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Well....that doesn't help.

*I am asking with relation to what I write, not generally.

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One more drabble that was meant for @spaus-week. The prompt was "I'll never forget what you looked like on that night."

Again, I am behind but I wanted to write out my ideas anyway.

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1867

Austria was going through the plan for the day in his head as he opened the door to his chambers. As with any court ceremony, there were so many pieces of choreography that he had to remember. Any small mistake would surely be taken as an affront, and he knew the emperor would not let him forget it.

He was in his chambers walking towards the carefully prepared uniform on the bed when he heard, “Rodrigo?”

He turned on his heel to see Spain sprawled across one of his chaises, looking up at Austria. His green eyes looked melancholy, almost pleading. Austria didn’t understand his presence in the slightest, and asked, “What are you doing here? Guests are not supposed to be up here.”

Spain stood up and said, dodging the question, “Guest? I know the way. These used to be my rooms too.”

Austria didn’t have time for mystery since the festivities were on a tightly controlled schedule, so he replied, “I suppose they were. But that does not answer the question. What are you doing here now?”

In response, he got a strangely pleading look. He saw Spain’s Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed some emotion. Spain spoke, meeting his eyes, “I’ll never forget what you looked like on that night.”

Given the context, he could guess what night Spain was talking about, but he needed to be sure, “What night?”

Spain sighed, clearly frustrated that Austria had not gotten his meaning immediately, “Our wedding night.” He laid a hand softly on the side of Austria’s face, “It was just you and me in this room.”

Austria remembered it well. It was the first moment that he thought that the marriage could perhaps be something more than political convenience. It was a pleasant memory, but he was not certain why Spain was being nostalgic about it. Austria clearly remembered who had initiate the process to dissolve their marriage.

He didn’t withdraw from the touch, but he did say, “Antonio, our annulment was over a century ago. Why come to me now?”

He thought he knew the answer. Though they had been separated in the eyes of the church for so long, he had never remarried. It had been his right to do so, but the politics had never been advantageous enough. Nor had he kept his distance from Spain. There were a smattering of nights over the years that had kept something alive between them.

Perhaps Spain had taken all of that as proof that the soul of their marriage had lasted even after the legal bonds were severed.

Spain affirmed that conclusion when he said, “Yes, but you’ve never-“ He paused and gathered himself before saying, “You never replaced me.”

The phrasing spoke volumes, and Austria could not say that he was surprised. Spain had always been selfish and deeply attached to what he viewed as his. It seemed that he still viewed the place at Austria’s side as his even when the church said otherwise.

What an irony for a pious man.

Austria said, as bluntly as he could manage, “And now I will. Tomorrow I will be married. If you do not wish to see that, you do not have to be there. I invited you as a courtesy.”

He had invited everyone in Europe, though he could admit that extending an invitation to Spain had given him pause. Spain leaned closer and asked, sincerely, “I know.”

Wordlessly, he joined their lips. Austria knew that he should push him away, but he’d always loved the way that it felt when Spain kissed him. Spain said, as he pulled back, “I don’t think I am ready to let you be someone else’s.”

His voice had a rough edge of possession that Austria hadn’t heard for so many years. He hated the feeling it stirred in him, even so long after he first accepted that Spain would leave him.

He bit his lower lip as he thought of what to say. He didn’t want to break Spain’s heart, but he realized he had critically underestimated how much love remained.

He said, shortly, “That isn’t up to you.” Spain made a frustrated noise in the back of his throat, “Couldn’t it be?”

Without waiting for a response, he joined their lips again. Austria kissed him back even though his every rational faculty was telling him not to.

He felt Spain’s hand caress his cheek more lovingly than it had for years. Austria’s heart sank. That touch unmistakably said that if the bond was not severed, Spain not accept that he was remarrying.

You have to do it for both of you.

Austria adopted a harsher tone, “Be realistic, Antonio. Why would I abandon this marriage for the sake of a third-rate power who barely has an empire anymore?”

