#countryhumans alaska

[cawthedwal]

[chaoticprussia]

shout out to alaska and his terrible existence.

[oblivionbirb]

Stateball doodles,,,

No South Park doodles today because no ideas for them gang

[barrracuuda]

Alaska!♡♡

Oh my goodness the colors were the worst part this time! I might revisit this when I’ve drawn all my favs, because there are definitely things that I might want to change in the future.

I’ll be honest, Alaska was not one of it favorites at the start of the first book Heaven’s Fall: Apocalypse. I found her so annoying back then, but not anymore! I’m trying to reread the whole series because it’s been a while and I wanna refresh my memories on all the events. Recent rereading, knowing where her and America’s relationship by the end of the most recent book, makes me understand her behavior a lot more.

Not only that but their father-daughter bond remind me of my own dynamic with my father. Granted he isn’t nearly as bad as America, but I get the feeling of having a father who wasn’t or isn’t always there for you and the thing with,,, bad habits like drinking and substances.

As always with every finished piece this is fan art for @drizzeltheraincat ‘s Heaven’s Fall series!

(I’m pushing these out like crazy, it’s cause school is out. I hope you like this one as well, drizzle, although it’s not as appealing as the others!)

[youvebeeneyedtt]

doodle

1st one was a request

[weirdestbooks]

The Not So Good Friday (Wattpad | Ao3)

Requested by @iabggsyk

Alaska wasn’t a big fan of cities. He preferred to live out in the woods, by himself and at peace with the world. However, that didn’t mean that he avoided cities entirely. He visited them occasionally, going to Juneau for political stuff his government wanted him to get involved with now that he was a state or just to look around at shops and restaurants. 

Today, Alaska was in Anchorage, looking for a restaurant. It was about 5:30, and he was starting to get hungry. He had been in the city to buy some things for his home, like scented candles and yarn—little things that made Alaska’s life a little more peaceful and allowed him to make things for his siblings. 

Especially NASA. The space organization realized how many stars could be seen from Alaska’s home and began to spend more and more time there. Alaska figured it was about time he made his baby brother a blanket, as NASA could not handle the cold.

Suddenly, the ground began shaking under Alaska’s feet, faster and faster, until it threw him to the ground, his precious bag of yarn spilling out into the street. Alaska pulled himself into the fetal position, more out of instinct than anything else, wishing he was in country form so he could have his wings to wrap around him.

He just had to wait out the earthquake. 

As Alaska lay there, eyes squeezed shut. He felt the world shift around him. He heard glass shattering and buildings falling apart, and all he did was squeeze his eyes tighter, hoping it would end soon.

The earthquake seemed to last forever, a horrific symphony of shaking earth and shattering buildings, a storm that Alaska was caught in, as small pieces of debris cut at his body. It was hell on earth. Broken sobs made their way past Alaska’s lips as he prayed for God to make it stop, prayed that it end soon, and prayed that he would not be killed by the earthquake, an earthquake, unlike anything Alaska had felt before.

It felt as if the Earth itself was ripping apart.

Finally, the shaking of the land seemed to stop, but Alaska stayed where he was, as he could not tell if the land was still shaking or if that was his own trembling body.

He could hear his own breath, painfully loud against that silence that only seemed broken by pained cries and the creaking of buildings. Alaska lay there for another eternity before he finally opened his eyes.

Anchorage was destroyed.

Buildings lay crumbled. Sinkholes had opened in the streets. His biggest city was gone just like that. A shaking of the earth more powerful than Alaska had ever felt before. He felt lightheaded and faint and shakily climbed to his feet, stumbling slightly.

The city looked like so many Alaska had seen destroyed by war. It was hard to believe an act of nature could do that. Alaska closed his eyes as he tried to shake the horrible memories from his mind.

Suddenly, Alaska’s eyes flew open as he remembered the little brother who had been at his house. Alaska took another shaky step forward before transporting himself back to his house. It looked undamaged, but NASA was shaking in front of it, shivering and barefoot.

“Go back inside!” Alaska snapped at the organization, knowing how stupid it was for him to be outside in the weather. NASA’s head snapped back to face him, fear on his face.

