hetalia_kink | Hetalia kink meme part 24

He comes in copious strands of white, staining it all, and Tino opens his mouth to receive whatever will fall into his mouth.

The image of Tino, dizzy from coming twice, still flustered and panting and completely covered in his come will haunt him forever, and it’s a welcome ghost.

They lay in each other’s arms, naked, feeling warmth and home. Berwald whispers things into Tino’s sharp ears. He tells him that he loves him. Tino giggles and kisses him and when he’s sure Berwald is asleep he whispers that he loves him back.

But Berwald isn’t asleep, and soon they are rutting against each other again, and Tino spreads his legs and says, “Take me”, and Berwald gulps, and nods. When he’s at his entrance he looks at the other and remembers his face covered in cum, and he can’t keep himself from thrusting into him whole, but Tino doesn’t mind. He moans and tightens and it’s so wet and warm and perfect that Berwald starts moving.

And they are one.
Tino’s cock presses against his abdomen as they fuck, but Tino says that of he touches it, he’ll come too soon. They talk about love and tightness and size and perfection and beauty, but it’s all whispers and moans and bites and kisses and talking is nothing when you can just fuck.

Then the song of ancient fathers sounds, but Berwald can’t stop.

Tino tells him no, tries to get him to stop, but Berwald hugs him tight and sinks his head into his shoulder and presses in and out and doesn’t care. Tino’s hands clench down on his ears, but it’s late.

Berwald has never been good with words, but these he sings into Tino’s ear in a low rumble, as they were inside of him forever.

He comes as the song is finished and Tino is clenched down on him and covered in his own semen, but he doesn’t get out yet. It’s still warm and nice. But when he leans down for a kiss Tino’s face is wet with tears and his mouth is frozen.

It’s Hel’s mouth.

The sun is up and he stares at the stone roof and Tino isn’t there, and a cold feeling of dread builds up in his chest. He gathers what he can of his clothes and runs.

The tavern is empty, as if there’s never been anything there.

He’s outside and stares onto the mountain. Snow covers the landscape, a snow that wasn’t there the warm midsummer night before, and it’s the deepest of winters.

As he watches the snowfall, he sings the song of ancient fathers, an echo from his lips and from his chest. He sings with the children of the mountain, there, alone.

He is confused and scared and doesn’t know which God to beg for forgiveness.

At sundown he’ll come back.

The only God he’ll need will be Tino.

He’ll steal him away from the tavern under the root of the mountain, he’s sure, and then they’ll run away and Tino can be his wife of his husband or his God, and Heaven and Valhalla and Helheim will just be fictitious terms that have nothing to do with them.

Tino’s mouth won’t be as cold as Hel’s ever again.

He’s sure.

END

Based hugely on this http://www.darklyrics.com/lyrics/finntroll/nifelvind.html#9 and my weird interpretation of it which makes no sense at all but uh. Also, Maybe Berwald is dead. I have no idea. Imagine what you want ;D

OP again.
Now I feel like an ass for comment-replying on my fills. Oh well, I guess I'll stop...
~~I'll continue to check my phone in class. I like to live on the edge xD~~

EEEEEEEEE beards! :D I fucking love Denmark's double braids... And holy crap, I didn't think it was possible for Sve to look even more manly :o

I have to say I was the most curious at how you would do Iceland's seduction attempt... and holy crap, I about died laughing. I have a serious love for overly cheesy romanticism, and this hit the spot perfectly. Slav-shooting love arrow... PFFFFT xD

And I love that Icey was kind of falling for Finland the whole time. And I love just how mean everyone is to Denmark, and how he just basically says whatever passes through his mind xD Poor guy. Can't wait to see more of this~

Awwwwwwwwwww. That's just too awkdorable. ♥ Arthur is such a good kid at heart. And Francis is so nice too. =3= And Alfred is the perfect dad. sdkjgklgjh

This just became my screen saver.

Poland in the books struck me as resembling Poland in the strips -- the government largely ignored the idea that Sweden and the USE would actually attack them, but when it happened, they fought like madmen. (And I'm only just now realising how there's echoes -- and only in the very broad overview -- of WW2 in there, albeit not nearly as much in the way of atrocities. Mostly because the soldiers who tried sacking the town were executed by volley gun.)

Thank you! I'm glad you like them!

The funny thing is that I do have an idea for England talking to/arguing with somebody over selling America to France, but I can't remember where in the timeline that happens, which means I can't figure out who he'd be talking to, because there was a power change in England at some point, and since the Baen Free CD library got taken down it's harder to do quick fact-checks. (Not that I blame them for it! But it does mean a lot of poking around trying to figure out if I've got the books with the relevant info in.)