He knew it would hurt; he knew Spain’s ego was his most sensitive point. He could see the way the man recoiled, so he knew it worked. Spain tried to speak, “But-“

Austria cut him off before he could say something painfully sentimental, “For love? That is irrelevant. I do not marry for love, and you know that perfectly well. You lost what made you worth marrying years ago.”

To make his point even more clearly, he pulled away from Spain’s touch. Before turning away, he said, as clearly and imperiously as he could muster, “This marriage is happening. If you cannot keep yourself from making a scene, I suggest you go back to Madrid. Go lick your wounds there, and do not make it my problem.”

#hws spain #hws austria #spaus #spausweek #I bring you angst #two straight drabbles of angst

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This was originally for the quote prompt for Day 2 of @spaus-week. But I am very behind, so the event is already over. I am still going to post some writing anyway.

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The note was written in such a neat handwriting that Austria knew immediately was not Spain’s. He must have been dictating. It read, “I will return at the end of the month. For now, I send you this piece of my love. The gold and emeralds are from the colonies. I know how you love pretty things.”

It came with a small box that Austria felt remarkably uninterested in. With an air of frustrated boredom, he opened the present to see a ring.

It shimmered in the light from the open window. Anyone else would perhaps have been impressed and spent time admiring the size of the stone or the purity of the gold. It was, after all, certainly expensive.

Austria felt no such inclination.

This was the second letter in a row that Spain had sent insisting that he would have to put off his trip to Vienna because he was busy in the colonies. There seemed to be an unending series of colonial duties that needed his attention or English pirates that he had to chase off.

What had been their regular time together was shrinking into occasional visits, each shorter than the last. Most of the time, Austria tried hard not to think about how profoundly lonely it felt to be an obligation rather than a labor of love.

Spain made that task impossible when he insisted on sending trinkets and gifts like this. It made the distance feel greater and the empty side of the bed colder.

He sighed and closed the box, so he did not have to look at the reminder of all the things Spain was prioritizing.

He remembered their most recent argument so clearly. Spain had raised his voice and said, “You resent that I have an empire because it makes me your equal.”

Austria shut his eyes for a moment and sighed deeply at the memory. He had no illusions about why he had chosen to marry Spain, nor had he ever lied to his husband about it. Faced with the prospect of fighting France, he had needed someone on his side who could fight. He'd chosen a young power on the rise and Spain's attractiveness hadn't even crossed his mind before the wedding night.

But that was not how their marriage stayed. If it had, he wouldn’t have a place in his chest that ached at Spain’s absence. He wouldn’t long to feel those calloused hands caressing his face every morning.

Maybe, he thought, He is right. I do resent his empire.

It was not, however, for the reasons that Spain seemed to think. It had nothing to do with the money or the power, and little bits of wealth would not mollify him.

No, he mused to himself, writing a letter in response that he knew he would never put to paper, No, what you don’t understand, Antonio, is that none of those gems shine brighter than your eyes. You could send me every single thing you mined out of the soil of the New World, and it still wouldn’t be enough. I miss you.

He opened his eyes and glanced around at the waiting courier who had brought him the letter. He beckoned to the man and said, “I need you to take this.”

He deposited the ring box in the man’s hand, “I want you to go offer this to Erzsebet. If she does not want it, give it to Bohemia.” He waved his hand dismissively, “One of them will want it.”  He kept the unspoken words in his mind: I most certainly do not.

#hws austria #spausweek #spaus

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Uh so I made a character bingo if anyone wants to try it (:

#ooooh #I like this one

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*I am asking with relation to what I write, not generally.

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Something short for day 1 of @spaus-week for the Cuddling prompt and the "Tell me every terrible thing you ever did, and let me love you anyway." prompt.

Content Warnings: Mentions of Blood, Religion, very mild hinting at violence

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Austria’s eyes fluttered open at the sound of water splashing. He had fallen asleep waiting for his husband to join him in bed and as he looked around, he realized that the book he had been reading was still sitting open on the bed sheets.

He ran his hand over his face before picking up the book, closing it, and placing it gently aside.

He heard another quiet splash and turned his attention toward the noise. The only light in the room came from a candle that Spain had lit next to the wash basin.

As Austria squinted in his direction, he realized that Spain was scrubbing his hands. Austria said, rubbing his eyes, “Antonio, what are you doing?”

