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annabellemahnzahari · 2 years ago

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“The Keys… yeah… I knew it was a weird name.”

Leaning forward with her palms holding her head and elbows on the table, Ann couldn’t help but laugh at that jest. Her backseat of the carriage still had a small scorch mark that refused to come off. Returning her accomplice’s smile, Ann reached into her empty glass and playfully threw a few ice cubes at Liht which dissolved well before contact, lightly splashing at the woman. Laughing at her little prank, the not-so-humble bard sent a wink across the table, letting Liht know it was all in good, cooling fun.

“You would do wonders in Ilsabard! That’s such a perfect place for someone of your… err, nature. But, umm, well Gridania isn’t quite on the way to a place like that continent. Correct me if I’m wrong, but would my stop be heading…” Ann stared up at the ceiling, closing her eyes in concentration. “…. Ahhh, north… east? I guess it’s a little closer… You sure about this?”

Before Liht could respond, Ann dramatically waved her hands as if dismissing her question. “Not that I wouldn’t love having you! I really would! I’m just trying to be considerate to someone who’s been nothing but helpful to me!” Unknown to the idol, her trained voice was getting louder with each sentence as a couple of nearby patrons glanced over irritably at the loudmouthed Miqo.

@the-littlest-kojin An open invitation for Lihtbryda to reconnect with Ann’abelle!

Ul’dah. The place where a certain popular performer was found abandoned as a baby Miqo, forced to scratch and claw her way to survive. A Though Ann was no stranger to visiting her birthplace, she always had a sense of bittersweet nostalgia as she walked through the familiar streets. As Ann walked down her personal memory lane, she couldn’t help but remember those days of poverty and starvation with a sigh. It was time to leave. Her performance was over and her breezy lodging in the Lavender Beds was calling her even from here.

Unfortunately for the desperate bard, today was quite a different challenge as a new form of stress had brought itself out in the form of a notorious stalker that had been following the addlebrained girl for a disturbingly long walk. Thankfully, her renown works both ways. Having been fortunate to run into an old thaumaturgy friend, Ann had managed to borrow an old ash grey apprentice robe that kept her body mostly covered sans the facial region. She could feel that familiar creeping presence closing in and made sure to pull the hood of her disguise completely over her head. This outfit was something she’d never be caught dead in these days, but still proved useful. Of course, she could possibly fend him off herself but the downside of being a renowned idol meant the smallest little incident could send her reputation spiraling. Too many people were around and it’d be impossible to get out of this without a black mark on her record. Her only choice was losing the obsessive fan.

As she made a desperate speed walk through the Quicksand, quickly pressing through various adventures crowding around the bulletin of requests, Ann felt a flash of heat that nearly sent her stumbling. “What in the Twel… how is it so hot inside?!?” she muttered as she turned to see that annoying Hyur fan walk inside and look around with a smug grin. As Ann casually walked to the opposite door to leave, her body sweated nervously and she started to pant. Opening the door, Ann gasped at a familiar face which answered all her questions. Standing on the other side, having just walked up to the door, was a friendly, fiery Roe mercenary who seemed to appear out of the blue as if answering Ann’s prayers. Staring directly up at Lihtbryda at an angle where her face would be visible, Ann nearly hugged the lady out of excitement but was fortunately still sane enough to stop the obvious miscalculation.

“Lihtbryda! …Suh… Sang…Sun? …uhh, nevermind!” Ann’s face lit up as she quickly flung herself behind the woman, pointing out the male who had just noticed her. Despite practically burning up so close to the fire aspected woman, Ann’abelle now felt the familiar protective warmth as she had felt the last time she had been blessed to make her former bodyguard’s acquaintance.

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dahcyst · 8 years ago

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A Flower for the Bee [Chapter 1]

[AO3 link here : http://archiveofourown.org/works/9238850/chapters/20952428 ]

I’ve started this right by the end of the first season, craving for Otayuri soooo much -and I’m still! But right when I started this, well...Voltron season 2 was released...Sorry, I’m stuck in the middle of the 7th chapter for now, so I’m uploading the stuff here and someday I’ll get some motivation back to write the next chapters ! XD

"I fucking don't care!"

