Weltliche Asche (1/?)
anonymous
January 25 2010, 10:56:33 UTC
Anything, OP says. Therefore, anything delivers anon.
The hands in his hair are insistent and unrelenting. Fingers whisper across his scalp, tug sharply at the soft tufts at the base of his neck. More more more more, and it's like drowning in air, choking on his on breath.
"Spread your legs," Russia says and it's not a demand, not a threat. The tongue against his ear is liquid fire, nipping and licking and fucking requesting. He feels like saying something scathing, but the words won't come, not when his throat closes on a low moan. So he opens his legs wide, wider, as wide as they'll go because he needs this, needs it like a junkie needs a fix
( ... )
Weltliche Asche (2a/?)
anonymous
January 26 2010, 08:03:50 UTC
Second part done. I don't really know where I'm going with this, so... Apologies in advance if it seems kinda... convoluted. orzHe breathes into the pillow and smells sex and faint traces of sweat and vodka. The smile that creeps over his face is dark and mordant and he wonders if there are too many teeth showing in it. Russia is long gone. Not that his stays are ever extensive in the first place
( ... )
Weltliche Asche (2b/?)
anonymous
January 26 2010, 08:05:39 UTC
Continued
February 25, 1947"What the fuck do you mean, you want to abolish me?" Gilbert can barely contain the rage in his voice, and that in itself is playing with fire. Ivan is surprisingly lenient when it comes to his latest acquisition, but Gilbert knows full well that the other nation doesn't take well to outbursts of any kind. He has seen Lithuania's scars and Latvia's trembling and that is lesson enough
( ... )
Weltliche Asche (3a?)
anonymous
January 27 2010, 15:35:04 UTC
Yes, another update. I am very much aware of the fact that a) I have nothing better to do with my time, and b) that this fic is eating my brain.Russia's kisses are soft, slow and thoughtful. They turn his legs to water; make him want to bite down on that smooth tongue until both of their mouths are filled with the coppery taste of blood. He hates that Russia makes him wait, hates even more that he needs this so goddamn badly. Patience has never been his forté and Russia chuckles breathlessly into his mouth when he starts ripping buttons off and stripping zippers. "Замедлитесь, мое домашнее животное†," Russia cooes when he breaks the kiss trying to unbuckle the other's belt buckle one-handedly
( ... )
Weltliche Asche (3b/?)
anonymous
January 27 2010, 15:36:56 UTC
continued
October 11, 1949Gilbert tugs at the sleeves of the plain brown suit he has been forced to wear. It chafes and makes him itch. "Is something the matter, comrade?" Ivan bends down and asks, still smiling at the crowd cheering mindlessly below the stage. Gilbert frowns and shifts away as much as he dares. They are standing far enough back from all the hype and attention that no one would notice save Ivan. In front of him, Pieck waves at his supporters. The old man looks stately, dependable and Gilbert's stomach gives a sickening lurch
( ... )
Re: Weltliche Asche (3b/?)
anonymous
January 27 2010, 16:21:01 UTC
I'm loving this story, and I hope you'll continue to have nothing better to do with your time ;)
By the way, I'm kind of at loss since it's on the "anything with Russia/Prussia" request, how would you like this story summarized on the Russia/Prussia index?
Firstly, thank you! And secondly... Well, as far as I can tell, my headcanon is trying to tell Gilbo's lifestory with some RuPru smut thrown in. o_O;; IDEK, whatever you think sums it up best? Leaving it as RuPru - anything? I'll leave it to you. *salutes*
Re: Hmmm...
anonymous
January 27 2010, 18:28:01 UTC
I'll do that later today then :)
I must admit I really enjoy Hetalia fics with real historical people featured.. Very interesting if Prussia is actually going to met up with Stalin later on.
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The hands in his hair are insistent and unrelenting. Fingers whisper across his scalp, tug sharply at the soft tufts at the base of his neck. More more more more, and it's like drowning in air, choking on his on breath.
"Spread your legs," Russia says and it's not a demand, not a threat. The tongue against his ear is liquid fire, nipping and licking and fucking requesting. He feels like saying something scathing, but the words won't come, not when his throat closes on a low moan. So he opens his legs wide, wider, as wide as they'll go because he needs this, needs it like a junkie needs a fix ( ... )
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F5 F5 F5 F5 F5 F5 F5 F5 F5 F5 F5 F5 F5 F5 F5
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waiting for a next part.
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February 25, 1947"What the fuck do you mean, you want to abolish me?" Gilbert can barely contain the rage in his voice, and that in itself is playing with fire. Ivan is surprisingly lenient when it comes to his latest acquisition, but Gilbert knows full well that the other nation doesn't take well to outbursts of any kind. He has seen Lithuania's scars and Latvia's trembling and that is lesson enough ( ... )
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October 11, 1949Gilbert tugs at the sleeves of the plain brown suit he has been forced to wear. It chafes and makes him itch. "Is something the matter, comrade?" Ivan bends down and asks, still smiling at the crowd cheering mindlessly below the stage. Gilbert frowns and shifts away as much as he dares. They are standing far enough back from all the hype and attention that no one would notice save Ivan. In front of him, Pieck waves at his supporters. The old man looks stately, dependable and Gilbert's stomach gives a sickening lurch ( ... )
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By the way, I'm kind of at loss since it's on the "anything with Russia/Prussia" request, how would you like this story summarized on the Russia/Prussia index?
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I must admit I really enjoy Hetalia fics with real historical people featured.. Very interesting if Prussia is actually going to met up with Stalin later on.
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