Hetalia kink meme part 21
axis powers
hetalia kink meme
part 21
VIEW THIS PART ON DREAMWIDTH
STOP! DO NOT REQUEST HERE!
NEW REQUESTS GO IN THE MOST RECENT PART!
New fills for this part can go HERE.
Please continue existing fills on this post until it is full.
Get information at the News Post.
“It’s not about you, Poland. In fact, most things aren’t.” Liet’s voice was tired, but he loved the sound of it anyway.
Feliks curled into his pillow and sniffed to cover up his tears. “Um, I like, totally don’t. And it’s not because I didn’t like Natalia- I wanted to fix her, for you, Toris. And I don’t wish that I was dead instead and I won’t say I wish I was cause that’s bullcrap. I’m sad she died but I’m happy too, and I’m, like, scared, I guess. Cause Natalia’s like, beautiful, and she’s so, like, girlish or something, and that’s why you love her cause she’s a beautiful girl, and it just kind of sucks. I mean, I get if you hate me, cause, I’m just me. I’m not b-beautiful o-or powerful anymore.”
There was a silence. “You’re fine. Like I said, it isn’t about you.” Liet spoke shortly, words and sentences clipped. “Ukraine, by the way, probably won’t survive the winter. And maybe not me either. If you care.”
He looked up. Liet looked down at him. His eyes didn’t look forest green anymore. His wrists were delicate and slim. Feliks felt like a monster for thinking that he liked those girlish wrists.
“I- I didn’t-“
“I know.”
“I-I love-“
“I know.”
-|-
“Us against the world,” he said. His eyes were blue.
Matthew’s eyes were bleary, dull, kind.
“I- I really messed up this time, Mattie,” Alfred had told him. He’d paced around the green carpet. “I don’t think I can fix it this time, Matt. Artie- the United Kingdoms says that they’re going to stop me. They’ve declared war. I don’t know if I can- Mattie, you’ve got to believe me!-“
“It’ll be okay, Alfred,” Matthew had said. “I know you were only trying to stop Ivan. I know. Je te déteste. I know.”
“And it’s not just him, there’s Spain and even France, I must have really messed up if France is allying with Iggy, and even the smaller states are allying too, the parts of the European Union- you’ll help me, Mattie, won’t you? Us against the world? I love you, bro-“
“J’ai ne t’aime jamais. I’ll help you, Alfred.”
His relief was visible, and Alfred hugged his twin and slapped him on the back. “I knew I could count on you, Matt. I kn-know I kind of suck sometimes, but I do love you.”
“You don’t suck that much, Al,” Matt whispered in his ear, his arms going around him smoothly. “Je te déteste.”
He wondered when Matthew would figure out that he wasn’t really that stupid, that he understood French, that he knew what he said to him when he didn’t think he understood.
-|-
Could he really die if he wasn’t really alive?
It was a question that Gilbert had thought about for ages. He could understand being alive back in the time of the Berlin Wall. He’d never wished more that he was dead. But now, he wasn’t even a nation anymore, he was- what exactly was he? Was he like the Italies? Maybe. Or maybe all that had died was the Prussia part of him, he thought. Maybe he was just plain Gilbert now. A freak. A ghost where he didn’t belong.
Gilbert toed the cliff with the combat boots he loved. It was snowing softly around him, against the bleary gray of the winter background, landing on his eyelashes and melting on his cheekbones to form little drops of water. The snow disappeared over the edge, not fast, leisurely. It was a little bemusing to think that the snow was going so slowly, piling up at the bottom. When he jumped, it wouldn’t take ages. He wouldn’t fall slowly in swirls and drift to a soft landing. He’d fall hard and fast and he’d pass the snow to hit the bottom in a few seconds- and then what? He didn’t know. If he jumped.
Reply
But now, now that he was Gilbert and Prussia was dead, the world had moved on without him. Hungary had become something entirely new. France and Spain didn't care to remember him so much anymore. And his little brother (he'd found and raised him) had become someone he'd never met. The world kept on changing and Gil was still stuck in the moment that Prussia died. He was alone in a time not his own, the people and places the same but with changes. It was more disorienting than being someplace entirely new- it was as if he'd simply skipped out on fifty years of his life. And the world hadn't stopped for him.
