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#if i am not either being bombarded with lovely hot steam so that i can actually breathe warm and moist air for once
goldensunset · 2 years
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my ideal state if it were possible would be to be constantly either showering or sleeping. or both at once. i want to live life snoozing in a warm bathtub but like also still function as a person
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countryshitposts · 5 years
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the vulnerability of immortality
Here's a filler fic that'd probably keep you guys waiting until i finally post that Asian Christmas party fic and German Empire getting pummeled
Österreich did not exist... but then he started existing.
Austria can remember the feeling of not existing at first, a cosmic entity watching a cataclysmic event in the far future. It was being displayed by the galaxies beyond him, his body as light as a star that tries not to shine as bright as the milky way that he was born in. He doesn't even have a name at first, he doesn't exist, after all. He can watch the planes all he wants without the feeling of crushing mortality pressing him into the solid grounds. He never even knows what ground feels like. He is nothing but a watcher, a silent one who has no personality nor voice in the whole galaxy. He sits, and he watches, looking at the visions with no feelings, numb yet wanting to die. He looks at the visions he is being shown, and he feels something; longing. Longing for the inevitable, he unconsciously touches the visions, full of nameless people that were either cemented into history or erased from it.
He regrets it.
He doesn't regret it.
Then he feels light absorb him, consume him and his non-existent mouth urges to scream, and so he does; he lets out a sound he has never heard from his silent self before, feeling his numbness turning into pain as he feels his cosmic body enter something else. The feeling of flesh attaches to his body like glue paste, as he feels himself seeing everything with bright new colors, entertaining yet painful to watch, only used to the astronomical purples and white blinkering dots resembling the stars, knowing if he approaches them they will becoming, big, bright, bold stars.
And his transformation stops, a flip from a switch as he is brought to a woman. He can move, he can see the world he had only seen from the visions that someone from beyond had sent him, to cope with him not existing. He was in a bundle, tightly wrapped like he would fall off, and die as he hits the floors.
Then, his memories start to drain, from the beginning of time when the big bang was - mistakenly - made, hot gases fughting, the great mother Earth forming in the volcanic hell that used to be the planet, the rains, the Ancient Sumerians and their inventing of wheels, the Macedonian Empire, the Toltecs, Mayans, the unexpected Mongol Empire conquering Eurasia through the means of horseback, the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth and its blazing glory, the Sick Man of Europe, Red China, and the End of the World, Earth becoming sickly and turning everything into ashes.
All of what he had seen- visions, the past, the vague present, the incoming future bombarding in time, all slips from his vision, like it was nothing and a switch off from his mind.
Before his seemingly uneventful birth, he didn't exist, watching everything as a nebulous cosmic entity.
Now he exists and he must live through it all, vision-less.
I am Austria, a voice inside him says, and I exist.