Before we start: THERE ARE NO BAD GUYS IN THIS. I just wanted to make that clear. Not Spain, not Austria, not the psychologist or the legal system. That wasn't my intention.

"Malentendido" means both "misunderstood" and "misunderstanding" in Spanish. I wanted the first meaning for the title. Also, there's more to come, this is just a prologue!

It was Francis who found him, knuckles a red mess, nose bleeding, high off his ass and screaming against a wall.

He couldn’t believe his eyes.

He ran to him, but nothing he did could calm him down. He wondered briefly what the heck he’d taken and whether it was usually used on horses when he twisted his hand behind his back in an attempt to get him to stop and it didn’t work.

As he tried to sooth him, he rang Gilbert. He wasn’t pleased, but when he stated what was going on, he left the laughter and music that sounded through the telephone immediately and went to help him.

An hour later, they dragged a heavily sobbing and bleeding Antonio home, where they sank his head in water and patted his back as he puked something that didn’t even smell like anything but chemicals.

***

Gilbert paced the room. Francis sat on the couch beside him.

Antonio screamed.

“They’re taking him away! They’re—they are going to take Lovi away from me!”

Francis held his shoulder, unsure what to do. He’d had to comfort Antonio before, of course, they’d all had to comfort each other at some point, but this was different. Antonio was about to get his son taken away.

“I—I never touched him that way! I would never do such a thing!”

Francis kissed his temple, “We know, mon frère, we know you wouldn’t” he said; but Gilbert stopped pacing, and pierced him with those red eyes of his.

“You better hadn’t” was what he said.

Antonio jumped up immediately and lunged at Gilbert, who received a heavy blow to his cheek before Francis and him managed to sit him down again.

Gilbert snarled. “What? What is it? You were always touchy with the kid, even when he clearly told you to fuck off!”

“He’s TEN!” screamed Antonio, his face red in anger and tears.

Francis glared at Gilbert. “He’s his son. Antonio just wanted to be close to him—I don’t see anything wrong with—“

Gilbert laughed sardonically. “Says the man who’s been accused of rape twice”

Francis just looked at him, his eyes tired and disappointed. He finally said, his voice a sad murmur, “So that’s what you think, huh? Just like everyone else, then? Fine. But this isn’t about me. It’s about our friend losing his son, so pull your shit together or leave.”

Gilbert looked shocked for a second, then sighed and pinched his nose.

To be fair, Francis had never raped anyone. He had flirted inappropriately and promiscuously, sometimes let his hand linger too long in one place or the other, enough to make someone uncomfortable; but he had been accused of a crime by accident once, and, even though they eventually caught the real perpetrator, that had stayed on his criminal record and made things worse for a sexual harassment lawsuit later—one that had been dropped by the other party as soon as they knew just how much damage it would do.

Arthur—the accusatory—had just been pulling a stunt at the time, without knowing how bad it really was, but the damage had already been done; it summed with the reputation of promiscuity he had, and “rapist” was what would be whispered behind Francis’ back forever.

Gilbert knew this, but he also knew how Lovino looked every time Antonio stroked his hair or hugged him or took his hand, and that child wasn’t happy.

He walked to the couch, sat down next to Francis—the one who looked less likely to punch him, that is—and lay back. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry. Just—Toni… did you? Even just… maybe when you were drunk or…”

The Frenchman glared at him, but Antonio answered first, his voice broken. “No. No, I never did.”

And Gilbert believed that look in his eyes. He had known Antonio all his life, and the man just couldn’t lie when staring right into your face, not like this.

“Then Lovino will tell them, right? He will… he will say that you didn’t!” Gilbert tried.

Antonio buried his head in his hands. “He already did”.

The other two just looked at him. “Pardon?” said Francis, dumbstruck.

“He has already told everyone that I didn’t touch him. They… they just don’t believe him. They say he’s… they say he has some trauma and lies compulsively… that he’s scared that I’ll do it again or… Oh god, what am I going to do?” he paused, the sobs building up in his voice again, making it shaky and wet as he choked out his next words, “Roderich has this psychologist, and he keeps saying that Lovino is just scared and that it would be better if he went to live with him and his wife and Feli, and Roderich believes the guy, you don’t know how he looked at me, like I was a monster, and he’s going to press charges and I… I’m going to lose Lovino!”

Gilbert’s face twisted in anger. “Specs is doing this?!”

Antonio nodded.

Gilbert stormed off, leaving them both alone.

***

“Gil!” said Erszébet, surprised to see him at her door. She looked tired and a little weary.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Gilbert snarled back.

