Red Fall: 16/?
anonymous
June 28 2009, 04:55:12 UTC
“Al-alfred?” Toris whispered, the words tumbling from his slightly parted lips. The American met his gaze, shifting slightly back behind his living shield.
“Little patriot, what did I tell you to say?” Ivan prompted gently, pressing a hand along his lower back. The American immediately looked fearful and upset.
“I’m s-sorry, M-mother; I-I didn’t mean to f-forget,” Alfred said as if he were on the verge of tears. Standing as straight as possible, he bowed slightly to the table, “My name is Alfred; it is very nice to meet you.”
Toris felt the warmth returning to his eyes; this-this couldn’t be America. Where was the confident, cocky grin? The sparkling fervor as he introduced himself? This child couldn’t be him; but Ivan’s smile told him otherwise. Said Russian gave Alfred’s head a soft pat.
“That is better; come, sit, little rebel,” Ivan said, folding into his chair at the head of the table. Alfred nodded and sat in the closest seat on elder country’s immediate left, next to Raivis. Serving the American first and then himself, Ivan finally began his meal, prompting the others to do the same. Somehow, the Baltics managed to pick up their utensils, though their minds and eyes wandered to hay-haired man at the edge of the table.
“My Liet, your culinary skills never fail me; you have done an excellent job with the meat as always,” Ivan said, sweetness oozing from him once again.
“Thank you, sir,” Toris said numbly, his fork awkwardly twisted on his plate, “It means a great deal to me that you say so.”
Silence took over as pointless conversation was abandoned; Latvia continuously flicked his gaze sideways, his eyes almost overflowing with tears. Eduard, hoping to remain invisible, methodically ate his meal, his mind racing with possible methods of allowing the American to escape.
A scrape interrupted Lithuania’s thoughts.
Toris realized that Alfred was having a hard time cutting the meal, even though it was moist with flavor, because he only had only one arm to do so. His eyes widened slightly; this was his chance.
“Ah, Mr. America, would you like me to cut your Kotmis Satsivi?” Toris said, hoping his voice was as innocent as he intended. Forks froze half-way to mouths and Ivan’s eyes darkened several shades; he was dangerously close to the line.
Alfred met the Lithuanian’s gaze, his own clouded with thought.
Flash; ‘Mr. America, should I get some coffee for you?’ ‘Ah, yes, coffee would be lovely, Tor-‘
Re: Red Fall: 16/?
anonymous
June 28 2009, 04:58:58 UTC
There was that pain again; remember, it said, remember! The American’s hands began to shake and he pressed one against his now throbbing temples, the tremors reverberating in his skull. He met Toris’s eyes, Alfred’s own filled with the beginnings of unraveling.
“Don’t I-don’t I know you?” the American began slowly, each word carefully spoken, leaning against his hand for support, “There was crying-and, and…coffee? Your…name-T-t-or-”
Before another syllable could be spoken, Alfred’s lips were captured by a very demanding kiss, commanding all attention. Lips parted as Ivan drew away; the words had died before birth.
“You had sauce on your mouth, little patriot; I thought I would get it for you,” the Russian said pleasantly, his hands dancing along the back of Alfred’s neck.
“A-ah, M-mother, wh-what was I talking-?” Press. The American’s eyes briefly widened as he slipped forward, eyelids fluttering closed. Ivan stood, lifting Alfred into his arms; his gaze challenged that of a steel-eyed brunette. Lithuania did not turn away.
“You will not ruin this for me, my Liet, no matter how much the poison in your blood talks and fights. The America you know is dead. You should know, dearest Liet; you killed him.”
A crack.
“No-I-it’s not my-” Toris fumbled, his voice breaking. All of his doubt, guilt came to a head, crushing him from the inside out, “What have I-what have I…”
Ivan smiled as he left the room; the little Baltics had yet to realize the other branch of the plan. He was not only breaking dear Alfred, but he was breaking them too, crushing their remaining strands of hope, snuffing out the last feebly flickering flame. And who would be there when they looked up with tear-filled eyes?
A smirk.
Mother always waits with open arms.
