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moskat-22 · 5 years

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Well shit, never thought I’d get tagged for something like this.

Nickname: Kat, or any other variant one can think of.

Zodiac Sign: Aquarius.

Last Movie Watched: I honestly cannot remember the last movie I’ve seen.

Last Thing Googled: Paladins Twitter

Favorite Musician: ...I have a few, um. Utada Hikaru, Kerli, Imogen Heap, Halsey, Snail’s House and Skrillex to name a few.

Song Stuck In Head: CURRENTLY, that goes to Don’t Think Twice by Utada Hikaru.

Other Blogs: @home-of-the-ascended, that be my Paladins blog.

Get Any Asks: Er...no, not really.

Blog Follower/Following Count:

Following - 123; Followers: 139 total, 39 on this blog and 100 on the other.

Sleep Hours: That varies, but it usually ends up being around 7-9 hours.

Lucky Number: 2.

Wearing: A KH shirt with Anti-Form Sora on it. No pants. Fuck pants.

Dream Job(s): Voice acting, making games, playing music for said games.

Dream Trip(s): I wanna go to Moscow and/or St. Petersburg someday.

Favorite Food: I don’t have a favorite singular food...but I do like corn on the cob. A lot.

Play Any Instruments: Violin, was learning how to play the Piano in school, and singing counts right?

Languages: English, I want to learn Russian and Japanese though.

Favorite Songs: Snowfall, Rainy, and Fuka Fuka Ofutan by Snail’s House, Have You Got It In You and Hide and Seek by Imogen Heap, The Creationist and Creepshow by Kerli, Calorie and Carbon by Dasu, Obey and 5 Seconds by Aku P, Exorsism, Hyperdontia, and Animalistic by Creep-P, Novocaine, Colorbars, and Housewife Radio by Ghost-P; these are just a few of them.

Random Fact: Stalin was a huge fan of American western movies, more specifically movies based around cowboys and the wild west. From what I can recall, at least.

Describe Yourself as Aesthetic Things: Well fuck, I’m not very good with aesthetics. If I had to say, imagine bundling up in a warm cabin with a fire in the fireplace as you’re playing Slime Rancher just relaxing. Or, something. Again, I’m not good with aesthetics and whatnot, sorry.

I’ll Tag (though you don’t have to if you don’t want to): @dezumint, @silver-s-blog, @mushi-wushi, @aliart-k

Answer 21 questions, and then tag 21 people you want to know better

I was tagged by Teddy uwu

Nickname: Arc, Ver, Santa, Tino, Cryptid, Nerd, Bitch, there are more that come and go but I can’t remember them

Zodiac sign: Aquarius!!

Last movie you watched: Spiderman: In to the Spiderverse

Last thing you googled: “I’m sorry search history but I had to” (something I had to google after the uhhhh cursed thing I looked up)

Favourite Musician: Oh good gosh uhhh currently?? Uh. Hot Chelle Ray I guess. But I??? Really don’t know???? It kinda depends

Song stuck in your head: Lights Down Low-MAX, gnash

Other blogs: nopeee this is the only one that matters (I might make a side blog though???? but idk)

Do you get asks: Uhhhh depends really. I get waves, like I did last night, or I’m bare for weeks

Blogs following: 290! Damn that’s kinda small whoops

Amount of sleep: Hah! Like I know. I go between none at all in a week to getting like six hours

Lucky number: Seven

Wearing: A black hoodie that’s actually really soft surprisingly, and capri leggings. And I don’t know if this counts but like there are three blankets on top of me

Dream job(s): Child/Family Psychologist, Social Worker, Adoption Counselor, Tech Services Person Thing

Dream trip: Uhhh I mean there’s the two week Europe trip that’s still the biggest dream I’ve ever created, that I’ve been working on for a year now. But I really want to see the gate entrance in Munich

Favourite food: Oh gosh I have to pick. Probably Manicotti, I really like making the cheese

Play any instruments: Not since fifth grade, but viola. I cold easily pick it up again though, if I had access to one

Languages: English, German, Polish greetings, I can understand basic Norwegian in context, tiny bit of Finnish

Favourite songs: Ophelia-The Lumineers, Shake It-Metro Station, Whore-Get Scared, Tonight Tonight-Hot Chelle Ray, Amerika-Rammstein, and that’s all I can think of off the top of my head

Random fact: The phrase senatus populusque romanus was adopted by the German States after the fall of Rome. senatus populusque hamburgus (Germany) and senatus populusque haarlem (Nederlands) are among the ones plastered around cathedrals

Describe yourself as aesthetic things: The falling leaves at the start of Autumn, the feel of powdered snow, the violent orange rays of sunshine that shine over your cheeks in the morning, fields of flowers you pass on long car rides

Tagging: okayyyyy so @lexyandere @uncreative-lesbian-bitch @actualdemonbianca @doodle-famous @iced-mocaccino @tabithathepanda and that’s all that I can think of uwuuu

#I got tagged #not hetalia related but hey #that’s fine

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moskat-22 · 6 years

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Hopefully nothing like this happens to any of you all, but in case that does happen to someone you really care about, or if it happens to you, then please remember these steps.

#serious post #please be careful out there

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moskat-22 · 6 years

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Incase some of you are wondering:

I have a Paladins tumblr, home-of-the-ascended, so please don’t get confused if this account answers an ask or something rather than the other.

Thought you guys would like to know that, if it causes any issues.

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moskat-22 · 6 years

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Silence

The room falls into a piercing silence. A hostile voice yells at you, complaining about the volume of your own voice as you play away with your games. They complain about how loud you are.

Constantly.

It never ends.

In your earlier years, you remember another voice telling you to keep your voice down before going to a friend’s house. You remember doing your best to keep your volume minimalistic. You try not to get too excited.

It eventually failed you, not that your hosts minded.

You think back to binging your favorite games with close friends who live states away from you, chatting with one another through mics and headsets. A younger voice bringing up the same issue, “You’re being too loud, keep it down,” before heading back to where they came. You remember falling silent after that, reassuring your friends that it’s a normal, every day thing.

So why does it bother you?

Why bring yourself into tears when it’s something you can fix?

But you can’t. It isn’t your fault.

The older voices constantly hound on you, yet you vividly remember how loud they’d get. The male voice screams and hollers at players who can’t hear him while the older female voice is loud in general. They don’t seem to mind being loud.

You never asked to be loud, it just happens. People say you are “naturally” loud. It doubles in volume when you talk about something that excites you. You can’t control your volume until you are aware of the noise you’re making. You fall silent every time you catch yourself, or try to speak softer, if anything.

So why beat yourself up over it?

It sucks being told to watch your volume. You try your best, yet it never works.

It’s fine, though. Being told off for being loud whilst expressing yourself isn’t as bad as it could be. Just take a moment to collect yourself. Breathe, and let the moment pass. Get a drink of water and take some time to relax.

All you can do is try.

Even if it doesn’t work out in the end.

#personal problem #i’m fine #short story rant #just blowing off some steam

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moskat-22 · 6 years

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All in the Past

Yao walked down the corridor of the hallway dragging his feet across the carpeting. His hair was sticking up, there were visible dark circles under his eyes, and he was muttering quite heatedly underneath his breath. Not that his clothes appeared any better - wrinkles popped out at anyone who so much as glanced at him. Despite his horrible mood, and sour tongue, the Chinese nation begrudgingly made his way to the assigned room for their first meeting of the new year. He wasn’t in the mood to listen to four hours of constant stupidity. Nails on a chalkboard sounded better than the screaming and bickering he’s always endured during these events. At least he can get some work done whilst listening to the dreaded grating sound effect.

