Germany just knew something was wrong. He was called a Kraut and accused of being on drugs on the same quarter of a minute.
“Italy, are you hungry?”
“No, I am not Hungary. Hungary is a girrrrrrrrrrl... I think.”
“That's not what I meant. Italy, you're eyes are red.”
“So is your face after you masturbate!”
Gathering what is left of his sanity, Germany slams his fist against the table that was in between him and the (usually) happy-go-lucky, “Doitsu~ Doitsu~” Italy.
“FELICIANO VARGAS! WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?!” His face still red.
“ This, pronoun. a: the one nearer or more immediately under observation or discussion b: the one more recently referred to.”
“Mach es dir selber.” (Go fuck yourself) Italy replied casually, his smile hinting a bit of amusement, or were those just the drugs?
“Did you just speak German?!” The bigger nation replied, shocked. (though his face wouldn't show it...
“No, it's the language most Germans use.”
And by then, Germany was SURE something was VERY VERY VERY wrong.
“H-hey Italy. Are you sure you don't want to eat? I can cook pasta for you if you want...” He offered, sounding desperate, but his facial muscles refuse to show any worry.
“PASTA? IN REPUBLICA ITALIA, PASTA EATS YOU!!”
Before Germany can do anything violent with the table (no it's not what you think... he doesn't have sex with inanimate objects. -except Austria dumbstruck from discovering Hungary's secret stash of photos, then he'll be inanimate-), the phone rang. Germany wanted to beat Italy to the phone for public safety, but alas! Faster than you can say “OHMYFUCKINGGODWHEREISCAPTAINPLANETWHENYOUNEEDHIM?!” Italy was already speaking.
“No, I'm afraid Germany's having hot mad sex with England's unicorns.”
“I AM ENGLAND YOU GIT. AND LEAVE MY UNICORNS ALONE.” the phone hissed, just loud enough for Germany to hear.
“ITALY! GIVE ME THE PHONE. NOW.” He commanded.
20 minutes and 10 rolls of duct tape later, Germany was finally able to get Italy off the phone. Thank Hitler England didn't put the phone down yet.
“I'm surprised you haven't put the phone down yet.”
“Hearing Italy's moans and screams of “GERMANYYYYYY!” and the sound of random items breaking is quite... entertaining.”
“I... I-It's not what you think!” He could imagine the scene England had in mind and blushed hard. And, he would never say it in a million years, but that isn't the only thing that was hard.
“Going back on topic, I was just wondering why you sent me wurst-printed boxers.”
“What. When did THAT happen?!” He was trying to sound calm, really. But really, he couldn't.
“Just a few seconds before I called...”
“I didn't send them, but I think I know who did.” the German said, loud enough for Italy to hear on the opposite side of the room, duct-taped. He shot him dagger-like glares, hoping they would turn real and murder the Italian, right there and then.
“Anyway, would you mind giving it back?”
“Of course I would! I need to show this the others.” There was something about the way he said 'others' that made him want to jump out the nearest window rather than go to the next World Meeting.
“Wait just a seco- Oh shit.” England had hung up. Right now, he just wanted to strangle Italy with what was left of his dignity, if any.
“WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU JUST DO?!” he screamed, shaking Italy.
“It was like, totally all France's fault. Like, super to the max.” Italy said. Begging (?) for his dear life.
“I can't believe he's actually channeling Poland now. Poland! Of all the countries!” he mentally panicked.
But wait! What is that about France...? Germany ran to Italy's room, seeing only seconds later a bottle of what seems to be a kind of drug and a letter by Italy's table. It wrote:
“Dear Italy (That I would not mind having),
Here's the magical-doesn't-taste-like-English-food-medicine-that-would-make-Germany-happy pill you wanted. I'm sure Germany will finally smile and be gay (pun not intended) with you after you've drank this medicine. I am 100% sure it works because I've tried it myself, and is the reason why other nations love me so much~ Best of luck, mon cher! Tell me what happens after. (If you know what I mean.
Le Wink,
France nii-san
Germany examined the bottle carefully, feeling a bit nervous. Anything from France can absolutely NOT be good. He scanned it for any markings and when he saw the bottom, the label read, in bold black letters: “VIAGRA”
Germany was speechless. He wasn't sure if it was because of Italy wanting to make him happy, asking FRANCE for advice, France actually GIVING advice, Italy drinking Viagra, or Italy drinking Viagra only to find out that it has a different effect on Italy. Maybe it was all of them.
Then again... Germany thought for a second that Italy's haircurl was longer (and straighter?) than usual.
A/N: Also, sorry this isn't what you wanted, OP!Anon, but I couldn't resist. ;_______; *Levels up on suckiness* I tried my best to not make it sound like I was the one on crack, but it's 2 AM here and bah. Sorry. D: I'm sure there are other more talented writer!Anons out there who are willing to fill this request properly...
I hope this will satisfy you OP ^^ I'll post the rest soon :D
----
Germany woke up that morning with a strange feeling in his stomach –and he knew it wasn’t his stomach-ache coming up again, either.
It was more of a feeling of phantom pain, and that worried him.
Something was wrong, and he felt it.
What caused the uneasy feeling was the lack of a familiar presence in his bed when he awoke –a presence that was always there, at his side, in the mornings.
Feliciano.
It had turned a habit of him to sneak and slip unnoticed in his bed at night, and cuddle next to Germany, and it had been years since it had started… routine being broken only a few times before.
On his part, Germany had long since stopped opposing it, because he had started feeling more comfortable than he could admit with Italia near him, a warm routine that could still bring a flush to his cheeks despite everything.
Of course, as previously stated, there had been days when Italia had not been sleeping at his side –it occurred during national holidays, when he’d be going to sleep next to his brother, or the few times he was busy visiting his other friends, like Japan– but this time, Germany felt something was wrong nonetheless, because it was the fifth consecutive day Feliciano had not appeared at all, during the whole day.
It was probably his sixth sense developed after knowing Italia (the same sixth sense that made him buy tons of stomach–ache relievers every time he had to train Feliciano), but Ludwig had learned to trust it.
So, if his guts were right, there was going to be a problem of some nature and it was time to address it.
Still, he wouldn’t just go and seek Italia himself, because maybe his guts were wrong and Italia was just fine and sleeping with Romano in his bed, and would appear at least for lunch…
Stretching and leaving his bed, Germany quickly showered and brushed his hair, taking extra care of it, then went for his usual breakfast.
He had nothing prepared for the day –it was long since a war had happened, and he would probably sit with a book and some classical music all day – so he decided to wait for Italia in his garden.
The strange twist in his stomach didn’t leave him all morning though, as he attended to his dogs without fault and then gardened a bit, wondering why there were so many yellow birds around, and it was past midday when he decided that maybe he ought to go seek Italia.
It wasn’t normal that he wasn’t around for lunch either.