“What was that? Did we get hit by a meteor?” NASA asked, his mind stuck in the stars like it always was. Alaska shook his head, grabbed his brother by the elbow, and guided him back inside. “Laska, you’re hurt!”

“It’s not bad. I’ve seen worse. But you’re going to be hurt worse if you stay outside.” Alaska said calmly. In all honestly, he had forgotten about the cuts and bruises, so focused on checking in on NASA and processing the destruction. “And that was an earthquake—a really bad one. I’ve never felt one like that before. I…”

Alaska shook his head, trailing off as they stepped inside.

“Are you okay? Should I get Dad? Dad can fix things, right?” NASA asked, his wings flaring out as he asked rapid-fire questions.

“Papa will find out and come check on us. I want to make sure you have no damage from the cold.” Alaska said, wanting to keep his genius little brother close before he inevitably ran off and got himself hurt, “Please, stay with me?”

NASA crossed his arms, analytical eyes scanning Alaska before he nodded.

“Fine. But I get to make sure none of your injuries are bad.” NASA said. 

“Sure thing, little brother. I could use the help.” Alaska said, throwing a blanket over NASA’s shoulders before going to grab the first aid kit from his bedroom, stumbling slightly as he did so.

Alaska still felt like he was shaking, like the earth had yet to settle and was still shaking and shaking and shaking and shaking—

Alaska was pulled out of his thoughts by a wing on his back, NASA looking at him with concerned eyes. Alaska felt a pang of shame in his chest, having worried his little brother so.

“I’m getting Dad,” NASA said, his voice soft. Alaska nodded, throat seizing up as he was guided to his bed, with the blanket he had put on NASA being tucked around him. Alaska burrowed into the warmth, trying to shake the feeling of the earth heaving beneath his feet.

It did nothing to help.

Alaska still felt unstable and shaky.

He still felt like he was trapped in Anchorage as the earth pulled apart the city around him. Not even his father could remove the shakiness that had just been injected into his being.

Everything was shaking.

Nothing could stop that.

[askalaskahumanstate49]

Picture with dad….

[alfredf-jones]

Here's an art thing I made for a friend, this is Alaska when they were 7. When I draw them older I'll give them a bio

[usa-manors-library]

Food Stash Finding

(A/N: Heyyy let me give you a warning real quick, guys, gals, pals; Alaska abuse! If you want to pass it, scroll until you see the text divider.

Also; I'm Latinizing most Russian words for the sake of my English speaking audience. Obviously the Russian language uses a different alphabet, but I thought I'd make it easier for most of  you readers to pronounce in your heads.)

"Russkaya Amerika," Imperial Russia demanded in a stern, disapproving voice as he threw open the door.

The colony jumped, startled by the sudden entrance of his father. He turned away from his window and offered a shaky smile.

"Zdravstvujtye, Papa," He greeted, "How are you?"

"How am I? Syn, you're a fool if you think I'm here to talk about feelings," The Russian scoffed, tipsily stumbling into the room, "We both know no son of mine can be a fool. So. Where is it?"

The boy's smile wavered, mind running a million miles per second to figure out what his father was talking about, "Where's what?"

"Don't play dumb with me, you thief," Russian Empire huffed, starting to shuffle through his son's things, "There were twelve loaves of Kalach bread yesterday morning. I ate one, and today when I went to get a pre-supper snack, there were nine. Tell me, you little pig, how does that math make sense?"

Russkaya Amerika paled.

"I don't recall permitting you to eat breakfast today. In fact, I wasn't home to allow you to have dinner either. I also sent you to bed without supper last night..." Imperial Russia continued, "So I have a theory. I believe, we have a rat in this house."

"A... rat?"

"You heard me. We have a fat, gluttonous rat roaming these halls. A filthy rat that must've been hungry, after missing three meals..." The empire eyed a bit of crumb on the bookshelf, "A rat that was so hungry, it didn't bother covering its little tracks..."

"...Papa. Papa, wait—!"

Russian Empire went to the bookshelf and brushed off the crumbs. He turned to glare at Alaska.

Russian America's eyes widened as he covered his mouth.

