rusamechuweek2022

[rusamechuweek2022]

Do You Fear Me, Dear? - Extremely late RusAmeChu week fic

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Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/38582931

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Tws: A little bit of swearing, mildly creepy behavior from Russia that I didn’t realize was weird until I was editing. (I swear he was intended to be a weird hitman, not what he comes off as. :(( )

Prompt: Angst

Words: 2237

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This is kinda bad and I made up the idea for it in math class. shrugs And once again it’s a month late.

Set sort of back in time, but not meant to actually be in a real time period.

Also I dipped into old fanon dynamics a little. I hope you can forgive me, I think we all deserve to indulge a little sometimes. XD

America sighed and put his head to his desk, office door slamming shut as his last correspondent for the day left in a huff. He wasn’t exactly sure how he had messed up, but it was rather clear that he had. ‘My boss isn’t going to be very happy about this,’ he thought, shifting slightly so that his arm acted as pillow and his head was no longer difficulty on the desk. 

In this new position, he tilted his head slightly to look at the ceiling. It was a regular office ceiling, with the exception of the glow-in-the-dark stars that his team had set up. (He was pretty sure that the reason was for ‘employee morale’ or something, but he couldn’t be quite sure as he hadn’t gone to the board meeting.) In the fading light of the day, he could see the awkward shapes beginning to stand out against the simple white around them, their little bodies starting to shine greenish as the ceiling around them grayed. He sighed and burried his face back in his arms. The stars might be a comfort to some of the other employees, but all they did for him was make him wish he was out of the building and somewhere far away for his vein of work.

Technically his job for the day was over, his last client had left fewer than five minutes ago, but the boss had decided that all employees were meant to stay at least thirty minutes after their last meeting. It was an annoying rule, but it wasn’t like they weren’t getting paid for the overtime, so America couldn’t really complain. 

Suddenly realizing he didn’t know what time it was (and therefore what time he could leave), America sat up to look at the clock. It glowed like the stars, so he didn’t even need to stand up to turn on the light to read it. The hour hand was at the six, and the minute hand was at the five. He pursed his lips, having to think a little too hard about what that meant before deciding that he was going to leave at seven. (Even if it was a few minutes over.) He could probably just take a nap anyway. 

He stretched his arms above his head, feeling them shake satisfyingly as his shoulders popped. Or he could finish up his paperwork, that way he wouldn’t have to come in early the next day. He shook the sleep out of his ears, so many choices, so little time. He opened his mouth to yawn, but stopped rather suddenly halfway through.

He squinched up his nose. There was something wrong in the air, he couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but something was off. He shook his head, trying to ignore it. Maybe he imagined it, it had been a long day and he was tired. Those where just the sorts of conditions for someone to make up strange things happening. After a quick moment of decision, he decided to try to rest a bit. He leaned back in his chair, the back squeaking familiarly as he tried to relax. He started to take a deep breath in, one that imitated the calming breaths his therapist had been trying to tell him to take more often, but stopped halfway through as he caught that scent again.

This time he sat up. Suddenly very sure that he wasn’t just making up a weirdness that hadn’t been there a moment ago. ‘What is that?' He wondered, trying to shake some confidence into himself as he looked nervously around the room, ‘Is there a fire?’ 

Alarmed, he stood, the sudden movement sending his chair teetering backward and a few papers to fly off his desk. If it was a fire, he should get out of the building. He took a few tentative steps towards the door. Then again, if it was a fire, he would be able to smell smoke  wouldn’t he? Not just a sense of something weird in the air. He glanced back at his desk, looking towards the carpet and quietly contemplating if he should leave the building or not. If there wasn’t a fire, then he would be leaving his station without completing his shift, and he might get in trouble for that. 

But before he could make either decision, he felt someone’s eyes on his back. He froze. A chill shivering up his spine as fear shot though him. Shaking as he struggled to ignore his sudden terror, the blond haired nation forced himself to drag his eyes upward. They traced up the desk’s leg, across it’s surface and it’s messy paperwork, up the chair back, and finally coming to a rest on the mirror that he had hanging behind his desk. His eyes widened and he felt his glasses slip a bit down his nose. In that mirror was a reflection of him and his office, but he wasn’t the only person standing starkly against the wood paneled wall.

Behind him was another man.

A man with pure white hair and inhuman purple eyes.

“Hello Alfred,” came his familiar voice, words lit with a smile smeared in poison, “I saw that you dropped some papers, do you want them back?” In the reflection, America could see that Russia (because those purple eyes could belong to no one else) was indeed holding out the papers that had slipped off his desk, held tightly in one leather gloved hand.

He fought back the urge to spin around and spit at the other nation, but instead just gritted his teeth and balled his hands into fists. ‘No wonder it smelled weird,’ he thought angrily, fully aware that what he had sensed hadn’t be a scent, not exactly, ‘This motherfucker just had to show up-,’

But his thoughts were chopped in two as Russia spoke again, his words more of a mocking purr than they had been before, “You have to answer my question if you want me to give you your papers.” He whispered, and then, as if relishing in his statement, he shook the aforementioned papers slightly. And America felt an angry hiss building up inside him as he watched.

Just barely avoiding letting the sound out, America swiftly turned toward the taller man. But he was surprised by the brightness that greeted him. Even though he had been looking at them in the mirror a moment ago, those gleaming purple eyes caught him off guard, so when he spoke he stuttered his way into the first few words. “If you wanna give me my papers I’ll take ‘em,” he suppressed another hiss as he saw a smirk grow on Russia’s face, “But if you’d rather throw ‘em out I got copies in the filing cabinets.”

Here Russia’s smirk briefly transformed into a frown, but before America could get to ahead of himself and revel in his comeback, that very same frown changed into another smile. (Though it shone equally with fake pleasantries and with the look of someone who just got their favorite meal handed to them at a dinner. If that meal was a freshly delivered idea for how to properly frighten another immortal being, that was.)

“Well then I’ll save you the trouble,” Russia said smoothly, handing the papers over and dragging his fingers over America’s hand for just a second too long, “Filing cabinets are always such a hassle,” here he grinned meanly, “But I guess since you spend so much time around them they aren’t as difficult anymore, yes?”

America rolled his eyes, but even he could tell it was forced defiance. (And he wasn’t the one staring at his face with mockingly ruthless intent.) “Well at least I have a reliable job,” he retorted, though the words felt strange and forced on his tongue, “Last I checked you were still working as a dishwasher,”

Russia hummed before he responded, a simple carefree note that only served to tell America how little this taunting was bothering him. “That’s a more reliable job than you think it is, and besides, I quit it ages ago.” 