Usually, Feliciano would be all over Ludwig, asking for pasta and more pasta, but… today, and the four days before…
And Ludwig wasn’t going to admit he was missing Italia’s loudness either. It wouldn’t be like him to even think that… but it didn’t make it any less true.
Germany left his house and moved towards Venice, where the main house of Feliciano was (he had another one in Rome and another one in Sicily. The first was for both the Italia brothers, the Sicily one was mainly Romano’s), hoping to find the young man there.
Switzerland wasn’t in the house at his passage, thankfully (the other Nation still wasn’t happy of seeing him pass by), so he reached Italia without a hitch…
And it was then problems begin for Germany.
***
Ludwig looked at the opened front door with a perplexed face –even though Feliciano was quite air–headed, he never forgot to close the front door, knowing of the many thefts around the neighbourhood (god forbid some human to steal in a Nation’s house!).
“Italia? Are you there?” he called out, hesitating before entering.
He got an instant answer when a brown head popped up right in front of him, and wide eyes looked up at him.
“P–potato bastard!” Romano’s cheeks were flushed and he didn’t look fine at all. “For once… for once…” South Italy looked down, as if fighting against himself, then looked back up at him “for once, it’s good to see you”.
Ludwig felt his stomach contract painfully.
Did Romano just express… relief in seeing him?!
… was there worry in his eyes?
“Romano?” he asked, unsure of what to expect.
“It’s Feliciano” south Italy growled, wringing his hands together. “Something’s wrong with him but I can’t understand –he won’t tell me what’s wrong… I’ve been here for some days and…”
Well, it was true –Lovino didn’t like to come up to Venice, so him being there was…
“What’s wrong with Feliciano?” Ludwig asked, pushing the older of the Italy brothers away to step into the house, looking around.
“It’s… it’s…” Lovino fell silent.
Germany shook his head in impatience and then felt a loud crash from the second floor. Without looking back at the Italian behind him, he swiftly moved upstairs, growing more worried as he noticed how many of the beautiful paintings adorning the house had been ripped from the walls or ruined with colourful pencils.
“Feliciano?” Germany peered inside the room, and froze.
There it was –Italia, with his back towards him, and half naked, with broken shards of a vase all around him on the ground. He was standing on bare feet, and Ludwig felt anger surge at that, doubled with worry.
“Italia! What happened!”
Feliciano slowly turned around, and Ludwig couldn’t stifle a shocked gasp.
Italia’s eyes were puffy red, a bit swollen, as if he’d been crying, and circled with dark rings –signal he hadn’t been sleeping well either– and his skin looked way too pale. Feliciano licked his dried lips, barely wetting them, Germany noticed, and blinked, as if having hard time focusing his attention on the blond German.
“Ah… Lud…wig?” Italia’s voice was quite raspy. Was he ill? Feliciano’s eyes lit up, and he skipped towards him, bouncing in happiness and pressing his naked feet over the vase’s shards.
“Feliciano!” Ludwig yelled, grabbing Italia by his arms and holding him still, before pushing him down on a chair, staring in shock at the bleeding feet. “What the hell–”
The Italian stood up again, apparently ignoring the blood and the pain, and pressed his hands on Ludwig’s coat, humming. “Coarse…” he mumbled, his tone low and so unlike him. He let his fingers stroke the cloth up and down, fisting Germany’s cross pendant and burying his face in his chest. “Hmm…” he groaned curling to get more of the feeling.
Ludwig blushed hard at the gesture, which was… somehow more intimate than anything Italia had done before, and somehow also more creepy, and pushed the younger man away, feeling the knot in his stomach get stronger. “Italia, look at me!” he ordered.
Italia giggled, not even noticing how his voice was dry, and motioned for Ludwig to lean down. When the confused and now worried German complied, he pulled up suddenly and kissed him square on the lips.
Ludwig recoiled backwards, face completely flushed, but not missing just how dry and chapped Italia’s lips were. They were also burning.
“Italia, you’re running a fever! What are you doing up?!” he growled, grasping Feliciano’s curl and pulling on it, the usual punishment he reserved for when the Italian wasn’t complying with him.
The reaction wasn’t quite what he was expecting.
Feliciano let out a loud half moan, half gasp, grabbing Ludwig’s clothes as his legs trembled and gave away under his weight. His face, already flushed, burned twice as red and his eyes glazed over. “Ahn… Germany…” he moaned, pushing his body flush against Ludwig’s.
Ludwig pulled away as if he’d been burned, stepping backwards and getting away from Italia, bumping on Lovino as he did so. The older Italian for once didn’t look angered. “He… he did that to me, too” he muttered.
Germany stared at him with shock.
“The kiss, I mean” Lovino hastily added, growing lightly more flushed. “He’s been… touchy. More than usual, I mean. He’s been out of it, too, and he looks feverish but won’t listen to me… I tried making him stand still but he started breaking furniture in anger” Lovino was quite worried and it was clear.
Usually, he was the one doing the breaking. Feliciano wasn’t anger–prone.
On the ground where he had fallen after Ludwig had pushed him away, Feliciano was groaning and passing his hands on the floor, giggling at the feeling of the neat tiles under his fingers. It looked like his giggling was not under control, as soon he was shaking, gasping and laughing.
third part up. the rest will come tomorrow as i'm still writing it. I hope you're enjoying ^^
---
Germany was pale, and couldn’t understand what was happening.
He was terribly worried, too. What was happening with Italy? Was he hallucinating because of the fever?
Trying not to think about how Feliciano had looked when pulling his curl, Germany kneeled and lifted the Italian in his arms, rather shocked by the sudden lack of weight. He looked down, paying more attention to the naked chest, and saw just how thin Feliciano looked now.
“When did this start?” he asked Lovino, holding Italia close to his chest to prevent too much fidgeting. Feliciano went limp in his arms though, mumbling something and curling against Ludwig.
“I don’t know… I came here two days ago, and he was…” South Italy bit his lower lip, shrugging. “Depressed” he mumbled. “Then he started acting cheerful again, but was… well, like this”.
“Has he been eating at all?”
Lovino shook his head, gloomy. “Not even pasta with tomato” he answered.
Ludwig’s eyes narrowed.
“Ah… wait, Germany~” Feliciano giggled. “I want my candies~” he pointed towards a table, where a small plastic bag was.
Lovino and Ludwig exchanged looks, then the older Italian moved to the bag, picking it up and moving to his brother to give it to him. “You shouldn’t be eating sweets, you’re feverish” he murmured, but sighed in defeat, holding one of the candies for Feliciano to take, thinking it would make him calm down for a moment.
Even though Lovino hated the German bastard, he was also quite glad for his presence –he was stronger than he himself was, and was helping… damn potato eating idiot!
Germany, who had been busy ascertaining Feliciano’s conditions, froze at the sight of the small coloured candy in the italian’s hand, and quickly grabbed his wrist in one hand, still holding Italy with the other.
“What the hell–” Lovino protested, but the steely grip on his wrist didn’t ease.
“Look… let me look at that candy” Ludwig ordered.
