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shepherd-of-the-stars · 5 years ago

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Artificial

My submission for @hetabang ! Hope you like it!

Word count: 3,590

Summary: Novovol, Russia, the 36th century. The people of this new age have formed two distinct societies: those of the upper world, high in the sky in pearly cities, and those of the lower world, living on junkyard scraps and breathing polluted air. These societies, both run on fear and power, were meant to forever stay separate. But one night, an android fell from the sky and broke through the barrier that divided them. An android who has no memory, not even his own name, programmed to be a companion, but also a guard. His weapons system had been upgraded illegally, and without proper maintenance, could prove to be dangerous and unstable. Ivan, one of the best mechanics of the lower world, fixes him up and gives him a name; Alfred. Together, they go on an adventure, discovering things about their world, themselves, and their feelings.

Chapter summary: Ivan ventures into the junkyard to dig through the heaps for useful treasures, his almost nightly activity. One wild decision changes the course of his life.

Warnings: brief mentions of death and bodies, hints at abuse(through scars)

Rating: T (to be changed)

Chapter 1: Hell’s Wasteland

The cold night air did wonders in smothering the noxious scents that blanketed the junkyard like a fog. While the sun’s heat cooked them and made them more powerful, nighttime forced them into hiding. The stench of death and rusted metal was enough to make a normal person retch, but Ivan frequented the location often enough that it was nothing but a minor nuisance.

With his scarf pulled up to cover his nose and goggles to protect his eyes from the chemicals and dust, he weaved through the heaps of filth, looking for treasures hidden amongst the trash. His mechanical pack mule followed behind him dutifully with its heavy, steel feet making square indents in the hard dirt. The droid was bulky and large, similar to the size of its namesake, but its well oiled parts allowed it to move silently. The only noise that came from it was when the luggage it carried clashed into each other inside the bins on its back.

This machine, that Ivan had built from scraps and named Buster, carried his maker's oddments so that Ivan could dig through the heaps freely. Every couple feet, the man stopped to poke through the collection of garbage and junk to pick out pieces that he could use for his work. There was a time when he'd jump at every eerie thing he found, but after years of coming here, those things only made his heart skip just a little.

Spotting a human-like leg sticking out from a pile, Ivan scanned it with his device and waited. "Artificial, 20% damage," it said, allowing Ivan to release his breath and drag the limb out so he could toss it into his bins. He had learned the hard way that it was better to be safe than to drag out a corpse.

It was one of the reasons the place was nicknamed "Hell's Wasteland." Broken androids tossed out here made it look like the place was littered with human bodies. The gangs saw that as an opportunity and began to dispose of their enemies here, hence the smell of decay. No one but vultures like Ivan went through here. No one would ever see. And even if someone did, the law would never listen to someone who only had 2 sets of clothes and ate crumbs for meals.

What was once a scrap yard had now turned into a dumping ground. After the owners had disappeared, no one was left to take over. Local rumors said that the owners were still on the land, buried under rotten food and broken refrigerators. “If you listen closely, you can hear them crying,” they would say, “they’re waiting for someone to rescue them. But once you get close enough, they’ll snatch your body and use it as their own.”

But Ivan knew better than to listen to wild stories of ghosts and possession. He knew after many visits that it was the cries of cats. When they yowled in the night, it sounded like a child who had lost their guardian, or perhaps someone who was in pain. And since they ran away at the slightest sound, it was no surprise many people have never seen the source of the sound.

Just then, that exact sound that people dreaded hearing pierced through the air and struck Ivan’s heart with chilling fear. He knew it was only a cat, but even the bravest of men would flinch at a shrill noise breaking silence. Head tilted towards the night sky, he listened, waiting for the sound to meet him again.

When it came, he followed it with the stealth of an assassin. Even the slightest disturbance could send them running, and Ivan didn’t want to miss his chance of seeing a cute cat.

With every step, he drew closer, which meant the cat had not discovered him yet. Maybe this time he would be able to catch it and bring it home. Then again, his budget could barely support his sisters and himself. To add another mouth to feed, that would leave them eating out of the dumpster. But one could dream. A small part of him hoped that the soft clanging of metal in Buster’s bins scared the cat away so he wouldn’t have false hope.

But things never seemed to turn out his way. As he peeked out from behind an overturned car, he spotted the cat that had been yowling for attention and finally understood why it had not run.

What he saw was an unfortunate black cat stuck in a discarded raccoon trap, its paw reaching out past the bars in an attempt to open the spring doors. Ivan approached it slowly, his large body hunched over in an attempt to make himself smaller for the cat. The mental image of himself looking like a crooked, old witch approaching their animal apprentice crossed his mind and made him smile.

“Don’t scratch me, please,” he whispered after tugging down his scarf, “I’m just trying to help you.”

Back arched and hairs standing straight, the cat was not happy at all that such a big creature was so close while it was defenseless. It hissed and swatted at Ivan’s hands when he got too close, but eventually, the human proved to be trustworthy.

He didn’t make any sudden movements, and for that, the small creature was thankful. Slowly, it relaxed, pressing itself against the corner of the cage instead of trying to shred Ivan’s helping hand.

“You’re very beautiful. I will call you Novi. Do you like that?” He smiled down at the black cat that stared at him with wide, wary eyes. The cage jolted and clicked when it was finally opened and the cat took off with such speed, he could see bits of the ground scatter as her claws tore it up.

Ivan let out a soft grunt of disappointment watching her disappear behind a pile of garbage bags. “What? No ‘thank you’? That’s a little bit rude.” He chuckled at his own silliness before walking back over to his droid. “Did you get that, Buster?”

Those keywords made the droid open his sealed mouth with a click. Ivan reached between the spiked teeth to grab a cord to connect to his phone while Buster’s eyes flashed red to verify his identity. They turned blue when the iris scan passed the test, his tail wagging as his defense mode was disengaged. Only Ivan, his sisters, and people he approved had access to Buster’s security files. If anyone else had tried it, the jaws would clamp shut with enough force to take their hand clean off their body.

With a few taps, he was able to see what his droid’s eyes had recorded. Crystal clear footage of Ivan interacting with the cat popped up on his screen. The quality was good enough that Ivan could pause and zoom in on it just to get a closer look. He took a screenshot and smiled.

“Send this image to Kat. Caption it, ‘rescued a cat from a raccoon cage. Named it Novi. Can I keep it?’ Message complete.” He continued to scrub through the video as he waited for the droid to do as he said.

The droid went completely still for a few seconds then moved his head in a nodding motion once it was done. He spoke in a human-like voice with a slight mechanical buzz. “Message sent to Kat: Rescued a cat from a raccoon cage. Named it Novi. Can I keep it? Image attached.”

“Good boy.” Ivan pat him on the head twice before disconnecting the cord and tapping his chin, making his steel jaws slam shut. Turning to the left, he began to return to his previous task but Buster stood firm.

“Novi spotted.”

Ivan stopped, turning back to the droid. “What?”

“Novi spotted,” he repeated, looking straight ahead.

He followed the eyes of his droid until he saw what his target was. There, standing on top of an old monitor, was Novi. Her tail swayed in the air playfully, as if waiting for Ivan to notice. “Are you back to thank me?” He asked the question as if he expected an answer.

Novi stared at him, completely still except her tail, then she blinked and hopped off the pile of scraps. Ivan had expected her to run a second time, but she turned back to look at him and waited.

“Buster,” he said, his eyes not leaving the cat.

The droid chimed once.

“Choice: Follow, or don’t follow.”

The droid chimed twice. “Choice: Follow, or don’t follow. I choose follow.”

Ivan hesitated. “Buster, what’s my luck today?”

Two chimes again. “Your luck today is amazing! Who knows what will happen when you take a chance!”

“Take a chance,” he repeated under his breath. Every fiber of his being was screaming to him that this was just like the start of a horror movie, but he took a deep breath and began walking towards the cat. “Maybe she will show me her kittens. Yes. This will be good. I have good luck today.”

Even as he told himself this, his hands were cold and clammy from nervousness. A black cat on a full moon wanted to lead him somewhere. It didn’t seem like a good sign. Any rational person would ignore this stray animal. It could be a trap. Maybe demons. Or maybe Ivan was just being too superstitious.

Several times, he had attempted to turn the other direction, thinking that following a cat was just too silly, but every time Ivan tried, Novi would walk back over to Ivan and stare. Waiting. Whatever it was Novi was trying to show him, it must be important.

“Alright alright, I’m following,” he muttered after a fourth attempt to escape.

They were nearing the center of the junkyard now. The piles here were stacked so high, even Ivan had to crane his neck to catch only a small glimpse of what was at the top.

He tended to avoid this area. Located directly below the highway, it was a popular spot to toss things over the side. If one wasn’t careful, they could be crushed flat by someone tossing out their garbage. It was also very unstable. One misstep could cause the garbage to topple like an avalanche, and if one was alone, once they were buried, that would be the end.

“I don’t think I can follow you further, Novi.” Ivan watched as the cat hopped gracefully on the pile, her light body barely making the objects move. But for Ivan, every step he took made garbage tumble down the sides.

The foolish human had already come this far on his quest, and he didn't want to waste it by turning back. But one wrong step made his foot slip into the pile, a broken beer bottle cutting into his leg. It wasn't deep, but it was enough to make him hiss and stain his torn pants with blood.

Maybe it was a sign that he should stop trying to climb this mountain of garbage. The wound on his leg was small, but if it wasn't treated, it could cause an infection. “I’m sorry but this is the end of our little adventure. My sister will be very angry if I die trying to follow a cat.”

Of course, Novi gave no response. She only stared at him a while longer, looked at the highway above, then took off. At first, Ivan thought that perhaps she had run off because she knew Ivan would no longer follow, but the sound of a car door slamming shut told him otherwise.

“Oh no.” He looked up at the highway, spotting two men approaching the side, working together to carry something heavy. Ivan shouted for them to stop as he scrambled to get to the bottom, but they couldn’t hear him. From the highway to the ground was a drop almost a hundred feet. His pleads would never reach them. And even if they did, they wouldn’t care.

Ivan had only caught a glimpse of what looked like an old sofa being chucked over the edge before the impact of it crashing down into the pile caused everything to topple over. Like a mudslide, everything on the top layer tumbled to the ground, Ivan included.

He did what he could to protect himself as he fell; his limbs cut and bruised as he tried to shield his head. There was nothing he could hold on to. Nothing was stable. It only stopped when everything pooled on the ground, adding to the mountain’s size.

Buster, who had stayed on the ground while Ivan chose to climb, ran over to the spot his maker was buried. He dug him out as fast as he could, then dragged Ivan to the side where he’d be able to avoid the damage of falling garbage.

“Are you okay?” What Buster got wasn’t an answer to his question, but a smack on his metal head. “Ow.”

“You liar. You said I have good luck!” He hissed as he stood up. His clothing was torn in several places and his body was covered in filth.

Buster tilted his head to the side in confusion. “Luck readings are chosen randomly from choices you programmed into my system. If you are not satisfied with your reading, please ask ag-... Ow.” The droid was cut short when his maker smacked him again.

“Maybe if I rebooted you, you won’t be so sassy.”

“My personality is also programmed by you.”

“Stop talking.”

“Silent mode: On.”

Ivan sighed when the droid went silent. He knew it was his own fault for following a cat into such dangerous territory. Now he had to go home and tell his sister that he needed to borrow money to buy a new set of clothes. At least his scarf was okay.

He wrapped the piece of cloth back to how it was when he started his hunt and tended to all the cuts with the first aid kit kept inside his droid. Then, pretending like nothing had happened, he went back to digging through the rubble. If he was going to ask Kat for money, the least he could do was sell a couple more of his projects to earn it back. And to do that, he needed the parts.

The more he looked and the more he collected, he was beginning to believe that perhaps Buster’s reading was correct. While this area was dangerous and risky, it also held the freshest picks. He had collected so much scrap metal and spare parts that the bins grew full.

Dozens of different projects zipped through his mind. He could make a small pet droid. Maybe a drone. Or maybe he could invent something brand new! He could be rich!

A noise from the highway above only added to his excitement. He took a couple steps back from the pile, just to be safe, then watched to see what the people would toss over. “Come on. Give me something good.”

All he could see were dark figures, but the mystery of it made his heart race. It all stopped when he saw the discarded object reveal itself in the moonlight as it fell. “No way…”

Like before, the impact of the tossed object caused the pile to crumble. Anything on the surface was buried once again, but Ivan’s eyes were locked on the new addition.

He waited until the trash had settled and the men above had left before dashing over to where the object was resting. It was buried under bags of garbage and electronic trash, but Ivan had found it. It was broken and damaged, but it was unmistakably an android.

“What a beauty,” he said to himself as he admired the human-like machine. If it wasn’t for the broken skin revealing metal underneath, Ivan would have thought it was a human.

The body was built to be male, a strong one too, and it had a head of long, blond hair with a firm but pretty face. The model wasn’t one Ivan has seen in the catalogs either, so it must be custom built. Which also meant it was an expensive model. The more expensive the model, the more he could sell it for.

“Let’s see… Are you still active?” He waved a hand in front of the android’s lifeless face but gained no reaction. Snapping his fingers to try and wake it by sound did not work either. But when his hand made contact with its silicon skin, its eyes snapped open and locked on Ivan.

Ivan jumped back quickly when blue eyes flashed red. “W-wait!” He snatched up whatever he could to protect himself. Unfortunately, his weapon of choice turned out to be a bent pole. “I’m friendly. I promise.”

The android stared at him for a long time. Ivan could hear the whir of his engine as his system tried to determine whether or not Ivan was a threat. Several times, his eyes had gone dark only to flash back on again seconds later.

“Battery failure,” he whispered as a mental note, “but reaction is good.” That brought a smile to his face. With a couple quick fixes, he could have this android good as new and sell him for thousands. So no matter how long it would take, he waited.

He waited, with an eager smile, until the android relaxed his body, his eyes dimming down to a natural blue. “Identify yourself,” he spoke. His voice box was damaged, making his speech sound like he was speaking through a static tube.

"My name is Ivan. I won't hurt you," he keeps his voice calm and quiet like he had with Novi. Now that the android had calmed, he lowered his weapon and came closer until he was within his arm’s reach.

Ivan had opened his mouth to speak again, but the android’s arm shot forward and grabbed his scarf. He pulled the human down until Ivan was staring into flickering blue eyes. “Who… am I?”

"I don't know. We've only just met. But I can find out." Dig through his memory files, erase them, reboot him, sell.

"Are you ICON?" The android spoke the word as if he didn’t know the meaning.

“ICON?” Ivan paused, his train of thought halting. "I'm Ivan, not ICON. What is ICON?"

He was silent and still for a while, making Ivan believe that it was another system malfunction. But since he had continued to blink, Ivan knew it was just his mind trying desperately to process an answer. "I... don't know. My limbs are damaged. I don't believe I can walk."

"I can take you to my home.” He took a step to the side, gesturing to Buster. “I can fix you. Would you like that?"

"I lack the currency required. At least... I believe I do..." His eyes moved sluggishly from Ivan to the droid, then back again.

"I don’t require currency. Only your permission. Will you allow me to fix you?"

The android grew silent again, then slowly, he nodded. “Okay.”

"I'm going to pick you up now. Is that alright?"

"... I give you permission," he nodded again, "but become a threat and you're dead."

Ivan gave the android a nod in return before he slowly moved the junk off of him. It wasn’t until all of it was cleared that he realized the reason the android couldn’t move.

His left arm and both of the android’s legs were marked with plasma burns. The damage of it melted through the synthetic skin, past the metal plating, and scorched the circuits underneath. The pattern of the injury looked like it was done with a rope, or perhaps a whip, wrapped several times around each damaged limb. Thoughts of fixing and reselling the android quickly began to fade. Not even a machine deserved to be treated like this. The rich were truly inhumane.

“Does it hurt?”

"Of course it hurts," he gave him a puzzled look, "but that doesn't matter."

"It does matter. You shouldn't suffer. Do you want me to power you down? I promise I'll turn you on again when you're safe. It’s so you won't suffer any pain when I move you."

The android frowned, his face scrunched up in distrust. "How can I trust you?"

"I guess you'll just have to. But I won't force you to agree."

The android had no reason to trust Ivan. They had only just met. If Ivan was a dishonest person, he could shut Alfred down, take him apart, and resell every piece for a good price. Both parties knew that. But Buster had predicted that today was Ivan's lucky day, and that prediction showed to be true. The android, who couldn’t even process his own memories, had decided to trust him.

“Fine,” he said, his voice soft. “Turn… turn me off. But I’m trusting you.”

"You're making the right decision. I'll speak to you again soon. I’m turning you off now." He reached forward slowly, praying that the android wouldn’t activate his defenses once again. His fingers felt around the back of his neck until he grazed across a circular dent.

For a second, his fingers rested there as he stared into the android’s eyes. He recognized the fear, the panic and uncertainty, but if Ivan was going to move him without hurting him, he would need to be shut down.

“You can trust me,” Ivan reassured him.

Then slowly, the android’s eyes slipped shut.

#hetabang #rusame #rusame fanfiction #hws russia #hws america #hetabang fanfiction #bringbackhetalia2020 #hws rusame #artificial #scifi au #machine learning about humans trope #two fics in one month after 2 years of silence? yes #youre going to get two more years of silence because im goinf back to work in 2 days #wish me luck please #i dont want to go back to dealing with idiots

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shepherd-of-the-stars · 5 years ago

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Stunning commission done by @ask-the-new-columbian-colonies (ilu Jayde u3u) featuring King Ivan uwu something you guys wont see until later chapters ahahhaa

#quest of a prince #hws russia #god i love this so much #it's so good to look at i love it #this fic is gonna be put on hold for a bit but who knows heehee #go commission jadye if you can pwease #using this as the cover art

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shepherd-of-the-stars · 5 years ago

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Quest of a Prince Ch. 2

Updating a fic after 2 years? More likely than you think. Also the first chapter has finally been edited and I am embarrassed to say that I made like 20 spelling mistakes. Oops.

Also I forgot to explain in the first chapter but Volkhvy (singular, volkhv) are pagan priests, the spiritual leaders of the Slavic people.

Word count: 5,815

Summary: Before an heir can take the throne, a quest is bestowed on them from the Goddess of Fate. If they complete it, they will be considered blessed by the gods and rule gloriously. Prince Ivan's quest is to journey into the Frozen Sea to the Forest of Ice. There, he will find a beautiful creature that lives in the deep that will give him a treasure greater than gold. Kingdom AU. Merman!Alfred and Prince!Ivan

Chapter summary: The creature they seek is found. But can he give them what they need?

Warnings: None

Rating: T

Also avaliable on ao3 and FFnet

Chapter 2: Beauty

The first thing Ivan felt was heat. It wasn’t warmth like basking in the sun, but heat like a dragon had breathed its fire into his body and scorched him from the inside. His body lurched as he vomited and coughed out the water from his lungs, staining the crystal clear water right below his face.

His vision was blurry, and his memory just as much. The thoughts in his head flowed like thick mud, but slowly, pieces of his memory returned. He could feel the hardness of wood under his hands and the gentle rocking of his rowboat. Or perhaps that was just his head swaying from dizziness. He remembered the water. He remembered drowning. But something had saved him when he had already accepted his fate.

Something glinted in the candlelight beside him making him turn his head, but his entire body froze when he locked eyes with the creature staring right back. Those same blue eyes that he saw before he had been dragged into the deep waters were locked on his. He didn’t dare blink, fearing that if he did, his dream would end and the creature would vanish into thin air.

Without the veil of water altering his view of the creature, Ivan found that it was not as beautiful as he once thought. Its eyes were a dull blue, hair the color of sand, and a face that placed him at an age perhaps a year below Ivan. It seemed to be male and was decorated with jewels in a fashion that, to Ivan, looked like a child who had ransacked their mother’s entire collection and thrown it on themselves. There was no order, no coordination, just accessories worn on his body for no other reason than to just have them on.

“Beautiful” was the word he had used just moments before to describe this creature, but now, after seeing him in the dim light, the new word that came to his mind was “ordinary.” The only thing beautiful about him was his tail. From the waist down, he had the tail of a fish with scales the color of his eyes lined with gold on the rounded edges. Was this really the creature he was looking for? The Goddess had described them as a creature more beautiful than he could imagine, but as he was looking at the face of the creature in front of him, Ivan felt like this wasn’t the creature he was seeking.

Regardless of what he thought, this creature was still one of myth. “Merfolk,” they were called. They were shy and fast with the only recorded encounters being sightings of them basking on rocks, or the echoes of their voices traveling across the open ocean. Their voices hold magic and they’re rumored to be so beautiful that just one sighting will poison a human’s mind and lead them to a watery death. Perhaps Ivan was just not one to appreciate beauty. Or maybe he was just too tired to see it.

“My thanks to you for saving me,” he finally spoke, his voice raspy. The creature responded with a nod so small that Ivan wondered if he had imagined it. Did this creature even understand him? “Are you the creature of the deep?” he asked, praying that the creature had the gift of tongues. Most mythical creatures did. Or at least, they’re said to. Ivan’s never encountered one before.

He made a face that Ivan recognized as confusion, and in those few seconds, Ivan was left to wonder if that confusion stemmed from not knowing what was said, or from not knowing how to answer. The creature began looking around as if trying to see if Ivan’s question had been directed at someone else. But when he saw no one, he returned his gaze to Ivan and wrinkled his nose in thought.