This surprised America slightly, but he tried not to make that super obvious, (even as he could feel chills and sweat run down his back like a river rapids ride at some decrepit theme park in upstate Vermont.) “Oh really? Good for you,” he said, even though both of them knew he didn’t really mean the last part of his comment.

Russia tilted his head to the side and smiled, and America instantly knew that he could tell that he had him trapped. “Oh yes. I’ve got a much better job now,” He counted on his fingers briefly before adding, “-pays better than your current one as well.” 

America would’ve retorted with something smart like, ‘Then get the hell out of my office if your job is so much better,’ or maybe just a simple, ‘Fuck you.’ But that weird feeling in the air had returned, and it made his hair stand up and his nose squench up. Plus, the feeling that was now boiling in his gut wasn’t much of a comfort either.

After a moment of America trying to muster the courage to respond properly, Russia started again. (This time with a rather threatening step forward before he began to speak.) “Would you like to know what my new job is? Would you, Alfred?” On his human name, Russia took another step forward, and America took an instinctual step back, suddenly feeling very small compared to his former ally.

“Stop doing that,” he managed, feeling a strange dread (the one he couldn’t quite explain) crawl over his arms like spiders. He watched as Russia smiled and quickly realized that what he had said sounded sort of pleading. He tried to look bravely into Russia’s eyes to show him that that wasn’t what he truly felt (even if it was), but even he could tell that he failed when the glowing purple shocked him away once more.

“Stop doing what?” Russia’s smile seemed to get wider with every step forward, “You’re going to have to use your words if you want something, didn’t your dear friend Davie ever teach you that?” 

America bristled, but he could only force himself to spit out a few words (that cold chill and odd scent were growing to a crescendo now). “Stop using my name, you know no one calls me that.” His last word stuttered to a halt as his back hit the edge of his desk.

That grin widened once more, and America could have sworn that if Russia smiled any wider his face would split in two. “There’s always time to start a new tradition,” he said, pointing it out as if this was any sort of situation to share words of wisdom, “And besides, it rolls off the tongue much better than ‘United States of America’.”

America glanced behind himself, not all comforted when he just saw his chair with the mirror and the paper covered wall behind it. (Instead of the emergency exit he was half hoping would magically pop into existence without it existing previously.) Something was wrong. This was different from the last time he had talked to Russia. There was a different power balance somehow. He was supposed to be the strong one. The one with the super strength.

“Maybe I think that human names are useless,” he muttered, putting his hands on either side of himself on the desk in a half-assed attempt to look comfortable, “Maybe I think that ‘Alfred’, or ‘Arthur’ or ‘Ivan’ are stupid words to call a representation of a people.” (He purposely mispronounced Russia’s name as “EYE-van”, and was subsequently disappointed when he didn’t seem to care all that much.)

“I guess we can agree to disagree then,” Russia shrugged, stepping forward again and growing his shadow ever larger, “It wouldn’t be the first time now, would it?” For a moment, America watched as the glow-in-the-dark stars shone strangely above the other nation’s white haired head, but he quickly snapped back to reality.

“Since when have we disagreed on something without a fight,” America spat, (Which probably would have been a good comeback if it wasn’t for the incessant shaking of his voice.), “I was pretty sure we were in the middle of one of those actually.” 

Suddenly, he felt a hand at his side, and his eyes snapped open. He hadn’t been aware that he had closed them, but even as wide open as they were now, they still couldn’t take in the crystallized flames that sparked so frighteningly in the ones right across them. He held the stare as long as he could, but had to fight down a scream as he felt a second hand. (This one resting on his hip.)

The clock hit seven with a trembling rush. (America did not know how that time had passed so quickly, all he knew was that he needed to get AWAY from his current situation just as fast.) But instead of giving him that chance, Russia asked one last question, eyes sparking like ghosts and teeth shining like a really weird toothpaste commercial. “Alfred?” he asked, moving that hand that had previously been on the desk to hold America’s chin in his hand. "Do you fear me…” America took a deep breath and prepared for the worst, “-dear?”

[rusamechuweek2022]

(💞anon again hi !!) prompt - movie night

Alfred swirled his drink. He watched the ice cubes clink through the coca cola for a second before shooting a glance at Ivan, who was sitting to his left.

Ivan's leg was folded back under him, which looked uncomfortable though he didn't seem to care all that much. On Ivan's other side, Yao sat with his eyes trained hard on the screen like he was hunting something on it, or expecting something to jump off of it for him to catch. That was just the best way Alfred could think of to describe the expression - though he clearly just cared about what was happening in the film.

To be honest, Al hadn't been paying attention to it for a while. It was just some trashy romance about a boring couple and their trouble in the ... fast food industry? he wasn't sure. (Again, he wasn't really paying attention.)

It seemed that his insistent staring at Ivan got his attention soon enough though, and Ivan glanced over. He didn't turn his head at all, didn't even move, but they made eye contact. somehow it still shot a bit of fear up through Alfred when he did that, though he knew it was just nation instincts getting in the way .

Even with the little bit of fear, Alfred had to admit that Ivan's eyes were pretty, more blue violet than anything else they stood out nicely against the stark pale of his face and hair . Ivan's eyes searched his face curiously, wondering why he was looking at him.

Alfred looked away for a moment, scratching the back of his head and turning back to the movie. Gross, the characters were making out, that wasn't what he wanted to be suddenly jump-scared by. So he looked back at Ivan, who seemed to be having a similar reaction to the moment. Yao though, was still staring forward intently.

That was it, Alfred busted out in a laugh. "China, man," his brown-haired companion jumped at his nation name, "you're way too into this !"

Yao snorted, but his face flushed. "Listen," he shook his head, having to speak over Ivan giggling, "I didn't choose the movie- that was you,"

"I liked the cover," Alfred retorted light heartedly, "Plus, it was free"

Ivan leaned back in the couch so that Yao and Alfred could talk more comfortably without him in the way. He spoke up too "I don't think it being free was a very good sign,"

"You jest," Yao pointed out (ignoring Ivan's short "no i'm serious"), "But i've been paying more attention than both of you combined and I still have no idea what's happening,"

On the screen, the woman was talking about taxes or something. In the awkward pause, Alfred raised his voice to a higher pitch to imitate the character "we're running out of money!" he joked, causing Yao to cackle, "it's like when out economies are bad and we get all sick." He commented, to which Ivan snorted and shook his head.