Spain paused, his hands still in the water. He answered, “It’s not important. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

Austria didn’t believe him. It was odd behavior at this hour of night, and Austria’s first thought was that he was cleaning a wound. He threw off the blankets and sat up. Spain pulled his hands out of the water and started to shake the moisture off of them. He then grabbed a linen towel and started to dry his hands.

Austria got out of bed and stepped closer, saying gently, “Do you need help?”

As he stepped closer, he saw that Spain was running the corner of the towel methodically under his fingernails. Spain shook his head emphatically, “No, I just…” He trailed off and Austria wondered what was going through his mind. Spain swallowed hard and said, “There’s blood and I need to get it off.”

Austria tutted and stepped forward to take his hands in his own, “Let me see.”

Spain let him take the hands and examine them, which Austria took as a good sign. There was no injury and, as far as he could tell, no blood. He said, confused, “They’re clean, love.”

In the flickering candlelight, he saw Spain chew his inner lip like he was agonizing. There was some heady emotion in his voice as he said, “They are far from clean.”

His right hand convulsed as if he wanted to pick at his own fingernails some more. He seemed to want to claw away something that was not there.

Austria felt like he understood, “You have never told me about it. Al-Andalus or what happened in the Americas.”

The low light cast shadows on even the smallest line on Spain’s face. The lines of worry were appearing between his eyebrows. Spain spoke, his every word colored with emphatic conviction, “I know that God understands. I know that I did what He asked of me. I know He understands.”

Austria supplied the next word, “But?”

Spain was going to make his lip bleed if he kept biting it like that. He answered, “But I don’t know that you will. My prince, my good fortune. And I will not make you sleep in the same bed as a man with such unclean hands.”

Austria brought Spain’s hands to his lips and kissed them tenderly. He met Spain’s eyes as he said, “My affections are not so fickle, I promise. Come to bed. Tell me every terrible thing you’ve ever done and let me love you anyway.”

Spain nodded and followed his instructions, letting Austria lead him to the bed. Once Austria had put his head comfortably on Spain’s shoulder, he said again, “Unburden your soul to me, and I promise that I will not shy away from you.”

Spain ran a hand through Austria’s hair and sighed deeply, “I fear you will not sleep tonight once I tell you what I’ve seen, what I’ve done.” Austria replied, closing his eyes and listening to Spain's heartbeat, “I do not care.”

#spausweek #hws spain #hws austria #my bad influence knows who they are and I hope they are happy #I'd love to say that I am going to more of these #but I have a ton of irl commitments this week

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i love you betrayals between people who still love each other i love you devotion to the point of destruction i love you selfish choices made in the name of love i love you devastating consequences of those choices

#hmmmm....ruspru

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Hoizer's Eat Your Young is a peak 19th century PruAus song. That is all.

#no tags because this is more of a mild observation on my own playlist #ask me about how Ludwig came to realize that they're both ambitious selfish people #and he's the one in the middle

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explanation for the Austria ask game?

Which part, anon? I just answered the "everyone is wrong about them" in another ask.

If you want another part, let me know.

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How is everyone else wrong about Roderich?

-@iron--and--blood

To be honest, my first impulse when I saw this ask was to answer something along the lines of "doesn't everyone think they're the only right person about their blorbo?" But, since you are asking sincerely, I will try to answer sincerely.

My reticence to discuss why I think other people are wrong is more or less coming from my long term experience in this fandom, which I would sum up as "everyone loves you for providing historical tidbits until you want to tell them that their personal favorite headcanon is wrong." I've had far too many people switch from an interest to "it's not that serious/I don't care about historical accuracy" on me over the years. I keep threatening to write a reflection post about how the experience of going from being a person who is interested in history to an academic studying history really soured my experience of the fandom in ways I could not have anticipated, and maybe some day I actually will. But for now, this isn't that post.

Which is a long-winded way of saying don't let what I'm about to say yuck your yum. And if it does, please don't yell at me about it.