“I am a creature… and I live in the deep…” He spoke the words slowly as if he was unsure of himself. His voice was soft and sounded so human-like that if Ivan closed his eyes, he would not have been able to tell the difference between a man and this mythical being. Ivan’s doubt continued to grow, but this was the only intelligent creature, besides his crew, that he had encountered in almost two months, so he had to try.

He straightened himself and smoothed out his soaked clothes until he was, at least, moderately presentable. “I am Ivan Braginsky, Crown Prince of the Kingdom of Rusnia,” he spoke in a proud voice, only a slight tremor from the cold, “I am on a quest to retrieve the greatest treasure of the Frozen Sea, hidden in the Forest of Ice. I am to bring this treasure back to the Goddess, and only then will I be deemed worthy to rule.” When he finished, he stared back at the creature’s face of stone.

“Why should I give it to you?”

The answer made Ivan choke. How could this creature be so blunt? Did he not for a second consider it? “Well- Because I am the future king!”

“In a land I don’t live in.” The creature scuffed and crossed his arms. “I have a king, too. I obey him, not you.”

Oh the arrogance! It made Ivan want to strangle him. His patience had already been drawn thin from endless days of searching, and now this creature wanted to be difficult and bratty? “Seeing that this sea is part of my kingdom, I demand that-” He stopped short when the creature grabbed on to the edge of the boat and leaned forward as if preparing to leap. On his face was an expression of disapproval, a face that said “if I don’t like your words, I don’t have to tolerate them. I’ll just go and you can do nothing to stop me.”

So with a deep breath, Ivan swallowed down his words and smiled with gritted teeth. He took a moment to recollect himself and, hopefully, restart their conversation. This quest was not meant to be easy. It was a test of his being, and it seemed that right now, it was his patience that was being tested.

“What is your name?” he finally asked. “I have given you mine. It would only be fair for you to give me yours, yes?”

There was a long moment of silence as Ivan waited for the creature’s answer. He seemed to be thinking about what Ivan had said while also considering the fact that just moments ago, Ivan demanded that he give up the sea’s greatest treasure. His bottom lip jutted out in thought in a way that Ivan thought was childish. Then at last, he gave an answer.

“Alfred,” he said, his grip on the edge of the boat relaxing just the slightest. “You may call me Alfred.” With how long he had taken to answer, Ivan questioned if the name he was given was his real name, or if he had chosen one that was human enough for Ivan to pronounce.

“Alfred,” Ivan repeated. “Well, Alfred. As the Prince of Rusnia, I humbly request that you offer me your greatest treasure. In return, I give you my word that I will grant you anything you-”

“I want to be the king of your kingdom,” he interrupted with a smirk.

“Anything,” Ivan continued, “within reason.”

“I believe my request is very reasonable.”

Ivan watched as Alfred leaned on the other side of the boat as if he were lounging on pillows in bed. Surely this couldn’t be the creature the Goddess spoke of? How could a figure of such importance be so... haughty?

“My kingdom is very wealthy,” he went on, trying to go back to what he had been saying before Alfred had cut in, “if it is a chest full of jewelry or gold you desire, I will be able to provide.”

“I don’t need them.” Taking his eyes off Ivan, he gestured to the jewels decorating his slender body. “I collect these from the vessels that die here. I have plenty. They mean nothing to me. Just trinkets for my entertainment.”

“Then why did you take my rings and my crown?”

“I took your rings because I was bored and there’s nothing to entertain me ‘cept the fishes.” He propped his head under his hand and looked at Ivan with a bored expression. “As for your crown, I didn’t take it. It simply fell off when you were in the water.” Reaching behind himself, he grabbed the silver circlet and inspected it in his clawed nails.

“Here.” He tossed it to Ivan so carelessly that the prince almost dropped it back into the water trying to catch it. “Have it back. It’s not pretty enough so I don’t want it.”

“It is not meant to be pretty,” he said with a huff as he placed the crown back onto his head with numb fingers, “This crown is to signify my status as the Crown Prince.”

“So you’re telling me that if I were to wear it, I would become the crown prince?” The glint in his eyes made Ivan put his hands on top of his head to keep Alfred from possibly snatching his crown.

“No! That is not how it works. There is a ceremony, there are vows and speeches, and you need to be born of royal blood for any of that to happen.”

The last part had made Alfred snicker as he covered his mouth with his webbed hands. “Royal blood. Royal blood does not exist! Unless the blood you bleed is made of liquid gold, or can heal the sick with it, your blood is the same as any other human’s blood. In the end, you all meet the same mortal fate. Saying you have royal blood is just to make you feel better about yourself and put yourself above others. ‘Royal blood’ is just a title for those who end up on top. And when you lose that title, you’re nothing but a commoner. Do not talk to me about royal blood. You are not my king.”

The mood had shifted. Alfred’s eyes glared down at the waters and his prideful voice lowered almost to a whisper as he neared the end of his speech. Something flashed in his eyes that looked almost like pain, but it had come and gone so quickly, Ivan thought he had been fooled by the flickering candlelight.

The prince knew Alfred was right in everything he said. Ivan had done nothing to deserve his title as prince, and if he were given the choice to give it up, he would take it. But the truth of the matter was that he would never be given that choice. It was his fate to be king, and by the Gods he was going to use his title right.

He waited until he was sure Alfred was done before he continued to speak, this time lowering his voice to be level with him. The prince spoke to him, not as a royal, but as a human. “I know I am not your king, but this quest means everything to me. If you would allow it, I would like to request an audience with your king since you will not reason with me.”

Alfred finally turned his head away from the water and looked Ivan up and down with disdain. “That won’t happen. He is busy.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I know!” He had cut Ivan off before he had the chance to finish his question and returned his gaze to the waters.

Ivan remained calm the entire time. He recalled his teachings, telling him that ruling using emotion is no way to rule. Emotions cloud judgement. Good judgement can only be made when the heart is calm and the mind is clear.

“Alfred, you are my only hope.” Ivan held his hands out to Alfred, palms facing the ceiling of the cave in a gesture of respect. “If I do not complete this quest, I cannot rightfully become king. I need to become king to fix my father’s mistakes. He was a terrible and unjust king and I hope to repair the damage he has done. But it is not something I can do without your aid.

“Please,” his hands still trembled from the cold. If he did not return to his ship and change out of his wet clothes soon, this conversation with Alfred would be his last. “As prince and future king, I am begging you.”

For the first time since their conversation had begun, Alfred looked at Ivan with a face that wasn’t scornful or taunting. He looked at Ivan as if he had finally registered the importance of Ivan’s quest, and perhaps considered giving him what he needed to complete it. But that look only lasted a few moments. Once Alfred’s eyes landed on Ivan’s shaking hands, his face turned to one of concern.

“I believe there are more important things for you to worry about right now.” And before Ivan could stop him, Alfred gave himself a push and slipped back into the dark water. Gone.

It was like his entire world had crashed down, crushing him under the weight. Without his hope, he felt like he had been struck with a battle ram and thrust back into cruel reality. Alfred had denied him, and there was nothing that he could do.

He tried and failed to close his hands into fists, joints aching from the bitter cold, so he slowly pulled them under his cloak in an attempt to return their functionality. His whole body shook as it tried to provide the heat he needed to survive, and with his hands so stiff they couldn’t close, he had no hope of grabbing on to the oars.

“My Goddess,” he closed his eyes, “if you are merciful, I pray that you will allow me to pass this trial.” His voice was barely above a whisper, the heat of his breath making clouds slip from his lips.

Then, as if his prayers were answered, his boat lurched backwards, moving towards the way he came. Words of gratitude were sent up to the heavens, but the soft sound of splashing interrupted his peace.

Leaning his body to the side, he looked to the bow of the boat and realized that his vessel was not being moved by Her will. It was being pushed by something of this world. A head of yellow popped out of the water and smiled at him as Ivan stared in confusion.

“Alfred? But… why?”

Alfred rolled his eyes with a snort. “A dead king can’t rule a kingdom. I’m going to return to your ship so you don’t die. It would also give me time to think about my wish.”

“So you will consider my offer?”

“How about you worry over yourself first, Prince Ivan? Now sit still.”

Warmth and hope blossomed in Ivan’s chest, sending a chill through his body strong enough to make him jolt. But for Alfred, and for his kingdom, he did as the merman instructed. He sat still and allowed Alfred to push him all the way back to the ship, weaving through the caverns like he knew every path better than he knew his own name.

Then it hit him: Alfred knew all along. He wasn’t sure for how long, but Alfred knew that Ivan and his crew were here and had only now decided to show his face. How long had he been watching them? If Ivan had never fallen into the water, would he have stayed hidden forever? Ivan had opened his mouth to confront him about it, but when he saw the determined look on Alfred’s face, he pressed his lips together and held his words inside.

Alfred revealing himself to Ivan was something he saw as a blessing. Alfred saving him when he could have let him drown was another. Alfred spoke his language, was considering his request, and was helping Ivan back to his ship when his hands couldn’t move. Those too were seen as blessings. For a brief moment, Ivan wondered that with so many blessings, when would his luck eventually run out?

But he shook his head softly to dismiss the thought. All of it was fate. Every step had already been planned out and all he had to do was move forward. Or in this case, he had to move backwards. With his back turned towards their path, it was up to Alfred to bring them back to the ship. He trusted Alfred not to push him into a cave with no exits, or over the side of a waterfall. He trusted him enough to let his eyes slip close, the quiet splash of the water against his boat sounding like a lullaby to his freezing mind.

"Hey!" Giving a firm shove, Alfred made the boat lurch with such force that Ivan had almost fallen over face first. "Don't sleep." With a hard glare, he pushed the rowboat a little faster. Worry wrinkled his brow and his haste to get back to the ship made him bump and scrape against the cavern walls. Ivan had found it to be somewhat endearing. It almost seemed like Alfred cared about his wellbeing. But Ivan reasoned with himself that the merman was only keeping him alive to be able to fulfil his wish.

Soon enough, the sounds of chatting and clanging metal reached their ears. The stone walls around them grew taller until light from the sun burst through. Disregarding his aching, burning muscles, Ivan forced his body to sit up straight and proud with only the slightest look of pain and fatigue gracing his face. One by one, his crew turned to them, but only when they saw the creature pushing the boat did they come running forward to the edge of the water.

"Your Highness, is that the creature?"

"Did you find it, Your Highness?"

"Where is the treasure?"

The ones who had rushed forward ignored Ivan to be the first to lay their eyes on the creature that had eluded them for almost two months. But a few of the humans pushed the others out of the way to get to the prince. "Your Highness, you're drenched! What happened? You're turning blue! Will you move?" The second question was directed at the men who cared more about Alfred than they cared about their prince. With them crowding around him, they couldn't help him back to the ship.

Their disregard for Ivan's safety had angered Alfred so much that he slipped back under the water and lifted the rowboat right out of it, holding it above his head. Ivan gasped and held on to the sides for dear life as he watched his crew jump back several feet from the water's edge. But instead of tossing him like everyone had expected, Alfred had set the boat down gently on the ledge, pushing it towards the ones who wanted to help.

"He fell into the water. It was an accident," Alfred lied. The crew fell silent hearing him speak and no one dared to even move. "What are you all? Stone? Your prince is dying and you lot just stand around and gawk!" His fist slammed down on the rock, forming small cracks and making the crew leap back another step.

Two men, who looked lankier and less brutish than the others, glanced at one another before rushing forward to grab their prince. They looked at Alfred with a hint of fear in their eyes, so Alfred moved further into the water to show that he wouldn't attack. Alfred watched with worry as they helped Ivan out of the boat. Ivan’s legs almost gave out under him when he stepped off, but the servants served as his crutches.

Alfred's eyes followed them, stalked them, watched as they helped Ivan up the ramp onto the ship. Even when they had gone inside Ivan's cabin, Alfred circled around the hull of the ship to see if there was a way he could see inside. He was like a fly outside a glass window, fingers touching the hard wood of the ship as if the hull would magically open up and let him in. But it never did, leaving Alfred to swim around and around, his head occasionally poking above the water to see what was going on.

He was well aware the crew was watching him, but he didn’t seem to care. All he cared about was Ivan’s safety. It’s been ages since he had spoken to anyone, and Ivan was just too much fun to lose.

It felt like hours had passed since Ivan was ushered inside, but had only been mere minutes. Then at last, one of the servants who had helped Ivan onto the ship came down the ramp and locked eyes with Alfred. The merman swam closer to hear the news, his arms resting on the rocky ledge. He waited as the fidgety servant took steps forward and back, clearly still scared of Alfred. Even when he stepped forward, he was still tugging on his short, blond hair.

“Are you,” the servant paused to clear his throat, “are you the one called Alfred? I-I mean, ha, you are the only Merfolk here. Who else would be called Alfred. Prince Ivan had-”

“How is he?”

The servant squeaked and began fiddling with his clothes like he had done with his hair. “Um. Prince Ivan is well. All thanks to you. He has changed into warmer clothes and is regaining the heat in his body. He told me to come out and give you his thanks.”

“And to make sure I haven’t left?”

“I-...” He glanced over at the ship as if asking Ivan for the answer. “Y-... yes…”

“Assure him that I will not leave just yet. I believe I have figured out what it is I want, so he won’t be getting rid of me that easily.” With a smirk, Alfred lifted himself up and sat down on the ledge with his tail partially in the water. “But do tell him to hurry. I am impatient.”

The look Alfred gave the servant made him nod vigorously before sprinting back to the ship so quickly he had almost tripped over his own shoes. Alfred laughed under his breath at the clumsiness. It had been so long since he had company and he had forgotten how fun it was to mess with people. Speaking of, it seemed the rest of the crew had built up the courage to come a little closer. Alfred watched them as the eight men whispered between themselves, then one man gave a huff and pushed them aside.

From the way he looked, Alfred assumed this man was a class above the others. His blond hair was neater, his clothes were not torn, and his chest puffed like a walrus as he came forward to Alfred. Not that any of those things held his attention for long. His eyes would not stop staring at the man’s eyebrows. They were well kept, but they were so thick and dark that Alfred had trouble looking away.

“Oi. You can understand us, right?” he asked as he squatted down an arm’s length away from Alfred.

The merman didn’t respond immediately. His gaze moved from the man in front of him to the ones crowded around in the back, then back to the man with the odd eyebrows.

“No,” he lied, then looked away from him, “I don’t have a clue what you’re saying.” He had to keep himself from smiling as he swayed his tail left and right, making small ripples in the water.

At his answer, the man chuckled and shook his head in an unbelieving way. “Creature’s got humor, lads!” he called back to his crew, “Raivis had called you ‘Alfred,’ right? Is that your name?”

“Perhaps it is, and perhaps it isn't.” He flicked his tail with a bored look on his face, the motion making the sunlight glint against his shimmering scales and the jewelry decorating it. From the side of his eye, he saw the man waddle closer before sitting next to Alfred with his legs folded.

“Charming. I like that. Name’s Arthur, but the others call me Captain.” He held out his hand for Alfred to shake, but when Alfred had only given the hand a glance, he retracted it and put it back on his lap. “So, Alfred, how have you come to acquire those? If my eyes don't fool me, I can confidently say that the chaplet you wear on your head is the one named Tears of Fire which belonged to Lord Adrian’s daughter. Do you know what happened to her?”

Alfred didn’t like the look on his face. It made him feel like he was walking into a trap. “Why should I know your human friends?” Reaching up, he took the piece off his head and admired it for just a second. It was beautiful, but simple, and just like its name, the tear-shaped rubies that hung down from the main loop made it look like he was crying fiery tears.

“She was lost at sea,” Arthur told him, “Lady Hanna was an offering to our previous king from a land across the waters. She was meant to be his concubine, but she never made it to our kingdom. That chaplet was given to her as a wedding gift.”

Arthur had barely finished his story when Alfred had tossed the piece at him. “Seems like she would rather die than be under him.” Arthur’s expression when Alfred said that proved Ivan’s words from before to be true. Even without saying a word, Alfred could tell that Arthur had thought the same. The previous king truly was a horrible man.

“You’re lucky none of us were loyal to that cockstain, otherwise, magical being or not, you would have been beheaded.”

“Shame to the old king,” one of the men in the back muttered, then spit on the ground. A few men followed behind him, all muttering various insults and laughing as they grew more and more vulgar. But Alfred didn’t laugh, he looked disappointed.

“I didn’t know humans were so disrespectful towards their king, dead or alive.”

“Not all our kings, lad. Just this one. The whole kingdom is lucky he was a deadbeat father. ‘Cause of that, our prince is nothing like ‘im.” He bowed his head to the ship making Alfred wonder if Ivan had come out. But when he looked and saw no one, he turned back to Arthur. “Wouldn’t be here risking his life if he was. The lad has so much to prove, not just to the people, but to himself, most of all.”

Everyone was silent after that: some out of respect, some out of pity, and some who weren’t brave enough to say what they thought in their heart.

(-w-)

As the sun fell, the men began to return to the ship to resume their duties. But for hours, they had crowded around Alfred and flooded his ears with tales, some true and some legend. They let him experience a land he could never reach and opened his eyes to their world. Some tales had made him bend over in laughter, and some made him clutch his heart in admiration.

They were a good group of men, he realized. Even though they were boorish and coarse, they were friendly and offered good company. But now, Alfred sat alone with his back against a boulder while the men were inside the ship having supper. Ivan’s servant, Raivis, had told them that Ivan was well and resting, so Alfred had no reason to hope that he would come out to speak to him any time soon.

He had almost dozed off as he basked in the warmth of the bonfire beside him when the sound of footsteps brought him out of his sleepy state. To his surprise, Ivan and three of his servants were making their way down the ramp towards him. One was helping Ivan walk with a basket on her arm, and the other two each carried a crate.

Now that he wasn’t drenched in icy water, he looked neater than what Alfred had observed before. His heavy, fur cloak kept most of his outfit hidden, but when Ivan moved his arms, it gave Alfred a glimpse of the plain but finely crafted clothes he wore underneath. While his crown and his clothes made him look royal, to Alfred, he just didn’t seem like a prince. He seemed like a normal person.

“You are still here,” Ivan stated when he was close enough for Alfred to hear.

Alfred’s face broke into a smile as he stretched lazily and groaned. “As if I’d dare leave, Your Highness. What have you got there?”

“Our dinner.”

Alfred’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “Our dinner?”

Ivan nodded and sat down next to Alfred as the crates were opened up and food was set out. Alfred had expected it to be served only to the two of them, but enough plates were set out for five. Once the crates were emptied, they were flipped over and used as makeshift tables.

“Shouldn't a prince like you be eating alone in his warm, comfortable cabin?” Alfred said it in a tone that was almost like he was mocking him. But Ivan didn’t take offense, he simply chuckled and shook his head.

“I prefer not to eat alone. Without company, the food turns bitter.” Ivan’s smile was soft and genuine, making warmth grow in Alfred’s chest.

More and more, Ivan’s image as a prince began to fade, but Alfred couldn't bring himself to say that it was a bad thing. Ivan wasn’t the type of prince to put himself above the others. Even now, he sat on the cold ground with Alfred and the servants as if they were the same class. He shared his food with them, laughed at their stories, and told some of his own.

Some time later, more of his crew came and crowded around them. All were eager to hear how Ivan had found Alfred, waiting for a glorious tale. But Ivan didn’t change the story; he told the entire truth. He told them how he was a fool thinking he could catch Alfred with his bare hands, and how Alfred had toyed with him like he was an idiot. Never in his life did Alfred expect a prince to label himself as a fool or an idiot, and here Ivan was labeling himself as both.

Ivan had turned to Alfred and told him, “I was fortunate that he decided to save me. If not, then…” His eyes seemed lost in thought, but his stiff smile stayed on his face.

To break the silence, the crew offered words of gratitude to Alfred for saving their prince. Some had pat him on the shoulder, and some bowed to him in a show of respect. To Alfred, it was just bizarre. He had once thought that Ivan wasn’t ready to be king because he wasn’t authoritative enough. But now, he saw that even though Ivan didn’t seem to hold the usual qualities of a strong king, he had a crew that respected him because of his actions, not his status.

Over the days, he spent almost every second of his time with Ivan and his people. He learned many of their names, tried all their food, and heard so many of their stories. Alfred didn’t want the days to end. After so many years alone in the dark caves, he wanted them to stay forever and keep him company. But it was a dream he would eventually need to wake from.

“Damned creature,” he heard one night after everyone had retired. The voice had come from up on the deck where he couldn’t see. Alfred didn’t recognize the gruff, male voice so it must have been one of the men that stayed away from Alfred and busied themselves with chores. “Who the hell does he think he is?”

“He’s just a freak,” came another hushed voice, “His father must have bedded a fish when all women rejected him.” The two men snickered then one of them shushed the other.

“Quiet, or the prince will hear us.”

“Damn him too. He’s found the bloody creature and still won’t take the godforsaken treasure from his hands so we can leave this frozen hell and go back home!”

The words had hurt, but those men were right. Alfred was selfish for keeping them here, and even though they seemed happy to keep him company, he was keeping them from returning home to their families and their lives.

Morning came and Ivan came to visit him as the sun rose, just as he had every morning since Alfred was found. He brought breakfast with him to share together, but today he was alone.

“Good morning, Alfred,” he greeted, his voice soft as it always was, “Did you rest well?”

Alfred only grunted in response, his head resting on his arms as his body from the chest down was still in the water. Thoughts raced around his head as he watched Ivan set out the food. It was dried meat, roasted fish, and sliced cheese. The same meal everyday.

“You heard it as well, then?”

Alfred’s eyes flickered up to Ivan. “Heard what?”

