#aph Fanfiction

[ask-nyc-boroughs]

😈😈 I’m cooking up some comics. Anyways “To Prevent Consequence” is the title for my American Revolution arc in Nor’easter verse. The first of these I made back in April to help introduce major characters in this arc in a fun way. I will note that these “cheat sheets” are an oversimplification of positions at the beginning of the American Revolution. I’ll keep this as a navigational post, and I’ll try to update it as each comic page comes out. Also links to all my comics can be found here & you can follow the tags #tpc comic for updates on the comic.

Denise/Quebec & Thomas/ Nova Scotia belongs to my friend ekuos.art on Instagram.

Also feel free to ask questions!

For reference, these are the chapters that I have mostly completed as of August 2024:

The End: Most of the 13 colonies see no other option, but to agree with their people and declare independence from Arthur thus putting their lives on the line. However some colonies remain on the fence. Furthermore, the colonies can’t seem to agree upon one of their own to lead them, or really have as a figurehead. In general the colonies can’t seem to even decide if they want to be independent together, or strike it out on their own. Henry (Massachusetts), a fierce advocate of independence, and an advocate of remaining together proposes that his cousin Alfred Jones, who was once Plymouth colony (yet his exact role in the present is unclear), be their figurehead while they unite together. However Henry & Alfred face great opposition from their peers.

The Ashes: Following the Battle of Long Island, Jennie Van Slyke (New York State) wakes up in Albany, hurt and disoriented. There she finds her longtime rival and now ally in independence, Henry with her.

lol I realize the font is small in case you needed a close up here it is.

Other notes:

You may be familiar with the Haudenosaunee as the Iroquois Confederacy, some suspect the name Iroquois comes from an insult and was later adapted by colonists. I put their names in their respective languages so Mr. Seneca (O-non-Dowa-Gah), Mr. Mohawk (Kaniek’kehá:ka), Mr. Onondaga (Onoñda’gegá”), Cayuga (Gayoghó:no’), Oneida (Onyota’a:ka), & Ms. Tuscarora (Skarùr:re).

Mr. Cherokee = Mr. Anigiduwagi

Mr. Mohican = Mr. Muhhekunneuw. Also Lynn/ NYC’s biological father

I focus mostly on settler colonial histories. I try my best to research and understand indigenous histories, but as this is a piece of fiction and I’m not a historian - I will be prone to error in my work. If you notice something egregious in this regard & have sources to lead me to, do let me know via private message.

[aphfanficwriters]

Still writing Hetalia fanfiction in the year of our lord 2024? Want to make fandom friends or just find that extra push to keep writing?

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[lithugraph]

1869. After a failed part in a failed rebellion, Lithuanian noble Tauras Laurinaitis flees his homeland rather than risk being sent to Siberia. Guilt-ridden, he is determined to keep the memory of his country alive the only way he can: printing and smuggling books in a language now outlawed by the Russian Empire. But what happens when he catches the eye of a certain Prussian gendarme? Will Tauras be able to keep his smuggling, and his past, a secret?

Fandom: Hetalia

Characters: APH Lithuania, APH Prussia, APH Estonia, APH Latvia, APH Russia, APH Poland, APH Netherlands, APH Denmark, APH Germany

Pairings: PruLiet with some past LietPol

[paikothecateater]

fluffy ass anko family sunday evening where they exist in peace and comfortable silence is my everything

Alright, well I'll try to add to this.

It's 7pm on a casual Sunday evening, Iceland is laying across the living room sofa having a quiet conversation with Mr. Puffin who was snuggled up on his chest. Norway had been perched up on the window seat for about an hour now, reading and occasionally throwing withering glares at the aforementioned puffin. Denmark had been stuck at the dining table with countless boring looking papers sprawled out in front of him. He had spent most of his day hunched over these damn papers. His vision had begun getting all fuzzy as a result of the reading glasses he'd had on all day. He'd occasionally cast glances at the other two, the sight of Iceland talking to his puffin like a child giving him enough positive reinforcement to keep going. He turns to look at them once again, but is met with the sight of Iceland almost exactly next to him, Mr. Puffin cradled in his arms. Denmark removes the annoying glasses to properly look at him managing a small smile.

Iceland wordlessly takes a seat right next to Denmark who almost immediately absentmindedly wraps an arm around him.

"you need something, Ice?"

"you've been sitting here for a really long time."

"yep, miss me already?"

Iceland rolls his eyes, but he doesn't manage to fight off a smile. Denmark pulled him in gently and kissed his forehead.

"I just wanted to know if you were almost done."

Denmark rubbed his eyes with a huge groan.

"not even close."

He puts the glasses down on one of the piles of papers and gets up.

"I'm not going to get anything done at this rate."

He pulls Iceland out of his seat and leads him over to the living room. Denmark all but throws himself on the sofa with a sigh. Iceland took a seat on the floor by the sofa. Norway sat up in the window seat in a pose that could only be described as cat-like.

Denmark rubs his temples to try to get rid of the pounding headache he'd gotten from both the glasses and the stress he'd accumulated over the course of the whole day.

Iceland reached over to sympathetically brush Denmark's hair back.

With a sigh, Norway finally got down from the window seat and headed to the kitchen. He grabbed Denmark a glass of water and a cold pack for the headache as well as a bottle of painkillers. He walked over to Denmark and handed him the water and medicine while strapping the cold pack onto his head. Much like Iceland, Norway also wasn't a fan of seeing his older brother so tired.

Both he and Iceland managed to climb up next to Denmark and snuggle up to him. Despite it only being 8:30pm, the three found themselves drifting off, the comfort of having two of his favourite people in the world all snuggled up in his arms almost completely eradicated any stress or anxiety he felt about needing to finish the paperwork. Mr. Puffin seemed to be the only one left awake and he was more than happy being cradled by Iceland for a whole night, so he wasn't going to be the one to wake him or the others. Even Norway's presence couldn't bother him right now and vise-versa Norway had even begrudgingly reached over to pet him.

Of course the three would be in complete agony the next day given the awkward position their bodies had been in the whole night, but that couldn't possibly matter right now.

All that mattered was that despite everything, they were together, they were safe and nothing could force them apart at this moment.

[aph-america]

Inevitable Temptation: Chapter 2- A Step Closer

After years of bullying due to a disorder that leaves him infertile, Ivan swears to never marry an Alpha. But living in a society that leaves him with few freedoms, his father marries him off. His Alpha fiancé, Alfred F. Jones, is a charming fellow who seems to not have a reason to marry an omega like Ivan- or does he?

