#yurii!! on ice

[fidjiefidjie]

🍓🍦 Une glace ? 🍨

Source: Yurii Yeltsov

[txna-blxckthorn]

im at the ice rink rn and i saw this realy pretty girl with light blond hair that she did like a twist on. she has a willowy build and was wearing ALL black except for white skates WHICH MEANS SHES A FIGURE SKATER

so i was just getting the hang of skating right i didnt fall down at all, but then the girl entered the ring and i think “oh shit oh okay maybe i can impress her or smth so she thinks im cool” so i start skating really quickly BUT THEN I FALL. DOWN. ON. MY. ASS

wtf is wrong with me

[intcritus]

[LIFT]: sender gently cups the receiver's face and lifts their chin so the receiver is looking up at them. //Yuriy @ Elliot

he's frustrated, feathers bristling with rising ire. it's no ones fault but the fact that this fucking wholeseller sold him cheap fucking paint. they didn't mix the way it was supposed to and now the colors were all muddy and ugly. elliot is muttering angrily that he can't even hear the soft call of his name. how was he supposed to work in this condition ? how could he create anything when the colors were so dull? a paintbrush snaps in his grip, and he knows he should calm down, that he can simply go to the craft store and get what he needs, but its the fucking principle !

soft hands cup his features, tilting his head upward and he blinks behind the frame of his glasses, realizing he's staring into yuriy's worried face. ah. shoulders lose their tension, slumping as he releases a slow breath. ❝ ━ sorry, i lost my temper for a bit there. ❞ he's still a little irritated but the avian knows it'll leave on it's own. ❝ ━ we agreed to have breakfast, or well, a late brunch together, right ? sorry about nearly forgetting, can you forgive me ? ❞

features soften and he puts his hands over the tiger's, leaning up to press a quick kiss to his cheek, ❝ ━ not wanting to let go of me, yet ? ❞ elliot teases softly, eyes crinkling at the corners, ❝ ━ no worries, if you want me all to yourself, i wouldn't mind that either. ❞

when the phoenix is rightfully smitten. | @nvrcmplt

[mon3trous]

my husband and me both watched beyblade dubbed as kids but i went online and learned the og names and he didn’t. the result is that whenever beyblade would get brought up, we would mock argue about the names.

one time we put a yuri on ice poster up and he decided to make a Statement

the poster has looked like this for years and we never bothered to take the postit not off bc you know what, you can have your little tala on ice as a treat

[istan-idraw]

One of the rare times in G-rev when you see Yuriy's normal pupils

Also they both look kinda identical like they were made using the same base or is it just me? 👀<👀

[zadien]

Chapter Update! This now puts SLTS over 800,000 words. I was going to say I have no words for this, but ah, I have too many. Happy 20th fanfic anniversary to me!!

Story Summary: Beyblade/Ice Hockey AU. The Sharks have always won the league, each and every year, but this year will be different. Kai Hiwatari, the ex-captain of the Sharks, now captains the Tigers, the talented yet dysfunctional contenders for the trophy with all of their emotional bagged, prank pulling and bitter resentment of change.

Chapter Summary: While Kai is at camp bonding with Grey Team, dealing with Garland's company and being a thorn in Miles's side, the rest of the team is doing some personal growth in Ireland.

Snippet

Ozuma made a face. "Did you even ask him why he wants to extend the trip or did you overreact and lash out—"

It was like flicking a switch. Amber's fury cracked, splintered, and then withdrew behind a closed door. "You're right. That's what I did. Thanks."

She spun on her heel and headed back down the path.

Ian hissed and rounded on him. "She's not overreacting. She's a fucking pot."

Even Johnny winced. "That was harsh, man. Give her a break. She's been through it this week and you know her father ain't innocent by any means."

Shit, if Ian was calling him out, he'd crossed a line.

[nvrcmplt]

Qiang Kassim Kanidae Beastman, Alicani Tribe War Pack Captain of the 81st Battalion.

[meowstix]

fuck it. beyblade fandragons (most of these are bsb but i threw in One mfb one and a couple burst ones)

[adailytea]

The Ice Spirit

The team nodded, a collective shiver running through them, but before they could react further, Boris’s and Sergei’s gazes drifted past Yuriy, their eyes widening in surprise.  "Hey, Yuriy..." Boris's voice was a hushed whisper, his usual bravado gone. He lifted a hand, pointing past the redhead’s shoulder. “There is one wolf alright…” Expecting an immediate threat, Yuriy quickly turned around, and his heart skipped a beat as he followed the slate-haired’s gaze. 

