could get on that ice again. Besides, Philippe wouldn't be there right? He currently doesn't have any skaters; she was his only one in France, a pang settles in her chest as she remembers that he relocated from America to come train her. She tried to use the excuse that this was his home country and city but it didn't help too much.

Philippe was always picky on who he coached and he had sent two of his previous skaters to new coaches just to take her under his wing. Marinette wished she could change things but after her embarrassment at her first GPF she didn't think she could handle it again.

"It was really cool of you to bring Luka Marinette.” Adrien said as he moved over to sit by her. Marinette tensed before putting a nervous smile on as Adrien distracted her.

“Of course that's what friends are for!” She said before leaning down to tie her skates, so far only Luka had noticed that they were different from the rest. Marinette may have stopped skating professionally but that didn’t mean she would lower herself to use anything but her own custom fit skates.

“I don't know what to do about Kagami, should I offer her my hand?”

“You have to let her fall.”

“Huh?” “No!” Marinette quickly busied herself with her laces not paying attention to the fact she was tying them together. “What I actually meant was that you can not let her fall in anyway. Do whatever you can so she doesn’t fall, so ya, grab a hold of her hand and take her on to the ice.” She said as she stood up trying to exit the conversation that hurt her just a little. “And then-” She yelped as her laces came to tension and she started falling backwards, her only thought being that she already fell and she wasn’t even on the ice yet. Arms quickly caught her with a little ‘omp’ before she was lifted back to her feet..

“Try to be natural, go with the flow and listen to the rhythm. Just..” He paused looking at her debating what he was going to say knowing he should be following her lead but in the end knew that his words would still calm her. “Just follow my lead…” He kneeled down untying her laces before looking up under his fringe. “Come on Ma-Ma-Marinette,” He teased gently, earning a soft smile from the girl. “You know how to tie these better than me any day.” Marinette’s eyes widened before she nodded and leaned down focusing on tying them just the way she had always liked. He stood up offering his hand with a smile, if Marinette was going to try and ignore her skating history he would help her. She blinked looking at the offered hand before taking it and being helped up, both ignoring Adrien watching them as Luka pulled Marinette onto the ice. Both skating away to have their own conversation.

“You know.” She started softly as they did a lap together. “How did you know?” Luka let out a soft chuckle as he watched her from the corner of his eye. 

“I won’t lie, I googled you.”

“You googled me?” Luka gave her a nervous smile with a slight blush.

“Please don’t take offense, but my sister always talked about you and all these accomplishments you had. Before I met you of course, and I just wanted to make sure she wasn’t being lied to ya know?” Luka said gently squeezing her hand really hoping this wouldn’t cause problems between the two. “And then I met you and realized that she was leaving so much out because you are even more amazing then what she described.” Marinette blushed brightly looking up at the raptors' lights. “So yes Melody, I know that before last year you were a promising junior skater, who dropped out of the skating world.” Marinette looked down at the mention remembering the year previous where she had gotten so nervous and instead of helping her a fellow skater fed into it and made Marinette’s anxiety worse. Leading to her falling into last place at her first GPF.

“I,” She stuttered on the first word, shaking her head. “I failed my first ever GPF, I was so embarrassed, all season I had been the talk of the skating world and then I just bombed everything. I couldn’t face my peers, my coach, my friends, I could barely face my parents. I left skating behind, but somehow I didn’t really.” Luka decided now was the best time to try and distract her, before she got lost in memories.

“Ya know I know my way around the ice, not as much as you but definitely enough to impress some people.” He said skating behind her and taking both her hands spinning the two up them before breaking into four consecutive spins. He skated back around her grinning as his smile formed and took her left hand in his own before releasing it and moving his arms out lifting his right leg. Marinette let out a small laugh at his goofy grin before she saw Kagami and Adrien out of the corner of her eye. Luka was quick to take both her hands pulling her forward as he skated backwards. “You okay?”

