The Eyes of a Hero

Yuri looked smug when he answered the call, like a cat who’s just convinced someone to give him an extra serving of snacks after he’s already rolled in a bunch of catnip. He beamed at Otabek. “Uura! You came on Skype!” he cheered happily. “Is that because I’m your favourite person?” he asked, clearly pleased with himself and a little drunk. 

Yuri huffed, but good humouredly. “You’re so drunk,” he commented. “What’s with you?” The hug felt nice though and it was nice to hear that he was missed while at work. He felt his heart rate accelerate a little and there was the slightest bit of pink of his cheeks visible when his roommate and best friend released him. “Did you do anything besides drink today?” he asked. “Why are you being weird?” 

Yuri squinted at Otabek. “For what?” he asked. “Hallowe’en? What kind of decorating?” 

Yuri laughed softly. “Sure! Do you want to wear my team Russia jacket?” he asked. “Nyet, let’s not invite him. We’re not close with him and he’s always whining about some girl he’s dating. It’s so boring,” Yuri huffed. “We could dye my hair black with some non-permanent dye,” he suggested. “And we can get you a blond wig. You can borrow my shirt with the lion on it. Can I borrow one of your band t-shirts?” he asked. 

Yuri burst out laughing, still with his arms on either side of Otabek as he lay on top of him. “Beka,” he said softly, shaking his head. “Don’t worry so much.” He booped the other boy’s nose with his pumpkin gut covered finger very lightly. “Boop!” he grinned. He leaned in and kissed Otabek deeply and passionately on the lips, slipping some tongue in there too and maintaining the kiss for quite a while before pulling back. “Okay, now we can go back to just carving pumpkins,” he said with a light smirk. He got off of Otabek picked up a black marker. “Classic pumpkin face or something more sinister?” 

My best friend and I just upgraded our tickets for tonights show at TD GARDEN!!

That means we have TWO (2) TICKETS AVAILABLE AND UP FOR GRABS!

They’re in the balcony section!! Message me if you’re interested!!

Yuri chuckled as he saw Otabek blush. “You really struggle with the dirty talk don’t you, Beka?” he teased, sticking out his tongue. “I don’t even have to flirt with you myself to watch your face catch on fire. But okay, I think I can add some fuel to the fires. What do you want me to do to you when you take me home with you?” he asked. He knew Beka wasn’t used to taking charge in this regard and he delighted in flustering him. “You’d be jealous too? I can’t really picture you jealous. You’re not so hot headed like me. What are you like when you’re jealous?” 

The Kazakh’s red tinted cheeks only flushed further thanks to Yuri’s teasing but he actually liked the way his boyfriend teased him, it was flirty and playful. No one else could get that kind of reaction from Otabek, not like Yuri did. His dark eyes widened a little at the suggestiveness in the Russian’s tone and he chewed his lip. He glanced around a little to make sure no one was so close that they could hear but everyone else seemed to be occupied by the drunken festivities. “I…,” he started quietly, “I’d like…I mean….” He cleared his throat and leaned in close to Yuri’s ear, whispering lowly to him, “make me yours Yura,” his lips brushed against him ever so slightly. “Of course I would be. You mean the world to me and I can’t wait for the day when it’s right for both of us to share how we feel,” he smiled softly, glancing into Yuri’s eyes in a way that if anyone was paying attention to them, would clearly indicate there was something more than there seemed at face value. “Quiet,” he shrugged, “I don’t think i’d do anything… but the idea of someone flirting with you right in front of me, the idea of someone trying to make you blush like you do to me,” he shook his head, “I’d want to tell them the truth…I wouldn’t because it’s not a great idea with your fans and everything going on in our lives…but I’d want to. I’d want them to know you already have my heart.” He blushed at the sudden sentiment, something so close to *love*, so close to the unsaid words but he wasn’t going to take them back.

Yuri smiled softly and leaned in, doing as Otabek asked. “Happy Birthday, Beka,” he said quietly. He stayed where he was, on top of Otabek and gazing down at him. His eyes were soft and his expression was confident and warm. He was sure of himself and it showed. He didn’t have any regrets and it didn’t make him nervous that he’d just kissed his best friend. He felt like it probably should, but he couldn’t help but just be glad of how good it felt. 

