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#feliks hand is too big I see it now

helenas-crashed-car · 2 years

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river rambles about viktor (real) (not arcane)

viktor. viktor mazur. envy. feliks' really tall spider freak boyfriend. spider dude taylor exploded into a bazillion bajillion pieces. viktor has a lot of silly little things I could call him! he's a lad. a very big lad. a very big spider lad. i adore him. i really shouldn't, because he's one of my main villains for my first comic part, but wow, he's one of my favorites!

as you can tell from my penchant for drawing him, I have problems in my brain. one of them includes liking a polish guy who bisected himself and attached him to a giant spider. he's probably my favorite antithesis villain, because I think jesse takes the spot as my favorite villain overall. jesse is just TOO funny to kill off. they say "slayyyy" and then shoot someone. viktor on the other hand? he kind of just... sulks in his cave all day, sometimes eating people. such a lad. love them both.

perpetually 24, viktor mazur is a former polish prince who has been confined to a cave for 500 years. he used to be a man who prided himself on researching anatomy and the body, seeking ways to improve his and others' health, but ultimately 500 years of being trapped in a cave have worn him down to a pallid man starving for a meal. feed this lad. he is a very jealous person, stewing in rage at seeing friedrich's collection of notes he isn't allowed to touch despite being accomplished in the medical field, or watching karlis pull bitches he could never get. his jealousy often boils over to hate or at the very least violence (sorry, feliks). it didn't help that he spent a good chunk of his adult life hanging out with the worst people in Europe in the 1500s, the Sins. there are a lot of reasons why viktor took the moniker of Envy.

one of viktor's closest friends was a latvian man, andris. andris is karlis' brother, but so, so, *so* much more tolerable. i cannot tell you how much I hate karlis. andris and viktor were the... most normal. of the sins, I guess. i mean, they weren't karlis, who valued pleasures of the flesh more than people. andris and viktor often worked together, although andris more assisted viktor with his research of the body than andris coming up with his own discoveries (andris is not very scientifically inclined). outside of scientific settings, they did both value each other. i bet they went to festivals together.

don't ship them together, though, andris is heterosexual. plus viktor already is dating a man named feliks, although feliks comes around 500 years later and andris and viktor haven't seen each other in also 500 years.

honestly, in an alternate universe, viktor would have been completely against friedrich. friedrich hoards knowledge, seeing himself as the only person fit to distribute or consume it (which isn't something shared by his descendant jesse, but they go to pretty wide lengths to obtain arcane knowledge they seek). he would not have been against him for moral reasons ("killing gods to try and obtain godhood is not right!"), but more "you're a nasty bitch let me into your library". i mean, he already disliked Friedrich because of his habit of hoarding knowledge, but *he* chose to follow him. and viktor *did* want to do the whole godhood thing.

viktor laments his decision to edit his body with a giant spider, and try and ascend to godhood, but honestly... yeah, it was his fault. the sins weren't a cohesive group, but they wanted the same thing. the only one who could get 'justified' would be andris, with karlis goading him to join him in godhood. but really, yeah, the sins are to blame. i love viktor as a character, absolutely adore him, but you have to understand: viktor helped kill several gods, killed the magical beast he was bonded with, grafted it to his body, injected himself with ichor, and now waits in a cave sticking people with his webbing then eating them later. he's a great character, but don't go around calling him the scrunkly. rotate him in your brain while keeping in mind of his crimes.

he will not stop rotating in my brain. i can't stop it. i might as well become a viktor mazur blog he is stuck in there. like a spider in a web... omg spider reference.

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linkcolnsstuff · 3 years

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Feliks Barnes The Cat

- Bucky Barnes & Stark!reader

anonymous to linkcoln ; hi, you're an very amazing writer! also i love your humor when we talked on Instagram especially your sarcasm! i was kindly requesting an Bucky Barnes and Stark Reader they're like friends? i know it wasn't in your blog but hopefully you'll do it love u linkcoln <33 :3

Pairing(s) ; Bucky Barnes , Stark!Reader

warning(s) ; None , Fluff

Author's Note ; the sweetest thing ive ever read, thank you sam for your requests! and also i do love your humor too as well <33

;

unexpectedly you discovered a black stray cat this morning, well you couldn't help but to help it out because as you gave him a treat everyday ad you walked pass by his trash can home he never stop following you.

as you went down into the avengers facility to show your dad what you got for him to take care (hopefully), he kept pressing his cute little fury head into your chest—you couldn't take it its adorable even tho he kinda smell something a little bit

as you walked inside the facility surprisingly pepper caught you up—

" oh hey there (y/n) "

" hey pep.. "

—it seems pepper noticed the black cat you were holding like a baby that you've owned

" we have a visitor here, what's this little one's name? "

what a relief, she likes the cute little black stray cat—you smiled of how aww pepper was into the black cat you've bring home

" yeah, i don't have a name yet "

" just don't name it after a bad word like your dad did Ten years ago "

—she was basically talking about your hamster, Candice basically (can dis nutz fit in your mouth)

" right "

you chuckle trying to hide the fact remembering that Tony accidentally hitting Candice with an broomstick after thinking it was a big fat rat, couldn't forget that it was literally smooth like a cake that have been step on

" anyways gotta go now because i gotta' fix something in the stark tower see you.. "

said both of goodbyes and continue to do yall business(es)—walking in the kitchen smiles from your friends or mostly family to you greet you up

" who's that cute little thing there? "

asked by your cool mother like person, Natasha Romanoff

" uh yeah, he doesn't have a name yet.. "

" the last time you did get a pet was ten years ago which didn't go very well "

oh, it's fury ghod the bald man is here again — you thought

" well, yeah—but I'll make sure he's in a good hands now.., "

" hopefully "

thor, the mighty god chuckle

" aren't you allergic to cats— (y/n) stark? "

shit it's your dad, Tony fuck he's probably going to throw that cat away—he really wasn't a animal person unless when it comes to you are pepper tell him to just bear

" umm, no—me and Betty just discovered this cat a few weeks ago and it never stop following me "

" but that doesn't mean you nerd to bring it here—like here,"

Tony said pointing at the marbled floor—every single time he does this and to be honest it's annoying

" ill take care of it okay dad, you don't need to give attention to his—he's just gonna be in my room "

" please dad, i promise this not gonna turned out like what happened to candi—to my hamster before "

Tony didn't got a choice with those pleading eyes his weak, since you were his world after him and your mother divorced he couldn't help but give up to say yes to his first child

" fine! expect you must locked your promise— (y/n) stark "

" Yeah! crossed my heart till death! "

you yelled excitedly as you ran at the elevator pressing some buttons so it would bring it up to your room—you were extremely happy, you wanted this since you were a kid and yet it finally happens

( time skip )

it's early morning like—2 : 47 am and yet you can't sleep due to your cat kept rolling around in your bed as if it was asking for something, food (nope) attention (nope) cuddling (extremely nope)

the first week of him in the facility was hard, it's like taking care of a kid, you didn't like a kid at the first place but no choice

you decided to take your cat outside who's name was still unknown—you sat on the couch freely opening the window making the cold wind enter the living room, making yourself comfortable and your cat which was on your lap a stepping sounds interrupted you— bucky?

an weird eye contact both of you did, unexpectedly it breaks because of your cat mewling for attention, you have him a weak smile and yet he did just look at you

" is there something wrong? "

—off that you just really need to break the silence and the awkwardness inside the room

" no.. i can't sleep, so you are? "

" not really, to be honest im tired it's just because this cutie here kept mewling "

you chuckle silently as you pet the cats head—bucky sitting on a single person couch resting his whole body in

" i think he needs a lot of attention, or mostly called parent love "

you were kinda shock of what he said like, Bucky Barnes knowing about cats—unbelievable

" parents love? "

" not really maybe belly rub with love "

he said as he make a "swiss-swiss" sound making the cat way into his putting it on his lap—it was honestly impressive even tho he looked like he came from a mancave or something

he lay the cat on its back as he rub its belly along with some humming unexpectedly the cat murmurs into bucky soft touch with its flesh

" wow, impressive,"

you chuckle quietly, into the facts just looking at both of them an names hit your head like a bee insert in your ear hole—FELIKS BARNES

" feliks.. barnes "

you mumble making bucks attention into you raising an eye brow

" feliks and my last name... why? "

" feliks in russian stands for lucky, and your last Name... maybe because feliks like you "

bucky's heart was overwhelmed—he felt happiness into his heart, if he could tear up he literally making a pool, he couldn't believe that he felt this—it wasn't really a big thing for others to be honest but he is definitely happy

" as if im the father "

he joked making you mumble a laugh—after that night you and bucky became nearly closed friends and sometimes cat sharing of course not only for both of you but with the other people in the house including your dad who almost spend his riches with your pet.

;

Author's Last note — TBH I FIND THIS REALLY CUTE HOPEFULLY YOU TOO SAM <3

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tauremornalome · 3 years

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tagged by the amazing @thiswaycomessomethingwicked (go check out their writing!) in the First Line game

The rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all!). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favorite opening line.

tagging: @alessandriana, @ajcrawly, @simaraknows, @koscheyyy, @selkiebinch, @writingat-night and anyone else who wants to do it!

The problems with my writing being 1. that a lot of it is embarrassing historical hetalia stuff, 2. that i hardly ever write with the intention of publishing, it turns out that often my fics don’t have a set fist line? cos they tend to come in the form of a collection of loose self indulgent little scenes. So this is definitely not going to be 20 of them. Untranslated Polish versions in the brackets.

1. wildfires and weeds (mdzs, wen ning & jiang cheng, vaguely pre-slash): Courtesy of Wen Ning's heightened fierce corpse senses, and Jiang-zongzhu's being likewise sharp thanks to his high level of cultivation, they manage not to run into each other even when they find themselves in the same general places at the same time - official joint nighthunts mostly, these days, since Jiang Wanyin has enough political awareness and faith in his nephew's abilities not to follow him on the more private ones.

2. provisional title “spiderman meme lol” (legend of fei, xie yun/zhou fei/wu chuchu pining): After parting with Yin Pei and burying Ji Yunchen the three of them leave together, and Xie Yun - well, he already knew he was absolutely, irrevocably fucked, but it takes him another two days to notice that he is not alone in his misery.

3. the crack-treated-seriously heist fic (mdzs, jiang cheng & jin guangyao): He had already sealed the room shut months before, so he didn't toss the damn flute along with the last shards of his sanity there when he first came back from the siege, broken and bloodied and still furious.

4. Najjaśniejsza, Serenissima, Świetlejszaja (historical hetalia, poland & grand duke constantin): "Ha!" The duke gestured wildly with his open hands. "I am a fool, Kuruta is a fool, and so you are a fool, too, Felya, even though you have yet to learn to admit it." [- No! - Wielki książę uderzył się dłońmi w uda. - Ja durak, Kuruta durak, i ty też durak, Felja, tylkoś się jeszcze nie nauczył przyznawać do tego.]

5. Pour Away The Ocean (tma, lonelyeyes): The Apocalypse nearing or not (oh, it's coming alright: he knows Jon will get the statements soon, so it's a matter of what? days?), it would be a shame to refuse a rarity that is an actual invitation to a Lukas family funeral. The last Lukas family funeral to ever be held, perhaps, though he doubts the hosts know about that. Peter had never been an overly sharing conversationalist.

6. untitled anti-dior rebellion fic (the silmarillion, doriath after thingol’s death): The change can be felt at the exact moment when the door to Lady Melian's chamber closes behind Mablung, the king's dead body in his arms, and everyone seems to understand immediately what it means. It is as if the thin thread bonding the queen to the mortal world broke, cut on the edge of that door-frame. The last time Lalorniel left the Girdle’s protection was before the first sunrise and now, several hundred years later, the feeling of being exposed to the whole world throws her off her tracks. She looks to the side and sees that Medlindir felt it too, and she wants to reach to him with her mind, but she doesn't - the world around them has suddenly gotten very big and some irrational part of her fears her fae could get lost in it. [Zmianę czuć już w momencie, w którym za niosącym skrwawione ciało króla Mablungiem zamykają się drzwi komnaty Meliany - i każdy chyba od razu rozumie, co to znaczy. Zupełnie jakby to nić wiążąca królową ze światem cielesnym pękła, rozcięta tą framugą. Lalorniel poza Obręczą bywała ostatnio jeszcze w czasach przed pierwszym wschodem słońca i teraz, po kilkuset latach przerwy, uczucie bycia odkrytym przed całym światem wytrąca ją na dłuższą chwilę z rytmu. Zerka w bok i widzi, że pełniący razem z nią straż Medlindir też to odczuł, i odruchowo chce sięgnąć do niego myślą, ale nie robi tego - świat wokół stał się nagle za duży i irracjonalnie boi się, że jej fae mogłaby się w nim zgubić.]

7. dwóch ołowianych żołnierzyków (historical rpf, prince poniatowski): Years later those who choose to believe this sort of thing will be telling stories of a ghost that supposedly visited the prince one night in March of the year 1813. An angel with black-and-white magpie wings. Unnamed white lady from the portraits covering the walls of the Copper-Roof Palace. [Lata później ci, którzy wierzą w takie rzeczy, będą opowiadać historie o zjawie, która miała się księciu ktorejś marcowej nocy roku 1813 ukazać. Anioł o czarno-białych sroczych skrzydłach. Bezimienna biała dama z portretu wiszącego w jednym z pokojów Pałacu pod Blachą.]

8. provisional title “DepTaj Margrabiego!” (the year 1861 in warsaw except its set in a harry potter-style ministry of magic. don’t ask me.): The margrave transfigured his bed back into an armchair and gestured with his wand at the coffee machine, praying quietly for someone up there to send them some kopi luwak with the next supply package. [Margrabia przetransmutował łóżko z powrotem w fotel i machnął różdżką na ekspres do kawy, modląc się w duchu o to, aby ktoś na zewnątrz był na tyle domyślny, żeby w następnej paczce nadesłać zapas kopi luwak.]

9. the year 1861 in warsaw again except now there is a zombie apocalypse going on (once again, don’t ask me. ocs and some hetalia elements.): "Swear," Sergey hisses with fury as he struggles to push the heavy dresser. [- Przysięgajcie - syczy Siergiej wściekle, szarpiąc się z ciężkim kredensem.]

10. time will say nothing (historical hetalia, poland/france/pauline bonaparte): Pauline is the one to fall asleep first, as always, not wearing anything else over her thin nightgown - so it can be expected that she will usurp all of the bedsheets to herself during the night. Feliks, who lies in the middle, succumbs to sleep soon after, his face turned to France, mumbling some apologies about not having the energy to move to the other bedroom, which earned him a soothing shush from François. [Paulina zasypia, jak zazwyczaj, pierwsza, nie zarzuciwszy na cienką koszulę nocną drugiej warstwy ubrania - można więc spodziewać się, że w ciągu nocy zauzurpuje sobie całą kołdrę. Leżący pośrodku Feliks pogrąża się we śnie niedługo po niej, twarzą zwrócony w stronę Francji, wymamrotawszy przedtem jakieś przeprosiny za to, że nie ma siły przenieść się do drugiej sypialni, na co François uciszył go uspokajająco.]

11. Minąwszy przeznaczeń mielizny (oc, hetalia-adjacent): Sergey wakes up with his cheek pressed to the travel briefcase, a little surprised with the fact that he had apparently managed to fall asleep despite the train's hellishly loud noises. The curtains in his compartment are closed, but he knows that outside it must be even more dark than in here - nothing less should be expected in this part of the world in December. [Siergiej budzi się z policzkiem przyciśniętym do teczki podróżnej, lekko zaskoczony faktem, że oto jednak udało mu się zasnąć w hałasującym niemiłosiernie pociągu. Zasłony w przedziale są zaciągnięte, ale wie, że na dworze musi być jeszcze ciemniej niż w środku - niczego innego nie należy się spodziewać w grudniu w tej części świata.]

I am very fond of the opening lines to the doriath fic and the zombie fic (there is a dialogue happening as they are barricading the door and running up the stairs). As for the patterns, I already knew I had the Sentences Too Goddamn Long Disease, so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

I also like to open with dialogues, which might not be very visible here, but is objectively the truth. This list sadly does not include my 30 minutes shitpost drabbles (which are mostly crack hetalia anyway).

#l9 #oof

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kitaychan · 3 years

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We need to talk

Summary: After a breakup, Ivan realizes his life was not as fullfilling as he had thought. Reaching out to old friends might prove to be a slow task with interesting outcomes.

Chapter preview: Knocking on the door, Ivan waited until some steps were heard.

A small blonde opened the door, his green eyes scanned him disinterestedly.

Ivan shifted uncomfortably, looking down at his phone. "I'm sorry, I think I got the wrong address"

The blonde, smirked. "No, you are Ivan, aren't you? yeah, you totally look like an Ivan."

The russian nodded, frowning slightly, there was no doubt that this was the guy he'd seen with Tolys yesterday.

"My name is Feliks and you should be ashamed."

Ivan knitted his eyebrows together."Pardon me?"

Chapter 6: By the window.

The long corridor was an uncomfortable place for Ivan to say the least.

He could tell that several families habitated there, apart from the shared elevator ride with children, the people inside the apartment were noisy, tv programs could be heard even when all the doors were closed, there was a dog barking somewhere.

The place had been built without consideration for tall people, he had to take care not to hit his head with the lamps and the fact that his head surpassed the door frames made him think he was a gigant.

Knocking on the door, Ivan waited until some steps were heard.

A small blonde opened the door, his green eyes scanned Ivan disinterestedly.

Ivan shifted uncomfortably, looking down at his phone. "I'm sorry, I think I got the wrong address"

The blonde, smirked. "No, you are Ivan, aren't you? yeah, you totally look like an Ivan."

The russian nodded, frowning slightly, there was no doubt that this was the guy he'd seen with Tolys yesterday.

"My name is Feliks and you should be ashamed."

Ivan knitted his eyebrows together."Pardon me?"

The blonde waved a hand and laughed. "Yeah, your cat is getting fat, you have to be careful with that.-Feliks paused, examining him again- Though, I can tell that it might be Tolys' fault. You don't seem to be easily manipulated by that fluffy demon. Wait."

Ivan was left alone in the corridor, this Feliks guy had just closed the door in his face and called his cat "fat", how dare he? Boris was just fluffy and big, he wasn't fat.

The door was opened again and before Ivan could contradict Feliks accusations, he was faced with green gentle eyes.

Tolys was looking as usual except for the strange half-done ponytail he had.

Noticing Ivan's stare he quickly took off the elastic holding his hair. "I'm sorry, uhh… Ivan do you want to come in?"

Ivan sighed. "Tolys, I just want my cat back. Natalya told me about the calls."

He didn't want to be mean but he wasn't here to have a chat with Tolys, the situation was awkward enough.

The brunette nodded and smiled tightly. "Right, uhh, I'm sorry, just let me get him."

Tolys left the door open, Ivan could see the interior of the apartmen. It was too colorful for his liking or perhaps too bright, he wasn't sure but there was something in the way everything was arranged that irked him.

Soon the mewling of Boris and Tolys steps were heard, the brunette was holding the cat with difficulty as it trashed and complained noisily.

Tolys handed him the cat."Here he is, uhh Ivan, it wasn't on purpose, I don't want a misunderstanding."

Ivan took it easily, glancing at Boris,the cat had stopped being noisy. "Sure."

The brunette fidgeted with his hands. "Your sister was quite scary."

Ivan stepped back and chuckled. "I Know."

"Ivan, I'm sorry."

Tolys voice was soft and Ivan refused to meet his eyes. "Tolys I already talked with Natalya, it's fine."