Lovino wanted to growl and yell at him, saying he didn’t like to be ordered around, but Germany’s serious tone stopped him. He opened his palm and allowed the taller man to get a better look at the cute candy –pink and bone–shaped.
“It’s just one of his candies” he stated, but there was some hesitance in his tone. “He’s been eating this brand since I came, and–”
Ludwig’s hand trembled against his wrist, and Feliciano wriggled in his embrace, trying to grasp the candy. “My candy~” he pouted.
“This… this is not candy” Germany murmured. “Feliciano! Where did you get those?!”
Feliciano’s smile wavered and tears appeared in his eyes. His mood abruptly dropping at Ludwig’s serious tone. “I… I bought them from a nice guy” he replied, licking his dried lips again. “He’s nice, h-he keeps selling them to me whenever I want… and they taste great and I always eat a lot!”
Ludwig felt his blood freeze. Slowly, he backed away from Lovino. “Feliciano, those are not candies. You can’t eat them anymore, got it?” his tone wavered uncertainly.
“What~? But Germany!” Italia squirmed again, but was held twice as firmly. “They’re too good, I want them! Give them to me! Now!” his tone turned to a low, almost threatening one.
“P–potato bastard? What’s with him?” Lovino stared at his brother in shock.
“That –that is ecstasy” Ludwig spit out.
He had not seen the drug before, at least not in real life, but he knew what it was. his own country had problems with it, and there had been many TV advertisings about the dangers of drugs being aired.
The fever, the dark circles and redness, and the mood swings, and his strange behaviour of touching things, and his dry lips and rough voice…
“How many did you eat already today?!” he growled at Feliciano, who was now trying to claw his way out of the man’s arms.
“Only five or six!” Feliciano yelled.
Ludwig paled.
“Lovino –go fetch water” he ordered. “Throw that away, search if he has more around the house… Lovino!” he hissed urgently, seeing as the older Italian had frozen, clenching his hand around the pill.
South Italy nodded and ran out.
“My candies! I want my candies! Let me go! Let me go!” Feliciano yelled, trying to elbow Germany in the stomach.
sorry it took so much, I've had some headache-filled days.
---
Germany held him still and ran towards the closest bathroom. He didn’t know when this started and as sure as hell neither of the two knew what the ‘candies’ had been, but now he knew and would have to work fast.
Feliciano was clearly dehydrated, and had not eaten, and had God only knew how many fucking pills in his system, eating more every day…
His stomach clenched in worry again.
“Germany~” Italia whined, then he was facing the toilet. “Wha… Germany, what…”
Ignoring bile raising inside him, Germany pushed Italy closer to the toilet, forced his mouth open and inserted two fingers in it. Italy’s body stiffened and arched and a second later he was kneeling on the toilet, vomiting into it.
Massaging Feliciano’s back and neck, since after the first wave, he kept vomiting on his own, Germany sat next to the Italian, hoping he had at least managed to get out some of the pills. He didn’t know if it worked well, or how fast the drug was absorbed in the organism, but he had no other ideas.
When Italy fell on the floor, gasping, sobbing and crying, he pulled it back up in his arms and wiped his face with a wet towel, keeping the other man close to his chest.
“Gh… Germany… why… why…” Italia’s voice was trembling and rasping so much it hurt Ludwig.
In that moment, Lovino appeared in the bathroom, holding a bottle of water and a pissed off expression, and more gently than anyone could give him credit, he aided his younger brother in drinking the water, slowly but not stopping until he had drank half of the bottle.
“What… what can we do?” he asked, uncertainly “I’ll seek whom he bought the pills from tomorrow” he added, his tone lowering until it resembled a hiss.
“I think it’ll be harder to have him away from the pills” Ludwig replied softly, rubbing at Feliciano’s back and feeling quite self conscious and worried. “I’ll be staying here, it won’t be a pretty sight”.
Lovino was about to say something, but seeing his brother curl in a small, weak and shivering heap, he bit his lip. It was better if Ludwig remained. He couldn’t have done it by himself, after all…
The rest of the day moved on quite fast; Germany cleaned up Feliciano’s feet and put him on the sofa whilst Lovino could clean up the house, then Ludwig forced the younger Italian to eat something, even though he protested.
Feliciano looked still deep into whatever effect the drug had, so it had been quite difficult to make him stay still, but Ludwig knew the worst would come when the effect started to vanish. He had no time to even check up on ecstasy somewhere, because he didn’t want the situation to worsen up in his absence, either.
“Germany…” Italia’s voice was a bit less dry than before, thanks to all the water he had been drinking. “Germany… where are my candies?”
“I can’t give you those candies anymore” Ludwig replied, tensing up. “But there’s some pasta in the kitchen if–”
“I don’t want pasta” Feliciano hissed, his puffed eyes narrowing in sudden anger. “I want my candies!”
Ludwig felt a small shudder run down his back at the sight, so unusual and… not fitting on the usually cheery young man. “Feliciano…” he hesitated, holding out a hand towards the Italian, only to have it swatted away angrily.
“Don’t touch me, you idiot!” Italia stood up, swaying lightly, and glaring at the still sitting Nation. “Who told you to come here? Go away! I hate you Germany!”
Ludwig ignored the pang of pain at those words, reminding himself Italia wasn’t actually in his right mind, and shook his head. “Feliciano, those were not candies, those were drugs… you won’t be getting them anymore” he added, watching Feliciano wobble out of the room.
Italia slumped against the wall, feeling his body out of control; his hands were shaking hard, and it was hard to stand up. More than that, he kept thinking about his candies, and why he couldn’t get any now. They were tasty, if only a bit strange, and they made him feel giddy, and–
“Feliciano, come back here” Ludwig called from inside the room, apparently ignoring what he had just yelled.
Italia felt tears run down his already flushed cheeks.
once again, taking so long. to clarify things, one ecstasy pill is enough already. Feliciano is able to ingest more than one during the course of 24 hours due to his Nation resistance? :P he's not entirely human, after all.
-----
Why was everything turning so gloom now? Before the colours were so bright and everything felt wonderful under his fingers, and cuddling with Lovino had also been awesome, and it all had looked warm, and coming to him…
Now… now…
“I want my candies!” he yelled, feeling his throat burn in pain.
His body craved for something, and he knew it was connected somehow to his delicious candies, and remain without them would mean go back to how depressed he had felt the first day, when he had only bought one.
He had felt depressed for the first time in centuries –he had even started thinking of Holy Roman Empire after years since he disappeared, and that had made him cry hard, sobbing and tearing down his beloved paintings from the wall, since everything of Venice reminded him of the young blond.
Not even his brother coming home had helped, his anger spiking up… so he had bought more candies. They had kept him cheery.
Not many, at first. Just three more –they were awfully expensive, after all– but they had all been consumed in a day, much to the shock of the guy who had sold them to him (he had looked surprised, but mostly uncaring, selling him more without asking questions).