-
The children aren't like him
He knows just by how much they fear him
They don't invite him to play with him
Not like he cared
He prefers to read the bible
They pray using their rosaries to the God above
Something inside Austria tells him he's beyond God
-
His mother meets her end with a sickness
Something he cannot remember
He watches his mother go without a hint of sadness
Now he is all alone
-
Life in the streets is hard enough
Somehow he is still healthy despite dirty living conditions
He steals
He begs
He needs
-
Austria meets His Majesty
The second next best thing compared to the Roman Empire
He sits on his throne
Two black pairs of wings in all his glory
On a throne of gold
His stern face looking straight at Austria
He is the Holy Roman Empire
-
Life as a peasant-turned-prince isn't easy
His adoptive brothers loathe him
The castle servants gossip of him being a spawn of Satan
But Holy Roman Empire lets him stay no matter what
He loves him
He hates Prussia
-
Holy Roman Empire encourages him to follow his heart
He becomes a pastor
Shortlived
So he takes an interest in composing and playing musical intruments
Forever
-
Österreich gives his betrothed a bouquet of flowers
He says he matches her eyes
He's filled with so much love
Nothing lasts forever
-
He hears the arranged marriage
He drops his copy of the bible
He runs to the palace where his love resides
She's not there
-
Her father tortures him
By giving him an invite to Korona and Lieutvos' wedding
He stands there on the isle, cross-armed and scowling
He bites his lip, trying not to cry as his true love and a barbarian kiss
He's not going to cry
-
He focuses on his studies more
Focuses on politics more
But he cannot seem to shake off Korona's smiling face
He looks towards his abandoned poems and compositions for Korona
He hides them in his chest with a mighty shut
Even then he knows all words and tunes by heart
-
Prussia is grinding at his gears
So is his father
He takes an interest in a brand new style of art from the French lands
It helps his broken heart
It helps him heal
Unlike his music
-
He hears rumors
Rumors of Korona and Lieutvos' marriage being unhappy
Korona is afraid of that dirty pagan
Looks like he still has a chance to win her heart after all
He approaches her one day when Lieutvos was talking to the Holy Roman Empire
"Let's run away together" he says with hope in his eyes
Korona sheepishly looks away, patting her belly
"I am bearing a child" she says her voice barely a whisper
His smile fades as hope inside of him shatters
He feels the weight of loneliness crush him to dirt
He tells his servants nor family to never enter his room
He is mourning
For what
For the death of his love
-
He and Prussia fight more each day
That kingdom from afar is getting too close to the outer territories of his duchy
He plays music to let off some steam
He did not even mention her name once
Holy Roman Empire is turning to a figurehead
Österreich is God
God is Österreich
He is holy in every way
-
He attends Korona's baby's baptism
He is named Poland after his grandfather
He cannot look Korona in the eye
He hates Lieutvos every second he is here
The child has his mother and father's striking features
He can feel his world turning blurry for a second
-
He spends his time away from his land
To fight wars
A war he needs to fight for his father
Who's too gluttonous to leave the throne
He can see his pair of dark wings having the slightest tinge of white
The sign of becoming old
He wonders why an immortal being is becoming old each passing day
Will he become old
-
How dare that damned man insult the church
How dare he post such insults in a door
How dare he question his father's rule
Prussia is objecting
He is objecting too
But he can't help but somewhat agree with the man who defames the church
Lutheranism and Reformation spreads through the entire continent like a ravaging wildfire
Even the Discovery isn't as intense as this
-
War was coming to his doorstep
Holy Roman Empire finally gets up from his throne
Some of his feathers falls as he stands in all his glory
The old empire is an examplary fighter
He and Prussia see eye to eye in the dissonance
-
France wishes for Burgundy
He defends his territory
He beats and bests the kingdom at every turn
He has become powerful in his own right
He marches to Rome
To become the rightful king of the Romans
He is the true Rome
Not Russia
Not even the Holy Roman Empire
-
That Kingdom of Hungary is threatening his power
Hungary wishes for peace
He is suspicious
He wakes the first day to find him invading his land
How dare he
That is not his
-
He gains more land and power
Hungary is a distant yet close problem now
He allies and forms bonds
He plans to take Britanny
France takes it first
-
Schweiz is a stubborn woman
Fighting for her independence with a fury
At first Österreich and his family laugh at her
But she is serious
And she got what she wants in the end
He admires her feistiness
-
He, Preußen and Russia wish for more land
They target the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth
Something inside him tells him the once love of his life will never forgive him for this