Knock Knock

“Hey! Ivan. Gotta surprise for you, meet me in the backyard.”

Ivan’s ears perked up to the statement. A whiff of sage hit his nose, stronger than yesterday. He shook his head to ignore it before he pondered. Still in his sleepwear, he changed into a simple pair of jeans and a turtleneck. Heading down the stairs of his new ‘home’, he went to the backdoor, leading him to the yard.

Looking ahead, he spotted a shirtless Alfred with a shovel, next to several rows of potted flowers. He pulled his scarf over his face as he came closer, entranced by the flowers.

“You like ‘em? I got them rushed over once you told me what you wanted yesterday. Was hoping that we could plant them today.” He flashed his bright smile.

Ivan blinked and grinned, overjoyed by the gift. Nevertheless, he didn’t want to appear too happy for the Alpha, so he held back his delight. Taking a deep breath, he stood up straight and looked around the yard. He pointed to an area that had plenty of sun. “I think a garden there would look nice, yes?” He told more so than asked.

Alfred nodded, an enthusiastic smile on his face. He pushed up his black sunglasses and started digging up the grass, without pause. Ivan kneeled next to the rows of flowers, inspecting their color and quality. Gentle fingers stroked the delicate petals. Ivan’s eyes traveled back to Alfred, watching him dig out the dirt. His gaze unable to pull away, he couldn’t help but take notice of his body. A built alpha, nothing new or surprising. However, the omega found himself watching the sweat drip down his chest and between his muscles. Almost in a daze, he snapped out of it by Alfred’s voice.

“I’m really glad ya’ like 'em!” He shouted in a happy tone, a proud grin on his face. He hadn’t noticed Ivan staring at him since he’d been hard at work pulling out grass for his crush's garden.

Ivan flinched, taking himself out of his daze. The hot sun covered up the flush that went to his cheeks. “Yes…Thank you…” He politely responded, attempting to not sound too impressed. His eyes flickered back to Alfred again. “I’m surprised an alpha like yourself is out here doing hard labor…I’d assume you would hire someone…”

Alfred snorted at the assumption. “What? You think ‘cause I got money I can’t get my hands dirty? I’m a country boy at heart. Pop’s always said an alpha who can’t handle shovels and some tools is an embarrassment…” He returned to digging.

"So you weren't spoiled as a child?" Ivan teased, prying to know more about Alfred's life.

"Nah. I'm what they call 'new money' is all. The cash didn't start rolling in until I was in high school. I wasn't raised to be a prissy alpha, who doesn't even know the basics of mounting." He snickered, wiping the sweat forming on his forehead.

“Prissy is not a trait I would associate with you.” Ivan replied, nodding. To Alfred’s defense, he appeared to not be completely helpless in terms of work, inside and outside the house. He had cooked for Ivan several times already. A kindness the omega had returned by making Alfred breakfast this morning.

Alfred boasted, offering a thumbs up, “Good! The traits I want you to associate with me are strong, handsome, an’ charming!”

Ivan could only roll his eyes. “More so, arrogant is a better word…”

Alfred pouted, bending down to clear out more grass. “You really think I’m arrogant? It’s something I’ve tried to work on about myself…” He confessed. Not feeling the need to hide his past with Ivan, he desired an emotional closeness that could only be achieved if he opened up as well.

Ivan could hear the sincerity in the alpha’s voice, a twinge of guilt settling in his mind. He didn’t like that this alpha had the ability to trigger such emotions. “... Maybe arrogant is a strong word. You are very confident, proud…Perhaps such confidence is a foreign concept to me.” Reeling back the criticism, Ivan glanced to the side.

Read Rest On Ao3

[artist-kili]

Sounding good?

[another-mexico-oc]

Hola, ¿qué tal? Hace tiempo que no nos vemos 😅 Además de estar enfocada en mi trabajo y mis proyectos personales, últimamente he practicado mi escritura, y es por eso que inicie el año con una historia sencilla y corta, así como lo hice el año pasado con "Ahora toca a mí salvarte".

Así que están cordialmente invitados a echarle un vistazo al primer capítulo, y dejarle un like, un comentario, o una crítica constructiva :)

SINOPSIS DEL FANFIC: Gakuen Hetalia AU. El Club Fiesta es uno de los clubs escolares más curiosos de la World Academy W, y para poder entrar hay una sola regla: Solo se permiten latinos. ¿Podrá cierto estadounidense infiltrarse a alguna de sus reuniones para saciar su curiosidad?, ¿y a qué otros países terminará involucrando?

ENLACES:

⭐️ Archive of Our Own (AO3)

⭐️ Fanfiction.net

[appleandsnow]

Ghosts

"Do you ever think we're ghostlike?"

"Ghostlike?" Arthur says as he lights his cigarette.

They sit together at one of England's many beaches when Afonso brings it up.

"Like flying mint bunny.."

"Leave him out of this"

Afonso laughs.

How Arthur like! To get protective over something so harmless!

He'd never admit to it but he can see Arthur being an overbearing parent. He understands Alfred but he'd also seen just how heartbroken Arthur had been to see one of his youngest rebel..

"But- do you?"

"I have no idea"

They sit in silence before Afonso breaks it.

"I just don't think anyone ever knows us as we are - in whole. We're ghosts. Shadowy and present.. but not really present? Does that make sense?"

"We have plenty influence"

"Not half as personal as them"

It takes him a minute - a few, actually.

Arthur won't ever admit to this but he is often painfully aware of just how tenuous everything is.

Even him and Afonso.

"Don't think we're all the worse off for it though"

"That we are not"

[vehwill]

Hi everyone! I finally decided to share my AU Vampire 2P RusIta fanfiction. ❗Warnings❗ Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage Other ships in this fanfiction: America/England, England/France, Canada/France, North Italy/Spain, Germany/North Italy, Hungary/Female Prussia, Germany/Female Prussia My very good translator Niroki is about to finish translating chapter 9, but at the moment I have published 36 and written almost 40 in Italian, lol, sorry, it's a novel. Stop me. It's turning out to be a substantial work, I hope you enjoy it if you decide to take a look <3 Additional Tags: 2P Hetalia, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Human/Vampire Relationship, Rape, Drug Use, Torture, Blood and Gore, Violence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Soul Bond, Spirit Animals, Mating Bites, Anal Sex, Oral Sex, Explicit Language, Mental Instability, Psychological Trauma, Kidnapping, Explicit Sexual Content, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD Summary:

In the gloomy town of Batwick, North Dakota, life proceeds between some fights and drug trafficking. Luciano Vargas, a 23-year-old italian orphan, gets on as well as he can, doing the drug dealer for the inflexible boss Andrés Fernández Carriedo. One evening, after a coup gone wrong against a trio, Luciano accidentally meets a mysterious villa and its terrifying owner. Viktor Braginsky is not a normal human being: he is always accompanied by a crow and his teeth are strangely long, sharp. The two are entwined by a fate of blood, lust and death, but the trio of crazy plots revenge against the Italian. The German Lutz, however, is not at all happy to see the boy he loves taken away by a creature that risks killing him every time he's close. Luciano and Viktor can't resist in any way the call between the Upyr, the ancient russian vampire, and his Zhicayn', his chosen prey.

