Every time he looks at the kid, he wants to shout and rip out his hair and just run far, far away. Braginski takes care to bring little Sofiya to every last meeting, the pale-haired, amethyst-eyed little girl clinging to his hand and hiding behind Braginski's long legs shyly, before seeing her mother. And don't get him wrong; Gilbert loves her, more than anything else. But her eyes are copied perfectly from her father's sharp face onto her own beautiful one, and every time he looks into them he sees a darkened form, hovering over him with those startlingly violet eyes narrowed in malice and lust.
"Ah, Gilbert, you're so tight~ and strange. You say that you hate me, but look at you, moaning like a slut for me to fuck you harder..."
The others think she's just lovely - which she is, because what child of Gilbert's couldn't be? - and coddle her. She takes all the smiles with her own soft giggles, never letting go of her father's hand and never actually talking.
Gilbert stared in horror at his reflection, at the small but defined bump between his hips. It could pass for a few gained pounds, except that Braginski had heard him retching in the early hours of the morning. Except that Braginski had noticed the Prussian eating far more than usual...
"N-no," he choked out, hands trembling and gripping the cloth of his shirt tightly enough to tear.
How was he going to tell his rapist that he was pregnant?
But then Sofiya, then his little daughter looks up and catches a glimpse of platinum hair and white skin accentuated by a blue uniform. She yanks her hand free of her father's - a grip which tightened as he followed her gaze to Gilbert - and runs over to the Prussian. She climbs into his lap, talking rapidly in Russian-accented German that he taught her himself, and looks so much like him that Gilbert wants to crawl in a hole and die. Because, just as much as he wants to hug her tightly and croon to her in German, he'd give anything to shove her off or pull out his gun and -
He tried, oh god, how he tried to get rid of the monster growing inside him. When the world was still gripped by the dark ages, there were no doctors to abort babies; no, Gilbert would lie awake for hours hearing his little ones praying and jumping great heights - not enough to kill them, but enough to kill the child inside them.
But it was so cold in Russia. Gilbert shivered in the icy water as he jumped from bridges, always waiting for the ripping sound of the detaching placenta and never hearing it.
He had to get rid of the baby before Braginski found out.
The look on Braginski's face is hard and cold as he stalks over.
Nataliya was the first to put the pieces together. She and Gilbert got along well enough, and her role in the household was cooking. The Belorussian was used to cooking wurst, to purchasing sauerkraut and beer for Gilbert; when she slid a plate of German food before him, she noted the nervous, hungry glances he kept throwing her own plate of bowl of borscht. He ate his food, but didn't touch the beer even once.
"Gilbert, is there something wrong?" she asked.
He turned to look at her, and asked shyly, "Can I have some?"
She pushed her bowl towards him, and blinked in shock at the satisfied moan he made as he took a spoonful.
After that, putting the rest of it together hadn't been hard. When she confronted him, he collapsed and sobbed into his hands. Nataliya pulled him closer and let him cry into her long skirts, stroking his hair in a soothing gesture.
If anyone else noticed Gilbert's subtle change to Russian food, they didn't comment.
"Come, little one," he says in Russian, and Sofiya glances away from her mother.
Kick [2/3, damn character limit]
anonymous
September 27 2010, 02:46:52 UTC
"It started kicking," Gilbert said in a hushed whisper, sitting on his bed with Nataliya tailoring his clothes a little larger.
"No way...this early on?"
"M-maybe it happened earlier than I thought -" He cut off abruptly. "I need a doctor. Is there anyway we can get to one?"
"I can try..."
A relieved sigh. "Thank you, Nat. I can't have this baby."
Gilbert froze as he heard footsteps receding outside, and shared a horrified look with Nataliya.
"Okay, Daddy!" she beams in that bell-like voice. She turns to Gilbert - who, the whole time, has only watched her with a faint smile and fearful eyes - and says with a wide grin, "Bye, Momma!" Sofiya leans up and kisses Gilbert on the cheek before climbing into Braginski's extended arms. The two walk away, Braginski's smile sincere for once as he listens to his animated daughter speak.
Gilbert couldn't remember terror of the kind he'd felt that night. Braginski had crept into his room, the way he usually did, but stopped at the doorway. The Russian stood there and crossed muscular arms over a broad chest, leaning against the doorway and watching Gilbert. The albino tried to even his breathing out, willing his hands to stop shaking.
Gilbert didn't know how long Braginski stood there, quiet as a ghost. Then the soft thudding of combat boots sounded out, and Braginski crossed the floor, sitting on the bed next to Gilbert and reaching out to stroke his hair.
That was a weird quirk of the giant Russian's. Some nights, he would storm in, rip Gilbert's clothes off and rape him until he couldn't breathe through his hoarse throat; other times, he'd simply lie there, holding Gilbert in his arms and humming some lullaby or other.
He wasn't humming now, though, as he slowly pulled back the covers from Gilbert and slipped a cold hand under his shirt. Gilbert tensed involuntarily as Braginski let his palm rest right over his stomach.
Almost immediately, there was a kick - the monster's response to one of its kind, Gilbert thought with a scowl.