(A-Anon hopes everyone enjoyed! There are still parts to go (somehow XD) so stay tuned! Love for everyone still reading (and commenting *wibbles*)!
((Fun Facts: A-Anon is American and Kotmis Satsivi is a real Russian dish (Roast Chicken with Walnut Sauce).:o A-Anon is a horrible patriot. XD The place Ivan pressed is the carotid artery, which causes fainting from depressing heart rate and blood pressure.))
Re: Red Fall: 16/?
anonymous
June 28 2009, 06:04:18 UTC
That last line gave me shivers.
I have to say, I'm really really not a big fan of Russia always being shown as bat shit insane. But...there's just something about your Russia I like.
I don't think I've commented on this fill yet, but I've followed the updates since the first part and I eagerly await more and hope that there is a happy ending so I don't feel as guilty for enjoying this. I'm a bad America!anon.
Mmmmm Kotmis Satsivi sounds delicious after I googled it. I could ... almost make it! Missing a chicken lol BASHFUL AMERICA IS ADORABLE DAMMIT SO CLOSE LIET! SO CLOSE!
I love how Ivan is struggling to keep things his way because of Liet. At the moment, I have no idea how things will turn out for America and that's what makes this exciting for me. Especially since I didn't specify how I wanted it to end. Will there be a happy ending for Russia, or will America get it? OR BOTH? I DUNNO ¯\(°_0)/¯ (I don't mind any ending) Although at the moment I don't want this end anytime soon. I LOVE THIS AND YOU A-ANON!!!! *throws you internets*
Re: Red Fall: 16/?
anonymous
June 28 2009, 07:45:39 UTC
I'M NOT SURE HOW TO EXPRESS MY JOY...SO I DECIDED TO ABUSE CAPSLOCK, EVEN THOUGH IT PALES IN COMPARISON TO MY TRUE LOVE OF THIS. YES. TIMID!ALFRED IS JUST TOO ADORABLE~
YOUR RUSSIA IS GREAT. TWISTED, BUT STILL...AWARE OF WHAT HE'S DOING, IF THAT MAKES SENSE.
AND I HAVE NO IDEA HOW THIS WILL END, WHICH MAKES IT AWESOMELY SUSPENSEFUL/EXCITING...AND KINDA CRAZY CUZ IT'S SO GOOD SOMETIMES ID ON'T WANT IT TO END...BUT I WANNA KNOW HOW IT DOES D8
I also am now curious to see how other nations would react to this broken!America
Re: Red Fall: 16/?
anonymous
June 28 2009, 08:30:49 UTC
I AM UTTERLY OBSESSED WITH THIS FIC NOW.
I'm too sleepy to coheriently write why I love this fanfiction to the extent that I do, but nonetheless, I adore this fic and I look forward to it's updates throughout the day. Like everyone else said, I LOVE how long this is, and how slowly manipulative you've made Ivan. It's wonderful.
Red Fall: 18/?
anonymous
June 29 2009, 02:47:50 UTC
A-Anon is currently recovering from spasms after reading the comments for the last section; she squealed herself into fainting, but should be back soon (and accepts your internets, broken heart pieces, and pets the abused Caps Lock). Please pardon any errors you find and enjoy! :)
Consciousness ebbed in cautiously, testing the mind’s waters for safety; eyes opened to an orange bathed room, the sky aflame with deep reds and pinks as the sun traded places with the moon. Ivan’s arms were draped around the American's now slight frame, loosely locked to hold Alfred in place. The tall Russian’s body was pressed against his own, spooning in a position usually reserved for the closest of lovers. The straw-blonde felt heat prickle across his cheeks;
He didn’t mind it.
Ivan was always so nice to him; feeding him when his arm shook with pain (‘You must be more careful on the stairs, little patriot,’ Ivan had chuckled), tucking him under the icy sheets-kissing him goodnight…
The heat bristled upwards to his ears and Alfred shifted slightly; right-the kiss…
“You are restless tonight, my rebel,” the elder country hummed from behind him. The vibrations tickled Alfred’s back, warmth spreading outward from his spine; he shivered.