"Izveeneetye, izveeneetye, izveeneetye!" He tearfully apologized, bowing his head, "I— I didn't... I was hung... Izveeneetye! It slipped out, I didn't mean to—!"

*THWACK*

"You do not have the authority to tell me what to do, rat," The Russian hissed, lowering his throwing arm.

His son nodded without looking up, trembling as his hot tears fell off his face.

"...And for the love of God, stop being so pathetic," Russian Empire gave an exasperated sigh, "It didn't even hit you."

He's right. The dictionary flew past the boy's head. Papa wanted to scare him, not hurt him. But that would change, the second he turned around. 

10-year-old Alaska wasn't crying over the crumbs. He was crying over the food stash, formerly hidden behind that book.

He felt the blood freeze in his veins as he heard the country look behind him.

"Russkaya Amerika... Stealing your own father's food?"

Russian America was very grateful that the heaviest book was already thrown.

──────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────

"Alaska?" America called, softly knocking on his new territory's door, "May I come in?"

Alaska's eyes widened at the sound of his country's voice. He almost tripped over his own feet as he rushed out of bed and to the door, quickly opening it for America.

"Да— Yes!" Alaska nodded, "Of course."

He mentally cursed himself for taking so long. If he had only watched where he was stepping, he could've gotten to the door sooner. There was also the language slip-up. What kind of idiot forgot the language spoken in his own country?

He watched America's face (and hands) for a reaction, but... nothing happened.

America took a step forward.

Alaska braced himself for whatever was coming.

America simply walked into the room and smiled.

"Ah, alright! I just wanted to make sure Indiana replaced your pillows and sheets. The ones that were in here before were made to be uncomfortable," America chuckled, "We used this as a guest room— specifically for guests we didn't want to hang around too long, so we sabotaged the bedding in hopes of making them want to leave sooner."

"She already replaced them then," Alaska confirmed, "They're very nice. Uhm... Maybe too nice? Are you sure I have the right ones?"

America laughed, much to Alaska's silent confusion.

He was serious. Surely America didn't mean to give something that well-made to him, right? At home— Well, at his former home, he didn't even have a pillow.

But this isn't Russia, Alaska reminded himself, And I have no right to question America's decisions, even if they aren't very... normal.

"I'm glad you like them! Now, I also came here to see how you're doing."

Okay, this had to be a trick.

"I know this whole thing's probably... odd for you, to say the least," America continued, "And this house can be a bit loud and... rambunctious, at times—"

Alaska gave a small nod, pretending to know what 'rambunctious' meant.

"So I wanted to check in on you. Is everything alright?"

Govno. Alaska didn't know how to answer.

If he said no, America would be angry— 

Upset, He corrected himself, Countries... Countries never get angry. They get upset.

He would be upset with Alaska for being ungrateful of his hospitality.

If he said yes, America would think that's— That's egotistical, right? To say you're alright when so many other people aren't? Papa told him it was.

"It's different, but everything's fine," Alaska answered dryly, hoping that was neutral enough.

Apparently it was, since America seemed semi-satisfied with the answer.

"Good," The American nodded, "If there's ever a time when you don't feel like it is... you can always tell me."

'So I can discipline you for being a whiner,' Alaska mentally filled in the blank.

Instead of vocalizing his conclusion, he simply nodded.

"Yes sir."

"Great." America made his way to the door, "By the way, supper's going to be a little late tonight. Ohio started a fire in the kitchen by making flammable... tea? He seems to be really good at lighting water on fire. Anyway, it took a while to clean up, so I'd say it'd be— What, thirty minutes late?"

America thought for a moment before shrugging, "I'm not certain. I'll just call for everyone, so keep an ear out, alright?"

Alaska nodded once more.

"Nice. See you then!"

*BANG*

*THUD*

America accidentally slammed the door, making Alaska jump as a heavy, insecure portrait fell off the wall.

Alaska felt his heart stop.

That was the portrait he hid his new food stash behind.

"Ti Durak...!" Alaska quietly insulted himself, frozen in fear as his eyes went to the stash scattering across the ground to the turning doorknob.

"Sorry about that! I guess I don't know my own... strength..." America surveyed the scene, "...Alaska?"

Alaska fearfully dropped to his knees, trembling as he attempted to clean up his mess with his shaky hands.