The brunette shook his head,."Uh.. I was referring to your other sister but it's ok, she apologized after I explained,"-Taking some hesitant steps towards him he added- "What I'm trying to say is that I'm sorry, I should have talked to you at home, I mean, in the apartment and not at work. And well, it doesn't make it any better but I'm sorry for not acting maturely and blaming you for everything and I'm sorry for-"

"I accept your apology." Ivan interrupted.

Feliks' head peered at the door His voice made Ivan frown. "Wow, he seriously is as stoic as you said, like really, a man of few words, I don't get why you'd like him Tolys."

Tolys turned back, flustered."Feliks!"the blonde's laugh was heard, the brunette looked back at Ivan. "I'm sorry-"

Ivan turned quickly. "Yeah, Goodbye Tolys. I'll see you when I get back to work"

The ride home was supposed to be peaceful, he had Boris back but he still felt an emptiness lingering. Feliks words echoed in his mind, even when his impression of the blonde wasn't favorable, it still hurt.

When he arrived home, Boris went on his usual business, laying next to the window and glaring at the people outside. Ivan laughed, Boris was his usual grumpy self, he wasn't judging him because Boris didn't care.

It stung his heart to think that Tolys would say something like that about him, but what hurt the most was that this Feliks guy, didn't know him at all and still confirmed Tolys' complains just after a small exchange of words.

Ivan placed a chair next to his cat and mimicking him, he glanced outside. There were a few pedestrians crossing the street, the store by the corner was open, he imagined that Feliciano was there, talking excitedly with an amused client.

A red car passed in front of the store, he followed the automobile until it was out of his sight, perhaps it was Matthew's car, maybe Alfred was inside it, laughing lightly and exchanging jokes with his brother.

Just then, Ivan realized that the emptiness he was feeling was just loneliness. He was tired, not physically but perhaps emotionally. He knew Alfred was his friend, that his sisters loved him, but they all had lives apart from him. As egotistical as it sounded, all he wanted right now was to have someone unconditionally there with him.

Boris purred and Ivan looked down at him. How unfair of him to forget about Boris. He was there, right beside him. Smiling, Ivan reached for his cat and placed it on his lap. "Boris, I think it's time for us to go on vacation."

#hetalia fanfiction #hws russia #hws lithunia #hws poland #hws fanfiction #my writing

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icariagazette · 3 years

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A (messy) summary of what’s been happening in Icaria over the last two-ish months.

Council meetings will be starting up soon!! It’s shaping up to be a big, wacky group.

Chloe’s back in town after unexpectedly extending her stay in London by two weeks! She’s moving out of her one-bedroom apartment that she shared with Nikhil and Mari and in with her girlfriend Noelle. Nikhil and Mari have decided to continue being roommates. Chloe decided for good that instead of moving back to London, she wants to live in Icaria because her friends are her family too!! Ava seems a little ticked at Chloe for not being honest with Noelle the whole time but things seem okay.

Kai and Feliks are giving some gay vibes in each others’ direction. It’s very soft and sensual- especially after Kai’s been having vaguely prophetic dreams for years about a faceless man who is definitely definitely Feliks.

Romeo has decided to grow a terrible porn stache and is having a nice time living with Georgiana.

Charon siblings in general are in danger. Romeo insulted Sam for trusting crystals and I do NOT want to be on Sam’s bad side. Help him???? Yona has already gotten punched in the face by Robin. Also she crashed face first into the ground. And annoyed Alek. IDK girl has just been extra gay and kind of a menace.

Alek is soft for Mari and ONLY Mari. She tolerates select few people, including her freeloading brother Dmitri, who only seems to know how to cook microwave hot dogs. Dmitri whacked Mari’s hand with a shovel after Mari made him plant a tree. This is to make up for the time when Dmitri wore a ski mask and illegally chopped down a Christmas tree in the woods somewhere. Anyway, you know Alek’s gonna be pissed.

Sasha and Jack seem to be doing pretty well raising their twins. Sasha may finally come back from maternity leave soon.

Rye kissed Jasmine buuuuut then Jasmine kissed Rye back. Gasp. Luna who?

Deacon and Mira came back! Deacon isn’t a cop anymore. What will this man do in life???

OMG are Benji and Bernie going to find out they’re full siblings??

Daniel and Remi are planning to open a dance studio together!!

There is a musical. It has been cast. Possible points of drama are mostly Colton-related. If you’ll remember, he and Briar were technically married. He also will have to watch his best friend Warren have a chill time with Warren’s other good friend Levi. We’ll see what shakes out.

Kass and Zoey are a thing or something omg but Kass’ ex Aurora is in town and it’s really awkward.

Cole is only just realizing that his ex Harper has a son... and it is his son! Whoa.

Jane is discovering the world!! Folks like Astrid, Bernie, Mari, and Tori have been helping her learn these things. While Jane isn’t stupid, she didn’t have the chance to learn about... basically anything.

Dexter and Ezra are on tenuous terms but it seems like it could be soft. Let’s see what happens.

Cromwell siblings are a force to be reckoned with in Icaria. Bel’s been doing gremlin things. Kelly may or may not be trying to collect a harem. Probably more casual than that. Millie’s been getting set up with her new shop and with her somewhat less new boyfriend Noah :)

Lark hasn’t apologized to Steffi yet but is working on a genuine apology. Whatever that means. Apparently Lark is trying to become a better person or something but this is taking forever. But it looks like Steffi isn’t going to wait around for... anything? After Lark admitted to Caroline that Caroline was a factor of the big Steffi/Lark argument, farm girl showed up at Steffi’s to find... packed boxes??? Is she moving? What’s happening?

Finn is a good brother. How good of a brother? So good he might even have another sister he doesn't know about to be a brother to.

Will’s back! Who’s Will?? Will Thompson. You might have thought he was dead, but he is not! His old pal Gwen and his brother Mike are really glad to see him now.

Jolene is opening a RESTAURANT and it's going to be totally unlike any other eateries on the island.

Looks like Adrian and Atticus are kind of sort of going to date (maybe?) which is wild af for both of them.

And that’s what you missed on GLEE! ICARIA!

- A

#icaria: gossip

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wherearemyglassesbro · 4 years

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So uhhhh lawyer au. Who's locked up and why? (like Prussia) Also are there any characters who have side jobs that come into play even if they're not regularly in the office or court? (like how N. Italy(?) was in charge of suits)

Yes....lawyer Au again... :D I’ve missed it

Inmate 44671-E-8: Alastair Kirkland is the eldest of the Kirkland brothers. As they grew up, he set a terrible example for his brothers. He still gets himself in trouble but is slowly trying to better himself. He’s in the middle of a four year sentence for an armed B&E, where he also injured three officers while resisting arrest. Prison isn’t very fun but he’s learning to mellow out and control his inner rage. He tries to keep in contact with Arthur but he usually refuses to see him. Ali also tried to hire Art to defend him in court but he refused then too. Ali was prosecuted by Natalya Braginsky two years ago. Arthur sat in the public viewing area with a coat and hat on so he wouldn’t be recognized. Alastair has a girlfriend who he met through a prisoner dating site but when he gets out, he plans on dumping her and moving far, far away.

Peter Kirkland: Peter’s a freshman in highschool who’s been to juvie twice, both for assault. He thinks Arthur is a kiss-ass and he thinks his delinquent brothers are awesome. He goes and sees Alastair in prison every other week and calls him from home if Ali’s alllwed to have phone time. Arthur rents a car to drive up to his family’s house every month or so just for peter, to check in on him. Peter’s an ass though. Last time Art went to see him, he hotboxed Art’s rental car and left burn marks in the car seats...on purpose. Deep down, Peter is afraid of being sent to prison for real but he craves attention. So he acts out. He’s gonna get a taste of reality soon enough...cause once he turns 16 he can be tried as an adult...Uh oh. Arthur is very worried but he doesn’t show it, instead he just yells at Peter or lectures him endlessly with his lawyer talk. Lammmeeeeee

Łukasiewicz, the magician: Feliks ‘Ken Ka-Dazzle’ Łukasiewicz is a traveling magician who won an American talent television show. He travels around Europe and the Americas to perform his act with various circuses or (occasionally) a cirque show. He had his own show in Las Vegas for a summer and performed in another casino for a few nights in the fall while another act fell ill. Feliks was suspected of robbing and killing another magician! He hired defense attorney Herdarvey(did not spell that right lmaoooo) to defend him!! His case was all over the news and people still believe he committed that murder despite the judge and jury ruling him ‘Not Guilty’ after a gruesome full three day trial. Because Eliza defended him so greatly, Feliks pays the rent for her law firm and the rent for her house! He also sends her flowers and cards often despite her husband hating it.

Firefighter Oxernstina: Tino is a firefighter! I talked about him a bit before! He was a firefighter in Finland before moving to LA with his parents! He went though the fire academy there (again) and was quickly hired by the Los Angeles fire department! He was welcomed in without a hitch!! His coworkers love working with him. Tino loves his job too, he works seven nights a month and gets paid very nicely. He loves saving people, it just!!! Makes him feel so good. He met Berwald at a city worker event and married him about a year and a half later. They’ve been married for a little over six years now and they’ve got an adopted son, Oscar, from Sweden! Tino’s side job is coaching the highschool hockey teams! He loves those kids! Berwald comes to every match he can to be supportive. He also brings Oscar to hopefully spark an interest in hockey for him

Eduardo Sousa-Carriedo: Eduardo is Antonio’s step brother. The two do NOT get along but when they’re forced to go to a family gathering, they act very friendly. Eduardo is a private investigator who works out of San Francisco. He lives there but he isn’t around much, he spends a lot of time in Brazil working for big businessmen there. It’s all under the table of course! He makes a pretty penny doing that but he doesn’t live like a rich guy. He has an average house, a nice car...he flaunts his wealth subtly. Diamond earrings, expensive watches, custom briefcases, sleeve tattoos, designer sunglasses. That kind of stuff. He has a handful of clients in Los Angeles so he’s forced to go sometimes and avoids his brother like the plague. And speaking of avoiding, he also has his ex-wife to worry about. She isn’t really tbag important though. After their bitter divorce, she’s been after him trying to get more and more money. Ugh. What a pest. Eduardo plans on moving to Brazil eventually, disappearing without a trace so she can’t find him. That’s how badly he wants her out of his life.

Angelique Dieudonne: Angelique is a casino chain owner! She has multiple locations, the biggest being in Monaco, Vegas, LA, Madrid and NYC. She’s never in one place for too long, she hops locations constantly. Many believe that she’s hosting a huge money laundering scheme but no one talks. She’s practically untouchable. She’s got a team of lawyers, social media managers and advisors on her side. She strikes down videos about her, she refuses on-the-spot interviews, makes employees sign contracts to keep them quiet. All kinds of stuff!!! She’s very powerful. She buys out casinos in popular areas and makes them her own. Her casinos are large and glamorous! Casino goers are usually too busy being drunk and feeling like royalty to realize how much money they’re REALLY spending on games. But that’s all a part of her plan. The prosecutors have a blast talking conspiracy, Ivan gets especially heated about it. He can’t wait for her downfall and claims that he’ll throw a party when she goes to prison

Gianni Vargas: Feli and Lovi’s younger brother. He’s a highschool student who works at the shop with Feli on weekends! He is not allowed to go to work with Lovi because he’s ‘hazardous’ and ‘inattentive’...which may be true. He has little interest in Lovino’s job cause he thinks working with dead people is gross. He looks up to Feliciano though! He wants to be stylish and suave like him! He plans on going into art school after he graduates. He wishes he could drop out of highschool to work in the clothing store with Feliciano but that would never be allowed!!! He goes with Feli to deliver suits so he’s a familiar face at the prosecutors office!! Francis is especially kind to him when he comes around “Awww! There’s my favorite style icon!!” It’s embarrassing but he thinks that Francis dresses cool so he puts up with it. When he turns 18, Gianni’s gonna get his own custom suit from Feli and their grandpa!! Only four more months!! He dreams of his soon to be suit every night!! The fitted pants...the padded shoulders....the fancy buttons...oh boy!!

((There are spelling errors but I am too lazy to fix them lmao sorry :) and there is more to add but I have fake nails on and it’s a muricle that ive managed to type this much haha

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ghostspideys-moved · 4 years

Text

We’ll Have Tomorrow

Chapter Twelve (END)

A/N: And so, we’ve reached the end for now. I’m currently working on the next part of this, so don’t worry. There will definitely be more. I don’t know how many people have stuck it out this long, but thank you to anyone who’s read this far.

Word Count: 1.6k

Pairings: Steve Harrington x OC, Nancy Wheeler x Jonathan Byers x OC

Summary: Graduation has finally arrived. River and Hawthorne have the whole summer ahead of them to relax after everything life has thrown at them.

Graduation was a big event, and it always seemed so far away until suddenly it wasn't. Hawthorne was still having a hard time wrapping his head around this. He was done with high school, and summer had officially started. It was crazy to believe, but it was true.

Hopper couldn't be more proud of him and River. They'd come so far in only a few months, which had come and gone like nothing.

Hawthorne had to admit, he really had a lot of people to thank for him getting this far. if it wasn’t for Max, he might have really bombed math, and he wouldn't have figured out so much about his reading problem.

Because of River, he'd learned lots of different ways to approach his problems, so she deserved just as much credit.

And Hopper certainly deserved mentioning. He was so different from their father, and he'd been nothing if not supportive this whole time.

Of course, he couldn't leave out Nancy and Jonathan. They'd been together for a few months now, and life seemed great. They'd helped him with lots of things, both on a smaller and bigger scale.

It was hard putting into words how much everyone meant to him, and how much he owed these people.

Really, he didn't have any major plans right now, but he wasn't stressing about it. For now, he could revel in the fact he made it this far in his life. With the constant threat of Hawkins Lab looming over his head for so long, he never thought he’d even get this far. With that problem out of the way, it seemed like there were so many possibilities he had yet to explore.

Hopper made sure they had plenty of pictures, mainly wanting to hang them up around the house. It was embarrassing, sure, but overall, it was nice that he would think to do that. Especially knowing he wasn't always the most sentimental.

Despite Hawthorne's weak protests, Hopper ruffled his hair and hugged him. "I'm really proud of you, kiddo. You and your sister," he said, smiling.

"Thanks. That means a lot." And it did. It practically meant the world to him knowing he had a more supportive adoptive father now. One who cared about the things he did and whether he did well. Not just because it was expected of him, but also because he wanted Hawthorne to do good in life. It was more than anyone had ever done for him, aside from his sister.

With this being the last day for the seniors, everyone was crowded together, hoping to say goodbye to anyone they needed to.

Hawthorne was searching for the two people he wanted to see most right now. It wasn't so hard to spot them, and when he did, he immediately rushed over.

"So, what are the plans over in this neck of the woods?" he asked. "Any plans for the summer?" He was curious, really. They'd talked about it a little, but they hadn't had solid plans at the time.

Nancy grinned and nodded. "Yeah, actually."

"We were thinking about applying for an internship at the Hawkins Post," Jonathan said.

He couldn't help the pride swelling in his chest when he heard that. If there wasn't anything he believed, it was that they could do just about anything. After fighting off monsters from another dimension (twice, no less), the world was practically at their feet.

"What about you?" Nancy asked.

"Not sure," Hawthorne admitted. "But I think a summer job would be nice, so I'll look into that."

They smiled and nodded, taking his hands. it was still a waking dream for him, knowing this was real. He was dating the two people he'd wanted more than anything. The longing he had to endure in the short time he'd realized his feelings, and even before then, even if he hadn't realized. It was unbelievable. And maybe they hadn't been together for long, but it felt much longer, and he'd never felt so sure about anything in his life.

"My mom's having a little celebration if you and your dad want to join," Nancy said, snapping him out of his thoughts.

"Yeah, I'll let him know."

The party had gone pretty well. Maybe not super eventful, but in a nice kind of way. life had been such a roller coaster that it was nice to relax, take a breather, and slow down a little.

Being back at home was also nice, and it was easy to slip into a relaxed state. After today, he officially had the summer sprawled before him. He wasn't sure what that entailed, but he was excited nonetheless.

Interestingly, he'd been in charge of grabbing some mail, most of which consisted of bills and other adult things. He still flipped through curiously, pausing only when he saw his name. Not just his. His and River's. Curiously, he set the rest of it on the table and leaned against the counter.

His curiosity won, and he quickly tore it open. It took him a second, but he read the letter before reading again, hoping he was understanding correctly.

He rushed to River's room, making her read it so he knew he hadn't misinterpreted. Of course, she gasped, confirming he was correct.

"Do you know what this means?" she asked.

Hawthorne nodded. "Yeah. We have other family members somewhere."

She skimmed through it again, looking for something specific. "Belarus and Sweden to be exact. which means, they must have moved at some point."

It wasn't too far fetched, and Hawthorne couldn't help how excited that made him. On the other hand, there was always the possibility they weren't much better than. their father, but the risk might be worth it.

Of course, convincing Hopper was another story.

"I'm sorry. You have what? Where?" His eyes widened in shock, not sure he heard correctly.

"Look, Hop, I know you're concerned, but this could be a good thing for us," River insisted.

Hopper sighed and rubbed his neck, slumping in his chair. "No, I get that. But so soon? I mean, how do you know this is even real?" Naturally, he had some concerns, as any guardian might.

"It's worth a shot," Hawthorne added. "I mean, it's only for about two weeks or so, which is hardly much of the summer. That's a week out of, what? Three months?'

Of course, he wasn't feeling better about the whole thing, but Hopper knew more than anything that it would be hard to stop them. At least it might be better if he knew where they were rather than having them sneak off like El had.

"Fine, but only for that time frame, and we will set this up better," he said.

They cheered and shared a high five, knowing this was as much of a win as they could get.

Packing had taken some time, and by the time things were set up properly, it was about mid-June. Hawthorne was far more excited than anything else, and he was jittery nearly the whole way to the airport. Not in a bad way, really. Just from excitement.

As anyone might be upon knowing they'd be visiting relatives they only vaguely remembered, he felt awkward and nervous. He didn't know what they would be like because he didn't remember them much at all. If he thought hard enough, he could recall small things, but not nearly enough.

As was expected, Hopper was more than distressed about letting them go, but he'd come to terms with them leaving for a short period of time. He knew they probably needed this after everything with their father, and he didn't want to ruin that. Seeing them off was still hard.

Especially when Hawthorne eventually spotted who he was sure was their aunt and Uncle.

From what he could recall, and from what had been thrown in the letter, their uncle Feliks was their father's brother, but he was alarmingly different. He was a scientist and engineer, which was interesting on its own. And he lived in Sweden with his boyfriend-slash-roommate. That alone was comforting enough knowing it might be easier to talk about things happening with him and his significant others.

Their aunt, Anya, was their mother's sister, and she was a writer living in Belarus, and had been for about five years now.

Both of them seemed too good to be true, so seeing them in person was even crazier.

Hopper sighed and gave them both quick hugs. "Just remember. Be careful, don't be afraid to get a hold of me somehow if you need to. El said she'd be more than happy to be the mediator if you need to reach us," he said.

Hawthorne smiled and nodded, noticing how teary-eyed he was getting.

"I'll see you guys when you get back."

River gave him one last quick hug before she excitedly ran over to greet their aunt and uncle.

Hawthorne gave him a smile and a quick hug. "We'll be back before you know it. And then we'll tell you all about it when we get back," he promised.

Hopper ruffled his hair and nudged him forward.

It was nerve-wracking knowing he was about to launch himself into a whole other section of his life that hadn't been explored yet. But it was also exciting, and he was unbelievably happy that this opportunity had presented itself.

As the four of them boarded the plane together, he took his seat and dwelled on what might come of this. How different everything might be tomorrow, if at all, now that he was going to finally start this new chapter in his life.

For as nervous as he started out, he was feeling a lot better knowing he wasn't alone. River was on this journey with him, and more than anything, he trusted that if she was ready to take this leap of faith, he'd gladly jump in after her.