She sighed. “I assume it’s about Lovino?”

“Where’s your fucking bitch of a husband?”

“Calm down, Gil, let me—“

“Like hell I’m going to calm down! Do you know how Toni is doing right now?!”

Her face changed. It turned angry.

“Do you know how Lovino is doing? The kid has been abused and you fucking idiot keep defending the one that most probably did it, because, because WHAT? Because of brotherhood and male bonding? What the fuck is even wrong with you, Gil?”

Gilbert punched her.

She punched back.

It was a good thing that Roderich wasn’t home, or this would have ended up being extremely bad for Antonio’s case; but Erszébet was enough of a good person not to account for this. She just wanted fairness.

A few punches and a minor nasal fracture—Gilbert’s—later, they sat on the couch and talked.

“Gilbert, just… I know he’s your friend. I know he’s… hell, you and Francis and him are almost like brothers. I know. I didn’t want to believe it, either. He’s my friend too, you know, and Roderich is also fond of him. But… but there’s something wrong with Lovino, Gil, and you have to have seen that. Please don’t think we want to do this. We aren’t doing this against Antonio; we’re doing it for Lovino. Please.”

“He already said that Toni didn’t do anything…”

Erszébet grunted in distaste. “Just think for a second, okay? He’s a child. If he declares that Antonio did touch him and Antonio still wins the trial, he’ll have to face consequences, and who knows of what magnitude. And if Antonio loses the trial, he’ll lose the only father figure he’s ever known. Children don’t like changes—the psychologist has explained this to us already. And besides… you know the kid. He’s proud like nothing. Kids his age already talk about this stuff… what if he doesn’t want this to be known, what if he’s ashamed?”

Gilbert thought, and he doubted, but he remembered the look in Antonio’s eyes when he’d said he didn’t do it, and shook his head, standing up.

“This isn’t over. I know Antonio didn’t do it, and if Roderich and you are going to be this unawesome, then okay. We’ll manage.”

With that, he stormed out of the house.

Um. Tell me what you think. Also, take care of the massive wave of angst heading your way!

OHMYGODS Poor Toni...
I'm guessing this is an AU, right?
And who in the world did Francis get accused of raping?
Angst? What angst? What is this angst you're talking about? *has pools of tears on the edges of anon's eyes*

I am not OP, btw.

_{Are Mattie and Al Francis' sons here or are they Arthur's? Perhaps they're both their guardians? Or are you only focusing on Toni and Lovi? Me want chibi!Ludwig and chibi!NA Twins, though.}

Forgot to ask. If Feli's also Toni's son, then why is he in the custody of Mr and Mrs Edelstein?

Whoa-what-thanks! Yes, yes this is AU. I totally forgot to mention that in the notes. I actually forgot everything. I should never again post in a haste xD To your questions... I have no idea who he got accused of raping, but while I wrote it, I sort of thought of Liechtenstein... although hat would imply that someone did rape her, and I couldn't do that to her, so let's just say that it was some non-Hetalia person.

Lovino isn't his biological son, but it'll all be explained later on. About the NA Twins and Ludwig, uh, I'm sure I'll figure something out. Somehow. Uh.

Thanks for the comment! :D

This is fantastic so far, anon! I'm madly in love with this and can't wait for more.

Wow, this is incredible! Poor guys...I can see how they all got caught up in a mess of conflicting personalities. I like that nobody's demonised. Keep writing!

This is a great idea, anon, and I'm starting something and going to try and see how I do. However, how would you feel if some of the small details were different, i.e., the divorce is not so bitter?

Soon they were back in Africa and America was seriously starting to detest the heat; with the sweating his back was comparable to Niagara Falls, plastering his shirt to his back and forcing him to abandon his bomber jacket. Totally not cool, man.

At least England wasn't faring any better.

Although those shorts were very distracting. Especially with beads of sweat running down them... He really had to fight to keep himself from admiring England's legs. They were so smooth...

"The hell you looking at, wanker?"

"Nothing!"

***

As they crouched in the high yellow grass, America had to conclude that CAR - because really, Central African Republic was way too long for casual conversation - was probably the most heavily militarised target England had had so far.

"So what now, genius?" he asked.

"Now, we need a set of stereos and lots of rope."

***

Taking over CAR required a lot more effort than one might think and America spent most of the takeover period complaining about rope burns in his hands.

To which England quite bluntly told him if he wanted to draw the military away from the capital, he was quite free to take them for a hike.

As far as America was concerned, rope burns were the lesser evil compared to running around the country dodging bullets.

Distracting the soldiers and the Nation by playing Pygmy music really shouldn't have been that effective.