Yuri watched him uncertainly. He wasn’t sure if he trusted him. He wanted to. But he was Kazakh and the Soviet Union was at war with Alash Autonomy, as the Kazakhs called this land, so technically, he was at war with him, wasn’t he? He furrowed his brow. Still, he would have died if this man hadn’t given him water. He owed this boy…Otabek…his life. “Yuri Nikolaiovich Plisetsky,” he replied. “Your mother won’t like you bringing a Red Army soldier to your door and I will be shot along the way. I should stay here.”

He took the nuts and fruit from the other boy and ate them slowly. He didn’t really understand him at all. Didn’t he understand that Yuri was the enemy? He knew he shouldn’t really have pointed that out to him, but he couldn’t help himself. “Thank you for the food,” he said quietly. He felt a slight twinge of guilt. It had been a while since Yuri had been with his squad so he likely hadn’t been responsible for the death of the person from this man’s town. Still though, it was a little uncomfortable to him to see the men he had come to view as the enemy humanized.

He didn’t mind seeing Otabek as human. In fact, the other boy was very pleasant and had a trustworthy air about him. But when it was so plainly obvious to see a human man in front of him who lived in these lands and who could just as easily as anyone else here have taken up a rifle and heeded the call to arms, suddenly the faces of the men he’d killed haunted him more than ever.

He bit his lip and looked up at Otabek as he continued to slowly sip the water. “Otabek?” he said softly. “I”m sorry for your loss, that you didn’t find your friend in a healthier condition.” He spoke with sincerity and he meant every word. He hoped it wouldn’t sound bad coming from an enemy soldier. Surely this boy knew that it was his comrades who had likely killed his friend. Why would he help him after that?

“I came here from Moskva,” he answered. “I joined the Red Army, and it took me here. I appreciate the water and food. You should go back to your family.”

Otabek watched the soldier eat the food, relaxing a little since the other seemed to trust him. He knew that it would be wise to be more cautious than he was being but he didn’t have it within himself to treat people with judgement or distrust. The end he wanted for this war was for as many people as possible to go home to their families no matter what side they were on.

“I wish we were meeting in better circumstances Yuri Plisetsky. You’re so young to be a soldier, but I see it in your eyes through and through,” he said bluntly but delicately. “She won’t like it but she’ll trust me if I bring you there. If you stay here, you’ll likely never make it home. Everyone deserves to make it back to the people that care, red or white.” Though the words were somewhat naive, they were words that Otabek stood by.

"рахмет…thank you,” he said softly. “It’s a reality that both sides face—losing their neighbors, friends, and family. I will come back for him so that his parents can mourn him properly,” he nodded like he was assuring himself. “I will go back to my family, but please come with me, I will help you regain your health. You need your strength back so you can get back to your own family,” the Kazakh insisted.

Otabek could see something far beyond Yuri’s outward years in his eyes and it intrigued him and worried him all at once. He couldn’t help but admire the way his eyes seemed to hold his memories so clearly, but it also was troubling. He sensed a war-worn weariness in him that no young man should face alone. “You will be safe traveling with me and you will be safe within my home. I give you my word.” For many, his word would mean nothing, he wondered how it would be with Yuri.