Standing there, just beyond the van and atop a tall snowdrift, was Wolborg. Her human form was radiant, otherworldly, like a beacon in the frozen wilderness, white gown and long light blue hair flowing gracefully with the howling, freezing winds. Her eyes, the same piercing and glowing spheres that Yuriy knew so well, aimed at the boys with serenity. For a moment, time stood still. Yuriy’s breath caught in his throat as he stared at her, the world around them fading into insignificance. This was his bit-beast, standing peacefully before him of her own volition for the first time since she was dragged away from him.  “Wolborg,” the name escaped his lips, his widened eyes captured by hers. “What are you doing here?” She raised a hand and delicate feminine fingers pointed towards the dense forest ahead.  It took some time for him and his team to understand that message. Once it happened, a surge of emotions washed Yuriy’s soul.  “She wants to guide us, let's go!” He urged and a second later they were already hopping back on the van and preparing to move.  The engine roared to life. As they set off, Wolborg vanished and reappeared a moment later, ahead of them, standing on a snow-covered boulder with her arm extended, pointing them towards a narrow, winding path through the trees. “There she is!” Boris pointed at her and the van turned accordingly, following her direction. Minutes later she materialized again, perched on a ridge to their right, her arm outstretched, indicating a sharp turn they needed to make. This pattern continued as they navigated the treacherous terrain under her guidance, her presence both reassuring and haunting.  The journey felt endless, the forest closing in around them. Finally, the dense trees began to thin, and the van emerged into a clearing. Sergei’s foot sank in the break; before them, the land dropped away abruptly into a vast expanse of white—an immense cliff overlooking the snow-covered wilderness below. The scene was breathtaking in its stark beauty, the horizon stretching out infinitely under the ending afternoon. Wolborg was right there, at the very edge of the cliff, facing the frozen expanse ahead. The van came to a halt and the boys disembarked. The bit-beast was gazing intently at something far below, something unseen yet deeply significant; the boys approached her and followed her gaze downward. Below, at the base of the cliff, a small human camp was nestled at the entrance of a cave. The two snow-covered tents and scattered equipment were unmistakable signs of life. A makeshift fire pit sent wisps of smoke into the frosty air. Suddenly, a figure in the camp looked up and spotted the boys atop the cliff. Without hesitation, the person began jumping and gesturing frantically, waving their arms and yelling for help. 

Boris’s eyes widened excitedly as he recognized the scene below. “Hey! That’s them!” he exclaimed, kneeling down to safely lean over the edge. “We found them!” Sergei joined him. “We need to get down there. They don’t look like they’re in good shape.” Yuriy cast one last glance at Wolborg supposedly at his side, intending to thank her, but the ice maiden had already long vanished into the cold mist. There was no time to linger.  “Let’s go, we gotta find a way around this cliff,” Yuriy commanded, his spirit and resolve renewed, and the boys sprinted back to the van.

Excerpt of Trial by Ice, Chapter 8*

[hellovivirose]

Contest(?) prize chibi for @paperclippedmime !!! They correctly guessed the Bladebreakers’ ice cream flavours in my Mayblade post and requested Yuriy with vanilla plombir~

[plaguethewaters]

in the same vein of me watching things and then immidiately reconnetting them to dsmp, it was time for my annual YOI rewatch and well.

Yurii on ice au with beeduo as victuuri, obviously.

Specifically ranboo as yuuri (with techno being Celestino, fundy being phichit, niki as the one suoer successful ballet dancer that teaches him i think) and tubbo as viktor (tommy is yurio, Wilbur is Yakov, Quackity is Lilia and Jack Manifold is JJ because i think it would be very funny).

Canon follows yoi canon because it does fit reather well with a few adjustments (like tubbo being a Whole Lot less actively sexual than victor is, even if he does not astain from horrible sex jokes all the time) But, for added spiceness, they do not kiss in sochi.

Tubbo is a lot less needy than Victor is after all and a lot more of a little shit that loves annoying others, and Ranboo is a lot more attentive to keeping his secrets secret than yuuri is, so while they Do propose and get married in barcelona they just. don't tell anyone at all. They continue skating in their weird coach-student - competitor kind of situation, tommy is going completely insane because they are so Disgusting and Annoying but he cant talk to anyone about it bc if he ruins the reveal tubbo Will Kill him.

fundy catches on kind of immidiately and keeps trowing way unsubtle hints that just confuse everyone even more. Techno is still kind of offended that his protege left him for some random guy that showed up out of the blue for no reason. Wilbur is losing all of his hair and it is Not gonna get better when tommy asks him to contact big Q for dance lessons. And tubbo is having so much fucking fun.