“I’m sorry, M-mother,” Alfred managed, pulling a nearby pillow into his arms as he curled into himself, “I didn’t mean to wake you.” Breath against the back of his neck, roaming fingers across his shoulders; flames licked along his face as the Russian spoke.
“I was merely dozing, Мой милый,” Ivan mouthed along his lower hairline, “Though I was thinking of you…”
“A-aah,” the American gasped quietly, the chills rapidly breeding. Suddenly, strange words fell from his mouth.
“N-no-s-stop…” Alfred stuttered before he could think; his eyes widened in shock as he felt Ivan’s hands tense. Why-why did he say that? The touches didn’t feel bad-just tickly and hot; why was part of him saying this was wrong?
“I see.”
The blonde felt the large hands withdraw and the bed shift as Ivan stood; the American looked up, eyes full of confusion and anxiety. He’d done something wrong, hadn’t he?
No-No! THIS is wrong; don’t fall for it!
He’d messed up again, hadn’t he?
He’s the one messing with you!
Mother-mother might not love him anymore!
He doesn’t deserve your love! He’s a monster-
“Mother-I, um…I-I mean,” Alfred stammered, his internal war making his head pound. Ivan had made his way towards the door, pausing as he gripped the curved handle.
“Mother knows, little rebel; Mother realizes that you are just like all of his other children. They take from Mother, but give nothing back. They will give nothing, take everything; but they will not love Mother. Just like my Liet and his brothers; they will not accept Mother’s love.”
Red Fall: 19/?
anonymous
June 29 2009, 02:56:00 UTC
A beat of silence; the Russian had to be very careful now. This was his chance, the moment to cement all of his work in place; however, it would only work if the brat was willing…
Counting to five, Ivan turned the handle, making a show of leaving.
“Wait! I-I-Mother, I’m sorry! Please don’t leave!” a voice said, the tone choked with tears. Ivan smirked; this was going well. Wiping the smile from his face, he turned, facade composed into the most hurt expression he could muster.
“My patriot, you must be fully aware of what you say,” the Ivan said, slowly returning to the bed. He wiped the unshed drops from Alfred’s eyes, cupping the side of his face, “When you say you love Mother, Mother will give you his love in return; all of it.”
Alfred’s mind raced, his heart pumping loudly in his ears. He loved Mother; he was sure of it. Then why-why did he hesitate? It was that little voice, the one that told him he had to remember something…Well-well, what did it know?! It was wrong! Mother cared about him! Loved him!
No! Alfred, you're losing yourself! Get it together! Don’t let him win!
Layer by layer, abandoned; pushed to the side to make room for a re-birth, to rise from the ashes and breathe new air…
He was finding himself, Alfred reasoned, the true self he always wanted. Right? He took Ivan’s hand, shy and unsure; cheeks burning, he awkwardly brushed a kiss across the knuckles, staring into the sheets.
“I understand,” a deep breath; the Russian waited patiently, mentally screaming ‘say it, say, say it-‘
“I-I l-love you, Mother.”
…and from the ashes, the fledging was ensnared by the darkness, a blindfold of false light wrapped securely around its head.
A smile; the violet eyes shining with happiness, Alfred thought.
Half-lidded pools of blue; a love too innocent not to taint, Ivan thought.
“No; it is Ivan now, Мой любимый,” he whispered with just the right amount of softness, playing his features perfectly. He pushed Alfred down against the mattress, straddling the younger nation’s form.
“You are certain?” he questioned, for show rather than actual concern. Arching his back, Alfred met his lips in a tender, chaste kiss, feelings of insecurity and a fumbling affection leaking through.
Oh, this was precious.
Ivan smiled into the kiss, running his tongue along his captive’s bottom lip. Alfred’s mind went blank, a stray tear streaking from his eye, something neither party noticed; it was the last stand of the old Alfred, the America that then lost himself in the warmth, and drowned in the artificial feelings.
The Russian pressed harder, leaving the younger country breathless beneath him as he ran his hands along Alfred’s body. The American gasped as Ivan roughly pressed into his arousal with a well-placed knee, the violet-eyed man taking this chance to ravage his charge’s mouth.
