[5 Prompts][Hetalia OC] "Cursed" Ireland
Title: "Cursed"
Fandom: Axis Powers Hetalia
Pairing: England/Ireland (OC)
Prompt: Table G2, # 2 Road to Hell
Words: 700
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Original Character, since Himaruya-sensei has not yet graced us with an Ireland.
Summary: England had decided to take his invasion of her a bit farther.
Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.
“I swear he never lay a hand on me until I asked him to.”
They had existed side by side for centuries, perhaps even millennia. He had come once again, the blonde man from across the sea who held chains to her brothers enslavement. None of them had ever though he would rise up to such power. Ireland often saw him gazing at her as if she were the rarest creature he had ever seen. They had fought many battles, leaving more than just a few scars on each other. Been in each other’s clutches more than once.
The battle had been long and fierce, but now he lay bleeding at her feet. His blood soaking into the soil he had attempted to claim. She raised her sword considering destroying him. This was not the first time she had considered the act of killing him, but something always held her back. She chose to leave him there, perhaps her lands would finish him off.
“Erin.” Her name came out barely more than a whisper. She whirled on him, he had no right uttering her human name like they were close. Ireland walked back to him turning his body face up with the toe of her boot. Blood streaked his blonde hair turning it red like so many of her people. He could have been her brother if his blood was not so mixed with the barbarians of the south.
“What do you want Sasana*?” she demanded. He opened his eyes and stared into hers. They were the same shade of green.
“Why must we always fight like this, Erin?” Ireland could see the pain in his eyes. She sat down beside him and began tearing strips from her torn skirt to wipe the blood from his face. She could not understand why she always felt such pity for the fool.
“Destiny, I suppose.” He laughed bitterly at her statement. Ireland was surprised when he grabbed her wrist roughly and caught her braid in his other hand, pulling himself up by her hair. She cursed him and her misfortune as her free hand attempted to reach her weapon. Her fingertips just barely brushed the hilt and he jerked her backwards towards him. “You are never as hurt as you seem.” She stared defiantly into his eyes.
“And you, Ireland, are always fiercer than I expect.” She could feel his eyes on her, looking her up and down. He moved closer to her, “Say, Erin, why don’t we forge a new destiny.” Hand still grasping her braid he forced her head back and brought his lips to her now exposed throat. She stiffened causing him to adjust his hands on her to make sure she couldn’t escape his grasp. Her mind was blank.
“I have loved you since I first lay eyes on you.” He whispered into her collarbone. She curled the fingers of her free hand into his hair pulling his head away from her neck.
“You are a liar, you probably say that to all of your conquests. You just want to control me.” It was now his turn to look defiant.
“Believe whatever you like.”
“You don’t meant that.”
“True.” Despite her grip on his hair he leaned back into her and put his lips to her neck once again. Making his way up her throat her body bent into him against her will. She cursed her human flesh.
“You’ve bitten off more than you can chew, Arthur.”
“Enough talk Erin.” He looked her in the eye, green locked on green. He kissed her roughly, his mouth claiming hers with all of the fierceness he used in battle. She fought him back for control of the kiss. He groaned into her mouth and she reveled in the sound. If he insisted on this conquest she was going to make sure he would never forget it. This must be how one becomes cursed, she though to herself as she tore at his shirt freeing him of it. Her hands traced the contours of his back. She gasped as he ran a hand up her skirt.
As the priests across the seas liked to say, she was going straight to hell.
Fandom: Axis Powers Hetalia
Pairing: England/Ireland (OC)
Prompt: Table G2, # 2 Road to Hell
Words: 700
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Original Character, since Himaruya-sensei has not yet graced us with an Ireland.
Summary: England had decided to take his invasion of her a bit farther.
Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.
“I swear he never lay a hand on me until I asked him to.”
They had existed side by side for centuries, perhaps even millennia. He had come once again, the blonde man from across the sea who held chains to her brothers enslavement. None of them had ever though he would rise up to such power. Ireland often saw him gazing at her as if she were the rarest creature he had ever seen. They had fought many battles, leaving more than just a few scars on each other. Been in each other’s clutches more than once.
The battle had been long and fierce, but now he lay bleeding at her feet. His blood soaking into the soil he had attempted to claim. She raised her sword considering destroying him. This was not the first time she had considered the act of killing him, but something always held her back. She chose to leave him there, perhaps her lands would finish him off.
“Erin.” Her name came out barely more than a whisper. She whirled on him, he had no right uttering her human name like they were close. Ireland walked back to him turning his body face up with the toe of her boot. Blood streaked his blonde hair turning it red like so many of her people. He could have been her brother if his blood was not so mixed with the barbarians of the south.
“What do you want Sasana*?” she demanded. He opened his eyes and stared into hers. They were the same shade of green.
“Why must we always fight like this, Erin?” Ireland could see the pain in his eyes. She sat down beside him and began tearing strips from her torn skirt to wipe the blood from his face. She could not understand why she always felt such pity for the fool.
“Destiny, I suppose.” He laughed bitterly at her statement. Ireland was surprised when he grabbed her wrist roughly and caught her braid in his other hand, pulling himself up by her hair. She cursed him and her misfortune as her free hand attempted to reach her weapon. Her fingertips just barely brushed the hilt and he jerked her backwards towards him. “You are never as hurt as you seem.” She stared defiantly into his eyes.
“And you, Ireland, are always fiercer than I expect.” She could feel his eyes on her, looking her up and down. He moved closer to her, “Say, Erin, why don’t we forge a new destiny.” Hand still grasping her braid he forced her head back and brought his lips to her now exposed throat. She stiffened causing him to adjust his hands on her to make sure she couldn’t escape his grasp. Her mind was blank.
“I have loved you since I first lay eyes on you.” He whispered into her collarbone. She curled the fingers of her free hand into his hair pulling his head away from her neck.
“You are a liar, you probably say that to all of your conquests. You just want to control me.” It was now his turn to look defiant.
“Believe whatever you like.”
“You don’t meant that.”
“True.” Despite her grip on his hair he leaned back into her and put his lips to her neck once again. Making his way up her throat her body bent into him against her will. She cursed her human flesh.
“You’ve bitten off more than you can chew, Arthur.”
“Enough talk Erin.” He looked her in the eye, green locked on green. He kissed her roughly, his mouth claiming hers with all of the fierceness he used in battle. She fought him back for control of the kiss. He groaned into her mouth and she reveled in the sound. If he insisted on this conquest she was going to make sure he would never forget it. This must be how one becomes cursed, she though to herself as she tore at his shirt freeing him of it. Her hands traced the contours of his back. She gasped as he ran a hand up her skirt.
As the priests across the seas liked to say, she was going straight to hell.