He slammed his closed fists on the wall, yelping at the pain, and kept on punching the wall. There was some sort of comfort in doing it over and over, so he kept slamming his fists hard until strong arms grabbed him and held him still, one hand circling his wrists.
“Let me go! Let me go!” he whined, nailing at the arms.
More tears were running down his cheeks, and it was painful, and it hurt, and he didn’t want to be sad!
“Stop! It’s ok!” Ludwig didn’t really know what to do other than hold Feliciano close, whispering calming words in his ears, so he simply did that, sliding on the ground and turning the Italian around so he could look at him. “Feliciano, look at me… you don’t need the candies, just breathe… it’ll be over soon, I promise, it’ll be over soon”.
Feliciano buried his face in Ludwig’s chest, sobbing pitifully. No, it wasn’t ok.
He felt shitty, his throat hurt, his feet hurt, his hands hurt, and his whole body as well, felt tired and heavy.
More so, now that he had thought about him again, the memories of his first love weren’t leaving his mind anymore.
“Sacro Romano Impero…” he mumbled, now feeling twice as bad as before for the words he had yelled at Ludwig.
The older Nation had been always nice with him, just like Holy Roman, patient and tolerant and sweet, and he’d just yelled at him something so untrue!
“What did you say?” Ludwig, who wasn’t familiar with the Italian words Feliciano had just mumbled, was left puzzling over them as the brown haired Nation clung at his chest again, crying. “Italia…”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it! I don’t hate Germany, I really don’t! I love Germany just as much as I’ve loved Sacro Romano Impero!”
Looking up and meeting the worried expression of Ludwig, Feliciano cried more, unable to understand his own reactions.
“Don’t hate me, please, don’t hate me!” he sobbed. “Don’t leave me like he did!”
The words hit Ludwig like blades.
Leave him? Like who did?
Nonetheless, his grip on the Italian’s lithe body only tightened.
“I won’t leave you. I’ll be right there with you” he whispered, grateful when the shivering and sobbing started to subside. “Italia, you’ve been high on drugs. They were not candies. They made you hyper and excited and now they’re making you feel this way… it might hurt you but it will be better not to eat those anymore”.
Brown, teary eyes looked up at him uncertainly. “D–drugs…?” the trembling hands clenched more of Ludwig’s jacket, until the knuckles were white. “N–not candies…?”
Ludwig held him even closer, not wanting to look more into the wide eyes, so filled with fright and pain and helplessness.
“It will be painful” he murmured, leaning down to brush his lips against Feliciano’s ear. “But I won’t go away, I’ll be right here with you and I won’t let you go”.
Resistance breaking down, Italia snuggled more into the hug, the comforting gesture doing nothing to quench the need racking his body. He still ached, and he didn’t even realise he had been biting on his lips until blood filled his mouth.
He just… wanted to stand up and run to his candies and eat them because they were yummy and made everything bright and–
‘No… drugs. They were drugs. Cannot eat ‘em’ he thought, trying to grasp the concept with his glazed over brain.
His grip on Germany’s body tightened.
***
Unfortunately, Feliciano’s clear thoughts didn’t last long. A few hours later, though still in Ludwig’s arms and with Lovino at his side, he was already thrashing.
“I want them! Give them to me! Drugs, candies, doesn’t matter! It hurts! It hurts!”
And it did. He craved for that light feeling, he craved for the release, something different from the pain he was feeling now, so that he wouldn’t feel this depressed, this desperate–
His body arched as if in deep pain, a kind of pain Germany and his brother couldn’t even start to know, and he clawed at Germany’s hands, then attempted to nail Romano’s face, but with the combined effort of both, they managed to keep him still until the rush of need passed.
Slumping down, tired and drowsy, Feliciano kept sobbing pitifully, unable to lift his arms again.
“L–Ludwig… nii–chan…” he chocked on his own words, lucid enough to know he had hurt both of them in his thrashing but at the same time unable to care enough other than his burning need.
“We’re still here” came Germany’s steely voice.
A hand –rough but smaller than the taller blond’s– brushed against his hair, in a soothing manner, and Feliciano whined, curling into a small ball of Italia, attempting to run from the pain.
He was so tired, but every time he closed his eyes–
“Sleep” Ludwig murmured, shifting so they were both laying on the sofa, his arms still around the Italian’s body. “We’ll be here”.
Romano, who would have, in normal circumstances, avoided the German like the plague, or insulted him, merely pressed closer to his brother’s body as well, intertwining their fingers together.
For how much he usually stated his despise for his younger brother to the world, it wasn’t the exact truth. He loved Feliciano as family. That was why he was so adverse to his friendship with Germany. The wurst lover didn’t deserve his little brother.
Feliciano whined lightly, but felt the comfort of the weight around his back and in front of him, and was able to finally relax his muscles, his gasps of pain slowly coming out less strained. Romano grunted and shifted even closer, hiding his soft blush with a frown.
Ludwig leaned over a bit, and turning Feliciano’s face towards him, he gently pressed his lips on the other’s cheek, flushing as well as he did so. “Now, sleep” he ordered gruffly.
With a groan, North Italy tried to obey, falling into a restless, nightmare–filled dream.
Above his head, Romano and Germany shared a look, and both relaxed. It was some sort of a truce for now. Until the person they both considered precious was back to being fine, then they’d resume their usual grumpy relationship.
“Thanks” Romano muttered, so softly the other Nation had a hard time hearing it. Ludwig grunted in reply, holding Feliciano’s shivering body against his own.
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(Anonymous) 2009-04-16 09:29 pm (UTC)(link)You know you're high when... (1/2)
(Anonymous) 2009-04-26 06:12 pm (UTC)(link)----------------------------------------------------------------------
“Oi, Kraut.”
“What did you just call me?”
“Are you high?”
“Shouldn't I be the one asking that?”
“I guess so.”
Germany just knew something was wrong. He was called a Kraut and accused of being on drugs on the same quarter of a minute.
“Italy, are you hungry?”
“No, I am not Hungary. Hungary is a girrrrrrrrrrl... I think.”
“That's not what I meant. Italy, you're eyes are red.”
“So is your face after you masturbate!”
Gathering what is left of his sanity, Germany slams his fist against the table that was in between him and the (usually) happy-go-lucky, “Doitsu~ Doitsu~” Italy.
“FELICIANO VARGAS! WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?!” His face still red.
“ This, pronoun. a: the one nearer or more immediately under observation or discussion b: the one more recently referred to.”
“Was. Zum. Teufel.” (What. The. Fuck.) Germany, meet headwall. Headwall, meet your 5th wife.
“Mach es dir selber.” (Go fuck yourself) Italy replied casually, his smile hinting a bit of amusement, or were those just the drugs?
“Did you just speak German?!” The bigger nation replied, shocked. (though his face wouldn't show it...
“No, it's the language most Germans use.”
And by then, Germany was SURE something was VERY VERY VERY wrong.
