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The Kaliningrad Oblast is the child of Prussia and Russia. The conception was not consensual. Prussia's reaction to the pregnancy is as could be expected.
Bonus for Russia being oblivious to Prussia's despair (and abortion attempts), and just feeling happy about becoming a father.
Prologue
Kaliningrad. The youth of a new nation, a young boy playing with building blocks on the floor, innocently unaware of the cruel world he had just been born into.
The child had tufts of white-blonde hair, and even shared the same eye colours as his fathers, despite slight hematochromia staining one eye red and the other violet-red.
Russia couldn't help himself but smile, pouring as much affection on his baby as possible. He kissed him, played with him, stayed by his side almost all the time, and when the time came that Kaliningrad could eat solids, he got the first pick of the best food Lithuania had cooked up.
The Baltics were unaware, however, as they watched Ivan spoon-feed his laughing, happy baby, of just where it had come from. On the map, it was between Russia and Lithuania, although Toris had no clue about the baby when asked.
Kaliningrad's personality was affectionate and curious, and he had an odd way of staring at a person, as if he were staring into their very soul. He laughed and squealed happily when he was played with by his papa, but his other papa didn't bother.
Prussia treated Kaliningrad as if he wasn't there. Whenever the infant would toddle over to his position of the couch, non-verbally asking to be played with, Prussia would ignore him. Only once or twice did he ruffle the baby's curls, and even that was only under the threatening stare of Russia, who the child would then toddle back to and nuzzle.
Prussia had never wanted to be a parent, and saw children as nuisances. He referred to Raivis as a whiny little brat, and had less harsh words against Liechtenstein. Now he had one of his own, although he felt horribly guilty that he didn't care about the child, he remembered just how Kaliningrad 'happened', and it was enough to put him off loving Kaliningrad, ever.
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Prussia was pissed off.
Not only was he in pain at the moment, he couldn't find the goddamn jar of pickled onions and several slabs of mature cheese he'd been almost tearing the kitchen apart for in the middle of the night.
The slight swelling on his stomach, that he'd been trying to hide so desperately for the past few months, kicked in protest as Prussia had to deny his hormones. Prussia punched it lightly. “Shut the fuck up!” One more kick, then the baby quietened down.
But Fate wasn't going to deal Prussia a good card right now.
Russia appeared behind him in the darkness, and in an instant, had him held just so that he was completely restrained, one hand moving over the bulge on his stomach. “Oh? What is this, my dear GDR?”
“Shut the fuck up, it's Prussia!” It was a knee-jerk reaction, yelled whenever Russia called him that name.
Those gloved fingers danced across the stomach. “It's now German Democratic Republic, my dear. Although, this little one will need a new name.”
“I don't want it!” Prussia snapped after a brief silence. “Especially since it's your fucking baby!”
Russia grinned, breathing against Prussia's neck. “I know it is, da. I thought Lithuania would be the one to get pregnant, since the new baby nation is to be situated between myself and him according to my great leader... how funny that you're the mommy, hmm?”
Prussia growled. “I said shut the fuck up! I don't want it!”
“You don't have a choice.” Russia said firmly. “I want to be a parent. You'd make me very sad if it were to be aborted, da.”
'Very sad' in Russia's vocabulary, of course, didn't mean that he would be emotionally upset. More angry enough to kill.
He leaned over and kissed the bump.
Prussia snapped again, trying to get him off as Russia's ear pressed against it.
“I can hear our child's heart beating, Prussia.” Russia said, childish wonder laced into his voice. “Now it's wriggling slightly.”
“Fuck off!”
“I won't.” He stated firmly, stroking the bump. “It's our child, and I'm very happy, da.”
“F-fuck.” Prussia growled. “How the fuck did you know?”
“Well, you aren't very good at getting up quietly and being sick, da. Also, I keep finding that my pickled onions are disappearing from the cupboards, and the cheese is going too.”
Prussia glared down at him. Russia was always watching, always waiting, with a stupidly fucking nonchalant grin on his face. The tall man then rose, smiling at Prussia before pecking him goodnight. “Make sure to sleep well, da~.”
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It's looking awesome so far, anon!
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