Alright, I think a lot of the way people write PruAus especially do not take Roderich particularly seriously. There is a lot, and I mean a lot, of content that more or less makes him arrogant for the sake of humbling him or making him look comically inept. There's a lot of "he gets his ass kicked and gets seduced by Gilbert."

From a historical perspective, this has got to be coming from a lack of interest in Habsburg history or having only seen the several decades old view that the Habsburg empire was a backwards repressive state fated to fall apart. And that is not the view in any scholarship published in the last ten years or so with one notable exception that I can think of, which had to twist itself into knots to avoid its own contradictions.

And look, professional historians in other fields are regularly bad at discussing the Habsburg empire too. This isn't a fandom specific issue.

To really enjoy someone's take on Roderich, I need them to be taking seriously that he was a Great Power. The Catholic bulwark in the early modern period. The biggest power in Europe when he was married to Spain. The architect of the Concert of Europe. Someone with a rigid court structure and an unmatched sense of grandeur.

He may not be able to fight one-on-one particularly well, but be assured that he is a diplomat par excellence. I need him to be intelligent and witty and capable of negotiating his enemy into a corner when he needs to. He has a skill set that no one else can replicate as well as he can, and he uses it to his advantage. I enjoy PruAus most when it is clear that they respect each other for having the skills the other lacks.

In my opinion, he's at his best when he's using his charm and intelligence to work around his physical limitations. Sadly, the fandom has committed to "uptight and stuffy" in a way that would just not work with his actual track record of marrying his way out of problems.

And anything that makes him out to somehow be the one with less charm or sexual experience than Gilbert of all people is pretty much an immediate no for me. If he can't be forward and confident with his bedroom politics, I'm not that interested.

Also no one else ships him with Poland so it's just me in my corner, but ask me about that in a different ask if you want details.

#not tagging with the character #to avoid the aforementioned yelling at me #I'm rather sorry for being a cranky old lady #I've just found its hard to find anyone in this fandom that wants to talk about history seriously

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anon here. Jesus Almighty! Pruaus and great war? I am in love. Thank you!

I don't know why I forgot to post this. It made my day when I got it, anon.

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Russia for the character bingo?

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SpAus Week 2024 Rules & Prompts [Text Version]

(Main post)

• Use the tag #spausweek and mention @spaus-week in the post;

• You're not required to submit content for each day;

• Please mention which prompt you're creating for;

• All mediums are welcome;

• Content must focus on Spain and Austria;

• M-Rated works are allowed as long as they respect Tumblr guidelines;

• Make sure to tag potential triggers (ie: gore, death, etc ...);

• Angst is allowed;

• That goes without saying so I didn't include it in the pictures, but obviously you must 100% own the creative fanworks you submit. Content generated through the use of AI is not allowed.

Notes

• Modern/Historical AU, as well as Human/Nationverse weren't included in any day to give you freedom to tweak each prompt to either scenario to your liking;

• For each day there's 3 prompts, you may pick one or combine two or more.

• If you have any doubt or question, please send an ask or DM to this blog.

Prompts

Day 1. Apri 20 - Cuddles; - Bakery AU; - «Tell me every terrible thing you ever did, and let me love you anyway.»

Day 2. April 21 - Written in the Stars; - Lawyers AU; - «But none of those gems shine brighter than your eyes.»

Day 3. April 22 - Frogs - Alice in Wonderland AU - «Wow, you're doing a great job. I almost thought that kiss was real.»

Day 4. April 23 - Unspoken Words - King&Knight AU - «When on Earth was the last time you ever fit into that?»

Day 5. April 24 - Pining - Mythology AU (includes AUs such as Angel/Demon) - «I'll never forget what you looked like on that night.»

Day 6. April 25 - Arrangement - Musicians AU - «Bella gerunt alii, tu felix Austria nube.»* (*«Let others wage war, thou, happy Austria, marry.»)

Day 7. April 26 - Free Day

#hmmmm....let's see if I can get myself together in time for this

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Alfred for the bingo!

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Austria for the character bingo!

-@iron—and—blood

Explanations on request.

#hws austria

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Send me some characters if you want.

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If you are a fan fic writer and you're alright with people making fan art of your fic, reblog this 💚