Although that dancing had been pretty cool.

***

"They're exquisite, aren't they?" England asked somewhat dreamily.

America looked up from his heavenly cup of coffee and blinked and his companion who was leaning over a glass case in the corner, back to him.

He felt himself blushing as his gaze slid along England's legs and behind.

"Ye-yeah," he squeaked, checking his nose for nosebleed.

"It's been ages since I've seen truly big diamonds."

Damn, England was such a girl.

***

He had sought comfort from England's sudden girlishness by going to the cellar to bother CAR, generally by playing obnoxious music; like Justin Bieber and the trolololo song.

Russians could be surprisingly entertaining. Maybe he would have to go for a drink with Russia sometime. It would be hilarious if he got the taller Nation to sing the trolololo song.

He would just need to remember to stock up on vodka.

***

America had taken to doodling elephants all over CAR's paperwork out of boredom while England had once again taken refuge under the work desk. Finally having had enough of the scratching sounds and cheerfully whistled rendition of Won't Get Fooled Again, he peeked under the table.

"The fuck are you doing, England?"

The green-eyed Nation blinked at him it surprise and America raised an eyebrow at the sight of the headlamp on other's head and a Swiss Army Knife in his hand.

"Leaving my mark," England offered.

"You said that before but what the hell does it mean?"

England gave a long-suffering sigh as he pulled himself out from under the table rolling his eyes, handing America the headlamp. "Take a look."

So America crawled under the desk, shining the light on -

"... Is that three unfinished lions?"

"Of course you git. What else could it be?"

"Dude, you've been carving your Royal Arms under every damn Nation's desk?!"

"But of course."

***

They took their leave from CAR by simply throwing a few knives into the cell they had tied their colleague and bodyguards up in. Their response to this kindness had been another load of French swearing and something that sounded like actual curses.

The moment they were back in England's study, a sudden thought hit America.

"Does my desk have your Arms under it?" he asked in horror.

"It's actually under your sofa," England answered cheerfully as he added the flag to Central African Republic, looking smug. "You spent more time on it than on your desk anyway."

"... I'm not fat, England!"

"You just keep thinking that if it makes you feel better, love."

There, at the beginning of the last part, it should say:

Tino cries out his name again, and Berwald imagines that tight force clasping down on his cock, and that does it; as soon as he’s sure Tino is finished coming, he scrambles up to his knees, positions them at the sides of the troll’s chest, fists one hand into his hair and the other on his cock and jerks himself off in his beautiful flustered face.

lol I suck. I also apologize for the ridiculous amount of typos. I just noticed--I was in a hurry when I posted it and I thought that if I didn't post it that very second I wouldn't ever post it and. Uh. Sorry.

This is beautiful and I love it to pieces. Waiting eagerly for more, good job nonnie <3