"Iz— izveeneetye! Izveeneetye, izveeneetye!" A terrified Alaska blurted out, "Izveeneetye! I'm... I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry, sorry!"

"Alaska..." America carefully approached the territory, crouching next to him.

"I'm— I'm sorry! Izveeneetye, iz-izveeneetye!" He continued to apologize, "I... This... I was hungry, I'm sorry!"

America lifted his hand. Alaska responded by wincing and bowing his head, heart hammering and mind racing.

Would America's hits hurt more or less than Papa's?

I mean, Papa was my father, surely he held back a little, since I was his son. To America, I'm just a random territory. He doesn't have any reason to weaken the blow.

How can I be a burden to him already? I haven't even been here for a week, and I've already screwed up! Looks like Papa had the right idea...

Will America sell me? When? Would the person he sells me to sell me, after they realize what a waste of space I am? What about the person they sell me to? The person that sells me after the other?

Will I just be bought and sold over and over again until I'm old and gray?

America brought his hand down, gently resting it on Alaska's as a sign to stop.

Alaska paused and looked up to America with bewildered eyes.

"You don't have to apologize. It wasn't your fault," America carefully explained with a softened expression, "It was mine, really. I was the one who slammed the door. I'm not mad."

"You're not... Countries don't get... mad. You're— You're upset."

"No. Not with you," America negated before motioning to the mess on the floor, "Now. Do you feel like telling me what all this is about...? It's completely alright if you want to catch your breath first. I won't make you tell me if you don't want to."

"I... It's... I'm sorry for being such a little... little rat... I stole— I stole from your pantry. I ate without your permission!"

America studied Alaska's face and frowned.

...That can't be good—

"Alaska... you're not a rat. You don't need my permission to eat. You don't need it to get something from the pantry either. You live here. It's your pantry too..." America furrowed his brow, "Have you... Have you been skipping meals? Since I haven't been... 'permitting' you?"

Alaska hesitantly nodded.

Yep, now America's definitely worried.

"So you haven't had breakfast since...?"

"Ehm... A couple days before I left Russia."

"Well then, I'm certainly glad you 'stole'," America made sure to dramatize the air quotes, "From the pantry. Is... Was asking for permission normal for you?"

Alaska nodded once more.

"And if you didn't?"

"I... I, uhm, got disciplined."

That word made the country queasy, for some reason.

"What did that... entail?"

"Just..." Alaska rolled up his sleeve to show off a couple bad bruises, "This and yelling. Discipline."

And now America's pissed. 

"How long had he been... 'disciplining' you?"

"I don't... remember the first time...?"

Russian Empire's very lucky they're both countryhumans. Beating the crap out of him could destroy thousands of lives. Otherwise, he and America would have some words.

Some very long words. 

Some words that may or may not be eternally solidified in his mind via punches.

And I'm not talking about the word 'discipline.'

"Alaska... That's not... good. Or normal."

"I— I know! I should've been better! I should've been less of a burden! It— It was my fault! If I was... If I was a better person, than he wouldn't of had to... to—!"

"No... no... That's..." America shook his head, "That wasn't your fault."

"But it was!" Alaska snapped, "It always was!"

His eyes widened as he realized his own tone.

"I'm— I'm sorry!" He bowed his head again, "It— It slipped out, I...!"

"You're okay, Laskie," America reassured, placing his hand on the territory's shoulder softly, "You don't... you don't need to apologize for emotions."

Alaska seemed unconvinced, but his string of apologies trailed off into silence.

America took a deep breath. He could do this.

"Alaska, do you know what abuse is? Izbiyeniye?"

"Of course I do," Alaska spoke up, "But I don't see how that's relevant."

"What's your definition of abuse?"

"Beating up somebody. Maybe starving them or yelling at them for no reason."

"So you were abused."

"No," Alaska shook his head, "No... That's different."

"How so?"

"I... I was being disciplined. Punished. Taught a lesson. It's the only way I learn anything."

"...Follow up question; have you ever heard the term 'gaslighting?'"

"Yes, but..." Alaska's head jerked up with realization, "He didn't do that! He never would! I'm his son! Who's ever heard of a somebody trying to gaslight their own family members!?"