“I will be.” She said with a small smile, before panic set in as she quickly spun him around hiding her face in his back.

“Hey young man! You ever thought of ice-skating lessons?” Philippe said skating around the two of them but keeping his focus on Luka. “Judges wouldn’t be able to resist that smile of yours!” A pang set in Marinette’s heart over hearing her old coach's voice. Luka spun following him since Marinette didn’t want to be noticed.

“That’s nice of you, but my life is already filled with music.” He said, giving Philippe a polite smile. “And I might have a brand new song to write, so..”

“Music’s an important part of skating, you know? Think about it!” Marinette stopped hiding when Kagami began doing a few tricks on the ice catching Philippe’s attention.

“That was your coach?” Luka asked softly as Marinette began skating backwards, both watching Kagami and Philippe.

“Yes, still as energetic as ever. It's weird though he is super picky about his skaters, to be asking random people that don’t already have coaches isn’t like him.” Marinette said, worried, biting her bottom lip.

“Can we try something?” Luka asks, trying to distract her.

“Hm? Sure Luka whatever you wa-ANT!” Her voice raised as he lifted her and for a second her heart beat faster over the fact he could lift her, then slight anger set in at the fact that he lifted her with little experience and no one watching them for safety. “Luka, down.” She said softly and he put her down promptly before spinning her and lacing their fingers together.

“Sorry?” He said a little sheepishly knowing he had done something wrong.

“Thank you for distracting me, but lifts with no training and no coach watching are very dangerous. Promise me you won't do that again.” Marinette said worried he could hurt himself or another friend.

“I promise Marinette, I won't do it unless I get properly trained.” Luka had a soft smile on as he realized she was just worried for both their safety’s. Marinette quickly pulled him in front of her as Philippe re-appeared. 

"I'll give you a week of lessons for free! Just a few hours a day and you'll both be stars!" Marinette winced as she heard desperation in his voice, pain blooming in her chest. She needed to find out what was going on after this double date, Phillipe was never desperate.

"Thanks but we're already very busy as it is." Lukas said politely, pulling Marinette away. 

"I need to find out what's wrong. Philippe has never been desperate for skaters before! Oh my god I ruined his career didn't I?!"

"Marinette."

"I did! He moved to Paris for me only for me to quit after one embarrassing ending season! And because of my mess up no one wants to train under him! Oh! I should've never talked with him, I ruined his career!!" Marinette spiraled, not paying attention and tripping, causing herself to fall.

"Marinette!" Luka called out surprised.

"Are you okay?" Both Luka and Adrien asked, extending a hand to help her up. Marinette blinked, surprised, hesitating as she remembered all the days of picking herself up off the ice to go again.

"See how a few lessons can come in handy?" Philippe said skating between them and Marinette realized with a pang he didn't recognize her. "Please Adrien Agreste just put your name on this form and your fans will come running, and my ice rink will be saved!" Marinette jolted eyes widening as she let out a shaky breath, the rink closing? Philippe was losing his rink because he didn't have skaters.

"None of these young people want to sign up. You can't force them, can you?" Mayor Bourgeois said smirking and Marinette felt anger burn under her skin. The Mayor was behind this, the mayor was trying to take her rink. Her rink? This hadn't been her rink since...since the day she stopped getting up off the ice.

"You're right." Philippe said sadly skating away and Marinette watched him, guilt settling in blaming herself for leaving. Not realizing that Phillipe could have left whenever he wanted but still remained at their home rink. Kagami skated forward pulling Marinette up with a glare. 

"Get up!" She pulled Marinette close, whispering harshly in the girl's ear. "The only reason you can't stay on your feet is your hesitation. I never hesitate." She leaned away grabbing Adrien’s hand. "Shall we go?" Pulling him away from the other two. Marinette looked down, thoughts running a thousand miles in her head and guilt still heavy in her heart.

"Marinette, are you okay?"