[anglophile-alfred]

After being absent for four years, I finally wrote the next chapter for my UKUS fanfiction "Seize Him!"

[aphscandihoovians]

It’s finished! It’s finished! Calling all Nordics fan, my fic Once a Family is finally finished! It’s been years in the making, but Denmark’s chapter is complete and ready to read! Check it out here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25095601/chapters/60793609

[aphfanficwriters]

Monthly Members' Fics — Jul 2024

Life for a Life by dysphoriahighschool (America/Canada) Matthew travels to Scarlet Hollow, North Carolina for his aunt's funeral and to comfort the cousin he'd never met. Matthew's mom had left the town years ago and hated the place as much as she missed it. As he gets closer to uncovering the town's secrets, Matthew thinks he's understanding why, but a deal with a ghost might end up putting a stop to his investigation.

The Next Me by Anonymous (Germany & Prussia) This is important, listen, listen now—I don't care about how late it is.

Witch of the Wood by Skoati (Ketzexi) (nyo!America/England) Amelia gets accused of witchcraft.

Don't think twice it's alright by Mossy_man (America/Canada/Russia) Meet your nemesis and fuck? Sounds like good idea.

Take me in your mind, love by Mossy_man (Russia/Turkey) Ivan follows a beautiful stranger home.

Making Up for Lost Time by Delgumo (nyo!America/Canada) After being separated as small children, Matthew and Amelia reconnect.

Breaking the Dragon Head — Chapter 4 by NashTea (Fishandnear) (China/Russia) Set against the backdrop of illegal and deprave scientific advancement, where debauchery runs rampant; Ivan Braginsky, inner circle member of a secret criminal organisation dubbed as "World Meeting" have finally made his move onto the founder, Wang Yao. Ivan seeks to crack apart everything Wang Yao strive to hide and destroy in his past, haunting him as the ghost he have forgotten. Disgruntled associates forcibly recruited under Ivan's team have started stirring too, waiting for just the right time to bring Ivan down. Mafia AU - Rochu

fly a diamond night by Tentaculiferous (France/Liechtenstein, Liechtenstein/Switzerland, one-sided France/Switzerland) In the Kingdom of Diamonds, everyone's role, whether a lowly two or the highest King, is set in stone by fate immutable. So is one's innate nature as a submissive, dominant, or switch. Basch, with his prickly personality and dislike of following others' orders, is a poor choice for a sub. The fates must have been drunk when they assigned his nature. But when his hoarder tendencies get to be too much, his submissive nature may prove useful for once.

And the crown tumbles down by Tentaculiferous (America/England) Political power lost, shackled to an obnoxious and despicable king, Arthur spirals a bit. But a mind can be a terribly fun thing to lose.

Up there came a flower by Tentaculiferous (America/England, Canada/England) One of a Queen's most sacred duties is to provide their kingdom with little princes and princesses. But Arthur has passed year after year without managing to conceive a child. He's sick of the gossip and snickers and sneers, and of his flat belly. He's had enough: his barren years are ending now. If King Alfred can't provide an heir, maybe his brother can.

[lithugraph]

1869. After a failed part in a failed rebellion, Lithuanian noble Tauras Laurinaitis flees his homeland rather than risk being sent to Siberia. Guilt-ridden, he is determined to keep the memory of his country alive the only way he can: printing and smuggling books in a language now outlawed by the Russian Empire. But what happens when he catches the eye of a certain Prussian gendarme? Will Tauras be able to keep his smuggling, and his past, a secret?

Fandom: Hetalia

Characters: APH Lithuania, APH Prussia, APH Estonia, APH Latvia, APH Russia, APH Poland, APH Netherlands, APH Denmark, APH Germany

Pairings: PruLiet with some past LietPol

[paikothecateater]

Alright, Danish Slaughterhouse rant.

So I first read this fic a while back. It was recommended to me by a friend. Now, they'd recommended me pretty weird stuff before (Iceland X fridge crack ship stuff) so I was a little bit skeptical when I started reading it. I wasn't super into the hetalia fandom at the time, so I had never seen anyone talking about this fic before.

Now I could rant about how fucking disgusting this story is, but that's already been done. This writer has managed to write a story so bad that people looked over some pretty major stuff.

Like how the writing is a fucking crime against humanity.

First I'd just like to say that I mean no hate towards the person who wrote this fic. It was a long time ago and I doubt they still stand by it. I'm sure they cringe at the thought of having been the one to write it. I will not be mentioning their name as 1) I don't even know it and 2) I don't want anyone harassing them.

It's pretty rare to become infamous in your fandom. Especially writing fan fics. The creator of Gutters, Glassmilk (I believe that's their name) made a fic that was so genuinely good and heartbreaking that they became famous among the fandom. The creator of the Danish slaughterhouse however, because famous in the fandom for making a fic that was genuinely so appalling people couldn't help talking about it.

I'll be using the names they gave the characters to make things easier.

I'll go ahead and bring up what is in my opinion a huge literary crime.

The lack of descriptivism.

I'd like to mention that I've written novels before. I've just been unable to publish them due to the lack of resources. It's hard publishing an English novel in an Arabic nation. Regardless, I think I know a thing or two about this whole process.

Descriptivism is something that I personally think is very important for a good story. This story left so much to be desired. All I could imagine for Mathias' house? Flat, solid colours, generic furniture, unclear structure. It had absolutely no character. You could have given it a design that would have reflected his personality and made it easier to understand the layout with just a few sentences. I know describing a layout is tough because it's a little tricky to stay consistent and it gets a bit repetitive in writing, but an attempt could have at least been made.

When we reach the second half of the fic, it becomes very hard to get invested in the suspense of what's happening because the layout is so confusing. Whenever a hiding place is mentioned, it's crucial that the layout is clear because if it isn't then the following questions will always distract from the anxiety: where is this hiding place in the house? Where is it in reference to the place Mathias is at? How escapable is it?