“H-hey Italy. Are you sure you don't want to eat? I can cook pasta for you if you want...” He offered, sounding desperate, but his facial muscles refuse to show any worry.
“PASTA? IN REPUBLICA ITALIA, PASTA EATS YOU!!”
Before Germany can do anything violent with the table (no it's not what you think... he doesn't have sex with inanimate objects. -except Austria dumbstruck from discovering Hungary's secret stash of photos, then he'll be inanimate-), the phone rang. Germany wanted to beat Italy to the phone for public safety, but alas! Faster than you can say “OHMYFUCKINGGODWHEREISCAPTAINPLANETWHENYOUNEEDHIM?!” Italy was already speaking.
“No, I'm afraid Germany's having hot mad sex with England's unicorns.”
“I AM ENGLAND YOU GIT. AND LEAVE MY UNICORNS ALONE.” the phone hissed, just loud enough for Germany to hear.
“ITALY! GIVE ME THE PHONE. NOW.” He commanded.
20 minutes and 10 rolls of duct tape later, Germany was finally able to get Italy off the phone. Thank Hitler England didn't put the phone down yet.
“I'm surprised you haven't put the phone down yet.”
“Hearing Italy's moans and screams of “GERMANYYYYYY!” and the sound of random items breaking is quite... entertaining.”
“I... I-It's not what you think!” He could imagine the scene England had in mind and blushed hard. And, he would never say it in a million years, but that isn't the only thing that was hard.
“Going back on topic, I was just wondering why you sent me wurst-printed boxers.”
“What. When did THAT happen?!” He was trying to sound calm, really. But really, he couldn't.
“Just a few seconds before I called...”
“I didn't send them, but I think I know who did.” the German said, loud enough for Italy to hear on the opposite side of the room, duct-taped. He shot him dagger-like glares, hoping they would turn real and murder the Italian, right there and then.
“Anyway, would you mind giving it back?”
“Of course I would! I need to show this the others.” There was something about the way he said 'others' that made him want to jump out the nearest window rather than go to the next World Meeting.
“Wait just a seco- Oh shit.” England had hung up. Right now, he just wanted to strangle Italy with what was left of his dignity, if any.
And that was it. He snapped.
Re: You know you're high when... (2/2)
(Anonymous) 2009-04-26 06:16 pm (UTC)(link)“It was like, totally all France's fault. Like, super to the max.” Italy said. Begging (?) for his dear life.
“I can't believe he's actually channeling Poland now. Poland! Of all the countries!” he mentally panicked.
But wait! What is that about France...? Germany ran to Italy's room, seeing only seconds later a bottle of what seems to be a kind of drug and a letter by Italy's table. It wrote:
“Dear Italy (That I would not mind having),
Here's the magical-doesn't-taste-like-English-food-medicine-that-would-make-Germany-happy pill you wanted. I'm sure Germany will finally smile and be gay (pun not intended) with you after you've drank this medicine. I am 100% sure it works because I've tried it myself, and is the reason why other nations love me so much~ Best of luck, mon cher! Tell me what happens after. (If you know what I mean.
Le Wink,
France nii-san
Germany examined the bottle carefully, feeling a bit nervous. Anything from France can absolutely NOT be good. He scanned it for any markings and when he saw the bottom, the label read, in bold black letters: “VIAGRA”
Germany was speechless. He wasn't sure if it was because of Italy wanting to make him happy, asking FRANCE for advice, France actually GIVING advice, Italy drinking Viagra, or Italy drinking Viagra only to find out that it has a different effect on Italy. Maybe it was all of them.
Then again... Germany thought for a second that Italy's haircurl was longer (and straighter?) than usual.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
A/N: Also, sorry this isn't what you wanted, OP!Anon, but I couldn't resist. ;_______; *Levels up on suckiness* I tried my best to not make it sound like I was the one on crack, but it's 2 AM here and bah. Sorry. D: I'm sure there are other more talented writer!Anons out there who are willing to fill this request properly...
Re: You know you're high when... (2/2)
(Anonymous) 2009-04-26 09:05 pm (UTC)(link)XD God this was hilarious. Weird, but hilarious.
My job here is done~!
(Anonymous) 2009-04-27 02:58 am (UTC)(link)*anti-ego!Anon: like ego!Anon, only the exact opposite. Banzai.
Re: My job here is done~!
(Anonymous) 2009-04-28 08:49 pm (UTC)(link)But seriously, Awesome fic! xD MUCH AND MANY LOLZ TO BE HAD. Two ego-thumbs up, anti-myself!
Re: My job here is done~!
(Anonymous) 2009-04-28 09:32 pm (UTC)(link)-3- /
(Anonymous) 2009-04-29 01:02 pm (UTC)(link)And thank you, all it took was a bit of marijuana to get me started.
Painful addiction [1/?]
(Anonymous) 2009-04-26 11:09 pm (UTC)(link)----
Germany woke up that morning with a strange feeling in his stomach –and he knew it wasn’t his stomach-ache coming up again, either.
It was more of a feeling of phantom pain, and that worried him.
Something was wrong, and he felt it.
What caused the uneasy feeling was the lack of a familiar presence in his bed when he awoke –a presence that was always there, at his side, in the mornings.
Feliciano.
It had turned a habit of him to sneak and slip unnoticed in his bed at night, and cuddle next to Germany, and it had been years since it had started… routine being broken only a few times before.
On his part, Germany had long since stopped opposing it, because he had started feeling more comfortable than he could admit with Italia near him, a warm routine that could still bring a flush to his cheeks despite everything.
Of course, as previously stated, there had been days when Italia had not been sleeping at his side –it occurred during national holidays, when he’d be going to sleep next to his brother, or the few times he was busy visiting his other friends, like Japan– but this time, Germany felt something was wrong nonetheless, because it was the fifth consecutive day Feliciano had not appeared at all, during the whole day.
It was probably his sixth sense developed after knowing Italia (the same sixth sense that made him buy tons of stomach–ache relievers every time he had to train Feliciano), but Ludwig had learned to trust it.
So, if his guts were right, there was going to be a problem of some nature and it was time to address it.
Still, he wouldn’t just go and seek Italia himself, because maybe his guts were wrong and Italia was just fine and sleeping with Romano in his bed, and would appear at least for lunch…
Stretching and leaving his bed, Germany quickly showered and brushed his hair, taking extra care of it, then went for his usual breakfast.
He had nothing prepared for the day –it was long since a war had happened, and he would probably sit with a book and some classical music all day – so he decided to wait for Italia in his garden.
The strange twist in his stomach didn’t leave him all morning though, as he attended to his dogs without fault and then gardened a bit, wondering why there were so many yellow birds around, and it was past midday when he decided that maybe he ought to go seek Italia.
It wasn’t normal that he wasn’t around for lunch either.
Usually, Feliciano would be all over Ludwig, asking for pasta and more pasta, but… today, and the four days before…
And Ludwig wasn’t going to admit he was missing Italia’s loudness either. It wouldn’t be like him to even think that… but it didn’t make it any less true.