Yao barely prepared himself for the cacophony of head splitting ruckus that pounded his ear drums. Stunned for merely seconds upon opening the door, the brunet quickly recovered and made his way to his assigned seat without so much as being noticed by the others. Once seated, Yao let out a hushed sigh. The suitcase he lugged with him on this trip was expertly opened and emptied of its few contents; an old notebook, some spare sheets of blank paper, a few pens, a pocketsized coloring book with various coloring supplies (mainly for extremely long meetings or to relieve stress during any breaks), a book he read from time to time, and a few bags of candies to snack on in secret. The suitcase was then closed and placed underneath the chair. With his things ready, amber eyes glanced over the faces of his fellow nations.

The Axis, er, former Axis Powers still sat around each other. Even Gilbert was sitting with them, smack dab in between his brother and the Northern Italian. Watching Kiku’s face light up as he joined in Ludwig and Feli’s conversations made Yao smile a tad bit. Drifting away from them came the Baltic trio chatting quietly to themselves, the rest of the Eastern Europeans whom were growing impatient with the delay, Yao shared a few smiles with his own family when their gazes met, and finally landed on the former Allied Forces. Alfred, Arthur, and Francis were still doing what they do best: arguing over petty things and making most of the noise he was used to by now. And Ivan was...

Yao blinked. “No,” he muttered under his breath, “that can’t be right.” Blinking thrice, the oldest nation stared at where Ivan should be sitting. Or, he was, but he wasn’t at the same time. Dressed in a blue Soviet uniform lined with gold trims and a cap to match, the Russian looked out of place in a room full of modern countries. He looked as though he was a century behind everyone else. Yao grimaced, his vision must be starting to fail him. Ivan hated that uniform, he despised everything that uniform stood for and the tragedies he was forced to endured. Ivan felt trapped wearing it.

Like he was caged.

And Weak.

And Helpless.

And...

“Is everything alright, Yao? You look a bit under the weather today, are you getting enough sleep?”

Amber eyes glanced up to meet with, not purple, but pink eyes instead. The intensity of the other’s stare sent a chill down Yao’s spine. Ivan’s eyes lacked any emotion, they were lifeless, and hollow, yet held the Chinese nation’s attention. They were somber, not quite regretful nor were they proud. It was a subtle mix of the morbidity that is death and the peace of being freed from immortality that confused the Asian country. Hearing the Russian’s voice sound as hollow as his gaze further added to his confusion. Yao cleared his throat with a quiet cough or two, unsure if he was imagining things or if Ivan was actually speaking to him. Sparing a second to glance around the room, he saw no one had even acknowledged Ivan’s voice, or his presence to be exact.

“I...I-I did stay up later than intended, I had to finish some paperwork before I left for today’s meeting. They would have been late beforehand and my Boss would scold me about it.”

“Is that so?”

Ivan rested his elbows on top of the table and intertwined his fingers, resting his chin atop his interlaced digits. He didn’t appear to be affected by the blonds shouting right next to him, nor did he seem to care that they were even there in the room. In fact, the Russian didn’t pay any attention to anyone else aside from Yao. Flat colored pinks scanned the items that were placed before the old country, then returned to his face. A false smile clung to his lips, cold as ice.

“I forgot how serious you were. About these meetings, I mean. Always one to take notes, even if everyone ends up fighting and arguing in the end. You still manage to get something out of these things.”

Once again, Yao finds himself glancing around the table with slight worry. No one notices this rather personal conversation he’s having with Ivan. That, or they’re actually minding their own businesses for once in god knows how long. Eventually, his gaze returns to Ivan and the smile on his face. Yao’s hit with another chill.

“You’re awfully talkative today, Ivan. Did you have a good dream for once?”

His smile grows in size, but not by much. Ivan pushes himself out of his chair and slowly makes his way across the room. With every step he takes, however, the temperature of the room seems to drop drastically. The chatter is eventually drown out by white static as time virtually stops all together. Yao was leaning back as far as his chair could let him as Ivan now towered over him, stealing and capturing his attention for himself. A pristine gloved hand reached down to play with a few strands of hair that fell out of the Chinese male’s ponytail, only to retrack with speckles of crimson and brown.

“Silly Yao, I do not have dreams anymore, remember? Even if I did, they would be crushed just like the rest of mine. Isn’t that right?”

“Y-You...you’re not Ivan.”

A hollow laugh answered him. Yao suddenly growls.

“Why are you here, Viktor? What purpose do you have torturing me with your existence?”

“I thought you missed me, so I decided to pay you a visit. Though, I guess I was always bad with my timing.”

Viktor laughed again. Yao didn’t. Catching his breath, the Russian straightened himself up. Looking down at the older nation, he stepped back to give him some space. It didn’t take long to hear the sound of a person shifting upright in their chair. When he looked back, he was taken aback by the glare he was receiving.

“What’s with the harsh look? I’m doing nothing wrong.”

“Leave me alone. You know damn well why.”

Something akin to despair flashes in the Russian’s eyes.

“No, wait, please let me stay a little longer–“

“I want you gone. You were nothing more than a virus, a parasite that leeched off of its host until they died! Ivan is no longer the same because of you, he didn’t remember us when he came back to us! You killed him and damned the rest of this planet!”

Clear tears formed in the corners of Viktor’s eyes, reflecting the pinks of his irises. They fell from his cheeks tinted a slight muddled-red hue.

“I never meant for things to get as bad as they did! I had no control over it, I am not the one at fault! Why are you blaming me? Why are you agreeing with them now?!”

Both nations lose their tempers, spitting spiteful words at one another. They hurt and sting and ache, yet they continue until one of them gives in. Finally, the pent up anger bubbling within them release with an explosion. Viktor, who’s appearance has deteriorated slowly over the course of the argument, was suddenly in Yao’s face, jabbing his fingers into his chest.

“You swore you’d always have my back and defend me from the rest of the world! YOU, Yao, YOU swore to protect me! I believed you, every damn word! Look where that got me, nothing but betrayals and backstabs and DEATH! I DIED believing you! ‘Everything will be alright, Ivan, I’m right here, I’ve got you. I’ll still be here when you return!’ Does any of that ring a bell!? I never should have put my trust in you!”

Yao rose to his feet, slamming his hands against the table top. Hot tears streamed down the sides of his face as the memory of consoling the dying Russian in his arms, fueling his outburst towards the Soviet Union.

“I swore to protect Ivan, NOT you! You were the VERY THING I was trying to save him from! Greed, power, bloodlust, everything! Not once did you show me any good will, you tormented everyone! You scared Ivan’s own family! By the time I realized what was happening, he had already lost the fight for control and gave you full command. I shouldn’t have comforted you as you were collapsing. I should have left you to die alone in the snow!”

All chatter had ceased as Yao’s outburst filled the room. Everyone’s eyes were now on the panting brunet hunched over the table side, watching his tears slip down his cheeks and onto the table top in complete and utter shock. No one made a move, worry filling their confused glances at one another. Finally, after what felt like an hour, a chair was carefully pushed back to allow the nation to rise to their feet. Soft footsteps approached the hostile nation until they were close enough to speak softly to him. A warm, albeit worried, smile and concerned purple eyes invaded Yao’s vision, pulling the man back to reality.

“Is something bothering you, Yao? You look like you could use some extra sleep, those circles look almost as dark as Kiku’s eyes.”