Taglist: @bravest-at-heart @musicalytrashpanda @queenofthehairharrington

#steve harrington #dustin henderson #mike wheeler #nancy wheeler #jonathan byers #will byers #joyce byers #jim hopper #jane hopper #max mayfield #lucas sinclair #stranger things #stranger things 2 #stranger things 3 #steve harrington x oc #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington headcanon

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atom-ash · 4 years

Note

sO¯ I saw that you take requests, so please, could I see Ruspol oneshot? 🥺👉👈

Hell yeah! Ruspol isn’t in my wheelhouse but I tried lol. Hope you enjoy!!

“За здоровье!”

Ivan Braginsky chugged the liquor lining the walls of the Russian Bar. He sat in the wooden bar and was chatting with the locals. Things had been quite chaotic in Moscow, so he had decided to visit the border towns.

His fellow-men had been making fun of his jacket, it was clearly new and rather fancy. Clearly from the Russian metros. Whatever he was going to get so drunk he couldn’t even register their joking.

The vodka warmed him up. He was stupid as to not wear two jackets when he left, even though a blizzard had been anticipated that day. Drawing his scarf closer to him, he drank more and more.

Wood being thrown in the fireplace, shot glasses clinking, people conversing was all that was heard in the pub. Until the door was slammed open, causing snow to flow in quickly. Immediately there was yelling to close the damn door. Ivan turned, looking for the man who had entered. Then his eyes ran over the short blonde.

“Sweet Jesus! It is so damned cold out there! I can feel my feet dying!” His rather feminine voice stood out among the deep Russian.

“I’m in the Empire right? I have to be in Калуга by now!”

Heads spun as it was realized he had a polish accent, a strong one at that. Ivan’s heart dropped. He was right. It wasn’t any Pole, it was that Pole, Feliks.

“No, you’re only in Красный. And yeah, this is Russia. So what are you doing here.”

“What are you talking about? I’m just on my way to Moscow! You expect me to stay out there in that hell? Absolutely no! Look at my hair, the tips look like icicles!” He demonstrated by holding his shoulder-length hair up.

“Yeah well, that’s your own fault for not wearing any ушанка” A random guy backhanded his head.

“Ow! That’s not necessary..”

“Kinda like some polish girl coming in here. Go down the road!”

“I want to drink, and I’m a man! LOOK” He slapped his chest “No boobs!”

“We said иди в баню!”

“I have a right to be here! All I want is some Wyborowa! Let me through!”

Men were starting to push him out of the door. Feliks cried out and tried to intimidate him.

Ivan suddenly barked out at the men. They stalled and turned to look at him.

“The boy. He’s with me.” The Pole looked shocked as he held his arm tightly.

“Well, then neither of you are going to be in here! You’re causing too much trouble. We don’t take your kind.” The owner finally said something and tried to calm the men down.

Feliks tried to protest but Ivan practically dragged him out.

He pushed the Russian’s arm away and stood to face him

“What in the good hell are you doing?! Leave me alone! I don’t need you bailing me out of situations you jerk!”

“Those guys were going to eat you alive” Ivan stared off towards the town “I will rent us a hotel room so you are not in the cold, good deal?”

“No! I am not going to stay with you! You’re going to hurt me in my sleep! Don’t try to deny it you bastard!!”

The Russian chuckled “You do not have to believe me. But I will also get you alcohol, don’t worry”

“F-Fine!” He crossed his arms and shivered “But just know that I’m only doing this for vodka!”

“Yes, of course I understand” He took off his ushanka “But it is too cold for you out here.”

Feliks was quiet as they walked until he stopped. Ivan turned around and asked what he was doing.

“T-thanks you big Russian jerk”

“What? Oh. Is no problem. Countries have to look out for each right?” He grinned. Feliks caught up with him and scoffed.

“Where was that thought when you attacked me over and over again?” They stopped in front of a nice looking inn. Ivan handed him 4,200 roubles.

“Get us a nice room. I will go to buy the Vodka. Oh and just so you know…” Feliks stopped in the middle of the doorway. “I am sorry. I will try to do better from now on. My friend”

Feliks face flushed “Why was the Russian being nice to him when he was the biggest jerk in existence for centuries? Probably some stupid selfish reason” He thought.

After about half an hour Ivan returned with the alcohol. His hair was covered in tiny snowflakes and his face was red from the cold.

“Woah, I didn’t know it was possible for ‘Great Russia’ to get cold” The Pole chuckled as he was handed his vodka.

“Yes, unfortunately, I am a person. Kind of.” They sat in silence before Feliks spoke up.

“Wanna get piss drunk?”

“When can I say no?” He took a big gulp before coughing. “Oh Jesus! Russian stuff is worse”

Ivan laughed “They taste the same!”

“Well, it is worse objectively but I can deal with it. I am not a weak little girl” They both preceded to chug their bottles.“Is it hot in here? I feel like it is hot in here” Ivan started taking off his sweaters

“Y-Your fucking right man” He hiccup “It’s like f-fucking satan’s asshole. Also, you got a second bottle right?” He also decided to take off some layers… because of course.

The Russian, who was now shirtless, pulled out more bottles from his bag “I don’t know who you think I am, of course I did!”

After hours of drinking and multiple articles of clothing strewn about the room, they both were giggling and absolutely out of their mind. Ivan had not bought two bottles, but six.

“I-Ivan listen to me” He held the taller man by the shoulders “Wh-why aren’t we fri-friends?”

“Because the government is trying to control our minds clearly. I sa-saw it in a newspaper”

Feliks gasped “D-DUDE THAT MAKES SOOOO MUCH SENSE”

“But-but also because I am an asshole!”

“I-IVAN WHY IS EVERYTHING YOU SAY RIGHT?!”

“RIGHT!”

“But listen tooo this…”

“Y-Yes what?”

The pole didn’t finish his thought as he just collapsed on the bed.

“You-Your fucking right man.” The other followed suit.

“WAIT NOO IVAN WE CAN’T SLEEP YET!!” He sat up straight up. Startled, Ivan also did so.

“wh-WHAT IS IT”

“DUDE WE DIDN’T PRAY YET!”

“WH-what? Do-do you just do that every night?”

“Yes-yes of course! Don’t you?”

“No?”

Feliks dragged his drunk body over to the window and started praying, with Ivan still very confused but following what he was doing.

They stayed silent for longer for a whole lot longer than the Russian was used to. After about seven minutes he whispered to the other

“Ar-are we done yet?”

“Ye-yes I just wanted to see how respectful you would be” He giggled

“Oh thank god, I want to sle-sleep”

“Me-me too”

They both had a good night’s sleep but both woke up with a horrible hangover and also confused as to why they both were shirtless. Feliks continued to Moscow and Ivan was called to St. Petersburg for business. They both pretended that they didn’t remember that night, but they both knew of it fondly.

It is a true shame that history would tear the two apart once more.

#ruspol #aph russia #hws russia #aph poland #hws poland #hetalia

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inkstaineddove · 4 years

Text

A Lovelit Sky

Ships: PruHun

Characters: Prussia, Hungary; mentioned Austria

Summary: Grappling with the recent death of his beloved Old Fritz, Prussia finds himself running away from his emotions in Vienna. He winds up before Hungary, all his emotions pouring lose in his vulnerability.

Vienna, 1786.

Prussia had never been more alone. It had been two months since his beloved king had died, two months since he had to watch Frederick be laid to rest, two months of nonstop aching. He'd become zombie-like, moving through each day in a haze. In Berlin he found himself completely alone. All of Frederick's closest friends died before him and his family hadn't been sorry to see him go, leaving Gilbert to mourn by himself. He tried burying himself in his work to take his mind off things or traveling throughout Brandenburg to escape his ghost, but it was impossible. There were remnants of Frederick everywhere in the kingdom. Home was no longer safe.

His quest to escape had led him south into Austria. By the time he was in Vienna, he had begun feeling a bit better. There were no painful memories here, no past to torment him as he tried to forget. His feet carried him to Roderich's house, his body operating on autopilot. He only fully grasped where he was once he was standing below Roderich's bedroom window. Gilbert looked around, silently cursing himself. The place was so big, he could probably break in to rest for the night without being noticed. But what was the point if he didn't see...? His heart lurched. He needed company.

Gilbert began throwing pebbles against the window, praying to Fritz that the right person would notice. A flash of brown hair. His breathing caught in his throat. He stood frozen, waiting to be discovered. Even if he wanted to flee, his feet found themselves cemented to the grass.

Erzsébet appeared before him in a sheer nightgown. His heart jumped to his feet and he stared like an idiot. "Gilbert, what are you doing here? It's the middle of the night." She examined him closely. His eyes were far away, his hair and clothes disheveled, and there was a slight tremor to him. "Are you okay?"

He tried to communicate but found it difficult to speak without breaking down right there. He weakly shook his head. "Come on, there's a bench back here we can sit on." She took his hand and led him deep into the garden. "Did you walk the whole way here? Does anyone know where you are?" His silence was telling. Erzsébet closed her eyes and shook her head. She was in for a long night.

Eventually, Gilbert regained his power of speech. "Aren't you cold?" If he focused on her, he wouldn't have to deal with his own pain. If he could take care of her then maybe he would begin to feel like a man again instead of an empty husk.

"You shouldn't be worrying about me." Her voice was stern where it normally would've been tender. "Don't deflect, you look awful. What happened to you?"

He began fidgeting his hands, staring at them intently. "The old man died. No one seems to care but me. There was a small formal mourning period, but then it was back to work like nothing happened." He sneered at the ground, the memory leaving a bitter taste within him. "The greatest man I've ever known, who I loved like a father, dies and they expect me to embrace my new king? To pretend like everything's wonderful and nothing dear to me was lost? It's disgusting, it's treacherous."

Hungary tried to be understanding but couldn't wrap her mind around being this upset over a human. They died, it's what they did. Why would that be so shocking this time? "Did you really expect him to live forever? You had to know this was coming, I can't imagine how old he was." She saw his grimace and quickly attempted a change of strategy. "Regardless, I am sorry for your loss. I suppose even knowing what's inevitable doesn't make it easier when you truly care for them." While she hadn't experienced such a loss, she remembered how hard Roderich was hit by the death of Maria-Theresa. It was the only frame of reference she had.

Prussia sniffed, offended. "Of course I knew this would happen. How stupid do you think I am? It wasn't something I ever tried to prepare for since it was something I tried to never think about." He looked up at the stars and frowned. "I only realized how alone I'd been till I was with him. Now that he's gone, the loneliness hurts even worse. I have no one back in Berlin who cares for me." He rolled his eyes. "Well, they care for Prussia, but they could give a damn about Gilbert."

She took his hand and squeezed it gently. "I think you're being a bit melodramatic. I'm sure there's plenty of people back home wondering where you ran off to. I'd be surprised if Brandenburg wasn't worried."

"Brandenburg keeps to himself. He cares for me as long as it means I'm doing all the work and he can do whatever he wants in his castle." He shook his head. "My generals only like me when I'm holding a weapon. My ministers tolerate me at best. Most of the royal family views me more as the immortal family pet, which isn't exactly said with any warmth."

Silence settled between them, only the calls of owls filled the air. Erzsébet felt a pain for Gilbert. She could understand the sense of isolation such an existence would bring. There certainly were parallels with her current home life, but at least she had people outside she could talk to. She often traveled to Warsaw to catch up with Feliks or to feel that her company was appreciated by someone. She faintly remembered Gilbert being close to Francis but couldn't imagine that friendship being very secure after the most recent wars.

He sensed her pity and tried to compensate for it. "I write letters to Ivan and still keep up a correspondence with Antonio. I've got some friends, even if I'm going years between seeing them. Please don't worry about me." He faked a smile that convinced neither of them. Giving up, he sighed and kissed the top of her head. "I've got you. I've always had you, Erzsi." It was the first sign of genuine happiness she'd seen in him the whole night.

He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Their eyes met and a warmth spread throughout his body. It all made sense now. They'd been by each other's side for centuries, through immense highs and lows. Whenever he felt too weak to continue, he'd always found his way to her and she would always revive his spirits. There was no one else he was able to trust with the most intimate parts of himself. He'd never been able to confide in Ivan and Antonio - and certainly not that bastard France - like he was able with her. Being with Erzsébet was so freeing, it was intoxicating. It had always been the one thing he'd wanted more than anything else in this world, and the one thing he could never quite achieve for himself. His recent loss was making him vulnerable and he couldn't stop himself. "I love you, Erzsi." Gilbert cursed himself, wanted to take it back and couldn't. "I've loved you for so long." He bit his tongue, trying to prevent himself from repeating the words like a lunatic.

Erzsébet's body tensed up. She averted her eyes from his, focusing on the bush in front of them. What he was saying didn't surprise her, but it was the last thing she wanted to hear. If he admitted his feelings, that changed things for them. They had been having an affair for some time now, but it had remained purely physical with no deeper emotions. At least, she deluded herself that that's all it was. She'd known when she proposed the damn thing to him that he'd been enamored with her since they were children and, while she had a childhood crush on him as well, she pretended that she'd outgrown it. She refused to acknowledge that she imagined Gilbert falling asleep besides her at night, that she replaced Roderich with Gilbert when they had sex (it certainly wasn't making love!), that she didn't feel a magnetism around Gilbert when they were in a room together. Erzsébet was married, she couldn't allow herself to feel love for another man. It would make everything even more complicated.

So Erzsébet sat there, stiller than a statue, all this running through her mind while Gilbert poured his heart out to her like a lovesick moron. She bit her thumb, hoping the pain would force her to focus on anything else. She should've stayed in bed. If she'd ignored him, Gilbert would've been forced to leave eventually. None of this would've happened, they could've gone on as they always did. Eventually, he stopped talking. Erzsébet allowed herself to look at him again once he was silent. He was staring at her expectantly. She supposed she did have to speak to him. "What do you want me to say?"

"What do you think I want you to say?" She winced. His exasperation made sense. "I definitely don't want you to ask a stupid question like that!"

"Love is complicated." She felt his expectations boring down on her. Erzsébet sighed. "I think you're exhausted. How can you be so sure of yourself without being rested?"

"If you don't love me, say so. I'll be able to handle it." They both knew that was a lie. In his current state, he wouldn't be able to handle much more emotional upset.

"I'm married. I love my husband." Another lie. The expression on his face called her out. "Alright, I don't love Roderich. What good does me openly loving you do? It won't bring any of us closure. It's a pointless thing to say when loving you brings no joy." She paused, realizing she might have revealed too much. "Hypothetically loving you."

He caressed her cheek with his hand, smiling when she subconsciously leaned into his touch. "Because if we can't be together always, we can enjoy what time we do have together more. And then, no matter what, I know you’ll always have me in your heart and I’ll always have you in mine. Nothing could ever take that away from us." He kissed her forehead. "All I need is to know that, no matter how things may have to be, you'll always be mine, you'll always be the one I can turn to."

She closed her eyes, wrestling with her emotions in her mind. How lovely it all sounded, how easily she could picture it. It would be so easy, to slip into these fantasies and never come out. But reality nagged at her. In the real world, in the space she currently occupied, any happiness was fleeting. Any happiness was liable to be taken away from her. "He'll find out. What we're doing now upsets him enough, but he sees no reason to try and destroy it because there's no romance. I'm afraid that even if I whisper my feelings to you, the wind will pick them up and carry them to his ear." She shivered, the very thought chilling her to her bones. "Things are difficult for me, Gilbert. They're difficult in ways you can't quite understand. I can't be so free in my words."

"Then say so with your actions." He kissed her, his movements filled with desperation and longing. He wanted her, needed her, to confirm his feelings. To know he wasn't alone in his adoration. Despite her silent protestations, she returned his affection. Her heart cried out to her to say it, say it, say it. She wanted him to understand the conflicting nature of her desires and responsibilities. They parted and her eyes were filled with such ardor that it took his breath away. "I love you, Erzsi. You're my one constant. I would do anything for you, set the world on fire if you desired it. Anything you ask-"

She put a finger to his lips, shushing him. She quivered in anticipation. "What I want is for you to kiss me like that again and don't ever stop."

He complied. That night, they slept underneath the stars and within each other’s arms. It was the best rest Gilbert had gotten in months.

#aph prussia #hws prussia #aph hungary #hws hungary #pruhun #aph pruhun #hws pruhun #hetalia fanfiction #historical hetalia #hetalia fanfic

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romaniassexdungeon · 5 years

Text

Effervescent

Chapter 1: Hit the Sack

Pairing: DenEst/OzEst (side NedVia)

Warnings: lemon, terrible comedy

Summary: Eduard's furious when he finds his friend has written his phone number on a bathroom wall. He's also horny enough to give it a try, but when things get serious, he's found he might've lead two different guys on.

Notes: Co-written with @tikola-nesla First of all, we're so sorry for this terrible piece of shit. But also not because this was hilarious to write. This story follows Ed and his pathetic love life.

...

Jānis - Latvia Tomas - Lithuania Adriaan - Netherlands Gunner - Denmark Logan - Australia

Read on AO3

...

Eduard was livid. He was going to kill Jānis for this!

For once, his weak little arms didn’t struggle against the stupidly heavy door to the men’s bathroom, and he burst inside in a flurry of fury. He practically punched open the door to the furthest stall, where his number had been written under ‘call for a good time’. His hand shook with rage as he took out a marker and crossed out the word ‘call’.

Next to it, he wrote ‘text’.

He knew he should cross out his number instead, but to be fair, he was going through a dry spell. A dry spell that had lasted the five years since graduating university. He’d take whatever sleezeball creeps responded to these kinds of messages at this point. Honestly, it beat genuinely wondering if he should count that tapeworm as the last time someone had been inside him, or wearing turtlenecks that were a little too small to get the feeling of being choked.

And it wasn’t like this was some shady nightclub, it was the Kiek in de Kök Fortification Museum. Who would look for hookups in the bathroom of a fortification museum? Someone super weird, probably. Or an old guy. Maybe a sugar daddy to pay off his student loans. Or a mysterious, rich tourist from a far off land, and they’d have a fling before parting ways forever.

Or, he’d end up talking to someone, getting along, then sending a picture of his face and not getting a reply. Or not even waiting for that and getting bored of his messages. He wasn’t good with people.

Still, with that little incident taken care of, he marched back outside to join his friends. Maybe they could have a normal day out now without being reminded of how sad and lonely his life was?

“I was just trying to help,” Jānis mumbled into his jumper when Eduard joined them.

“You have a really weird definition of ‘help’,” Eduard commented.

“We just want the best for you,” said Tomas, trying to play the peacemaker like he wasn’t equally as horrified at Jānis’ barefaced cheek and terrible attempt at helping his friend get laid. There was no helping Eduard and everyone knew it.

“You mean like how you went with me to the hospital to get that tapeworm removed? Oh wait!”

“We have our limits.”

“Yeah,” said Jānis, “and didn’t your cousin go with you instead?”

“Yes! And he livetweeted the entire thing! Now I’m known as that loser who was so lonely and depressed he ate raw herring until he got a tapeworm.”

“It’s not like we fed you the herring ourselves,” Jānis wrinkled his nose, “don’t blame us for your life being a mess.”

Before Eduard could even think of a reply, Tomas stepped between them again. “That’s all well and good,” he began like he’d stopped listening since he last spoke, “but I think we’ve left Feliks on his own for long enough, so we should go find him. Also I came here to look at a big fort, not talk about how lonely Eduard is. We do that enough.”

...

And in the hour or so it took the four of them to look around Kiek in de Kök, Eduard received two messages, both of which were dick pics.

“Let me see!” cried Jānis, craning his neck. Eduard pushed him away and held his phone out of reach. It wasn’t hard.

“If you wanted to see dicks, you shouldn’t have been born a manlet.”