No place was left untouched, unexplored: Ivan’s teeth grazed the other’s collarbone, leaving angry red marks as he sucked and pinched the flesh, earning breathy moans and whimpers. Glasses askew, the younger country’s face was flushed with pleasure, eyes glazed and chest heaving. However, Alfred’s stomach fluttered nervously, the butterflies dancing in his breast.
“Do not worry, little one; I will take care of you,” Ivan purred into his skin, as if Alfred was completely transparent. Taking a gulping breath, the American leaned back into the pillows, eyes closed, and smiled timidly.
Red Fall: 20/?
anonymous
June 29 2009, 03:07:44 UTC
Toris compulsively kneaded his hands, his mind flickering back to dinner. It had taken both of his brothers to calm him, and even then it had taken nearly half-an-hour.
He didn’t used to be like this.
He used to be able to handle life with Ivan; the constant mental barrage, the violent beatings paired with gentle touches, complete isolation for weeks at a time; he’d made it through it all, his tears having run dry after only a few days. Then why-why was this any different?
Because it was America.
The ‘Land of the Free’ and ‘The Home of the Brave,’ the country that always leant a helping hand, that built up its own enemies so they could be free too. The Lithuanian felt his hands involuntary clench.
Weren’t he and his brothers enough to push around? No; he was never satisfied, not until he got exactly what he wanted, not a breath less.
But Alfred’s realization at dinner left Toris hopeful, gave him a reason to believe that Alfred was twisting himself away from Ivan’s grasp. A smile blossomed on his face; he was so glad! The American would finally be able to escape and give the Russian what he truly deserved.
Tucking this thought away, the brunette gently rapped against the door to Alfred’s room; his brothers had speculated that Ivan was out (since they hadn’t seen him for several hours) and the only place the other could be was in his room.
No answer.
Eyebrows arching in surprise, Toris tested the knob, and, finding it unlocked, let the door swing wide. The room was blanketed in darkness, the moon casting pale figures across the bed and floor. Fumbling for the light, the Lithuanian tried to discern shapes in the inky black.
“Alfred? Are you asleep? You didn’t get much dinner, so I thought I’d-”
Flick.
Skin, everywhere; tangled limbs and rumpled sheets. The dirty, sultry smell of sex and sweat permeated the air, causing Toris’s stomach to contract painfully.
“Ah, my Liet; you are a little late to be joining, da?”
Lips trembling, the Lithuanian slowly met the violet irises of Ivan, who was no longer bothering to hide his shadow edged smile. Toris’s whole body was vibrating as the Russian trailed a single finger along the contours of Alfred’s motionless form.
“I-Ivan,” the brunette choked out, forgetting his formalities, “you-you didn’t…”
“Hm? Didn’t what, little Liet?” At this moment, Alfred stirred and Lithuania’s breath caught in his chest. The American blinked sleepily as he leaned against Ivan’s sitting shape. Nuzzling his captor’s neck, Alfred planted a shy kiss on his throat; he hadn’t even noticed Toris in the doorway.
“Ivan,” Alfred whispered, his voice still warm with afterglow, the thin sheets protecting his modesty shifting, “I love you.”
As the Russian held younger country, whose head was now resting comfortably resting in the well-placed crook, he smiled at the trembling man, the smirk vile and sick.
Toris suddenly felt light-headed and ill; he faintly felt his hand cover his mouth, bile at the back of his throat, and his mind was beginning to swim. Wait-Ivan was mouthing something-
I win.
The Lithuanian barely felt it as he crumpled to the floor.