America slowly raised his hand.

"I... That..." Alaska stammered, "That's— That's not fair. England and Britain don't count."

America slowly lowered his hand.

A brief period of silence fell over the room while Alaska tried to gather his thoughts.

"Your... Your dad tried to gaslight you... You and your uncles... And maybe even your siblings, right?"

"Mhm," America nodded.

"...How were you able to tell? To— To realize what he was doing?"

"I realized that his lies didn't add up."

"And... And you did that by...?"

"...What did Russia 'discipline' you for?"

"Stealing food, naturally," Alaska replied, inwardly cringing at his accidental rolled 'r.'

"Taking care of a basic human need that he refused to provide?"

"Ehm... Getting in his way. Like standing in a room or hallway he didn't want me in."

"On purpose?"

"No... I didn't go into the closed-off rooms."

"So... Just existing in your home?"

"I... Yes. But, but there were times when I was obnoxious and made too much noise!"

America looked at Alaska doubtfully, "You don't seem to be the 'loud and obnoxious' type."

"When... When I was goofing off, or laughing at something stupid, or rambling about something I liked, or—"

"Just being human?"

"But I was an attention seeker, too! I got scared, sometimes I got angry, sometimes I was sad—"

"So... Just being human?"

Alaska paused and furrowed his brow.

"But... But when I was little I had nightmares and woke him up! I... I bothered him with imaginary stories and tried to get him to play! That was selfish—!"

"That's... That's just being a kid, Laskie. A kid who..." America's gaze turned sorrowfully nostalgic for a moment, "Wants his father."

"I...! I..."

Alaska couldn't think of any more examples.

The fragile hallucination of his Papa being a perfect father was shattering before his eyes.

"Listen... I'm not claiming to have gone through something as bad as you have," America started, "I mean, I always had food. Fath— England wasn't as physically violent as Russia sounds. At least when I was growing up as a failure— *Ahem*, failed colony."

Alaska's ears perked up at that. He didn't know America used to be a failed colony too.

"But... Our situation's share a little common ground. I know... I know how hard it can be to come to terms with the fact that your dad... might not be the hero you made him out to be growing up," America disclosed, "I know what it's like to worry about left behind siblings... What were their names?"

"Litva and Finlyandskoye. Or... Or Lietuva and Suomi. Lithuania and Finland, for you."

"Lithuania and Finland... I'll remember that," America filed away before continuing, "I... also know how difficult it can be to get through when you feel alone, and... I don't want that for you, Alaska."

"What... What do you mean?"

"I mean I'm... I'm here for you," America stated, "Realizing how abnormal your life was before can be... a scare, a migraine, a blessing, a curse, a... a jarring change... And I want to help you sort it out. When you're ready to, of course. I just... I want you to know you can rely on me for help.

For support, talks, my opinion, or whenever you just need to be around a friend... I'm here. I don't want you to feel utterly alone like I... Like some people feel, when they're untangling a mess like this."

"...Really? You'd do that for...?" Alaska looked down, "I... I don't want to burden you with..."

"You're not a burden, Laskie. You've never been."

"I'm... I'm not sure if I believe you about that..."

"You wouldn't, right away," America admitted, standing up, "But I'm hoping you'll believe it one day."

Alaska gave a small nod as America helped him up, "Maybe... Maybe one day."

Not today, but...

Maybe one day.

[magicbluemoond20]

Inktober day 18 - drive

sorry is but late

[nevgovhater]

Intro time!!

Hello!! I have several different name, but I go by Chaoxi, Dirk, Socal, Maui, Simatuq, Dallas, and other such

I also go by The Sailors as that is our sys name

— I'm intersex tfem aphroflux sapphillean twospirit and I have a lovely partner

— physically disabled. Don't use fonts or heavy typing quirks around us please!!

— WE ARE POC. Any closed culture names we use are from a culture we belong to. We have established rules in the system to only use closed culture names we can use.

