Just Under My Skin [1b/?]
anonymous
July 3 2009, 05:10:24 UTC
"Well? Wha' is it?"
A little smile--more like a smirk--wormed its way onto Ludwig's face. The expression on his brother always unsettled Gilbert. But he did not make a fuss, only raised an eyebrow as Ludwig stood and walked to the bookcase, placing Die Verwandlung back on a shelf.
"Bruder," Ludwig began, trailing a finger through the dust on the bookcase. "Are you familiar with the act of cannibalism? It's the eating of human flesh, practiced by another human."
"I know wha' fuckin' cannibalism is, W'st."
Ludwig seemed to ignore him, as he continued on. "It's been practiced as a ritual in many different cultures. Considered a, 'societal norm,' I suppose. It's even mentioned in the Bible, during the siege of Samaria, where two women agreed to eat each other's children. One mother cooked her child for the other to eat, but the second refused to--"
"W'st, get to the fuckin' point."
The younger German frowned, a bit disgruntled at the interruption to his impropotu lecture. He coddled the Prussian, nonetheless, and begin to explain.
"You've tasted blood before, Gilbert?"
"Uh, yeah." Gilbert threw Ludwig a look. "Plenty o' times, in battle."
"Mm, of course." Ludwig turned to face Gilbert fully, that freakish little smile back on his face.
Walking purposefully toward him, Ludwig stopped just short of Gilbert's chair, clicking his boots together as if he were reporting for military duty.
With Ludwig towering over him, Gilbert began to feel rather small (inferior, almost, and that would not do). He glared at his brother as the blond bent at the waist, saying very quietly next to Gilbert's ear, "After drinking all that blood, haven't you ever wondered what the flesh tasted like?"
"The fuck?" Gilbert stood abruptly, pushing Ludwig out of his personal space. "The hell are you on about?"
Ludwig laced his fingers together, looking his brother patiently.
"The game I'm proposing, is one that involves cannibalism. I just wanted to make sure you were comfortable with that first, Bruder."
Gilbert stared at Ludwig as if he had just bit off Italy's head (and, well, if Ludwig got what he was now asking for...). Ludwig, however, took his brother's silence as a sign to continue explaining his little 'plan.'
"The rules are very simple. The two of us will wrestle, fight--something you've been complaining the lack thereof--and whomever wins gets to eat the other."
"...Have I ever told you that you suck at making jokes?"
"I didn't mean for it to be funny."
Gilbert would admit; he was curious. This new proposition, this new promise of the violence he craved...it made him excited. But even in his foggy, slightly drunken mind, he knew this wasn't like his brother. This was something that damn psycho Ivan would come up with--not reserved, calm Ludwig.
“What the hell is wrong with you t’night, West?” Gilbert made an effort to enunciate, hoping that would make him sound more serious.
Ludwig took a deep breath. “There has been an agreement.”
“What? The unification? Yeah, I know.”
“Yes. Our bosses want us to...well, for lack of better phrasing, ‘become one.’”
Gilbert scoffed. “Don’t you go ‘round quoting that creepy bastard Ivan.”
The corners of Ludwig’s mouth quirked upward again. “I didn’t mean to offend you.”
“Uh huh. So what does this crap have to do with cannibalism, or whatever, any way?”
Ludwig wandered over to the couch again, but didn’t sit. “If we are to unify...and become one nation...wouldn’t that imply that only one of must die?”
“Uh.” Actually, Gilbert hadn’t thought of it that way at all.
“I thought...” Ah, and here was the brother he knew. Ludwig paused for a good minute, and Gilbert didn’t rush him. He wanted to know. He wanted to make sure Ludwig was serious, if he really intended to try and kill him.
Die Verwandlung is the German title for Franz Kafka's The Metamorphosis.
Just Under My Skin [1c + 2/?]
anonymous
July 3 2009, 05:14:47 UTC
Coughing into his fist, Ludwig went on. “I thought this was be the best solution, to all problems between us. If I lose, you eat me and the unification is complete. Then you can do whatever you wish as the country of Germany. If you lose, I will devour you, and you...”
Gilbert crossed his arms. “I’ll what, West?”
Ludwig ran a hand over his face. He was acting inconsistently, irrationally. Gilbert watched him warily, curiosity and anticipation growing.
“You’ve often said you’re unhappy with your life here, with me. If you are dead, you wouldn’t have to deal with it any more.”
Gilbert stared hard at Ludwig, and the announced, “That is the shittiest, most fucked up idea I have ever heard of.”
Ludwig sighed heavily, and allowed himself to drop onto the sofa. "I thought you'd of agreed."
"Seriously?"
"I obviously judged your character wrongly, I'm sorry."