"Except her issue is paying the money and ours in focusing on not getting too tired," Ivan hummed, shifting off of the leg he had been sitting on.

"Actually," China corrected as he reached for the remote, "She's not worried about paying the money, she's worried about not paying it,"

Ivan looked at him, bewildered. Alfred's face lit with confusion too.

Yao switched off the TV, to which none of them complained. "I told you I was paying attention, not that it was worth it honestly,"

"But why would she be doing that?" Alfred looked over to Ivan for explanation even as he asked Yao, though Ivan had no answer and just shrugged.

Yao bit his cheek and stood up from the couch, "Um, not sure, kind of lost that part,"

Alfred laughed and went to stand up too, but Ivan reached up and wrapped an arm around him. He reached for Yao too, but the four thousand years of instincts kicked in and he slipped away. "Omph!" Alfred exclaimed as Ivan brought him into a hug, wriggling a little bit but not seriously attempting to escape.

Yao stared down at them awkwardly as America sank into the hug a little bit more. It felt nice, and Ivan's perpetually cold hands weren't actually touching his skin, so he wasn't even slightly uncomfortable.

"Are you going to kiss right now," Yao's awkwardness stayed in his voice.

Ivan busted out laughing, but America blushed at the prospect. It sounded nice actually.

"Like the pair in the movie- what were their names?" Ivan added, chest still shaking a bit with laughter. America shook his head, tempted to jump up out of embarrassment. Neither of those characters were good enough kissers to represent him! Yao laughed along with Ivan, clearly amused by the blonde's apparent mortification.

"No," Alfred fought his way out of Ivan's grip light heartedly, "Like a superhero and another superhero! I'm so much better than her,"

"Or him," Yao added, "The guy wasn't all that either, not at kissing,"

Ivan shook his head, "The poor actors probably felt awkward, I feel bad making fun of them,"

"You're right," Yao nodded. Then he glanced over at Alfred suspiciously, "Let's address how Alfred knows superheroes are good at it instead,"

Once again laughing hard, Ivan dropped back onto the couch from his attempt to get up.

Smiling, Yao took a step back and crossed his arms. "I'm a superman and America truther now guys,"

Ivan laughed even harder as Alfred spluttered to defend himself. But he was enjoying himself. Yes, this was much better than the movie was. It had been a good idea to hang out after all.

_

that was really fun 😮 i might do the other prompts i haven't done yet too ...

Thanks for the heads up anon- and beautiful writing as always :)

[rusamechuweek2022]

hi !

it's been super long, but i went through my writing again and i was wondering if i can make more writing even though ive already made an entry for every day?

i mean, with different prompts, of course

i hope youre doing well!!

-💞anon

Hi again! Yes, you can make more writing, with different prompts or not. :)

If you do, I'll be super happy to read it and post it! Your contributions to the week were awesome. <3

[rusamechuweek2022]

I mean, even with his throat cut open, he’s kind of cute.

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Russia gets hurt, but thankfully his teammate is here to help him.

Ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/37281124

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Rpg setting my beloved.

I search for any excuse to write a flying fic I swear.

Frick posting these in order, I finished this one and not the two before it, I’m posting it now. XD (I know that this is like… two weeks late. Ignore it.)

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Words: 2,859

Tws: Throat injury (Just in the beginning though.), winged characters

Prompt: Fantasy Setting/Magic

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“Okay,” China panicked, hands shaking as he tried to stop the blood that was currently spilling from his teammate’s throat, “Okay.”

Russia forced a smile up at him, but China could tell that it was a pained smile, and that scared him. He knew the wound was painful, he didn’t need proof of it, right? He also knew that Russia was trying to tell him he was fine, but he clearly wasn’t, so his efforts were fruitless. (But even though it failed to reassure him, he felt a stab of respect for Russia, it couldn’t be easy to smile when your HP was so low.)

He frantically looked up at his teammates, trying not to let his panic spread to them, “Doesn’t anyone have a healing item?” he pleaded, “Any at all?”

Instantly he could see people shuffling through their inventories, some more frantic than others, but it was America who was able to reach an item first. “Here you go,” he rambled, words clipped as he tossed the item over to China, “It’s not much but it’s all I have.”

Without missing a beat, China applied the item to Russia’s throat, ignoring the shivers of pain as the stinging medicine set in, “Anyone else?” he asked, not looking up from his work for even a second, “I don’t know if this is gonna do it.”

Someone handed him some food, and he hurriedly tore it into pieces to feed to Russia. Yeah, food wasn’t always the easiest thing to heal someone with, but it would have to do. (Italy, their healer, had gone out of a trip to look for herbs that morning, and there wasn’t a lot he could do about an injury if he didn’t know about it.)

China had a few levels in healing, but he was a warrior, and magic didn’t come easy to him. Other people in his crew had magic, America for example, but no one had high enough levels in healing to help with a wound like this. Russia was the closest to being able to help, and with his throat cut, he could hardly use the energy needed to shake his head, let alone heal something this big. (Plus, he was a mage, not a healer.)

Why then, was he the one helping? That he didn’t know. Pretty much anyone else would be more suited to this skillset, but no one else had stepped up to the job. Well, except for America. But he had quickly become too hysterical to be much help. (He had calmed down by now, but China could still see his shoulder’s shaking in fear.)

But slowly the food began to help. China was still panicking (especially when his last good bandage stained red), but he could clearly see the glowing purple fading back into Russia’s eyes. It took a moment, but his teammate was healing. However, it wasn’t until the tell tale ‘ding!’ of a wound healing that he let himself calm down for sure. (Of course, he knew that even if a wound was technically ‘healed’ it could still cause a person to lose HP, but this wasn’t a poison wound, so that shouldn’t be as huge of a problem as it could be.)

He fell back onto his heels, a relieved sigh escaping him as his heart struggled to return to a normal tempo. ‘Thank god,’ was all he could think, even when he didn’t believe in a god, ‘Thank god.’

Forgetting to be careful around his still injured teammate, China dived forward in a hug. Crushing his ribs and reveling in the very alive, ‘oof’ sound he made.

After a moment of processing the situation, the rest of his team began to cheer. (Out of the corner of his eye, he could see America frantically rubbing tears off his face, but he had another teammate to worry about at the moment.) “Russia,” he asked softly, brushing the white hair out of his eyes, “How do you feel?”

Russia took a deep breath in… and then breathed it out again. “Better,” he answered, his voice cracked and muffled from the pain resting at his throat, “Better.”