“What they said last night on the deck.” Ivan’s voice sounded tired, but a smile still graced his face as he looked out at the sea.

“Am I that easy to read?”

Like Alfred had done before, Ivan gave him a grunt in response. “They were rude, but their words hold truth. Our supplies are dwindling. If we ration what we have, perhaps we can stay for two more weeks. After that, we have no choice but to return home.” Those words brought sorrow to his face.

From his expression, Alfred knew what Ivan had meant to say.

I have to go home without the treasure. I failed the quest.

“You know, Ivan,” he paused, waiting until the prince turned to look at him, “you’ve already granted my wish.”

“I have?” A flash of hope crossed his eyes, then the realization that he had forgotten to ask what it was in the first place. “What was your wish?”

Alfred unbuckled a belt from his hip, something he’s never worn until today. On the belt was a sword, the sheath black as night and decorated with gold designs. He held the sheath of the sword tightly in his hands and looked down at it until the memories pained him so much that he had to look away.

“This sword belonged to my father, King of Svetloyar.” He watched as Ivan’s eyes grew wide.

“You’re a prince?”

#rusame #rusame fanfiction #hws america #hws russia #quest of a prince #hws rusame #i know the crew did a 180 with their treatment of ivan #but in their defense if my sister came half dead with a dragon carrying her i would pet the dragon first you kno #you can drink respect my prince juice everyday but how many times in your life do you get to see a mythical being???#i would have hopped my ass into the boat to get a closer look #also i posted this a while ago on ao3 and ffnet but ive been too lazy to upload it here because of formatting stuff

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shepherd-of-the-stars · 5 years ago

Note

Hi 😁 I would like to invite you to participate in this Event 🤗#HetaliaXmasEvent

Sorry, I can’t work fast enough to be able to do an event like that lol. But I will be participating in the rusame secret santa (by spring-has-come) and one of the general hetalia gift exchanges (by weekofhetalia). I’m also in Hetabang 2020 and an in-progress hetalia zine so I’m gonna be in a bunch of stuff ahhaha

#help sdlkgnslkdf #asks #Anon

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shepherd-of-the-stars · 5 years ago

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Omg you're alive again h-hewwo owo

Lmao, hello!! Sorry for my absence. Had a couple things on my back ^^||

#Anon #asks #oh god i havent posted since january #wait that was a reblog #i havent posted since november omfg #have another work in progress I hope to finish by the end of the week #very very gay uwu

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shepherd-of-the-stars · 5 years ago

Text

(Don't) Return to Vegas

Hi @emeraldsage98 ! Thank you for your immense patience. I had to redo this several times over. Anyways, here’s your secret santa gift, finally! I hope you like it!

Word Count: 13,756

Published: Sep 16, 2019

Edited: June 16, 2023

Summary: A night of drinking led to a marriage Alfred and Ivan don’t quite remember. But it isn’t about that night, it’s about the time they spent after. One is the son of the Kirkland Clan’s head, and the other, the leader of their enemy, the Russian Bratva. But the two lovers turned their eyes away and covered their ears as they faced their trials together. RusAme, Mafia AU. Rated M for murder

Warnings: non-graphic murder, drinking, implied mafia and hitman stuff, injury with a gun, angst(with fluff)

Rating: M

Also available on FFnet and ao3

Prompts inspired:

2. "M, angst with a happy ending? (Mafia AU):

After five years, in his mid twenties, finishing up his dissertation for his phD while working full time with NASA, Alfred's finally settling into a life without the paranoia of constantly looking over his shoulder for someone to come and drag him back to the home he'd fled. Of course, that's when his husband pops back up to do just that. (could be an angsty ending or a happy ending, surprise me!!!)"

3. "M, humor/romance (Mafia AU):

The Kirkland Clan is a mafia family, and Arthur's oldest son Matthew stands to inherit. His youngest son, Alfred, is thought of as too kind hearted to get involved with the business, so they've kept him out of the underground for his entire life. What they don't know, is that he's World Class Assassin, Siren, who made a huge name for himself initially for the sheer success of the honeypot assassinations he'd pulled off. World Class Assassin Siren...who just got accidentally drunken married in Las Vegas to his number one rival World Class Assassin, General Winter, after they'd both tried to off the same target. Winter, who was also the head of Russia's Bratva. And then, they find out."

And:

1. Cross-dressing Alfred

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Pride.

It was the only reasonable explanation as to why he was here—alone—on a beautiful spring evening. The smoke from his cigarettes was so thick that he could push through it with his hands. Yet he didn’t open a window, and he didn't turn on the bathroom fan.

Instead, he chose to sit silently in a dark hotel room—his only source of light was from the moon above and the city life below, streaming through the thin, closed curtains. Occasionally, he would stand and walk to the gap between them to look down at the building across the street, but when he saw the dark room of his target, he sighed and sat back down.

Hours had gone by and he swore his sniper—aimed at the room—had collected a thin layer of dust on its metal body. He was on his last cigarette, but he didn't dare leave the room to buy another pack in fear that his target would appear and he would miss his only opportunity.

Ivan Braginsky—head of the Russian Bratva—had no reason to waste this kind of time. With a wave of his hand, he could have this man eliminated without having to leave his house. But he was here, in Las Vegas, thousands of miles from his home, doing the work of a soldier, because he had something to prove.

The gunshot wound on his shoulder had long since healed, but the scar it left behind reminded him daily that he had lost his touch. After he had assumed his role as the Bratva’s leader, the title he had fought tooth and nail to earn—World Class Assassin: General Winter—slipped through his fingers like sand. Head honchos like him shouldn’t dirty their hands doing assassinations; it increased their risk of getting caught. So he “retired”—forcefully—and his lack of field work had caused him to become uncoordinated, careless, and feeble.

It was something he simply wouldn’t accept.

And that brought him here, sitting alone in a hotel room instead of enjoying the night like every other poor soul that traveled to this dump. Gambling, spending, fucking—those things were not on his to-do list. He was here for one thing, and one thing only: to take out the bastard that dared cheat him in a deal. It had taken him weeks to track him down, when in the past, he could have done it in days. It was another stab at his pride. And if the man didn’t show up in the hotel room Ivan planned for him to be in, then he would return home in a very, very foul mood.

But at last, the lights in the room turned on just as he took the final drag from his cigarette. He pressed the butt into the full ashtray and checked that his weapon was loaded before looking down through his scope. What he saw made him scowl deeply.

His target was there, but in his arms was a blonde woman who pressed so closely to him that if Ivan were to take the shot, she would be taken out as well. In all his years of work, Ivan had never hurt a civilian. Willingly, at least. That fact wouldn’t change today.

Ivan watched in disgust as the woman pushed his target onto the bed and crawled on top of him—twisting and rolling her body. He tried his hardest not to gag as they kissed, then pulled away from his scope for a moment just to rub his eyes. If only that woman knew what he had done. She wouldn’t want to touch him with a ten-foot pole.

As he returned to his scope, he groaned in annoyance to see his target in a blindfold. If they were going to do that, Ivan didn’t want to watch for much longer. He could get the job done in the morning after the woman left. But if she stayed behind, he could take—

Wait.

He furrowed his brows as he watched the woman’s face turn from seduction to malice. Her lips moved as she spoke, and her hips continued to grind against the man under him, but her hands had reached for her purse and pulled out, not a condom or handcuffs, but a syringe.

Heroin? No. Her face would not be so twisted with disgust if that were the case. And that vial that she loaded the needle with, it was much too… neat. He watched as the contents were injected into his neck. There was a struggle, but the woman held him down with a venomous look on her face. Frozen in curiosity, he could do nothing but watch as the woman climbed off of him and let him rise for mere moments before he fell to the ground where he flailed then fell limp.

The woman walked up the window then, letting Ivan see her in full view. The red dress she wore was form-fitting and it matched the ruby color of her lips. And her eyes, they were such a vibrant shade of blue that they sparkled even in the dim light. A look of satisfaction crossed her face as she breathed in deeply and scanned the windows of the building Ivan was in. For a brief moment, he thought she spotted him. Their eyes locked for only a click, then she smirked, and the curtains were closed.

It was over in seconds.

He cursed and stepped back from the scope, his hand pressed against his eyes. "Siren," he muttered, cursing the name. It had been years since he had faced his rival. So long that he had almost forgotten the name.

Siren—known for their honeypot assassinations—had risen in rank faster than Ivan, and the Russian hated them for it. It had taken him years to earn that title, and he was bested by a rookie. Siren was flawless and fierce, never once failing to get their target. While others kept their distance to keep from getting caught, Siren never shied away and faced every target head on. And never once did they get caught.

And there was another thing: Siren always left their mark. They wanted people to know they had done the job. It was almost a game to them. After they seduced and killed their target, they threw the body into a filled tub and doused them with chemicals until their body was almost unrecognizable. Then they decorated the water with flowers on top, making it look as if they died a beautiful watery death; it was what earned them their name. Siren blurred the line between assassin and serial killer; it was an insult to their profession.

He cursed the name over and over as he packed away his weapon. Hours upon hours of waiting and all of it wasted. He now knew why his target had taken so long to return to the hotel; the bastard had spent the night frolicking with Ivan’s rival.

Sliding his gun case under the bed, he washed up and hurried to the building across the street, hoping to catch Siren in the act. This would be the closest he’s even been to his rival, and he would not waste this opportunity. He knew which room they were in. It would be so simple to burst in and take them down, but it would make Ivan a suspect once they found the body. Unlike Siren, he didn’t have a disguise and it would be over for him once he was caught.

Not wanting to take the risk, he could do nothing but sit in the lobby and wait.

(x.x)

Rage clouds judgment. Ivan Braginsky knew that. Yet he still fell for it like a young child who didn't know any better. He had waited in the lobby, flipping mindlessly through fashion magazines as he scanned each passerby, looking for those vibrant blue eyes. Siren, Siren, Siren, he chanted in his mind. Waiting and waiting for the woman in red to appear. Siren, Siren… sirens.

Police sirens. The wail of an ambulance. A crying maid and a frantic manager. “There’s a body in the tub,” she whispered through her tears. The policeman had sushed her, but Ivan had already heard.

He stood with his stomach boiling in anger. They had found the body and Siren was long gone. It was stupid—idiotic—to think that Siren would just walk out the front door. And yet Ivan sat there like an abandoned dog waiting for his owner.

With a headache beginning to form, he made his way to the bar down the road. He needed a drink—desperately so. When he stepped in, he was instantly hit with the drunken howls of young patrons and the heavy bass of club music. It was loud, and it didn’t help the aching in his head, but the noise drowned out his maddening thoughts.

He slid into the bar stool and waited. And he waited and waited. Dear God, he was so sick of waiting. He glared daggers at the bartender who was spending more time chatting up a young man than doing his job. But in his defense, the man was tall, blond, handsome, quite charming, with soft blue eyes hidden behind a pair of red glasses. He thought about bringing him back to the hotel for one night, but that would have to be after he had gotten his drink.

Perhaps he should throw something at the barkeep. His eyes drifted over to the ashtray in front of him. Mischievous fingers circled the glass rim—it was an action he regretted instantly. His fingers were gray with ash and he didn’t even have a napkin to wipe it off with.

Rolling his eyes, he looked back over at the bartender who had finally returned to doing his job. But he still had not come over to take Ivan’s order, and Ivan continued to wait.

“Here.” A voice sounded beside him and a wet napkin was thrust into his vision. His eyes flickered up to the young man—the one who had been chatting with the barkeep earlier—then down to the napkin. “It’s not chloroform, if that’s what you’re wondering,” he laughed. It was an infectious and delightful sound. “Saw you get your hands dirty. Thought you might need it.”

Ivan hesitated for a moment more before he finally took the napkin from the man. “Thank you,” he said smoothly, looking into the man’s soft eyes. They were blue, like Siren’s, but the vibrancy was not the same.

“My name is Alfred, by the way.” The young man shot him a flirtatious wink.

"Alfred," he greeted instead of giving him his name. His decision made the young man pout.

He caught movement in the corner of his eye—the bartender coming his way—but before he could speak, a drink was set in front of him. "Here’s your whiskey sour. Courtesy of the young man to your left."

His eyes followed the bartender’s line of sight until they landed on the young man. Alfred raised his glass with a sly smile before downing the rest of its contents. “You looked like you needed one. Don’t worry, it’s on me.” He sent Ivan another wink, and Ivan felt the corners of his lips turn upwards, just the slightest.

Perhaps this night would not have to be a complete failure after all. Just because he wasn’t able to get his target didn’t mean he wasn’t allowed to enjoy the rest of his night. Besides, it wasn’t like he could bring his target back and kill him again. He would simply have to move on.

“Barkeep,” he called, holding up his two fingers. As the man came over, Ivan handed him his credit card. ��Open a tab for me, if you will. The name is Braginsky, Ivan. And…” he paused as he glanced over at Alfred who had made a face like he enjoyed the sound of his name. Then he leaned over the bar so he could whisper something to the bartender. With a nod, the man left, tapping away at his computer before turning to prepare a drink.

“So it’s ‘Ivan’ then?”

“Braginsky,” he finished for him.

Alfred smiled and added, “Jones.”

“Braginsky-Jones?” Ivan teased.

The man laughed, tucking his hair behind his ear as his eyes sparkled behind his lenses. “Only if you want it to be.” His cheeks held a delicate pink color—perhaps from embarrassment, perhaps from his drink. But the more Ivan stared at the young man, the more he took a liking to it.

Picking up his glass, he toasted it in Alfred’s direction before taking a short sip. The whiskey burned down his throat—sliding like fiery silk. Its bitterness mixed with the sour of the lime and the sweet of the syrup, complementing the whiskey beautifully. It was a perfect blend—skillfully balanced—and he reminded himself to leave a large tip later. Alfred had been right; it was just what he needed.

"So, Ivan, if I tried to guess what's bothering you, would you turn that anger on me?” Alfred had settled into the barstool next to him and was playing with his empty glass mindlessly.

Ivan glanced up at him while taking another sip and made a silent hand gesture that said, “go for it.”

The man turned in his seat to face him, then looked Ivan from head to toe with eyes that reminded Ivan of a detective. He was silent for a moment before he gave a nod and crossed his arms. “Someone stole your business,” he said confidently.

His answer caused Ivan to chuckle—the sound of his voice rumbling in his chest. It was close enough to the truth that Ivan set down his glass to clap slowly. “I’m impressed. How did you figure that out?”

“I can read minds,” the young man laughed, wiggling his fingers around in the air. “No, I’m kidding. I’ve just been through a lot of guys. Shit that sounds weird. I’m not like that, I promise. I just mean that I work with a lot of men. No! Oh that sounds worse. I’m around men all day? Fuck.” He buried his face in his hands. “I’ll shut up now.”

He laughed again—something that came as easily as breathing around Alfred. Even with his hands covering his face, Ivan could see the man’s ears turning red with embarrassment. There was something about him—that unrestrained bliss—that made Ivan gravitate towards him, and he made no attempt to stop it.

The bartender returned as Alfred was lifting his face from his hands, just in time to see a glass being placed in front of him. “Here’s your cosmo,” the bartender—David, his nametag informed him. “Courtesy of the man to your right.”

Alfred turned to Ivan, and Ivan returned the wink Alfred had given to him earlier as he pocketed his card. “Trying to say something?” Alfred picked up the delicate martini glass and looked at Ivan with a teasing look. The liquid was a light pink and decorated with a thin orange twist on the rim. It was strong, but it was also sweet and… fruity.

“I simply don’t like owing people things,” Ivan answered, clinking his glass against Alfred's when the young man seemed to be frozen in place.

"You know that's not what I'm referring to."

"What is it you are referring to, then?"

"You ordered me a cosmo."

"It was the first thing that came to mind."

"Yeah right." Alfred lifted the thin glass to his lips and took a sip to hide his amused grin. As much as he hated its girly appearance, it was a good drink. The taste of alcohol was masked by the sweet cranberry and orange, but it held enough kick to make his soft cheekbones flush. Blue eyes flickered over to glance at his new companion as he enjoyed his drink, then they crinkled in a smile before he turned away to enjoy his own.

The silence that followed was a comfortable one, and it was one Ivan was content with. Yet he still yearned for more. Ivan found the need to hear the man speak again. To see that smile on his face, and to hear that infectious laugh. He didn’t understand the urges, but he didn’t try to deny them either. “What about you?" he asked, setting down his glass.

"Huh?"

"You. Why are you here? You don’t seem to be here for the engagement party." He paused to gesture over to the group of partiers that were so wild with their festivities that the entire bar knew.

"Oh. You wanna try and guess?" Alfred turned towards him and struck a pose, presenting himself to Ivan. Ivan laughed, and Alfred's laugh soon mingled with his.

"No,” he finally answered. “I would prefer you tell me."

"Aw come on. Where's the fun in that?" A small pout formed on his lips and Ivan resisted the urge to lean forward and—

"I'm not a fan of guessing games,” he said, cutting off his own thoughts.

"Just this once?"

Ivan locked their gazes, his dark, violet eyes hooded and demanding. "You will tell me."

Alfred sat with his mouth slightly agape, then timidly looked down at the counter. "Jeez" —he kicked his legs childishly—"when you got an accent like that, I guess I can't say no."

"Go on, then." He watched him with curious eyes—only leaving him for a moment as he tipped his head back to finish his drink.

“Well,” Alfred paused to run his hands through his soft hair and his expression turning slightly smug, “I don’t wanna brag or anything, but I’m here to celebrate a job well done. I did my homework, put in the work, won over the client, and bam!” —his fist shot up into the air—“sealed the deal. Now daddy’s got some change in his pockets.” He patted his pockets then, indicating he was talking about himself.

“Congratulations, I suppose you have achieved what I could not.” Ivan held no venom in his voice. It would be petty of him to spit on this man’s success simply because he had failed his own. But it didn’t mean he didn’t feel that tinge of jealousy in his gut from not being able to say the same.

“If you had tried guessing, I would have said ‘yes’ to whatever answer you gave me. Like, you could have said I’m just looking for a hookup and I would have said ‘yeah’.”

“Well, are you?”

"Hey" —he shrugged—"two birds, one stone." Keeping his smug expression, he took another sip of his sweet drink but grunted softly as a bit of the liquid escaped his mouth. His eyes locked with Ivan’s, then his tongue swiped across his lips in a way that was much too sultry to be an innocent act.

Ivan felt his gut twist in need and he reached for his drink to distract himself. But when he brought the glass to his lips and tipped it back, he realized it was empty, and he had no object to divert his attention to. He was forced to focus only on Alfred, yet he found that it wasn’t a bad thing.

"Hey, David," Alfred called out to the bartender, "get this man another one. On my tab.” After getting the bartender’s confirmation, he turned to Ivan with a smile and hopped off the stool. “Well, enjoy your night. I won’t bother you anymore. Thanks for the drink.” Downing the rest of his drink, he sent Ivan another wink before he blended back into the sea of people.

Alfred had left so suddenly that it had left Ivan’s mind reeling. Had he misinterpreted their interaction? Sure he was a bit rusty when it came to the romance department, but he was absolutely sure Alfred had been flirting with him. And yet he had left him alone at the bar after buying him a drink.

That thought made Ivan pause. He had told Alfred earlier that he was a man that didn’t like owing people things. Either Alfred was insistent on getting Ivan a free drink, or he expected to be chased. One glance across the bar indicated that the second option was the correct one. Even through the crowd of people, Ivan could still spot those blue eyes on him as he settled in a seat at the other end of the club.

Well, if Alfred insisted on playing hard to get, then Ivan would just have to play along. He ordered another drink and waited for it to be prepared before he stood and waltzed over to the corner that Alfred had settled himself in. A woman from the party had situated herself in an empty spot next to him, but with one quick, “leave,” from Ivan, she scurried off like a frightened mouse.

“Well”—Alfred set the beer in his hand aside and folded his hands on his lap—“that was kinda rude.” But from the smug look on his face, Ivan knew that it wasn’t a move he disliked.

He set the drink down on the table and took the seat the woman had just vacated, then slid the glass towards Alfred. “I owe you a drink,” he said simply.

Alfred eyed the glass then reached over and plucked Ivan’s drink right out of his hand. He looked him straight in the eye as he took a sip of the whiskey that Ivan had already drank some of. “Don’t know if you drugged it. Just to be safe,” he hummed with a light shrug.

“I assure you, if that had been my intention, you would already be tied up in the back of my van.” It was a joke, and it was clear Alfred knew it, but before he could even reply, a chorus of excited shouts from the engagement party drowned out all the conversations in the bar.

Ivan breathed out a sigh and reached out to take a sip from Alfred’s drink before flagging down one of the employees. “Are any of your private rooms open?”

The employee hummed under her breath in thought as she tapped through her tablet then nodded her head. “Yes, sir. Looks like we have one of them open. Would you like me to—”

Ivan was already standing before she could finish. At his standing height, he was almost a head taller than her. “Lead the way.” He took one step before pausing and turning back to Alfred. “You are invited to join if that is what you wish.”

With a smirk, Alfred threw back the rest of Ivan’s drink before following them down the dark hall.

[-w-]

Two hours, a couple appetizers, and a forgotten number of drinks later, Alfred was crying over the wedding scene in a romance comedy. Though the private room may have sounded like something much more dirty, it was really just a room where people could drink privately and choose what they wanted to watch on the television.

The two had gotten bored of channel surfing and neither of them had wanted to watch sports, so eventually, they settled on a film being shown after a funny scene had caught their eye. And now, at the film’s end, Alfred was drunkenly crying over the two main characters finally walking down the aisle while clinging to Ivan’s head and hugging it like a pillow.