Once love of his life
Now turned to dust
They make plans
-
He has second thoughts
Korona's eyes give him a look of betrayal
He hesitates
Then he remembered that she isn't his anymore
She's in love with someone else now
Not him
He has no more second thoughts after this
-
He feels pleasure rise into him as he slits Lieutvos' throat
He hears Korona's cries, calling him a traitor
He laughs, and so do the others
Yet after he murdered the former love of his life
He starts to weep
Why is he weeping
He can't even read anything without squinting
-
The Holy Roman Empire drops dead
His last feathers are nothing but pure white
No more of his black feather
He cannot feel sadness despite the fact he has shown him kindness
No more of the empire
A new era begins
-
Rhineland gives him a baby boy bundled up in blankets
Österreich says he has no use of his child
But Rhineland pleads with him to care for the boy
He does as a friend
He's unaware of the pain and suffering he will go through
Over the years
-
He clutches Confederation's hand
Still warm
His tears are flooding his eyes as their warm drops pitter patter on his skin
He has a smile on his face, a smile to encourage Confederation he can still live
"I will die" Confederation says hushed
"No you will not" Österreich manages to say "You will live"
Confederation smiles at his father warmly "I forgive you"
His hand goes limp, eyes closed, body temperature becoming cold
Österreich's forced smile drops like Confederation's lifeline
He holds his body
The boy whom had warmed his heart as a son
He cries in choked sobs
Then he screams
He screams and shouts and cries
Why didn't the doctors save this innocent boy
Why did he have to leave him alone
He goes blind
Yet he still hears him singing
-
Austria and Hungary waltz in the moonlight, away from observing eyes
"This is wrong" Österreich says as his body dips lower
"But you do not care" Hungary replies
And then they kiss
He can feel another love sparkle through the night
There is nothing wrong with this
This is heaven
This is hell
-
Being fused to your love can take some time to adjust
Yet they love each other
But they're not close to each other
They're not even beside each other
He will get used to it
-
Of course Hungary stopped loving him
What did he expect
He can feel his heart setting to stone once again
Hungary leaves him after the fall of their empire
He breaks mirrors that show his sad and pathetic self
Glass ends up over his face
He can't try to make out what's right and wrong anymore
He's alone again
All he can see are blurry shapes
-
He plays the violin
He sings old melodies lost in time never sharing them
He sees the world burn like a distant memory
Österreich tries to cope with his detoriating power
By singing through it all
Ghosts appear before him, mocking at him for the way he has turned out
He chokes
-
Österreich stands with Reich
Once a young, naïve and nice boy has corrupted and snapped
He wanted to blame his father
But he can't help but blame he himself
He helps with his plans and tactics
Helps him in the battlefield
Helps him with everything
He needs to become powerful again
At what cost?
-
The war is over
Deutschland is divided
He can see their faces but never makes their details out
The world has gone too blurry for him
He looks at his hands
Now only good for playing instruments
He clenches his fists and punches a mirror
It breaks
His hands hurt
He forgot how to live
-
Schweiz came to him in such a manner
He has to stop for a breath
Österreich can feel himself getting pulled by Schweiz
But he trusts his instincts
Österreich likes the man before him
Their kiss lights up his life
-
He has to wear glasses now
What a humiliating defeat
It seems he cannot shoot a gun properly anymore
He throws away all firearms and weapons, save for those he has treasured so greatly
He doesn't feel the slightest bit of regret
He is finally free
He has finally matured and moved on
-
He can hear him singing
Österreich goes from door to door, searching for the culprit of the voice
It is echoing in his house, a melody he has heard of many times
He opens a door, and another, and another
But he isn't there
Why will he be
He is gone and dead
Yet his ghost still lingers
Laughing at him
Österreich screams, it echoes through the house, wanting the voice to stop singing and give him peace
Silence
Then he starts singing once again until Österreich has broken down to tears
-
He swears he can hear them
The voices whispering towards him as he makes his way through the halls
They grow louder
And louder
And louder
They scream at Österreich, vowing to never forget what he has done to them
He does not scream nor react feeling numb
He doesn't remember what it feels like to live
-
Deutschland pours him a drink, delighted smile and all
Österreich clinks his glass with him as well
Everyone's having so much fun
He smiles as he takes a sip of his beer
He doesn't remember having this much fun with people
Everyone is so lively
He doesn't remember being that lively
Everyone is living and breathinng unlike those gross voices he keeps hearing
Dr. Österreich finally learns how to live.