Braginski sighed in wonder, just loud enough for the Prussian to hear.
Gilbert's never felt so empty. The feeling escalates every time this happens, more intense than the last.
"Hello, doctor? Yes, this is Ivan Braginski. I'm aware that there was an appointment with you made under my sister's name - Nataliya Arlovskaya. I apologize for wasting your time, but the appointment has to be cancelled; she isn't feeling well enough to come today. Yes, she's sure. Thank you."
Braginski set the telephone back down and turned to smile at Gilbert, wrapping him up in a tight hug.
"Oh, our child will be so lovely~"
And Gilbert swore to himself that he'd get rid of it.
Kick [3/3]
anonymous
September 27 2010, 02:47:28 UTC
He doesn't hear Ludwig approaching him, and he jumps slightly as his brother claps him on the shoulder.
"Bruder, are you okay?" asks the German.
"J-ja." Gilbert inhales and shakes his head, before spinning and shooting a dazzling grin at his brother. "Let's go get drunk!" he crows, waltzing away and clenching his teeth to keep them grinning.
Gilbert was sobbing in agony, gripping the bar hard in an attempt to alleviate the pain. He gritted his teeth, muscles tense and legs flailing about.
"It's crowned," he could vaguely hear Nataliya saying. "Keep pushing!"
He did, and a few seconds later he heard a soft crying.
"It's a girl," said Nataliya with a smile. "A beautiful baby girl."
The tears threatening to overflow will do so, but later, when he's alone. Not now.
Braginski chose the name - Sofiya. Wisdom.
"The Kaliningrad Oblast," he had said proudly. "Strange, though, that you're still here. She's taken your spot in the world."
And Gilbert knew exactly why he was still alive:
As long as she needed her mother, he would remain.
Braginski doted on her, loving and giving her everything she could ever need or want, despite his sisters telling him not to spoil her so badly.
But no matter how much the Russian loved her, she loved her mother more. When the Iron Curtain finally fell, five years after Sofiya's birth, Gilbert ran upstairs to pack, throwing everything he had into a suitcase and hugging Nataliya goodbye at the door.
Then he heard a soft, timid voice, and looked down to see little Sofiya tugging at his pant leg.
"M-Momma? Where are you going?"
His heart broke as he ran.
Years had passed since that day, and every time he saw the little one, her face would light up in an expression of utter joy and adoration.
Maybe one day he would be able to hold her and sing Alle meine Entchen the way he sang to Ludwig.
Re: Kick [3/3]
anonymous
September 27 2010, 04:41:56 UTC
Another anon totally second this notion! This fic most definitely did not suck and it deserves a happy ending of some sort! D: Totally needs an omake or sequel <3
On another note, I wonder how Ludwig feels about being an uncle...
-x-x-x-
Every time he looks at the kid, he wants to shout and rip out his hair and just run far, far away. Braginski takes care to bring little Sofiya to every last meeting, the pale-haired, amethyst-eyed little girl clinging to his hand and hiding behind Braginski's long legs shyly, before seeing her mother. And don't get him wrong; Gilbert loves her, more than anything else. But her eyes are copied perfectly from her father's sharp face onto her own beautiful one, and every time he looks into them he sees a darkened form, hovering over him with those startlingly violet eyes narrowed in malice and lust.
"Ah, Gilbert, you're so tight~ and strange. You say that you hate me, but look at you, moaning like a slut for me to fuck you harder..."
The others think she's just lovely - which she is, because what child of Gilbert's couldn't be? - and coddle her. She takes all the smiles with her own soft giggles, never letting go of her father's hand and never actually talking.
Gilbert stared in horror at his reflection, at the small but defined bump between his hips. It could pass for a few gained pounds, except that Braginski had heard him retching in the early hours of the morning. Except that Braginski had noticed the Prussian eating far more than usual...
"N-no," he choked out, hands trembling and gripping the cloth of his shirt tightly enough to tear.
How was he going to tell his rapist that he was pregnant?
But then Sofiya, then his little daughter looks up and catches a glimpse of platinum hair and white skin accentuated by a blue uniform. She yanks her hand free of her father's - a grip which tightened as he followed her gaze to Gilbert - and runs over to the Prussian. She climbs into his lap, talking rapidly in Russian-accented German that he taught her himself, and looks so much like him that Gilbert wants to crawl in a hole and die. Because, just as much as he wants to hug her tightly and croon to her in German, he'd give anything to shove her off or pull out his gun and -
He tried, oh god, how he tried to get rid of the monster growing inside him. When the world was still gripped by the dark ages, there were no doctors to abort babies; no, Gilbert would lie awake for hours hearing his little ones praying and jumping great heights - not enough to kill them, but enough to kill the child inside them.
But it was so cold in Russia. Gilbert shivered in the icy water as he jumped from bridges, always waiting for the ripping sound of the detaching placenta and never hearing it.
He had to get rid of the baby before Braginski found out.
The look on Braginski's face is hard and cold as he stalks over.