A soft “Hey!” came from the offended nation, yet no one else made a sound. They were divided on what to do; chime in, or let Ivan do the talking. The majority stayed silence as those who did move, namely the other Asian nations, left their seats to comfort their brother. The Chinese male sniffled and wiped his eyes before chuckling quietly. He leaned forward until his forehead pressed against Ivan’s chest, his arms coming up to wrap around his torso. A soft chuckle passed Ivan’s lips as he returned the hug he got from nowhere. One leather-gloved hand went up to gently pet Yao’s frazzled hair down and his other wrapped around his back to hold him close.

“Let it out. He isn’t here anymore, ok? You kept your promise...Soviet Union isn’t coming back, I promise.”

Yao fully believed those words as he leaned into the warm body holding him close. This wasn’t Viktor. This wasn’t the man who was feared by all, he wasn’t out for blood or power, he isn’t corrupted by greed or the government. This was the Ivan he knew. The Ivan everyone knew. He wasn’t going anywhere any time soon. Leaning into the embrace, the brunet shifted around until he could rest his chin on the Russian’s shoulder. The tension in the room began to die down as they saw the improvement in Yao’s behavior, the chatter slowly filling the room to lighten the mood further.

Things quickly resumed as seats were reclaimed and the meeting was postponed for another thirty minutes so everyone can relax, hopefully. Yao spent that time with Ivan, talking about his recent nightmares and learning about Ivan’s worsening insomnia. They had a few laughs now and then, they even made a plan to meet up next week for some quality time together, but the majority of time was spent comforting the other. The older male would shift around and glance about the room on high alert, but Ivan would always try and steal his attention with a good joke or a sudden compliment. And every time Yao looked at the space behind Ivan, there Viktor would be. Hiding in the shadows with his frozen smile and dead eyes.

Viktor may be dead, but his spirit was forever a part of Ivan.

#aph hetalia #aph russia #aph soviet union #aph china #I’ll start tagging main characters rather than every single person mentioned #it’s been an hour since I typed this bad boy #oh man #it’s all thanks to some youtube vid too #god it hurt so much #but I loved it #enjoy!#short story

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moskat-22 · 6 years

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The Newspaper Club

I trail behind my best friend as he leads me around school hallways and down staircases. The whole time, I’m wondering why I was even following him in the first place. Oh right, Feliciano wanted me to check out some clubs before I graduated this year. He recently became a member of the Newspaper Club, despite his dissinterest in reading. I always wondered why Feli, of all people, would join a club that requires you to read. Not only that, but I heard members also had to take turns writing their own articles, too. The majority of the school only ever reads the school newspapers for the short stories in the very back few pages anyways. It just feels like a deadend club to join.

Feliciano: “OK! We’re here! Eh? Are you even paying attention, [MC]?”

I blink dumbly in response. He sighs, his shoulders sinking along with his odd curl.

Feliciano: “Ahh, nevermind. It’s not like this clubroom isn’t too hard to find on your own. It’s got the club insignia on the door, see?”

True to his word, there’s a small symbol hanging above the doorway. It’s shaped like a newspaper bundle dangling by the knot of the strings keeping the seperate newspapers together. It was kind of cute how it swayed with the smallest breeze.

MC: “I see...so, what makes you think I’ll like this club over the others?”

Feliciano had to think for a second. In the end, he simply shrugged his shoulders and gave me a dorky grin.

Feliciano: “I-I guess you might like...the things we do?”

Even Feli didn’t trust his answer. Still, I didn’t want to abandon him. He did drag me all this way to show me his club. The least I could do is pay it, and his fellow club members, a visit. Without another word, the Italian pushed open the doors and let me in. I gazed around the room and immediately found the other members staring at me with bewildered eyes. I glanced at Feliciano as he joined my side once the doors were shut behind him. Clearing his throat, my neighborhood friend gestured to me with both of this hands and a large grin.

Feliciano: “Everyone! I’d like you to welcome my dear neighbor and friend, [MC]! She’ll just visiting, but she might join us too! Make her feel welcome, I’ll be back with today’s articles!”

Before I could stop him, Feliciano disappeared back into the hallway. The doors shut and sealed me inside the clubroom. I could hear the other members having a hushed conversation behind me until they rose one by one. I half expected them to ambush me since I was probably the first girl they had the chance to speak to for a long time. Luckily, they all appeared to be well mannered and approached me leisurely.

Male 1: “Do not look so scared, we are not pack of wild animals. Please relax, take free seat.”

The first member speaking to me is a tall man with short platinum blond hair and purple eyes. He also wore the blue varient of the male’s school uniform, and on top of it, wore an old cream colored scarf around his neck. The tails of the scarf nearly reached down to the floor and seemed to...move on their own? As if the scarf tails were weird enough, the way this man spoke was bizarre. His English was broken, but I could make put what he was trying to say. The tall student let out a quiet, amused chuckle as he watched the gears in my head.

Male 1: “Ahh, do not worry. They just appear to have mind of their own. Is just a simple handmade scarf. See?”

As the tall student shakes the dangling ends of his scarf to prove that, yes, it was just a regular scarf, I couldn’t help the smile that grew on my face. This guy’s accent was really thick. It was actually hard to tell what he was saying sometimes. His accent would make some words blend together into a mushy blob that I couldn’t figure out. It was kind of annoying, being unable to understand what this guy was trying to say sometimes. As if reading my mind, the next student steps beside the foreign student and gives him a pat on the back.

Male 2: “Here, lemme help you out,”

The second student to introduce himself wore the tan varient of the male’s school uniform, but he also wore a brown bomber jacket over his vest. He has bright blue and blond hair that reminds me of the color of the sun. There’s also a pair of reading glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose and a cowlick that defied gravity. Continuing with introductions, the teen pointed his thumb at himself before shifting to gesture towards his tall partner beside him.

Alfred: “The name’s Alfred, and this here’s Ivan. He’s actually a transfer student from Russia, so his English is a bit rocky. It’s pretty good though.”

Upon being called out, Ivan pulls up his scarf and tries his best to hide behind the fabric. Alfred simply laughs and gives him a few more back pats before returning his attention to me.

Alfred: “So, what’s a girl such as yourself doing here at the Newspaper Club? I’m pretty sure you’d find more excitement elsewhere, say, the Drama Club or the Cooking Club.”

At least they’re being honest. I didn’t expect an actual member of this club to come clean about how dull it was. I shrug my shoulders and speak my mind.

MC: “I wasn’t brought here because I was interested or anything, it’s just, Feli wanted me to check it out. He’s a part of this club, so I thought maybe I’d check it out and see what the whole fuss about it was. I guess I thought, I don’t know, for it to be a little more interesting.”

The looks I got were heartbreaking. I mean, yeah, the Newspaper Club sounded pretty bland and boring, but the way Ivan and Alfred reacted to my words hurt more than I thought. Ivan shifted on his feet and glanced at the floor, his hands catching the ends of his scarf to keep his hands busy. I couldn’t tell if he was mad or sad with what I said, he had half his face buried behind his scarf. Alfred, on the other hand, was disheartened. He gave me a buttersweet smile, confirming what I said was true. Collecting my apologies, I opened my mouth to make amends with the duo.

MC: “I’m...I’m sorr-”

Male 3: “Our club may not be interesting to you, but it’s everything to us. I understand why you’d think so little of our club, but please refrain from saying your thoughts aloud for us to hear. It’s quite rude.”

Alfred and Ivan stepped aside to let the third member approach me, his words having cut through my heart like a sharpened knife. I didn’t mean to sound so dismissive. I can only imagine what my words meant to them.

MC: “I-I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking. I didn’t mean anything bad with what I said, I probably could have worded it better.”

Looking at the two students who’ve introduced themselves earlier, I look at the last remaining member. He was taller than Alfred, yet shorter than Ivan by a few centimeters, from what I could tell. He had slicked back blond hair, steely blue eyes, and a powerful German accented voice. The man stood with perfect posture, as well. He was definitely well respected by the other members of the club, or feared. He sighed and held out his right hand for me to shake.