China nodded and pulled back from the hug, heart soaring as relief flooded him, “That’s good.” (Internally he told himself that that was probably a low bar to be cleared, but any bar was better than none.)

“He’s okay guys!” He called, giving the last few worriers their cue to celebrate.

He heard Russia laughing lightly from under him, and even though it was a scratchy laugh, China took it as more proof that he was okay. “Let’s get you back to the base,” he whispered, turning back to his teammate and getting an arm ready to pull him to his feet, “We can try this mission again later.”

Russia nodded and took his hand, cold fingers itching with the shock of magic that filled them. China was right, it was probably a good idea to go home.

The walk wasn’t far, and both teammates were thankful for that. (China’s knee had gotten injured in a boss fight earlier that week, and Russia was still recovering his HP from his recent throat injury.) Most of their team had stayed out on the mission, completing a small one like this wasn’t normally difficult even with less people than usual (Russia had just been unlucky), but one other person had come with them.

America.

He was an unlikely candidate to follow them back, but China didn’t tell him that. A half warrior half wizard (well, more like three fourths warrior, one fourth wizard), who barely spoke to either of them. He might have been spooked by the blood, but they were all accustomed to it, so China wasn’t exactly sure if that lined up.

“So,” he prompted, their camp in sight but still far enough away to have a short conversation, “How’s it going?”

America shook his head (since China wasn’t facing him, the only reason he knew that was because of the rapid increase of armor noises), and said, “The same as usual.”

Now, China wasn’t an expert on reading people, especially people who were wearing full suits of armor (America had put his helmet back on), but he could still tell that was a lie. But instead of pushing the subject, he casually continued, “Did you forget something back at camp? I could get it if you want to go back to the mission.”

Russia nodded, and even though he was obviously still hurting, he added, “I could also get something for you if you wanted me too.”

There was a pause where China could tell that America was blushing, but he quickly covered for himself. “No I didn’t forget anything, I just wanted to go back to camp to… um, to-”

China cut in, not wanting him to get too flustered about this, “It’s alright, you don’t have to explain.”

“Everyone needs a break sometimes,” Russia added, “You don’t need to explain why you need one.” If China hadn’t known him as well as he did, he would’ve thought that the purple eyed mage had missed how much America had been dancing the subject, but the slightest twinge of interest ticking at his teammate's voice told him the truth.

“I guess,” America muttered, clearly slightly embarrassed by the acceptance that his teammates were giving him. “Thank you.” He added suddenly, as if remembering rather quickly that ‘thank you’s where a thing.

China smiled and glanced back at him, “You’re welcome,” he looked back forward, and was pleased to see that the camp was pretty much right in front of them, “Now, it’s time to rest up a bit.”

Once they were in his tent and the bandages were swapped out for more efficient items, Russia spoke up. “What do you think he’s really doing here?” he whispered, face weirdly close to China’s, “He’s not in his tent, so he’s not resting.”

“He could be in another tent,” China said, not backing up even though their noses were nearly touching, “Or he could be by the fire.”

“He’s not.”

China didn’t ask how Russia knew that, but he believed it anyway, “Well, what do you think he’s doing?”

“I think he’s here to ask us out,”

China blinked, suddenly short circuiting from the level of truth that stained Russia’s voice, “What?”

“Well, did you see the way he was looking at you on the way back here?” Russia asked, now actually pushing his nose against China’s and making his eyes blur and duplicate in China’s vision, “Or when you were fighting that dragon?”

China blushed and backed up, suddenly flustered. “No, I didn’t notice,” admiting that made him feel sort of stupid, because thinking back on it now, it was quite obvious, “Why’d you say ‘us’ then? If he was just looking at me?”

Russia giggled and leaned back a little, “The team’s been making bets on when we’d get together,” China felt his mouth fall open as he continued, “You probably didn’t notice because of that new magic skill you’ve been picking up.”

“But why- why would-?” He felt his face redden, “I didn’t- I don’t-”

“Don’t what?” Russia asked innocently, “Think I’m cute?”

China’s thoughts flashed back on memories of Russia defeating monsters, or reading through spell bocks, or teaching him little bits of magic. “No I think-,” he blushed harder, “Well I mean I don’t-'' His mind slid into the way he had felt in any of those instances, a light warmth of love in his chest, a blurring confusion in his brain telling him it was just friendship.

Russia smiled, but managed not to laugh, “That’s alright, I’ll let you figure it out.”

Trying not to think about the realization he’d just had about himself, China spluttered, “Does that mean you think I’m cute?” He asked without thinking, “Or are you just saying this because it’s funny?”

Now Russia actually did laugh, and China felt his HP flicker in embarrassment as his teammate saw right through him. “I guess I do,” he said, touching his throat awkwardly as a second ‘ding’ resonated from it, “You are pretty smart after all.”

“Apparently not smart enough to realize you like men,” China gawked, not admitting to himself that he had also not realized that he liked men, “Specifically me,”

Russia grinned and clambered to his feet, “What do you say about America then? Since you don’t want to talk about how you feel about me?”

China forced himself not to blush anymore and stood up after him, “Well, I’d have to know him better first, wouldn’t I?”

Russia nodded and smiled, “Of course you would, people need time to figure stuff out,” he jabbed him in the side friendly, “And you seem to have a lot of stuff to figure out right now.”

China yelped indignantly and jabbed him back, but he couldn’t find the words to retort with, so he settled with just that. Russia laughed and lightly slapped away his hand, sending an accidental shock of magic through his teammate, “Come on, let’s go talk to him.”

As they emerged from the tent, China let the sunlight blind him as he tried to cool the heat from his ears. (Any distraction was a good distraction, as far as he was concerned.)

“America!” Called Russia, voice still scratchy from his injury, “America?”

China blinked a few times and looked around, but their teammate wasn’t in the camp. “I wonder where he’s gone,” he mused, “Is he in his tent?”

“No,” Russia told him, and he sounded worried enough that China didn’t even think to ask how he knew, “No he’s not.”

“Don’t worry,” he reassured him, “He’s probably around camp somewhere,”

Russia nodded, but he didn’t look so sure.

They spent a few minutes searching, but it quickly became clear that the warrior wizard wasn’t anywhere in the camp. (Even so, they searched for a bit longer, but with each second they didn’t find America, Russia got more and more worried.) “We’ll find him,” China said carefully, “He might have gone out for items, right?”

Again, Russia nodded, but also again, he didn’t sound like he believed him entirely.