"Yuri, please, don't be such a kid..."

"I'm going home, don't even dare bother me till tomorrow."

The young boy's next movement was simple : his feet kicked hard in the large door of the skating rink, and Yuri only had the time to hear Victor's sigh before the awful bang that resonated in the hall. It's been several months since Victor had returned to Russia, since he was back on the ice, since the day he, Yuri, had got this first place, this gold medal, at the last Grand Prix.

He was going to turn sixteen the day after, and somehow it was already getting on his nerves. Victor probably never got that problem himself, his performances always going along with his body frame. Victor probably didn't have to really deal with what he was and what he was getting to be.

And Yuri was in that state, teenage suddenly hitting hard on him in a way he knew that would be, somehow. But there was a difference between knowing things and experiencing them, living them. He could feel his own heartbeat, strong, heavy in his ribcage as he was walking down the corridor to the changing room. Even after so much time out of Russia, stuck in Japan with that other Yuuri, Victor was still the same: tactless, rude, unable to understand others feelings toward themselves.

It was ice skating only to Victor. Thanks god, the guy had found another weirdo thinking the same way as him, even though he was living in another country. It appeared that Victor wasn't back by himself in the end: Yuuri had asked him to leave so they could both work on ice and impress each other through their performance. Well, it was certainly a way to show their...affection? Yuri winced at the idea. He never really got what was the real bond between those two and somehow he wasn't sure if he wanted to exactly know. It was way easier to think "I'm too young to get it".

The door of the changing room banged closed behing him as all his thoughts wre making their way in his mind. Young. That was the main problem here, and Yuri sighed deeply. Sixteen years old. At school, most of the students were prety excited when their birthday was coming. Especially sixteen, seventeen and so on. It meant becoming an adult, with adult's privilege. With adult responsabilities. With an adult mind.

It actually wasn't the worst part, Yuri had to admit. He'd always been smarter and more mature than the average of his age, from far. Maybe it was also the reason of his loneliness. He knew how of a jerk he was to people his age.

But he quite didn't care that much. Being alone was also a part of that life full of training everyday, full of ice skating everyday, full of everything but human beings. He had never really looked for others to come in his life and instead focused on his carreer as a skater. It worked pretty well, and as long as he could use his body the way he needed, everything would be fine.

Yuri pulled on the hem of his sweatshirt in silnce. Overthinking was one of his bad habit but he couldn't help and once again he was at it, his main problem he had to face until now.

His body.

He knew that it had to happen one day. He was growing up pretty fast these months compare with what he hoped. His body was changing little by little. His knees, his elbows, his back were being pretty painful most of the time and his flexibility tended to fade day after day. He hated that. He hated watching himself being that weak and unable to do anything against his biological clock. He wasn't even mentionning all that disgusting sexual thing that sometimes had to wake him up in the middle of the night, leaving him panting in his bed, tangled with his sheets.

It hurt so much to be stuck in that body, in that state.

When he left the changing room, his bag hanging on his shoudler, there was no one left. The dim liht from a door far in the corridor was the only prove that soeone was still in, probably Victor or Yakov. He'd spent too much time under that shower, switching from hot to cold water until his skin was burning on both positions and his mind was unable to think properly anymore. It would do, for a moment, at least until he coud get home, right on time for dinner.

It was snowing, and he sighed again. The wind was so cold, biting his face, and he tried to hide his chin, his cheeks and nose in his thick scarf to only let his eyes burn due to the coldness of the outside. In the pocket of his coat, he tip of his fingers were playing a little with the shape of his cellphone. The plastic frame was being pretty cold too, he didn't have to take his gloves off to know it.

It was already dark outside. Day after day, the steam coming out of his breathing felt thicker and thicker and he couldn't help thinking back about how winter in Japan last year had been pretty sweet compare with Russia's. His nose was red all the time, his cheeks burning under the bite of the cold.