He leaned over the edge and spat, a show of defiance against the world, and Gilbert turned back to the forest. He tugged his slightly outdated coat closer around him. It was fine if he was alone.
It was a short walk out of the deep woods and back on to a road, where he waited for a park ranger who was more than happy to drive him back to civilization once he informed of who he was or anyway, who he used to be. The trees they passed were evergreen, but still gray. The snow made their needles look dull, lifeless. And then the city wasn't much better. Gilbert said goodbye to the park ranger, and found a taxi, that he rode back to the house that belonged to his younger brother.
Ludwig was home, and Gilbert greeted him with false bravado. A man sat in the armchair, with solemn old eyes and neat hair. "Brudder, this is our new boss."
"Oh?" He held out his hand for the old man to shake. "Welcome to office, sir. Hope you have a good turn."
"I hope so, as well," he said. "I've met Germany, but what do you represent, Mr. Beillschmidt?"
"Prussia," he said, and saw the confusion of the old man. He kept up his cocky grin, though, just so that neither of them would see how much he hated not being recognized. "You can call me Gilbert, though. Or your awesomeness-"
"I'm sorry," the old man finally said, "but I was under the impression Prussia was dead."
Maybe he was.
Gilbert left Ludwig's house and left him to try and explain how he still existed. Maybe he was a ghost. That was a frightening thought, but one that didn't make sense. Well, he was real, wasn't he? He went out to bars and sometimes spoke with his friends and in the meantime he didn't exist. Maybe he was a ghost. His people were gone, his landmass, absorbed, leaving nothing but the human behind him, nothing but the immortal man Gilbert, forever stuck in time.
He wondered if he could still die. Like the Oriental nations. Like Russia and Belarus and India and Nepal and Tibet and maybe Ukraine and Lithuania and America too. Ludwig and Elizaveta and Prissy could all die too, and if that happened, he'd be all alone. He'd be all that was left.
Gilbert left Berlin, that city that had once been so different. The wall was gone, but he saw it every day. He caught a train to Austria.
Prissy was in his house, that he had been so happy to get back, his hands working methodically up and down the keyboard, playing choral scales and major and minor scales; his face relaxed. Gilbert wondered for a second if he would mind him being there; he hoped that he would. He wanted to make Roderich feel undeniable things; anger, hate, pleasure, love. He wanted to be able to change something.
He entered the room and Roddy's playing faltered but he picked back up. Gilbert placed his hands on top of Roderich's; he bent and buried his face in the junction of his neck and shoulder. The music stopped.
"What do you want, Gilbert?"
"You," he mumbled.
Reply
“I think I’m a ghost,” he told him.
“That’s absurd,” Roderich said, without missing a beat. “You’re here, aren’t you?”
It was such a strangely good answer, perfect in a weird way, that it made Gilbert laugh. Roderich rolled over under his arm to berate him, his face still flushed and his eyes still bright. He liked his hair too, when it was like this, full of stray hairs and the odd curl. Roddy’s eyes were narrowed, and his lips were pressed together, so Gil kissed him.
The lamp went out.
Swearing, Gil sat up, ignoring Roddy’s tug on his shoulder, and reached over for the lamp. He tried to turn it on, but nothing happened, and the city was dim too. “Did the power go out or something?”
“Leave it, Gilbert. It’s a bomb drill. This house is safe”
Gil stopped. ”Bomb?”
“Yes, Gil.” Roderich sat up with some struggle, and wiped his eyes. “Now that I’ve joined the war, I need to be ready. America could-“
“You’ve joined?”
“I thought you knew that?”
“No,” Gil whispered. “No. I didn’t.”
Later, when Austria had fallen and Roderich had died, lost to a nuclear war, Gilbert would stand at the edge and think about jumping. Prussia would have done it. Gilbert would not.
Okay. Orders of business, I suppose?
First of all, Toris. Oh my god. I have no idea what happened to him. I guess he was really sad? 0.o
PruAus. Oh, yes. I love PruAus. I needs it. Gilbert's section is kind of less warry. Yeah. It's mainly foreshadowing oops shouldn't have said that.
OH, CANADA. What happened to you, too? Did you catch the Toris disease?