“I’m dick-height sometimes actually. You’ve seen my boyfriend.”

Eduard nodded; he totally wasn’t jealous. “The skyscraper?” His boyfriend was so tall, and toned and handsome. He seemed like a complete dick, though, to everyone except Jānis. Eduard had met Adriaan a few times, and even just thinking about the guy made him softer than a saveloy. But around Jānis, he was gentle and caring, writing him poetry and sending him flowers from his own garden.

“Yup, and, oh, I love going up that elevator.”

“Slut.” Eduard got to looking at his dick pic collection. They were both very nice. Bigger than his, of course, but he was a bottom so he didn’t mind so much.

“Nice,” said Feliks, peeking over his shoulder, “what’re you gonna reply with?”

“Honestly? No idea.”

“Hmm, they’re not that big,” said Tomas, and everyone looked at him in bewilderment. “What? Can’t be more than, like… ten inches.”

Jānis looked at him. “If I wasn’t in a relationship, and we weren’t distantly related, I would be on that dick like-”

“Please,” Tomas begged, “don’t finish that sentence.”

“-like dust on Ed’s condom box.”

“Hey!” Why did everything always come back to roasting him?

“You can’t see the logo on it anymore. It’s like an old relic.”

“Like one of those nerdy boxes Tomas buys at the medieval fair,” said Feliks, “the old-worldy handmade ones.”

“You like medieval fairs too,” Tomas mumbled.

“I never spent €50 on an empty wooden box.”

“It had a nice pattern!”

“What do you even keep in it?”

“A second, smaller box.”

“And in that?”

“My copy of Space Jam.”

“You have shelves!”

“Well, I had to keep something in there!”

No one noticed Jānis reaching for Eduard’s phone until it was too late and he’d snatched it away. He typed as he dodged Eduard’s attempts to get it back, and it wasn’t until he’d copied and pasted a paragraph into both DMs that Eduard could finally see what he’d wrote:

I want you to take that dick and fuck me until I can’t walk and have to wheelchair myself through Old Tallinn to the nearest hospital and my bussy looks like the Ülemiste Tunnel. Nut in every hole then my face until I’m numb physically instead of emotionally.

“What the fuck, Jānis?”

Tomas craned his neck over Eduard’s shoulder. “You’ve gotta admit he’s got game. Just... Not sure what game he's playing.”

“I want to die.”

“You always want to die,” said Feliks.

Jānis shrugged. “Confidence is key.”

“Is this how you bagged the skyscraper?”

“God no. That would be terrible. I talked to him like a person.”

Eduard gave him a withering look, then frantically texted the first guy back.

I’m so sorry, my friend sent that.

“Dude,” Feliks told him, reading over his shoulder, “You couldn’t have sounded more like you were lying if you tried.”

“It’s the truth!”

“So?”

Eduard groaned.

He’d already texted back.

So you don’t wanna get Ülemisted?

Eduard did, he supposed. But it was way too embarrassing to admit that.

Feliks took his phone. “Maybe I do.”

“Hey!” He tried to snatch his phone back, and Feliks elbowed him.

What’s your name?

Gunner, and u?

Eduard.

Well, Eduard, what would you, not your friend, like me to do to you?

Eduard stared at his phone. He had no idea how to put the thoughts in his head into words, and even if he did, he’d be too scared to say anything.

But he had to try.

One sex please?

He fucking hated himself.

Haha I can arrange that.

Eduard didn’t trust people who spelt out their laughs in texts. It was a little menacing. Keysmash like the rest of us, asshole. At least it meant he was a top, he supposed.

You can arrange my insides.

It was an attempt at a flirt, albeit a horrible one.

“Isn’t it “rearrange”,” said Feliks.

“Well, if it’s “rearrange”, who arranged them the first time?”

“Fucking virgin.”

“I’m not! I’ve done many sex! I did one yesterday!”

“When?” asked Tomas, “we were playing Dungeons and Dragons all day.”

“Your dad was sucking me off under the table.”

“He died six years ago; you went to his funeral.”

“Yeah. I dicked him to death.”

Tomas squinted at him.

“Too far?”

“I just can’t take any claim of you topping seriously.”

“I can top!”

“You can top a cake, maybe,” said Jānis, “if you baked cakes instead of depression bread.”

“I don’t always bake depression bread!”

“You’re depressed therefore every bread you bake is depression bread.”

“I like kneading!”

“Why don’t you knead a pair of titties for once, Eduard?”

“Gonna knead your mum’s titties if you keep talking shit.”

Tomas swatted at him. “She’s dead too!”

“And?”

“How do you have friends?” asked Feliks.

“I don’t, really,” admitted Eduard, “you guys were a miracle.”

“I don’t know if I should be flattered you consider me a miracle,” Tomas told him, “Or offended you don’t consider me a friend.”

“I do. Miracle friends. Miracles are friendships and times I need to use a condom.”

“Maybe you can use some now,” said Jānis.

“Jānis! We’re outside!”

“You know what I mean.”

“Impromptu water balloons?”

“Ed doesn’t, cause he’s a loser,” said Feliks. “Anyway, any replies yet?”

Eduard checked his phone. The second guy had replied.

Fuk u for making me read all that.

Then a second later.

Still down 2 smsah tho.

That message doesn’t represent me. That was my friend.

Haha i beleev u!

If the guy’s dick wasn’t so big, Eduard would’ve blocked him for his atrocious spelling.

Tomas looked over his shoulder. “How did he manage to spell your phone number?”

“I’m sure he has a good personality.”

I wanna put my cids in your shitter and bread you like a whorse.

“Or… Not, but his dick is massive.”

“Ed, please be sensible.”

“No! I want dick!”

“He’s illiterate!”

“I’m getting my hole ruined by him, not giving him a spelling test.”

Tomas looked like he’d very much like to go home. Eduard wanted to go home too, but only so he could slap his nuts thinking about those massive dicks.

“Anyway, I got work to catch up on.” He gave a cough; “see you guys later.”

“You have an erection,” Jānis pointed out, tactful as ever.

“Nah, it’s just late. Time to hit the sack.” And then go to sleep.

“Which one?”

“Bye, guys!”

“Which sack, Eduard?”

Eduard dashed off before they could ask him again.

#aph estonia #APH Denmark #APH Australia #aph baltics #aph lithunia #aph latvia #aph poland #hetalia #Hetalia Fanfiction #effervescent

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literallyusuk · 5 years

Text

Purrfect Christmas (USUK)

Summary: Cats for Christmas! Domestic AU.

Notes: Hey hey @midnightleone I was sorry to hear that your original Secret Santa fell through but I gotchu! I whipped up a little somethin’ somethin’ for you based off of your ‘Getting/giving a pet for Christmas’ prompt! I really hope you enjoy it!

For the 2018 @usuknetwork Secret Santa! I didn’t actually partake myself since I forgot to sign up in time lmao but I’m glad I was able to do something for it anyway! Hope y’all enjoy!

Also on AO3 though no links since Tumblr’s a butt about it. Link to my AO3 is on the side though!!

Warnings: Lil bit of language.

“How was he for you?” Arthur asked, reaching down to stroke the fat cat in his arms.

“He definitely lives up to his name. He’s such a ham,” Gilbert replied, snickering.

“Excuse you, his name is Hamlet.”

The German man waved a hand dismissively. “Hamlet, Ham, either works. He eats like a pig and wails like the world is ending if you’re even five minutes late feeding him.” He reached over and scratched behind Hamlet’s ears. “He’s cute though. Alfred’s gonna love him.”

The cat, a big Maine Coon, stretched out into both of their touches. He was a beautiful cream colour with rich brown accents around his feet, neck, face, and the tip of his tail. His purring rumbled throughout his whole body, and his blue eyes were half-closed in contentment. He was big enough that he spilled out over Arthur’s lap and onto the couch, and if he stretched up on his back paws, he had enough height to reach onto the kitchen countertops if he so chose.

“Thank you for agreeing to look after him for these few days. A year ago I might have been able to keep him hidden myself, but since we moved in together, there was no hope.” Arthur smiled down when Hamlet turned his face into his hand, licking at his fingertips.

Gilbert smirked then.

“What?”

“No, nothing. It’s been, uh, fun. Yeah. Might get a cat too or something after this.”

Arthur’s eyes narrowed, but Gilbert refused to say anything else. After draining his teacup, he scooped the big cat up and into the cat carrier at his feet and, after a final farewell to Gilbert, headed home with his present.

The evening was cold and brisk, the stars glittering overhead from a clear sky. Arthur’s breath puffed out in front of him as he strode down the sidewalk, and he burrowed his nose into his scarf and coat collar. He only hoped that this evening would go well; he didn’t want to keep Hamlet stuck inside of a box for too long, so timing would be everything. Alfred’s oblivious tendencies would work in his favour, for once.

Despite it being around seven on Christmas Eve, there was still a good amount of people in the streets, and Arthur often had to sidestep around someone or pause to keep the cat crate from bumping into someone’s body or bags. The walk from Gilbert’s apartment building to his and Alfred’s was only ten minutes, but crossed a few busier intersections.

“Just a little longer, boy,” Arthur murmured as he waited at one of the crosswalks. He tilted the cat carrier to be able to peer into it, and was met by Hamlet’s inquisitive stare. The cat didn’t seem stressed at all, just interested in his surroundings.

Arthur smiled to himself. He and Alfred had been talking about adopting a cat for a few months now, but their planning hadn’t gotten much farther than agreeing they both wanted one from a shelter and at some point in the future. Though he would have liked to go with Alfred to pick one out, Arthur also figured that giving Alfred a cat as one of his Christmas presents would also be really romantic. They could always go together in the future if they ever wanted another cat.

The light changed and Arthur stepped out quickly to avoid being jostled. Five minutes later, he sighed as he moved out of the cold into his lobby. His fingers and toes had regained feeling by the time the elevator stopped at his floor, and his heart rate sped up a bit as he approached the door.

He set the carrier down when he unlocked it and swung it open a crack. “Alfred?” he called.

The lights were off in the apartment.

There was no answer.

Arthur let out a quiet breath and smiled down at Hamlet again. “Good thing his work friends celebrate Christmas Eve and invited him over, huh?” he asked as he carried the cat inside and locked the door behind him. Bless Toris and Feliks, honestly.

He didn’t bother taking his shoes or coat off yet and took Hamlet into the guest bedroom. The closet there was small but stuffed full of mostly Arthur’s things, so Alfred wasn’t likely to go looking in there. He’d set up a litter box on the floor earlier, as well as putting down a cat bed, a bowl of water, and two toys.

“You’ll have to stay here for a little while, until after we eat dinner,” he told Hamlet as he picked the cat up out of the carrier and into his arms.

Hamlet mrrowed and butted his nose against Arthur’s chin before looking around the room.

Arthur smiled as he kissed the top of the cat’s head. “You can look around properly later, hmm? Once Alfred’s seen you. I’ll get you some food and you just need to be a little patient, darling.”

He placed the cat down into the closet and turned the light on. Hamlet immediately started batting at one of the mouse toys and sniffing around it and the bed. The Brit smiled as he shut the door, leaving the light on inside so Hamlet would be able to see while he waited.

A quick trip to the kitchen later and Arthur was back with a bowl of mixed wet and dry food that he’d hidden at the back of the cleaning supplies cupboard for the past few days. He stayed long enough to make sure that Hamlet had started to eat, then closed the door again and started on the rest of the preparations.

The prepared present box for Hamlet was stuffed under their bed. It was a pre-wrapped box with a top that could easily be removed and air holes already punched into it. The wrapping paper on the outside was busy enough that the holes were unnoticeable. Arthur had another cat bed on the bottom of the box, as well as another toy to keep Hamlet entertained for the hopefully short duration he’d be inside of it. He carried it to the guest bedroom for later on, then started on preparing a light dinner for the two of them.

There would be a proper turkey tomorrow at Alfred’s parents’ house, so for the evening the Brit settled on a simpler pan-seared steak and mash with roasted Brussels sprouts. He’d been practicing with Francis’s help, and at their latest cooking session, his French friend had been impressed at the results. Alfred could down anything remotely edible, he knew, but he still hoped his fiancé would enjoy it.

He had just finished plating everything when he heard the lock click and the front door open again.

“I’m home!” Alfred called, sounding a little bit hoarse.

Alarmed, Arthur poked his head out of the doorway to see Alfred somewhat struggling with a large wrapped box in his arms. “Oh dear, do you need help?” he asked, stepping forward.

“No!” Alfred yelped, his arms tightening around the box a little bit as he nudged the door closed with his foot. “Could you lock the door though?”

“Sure.”

Alfred edged around him and hurried into the living room to put the box under their small tree. By then Arthur had locked the door and turned around, only to be swept up into strong arms.

He laughed as Alfred spun him around. The laughter quickly turned into a squeal when Alfred pressed his still-cold cheek against his own, but he kissed his fiancé anyway. “How was the party?”

“Pretty chill. Tor and Fel opted for a smaller gathering this year, so it was only their closest friends. They were pretty bummed you couldn’t make it- Fel still insists you’re some sort of cryptid, but I promised to try and get you out next year.”

Arthur snorted. “We could have lunch with them sometime before then, too.”

“Yeah?” Alfred grinned brightly and kissed him again. “I’ll call Toris in a few days or something.”

“Sounds a plan. Now come on, food’s just ready.” Arthur tangled their fingers together as he tugged him off to the kitchen.

“And presents after?” Alfred followed him eagerly, sniffing at the air with appreciation. “Smells good, Art.”

“One present each today, like we agreed.” Though he shivered when he felt Alfred’s lips on the back of his neck, Arthur rolled his eyes and didn’t turn around to see the puppy eyes that were surely on display. “The rest tomorrow.”

“Okay, okay,” Alfred said with a defeated chuckle and nuzzled to him for a moment before looking over the plates. “Holy shit, you made all this yourself? It looks restaurant quality, babe.”

Arthur flushed happily at the praise. “Thank you, love. I hope it tastes okay as well.”

“I’m sure it will. You’re getting real good at cooking now. No more breaking the oven like freshman year of uni, huh?”

“I’ll have you know that was an accident.”

“Still on that train, huh?” Alfred teased as he moved the plates to the eating nook.

“Of course.” Arthur sniffed haughtily, but smiled as he slid in across from Alfred. He set a bottle of sparkling water and two glasses onto the table as well.

Dinner passed with Alfred telling stories from Christmas Eve at Toris and Feliks’s, as well as a drawn-out game of footsie under the table. Even after their plates were empty they sat at the table, nursing their glasses and laughing together.

Eventually, Arthur jolted. He reached out across the table and tapped Alfred’s hand, drawing the other man’s attention. “I think you’ve been patient enough. Present time?” He also didn’t want Hamlet to be alone in the closet for too long.

Alfred beamed at him. “Hell yeah!”

“Alright. I’ll go get yours real quick?”

“Oooh, mysterious.”

“Very,” Arthur said with a snort.

“I’ll clean up while you do, then! Wait for me in the living room when you’re ready?”

“Alright.” After a quick kiss, Arthur slid out of his seat and hurried down the hall to the guest room.

Luckily, he didn’t have to worry about Hamlet. The big cat was sprawled out over the pet bed, asleep with the toy mouse between his outstretched paws. He opened his eyes when the closet door opened and purred at the sight of Arthur crouching over him.

“Hello, big boy,” Arthur whispered, happy to stroke behind Hamlet’s ears. “Your big moment is coming soon. If you’re good, I’ll sneak you a few extra treats before bed tonight.”

Hamlet’s purring only increased in volume.

“Alright, come on, up you come.” Arthur grunted a little bit as he lifted the Maine Coon up and into his arms.

It was a slight struggle to manoeuvre the box from under the bed with roughly twenty pounds of limp cat in his arms, but after a few minutes Arthur managed to shove Hamlet inside. Ruffled but unbothered, Hamlet peered up at him with wide blue eyes before the Brit secured the top into place.

“You’ll be in there for just a few minutes, I promise,” Arthur told him.

Alfred was still washing up when Arthur made it into the living room, so Arthur settled on the couch with Hamlet’s box in his lap instead of under the tree while he waited. The American walked into the living room a few minutes later, lighting up at the sight of the big box.

“Oh man. So we’re both getting pretty sweet presents, huh?”

A self-satisfied smile stretched over Arthur’s lips. “Oh, definitely.” He knew Alfred would absolutely love the Maine Coon. “Would you like yours first since I’ve got it here already?”

“Sure.”Alfred was practically vibrating with excitement as he took a seat next to Arthur.

“Don’t shake it around, though. It’s delicate,” Arthur said as he handed the box over. His heart took off at a gallop as he watched Alfred examine it.

“Huh.” Alfred hefted it up a few times. “It’s lighter than it looks,” he mused, then froze when he heard a noise from inside. “Is that?” He whipped the lid off.

Hamlet meowed again and poked his head up, his front paws supporting his body against the edge of the box. He was still a bit ruffled as he looked around, and he started purring as his eyes landed on first Arthur, then Alfred right in front of him.

“Oh my God.” Alfred held out a hand for the cat to sniff, and he smiled when he felt the rough tongue against his fingers. “Oh my God. Oh my God, Arthur.” He suddenly whipped his head around to stare at Arthur.

“Wh-What?” Arthur bit his lip. “Do you like him?”

And Alfred burst out laughing.

Arthur stared at him in confusion. “What…?”

“No- No oh my God, Arthur, hang on.” Setting the box with Hamlet in it aside, Alfred rushed across the room to pick up the present he’d gotten for Arthur. He pushed it into Arthur’s hands, still chuckling. “Just open it.”

Arthur’s brows were still furrowed as he hesitantly lifted the top of that box off, and he nearly dropped it when he saw what was inside.

A small white and cream cat with green eyes and folded down ears stared up at him.

Unlike Hamlet, this cat was curled up on the bottom of its box, evidently more nervous than the other feline still peering around.

“Oh my God,” Arthur whispered.

Alfred laughed again, and this time, Arthur joined in. They fell against each other helplessly, because of course they would both get each other a cat for Christmas.

The cat in Arthur’s lap let out a mewl when its box was jostled, and Hamlet’s ears immediately pricked up. He jumped out of his box and peered into the other one, purring happily and forcing his way inside to curl up around and practically on top of the smaller cat.

“I guess…they’re friends?” Alfred managed to say, wiping a few tears from the corners of his eyes.

“I suppose so,” Arthur murmured, and smiled as he pressed a few kisses to Alfred’s cheek. “You silly thing.”

“Hey, you’re just as silly!”

“This just means we’re perfect for each other, hmm?”

“Aww! Arthur, that’s so sappy! I fucking love you, babe,” Alfred said as he wrapped an arm around Arthur’s shoulders.

“I love you too, Al,” Arthur whispered back. After a moment, while Alfred was still cooing and laughing over the cats, he pulled out his phone and snapped a picture of the two of them in the one box. He sent it to Gilbert.

Arthur: Alfred got me a cat too? (9:48)

It was only a few seconds before Gilbert replied.

Gilbert: i know (9:48)

Gilbert: [IMG attached]

A selfie of Gilbert on his couch, with Hamlet and the small cat curled up together on his lap.

Gilbert: you’re both fucking nerds (9:49)

Gilbert: merry Christmas (9:49)

“What’s so funny?” Alfred asked, looking over when he felt Arthur laughing against him.

Arthur showed him the phone screen.

“What? You asked Gilbert to hold onto yours too?” They dissolved into laughter again. “I guess that explains why they get along so well…”

“Indeed. The big boy is Hamlet, by the way.”

Alfred lifted him from the box, grunting from the effort. “No kidding. He’s such a ham.”

“He was named after Shakespeare, you dolt,” Arthur said, rolling his eyes.