Ludwig: “Allow me to introduce myself. I am Ludwig, Vice President of the Newspaper Club. If you just so happen to join our club, don’t hesitate to talk to me about any new ideas or activities you might like to see. I can discuss them with the President of the club and with the other members until we all come to an agreement. Other than that, feel free to visit if you wish. We do appreciate visitors.”

Ludwig gives me a small smile as he withdraws his hand. He looks between Alfred and Ivan, nods his head at me, then turns back to reclaim his seat at one of the three long tables. Alfred seconds him, but pulls a book from one of the book shelves to skim through as they wait from Feli to return with their things. I’m left standing with Ivan, who seems to be recovering from the blow I said about the club. I give him a hesitant smile.

MC: “Are you ok? I’m sorry for what I said earlier.”

Ivan peeks at me from behind his scarf. He lets the fabric fall into place before tucking his hands into his pants pockets.

Ivan: “I am fine, yes. Ah, Fredya is helping me with English, so...”

I smile patiently at him. I can only imagine how hard this was for him. Learning English after knowing Russian must’ve been very difficult.

MC: “I can always help too, if you’d want. It shouldn’t be too hard, and you seem to have a decent grasp on the language anyways. You’ll have it down in no time.”

A faint blush colors Ivan’s cheeks as he struggles to come up with something to say. In the end, he just buries his burning face back into his scarf whilst muttering something in, all I can assume, was Russian. I watch the tallest of the three sit back down with the other two, dealing with another round of back pats from Alfred and a few words from Ludwig. Watching them, I can see why Feli would like this club. Everyone was friendly and there for one another. I eventually take a seat for my own and join the trio, learning about their next activity.

After an hour or so passes, the doors open up to reveal Feliciano stumbling in with a large stack of papers in his hands. Ludwig and Alfred immediately get up to help him out while Ivan clears the table tops of any stray books and papers. All the while, the auburn student is apologizing for the wait.

Feliciano: “I-I’m so sorry guys! I thought the printer was free, but no! There were some things the teachers were printing off last minute and then the printer jammed when I tried using it, and when it started to work, I accidentally punched in an extra zero while I was adding the number of copies we needed! Ahh, I’m so clumbsy! Why am I even President of this club again?”

Ludwig: “You’re the President because you created this club! Now be careful, you’ll tip over the stack if you keep holding it like that.”

Very carefully, Ludwig and Alfred slipped their arms underneath the large tower of newspaper, freeing Feliciano’s arms in the process. The Italian sat down to give himself a short break while the other three worked to sort the sheets. I watch the process in amazement. I thought the paper stack would remain for another 10 minutes, but the trio had sorted out the seperate sheets in no less than 4 minutes. Once they had finished, they all took their seats for a breather.

Feliciano: “Oh, [MC], I didn’t know you were still here. I thought you would have left by now.”

MC: “Ahh, about that...”

I glance at the three blonds panting in their seats, their hands and arms covered with small knicks and cuts from handling all those papers. Alfred and Ivan seemed to brighten up a bit, even though I hadn’t said much. Ludwig even looked visibly better with what I was about to say.

Feliciano: “Hmm? What? What? Why’re you all smiling like that?”

MC: “I think I’ll like being a part of your club, President Feliciano.”

Feliciano: “...wait, WHAT!? Oh my god, you’re joking! You’re actually joining the Newspaper Club!?”

I give Feli my trademark smile. In a split second, I feel arms throw themselves around my body as my neighbor and best friend throws himself at me for a hug. He couldn’t stop the squeal that filled the room, and my poor ears, but he was happy with my answer. I look at the other members and see their reactions as well. While not as exaggerated as their President’s, each member had their own little moment of excitement for a new addition. I already feel at home with everyone here. With a little elbow grease and printing ink, I might just become friends with these guys, if not more. For now, I’ll just take things easy and follow my gut. Good fortune may rain down my way if I make the right choices.

If selling my soul to the Newspaper Club is all it takes to get close those those four cute guys, then I’d better start today’s assignment. Who knows, I might just impress someone with what I write about...

#aph hetalia #ddlc #aph x ddlc crossover #i’m surprised this hasn’t been thought of yet #gakuen hetalia #the crossover no one asked for #aph america #aph germany #aph italy #aph russia #this was actually really fun to write #have fun #please enjoy #short story

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moskat-22 · 6 years

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Because I’ve been playing Paladins...

Germany - Tank champions mostly, prefers to play as Ash and Ruckus. Occasionally plays Damage if someone offers to be tank for a few games.

Japan - Alternates between Damage and Flank champions; favorite champions include Willo, Talus, and Cassie to name a few.

Italy - Flank champions exclusively; Maeve is his favorite, unsurprisingly. Skye is his trap card, however.

Romano - Damage champions, specifically Vivian. He also plays as a tank champ occasionally, although very rarely.

Prussia - Flank and Damage champions; has no prefered favorite, but he does enjoy playing as Tyra.

America - Damage champions only. He is a monster with Viktor, IF he gets to use him.

England - Flanks or Support champions, though it teeters more towards Flanks. Lex is his go-to.

France - When in doubt, he’s got your tank. Inara and Makoa tend to be his prefered champs.

Canada - Support champions, actually. His Seris is nearly impossible to kill.

China - Damage and Flank, not that surprising. He finds Lian and Zhin to be somewhat offensive, but he mains them anyways.

Russia - Support and Tank champions, who’d have thought. Everyone fears his Jenos, everyone.

#out of the blue #paladins champions of the realm #aph hetalia #slight mashup?#might make a short story based off this #who knows

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moskat-22 · 6 years

Text

Another one.

I think I’m coming down with a cold.

Another one.

I just recovered from one a few weeks back.

Oh well, I hope you guys are enjoying the holidays and whatnot.

Happy Early New Years, too!

#personal #not really #i hate getting sick #take care of yourselves #unlike me #excuses to stay in bed though

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moskat-22 · 6 years

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Practice

Feliciano: And you put the sause in once it’s done! See? It isn’t that hard.

Ivan: Uh...

Ivan: Feli.

Ivan: I don’t think I did it right.

Feliciano: Hmm? What do you me–WHAT THE HELL IS THAT.

*strange gargling sounds mixed with the screams of the damned come from the crocker pot*

Feliciano: WHAT THE FUCK IVAN.

Feliciano: It was a simple pasta recipe.

Feliciano: FOR. FUCKING. PASTA.

Ivan: ...

Feliciano: Do you have anything to say for yourself?

Ivan: ...

Feliciano: Anything at all?

Ivan: ...is it edible?

Ivan: Feli? Where are you—

*front door slams shut*

Ivan: ...I guess more for me.

#have this excuse for something #aph russia #aph italy #spaghetti monster #idk what this is #it just came to me on a whim

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moskat-22 · 6 years

Text

A Civil Conversation

The last thing Ivan could remember clearly is the droning sound of Arthur babbling about some political nonsense that no one is going to pay attention to. He knew meetings could get tedious, but it never to got the point where he would just fall asleep in the middle of one. Meetings were always this drawn out and filled to the brim with the usual “let’s focus on helping out each other as fellow nations rather than being complete asses to one another,” it was the same thing every month or two. Rinse and repeat. Yet, the Russian never fell asleep. He always managed to get through the meetings, yes, but was he paying attention half the time? No. They usually became nothing more than a fuzzy memory in the back of his head, never to be thought of or referenced again.

So why was this time different?