“It’s so beautiful!” he sobbed, wiping his tears with the back of his arm, “They’re so lucky to have each other. I’m never going to be like them!” Out of jealousy, Alfred grabbed the nearest thing and chucked it at the TV. Luckily, it turned out to be a balled up tissue which didn’t make it very far.

This caused him to cry out even louder, the noise beginning to make Ivan’s ears ring. “Shhhh.” He wiggled out from his hold to shush him, his finger completely missing his lips and sliding across the side of his face. “You… shhh! You are beautiful. You will make very pretty husband.” his voice was slurred and he could barely keep his head from swaying.

“I can’t!” he wailed, “My dad won’t let me! I wanna be a pretty bride and wear a dress! Suits are so yucky! I wanna be big and pretty!” The drunk couldn’t find the word for stuffy and he eventually ended up pressing his tear and snot-covered face against Ivan’s shirt.

He cried there for a good minute without Ivan prying him off, mostly because Ivan was too wasted to notice his shirt was getting soaked. “No, listen,” he said a bit too loudly as he peeled Alfred off of him, “today is follow dreams day. Is good day! Is do what you want day! You are going to be pretty bride because you deserve happy!”

It took a moment or two for the words to even register in Alfred’s mind, and when they did, he stood up abruptly and threw up his hands. “You’re right!” The motion made him stumble but he, shockingly, did not topple over. “Today is my day! I did a big job today and I deserve it!”

“Yeah!” Ivan mimicked his pose, the disorientation from standing making him hit his shin on the table and knock a couple glasses onto the floor. But he didn’t pay any attention to them. “Today, you get married!”

“Yeah!” Alfred laughed and headed to the door but suddenly stopped, making Ivan bump into him and practically flatten him against the door. “Wait wait wait…” He turned around, holding a finger up. “I don’t have a husband.”

The two stood at the door for a minute, their eyes squinted as they tried to figure out what seemed like the hardest question they were ever asked. Alfred, much too drunk to stroke his chin, began stroking his neck and his face.

“I have idea!” Ivan piped and pointed to the ceiling. He almost fell back because of it but managed to catch himself. “I will be husband!” He pointed a finger at his own chest and smiled triumphantly at being able to come up with such an amazing solution.

Alfred made a dramatic gasp, even putting his hands to his face. “Yeees! My handsome husband!” Out of glee, he hopped his way over to Ivan's open arms and embraced him. “I have a husband! Alfred Jones-Bag-, uh… Bagkin… Skis…”

“Braginsky.” Ivan finished for him, laying his head on Alfred’s. “Alfredo Jone-Braginsky.” He giggled at the name.

“I like your accent.” Alfred purred. He reached up to pat Ivan’s cheek and to try and kiss him on the lips but had missed completely and ended up somewhere on his chin. “Come on. Let’s make me Alfred Jones-Bragkinsky.” And Ivan was too drunk to correct him again.

[-w-]

“Now get out!”

Ivan barely had the time to stuff his wallet back into his suit pants before the wedding shop’s security had shoved the two out the door for trying to have sex on their couches while they were waiting for the payment to process. With them being so drunk, it was only due to Ivan flashing his Black Card that they were even allowed into the shop in the first place.

Alfred, now dressed in an expensive and layered wedding dress, was having a lot more trouble walking than he had before. He still wore his pants and sneakers underneath since heels would have led to broken ankles, but with Alfred’s state of mind, even sneakers couldn’t save him from stumbling.

Next on the list was getting to the chapel. They had skipped the step for getting a certificate but with their one track minds, issues with the law were the least of their concerns. Waving down a taxi was an easy task since it was a busy street, so soon, the two were one step closer to living Alfred’s dream.

“Hey, Ivan.” Alfred turned to Ivan who was almost buried in the frills of Alfred’s dress that had been stuffed into the back seat. Ivan gave a grunt in reply. “I think,” Alfred paused and took a minute to take the veil off of his head and put it on Ivan’s, “I think you should wear this! You look so nice.”

Ivan didn’t object at all. He just giggled and helped Alfred adjust the tiara on his head. “Of course I look nice! You’re not only one who can be pretty. We’re pretty pair.” He leaned in to kiss Alfred but only managed to land one on the nose with the veil blocking the touch, yet he didn’t seem to notice.

The ride there had only taken two minutes with it being so close to the shop. Ivan, who couldn’t really see what bills he was holding in his hand, gave the driver a hundred dollar bill and told him to keep the change.

Getting out of the car resulted in Alfred falling on the sidewalk. The layers of the dress saved his knees from being scraped. But with Ivan’s big tip, the driver was more than happy to help the two get out and on their way to the chapel.

With their incredible luck, another couple had just finished their ceremony. All the rose petals, rice, and decorations had already been scattered around and set up, and even though it looked like a mess, the only thought that went through Alfred’s head was, “This is perfect. This was meant to be.”

“Hey!” Alfred called out to a man who must have been the priest and stopped him. “I need you to marry us.”

The priest let out a nervous laugh, seeing the two were obviously drunk. “I’m going to need a certificate. And you need to book 24 hours in advance.”

Alfred frowned and took a minute to pull up his entire dress to get to his pants pockets underneath. There, he pulled out his phone and took some time to get to his bank app. “Look,” he showed the man his phone, the amount in the 6th digits and almost to the 7th, “do the thing and you’ll never have to work here again. I will transfer it right now.”

The priest’s change in attitude was immediate. It had taken only a few minutes for them to do the payment and afterwards, the priest guided Ivan to the altar while calling another man to stand in as Alfred’s father and walk him down the aisle.

Ivan had refused to take off the veil that Alfred had given him so he was the one wearing it at the altar as Alfred staggered over to him. Even Ivan was having some trouble standing still. Another man had been called to just stand behind him and make sure the big man didn’t fall over.

But standing still was the least of Ivan’s concerns. All he cared about was how magnificent Alfred looked as he came down the aisle. And for Alfred, all he cared for was the almost godly image of the man who was going to set him free of the burdens of marrying someone he didn’t want. He was going to marry Ivan because he wanted to, but mostly because his father wasn’t there to stop him.

The rings they exchanged were ones Ivan wore as a necklace. The rings of his parents, killed in cold blood in front of him, their bodies left to rot, and Ivan, still young, forced to be in the same room as their decaying bodies until the authorities found them. It was the reason for his line of work and a reminder of what was most important in life: family.

And now, Ivan and Alfred wore them on their fingers. The sizes were not a perfect fit but they fit well enough. They were simple silver bands, the original owners’ names and their dates of marriage engraved on the inside. They were not perfect, but to the two being wedded, there was nothing else better in the world.

They exchanged kisses next, the priest having to move the veil out of the way for Ivan since he didn’t have the ability to do it himself being preoccupied with trying to kiss his new husband. And with a little help, they found their way to each other’s lips, sealing their union.

[-w-]

The first thing Alfred registered when he was harshly dragged back into the waking world was the immense pain in his head that prevented him from doing the simplest tasks. He couldn’t even remember the date without heaving out in pain.

Even trying to remember the events of last night was a struggle and made it feel as if someone was stabbing knives into his skull and twisting the blades. And there was no way in hell he was going to open his eyes anytime soon either. He could see the sunlight through his eyelids and it was already blinding him. Opening his eyes would mean the end of his days being able to see.

So he laid there quietly, perfectly still, and let the memories slowly come back to him at their own pace. He remembered Vegas, he was here for an assassination job, but what had happened from there?

Breathing out a heavy breath, he curled inwards and moved his hands up to grip his head. But feeling the bedsheets against his legs, his bare and naked legs, made him freeze. Then one by one, little details began popping into his head: he was naked, he was in bed, and someone was in the bed with him, someone big, and that someone was naked as well.

Oh fuck. Did I sleep with my target again? Alfred questioned in his head. But after some time, he reasoned with himself that he did not. He remembered seducing and luring his target back to the room. He had tricked him into wearing a blindfold with promises of “a kinky surprise,” but in the end, that surprise turned out to be a syringe needle through the neck with an injection that would force him into a cardiac arrest.

There was no way Alfred had slept with his target because Alfred had watched him die. He had sneered and laughed at his target as the bastard writhed on the floor, and while he died, Alfred told him every little thing he had done wrong that led to this event. The memory of his pained face made Alfred smile as a chill of satisfaction shot down his spine.

The body behind him moved, bringing his mind back to the present and he tried a little harder to recall what had happened after. Dropping the body into the tub and filling it with acid and flowers, going back to his own room to change out of his feminine costume, going out to the bar to celebrate, and meeting—

Alfred breathed in a sharp breath. The person at the bar. It was Ivan. The charismatic man who had wiggled his way into Alfred’s heart faster than anyone he’d ever met. Not only had he wiggled into it, he had stolen it and managed to put it under his name.

Alfred Jones-Braginsky

Or was it “Braginsky-Jones”? He couldn’t remember. Either way, it had a nice ring to it.

“These are my parents’ rings.” The drunken Ivan took the chain off his neck and handed it to the priest. “I have never taken them off, but now I give them to you.”

Alfred now felt that ring on his finger. It was too small—barely made it past the knuckle—and he knew that if he were to take it off, it would leave a purple print on his finger for being too tight. But instead of trying to pry it off, he rubbed his thumb against the warm metal and memorized every dent and groove. It was his wedding ring, and he’d never take it off.

His thumb stopped moving when he felt Ivan stir. The man was waking up from his slumber and returning to Alfred’s world. Alfred didn’t move. He wanted to see how Ivan would react when he was asleep and knowing he was unconscious.

Alfred had expected Ivan to pull him close, to kiss his neck and gently tell him to wake up, but he didn’t. Instead, Ivan slowly pulled away in a way that wouldn’t wake Alfred, if he were still asleep.

He lifted Alfred’s body up just enough to pull his arm out, then Alfred felt the bed shift as Ivan sat up. He heard what felt like a small struggle before there was a small jolt then the quiet ‘clack’ of metal on wood.

Ivan had taken off his ring.

Alfred’s body grew cold when he felt the bed shift again, then Ivan’s hand grabbed hold of Alfred’s left, and investigated the ring on his finger. The man cursed under his breath when he realized chances were low that he’d take it off without Alfred waking but he had to try it anyway.

The flesh of his finger twisted as Ivan tried to wiggle the ring off, but still, Alfred feigned sleep. Ivan twiddled and tugged, and with each motion, Alfred could almost feel Ivan growing desperate to get the ring off as if Alfred had stolen it from him

Ivan—who he thought was his Prince Charming, his knight in shining armor, his Romeo—was taking back the ring without even saying a word. His heart wrenched, feeling like a snake had wrapped around the organ and was squeezing every last ounce of life he had left. A lump had already formed in his throat and he was scared that if he were to open his mouth, his feelings would spill out.

As Alfred felt the ring go past his knuckle and slowly began leaving his finger, he clasped his hand over Ivan’s, stopping him from taking back the symbol of their marriage. He didn’t care what the consequences were; all he wanted in this moment was for Ivan to stay.

Ivan tried again to slowly pull away, thinking that perhaps Alfred was just grabbing him in his sleep, but Alfred tightened his grip and curled his other hand into a fist so that Ivan would have to pry it open in order to get the ring. He expected Ivan to do just that, and perhaps try to fight it off his hand, but Ivan had tricked him yet again with his actions.

Ivan’s free hand reached towards Alfred’s face and brushed the hair out of his still closed eyes, a chaste kiss on his forehead following. “Alfred,” his tone was neutral, but soft, “do you think it was a mistake?”

Alfred couldn’t read his tone and it was driving him insane. If it wasn’t for his eyelids twitching as he tried to keep his eyes shut, Ivan might have believed that Alfred was still asleep. But after his long silence, Alfred shook his head ‘no.’

He heard Ivan let out a sigh, feeling the warm breath on his cheek. Then he was rolled over so his back was resting on the bed and his face angled at Ivan. But still, he kept his eyes closed.

“Trust me, love.”

Alfred’s hands were brought up to Ivan’s lips and kissed until Alfred caved and released Ivan’s hand. He didn’t stop Ivan from removing the ring, trusting him, and then Ivan stayed silent after placing the ring on the nightstand. Alfred had to clench his jaw and steady his breathing to keep his emotions in check.

“Alfred, will you look at me?”

He didn’t want to, immediately, but Ivan was patient and waited until finally, Alfred opened his eyes to the blinding sun and looked at him. What Alfred expected to see was Ivan sneering at him, waiting to make fun of him for clinging to what was possibly a one night stand, but after Ivan had wiped away the tears that had welled up in Alfred’s eyes, Alfred was met with a gentle smile.

His own hand was brought into his line of vision and Ivan gestured for him to look at the finger the ring was previously on. It was purple and dented under his knuckle and he didn’t feel the tingling until now.

“If you kept that ring on, doctors are going to have to amputate your finger, silly. I’ll get you a new one, one that fits, I promise you.”

With the light bouncing off his hair and his eyelashes, and his kind eyes, and his caring smile, Alfred believed that Ivan was an angel. Ivan kissed his finger until the tingling was gone and warmth filled his body; the entire time, all Alfred could do was stare.

This moment he wished would last forever seemed to end in an instant. Ivan had managed to kiss from his finger to his lips leaving Alfred pink from his neck to his ears. He was so sweet, so soft, making Alfred love him even more than he already did.

“You’re real, right?” he found himself saying, and he was met with the sound of Ivan giggling at the funny words.

“Yes, I’m real. Don’t think you can get rid of me that easily. I’m here to stay.”

Keeping true to his words, Ivan had stayed with Alfred.

The two rescheduled their flights in order to give them enough time to spend the day together and to purchase promise rings. They were a lot more awkward with each other being sober but were still a very fitted match. And with one last kiss at the airport, they exchanged contact information and parted ways.

In the first year, the two kept the relationship long distance, getting to know each other through texts and calls. And more and more, they grew closer even though they were so far away.

In the second year, they began to visit one another on trips, occasionally. Sometimes Alfred would visit Ivan, and sometimes, Ivan to Alfred, always giving a week or a month’s notice because of their schedules.

In the third year, those trips grew less frequent. Their schedules didn’t line up like they used to and there was never any time.

And in the fourth year, the two grew tired. Not of each other, but of the situation. They grew tired of the heart-breaking news of “I’m busy that weekend” and had to cancel plans. They grew tired of lonely nights where the other was too busy to pick up calls. And they grew tired of cold and empty beds after the other left to return to their home.

So in the fifth year, during one of Ivan’s visits, Ivan broke the news to Alfred that he had bought a house in Alfred’s city. He proposed to Alfred again and they remarried, officially this time. They moved in together, decorated the house together, and let their love grow and flourish in their new warm home.

The paintings of flowers with skulls and other mundane things were Ivan’s choice. “It’s art.” he said when Alfred gawked at the price tags. As for Alfred, he chose real plants over painted ones. While Ivan argued that it would increase the amount of bugs in the house, Alfred reasoned that the plants would help clean the air. And even though Ivan had agreed to let him fill the house with plants, it sometimes irked him when Alfred would name the plants and call them his children. And sometimes he would kiss the plants more often than he would kiss Ivan.

“I think we should put Henry on the table in front of your sock painting.” Alfred said, pointing to Ivan’s painting on the wall.

“First of all, it is not a sock painting. It is abstract and only you think it looks like a sock. Second, which is Henry?” Though it seemed like an argument, Ivan was smiling. It was just another one of their play fights, no harm was ever done.

“It’s a sock and you can’t change my mind. But anyways, Henry is the snake plant,” After silence and Ivan’s stare, he continued, “the green one with the leaves that stand straight up and have a yellow edge?” A slow blink, and a sigh from Alfred. “The one I put on the toilet seat.”

Finally, Ivan grunted in recognition and draped an arm over Alfred’s shoulder. “The govno plant stays where govno belongs.”

“If that word means ‘shit’, I will choke you.” As Ivan smirked and tilted his head up to expose his neck, Alfred gave Ivan’s thigh a playful punch. “Henry is a good kid and he’s cleaning the bathroom air.”

“Then he stays there. He has a job to do.”

“...You’re right.” Alfred huffed, leaning on Ivan’s shoulder. The two took a couple seconds to just relax and enjoy being in the same room together, knowing they would still be here the next day. But Alfred soon grew bored of the quiet and turned to Ivan. “Okay, what about Antoinette?” he waited. “She’s the purple hydrangea plant.”

Ivan hummed in thought and then nodded. “Acceptable.”

In a flash, Alfred had jumped off the couch and hurried to the second floor to get the plant. He was eager to put his plant into a new place, and to possibly cover up Ivan’s painting. It wasn’t that he hated it, it just looked a lot like a sock and he didn’t want guests asking why they had a painting of a sock.

Antoinette was currently placed in Ivan's office. The room was meant to be the house’s second bedroom but since they didn’t plan to have children anytime soon; were going to sleep in the same bedroom; and didn’t anticipate any stay-over guests, ever, their second bedroom became Ivan's office. From the beginning, Ivan had made it very clear that Alfred was never to touch any of Ivan's files in the room claiming it contained the personal information of clients that, by contract, could never be seen by the eyes of anyone outside of the company by threat of a lawsuit.

That threat had made Alfred even more curious. Being naturally nosy, he had wanted to see if what Ivan said was true, but every time he had tried to pick the locks on the file cabinets or hack into Ivan's computer, something in his mind convinced him that doing so was wrong.

As he made his way into the room, he brushed his hand over Ivan’s metal filing cabinets, seeing if he could read them with his mind. He wondered what information was so important that Ivan had to lock the door every time he worked. But every time he asked, the answer was always the same.

"It's confidential, Alfred. I don't want you getting in trouble."

He had just picked up the plant when his phone began to vibrate in his back pocket. Putting the plant back down, he reached into his pocket and retrieved his phone to see that the caller was his father, Arthur; the image of a green dragon breathing fire and a caller ID of “Mr. Always Mad” told him so.

Letting out a soft groan, he waited before answering, “Hey, dad. What’s-”

“That scoundrel is the head of Russia's Bratva.” The silence that followed lasted so long that Arthur had to call out Alfred’s name to see if he was still there.

“Who?” Alfred asked with a nervous chuckle that made his voice shake. But he knew exactly who and Arthur knew he knew as well. Being the one to live with Ivan, Alfred knew the man had many things to hide. He heard the hushed phone calls, smelled the scent of gun polish, was wary of Ivan’s long trips away from home, but Alfred never questioned them. Or he didn’t want to.

That shining image of Ivan, his perfect husband, the love of his life, he wanted to keep it, but that image was beginning to fade.

“I have evidence, Alfred. That man is dangerous and I need you to leave him right now. He’s not who you think he is. He’s probably using you and you know exactly why.”

As my son, you must trust no one. Every person you meet may be someone who is trying to use you to get to me.

Arthur had told him that when Alfred had fucked up the first time and dated someone he shouldn’t. After that, all of Alfred’s lovers needed Arthur’s approval, but Ivan had come up clean in all of Arthur’s background checks. Until now.

“You hated him from the beginning. You have a bias against Russians and you know it. How do I know this isn’t just another one of your little tricks to break us up?”

A heavy sigh was heard through the phone. “I know I have been very harsh on him but this time, I do have evidence. I’m going to send you DNA tests. One was taken from an encounter with their head. One of my men had shot him and he left his blood behind. We took samples so we’d have the proof if we would one day need it and turns out, we did. I stole a hair from your bathroom, Alfred. The samples match.”

Alfred was laughing loudly but his hands had begun to grow clammy. His grip on his phone tightened so much that he was afraid the screen would crack. “Yeah okay. Anyone can print out a DNA test. You’re going to have to try harder than that.” And with that, he ended the call, muted his phone, and grabbed the plant.

“Gotta be a joke, right?” Alfred whispered to Antoinette, his only way of reassurance. He rubbed his cheek against the cool petals and made his way downstairs. Halfway down, he paused and looked at his husband through the balusters. They framed him as if he was behind the bars of a jail cell and Alfred had to tear his eyes away from the sight. But the picture was still burned in his mind and followed his vision like an afterimage.

“What was so funny?”

Alfred flinched just slightly but he made it look like he was just adjusting his hold on the plant. “Oh nothing. My dad called and he said he’d volunteer to cook Thanksgiving dinner. Can you imagine? He’d burn the entire house down!” His voice didn’t flatter even the slightest as he lied straight through his teeth. Ivan had fallen for it. He was laughing too and had gotten up to stand behind Alfred as he adjusted the plant’s position on the table.

As Alfred busied himself with the plant, he felt Ivan lean in and leave kisses on the back of his neck. Kisses this light and innocent couldn’t be ones of someone as demonous and horrid as the Bratva head, he told himself. Someone with this much blood on his hands can’t live with themselves this easily. But Alfred was not one to talk. With his body count, he still lived as if he had never hurt a fly. Perhaps they were more alike than Alfred first thought.

“Ivan,” Alfred reached his arm back so he could thread his fingers through Ivan’s hair and keep his husband’s head on his shoulder, “would you ever lie to me?”

Ivan breathed out heavily, his breath making the flower petals sway, and his arms wrapped around Alfred’s torso. “Yes, I would.”

Alfred hesitated a little, “About what?”

Ivan was silent for a while before letting out a soft groan, “I lie about not knowing the names of your plants. I know all of them and when you’re not home, I talk to them too because I get lonely.”

The unexpectedness of his answer made Alfred chuckle. “And what else?”

Ivan made an annoyed noise and slumped against Alfred. “Okay okay, you caught me. Your cooking is almost as bad as your father’s but I don’t want to hurt your feelings so I choke it down.”