((A-Anon here! First off, I love all of you guys for your awesome comments! <3 Second, I think that tommorrow's update will be the last (unless the ending goes really long XD); I'm not trying to cut you guys off, but the story is ready to be wrapped up (and you all are too good for filler :3). Anyway, comments and criticism are always appreciated! I think you'll like the last part. ;D
P.S.- A-Anon has never written (almost) smut before; she blushed the entire time. XD
Re: Red Fall: 20/?
anonymous
June 29 2009, 03:25:14 UTC
*faints with Liet... for completely different reasons.* This... This is just. Words can't describe it. Or they can, but there's a reason I don't fill these things XD
Also Recaptcha: Speckled Heatfelt... *cries while hugging Alfred*
Re: Red Fall: 20/?
anonymous
June 29 2009, 03:32:44 UTC
OH SHITTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT---- THIS HAS BECOME MY CURRENT MOST FAVORITE FANFIC ON THIS WHOLE KINK THREAD. CAPS CANNOT EXPRESS MY REACTION TO THIS. I-I-I'M SOOO INCOHERENT RIGHT NOW ;W; HERE! HAVE MY SOUL!
Re: Red Fall: 20/?
anonymous
June 29 2009, 04:16:59 UTC
OP is sad to hear that tomorrow would be the end of this AWESOME story D: (I hope ending will end up being really long lol) but like HOLY CRAP ALMOST SMUT IS INCREDIBLY HOT (my imagination ran with it) Luck is with Ivan right now poor Liet, it seems every time he finds hope again he gets slam right back down. I do wonder how this'll end. Will Liet get to be a hero and kick ass? xD
“Little patriot, what did I tell you to say?” Ivan prompted gently, pressing a hand along his lower back. The American immediately looked fearful and upset.
“I’m s-sorry, M-mother; I-I didn’t mean to f-forget,” Alfred said as if he were on the verge of tears. Standing as straight as possible, he bowed slightly to the table, “My name is Alfred; it is very nice to meet you.”
Toris felt the warmth returning to his eyes; this-this couldn’t be America. Where was the confident, cocky grin? The sparkling fervor as he introduced himself? This child couldn’t be him; but Ivan’s smile told him otherwise. Said Russian gave Alfred’s head a soft pat.
“That is better; come, sit, little rebel,” Ivan said, folding into his chair at the head of the table. Alfred nodded and sat in the closest seat on elder country’s immediate left, next to Raivis. Serving the American first and then himself, Ivan finally began his meal, prompting the others to do the same. Somehow, the Baltics managed to pick up their utensils, though their minds and eyes wandered to hay-haired man at the edge of the table.
“My Liet, your culinary skills never fail me; you have done an excellent job with the meat as always,” Ivan said, sweetness oozing from him once again.
“Thank you, sir,” Toris said numbly, his fork awkwardly twisted on his plate, “It means a great deal to me that you say so.”
Silence took over as pointless conversation was abandoned; Latvia continuously flicked his gaze sideways, his eyes almost overflowing with tears. Eduard, hoping to remain invisible, methodically ate his meal, his mind racing with possible methods of allowing the American to escape.
A scrape interrupted Lithuania’s thoughts.
Toris realized that Alfred was having a hard time cutting the meal, even though it was moist with flavor, because he only had only one arm to do so. His eyes widened slightly; this was his chance.
“Ah, Mr. America, would you like me to cut your Kotmis Satsivi?” Toris said, hoping his voice was as innocent as he intended. Forks froze half-way to mouths and Ivan’s eyes darkened several shades; he was dangerously close to the line.
Alfred met the Lithuanian’s gaze, his own clouded with thought.
Flash; ‘Mr. America, should I get some coffee for you?’ ‘Ah, yes, coffee would be lovely, Tor-‘
Reply
“Don’t I-don’t I know you?” the American began slowly, each word carefully spoken, leaning against his hand for support, “There was crying-and, and…coffee? Your…name-T-t-or-”
Before another syllable could be spoken, Alfred’s lips were captured by a very demanding kiss, commanding all attention. Lips parted as Ivan drew away; the words had died before birth.
“You had sauce on your mouth, little patriot; I thought I would get it for you,” the Russian said pleasantly, his hands dancing along the back of Alfred’s neck.
“A-ah, M-mother, wh-what was I talking-?” Press. The American’s eyes briefly widened as he slipped forward, eyelids fluttering closed. Ivan stood, lifting Alfred into his arms; his gaze challenged that of a steel-eyed brunette. Lithuania did not turn away.
“You will not ruin this for me, my Liet, no matter how much the poison in your blood talks and fights. The America you know is dead. You should know, dearest Liet; you killed him.”