It genuinely gets too distracting.

Next there is character development.

I don't even have to be the one to say that the portrayal of Mathias' character is extremely butchered. Let's not even mention the weak ass motive for all this, but it is so genuinely weird how shit seems to go from zero to one hundred with this shit. More on that in a second.

The characters are genuinely some of the most one dimensional characters I think I've ever seen. Like seriously? How am I as a reader supposed to route for a wooden plank?

Emil is just 'emo teenager with headphones'

Lukas? 'barely mentioned overprotective brother'

Berwald is pretty much the same with 'overprotective father'

Tino 'every single mom in a survival movie'

And of course Mr. Mathias 'kill kill stab stab because pain and misery is fun?'

See? Incredibly one dimensional. At this point, you might as well route for Mathias to get this bullshit done quicker. None of them have genuinely lovable moments.

Peter is a whole other issue, because if you're a decent human being, you're going to be concerned for the child, but it doesn't change the fact that for the first half, he's also incredibly one dimensional.

Then is another huge issue, the red flags.

We all know what eventually happens between Mathias and Peter. The way this is portrayed is so fucking awful.

You're telling me Peter was found injured in a locked office and no one questioned it? Either Tino and Berwald are awful fucking parents or they're incredibly stupid. Lock picking? The absolute fuck? That doesn't even make a little sense. If it was my child I'd be freaking out. I'd immediately nope the fuck out of there because clearly this is not a safe place for my child. All they do is lightly chastise this poor child and move on?

I've never personally been a fan of Nordic ships because I see their relationship as platonic. I also have other reasons for genuinely disliking these ships, but I won't get into that.

That being said, The Peter situation was not the only or first red flag. Mathias is shown very early on to be very disrespectful of Lukas' boundaries and actually assaulted him. It was just brushed over as relationship drama. What even the fuck?

Then there's the situation with Emil. Arguably the worst one ever.

I hate to say it, but the portrayal of both Peter and Emil post the traumatic situation was actually pretty consistent with someone who has actually been through something like this. With Peter, the mannerisms of a victimised child are all present. Which further reinforces the fact that Tino and Berwald are absolutely brainless and I'll get into that in a second.

With Emil there's the conflicting feelings that come with being victimised by someone you genuinely trusted. The initial panic followed by the Internal conflict. When someone is attacked by someone they trust, there's a very common sense of confusion that follows. I'll try my best to explain it as well as I can.

Realistically, he'll have panicked, screamed, cursed, etcetera during the attack, however, afterwards, in a non-adrenalin induced state, his brain would begin to flood with so many things. There's the anger, hurt, sadness about being attacked. There's the devastating fear that this person who he'd trusted his entire life and relied on is now completely severed from his life. The fear that it'll happen again. And the overwhelming anxiety about having to deal with the situation.

I'll try to make a light comparison here.

Imagine you're in school and have to give a speech for whatever reason. You're in the middle of it, when someone suddenly walks up to you, slaps you across the face and insults you in front of the whole audience. Obviously, everyone saw, no one is blaming you, realistically, no matter what you say, everyone is on your side.

However, the pressure to respond to the situation is overwhelming. You have to address it because it happened and everyone knows it happened. You may still be very emotional about it and it may be too sensitive to talk about immediately, or you're just so confused about how to properly respond. Do you get angry? Do you play the saint and pretend it didn't affect you? Do you pretend it never happened? Regardless, you have to respond because everyone wants to know how it affected you, what happened? Why it happened?, etcetera.

This is exactly the situation Emil is in. So what does Lukas do as a good big brother?

He gently and patiently waits for Emil to open up to him while letting him know that he's safe and that he will be believed no matter what-

I'm just kidding, he violently pushes Emil for a response in a way that could only further traumatise him. He makes him feel like his emotional response isn't valid and that he somehow did something wrong instead of waiting until he's ready to talk or even take matters into his own hands and confront Mathias.

It is fucking horrible.

Then when their fight gets louder and the other three get involved (Berwald, Tino and Peter) and Peter finally confesses to having been hurt Tino puts on this whole caring act like 'oh remember how we taught you about this stuff?'

Bitch, what?

So this is a conversation that has happened before. And you still couldn't recognise the signs that something changed in Peter's behaviour? You teach the child about how to recognise when he's being victimised without teaching yourself how to recognise when your child is being victimised?

What the actual fuck?

I'd like to say that during this scene, Lukas feels guilty for the way he approached the situation which, yes, it was bad, you should be guilty, but it's not like he fucking does anything to rectify it.

Emil listens to Peter talking and has to come to the realisation that he was hurt. That his world was crumbling down. Still, Lukas makes no effort to make him feel supported.

Suddenly, this infuriating scene is interrupted by an even more infuriating one.

Berwald is understandably beating the absolute shit out of Mathias. The others run in and watch until Tino screams for Berwald to stop. Why? Because he's scaring Peter.

Hello? Then get Peter the fuck out. Surely this can't be the priority. Peter will survive watching his attacker get absolutely fucked up. I promise you. He will.

I'd also love to point out the sheer lack of fucks given about Emil and how this is affecting him. I'd like to give Tino the benefit of the doubt and say he was also concerned for Emil, but it doesn't even matter.

So like a fucking idiot, Berwald gets off of Mathias and they all start heading towards the door.

I'd like to mention that Mathias having already shot Emil in the leg was even more incentive for them to leave because even if it was an accident, clearly something is not quite right here. Surely Emil would prefer to heal at home and if Lukas was such a good brother he'd insist on taking Emil home.

Anyway, so, Mathias reveals his true intentions and the hunt begins.

Do I have to mention how stupid this is? A hunt? If he did actually have a motive he'd prefer to go for the easy kill, use those weird shock things and just murder them. If he's too sadistic for that he could also just casually immobilise them and torture them, but no, it has to be a hunt. Sure whatever.

As I said, the layout gets super complicated, but that's not the only issue.

He allegedly shot Emil to even out the playing field, but uh... What about Peter? Oh he gets to team up with the others? That's stupid and also doesn't solve the problem. Now you have to run for your life and lug a child around? It's just so damn weird because he was so committed to things being fair and as such shot him in the fucking leg, but Peter can go to hell?

Berwald and Tino are killed off pretty instantly, so I'll immediately skip onto the other two.

Why was Emil's situation so fucking weird? Also, I'm sorry for the weird topic, but how the fuck does the author think piss works? It's such a weird element to include in the story. It served no purpose to the story as Mathias already knew Emil was in the room. It just made it all grosser.