“Excuse me!?”

“Sometimes I eat before coming home. Especially when you make chicken. You never season it and it’s always so dry.”

“Amazing. After two years, tonight's going to be your first night sleeping on the couch.”

“You asked for the truth so I gave it.”

“And as punishment, I get to top tonight.”

“I don’t like it when you top because you always finish so soon.”

“Okay, Ivan. We’re done with the confessions.” Letting go of Ivan’s hair, Alfred gave his husband a light smack on the forehead and turned around to kiss him. Even when their kiss ended, he stayed close, enjoying the warmth of his breathing.

It was Ivan that broke their peace. “Would you ever lie to me?” he asked, returning Alfred’s question.

Alfred took a while to answer, taking his sweet time caressing Ivan’s face and admiring every one of his features while he became lost in thought. And the more he thought, the more he realized that it was unfair of him to ask Ivan that question. His own life was full of secrets he kept from Ivan and he lied so often that he sometimes forgot what was a lie and what was the truth. Who was he to expect the whole truth out of Ivan when he himself was lying about almost everything?

Perhaps some things would be better kept secret. Alfred didn’t really care that Ivan was the head of the Russian Bratva. The Bratva was the Kirkland Clan’s sworn enemy, not Alfred’s. That was business, and this was Alfred’s own life.

“Yes, I would,” he finally echoed. And before Ivan could continue, Alfred placed his finger on Ivan’s lips. “But some things are better kept as lies. You keep your secrets and I keep mine. But I swear on my life that I will never hurt you or betray you.”

Ivan smiled and kissed Alfred’s finger and then took hold of his hand to kiss his knuckles. “I too swear to never hurt you or betray you. And that’s a promise I will hold forever. Please know that I don’t want to lie to you, but there are things you shouldn’t know.”

“I know.” And in his eyes, Alfred knew that Ivan knew what he meant. The two weren’t idiots. Both were master liars and knew how to spot one a mile away. They knew all the signs of someone working for the underground; they just didn’t want to face the truth. So they kept lying, even though the truth was already told.

[-w-]

“Are you listening to me?” Alfred leaned his body forward so he was facing his father who was sitting in the front seat of the car and driving at an accelerated speed. The younger had been dragged out of his home and stuffed into the car without any explanation, and the only reason he didn’t fight back was because he didn’t want to punch his dad or his brother. “I asked what the hell is going on!”

When his father didn’t respond and held his stoic face, Alfred turned to his brother and punched him in the arm. “Tell me right now or I’m selling your bear sanctuary to the lumber company.” And when Matthew didn’t respond either, Alfred sat back down and pulled out his phone.

Putting it on speaker, he speed-dialed the number going to the company’s head and waited, glaring at Matthew through the rear-view mirror. It was the threat Alfred used often and came in handy a lot so he had placed the number on speed-dial.

Matthew had begun to grow nervous and kept glancing back at Alfred then over to Arthur and back again.

The phone clicked. “Alfred?”

“Vik! Been a while since I heard your voice.” His own voice sounded cheerful and carefree but on his face, his eyes were wide with anger, staring straight at Matthew.

“Yes, it has been a while. Why are you calling?”

“Yeah, so I heard you’ve had your eyes on one of our reserves?”

Matthew reached out to grip Arthur’s arm but he shook it until his hands detached. “Alfred, please.” he whispered, reaching behind the seat to try and grab the phone.

The man on the phone laughed and continued, “Your brother’s bear reserve? Yes. I’m guessing you two are having a fight again?”

“Yes, we are. But he doesn’t seem to be giving in. I might get to sell it to you this time!” Alfred smiled wide at his brother, showing all his teeth.

As the man grunted and waited for their fight to settle, Matthew tried desperately to get the phone but Alfred plastered himself against the door so his brother couldn’t reach.

“Name the price, Vik. He ain’t giving in.”

Vik on the other end made a long, exaggerated thinking noise, knowing Alfred would never sell the land, but he’d still play along. “How’s ten dollars a square acre sound?”

“Oh ten dollars a square acre! That’s so generous! I can’t accept that!” At this point, Matthew had taken off his seatbelt and was trying to climb into the back seat but Alfred held him off with his feet. “I can sell you the whole reserve for uuuuuh…” he looked straight into Matthew’s eyes, “one peanut butter cup.”

“One peanut butter cup? I can’t afford that. All I have is a single chocolate chip I dropped from my cookie.” Vik and Alfred were close. He knew this game.

“Perfect!” Alfred looked at Matthew as he backed off and tried to beg Arthur but the man was stubborn, something Alfred clearly inherited. “I’ll come by your office at 11am tomorrow with the papers. Don’t forget the payment!”

“Stop! I give! Don’t touch my reserve, asshole!”

Alfred made a smug face before pretending to pout. “Aw, sorry, Vik. Maybe next time.”

Vik gave a dramatic sigh and groaned, “Yes, next time. Goodbye, Alfred.”

Alfred hung up and leaned forward, “Talk.”

“Don’t you da-”

“It’s Ivan.” Matthew cut off his father and tightened his fist. “The authorities finally pinned him and they’re on their way to your house to arrest him. I wiped your name from the records so it says that Ivan lived alone. If you were in that house when the police arrived, they’ll accuse you of harboring a criminal or being a partner in crime. We needed to get you out before they got there.”

“I warned you, Alfred. I told you to leave that man, but you didn’t listen to me. This is for your own good.” Arthur never took his eyes off the road when he spoke and his voice stayed calm and emotionless. “You’re better without him.”

“You’re wrong.” Without waiting for the car to stop, Alfred popped the lock and threw himself out of the car. It was only because of his fast reflexes that he had managed to quickly roll away from incoming traffic and make his way onto the sidewalk.

“Alfred!” Arthur stuck his head out of the car window to shout at his son. His threats were quickly silenced by the cars behind him honking for him to move.

Alfred paid him no attention and instead gave the car one last look before sprinting back towards his house. The aches in his body from his scratched and bleeding limbs didn’t bother him one bit. All he cared about was getting back to the house before it was too late.

[-w-]

After scaling a couple six-foot fences, stealing a bike, and paying someone to park their van in the middle of the road so Arthur couldn’t get through, Alfred had made it back to his neighborhood drenched in sweat. He prayed to any deity that would listen to grant him one wish: that Ivan was home safe and the police had not arrived.

But his prayers fell on deaf ears. As he turned the corner, he saw a hoard of bright blue and red lights from the crowd of squad cars surrounding his house. He hit the brakes on the bike so hard that he lost control and plummeted onto the concrete.

The noise had alerted one of his neighbors who was being interviewed by an officer. She quickly looked up and pointed her crooked little finger at him. Alfred could read off her lips that she had said, "that's him" with a sinister face as if she had waited so long to see him jailed. Before he could even get back on his feet, the officer had shouted for backup and was charging towards Alfred.

Alfred scrambled to get back up and took off running with the enemy hot on his heels. They shouted orders for him to stop or they would shoot. But that wouldn't happen, right?

He tried to reason with himself that they wouldn't. His heart pounded in his ears and his shoes beat against the pavement as he cursed under his breath. He shouldn't have ran. He practically proved his own guilt and admitted himself to prison.

Shots rang out behind him with the bullets ricocheting off the concrete below. They were actually doing it. They were shooting him. The situation was more dire than he thought. They really thought he was a criminal.

A piercing pain shot through his leg as one of the bullets had hit their mark. He shrieked as his leg failed to support him and sent him tumbling into the ground once again. His breathing was ragged and his leg burned with pain he couldn't describe. All he knew was that the bullet had gone straight through him and it took only seconds for the ones chasing him to pin him to the ground.

He was cuffed and dragged to the squad car, his wound leaving a trail of blood on his way there. They didn't care for the wound at all and some had even cursed at him, saying he didn't deserve the treatment. Some even taunted him and made the pain worse by grabbing his injured leg as he was forced into the back seat. With his hands restrained, all he could do was writhe in pain as they drove off.

"Don't get your fucking blood in my car, bitch." the cop driving growled at him, "I'll make you lick off every last stain."

"Fuck you." Alfred snarled back, kicking his good leg against the divider separating them. He hated that his voice shook and tears burned in his eyes. His pant leg was already drenched and his head was light from the loss of blood.

More than ever he wanted to be free and fight this man for destroying his life, but he was only doing injury to himself as he left marks on his wrists from the struggle against the metal cuffs. He clenched his teeth, black spots clouded his vision and his body felt cold. And before he knew it, he was slumped on the seat, lost in a dark sea of numbness.

[-w-]

A single gunshot through his leg wasn't enough to kill him, but with the trials that had followed his arrest, Alfred had wished that the bullet had gone through his head and not his thigh. Not only had it left him with a slight limp and two scars, it forced him to sit through months of courtroom battles with trips back and forth from court to prison.

Sometimes he wouldn’t even appear in court, but he was still forced to sit through every painful second via a camera and a screen. Arthur had connections strong enough to get Alfred into a private cell, but in the daytime, he was forced to be with the other prisoners. Some had thought he was just a pretty boy to be messed with, but after just the first day, everyone knew not to touch him. And if they did, then by the time Alfred is through with them, they would have at least one permanent injury.

Most fights had been started by Alfred himself. He had so much anger pent up inside of him and all this stress weighing on his shoulders. The trials had forced him to say cruel and insulting things about Ivan as his crocodile tears spilled in buckets at each confession. He had been painted as a victim of Ivan’s schemes, “used as a cover to pretend to be a normal civilian,” his lawyer had told him to say, and Alfred had hated every moment of it.

The stories tainted his mind. They had been made to sound so true that Alfred had almost begun to believe it as well. But he knew, deep in his heart, that not a single word of it was fact. He had loved Ivan, and he knew that Ivan loved him. He was never used, never assaulted, and Ivan had never forced him to do anything he didn’t want.

Outside of the trials when he was alone with his lawyer, he always asked if he had word of Ivan, but the man always told him no. His husband had seemingly vanished off the face of the earth and no one knew where he had gone.

He had planned to search the entire planet for Ivan the second he was freed, but at the end of the trials, he had been put under police watch for five years but that was all. Alfred had gotten off with a slap on the wrist. The judge, the jury, the lawyers, and most of the press attending the trials had all been bought off by Arthur, by threat or by cash. Without his father’s influence, Alfred faced decades in jail.

Ungrateful brat or not, Alfred was still a Kirkland, and Arthur would rather die than have Alfred deface his name. To have his own son be the traitorous whore that slept with the enemy would be such an insult that Arthur would kill Alfred himself if the electric chair didn’t claim him first.

But by some miracle, not only did the media and the city’s people believe the story, but so did the people of the underground. The Kirkland Clan’s hatred for the Russian Bratva grew tenfold hearing how their leader’s son was used, and the Russian Bratva cheered on their former head for being able to infiltrate their enemy in such an insulting manner.

Alfred had been caught in between the sugar-coated words of pity and the sexual taunts from both sides that he could only bear for so long. After just a month, he had decided to move to another state where Arthur’s business didn’t reach, but with his police watch still in effect, he was denied at the state border.

Five years trapped in this state was hell. Alfred had grown accustomed to his twice-a-month trips, and being unable to leave made it feel like a prison of its own kind.

In time, the story of Alfred had faded. People had stopped talking about it and quickly moved on to the next celebrity scandal, and for that, Alfred was grateful. With his assassin gear and costumes destroyed in “an unfortunate electrical failure that sparked a fire in the storage unit,” Alfred was forced to live a normal life under the watchful eyes of the authorities.

Now with nothing exciting to do, Alfred fell back on his first life plan: to get a PhD and work for NASA. His father had been opposed to it because he wanted Alfred to help run the organization beside Matthew, but now that Alfred was being watched like a mouse in an owl den, Arthur had no choice but to grit his teeth and wish him luck.

It had taken him all five years of his sentence to earn that degree. Five years of sleepless nights, full days spent at the library, crying over math with classmates, and of course, a little bit of partying, had rewarded him with a PhD in aerospace engineering, and with his internships in between school, a full-time job at NASA.

He had given his speech as valedictorian, gone to court to have his police watch officially removed, and a day later, packed his bags and left for Vegas. Unlike his trip there years ago, the hotel room was lively with his fellow graduates there to keep him company. And when night came, the four headed out into the hot streets of Vegas for an evening of fun.

The men easily became overwhelmed by the many things to do in the bright city. It was Mathias, an architecture graduate, that spoke up first. “We can’t keep walking around like this with our hands in our pockets! What do you want to do, guys?”

“Fuck I know.” Sadik, a graduate in biology, scoffed and took his hands out of his pockets.

Gilbert, an engineering graduate who knew no shame, had thrown his hands into the air and shouted, “Strip! Club!” And as if magically created with Gilbert’s fantasies, the flashy neon sign of a woman on a pole had appeared at the corner of the street.

Gilbert looked at his friends with pleading eyes, and with a couple of indifferent shrugs, Mathias and Sadik had agreed to go. They turned to look at Alfred who had held his hands up and taken a step back.

“Hey, whoa, um, I’m not going. You guys have fun but I got somewhere else to be. Besides, if I’m there, you guys won’t stand a chance against me.” Alfred smirked and laughed as his friends jumped on him with playful punches and noogies, but in the end, they weren’t going to pressure him to go and had gone to the club after making sure that Alfred was okay being alone.

He stood at the corner of the street watching his friends disobey road rules for the sake of getting to the club faster and rolled his eyes with a chuckle when he saw them shout at a car that had honked at them. Only when they were inside did Alfred finally unplant his feet from the ground.

Everything here was new and remodeled, but even if it wasn’t, the last time he had walked these streets, he had done so while piss drunk. But with the help of a map and directions from a taxi driver, Alfred had finally made it to where he wanted to be.

A wedding reception had just ended, it seemed, and two brides, one tall and beautiful and the other like a ball of sunshine, came out of the chapel with bells ringing and flower petals showering their loving kiss.

The scene made Alfred ache with jealousy and his hand went to unconsciously clutch the ring he wore on a chain underneath his shirt. His wedding ring—the one Arthur had told him to toss out—had never left his side. He kept the ring with him for five years in hopes that one day, Ivan would return and put the ring back on his finger. But the harsh reality was that Ivan never did. Even so, Alfred’s heart never strayed and he turned down the many relationship offers he'd received in Ivan’s absence.

But at one point, he had to accept that he would never see Ivan again. He needed to take his own advice given during the valedictorian speech and move on from the darkness of the past to see the light of a new future.

With a deep breath, Alfred took the chain off his neck and unclasped it to slide the ring into his palm. He pocketed the chain then held the silver band up to the neon green lights of the sign, watching the flashes of color dance across the metal.

“Well,” he muttered, “guess it’s time to say goodbye.” With his parting words said, he slipped the ring onto the branch of the tree beside him. If someone found it, then he hoped that the ring would be given to someone who would live a marriage happier than his own.

Without looking back, he left, his steps feeling lighter as if he had been freed. Not of Ivan, but of the pain of waiting for his impossible return. He turned his head to the sky to breathe the air, and even though it reeked of gasoline and sewage, it was the freshest air Alfred had ever breathed.

He had his hands stuffed in his pocket, his steps crossing one another as he bounced to the tune of his own humming, when a shout interrupted his peace.

Over the sound of cars and Vegas life, he heard the sound of someone shouting, “Sir!” He thought nothing of it at first, his humming resuming its made up tune, but then the shouts drew closer to him.

The man’s voice made Alfred’s heart sting with pain. It was a voice he had known so well, but instead of turning around to meet the source of the cries, he shoved his hands deeper into his pockets and quickened his pace.

Heart beating faster, he willed the voice to disappear, to stop calling out, but it only came closer until Alfred broke out into a run. The voice chased him, calling out for him to stop, but Alfred didn’t listen nor did he turn around. It had called him out by his name and the familiar sound threw him into the wind, making him forget how to move his legs and trip over his own feet.

The sidewalk left scratches on his palms, but he ignored the pain, more concerned about getting away from who was following him. But Alfred’s stumble had given the pursuer enough time to catch up. Large hands helped Alfred into a sitting position and quickly examined his hands to see the injuries.

“Oh, God. Alfred, it is you. Why did you run?” the voice spoke. The face of the voice haunted Alfred’s memories but he kept his eyes tightly closed and shoved away the man in front of him. “Alfred please. What’s wrong? It’s me! Ivan! Did you forget?”

Alfred’s eyes snapped open and he had only glanced at the face for a split second before he slapped it so hard it fell out of his vision. “Why the fuck are you here!” he screamed, his voice sounding small in the empty streets. He had run so far that the two were alone on the quiet residential streets. “You’re supposed to be dead!”

He grabbed Ivan’s collar and pulled him up again so they were eye to eye. His mouth opened to speak but shock halted his voice. It wasn’t the Ivan he remembered. This man had hair that was dark black and eyes that looked to be dark brown. It couldn’t be Ivan. This man wasn’t Ivan. It was a joke.

But when the man groaned and rubbed his sore cheek and then muttered a soft, “ow…” Alfred’s heart couldn’t stop speeding at seeing the familiar face. It had to be Ivan. Who else would it be? He had even said it was his name.

“That is not what I expected your first gesture to be…” He moved his face muscles around, testing out the pain. “I expected something more like a hug.”

As the man spoke, Alfred could only sit there in silence, analyzing every part of the man’s face. Besides the hair and eyes, this man also had a short beard, light wrinkles, and a beauty mark next to his right eye.

“You don't know how long I've waited for you, Alf-”

“You’re not Ivan.” he cut him off. “Don’t say my name.”

“Al-... Mr… Kirkland…” he said the name slowly, using Alfred’s real surname and not the one he had taken. “Please. I know I don’t look like I used to, but I am Ivan. I needed to change my face because the police are still looking for me. It’s me, my love.” Ivan reached out for Alfred’s hand but Alfred snatched it away from him and scooted back farther until his back was against a shrub.

“No! I don’t care. I came here to toss out that stupid ring because you never came back for me. Do you know how much it hurts to feel like you’ve been abandoned? Huh?” When Ivan stayed silent, Alfred continued. “I hate you. I fucking hate you. You left me alone to deal with all the pity and all the shame while you were here living a new life in Vegas. You were here drinking martinis every night and I was at home being watched by the fuzz for five years.

“You left me alone in an empty house where every night I would sit at the bedroom window waiting for your stupid head to pop up and take me away. But you never fucking came and it hurt so much that I had to move back in with my dad!

“I thought that I could give you up by burying myself with work and books, but every single day, I looked at my flowers and all I could think about was you!” His voice rose at each line and soon his eyes welled up with tears. “You-” he paused, voice breaking, “I was alone and everyone told me you were a monster. They told me you never had it in your cold heart to love me. And I believed them because it was easier than waiting for you to come back to me.”

His last words died into a whisper as he sobbed into his hands. All his pain pent up from the years since Ivan had left him spilled out of his heart. Even if it pained him to get the words out, once they were out, he felt a sense of relief.

Warmth surrounded him when Ivan’s arms pulled him into his chest. This warmth he had missed so much had finally returned. For the longest time, Alfred wailed into Ivan’s shoulder, making the shirt messy and wet, but Ivan held him close the whole time, whispering apologies into his ear as he cried too from hearing Alfred’s suffering.

“I never wanted to leave you,” Ivan croaked, “I’m so sorry that you were alone. I’m so sorry.” He pulled away and wiped the tears from his lover’s eyes, then held his face in his hands so tenderly that Alfred feared he’d cry for another reason.

“I waited for you everyday too, Alfred. I came here because I knew that fate would one day bring us back together. I knew you were under police watch so I couldn’t go back to you because I knew that the second I stepped foot into our home, they’d kill me. I didn’t want you to see me die, Alfred. I waited. I waited so long and watched so many weddings and all I could think about was you.” He reached out for Alfred’s hand then moved it so Alfred’s fingers touched the ring on Ivan’s finger. “I never took it off. Never.”

Ivan reached into his pocket and pulled out Alfred’s ring. He had taken it off the branch and was now offering it back to Alfred. It was his choice. If he really hated Ivan and wanted to move on, then he could refuse the ring. But if he still loved him, then the object that bound them was his to take.

Alfred sat in silence for a while. So long that Ivan had begun to think that Alfred had truly given up on him. Perhaps he had waited too long and their love had faded. And perhaps the pain was just too much to be forgiven.

But as Ivan slowly lowered his hand in defeat, Alfred reached out, gently plucking the ring from his palm. He sniffed and wiped off the mess on his face aggressively with his sleeves before holding the ring out to Ivan. When Ivan didn’t respond, Alfred snatched his hand and pressed the ring back into his hand and then held out his left, fingers spread and palm facing down.

“If you want me back,” he sniffed again, voice wavering, “then you put a ring on it yourself.” He couldn’t keep a straight face. His frown had spread into a wide smile even as his lip trembled.

Ivan didn’t waste a single second, quickly sliding the ring back onto his husband’s finger before pulling him into an embrace. The crying had started once again, but this time they were tears of joy.

“I’ve missed holding you like this, dorogoy. You make my heart burst!” Ivan laughed, his crying making his words sound muddled.

“Me too.” Alfred cried into his shirt. “Me too...”

The sob fest went on until their tears ran out and their knees ached from being on the concrete for so long. So after a bit of a struggle to get back up with their wobbly legs, they headed back to the chapel, hand in hand.

“I’m still mad at you, you know.” Alfred spoke, his voice hoarse from crying.

“That’s alright.”

“I’m serious.”

“I know. Oh! I forgot!”