Well, Otabek was right about one thing. It was another student’s note. But it wasn’t a joke and Otabek was being watched. Yuri watched the young Kazakh from between the shelves, hidden almost entirely from view. He’d had a class with Otabek early on when they’d started school. Yuri had started university a little early. Yuri wasn’t sure if Otabek had started university late or if he’d simply taken that particular course later in his studies than other students did. He’d actually be watching Otabek from a distance for some time. He was smart and open minded. It was a good combination for what Yuri was looking for and beyond that, the Russian simply found him captivating. He came off as nerdy, yet he wore a cool leather jacket, rode a motorcycle, and just generally looked as far from being a nerd and you could get. Yuri was studying science too. Physics with a minor in Chemistry. He had a few astronomy classes too. He’d had to go to school young. He had offers of scholarships and if he didn’t use them quickly, there was no way he’d be able to afford school, so off he went. By now he’d been in university a while and he’d be turning 20 in this school year. He’d been young when he’d noticed he had magic and as he grow older, it only became more potent and more controlled. In his teenage years, he had some problems with it. He was a little hot-headed and tended to cause accidental fires and storms. His scientific pursuits allowed him to work on his potion-making abilities and dabble in alchemy. He was also working on his fortune telling skills and broom stick riding. What he was noticing though, was that Otabek was magic capable too and didn’t seem aware and with things starting to get more complicated, Yuri needed a friend who could do magic too. Yuri felt a twinge of disappointment as Otabek seemed uninterested by the note he’d left. He wondered if the other boy was even aware of his existence. Foolish mortal. He sighed and pointed at the note, making it vanish. He waved his hand, forcing a whoosh of air through the library, just enough to ruffle Otabek’s hair and the pages of the book a little and perhaps cause a few neck hairs to stand on end from any nearby students. The wind was chill and ominous. Ha! Maybe now he’d get this stubborn boy’s attention. 

Otabek was just returning back to his studies when his senses went on alert. His hair stood up uncomfortably on the nape of his neck as he felt his hair move with a breeze and the pages of the book turn before his eyes. Frowning, he turned to look for the offending window but found none even remotely close enough to cause such a stir. He looked around and noticed that the note was gone now too. His head tilted with curiosity as he searched for the note beneath the table, thinking it might have gotten carried away in the breeze.

He felt odd, like suddenly he was too aware of the stillness in the air and the goosebumps rising along his arms. He looked around but the library seemed empty for the most part, many students choosing to be outside enjoying the day rather than in the library studying. He sighed and tried to clear his head of the note and he pulled out his laptop to take notes.

He logged in and started typing his header, notating the book and all it’s relevant contributions. It didn’t take long for the Kazakh to relax into his note taking, looking at the table of contents to make headers in his outline for the sections and pages that would be relevant to him. Before long he was reading through the first section, typing away. He got lost in his work, so much so that he hardly noticed what he was typing now. Breezing through the book at a rate that shouldn’t have been possible and never once glancing at his screen…that is until the screen flashed and his power cord made a horrible sounding pop, sparks flying where the laptop and the cord met.

“Shit!,” he whisper-yelled as he jerked the cord from the outlet and then the computer, leaving it to send delicate swirls of smoke into the air. He dropped his head as the screen of his laptop flashed in and out, catching glimpses of his notes. He couldn’t seem to read any of the notes, they were not composed of any language he was aware of. This whole thing felt really bizarre now. When his laptop finally stopped flashing long enough for him to get a decent look he found that there was one sentence that he could read, though he didn’t recognize the characters,

‘It begins with a discovery of Witches.’

Otabek froze, staring at the screen as his heart pounded deafeningly in his ears. Two sides within him struggled to help him. One said, pay attention to the signs, listen to your body. The other said, stick with what you know and don’t disrupt your life. He chose to listen to the latter, shutting his laptop and carefully placing it in his bag now that there was clearly no danger of flames. He shook his head and tossed the book a little haphazardly onto the cart to be shelved before striding out of the library without a second glance back.

Yuri had spent his whole life in the orphanage. He had vague memories of having family. He was sure he used to. He didn’t remember them though. All he had left was a necklace. Вместе в Париже. He was sure it was important, some clue to his past. Who had given it to him? His real parents? He was sure he hadn’t always been an orphan. When the young Russian turned 18, he was sent away from the orphanage. He was told if he took the left at the fork in the road, he could find the fish factory where the woman who ran the orphanage had found a job. He’d be Yura the little Orphan Boy forever! To the right was Leningrad, and maybe a chance to get to Paris and find the family who had given him that chain he wore.

The young Russian had been born in Lidiya Nicholaievna Plisetskaya. His father was a commoner, Alexander Vladovich Morozov and his mother never married him. He died as a result of his gambling debts before Yuri was born and since Lidiya’s involvement with him had been well hidden, Yuri was simply named with his grandfather’s last name and patronymics and his birth never properly explained. There were rumours and there was talk but no real conclusions were drawn. Having injured himself escaping the palace, Yuri didn’t remember any of that.