Also, again with the one dimensional characters. You're telling me Mathias never once felt pity?

It would have improved the story if maybe during the scene where he tries to drown Emil and presumes him dead for him to have a moment of remorse. Tear up about the fact that he murdered someone he cared about. It could've made Emil feel like there was hope for him. Just because your character is a monster that doesn't necessarily make them a psycho. It would've enhanced the story, but no.

And you're telling me after this whole situation everyone is just... Fine? Emil and Peter are just playing together? Emil had to abandon Peter to save himself, surely there will be a bit of tension about that.

Also, Mathias' motive is just bad. It's inconsistent with his character and doesn't make any sense.

This is a hetalia fic, no? There is a rule according to the canon that a nations decisions are secondary to their bosses. That being said, I've never met the Danish royal family, but I doubt the words 'go fuck your entire family' has ever left their mouths.

Another motive could've been that he was just fed up with how he was generally treated by the others. It's a weak motive, but it's better than that bullshit.

Also, the populations of the countries immigrating to Denmark because the Nordics are trapped at Mathias'?

Emil has been on long trips to visit south East Asia. His population stayed put then. So how does this work?

Overall, this fic is just badly written. It needs some serious work. It's inconsistent, dull, confusing, appalling and just downright criminal.

[aph-america]

National Anthem - HWS Anthology Zine - SFW Version

In the summer of 1992, Ivan gets sent on a forced vacation to Alfred’s house.

Submission for the 10 year celebration Hetalia World Stars Anthology Zine @hws-anthology Was so happy to be apart of it!

! Warning, the adult version is on my Ao3 !

______

“I’m so happy you’re here!”

An excited voice echoed through the mansion. Ivan was sitting down, legs crossed. A cigarette hanging from his lips, he took it in between his fingers as he inhaled and blew out the smoke. The nicotine sent some relaxation down his stressed body. He had spent the entire plane ride anxious. Hell, he’s spent the last year anxious.

And here he is, sitting upon an overly expensive chair, in the middle of a luxurious home he hasn’t visited in years.

Alfred approached Ivan, with a pep in his step. He had a bright smile, one that lit up the room. Freshly shaven face, perfectly white teeth, and baby blue eyes that were excited. He genuinely seemed thrilled to have Ivan in his house. He took off his suit jacket and put it behind a chair. Alfred walked to Ivan, leaning down to place a kiss on his cheek. He would've kissed his lips but Ivan’s mouth seemed busy with the cigarette.

Ivan didn’t move when he received the kiss. His large, hooded eyes glanced down before meeting Alfred’s baby blues. His tired eyes contrasted with Alfred’s youthful, energetic expression. How Ivan envied Alfred’s full of life energy. He forced a gentle smile, soft lips turning up in the corner.

“I am glad you feel that way… I was dumped on you after all…” Ivan’s voice turned bitter, lifting the cigarette to his lips. A quick inhale followed by more smoke. Alfred playfully fanned it away with his hand, chuckling at Ivan’s response.

“You weren’t dumped on me. I was so happy when Yeltsin called! I was already pretty excited to hear you were coming for the Washington Summit, and now you are staying for the summer…” Alfred's eyes widened with glee, his arms extending. Ivan noted his animated body language. He appeared genuine, and Ivan wouldn’t take that away from him.

‘The entire summer…’ Ivan repeated in his head. It’s been decades since he’s stayed outside his own country for more than a few weeks. The past fifty years his travels were restricted to a time frame. Always expected back in Moscow in at least two weeks, ready to work. And ready to offer any information to his boss.

It wasn’t until the 80’s he got to travel more freely. Less questions on where he’s going, the figurative leash Ivan wore got loose. But now, this was an entirely new situation. His boss had looked him in the eyes and told him he needed a vacation. A break from the chaos surrounding him, and said vacation would be in America, because he had ‘such a good relationship with Alfred’. Nevertheless, Ivan saw right through all of this. Ivan hadn’t been sent on a three month getaway out of the kindness of his boss’s heart. Every act had a motive, including this.

“I think it was a good call for him to let you have a break. Your boss’s are usually so strict and never let you relax. You deserve a few months to pretend you're just some guy named Ivan Braginsky!” Alfred winked, chuckling as he walked to Ivan's suitcase. He gripped the handle, pulling it close to him. “I’m gunna put this in my room, okay?” He said, wearing a smirk as he quickly walked off with his luggage. Alfred had energy Ivan envied.

‘His room…’ Ivan thought to himself. He sighed and took another drag from his cigarette, the smoke leaving his pink lips slowly. He had to think of a way to gently tell Alfred that he’d prefer his own room. He couldn’t recall the last time he shared a bed with someone for months . A few weeks, yes, but months? He’d need a few nights by himself here and there. This is the exact opposite of Alfred, the bubbly extrovert. He could spend every waking moment with Ivan and not feel the same emotional exhaust.

Ivan put out the cigarette in the ashtray and stood up. He felt a pain in his lower back, causing him to stretch and let out a small whine before he followed behind Alfred. He’d been here countless times before and knew where the master bedroom was. His eyes lingered to the rest of the house. Large, luxurious, and decorated beautifully. This home in particular had an antique look to it. Ivan enjoyed the dark wood, velvet furniture, and oil paints that were displayed in the living room. Walking up the staircase, he eyed the details on the railing, and the glass chandelier above their heads.

Although in Ivan’s eyes, it’s unnecessary big. Other than the little girlfriends Alfred would entertain, he lived alone.

Alfred caught Ivan’s eyes wondering. “Heh, beautiful, isn’t it?” He questioned.

“Of course.” Ivan replied.

“Funny since last time you said my house was a ‘gross display of capitalism’.”

“Both things can be true.” Ivan retorted, rolling his eyes. Alfred got a glance of his facial expression and snickered. He took glee in their constant back and forth, more so than Ivan.

Up the stairs and down the hallway, they arrived at Alfred's room. Ivan’s hooded eyes scanned while Alfred pulled his suitcase near the closet.

“I cleared some space in my closet for you!” Alfred’s hand extended towards the walk in closet. “If you need anything, let me know.”

If Ivan hadn’t been emotionally drained, he would have asked to simply put his belongings in one of the spare bedrooms. It would have given him the opportunity to have his own personal space away from Alfred. Nevertheless, the American was keen on keeping them as close to each other as possible. Ivan couldn’t decide if it’s out of clinginess, distrust, or a mix of both.