Ivan brought Alfred’s hand up to remove the ring, but just like the first time he had attempted to do so, Alfred’s hand clasped around his wrist and stopped him.

“Alfred. Trust me.” he whispered with the same softness as Alfred remembered.

Putting all his trust into Ivan, Alfred let go and let him remove the ring. He watched as Ivan got down on one knee and held the ring out to him as if it were the first time.

“Alfred Kirkland, will you marry me? As Alyosha Morozov?”

Alfred snorted at hearing the name and swiped at his wet eyes. “Alyosha Morozov? Really?”

“I had to change it to start over. Will you start over with me? Be Alfred Morozov-Kirkland?”

Alfred chuckled and shook his head. “No.” He smirked at Ivan’s shocked face. “But I will be Alfred Jones-Morozov.” Then he held out his hand for the ring. For the second time tonight, a ring was put on his finger, but this time it was for the sake of new beginnings, not old bonds.

He pulled Ivan back onto his feet so he could cup his face and kiss him until he was out of breath, then he kissed him some more until their crying made them so short of breath that they could only press their foreheads together and feel the heat of each others’ breath on their lips.

But it was enough. As long as they had each other again, it was enough. Alfred’s hands were scratched, their knees hurt, their faces were a mess of tears and snot, but in their hearts, nothing was better than this.

Nothing.

#rusame #rusame fanfiction #hetalia russia #hetalia america #mafia au #hetalia fanfiction #drunken marriage #hitman au #lord where do i begin #i started this fic in like november #and i changed it like a hundred times and this is the 7th version #i had plans for it to be a lot more sad #but i got stuck writing it 10 times so i scraped it #i am so so so so so so so s o sorry this took so long #also Alyosha means like warrior or smth and Morozov means frost #so his name is General winter LM A O #hehe finger guns

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shepherd-of-the-stars · 6 years ago

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I adore this!!! They all look so amazing omg. Thank you so much for completing it. I'm so happy you came through ;w; I love this so much aaaaaaaah!!!! ❤❤❤

And there's no bad blood. Dont worry

#art #others #quest of a prince #sorry it took so long to respond #i'm not on my personal account a lot

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shepherd-of-the-stars · 6 years ago

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Quest of a Prince Ch. 1

Here's my submission for the Rusame Big Bang!

Sorry if there are mistakes in this. I haven't proof read it. I've got too many deadlines rn ;w;

Word count: 5,162

Chapter summary: A quest is received and a journey begins

Warnings: one(1) sexual comment

Rating: T (M for future chapters)

Also avaliable on ao3 and FFnet

Chapter 1: Sea

Nothing in this world is given without work, effort, and sacrifice.

For a man to be given respect, one must do a deed worthy of gaining it. For a soldier to become a hero, one must fight and make sacrifices greater than the others. And for a Prince to become a King, one must complete a quest given by the gods.

Every heir, for generations, has been given a quest to complete once the time they are to take the throne draws near. They must isolate themselves from everyone else and kneel in front of the altar until the gods direct them on their path. Sometimes, it would take a whole day and they would receive nothing but silence, and those that lacked faith in the religion would sometimes give up, claiming they needed no quest to be crowned because the gods saw they had already proven themselves in the years of their upbringing.

Ivan’s father was one of these men.

King Rasputitsa, as everyone knew, was a short-tempered man. He had little patience, he lacked sympathy, and everyday he would laugh at the gods and spit on their names. When it came time for him to receive his quest at age forty-six, he refused to kneel in front of anyone, even the gods, but was forced onto his knees by his father, the King at the time.

Rasputitsa’s father was stepping down due to old age, and being the only heir, Rasputitsa was next in line. He didn’t kneel. Instead, he sat at the pew, arms and leg crossed as he stared at the statue of the Goddess of Fate and scowled at her. He lasted no more than an hour before coming out of the room and telling everyone present that “the Goddess has given me a quest: I am to return to my chambers and bed my wife.” Then he laughed at the people’s horror and walked away.

But with no other heirs, Rasputitsa was crowned. He thought he was invincible. The first king to be crowned and to rule without having to complete a quest. He became drunk with power, caring for nothing but himself and his gold and glory, but on the sixth year of his ruling, he was killed in a hunt. No heroics, no fight, only shame. The prideful fool, having set off while drunk, had run his horse down a hill too steep and was crushed under the weight of his own steed as they tumbled down the slope. The horse survived, but King Rasputitsa was half eaten by crows before they had found him.

Everyone in the kingdom cried ��Good riddance!” hearing the news and even Ivan felt a sense of relief now that his father was dead. Though with him gone, it meant Ivan was the next heir, and even before he could breathe in one breath of relief, a new weight was placed on his chest, suffocating him.

With Rasputitsa gone, Ivan, at age twenty, was to be king. And as he kneeled before the altar, something his father refused to do, he couldn’t stop the trembling in his fingers as he waited for the gods to gift him his quest.

Ivan was still so young. He wasn’t ready to be king and he still had so much to learn. But a kingdom does not last long without a ruler. And no matter how inexperienced, having a king was better than having none. At least Ivan knew he would be better than his father.

It was approaching the seventh hour of Ivan’s waiting and he knew because he could see the sun setting behind the stained glass windows. His knees were numb even though they rested on a cushion and his back ached from having to keep his posture for so long. He was thirsty, he was hungry, but unlike his father, he waited. He didn’t want to make the same mistakes that man made. He would never follow in his footsteps. Never.

Straightening his back again and giving his stiff shoulders a roll, he looked up at the face of the goddess and made a vow to himself: I will never be like my father. And it was a vow he knew he would keep.

Then, finally, he saw movement. From the eyes of the goddess, he saw tears. They dripped down her marble cheeks and onto the altar, more and more until they flooded the room so quickly that Ivan felt that it had been filled in mere seconds.

Ivan couldn’t move as the water surrounded him, yet he wasn’t drowning. In fact, the water around him was calming. It made the aches in his body disappear and was so warm it felt like he was being wrapped in furs as he laid in his bed.

As he closed his eyes, he heard a voice. A woman, her voice so powerful that it made Ivan feel like a sprout in the presence of the sun. Yet at the same time, it was gentle, like a mother speaking to her newborn child as she promised them the world.

“You must go to the center of the Frozen Sea and into the Forest of Ice.” she told him, “There, you will find a creature of the deep, more beautiful than you can imagine, and ask for them to bring you their greatest treasure. Only when you have returned with the item, will you be worthy enough to be king.”

As much as he wanted to open his eyes and witness the face of the goddess, his eyes remained shut as if they were sewn. And his body remained motionless as if it were not his own anymore, or like his body did not even exist.

“This quest will require you to make a great sacrifice, and when you think it is over, you will find yourself on a journey once again. Though this quest will be hard and push your mind and body to your absolute limit, in the end, the reward you gain will last you a lifetime of happiness that cannot be obtained from wealth or power.”

Then in an instant, the voice, the sea of tears, everything, was gone. When Ivan opened his eyes, everything was the same, but something had changed.

The tremble in his hands were gone. He felt braver, he felt more at peace, and he felt like he could take on anything. Ivan was not his father; he was Prince Ivan Braginsky, heir to the throne and future king of Rusnia.

As he stood, his knees buckled from kneeling for such a long period of time, and he needed some time for his legs to regain their function, but once they were working again, he stood up, patted down his clothes, bowed low to the statue, and marched towards the door with his head held high.

When he opened the doors, there was an audience waiting for him. The royal advisors, the Volkhvy, the royal witch, and anyone important enough to be there was present and waiting patiently to hear what his quest was. They all turned to him with eager faces and bowed their heads low once they saw Ivan step through the doors.

“My journey is to the Forest of Ice in the Frozen Sea.” Ivan announced, his voice proud and clear, “I’m to find a creature that resides there who will gift me an item that shall make me king. I need a ship and a large crew willing to make this journey with me, and in return, they will be rewarded in silver for their work, should the thought of aiding a Price to become a King mean nothing to them.”

Ivan’s stern speech was just for formalities. Under his stoic mask, a smile was twitching at his lips because Ivan knew that just by even receiving a quest, he was taking the first steps in the right direction to becoming a man better than his father. And when he turned to leave to his room, he could see that many of those who were present had felt the same way. He could see it in their eyes, the way they sparkled with pride and crinkled from the wide smile that pushed them up.

Their pride made Ivan’s grow at the same rate as their own. All of them had been under the heel of Ivan’s father and they waited restlessly for this day ever since the start of their service. Ivan would be a great king, they all knew it, but Ivan could never push away the doubt he felt no matter how many times he had surpassed his father in small feats.

Behind him, he heard footsteps of someone trying to catch up to him. “My lord!” they called out, and Ivan quickly recognized that voice.

It was his father’s advisor. A man that Ivan treated as a father more than the one he was born with. Igor treated him with kindness, he taught him everything there was to know about ruling, and because he failed to keep Rasputitsa from becoming corrupt, he did his very best to make sure Ivan would never become like him.

He had taken care of Ivan after his mother passed when he was ten due to illness, and while his father laughed at him for crying like a weakling and almost immediately took in a second wife, Igor came to him with open arms and words of comfort. It was Igor that taught him to be kind, unlike his father. Igor taught him that crying is not weakness, it was bravery, because he was showing his deepest emotions to someone else while others merely held it in.

Ivan slowed down in his stride so the much older man could catch up to him before he turned to him with a smile. “What is it, Igor?”

Igor glanced over at the servants, who congratulated Ivan briefly while bowing their heads, before clearing his throat. “I have ordered servants to bring food and water to your chambers. If you would like, I can also request that they prepare you a bath to ease the ache of your knees.”

“It’s alright, Igor. The food and water will be fine.”

The two walked through the halls in silence until the servants were nowhere to be seen. Ivan spotted Igor staring at him for a few moments with a goofy smile on his face before he let out a deep laugh and placed a hand on Ivan’s shoulder. “You did it.”

“I did it.” Ivan repeated, closing his eyes for a second as he breathed in deeply, “But receiving a quest is not the same as completing it. I still have a very long journey ahead of me.”

“Perhaps.” Igor said in a chipper tone, his smile visible even behind his thick, gray beard. He retracted his arm from Ivan’s shoulder to fold them behind his back as they continued down the long hall. “But, even receiving a quest is better than what your father could have ever done. You’re taking the steps to becoming a proper king blessed by the gods, and once you complete the quest, you’ll become the greatest of them all. I know it.”

“But what if I don’t complete the quest.” Ivan’s smile was beginning to flatter. Though he had received a quest, he knew that completing it would not be something to be done easily. The Frozen Sea itself was already dangerous because, as the name implied, sheets and sheets of ice covered the massive expanse of water and many ships never returned from their journey.

The Forest of Ice was even worse. Despite the name making it seem like a pleasant place, there was nothing pleasant about it. The Forest of Ice was not a forest of trees, nor did it have any land at all. It was an area of the Sea where icicles stuck out of the water like trees and made it seem like a dense forest, and underneath the waters, jagged masses of ice tore up ships until they sank into the depths.

The Forest of Ice was only a formal name. The name it was given, because of the myths and stories, was the Crystal Graves. With its unpredictable winds and hidden traps, only the strongest of ships with the most skilled captains and crews made it through. And those that did not remained there for the rest of their life, encased in clear ice. Thinking about being one of those people made a shiver run down Ivan’s spine.

Seeing the worry on Ivan’s face, Igor slowed in his step to give them more time to talk as they made their way to Ivan’s chambers. “Ivan,” Igor had looked around to make sure no one was around before speaking to Ivan informally, “did I ever tell you the tale of your great, great, great, grandfather? King Alyosha?”

Ivan thought for a minute before humming in confirmation and nodding his head. “Yes. King Alyosha. He slayed a dragon for his quest, correct?”

“Incorrect.” Igor poked him with a smirk. “King Alyosha’s given quest was much tougher than yours. When he was an age a little older than you, he was given a quest, a quest to go to the cave of dragons and return with an egg.”

“Ah, so there was a dragon involved. I was almost right.”

“Yes yes, there was a dragon involved.” The two shared a moment to laugh, Igor shaking his head playfully at Ivan’s need to be right. “But, there was no slaying as you would think. King Alyosha thought the same as you. No mother would give up their child, and a dragon, though cold-blooded, would also never give up her egg. King Alyosha, armed with swords and a small army of men, charged into the cave expecting to slay all the dragons and return with the egg in hand so he could become king.”

“And did he?”

“No. He lost all his men. King Alyosha came out of the battle alive as if the dragons had spared his life. He did this once more with the same thing happening, and when it came to the third time, he decided that no more men should be lost for him to be king. He laid down his armor, his sword, even his crown, and walked into the cave as a man.

“He looked the dragon straight in the eye, and mind you, this dragon, being a mother, possibly had a nose bigger than his entire body. But he looked her in her eyes and told her, ‘I am Prince Alyosha, heir to the throne of the Kingdom of Rusnia, and in order to succeed, I require one of your eggs.’”

“And she gave it to him?” Ivan looked down at Igor with curiosity.

“Yes. She gave it to him. Only if he vowed to return her child after his quest was deemed complete. You see, these quests are not tests of one's strength or their abilities. They are tests of your heart and mind. If Prince Alyosha had continued trying to complete his quest in the way he started it, he would have lost almost all the warriors in the whole kingdom trying to fight these dragons. He would be seen as a prince who would stop at nothing to be king, even if it meant losing every soldier and every life he could spare. He’d be even more cold-blooded than the dragons he fought.

“But he didn’t. He stopped the bloodshed. He approached the situation with a calm mind and thoughts of peace. He went in there alone, risking only his own life, because he wanted no others to be taken for his sake. And because of it, he became one of the land’s greatest kings.” Igor pat Ivan’s back twice as he looked at him. “And you, Ivan. Your quest is similar, do you see? If you find the creature and order it to give you their treasure, or worse, kill it and take all their belongings, the gods might deem you unworthy.”

Ivan bit his lip as he let the story process in his mind then tried to apply it to his own quest. Like King Alyosha, he could journey out alone to the Frozen Sea but he knew instantly that a feat like that would be one for the records, and it wouldn’t be because he was brave, but because he was an idiot. Many crews couldn’t even survive out there together. There was no way Ivan would survive alone.

Ivan knew these quests were not just about proving to the gods that he was worthy. It was more to prove to themselves that they were worthy. What would they risk and what would they withhold to complete their quest was just as important as the item itself. There was no perfect execution plan for a smooth quest. He would just have to go head first and do what he felt was right.

“I’ll keep that in mind, Igor. Thank you.”

Igor nodded and chuckled as they approached the door to Ivan’s chambers in just a few more steps. “Looks like the end of our little journey.” He stopped in front of the door and turned to Ivan. “Be smart out there, Ivan. Stay strong, be brave, and come home safe. I know you will make everyone proud.”

(-w-)

Prince Ivan’s Log

Day 10

Another man died today from the cold. That makes a total of 3 since this journey began. All of them had been laid to rest in the waters they sailed on and upon returning home, their families will be compensated. These men knew the journey would be rough, yet they wanted to be the ones who would aid me in my quest. I am eternally grateful, for my life rests in their hands.

We are approaching the Forest of Ice. In the distance, there are glaciers so tall it is impossible to compare it to anything built by man, and when between them, any man would feel trapped and short of breath. There is no way around these glaciers and to get to the Forest, we must go through.

It takes the effort of the whole crew, men on every corner of the ship, to call out if we get too close to the ice. If one is not careful, they will tear through the hull and sink the ship. But I trust Arthur and the crew to get us through it safely.

We have finally reached the Forest of Ice and it is easy to tell why it was given this name. In a forest, there are trees so dense that it is hard to see where you are headed. Here, it is just the same, except the icebergs are so massive they can block your view of anything up ahead. Past those, formations of rock and ice stick out of the water like daggers, if daggers were the height of an entire castle or two. They are so large that they would sometimes create arches that the ship can sail through easily and I sometimes wonder what is on top of this ice.

We set anchor on an island. It is shocking that there is any land here at all. This cove will be our camp for however long this quest lasts, and though this land is no castle, it is at least better than rocking constantly on that ship.

While the men build our shelter, I am going to explore the waters alone. Men had offered to accompany me, but this is my quest, and like King Alyosha, I will complete it alone to prevent the loss of any more lives.

Day 20

It has been 10 days since we have arrived and even with hours of exploring, I have yet to discover every part of this land. Though I am grateful for having received a quest, I wish the Goddess had been more specific about where this creature is, or at least how it looked like.

Day 29

Another day wasted searching for this creature. I am starting to wonder if the water prevents the creature from hearing me calling out for it. Or perhaps this creature does not even exist. That is what I overheard someone on the crew whisper at night. They are growing impatient and annoyed with nothing to do but wait for me to find this creature.

Day 32

Our fifth man died today, and at night, I hear whispers that say I am unfit to be king. They say that I will never find this creature and even heard one man suggest abandoning the quest and returning home. I hope to find this creature soon.

Day 40

Stupid creature. I hope you can read this. And when you do, I’m going to trap you and drag you back to my Kingdom.

Day 43

I want to go home.

Day 49

We are running out of food.

Day 54

I’m sick of eating fish.

Day 56

I hate the cold. I miss my bed.

Letting out a frustrated sigh, Ivan tossed his journal to the bottom of his rowboat. He didn’t know why he still wrote in it almost everyday and he was running out of things to write. Everyday since they arrived here was the same and he feared that the words of his men were right. What if the creature was avoiding him? What if his father was right and the gods are fake?

Shaking the thought out of his head, Ivan sat up a little straighter and picked up his oar again, rowing deeper into the caves. If he wasn’t so tired from constant failure, Ivan would have enjoyed the beautiful icicles and stalagmites that surrounded him, covered in ice and emitting a blue or purple hue, but after so many days, exploring the Forest of Ice was no longer fun.

“Creature of the deep,” Ivan said in his normal voice(he had grown tired of shouting after so many days wasted), “I am Prince Ivan and I mean you no harm. Please show yourself so we may speak.” And like every other day, he was met with only silence.

Further and further he rowed, every few minutes reciting his greeting and every time, nothing would answer except his own voice echoing back at him. This quest was testing every ounce of his patience and he was so angry he wanted to snap the oar in half and swim down into the waters to drag that creature out, but he knew realistically he would only last a minute at the most in waters so cold.

“Where are you?” he breathed under his breath as he stopped rowing once again to rest in the center of a large opening. And for the first time since he had started his exploring, he slouched and put his head in his hands. He had been taught since he was a child to never show weakness and always stand tall and proud, but Ivan was at wit’s end. He didn’t care if the creature saw him like this but even if it did, at least he would have seen it at all.

With his head hung low like this, he could see the depths of the water. It was so clear that he could see the formations of rocks below, but with just the light of his candle, he was only able to see so far before the waters became black and unknown to him.

Little fish that glowed gold in order to see in these dark caves came up to his boat to poke the sides of it thinking it was food. When Ivan first saw them, he had thought that these fish were the creatures of the deep, but they gave him nothing. They didn’t even taste that good either so they were useless to him. The only thing they were good for was to ease his boredom.

Pulling his glove off, he stuck his hand slowly into the freezing water and watched as the fish swam away then returned almost seconds later to poke at the rings on his fingers with great curiosity. His hand quickly numbed from the cold but he still felt the tickle of the fishes’ lips and closed his eyes to enjoy the feeling.

For a couple seconds more, he let the fish examine his rings with his eyes closed, but eventually, he felt something odd. At first, he thought it was the cold waters freezing his hand but what he felt was like a pair of hands touching him. And when he opened his eyes, he found that it was. A pair of pale, webbed hands.

He screamed and shot up so fast he had almost fallen out of his rowboat. The motion shook the small vessel so abruptly that his candle went out and cloaked him in darkness. But when he looked down, not only did he see the golden light of the fish, he saw something large and blue that glowed just like the fish did. His scream had scared it away but he still saw its soft light hiding behind a stalagmite not far from his boat.

His heart thundered in his chest and his hand burned from the cold, then suddenly, he realized that this was the creature he had been searching for. As he stood still, he saw the creature’s light move slowly around his boat, circling it with curiosity but very quickly swimming away again at the slightest movement. Ivan looked from the light to his trembling hand and figured that it was his rings that this creature wanted. The light it reflected must have attracted it, and if it was the rings it wanted, then it was the rings it would get.

After chanting a short spell to relight his candle so he could see, Ivan took his golden chain off his neck and strung his rings through it until he had his bait. Very slowly, he sat back down again in his boat and even slower, he lowered the chain of rings into the water where the creature would be able to see it. Then he waited, still as stone, for the creature to come closer.

Ivan’s stillness made the creature less scared and more and more, Ivan could see the glow of its scales. As it got even closer, Ivan saw gold. No, it wasn’t from the fish earlier, but from jewelry. Attached to it was golden hair, then a head, and eyes so blue they sparkled like sapphires.

His breath caught in his throat as he saw the face of a man who didn’t seem to notice Ivan at all. Perhaps it was because Ivan hid his face in his fur cloak to keep from scaring the creature away but Ivan knew that the creature was more scared of Ivan’s boat than he was of Ivan.

But true to the goddess’s word, this creature was more beautiful than anything Ivan has ever seen. Perhaps it was because this creature held the item that would make Ivan king, but Ivan was completely struck by its beauty.

Time seemed to pass slower as the creature slowly gained the courage to reach out his hands again to grab for the rings, and slowly, at an almost unnoticeable pace, Ivan retracted his own hand, pulling the rings and the creature closer to the surface.