The ruse is over when ranboo manages to win gold over tubbo three times, the last one breaking Both of tubbo's old world records (for both the sp and the fs). Tubbo accompanies him at the kiss and cry,a s his coach obv, sees the score on the screen, and actively Kiss and Cries before proposing again on the spot. Tommy spends half of his interview lamenting that their stealing his silver medalling spotlight and that they should be stopped.

[intcritus]

Comfort with the Phoenix had grown lengthy times during their interactions, though hesitant in physical affections and words of prose, he held himself back because of what he was and how he wasn't… and yet, he couldn't deny his attraction to Elliot. They were something special with words of wisdom, so this morning - he didn't let the man leave his bed. Instead, thick paws held them close to his chest, his muzzle buried in their hair inhaling the shampoo and sleep musk of two scents on their pillow. A thick purr on his exhales and shift of thighs under them to allow Elliot to be adjusted to straddle him. Comfort as hand rests over rump and the other over their back, delicate under wings as he nudges the things aside so he could massage his much more petit interest.

"May I make love to you, Elliot?" Not a quick romp of explosive hormones in the bathroom, nor a hesitant kiss in the dark or under an umbrella but true want in needing to show them that Yuriy's finally feeling settled with them.

  Unlike most beings, Elliot revels in the idea of being wanted by someone, the romance of it. But being wanted was nice, but being needed was something else entirely. Unless it’s his sibling, the phoenix finds himself being wanted in the physical sense and it’s nice, but it’s not something that’s permanent. And that is what Elliot needs. He wants to be a permanent fixture in someone’s life for the long haul, for someone to handle him like glass, like someone they can wake up to. Does he avoid it ? Absolutely because other than a fun romp, no one bothers to get past his flirtatious and audacious nature, not until Yuriy. The tiger talks to him, he listens so attentively, he doesn’t mind when Elliot gets lost in his craft and he doesn’t mind helping him organize when his space gets messy.

There’s something so intimate about that, and Elliot finds himself wanting to stop and just stare at Yuriy sometimes, in awe. It feels so silly, but he finds himself a bit softer, a bit more open like he’s allowing the tiger to see the real him. And slowly but surely, as they spend more time together, learning the intricacies of one another, he finds himself wanting to know about the tiger, the way the other leans on him for comfort when things get too much. It’s easy, because seeing Yuriy worried or sad and anything in between is something he’s so attuned to. Mouth curls into a fond smile as he straddles Yuriy’s lap, his touch warms the phoenix’s skin, and for a moment, humor curls in his tummy. The tiger was always so hesitant with touch, and how pretty his fur cheeks blush, and Elliot is patient. Does he feel desire for Yuriy?

Yes, he’s immensely attracted to him, but he’s more interested in the tiger and not just his body. When that transition happened, Elliot isn’t sure, but it’s a welcome one. He genuinely likes Yuriy and wasn’t that a revelation when he spoke to his sibling about it last week.And now here they are, those big paws on him, holding him so securely as he asks to make love to him. Glasses fog up almost quickly as he blinks. Another thing to enjoy about Yuriy, him always asking for things, it’s sweet and endearing and fuck it makes the phoenix’s fire race through his veins. Hands settle on the tiger’s chest, a serene smile coming to curl the phoenix’s lips, knowing he’d probably never get used to how sweet Yuriy is.

❝ ━ Yes,❞ he finally breathes out, soft, surprised laughter escaping his lips. This is what he wants, what he needs, to know that Yuriy needs him just as much as Elliot has come to need him too. Fucking, passion, all of that was nice. But he’d never had someone ask him to make love. What was making love? Gods, his heart had taken on a swift beat just at the thought, tongue swiping over his lips as cheeks pinkened.❝ ━ Kiss me first ? Then, please…please make love to me.❞ He feels like he waited his whole life for this moment. They can take all the time in the world.

a happy birb. / @nvrcmplt

[whumpdoyoumean]

Whumptober #19

xxx i’ll take one final step, all you have to do is make me

Napoleon is awakened by a bucket of cold water being poured over his head. He coughs and sputters and it takes him a moment to get his bearings. Getting beaten into the ground will do that to a man. He’s sitting on a cold cement floor against a post with his arms handcuffed behind him. Every part of him aches--head, ribs, shoulders--but his knee is the worst by far, a sharp and unrelenting throbbing. Illya is standing over him, and the man that had shot at him in the alley, Rostya Makarov. There are three other men as well that Napoleon recognizes from his research: Viktor Nikolaev, Yuriy Alekhin, and the Swede, Edvin Magnusson. 

