|No, I'm not obsessed with Hetalia. What makes you think that?|
the eyepatch and the handcuffs his hands have promisedthe eyepatch and the handcuffs by Satah
to wipe off every fingerprint
your last lover left on you
he has sworn he will
wear gloves, when he needs to,
and pay attention to the instructions on the boxes
"this side up"
and you have sworn
you will try to let him
i hear your bodies whispering these things to each other
when you think i'm asleep
and i've seen your nervous window-glances
when he is mumbling oaths into your neck
you still cherish the swirling bruises
because you think they're all you deserve
homeYou once told me that Star Wars felt like homehome by justfiableparanoia
And I laughed because
It sounded like such a strange declaration
And seemed so out of the blue
But then I started thinking
What could possibly remind the homeless of home?
note the difference between house and home
And I thought to myself that night
Long and hard
As I held you in my arms
In all my thinking I found that each place had a memory
But I could not bring myself to call any of those places
Because I am among the homeless
As I always have been
So I thought to myself some more
And after quite some time spent dreaming of long empty houses
I realized something
You remind me of home
Of warm nights spent with the one you love
Of laughing uncontrolably for ages
Of kisses stolen long past midnight
Of hopes and dreams and happy memories
Again With MeOdin – один
Early September, 1914
"You look so handsome, Ivan Rossiyavich."
"Thank you, Tsarina," Russia said sincerely as the woman to whom he spoke, Alexandra Romanova, adjusted the lay of his scarf over his uniform. This was the last he would see of her, of the family, for many months, and the love he had in his heart for her, for the children, allowed him to consent to the way they fussed over him—how the girls offered him knitted gloves and sweaters and socks and signed icons of orthodox saints, how Tsarina Alexandra worried for him and spoke to him as though she had borne him herself.
Of course, he would have consented to such treatment anyway.
"We'll pray for you, Cousin Vanya," one of the girls, fifteen year old Marie, promised.
"Thank you, Marie Nicholaevna," he replied.
"You'll write us often?" This was the eldest of the four girls, Olga. She tried her hardest to be grown up, but the worry in her eyes reminded Russia of her ag
Russia x Reader Commission Ch.1How had it come to this?Russia x Reader Commission Ch.1 by SmarticleParticle
Six months ago, you had it all. A beautiful palace, loving parents, gorgeous friends. You would spend hours wandering through the vast gardens, or reading in the massive library, or mingling with your father’s many guests.
How far you’d fallen.
You stepped out of your dress, bare skin prickling in the cold of the room he had given you. You were lucky to have this much; it had taken three months of careful persuasion for him to allow you your own bed. That did not guarantee privacy, though. He could ‘visit’ at any time, which was why you had to wear those hateful short nightdresses with too much lace and too little fabric.
As you made to get into bed, you caught your reflection in the mirror. It made you pause. You thought that by now you would be accustomed to your pale skin, protruding bones and shadowed eyes, but apparently not.
You blew out the candle and lay stiffly on the firm mattress, waiting for sleep to claim you.
Changeling!Russia x Reader: Wings Alternate endingHe was sick of it. The whispering. The fear. The stares that followed him everywhere he went. The whispering behind his back. Ivan was sick of it all.Changeling!Russia x Reader: Wings Alternate ending by SmarticleParticle
He gritted his teeth as he trudged up the hill, pinpricks of light from the village twinkling beneath him. He shifted the pack on his back to his other shoulder. There wasn’t a lot in there; just some spare clothes and enough food to last until he got where he was going—wherever that was. Still, the pack was painfully heavy, even for a strong eighteen-year-old like him.
Leaving hadn’t been an easy decision to make. Even though he had wanted to do it for a long time, there was one factor that always made him stay.
Even she had deserted him now—or at least, she was going to. Her father had seen to that. In just a few hours, she would be marrying some respectable blacksmith and he would lose her forever. Just thinking about it cast a violet aura over his thoughts and his very being.
Changeling!Russia x Reader: WingsIvan couldn’t be sure exactly when he had fallen in love with his childhood friend. Perhaps it had been when they first met, when she was five and he was six; or maybe it had been during their early teenage years, when hormones raged like storms.Changeling!Russia x Reader: Wings by SmarticleParticle
Either way, Ivan was deeply in love with ______. However, there was a problem.
He had always known that he was different. The other children in the small village where he lived would run away if he asked to play with them. He didn’t do anything to scare them; there was just something about him that was frightening.
Even so, he couldn’t complain. That was how he met ____ .
Small feet crunched through the deep snow, frozen hands held out for balance. The chubby boy lifted his head to the sky, the sight of snowflakes swirling down making him dizzy.
He sighed, white breath curling up from his mouth like a dragon’s. This was boring, running around in the snowy
Demon!Russia x Sacrifice!Reader ch.5You stood on the edge of a golden field. Ears of corn swayed in the evening breeze, your skirt swished and your hair flew in front of your face. Wispy white clouds lined the pink sky, and birds serenaded each other in the distance.Demon!Russia x Sacrifice!Reader ch.5 by SmarticleParticle
In the centre of the field was a woman. Her back was turned, but you could see that she wore a long white dress and seemed to float above the ground, on a cloud of her own. Her long hair was gracefully gathered on top of her head and held together with a delicate silver band. Had she not been standing in a field, she could have been a royal.
You took a tentative step towards the woman in white. Dry grass snapped under your stiff leather boots. You reached out your hands to part the corn in front of you. Even from this distance, you knew exactly who the woman was.
As your fingers touched the nearest ear of corn, a sharp stinging sensation shot down your arm. You yelped and snatched your hand away, inspecting your fingertips for damage. Luckily, there was n