Yuri sat down, running his fingers through his hair in frustration. “Just give me a sign!” he demanded of the universe. Suddenly a very fluffy Siberian forest cat leaped out from no where and began playing with Yuri’s scarf. “Hey! Who are you and what are you doing with my scarf?” Yuri asked. Yuri frowned when the scarf came loose and went flying off towards Leningrad. The cat meowed and pranced off in that direction. “Seriously?” he asked. Small whirlwinds of snow twirled along the path. “Is this really your idea of a sign?” Yuri asked, glancing upward. He got up. “You’re a cat? You’re really think you can make me go to Leningrad?” he asked. Still, he followed after it and picked up the scarf.

He followed the cat, eventually scooping her up and carrying her the rest of the way. Leningrad was bustling and busy, but before long, he found out that in the old palace, he could find a man Otabek would could get people exit papers. He went to the old palace and looked around. It was quiet and dusty in there and something inside him felt weird being in there, almost as though something was dancing just outside the scope of his memory. He started to hum softly and move around the halls. It felt like he was remembering something, but he was sure he was simply thinking about what the palace had been like in the days when royalty had lived there.  

“Maybe we should just give up,” Otabek sighed in frustration, running his fingers through his hair and leaning into his hands with his elbows propped up at the small table he and Aidana were sitting at. The younger Kazakh stood up suddenly, “No Beka! we’re so close now! If we pull this off we can finally leave! Aren’t you sick of this life? Selling papers and risking our lives every day?!”

“Of course I am,” Otabek said quietly, looking up at his sister with eyes the suddenly seemed so much older than his twenty years. “I never wanted to bring you into this but it’s impossible to do alone,” he admitted. He tried to get work legitimately but work was hard to come by and they’d never have the money for all of them to leave that way. He was quiet for a moment, remembering a conversation that he was too young to be having, but nonetheless it was had. He remembered Dinara and Aibek pulling him our of bed light night and sitting at their tiny table while they told him that when he turned eighteen he should take Aidana and leave without them. He remembered his eyes welling up with tears as he looked at this parent’s hands clasped together, trying to give each other strength. He remembered shaking his head in defiance, refusing. More and more pressure was being placed on him the older he got and the more money they saved, to just take Aidana and get out. He was afraid that soon he would have no other choice but the thought of leaving his parents was too painful.

Snapping out of his reverie he started pacing in the small room. The room was nondescript and kept them from being noticed in the old palace. “I know…I just—we need someone who can convince Nikolai and I remember what Yuri looked like, I remember the spark in his eyes…none of these people will convince Nikolai. Eyes like that are unforgettable,” he said softly, dropping his head.

His head snapped up suddenly when he heard noise outside of their room, sounding like it came from the main hall. He glanced at Aidana and took off running out of the room, going to see who was there, if they were going to be in trouble or not. His sister stayed behind to put out their fire and candles and hide away their things as he dashed through the corridor. As he made It into the hall he caught sight of a boy with blond hair, standing with his back towards him in front of a painting of the royal family.

“Hey! How did you get in—,” his words were cut off as he saw the strangers face for the first time. He gasped, his eyes wide before shaking off his surprise, “…here?,” he finished quietly. His eyes darted between the painting and the boy standing in front of him, finding the same intensity in his gaze that the painting captured, but more than that, the same intensity that he remembered.

Alexander frowned a little, concerned by Otabek’s reaction to him. If he were being honest, he was actually a little scared. He hadn’t thought the demon would see through him so easily, that it would be so obvious to him that Yuri’s soul was already marked. He should have brought someone else. Someone he hadn’t sold yet. It had been greedy of him to attempt to squeeze blood from a stone. But Yuri’s time was almost up and he was frustrated with the way he’d been influenced by Nikolai and Yakov’s mob. Why not give him an extra nudge towards his inevitable demise and get a little extra out of it? Otabek seemed smarter than the demons he’d dealt with in the past. When he called Yuri forward to join then though, that’s when he really started to panic. “This really doesn’t concern him-” he began.