“He’s conscious,” Alekhin remarks thoughtfully. “I thought perhaps he would not wake up.” He turns to Napoleon and smiles. “Who knows you are here, American?”

Napoleon smiles back. “Trakhni tebya,” he says in his very best Russian.

Alekhin raises an eyebrow and looks over at Illya. Illya nods once, then drives a fist into Napoleon’s already damaged ribs, driving the wind from his lungs. Napoleon presses his lips firmly together, using all of his effort to keep from crying out. Illya crouches in front of him. 

“You believe in living dangerously,” he says. “I can see that.”

Napoleon’s heart leaps in his chest. It’s a quote from Dr. No. A signal. And suddenly it all becomes very clear. 

What are you doing here? 

Dammit, Cowboy, stay down. 

Illya hadn’t just been trying to drive him away. He’d been trying to warn him. 

“Sitting around with wet hair, I’ll catch pneumonia,” Napoleon says. It’s James Bond’s next line, and Napoleon’s way of saying, I hear you. I understand. 

Illya’s face doesn’t move, but Napoleon could swear he sees a bit of the tension in the man’s shoulders ease, just barely. 

“Pneumonia will be the least of your worries, American,” Alekhin says. “You know, Kuryakin here spent many years with the KGB. You can make this much easier for yourself. Just tell me who knows you are here.”

Napoleon clenches his jaw, fixing Alekhin with a frosty stare. The man just shrugs. 

“Very well. Kuryakin?”

Illya stands, regards Napoleon for a moment. Then he says, “Do not let him sleep. We will ask again in few days.”

Napoleon suspects Illya is trying to protect him, saving him from beatings and other physical punishment at least for the time being. But between the army, CIA, and UNCLE, Napoleon has had hours of training in how to resist interrogation and torture. He’s heard horror stories about those subjected to severe sleep deprivation, men slowly losing their minds. 

He’s always thought he would prefer the beatings. 

xxx 

Two days pass without Napoleon seeing Illya again. The others take turns staying with Napoleon, one or two of them at a time. Napoleon silently observes each of them, storing away any bit of information that might be useful. It’s a welcome distraction from the pain. His shoulders burn from being kept in the same position for so long and his ribs ache fiercely with every breath he takes. His knee is in bad shape, too. He can feel the swelling. 

He doesn’t even notice the first time he falls asleep, about twenty hours in, is only aware of it when he’s awakened by a slap. He does his best to stay awake after that, as much out of spite as anything else, but it proves more difficult than he expected, and as time passes he finds himself nodding off more and more frequently. It’s only ever for a few seconds--there’s always a slap or a shout or a bucket of ice water to wake him again. 

The fatigue grows like a physical thing, an unrelenting heaviness in his body and mind. His thoughts begin to feel foggy and sluggish. He barely even notices at first when Illya appears. 

“Cowboy? Are you okay?” The Russian’s voice is taut with worry as he kneels down in front of Napoleon. 

“Illya. What the fuck is going on?” Napoleon isn’t sure he’s even said it aloud until Illya responds.

“You need to sleep.”

Napoleon frowns. “No. No, you need t’ tell me why you left.”

“I promise, I will explain everything. But we do not have much time. A few hours at best. You need to sleep.”

Napoleon tries to fight it, but the pull of sleep is too strong and everything goes black.

xxx 

It isn’t enough. Illya knows it’s not enough. He does whatever he can to get time with Napoleon alone so that the American can get in an hour or two of sleep, but even that is dangerous. If Illya is exposed, it’s over for both of them. He has to keep his cover intact until he can get Napoleon out of here.

He’d known it was a bad idea to keep Napoleon and Gaby in the dark. He’d told Waverly as much, but Waverly had insisted that in order for him to fully infiltrate the criminal outfit, his ties to UNCLE needed to appear to be fully severed. Illya should have argued, but he didn’t. 

And now Napoleon is paying the price. 