“Yeah, and Ham can be his nickname. Shakespeare reference for you, food reference for me.” Alfred grinned as he swung the cat above his head. Hamlet looked completely unbothered. “Who’s a hammy boy? Who’s a good hammy boy?” he cooed.

“Both of you.”

“Arthur!” Alfred lowered Hamlet to face level and turned him around so both he and Alfred stared at Arthur with near-identical blue eyes. “You wound us!”

“I’m sure you’ll both get over it,” Arthur said sweetly. “What’s this one’s name?” he asked, reaching in to offer his hand to the other cat. It had curled down in the box again now that it was alone. Arthur pulled it out to set it onto his lap instead, and set the box on the floor.

“He’s called Dover. No real reason for it, that’s the name he came with at the shelter. I didn’t see the need to change it.” Alfred let Hamlet down completely so the bigger cat could nuzzle to Dover’s face.

“Dover…” Arthur smiled as he lightly ran a hand down Dover’s back. “I like it. Hamlet and Dover. Thank you, Alfred. This has already turned into a perfect holiday.”

“I think you mean purrfect.”

“You nerd.”

“In all seriousness though, thank you too.” Alfred leaned over to wrap Arthur into as much of a side hug as he was able to. “We are both silly, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. I love you, Arthur. Merry Christmas.”

Arthur gripped him back tightly. “I love you too, my dearest,” he whispered into Alfred’s shoulder.

They lost track of time simply curled up on the couch together, the two cats purring away on their laps.

#hetalia #usuk #aph america #aph england #usuknetwork #aph prussia too #oneshots

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casikss · 5 years

Text

Title: Let it out Pairing: PrusPol Fandom: Historical Hetalia

Summary:

Prussia and Poland have had a harsh history. Betrayal has torn them apart, and wars have left a scar that is too big to heal. The Second World War was probably the worst of it all, as it brought out the worst in Prussia, and Poland had the misfortune to see it. All of that has changed now, Prussia is a better man after the Soviet Union collapsed. Poland still has nightmares though... Luckily he has Prussia to comfort him and, little by little, try and fix their past so they can move forward.

Warning: Small mentions of past abuse during the war, PTSD signs within as well as a lot of fluff towards the end.

Drip.

A soft sound, barely loud enough to even register to ones’ ear, came in a splatter upon enameled cast-iron. No one, especially not the one in the bedroom, would have heard it unless they were within earshot. The liquid from the faucet dripped out every few seconds with a soft “plop”, the sink having not been turned off completely. There was a single lamp that lit the bedroom, dusk having already passed not too long ago and the rest of the house was void of any other light. The only sound in the entire house was the soft hushed whine from the small animal at the foot of the bed, and the tormented breathing from the one curled in the middle of the bed.

How should he stop the howling wolves that trample their feet all around his head? How could he possibly dim the frightening scenes that replay when his eyes are closed?

He sees the house cave in on itself, the room changing and morphing into something else. He suddenly feels cold, so cold. Hard chains snake around his wrists, clamping tight onto the thin limbs as more do the same to his ankles. Lips part to let out more loud sobbing, naked body curled up into the corner of the dark stone room. Goosebumps appeared all across his arms and legs, the cool temperature of the cell caused the bare skin to be extremely cold. His subconscious had somehow trapped him into a cage of his past trauma, and now the Polish man could barely concentrate on his own breathing with how much he was sobbing. Weak fingers trembled, still as violent as they were when all this started, trying to hide himself; arms encasing his head as fingers gripped through his blonde locks, the strands already encrusted with dirt. Nothing was present but a simple table, a rack with multiple punishing implements on it and chains to hold him.

Poland cried. Distressed tears trickle down a face soiled with dolor, flooding his face with painful memories. A soft word, inaudible, whispered in great distress throughout the darkness of the room—the only light being emitted from the hallway under the large door.

“Proszę…..” His voice was harrowing, the weak tone barely coming out in a whisper as the tears fell down the bridge of his nose, dripping down to the area of the floor between his legs. The floor was beyond filthy with the floor covered in dirt, patches of dried blood and even some pools of water in the corners. He was filthy. Poor Feliks could feel the dirt all over his legs, back and parts of his arms and face, barely covering the bruises that caked parts of his body. There were some parts of his skin that had sores and cuts, and the dirt getting into them would definitely cause infection and even more discomfort. He so desperately wanted to clean himself, but there was no way of doing that in his position. Green eyes would snap open once again, his head coming up as he stared at the sealed, and eerily familiar, door in front of him. His eyes were forced to blink, the tears blinding him as he briefly wiped his face on his arm. It helped a little, as he was able to see what was in front of him—his eyes quickly adjusting to the darkness. The door in front him caused him to choke out, his sobs growing harder. He knew exactly what door it was. He knew what room this was. This was the very room that he would be dragged into to be beaten. This was where all his punishments occurred, all his torment from the years of 1939-1945 happened in this very room. He only ever saw this room whenever he would be put through some type of suffering. His panic, if possible, rose to new heights; especially when he heard the intimidatingly harsh voice speak from near the door, footsteps echoing as the door started to open—the light causing the smaller nation to wince and shut his eyes once more. He began to mumble out pleads and apologies, despite knowing the one on the other side of the door was not going to comply with his begging….

“No, no… please—MEISTER, BITTE!”

The Polish nation shot up in his bed, screaming out in pure fear from the night terror he just endured, feeling as if his heart was pounding a mile a minute as his limbs clutched up to his chest. Terrified eyes glanced at the clock, displaying five fifteen in the afternoon. Of course, that was the only thing of his surroundings that he managed to understand as a massive panic attack began to quake throughout his body. Hyperventilation had taken over him, hot breath coming out in agonizing spouts as the cold sweat coated his blonde brow. Golden locks clung to his face whilst green eyes were wide and panicked. His muscles were tremendously weak, palms caked with sweat as his fingers tangled tightly into the blanket that he had wrapped around himself. The tremors that raked through those thin appendages were violent, and he was finding it much harder to control them the more the overwhelming panic set in. Tighter and tighter he tried to pull the cloth, any way to shield himself from—

…what was he hiding from?

The harsh and vivid nightmare seemed to have triggered his already existing PTSD, causing very clear hallucinations that he hadn’t gotten since the end of the war. It was the 90s now, so it was so long ago that he thought this wouldn’t happen anymore—perhaps it wasn’t good to hope. He couldn’t tell what was real or not, and that’s why his panic did not yet cease. It didn’t seem it was going to cease any time soon.

He… he thought he felt the room shake and hear glass shatter, causing his own body to jolt instantly in intense alarm. Hands would desperately grab his knees as fingers would dig into them and pull them hastily to his chest as he fell on his left side, his shaking body pressing hard on the mattress, wailing out in sweeping hysteria. He could have sworn that the loud thunder—no…. it was just a storm. Feliks specifically remembered seeing rain before he fell asleep… it was just a storm… right? His mind was getting the best of him, morphing and creating things that aren’t there. He could smell the smoke, hear the desperate cries as people ran from the impending doom that came for them and suddenly his mind registered BOMBS. He could hear it, he could see it through his tightly shut eyes. Tears cascading down his porcelain cheeks like a long, never ending river. The panic in his chest kept growing and growing, like his entire ribcage was closing in on him from how much he attempted to force oxygen into his lungs from the constant gasping. He shut his eyes again. Oh God…. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t breathe.

Fingers dug harshly in golden locks, pulling hard on the strands as he desperately cried out in an attempt to end this—

Breathe. In and out. In and out. Slow…

please stop, please someone help me

please

PLEASE

It ended……

Silence engulfed the entire room, the trembling nation did not move for the longest time. Silence remained, the clock kept ticking. He was too afraid to open his eyes, his mind telling him that the moment he does he will be back there again and he doesn’t want to go back. So he waited. Feliks had no idea how long he laid there, sheets sticking to his sweat covered body as his fingers slowly loosened their grip on the blanket. Meekly, he opened his eyes to see that….

…. nothing. He was in his bedroom, safe, under the covers.

There were no bombs. There was no fire. Everything was fine, he was fine. The tight feeling in his chest did not diminish, though.

Drip.

Eyes, hurting from crying, blinked slowly as he registered the sound. How long had he been shaking? How long had he been crying? Emerald hues slowly glanced to his left, sclera blood shot from perhaps the harshest panic attack he had ever had to endure. His eyes caught sight of the bathroom door that had been open, mind registering the constant drip of water from the faucet. He didn’t want to get up whatsoever, feeling far too weak to do so. Muscles shifted, a small pained noise coming as he pulled himself up into a sitting position. He weakly pushed himself to where he was sitting on the edge of the bed and it was only then that he realized the soft whimpering, and the feeling of a small tongue licking his bare leg. Looking down, the white Pomeranian was currently licking Feliks’ leg, giving off little whines after he had stopped and looked up at his owner.

“...Żulik? oh, no… żulik, I—” His head turned to the clock, puffy eyes widening when he caught sight of what was on it. 6:35. It was 6 o’clock at night. He had forgotten to feed Żulik.

Well, the time certainly confirmed how long his panic attack had occurred. His fingers trembled as they ran through his hair, pushing it to the left side of his face. Blonde strands were damp from how much he had sweat, shaky breathing coming from him as he slowly forced himself to stand up on his feet. Bare feet touched down on the soft carpet, toes stretching out and curling under as he stood up.

“Tak… Ah—I’m sorry. Come here, chłopak…” The dog let out a simple whine, before yipping and running around in a small circle. He then proceeded to jump up into Feliks’ arms when he opened them for his pet. Carrying the canine whilst lightly petting it, feliks still felt his emotions reach a level of turmoil that he couldn’t control. As he walked out of the room, he suddenly felt the overwhelming nausea come over him. A pale hand shot up and covered his mouth, a soft groan releasing from the back of his throat. The nausea clawed at his throat, and he tried to force down the bile, but it was too late. He couldn’t help dropping Żulik, the dog falling on its feet as feliks ran to the nearest bathroom. Hacking and coughing sounds came from the bathroom after he had lurched forward and sunk to his knees. His stomach kept on contracting violently and forcing everything up and out. His face was white, covered with sweat, and tears. The horrible stench invaded his nostrils and he heaved even though there was nothing left to go. His sobs had started up again as the heaving didn’t seem to end. Fingers dug hard into the sides of the toilet bowl, the top part of his body leaning against it as his strength was slowly failing him, digits trembling as he weakly trying to keep himself in an upright position, but the constant heaving and coughing was eating away at his energy.

He didn’t hear the soft click of the door closing down stairs.

The Prussian lightly gripped the steering wheel with one hand, comfortably leaning back in the car seat as his eyes watched the road in front of him intently. One hand, pale as the snow that travelled down to the ground below outside of his car, reached over to pick up the single bottle of Erdinger Kristall that was placed in the cup holder. This happened to be one of his favorite brands of beer. It had a certain taste to it that others didn’t, and the alcohol was strong which made it even better. He loved it. Gripping the bottle with his left hand, eyes remaining on the road the entire time, he gripped the top of the bottle hard in order to apply just enough pressure… and the top popped off, simple as that. He didn’t care about where the top fell, deciding to worry about it later as the bottle touched his lips. He chugged down several long gulps of the alcohol, letting out a satisfied sigh as the cool liquid traveled down his throat. The feeling and taste were so good, he could feel his taste buds tingling with pleasure. Soon, he came to a halt at a red light, his 1998 Audi A4 black in contrast to the white snow around. Sighing, he placed the bottle back in the cup holder and leaned back in aggravation, hand outstretched towards the front of him toward the red light. “What is this, the fourth one? Fucking bullshit.” He had been unfortunate throughout the day to come across more than one red light and slow cars, causing his anger and annoyance to get the best of him. He even ended up honking his horn at a few cars and even flipped off a person that he had been behind for approximately fifteen minutes that day, completely pissed with how slow they were going. He thanks whatever higher power there is that he didn’t end up being stuck in traffic, he knew he wouldn’t have the patience for it. Honestly, all he wanted to do was get home to be with Feliks so he can—

Ah, speaking of Feliks.

Gilbert had briefly pressed his elbow on the side of the door beside him, fist clenched with his head leaning against it. Once his mind wandered to Feliks, ruby eyes would glance over on the passenger side of the car where there lay a small gift. Inside was something he saw Feliks looking at the last time they had been to the mall, but for some reason decided against buying it. Gilbert wasn’t entirely sure why, since it was obvious Feliks had the money for it—and it was cheap. Still, he was thankful that he didn’t. This meant that Gilbert himself could get it for him, along with a small brown bear with a red ribbon wrapped around its neck. The Pole was going to love it, and the Germanic could already see his little sweetheart’s face light up. Prussia loved pampering him too much, finding any opportunity he can to show affection or give him any sort of gift. As his eyes gazed at the gift, the slight grin that had developed on his face began to disappear slowly as his thoughts wandered. He loved being with Feliks. He was content and beyond happy. The two had bonded so well during Russia’s occupation that they became inseparable at this point. Hell, just this year they decided to go the next step and make their relationship official. They were together as of this year and everything’s been wonderful. Their current relationship feels so right for the both of them, but at times… Gilbert will feel as if he doesn’t deserve him. That sweet melody of his laughter that sounds every time he tells his jokes or whenever he becomes playful with Feliks. ANYTHING for that laughter of his to resonate. He doesn’t deserve to hear it. The gorgeous smile that appears on that captivating face. He doesn’t deserve to see it. The euphoric feeling of that soft skin, the electrifying sensation his nerves get whenever he gets to runs his own hands down that smooth flesh. He doesn’t deserve to touch it. He doesn’t deserve to be touched by him either. He especially does not deserve the feel of those lips touching his own. His mind clouds with negativity, the constant chastisement his internal monologue gives himself will never let him forget. He will never forget what they were, what had happened in their terrible past. He will never forgive himself for what he had done and what he had put him through. His scars run deep, but he knows the scars that Feliks carries are even worse than his own. His physical scars may fade to soft white lines, but the mental damage stays.

Your fault. A voice hisses in his mind, spitting angry venom towards himself. You are the reason he has those scars. Your fault. You’re a vile piece of—

He closed his eyes tightly and his hand gripped harder on the steering wheel. Ja, he thought to himself. This is fucked up. And it is. They shouldn’t be together like this because of their harrowing past, especially after the hell on earth Feliks suffered at the hands of Gilbert himself. No matter how hard he tries, he’ll never be able to shake the irritating feeling in his core that this is wrong and he shouldn’t be with him. Feliks is full of light and he deserves better. Gilbert doesn’t care one bit if Feliks forgives him, he’ll never forgive himself.

A quick image of Feliks’ smiling face flashed through his mind. At that moment, his emotions took a turn.

Despite the feeling of regret and uncertainty for all of this; He’s going to try. He’ll put all the effort he has into this relationship between them. For him. A soft whisper sounded in his head. I’ll do it for him, not for me. Despite all of these thoughts that fill his head, his love for Poland is still stronger and he is prepared to cherish him and always be there for him. He’ll do anything for Feliks—and he’ll only leave him, without a second thought, if it was Feliks that wanted him to. Their bond is binding, as if it were sealed by iron and was completely unbreakable. He’ll stay with him for as long as Feliks wants him to, and he’ll gladly do so because Feliks means the world to him.

A soft scoff came from the back of his throat as his grin returned. He couldn’t wait to see Feliks’ face when he opened his gift, it would be the best thing he would witness—

The car behind him pressed on the horn for a long moment, startling Gilbert out of his thoughts and causing him to curse. “Gah—Scheiße!” His attention was brought back to the street in front of him, the light above him had turned from red to green again. The car again honked its horn. “I’m fucking going, arschloch!” He shouted over his shoulder as he moved his arm up, flipping the bird at the car behind him. He stepped on the gas and almost instantly, the car was moving again. He was glad that that his destination wasn’t far; the house quite literally being only several feet from that one stop light. The car turned one single corner and continued forward for a few feet until it began to slow again, taking a left turn into the driveway. The tires soon came to a halt in front of the house, Gilbert shifting the gears and putting it into park. Afterwards, he took the keys out of the keyhole and pocketed them before reaching his hand over and grasping the present firmly, lifting it from the seat. He quickly put the bear inside as well, not wanting Feliks to see that part of the present until he opened it. Once he opened the door, a sharp gust of wind hit against him with a flurry of snow, causing him to briefly turn his head away from the impact of it; easily stepping out of his car after a moment. His jacket thrashed about in the fierce gale, his hands quickly shifting the fabric of the jacket so that it’s more secure around him as he proceeded to walk towards the house. The weather was extremely cold; however, he wasn’t outside long enough for it to bother him. After closing the trunk of the car and getting the carton of beer and other essentials he had picked up out, he carefully walked up the steps and managed to open the door with the hand that was holding the present. The door opened with a soft click and the Prussian man proceeded inside passed the threshold, breathing out in relief as the door shut behind him. Vermillion hues glanced about the room for a brief moment, shrugging off his coat and placing it on a coat hanger whilst slipping his boots off leisurely. “Feliks?” He called out, walking to the kitchen and placing the carton of beer on the counter as well as another bag that had some groceries in it. He kept hold of Feliks’ present, head glancing around to his left, where an open door was that lead into the living room. “Feliks?” He called a bit louder, but yet there was still no answer. Getting curious, Prussia walked out of the kitchen and into the living room. He passed the room and existed through the door that lead into a longer hallway. As he walked, he realized that Feliks was no where to be found on the bottom floor; all the rooms being vacant. So, he attention turned to the stairs. He ascended up the stairs at a normal pace, but as he got higher, he could make out what sounded like distressed noises. He stopped for a split second, eyebrows furrowing in confusion as he listened hard to those sounds. As he listened, he took a few more steps, already really close to the top of the staircase. It was then he realized what he was hearing was crying.

Gilbert raced up the last couple of steps instantly, running down the hall to where the sounds were coming from. His heart felt tight, agonizing concern shooting through his nerves like a rapid bullet. He came upon the bathroom as quick as lightning. The door was slightly open, but once he had gotten to it, his hand knocked it all the way open hard enough for it to slam harshly against the wall. The scene that his eyes distinguished caused his heart to almost drop to his stomach. Just seeing Feliks hunched over the toilet and sobbing was more than enough for the albino to rush over to him whilst shouting out “FELIKS!” in more fret than he had previously. His first breath is tight, gripping at his chest and aching all the way up to his throat. He was immediately kneeling down, hands clutching at Poland’s shoulders as he tried to control the rising panic that was growing in him, the present discarded. “Bist du in Ordnung?!” He asked with alarm, fingers gently gripping Feliks’ shoulders as the blond pulled himself up, still weeping. Poland coughed and spit out any remaining bile, breathing out heavily as he tried to find strength to respond through his cries; now trying to mask them. “G-Gil..? I… I a-am fine.” The smaller male spoke weakly. In truth, he was not expecting the other to have come this soon. But now was not the time to focus on that as he tried desperately to keep his breathing intact and stop the sobbing, which was slowly starting to diminish. Gilbert frowned and quickly reached over to the towel rack and pulled out a large rag. “Shhh… Hold on, let me get this.” He stood up in a fast pace to place the rag underneath the faucet, turning the handle on quickly as the liquid fell upon the cotton fabric. After this process was done, he returned to his partner and with his free hand, he brought it behind the Polish nation to pull him closer, supporting the nape of his neck and placing the rag on his face. He wiped his mouth of any remaining bile that had been on his face. Gilbert also took care to wipe the sweat from his face. Feliks said nothing during this, although he did enjoy the feeling of the warm rag on his face. “Calm down, breathe.” Gilbert’s gentle tone sounded, wiping the rag over his forehead one more time before tossing it back to the sink, his hands moving to gently cup his face. The crying had stopped as Feliks just gazed at him, small hitches of breath were the only thing coming from him at this point. “Fel, what happened? Are you okay?”