Germany left his house and moved towards Venice, where the main house of Feliciano was (he had another one in Rome and another one in Sicily. The first was for both the Italia brothers, the Sicily one was mainly Romano’s), hoping to find the young man there.
Switzerland wasn’t in the house at his passage, thankfully (the other Nation still wasn’t happy of seeing him pass by), so he reached Italia without a hitch…
And it was then problems begin for Germany.
***
Ludwig looked at the opened front door with a perplexed face –even though Feliciano was quite air–headed, he never forgot to close the front door, knowing of the many thefts around the neighbourhood (god forbid some human to steal in a Nation’s house!).
“Italia? Are you there?” he called out, hesitating before entering.
He got an instant answer when a brown head popped up right in front of him, and wide eyes looked up at him.
“P–potato bastard!” Romano’s cheeks were flushed and he didn’t look fine at all. “For once… for once…” South Italy looked down, as if fighting against himself, then looked back up at him “for once, it’s good to see you”.
Ludwig felt his stomach contract painfully.
Did Romano just express… relief in seeing him?!
… was there worry in his eyes?
“Romano?” he asked, unsure of what to expect.
“It’s Feliciano” south Italy growled, wringing his hands together. “Something’s wrong with him but I can’t understand –he won’t tell me what’s wrong… I’ve been here for some days and…”
Painful addiction [2/?]
(Anonymous) 2009-04-26 11:13 pm (UTC)(link)----
Well, it was true –Lovino didn’t like to come up to Venice, so him being there was…
“What’s wrong with Feliciano?” Ludwig asked, pushing the older of the Italy brothers away to step into the house, looking around.
“It’s… it’s…” Lovino fell silent.
Germany shook his head in impatience and then felt a loud crash from the second floor. Without looking back at the Italian behind him, he swiftly moved upstairs, growing more worried as he noticed how many of the beautiful paintings adorning the house had been ripped from the walls or ruined with colourful pencils.
“Feliciano?” Germany peered inside the room, and froze.
There it was –Italia, with his back towards him, and half naked, with broken shards of a vase all around him on the ground. He was standing on bare feet, and Ludwig felt anger surge at that, doubled with worry.
“Italia! What happened!”
Feliciano slowly turned around, and Ludwig couldn’t stifle a shocked gasp.
Italia’s eyes were puffy red, a bit swollen, as if he’d been crying, and circled with dark rings –signal he hadn’t been sleeping well either– and his skin looked way too pale. Feliciano licked his dried lips, barely wetting them, Germany noticed, and blinked, as if having hard time focusing his attention on the blond German.
“Ah… Lud…wig?” Italia’s voice was quite raspy. Was he ill? Feliciano’s eyes lit up, and he skipped towards him, bouncing in happiness and pressing his naked feet over the vase’s shards.
“Feliciano!” Ludwig yelled, grabbing Italia by his arms and holding him still, before pushing him down on a chair, staring in shock at the bleeding feet. “What the hell–”
The Italian stood up again, apparently ignoring the blood and the pain, and pressed his hands on Ludwig’s coat, humming. “Coarse…” he mumbled, his tone low and so unlike him. He let his fingers stroke the cloth up and down, fisting Germany’s cross pendant and burying his face in his chest. “Hmm…” he groaned curling to get more of the feeling.
Ludwig blushed hard at the gesture, which was… somehow more intimate than anything Italia had done before, and somehow also more creepy, and pushed the younger man away, feeling the knot in his stomach get stronger. “Italia, look at me!” he ordered.
Italia giggled, not even noticing how his voice was dry, and motioned for Ludwig to lean down. When the confused and now worried German complied, he pulled up suddenly and kissed him square on the lips.
Ludwig recoiled backwards, face completely flushed, but not missing just how dry and chapped Italia’s lips were. They were also burning.
“Italia, you’re running a fever! What are you doing up?!” he growled, grasping Feliciano’s curl and pulling on it, the usual punishment he reserved for when the Italian wasn’t complying with him.
The reaction wasn’t quite what he was expecting.
Feliciano let out a loud half moan, half gasp, grabbing Ludwig’s clothes as his legs trembled and gave away under his weight. His face, already flushed, burned twice as red and his eyes glazed over. “Ahn… Germany…” he moaned, pushing his body flush against Ludwig’s.
Ludwig pulled away as if he’d been burned, stepping backwards and getting away from Italia, bumping on Lovino as he did so. The older Italian for once didn’t look angered. “He… he did that to me, too” he muttered.
Germany stared at him with shock.
“The kiss, I mean” Lovino hastily added, growing lightly more flushed. “He’s been… touchy. More than usual, I mean. He’s been out of it, too, and he looks feverish but won’t listen to me… I tried making him stand still but he started breaking furniture in anger” Lovino was quite worried and it was clear.
Usually, he was the one doing the breaking. Feliciano wasn’t anger–prone.
On the ground where he had fallen after Ludwig had pushed him away, Feliciano was groaning and passing his hands on the floor, giggling at the feeling of the neat tiles under his fingers. It looked like his giggling was not under control, as soon he was shaking, gasping and laughing.
Painful addiction [3/?]
(Anonymous) 2009-04-26 11:15 pm (UTC)(link)---
Germany was pale, and couldn’t understand what was happening.
He was terribly worried, too. What was happening with Italy? Was he hallucinating because of the fever?
Trying not to think about how Feliciano had looked when pulling his curl, Germany kneeled and lifted the Italian in his arms, rather shocked by the sudden lack of weight. He looked down, paying more attention to the naked chest, and saw just how thin Feliciano looked now.
“When did this start?” he asked Lovino, holding Italia close to his chest to prevent too much fidgeting. Feliciano went limp in his arms though, mumbling something and curling against Ludwig.
“I don’t know… I came here two days ago, and he was…” South Italy bit his lower lip, shrugging. “Depressed” he mumbled. “Then he started acting cheerful again, but was… well, like this”.
“Has he been eating at all?”
Lovino shook his head, gloomy. “Not even pasta with tomato” he answered.
Ludwig’s eyes narrowed.
“Ah… wait, Germany~” Feliciano giggled. “I want my candies~” he pointed towards a table, where a small plastic bag was.
Lovino and Ludwig exchanged looks, then the older Italian moved to the bag, picking it up and moving to his brother to give it to him. “You shouldn’t be eating sweets, you’re feverish” he murmured, but sighed in defeat, holding one of the candies for Feliciano to take, thinking it would make him calm down for a moment.
Even though Lovino hated the German bastard, he was also quite glad for his presence –he was stronger than he himself was, and was helping… damn potato eating idiot!
Germany, who had been busy ascertaining Feliciano’s conditions, froze at the sight of the small coloured candy in the italian’s hand, and quickly grabbed his wrist in one hand, still holding Italy with the other.
“What the hell–” Lovino protested, but the steely grip on his wrist didn’t ease.
“Look… let me look at that candy” Ludwig ordered.