He was too tired and drunk to come up with a proper response, so Gilbert settled for staring at Ludwig incredulously. Finally, he shook his head and stormed off to his bedroom, slamming the door (and locking it. If his brother was going batshit again, he didn't want to become the first victim.).
----
Gilbert tossed and turned on his bed. Even though the beer had made him drowsy, try as he might he couldn't do any better than a restless sleep.
What Ludwig had proposed kept playing his mind. What he wanted...it was insane, the idea of cannibalism, but.
But Gilbert still craved the kind of violence he knew this would bring--even if he was going to be committing it against his brother--and he, and he--
Gilbert growled, ripping his blanket off, and stormed out of his room.
He knocked loudly on Ludwig's door, but didn't receive on answer. When he finally just turned the knob, the bed was bare, and so he stalked the house for his brother, eventually finding him passed out on the couch.
Picking a pillow up from one of the easy chairs, Gilbert hit Ludwig in the head with it.
"Wake up, you bastard." When Ludwig began to sit up tiredly, Gilbert hit him again. "Wake up."
"Was?" He asked, irritably.
"You were right about me," Gilbert threw the pillow at him. "I want to try this." I need to.
Ludwig blinked owlishly, and glanced at the clock on the coffee table. "Now?"
"No shit, Sherlock."
"I--" Ludwig stood, and tried to slick some of his hair back. "Are you serious?"
"Yes."
"Are you serious?"
Gilbert fixed his brother with the steeliest gaze he could muster. "Yes. I am."
"...All right."
Leaning down, Ludwig suddenly grabbed the lamp from the table, and swung it hard at Gilbert's head.
He didn't duck fast enough and caught most of the lamp, the porcelain nearly shattering upon impact. Once he fell to the ground, Ludwig was on top of him in an instant, punching him hard in the face.
They grappled, Gilbert kicking him off and into the side of the sofa. He grabbed Ludwig's throat with one hand, roughly, squeezing tight and pressing his thumb against the jugular.
"That military training was good for you," Gilbert grinned, pressing harder, and feeling the rush, rush, rush, of his warrior blood.
"You're right." And then Ludwig grabbed Gilbert's free arm, pushing against his chest and pulled, until there was a pop! and he pulled Gilbert's shoulder right out of its socket.
Gilbert loosened his grip, cursing, and Ludwig quickly pushed him back down, punching and hitting and kicking more, until he wrapped his own hands around Gilbert's neck.
"I win." And there was a little smirk to go with it.
"Yeah, right," Gilbert began to say, but Ludwig pulled hard on his dislocated arm, causing him to cry out.
Ludwig situated Gilbert on his broad back, and carried him to their staircase, up into the rarely used attic.
Just Under My Skin [3a/?]
anonymous
July 3 2009, 05:18:47 UTC
Even though Gilbert had kicked and squirmed in Ludwig's embrace, trying to gain the upper hand again, Ludwig still managed to make it up the stairs, dropping his brother into a low chair with a dull thud.
Quickly, Ludwig snatched up a length of rope from the grimy floor, binding Gilbert's calves to the chair's legs.
Gilbert scoffed, but didn't try to stop Ludwig. "I thought all of this was supposed to be, y'know, voluntary?" The tone was almost mocking.
"I won't run away." Real warriors like him didn't run away.
"Of course." Ludwig pulled his knot tight, pushing himself back up into a standing position. "This is to keep your movements limited. It just makes things...easier."
Following Ludwig with his gaze, Gilbert saw him carefully pull a dark blue sheet off a long table in the corner of the room.
The table was covered in knives.
"Crap, West, you actually prepared for this?"
"I told you," there was smugness, "I was sure you would say yes."
Gilbert watched with baited breath as Ludwig inspected his knives, hefting them in his hands, testing their weight, how sharp the edge was.
He chose one of the newer ones, rather slender, and kneeled beside Gilbert.
"You've always been so good to me," Ludwig placed a gloved hand at the back of Gilbert's throat, and leaned in close. "I'm sorry we never spent much time together..."
"Yeah, well, you always have Feliciano for that, right?" Gilbert winced at how strained his voice sound, even as Ludwig squeezed his neck, his other hand lightly dragging the knife up and down the Prussian's thigh.
"Mmm."
Ludwig tightened his grip on the knife suddenly, and drove it hard into Gilbert's leg.
"Shit!" Gilbert thrashed as pain coursed through him, accidentally causing Ludwig to push the knife deeper.
"Shh, shh, hush now. You'll wake the neighbors if you scream so loud."
Gilbert managed to keep his mouth closed when Ludwig twisted and pulled the knife out, bringing it to his lips. His tongue darted out to lick the blood, blue eyes locking with red all the while.
"Sorry." It was all sarcasm and spite, but Ludwig didn't seem to mind much, and that creepy little smile found its way back to his face.