"I'm home," he softly said while pushing the door of the house.

He knew that nobody would answer him, and he sighed. Again. Somehow, he was feeling like his life had lately been full of sighs and silences. His grandfather was for a few time with an old friend of his, helping after the decease of the old wife of the even elder other man. At first, his grandfather had refused to go, not wanting to let the boy alone, but Yuri could picture the need of the man to go and see his old friend, to keep company, to comfort, to talk and everything that the situation involved. So he almost forced him to leave the place for as long as necessary -and after all, as he reminded him, he'd been in Japan without even saying a word to anyone, only to find Victor and he was barely fifteen when he did.

He turned the light on, letting his bag fall on the floor beside the old couch of the main room. The weak bulb stuck at the ceiling was moving a little due to a few wind entering the lounge while he was getting in, and the dark shadows of the fournitures were slowly dancing on the walls.

Pretty quickly, he took the first remote he found and pressed on the biggest button to turn whatever it was on. Whever it was the TV or the HiFi station, he didn't care. He just needed a noise, something, anything to fill the air and comfort him right now. It came up with the soft clap of a CD getting switched on, and the first song made him sudenly shiver, small goosebump covering his thin skin. It was playing the Symphony No. 9, 2nd Movement "Advent". Something so powerful that it made its way under his skin every time he was listening to this track, making his senses upside down. Every time, he couldn't help but let the pictures of that program he'd seen on that day.

Yuri sighed, again, and let his tired body fall on the old couch, cushions creaking under his weight.

It was Otabek's free program. Closing his eyes, Yuri tried to remember as best as he could the moces of the young man. Determination and power had been like overwhelming his body while dancing on the ice and somehow. Every time he was rewatching Otabek's performance on the DVD Yakov gave him with the full recording of the Grand Prix Final from last year.

When he was focusing on the man himself and not only his powerful body, Yuri felt a bit lost. He couldn't really get what was in Otabek's mind at that moment, when he was skating. Scowling so much, effort painted on his face and at the same time it was like everything was easy and running like water in the bed of the river, like each motion was the obviousness.

The second track started and it made him start a little. It was late, time flying so fast.

His room was stuck in darkness too, but the dim light of the street lamps allowed ran through the curtains and it was barely enough for him to find the way to his bed.

On the sheets, his hand slapped against the cold plastic frame of his laptop, closed in the middle on the bed since the morning when he left. Mumbling a little, the teenager took his phone out of his backpocket and almost jumped on the mattress, springs yelling under the sudden weight. Someday it was going to break, he swore.

Phone in hand, he pushed on the main button to light up the digital screen and pressed the easy code to give access. Since he left the ice rink, Yuri hadn't given a eye to his phone, but the amount of notifications wasn't something to really fear. The top bar of the screen was full of small icons featuring Twitter, FaceBook and Tumblr for the main part. The screen showed '148 notifications' and Yuri sighed, already sweeping them one after another. Fangirls were abusing of social medias when to him it was mostly a way to keep contact with people far way from him. Little by little, he'd lost track of them and only reguarly gave a small look at their online business when there was.

Amongst all the names he didn't even remember following, one suddenly got attractedtion and he stopped sweeping his screen with no care then pushed hard on the notification displayed with his thumb. It was a simple retweet of a picture taken during the Grand Prix and Yuri couldn't help but smile at it, even if it was a little embarrassing. Otabek was in the middle of the photograph with his thumb up, looking far from the rink he should have been more interested in as he was about to perform.

Yuri moved his thumb and index so he could enlarge the picture on his phone. Otabek wasn't at it at all and for a few seconds Yuri wondered what the young man was looking for. He was smiling softly, even on the blurr photograph he could tell from the soft dimples at the corner of his mouth. Then he remembered. Him. Otabek was looking at him, sending back his cheers from the bleachers. Yuri felt a bit curious at that memory, a soft and warm feeling filling his body as well and he couldn't help but smile too. With a strong pressure on the screen, he saved the picture in his phone. Humming softly, Yuri read the caption above the picture and bit a little his low lip. 'Thank you my friend'. Otabek didn't tag Yuri's account, didn't write his name, but Yuri knew who this was for and the warmth in his chest grew a little. But he only pressed the small heart beside, letting Otabek know that he had, at least, seen the tweet.