We are a diagnosed rcdid system but will not blog about trauma. Just about our special interests, etc

Main spinterests are ben brainard(comedy, wttt, etc), homestuck + hiveswap, warrior cats, countryhumans/balls, planetary moe, solarballs, tf2, hlvrai, object shows, etc ^_^

We are also hyperfixated on regretavator, but distance ourself from the fandom due to the ableism of a huge percent of members

ENDOS, PROSHIPPERS, ETC DNI. We do not have to explain.

Frequent fronters ::

- Զեն / Zen 🛸

- Roxy Lalonde 🎶

- Umiaktorvik 🧫

- Sedna 🌊

- Arizona 🌻

- Alaska 🗻

- Oklahoma 🌪

- Gov 📠

- Ijiraq 🦈

And more !!

Toodles!! -🛸

[ask-the-usa-manor]

Bippity bappity, your age go backity!

*turns America into a child for 24 hours*

“Hey, Lask,” Maine dully greeted, sticking his head into the kitchen after hearing some suspicious stumbling, clanging, and a loud THUD, “What’s wrong?”

Alaska sat on the ground, expression blank.

“…I almost stepped on him,” He admitted, staring off into a corner of the room.

Maine followed the Alaskan’s gaze.

He was met with the eyes of a scrawny child, no more than eight years old.

“…Hey, buddy,” Alaska awkwardly greeted the boy, “Sorry I almost trampled you to death. Who are you here for?”

After a long stretch of silence, the boy tilted his head, “…What?”

“Who are you visiting?” Alaska reworded.

“…Nobody?”

“Okay then,” Maine cut in, “Why are you here?”

“Where?”

“America’s.”

“…Who’s?”

“…The United States…?”

The boy shook his head, “Never heard of him before… Ehm. Blunt question, I know, but… Did you kidnap me?”

“No, nobody here has kidnapped you,” Alaska frowned, “…At least I’m pretty sure—”

“Countryhuman? Global superpower? Burgers?” Maine prompted, “Nothing comes to mind?”

“Nuh-uh,” The kid squinted at him, “…What’s up with your clothes?”

Maine frowned, “What’s wrong with my clothes?”

“What’s right with your clothes?”

Alaska fought down a smile, “…Ouch.”

“We’re wearing the same thing,” Maine pointed out, “Your t-shirt’s just blue.”

The boy, confused, looked down at his shirt.

“…What the…?” After a long moment, he shook off his befuddlement, “Huh. I wear it better.”

“What’s your beef with me?”

The younger blinked up innocently, “I don’t recall giving you a piece of cow before—”

“Who are you?”

“Ro,” The boy answered shortly, “Roanoke. Are you sure I haven’t been kidnapped? My father wouldn’t bother paying a ransom for me, if you’re wondering. It’s been tried before. Maybe kidnap one of his dogs next time?”

(Kind of wanted to keep the ‘Little America!’ and ‘Little States!’ sagas relatively close to each other, so— You get this early!)

[alaskas-space-project]

Intro + What thee can call upon me for

‧₊˚✩ Call me Alaska or Prinz, either is fine

‧₊˚✩ I use they/them pronouns

‧₊˚✩ Don't really know how to do a DNI,but I'll give it a go. DNI if you… support Israel/Zionism, support Putin, TERF or the like, are abelist/homophobic/racist/any of the ists or phobics, If you are anti-self diagnosis for neurodiversity, if you are 'transabled' (genuinely makes me fume so just DNI), or if you're a part of 'Reichblr'. (I think that's it but I may add to this later)

‧₊˚✩ I'm rather tumblr illiterate and unsure of the 'social code', so forgive me for any grave misteps (don't tell me there's no code bcs there is)

‧₊˚✩ I'm autistic. Special interests are: The Kingdom of Prussia (+ things related to it), CountryHumans, Tanks, Military planes (WW2 onwards), Commercial planes, War/Conflict, Vexillology, Figure Skating post-Sochi 2014, Antarctica, the movies 'TopGun: Maverick' and 'Planes', and most recently F1!

‧₊˚✩ I might post art/writing here, but I do have a sideblog dedicated to that, (currently empty)

‧₊˚✩ Link to my Ao3. I write for CountryHumans, and Call of Duty

‧₊˚✩ any of my own posts I tag with ‘alaskas rambling project’ because oh boy do I love to ramble

*

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ Tag me to identify Military or Commercial Aircraft.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ I will also give tanks and flags a go

[weirdestbooks]

The Burn Recovery (Wattpad | Ao3)

This is Alaska's POV of the burn incident from @aloha-from-angel's chapter of her book Born of Fire, Burning Bridges.