The platinum blond awoke slowly, like he was waking up with the world’s worst hangover. His head throbbed and there was this muffled voice that was either saying something to him, or laughing at his misery. Either way, Ivan could conclude that this was a rude awakening. He sat up in his assigned chair, rubbing his eyes sleepily before blinking. The room was unusually dark and it appeared no one else was in the room with him. He turned around and stared out the windows. It, too, was strangely dark. The Russian forced himself out of his seat and approached the window, attempting to spot the time of day based on the sun’s positioning in the sky. However, there was no sun, nor moon, hanging above. It was eerily vacant of any light source. He took a step back.

The throbbing in Ivan’s head lightened up, just a bit, to make it bearable. Hands went into coat pockets and his right hand felt a strange rectangular object, his phone. Whipping it out, gloved thumbed went to quickly type in the password only to freeze in place. The power button was pressed, then it was held. Nothing. It remained black screened, much to Ivan’s disappointment. His last resort was an electrical clock that hung on the wall, but it seemed to have been...forcefully removed. All that remained of it were the wires that sparked occasionally, the electricity flowing through the currents having no where else to escape.

Ivan began to feel uneasy. He decided to focus on figuring out the time later, for know, he had to find the others. Being along for too long tended to come with its fair share of negative effects, especially for nation kind. The tall male strode across the room until he reached the double doors and swiftly went to pull them open. The doors remained still. Then they were pushed. The doors didn’t budge. The Russian was beginning to panic, tugging at the doorknobs with all his might, hoping to break the doors off their hinges if he had to. They remained stuck where they were, taunting him with their presence.

He felt trapped. There was no way to escape. No way to tell time, to contact anyone, to leave. He was stuck in this room, all alone with nothing more than his own thoughts, and that scared him. It genuinely terrifies him. The silence pierced through his soul and ate away at his conscience, the need to make noise or say something to keep this defeaning quietness at bay becoming a stronger urge by the second. Ivan felt his loneliness suffocating him, the lack of company served as a permanent reminder that he had no one to talk to. His form collapsed to the floor as tears flooded his vision. He curled in on himself, hands covering his ears as if to block the harmful silence that persisted to torment him. Ivan wanted to scream, cry out for the others, ask them to come back, to stay by his side, don’t leave him alone like this.

And he did.

He yelled.

He sobbed.

He begged.

Nothing but silence greeted him. Ivan couldn’t keep the tears at bay anymore. He didn’t want this. He didn’t want to be alone anymore. He wanted company, he wanted friends, he wanted to be loved. What was he doing wrong? What did everyone else have that Ivan didn’t? He had a heart, he had a soul, he was just like them. They left him though, never inviting him along for anything fun. He was never asked if he wanted to go to a bar with others, he was never invited to parties and celebratory events, he didn’t have anyone to go to to hang out with after these things. Yet he still holds onto that hope. But even that was fleeting from him. Still, the silence persisted, leeching off of the large male’s fears.

“...this is painful to watch.”

“H-Huh?”

Unfurling from the safety of his fetal position, Ivan stared up at the only other being in the room. Himself. But it wasn’t him. He stared down at the Russian with vividly expressive pink eyes; malice, spite, hatred swirled in them, just to name a few. Ivan shuddered in this man’s presence. He scooted back a few inches. The other simply watched him, observing his reactions as though he were merely a test subject. He did not seem to pose as a threat, however. Not yet. The silence that reigned supreme did not last long as Ivan cleared his throat, finding his voice.

“You’re...”

“You, yes.”

“Then, why are you–“

“Different?”

“Y-Yes.”

His broken reflection shrugged, tucking away his hands into the pockets of his uniform. The military cap he wore provided the right amount of shade over his eyes to give him an intimidating look, one that shook Ivan down to the core. Couple that with the unnerving calmness of his voice, and it renders the lonesome nation helpless. The pink eyed Russian thought for a moment, nonchalauntly gazing around the darkened room as though it held answers. He approached the table and wiped the table top with his pointer finger, clearing away any dust that might have clung to the glove.

“I am simply you, a different part of you. The “you” that...desires more. You, to put it as kindly as I can, are dead. ‘Россия’ no longer exists in this world. I, ‘СССР,’ have come to take your place.”

The news hits hard. Ivan is suddenly on his feet, disbelief in his eyes as he desperately tries to understand what he was just told. He couldn’t be gone, he was still here. This was all a bad dream, he’ll wake up any second due to Alfred’s noisy mouth and Ludwig snapping at him for being too loud. Francis and Arthur would be bickering while Yao uses the opportunity to get some extra cash from them, Kiku watching quietly from the sidelines and Feliciano would be napping (or eating pasta).

“You know what I said is true, Ivan.”

He’ll wake up.

“Don’t deny yourself the truth.”

Any second now.

“You’re only hurting yourself by ignoring me.”

He has to wake up.

The reflection sighs. He is soon standing beside Ivan, kneeling down to pat his back as the other sobs into his coat sleeve. Pink eyes soften at the sight, the heart that felt out of place in his chest pounding sharply. It felt like a knife twisting and cutting jaggedly into the flesh around it. He eventually rose, leaving the Russian to wallow in his misfortune. As the only other being approached the impassable double doors, he stopped. Sparing a glance behind him, he spotted a pair of dull purple eyes watching him from the shadows that fell over Ivan’s face. With another regretful sigh, he pressed on.

The doors swung open.

The meeting had not yet finished as the platinum blond stirred in his seat. It took a moment to adjust to the lighting in the room, as well as the cacophony that beat down his eardrums. After the constant noise and bright lighting no longer bothered him, the tall male sat upright in his chair. A dominant shade of pink had replaced the enigmatic purple everyone was used to seeing. The noise died down as a defeaning silence filled the room. His right hand dug into a coat pocket, fished out the fully charged cellphone, and pressed the power button: December 28th, 1922. A smile that did not reflect the dark emotions swirling in his eyes grew on his lips. He rose to his feet and bowed properly to the masses watching him.

“I am Viktor Braginsky, the personification of the СССР, or Soviet Union for short. As of today, I am an official country and look well to doing business with you all. Don’t worry about your friend, I promise to take very good care of him and his people.”

#short story #aph russia #aph soviet union #what else should I tag this #idk #ignore typos please #I got no sleep last night #RIP me #have fun

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moskat-22 · 6 years

Text

Orders

The buzzing in Vladimir’s head grew progressively worse as the seconds ticked by, grating on his every nerve. Ever since they discoved this damned mansion, their lives had become nothing more than a joke at this point. Hell, they weren’t even supposed to be alive, yet they were. What’s worse than discovering everyone BUT the man who dragged them to this place died gruesomely? Oh, right, the same nation responsible for their deaths made a deal with the grey abomination in order to save their already deceased asses.

Every reset the headaches get progressively worse and Vladimir knows he’s merely moments away from tearing a hole into the closest living thing in this room, then everyone would throw a huge fit - there’d be fists flying and weapons unsheathed and a whole lot of blood and brain matter - Vladimir groaned, rubbing aggressively at his temples. He had to stop thinking about the negative things, it was really bad for his already diminished health. Exhausted crimson eyes fell onto the small group of nations huddled around the table in the “Safe” Room. Why put air quotes? The room may be safe from the monster roaming the halls, but nobody was safe from each other. Everyone was a possible target and anyone could strike someone down at any time. As safe as it was, it wasn’t safe enough for him (and many others) to let down his guard. Tuning into the chatter that had been previously nothing more than white noise in the Russian’s ears, he was able to pick up on the topic of their rushed discussion.