What is Canada saying? I feel like I should let you find that out for yourselves. ;)
Reply
I know you're really concerned about the characterization but I feel it fits for the tone of the story. I know French and I was a bit shocked at how frank Canada was being with his French, but I suppose it is one of those situations.
I can't wait to see how this all plays out, and I really do hope it has at least a semi-happy ending *Weeps forever*
Reply
I was honestly more worried about Canada than Liet. He could have passed as simply being tired of Poland's selfishness?. I-I guess that Canada was just pissed off?
Thank you, Not!OP!
Reply
This fill is just so - gah. It's PERFECT, that's what it is. I love how you've chosen to handle this - no-one's skipping through fluffy clouds, no-one's cuddling their loved ones and saying that the little time they have left is precious. It's so real, and you do get the feeling that they all know everything has changed, forever.
Thank you so much for filling, this is better than I ever imagined!
Reply
Although, Gilbo's part was hard. I was terrified he was going to fall off the cliff. I know I would have orz.
Reply
Reply
I think this fill has the potential to be something good, but it's just lacking... something. It seems to be rambling more than anything at some parts, and especially at the beginning, it's hard to keep track of who's point of view we're following the story from. The jumps between sections are a bit jerky and cut off, like we're suddenly ripped from that scene and placed into the next without a satisfying conclusion. You do a lot of "telling," try giving us some "showing" instead. Let us see how the nations are reacting, how they're dealing with everything that's happening.
Reply
I agree that I sort of get confused between scenes as to what is happening and it takes halfway down the next scene to figure it out. This pulls me /out/ of the story, because I'm too busy trying to sort out /what's/ going on in the first place. I do understand that the mode for this story works better with snippets rather than connected scenes to express the mood of the situation and the tendency of people to remember only vivid snatches in times of great catastrophe. Just make sure you deal with them in such a way that we know where and when we've jumped to and what's going on immediately so we aren't left completely disoriented.
Anyhow, I felt encouraged to comment after seeing this comment and wanted to elaborate on what I felt needed work. Praise is good (and I do think that this piece is full of potential if cleaned up!), but I hope my suggestions are helpful at the very least.
Reply
Reply
This review put the rest of what I couldn't put into words perfectly. Your fill really could be something great, and I'm definitely interested in seeing where it'll go.
Honestly, I originally wasn't even going to read this fill, but after circumstances beyond my control, I read through all 8 parts so far, and you did catch my attention. Please, take this as a learning opportunity, because that's what this was meant to be.
Reply
Yes, I really do agree, actually. I was kind of hasty in writing those parts, and now I wish I could go back and edit them- from Japan to China. If I ever de-anon, I'll definitely change those. Thank you for the con-crit!
Beginnings for me are a rough spot, but I find everyone likes them a different way. Thanks for letting me know.
Reply
(“You killed Yao,” big brother said sternly. “You shouldn’t have done that.”
“It was his fault,” she told him. Big brother looked like he had the last time she’d seen him alive. The way he always had, perfect and handsome and strong and powerful. She wasn’t the same anymore, not like him. She always had that purple knitted hat from Katyusha on now, not that she minded. It was something that her big sister had made for her and her only and it was precious.”Yao killed you.”
“No, he didn’t,” he said in a scolding tone.
She knew that. But it was hard to accept, not something she wanted to accept. She knew that Yao was innocent of her brother’s murder. But of so many other things he was not innocent and Natalia could kill him for those. ”But he’s why you died.”
“Yao didn’t kill me,” Big Brother told her.
Not fair, she thought rebelliously. Not fair not fair not fair. ”You like him more than me.”
Brother nodded. Even in paradise, there was trouble, she’d heard, and this was no paradise but it didn’t lack trouble.)
-|-
The streets of London were empty.
Arthur was alone in the city, that all-important city, wandering amidst broken down shop fronts and trodding in the mush that covered the streets. The snow was melting into a brown dirty mess. Usually at this time, London was alive with people, their feet melting the last traces of winter, but instead the streets were empty and he was empty too. His people were gone.
They’ve fled, his subconscious whispered. They knew he’d done it now.
“When will you learn?” he yelled, the words coming on their own. His hands were shoving, shoving back, and he pushed against his chest as hard as he could. “When will you grow up? You’ve gone and done it now, you blasted fool-“
“I’m sorry,” Alfred had stuttered. “I didn’t mean to!”