Alaska breathed heavily as he stumbled through the halls, looking for his dad, looking for Washington, looking for anyone to help him. The burn throbbed, the pain growing as his vision blurred with tears. Alaska could feel his body try and collapse, give out on him. 

There was so much pain it was hard to think about anything else.

“Alaska?” Alaska heard his dad’s confused voice say, prompting him to turn his head towards Папа slowly. His dad’s face was alright with horror, shock, and fear.

"Папа ..." Alaska muttered as his body swayed. His dad quickly ran over, his warm arms wrapping around Alaska as he collapsed. His dad’s fingers brushed against the burn, and Alaska screamed.

“MINNIE!” His dad yelled as Alaska’s vision darkened, the pain overwhelming him. His body felt so heavy, and his arm hurt. Alaska moved his head limply to the side and puked, tears mixing with the bile that was dripping out of his mouth. 

Alaska felt his dad brush the hair off his forehead, muttering words his brain couldn’t decipher. But even then, Alaska could still tell they were full of love. Alaska moved his head to bury it into his dad’s chest, and his dad let him, even though there was vomit on Alaska’s face.

Alaska felt someone grab the injured arm, and he groaned, trying to hold back another scream. His dad moved him so his face was slightly freed, and Alaska could see Minnesota holding onto his arm. She smiled apologetically at Alaska before muttering something to their dad, who nodded before he kissed Alaska’s forehead.

“Wh…pened?” he asked, the words beginning to make sense again, as did the pain from the contact lesson.

“Kingdom hurt me. She says she friend, but hurts. Burns.” Alaska mumbled. His dad’s face turned furious, and Alaska flinched, afraid that some of that anger was directed toward him. Alaska didn’t want his dad ever to be mad at him. His dad’s face changed to one of concern again, and Alaska felt America’s hands run through his wings, causing Alaska to melt at his dad’s touch.

“I’m not mad at you, Lasky. I could never be mad at you. I’m mad at the people who have put you through all this pain. You don’t deserve it, my sweet boy,” he said. As Alaska’s arm moved, he let out a surprised and pained one. But then Alaska smiled, his dad’s words filling him with warm happiness.

Alaska loved him so much.

“Minnie will treat your burn now. Are you okay?” his dad asked. Alaska buried himself into America’s side, curling up against his dad’s body. He nodded slowly and felt his dad continue preening his neck feathers. Then, Alaska closed his eyes and looked away from the burn.

Alaska didn’t want to see his bubbly, bright red skin again. It scared him. It scared him so much. That’s why Alaska wanted his dad so badly. He makes everything less scary. 

He makes everything better. He always makes things better. 

Alaska heard his dad begin singing softly. His hands worked their way through Alaska’s feathers, and the tips of his wings shuddered from the stimulation.

It was so nice Alaska could almost fall asleep. But he couldn’t. Every time he thought he wanted to or was about to, pain from the burn jolted him awake.

Alaska felt his tears beginning to force their way out of his body, his body shaking like a leaf from his cries.

“It hurts Папа! It hurts!” Alaska cried out as his sobbing became louder, and the pain grew. Minnesota was putting some sort of cream on the burn, and it hurt so badly that Alaska could hardly think straight. He couldn’t even figure out how he was still conscious.

Alaska felt his dad’s hands pause, and he tensed, afraid he messed up.

“I’m so sorry, Icey. But I have to treat it so it doesn’t get worse.” Alaska heard Minnesota say. He nodded, but still, the tears came.

“I’m sor–sorry for crying,” Alaska stuttered, fearful that his dad would order the tending of the burn, the good feelings, to stop, to end.

“You have nothing to be sorry for. Crying is natural and okay. You are in pain. You never have to apologize for crying because of that.” His dad said as he wiped tears from Alaska’s face. Alaska whimpered, missing the singing and also out of confusion.

His Отец said that crying was bad and wrong. But his dad said it was okay and good. Who was right? 