"I think I hurt myself. It's probably best we call it a day." She lied, not looking Luka in the eye before skating away.

Marinette sat down on the toilet seat holding back tears as she thought of Philippe. He looked so devastated at the mayor's words.

"Why are you so sad?" Tikki asked, watching her Chosen carefully. Marinette sighed as she twisted her fingers together as a distraction.

"It's my fault Coach Philippe is here. Before I expressed my interest in him being my coach he lived in America with two skaters he coached. He left them and America behind to train me. Last year...I failed really bad. I went from the top to the bottom so fast. I embarrassed myself, my country, and Philippe. The icing on the cake, I also like Luka but I'm so worried he is gonna be like Adrien and just be a friend."

"Marinette? Are you okay?" Adrien questions from behind the door causing Marinette to tense up.

"Ya I'm fine!" She called out, biting her lip nervously. She sat in silence before she heard Adrien yelling for her to hide. "Is that ice?" She stood on the toilet seat before pulling a box out of her bag. "Let's try our Master Fu's Magicaroon! Tikki Power up!" Tikki ate the Magicaroon before transforming herself.

"Stalac Tikki!"

Stalactites Tikki, spots on! Ha!" She transformed into her new ice themed costume. "Not bad." She whispered slightly looking down at her current skates.

Ladybug and Chat landed on the same building together surveying the area.

"Chat Noir, we need to set up a trap for whoever turned the city into a giant ice rink." She said before throwing her yo-yo.

"My feline instincts prefer to track and observe before I attack." He said crossing his arms and Ladybug tried not to deflate once she realized today was one of those days. He slid down the roof not looking at her. "You go your way. I'll go mine."

"Please don't tell me you're mad at me about the rose?" She asked, doing her best to hide the exasperation.

"There may be a certain chill between us now." He said, finally looking at her. Ladybug stopped herself from sighing as she attempted to placate her partner.

"I get it but we should really focus on saving Paris."

"We don't always have to do everything together. After all, it's not like we're a couple."

"Chat Noir don't get all pouty on me!"

Ladybug huffed in annoyance before going her own way. She had to find the Akuma and fast, because it was her fault Philippe was in this position.

At the end of the day Luka and her stood slightly hidden watching as Adrien took a picture with him to post it. "Marinette." Luka placed a hand on her back as he smiled down at her. "Can I tell you something?"

"Of course Luka." She said blushing when he grabbed both her hands holding them gently.

"I watched every video of you on the ice when I found them. Every one, even the ones of you and your Japanese friend just messing around during a joint practice. I've seen you happy before, but very rarely have I seen you reach the level of happiness you expressed on the ice. If my opinion on this is in any way important, I want you to know it. I think you should go back." Marinette was silent as she stared at Luka's eyes. Her thoughts running a thousand miles a minute before a sincere smile took place, she leaned up kissing his cheek without thinking. 

"Thank you Luka." She turned away looking at Philippe with determination not noticing the blush on Luka's face. Marinette walked up to Philippe trying to hide her nervousness.

"I heard you were looking for skaters to coach." She said meeting his surprised eyes, she played either her fingers nervously until she felt Luka's hand on her shoulder. "I don't suppose you have room to forgive the skater that almost ruined your career and take her back in?" She asked nervously meeting his eyes, nerves only growing more when he didn't respond. Philippe remained silent until he pulled Marinette into a tight hug.

"Oh Mon Chéri, I have been waiting for you to come back. I will always have room for you under my training." He glanced at Luka before looking back down at his skater. "You were hiding from me? You fell and I didn't even notice! Oh Mari! I'm so sorry I was so stressed about our rink closing I ignored a fallen skater!" Philippe said as he began panicking. Luka let out a snort, which broke into more laughter as skater and coach turned to him in sync.

"I'm sorry." He said not looking a bit sorry at all. "It's just, you and Marinette panic in the exact same way. It's endearing to see how you have influenced each other." Philippe stood up, laughing loudly and the comparison, still holding Marinette close.