“We can fly there,” China added, “You’re healed enough to do the spell, right?”

Russia cheered up then, he loved flying, and neither of them could deny that it was an effective way to get around, “Of course,” he said, metaly flicking through spells and letting his eyes flick between colors for them, “Of course I am.”

China smiled and nodded, his new attachment to his teammate glowing in his chest with the magic now spilling from his hands. It was time to fly.

“Let’s go!” Russia grinned, solidifying his ghostly wings behind him, their feathery surfaces fading into something fluffy and real and his spell was completed. (And with the regular shock, China felt wings of his own begin to form.)

Taking off was a pain, like it always was, but it only took him three tries this time, and that had to count for something. (Russia was more practiced, so it only took him one, but he encouraged him the whole way. Even landing again to show him how high he had to jump a second time.) China felt a blush spread across his face then, and maybe that feeling of caring was what got him into the air for sure.

“Okay,” China yelled over the wind, still fumbling with the rhythm of his wings on the air, “Which way do you want to go first?”

By some miracle, Russia heard him, “I was thinking towards the forest,” he yelled back, “If he’s looking for items, that’s the best place to get a variety.”

China nodded and tried not to drop too far inbetween wingbeats, “Lead the way!”

Russia smiled and China felt the warmth in him grow as he swooped off to the west. He was so graceful, so confident in the air, and China had to respect him for it. (Even when following him was a little bit difficult.)

Screaming across the sky, the two looked towards the ground for their teammate. Wind cut right through their hair and feathers, but China’s cloak was surprisingly resistant to the cold, and for that he was thankful. He beat his wings and soared a bit higher. Even though flying was hard work, and he was cold and already tiring, he had to admit that he felt free. (Free enough to almost forget their lost teammate, or how beautiful Russia looked flying below him. …but that was seriously an almost.)

He stretched his arms out like his wings, even though the push of the wind fought to keep them at his sides. There was something nice about it.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Russia folding his wings into a dive, heading for the forest that they suspected America to be walking through. China gave a final half hearted flap of his wings, and followed. Wings were generated the first time the spell was set on a person, and they could be different for everyone, so all he could say was that he was thankful he was a bird meant to dive.

It just felt right.

He sped towards the trees, cutting past Russia with a ‘whoop!’ of pure joy. He was going so fast, and the wind rushed past him even faster. It filled his ears and mouth, tearing his joyful screams from his mouth and tearing them apart like a blender. Gradually he put out his wings, using them in an unnaturally practiced way as he swooped up again, moving in a wave over the rushing trees.

Happily, he glanced behind himself, and quickly spotted Russia following him, a look of impressed shock on his face. China didn’t blame him, he hadn’t known he could do that either.

But after a few more minutes, the rush of joy wore off, and he could feel his aching muscles all over again. (Thankfully for him though, not a minute after he noticed the tiredness, Russia let out a shout of recognition and circled in for a landing.)

The landing was appropriately difficult, but watching his more practiced teammate do it first helped. And plus, they were landing in a clearing, so it wasn’t nearly as difficult as it could have been. Still though, he managed to scrape his knee the second he made contact with the grassy ground. It didn’t matter though, because on the other end of the clearing, America was picking flowers.

He had his helmet off, so China could clearly see the shock on his face as he shook out his wings. “America!” he yelled, throwing his arms up into the air, “We’ve been looking for you!”

“You- You have?” he stuttered, a blue blush spreading over his face, “Really?”

“Yeah!” Russia called, voice finally back to normal (it had been a good healing item in the end), “And we’ve got something to tell you!”

China snickered as America’s mouth fell open, and in that moment, they all knew that they were all just a bit more than teammates now.

[rusamechuweek2022]

Okay! Here's my official goodbye post for this event.

Thank you to everyone who entered, sincerely. It's been super fun to run this and I might do something like it again in the future. :D

If you still have entries that you haven't completed: worry not! Although I won't be routinely checking the tag anymore, you can still send me an ask if you want your entry reblogged. (I also have a few late ones lol, so don't feel like you're wasting anyone's time.)

Again, thank you all! ❤

[rusamechuweek2022]

This event is over! But...

If you want to use any of the prompts feel free to do so! (Here they are: https://rusamechuweek2022.tumblr.com/post/673465759064866816/prompt-list)

Just make sure you're following the rules if you plan on submitting. (https://rusamechuweek2022.tumblr.com/information or https://rusamechuweek2022.tumblr.com/post/673754411154194432/information btw)

Since I won't be routinely checking the tag (I might on my own time) send an ask letting me know if you want me to reblog your entry! The only reasons I won't are if A) I don't see the ask B) I've left Tumblr or C) it breaks an important rule. :')

-

(This blog’s icon is a stock image and the header image, which doesn’t show up on all computers, is edited by me using https://pixlr.com/ and some of Transparentalia’s edits.)

[rusamechuweek2022]

Alright! That's everything in the ask box and that I can see in the tag!

Please continue to submit after this post! I just have to go to bed soon. :) I'll have a more official 'end of event' post when I wake up or somethin'

In the meantime, thank you to everyone who participated! I love all your entries, this has been awesome!!!

[rusamechuweek2022]

Rusamechu week 2022

Day 6: Dancer AU.

Not sure if this counts as an edit or a meme D:

Anyway, I think these three would be awesome dancers, probably Alfred would be the newest addition but he'll be dramatic AF.

The original image is a Baryshnikov poster, also under the cut.

[rusamechuweek2022]

(💞anon) RusAmeChu drabble 7 - holding hands

Ivan's hands were perpetually cold. All the time.

Alfred had warm hands, a little too warm almost.

Yao though he had a normal hand temperature, but because of how two boyfriend's constant body temperatures he found that both of them were constantly complaining about how cold or hot they were. To him though, they were completely normal.

"Jeez," Yao shook his head, "You're hands are more extreme temperatures, I don't know why you're always complaining about mine..."

"Because," Alfred said in a very intellectual way, "When I hold Ivan's hands I freeze to death,"

"I'm pretty sure that's an exaggeration," Yao glanced at him.

Ivan snorted, "Well Alfred, when I hold your hands it feels like I'm being burnt,"

"On fire?" Alfred smiled at him.

"Totally."

Yao shook his head, "If it's so much worse, why complain about me?"

"We're just kidding!" Alfred blinked at him, seemingly confused.