Alaska was with his dad, so he should pretend his dad was right, right?

Alaska didn’t know…..

He was hurt and confused. Everything his dad and his Отец said conflicted, and it confused Alaska. He loved his Отец, and he loved his dad. Who was really telling Alaska what was right?

Was it his dad?

Was it his Отец?

Was it neither?

Alaska was trying to stop his crying, but he couldn’t. He just buried his face back in his dad’s chest, tried to swallow back down the bile, and tried to relax under his dad’s care.

But that was hard. Everything hurt.

His dad returned to his singing, the words blending into nothing more than a comfortable feeling. The urge to sleep was returning, and the pain was dying down as Alaska could feel his sister wrapping up the injury. Alaska smiled and then pressed his face deeper into his dad’s chest.

Alaska was pretty sure he could sleep now, and he began trying to, but he could hear Minnesota start a conversation with his dad. Alaska groaned as his dad’s chest moved underneath him as they talked. 

Alaska wanted her to go away, for all the other sounds to fade. He just wanted the world to be him, his dad, warm, and sleep.

Alaska just wanted it to be that.

“Папа….sleepy. I want quiet,” Alaska murmured. The conversation stopped before he felt his dad’s fingers slowly running down the part of Alaska’s back where his wings met his body. His dad then began gently massaging there, and Alaska felt his sleepiness grow. His eyes slipped shut instantly.

“Good night, Lasky,” Alaska heard his dad say. Alaska mumbled something before his mind faded away, sleep overtaking his warm, limp, comfortable body.

—————

Awareness returned to Alaska slowly. Very slowly. Alaska wasn’t aware of much at first, but he quickly became aware of a pressure on his chest and the bandages on his throbbing arm.

Alaska was lying down now, probably on his bed. His dad must have moved him there after Alaska passed out. That was nice of him.

Alaska cracked his eyes open and saw his dad sleeping on his chest. Had his dad been there the entire time Alaska was asleep? 

His dad’s hand was holding Alaska’s, and he looked more peaceful than Alaska had ever seen him. Alaska licked his dry lips, recognizing that the bile and vomit had been cleaned off his face.

Alaska closed his eyes, still feeling tired. Emotionally too.

Alaska knew Hawaii hated him.

He didn’t realize she hated him that much.

And she was so manipulative, too, even having the audacity to say they were still friends. Alaska hated her.

Hate?

He…he did. He did hate her. He had to hate her after all she did. Right?

Alaska shook aside doubts. He couldn’t be weak and decide not to hate her. He had to be strong, hate those who hurt him, and love those who care for him.

“Lask?” Alaska heard his dad’s tired voice say. Alaska opened his eyes again and smiled tiredly at his dad. His dad smiled back, relief clear on his face. “How are you doing, bud?”

“Tired. Arm is sore, but the pain is less.” Alaska answered. His dad nodded.

“That’s good. I’m glad to hear it.” His dad said, putting a hand on Alaska’s forehead as if to check for a fever. Alaska leaned into it, happy that his dad still loved him despite what had happened.

“Why did you stay with me?” Alaska asked. 

“Because you are my son, and you are hurt. I didn’t want to leave you alone after you were injured so badly. And I wanted to make sure you were safe from Hawaii. When you are okay with me leaving, I will, and I’ll make sure that Hawaii never comes near you or your siblings ever again.” His dad said, his voice taking on a dangerous tone.

“You would do that to ensure I don’t get hurt?” Alaska asked. His dad nodded.

“For you, Alaska, I would move heaven and earth to keep you safe,” His dad said. Alaska felt tears appear in his eyes, moved by his dad’s words. His Отец had never said anything like this before. 

Alaska felt warm and happy. He closed his eyes, ready to sleep again.

“You can go talk to Hawaii Папа.” Alaska said, “I’m going to sleep again.”

He felt his dad’s hands brush through his hair again before a kiss was placed on his forehead. 

“Sleep well, Lasky.”

[small-foxy]

DTIYS for Obi-san from instagram + bonus

[hic0di-rp]

pagina 44...

Alaska: welp, it looks like Canadá doesn´t care.

more late that night...

USA: kid?