“You never do,” he spat. “Never never never do! And you keep on doing it anyway!” You didn’t mean to break my heart, his head had accused, but you did it anyway. “Well, now you’ll pay, lad, I’ll make you pay- Do you know how many people are dead? Do you know how much land is inhabitable? Do you know what you’ve-“
Oh, yes. He’d gone and done it now.
Arthur groaned and ruffled his fringe, hardly able to think of how he’d lost his temper. But it was the right thing to do, he reminded himself. It wasn’t like America could be allowed to rampage as he wanted and if it was up to him to hit some sense into him then so be it, but it was his fault it had come to this. Maybe if he hadn’t ever been so overbearing on him, he wouldn’t have left- but he couldn’t be trusted, Arthur reminded himself. And this was proof. No matter what his citizens thought-
He’d stand alone if that was what it took. Just as he always did, alone alone alone-
”Fine,” America snarled, his eyes suddenly blazing, and England was scared, icy cold filling his bones.Whywhywashesoscared- “If that’s what you want, then FINE! Even though I’m all you’ve got-“
They’d fled because England alone was not enough to stand against America. And they knew that it was England alone; no matter what France and Spain and Austria all said. They knew, they knew that London would come crashing down and so they fled and once again they left him alone.
He caught sight of his own reflection in the windows of the shops lining the street, and winced. His hair, once bright yellow under the sunlight, was grungy, and it made his eyes look less green and more by the way of grey. These were the effects of war on a nation, but it made him sad to see himself in the mirror. That was part of what made him Britain- gold hair, pale skin, green eyes. Arthur turned away from his reflection and started back down the street.
Reply
The gentle sound of water slapping against wood broke the silence. Arthur looked downriver, towards the mouth of the Thames, and squinted until he made out a small rowboat.
“YOO-HOO, IGGY!” the single oarsman called. “HEL-LO~”
“Peter?” he called back down the river, even as he raced towards the boy alone in the Thames. “What are you doing here? You’re not allowed to-“
Peter steered himself over the side and docked against a free patch of land, ignoring Arthur’s scolding. He found himself a rock and anchored the boat’s rope against it. “I’ve decided to come and see you, Iggy! We’ll need to discuss war plans if we’re to fight America, won’t we?”
He had all the innocence of a child. He had just as much innocence as Alfred had once had and oh good lord, Arthur hated it.
”Did you get me a present?” the little boy asked, his eyes the color of the sea. “I made you a picture frame.
Guilt came over him, back then, and he knew that the only reasonable escape from this feeling was to make that boy stop it, stop it. He didn’t like feeling like he’d betrayed him, left his love unreturned and unappreciated. “No.”
“That’s fine, I suppose,” he said. Arthur knew it wasn’t.
“You won’t be fighting America, Peter,” England informed him. “You aren’t even a country.”
“Of course I am, you jerk,” Sealand huffed. He scowled up at him. “We ought to be able to beat him, right? Between you and I and that jerk Austria…”
“Alfred likely doesn’t know you exist, lad. “ Arthur touched Peter’s hair. It was darker than his own, more of a ‘baked bread’ color. And his eyes were so blue. “He’d tear you apart. I’d rather you didn’t get involved.”
“I got involved when you did,” Sealand reminded him. “Even if I have a new daddy now and a mommy too, you’re my brother, and even so… I got involved when you did.”
And if only that wasn’t true.
-|-
(”Poor Alfred,” Ivan has been saying. ”He will be all alone soon.”
Next to him, Kikus been sitting, his legs folded underneath him, for a while. He’s not really quite sure how long it’s been but Yao is on his other side. They’re two of the people that he can’t stand the most and right now he can stand them. It’s quite an odd and unfamiliar feeling and he’s not sure he likes it.
“I would not worry, Kiku,” Yao has said. He touches Kiku’s arm.”He’ll be fine eventually.”
It’s weird, he wants to squirm, but he can’t bring himself to do it. Because he knows how much it hurts Yao every time that he pulls away. It’s something that Kiku can’t help though; something left over from a time when they were not friends. Kiku hasn’t been meaning to pull away, to flinch. He does now, though, and pretends not to see hurt in Yao’s eyes.