“So you’re telling me we the chances of actually killin’ than damn this is jack shit? That’s fuckin’ great! Ya know, it’d’ve been nice to actually know when the damn bastard shows up. Maybe a lil’ audio que, or a growl or somethin’ along those lines.”

“Stop complaining, as if that ever solved anyone’s problems. As of now, we should focus on finding replacement weapons. Whatever happened to our actual weaponry will remain a mystery until clues are collected, until then, venturing outside of this room is prohibited until we have armed ourselves for any potential battles. Do I have any objections?” Silence fell over the mortal turned nations, much to James’s delight. Pushing his shades back against his face, the Canadian began spounting nonsense about what a good replacement weapon would be, drawing quick sketches of basic wooden daggers and pikes, a bow and some arrows, other easy to craft weaponry which happen to be quite light. No one seemed to mind all that much, since it was James who was speaking and no one wants to piss of the Canadian. Vladimir actually saw no difference with his old weapon and the replacement he had in mind; it was just a rusty tap, he could easily use an old pipe from this decayed building’s pipe system. As he mulled over the piping he’s come across over their days(?) trapped inside the mansion, a familiar voice chimed up in aggrivation.

“Why the hell do I need to replace my handguns? We just haven’t’ve been lookin’ for them in the right places!”

“Allen, please, we’ve looked everywhere for our weapons. They’re nowhere to be found, surprisingly enough.”

“You aren’t the only one missing your weapon, you know.” Kuro piped in, glaring heatedly at the redhead. Even Oliver sounded a bit ticked off, which was rare and all the more terrifying to Vladimir. He waited for Allen’s “genius” comeback as if the fate of their current time line rested on the words that tumbled from the redhead’s mouth. One never knew what would cause the next reset, this was the farthest any of them have gotten. Everyone was on edge about the next death and when it would happen, whether it be by one of their hands or by the hands of the creature lurking in the shadows. However, the moment Allen attempted to make his statement, a miracle happened.

Standing near the right of the group, Siegmund had listened silently as the others squabbled like children. He was almost completely forgotten by the Russian, almost. Luckily, the older German stood out quite sorely compared to the other idiots he was unfortunate to stand by. His accursed white hair was actually helpful for keeping tabs on him, should Vladimir feel he was a threat. Which never happened. However, the raven haired male (whom wasn’t a part of the group, he stood off to the side to “keep the stupidity from infecting him” and to monitor them should things start going south) couldn’t have been more surprised than anyone else. It happened so quickly though, it left everyone in collective shock for about a minute.

Siegmund had shoved Allen away from the center of the table with a strength many thought he no longer had, barely paying the American much mind as he whipped out their hand drawn map of the mansion and slammed it against the table top. He had everyone’s attention already, but then he opened his mouth, “Listen up, I don’t want to repeat myself. We know the momster shows up mostly in these two locations the most, however, because of their placement in the building, traversing these areas is almost a necessity to getting to and from. We should stick with James’ plan and focus on getting a substitute weapon for the meantime until we can properly reclaim our personal weapon. Make it desposable, there’s no need to get attatched to a poorly crafted wooden replacement when a steel bladed set is what you came in with. Are there any questions?”

Naturally, Allen opened his mouth again. “Dude, what the hell! YOU can talk!?”

“Of course I can, Mr. Jones. Why wouldn’t I?”

“B-But, y-ya never have before, so why speak now?”

Siegmund didn’t even bat an eye, returning to look at the map. “I had no reason to speak to any of you up until now–“

Vladimir’s heart lept into his throat. What was with these strange emotions? He has never felt this way about anyone before, this was simply foreign to him. The German’s voice was so foreign to everyone’s ears, it was demanding and well mannered with a hint of sternness. Something so many of the group despised, yet found themselves reluctantly listening to him. Siegmund may not be a fighter now, but he had once wrecked havoc across Europe as a powerhouse of a nation. He could easily put everyone down in their place if he felt the need to.

However, Siegmund’s commanding tone and confidant attitude had Vladimir’s brain slowly turning into a pile of mush. The more he spoke, the more the raven haired male longed to hear it directed towards him. He found himself automatically walking closer to the table, unintentionally joining the cluster of nations just to hear more of those foreign sounds. Piercing red eyes clashed with lovestruck crimsons for only a split second before the Russian got a hold of himself, drowning out the sudden overwhelming need to piss the German off.

“Did you catch any of that, Mr. Braginsky?”

“О да. I did. Find or craft a replacement weapon, avoid conflict with the beast down under, try not to slaughter each other in this mad house, and find keys to open more doors. All understood.”

After a few seconds of leery eyes being sent his way, Siegmund appeared to be satisfied once he mulled it over in his head. Vladimir, on the other hand, let out a silent sigh of relief. He hadn’t botched it up, good god that scared him. It paid to pay attention whilst he got lost in the ever darkening maze that were his inner thoughts. The Russian listened intently to whatever else Siegmund had to say with, what he could now safely call, a pining heart. Any signs of emotion other than disinterest were hidden behind his red scarf, which had seen some better years. Whether people noticed how he pulled the red fabric up past his nose to hide the fierce blush that crawled onto his cheeks and the giddy smile that grew on his lips every time Siegmund glanced up at him didn’t bother him. As long as they didn’t point it out. This instantanious infatuation with the albino was a secret only he, himself, could keep. The others would make his already shitty life worse, tenfold, if they found out about this unfortold event.

Seeing everyone slowly drift apart and away from the table snapped the raven haired nation out of his mental funk. The FACE quad returned to the table with some food that had been prepared before the spur of the moment meeting, Luciano and Siegfried retired for the night, and Siegmund had went to the kitchen to get his fill on food. The Russian decided he would pay a visit to the bathroom, claiming he was waiting for the boring meeting to finish due to his bladder crying out for release for the past ten minutes. However, the only thing that was crying for release was the hard on he accidentally found himself with once he felt the heat pooling in between his legs. No one questioned it when Vladimir calmly shut the bathroom door, they simply prayed to the poor toilet he was supposedly going to destroy.

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moskat-22 · 6 years

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Forgiving

The fridge door was shut aggressively once the spare vodka bottle was retrieved. The bottle cap was popped off with ease and the clear content was quickly guzzled down until half the bottle was left sitting within its glass container. Not even a full minute passed when another swig was taken. The bottle was slammed harshly against the counter once empty, earning a scowl from the only other house occupant.

“Why ya gotta be so rough with the counter? What’d it do to ya?”

“Oh fuck off, Allen.”

The red head scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. He leaned against the counter, jutting his hip out as he watched the larger male rummage through his fridge once again in the hopes another alcoholic beverage was stashed way in the back. Allen couldn’t help the smirk that crept onto his face, the view he got wasn’t half bad. The fridge door was suddenly slammed and a gloved hand wrapped itself around the American’s throat, tightening with every second. Fierce crimson eyes stared into Allen’s soul with an intensity that would have made any normal person shudder in fear.

“Allen, I swear to god I will kill you just to save the world the trouble of doing so.”

The American simply grinned, ignoring the lack of air reaching his lungs. “Y-Ya know ya won’t go through with it, Володя. Ya like me too much.”

The gloved hand hesitently retracted from Allen’s neck as a sigh from his boyfriend filled his ears. He couldn’t be mad at him, he was trying really hard with this treatment plan. Though, Allen was going to have to stop bringing remaining alcohol home from every party he goes to. He hated seeing Vladimir stress out whenever he spots a beer or a brand spankin’ new bottle of wine. The American would always feel responcible whenever the Russian had to explain to his counselor why he wasn’t improving with his alcohol addiction.