"Thank you, I am Philippe Moreau, I have been Marinette's coach for a few years now. It's a pleasure to meet someone she is close to." He held his hand out shaking Luka's hand. "Marinette, I will come over tonight to talk with your parents. Why don't you catch up with your friends." Marinette gasped as she turned, seeing both Adrien and Kagami’s cars gone.

"I missed him…" She said sadly, causing Luka to frown. She turned to him, her smile sad. "I hope his date with Kagami went well." Luka returned the smile as he wrapped an arm around her shoulder.

"Let's take the subway together." Luka waved goodbye to Philippe with her before the two were off for the subway. "Well, I gotta start working more shifts and saving up." He stated as they stepped into the subway tunnels. Marinette looked at him confused, causing him to chuckle as he made eye contact with her. "How else am I gonna be able to afford flying out to see your competitions."

"Luka…" She said surprised before letting out a happy laugh, shaking her head. "You don't have to do that." He shook his head in response, not hiding his big grin.

"Too late. I have already decided. Watching your videos was inspiring, now I have a chance to see you in person. I can't pass that up, I'll have so many new songs written by the end of your season." He said, causing a blush to cross Marinette’s cheeks as she looked away.

"Just don't break the bank trying to come see me, okay?" She reached up grabbing the hand resting on her shoulder. "Promise me that if you need help you'll come to me? I don't advertise it but my family is old money, and my commissions have taken off since I started designing for Jagged. Please let me help you." Marinette looked up at him, only to be surprised at the soft look in his eyes.

"How about this, we split? We'll fly out together for every show and save money on tickets. With your parents' permission we can share a room with two beds and keep them updated every night...what do you say Ma-Ma-Marinette?" Marinette smiled brightly, nodding at him.

"I guess you have to come over for dinner now. We have to tell my parents and Philippe our plan."

"I'll follow your lead Melody." They were silent until Luka realized something. He turned looking down at her, while Marinette stared straight ahead. "You're from old money?"

"We don't talk about it."

"Okay."

Chapter Two

Masterlist

[cosmiclion]

Some ppl have shown interest in my lil self indulgent YOI AU (tl;dr if u haven't seen my previous posts: the only difference is that Viktor and Yurio are half siblings -on their mother's side, so that each keeps their respective last name- and the parents aren't around anymore by the time Yurio is 6 so he spends half his off time with Viktor and the other half with Nikolai), so I made more art of it bc it brings me joy 👉👈 And then I felt like writing a lil something to go with the piece bc why not, I very rarely write but when I do it's so much fun. Text under the cut.

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“I did great, right, Vitya?” the little blonde boy asked excitedly as the silver haired teenager crouched down before him to pull up the zipper of his parka. A brown standard poodle pranced happily around them.

The older boy smiled fondly. “You were amazing, Yurochka.” He squeezed his cheeks and chuckled at the noise of indignation that came in response. “I’m sorry, mama and papa couldn’t come to see you skate today either. But grandpa took a lot of photos and videos to show them.” He adjusted the hat on the kid’s head before standing up. “Now come on, let’s not keep him waiting.”

Little Yuri’s eyes lit up at the sight of Nikolai near the exit and he dashed towards the man, Makkachin trotting after him and Viktor following close behind. The kid talked their ears off during the short walk to the car and during the whole ride, through mouthfuls of the pirozhki his grandfather had brought, proudly boasting about every new thing he could do on the ice now. Seated next to him on the backseat to keep an eye on his greedy dog, Viktor just listened and nodded along, trying and failing not to let his mind drift off.

At only 17, figure skating genius Viktor Nikiforov was under an enormous amount of pressure that had nothing to do with any competition. Even for someone who spent as much time away as he did, it was hard to miss that things had been going not so great at home. He had left in pursuit of his dreams long before Yuri was born, only to come back sporadically and spend short periods with his family before going away again, but he had to be blind not to notice just how starved for attention his younger brother was and just how absent his mother and her new husband were.