“Okay…” Ivan let out a defeated sigh, walking to the bed and collapsing. The velvet sheets pressed against his face felt promising of a good night's sleep. He caught himself imagining being in someone’s arms while he slept, but he ended up pushing that thought deep away.

Alfred chuckled at Ivan’s display, getting on the bed with him. Laying next to him, one hand went to his neck tie to loosen it. A raised brow with a smirk placed on his face. “Ha, you’re tired? Didn’t sleep on the plane at all?”

“No, not at all…” in a weak voice Ivan confessed. “I am going to take a nap…” Heavy eyes closed, his body giving in to the chance to rest. He couldn’t be bothered to change out of his clothes. The bed smelled like Alfred, which he found comforting. A fact he despited. His mind blocked any disturbance as he fell asleep.

What was supposed to be a nap turned into an over twelve hour slumber. Sun shining down on his face, his eyes opened to the sight of a bare chest. Surprised, he flinched while his eyes trailed up a tan chest to meet baby blues. He sat up, looking around, confused and disheveled. In his underwear only, and he couldn’t remember changing out of his clothes.

“Mornin’ baby.” Alfred sweetly talked, arms folded behind his head. “You slept for a loooong time.”

Ivan rubbed his eyes, looking around the room. He noticed his clothes on the floor. “I don’t remember getting undressed…”, confusion lingering in his voice.

“You woke up in the middle of the night and just started to take off all your clothes. You were mumbling that you didn’t feel comfortable… And then you went and snuggled against me, it was super cute, man!” Alfred bragged, grinning ear to ear. Ivan’s own cheeks went red as he turned to look away. “Oh, stop lying…” He accused Alfred. Giving Alfred satisfaction through cutesy or needy behavior isn’t his prerogative.

“Heh, I’m not lying… But anyway, speaking of clothes, I was planning on taking you shopping.” Alfred sat up, stretching his arms until he heard a crack. Ivan’s eyes went to his abs, noticing the toned muscle. Alfred caught his staring and patted his abs, “Wanna feel?”

This only caused Ivan’s face to burn harder, his eyes rolling as he shook his head. He didn’t understand why his eyes had lingered, it only brought embarrassment. Ivan couldn’t let Alfred swoon him, let him win whatever game Ivan had imagined in his mind.

“Why do I need new clothes? My clothes are fine.” Ivan stated, raising a brow.

“Eh, if you’re gunna be here all summer, you’ll stick out a lot…” Alfred attempted to approach the topic with grace, at first. He looked to the side, avoiding eye contact for a moment.

“Why would I stick out?!” The statement felt like an attack in Ivan’s head.

“How do I say this nicely… You dress like an old, sad, gay, Soviet bookkeeper.”

Ivan scoffed, officially offended.

“Also, you’re super tall. If you don’t want people to notice who you are, you gotta dress a little less… Soviet …”

____________________________________________________________________

“I told you Alfred, I don’t like jeans, they are uncomfortable.” Ivan said, shaking his head as he held up the pair of Levi jeans picked out for him. Picky and dismissive, he couldn’t stand the idea of wearing a pair. It’s all so American.

“You don’t like Soviet jeans. Ours is better because we use way more cotton than yours.” Alfred explained, pulling at the jeans to prove their stretchiness. “Soviet jeans barely use enough cotton.”

Ivan’s face twisted into annoyance, as he began to defend the reason. “We have rations for cotton. We cannot use it just for fashion…”

“Yeah, we don’t have fucking cotton rations, sugar.” Alfred spat back, leaning into his ear. Ivan could hear Alfred’s smirk; it made him want to vomit. “We don’t live like it’s still World War II.” The air of condensation of Alfred’s voice irritated Ivan. Alfred could care less if he offended Ivan; the Russian had nothing to say back. Nothing that mattered at least.

“... I wonder how you get such a cheap abundant supply of cotton-” Ivan attempted at a comeback, but Alfred quickly cut him off.

“Save it for your manifesto.” Alfred sighed, walking back to the chair in the dressing room. Sitting down, he leaned back and took in a deep breath to relax. He’s not in the mood to argue with Ivan over ideals that he found silly.

“Now, just try them on. Just once, for me?” Alfred’s voice went from exhausted to sweet. A soft smile on his face, he used it to butter up Ivan. There had to be sugar thrown into his offensive and condescending commentary.

Ivan wanted to say no, but emotional exhaustion got the best of him. Putting the jeans down on a chair, he undid the dress pants he had on. Once they were pushed down, he could feel Alfred’s gaze on him. He didn’t dare to look, as acknowledging it would cause Alfred to be cocky and let a slick comment slip from his lips. He could already hear “But you’re so hot, how can I not stare?” In Alfred’s boastful tone.

Grabbing the Levi’s, Ivan put his legs through them. He had to jump to get them past his hips, and a snicker hit his ears. Ivan rolled his eyes, buttoning it together. Standing straight, he looked at himself in the full length mirror. He looked…

“Yeah, those look so good!” Alfred praised, his smile wide as he watched Ivan. It was an award to see Ivan in jeans; a piece of clothing Ivan swore he’d never own. To Ivan, jeans were a symbol of America and its capitalism. Consumerism, all the aspects of the West he hated. And while his country had embraced the free market and all its commodities, Ivan still attempted to keep his original communist values. That fashion was bourgeois and decadent, an obsession of the West. Clothing shouldn’t be used as a status symbol, but those values were hanging by a thread. He adored how the soft denim fit his body, but couldn’t bear to admit it to Alfred.

“... They look fine…” Ivan said quietly, turning his hips to check himself out in the mirror. The black turtleneck was fitted, as his entire outfit let the viewer see his figure. He had a tendency of wearing baggy sweaters, long coats, and ill-fitted dress pants due to the size of his hips.

“Fine? Baby, they look great. Better than what the fuck you usually are wearing…”

“Don’t call me baby!” Ivan snapped back, his hands balled into fist out of frustration. “And try not to insult me constantly.”

“First of all, you love that I call you baby.”

“No, I do not-“

“Second of all, I love you but… I don’t even think it’s you being a Commie with how you dress, I think it’s just a you thing.”

Ivan took a deep sign before turning around to face the mirror. “I know you hate how I dress, you don’t need to throw it in my face how ugly you think my clothes are…” he complained, a hint of hurt in his voice.

Alfred sighed and attempted to repair the situation. He had a habit of having zero filter, which conflicted with Ivan’s more modest talk. Standing up, he calmly walked over and placed his hands on Ivan’s hips. Standing behind him, Ivan’s expression would have been out of view if it wasn’t for the mirror.

“I just think that you hate your body, so you try to hide it through clothes. That’s all.”