“Sooner or later, he’ll join us, da?”
Rome’s been there as well, sometimes watching over the world below with the newly dead, others observing quietly alone, others arguing with Germania. Kiku thinks he’s been dead so long that the matters of the people below them are not so important anymore. He knows how that feels.
Right now, he’s been looking at them for a while, and he finally says; ”It’s hard to let go of the living,” he tells them. ”You’re still young.”
He feels it.)
Reply
“You couldn’t blame me if you tried,” Sadiq informed him, the words slurring from the alcohol. He felt quite a bit drunk and maybe he was too, because the sight of the kid wasn’t pissing him off as much as it usually did. He looked kind of tolerable (maybecute) slumped over the table. “Cshouldn’t…”
“An’- an’-“ He waved his bottle around over the table, almost hitting Sadiq in the face. “Thish tuff is nashty…”
“Better than ouzo,” Sadiq informed him, as if it was vitally important that Herakles knew this. Maybe it was. “K-new,” he sounded out to himself. “Canoe. I miss Japan.”
“Me too,” Herakles agreed, nodding his head. He propped it up against his hand, the other still holding his bottle of raki.
It was the raki messing with his head, probably, he knew this, but Herakles was sitting there, so different from what he’d been when he was just a kid with big sea-colored eyes and curly brown hair. And he missed him. “I mish you too.”
Herakles gave him a dazed stare that was typical of Greece, his face smooth and relaxed, his lips parted. “Sadiq… I want to tell you…” he murmured. He leaned forward over the table and touched his face, running his thumb over the stubble. Sadiq himself didn’t move, afraid to so much as breathe. Then Herakles said; “Your hat looks like a pepper.”
For some reason, he grinned and pulled it off of his head, before sticking it on top of Herakles’ curls. “Yeah, you too, kid!”
“Hm…”
Sadiq almostsmiled when he saw Herakles’ open and innocent face, still almost as young as it once had been, and he was maybetempted to reached over the table himself to finish what Herakles had started. But that was the alcohol trying to speak up and that was never a good plan, so Sadiq changed the subject. “Ya know Iraq?”
“Mm, yeah…”
“He’s… he’s…” Sadiq hiccupped. “Got a chip for America… on his shoulder, geddit?” He burst into raucous laughter.
Across the dimly lit bar table, Herakles hiccupped too, and put his head in his hands. “Ha…”
-|-
“We need more help,” Alfred was saying.
Matthew couldn’t stand him- he hated him, every last bit of him. His words were poisonous, hopelessly innocent so they only hurt more, his actions were gilded, his ‘good intentions’ were nothing but lies. He hated his pretty blue eyes that looked just like his, wide in panic. “Mexico has already joined you, Alfred. We make up the entire continent together.”
“But there aren’t enough resources,” said Alfred. “Even with you…”
Later he’d come back. He’d hand over a letter with Greenland’s name signed on the bottom. Alfred would smile excitedly, that very smile that Matthew hated, and he’d get on the phone. He’d strip and plunder the young island like he did to everyone he came in contact with. The resources would be gone and his own economy would flourish. The North American continent unified as one would be beneath Matthew’s younger twin brother.
-|-
Lukas didn’t want to look Matthias in the eyes.
He’d had enough of watching the man who’d once been king as he fell further and further. Where once he’d been amazing, incredible, someone to look up to and hope to attain, now he was nothing. He was broken, Lukas thought, and he wanted nothing to do with him at all. So he avoided his eyes and his friendly smiles.
It wasn’t like he was alone in these thoughts, either. Tino and Berwald were ashamed to look at what had once been a great kingdom, too. Erikiur pretended not to see him.
Matthias went out and got drunk every chance he had. He roamed in nothing but his boxers, his eyes vacant, his hair mussed. He was stuck somewhere in between the present and the past and Lukas was the only one who dealt with him anymore. He was the only who stood by his side anymore. And he knew better than anyone exactly how stuck he was. He didn’t want to see Matthias’ eyes.
He wandered into Lukas’ office, seeing not the office but somewhere else entirely. His grin was weak, flat, scared.. “You wouldn’t leave me, would you, Lukas?”
“Of course I wouldn’t,” said Lukas.
Reply
Leave a comment