“Here.” Allen said softly, grabbing Vladimir’s hand before he could retract it. He intertwined their fingers after pulling off the black glove, his thumb gently carressing the scarred skin. Raising their hands up to his lips, the red head placed soft kisses against the visible scars that covered Vladimir’s hand. Blood red eyes glanced up at his raven haired boyfriend, smiling against the skin as he saw color blossom onto his usually pale cheeks.

“Al–“

“Does that feel a lil’ better?”

“We-Well...” Allen let their hands fall as he stood up to his full height. Vladimir swallowed the lump in his throat. Out of all of the people he knew, why was it that Allen could make him feel this way? These emotions were very strange and worked in bizarre ways. “You didn’t have to do that. I would have calmed down after a bit.”

“Ya looked about ready to fuck up my kitchen.”

Vladimir’s eyebrow rose as his arms crossed over his chest, skeptical. “Oh really?” Allen gestured to the imprintation of the vodka bottle’s butt in his expensive wooden countertop. The Russian felt his stomach churn uncomfortably. “Oh...”

“Look, I’m sorry, I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t’ve brought that bottle home last night, but ya know how Oli gets when I decline him. I kinda had no choice, besides, I wasn’t plannin’ on keepin’ it around. I was gonna hand it off to that damn Austrian, he parties all fuckin’ day from what I’ve been told. I never meant for ya to find it.” Allen gave Vladimir a sympathetic smile, and got one back in return surprisingly. It was easy to piss off his tall lover, that wasn’t a challange. The real challange was getting him to actually accept his apologies. Luckily for Allen, that was the case for today’s little accident.

The raven haired male ran a hand through his hair, an embarressed blush dusting his face. Vladimir couldn’t have felt any stupider than he did in that moment. Of course Allen wouldn’t pull a dick move like that, he knew better. Muttering an apology under his breath, the older male allowed himself to be pulled into a comforting hug. His arms came down and wrapped around the red head’s torso as Allen nuzzled into his neck.

All it took was a split second for their moment of peace to be interrupted as the younger of the two playfully bit Vladimir’s neck. The American was skillfully scooped up into Vladimir’s arms and heading off towards the bedroom; Allen laughing the whole trip.

#hetalia #2ptalia #rusame #human au?#tw: alcohol addiction #short story #have fun

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moskat-22 · 6 years

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I have a dire need.

Magical Boy AU for Hetalia.

It would be a hectic accident.

Like, Japan and England decide it would be a good idea to combine magic with magical girl anime.

Poof.

They’re in a magical girl anime.

Except - they are the ones who have the power.

Some of them have elemental powers.

Others get a huge buff to their melee.

And a small handful have heals and such.

They still transform into tutus and dresses, though.

France, Italy and China lowkey actually enjoy themselves.

America’s rockin’ the cowgirl miniskirt look.

Japan embraces his new look almost immediately.

Germany and Russia are the most humiliated by their outfits.

They are kinda broken and OP, even Italy.

Especially Italy.

They have to reverse the catastrophic spell by defeating some otherworldly monstrocity.

Or their worst fears.

Maybe both.

Canada records everything to make sure they all weren’t having the same crazy dream.

When it’s all done, they find themselves in a meeting room questioning what the hell they just experienced.

In the end, they all had a pretty good time.

#hetalia #aph america #aph russia #aph canada #aph china #aph germany #aph italy #aph france #aph japan #aph england #i want this #please #probably a crossover?#more like an au #have fun #go nuts #feel free to use

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moskat-22 · 7 years

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Wedding Crasher - A Cardverse AU Short Story

It was silent inside the bedroom chamber. Nothing could perfectly describe the sense of dread, betrayal, and fear that coursed through the newly wed's veins. The young King stumbled backwards until his heels connected with the bed frame, tripping him. Wide violet eyes stared at the other, clearly expressing the hectic emotions that ran rampid within the man's mind. This couldn't have been happening to him, not today. The silhouette before him smirked devilishly, yet made no move to approach him. Instead, the other stayed perfectly still, cackling.

"What's the matter, Ivy? I thought you loved me."

"Y-You are an imposter! Where is my bride?! What have you done with her!?"

Crimson eyes narrowed due to Ivan's hostility. Glaring from behind the wedding veil, the imposter huffed and crossed his arms over his chest. The Joker could respond with a multitude of answers just to rile him up; she was kidnapped, she had other plans, she abandoned you for another pretty rich boy, the answers were endless. They weren't true, but even if he told the truth, the Club probably wouldn't believe him. "Relax, relax, it's just a small prank. Elizabeta's fine. You can stop accusing me of murder now."

Ivan was fuming. He was tricked by a Joker, by Gilbert of all people. Sure, the citizens thought he was marrying Elizabeta, he even fell for it, but discovering it was just a prank hurt. The Russian didn't marry his desired lady, no, he was legitimately married to the Joker. To add the cheery on top of the cake of pain was the fact that the albino didn't even seem sorry for crashing his wedding. Pushing himself back onto his feet, the Club marched over to where Gilbert stood and grabbed him by the collar of his dress. Furious violets clashed with sly crimsons, both sides shielded by the veil hanging over the German's face.

"Bring Lady Elizabeta back this instant, Joker. I will not be made a fool of by your shenanigans."

"Easy, buddy. I said she's perfectly safe. There's no need to be upset, it's just a fun prank." Ivan's arm shot out towards the window, gesturing to the large crowd who showed up for this event. "...ok, so the people were completely convinced I was your bride, what's the big problem?"

"Gah! You! You are the problem!" Ivan snapped, jabbing his fingers into Gilbert's chest. He backed the albino into the wall, earning a yelp from said male. The Joker began to fidget nervously, starting to tremble in his high heels.

"N-Now hold on a second, let's talk things out! I-I can make it up to you, please don't burn my skin off!"

The platinum blond loomed over the jokester, obviously skeptical. Leaning on one hip, it was Ivan's turn to cross his arms. Gilbert has been known to cause trouble throughout the four kingdoms, but it was never his intention. There must have been a reason for this sudden bride swap. The Club sighed, dragging his hands across his face. He had no choice but to hear the other out. With a wave of his hand, the Russian signalled he's willing to hear what Gilbert had to say. The Joker immediately perked up.

"Oh, thank you! Ok, so, I've been meeting with Elizabeta lately and—"

"WHAT."

"Let me finish!" Gilbert hissed, pressing his hand over Ivan's mouth. "Gott, she was right, you really do need to loosen up." The German smirked when he saw violet eyes soften up. Removing his hand from the taller male's mouth, the Joker waited for a moment to see if he would speak. When he heard no questions, Gilbert resumed his speech. "She was the one who planned this whole thing. Elizabeta saw how hard you were trying to impress her, and as sweet as the attempts were, she just wanted you to be yourself. She thought that you would lighten up if me and her swapped positions during the wedding. I only tagged along with it because she was certain it would make you laugh. But, I guess it failed in the end."

Ivan stepped back to give Gilbert some space. There was guilt written all over him, his body language was dripping with it. It would have been nice to have been informed or something along those lines, now the Club just felt awful. "I-I'm sorry for how I acted. It didn't feel much like a prank, it felt more like a set-up for a coup d'etat." The young King bowed respectfully, mostly to hide the fresh tears that formed in the corners of his eyes. To be tricked in such a way, on their wedding day too, Ivan wasn't sure about this marriage anymore. He worked so hard for Elizabeta these past few years, and this is how she repays him? A simple "please be yourself" and a pat on the back would have been better than this treatment.

Gilbert reached out to comfort the newly wedded King, but retracted his hand just before he could touch the other. Ivan needed some space, that was apparent. Excusing himself, the albino made his way over to the bedroom door, dragging his feet. However, before he could turn the doorknob, a soft kiss was pressed against his cheek. The Joker spun around in time to see a faint blush crawling over Ivan's cheeks. "Wh-What was that for?"