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tarithenurse · 5 years
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Agent of Hope - 23
Your world falls into ruin together with the Strategic Homeland Intervention Enforcements Logistics Division when you find out that your boyfriend isn’t one of the good guys. Pairing: Brock Rumlow x fem!reader, Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader Contents: Errors (no, I did not spell check this time – shame on me), dealing with trauma, mental health care, feels, growth, smut, pain. A/N: So, this is one of those chapters that I call a “bridge”. Maybe that’s not the right term, but it’s needed for…reason. You know before tossing the last chapters at you. Lots of love for liking and reblogging!!
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23 - Never give up. Never back down
…   Romanoff   …
The change comes creeping in like the first light of dawn that suddenly makes it possibly to make out the shape of furniture in the dark and later adding a depth to the surface even before the colours are visible. Some days are exhausting for both [Y/N] and Natasha in each their own way. One is drained from the weekly session with the psychologist or maybe the hard physical training under the stern but kind guidance of Maria. The other, a certain redhead, finds it had to stand by. Hands off even as her love struggles with nightmarish processes that set off nightmare after nightmare until her throat is raw from crying out in anguish. No preparation can make it easier. No knowledge of the importance can soothe the Avenger when she rocks the shaking woman in the dark of night.
But that’s not the real change.
The change is the flashes of peace. The straight back and head held high. It’s the healthy thoughts that are voiced, each time with a sense of acceptance that they are the truth.
Sitting in the kitchen of the Compound, [Y/N] is allowing herself to be completely absorbed in the book she’s reading only glancing up when the glass of lemonade is empty. Clint, who’s sitting next to her, is twirling a straw around in his own empty glass but otherwise only paying attention to the take-out menu. Supposedly. Natasha is fairly certain that she’s heard him drinking even after he’d drained the jug and as such running out of options for a refill plus it’s the kind of stunt the archer has pulled on pretty much anyone who isn’t paying attention to their snack, drinks, or food.
“Mister Barton,” [Y/N] begins hyper-politely, “do you have any knowledge of what might have happened to the last half of my lemonade?”
The man puts on the perfect display of surprise spiked with such a subtle outrage at the underlying accusation that Natasha knows 100% that he’s guilty. “What? Why should I know?”
“Not buying that,” you happily announce, “so I guess I’ll use you to test out something Maria told me about.”
You refuse to tell the suddenly nervous archer what it is, merely patting him on the shoulder as you get up to make a new batch of lemonade.
…   Reader   …
Every single muscle in your body is sore. It hurts to put on a sweater. There are muscles in your back you didn’t know you had screaming at you when you bend to put tie the shoes. Hell, you can barely face going to the loo because your thighs and butt are punishing you for all the work you’re putting into the training with Maria, but at least it’s finally paying off. The former SHIELD agent is an exceptional teacher: honest, but kind without talking to you like you’re a kid. Most importantly, though, there’s an unspoken understanding of why you feel like you have to learn to defend yourself and perhaps feel like you’re in control of your own body. So that’s where she’s started.
First, she has helped you get into shape with simple cardio and strength, teaching exercises you can use on your own in the impressive gym two floors down. The second step has been to show how to use defend against simple attacks by using the other person’s body (weight and size) against them – your own stature is irrelevant or can even be used as an active benefit.
“Aaaah.” Hot water sloshes against the sides of the tub as you lower yourself into the soothing bath.
Natasha’s voice drift through the gap by the door: “Should I be jealous?”
She’s perched on the bed with the blue light from the tablet creating shadows almost as ominous as the intel she’s studying for tomorrow’s missions. Well, it starts in the morning when the present Avengers (Tony, Nat, Cap, and Clint) all leave for wherever they’re heading, and if all goes well they should be back in three days.
“Mhmmmmm…I’m having an affair with the bathtub.” The heat seeps into stiff limbs, dissolving reluctant tensions. “Sometimes we even go as far as adding bubbles to our fun.”
