princessbaby



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    “What do you think he meant by friendly stabbing?” Viktor asks, deceptively casual as he winds a lock of his hair around his finger.

    “Sparring, probably.”

    “Ah,” Viktor sighs, his disappointment loud and theatrical. “And here I thought he meant the other kind.”

    Yuuri feels himself heat to the roots of his hair.

    “Not here,” he snaps, hands clenching at his sides.

    Viktor’s eyes sharpen, the veneer of pleasantness finally leaving his face.

    “My mistake,” he says, his smile thin and icy. “You seem tired, Prince Yuuri. Let me escort you to your bedchambers.”

     

    ~
    In which Viktor and Yuuri are the princes of warring kingdoms but manage to fall in love anyway.

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    12 Nov 2019

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    “Yuuri,” he breathes out, his voice breaking on the last syllable, so filled with emotion. He says Yuuri’s name like a prayer, like he knows him. And Yuuri- Yuuri who has been observing Victor for so long, has no idea what to do with this.

    “Yuuri,” he says again in that terribly fragile voice.

    “I’m sorry,” Yuuri starts just as Victor is raising his hand as if he’s about to take Yuuri’s face between his palms, as if he’s about to pull Yuuri closer. “But have we met before?”

    (Or: Yuuri is a minor deity whose offerings come in the form of paper stars and cranes inside little jars and the only thing Victor chooses to devote himself to.)

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    27 Oct 2019

  3. Public Bookmark 73

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    The raw honesty in Victor’s voice has Yuuri pushing up to kiss him. Victor lets out a little broken moan that has just a hint too much sadness in it for Yuuri. And god Yuuri would unleash hell for this man. His feelings for Victor are too big for his body. They feel like something archaic, mythological in scale, written into his fate since the dawn of time. Like how the sun will inevitably burn out, so was Yuuri always supposed to meet Victor. To crash into him like stars colliding. Burning together. All consuming.

    [Yakuza royalty Katsuki Yuuri falls for his family's worst enemy; Pakhan of the Russian bratva, Victor Nikiforov. Their love would have to carve a new place in the crime underworld if they want to be together. And they're willing to burn it all to make it happen.]

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    19 Oct 2019

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    Victor learns Japanese while in Hasetsu. He doesn't tell Yuuri, and things get dicey when he overhears Yuuri and Mari talking about him in Japanese. Repeatedly.

    (The subtitle of this fic should be: Victor Nikiforov really needs a hug. Luckily, he gets one. Eventually.)

    ~~~

    “No,” Victor says, skating up to Yuuri on the ice, “you have to push all the way from here, or you’ll never get the height you need for that axel.” He sets his hand on Yuuri’s ass, tracing the muscle group he’s referring to. “Not here.” He taps Yuuri’s thigh. He doesn’t know the words for the muscles in English, only knows how to show him.

    Yes, technically he’s grabbing Yuuri’s ass, but how else is he to communicate?

    Language:
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    19 Oct 2019