Closer and closer he lured it until he was sure he was close enough. Then without warning, he shot his hand down and grabbed the hand reaching for his necklace. The flesh he touched was cold, but not colder than the water, and he knew because the second he grabbed the wrist and tightened his grip, the creature freaked and dragged him off his boat and into the icy water in an attempt to escape.

It swam so fast that Ivan could feel the rush of water flowing past his face and the force of it attacked his eyes with such force that he had to close them. He wasn’t sure how deep into the water the creature dragged him but it wasn’t long before Ivan realized that he had forgotten to breathe in before he was dragged under.

His lungs burned and he felt like he was choking but he didn’t want to let go. This was his only chance, this was his test, and if he let go, it would surely mean he was a failure.

The creature had eventually stopped since the water was only so deep and he tried to pry Ivan’s hands off of his wrist, but even with his fingers numb and burning, he held on tight.

But Ivan was a human, and these waters were this creature’s home. With a strong flick of its tail, he knocked Ivan’s body back and punched the last of his breath out of his lungs.

His instincts took over, and he breathed in, sucking the icy water into his lungs. It choked him, making him breathe in more and more, then his vision turned black.

The panic had lasted only a few seconds before it was over.

The weight of his wet fur cloak dragged him further down until he felt his feet touch the rock at the bottom. But his mind told him that it was okay.

His mind had won the fight against his need to survive. It didn’t want to hurt anymore. It didn’t want to struggle. It wanted to pass peacefully, so it shut off all other feelings in Ivan’s body.

As he was dying, he felt more at peace than ever in his life. He felt warmth all around him and he was embraced like a newborn babe in a warm cloth.

He felt happy, but then, he felt angry. Not at the creature, but at himself. But that anger lasted only a second before it was replaced with hope. Hope that with him gone, the kingdom would be able to get a king more suited to rule.

Ivan, who had failed a simple quest, was unfit, and he knew it to be true.

He felt himself moving, possibly by the currents, but at the moment, he couldn’t care less. His mind had forced him to accept his death and he awaited the moment when the gods would greet him and he would see the face of his mother once more.

In his state, Ivan could almost feel the arms of his mother wrapping around his body in a warm embrace and he couldn’t help but smile.

Then everything around wasn’t black anymore. It was white. And someone was speaking to him in a voice so soft that he knew there was only one source.

“Mama,” he spoke but no sound came out, only the bubbles that carried the last of the air from his lungs and floated to the surface.

#rusamebigbang2018 #rusame #rusame fanfiction #aph russia #aph america #quest of a prince #kingdom au #I wrote half of this severly slee deprived with only 30 minutes of sleep #and the other half with only 3 hours #see if you can spot which halfs #after I post this I have to do my hw so I'm gonna be sleeping at 7am then wake up at 9 to go to class :)#help

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shepherd-of-the-stars · 7 years ago

Text

That’s Above my Paygrade

Hey @iridulcentdays ! I was your backup Santa for the @rusame-secret-santa-2017. Your original Santa never replied to the message which resulted in a default drop-out so uh yeah,,,

A/N: Still have the same shitty keyboard so a few of my keys are sticky (mostly r, t, and g, and now it’s also e and f) so hopefully I don’t make too many typos!

Word count: 5,171

Summary: Magical Strike AU. Alfred F Jones is the biggest troublemaker in the city and constantly picks fights with the wrong people for the thrill of it. Because of this, he has made a number of enemies, enough that he’s gotten death threats and a couple of close encounters. So his father hired him a bodyguard.

Warnings: blood, implied sexual content

Rating: T+ ???

Also available on FFnet and ao3

Alfred listened halfheartedly to his father’s lecturing coming from the speaker on his phone as he slouched in the seat of the car. He’s heard these words a hundred thousand times over and over but Samuel Jones seemed to have forgotten. Or maybe he was trying to drill it through Alfred’s thick skull.

“-but that is enough, do you hear me? Your secretary is sick and tired of cleaning up your messes and trying to answer to the press for you! No more! I hired a bodyguard for you. He should be waiting for you when you get back and I want you to treat him with respect. If I hear any complaints from him, I am cutting off your bank account. Sleep on the streets for all I care!” Jones senior finally took a second to breathe.

“Aw, dad, you hired me a bodyguard to keep me safe? How sweet.” Alfred replied in mock appreciation. It was the only thing he had managed to say besides grunts of confirmation and ‘yes’ or ‘no’ responses.

“You idiot. Open up those clogged ears of yours and listen carefully. That bodyguard is not there for your safety and neither was he hired to be your human shield. I hired him as an adult babysitter, you hear me? So until you learn to grow up, he will be living with you, spending the days with you, and reporting your activity to me. Do not mess this up, boy.”

Alfred didn’t even get the chance to open his mouth before the tone sounded to indicate that the call had been disconnected. Though it wasn’t like this was something new. His father always had the last word.

He tweeted a quick ‘Just got a bodyguard. How do you like me now?’ before scrolling mindlessly through his feed. Several flirtatious texts and many app switches later, they arrived to his condo where his chauffeur opened the door for him. Not a second later, reporters were sticking recorders and cameras at his face and bombarding him with questions.

“Mr. Jones! What do you have to say about your scandal with Francesca Vargas?”

“Alfred! Did you know Lovino Vargas is openly threatening you because of your relations with his daughter?”

“Mr. Jones! Rumor has it you have connections with the mafia! Is that true?”

“Alf-”

“Make room!” Like Moses reincarnate, a tall and handsome man parted the crowd and gestured for Alfred to get out of the car. His chauffeur was doing very little to keep the reporters at bay but it was enough for him to push through the hoard of flashing lights and chaos of questions. All the while, a pair of protective arms made sure none of them got too close and none of them could lay a hand on him. Once they got to the front doors, the building security handled the rest and blocked them from entering the building. And once in the elevator, Alfred finally felt like he could breathe.

“Alfred Frederick Jones, correct?” the man who had helped him asked in a thick accent. His hands were held at his sides like a stiff.

“Depends on who’s asking.” He quickly checked the man out before putting his key into the slot for his floor and turning it. The doors slid shut as the man straightened out his suit.

“Ivan braginsky. Your new bodyguard. Your father, I presume, told me to look for ‘a rebellious idiot wearing a fur coat in the middle of spring with a streak of disgusting pink hair and a black star pasted on his cheek.’ His words. Not mine.” But the edges of Ivan’s lips drew up in a little smirk that showed that even though he was not the one to come up with the words, he still found it humorous how accurate they had turned out to be.

“Asshole.” Alfred muttered under his breath as he stepped out of the elevator once it stopped on his floor. The place was an absolute pigsty with clothes, food waste, and a general mess everywhere. The boy slipped his coat off and threw it onto the couch to add to the mess and chucked his knee-high boots to the pile as well. “Sorry for the mess. My maid quit like a week ago.”

A week? Ivan looked around the penthouse in horror. Even though it had a modern and sleek look, Alfred’s garbage made it look like a trailer park woman’s hoarding room. “You made this whole mess… in a week…?”

“Impressive, huh? Follow me. You can stay in the guest bedroom.” Alfred walked ahead of the stunned Russian to a room down the hall. The bedroom was simple with a bed, dressers, and a personal bathroom but it still needed some cleaning.

“My dad didn’t tell me he was going to hire a bodyguard and he didn’t tell me you were coming in today either so I didn’t prepare you a room. To be honest with you, this is my fucking room. I bring people in here to fuck so um… don’t get too comfortable…”

Ivan made a disgusted face as he looked over to the messy bed. It was no wonder the blankets were practically on the floor and the sheets looked like they were ripped off of the mattress.

“Is… Is there no other room…?” Ivan didn’t want to sleep in a place that was basically a rentable room in a brothel. It was probably covered in disease and the semen and cum of several different people. Whatever Alfred’s preference in bed partners was.

“Well there is one other room.” Alfred gave him a smirk before looping his arms around the taller man and hanging off his neck. His hips were pressed flush against Ivan’s. “You can sleep in my room, big boy.” Alfred leaned close until his lips almost touched Ivan’s but instead of meeting his lips, his lips met leather.

“No.” Ivan had put a glove in front of his face and used it to gently push Alfred off his body. “Being your sexual partner is above my paygrade.”

“So it’s about money, huh?” Alfred dug into his pocket and took out a clip of hundreds. “How much? You’re not too bad on the eyes. How big are you?”

“Too big for you. And too expensive,” he took a step back, “kid.” rubbing salt to the wound. The rich boy has probably never been rejected before and Ivan was right. The look on his face was enough to tell him so. “What are you? Seventeen?”

“I’m twenty. Geez. If I was younger, my dad would have gotten a nanny, not a bodyguard.” Alfred huffed and turned on his heels, throwing himself onto the bed.

“Is that what I am? Your nanny?” He put his hands on his hips and gave Alfred an amused look.

“Dad said ‘adult babysitter’ so yeah, pretty much.”

“Well in that case,” Ivan walked over to the boy and with the strength of a bear, lifted him off of the bed easily. He tore out the sheets, blankets, and pillow cases then threw them into Alfred’s arms. “Do the laundry. And clean the rest of the house as well. I will not be living in this wasteland.”

Alfred’s eyes blinked rapidly as if he was trying to process what was happening in his mind. “Wha…” Then it looked like it finally hit him. He dropped the dirty pile. “Who do you think you are? You’re the hired help. You’re the one who should be doing the laundry. So you go do it!”

“Ah ah ah. You said I am your adult babysitter. Which means I am your temporary parent. And your father said that if I had any complications with you, I can just give him a call. Wouldn’t want to bother your busy daddy while he’s at work because his little boy wouldn’t do the laundry, hm?” That smug look and his baby-talk voice made Alfred’s blood boil but he knew Ivan’s threat wasn’t a bluff.

“Fine!” Stomping his foot like a child, he picked up the pile of laundry and marched off to the laundry room. It was a small room with all of the cleaning supplies and admittedly, Alfred had never been in this room in his life. He had gotten as far as putting the laundry into the hole and closing the door but after that, he just stood there.

Why were there so many buttons?

He pressed one that looked like a power button and smiled when it beeped and turned on but then he was stuck again. There were so many dials and soaps and-

“You need help?”

Alfred flinched when Ivan appeared behind him with a pile of clothes in his arms. “N-no. Just uh… trying to figure out which setting to wash my clothes with.”

“Alfred, that’s the dryer.”

“I knew that.” He stared at Ivan’s questioning face for only three seconds before throwing his hands up. “Alright fine! They look identical! And I’ve never had to do my own laundry before so I don’t know, okay? Laugh all you want.” He crossed his arms and tried to shrink his head into his body to hide his shame. Never in his life has be been so embarrassed. It was just a simple task like doing the laundry and he had no idea how to do it.

But instead of getting the mockery and insults he’d usually get from his father, he got a pat on the head. “It’s alright.” Ivan moved to put the clothes he had in his arms into the washer then gestured for Alfred to take his laundry out of the dryer. “It’s not your fault that your life has always been luxury. If you never try, you’ll never learn.”

God, why did Ivan look so cool saying that?

Alfred nodded and moved his laundry to the other machine then looked up to Ivan like a patient child.

“Show me what you know.”

Alfred closed the door of the washer then pressed the power button, listening to it beep. Then he turned to the shelf of detergent, bleaches, and softeners and just stared.

“Need help?”

He looked back at Ivan who was leaning against the washer cooly. Seems he was trying to teach Alfred to ask for help instead of expecting it to fall into his lap. “I don’t know which soap to use.” Ivan smiled and pushed himself off the washer, starting his lesson.

(-w-)

The rest of the month went on just like that. Ivan would tell Alfred to do a chore, Alfred would do it until he got stuck or messed up, then Ivan would just stare until he asked for help himself. Already, he’s been getting better at it and Ivan found that Alfred had a strong interest in cooking. “It’s like science!” he had said, his entire face lighting up.

As for his bodyguard duty, most of his job was just to fight off the press and was surprised to find many of them were way too aggressive. It was pretty hard holding back his urge to punch them in the throat when they had their recorders pressed against his cheek and huddled so close to Alfred that it was easy to see that the he was having a hard time breathing. It was like that everywhere. The office, the bar, his house, and even sometimes at the grocery store, now that Alfred didn’t have a maid to do his shopping. But they endured and grew closer.

Honestly, this boy wasn’t all that bad. During dessert with a bit of alcohol mixed in, Alfred had opened up to him. He talked about how his father was never around, his mother had left them, and when she left, she took Alfred’s twin brother and little sister with her but his father had wanted to keep him to be his heir. So he was stuck here. Alone. And the maids didn’t talk to him either or gave him any attention. So he sought the company of others. And even though it was the wrong kind of company, it gave him a few hours of happiness and made him feel less isolated.

“Admittedly, Francesca was a mistake.”

“Francesca Vargas?”

“Yeah. Her. I was at a bar. Buzzed. And I saw her at a table with some dude who looked like he was her boring designated driver or something. She had on a tight red dress and looked really freaking pretty. Like I would get down on my knees and kiss her shoe, kind of pretty.”

“Wait. Aren’t you twenty? How did you get any alcohol?”

“I have a fake and I’m rich, Ivan. Now shut up, I’m telling the story.” When Ivan opened his mouth to tell him how wrong it was, Alfred shoved a spoonful of vanilla bean into his mouth. “Anyways. She was real pretty. And of course I went over to say ‘hi’ and stuff but the dude she was with stopped me and said she didn’t want anyone’s company.”

“Her bodyguard.” Ivan mumbled, licking the ice cream off his lips and returning Alfred’s spoon.

“I guess so. But I was buzzed so I just thought it was her protective brother or something.” A shrug. “I told the dude that if she was old enough to be at a bar, then she was old enough to make her own decisions and it seemed to spark something in her. She knew I was right and screamed until the security dragged the man out. I talked to her, we drank, a lot, and then I called my driver, we sneaked out the back door, fucked in the car, fucked again at my penthouse, and the next morning, she left all scared.”

“Condom?”

“Lack of… yeah… That was three months ago. I didn’t even know her name and I don’t even remember what happened that night until my dad called me and said I knocked up some important dude’s daughter. If I could take it back, I would. It was so stupid.” he sighed, leaning his head back on the couch. “And now the press won’t shut up. They’re making a huuuge deal about it and I just want it to stop already. I just wanna be normal, ya know?”

“I find that surprising. You seem to love your money.”

“Well yeah, cuz I was born with it and I’m used to living this way but sometimes, I go to bed and just lay there. Thinking.”

“Pea under your mattress, princess?”

“I’m serious!”

“Right. Sorry. Go on.”

Alfred huffed and ate another scoop of ice cream to cool himself down before continuing. “The money is just handed to me. Like I don’t even have to do anything to get it. I just gotta be alive and not run away or something. Makes me feel kinda… useless.”

“Can’t relate.” Ivan muttered, which earned him a glare.

“You don’t live my life so you wouldn’t know. I just… hate being so dependent. I have no skills, no talent, and if my dad really did cut me off my allowance, then I’d be lost. I don’t even have a resume. I’ve never worked a day in my life. Without my dad’s money… I’m worthless…”

Ivan sensed that the conversation has taken a bit of a solemn mood, and admittedly, he hated seeing Alfred like this. He was always so brave and proud that seeing him so upset with himself was unsettling.

“That’s not true.” He scooted closer to Alfred then draped an arm over his shoulder. “I think you have a great natural talent in cooking. And you have a strong fascination with science. Especially archaeology. And I know you never said it but I know you like history as well. You also seem to have a strong interest in looking at the little details; you are very good at picking up patterns; and your face lights up when you find out about how things work. And I’ve only known you for a month.”

He looked over at Alfred who seemed like he was near tears. “Did I say something wrong?” he stuttered.

But instead of answering, Alfred put their bowls down and wrapped his arms around Ivan in a tight hug. “That’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me. No one has even cared that much.”

“Well seems like the next thing on my to-do list is to find you some new friends.” Ivan let out a sigh and gave Alfred the hug he probably needed. Alfred was likely touch-starved after Ivan shooed away all his possible suitors and bedmates over the past month. In his defense, Ivan could tell easily that they were the wrong types of people for Alfred. And seeing him with someone else made his hands grow cold.

Wait. Was he jealous?

God, he was.

“Ivan?” Ivan grunted softly in response. “I think I love you.”

Ivan’s eyes widened as he looked down at Alfred. “This is a joke, right?”

“No! I’m serious. I’ve... never felt this way about anyone before. It’s… fuck! This is embarrassing.” Embarrassing enough that he had covered up his face with his hands and looked to the side.

Ivan found the action to be adorable and leaned forward to kiss his wrists. For his actions, he was rewarded with Alfred moving his hands off his face and letting him see the beet red blush that covered his face.

“D-did you just-?”

“I like you too, Alfred.” Love? He wasn’t sure yet. But being with Alfred made him the happiest he’s ever been. And no matter what, that joyous laugh always made his stomach flutter and his heart jump.

“Oh gee, ‘like’? Might as well stab me in the back.” Alfred laughed a little nervously, not knowing if that were Ivan’s rejection or some partially returned feelings, which meant he had a chance.

“I don’t love you just yet, Alfred. Love takes time to grow and I don’t want to jump to things too quickly. But, I do want to be with you. Try this relationship out. If that’s alright with you.”

“Yes!” Alfred shouted a bit too quickly but he was just too eager to be with this man.

“But no sex until you’re twenty-one.”

“Why! That’s torture!”

“Alfred, on my first day here, I said I was too big for you and I was being serious. I might hurt you if you’re not experienced enough so we’re going to have to wait until you’re twenty-one. But toys and other things, I will allow. I just don’t want to hurt you, okay?”

Alfred was pouting but deep down he was grateful that Ivan cared about his pain and safety. So instead of pushing him, he just nodded and draped his arms onto Ivan’s shoulders. “Seal it with a kiss?”

“That I will allow.” Alfred’s joyous giggles made Ivan smile up to his eyes and he even let out a laugh at Alfred’s “preparation for a kiss” breathing and lip exercises.

“Right, okay, okay,” He shook his face like a dog and breathed in and out deeply. “I’m ready. Kiss me!”

It was adorable. Ivan cupped his face gently with his hands, thumb rubbing over the scar on his cheek that Alfred had tried to hide with the black star. He gave that a kiss first, then his jawline, then his chin, and his forehead, until Alfred was audibly whining at Ivan’s deliberate avoidance of his lips. Letting out a soft growl, Alfred took matters into his own hands and quickly pressed his lips against Ivan’s before the torturous teasing could continue any further.

For a few seconds, it was like he had forgotten how to breathe. Kisses with his one-night-stands never felt like this. It was like a comforting warmth was injected into his body and made his skin tingle with an emotion he couldn’t describe.

And before he knew it, they had pulled apart, his lips slightly parted and his face flushed. He blinked his eyes open shyly before finally meeting Ivan’s eyes and finding that a blush dusted his pale cheeks as well.

“Was that good enough seal the deal?” Ivan asked, looking at him with a smirk which Alfred then mirrored.

“No. I think I need another one. You know. Just in case that one wasn’t legally binding.”

Looking at that cheeky face, Ivan had a feeling that he’d break his own contract. There was something about him that made him want to throw caution to the wind. Though, he had a feeling that Alfred would have no trouble with his size.

“Maybe one more.”

(-w-)

The two were a chaotic pair. Now that Alfred had a partner in crime, that turned out to be equally playful, he grew more bold and reckless. Not even a week into their relationship, Alfred screamed “I have a boyfriend! Stop asking about a fling!” at the press after being hounded by questions about Francesca.

After his little slip up, their lives turned to hell. If the paparazzi had been persistent before, they turned absolutely obsessive over him in these passing months. All of the gossip magazines were eager to be the first to find the name of Alfred’s boyfriend and many of them pulled up old photos of Alfred together with other men claiming that this person was his lover. Worse yet, some of Alfred’s flings claimed to be his boyfriend just to be a part of the fame but rumors like that didn’t last long.

“God, another one? I sucked this guy’s dick like once at a gay bar over a year ago. He was a fucking asshole. Held me down and forced me to swallow all of his jizz even though I was trying to tell him I couldn’t breathe.” Alfred threw the magazine down to the floor of his limo and plopped his head down on Ivan’s lap.

To Alfred’s surprise, even after all his dirty secrets were dug up, Ivan never called him a whore. He didn’t lose respect for him and not once did he call Alfred disgusting or ridiculed him about his partners like his father had done not long ago. He didn’t understand why Ivan wanted to be with him but the bodyguard refused to leave.

“He doesn’t deserve your anger, myshka. You’ll get frown lines.” Ivan’s thumb massaged Alfred’s temples as he left a kiss on his nose.

“Myshka? That’s a new one.”

“Little mouse.”

“I’m not a little mouse!”

Alfred had thought the name was embarrassing but still, he was smiling, and that’s all that mattered to Ivan. Oh how he wanted to tell the press that Alfred belonged to him but it was too risky. Alfred’s father would fire him for sure and probably force a restraining order. He couldn’t lose Alfred. Just the thought of it made his heart wrench.

“What are you thinking about?”

Alfred’s voice shattered his bubble of thought. Ivan sighed and leaned down until his forehead was pressed against Alfred’s. “Thinking about how much I love you.” Then he looked into Alfred’s eyes, waiting for a reaction.

Alfred’s eyes grew to the size of saucers and he took in a huge breath. “Oh fuck! That’s- That your first ‘I love you’! You- You finally said it!” Alfred had grown so excited he fell off the car seat but he stayed on his knees in front of Ivan so their eyes would be level. “Say it again!”

Ivan’s face heated up and in an instant, he grew shy. “I can’t just say it randomly! It’s harder than it looks, you know!”