Lovino wanted to growl and yell at him, saying he didn’t like to be ordered around, but Germany’s serious tone stopped him. He opened his palm and allowed the taller man to get a better look at the cute candy –pink and bone–shaped.
“It’s just one of his candies” he stated, but there was some hesitance in his tone. “He’s been eating this brand since I came, and–”
Ludwig’s hand trembled against his wrist, and Feliciano wriggled in his embrace, trying to grasp the candy. “My candy~” he pouted.
“This… this is not candy” Germany murmured. “Feliciano! Where did you get those?!”
Feliciano’s smile wavered and tears appeared in his eyes. His mood abruptly dropping at Ludwig’s serious tone. “I… I bought them from a nice guy” he replied, licking his dried lips again. “He’s nice, h-he keeps selling them to me whenever I want… and they taste great and I
always eat a lot!”
Ludwig felt his blood freeze. Slowly, he backed away from Lovino. “Feliciano, those are not candies. You can’t eat them anymore, got it?” his tone wavered uncertainly.
“What~? But Germany!” Italia squirmed again, but was held twice as firmly. “They’re too good, I want them! Give them to me! Now!” his tone turned to a low, almost threatening one.
“P–potato bastard? What’s with him?” Lovino stared at his brother in shock.
“That –that is ecstasy” Ludwig spit out.
He had not seen the drug before, at least not in real life, but he knew what it was. his own country had problems with it, and there had been many TV advertisings about the dangers of drugs being aired.
The fever, the dark circles and redness, and the mood swings, and his strange behaviour of touching things, and his dry lips and rough voice…
“How many did you eat already today?!” he growled at Feliciano, who was now trying to claw his way out of the man’s arms.
“Only five or six!” Feliciano yelled.
Ludwig paled.
“Lovino –go fetch water” he ordered. “Throw that away, search if he has more around the house… Lovino!” he hissed urgently, seeing as the older Italian had frozen, clenching his hand around the pill.
South Italy nodded and ran out.
“My candies! I want my candies! Let me go! Let me go!” Feliciano yelled, trying to elbow Germany in the stomach.
Re: Painful addiction [3/?]
(Anonymous) 2009-04-27 07:15 am (UTC)(link)Re: Painful addiction [3/?]
(Anonymous) 2009-04-27 04:15 pm (UTC)(link)Can't wait to see the rest!!
Re: Painful addiction [3/?]
(Anonymous) 2009-04-27 08:12 pm (UTC)(link)F5ing like mad here!
Re: Painful addiction [3/?]
(Anonymous) 2009-04-28 12:39 am (UTC)(link)MORE PLEASE! D:
<33
Painful Addiction [4/?]
(Anonymous) 2009-04-30 07:23 pm (UTC)(link)---
Germany held him still and ran towards the closest bathroom. He didn’t know when this started and as sure as hell neither of the two knew what the ‘candies’ had been, but now he knew and would have to work fast.
Feliciano was clearly dehydrated, and had not eaten, and had God only knew how many fucking pills in his system, eating more every day…
His stomach clenched in worry again.
“Germany~” Italia whined, then he was facing the toilet. “Wha… Germany, what…”
Ignoring bile raising inside him, Germany pushed Italy closer to the toilet, forced his mouth open and inserted two fingers in it. Italy’s body stiffened and arched and a second later he was kneeling on the toilet, vomiting into it.
Massaging Feliciano’s back and neck, since after the first wave, he kept vomiting on his own, Germany sat next to the Italian, hoping he had at least managed to get out some of the pills. He didn’t know if it worked well, or how fast the drug was absorbed in the organism, but he had no other ideas.
When Italy fell on the floor, gasping, sobbing and crying, he pulled it back up in his arms and wiped his face with a wet towel, keeping the other man close to his chest.
“Gh… Germany… why… why…” Italia’s voice was trembling and rasping so much it hurt Ludwig.
In that moment, Lovino appeared in the bathroom, holding a bottle of water and a pissed off expression, and more gently than anyone could give him credit, he aided his younger brother in drinking the water, slowly but not stopping until he had drank half of the bottle.
“What… what can we do?” he asked, uncertainly “I’ll seek whom he bought the pills from tomorrow” he added, his tone lowering until it resembled a hiss.
“I think it’ll be harder to have him away from the pills” Ludwig replied softly, rubbing at Feliciano’s back and feeling quite self conscious and worried. “I’ll be staying here, it won’t be a pretty sight”.
Lovino was about to say something, but seeing his brother curl in a small, weak and shivering heap, he bit his lip. It was better if Ludwig remained. He couldn’t have done it by himself, after all…
The rest of the day moved on quite fast; Germany cleaned up Feliciano’s feet and put him on the sofa whilst Lovino could clean up the house, then Ludwig forced the younger Italian to eat something, even though he protested.
Feliciano looked still deep into whatever effect the drug had, so it had been quite difficult to make him stay still, but Ludwig knew the worst would come when the effect started to vanish. He had no time to even check up on ecstasy somewhere, because he didn’t want the situation to worsen up in his absence, either.
“Germany…” Italia’s voice was a bit less dry than before, thanks to all the water he had been drinking. “Germany… where are my candies?”
“I can’t give you those candies anymore” Ludwig replied, tensing up. “But there’s some pasta in the kitchen if–”
“I don’t want pasta” Feliciano hissed, his puffed eyes narrowing in sudden anger. “I want my candies!”
Ludwig felt a small shudder run down his back at the sight, so unusual and… not fitting on the usually cheery young man. “Feliciano…” he hesitated, holding out a hand towards the Italian, only to have it swatted away angrily.
“Don’t touch me, you idiot!” Italia stood up, swaying lightly, and glaring at the still sitting Nation. “Who told you to come here? Go away! I hate you Germany!”
Ludwig ignored the pang of pain at those words, reminding himself Italia wasn’t actually in his right mind, and shook his head. “Feliciano, those were not candies, those were drugs… you won’t be getting them anymore” he added, watching Feliciano wobble out of the room.
Italia slumped against the wall, feeling his body out of control; his hands were shaking hard, and it was hard to stand up. More than that, he kept thinking about his candies, and why he couldn’t get any now. They were tasty, if only a bit strange, and they made him feel giddy, and–
“Feliciano, come back here” Ludwig called from inside the room, apparently ignoring what he had just yelled.
Italia felt tears run down his already flushed cheeks.
Re: Painful Addiction [4/?]
(Anonymous) 2009-05-01 01:11 pm (UTC)(link)Painful Addiction [5/6]
(Anonymous) 2009-05-01 01:53 pm (UTC)(link)-----
Why was everything turning so gloom now? Before the colours were so bright and everything felt wonderful under his fingers, and cuddling with Lovino had also been awesome, and it all had looked warm, and coming to him…
Now… now…
“I want my candies!” he yelled, feeling his throat burn in pain.