There was no other interesting post. Fangirls were writing comments everywhere they could and he didn't read all of them with a lot of attention. He knew it wasn't correct of him, but he wasn't one to act as if he was interested in omething when he truly wasn't.

Holding back a yawn, he simply wrote 'back from practise..............fuck' with a gloomy instant selfie in the dark of the room, only enlighted but the phone screen. Gloomy was quite the word, he told himself when he saw his own post in his Twitter timeline in a large size on his laptop screen a few minutes later.

He had nothing to do –maybe homeworks but he wasn't really in the mood. His knees still ache after the day and he was feeling like for once Victor was right about not using some moves and jumps before he's done growing up. Yuri knew that he shouldn't have yelled at Victor for such advices, but at the same time it was just the most frustrating thing ever, and he felt like...

A 'beep' made him start as he was already getting lost in his own thoughts and he went back to his screen and the Twitter notification page that indicated that blue '1'. Another 'beep' right away and he clicked on the '2' newly appeared.

Ota-bee @otabekaltin liked one of your tweets.

Ota-bee @otabekaltin : "like a princess, man"

Yuri gggled a liltle before suddenly stopping. It was a bit odd to laugh alone in the darkness of his room. There was still the sound of the music from the lounge but still, he was alone. He just smiled then, and clicked on the 'answer' link.

Yura @russiantiger : "listen to the BEE talking"

He didn't have to wait for long.

Ota-bee @otabekaltin : "Don't underestimate bees' power, you flower"

Yuri coughed at the sentence, unsure of how to take it. To be honest, he never knew how to analyze Otabek's words. Most of the time, he was making fun of him, or just clicking on the 'like' button under the few publications he'd made. But there, it was hard not to see a sexual content and Yuri spent a long moment starring at the screen, the words of Otabek especially, before letting go without replying. Not that he would reproach it to the guy, but he didn't know how to answer properly without sounding like some weirdo. Otabek was his first friend and he was already a huge mess when it came to simply write, let alone talk. The next hour was only made of a soft exchange of 'like' between the two of them on stupid retweets they were publishing. Every time Yuri was reading Otabek's name on his notification page, he was feeling like his smile would never left his face. It wasn't just because that nickname was the most ridiculous he'd ever read, and he knew it. He was big enough to understand those things, though it wasn't easy to completly figure out what he was feeling at the moment. The soft feeling wasn't gone by now, and for a moment he was scrolling down Otabek's page, watching his public timeline. Most of the time, it was his everyday life. His parent's puppy, a cat in the street (he didn't taf Yuri on this one, but there was 'I thought of you' above it and Yuri totally assumed have something to see with him, he hoped), his school, the ice rink...

That girl with that amazing smile and those dark eyes, that dark long hair. He had missed that picture, didn't know her face but for sure Otabek had taken this one. Yuri could recognize Otabek's street from all the pictures he'd seen until now, the front of his house, that tree a little farther, those red curtains behind the windows.

A 'beep' louder than the usual ones came and Yuri lifted his eyes up, raising an eyebrow at the private message twinkling. He opened with a slow motion of his mouse and stopped two seconds before eargerly clicking on the awfully stupid nickname.

Ota-bee : "Eeek sorry, wrote something weird before"

Yuri blinked, before getting back to their so small exchange. He tightened his lips into a thin line, trying not to smile too much. Otabek was always like that, saying silly things and then coming in private later to talk a little, whatever was his subject.

Yura : "It's ok"

Ota-bee : "Hard day?"

Yura : "kind of, Vic is boring"

Ota-bee : "Vic? But he's not your coach, is he?"