"Don't worry about it, Bruder. If we need to, I can make a gag for you."
"How sweet of you, West."
Ludwig's face fell slightly, and he sighed. "You can still back out of this. You can."
Gilbert snorted loudly, and let his head fall against the back of his chair. He heard Ludwig chuckle quietly, and saw him reach out for Gilbert's hand, lifting it up close to his face.
"Let's really start, then." And then he took Gilbert's middle finger into his mouth, sucking.
Starting a bit at the sudden sensation of Ludwig licking his finger, he stared down at his brother. As the blond continued, Gilbert felt a slight warmth spread through his body, and despite how utterly wrong the whole situation was, Ludwig's mouth was hot, as was his tongue, and wow, this felt nice--
Gilbert managed to catch himself--what the hell am I thinking this is my sibling,mein kleiner Bruderand--just before Ludwig bit down, hard, pulling on his finger.
"Mmf!" He managed to stifle a yell, even as Ludwig bit down again, and again, and again, tearing and ripping the flesh, blood leaking out.
Finally, Ludwig let go, licking his stained lips. "Your flesh is tougher than I thought. It looks like I'll have to cut it with a blade."
Just Under My Skin [3b/?]
anonymous
July 3 2009, 05:28:01 UTC
ffff nobody saw my deanon, nope.
They finally pulled away, trailing crimson-tinted saliva. Ludwig, still leaning on his brother's shoulder, pushed his severed hand into his face.
"Would you like to try?" He breathed the question out, smiling just a little.
Gilbert wanted to say, "none for me, no thank you," but instead he opened his mouth, and bit down the heel of his hand ("More meat there," he heard Ludwig say), the skin tough and slightly sweaty.
When it was clear Gilbert wasn't able to bite off more than a small chunk, Ludwig took the hand back.
He surveyed the piece of meat (just like when they were in the butchers, appraising the meat they planned to buy for dinner), and then said, "Perhaps I should try cooking it."
"Maybe. Yeah, sure, whatever. Cut off my other hand, put it in a stew."
"Later," It sounded like a promise. Ludwig turned on his heel and headed out of the room, Gilbert assumed to the kitchen.
It was a good deal of time later--an hour, or less, he wasn't even sure at this point--before his brother returned, and Gilbert already felt slightly woozy and lightheaded from blood loss.
Ludwig looked...sullen, almost, holding an old book with both hands.
"I burned it," He explained, shutting and locking the attic door behind him. "Though Berlitz seemed to like it just fine."
Gilbert laughed a little, figuring Ludwig was trying to make some sort of joke. It was a little hard to concentrate now, he found.
Ludwig stood beside his chair once more, and opened the book he held.
"You said you enjoyed Kafka's work."
"What?" Gilbert blinked, waiting for his mind to catch up with the question. "Yeah, I guess'o."
"What was your favorite line?"
"From, what? Die Verwandlung? Shit, hell if I know, West." He tried to shift in his seat, and looked up at the ceiling. Eventually, he muttered, "Als Gregor Samsa eines Morgen aus unruhigen Traumen erwatche, fand ir sich in seinem Bett zu einem ungeheueren Ungeziefer verwandelt."
"As Gregor Samsa awoke one morning from uneasy dreams he found himself transformed in his bed into a gigantic vermin." Ludwig quipped back in English, and he smiled again. He bent to pick up the smaller knife he had dropped on the floor in the beginning.
Just Under My Skin [3c/3c]
anonymous
July 3 2009, 05:30:05 UTC
"I'm glad it's you." Gilbert didn't know why he said it, as Ludwig placed a knee between his legs. It was stupid, and sounded so, well, unmanly, and God, this is what he got for spending so many years with that pansy Roderich.
Ludwig nodded, once, his mouth tight. "I know." He pushed a bit of Gilbert's unruly hair out of his face. "I am, too."
Gilbert felt the knife press against his chest, the cloth of his wife-beater top suddenly very thin.
"Ich bin froh," he repeated, and Ludwig kissed him again, slow and soft.
He opened his mouth easily, welcoming, and Ludwig pulled his arm back and stabbed Gilbert right in the heart.
And he did it again, and again, and again, and again, and Gilbert kept kissing him, gasping every time the knife went in and out, feeling the sharp pain, and the warm pleasure, and the trickle of the blood down his chest.
Gilbert felt everything and everything, until he couldn't feel any more.
OP is pleased kufufu~♥
anonymous
July 5 2009, 11:03:54 UTC
damn my heart just about exploded when i saw this was filled T.T THANK YOU SO MUCH WRITER!ANON THI--THIS IS INEFFABLE!! Should stop abusing caps now but ahhh how do I convey this contentment?!
It was sad how Gilbert was staring to feel so.. empty, but then again he always have the tendency to make me feel sad. I actually enjoyed their short span of violent hitting!