Ivan couldn’t help but to pout, as he had no response. Constant talk of how much he hated his figure, there’s no point in denying it. But he despised giving Alfred any props for being correct.

“… I like the turtleneck.”

“Get it, and get another color too.”

______________________________________________________________

“I’m glad you took my suggestions, you really look great!” Alfred boosted, grinning as he watched Ivan. After their shopping trip, they explored and went out to eat. Alfred insisted they go out for dinner as well, but Ivan pleaded that they stay in, as he felt jet lagged still. He had changed his outfit to one Alfred had bought him. The American sported a smirk the entire time.

Ivan smiled softly, turning his head to look at Alfred. “Thank you.” He took the compliment, agreeing that he did look dashing. Nevertheless, he’s cautious to admit it.

“Wanna cuddle and watch T.V.? I can throw a frozen pizza in the oven for dinner later.” Alfred asked, expanding his arms. Ivan chuckled and nodded, “Sure, why not.” He agreed, following behind Alfred. His eyes wandered as they went up the stairs. “Thank you for taking me out and showing me D.C… It was nice…” Ivan stated, truthful. Alfred had a habit of spoiling, and it’s challenging for a man like Ivan to get used too. But he saw the love behind it, and is aware that it’s Alfred’s love language.

Alfred’s head turned, matching the smile Ivan had. “Of course… Anything for you.” He spoke truthfully, pleased to receive any compliments from Ivan. Once they were in the room, Alfred remembered how thrilled he is for the next few months.

“I’m so excited for you to figure out where you wanna go after the Summit.” Alfred said, sitting on his bed. In a week, Ivan’s boss would come to meet with him regarding aid and future plans. Alfred promised to take Ivan anywhere in the country for a week or two afterwards. Going back and forth between different locations and D.C. were Alfred’s plans for the both of them.

Ivan shrugged, glancing around the room. His eyes went to all the gadgets and possessions Alfred had. In fear of being viewed as materialistic, he held back interest in such items. “Like I said, I really don’t mind where we go… You can just… take me where you think we’d have fun…”

“But that’s so many places, Ivan!” Alfred exclaimed, laughing boastfully. “America has so many great places, babe. Don’t worry, we’ll figure out where to go.” He reassured.

Ivan snorted, leaning against the wall. He crossed his arms, his eyes lingering to a watch Alfred had on a dresser. “I just… take everyone to either Moscow or Saint Petersburg…” His previous bosses were strict on where he could have peers visit.

“Yeah, but Russia has a lot of other cool places, right?” Alfred complemented. His eyes watched Ivan’s, noticing him staring at the watch. “Wanna try that watch on? It’s a Rolex.” He offered.

Ivan twitched and shook his head, embarrassed that his staring had been noticed. “No, no, it is fine.”

“Are you sure? You can have it if you want. I have like, a lot.” Alfred laughed, shrugging. He’d hand over any material possession to Ivan if he so much as showed interest.

“I own a watch. It is somewhere in my bag… It tells time. It works.” Ivan stated, sighing as he crossed his arms. It isn’t a fancy watch, but he cherished it since a human he’s fond of gifted it to him years ago. “Not a fan of luxury watches…” Ivan whispered to himself. Nevertheless, Alfred of course still heard him.

“Why not? I think they look cool.” Alfred stated, tilting his head. He adored watches, and had amassed a collection too many to count.

“Watches are for telling time. Not as status symbols.” Ivan bluntly stated. He couldn’t hold back his opinion, even if Alfred would have a snarky comment to say.

“Oh my god…” Alfred groaned, rolling his eyes. He got up from the edge of the bed and went to the side. Sitting back down, he hunted for a cigarette and lighter in his pocket. “Are we still doing this?” he asked. Finding the cigarette and lighter, he lit it and took a drag. He leaned back against the bed, eyebrow raised.

“Doing what?” Ivan asked, shaking his head.

“This act.” Alfred used his free hand to make a circle motion in the air.

“What act?” Ivan questioned, his voice defensive.

“This commie act.” Alfred stated, his expression not amused.

“Excuse me?!” Ivan scoffed. He isn’t going to let Alfred get away with such a response. This isn’t the first time Alfred had made a similar comment, questioning his morals and integrity.

“Yeah, you heard me. This ‘I’m too good to wear jeans’ act.” Alfred used his fingers to make quotations. “Your boss isn’t going to throw you in jail for liking pretty things anymore… We can drop it now.” Another drag, Alfred thought Ivan had begun to deprogram himself from Communism. He’s discovering that those beliefs were still ingrained somewhere.

Ivan blinked, appalled but not surprised. “I am sorry, do you think my morals and beliefs are an ‘act’?” He questioned, raising a brow with a disgusted expression on his face.

“A little bit, sometimes.” Alfred confessed with a lack of shame. “Communism is dead, the Soviet Union died with it, why are you still talking like a mouth piece for the CPSU?” He looked around, faking a confused expression. “When is it going to end!” He dramatically cried out, rolling his eyes.

Ivan stood in silence for a moment. He had to deal with Alfred’s little jabs all day, and they were getting to him. Only for so long could Ivan be insulted on his status as a nation and values from Alfred. His heart racing from anger, he attempted to control himself. For now.

“When is the act of you being an arrogant asshole going to end?” Ivan spat out, tilting his head. His voice is tense, but quiet. He rarely yelled and kept it that way. He handled a desire to yell by going quieter in his tone. “When is that going to end?” He clenched his teeth, his fingers digging into his forearm.

Alfred took no offense to being called an asshole. “Yeah, I’m an asshole for living in reality.” Another drag from his cigarette, he sat up. Ready to argue, they both had this problem. The pair could go from lovey-dovey, to attacking each other at a split second. A cycle that plagued their relationship for the past few decades.

“Communism doesn’t work. Let it go.” The harshness in Alfred’s voice triggered Ivan. The American kept up an act of being happy and go-lucky, but Ivan knew the real Alfred. He could just as easily be cut throat, rude, and arrogant.

Ivan closed his eyes. He snorted, shaking his head at Alfred’s carelessness with his feelings. “You… Are…” Ivan fought to find the words to describe his emotions. His pause is taken advantage of by Alfred.

“Right? Yes, yes I am. I’m glad you finally are admitting it.” Alfred said in a calm voice, taking another drag. Ivan wanted to punch the smugness off his face, but he barely had the energy to argue. He’s tired. Emotionally and physically, in every way. The usual back and forth they’d do, he’s lost on the words for a comeback.