"Ah, I don't know? You just looked sad, I didn't want you to leave feeling like you've ruined my life."

"W...well, I mean, I kinda did? We did just get married. T-Techically you and Elizabeta did, I was just filling in for her."

Ivan chuckled behind his hands, smiling for the first time since his wedding vows. The Club took Gilbert's hands into his own and lifted them to his lips, pressing gentle kisses to the front of each hand. He stood up straight and gave an even louder laugh when the German's face heated up. "Don't get the wrong idea now. Those hand kisses were for my Queen." Ivan watched Gilbert with analytical eyes as the other mouthed an "oh". He gave it some thought before leaning again, startling the Joker with a kiss on his lips. Neither moved for a few seconds, simply remaining still. Gilbert coughed into his fist only when the kiss ended.

"W-Was that also for your wife?"

"That one's purely up for you to debate." Ivan giggled sweetly. He rocked on his heels as the albino mentally argued with himself, watching the German's arms and hands move animatedly. Gilbert groaned and Ivan laughed again at the Joker's struggle. Ivan and Elizabeta were properly together by morning, with Gilbert apologizing again for the mix up from yesterday. The three had a good time, for all the trouble it was worth. While the wedding didn't go as planned, it was a wedding worth remembering.

#cardverse #aph russia #aph hungary #aph prussia #random short story #enjoy #rusprus #rushun

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moskat-22 · 7 years

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Alfred was along once again in the room. It always ended like this; everyone tags along, drops off their gifts, says a few thoughtful words, then leaves. Not that the American minded, he preferred to be alone. The young blond looked over all the gifts the others brought in before picking up the bouquet he set aside. "I hope you don't mind getting flowers again. I'll get you something better next time, money got tight thanks to Christmas and the presents I got you, maybe I should bring those down and open them up for you? It'd be fun to guess what's inside the wrapping paper, right?" Alfred laughed a bit before his smile fell. His gaze went to the words engraved in the stone and his tears were free falling. The nation who requested these be on his tombstone were made specifically to deliver a message the the American teen. Every time he visits, Alfred makes sure to read the tombstone's message word for word before he leaves: "If you want me to, I will lay down my life for you at will. If you want me to, I will worship you and everything you stand for in life. If you want me to, I will loyally follow you until we both meet with bitter ends. If you want me to, I will teach you things your young mind could never conceive on its' own. If you want me to, I will slowly learn to forget our joyous time together when times were good to us. If you want me to, I will begin to take on the villainous role to combat your heroic role. If you want me to, I will humiliate myself in front of the world if it means giving you the satisfaction you desire. If you want me to, I will allow myself to fail repeatedly so you can put yourself on a pedestal in the spotlight. If you want me to, I will succumb to my fate and fade from existence while you earn the title as the only Super Power on earth. If you want me to, I will close my eyes and drift off into an eternal slumber while the world around us eventually forgets of my existence. If you want me to, I will watch you from the heavens above and come to your side should the grief become to much for you to handle on your own. If you want me to, I will bid you a bittersweet farewell until my revival." - Ivan Braginsky (Russian Federation)

If You Want Me To.

Alfred walked pasted the old, sacred cemetery gates holding a beautiful bouquet. His twin brother, Arthur, Francis, and Yao followed shortly afterwards; each carrying their own small tokens to deliver. The small pack of five followed the cracked stone pathway, their eyes flickering to the neatly organized rows and columns of tombstones that surrounded them. Under normal circumstances, Alfred would have been absolutely terrified of such a place, however, he had a reason to visit the grave yard. Continuing down on the beaten stone road, the American sighed when they came across a unique structure standing tall in a clearing. It was a lot different than the smaller buildings that surrounded the nearby area, it resembled a shrine in more ways than one. A final resting place for ancient nations of the past and for recently dissolved nations of the present. The citizens could visit if they so wish and pay them their respects, even if they never had the chance to meet with any of the personifications. Alfred was the first to reach the door, pushing it open to allow the nations who tagged along walk in without an issue. Once they piled in, he closed the door behind him and took a deep breath to mentally prepare himself. Resuming position as leader, the young blond led the four down the flight of stairs until the reached the bottom floor. He paused, forcing himself to look around the room. The bottom floor was a rather spacious room with small decorations lining the walls and benches for people to sit on. On the opposite side from the stairs rested a rather large tombstone. Two Russian nesting dolls sat untouched on both sides of the stone, a portrait of the nation buried there hung on the wall above, and a tattered pale scarf sat before the tombstone. A new addition to the scene was a small handmade polar bear plush that sat within the scarf, holding the Russian tricolor flag. Footsteps echoed softly as Alfred approached the large tombstone, kneeling down before it. He put the bouquet off to the side in favor of examining the new addition to the memorial. The bear plush was rather recent, it must have been sitting there for at least a month. The American had a vague idea as to who made it, but left it alone. He put the plushie back where he found it, making sure to tuck it’s legs back underneath the worn fabric before letting out a sorrowful chuckle. Tears formed in the corners of his eyes as he looked up at the portrait, though he did his best to keep his cool. “H-Hey, long time no see, dude. How long has it been since our last visit? Three months? Guys?” Alfred glanced back at the quad before him for a confirmation. Matthew nodded, along with Yao and Arthur; Francis was wiping at his eyes, his face becoming red with sadness and guilt. The young blond swallowed some air before returning his attention to the portrait. “So, uh, we celebrated your birthday during Christmas. We even baked you a cake and got you presents. Hopefully red velvet was your favorite flavor, cause that’s what Yao said.” He laughed softly, his gaze returning to the bear.

#aph hetalia #aph russia #aph america #aph england #aph france #aph china #aph canada #hinted rusame/amerus #i hate how tumblr has a text limit #read the reposts please for the full story

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moskat-22 · 7 years

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There was a momentary silence that filled the barren room, save for the sound of Francis's quiet sniffles. He heard his brother console the Frenchman as best he could as Arthur joined Alfred's side. He was quick to put down the gift he got - an old music box that played one of Tchaikovsky's songs - then returned to the duo with a teary eyed gaze. The old blonds always the first to break down during these visits. Yao was next, but he chose to sit down beside the American. He fiddled with the gift he brought for a moment, a very old wooden carving he made back when he was under another's control. The very nation he was giving it to taught him what wood carving was and the various trinkets that could be made out of it. The brunet set the wood carving up against the tombstone so it would stand up then rose to his feet. Yao was always the first to leave the shrine all together, Alfred watched the old nation pass the others and climb the stairwell. It took a moment for Matthew to drop by. He remained standing but the gift he brought was a bit special to him. Although the Canadian never got the chance to know the other well, he did know the other was a huge fan of Hockey. Carefully stepping around the tombstone, the younger twin released himself of his prized hockey stick, letting the sport item lean against the wall. "I wish we got to play a few more matches with each other, so I hope I get a declaration for a rematch soon." The Canadian soon left his brother's side to wait by the stairs. The final party member finally gathered enough courage to approach the tombstone, his eyes red and tear trails stained on his face. Francis knew the other for a long time, he was his first official trade partner and main ally. The Frenchman bit his bottom lip to avoid another breakdown. "Here," he whispered as he put down his gift. The object he set down was an 18th century violin that the nation had always wanted to buy, yet never had the money. It was in pristine condition, the polished wood glimmering underneath the faint lighting. "I was planning on giving this to you sooner, but...I guess I was too late." He stood up and left the chamber before he could cry again. Matthew followed suite, and Arthur tagged along.

If You Want Me To.

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