It’s been four days. The cuts and bruises on the American’s face stand out heavily against paper-white skin and there are dark circles under dulled, bloodshot eyes. There’s a vacancy in his expression, and he’s long since stopped making any sort of smart remark. This morning, Rostya had laughed while telling them about Napoleon speaking to someone that wasn’t there.

It had taken all of Illya’s strength not to kill all of them right then and there. 

The day had crawled on horribly slowly after that. Illya’s been lying awake in the dark these past few hours, waiting to be with Napoleon again, mulling over the pros and cons of various escape plans. 

“Illya.”

He turns over on his cot, pretending like he’s just woken up. He looks up at Rostya. “What time is it?”

“Two. It’s your shift.” 

Illya makes his way to the room where Napoleon is being held, dread building in his stomach. He can’t put his finger on it, but something had seemed strange in Rostya’s voice. The anxiety only grows as he reaches the door, and then he opens it and his heart plummets. 

Yuriy is crouched next to Napoleon, a knife in his hand. He looks up as Illya enters. 

“Yuriy,” Illya says slowly, struggling to keep his voice steady. “What is this?”

“Your tactic isn’t working,” Yuriy says. “I am tired of it.” He grabs a handful of Napoleon’s hair, yanking his head up and pressing the blade against Napoleon’s throat. “I say we kill him and get it over with.”

“Don’t!” Illya cries, launching himself forward. 

Yuriy moves fast, standing and turning, the knife held down by his side. By the time Illya sees his mistake, it’s too late for him to do anything about it. 

The knife goes into his side near his left hip. 

“I’m not as stupid as you think I am,” Yuriy says. 

Illya breathes heavily as the rage begins to build, so hot that he barely feels the pain of the knife being removed. 

“How long have you known?” he grinds out through gritted teeth. 

Yuriy smiles. “Since the minute you brought him here.”

Guilt mixes with the rage, now, as realization hits. All of Napoleon’s suffering has been for nothing. His breathing quickens as his hands begin to tremble. 

“I’m going to kill you.”

xxx to be continued…

[teabiscs]

continuing a tag game! "9 people you would like to get to know better"

Thank you @moonandblossoms for the tag!!

1. 3 ships; right now my top three are:

Kai/Rei Gojo/Geto (because I love to be heartbroken) Yuriy/Boris

2. first ever ship; ooof. we going back a long time here. maybe ash/misty from pokemon?

3. last song; stutter by marianas trench (if you like sad music theyre ya band)

4. last movie; sasaki and miyano graduation

5. currently reading; not really reading a book per say. im in the midst of several manga series. but have a ton of danmei i've been collecting because I AM NOT binging a series that is not complete yet (looking at you TGCF) I reallu want to start reading The Husky and His White Cat Shizun, but i know it's gonna be like 10-12 volumes and idk if i can wait that long. i could read an unoffical translation. but *shrug emoji*

6. currently watching; jujutsu kaisen/murder documentaries on youtube

7. currently consuming; iced coffee

8. currently craving; more time in the day. feel like time has been passing by so quickly and its making me so anxious.

9 people to tag; @dr-craw, @evallina @niziye @bethylee @let-it-ripperoni @gingericywolf @talasworld @luxahheart @syfien

if ya'll want to! don't feel like you have to!

[nvrcmplt]

Scenting Daichi before seeing him had the tribesman's ears twisting with intent to pick up his footsteps. They had made plans to meet after Daichi's work, Yuriy having another adventure to the mountain paths there were open for hiking took him away in the earliest of hours and sated his need for that burn of a long walk. These peaceful lands were something obscene to his kind, Dungeon Travelled as he was, it was nice to go out into the wilderness and not expect to be tackled by a flying boar or rattlesnake with fangs larger than himself. Instead, he ventured with ease through the bush and took in the sights of a world evergreen and tranquil until his heart was filled.

Now back in the cities and settled upon a restaurant chair, he turns with grace - to greet his love. A chuff that would make eyes turn, but his attention fixated upon Daichi's frame. Arms open and paws to settle upon the other's man's shoulder and face, enough to nuzzle his cheek upon his temple and hair before beaming his fanged grin. "You look amazing, Daichi." He was pleased completely that they wore a matching set of garments for tonight. Tickled him nicely.

"I ordered that drink you like..." He moved to step back, taking hold of his loves chair to await him to settle in so he can tuck him in. Joining him at the table soon afterward with a content curve of his tail. "How was your meeting, love?"