Yuri came forward, confused and a little troubled. He frowned, “Sold my soul?” he asked, completely confused by that statement. “What do you mean?” But in his heart, he already knew. He could see the darkness in this man’s eyes, the dark presence that seemed to radiate from him. He frowned and glanced at Alexander. “That’s why you brought me here? Sell your own soul if you wish to gain!” he said, crossing his arms. He watched the man uncertainly. “Who are you?” he asked. “What happens if we don’t make any deal?” He had heard the hounds already, though not often. He hadn’t paid it much attention. He had all kinds of weird hallucinations and flashbacks from the various combinations of PTSD and drug use so he’d figured it was just some other part of the mix. When Otabek asked his name, the young Russian spoke again, “Yuri Nikolaiovich Plisetsky.” Alexander huffed and gave his son a quick smack across the face. “No, it’s not, you piece of shit. Your name is Yuri Morozov. Alexandrovich Morozov.” Yuri rolled his eyes at him, barely affected by being struck. “Let your furniture take your name, мудак, I’m sure you place more value on it. I don’t want your name.”

“What happens if I just give you my soul now?” he asked. “What happens in Hell?” The demon’s offer sounded tempting, but he was still a demon, and from the sounds of it, he didn’t have much soul left to begin with. Sure, this was a demon he was talking to, but he had heard the hounds himself. He knew they were real. He knew that the demon at least wasn’t lying about his soul being marked for Hell. He was startled when the demon’s eyes went soft and brown. Was he human once? But he quickly shook that though away. He didn’t have time for those kinds of thoughts. They were a danger and nothing more. He looked over at his father. He’d never let him have a deal that actually benefited him. “How long do I have if he doesn’t take the deal?” Yuri asked. “Isn’t the whole point that you get payment? I’m already a payment, the time is just how long before you come to collect,” he said quietly. “Demons don’t grant something for nothing. Why are you doing this?” He didn’t trust anything the demon was saying.

Yuri wasn’t sure how old he’d been at the crossroads that night. Ten perhaps? Seven? It was a long time ago. How long did one get with a demon deal before the hounds came? As it happened, Yuri had one year left, having come to the crossroads at 8 with his father, 14 years earlier. The demon who’d given the deal had been generous, hoping–correctly as it happened–for Alexander’s continued efforts to bring him souls.

“Your father here has a rather nasty habit of selling what doesn’t belong to him. Namely, the souls of others,” Otabek explained. “I mean..he asked the demon of this crossroads before me to give him money and luck in his endeavors in exchange for your soul. When your time is up the hounds will come for you and tear you apart to bring your soul to hell, his debt paid. Don’t worry…you weren’t the only soul he’s sold over the years. I am Otabek, and if you don’t make a deal the hounds will come for you and you’ll go to hell and Alexander wins. He watched the interaction between father and son and even he, a demon was baffled as the younger Russian was struck across his cheek. He may have not been playing by his rules but he  he didn’t see why Alexander deserved to have luck and fortune, but he did deserve what would come to him.

“What happens in hell?,” he repeated with a soft chuckle, “Nothing good I can assure you that. At least not for your sort,” he shrugged. “You can give me your soul now and give up…but I don’t really take you for the kind to give in,” the demon replied cooly, “though I could be wrong…” his eyes stayed the softer brown color as he met Yuri’s gaze, finding an intensity there that piqued his interest.

“A year,” Otabek replied bluntly. “Truthfully the demon Alexander sold your soul to was quite generous…although you were so very young…it’s only fair, and he’s been good for business,” he nodded in Alexander’s direction though he was mostly focused on Yuri now. “I’ll get my payment regardless and I’m a very patient demon..and I must admit I’m a little bored. I get summoned, I make a deal, I collect. Where’s the entertainment in that? I suppose it’s all in my upbringing….I was raised by a jinn and it gave me an appreciation for changing things up a bit,” he shrugged.

He looked Yuri up and down again, hoping he hadn’t misread this intensity and strength he had sen within him. He had a dislike for Alexander but as long as he made deals and brought in souls it was out of Otabek’s hands to stop the business flow. What he could do was get Alexander’s greed to take him down and get a soul in the process. There was something intriguing about Yuri and he felt like if anyone deserved a chance to change their fate it was someone who’s fate had been decided for them.