Feliks seemed to finally register the situation completely, eyes blinking in slight confusion; his entire face was damp now, so the tears weren't as prominent—but his eyes were still red and puffy.

“Gilbert? When… when did you get here?” His voice was breathless, letting out a small utterance of quiet inquiry. Feliks’ hand raised to grip at Gilbert’s forearm as the other put the rag down, kneeling further and scooping Feliks up in his arms as he spoke: “About five minutes ago.” He had taken care to flush the toilet before strolling over to the sink and sitting Feliks on the counter.

Reaching over, he picked up a toothbrush and toothpaste out from where they were kept, popping the cap open and squeezing the paste on the bristles. “Here you go.” He said gently, handing the item to Feliks, who took it from his hand. Opening his mouth, he began to brush his teeth thoroughly with a sigh. Feliks made sure to scrub every inch of the inside. Just the thought of anymore bile or odor being in his mouth made him cringe.

“Here, drink this. Do you want me to get the mouth wash?” Gilbert asked gently after handing Feliks a cup he had retrieved from the bathroom counter, previously filling it with water before he had spoken.

Digits gripped around the cup, bringing it to his lips as he swished it around in his mouth, spitting it out into the sink once he was finished. No words came from him, the only answer he gave was a small nod. Reddish pink eyes remained on his partner for a moment longer, before he then turned his head and retrieved the mouth wash from the cabinet. “Scheiße, Feliks...“He spoke in a low tone, an exhale releasing as he opened the bottle and poured a fair amount into the top, allowing it to reach the line. “...you nearly gave me a heart attack. What happened—“

Turning back around, Gilbert took in the sight of Feliks, left hand up and grasping slightly at his right wrist as his free hand was grasping a bit at his hair. Tears had returned to the corner of his eyes, and it was obvious how much he was trying to hold them back.

Gilbert moved back over to him, his hand coming up and cupping the nape of his neck. “Polan, what is it? Talk to me.”

Feliks responded with a small shake of his head. No, he did not want to tell him about the nightmare. He didn’t want to be responsible for anymore guilt that Gilbert might feel because of him.

“I… don’t want to talk about it.” Feliks mumbled as he reached for the mouth wash Gilbert had in his hand, bringing it up to his lips and then swishing it in his mouth. The tightness in his chest was still there, the strong urge to cry was so prominent, but he forced himself not to. After spitting out the mouth wash, he sighed. The feeling of freshness in his mouth was much better than before. Looking back at the albino, Feliks sighed at the look of unrest on his face; it was easy to see the way those white brows narrowed in a sort of worried glare, that if he wouldn’t get an answer now, he would later.

“Gilbert, I just had… h-had a bad dream,” His voice cracked for a moment, the anguish almost broke through the dam he had constructed. “I’m serious, it’s nothing t-to worry about…” It was clear to Gilbert that he was trying so hard to hold back the cries that he was desperate to keep inside. A frown formed on his pale face, an inhale occurring as he stood taut for a moment.

Looking into those green eyes, he could see beneath the mask Feliks was trying to keep over his face. However, his mask was cracking and Gilbert could see the unspoken truth. The way Feliks kept averting his eyes from him was a silent give away that whatever it was, Feliks didn’t want him to know. That was a dead giveaway. Scarlet-like hues softened quickly, gentle hands reaching out to cup his lovers face, thumbs lightly rubbing against those cheeks in an attempt to comfort. “Feliks…” His voice was gentle, the tone light as a feather. He bent his head so that they were eye level. “Bitte, look at me.” A gentle request as there was a soft pitter patter of feet on the floor; Żulik seemingly watching the both of them in unrest as a small yip expelled from the dog. Feliks was silent for a moment, his adam’s apple moving up and down from swallowing thickly. Slowly, dejected green eyes flickered up to look at Gilbert. Their eyes locked, pupils never leaving the others as the taller of the two searched those emerald pools for something. There was a swelling of dread incasing itself around his chest, and the pressure grew worse and worse when he noticed that the other was still holding back tears that wanted to break out. No, he wasn’t going to allow him to hold any of that back. “Hey…. liebling--” That word felt foreign, his lips moving slowly as he spoke in a sort of whisper. Their relationship had just started, and he was never really sure when he should start giving him more pet names besides “Fel” or other things of that sort. Still, he just felt like doing it now. “--don’t do that. Komm her.”

Feliks throat was tightening up again. The urge to cry now strong once more, and it got harder to hold with each passing second. The moment he heard those words come from Gilbert’s mouth, his body leant forward into the warm embrace. Feliks felt himself being lifted up into his partners arms, his own hands coming up and draping themselves on those broad shoulders as he pressed his face against Gilbert’s collar bone. The Polish man breathed in, the scent of the other overwhelming his senses as he let out a soft, yet shaky exhale. With Gilbert holding him like this, it was getting harder and harder to hold his tears back. He could feel his resolve begin to slowly break as his whole body trembled.

Holding the blond nation in his arms, Gilbert slowly made his way out of the bathroom and turned right down the hallway. After several paces forward, he made it to another door which was already ajar. He entered the bedroom, in which he had been in many times before, carrying Feliks’ still trembling body over to the bed. Sitting down upon the soft cushion, his arms gently shifted Feliks into a more comfortable position. A comforting hand came up to hold the back of his head, fingers tangling in blond locks as Gilbert’s other hand rested on his back, rubbing up and down lightly. The dissolved nation could feel fingers dig into his shirt on top of his shoulder, and as he sat there thinking about the situation and worrying about the other… he didn’t want to press on what has caused his lover to be this distraught, even if he had a hunch. No, if he was to find out, he would let him tell of it when he is ready.

“It’s okay, puppe…”

The trembling was calming down little by little, but he was far from being completely calm. Gilbert could hear the hitched breathing that was muffled by his own chest, and the fact that Feliks was still trying to hold it back internally annoyed Gilbert. His eyes even narrowed for a split second; but looking down at his boyfriend made his heart sink. It hurt him to see him hurting. He couldn’t stand it. His eyes softened as any annoyance, regardless of how small, vanished on instant as he held him as closely as possible. “Liebe..” His voice, soft as a feather, sounded against his ear. “I got you. Beruhig dich… It’s only me. You can let it out.” His voice was calm and gentle like a summer breeze, lips barely opening when he spoke those words. Hearing it, Feliks’ bottom lip started trembling, tears brimming at the corners of his eyes as he clung to Gilbert tighter.

“Let it out.”

Those words were like a key opening a lock; and once the lock turned, the flood gates opened. It started with small hitches of breath, as if he was struggling to breathe. What followed was a symphony of hysterics that he had been trying so hard to hold back. Once that first tear broke free, the rest followed in an unbroken stream and then the sobs let themselves out in an instant. It was a symphony of anguished cries, breaking from his ribcage as if they were trapped in the depths with no way to escape and only now they were being let free. He remembers letting out his pain with his tears earlier, when he was alone… but he doesn’t remember crying this hard, it was almost as if he was borderline wailing. Maybe he did cry this hard before, but it didn’t matter, he doesn’t care about before. The past means nothing to him, all that matters is what is happening now. Now he has Gilbert, he isn’t alone. Gilbert’s here, and he feels safe and secure being held in his arms like this and there was nothing that could pull him from this position. His arms clung around the albino, the others strong arms holding him secure as Feliks’ fingers grasped tighter on the back of his lover’s shirt.

The Prussian personification closed his eyes, now switching tactics and gently rubbing circles into the Slavic nation’s back soothingly; the hand that was grasping his golden head let his thumb gently caress the back of his head, near his ear. Hearing the wails was like a stab to his chest the longer they went on, but he made sure to keep silent and let him cry. If Feliks wished to speak, then he would when he is ready.

It seemed to go on forever. The seconds turned into minutes.

It felt like hours, but from what Gilbert could tell after looking at the clock again, it had only been roughly 14 minutes at most. Feliks had been quiet for a good few minutes, just laying limply against Gilbert, his breathing no longer rampant. Gilbert could feel Feliks give soft inhales and exhales, and attempting to gain the other’s attention, he gently patted his back – the place between his shoulder blades.

“Feliks?”

“…..Przepraszam.”

A white eyebrow would raise quizzingly.

“Was? What are you sorry for?”

A small sniffle could be heard, Feliks raising his head and wiping his face. His hair had stuck to his face due to how it was damp from crying, and Gilbert was quick to help him wipe his face, his thumbs moving across his damp cheeks in an attempt to dry them. “…I got your shirt wet.” It was a soft mumble, but it was easily heard. Gilbert had paused, but once that sentence processed he let out a chuckle. “Halt die Klappe. You know I don’t give a shit about that.” A small grin had broken on Gilbert’s face as he caressed the smaller male’s face, before moving to cup his nape. “Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?” He asked softly, tilting his head to get a better look at Feliks, as he had been looking down slightly.

“Nie. Because you’ll…” Feliks started, but stopped abruptly and just bit his lip.

“I’ll what? Feliks… don’t hide from me.” Gilbert said seriously, leaning in close enough to the point of which their foreheads were touching. Feliks slowly looked up to where their eyes locked. He was beyond hesitant, but with how persistent Gilbert was being, it was easy to tell that he wouldn’t be able to keep it a secret for much longer.

“…..You will try to leave when I say it.” Those words, full of disquietude, came out in a quiet and quick manner. In a way, he was half-afraid to admit this because he knew exactly how Gilbert was going to take it. In the past, there were times where he was unfortunate enough to fall back in a state of mental suffering – whether it being due to some sort of trigger that made him recall a certain event, or otherwise. It all was the same in the end. Post traumatic stress disorder was something he dealt with, and at times when he is deep in that state, he can’t tell what’s real and what’s not. His fear blinds him to the world around him and it suffocates him. There was a time where he had been with Gilbert when it happened, and Feliks knew how it made Gilbert feel to see him in that state… and to know he is responsible. World War II may have been 50 years ago, but the scars from it still run deep in both Feliks and Gilbert. They say that war brings out the worst in a person, don’t they?

Guilt, terrible guilt is the instant emotion he feels when he hears those words. Feliks doesn’t even have to say anything else, Gilbert knows. White eyebrows knit together as he frowns heavily, body slowly tensing. He hates himself, and he’ll never forgive himself for what he made Feliks become. He snuffed out the candle that made him so bright in the past. You’re right, Feliks would say. But you’re the one that’s helping… you’re cleaning up the mess, picking up the broken pieces that you smashed. You blew out the candle, but you’re also picking up a match and re-lighting it. It wasn’t an actual conversation, it only occurred in his head, but it was enough to make Gilbert scoff. It wouldn’t work, no matter how hard Feliks tries to make him feel better, the guilt of his sins will not go away.

Those hands gripped tighter into his arms, knowing by past occurrences that those hands were about to retract and attempt to leave. Gilbert recalled the look on his face the last time he went through one of those panic attacks, or one of his terrible PTSD episodes. He remembered the look of helplessness and fear. He never wanted to see him like that again – and even now, knowing that the episode has probably subsided, he still wasn’t too sure if he should be staying there. He didn’t want to make anything worse with his presence.

“Don’t.”

The word was breathed out, tone desperate and full of worry. “Proszę. Don’t go.” His voice was choked up with his cries, and his fingers were holding onto the fabric of Gilbert’s clothes now like iron. He pursed his lips, words escaping him as he tried to come up with something to say. “Feliks…” His voice was dripping with dejection. Gilbert was able to tell the signs; Feliks was obviously not suffering through a PTSD attack, so it was safe for him to stay, like he wanted to… right? Whenever he had to see the Polish nation go through that, he would always want nothing more than rush over, to scoop him up, to hold and comfort him until he was no longer shaking or crying. It pained him to the core and he wanted to make it better. But during those times, he knew he couldn’t—otherwise he would cause more triggers and it would make his already extreme self-hatred amplify. When Feliks goes through that, sometimes he can’t tell where he is or what the year is. Sometimes he would even revert back to that mindset and just seeing Gilbert’s face would make everything worsen… But now, it seemed okay to stay with him, to hold him like this—it was also clearly what Feliks wanted.

“…nein, I’m not going anywhere. Versprechen.” His hands, that were inching away from his body returned again, gently holding him as he gained more confidence that it was okay to still remain. The guilt that was ever present within his chest often made him question whether it was okay… to be with him like this? Given there past and how much darkness is in it… However, the bond they had built over the years was stronger than ever and the love he felt for the polish nation that had built up over time overshadowed any negative thoughts that he had. They were there, but they were blurred by the positive thoughts. It’s hard to forget the past, but what matters is that they are here now and that everything is better.

He would stay with Feliks forever, until his death. Of course, he promised himself if there was ever a point that Feliks wanted him to leave, he would. Feliks’ comfort and happiness meant too much to him.

Gilbert held him closer, the smaller form of Feliks fitting perfectly in a curled-up position in his lap. The albino brushed his nose against the others cheek, gently coaxing his head up a bit until he was able to press gentle kisses on his forehead, slowly moving down to his cheek. Those soft pecks were enough to start calming Feliks’ sniffling and ragged breath completely. With a content sigh, he moved his face an inch closer to Gilbert, enjoying the feel of those lips on him.

After a few seconds though, he frowned.

“Gilbert?” His tone was curious, emerald eyes opening to meet red ones. Gilbert kissed at his temple, seemingly barely paying attention other than making a small inquiry in the back of his throat. “Hmm?” He slowly moved away to look at Poland’s face, whose eyebrow was raised with an incredulous expression. “Was?”

“Your breath… were you drinking and driving?!”

Gilbert blinked in confusion, a scoff soon coming from the back of his throat, lips curving into an amused smirk as he let out a laugh.

Ja, he’s definitely back.

“Tak! You were!” Feliks accused, giving the larger male several crisp smacks on his bicep. Gilbert was quick on the defense, raising his arm up in an attempt to block the hits while the Slavic nation kept them going. “Scheiß—Es tut mir Leid!“ He chimed in surrender, being forced to lay back against the mattress whilst Feliks manuevered himself to where he was straddling Gilbert’s waist.

“You better be sorry—you—kurwa, what if you had gotten hurt?!“ As a few more smacks rained down, Gilbert was able to grip Feliks‘ wrists, holding them at bay. His face still contorted in a grin, he let a chuckle out from within his chest.

“You’re adorable when you’re worried about me.” He teased, pulling those hands down to lightly press a kiss there. Feliks frowned, a small flush appearing on his face. “Calm down, Feli… I’m fine, aren’t I?” He spread his limbs out for emphasis, letting Feliks see that there was, indeed, no wounds or anything of the like.

“Yes, but what if you weren’t?! I… don’t want to lose you.” Feliks admitted finally in a small voice, plopping his body down to where it was pressed completely against Gilbert, his face against that broad chest that he always felt safe against. There was a pause from the other man. It was as if time itself had stopped for a moment.

Slowly letting go of Feliks’ wrists, Gilbert let his hands fall around him. One gently caressing his back while the other just rested around his waist. Hearing those words felt as if someone has taken a knife and shoved it deep within his chest, causing all joking to immediately cease.

“You won’t lose me, lieb. It’s as I told you, ja? You’re stuck with me.” He gave a grin, reaching a hand up to lightly brush the hair out of Feliks’ face and give a small pinch to his cheek, enticing a small chuckle from the Polish nation. Turning his face back away as to hide it. “Nie!” Gilbert’s grin grew wider at that, and his hand snaked back under there, but instead of pinching his cheek again, his fingers found the skin of his neck and tickled around there, causing a shriek of laughter from Feliks. “Nie, stop..!” He laughed, as did Gilbert. But he didn’t stop yet, as he felt a burst of sudden playfulness. His hands found his sides, poking and tickling any place he could find that would bring the highest laughter out of Poland. It worked as he had wanted as Feliks laughed and squirmed in his position. “Gilbert! Ty kurwa, nie! I’ll kill you!” It was then that Gilbert laughed, stopping the torture and wrapping both arms around his lover and giving a little squeeze. “Now, Komm schon. I got something for you.” Sitting up, Feliks looked at him curiously.

“What is it?” The question rolled off his tongue as he allowed himself to be gently maneuvered off of Gilbert’s lap and upon the couch. Feliks was beyond curious, since it wasn’t his birthday, nor was it a holiday that required gifts. Still, emerald hues watched in curiosity as Gilbert rose from the bed, the grin remaining on his face as he gave a quick wink, dropped eye contact after a moment and quickly moved out of the room. Feliks sat patiently, watching the door with furrowed brows.

It didn’t take long for Gilbert to return to the bedroom with a small gift bag in his hand. Green eyes glanced down at the bag, before returning up to gaze into red ones. A small smile cracked as he gave a bit of a bashful giggle. “Gilbert, what’s this for? I didn’t get you anything…” He spoke, his smile growing once Gilbert had sat down, and promptly pulled the blond back onto his lap, arms wrapping themselves around his waist as his chin rested on his shoulder, that cheeky grin never leaving as he placed the bag on Feliks’ lap. “Shhh, just open it.” His words were gentle, but the tone held a speck of enthusiasm. Feliks gave a soft scoff, his hands reaching up and beginning to open the bag whilst pushing the gift wrapping aside in order to peer inside. What he saw made his heart nearly stop.

“….”

Digits trembled as they dipped into the bag, fishing out a small bracelet. It looked extremely old fashioned, 13th century styling and all. In the center of it, there were two birds. One was a black and the other was white.

These birds were also on the Prussian and Polish coat of arms.

Feliks held the jewelry as if it was the most sacred thing in the room right now, his wrist starting to tremble along with his fingers as he felt fresh tears begin to pool around the corners of his eyes. Good and bad memories began to play in the back of his head, all swimming about in the deep caverns of his mind. Feliks opened his mouth, trying to find words to express what he is feeling right now. The only thing he could manage to get out was a simple “…How?”

“It wasn’t easy…” A sigh, hand scratching at the back of his head before running through white strands. “It’s like finding a needle in a fucking hay-stack. The number of hours I spent at the library, on the computer and at museums! Scheiße, you are lucky you are worth it.” Looking down at Feliks’ mesmerized face, he chuckled.

“It is only fair. I destroyed the other one, it only makes sense that it should be my responsibility to get you this on–“

Those words were cut off when he felt a smaller body suddenly turned around in his lap, now sitting facing him, slender arms wrapped tightly around his neck with Feliks’ face pressed into his collar bone. Fingers would dig into the fabric of his clothing as images from the past began snaking into the forefront of his psyche.

How long ago that had been…

Dusk had set in. The sky was enveloped in thick redness with a bit of orange as the sun set behind the trees, soon to throw them all into darkness.

Feliks stood at the high steps of the capital building, the cool spring breeze of Kraków causing his hair to blow along with the wind. He stood, donning 13th century clothing upon the high steps as he sighed, contemplating how he got to this position. Germania’s offspring had always been a thorn in his side since the moment he came to this earth. Feliks was unsure, but to him it seemed like the little devil wanted to make his life a living hell; who would have thought they would be standing side by side, on the same side of a conflict.

It had been recent. But Feliks had felt himself growing a sort of attraction to the man ever since he came to him, proclaiming his yearning for nation status. What was he to do? The Polish nation, at first, wanted to deny the others advances, but in the end found himself actually wanting the other to succeed.

And succeed he did.

This attraction, however, turned to somewhat of a crush over time. Feliks’ catholic side was disgusted by this self-realization, but he couldn’t stop the thoughts, the dreams, or the images of that handsome face hovering over him in bed with that breathtaking smug grin—

Feliks shook his head violently, a flush growing rapidly on his face as he rubbed a hand up to his forehead. No. Those thoughts are sinful, he mustn’t…

“Look at you. Going to hide out here all night?” Came an amused voice, snapping Feliks out of his thoughts as he turned and caught sight of Gilbert. The Former Teutonic Knights, now known professionally as the Prussian Confederation stood in all his glory, wearing his own stylish 13th century uniform. The hat was gone, so those white locks also danced against the breeze slightly.