"Yeah, well, you always have Feliciano for that, right?"--GOD how lonely were you Gilbo D:
"Maybe. Yeah, sure, whatever. Cut off my other hand, put it in a stew."-- I laughed so hard at this :)
Also, is Berlitz one of their doggies' name?
All in all, I wanna lick you now and looking forward to the epilogue love
Re: OP is pleased kufufu~♥
anonymous
July 15 2009, 06:06:18 UTC
I'm really glad you enjoyed this. <3 It was actually a lot of fun to write.
Ahaha, I suck at writing fighting scenes, so I'm happy this one was all right. XD
Sorry for taking so long on the epilogue--I got caught up in a bunch of family stuff and didn't have time to write it until now. Also, I posted a part that accidentally got left out. OTL||||||
Oh, and yes, Berlitz is the name of one of Ludwig's dogs. At least that what it says on the Hetalia wiki. The two other dogs' names are Blackie and Aster.
Just Under My Skin [Epilogue]
anonymous
July 15 2009, 05:59:04 UTC
Feliciano shifted the bag of food he carried, going over the check list of cooking supplies in his head.
He hadn't heard from Ludwig in over week, despite their unspoken agreement to call each other every few days. It worried Feliciano, despite assuring himself that the German was just busy with work and forgot, and so he packed up a bag of ingredients and made his way to Ludwig's house (because a hot meal was the answer to everything in his book).
When he arrived, Ludwig's dogs barked at him from the kennel they were kept outside in, when the weather was good. He vaguely noticed that there was only one car in the driveway.
Feliciano knocked on the door, but no one answered him. So he knocked again. And again. And again, until Ludwig finally opened the door, looking rather exasperated.
"It was unlocked, Feliciano." He sounded a little irritated. "Didn't you hear me?"
"Oh. No." Feliciano blinked, and then grinned widely at his friend, inviting himself inside. He heard Ludwig close the door as he wandered over to the living room to set his things down.
"Ve, you hadn't called a few days," the Italian began to prattle on, sitting down on Ludwig's couch as if it were his own. "I wanted to make sure we were still meeting for coffee tomorrow."
Ludwig stood in the space between the front hall and the living room. "Yes, of course we are." He nods, and then looks at Feliciano's bag. "Was ist das?"
"Hm? Oh, it's pasta, and other cooking things." Feliciano bounced up out of his seat, still smiling. "Ve, I know that when you're working hard you don't eat enough, so I thought I'd make lunch for you."
Feliciano was already in the kitchen before Ludwig could say anything, scouring the cabinets for a pot to boil water in.
Ludwig followed Feliciano, detouring to the fridge to grab a bottle of beer before seating himself at the kitchen table.
"If you don't eat," Feliciano continued, unpacking his pasta and olive oil. "You'll get too skinny. Haha, can you imagine that? A skinny little Ludwig~" He heard his friend stifle a little laugh--something strange to hear, but it was nice to know Ludwig was in a good mood.
Spinning around to face Ludwig, Feliciano giggled again. "Haha, but, ve, you not eating would be like, like if your brother stopped drinking."
"Mm?" Ludwig swallowed his mouthful of beer. "Who?" He asked.
"Your brother, of course." Feliciano tapped his cheek. "Ve, I could never remember his name. But, y'know, he's loud , and drinks a lot. Isn't he usually here during the day?"
Ludwig pushed some blond hair out of his face--he hadn't bothered slicking it back today. "I don't have a clue who you're talking about Feliciano."
"Ve...really? Perhaps I'm remembering wrong."
"Perhaps. But let's not talk about that any more."
Just Under My Skin [3b1/?] READ THIS BEFORE 3b because I fail
anonymous
July 15 2009, 05:56:42 UTC
OTL||| I'm so sorry. This goes between 3a and 3b.
Gilbert eyed the knife resting on the ground next to Ludwig, the latter following his gaze.
He shook his head. "Nein, that one is too thin. I think a cleaver would be more appropriate."
Brushing the dust from the attic floor off his slacks, Ludwig stood. He began rummaging around the many sharp objects laying on the nearby table, letting loose a little cry of triumph as he found what he was looking for.
Gilbert braced himself when Ludwig stalked back over to him, grabbing his arm and bringing the meat cleaver swiftly down, right on his wrist.
As the knife hit his arteries, blood exploded out the wound, Gott all that red, and Gilbert couldn't help but think it was the most beautiful thing he had seen in years.
Ripping away what little kept his hand connected to his forearm, Ludwig raised it to his lips and Gilbert could've sworn he giggled.
He lapped at the blood, gnawed on the palm a little. Gilbert watched him, his attention rapt although his mind was slightly hazy with pain.