There’s an audible snort and you can imagine the exasperated eyeroll that doesn’t diminish her smile. Perfect, that’s how it is. Sliding deeper into the water, jaw skimming the surface as steam rises past the face, you’re completely enveloped in subtle heat and it lulls you into a drowsy contentment that pulls the eyelids down.
A rustle of clothes seems to filter in from far away before the water and you are stirred by sleek limbs as Natasha settles between your willingly parting legs, back against chest, with a quiet moan. Perhaps it’s an addiction rather than natural behaviour, but your hands are drawn to her, first massaging the tension from shoulders that hold up your world too before flat palms start stroking her arms. Her chest. The swell of her breasts where fingertips tug and twist the rapidly hardening nipples only for the warm water to soothe the skin.
She’s your friend, ally, and lover. Someone you never planned on being such an integral part of your soul and though logic dictates you could be happy without her, you simply don’t want to try. Natasha.
You love these moments when the tough hero melts like snow in your hands, head resting against your chest and mouth slightly open to release the quaking sighs of satisfaction conjured by you and no one else. Tasha is surrounded by you, laid out bare and vulnerable and easy to read. Breaths hitch, toes curl, her fingers dig into the flesh of your thighs as your fingers move faster now they’ve found her clit. She’s granted a few fingers for the core to clench around, and holy fuck, the heat fluttering around the digits that curl against the soft walls is beyond divine. Better than any bath could be.
The name on her lips as she falls apart in your hold is like a prayer. Or the praise from a goddess who has decided to adorn the life of a mere mortal, you.
“[Y/N]!” There’s a hint of a whine to her gasp. “I love you.”
The red locks are matted against her skull from the steam but still soft on your lips as you find the way to her ear. “I lo–”
Out of nowhere, the pain bombards you, starting in your head but sending rigid tendrils into the rest of your body.
Gone is the gentle lapping of the water and the comfortable weight of Natasha’s body against you. Fighting against leaded eyelids, you catch a glimmer of white and steel illuminated by a (thankfully dimmed) panel of LED lights overhead, but it’s the smell of hand sanitizer that reveals where this is. Infirmary. This time, as you try to look around again, it’s evident that you’re alone. Aware of an itch on the back of your hand, it’s with some trepidation you begin to search for the button to call for the nurse or whoever’s on duty.
What happened? You recall the bath, the sighs on Tasha’s lips before…the vision. The scene had unfolded (or will unfold) somewhere tropical, a lush jungle as a backdrop for the little houses in a village or maybe the outskirts of a town. It’s the two-story building with the flaking reddish concrete that holds Brock, so that’s where you have to go because you’re the only one that can get access to the place. But…why? There’s no logic to it as far as you can tell. Why would he let me in? But he did, or will, waiting on the other side of the door with a crazed smile as if it had been an agreement to meet. It hurts just to think about it, and not just in your head.
A door slides open with the ssshhh of vacuum, allowing the petite Dr. Cho to enter with Maria Hill in tow.
“How you feelin’?” Maria asks, phone in hand and thumb dancing on the little screen, “Promised to let Natasha know as soon as you woke up.”
Your throat is dry when you try to answer, but Cho is already prepared and stands with a glass of water with a straw in it. It’s drained before you try again. “I’m ‘kay…I guess.” Admittedly, you wouldn’t quite mind volunteering to test a guillotine, but that just means you’re alive. “Where’s Tasha? Why am I here?”
…   Romanoff   …
48 hours. Learning to wait had been a part of Natasha’s training, but the last 48 hours after [Y/N] seized up in the bathtub have been the longest and hardest to get through for the former assassin. Steve had offered she stayed back, he could ask his buddy Sam to cover, but of course she can’t accept that either. The redhead needs to stay busy which isn’t an option if she stayed by the side of the bed. Useless, that’s what Tasha would have been.
“Everything’s okay?” Clint asks, placing the last slice of cheese on the impressive sandwich he’s made.
There’s a distinct absence of weight on Natasha’s chest, a pressure she hadn’t allowed herself to focus on until now when she finally can breathe freely again. “Yeah, everything’s fine.”
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