“Alfred…” Ivan began to speak, opening his eyes. Suddenly, without a warning, his throat dried up. A lump formed and he fought by tears. Swallowing it, he took a deep breath and held it together. For the moment at least.

“I get it. You think Communism is stupid…” Ivan took another breath, looking to the side. He’s tired, truly is.

“You think my ideals and beliefs are stupid. I get it. You won.” He emphasized. His teeth clenched, holding back the urge to scream. “The Soviet Union ended. The Berlin Wall fell. Everyone wants to join NATO…” He listed off, walking slowly towards the bed. “My economy is in shambles, my government is in ruins, there’s no food on the shelves… Thugs are running the streets…” Ivan let out a sad laugh, shrugging and shaking his head in defeat. “I couldn’t compete with the free market… I get it. I get it… I get it all, so please, it would be nice…” He inhaled, feeling out of breath as he wanted to shout on the top of his lungs. Repeating all the terrible things that had gone on in his homeland since the introduction of capitalism broke his heart.

“It would be nice…” His voice cracked, as he couldn’t hold back anymore. “If you didn’t throw it in my face constantly! I get it Alfred! I get it!” He yelled, shaking his hands above his head. It wasn’t overly loud, but it’s loud enough to be unusual for him. Fighting back tears, he took additional deep breaths. It’s a battle to deal with Alfred’s mix of love bombing and constant degrading comments. How is he supposed to cope with one minute Alfred expressing his love, and another relaying back all his failures to his face?

Alfred sighed, eyes expression appearing tired. It hid the shock of hearing Ivan yell. Perhaps he’d gone too far, he was simply annoyed in the moment. His lack of filter bit him in the ass. Aware that he needed to change his approach, he knew just how.

“Listen, I- I’m sorry. I love you. Come sit next to me, baby. Please?” Alfred’s tone changed to gentle and sincere, a contrast to earlier.

“Don’t call me baby! And no, I’m leaving!” Ivan yelled, anger and pain in his voice as he turned on his heels and headed towards the door. His heart raced, the pounding in his chest made it hard to breathe.

“Nobody loves you like I do, so why are you trying to leave?” Alfred kept his voice calm, knowing that yelling would trigger Ivan more. He needed his lover to cool down and feel less attacked. When Ivan feels defenseless, he’s the type to flee.

The statement had Ivan pause, his chest tingling for the first time in a while. He gave into the urge of defending himself against Alfred’s manipulative words. “That’s not true. You don’t love me.” His tone hurt as he shook his head. Ivan had enough awareness to know that statement isn’t true, but debuffing Alfred’s claims of love were his only defense at the moment.

“That’s a fucking lie dollface and you know it.” Alfred retorted, taking a drag from his cigarette before putting it out in the ashtray next to him. His expression unamused, he changed it to a more sympathetic look.

“Name someone who would have happily taken you in for months? Who? I was so fucking happy when your boss called. All I could think was how I’d get to wake up next to you everyday, all summer. Who else loves you like that? Who else wants to be around you like that?” Alfred raised a brow as his manipulative speech was presented as a declaration of love. “Other than your weird ass sister… Who loves you, like I do?”

Ivan had nothing to say, his mouth opened but no words left. No names came to mind. Not even Yao, they were on rocky terms at the moment. Ivan lacked an argument, and he despised it. No comeback to Alfred’s mind games.

Ivan backed up, his eyes wide. He shook his head, as if he’s shaking out Alfred’s words from his mind. “No, no… I’m not falling for this again…” Ivan whispered, talking to himself more so than Alfred.

“You aren’t falling for anything, because it’s the truth.” Alfred replied, shaking his head back. “Listen, I’m sorry. You’re stressed out and tense, and I’ve made it worse. Let me make it up to you, you need it.” Alfred offered a soft smile, tilting his head as he pointed to the other side of his bed.

Ivan’s breath hitched as he backed up again. Shaking his head more, he fought back the temptation of being in his arms. The idea of having a warm embrace around him, the allure of being loved. But to him, it’s a fantasy that he needed to escape.

“You don’t know what I need.” Ivan replied, returning to walking towards the door. Alfred is getting inside his head, and he’s desperate to leave.

“I do, because I know you, baby. I know that even though you tower over most people, and have to be strong and cold in nearly every aspect of your life- you wanna feel loved.”

That statement made Ivan freeze in his tracks. His eyes lingered at the doorknob, but he couldn’t find the strength to grip it and walk out. Alfred didn’t have to look at him to know.

“No one’s gentle with you, but I’m gentle with you. I love you. I’m sorry for being such an asshole earlier. You’re right… I… I don’t want to fight, baby, please. Just sit next to me.” Alfred pleaded. Ivan stayed in his spot, his mind and body at war on what to do. Alfred is being kind, but Ivan had a gut feeling that this was all an act. That Alfred desired to pacify him rather than genuinely make up for such arrogant behavior.

“I love you. You’re breaking my heart, don’t leave.” Alfred pouted, leaning back against the headboard. He didn’t want to have to get out of bed and chase after him. He’d do it, but he rather have his moody love come back to him.

A guilty sensation grew in Ivan’s chest. “You are the one breaking my heart by being so cruel…” Ivan replied, standing up for himself.

“And I’m sorry. Let me make it up to you.” Alfred pleaded, lifting up the blanket to reveal the empty spot next to him. “I promise I will if you let me.”

Ivan stared at the bed. He had several choices. He could leave, and teach Alfred a lesson. It would be in vain since he knew Alfred wouldn’t change as a person any time soon. Or he could give in. Sit next to him and forget this argument happened. His pride desired revenge, and hated the concept of rewarding Alfred. Who would he be if he ran into his arms? Is it weak?

‘I love you.’

‘No one loves you like I do.’

‘You’re breaking my heart.’

Alfred’s words echoed in Ivan’s mind. Such rare phases, they stuck out when said to him. And the only person who did was Alfred.

‘I’m gentle with you.’

Ivan felt so tired. His body ached, and his heart hurt. He looked at Alfred’s face, and the idea of turning his back on such a smile began to torment him.

“Please?” Alfred begged, looking like a puppy who’s just been kicked.

Ivan rolled his eyes, sighing but still walking over. He couldn’t stand this. But yet he sat next to Alfred on his bed. The mattress creaked when he sat down.

“Fine. You want to make it up to me? How so?” Ivan asked, placing his hands on his waist. His expression annoyed but had softened.

Read the rest here on Ao3! Warning it is adult content!

[arina-nov]

Psssst! New chapter "Call me Peter Kirkland" dropped! 🌟