I posted this on my tumblr: squirreltastic.tumblr.com/post/43876796678 and I'll post it here for you! It's young Ladonia's POV

~~~

The one and half year old is sitting outside on the sidewalk with some chalk and he’s drawing. It’s a nice enough day, nice breeze and enough shade to make the high temperature on the thermostat livable. As the hours move on the boy fills up the side walk. Apples show up a lot, in strange and normal colors. He draws princesses with pointy hats and knights. He’s in the middle of drawing a dragon when a shadow falls over him. He looks up and sees a woman, she’s got short hair and a kind smile.

“Mama” he reaches up and his chalk smudged hands don’t deter her from picking him up. He nestles on her hip.

“Time to come inside, your show is about to start.” He’s sad to leave his drawings but his Mama doesn’t lie to him and so he gets excited for the Muppets.

Inside it’s hard for him to see, his eyes have to change but he’s put down in the living room and his Mama comes with a wash cloth to clean his hands and to wipe down his sweat. His big brother is sitting and reading a book. He can’t read all the books his brother can yet but he will someday. Mama gives him some juice, apple, his favorite. His Papa said that when they were waiting for him that Mama always wanted apples and then he showed up with a little apple on his leg. Apple’s were his favorite everything. Mama had even made him a apple pizza once for his special day.

Elmo started to talk and he watches the television. Papa isn’t home until after Muppets. Mama is in the kitchen, he can hear her making loud noises and he waves his arms around with the puppets on the television. His brother left to help her and it’s a commercial when he comes back with water for him.

The door opens and it’s Papa! He gets up and runs to him. Hugging him around the legs.

“Ah hey,” big hands big him up and he settles on his Papa’s hip. Papa works everyday and comes home and smells like warm wood. Mama always smells like the house. Brother smells like his school but most of the time both he and brother smell like ‘healthy young boys’.

Papa walks with him on his hip into the kitchen. Mama kisses Papa home. They talk about stuff that he doesn’t care about so he wiggles down and goes to find his brother. They end up watching the last of Muppets together and his brother shows him the pictures in his books. Looks like someone is running away from something mean. It would be scary but he’s brave and he doesn’t get scared. Dinner was started but ‘it’s going to be a long while yet’. Sometimes it takes hours and hours for dinner to get done. Mama and Papa walk around the house holding hands like you are supposed to do when you cross the street, he doesn’t think they have to keep up with each other but they don’t let go no matter where they walk to. Brother talks about his school with Papa and sits next to Papa on the big couch. He’s not jealous but still he has Mama pick him up and he sits on her lap.

He looks around, and a bird outside the window catches his eye, he lays his head on his Mama’s chest and listens to her heart. They decide to go for a walk together. He’s not thrilled but he can show Papa his drawings outside.

He explains about the prince and how he’s eaten the last magic apple and soon he’ll face the dragon and when he looks, he know that Papa gets it. Papa always gets it.

Mama and Papa hold hands again but he only holds hands when they cross the street. They have a neighbor with a little dog and Mama takes him over to see. It’s small now but Mama says it’ll grow up like he will, big and strong.

When he asks if they can get a dog Mama and Papa share one of their looks and tell him maybe. Which he knows probably will mean no but he tries not to be disappointed about it.

They end up by the creek, all four of them have their feet in the cold water. He splashes around a little and brother watches him. He’s too tired to walk back, it feels really hot out. But it’s okay because Papa carries him home. He likes being carried. Mama is soft and she bounces around with him and Papa is firm and can carry him longer. Mama and Papa talk and sometimes brother talks but he just wants to go home.

When they finally do get home it’s time for his nap. He sighs and even though he is tired he doesn’t want to sleep.

What if they leave without him? Have dinner!? It’s unthinkable! He promises himself he won’t go to sleep, not for a second but Mama has his favorite pillow and Papa covers him up with his nap blanket and clicks the light off. The fan twirls and Mama’s smile and Papa’s kind eyes are the last things he sees.

Next time he’ll put up a better fight, next time.

uvu my teeth are all rotted this is so damn cute~

also sweden/ukraine is such a cute couple nawwwww XD

Cute as usual, a!a! I do love England's insanity. (I was a little bothered that he may have defaced the Resolute desk, though. Thank goodness it was just the couch!)

Russians are entertaining. I think it's because they traditionally favor big splashy stuff like circuses. This fic is so informative. I never knew the Russians were the source of the LOL face.

You know, I hadn't meant to go so long without commenting, particularly as this is so enjoyable. I am sorry for that- you'd deserve better even if this wasn't so much fun.

And I am loving this- England is just beautifully crazy here, and America is the worst attempted voice of sanity ever. They're hilarious. And the schemes are incredibly creative. I have no idea how you come up with this stuff, but its wonderful.

I don't know what else to say at this point, so I'll just repeat that you've done a magnificent job so far and I look forward to seeing what you come up with next.

Oh no, poor Peter, that last chapter... So heartbreaking the whole scene Tino trying to comfort Peter, really good emotion.

And I'm just loving the romance going on here too.

Pretty much exactly what the title says. Anon would like to see an AU based on Brave with Wy in the place of Merida and Hutt in place of Elinor. I'd like if Wy's motivation was something like she's frustrated with his attitude and wants to take him down a notch but it doesn't have to be that.

Bonus: Hong Kong fills the role of the witch

second!

Hetalia kink meme part 24

Under Bergets Rot [4/4]

:D :D :D

Re: France/America Alfred single DAD (5c/6)

OP

Re: Poland and Lithuania, Freeze-Thaw Erosion.

Re: Volatile Reactions

Malentendido- Prologue [1/2]

Malentendido- Prologue [2/2]

THIS. IS. AMAZING.

Re: THIS. IS. AMAZING.

Authornon here

Re: Malentendido- Prologue [2/2]

Re: Malentendido- Prologue [2/2]

Re: England/America Falling for your Divorce Lawyer

The Conquest List [5/22(?)]: Central African Republic, UKUS

Under Bergets Rot [4.5/5]( aka Author!Anon forgot something)

Re: Malentendido- Prologue [2/2]

Apples [1/2]

Apples [2/2]

Re: Apples [2/2]

Re: The Conquest List [5/22(?)]: Central African Republic, UKUS

...And the OP shuffles in late

OP

Wy, Hutt River - AU based on Brave

Re: Wy, Hutt River - AU based on Brave