A crack.
“No-I-it’s not my-” Toris fumbled, his voice breaking. All of his doubt, guilt came to a head, crushing him from the inside out, “What have I-what have I…”
Ivan smiled as he left the room; the little Baltics had yet to realize the other branch of the plan. He was not only breaking dear Alfred, but he was breaking them too, crushing their remaining strands of hope, snuffing out the last feebly flickering flame. And who would be there when they looked up with tear-filled eyes?
A smirk.
Mother always waits with open arms.
(A-Anon hopes everyone enjoyed! There are still parts to go (somehow XD) so stay tuned! Love for everyone still reading (and commenting *wibbles*)!
((Fun Facts: A-Anon is American and Kotmis Satsivi is a real Russian dish (Roast Chicken with Walnut Sauce).:o A-Anon is a horrible patriot. XD The place Ivan pressed is the carotid artery, which causes fainting from depressing heart rate and blood pressure.))
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I have to say, I'm really really not a big fan of Russia always being shown as bat shit insane. But...there's just something about your Russia I like.
I don't think I've commented on this fill yet, but I've followed the updates since the first part and I eagerly await more and hope that there is a happy ending so I don't feel as guilty for enjoying this. I'm a bad America!anon.
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BASHFUL AMERICA IS ADORABLE DAMMIT
SO CLOSE LIET! SO CLOSE!
I love how Ivan is struggling to keep things his way because of Liet. At the moment, I have no idea how things will turn out for America and that's what makes this exciting for me. Especially since I didn't specify how I wanted it to end. Will there be a happy ending for Russia, or will America get it? OR BOTH? I DUNNO ¯\(°_0)/¯ (I don't mind any ending) Although at the moment I don't want this end anytime soon. I LOVE THIS AND YOU A-ANON!!!! *throws you internets*
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YOUR RUSSIA IS GREAT. TWISTED, BUT STILL...AWARE OF WHAT HE'S DOING, IF THAT MAKES SENSE.
AND I HAVE NO IDEA HOW THIS WILL END, WHICH MAKES IT AWESOMELY SUSPENSEFUL/EXCITING...AND KINDA CRAZY CUZ IT'S SO GOOD SOMETIMES ID ON'T WANT IT TO END...BUT I WANNA KNOW HOW IT DOES D8
I also am now curious to see how other nations would react to this broken!America
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Liet, fight on, please. PLEASE.
...Alfred is really adorable though. This anon is also a horrible patriot.
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I'm too sleepy to coheriently write why I love this fanfiction to the extent that I do, but nonetheless, I adore this fic and I look forward to it's updates throughout the day. Like everyone else said, I LOVE how long this is, and how slowly manipulative you've made Ivan. It's wonderful.
Reply
Consciousness ebbed in cautiously, testing the mind’s waters for safety; eyes opened to an orange bathed room, the sky aflame with deep reds and pinks as the sun traded places with the moon. Ivan’s arms were draped around the American's now slight frame, loosely locked to hold Alfred in place. The tall Russian’s body was pressed against his own, spooning in a position usually reserved for the closest of lovers. The straw-blonde felt heat prickle across his cheeks;
He didn’t mind it.
Ivan was always so nice to him; feeding him when his arm shook with pain (‘You must be more careful on the stairs, little patriot,’ Ivan had chuckled), tucking him under the icy sheets-kissing him goodnight…
The heat bristled upwards to his ears and Alfred shifted slightly; right-the kiss…
“You are restless tonight, my rebel,” the elder country hummed from behind him. The vibrations tickled Alfred’s back, warmth spreading outward from his spine; he shivered.
“I’m sorry, M-mother,” Alfred managed, pulling a nearby pillow into his arms as he curled into himself, “I didn’t mean to wake you.” Breath against the back of his neck, roaming fingers across his shoulders; flames licked along his face as the Russian spoke.
“I was merely dozing, Мой милый,” Ivan mouthed along his lower hairline, “Though I was thinking of you…”
“A-aah,” the American gasped quietly, the chills rapidly breeding. Suddenly, strange words fell from his mouth.