Laughing, Yao tut tutted at his boyfriend. "I know that,"

Ivan reached over and touched Alfred's cheek. Impulsively. Alfred shrieked and jumped back, pulling Yao with him to nearly fall off the couch. "AAH! Ivan, you-!" Laughing, Ivan dogged out of the way of Yao's elbow and Alfred's outstretched hand. "I'm not kidding dude!!" Alfred shook his head, "You're hands are so cold!"

"And yours are warm!" Ivan dogged another outstretched poke from Alfred, "No need to burn me!"

Caught up between them, Yao was forced to press himself back against the couch. "Oh- guys, calm down!" Almost as a response, Alfred's hand collided with his jaw. "Ow! Alfred!"

Alfred looked horrified, "I'm so sorry- are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Yao rubbed his cheek, "You didn't even hit me that hard,"

"Okay," Alfred said, drawing back and sitting a little more calmly. As Yao rubbed his cheek, Ivan eyed Alfred's guilty expression. Suddenly, he reached out and grabbed both of his blonde boyfriend's hands. Alfred shrieked again and they were thrown back into the playful fight. Yao shook his head and let Alfred crawl over him to continue the fight with Ivan.

"Just don't hurt each other," he smiled, shaking his head.

( 😊 thank you so so so much for this event !!!! I enjoyed it very much~ )

--- No- thank YOU anon! Your contributions have been awesome. :")

[rusamechuweek2022]

(💞anon) RusAmeChu drabble 6 - fantasy setting / magic

( sorry it could maybe be seen as suggestive )

"You know, for the Prince who saved the Princess, you're not exactly into women as much as I expected," Alfred commented, swinging his sword haphazardly back and forth.

Prince Yao shot him a glance. "You know for a knight, you're not that invested in the royal's business... She's like a sister to me,"

"Hm," Alfred hummed, letting his sword hang loosely in his hand. He stared off the edge of the balcony to the sunset. "A sister? Is she up for grabs?" He shot a playful smirk the Prince's way.

Yao pushed him as lightly as possible. "Stop kidding around, you know she's not allowed to marry a knight!"

"I know that?" Alfred laughed and gently pushed him back. There was no one around to say he deserved banishment for touching the Prince there, so why not be playful?

"Sure you do," Yao smirked, pushing him against the railing. Alfred exclaimed in surprise as Yao tipped him back, hanging half over the balcony. "Admit defeat!" he joked.

"Nah-!" Alfred laughed, though it sounded weak, his hands clinging hard to Yao's cloak. Even if the Prince wouldn't drop him purposefully, it was still comforting to be anchored on to the ground. "Never!"

Yao leaned closer, eyes glinting in a way that seemed to exhibit his magic powers. His breath was warm against the knight's chin. "You have to..."

Then, the door to the balcony banged open. Prince Yao jolted back, quite nearly dropping Alfred for real that time. Alfred yelped and wrapped a leg around Yao's back in panic. In the doorway, the guest from the other kingdom stopped in his tracks. Prince Ivan of the Elven Kingdom to the west.

"I-" he stopped. Taking a step back, "Did I... interrupt something?"

Yao's face went bright red but Alfred didn't seem to understand. "Naw man," he laughed, waving a hand, "We're just joking around," He untangled himself from Yao and went over and bowed to Prince Ivan, who took another step back, seeming almost scared, "Aren't you Prince Ivan?"

"Yes..." the elf Prince nodded slowly, "I- yes I am. Are you...?"

"I'm a Knight," Alfred introduced himself, "the name's Alfred Jones, that over there," he jabbed a finger at Yao (who cowered away). "That's Prince Yao,"

"He knows," Yao flushed. Ivan seemed to blush too, smiling to himself, "We've met,"

Alfred looked between them and seemed confused. He didn't need to know that the reason Ivan was there was for an arranged marriage with the other Prince.

--- Anon I love your writing!!

[rusamechuweek2022]

(💞anon) RusAmeChu drabble 5 - comforting

"I just-! I just spilled coffee over my entire- oh my god, no I..."

"Alfred?" Ivan yelped and grabbed his shoulders, "Alfred calm down!"

Yao held up his hands to help calm him, "Alfred it's okay,"

"I just, I can't- hey!" Alfred exclaimed as Ivan put his hands on either side of Alfred's face and pulled him away from staring at the ruined painting.

Ivan stared deep into his eyes, "Alfred calm down, it's alright, we can clean it up,"

"But that's my final project..." Alfred breathing sounded shallow and panicky.

"We can clean it up," Yao repeated, picking up the canvas as gently as possible. "The paint isn't too wet, we just need to be gentle with it,"

Alfred tore his face away from Ivan's comforting grasp, "But it'll smear!"

"IF it does," Yao's voice sounded as forceful as it did calm, "You can always redo it, you're good at painting,"

"But it's my final..." Alfred frowned. Then Ivan was pulling him away again.

"We can fix it, we can fix it together if you'd want,"

Alfred's frown deepened, though he seemed distracted from the panic of his art final's state. "But-"

"Nonsense," Yao shook his head, already gently dabbing at the painting with a clean rag, "See- it's coming off already!"

Alfred nearly smacked Ivan in the face as he whipped around, "The paint?!"

"No!" Yao jumped back, making sure Alfred didn't bump him and mess up the cleaning process, "Jesus Alfred, calm down! The coffee! The coffee's coming off, what's wrong with you?" He said it in a joking tone, at the end, but his expression really was telling of him needing to calm down.

Alfred backed up, "Sorry, sorry I-"

"It's okay," Ivan hushed him, "How about you go get another piece of cloth? You can help him then,"

"Okay," Alfred said quietly, "okay,"

Yao smiled tiredly at Ivan over Alfred's shoulder.

Ivan smiled back as he walked away with Alfred, then turned to his blonde boyfriend. "No more super late studying nights for you, right? This is what always happens..." he scolded jokingly.

In the end, Alfred's painting was fine.

--- I love this one anon! Beautiful work.

[rusamechuweek2022]

(💞anon) RusAmeChu drabble 4 - childhood

Alfred, Ivan, and Yao. Best friends since practically birth.

Growing up in a super small town with barely any other children than the ones at school who came from other small towns would do that.

With no one else to play with, they would run through the fields and laugh and play in the stream (not caring that their clothes were getting wet or their hands dirty in the mud). Sometime they would come over to each others houses when it was raining and play with the pots and pans in the kitchen, or fool around near the table, pretending it was a forest of trees in some far away place.