        An organization meant to bring together those who the world would never understand. The specially gifted ones who are both outsider and superior to those around them. If you feel you have nowhere to belong, come join us. We have a place for you here.

{ KAT: Allow me to explain. Lately, I’ve been thinking about what it is I loved about MMO games and what I realized is I loved being allowed to entirely inhabit a character while other people do the same. When I’m in the game, I don’t exist. My character does. But then I realized what I like about single player games is that the character I am in those games is cooler than my blank slate avatar in MMO games. Same with Roleplaying. I get to be a cooler character than just me if I were a fairy. I get to be a specific character. But one thing with roleplay is it usually only happens between two people at a time. So I wanted to try an experiment. I made an entirely In-Character Discord Server where you show up, introduce your character as stay as them the who time. The server is built around being a covert organization so mission and event postings can be put up for people to sign on to specific plots, but you can also just hang out in character on the server like you are that character making friends, which I think could be fun! So I wanted to give it a chance. If you are interested, here is the link:

https://discord.gg/WnV5Vhn. 

It will never expire and everyone is invited. I will only kick people out if I feel the server is being abused. You can only be one character at a time but if you want to switch to a new one at any time you can submit a new application. OC and Canon characters from any fandom are invited you just have to submit an application to the “Application office” channel in the following format. (This one is for a character, leader of Nemesis )

(Picture/gif as shown above)

Name: Hyobu Kyosuke

Age: Physically 17, Actual Years 80

Gender Pronouns: He, Him

Nationality: Japanese

Species: Esper (Human with ESP)

Talents: Level 7 ESP. Emphasis on Teleportation (Moving from one point to another instantly) and Telekinesis (Moving things with the mind, including moving the body to fly.)

The young blonde looked put off, though it was not because he disliked his friend at all for what he was. He wouldn’t dislike Otabek for something so minuscule, but he was just somewhat annoyed at the fact that it had taken him this long to know something that seemed pretty crucial to someone’s life.

“You’re fucking kidding, right?”  Did he completely miss any signs or something? How did he not know this about his best friend? Yuri had decided it was an outrage, and he wanted proof. “I’m not fucking angry, I mean… maybe a little cause you might be just fucking with me. I want to see it. And stop bullshitting me, we’re supposed to be best friends. I don’t fucking lie to you.” The young russian replied, crossing his arms over his chest, lips still pursed, but looking at least much less surprised.

Otabek’s lips parted slightly with a hint of surprise at Yuri’s words, confused why he would think he would joke about something like this. He shook his head, chewing his lip, a tell of nervousness. He shook his head, I wouldn’t—I’m not lying. That’s why I had to tell you, I felt like I was lying to you and I didn’t want to do that,” he said quietly.

The darker haired boy took deep breath, closing his eyes as he prepared to call on something he’d always pushed away and denied. He didn’t want to do anything big, just enough so that Yuri believed him. His hands trembled a little as he focused, conjuring a small, glimmering ball of white light, it could almost be mistaken as an LED reading light except that it hovered just above his palms. His eyes were still squeezed shut as he dropped his hands, the ball of light staying where it was, floating in the air.

Yuri nodded slowly. “Yeh, it’s weird to think about,” he agreed. “I mean, we’re both pretty young still, ты знаешь?” He shrugged. “Я не знаю,” he said with some hesitation. “I’ve never really thought about life outside of skating. It’s been pretty much everything for me since I was a little kid. If I won then I proved myself, I made sure it was worth it that grandpa helped me do it, that I wasn’t just some mistake for my mother. That I could provide for her.” He shook his head, gazing off into the distance. He drank some more of his drink. “She was a Russian idol,” he said softly. “But she got pregnant and it ruined her career. I ruined her career. If I could skate and I could win and make money, maybe I didn’t ruin everything for her. Maybe she wouldn’t see me as just some mistake.” His face warmed as he realized how much he’d just told Otabek and he quickly too a long gulp of his drink. “Yeh, training could be cool,” he said hastily, as though he hadn’t just opened up his heart and soul to Otabek and bore it with no protective layers. “DJing is cool. Maybe when you’re older you could still do something related to music.”