“N-no-s-stop…” Alfred stuttered before he could think; his eyes widened in shock as he felt Ivan’s hands tense. Why-why did he say that? The touches didn’t feel bad-just tickly and hot; why was part of him saying this was wrong?
“I see.”
The blonde felt the large hands withdraw and the bed shift as Ivan stood; the American looked up, eyes full of confusion and anxiety. He’d done something wrong, hadn’t he?
No-No! THIS is wrong; don’t fall for it!
He’d messed up again, hadn’t he?
He’s the one messing with you!
Mother-mother might not love him anymore!
He doesn’t deserve your love! He’s a monster-
“Mother-I, um…I-I mean,” Alfred stammered, his internal war making his head pound. Ivan had made his way towards the door, pausing as he gripped the curved handle.
“Mother knows, little rebel; Mother realizes that you are just like all of his other children. They take from Mother, but give nothing back. They will give nothing, take everything; but they will not love Mother. Just like my Liet and his brothers; they will not accept Mother’s love.”
Reply
Counting to five, Ivan turned the handle, making a show of leaving.
“Wait! I-I-Mother, I’m sorry! Please don’t leave!” a voice said, the tone choked with tears. Ivan smirked; this was going well. Wiping the smile from his face, he turned, facade composed into the most hurt expression he could muster.
“My patriot, you must be fully aware of what you say,” the Ivan said, slowly returning to the bed. He wiped the unshed drops from Alfred’s eyes, cupping the side of his face, “When you say you love Mother, Mother will give you his love in return; all of it.”
Alfred’s mind raced, his heart pumping loudly in his ears. He loved Mother; he was sure of it. Then why-why did he hesitate? It was that little voice, the one that told him he had to remember something…Well-well, what did it know?! It was wrong! Mother cared about him! Loved him!
No! Alfred, you're losing yourself! Get it together! Don’t let him win!
Layer by layer, abandoned; pushed to the side to make room for a re-birth, to rise from the ashes and breathe new air…
He was finding himself, Alfred reasoned, the true self he always wanted. Right? He took Ivan’s hand, shy and unsure; cheeks burning, he awkwardly brushed a kiss across the knuckles, staring into the sheets.
“I understand,” a deep breath; the Russian waited patiently, mentally screaming ‘say it, say, say it-‘
“I-I l-love you, Mother.”
…and from the ashes, the fledging was ensnared by the darkness, a blindfold of false light wrapped securely around its head.
A smile; the violet eyes shining with happiness, Alfred thought.
Half-lidded pools of blue; a love too innocent not to taint, Ivan thought.
“No; it is Ivan now, Мой любимый,” he whispered with just the right amount of softness, playing his features perfectly. He pushed Alfred down against the mattress, straddling the younger nation’s form.
“You are certain?” he questioned, for show rather than actual concern. Arching his back, Alfred met his lips in a tender, chaste kiss, feelings of insecurity and a fumbling affection leaking through.
Oh, this was precious.
Ivan smiled into the kiss, running his tongue along his captive’s bottom lip. Alfred’s mind went blank, a stray tear streaking from his eye, something neither party noticed; it was the last stand of the old Alfred, the America that then lost himself in the warmth, and drowned in the artificial feelings.
The Russian pressed harder, leaving the younger country breathless beneath him as he ran his hands along Alfred’s body. The American gasped as Ivan roughly pressed into his arousal with a well-placed knee, the violet-eyed man taking this chance to ravage his charge’s mouth.
No place was left untouched, unexplored: Ivan’s teeth grazed the other’s collarbone, leaving angry red marks as he sucked and pinched the flesh, earning breathy moans and whimpers. Glasses askew, the younger country’s face was flushed with pleasure, eyes glazed and chest heaving. However, Alfred’s stomach fluttered nervously, the butterflies dancing in his breast.
“Do not worry, little one; I will take care of you,” Ivan purred into his skin, as if Alfred was completely transparent. Taking a gulping breath, the American leaned back into the pillows, eyes closed, and smiled timidly.
Alfred believed him.
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He didn’t used to be like this.