Ludwig eventually placed the cleaver on the ground, and came to wrap his arms around Gilbert's shoulders.
"Bruder," He said it softly, and placed a kiss on his brother's cheek. "I almost wish you had said no."
"Don't lie to me." Gilbert turned his head stiffly to look Ludwig in the eye, and grinned. "You know I can always tell."
"Mmm." And then Ludwig leaned closer, until his lips were pressed firmly against Gilbert's.
The feeling was jarring (although it wasn't the first time--sometimes, when Gilbert was drunk, because when he was drunk there was no responsibility, no consequences, nothing to make him feel dirty), but when the taste of blood--salty, metallic,his blood--Gilbert found himself kissing Ludwig back, twice as eagerly, twice as urgently, even as Ludwig's fingernails bit into his scalp.
A little smile--more like a smirk--wormed its way onto Ludwig's face. The expression on his brother always unsettled Gilbert. But he did not make a fuss, only raised an eyebrow as Ludwig stood and walked to the bookcase, placing Die Verwandlung back on a shelf.
"Bruder," Ludwig began, trailing a finger through the dust on the bookcase. "Are you familiar with the act of cannibalism? It's the eating of human flesh, practiced by another human."
"I know wha' fuckin' cannibalism is, W'st."
Ludwig seemed to ignore him, as he continued on. "It's been practiced as a ritual in many different cultures. Considered a, 'societal norm,' I suppose. It's even mentioned in the Bible, during the siege of Samaria, where two women agreed to eat each other's children. One mother cooked her child for the other to eat, but the second refused to--"
"W'st, get to the fuckin' point."
The younger German frowned, a bit disgruntled at the interruption to his impropotu lecture. He coddled the Prussian, nonetheless, and begin to explain.
"You've tasted blood before, Gilbert?"
"Uh, yeah." Gilbert threw Ludwig a look. "Plenty o' times, in battle."
"Mm, of course." Ludwig turned to face Gilbert fully, that freakish little smile back on his face.
Walking purposefully toward him, Ludwig stopped just short of Gilbert's chair, clicking his boots together as if he were reporting for military duty.
With Ludwig towering over him, Gilbert began to feel rather small (inferior, almost, and that would not do). He glared at his brother as the blond bent at the waist, saying very quietly next to Gilbert's ear, "After drinking all that blood, haven't you ever wondered what the flesh tasted like?"
"The fuck?" Gilbert stood abruptly, pushing Ludwig out of his personal space. "The hell are you on about?"
Ludwig laced his fingers together, looking his brother patiently.
"The game I'm proposing, is one that involves cannibalism. I just wanted to make sure you were comfortable with that first, Bruder."
Gilbert stared at Ludwig as if he had just bit off Italy's head (and, well, if Ludwig got what he was now asking for...). Ludwig, however, took his brother's silence as a sign to continue explaining his little 'plan.'
"The rules are very simple. The two of us will wrestle, fight--something you've been complaining the lack thereof--and whomever wins gets to eat the other."
"...Have I ever told you that you suck at making jokes?"
"I didn't mean for it to be funny."
Gilbert would admit; he was curious. This new proposition, this new promise of the violence he craved...it made him excited. But even in his foggy, slightly drunken mind, he knew this wasn't like his brother. This was something that damn psycho Ivan would come up with--not reserved, calm Ludwig.
“What the hell is wrong with you t’night, West?” Gilbert made an effort to enunciate, hoping that would make him sound more serious.
Ludwig took a deep breath. “There has been an agreement.”
“What? The unification? Yeah, I know.”
“Yes. Our bosses want us to...well, for lack of better phrasing, ‘become one.’”
Gilbert scoffed. “Don’t you go ‘round quoting that creepy bastard Ivan.”
The corners of Ludwig’s mouth quirked upward again. “I didn’t mean to offend you.”
“Uh huh. So what does this crap have to do with cannibalism, or whatever, any way?”
Ludwig wandered over to the couch again, but didn’t sit. “If we are to unify...and become one nation...wouldn’t that imply that only one of must die?”
“Uh.” Actually, Gilbert hadn’t thought of it that way at all.
“I thought...” Ah, and here was the brother he knew. Ludwig paused for a good minute, and Gilbert didn’t rush him. He wanted to know. He wanted to make sure Ludwig was serious, if he really intended to try and kill him.
Die Verwandlung is the German title for Franz Kafka's The Metamorphosis.
Reply
Gilbert crossed his arms. “I’ll what, West?”
Ludwig ran a hand over his face. He was acting inconsistently, irrationally. Gilbert watched him warily, curiosity and anticipation growing.
“You’ve often said you’re unhappy with your life here, with me. If you are dead, you wouldn’t have to deal with it any more.”
Gilbert stared hard at Ludwig, and the announced, “That is the shittiest, most fucked up idea I have ever heard of.”