“It’s not! I love you! I love you! I love you! I love you! Come on! I want to hear it!” Like a dog waiting for his treat, Alfred smacked his hands against the seat of the couch and bounced his whole body.

“Alright alright! Quiet down or the driver will hear you through the window.”

He’s too old for gossip anyways and I pay him well enough. Say it!”

Ivan sighed and rubbed the back of his neck before cupping his boyfriend’s face and leaning in close. “I love you.” The way Alfred’s entire face lit up was almost comical but that gorgeous smile was infectious. Even when they kissed, Alfred couldn’t stop his giggles and excited squealing.

But that happiness had to end eventually. The limo slowed to a crawl as they came into the condo driveway and Alfred could already hear the reporters with their questions.

“Hurry up and get to the penthouse so I can suck you.” Alfred’s flirtatious whisper sent a shiver down his spine and he left the limo with newfound vigor.

“Clear the way, please! Mr. Jones will not be answering any questions!” With one hand wrapped around Alfred and the other pushing away cameras, recorders, and hands, Ivan pushed through the crowd. There were so many questions being asked at once that Ivan could barely process any of them. All he heard was something about a new man claiming to be Alfred’s lover, and something about the Vargas girl.

As they reached the entrance, someone, or a group of someones, gave the pair a strong shove, making Alfred flatten himself against Ivan’s chest. He heard a couple reporters complain shout, “Watch where you’re going!” or “How rude!” but it didn’t matter to Ivan. They had made it inside the lobby. Oddly enough, Alfred still clung to him like a lifeline.

“Alright, we’re safe.” But Alfred still clung to him. “Come on. You can hug me when we get to your room. But right now, I need your key so we can go up to your flat.”

Alfred muttered something under his breath but it was inaudible to Ivan.

“What did you say?” Ivan leaned his head lower so his ear would be by his mouth.

Alfred wasn’t muttering. He was gagging. His eyes were wide with fear and body trembling just the slightest.

“Oh my god. What’s wrong, Alfred?” Ivan pried Alfred’s body off of his but the boy fell limp without him. It wasn’t until Alfred was laid down on the floor that Ivan finally noticed.

There was a tear in Alfred’s coat. No, not a tear, a slit. A slit with a wetness surrounding it. He ripped the coat off his body and what he found took the breath out of his lungs.

The back of Alfred’s pure, white shirt was soaked his in blood. And to his dismay, the red was still blossoming, spreading like death’s poison on his lover.

(-w-)

The trip to the hospital was a blur. When the nurses and doctors spoke to him, it felt like he was listening through a thick wall of water. His entire world felt like it was tilted at an angle and he swore all he could hear his own breathing.

It wasn’t until something slammed into his head that he was dragged back into reality.

“This is all your fault!”

His eyes followed up a pair of legs to a body then a head. It was Alfred’s father.

“I hire you to protect him and you can’t even do that? My son is in the ER because of you! If anything happens to him, you can bet your ass I’m going to sue you until your comminist ass is deported back where you belong!”

Ivan couldn’t feel anything. He just felt… numb. Slowly, he get up off the floor and returned to sitting in his seat but something hit him again. When he looked up, Jones Senior was being dragged out by the security while the nurse asked it if was okay. But before he could even respond, the nurse pressed a tissue against his temple.

“Sir, you’re bleeding. Give me a second, I’ll get you some bandages.”

He could feel the blood sliding down his cheek but compared to the pain in his heart, it was nothing. He felt nothing. he wasn’t even sure if he was still breathing.

“Sir? Sir? Are you Mister uh… Ivan Braginsky?”

Ivan looked up at the nurse. A new one. Wait, when had the other nurse bandaged his head? And when had it turned to night time?

“I am.”

“Mister Jones just woke up and he’s asked to see you.”

Ivan rose from his seat and came forward so fast he almost knocked the nurse over. “Please, take me to him.”

On their way to Alfred’s room, he had stuck so close to the nurse’s heels that he almost tripped on her, and though they were walking fast, it felt like the longest walk of his life. But at the end of the road, he saw Alfred.

Seeing him with tubes and other junk sticking out of him as he lay there in his hospital gown made it feel like his heart had fallen out of his chest. He felt like he had floated over to Alfred’s bedside and if it wasn’t for the pain in his knees when he fell on them, he would have forgotten he had legs.

“Alfred. Oh my god, Alfred. You’re okay.” He took Alfred’s hand into his own, wishing the thick clip wasn’t in the way.

“Well I feel dead.” he scuffed, his voice weak. Even in this condition Alfred was joking about it.

“Please don’t say that, Alik. I don’t know what I would do if you…” He couldn’t even bring himself to say it.

“It’s going to take a lot more than a stab in the back to kill me.” Alfred tried to laugh at that but his voice was raspy and the action made him wince in pain.

Ivan moved to sit on the edge of the bed so it would be easier for Alfred to see him. He reached down to move the hair out of his eyes and to give him a tender kiss. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t protect you. I won’t forgive myself for letting you get hurt like this.”

“Baby, it’s okay.” Alfred gave Ivan’s hand a weak squeeze. “I don’t blame you for it. If anyone is to blame, it’s me for causing this whole mess. But no blame games, okay? I’m fine. I’m alive. It’s over.”

“But I almost lost you.” Ivan hadn’t realized he was crying until he saw his own tears drip onto Alfred’s face.

“But you didn’t, okay? Hey, what happened to your head?”

“Don’t change the subject.”

“Talking about it is making it more painful.” he lied, “Now tell me what happened to your head.”

“Your father hit me.” He sniffed and wipes his tears away with his sleeve. “He said he’s going to deport me.”

“Over my dead body.”

“Alfred. Stop joking like that.”

“What? I just beat death. Let me joke about it.” And even when he was stuck in a hospital bed with stitches in his back, Alfred still tried to stay strong.

“You’re lucky I love you.” Ivan’s lip was quivering even as he smiled.

“Yeah. I’m the luckiest person alive.”

#rusame #Magical Strike AU #rusame fanfiction #aph russia #aph america #I have a huge weakness for bodyguard aus #sorry if the ending is abrupt #I went from 6 pages to 13 pages and was screaming the entire ride because I didn't know where to cut it #if there's two different writing styles #it's because i wrote one half before midterms #and the other half at 4am after midterms

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shepherd-of-the-stars · 7 years ago

Text

No Matter What

Hey @the-americanmeme! I was your backup Santa for the @rusame-secret-santa-2017! Your wishes were kinda vague so I was like uuuuuh, Porque no todos lmao. So here a mix of 1. Fluff (can turn to smut) but like fluff and sweet things, 2. Possessive Ivan (any rating), 3. Russia x America, and vague wish: A fantasy au. Based off your amazing wingtalia au and your artwork where Ivan was giving Alfred a little smooch! The artwork is a lil extra for having you wait so long.

A/N: A few of my keys are sticky (mostly r, t, and g) so hopefully I don’t make too many typos!

Word count: 3,096

Summary: Alfred is insecure about his clipped wings and while he tries his best to hide it, he can only do so for so long. But just like every single day since the incident, Ivan has been on his side.

Warnings: smut, mentions of violence, homophobia, tiiiiiny bit of gore(?)

Rating: R

Also available on FFnet and ao3

It’s been a year since Alfred’s clipping incident and while a couple feathers have gown back, his wings remained short stumps. He’s tried joking about it, saying that having no wings meant he didn’t have to spend hours cleaning them, or how he could run faster without all the weight he had to carry, but at the end of the day, it was all just a lie.

His wings were part of his identity, part of who he was, and they were stolen from him, ripped and chopped off his back as he bled on the ground. No matter how hard he tried to get away, they still caught him and beat him until he could only feel the pulsing pain in his limbs. Despite his pride, he had begged for mercy, but it was not given to him.

Whatever had happened during the last days of his capture, he could not remember. All he remembered was opening his swollen eyes and seeing his rival’s tear-stained face, and his voice shaking as he apologized for not being able to come sooner. After that, Ivan had nursed him back to health. Not once did he raise his voice, for it would make Alfred cower and tremble, and every touch was so gentle it felt like a ghost.

In that time, they had grown closer to each other. They developed a relationship that some might call love, not that Alfred would ever say it in public. He loved Ivan, really, but the amount of affection the snowy owl gave him when they were in public was so much that it always left him a flustered mess. He would very much prefer to keep their affections at home but Ivan always had other plans.

“I don’t know why you brought me here.” Alfred crossed his arms as he and his lover walked side by side through the clear fields. Above, he could hear people laughing and playing as they chased each other and enjoyed their day in the beautiful sun.

It was a popular spot for all winged creatures to hang out: a vast open field, a cliff a short walk away, and the shimmering ocean right next to it. Most everyone who could fly were taught to fly right here. It was no wonder Alfred seemed grumpy.

“You’ve been inside the house for too long. Like you are trying to glue yourself to the chair.” Ivan had his wings folded neatly behind his back and his hands at his side. ‘No hand holding!’ Alfred had told him, so he obeyed.

“Well I was doing something, okay! I was reading my book and you just dragged me out here. Can we go back now?” Alfred was a tad uncomfortable. Seeing everyone flying around and spreading their wings out wide reminded him that he had none.

The phantom pain was back again and he felt a dull ache at the base of his wings. They returned every time he was reminded of the incident that caused him to lose them.

Instead of answering him, Ivan gave him a pat on the head and bent down to pick a daisy out of the grass. With a cute smile, he tucked it behind Alfred’s ear and took a step back to admire it. “You look beautiful, love.”

Alfred pouted and let Ivan enjoy it for a second more before he shook his head like a wet dog, messing up his hair again and making the flower fall to the ground. “Don’t treat me like a girl.”

“Showing affection for the love of my life does not mean I am treating you like a girl.” Ivan took hold of Alfred’s hand and gave him a gentle kiss on the knuckles only to have Alfred rip his hand away right after.

“Ivan!” he hissed, “Not in public! It’s embarrassing. I have my pride, you know.” His cheeks were already tinted a bit pink from the gesture and to hide it, he kept walking forward.

Too many times this has been brushed off and frankly, it was beginning to hurt Ivan. With a couple flaps, he was able to fly up and over Alfred, landing right in his path with his arms crossed. “We need to talk.”

“About what?”

“Our relationship.”

“Can it wait? We’re in public.”

“That’s what I want to talk about.” Ivan reached forward to take Alfred’s hand but he had pulled it away, looking around at all the people in the park. “Are you ashamed of me?”

Alfred’s eyes widened as he looked his boyfriend up and down to see if he was serious. “No! Of course not. I just- There’s so many people here and you never know how some people will react, you know? And it’s bad enough that I’m the only one in the whole flock without wings, I don’t want everyone to know that…” He wouldn’t meet Ivan’s eyes, rubbing his elbow nervously.

“You’re insecure.” Ivan watched Alfred until he saw the tiniest nod. “Alfred, if I could, I would go back in time and kill those hunters before they even got the chance to lay eyes on you. But what’s happened has already happened. No one can change that. You have to learn to accept it and live with it, as harsh as it sounds.”

“I have!”

“You haven’t. You are only hiding it. I don’t care about your wings, I still love you for you. And many others feel the same way. Those who don’t aren’t important enough for you to care about. You’re the most perfect person I could ever encounter and to be able to hold you in my arms is the best gift anyone has ever given me.” He reached for Alfred’s hands again and this time, Alfred let him take it. “Alfred, I love you. All that time I spent fighting with you in the past, I wish I could take it back, for it was due to my confusion over my feelings. You had such passion, a burning flame, and I wanted it to burn for me, but I didn’t know that it was love, not loathing.

“I would do anything to prove my love for you. I would fly up into the sky and rob the stars from the heavens, so you would feel closer to them. I would sacrifice years of my lifespan to yours, so you could be alive and well for much longer. I would dump every gem into the ocean, so they do not shine brighter than your eyes. Anything, Alfred. I would even seek the hunters and have my wings ripped off as well to suffer your pain so I could better understand it and be able to aid you.”

“No!” Alfred cut him off. He made Ivan let go of his hands so he could warp his arms around Ivan’s torso. “Don’t say that… And don’t you dare do that either! You don’t deserve to go through that pain. No one does. It was my fault. I made them mad and I had to suffer the consequences so I’m the only one who deserves that.”

“Alfred, those hunters were worse than demons. They were spiteful, petty, and easily angered, and you didn’t deserve any of that pain. You deserve all that is good in the world and I will do whatever I can to help you obtain it. I know it will be hard to forget those men, but you cannot let them haunt you. They are gone now. And I am here. I will protect you. And I would give me life for you.”

Gentle hands combed through blond hair and moved down until they rested on Alfred’s shoulders, then he leaned forward and placed a chaste kiss on his jaw, his forehead, his nose, his cheeks, and finally, his lips. With each kiss, Alfred’s frown edged up into a smile, and in that moment, he felt like the two of them were enclosed in their own little world where no one could judge them.

“Hey, mollies!” Alfred flinched when the aggressive voice pulled him back to reality. “If you’re lookin’ for a place to fuck, there are some rocks over there!” The intruder laughed as he pointed his finger over at the jagged rocks by the cliff.

It was the goose brothers. Thieves, bullies, and always eager to pick a fight with anyone and everyone. They were the outcasts in the flock and as retaliation, they took their anger out by harassing the others.

“Leave now or you will regret it.” Ivan said in a calm and eerily cheerful voice. His arms tightened around Alfred’s body while Alfred looked the other way. This was why he didn’t want to be affectionate with Ivan in public and he could already feel a lump forming in his throat.

“Don’t think so.” The eldest goose brother took a step forward, chest puffed and wings ruffled. “This is the flight park so you and your flightless boy toy should be the ones going home. You don’t belong here, and I bet the only reason he is still here is ‘cuz he sucked off the leaders of the flock as a favor so he co-“

The goose never got to finish his sentence. Ivan’s hand had shot forward and gripped his neck so hard he was struggling to breathe while his other hand kept his hold on Alfred’s head. “Go on. Love to hear what you have to say.”

The idiot goose didn’t back down, his hands prying Ivan’s hand apart just enough so he could speak. “You and your bitch are tainting the park. Better get out before I pluck the rest of his feathers.”

Ivan’s composure finally cracked, his talons sprouting out of his fingers and slashing the goose across the shoulder so fast he didn’t get a chance to stop him. “I will rip you apart limb from li-“

“Ivan stop!” Alfred stared wide-eyed at Ivan’s hand as blood and a small chunk of flesh dripped off talons sharp enough to kill. “You said it yourself. These people don’t matter. If you kill them, you’ll be banished. I don’t want to lose you.” Alfred’s wavering voice kept at a whisper as if the brothers didn’t deserve to hear what he said.

Seeing his lover’s tear stained face, Ivan wiped the blood off on the goose’s tunic and slowly retracted his hand.

“Cryba- ugh!“ He was quickly shut up when the joint of Ivan’s wing slammed into his neck and knocked him to the ground.

Ivan ruffled his wings and wrapped them around Alfred protectively as if he had done nothing wrong. “We’ll ‘talk’ later.” The look in his eyes made it a promise, and finally, knowing they wouldn’t win this fight, the brothers fled.

(-w-)

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay… You were just defending me and those idiots deserved it. It’s just,” Alfred sat down on the bed in their shared home and patted the spot next to him so Ivan could join him. “I saw the blood and it reminded me of…” he gnawed at his lip.

“I know.” Ivan sat down in the bed with him, pulling him into his lap. “And that’s my fault. I should have controlled myself better. They just… They made me so angry…”

“If I was in your position, there’d be three dead geese.” Alfred forced out a chuckle, making Ivan crack a smile. A moment of silence later, the two shared a long, slow kiss while Alfred moved to straddle him. “Can I make a confession?”

Ivan’s eyes flickered up and down Alfred’s body to try and read his mood then shrugged. It didn’t seem like he was in an upset mood, and he was a bit curious.

“I actually kinda liked it. You defending me, that is.” he clarified when he say Ivan’s confused face. “Showed you actually cared about me enough to protect me even if it was three against two.”

“I would have done the same if there were a hundred more of them.” Ivan’s hand stroked up and down Alfred’s back, drawing the other closer to his body. He liked it better when they were in the privacy of their own home. Here, Alfred didn’t hide his affections, and he didn’t push Ivan’s away.

“I would fight along with you.” Alfred’s hands rubbed Ivan’s broad shoulders before reaching behind him to stroke his soft, gray feathers.

“Well,” Alfred let out a squeak when Ivan flipped him onto his back, the larger body loomed over him and caged him in, “don’t you think I should get a reward, then?”

Alfred laughed at his cheesiness then gave him a flirty look. “If you want it, you’ll have to take it.” And Alfred knew that any time he wanted to stop, he could just say so and Ivan would listen. Though right now, he had no plans to.

A soft gasp left his lips when Ivan rolled his hips forward, their tunics doing very little to contain the heat. Very quickly, heated kisses were trailing his neck and the bottom of his tunic being lifted so Ivan could tug his underwear off his hips.

“You get more lube?” Ivan asked between kisses.

“Yea- ahh…” Alfred’s legs twitched when Ivan grabbed hold of his cock and gave it a firm stroke. His hand blindly groped at the nightstand, digging into the drawer. “But next time, you get it. It’s a pain in the ass trying to sneak it.”

“And you will have a pain in the ass if you don’t get this lube- geh!“ Ivan pouted when he was given a light smack on the head for his joke. “Alright fine, I’ll get it next time.” He rubbed the spot where Alfred had bopped him before taking the glass vial that Alfred finally found.

“No more talking.” He sat up for a second to quickly throw off his tunic, laying bare in front of Ivan. “Come on, please.” He wrapped his arms around Ivan’s neck and pulled him down, legs spread. “Hurry up or I’ll do it myself.”

And how could Ivan say no?

(-w-)

“Oh fuck…” Alfred let out a groan as he clung to his lover’s back. No matter how many times they’ve done this, Ivan always seemed to stretch him so much it stung. But Ivan always waited for Alfred’s word before he started moving. “G…go…”

His breath hitched as he felt it pull out to the head before slowly slipping back into him. Eyes lidded and rolling back, he moaned and tried to keep his breathing even as Ivan started his steady pace. He could feel the thick length stroking his walls and his skin tugging and pushing from his movements. His legs wrapped around Ivan’s hips and pulled him closer to his body, using it as leverage to meet him at every thrust.

The pace proved too slow for the needy blond and it wasn’t long before he whimpered for “more,” and Ivan was happy to give him just that. With a hand firmly hooked on his shoulder, Ivan quickened his pace. His hips slapped against Alfred’s rounded ass and jiggled each time he hit it. It was something he’d never tire of seeing.

“You look beautiful.” he breathed, watching his lover writhe and moan under him. The pretty eagle’s body rocked with every forward motion and he could barely keep his eyes open from the overwhelming pleasure.

Ivan’s compliment barely made it to Alfred’s ears as the sounds of their love-making drowned it out. Alfred’s face and shoulders flushed red and he quickly shoved his wrist in his mouth to quiet himself and save himself from the shame. He let Alfred have his few seconds of hiding before leaning down to give the wrist a kiss and removing it from his mouth. “Let me hear you.”

Alfred was hesitant at first but when Ivan hit that spot in him, he threw his had back and let out a throaty moan. He hissed though gritted teeth, still trying to contain his embarrassing noises but Ivan gripped his hips and thrust himself into him over and over until he finally drew out those beautiful sounds.

With his mouth hanging open, Alfred moaned out Ivan’s name and a string of curses with his hands fisting the sheets so tight they were close to ripping between his nails. Never once did he think about asking him to stop, only looking at Ivan with lust glazed eyes and silently begging him to fuck him harder, faster, and don’t even think about stopping.

“I-Ivan!” Alfred’s hand shot out to take hold of Ivan’s wrist, trying to move it towards the stiff and leaking erection between their bodies. “Oh god, I’m close.” he whimpered in his ear, his breathing becoming more rapid and sharp.

He had only stroked Alfred a couple times before his entire body stiffened and his breathing caught in his throat. Alfred felt a warmth on his belly as he spurts out his load and slowly, his body began to fall limp. But Ivan wasn’t done just yet. He slowly thrust himself in the trembling and twitching body before finally filling the tightened caverns with his seed.

They stayed still for some time, slowly catching their breaths and letting their tired hands explore each other’s heated bodies. As Ivan pulled out, he was met with some resistance. Alfred’s walls clung to him and he let out a shaky gasp when the thick length was slowly pulled out and he was left empty. He reached a hand down and pressed his fingers against his slickened hole then gave a flirty look to Ivan.

“Surprised I’m not gaping, baby.”

“I’m not that big.” Ivan said with a snort, grabbing a cloth from the drawer to clean them up. He wiped off every trace of cum and lube until they both were clean before laying down beside Alfred. He had one of his wings covering Alfred like a blanket while the other was draped off the side of the bed.

“Hey, Ivan?” Alfred peeped after a long time of comfortable silence

“Hmm?”

“I love you.”

Ivan opened his eyes and glanced down to meet his lover’s sparkling blues. It was like he could see the sky in them without ever having to step foot out of their home and Ivan knew that he would give everything to be with Alfred. Even his wings. Who needed flight when looking into Alfred’s face made his heart soar much higher than anyone could ever go?

“I love you too, Alfred.”

#rusame #rusame fanfiction #wingtalia #aph russia #aph america #nsfw #woooo -slaps knee-#i haven't written smut in so long #hope this is at least decent #this is actually a second choice #i had another thing halfway written and decided to scrap it because i didn't like where it was going

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