His body craved for something, and he knew it was connected somehow to his delicious candies, and remain without them would mean go back to how depressed he had felt the first day, when he had only bought one.
He had felt depressed for the first time in centuries –he had even started thinking of Holy Roman Empire after years since he disappeared, and that had made him cry hard, sobbing and tearing down his beloved paintings from the wall, since everything of Venice reminded him of the young blond.
Not even his brother coming home had helped, his anger spiking up… so he had bought more candies. They had kept him cheery.
Not many, at first. Just three more –they were awfully expensive, after all– but they had all been consumed in a day, much to the shock of the guy who had sold them to him (he had looked surprised, but mostly uncaring, selling him more without asking questions).
He slammed his closed fists on the wall, yelping at the pain, and kept on punching the wall. There was some sort of comfort in doing it over and over, so he kept slamming his fists hard until strong arms grabbed him and held him still, one hand circling his wrists.
“Let me go! Let me go!” he whined, nailing at the arms.
More tears were running down his cheeks, and it was painful, and it hurt, and he didn’t want to be sad!
“Stop! It’s ok!” Ludwig didn’t really know what to do other than hold Feliciano close, whispering calming words in his ears, so he simply did that, sliding on the ground and turning the Italian around so he could look at him. “Feliciano, look at me… you don’t need the candies, just breathe… it’ll be over soon, I promise, it’ll be over soon”.
Feliciano buried his face in Ludwig’s chest, sobbing pitifully. No, it wasn’t ok.
He felt shitty, his throat hurt, his feet hurt, his hands hurt, and his whole body as well, felt tired and heavy.
More so, now that he had thought about him again, the memories of his first love weren’t leaving his mind anymore.
“Sacro Romano Impero…” he mumbled, now feeling twice as bad as before for the words he had yelled at Ludwig.
The older Nation had been always nice with him, just like Holy Roman, patient and tolerant and sweet, and he’d just yelled at him something so untrue!
“What did you say?” Ludwig, who wasn’t familiar with the Italian words Feliciano had just mumbled, was left puzzling over them as the brown haired Nation clung at his chest again, crying. “Italia…”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it! I don’t hate Germany, I really don’t! I love Germany just as much as I’ve loved Sacro Romano Impero!”
Looking up and meeting the worried expression of Ludwig, Feliciano cried more, unable to understand his own reactions.
“Don’t hate me, please, don’t hate me!” he sobbed. “Don’t leave me like he did!”
The words hit Ludwig like blades.
Leave him? Like who did?
Nonetheless, his grip on the Italian’s lithe body only tightened.
“I won’t leave you. I’ll be right there with you” he whispered, grateful when the shivering and sobbing started to subside. “Italia, you’ve been high on drugs. They were not candies. They made you hyper and excited and now they’re making you feel this way… it might hurt you but it will be better not to eat those anymore”.
Brown, teary eyes looked up at him uncertainly. “D–drugs…?” the trembling hands clenched more of Ludwig’s jacket, until the knuckles were white. “N–not candies…?”
Painful Addiction [6/6]
(Anonymous) 2009-05-01 01:57 pm (UTC)(link)----
Ludwig held him even closer, not wanting to look more into the wide eyes, so filled with fright and pain and helplessness.
“It will be painful” he murmured, leaning down to brush his lips against Feliciano’s ear. “But I won’t go away, I’ll be right here with you and I won’t let you go”.
Resistance breaking down, Italia snuggled more into the hug, the comforting gesture doing nothing to quench the need racking his body. He still ached, and he didn’t even realise he had been biting on his lips until blood filled his mouth.
He just… wanted to stand up and run to his candies and eat them because they were yummy and made everything bright and–
‘No… drugs. They were drugs. Cannot eat ‘em’ he thought, trying to grasp the concept with his glazed over brain.
His grip on Germany’s body tightened.
***
Unfortunately, Feliciano’s clear thoughts didn’t last long. A few hours later, though still in Ludwig’s arms and with Lovino at his side, he was already thrashing.
“I want them! Give them to me! Drugs, candies, doesn’t matter! It hurts! It hurts!”
And it did. He craved for that light feeling, he craved for the release, something different from the pain he was feeling now, so that he wouldn’t feel this depressed, this desperate–
His body arched as if in deep pain, a kind of pain Germany and his brother couldn’t even start to know, and he clawed at Germany’s hands, then attempted to nail Romano’s face, but with the combined effort of both, they managed to keep him still until the rush of need passed.
Slumping down, tired and drowsy, Feliciano kept sobbing pitifully, unable to lift his arms again.
“L–Ludwig… nii–chan…” he chocked on his own words, lucid enough to know he had hurt both of them in his thrashing but at the same time unable to care enough other than his burning need.
“We’re still here” came Germany’s steely voice.
A hand –rough but smaller than the taller blond’s– brushed against his hair, in a soothing manner, and Feliciano whined, curling into a small ball of Italia, attempting to run from the pain.
He was so tired, but every time he closed his eyes–
“Sleep” Ludwig murmured, shifting so they were both laying on the sofa, his arms still around the Italian’s body. “We’ll be here”.
Romano, who would have, in normal circumstances, avoided the German like the plague, or insulted him, merely pressed closer to his brother’s body as well, intertwining their fingers together.
For how much he usually stated his despise for his younger brother to the world, it wasn’t the exact truth. He loved Feliciano as family. That was why he was so adverse to his friendship with Germany. The wurst lover didn’t deserve his little brother.
Feliciano whined lightly, but felt the comfort of the weight around his back and in front of him, and was able to finally relax his muscles, his gasps of pain slowly coming out less strained. Romano grunted and shifted even closer, hiding his soft blush with a frown.
Ludwig leaned over a bit, and turning Feliciano’s face towards him, he gently pressed his lips on the other’s cheek, flushing as well as he did so. “Now, sleep” he ordered gruffly.
With a groan, North Italy tried to obey, falling into a restless, nightmare–filled dream.
Above his head, Romano and Germany shared a look, and both relaxed. It was some sort of a truce for now. Until the person they both considered precious was back to being fine, then they’d resume their usual grumpy relationship.
“Thanks” Romano muttered, so softly the other Nation had a hard time hearing it. Ludwig grunted in reply, holding Feliciano’s shivering body against his own.
It would be ok.
At least, Feliciano wasn’t alone in this.
Re: Painful Addiction [6/6]
(Anonymous) 2009-05-01 02:21 pm (UTC)(link)This is so good! Awww, Feliciano! Didn't you learn not to accept food from strange men during WWII?
(if you want to write sequel with Ludwig looking for the abandoning "he", I would enjoy reading that too :)
OP
(Anonymous) 2009-05-01 10:10 pm (UTC)(link)...Have my babies.
Re: OP
(Anonymous) 2009-05-01 10:22 pm (UTC)(link)i feared it wouldn't be good at all ;_;
THANKS WRITER ANON!
(Anonymous) 2009-05-04 12:17 am (UTC)(link)YOUR A MIRACLE WRITER ANON!