Ludwig sighed heavily, and allowed himself to drop onto the sofa. "I thought you'd of agreed."
"Seriously?"
"I obviously judged your character wrongly, I'm sorry."
He was too tired and drunk to come up with a proper response, so Gilbert settled for staring at Ludwig incredulously. Finally, he shook his head and stormed off to his bedroom, slamming the door (and locking it. If his brother was going batshit again, he didn't want to become the first victim.).
----
Gilbert tossed and turned on his bed. Even though the beer had made him drowsy, try as he might he couldn't do any better than a restless sleep.
What Ludwig had proposed kept playing his mind. What he wanted...it was insane, the idea of cannibalism, but.
But Gilbert still craved the kind of violence he knew this would bring--even if he was going to be committing it against his brother--and he, and he--
Gilbert growled, ripping his blanket off, and stormed out of his room.
He knocked loudly on Ludwig's door, but didn't receive on answer. When he finally just turned the knob, the bed was bare, and so he stalked the house for his brother, eventually finding him passed out on the couch.
Picking a pillow up from one of the easy chairs, Gilbert hit Ludwig in the head with it.
"Wake up, you bastard." When Ludwig began to sit up tiredly, Gilbert hit him again. "Wake up."
"Was?" He asked, irritably.
"You were right about me," Gilbert threw the pillow at him. "I want to try this." I need to.
Ludwig blinked owlishly, and glanced at the clock on the coffee table. "Now?"
"No shit, Sherlock."
"I--" Ludwig stood, and tried to slick some of his hair back. "Are you serious?"
"Yes."
"Are you serious?"
Gilbert fixed his brother with the steeliest gaze he could muster. "Yes. I am."
"...All right."
Leaning down, Ludwig suddenly grabbed the lamp from the table, and swung it hard at Gilbert's head.
He didn't duck fast enough and caught most of the lamp, the porcelain nearly shattering upon impact. Once he fell to the ground, Ludwig was on top of him in an instant, punching him hard in the face.
They grappled, Gilbert kicking him off and into the side of the sofa. He grabbed Ludwig's throat with one hand, roughly, squeezing tight and pressing his thumb against the jugular.
"That military training was good for you," Gilbert grinned, pressing harder, and feeling the rush, rush, rush, of his warrior blood.
"You're right." And then Ludwig grabbed Gilbert's free arm, pushing against his chest and pulled, until there was a pop! and he pulled Gilbert's shoulder right out of its socket.
Gilbert loosened his grip, cursing, and Ludwig quickly pushed him back down, punching and hitting and kicking more, until he wrapped his own hands around Gilbert's neck.
"I win." And there was a little smirk to go with it.
"Yeah, right," Gilbert began to say, but Ludwig pulled hard on his dislocated arm, causing him to cry out.
Ludwig situated Gilbert on his broad back, and carried him to their staircase, up into the rarely used attic.
Reply
Quickly, Ludwig snatched up a length of rope from the grimy floor, binding Gilbert's calves to the chair's legs.
Gilbert scoffed, but didn't try to stop Ludwig. "I thought all of this was supposed to be, y'know, voluntary?" The tone was almost mocking.
"I won't run away." Real warriors like him didn't run away.
"Of course." Ludwig pulled his knot tight, pushing himself back up into a standing position. "This is to keep your movements limited. It just makes things...easier."
Following Ludwig with his gaze, Gilbert saw him carefully pull a dark blue sheet off a long table in the corner of the room.
The table was covered in knives.
"Crap, West, you actually prepared for this?"
"I told you," there was smugness, "I was sure you would say yes."
Gilbert watched with baited breath as Ludwig inspected his knives, hefting them in his hands, testing their weight, how sharp the edge was.
He chose one of the newer ones, rather slender, and kneeled beside Gilbert.
"You've always been so good to me," Ludwig placed a gloved hand at the back of Gilbert's throat, and leaned in close. "I'm sorry we never spent much time together..."
"Yeah, well, you always have Feliciano for that, right?" Gilbert winced at how strained his voice sound, even as Ludwig squeezed his neck, his other hand lightly dragging the knife up and down the Prussian's thigh.
"Mmm."
Ludwig tightened his grip on the knife suddenly, and drove it hard into Gilbert's leg.
"Shit!" Gilbert thrashed as pain coursed through him, accidentally causing Ludwig to push the knife deeper.
"Shh, shh, hush now. You'll wake the neighbors if you scream so loud."
Gilbert managed to keep his mouth closed when Ludwig twisted and pulled the knife out, bringing it to his lips. His tongue darted out to lick the blood, blue eyes locking with red all the while.
"Sorry." It was all sarcasm and spite, but Ludwig didn't seem to mind much, and that creepy little smile found its way back to his face.