“It was getting cramped in there. Gówno.. I don’t know how you stand it.”

“Let’s just say I’m used to it.” A chuckle, and he soon stands beside Feliks.

“I don’t think I ever thanked you for your help.” The Prussian spoke, leaning against the railing that was in front of the both of them so he could get a good look at Feliks. “I’m surprised a little scrawny nation like you decided to help at all.” An Impish grin developed on his face after that.

….Ah, there it is.

“Do you want to die?! Głupi Germański, I shouldn’t have helped you at all if this is how you are going to repay me!” Feliks huffed, glaring daggers at the albino as the other let out a laugh, clearly enjoying himself. He loved to rile Feliks up, it was amusing how feisty he gets when the right buttons are pushed.

“Oi, I could have done it all myself. We just happened to have the same goals, so I figured why not?” Gilbert retorted. Feliks crossed his arms as he raised an eyebrow at him.

“Tak, alright. If that’s the case, why are you still here?”

“I told you. I didn’t get to thank you.” It was then that he reached into the folds of his clothes, pulling out a small bracelet. He took Feliks’ wrist and held his hand flat before placing the bracelet onto his wrist. “Think of it as a sign of ally ship. Friendship. Whatever you want to think, Ja?”

Green eyes would look down at the bracelet, his heart doing flips as he saw the two birds that represented their coat of arms. “Ah… Gilbert, you—” His words were cut off as he felt a hand ruffle his hair. “No need to thank me. It works out, since we are allies after all.” He grinned turning and immediately walking off. “I’m going to head back, I left my leader hanging. See you, Polskie!” He said over his shoulder as he left a shocked Poland staring after him.

A smile developed on his face, his heart suddenly warm…

Little did he know that was the last time Prussia would show him any bit of kindness, and this was only the beginning.

…………

Four centuries later, when his whole word was ripped apart in the partitions. The same bracelet, which he had kept for so long in a small box in the back of his room had been picked up by Gilbert during the first few weeks of him being conquered.

“Aww, would you look at this.” The teasing tone spoke, lips puckered as he turned to Poland. The bracelet was held in hand by two fingers, and Poland stood there with a humiliated and angry flush. Glaring down at his feet as his new owner bent down to level himself. “You kept this after all these years? How cute.” A smirk, before the object was soon thrown sideways into the nearby fireplace. It burned to ashes that night.

At the time, Feliks felt two emotions. Detachment and sadness.

Detachment because of what the other had done to him.

Sadness for his feelings, that had been buried dormant for so long, being stomped on right in front of his face.

Tears would soon fall, as he was left alone in the empty room. Alone.

“Dziękuję Ci.” It was a simple response, muffled. Slowly, he pulled back, misty-eyed as he wiped any remaining tears away.

“You didn’t have to…”

“Nein. I did.” He reached forward, brushing Feliks’ hair behind his ear before using both hands to once again cup his face. “I have so much to make up for, Feliks. I hurt you in more ways than I can count…” His voice was filled with softness, but also a hint of pain as he himself relieved the things he had done in his mind. He can’t ever take it back, but he can make up for it. Little by little.

“Let’s not talk about that though. Let’s see if it looks as good on you as it did the first time.” He grinned, his voice taking a playful turn as he watched Feliks put in on. Feliks smiled, slipping the object on his wrist, tentatively brushing his fingers over it. Gilbert had leaned over and placed a kiss on Feliks’ wrist, hovering for a moment before moving up and placing a kiss on his lips.

This kiss was passionate, both pulling each other as close as possible as all sorts of powerful emotions filled the both of them. It didn’t take long before the need for air became too great, and they both parted. Their breath intermingled, a small laugh emitting from Feliks before speaking softly, “Kocham Cię…”

Gilbert let out small exhales, before chuckling.

“Ich liebe dich auch.”

Fin

Notes: Aaand here it is! My first ever full length and completed one-shot :'D I literally put my heart and soul into this and I'm so happy it's finally posted. PrusPol is my favorite pairing and I could write anything about them eagerly and would love every minute of it! I hope you guys enjoy it.

I also want to thank MY DIAMOND @katsuwu for helping me and being my beta / editor for this! Thank you! <3333

Important: I do not speak Polish or German, so I apologize if any of these are presented the wrong way! Or if translations are wrong!

Proszę - Please Bitte - Please Chłopak - Boy Arschloch - Asshole Bist du in Ordnung - Are you alright Liebling - Pet name, like "Darling" Komm her - Come here Puppe - Doll Beruhig dich - Relax Przepraszam - I'm sorry Was - What Halt die Klappe - Shut up Versprechen - Promise Tak - Yes Es tut mir Leid - I'm sorry Ty kurwa - You fuck Komm schon - Come on Gówno - Shit Głupi Germański - Stupid Germanic Dziękuję Ci - Thank you Kocham Cię - I love you Ich Liebe dich auch - I love you too

This takes place in the mid to late 90s, around the time Gilbert and Feliks first got together. In my timeline, they bonded throughout the Cold War as they were both behind the iron curtain during the last half of the 20th century. During this time they became inseparable and eventually fell in love. While their past with the betrayals, the partitions, ww1 and ww2 still haunt them, they plan to do their best to move past that and be happy.. and they do!

#pruspol #prupol #aph prussia #aph poland #mine #my fics #otp #favorite #save

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szentkiralyszabadja · 5 years

Text

A moment somewhere in time between the fifties and sixties. 1762 words.

The problem with having your teeth pulled by someone other than a dentist is that when an actual dentist sees the hack job left behind, he has to do twice the work to fix the original problem and the newly created ones, and he bitches about it the whole time you’re sitting there, gaping maw full of another man’s hands and a couple of sharp tools, like it’s somehow your fault that you waited for months before seeing him and can’t grow a whole new set of molars or magic a few tens of thousands of forint for some new ones or something. That’s the way it goes as István walks away from the office with a bill big enough for two people and tasting blood all the while he sucks down two, three cigarettes worth of a walk home to his cement block apartment. The dentist had mumbled around a smoldering cigarette of his own that straws and smoking would mess with the stitching, puffing out his scolding in a cloud of smoke while István blinked hard underneath the singular spiral light fixture overhead. Yeah, he’d show him, the old bastard, István seethes to himself as if he isn’t an ancient bastard himself.

A soccer ball bounces across the stairwell followed by a troupe of four kids clambering down the several flights, ducking to avoid István’s lumbering form, as broad as he is long, dried blood on the corner of his mouth making him look all the more worse for wear against the wash of the concrete. A young lady down the hallway looks at him once, ducks her chin into her scarf, and jiggles her key a little harder. He doesn’t remember what the dentist said about alcohol consumption. If he was worth his salt, then he wouldn’t have said a word.

Shoes go somewhere in the corner by the door, heavy and fraying coat hung on the brass hooks to the right. The radiator’s steaming, which at least means it’s working in some capacity. Too tired to make the short trip back to his coat for the lighter he lights another cigarette over the gas burner, singing a couple eyelashes in the process. Not wanting the flame to go to waste he slides over the kettle and lets it sit to boil.

A few floors underneath his window the kids have started the soccer game, coin toss called and teams divvied up with a few vulgarities smattered in between. Rolling up his sleeves István leans on the edge of the sink, steel biting into his elbows. The curtains that Cvijeta had sent him are a nice touch of life against the toneless backdrop, the window smudged and foggy from the clash of the dreary late winter and the lukewarm temperature of the kitchen. He reaches to tug back the curtains, pauses with his fingers over the window latch, writes a nice fasz kivan in the condensation and dust before unlocking and lifting the thing. Cigarette smoke filters out and the settling evening dew turns the window sill damp. A street over, the tram jingles its merry way across town.

István watches the kids play for a few, mild amusement enough to keep him entertained without radio or television and the newspaper shoved into the bin, still folded, covered in the morning’s coffee grounds. One of the younger ones, Béla or Pista or something or other, really has a mouth on him, makes István think of a younger version of himself but a millennium into the future. His jaw hurts too much to smile about it. Right as the smoke burns itself to the filter and spat into the sink the kettle starts to whistle.

Everything about the world around him and in him is too muted and gray, like he’s had his whole head wrapped and filled with wool and the fog had descended into his head. It could be the halothane or his whole situation but it pisses him off more than saddens him. Catharsis is hard to find within yourself and the same four walls that make up your life. The kettle screams all the while he reaches for the rotary and dials through his short rolodex. Feliks doesn’t answer. Cvijeta does answer, but tipsy, so he lets her go whenever he hears the glass clink against the receiver.

Three more rings gets him another answer.

“Lelkem.” His voice is a drone.

“I’m hanging up.”

“Ilse.” Still no inflection.

“Did you call me in the middle of a murder?”

He had forgotten the kettle, shrill and demanding his attention, now echoed by a neighbor banging a fist against the wall. “Esetleg. Maybe.” He shrugs, sandwiching the phone between one shoulder and his ear while he takes off the kettle, pouring it into one of the cleaner cups for the tea to steep. “Maybe I’m the one dying.”

The pause is the length of one of her trademark eyerolls. István can picture her poking the phone cord and twirling it around one finger, bored with him already. “So you call me.”

“So I call you. Pretty sad, huh.”

"Do you need me to read you the last rites? What do you want, István." Now her inflection drops flat, a sure sign that he'd better start talking or at least give her a reason to listen to whatever he'd picked up the phone for or else he'd have the company of his hissing radiator and right hand for the night. He clicks off the burner.

"I went to the dentist today," he starts, "Almost got wires in my jaw."

"That would have been a service to us all. Who knew you could find a good dentist in Budapest?"

"Shut up and let me talk, it's hard enough managing this shit and your mouth." The lip print he leaves on the rim of his cup is tinged pink with blood. The poor excuse for tea tastes god awful with the copper tang.

Ilse scoffs, indignant. "Well?"

"I almost got wires in my jaw," he repeats, leaning against the wall where the phone cord droops from the rotary. "Five of my teeth are gone, some guy pulled 'em. I dunno where they went."

"Some guy?" Her tone is surprised, crackling a bit at the end with interference.

"Months ago, some guy took me aside, some building near where I work. It happens sometimes to people," he sips at the too hot drink, parsing his language into vague enough bits that the ears in the walls wouldn't think much, just a conversation between and man and his ex-wife and few illegal tooth extractions. "He tried talking to me, tried to get me to talk about stuff. But you know me, I don't really trust well. You should know that more than anyone, actually." His jaw still hurts enough to prevent a smirk but amusement bleeds into his tone even as she groans.

"So I don't talk to this guy, or his friends with the guns. I think my exact words were 'you'll get more out of a corpse, and I can't die'. They knew I'm one of those immortal things out there. So instead one guy pulls my head back by the nostrils and another guy's got a pair of pliers. The guy with the pliers goes, alright harelip, if you aren't gonna talk now, you'll remember us when you talk later." Then, silence, the kettle cooling and the kids huddled around the street lights. His jaw is throbbing; they were right. So he shrugs and crosses one foot over the other at the ankle, one sock more thread than cloth. "You can guess the rest. So now my jaw hurts."

"Doesn't seem to be stopping you." Her retort lacks the bite that her others had. There are the background noises of her house: a window shutting, a light switch clicking. "I still don't see why you called me. I'm the last person who'd pat your hand over the phone. István--"

"You think I called you for sympathy? Nyasgem. You give yourself too much fucking credit. I called you because at most you'd call me an asshole, and at the very least you'd listen for a minute before hanging up." His teeth clack together when he bites the vowels too hard and he has to spit whenever he finishes. "That's stability for me nowadays. I don't want you to fucking understand because there's nothing worse than two miserable people talking about how miserable they are. Just listen to me for two seconds, call me an idiot bastard again so I can hang up and call it a normal day." He wipes his lower lip with the back of his wrist, punctuating the sentiment.

The silence hangs like smoke--there, but opaque and waiting. "You're an idiot. A total bastard." Her voice cuts through the fog and he can finally take a deep breath.

"Yeah, what you said."

"Waiting for months to fix that bad mouth of yours-- the biggest idiot that side of the curtain."

"You might be right, you might be wrong."

"I'm more right than you'll ever be." There's the Ilse he knows and thinks of, tone as arch as her brow. This time he smirks through the sharp ache at the back of his mouth when she asks, "Can I hang up now? Or do you have to have the last word as always?"

That's all he wanted to hear. "Nah, just one more thing." He turns to the rotary, leaning palm and temple against the wall. "Thanks. Zsóka. Call me first next time."

“Not on your life.”

It’s a nice promise. His eyelids fall shut at the click of the line, open again when the shrill dial tone beeps its monotone pattern. He drops more than sets the phone back in the cradle and sets his cup aside, the tea gone lukewarm and bitter. The kids are back at the game outside, calling and fighting over a penalty shot.

Still leaning against the wall, István feels better, he supposes. The world is returning to focus, sharp and painful. The empty sockets ache all over again but it's fresh, his pulse echoing in his ears, blood pumping, normalcy returned. He rubs at the sharp line of his jaw, pressing his fingertips into the stubble and skin there, and catches the clock right as the minute hand clicks forward. He latches the window shut again, wipes away the message he wrote on the cloudy glass, but leaves open the curtain.

#my writing #my shoulder hurts too much to draw so i did some writing instead #can't say i'm too dissatisfied with it either. good job @ me #felvilágosítás 》ｈｅａｄｃａｎｏｎ

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crowsvalentine · 6 years

Text

Little Crow 5a

Masterlist

A lot of different people show up to the Slat looking for a job or just for solitude. The slat offered a home to grown men in trouble with the law and teenagers who have too many debts to pay. When the dregs open the door one day and see a cradle, offering only a note for explanation will their leader take the baby in or throw her back to let Ketterdam have it’s way with her?

aka a baby shows up at the Slat and Kaz is Shook (probably making this into a series, maybe I’ll leave it as it is, idk)

When Kaz woke up that morning, he wasn’t expecting to see the smiling face of a four-year-old girl looking down at him. He jumped a bit, his surprise making the girl giggle and flop down onto the bed next to him. In the four years she’d been around, Crow hardly ever stepped foot in the slat, let alone in the top-most bedroom where Kaz stayed. It wasn’t that he didn’t allow her to be there, it was just she never had reason to be. Everything she needed was at the Van Eck Mansion and Kaz could be there in a moment if he was ever needed or if he ever wanted to see her. So, her being in the slat, alone, was not something he’d ever expect. Sitting up, he turned to look at her, raising his eyebrows at the way she casually laid back on his bed, as if it were her own and no one else’s.

“Crow, why are you here?” She’d stopped giggling, her face serious as she pretended to fly Breck above her head. “Crow, where are Jesper and Wylan?” She still didn’t answer, but the corners of her mouth were turned up into a smile. He watched her continue to play, giving him no mind as he sighed and stood from the bed, throwing the blanket over her as he did.

“Hey!”

He smiled at the way she threw it off her, giving him the same glare that he was told resembled his own. Sitting up, she crossed her arms, Breck sitting on her lap with, what Kaz could only feel, was giving him the same look she was. Ignoring the two, he walked into his old office and started getting dressed for the day. He was sure Crow’s visit wasn’t planned, that would have been something he remembered, he was far too busy to spend the day with her that day, things he didn’t plan around a visit from her. He walked back out of the room as he pulled on his gloves, flexing his fingers as each one was pulled over his hands.

“Why do you where those?”

He looked up at her as he buttoned the glove around his wrist, wondering where the question came from when she’d seen him wearing the gloves for years. She was sitting with her legs hanging off the side of the bed, swinging them back and forth as she watched him re-enter the room. Kneeling the best he could to face her, he crossed his arms over her lap and smiled at her.

“It’s a secret,” he whispered, “but because you’re special I’m going to tell you, okay?” She nodded happily, leaning in a bit as if to hear better. He waited a second, smirking when she started fidgeting and getting impatient.

“Da! Tell me!”

She placed her hands on his shoulders, leaning in so close that her nose was touching his, narrowing her eyes as she stared into his own. He took the opportunity to admire the colour of hers, they were smiliar to another pair of eyes he grew to love, but these ones were all Crow, filled with all the joy and mischief a child raised by the dregs could have.

“Okay, okay,” she grinned, “you can’t tell anyone though, okay?” She nodded and turned her head, knowing that secrets were always whispered in ears. “They make me look scarier.”

She burst out laughing and fell back onto the bed making Kaz stare at her in confusion, he didn’t understand what was so funny about what he’d just said, the look of the gloves was actually part of the reason he still wore them.

“Why’s that so funny? Am I not scary?” She sat up and shook her head.

“No! You’re my da, you can’t be scary,” she said matter-of-factly. He rolled his eyes, not wanting to argue with a four year old about his image. Ignoring her, he grabbed his cane from the side of the bed and held out his free hand for her to take. “Da?”

“Yes?”

“Scary people don’t hold hands either.”

There had been a note on his office door when they’d gotten downstairs, it was from Wylan, Jesper and Nina, explaining that he needed to watch Crow for the day because they had given the staff the day off and they needed a day to themselves. He couldn’t be mad at it, Jesper and Wylan needed time alone with each other without needing to worry about the child that took up residence in their home, and Nina had become to sole female influence on Crow in the last year, making sure she wasn’t too corrupted by having three men taking care of her. It was hard work and Kaz couldn’t help but appreciate the need for a break. Kaz just shrugged and threw the note away before telling Crow to get her jacket and boots on. In any other situation, he would have left Crow at the slat, where he was going was not a place for children. However, it was the time of day when the Slat was mostly empty, everyone gone to do their assigned jobs leaving no one capable of babysitting their boss’s ward in the place.

They now walked through the streets of Ketterdam, Crow unsure of why everyone was looking at them the way they were. Kaz tried distracting her by pointing to different buildings and landmarks that she never would have seen before and telling her stories of the tiny jobs he used to do back before he was the leader. As Crow marveled, Kaz and his men glared at the passersby, letting them know that it was far from okay to stare at them as they walked.

It hadn’t taken long for Ketterdam to learn that Kaz had a new girl in his life, the image of the gang leader with a child amusing everyone until they learned that bringing her up was a mistake that they shouldn’t make twice. It took until that year for Kaz to finally accept that people knew about Crow, finally allowing the girl to stray from the mansion and experience life as it was in the city. Though, it was still rare to see the big, bad Kaz “Dirty Hands” Brekker holding hands with a four year old girl who smiled and skipped along next to him. It was a bit jarring, to say the least.

Kaz looked down when he felt a tug at his arm, but Crow wasn’t looking back at him, instead her eyes trained on a small shop that they were about to pass by.

“Can we have ice cream?” She asked making Kaz sigh.

“I have one meeting and then we can have ice cream.” She only nodded, she may have been spoiled but she knew when not to push a matter.

When they arrived at their first destination, Kaz looked back and nodded to Pim and Feliks, who were following close behind, silently telling them to go on ahead to check out the building before they entered. Crow stared up at the fancy building they stopped at, her eyes wide and her mouth making an O in awe of the thing. Kaz chuckled and tugged on her arm gently to get her to walk inside.

“Weapons in the bin.”

The voice had Kaz looking up, ignoring the confused look the two men gave Crow as he let go of her hand. Looking to the side, he saw his own men getting patted down for anything they might have missed.

“Do you really think I’d carry a weapon with a child present?”

The two men just stared at him, one of them even pushing the bin closer as if to say “yes, we’re not taking any chances with you”. They were smart, Kaz hummed and went into his coat to pull his gun out of it’s holster. He tried not to think about Crow as he disarmed, the girl wasn’t completely unaware of the life that Kaz lived, but seeing a gun verses hearing stories about guns were two different things.

“What about the girl?” One of the men asked, still confused about why she was there.

