#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!

[triptychgrip]

Story Preview: Magic/Dark Academia AU in which skating, linguistics, and time travel intersect

Professor Baranovskaya loudly cleared her throat and placed a hand on Yuuri’s trembling shoulder.

“Everyone, please take a moment to welcome your newest classmate,” she airily announced, to a rather stilted round of clapping. “If you didn’t get a chance to meet him at the Prospective Students Banquet last December– ” (to Viktor’s chagrin, even louder giggling erupted, making him want to throttle Isabella Yang) “ – or over the last few weeks, allow me to introduce first year student Katsuki Yuuri, hailing from the town of Hasetsu, Japan. I’m told by Professor Cialdini that Yuuri’s grasp of Reverberatory Theory could rival a faculty member’s, so I’m sure you’ll find him to be a valuable resource.”

Curious whispers filled the room at this last sentence. Aside from Viktor and just two other students – 4th years Sasha Samokhina and Kostya Kozhennikov – no one else had actually managed to grasp the intricacies of Reverberation, particularly when it came to its grammatical rules.

“That being said, do try not to resent his prowess too much,” Professor Baranovskaya firmly finished. 

Their eyes met and Viktor felt a bit insulted by her lingering gaze. Resent Yuuri?

Him?!?

Once again, Viktor reflected on how misunderstood he was at Pax. If he tried to befriend promising students like Sasha or his fellow dual major classmate Nao Yasutani, it was automatically regarded with skepticism, as if the Institute's top Reverberator couldn’t possibly want companionship without having ulterior motives.

It made him want to scream.

Had Professor Baranovskaya forgotten how he’d begged Drs. Piseev and Leroy to accompany them on the scouting trip to Japan, back in April? Had she conveniently forgotten that it was Viktor who had so zealously insisted on Yuuri’s recruitment to Pax in the first place, well before that wondrous video had been uploaded to the internet?

---

The above excerpt is a preview of a new 'Alternate First Meeting' Yuri!!! on Ice WIP/series I'm working on: a friends-to-lovers, magical dark academia AU that I was inspired to write after finishing the books Vita Nostra (by Maryna and Serhiy Dyachenko), and Babel (by RF Kuang). Both are so gripping and imaginative, and I couldn't stop thinking about how my favorite characters might intersect with the rich settings/magic systems in either.

Below is a tentative summary; if this sounds interesting, I hope you'll give me a follow!

---

The first known instance of Reverberation – the phenomenon in which a skater produces language and energy with their body, universally felt and understood by all in proximity – occurred in 1952, when Dick Button performed the first triple jump. Over 50 years later, Viktor Nikiforov is skating’s most prolific Reverberator and star student at the University of Chicago’s Pax Institute: the world’s premier research center dedicated to the training of Reverberators for global diplomacy.

When Katsuki Yuuri finds himself being aggressively recruited by his idol to enroll at Pax, he has no idea that the two of them will eventually become best friends. Or, that they will one day co-lead a student uprising once they uncover the true, sinister aim of their education: to master the art of stationary Reverberation that transfers language onto blank pages and creates enough energy to rip through time

[mousysunstars]

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)

[impalafullofbees]

Yuri!! On Ice AU for alien stage. This is probably the only thing I’m gonna post on either of those fandoms, but I like how they turned out!

[mikellissane]

it feels rude to not commit to the viktor ice adolescence cosplan I had said I would

i really want to do it😭 but would anyone enjoy it? /gen like be excited for it, if yes then I'll REALLY TRY, y'all might hate me for my lack of experience

[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.

[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.

-------------------------------------

“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.”

-------------------------------------

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!!

[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