Yura : "He doesn't need to be my coach to be too much of a fucker"

Ota-bee : "Wow how rude ahah"

Yuri smiled, again, then gave a look at the clock in the corner f the screen. Twitter beeped again, getting his attention.

Ota-bee : "Hey flower!"

Yura : "wtf"

Ota-bee : "It's midnight! Happy birthday man"

Yuri let a second pass. Then another and another, until a full minute was gone and he barely noticed how breathless he was, teeth digging into his lower lip. Oh fuck. He was growing up, again, and it had to be Otabek the first one to remind him how time was awful. And at the same time, he couldn't help his smile to stretch from one ear to another, simply happy with the thought of his friend coming only to wish him a 'happy birthday'. He wanted to imagine Otabek smiling behing his screen while typing those few words but once again, he wasn't completly sure of what he wanted. He stared at his own fingers, softly shaking, and simply wrote "thanks".

He didn't need Otabek to care that much about it. He just wanted him to talk, to tell him about his day if he wanted to, to comment on the last photo he'd seen, the last performance he'd had, all the small things, even the most stupid.

Ota-bee : "go to bed dumbass, you looked exhausted on your pic"

Yuri frowned a little.

Yura : "hey what time is it for you?"

Ota-bee : "around 3"

Yura : "what, pm?"

Ota-bee : "na, AM, I'm not that far"

Yura : "YOU GO TO BED"

Ota-bee : "Cruel flower Yura!"

Yura : "fucking annoying bee"

Ota-bee : "gotta go man, night"

Yura : "night"

Otabek was quickly offline and Yuri didn't wait a second more before shutting the laptop off. This time, he didn't sigh, his mind too far away to properly react to everything. He pushed the laptop aside, before taking off his clothes and slide into his thick pajamas. He was cold, even after rolling his body in the sheets, despite the heater in the bedroom. It probably was because hewas so tired after that day, full of practise, full of fails, full of painful falls, and Yuri wasn't used to deal with failure. His flexibility wasn't terrible these months and it was slowly killing him. Yakov had to yell after him. He yelled, and it was actually the first time since he started skating, that someone had to do so. Ice skating was all he had –and for that reason, he never reproached Victor his behaviour and exclusivity toward their discipline, no matter how much he disliked it.

Yuri tightened the sheets tight around his shoulders, his face plunging as deep as possible in his pillow. Being alone had never been a problem untill now. He had ice skating and it was all that mattered. Because there was Victor around him everyday, but since the man had left for Japan and for Yuuri, things had slightly tended to change. At first, Yuri hadn't really got what was that feeling, Victor had always been like a father to him, always been here when he needed him to be.

But.

He never confessed anything to Victor, never treated him as he could have as a friend. Victor wasn't someone he would see as a friend actually. It was so much different. He was that paternal figure he hadn't with him. His grandfather woudln't replace the lost son, both them knew it and Yuri respected and loved the old man strong enough not to think about the loss and the dull aching in his chest. Every time he was failing to it, he made himself as busy as possible, burying in work, ice skating again and again, focusing on being the best, no matter if it made an asshole of him most of the time.

But.

He did feel lonely. And because of that, the hint of culpability was hitting him so hard, because he couldn't talk to his grandfather, to Victor, to any of those people he loved and trusted. He was alone, unable to speak, each day passing by without the possibility to say how he was feeling, how scared he was to get adult and go through life by himself.

He would never dare tell Otabek. Instead, he prefered focusing on how sweet was that feeling in his chest whenever he saw the young man's nickname on messages, comments, and various posting in his timelines. It just made him smile again and again, felt like his heart was wrapped into some soft and warm feeling again. And smile, smile again, alone in the dark gloomy room, until his only friend was offline, leaving him to his reality.

Today wasn't different, after all, and Yuri tried not to sink deeper in those dark thoughts, tried to remember that sweet feeling of shy hapiness at Otabek's clumsy words. And if it wouldn't change his world so much, it was better to imagine being liked, if not loved, by someone.

#yuri on ice #yuri plisetsky #otabek altin #otabek x yurio #fanfiction #puberty #yaoi

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