Re: Meeting [3/?]
anonymous
September 28 2009, 01:11:02 UTC
"Have some vodka. It's good. I know how you like it, da?" The previously ignored gift was brought back around, the large fingers popping the top with the speed of an addict needing a fix. Feliks was not amused by the offering. He would much prefer his own delicious alcohol than to drink that Russian poison.
Which wasn't such a far out thought, Feliks mused that it must be tainted in some way for Ivan to share it with him.
"Some cups?"
The blond didn't answer, staring at the vodka as though it would burst at any second with a makeshift bomb.
"Unless you want to share the bottle...”
Eye twitching in annoyance, he turned on his heel and walked to his kitchen. He didn't want to share. He wanted this meeting to be over and done with so he could go back to his afternoon. Pulling two cups, one dirty and one clean, he brought them back to the table, sliding the cup with tea stained lip prints towards the Russian.
"Like, hope you don't mind." Feliks sneered, holding the clean porcelain in his own hand.
To his chagrin, Ivan didn't seem to mind at all. A smile appeared on his face at the offered cup and he poured a generous amount into the little Polish man’s own before filling his only halfway.
"The gift was intended for you, da, not me." He commented before Feliks could retort something nasty. All he could expect from him was harsh words and cold retorts; because he knew he deserved them. The atrocities during World War II and the many other, innumerable times he had betrayed the boy's trust, made the treatment well-deserved in his mind. He had gone about the wrong way to make them all see they had to be One with him.
The same mistake would not be made twice. He had never intended to put the little Pole through the torture he had once gone through himself, to feel the same despair he felt, but wanted to protect him, them all. Make them all one family. It was just easier to help, when they were all in the same house.
Russia would protect them all.
Even if it took some time to get them to see it his way.
Even now, his violet hues watched the deliberate, fake sips Feliks would take, as though he wouldn't notice.
Ivan always noticed.
Smiling, he coughed under his breath to gain the little one's attention before taking a sip of the drink, gulping deliberately as the liquid passed down his throat.
It is safe. He seemed to say with that statement, leaving the Pole more than confident he could drown out his sudden worries about the situation in the alcohol that didn't taste too bad after all, as it burned down his throat.
Within seconds, the entirety of his cup was gone and he didn't even care anymore that the Ivan was getting closer, tugging his arm in a gentle way that he was unaccustomed too. He was brought down to the couch, cushions sagging between the two of them in such a way that the blond nearly lost his bearings.
"Like, you can, ya know, go now. I don't need you to get totally plastered."
Re: Meeting [4/end]
anonymous
September 28 2009, 01:13:30 UTC
Now he couldn't see Ivan's face, unless he looked into the bottle itself to see the distorted reflection. It didn't suit the Russian. Making his smiling face look deranged and his eyes spaced so far apart, that he took the look of a mad scientist.
Feliks laughed.
Ivan chuckled, unsure of what brought him into higher spirits, but thankful regardless.
It was at that moment, the same moment where he removed the bottle, topping off the blond's drink with another cup full of vodka, that he spoke out.
"I'm sorry."
The body beside him stiffened, turning his head only slightly to glance up at the violet eyes that met him with such intent--a gentle intent he could not place.
It had to be fake.
"Don't, like, even start Ivan."
"I'm sorry, Polska"
The pale, thin fingers slammed down onto the table, jarring the stilled liquid and causing both the cups to shift and tip over, staining the wooden table.
"Like, you're sorry?" The words came out hoarse, whispered with such vehemence that even Ivan felt taken aback by the sudden change in tone from someone who had just been previously laughing.
"You're sorry!" Now the boy was laughing, eyes shimmering with amused tears and his fingers curling on top of the damp table. "YOU BASTARD! Nienawidzę cię! I HATE YOU."
The smile on his face ceased; he knew how it irritated the younger nation.
Emerald eyes turned back to him with a piercing gaze, angry and hurt.