"Don't worry about it, Bruder. If we need to, I can make a gag for you."
"How sweet of you, West."
Ludwig's face fell slightly, and he sighed. "You can still back out of this. You can."
Gilbert snorted loudly, and let his head fall against the back of his chair. He heard Ludwig chuckle quietly, and saw him reach out for Gilbert's hand, lifting it up close to his face.
"Let's really start, then." And then he took Gilbert's middle finger into his mouth, sucking.
Starting a bit at the sudden sensation of Ludwig licking his finger, he stared down at his brother. As the blond continued, Gilbert felt a slight warmth spread through his body, and despite how utterly wrong the whole situation was, Ludwig's mouth was hot, as was his tongue, and wow, this felt nice--
Gilbert managed to catch himself--what the hell am I thinking this is my sibling,mein kleiner Bruderand--just before Ludwig bit down, hard, pulling on his finger.
"Mmf!" He managed to stifle a yell, even as Ludwig bit down again, and again, and again, tearing and ripping the flesh, blood leaking out.
Finally, Ludwig let go, licking his stained lips. "Your flesh is tougher than I thought. It looks like I'll have to cut it with a blade."
Reply
They finally pulled away, trailing crimson-tinted saliva. Ludwig, still leaning on his brother's shoulder, pushed his severed hand into his face.
"Would you like to try?" He breathed the question out, smiling just a little.
Gilbert wanted to say, "none for me, no thank you," but instead he opened his mouth, and bit down the heel of his hand ("More meat there," he heard Ludwig say), the skin tough and slightly sweaty.
When it was clear Gilbert wasn't able to bite off more than a small chunk, Ludwig took the hand back.
He surveyed the piece of meat (just like when they were in the butchers, appraising the meat they planned to buy for dinner), and then said, "Perhaps I should try cooking it."
"Maybe. Yeah, sure, whatever. Cut off my other hand, put it in a stew."
"Later," It sounded like a promise. Ludwig turned on his heel and headed out of the room, Gilbert assumed to the kitchen.
It was a good deal of time later--an hour, or less, he wasn't even sure at this point--before his brother returned, and Gilbert already felt slightly woozy and lightheaded from blood loss.
Ludwig looked...sullen, almost, holding an old book with both hands.
"I burned it," He explained, shutting and locking the attic door behind him. "Though Berlitz seemed to like it just fine."
Gilbert laughed a little, figuring Ludwig was trying to make some sort of joke. It was a little hard to concentrate now, he found.
Ludwig stood beside his chair once more, and opened the book he held.
"You said you enjoyed Kafka's work."
"What?" Gilbert blinked, waiting for his mind to catch up with the question. "Yeah, I guess'o."
"What was your favorite line?"
"From, what? Die Verwandlung? Shit, hell if I know, West." He tried to shift in his seat, and looked up at the ceiling. Eventually, he muttered, "Als Gregor Samsa eines Morgen aus unruhigen Traumen erwatche, fand ir sich in seinem Bett zu einem ungeheueren Ungeziefer verwandelt."
"As Gregor Samsa awoke one morning from uneasy dreams he found himself transformed in his bed into a gigantic vermin." Ludwig quipped back in English, and he smiled again. He bent to pick up the smaller knife he had dropped on the floor in the beginning.
Reply
Ludwig nodded, once, his mouth tight. "I know." He pushed a bit of Gilbert's unruly hair out of his face. "I am, too."
Gilbert felt the knife press against his chest, the cloth of his wife-beater top suddenly very thin.
"Ich bin froh," he repeated, and Ludwig kissed him again, slow and soft.
He opened his mouth easily, welcoming, and Ludwig pulled his arm back and stabbed Gilbert right in the heart.
And he did it again, and again, and again, and again, and Gilbert kept kissing him, gasping every time the knife went in and out, feeling the sharp pain, and the warm pleasure, and the trickle of the blood down his chest.
Gilbert felt everything and everything, until he couldn't feel any more.
Reply
I hope you enjoyed, and this wasn't nearly as bad as I'm afraid it turned out to be.
I plan on posting an epilogue, but that will come tomorrow.
Reply
You have devoured my mind with twisted awesome, author!anon
Reply
T.T THANK YOU SO MUCH WRITER!ANON THI--THIS IS INEFFABLE!! Should stop abusing caps now but ahhh how do I convey this contentment?!
It was sad how Gilbert was staring to feel so.. empty, but then again he always have the tendency to make me feel sad. I actually enjoyed their short span of violent hitting!
"Yeah, well, you always have Feliciano for that, right?"--GOD how lonely were you Gilbo D:
"Maybe. Yeah, sure, whatever. Cut off my other hand, put it in a stew."-- I laughed so hard at this :)
Also, is Berlitz one of their doggies' name?