For a long time now, Nikolai had been putting in the work of being there emotionally for Yuri since his parents barely had time for him and his brother said hi to him only through video calls more often than not, so the least the latter could do to make up for it was to spend as much time with him as possible during the off season. At least Yuri didn’t seem to resent him, if anything he seemed to admire him more and more, and the teenager had gotten used to having the kid following him around like a duckling when they were together. At only 17, figure skating genius Viktor Nikiforov felt like a surrogate parent.

Suddenly, a finger poked the whorl on Viktor’s hair. “You’re distracted!” Yuri protested.

Viktor hadn’t even noticed that Yuri had taken his seatbelt off and stood up on the seat. “Sorry, sorry. Now please sit back down, that’s dangerous.”

Yuri obeyed but narrowed his eyes as Viktor re-adjusted the seatbelt. “You get distracted a lot. And you often forget things. Are you getting old?”

Viktor gave him a half offended, half amused look. Nikolai snorted a laugh from the driver’s seat. “If Viktor is old where does that leave me? Ha! But do listen to your brother, having to keep my eyes on the road is enough responsibility.”

“Sorry~!” Yuri sang almost innocently. He dug into the paper bag he was holding and took out another bun before resuming his incessant chatter. He talked so fast that Viktor wondered whether he actually needed to breathe. “If you’re getting old does that mean you’ll retire soon? Can you coach me? Will I be just as good as you? Will I be better than you? Will I win a gold medal? Don’t answer, I bet I’ll win a gold medal soon! Just wait and see, I’ll win my own gold medal one day!”

Yuri’s enthusiasm was almost contagious. Viktor ruffled his hair, earning himself another noise of indignation. “Of course you will.”

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Some notes:

-I mentioned before that I couldn't find any official data on whether Nikolai is Yurio's maternal or paternal grandfather, but for this AU I'll assume the latter, so he and Viktor aren't related. -I almost deleted the whorl poking part, it's such a special thing between only Yuuri and Viktor that I felt like I was defiling something sacred lol. But then I thought that it'd be cute if Viktor's hair just had that effect on people. -At first I worried I had made Yurio too ooc but... he's 5 yrs old here, tbh most kids are the same at that age, just give him some time to develop his characteristic personality. Also I think it'd be both hilarious and tragic if he was a sweet adorable bby who loved his big bro before turning into an edgy teenager who hates everything ☠️

[aliyahgracedrawing]

More of my bungou gay dogs Yuri on ice au. Here we have akutagawa as yurio.

Based off this outfit:

And this pose

[qisheu]

I simply love it when writers make Viktor have long hair in fantasy au's!!

[mollymarymarie]

Bird Set Free

Chapter One - Clipped Wings

Just as Remus started to rise to his toes to see if he could tell what was going on, Sirius Black stepped through the hoard, with his ever-present, gold-medal-podium smile. Stunned, Remus could do nothing but stare back at him, swallowing nervously as Sirius met his gaze. When Sirius’ silver eyes narrowed slightly in Remus’ direction, it almost seemed like he was searching for something, waiting for something.

Finally, with that curious expression still in place, in his softened voice that carried his definable Russian accent, he smiled, despite the heavy side-eye he was giving to the crowd that was becoming more unruly with Sirius’ continued disregard, and said, “Ignore them. Ready for that photo?”

Read Chapter One on Ao3 

[lines-on-ice]

The Chocolat Guy final chapter!

Me? Posting fanfic two weeks in a row?

Rest assured, I have not been replaced by an alien or a sort of magical being. It was just in a works for a long time and I finally had the time to put the final touches on it!

What a ride it has been, I am so very happy with it, the ending, and sharing all of it with you! I hope you will enjoy the final part of that very very sweet journey :