"You're SORRY? For what?! Like, totally burning down my cities? Killing my people? Taking Liet away from me?!" He didn't move from his position, whether it be the daze of the alcohol or pure fury alone. "You're sorry for totally messing with me?! Annexing me?! Leaving me with those German bastards?! THE KATYN MASSACRE." His voice was strong and angry, as though he were talking the country in its entirety and not just he one person in front of him.
"For all those people you killed, like, right in front me! You're sorry now? NOW? Like, don't make you laugh you bastard. I totally know you better than that.."
As he was going to storm off, he felt an iron grip on his wrist. Swinging back around, he was already going to smash a fist in his face, when he noted something strange in the Russian's eyes.
Down his cheeks and...
to the coat he wore.
Crying. Ivan was crying.
Feliks followed suit, eyes stinging with the salty tears.
"L-Like..why are you the one crying..you bastard."
He never got a response, just quiet whispers of 'I'm sorry' buried in his hair as he was pulled forward, tightly pressed into the warm overcoat.
The kisses to the top of his head were a good start.
The soft kisses that trailed down his face, over to his tear stains cheeks helped it along.
"I'll protect you, Polska. I'm sorry, da. I won't let anyone ever hurt you like that. Forgive me."
Even as the large hands trailed over his back, rubbing the area in such a soothing way he was almost sure it was Liet in a very large Halloween costume, he still wasn't sure if he could forgive him.
The hugs were a good start though.
---------------------------- Hope OP liked this. Nienawidzę cię- I hate you.
Dammit, I have a paper to write tonight but you just FRIED MY BRAIN. And I love you for it.
Seriously, this is exactly what I wanted. I just...hurt for Poland so much, and I love how obvious it was that Russia is not used to doing this sort of thing and...the end made me feel so happy and hopeful for them.
Oh, Russia. Russia, Russia, Russia. We need more of Russia like this. Russia with depths, with better intentions, with the capacity to feel remorse. I think it still makes me a bad American, but I refuse to believe Russia doesn't have that capacity. And SPOT ON with Feliks's reaction, I can see him losing his shit pretty quickly in this situation, and with good reason.
This is wonderful. I hope you'll join your fellow talented anons and continue to write, because your talent is simply too much to be wasted.
Re: Meeting [4/end]
anonymous
October 2 2009, 13:51:38 UTC
Guilty!Russian!Anon feels almost a kind of catharsis through this. Russia's never portrayed like this, and it makes me feel so sad and alone that I don't see things that way, and in real life and fiction want hugs and apologies and nice things. This really touched me. Thank you for writing it.
Which wasn't such a far out thought, Feliks mused that it must be tainted in some way for Ivan to share it with him.
"Some cups?"
The blond didn't answer, staring at the vodka as though it would burst at any second with a makeshift bomb.
"Unless you want to share the bottle...”
Eye twitching in annoyance, he turned on his heel and walked to his kitchen. He didn't want to share. He wanted this meeting to be over and done with so he could go back to his afternoon. Pulling two cups, one dirty and one clean, he brought them back to the table, sliding the cup with tea stained lip prints towards the Russian.
"Like, hope you don't mind." Feliks sneered, holding the clean porcelain in his own hand.
To his chagrin, Ivan didn't seem to mind at all. A smile appeared on his face at the offered cup and he poured a generous amount into the little Polish man’s own before filling his only halfway.
"The gift was intended for you, da, not me." He commented before Feliks could retort something nasty. All he could expect from him was harsh words and cold retorts; because he knew he deserved them. The atrocities during World War II and the many other, innumerable times he had betrayed the boy's trust, made the treatment well-deserved in his mind. He had gone about the wrong way to make them all see they had to be One with him.
The same mistake would not be made twice. He had never intended to put the little Pole through the torture he had once gone through himself, to feel the same despair he felt, but wanted to protect him, them all. Make them all one family. It was just easier to help, when they were all in the same house.
Russia would protect them all.
Even if it took some time to get them to see it his way.
Even now, his violet hues watched the deliberate, fake sips Feliks would take, as though he wouldn't notice.
Ivan always noticed.
Smiling, he coughed under his breath to gain the little one's attention before taking a sip of the drink, gulping deliberately as the liquid passed down his throat.