He used to be able to handle life with Ivan; the constant mental barrage, the violent beatings paired with gentle touches, complete isolation for weeks at a time; he’d made it through it all, his tears having run dry after only a few days. Then why-why was this any different?
Because it was America.
The ‘Land of the Free’ and ‘The Home of the Brave,’ the country that always leant a helping hand, that built up its own enemies so they could be free too. The Lithuanian felt his hands involuntary clench.
Weren’t he and his brothers enough to push around? No; he was never satisfied, not until he got exactly what he wanted, not a breath less.
But Alfred’s realization at dinner left Toris hopeful, gave him a reason to believe that Alfred was twisting himself away from Ivan’s grasp. A smile blossomed on his face; he was so glad! The American would finally be able to escape and give the Russian what he truly deserved.
Tucking this thought away, the brunette gently rapped against the door to Alfred’s room; his brothers had speculated that Ivan was out (since they hadn’t seen him for several hours) and the only place the other could be was in his room.
No answer.
Eyebrows arching in surprise, Toris tested the knob, and, finding it unlocked, let the door swing wide. The room was blanketed in darkness, the moon casting pale figures across the bed and floor. Fumbling for the light, the Lithuanian tried to discern shapes in the inky black.
“Alfred? Are you asleep? You didn’t get much dinner, so I thought I’d-”
Flick.
Skin, everywhere; tangled limbs and rumpled sheets. The dirty, sultry smell of sex and sweat permeated the air, causing Toris’s stomach to contract painfully.
“Ah, my Liet; you are a little late to be joining, da?”
Lips trembling, the Lithuanian slowly met the violet irises of Ivan, who was no longer bothering to hide his shadow edged smile. Toris’s whole body was vibrating as the Russian trailed a single finger along the contours of Alfred’s motionless form.
“I-Ivan,” the brunette choked out, forgetting his formalities, “you-you didn’t…”
“Hm? Didn’t what, little Liet?” At this moment, Alfred stirred and Lithuania’s breath caught in his chest. The American blinked sleepily as he leaned against Ivan’s sitting shape. Nuzzling his captor’s neck, Alfred planted a shy kiss on his throat; he hadn’t even noticed Toris in the doorway.
“Ivan,” Alfred whispered, his voice still warm with afterglow, the thin sheets protecting his modesty shifting, “I love you.”
As the Russian held younger country, whose head was now resting comfortably resting in the well-placed crook, he smiled at the trembling man, the smirk vile and sick.
Toris suddenly felt light-headed and ill; he faintly felt his hand cover his mouth, bile at the back of his throat, and his mind was beginning to swim. Wait-Ivan was mouthing something-
I win.
The Lithuanian barely felt it as he crumpled to the floor.
((A-Anon here! First off, I love all of you guys for your awesome comments! <3 Second, I think that tommorrow's update will be the last (unless the ending goes really long XD); I'm not trying to cut you guys off, but the story is ready to be wrapped up (and you all are too good for filler :3). Anyway, comments and criticism are always appreciated! I think you'll like the last part. ;D
P.S.- A-Anon has never written (almost) smut before; she blushed the entire time. XD
Translations:
Мой милый- my sweet (boy), Мой любимый- my love)
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This...
This is just. Words can't describe it. Or they can, but there's a reason I don't fill these things XD
Also Recaptcha: Speckled Heatfelt... *cries while hugging Alfred*
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THIS HAS BECOME MY CURRENT MOST FAVORITE FANFIC ON THIS WHOLE KINK THREAD.
CAPS CANNOT EXPRESS MY REACTION TO THIS. I-I-I'M SOOO INCOHERENT RIGHT NOW ;W;
HERE!
HAVE MY SOUL!
<3333333333
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...which means I can't wait for the next chapters. Thank you for writing this... this is such an emotional piece!
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but like HOLY CRAP
ALMOST SMUT IS INCREDIBLY HOT (my imagination ran with it)
Luck is with Ivan right now
poor Liet, it seems every time he finds hope again he gets slam right back down. I do wonder how this'll end. Will Liet get to be a hero and kick ass? xD
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