Nataliya was the first to put the pieces together. She and Gilbert got along well enough, and her role in the household was cooking. The Belorussian was used to cooking wurst, to purchasing sauerkraut and beer for Gilbert; when she slid a plate of German food before him, she noted the nervous, hungry glances he kept throwing her own plate of bowl of borscht. He ate his food, but didn't touch the beer even once.
"Gilbert, is there something wrong?" she asked.
He turned to look at her, and asked shyly, "Can I have some?"
She pushed her bowl towards him, and blinked in shock at the satisfied moan he made as he took a spoonful.
After that, putting the rest of it together hadn't been hard. When she confronted him, he collapsed and sobbed into his hands. Nataliya pulled him closer and let him cry into her long skirts, stroking his hair in a soothing gesture.
If anyone else noticed Gilbert's subtle change to Russian food, they didn't comment.
"Come, little one," he says in Russian, and Sofiya glances away from her mother.
Reply
"No way...this early on?"
"M-maybe it happened earlier than I thought -" He cut off abruptly. "I need a doctor. Is there anyway we can get to one?"
"I can try..."
A relieved sigh. "Thank you, Nat. I can't have this baby."
Gilbert froze as he heard footsteps receding outside, and shared a horrified look with Nataliya.
"Okay, Daddy!" she beams in that bell-like voice. She turns to Gilbert - who, the whole time, has only watched her with a faint smile and fearful eyes - and says with a wide grin, "Bye, Momma!" Sofiya leans up and kisses Gilbert on the cheek before climbing into Braginski's extended arms. The two walk away, Braginski's smile sincere for once as he listens to his animated daughter speak.
Gilbert couldn't remember terror of the kind he'd felt that night. Braginski had crept into his room, the way he usually did, but stopped at the doorway. The Russian stood there and crossed muscular arms over a broad chest, leaning against the doorway and watching Gilbert. The albino tried to even his breathing out, willing his hands to stop shaking.
Gilbert didn't know how long Braginski stood there, quiet as a ghost. Then the soft thudding of combat boots sounded out, and Braginski crossed the floor, sitting on the bed next to Gilbert and reaching out to stroke his hair.
That was a weird quirk of the giant Russian's. Some nights, he would storm in, rip Gilbert's clothes off and rape him until he couldn't breathe through his hoarse throat; other times, he'd simply lie there, holding Gilbert in his arms and humming some lullaby or other.
He wasn't humming now, though, as he slowly pulled back the covers from Gilbert and slipped a cold hand under his shirt. Gilbert tensed involuntarily as Braginski let his palm rest right over his stomach.
Almost immediately, there was a kick - the monster's response to one of its kind, Gilbert thought with a scowl.
Braginski sighed in wonder, just loud enough for the Prussian to hear.
Gilbert's never felt so empty. The feeling escalates every time this happens, more intense than the last.
"Hello, doctor? Yes, this is Ivan Braginski. I'm aware that there was an appointment with you made under my sister's name - Nataliya Arlovskaya. I apologize for wasting your time, but the appointment has to be cancelled; she isn't feeling well enough to come today. Yes, she's sure. Thank you."
Braginski set the telephone back down and turned to smile at Gilbert, wrapping him up in a tight hug.
"Oh, our child will be so lovely~"
And Gilbert swore to himself that he'd get rid of it.
Reply
"Bruder, are you okay?" asks the German.
"J-ja." Gilbert inhales and shakes his head, before spinning and shooting a dazzling grin at his brother. "Let's go get drunk!" he crows, waltzing away and clenching his teeth to keep them grinning.
Gilbert was sobbing in agony, gripping the bar hard in an attempt to alleviate the pain. He gritted his teeth, muscles tense and legs flailing about.
"It's crowned," he could vaguely hear Nataliya saying. "Keep pushing!"
He did, and a few seconds later he heard a soft crying.
"It's a girl," said Nataliya with a smile. "A beautiful baby girl."
The tears threatening to overflow will do so, but later, when he's alone. Not now.
Braginski chose the name - Sofiya. Wisdom.
"The Kaliningrad Oblast," he had said proudly. "Strange, though, that you're still here. She's taken your spot in the world."
And Gilbert knew exactly why he was still alive:
As long as she needed her mother, he would remain.
Braginski doted on her, loving and giving her everything she could ever need or want, despite his sisters telling him not to spoil her so badly.
But no matter how much the Russian loved her, she loved her mother more. When the Iron Curtain finally fell, five years after Sofiya's birth, Gilbert ran upstairs to pack, throwing everything he had into a suitcase and hugging Nataliya goodbye at the door.
Then he heard a soft, timid voice, and looked down to see little Sofiya tugging at his pant leg.
"M-Momma? Where are you going?"
His heart broke as he ran.
Years had passed since that day, and every time he saw the little one, her face would light up in an expression of utter joy and adoration.
Maybe one day he would be able to hold her and sing Alle meine Entchen the way he sang to Ludwig.
But he doubted it.
-x-x-x-
it sucked, I'm sorry xD
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On another note, I wonder how Ludwig feels about being an uncle...
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I might post one a little later, idk. I'm glad you liked it ^.^
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