All in all, I wanna lick you now and looking forward to the epilogue love
Reply
Ahaha, I suck at writing fighting scenes, so I'm happy this one was all right. XD
Sorry for taking so long on the epilogue--I got caught up in a bunch of family stuff and didn't have time to write it until now. Also, I posted a part that accidentally got left out. OTL||||||
Oh, and yes, Berlitz is the name of one of Ludwig's dogs. At least that what it says on the Hetalia wiki. The two other dogs' names are Blackie and Aster.
Reply
He hadn't heard from Ludwig in over week, despite their unspoken agreement to call each other every few days. It worried Feliciano, despite assuring himself that the German was just busy with work and forgot, and so he packed up a bag of ingredients and made his way to Ludwig's house (because a hot meal was the answer to everything in his book).
When he arrived, Ludwig's dogs barked at him from the kennel they were kept outside in, when the weather was good. He vaguely noticed that there was only one car in the driveway.
Feliciano knocked on the door, but no one answered him. So he knocked again. And again. And again, until Ludwig finally opened the door, looking rather exasperated.
"It was unlocked, Feliciano." He sounded a little irritated. "Didn't you hear me?"
"Oh. No." Feliciano blinked, and then grinned widely at his friend, inviting himself inside. He heard Ludwig close the door as he wandered over to the living room to set his things down.
"Ve, you hadn't called a few days," the Italian began to prattle on, sitting down on Ludwig's couch as if it were his own. "I wanted to make sure we were still meeting for coffee tomorrow."
Ludwig stood in the space between the front hall and the living room. "Yes, of course we are." He nods, and then looks at Feliciano's bag. "Was ist das?"
"Hm? Oh, it's pasta, and other cooking things." Feliciano bounced up out of his seat, still smiling. "Ve, I know that when you're working hard you don't eat enough, so I thought I'd make lunch for you."
Feliciano was already in the kitchen before Ludwig could say anything, scouring the cabinets for a pot to boil water in.
Ludwig followed Feliciano, detouring to the fridge to grab a bottle of beer before seating himself at the kitchen table.
"If you don't eat," Feliciano continued, unpacking his pasta and olive oil. "You'll get too skinny. Haha, can you imagine that? A skinny little Ludwig~" He heard his friend stifle a little laugh--something strange to hear, but it was nice to know Ludwig was in a good mood.
Spinning around to face Ludwig, Feliciano giggled again. "Haha, but, ve, you not eating would be like, like if your brother stopped drinking."
"Mm?" Ludwig swallowed his mouthful of beer. "Who?" He asked.
"Your brother, of course." Feliciano tapped his cheek. "Ve, I could never remember his name. But, y'know, he's loud , and drinks a lot. Isn't he usually here during the day?"
Ludwig pushed some blond hair out of his face--he hadn't bothered slicking it back today. "I don't have a clue who you're talking about Feliciano."
"Ve...really? Perhaps I'm remembering wrong."
"Perhaps. But let's not talk about that any more."
"Ah? Mm, okay. Any way..."
They never did.
Reply
Gilbert eyed the knife resting on the ground next to Ludwig, the latter following his gaze.
He shook his head. "Nein, that one is too thin. I think a cleaver would be more appropriate."
Brushing the dust from the attic floor off his slacks, Ludwig stood. He began rummaging around the many sharp objects laying on the nearby table, letting loose a little cry of triumph as he found what he was looking for.
Gilbert braced himself when Ludwig stalked back over to him, grabbing his arm and bringing the meat cleaver swiftly down, right on his wrist.
As the knife hit his arteries, blood exploded out the wound, Gott all that red, and Gilbert couldn't help but think it was the most beautiful thing he had seen in years.
Ripping away what little kept his hand connected to his forearm, Ludwig raised it to his lips and Gilbert could've sworn he giggled.
He lapped at the blood, gnawed on the palm a little. Gilbert watched him, his attention rapt although his mind was slightly hazy with pain.
Ludwig eventually placed the cleaver on the ground, and came to wrap his arms around Gilbert's shoulders.
"Bruder," He said it softly, and placed a kiss on his brother's cheek. "I almost wish you had said no."
"Don't lie to me." Gilbert turned his head stiffly to look Ludwig in the eye, and grinned. "You know I can always tell."
"Mmm." And then Ludwig leaned closer, until his lips were pressed firmly against Gilbert's.
The feeling was jarring (although it wasn't the first time--sometimes, when Gilbert was drunk, because when he was drunk there was no responsibility, no consequences, nothing to make him feel dirty), but when the taste of blood--salty, metallic,his blood--Gilbert found himself kissing Ludwig back, twice as eagerly, twice as urgently, even as Ludwig's fingernails bit into his scalp.
Reply
Leave a comment