Alfred's favorite spot in the woods was just outside of Ivan's house, Yao's favorite was some place off the trail behind Alfred's, and Ivan didn't really like the woods that much but he said his favorite place was near Yao's house just so he didn't feel left out. Alfred had a favorite field too, because it was funny to watch Ivan slipping around in the mud every time he tried to walk through it. Yao didn't really like watching that, because he usually fell over too.

But their favorite places wasn't really the important part. It was each other, since they were their favorite people.

A trio, inseparable.

In school, other kids would joke about all three of them as if they were on person. On their report cards, their teachers would leave notes about them all together. Their parents joked about it too.

And it felt right, for it to be all three of them.

Just them.

( sorry it's messy aa )

--- No anon I think it's very cute :)

[rusamechuweek2022]

(💞anon) RusAmeChu drabble 3 - making up

"Sorry I got mad at you," Alfred sighed.

Ivan sat on the couch between Alfred and Yao, acting as some sort of mediator. "Okay," he nodded, "You've apologized, now Yao,"

"It's okay, I'm sorry for getting mad too," Yao stared down at his feet, avoiding both of his boyfriends' eyes.

They sat in silence. Alfred sniffed and ran a finger under his nose. Yao's breaths were soft enough that it seemed he wasn't even breathing. "Guys," Ivan started, "Do you..." he trailed off and said nothing else.

Yao responded after a moment, "Do we what?"

"Nothing,"

There was more silence.

Then Alfred got up off the couch. Yao looked up at him, confused. Then Alfred turned and looked down at him, reaching out a hand. "Sorry," he apologized again. It sounded more genuine that this.

Yao looked taken aback almost and his face flushed in confusion. "Uh," he sniffed, "Huh?" But then Alfred was hugging him, face pressed into his shoulder, golden hair threatening to poke his eyes. "Alfred?" Yao asked, confused.

Ivan looked at them in surprise, but he didn't seem upset or anything. In fact, he looked happy.

"Sorry," Alfred apologized again, "I get angry too quickly and you didn't even do anything wrong, I'm sorry,"

Yao hugged him back as he looked over at Ivan for back up. "Stop apologizing," he stuttered, "You're freaking me out..."

Alfred shifted over and sat down on the couch, arms still wrapped around Yao. The latter was pulled away from his staring contest with Ivan as he too was twisted over to face the hug. But it wasn't bad. It felt nice, actually.

After some time, Yao felt Ivan's arms wrapping around him from the back. Silently because there was nothing to say. But contentedly in a way that seemed to say that every would be okay. And it would. Everything would be fine.

--- Sweet as always anon! This is so cute. ;0;

[rusamechuweek2022]

(💞anon) RusAmeChu drabble 2 - board game

"Hey," Yao said, frowning. "Why do you two always team up on me?"

Alfred laughed (loudly), "Because we want to defeat you!" But at the same time, Ivan spoke. He spoke quieter than the blonde, but in a voice that seemed to demand attention no matter what mood he was in.

"You're too good at this game," he smiled, "So we want to win against you!"

Yao shook his head, sighing. "It's just candy land, I don't know why you're so serious about it,"

"I don't know how you let us team up on you," Alfred snickered, reaching into the deck of cards. "It's not like you don't know that we're reorganizing the cards, that's the only way to cheat!"

He wasn't trying to show it, but Yao smiled. Of course he let them, it wasn't a serious game. There was no reason not to fool around, it was just for fun. And the game finished, Alfred making it to the finish line first. Ivan was right behind him, Yao still a bunch of spaces back.

"That's always a good game," Ivan commented, though he sent Alfred a half joking glare due to being left in second place.

Yao hummed, beginning to clean up the table, "Do you want to play another game? I was thinking Risk,"

"Noooo," Alfred shook his head, "That's too boring, how about the one that has trains in it?"

"Settlers of Catan?" Ivan interjected, "I like that one,"

As he put the board back into it's plastic bag, Yao hummed again. "Or Shoots and Ladders,"

"There are too many good choices!" Alfred groaned, rubbing his forehead.

"How about all of them?" Ivan asked.

Yao looked at the clock. It was late... but it was a weekend. He smiled. "Sure, why not."

--- Thanks for the writing. :)

[rusamechuweek2022]

( 💞anon ) RusAmeChu drabble 1 - party / dance

Alfred wasn't very good at dancing , at least not like Ivan was . They danced in different ways , one hip hop and the other more traditional , a ballet style . Yao could dance too , though he didn't have expertise in any type of it .

So when they were all invited to a traditional ball, with the dance style being ballroom ( as expected ) , Alfred was panicking just a little bit . It was an official dance and he felt like the only one who was going to make a mistake .

Luckily , Ivan and Yao are ready to teach him before the big day .

" Just hold my hand okay ? " Ivan said , " I can guide you , "

" Okay , " Alfred hummed .

Yao watched from nearby , and as Ivan and Alfred began to step he added direction for how Alfred was supposed to move his feet . At first the process was messy but after a little while the American began to get a hang of it .

Soon enough they were laughing and swinging around , Yao occasionally jumping in and taking Alfred's place . Then they were spinning to each other , trading positions and laughing all the while , since they were an odd number and couldn't all ballroom dance at the same time .

That didn't matter , the three were enjoying themselves .

At long last Ivan came to a stop , leaning over and putting his hands on his knees , clearly out of breath . " Well , " he looked up at his partners , " Can you dance now Alfred ? "

Yao laughed and patted him on the back , " I guess we'll have to wait and see ? "

Blushing to himself , Alfred nodded . " I think I have it down now , thanks to you guys , "

Ivan smiled , " Of course ! I'd love to teach you more dances sometime , "

" That sounds great , " Alfred smiled , and Yao did too .

--- This was very cute anon! Thanks for submitting.

[rusamechuweek2022]

RusAmeChu Day 2

[rusamechuweek2022]

Rusamechu week 2022

Day 6: Fantasy Setting/Magic

The baker's apprentice.

The forest was grim, Alfred's feet were sinking with each step as the wind rustled the trees' leaves. The things he had to do for his job. Being Arthur's apprentice was difficult, not only was he grumpy and mysterious, the tasks assigned to Alfred were everything Arthur didn't want to do, so usually, it meant putting the dough in the oven, cleaning and delivering the products.

Speaking of delivering, he grasped the basket tighter, the smell of cinnamon grew stronger, his stomach grumbling at the thought of food. If only Arthur hadn't sent him to deliver these pastries, why did he think it was a good idea?

The walking path was divided, one followed the stone tracing and the other was simply dirt, exposed by the constant steps on it. Alfred hummed, what was the one Arthur had told him to follow?