It is safe. He seemed to say with that statement, leaving the Pole more than confident he could drown out his sudden worries about the situation in the alcohol that didn't taste too bad after all, as it burned down his throat.
Within seconds, the entirety of his cup was gone and he didn't even care anymore that the Ivan was getting closer, tugging his arm in a gentle way that he was unaccustomed too. He was brought down to the couch, cushions sagging between the two of them in such a way that the blond nearly lost his bearings.
"Like, you can, ya know, go now. I don't need you to get totally plastered."
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Feliks laughed.
Ivan chuckled, unsure of what brought him into higher spirits, but thankful regardless.
It was at that moment, the same moment where he removed the bottle, topping off the blond's drink with another cup full of vodka, that he spoke out.
"I'm sorry."
The body beside him stiffened, turning his head only slightly to glance up at the violet eyes that met him with such intent--a gentle intent he could not place.
It had to be fake.
"Don't, like, even start Ivan."
"I'm sorry, Polska"
The pale, thin fingers slammed down onto the table, jarring the stilled liquid and causing both the cups to shift and tip over, staining the wooden table.
"Like, you're sorry?" The words came out hoarse, whispered with such vehemence that even Ivan felt taken aback by the sudden change in tone from someone who had just been previously laughing.
"You're sorry!" Now the boy was laughing, eyes shimmering with amused tears and his fingers curling on top of the damp table. "YOU BASTARD! Nienawidzę cię! I HATE YOU."
The smile on his face ceased; he knew how it irritated the younger nation.
Emerald eyes turned back to him with a piercing gaze, angry and hurt.
"You're SORRY? For what?! Like, totally burning down my cities? Killing my people? Taking Liet away from me?!" He didn't move from his position, whether it be the daze of the alcohol or pure fury alone. "You're sorry for totally messing with me?! Annexing me?! Leaving me with those German bastards?! THE KATYN MASSACRE." His voice was strong and angry, as though he were talking the country in its entirety and not just he one person in front of him.
"For all those people you killed, like, right in front me! You're sorry now? NOW? Like, don't make you laugh you bastard. I totally know you better than that.."
As he was going to storm off, he felt an iron grip on his wrist. Swinging back around, he was already going to smash a fist in his face, when he noted something strange in the Russian's eyes.
Down his cheeks and...
to the coat he wore.
Crying. Ivan was crying.
Feliks followed suit, eyes stinging with the salty tears.
"L-Like..why are you the one crying..you bastard."
He never got a response, just quiet whispers of 'I'm sorry' buried in his hair as he was pulled forward, tightly pressed into the warm overcoat.
The kisses to the top of his head were a good start.
The soft kisses that trailed down his face, over to his tear stains cheeks helped it along.
"I'll protect you, Polska. I'm sorry, da. I won't let anyone ever hurt you like that. Forgive me."
Even as the large hands trailed over his back, rubbing the area in such a soothing way he was almost sure it was Liet in a very large Halloween costume, he still wasn't sure if he could forgive him.
The hugs were a good start though.
----------------------------
Hope OP liked this.
Nienawidzę cię- I hate you.
Reply
That was so sweet. I just want to give them both huge hugs.
It is your duty as a talented citizen of internet to write moar!
(And I love the different way you brought up 'being one with Russia.' Don't see it in a nice light that often. <3)
Reply
Seriously, this is exactly what I wanted. I just...hurt for Poland so much, and I love how obvious it was that Russia is not used to doing this sort of thing and...the end made me feel so happy and hopeful for them.
NOW GO DO THIS IRL, RUSSIA. D:
Bravo, anon. Have my babies. :D
Reply
Oh, Russia. Russia, Russia, Russia. We need more of Russia like this. Russia with depths, with better intentions, with the capacity to feel remorse. I think it still makes me a bad American, but I refuse to believe Russia doesn't have that capacity. And SPOT ON with Feliks's reaction, I can see him losing his shit pretty quickly in this situation, and with good reason.
This is wonderful. I hope you'll join your fellow talented anons and continue to write, because your talent is simply too much to be wasted.
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