“What about her?” The other asked.

“She’s a little girl, she has package of sweets in one pocket, she won’t hesitate to bite your hand if you touch it, and her toy can sing, she’s carrying nothing that will cause harm to anyone,” Kaz assured them, wondering how someone could be dumb enough to think he’d let a baby carry a weapon.

They both nodded, not wanting to anger Kaz anymore with their assumptions. After patting Kaz down, and Kaz stopping them with a glare when they looked over at Crow, they finally started walking deeper into the building to where the meeting was to by held. He stopped at the door, letting the other men walk in ahead of his own. He turned to look at them, assessing them to see who would be better fit for the job he was about to give.

“You stay out here with Crow,” he said to Feliks, the man’s eyes widened as he looked between his boss and Crow. The dregs were willing to kill and maim for their gang, but taking care of their youngest member was something that not just anyone would be willing to take on, if anything happened to the little girl, then well, that was a sure way to end up at the bottom of a canal. Kaz sighed and put a hand into his pocket, the men stiffened, wondering what the hell he could be pulling out if he’d just disarmed not even a minute ago. However, they let out a sigh of relief when it was just a deck of cards. “Here, teach her a card trick, she likes them,” he instructed, “just keep her occupied and away from the door, okay?”

“Can I go with you?” It was the question Kaz was waiting for and he shut his eyes when Crow finally asked. When he didn’t answer, she tugged on his coat sleeve, trying to gain his attention, “Da, please?” It took everything in him not to look down and get sucked in by the look he knew she was giving him, it was the look that earned her all the toys she now owned and a bigger bedroom at the mansion. If Kaz looked down now, he was sure he’d let her do as she asked.

“No, Crow, go with Feliks, I won’t be gone long,” he said, lifting their joined hands to pass hers to Feliks. She begrudgingly let Feliks take it, her hand much smaller than the man’s, practically wrapping around a single finger in an effort to hold it. When they started to walk off he couldn’t help but frown at the way Crow was dragging her feet. There wasn’t much that could get her upset, and the fact that it was Kaz who could bring her usually happy mood down was something he was less than okay with. However, there wasn’t much he could do about it, he was due in a meeting.

He looked down at the bloodied and bruised bodies of the men around him, the meeting hadn’t gone as planned and he was forced to take measures in a different direction. It wasn’t something he did often anymore, the need for beating not as apparent as it once was when he was still an up and coming leader. He was once accused of becoming soft, and Kaz needed moments like this to prove that that wasn’t the case. Sighing, he grabbed his cane from where it laid on top of the large table, giving one of the men a small nudge with the end of it as he passed.

“Remember this next time you want to cross me, Mr. Parks,” he said before he exited the room. Turning to look at the man, he noticed the way he was smiling, causing an unease to settle over Kaz. The man mumbled something and spit blood out onto the ground, he was the only one of the three still sitting in his chair, giving him an unobstructed view of the two Dregs that stood at his door.

“What was that?” Kaz asked, knowing that it wasn’t something that he’d enjoy hearing.

“I said, you can beat us all you want, but you’ll need to kill us to keep your weakness safe, Mr. Brekker.” He started laughing, taking no mind to the way blood trickled out of his mouth. It took a second for Kaz to understand what he meant, and when he did, he rushed out the door, yelling at Pim to deal with Parks as he did.

He knew he shouldn’t have brought Crow out with him, Kaz may have been a boss but he still had enemies in Ketterdam willing to do anything to bring him down. There were no limits with these people, a four year old girl being anything but off limits to them. Despite his bad leg, he ran to look for Feliks and Crow, and as he did, he remembered a dream he had a few years ago about this very thing happening. The baby crow that was shot out of the sky under his watch might have been coming true, and Kaz lost all of his usual composure at the thought of it. He couldn’t help but remember when Inej was taken, how back then he was able to stay calm, keeping all of his worry bottled up inside him to show that nothing could bring him to a breaking point. All of that was lost when it came to Crow.

When he finally reached the front of the building, he skidded to a halt. Kaz had never found the sound of laughter so comforting before, Crow’s laughter was something that he always wanted to hear every second of the day to know his girl was perfectly safe. He slowly walked over to her, and he found himself smiling when she caught sight of him and grinned.

“Look!” She exclaimed, holding out a fan of cards, “pick one!” He kneeled down on his good leg, smiling as he did as instructed. “Now put it on top!” He watched as she shuffled her small deck, something he taught her awhile ago and that she’d gotten good at just hours after learning. She lifted a single card and held it right up to his face, making Kaz go cross eyed when he tried to focus on what was written on it. “Is this your card?”

“Yes, it is, you did a good job,” he praised.

There was something in him that he hadn’t felt in years, and it caused him to wrap his arms around Crow and pull her to his chest. One of his hand pressed to the back of her head as he held her close. He laughed, genuinely laughed, when he felt her wrap her own arms around him, the assurance that the hug gave him making him want to hold onto her forever.

“Da, I didn’t finish my trick!” Crow said, quickly pulling away from him. She held something in her right hand, her small fist clutched around it making Kaz raise his eyebrows at her. He spared a look over at Feliks, only getting more confused at the look of pride he was giving Crow. “Tricks are just a distraction.” Those were words she’d heard him say the first time he taught her a trick, it was a simple ‘now you see it, now you don’t’ trick that even he learned before he’d come to the city. He’d stolen the wrapped piece of candy out of her pocket that day, it amazed her more than anything else. It should have been worrying, that she was entertained by theft, but he couldn’t help but feel proud when she asked to learn more. Once she repeated the words she held out her hand, opening her fist to reveal the double-sided coin he had hidden in his sleeve.

“How did you know that was there?” He asked, amazed by what she’d just done. She leaned in, just as he had that morning, ready to whisper him a secret.

“Magic.” She squealed when he stood and lifted her, laughing when she wrapped her arms around his neck. Learning her new skill had thankfully helped her forget about Kaz practically abandoning her earlier, her sadness completely being replaced by the joy of besting him at his own game. “Can I have ice cream now?”

“Yes, I think you deserve some ice cream.”

He set her down, but she froze when he held out his hand for her to take, her eyes widening at the sight of something. He quickly drew back, completely forgetting about what now stained his gloves. She hadn’t noticed it before, thankfully, too excited about her trick to pay much attention to the blood that covered the back of his gloves. Pim and Feliks watched him, wondering what had just happened. Clearing his throat, Kaz looked at the two.

“What is-“

“It’s nothing, Crow, just a bit of ink.”

Thankfully the red almost disappeared on the black of his gloves, looking like a colourless inky substance that he could play of as just that. Crow seemed to believe it and nodded, though she made no move to retake his hand before she started walking towards the door. He motioned for Feliks to walk with her, not wanting to scare her anymore than he already has. As the two of them left the building, he and Pim found the bin with their weapons and rearmed themselves, Kaz wiping his gloves on a discarded piece of paper as he did so.

“You shouldn’t bring her to these things, boss, we promised we would keep her away from what we do,” Pim’s quiet voice said. Kaz frowned at his words, he’d been there the day Crow had arrived and he was one of the first to hold her when they’d decided to keep her. Pim was no stranger to what happened to the vulnerable young in Ketterdam, his own family being victim to it not long ago. Kaz only nodded at him, already knowing that what he said was true but not wanting to say it himself.

“She’s going to learn eventually, Pim, better to do it slowly.”

Kaz watched her from his place against the wall, the slow rise and fall of her chest, the way she clutched her crow, and the look of peace on her face that could only come from someone who felt completely safe where they laid. Crow was safe with him, he’d always try to convince himself. Nina praised his ability to adapt to having an unexpected child, she always did, but adaption meant changing and Kaz wasn’t sure he was doing enough to change for Crow. His life still posed a threat to her and at this point, he couldn’t bare it if something happened to her. Today was just the first day anyone had dared to use her as a pawn against him, threaten her in the hope of getting Kaz to bend to their will, and there was no saying if it would ever happen again.

Walking over to his bed, he gently sat down next to Crow, careful not to wake her up after the busy day they’d had. It used to be that Kaz was just afraid of change, that the world wouldn’t take him seriously if he’d become soft and easy on those who ran under him. He solved that problem, proving that he was still the same Dirtyhands that ruled the streets years ago, that having Crow meant nothing when it came to business. Then there was the problem of him not being good enough for Crow, that she deserved better guardians who didn’t have his passed trauma. However, he was assured time and time again that he was the best that Crow could have, that no one could keep her from the life of the Barrel better than the top Barrel Boss himself. He was sure Crow was safe with him, he took precautions, made sure that she was aware but not apart of his world. That changed and looking at her now, something so untouched and unchanged by the evils Kaz saw everyday, he couldn’t help but think he failed her some how.

“Well, I wasn’t expecting this.”

He moved faster than a bullet at the voice, so unexpected at the late hour and in his own bedroom. His first instinct was to grab Crow, keep her close to him in case the unexpected intruder was there to take her. His scare from earlier still too fresh in his mind to keep her more than a step away from him. Holding her to his chest now, still fast asleep on his shoulder, he couldn’t help but stumble at the speed in which he moved. The fall against the wall caused her to wake up, waking the four-year-old as she cried out at the unwanted jolt.

Crow was almost dropped when Kaz finally looked up at who came in, the image something out of a dream that he could recall all too vividly at that moment. He didn’t drop her then though, he held her closer if possible, his fear slowly being replaced by a tiniest of smiles.

#i write for soc #kaz brekker #inej ghafa #jesper fahey #wylan van eck #nina zenik #kanej #wesper #six of crows #crooked kingdom #soc fic

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very-hetalia-pineapple · 6 years

Text

Used

[authors note : This chapter does contain graphic imagery so if you don’t like that don’t read. :D]

Used. That’s all Gilbert felt when he was trapped with Ivan. Defiled and damaged. A monster hiding in his closet, in his bed, putting thoughts into his mind, bruises on his skin, and making him feel used. There were days when Gilbert would lay in bed, hot tears running down his face, waiting for something to give, something to break. Ivan used him. Used him for whatever he wanted, sex, money, power, a punching bag, anything. Gilbert was his toy. Gilbert wasn’t the only one to feel used, the three kids Ivan bullied, Eduard, Raivis, and Toris, Gilbert was sure they felt used.

Gilbert was forced into this relationship by Ivan, their fathers worked together and they often spent time at Ivan’s house alone. Where no one could hear Gilbert’s sobs when Ivan beat him. No one knew, until Alfred and Matthias followed them to the roof top. That was a year ago, he still felt used, but he was happy. Ivan moved back to Russia, and he had regained his friendships and had a small crush on Alfred’s older brother. Everything had been going great for Gilbert. Had.

It was Monday, everyone hated Mondays. Especially Gilbert. He had woken up early that morning, luckily, meaning he could get an extra cup of coffee in his already hyper system and he could get to Matthew’s house faster. They usually walked to school together, if Gilbert wasn’t late.

Now it was homeroom, he was messing around with Roderich and Elizabeta while laughing at some joke Feliks said. “Hey Gil stop throwing paper balls towards me it’s getting annoying” Roderich said wacking away the small paper ball Gilbert was throwing towards him. “Nah, I’m trying to hit that unawesome curl of yours.” Gilbert said before hitting the curl. “Yes!” He jumped up and laughed. “H-Hey, you’re so annoying. Lizzy do something please” “I can’t, the principal said if I bring my pan again I’ll get suspended” Elizabeta said before going back to her conversation with Feliks. Gilbert sat down, smiling back at his friends. “Where’s Vash?” He said looking around for the hot headed Swiss. “I think Lilly has the flu so he stayed to help her” The polish teen said. Gilbert nodded.

Home room went by smoothly, only being threatened by the teacher once to get sent to the office, as opposed to the usual three times, Gilbert opened up his locker and pulled out his English textbook. “Gil! You need to hide!” Alfred said running up to the older Prussian. “What Alfr-“ “He’s back” The stiff silence filled the halls as he looked back at the panting American. “You don’t mean-“ “He’s in my home room and- and our English” Alfred huffed out as he looked behind him. “We’re going to have to run” Suddenly Gilbert’s hand was being pulled by the smaller teen, he ran with him getting into the classroom before most of the people. “Does Matthias know!” Gilbert asked, fidgeting with the hem of his jacket. His anxiety started to fill him as he remembered to pain and the bruises. “No but-“ Alfred stopped talking, so did everyone else in the room. A sickening dread filled Gilbert, anxiety course through his veins, he felt restless. He didn’t want to turn around, fearing to outcome. “Sunflower?” A Russian accented voice said. Gilbert felt a chill down his spine. This was how he lured you in, he called you all these nice nicknames and he showered you with love before locking his hands around you. Words escaped him, it felt like bubblegum was in his throat, preventing him from saying anything. He felt a large hand on his shoulder, a familiar feeling before Alfred slapped Ivan’s hands off of Gilbert’s shoulder. “Don’t touch him” He said before sitting down in a seat in front of Gilbert. He didn’t realize this but Matthias and Lukas had made their way into the room. Matthias immediately sat behind Gilbert and made Lukas sit on his right side, there was no way Ivan could have gotten to Gil now.

The rest of the day went by fast. Luckily Gilbert didn’t have any other class with Ivan except English. He avoided him all day, staking our in the bathroom, eating lunch behind the gym with Eduard, Raivis, and Toris, they were also hiding. It was a big game of cat and mouse, but when the last bell rang Gilbert was quick to rush out of the school. He hopped into his Fathers car, forgetting that anything had happened in the first place. “I’m sure you know that Ivan has moved back?” Gilbert frowned and nodded. Suddenly noticing they weren’t on the road toward their house. “A-m I-“ “Yes you are, and you’re going to behave yourself” Ludwig pulled up into the all too familiar driveway. “I’ll pick you up at eight” Ludwig and Gilbert walked up to the mahogany door, knocking. Ivan’s dad walked out and smiled at Gilbert. Gilbert reluctantly walked inside the house. He felt almost nauseous seeing Ivan. “Sunflower, you came!” Ivan said before forcing a hug. Gilbert pressed his hands on Ivan’s chest, trying to get the taller male off of him. “Ivan get off of me!” He screamed. He felt all the familiar things mess with him. It felt as if pins and needles were against his skin, tears swelling in his scarlet eyes. Ivan just chuckled, before he threw Gilbert down, “I make the rules here Lyublyu” He said. Gilbert’s breath was caught in his throat, he sat up before putting his pale face in his hands, curling up into a ball. Trying to somewhat protect himself. “Oh, Lyublyu.” Ivan picked up the smaller male and placed him on the couch in his lap, stroking his pearl white hair. Gilbert wanted so bad to give in, give up, let Ivan have what he wanted. But he couldn’t. Gilbert crawled off his lap and sat down at the other end of the deep mulberry couch. “I-I’m not doing this again I-Ivan” He said looking back at the Russian teen. “But Sunflower I’ve changed-“ “No! No! I’m not falling for your s-shit. I-I” His words got caught in his throat again. The couch dipped from the weight of Ivan sitting closer to him. Ivan stroked Gilbert’s cheeks, ‘don’t listen. Don’t listen.” He was chanting that in his head. “Oh, Gil. I know how much I’ve hurt you but let me make it up too you Milaya” Ivan said before putting Gilbert back on his lap. He slowly kissed his jaw, and went down his neck, before Gilbert pushed himself up. “Y-you think s-sex is g-going t-o fix t-two years of your b-bullshit!” Gilbert shrieked. He self consciously wrapped his arms around his chest. Ivan frowned, it never was that easy with Gilbert.

Ivan got up from his spot on the couch and grabbed Gilbert’s wrists “Milaya I’m going to get what I want. No use in fighting it” Ivan nipped at the Prussians neck. “I-Ivan stop!” Gilbert yelled, Ivan just smirked against Gilbert’s pale skin. Gilbert thrashed around, even though he knew it was useless, Ivan was five times his strength and height. He was pinned on the couch by the large Russian, hot tears fell down his face, he knew this part of the story all too well. “You should be used to this, Da?”

Gilbert woke up feeling used. He never thought he’d feel that awful again. He felt the new bruised form on his wrist and hips, bile wanting to spill over. Gilbert sat up and reached for his clothes. Feeling more and more disgusted with himself as time went by, it was already 7:30 at night. Ivan was passed out on the couch. Gilbert shuttered, he had never felt more repulsed of himself. He went to the bathroom to hopefully drown out some of his feelings. What was in the mirror was a nightmare. Hickies ran along the teens neck, a bruise was starting to form on his jaw, and his hair was disheveled. Used, he let himself be used again. Tears threatened to rush down his face as he sat down on the floor crunched up into a ball. Muffled sobs rang throughout the large house.

Ivan woke up to the sounds of crying coming from the bathroom. He knew Gilbert would do this, he always did. Ivan sighed before opening the bathroom door. Gilbert jumped hearing the door open. The bubblegum was back, words stuck in his throat. The words that should’ve stopped all of this. Ivan looked down at the smaller male, chuckling. “Don’t you ever get tired of crying? It seems like that’s all you ever do now.” Ivan smiled before grabbing Gilbert’s hand and harshly pulling him up. “Milaya” Ivan spoke softly, like he cared. Brushing some strands of Snow White hair out of Gilbert’s face. He pressed a soft kiss on the Prussian’s forehead. Gilbert was writhing with anger, Ivan was always this kind after an inhuman act. His skin throbbing from the pervious events, and his mind felt almost as bruised as his body. He suddenly jerked back in anger. “You- You!” His fist came crashing down on Ivan’s broad chest. “How can you do that to me and just act like nothing happened! You can’t just barge in my life and fucking ruin it!” He punches and punched, not seriously hurting Ivan. They both heard the front door open. Gilbert brushed past Ivan wiping away the tears and grabbing his black hoodie. Trying to cover up the hickies and bruises before his father noticed. “Gilbert?” Ludwig said before Gilbert ran toward the car. He quickly opened the passenger door and sat down, ready to leave.

That Tuesday, Gilbert was oddly silent. He wasn’t messing with Roderich or Elizabeta. He was just stirring in his seat, starring at his wrist, the mauve purple bruises very apparent on his wrist. “Hey Gil are you alright?” Elizabeta said worries for the usually loud teen. “Y-Yeah I’m fine” Gilbert squeaked out , his voice cracking.

Alfred and Matthias noticed this immediately. Rushing towards their friend in English. Alfred saw the purple bruises on the teens wrist and neck, Alfred sharply toke in air before turning to the Russian. “So you think you can just do this to people and get away?” Alfred said shoving Ivan. Ivan chuckled seeing Gilbert deteriorate. “I’ve gotten away with it so far” Alfred sat in anger before ramming his fist in his jaw. “ALFRED!” Gilbert yelled. Alfred stopped and looked back at Gilbert. “We’ll deal with this properly” he said before walking out of the classroom and walking towards the roof.

Gilbert sat there for a while, not knowing what to do. He felt the wind blow on his face before rain started to pour on him. Sobs threatened to escape his throat. Matthias ran up to the roof, seeing Gilbert sitting in the rain. “Gil!” He yelled looking at his friend. The albino got up and walked towards Matthias. “I’m pretty sure Ivan just got the shit kicked out of him by Alfie.” He said trying to bring the mood up a little bit. “I don’t know what to do Matt” Gilbert said, the weight of everything crashing down on him. Matthias wrapper Gilbert in a hug, trying to calm him down. “Gil, why don’t we go to Toni’s today and let him know“ Matthias said trying to calm his friend down. “S-Sure” Gilbert managed to get out of his throat before feeling the pins and needles come back and surround his skin. “Why don’t we call Toni and ask if he can check you out, you don’t need anymore stress” Matthias said walking the Prussian teen towards the office.

#Aph russia #aph prussia #aph denmark #aph america #aph germany #my au #abuse #content warning

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