The image of the frosting, the red cherry and the delicious smell of cinnamon filled his mind. Alfred sighed, cursing the beautiful pastries and his hungry self. He figured the best looking path was the correct one, he didn't want to get hunted by the forest spirit for trespassing it's domains, with hasty steps he resumed his deed.

The more he walked, the colder he felt, the forest green and brown tones turned into whites and blues. The stone path led him into an opening in the forest, a snowed cabin grew visible, smoke coming out of the chimney.

Alfred smiled, a warm house and a bit of chocolate would pay for his long walk, he wondered what kind of old lady lived here. Arthur usually spoke with a lot of those, exchanging herbs and spices though he didn't know how to use them on the food, at least not the salty one.

He knocked, hearing heavy steps approaching, the door opened revealing a tall form covered in fur. Alfred stepped back, a scream escaped him at the sight of a bear head, the pearly white fangs glinting as it opened its mouth and growled.

A bear, he had a bear in front of him, an angry looking bear that was three times his size, Arthur wasn't paying him enough for this.

His feet worked faster than the rest of his body, the basket was thrown and he ran, he ran as fast as he could, between the trees, scratching himself with the branches and tripping.

He hissed as his knees and elbows scraped against the dirt. Turning back he saw no one, he dusted his clothes, inspecting the place. Nothing, only trees and snow, a deer skull approaching and more snow.

A chill ran down his spine, a deer skull approaching? This was bad, this was horrendous, Alfred tried to stand up, whining at a sharp pain on his ankle. The deer skull was attached to a body, or so he thought, a dark tunic fell covering the figure. He was doomed.

Alfred widened his eyes, his heart was beating hastily, he was sure it would burst out of his rib cage at any moment. From behind, a growl was heard, Alfred didn't dare to look back, he was going to die either eaten by a bear or by the forest spirit. Damn Arthur and his work, if he became a ghost after this, he would surely haunt him non-stop.

The heavy steps behind halted and Alfred felt a warm breath on the back of his neck. His body trembled violently and his eyes clenched tightly.

He waited, for the pain, for the burn of a scratch, for something, but only a slippery thing graced his cheek, then a soft but heavy form nuzzled his head.

"Ivan, you are scaring him."

Alfred opened his eyes as a hand was placed on his shoulder. The dark sockets of the deer stared at him, Alfred grimaced, another scream left his lips.

The bear growled again and Alfred cowered against the other figure, if he was about to die, he might as well try the less painful death.

His mouth was covered by a hand, the figure behind him whispered. "Shhh, Ivan's ears are more sensitive than ours right now, don't make so much noise."

Alfred nodded, shutting his mouth as the animal calmed down. It approached him again, licking his cheek, a harmless act if only Alfred didn't see the rows of teeth when it opened its mouth.

"It's fine, I know all of this must be scary, but I assure you we mean no harm to you. You were supposed to deliver this at my home though,"

Alfred nodded at the entity's words, it's not like he had much of a choice. He was picked up by the dark figure and placed on top of the bear. His fear turned into excitement, he was riding a bear, who else had an anecdote like this?

He hoped to live to tell the tale.

They led him into the cabin again, the basket still lay on the snow covered floor. The deer headed figure picked it up, but they kept advancing, further into the forest, a small house covered in vines and red flowers grew visible, the entity caressed the petals of one of the flowers and the vines retreated, allowing him to open the door and letting them inside.

He was gently carried to a chair, a soft blanket was thrown on his shoulders. Alfred ran his fingers through the fabric, looking at the bear. It was strange, the animal placed itself on a chair, sitting, like a person.

His eyes widened as the other figure removed the deer head, revealing long brown hair and a gentle face. Alfred's mouth wavered as he spoke. "Why didn't you take that off before? I thought you were going to eat me!"

"Again. Lower your voice." The other hummed, placing the basket on the table. "Don't be so confident in your words, if this is messed up, I will eat you to the bones."

Alfred tensed at the words, a cold sweat went down his forehead as the other inspected the basket. Please, please, Arthur's pastries had to be fine.

"Everything is fine." the man said, a smile creeping on his lips. He hummed, giving him a pat on the head before feeding the bear with the pastries.

Alfred was astonished at how careful the bear was, opening its mouth and waiting until the other retrieved its hand, it seemed to even savour the food instead of devouring it.

He watched in awe as the bear turned into a man, the heavy fur became a coat. The dark eyes of the bear turned violet and Alfred wasn't sure if it soothed him or unsettled him more.

"There you are, Ivan'' the brown haired man beamed, caressing his cheek. "Now what did you learn from this?"

"I'm sorry, Yao," The other man averted his gaze, fidgeting with his hands. "I won't drink the red potions ever again,"

"No! You don't have to drink anything from my cabinet, ever!"

Alfred chuckled at the display in front of him, the ex bear-man was bigger than both of them, yet he was scolded as a little child, his laughter gained the attention of the two.

"Now, what do we do with you?"

"I think we could turn him into a bird, you saw how noisy he was,"

"Don't be so mean," Yao said, reaching for the cabinet and taking a small bottle with a green viscous liquid inside. "Drink this,"

"No way," Alfred shook his head. "You just told him not to drink from there, why should I do it? I don't want to be a bear or a bird,"

"It's for something else," Yao sighed, placing the bottle in front of him and opening it, he poured some of the liquid on a kerchief and placed it on Alfred's arm, the scratches from before healed immediately. "See, it's for your ankle,"

Alfred nodded, taking the bottle and downing it's content, it had no taste but the consistency was thick and it made him gag. His aching foot felt cold, and the pain subdued into a faint itch.

"See? I told you he'd be a decent bird," Ivan said, standing up and stretching his back. "He was quite heavy too,"

"You were licking him quite a lot, I thought you liked him,"

"I only did so because he smelled like a cupcake, a vanilla one at that," Ivan huffed, approaching him again and patting his head. "Tell Arthur to send me some of those, the edible ones,"

Alfred stayed for some time, relinquishing the warm soup and the amiable chatting. The cabin was a tad somber with herbs and animal's figures around, but once the coldness left him, he grew comfortable in there.

Leaving was harder than he thought it would be, not because they were holding him back, but because it felt like a small moment of coziness and tranquility he did not have back in town.

The forest seemed livelier as he made his way back, his stomach was full and his heart beat steadily, racing up every time he thought about returning. Being Arthur's apprentice seemed to have some perks after all.