#stone_writes

[robultrash]

A Void (MTT Chapter 1)

Description: Vladimir and Dimitri have finally escaped the clutches of middle school, and have entered into the chasm that is Freshmen year. Friends for years, these two have to work together to conquer one of the hardest challenges to humanity: upperclassman. It’s a roller coaster of excitement, fear, and anxiety, will they be able to make it together?

Trigger Warning for this Chapter: Minimal Homophobia

Freshmen year is like a time in space that doesn’t exist within our earthly realm, but everyone must pass through and emerge from the otherside, leaving behind the handheld pencil sharpeners and pen grips of middle school, but still unable to access the honor and lockers that aren’t filled to the brink with school supplies of Highschool. An empty space where they were doomed to float around, haunted by both the past they could never obtain again, and the future that was just barely out of their grips. Freshmen year was the void of nothingness from with only greatness could escape.

Or, at least, that's how Vladimir would describe it to Dimitri while they walked home from school together.

“You’ve put a lot of thought in that, is that what you do instead of study?” The Bulgarian retorted dryly. At his words the strawberry blonde frowned, feeling the tension hanging over them like a concrete block, waiting to fall down and smash one of their skulls in a firework display of blood and brain matter.

Okay, perhaps his imagination was a bit too wild today.

“What’s biting your ass?” Vladimir asked, adjusting the heavy book bag on his back. Dimitri had begged him to wear it over his shoulder, like everyone else, but the damn thing was large, and it hurt his shoulder to do so. The Romanian didn’t understand the pressing need to carry it like that anyways. Who was actually watching to see how a 15 year old carried his bag? And certainly it would do no good to his posture. But when he questioned the other boy about it, he grew defensive and pissy, so Vladimir had decided to drop it.

“Maybe you, because you’re surely a pain in mine.” Dimitri grumbled under his breath. Vladimir was really worried now. He knew perfectly well how cynical Dimitri could be, but normally when they were together like this, he would relax a bit. They had been best friends for years now, so while the ebony haired boy walked, his back hunched and staring at the ground, Vladimir could tell something happened that day at school. Now, it was his job to figure out what.

Vladimir picked up his pace to stand in front of Dimitri, stopping him in his tracks. The boy looked up, scowling.

“Stop shitting around, we have homework to do, and my Mom’s gonna worry.” He said, trying to shove Vladimir out of the way. It was more of a shrug than anything though, as he tried to trudge on, but Vladimir simply hurried back in front. At least he knew that Dimitri wasn’t mad at him, if he had been, he wouldn’t have been so kind with his pushing around.

“We both know perfectly well we’ll end up playing video games before we even open our bags, and your mom knows you’re with me. You’re always with me.” Vladimir added the last part with a caring smile, one of his canine’s poking through. Dimiti momentarily softened at the smile, and Vladimir was sure he had gotten through, but the tender look quickly vanished into a mean glare that the Romanian knew was not directed at him, but still received the full blow of it because of proximity.

“Yeah, well, maybe that’s a problem.” Dimitri sighed out, before pushing past Vladimir again. The boy’s eyes suddenly filled with hurt, and had he been a man of weaker resolve, he might have retorted back with a nasty remark, or worse, started crying like he felt like doing. But, Vladimir was convinced this was an issue bigger than his words, and knew it wouldn’t be resolved if he got angry and walked away. After all, best friends stick it out, through thick and thin. And Vladimir was Dimitri's bestest friend.

Vladimir once more, moved himself in front of Dimitri, stopping him for a third, and if Vladimir had anything to say about it, last time, before he talked about what was going on. The boy’s red eyes stared into the other’s green one’s with determination that unhinged Dimitri slightly, making him take a step back, before looking away from them.

“I want to know what’s going on. You’re not normally like this.” Vladimir said, softening just a bit, seeing that Dimitri was at least relenting somewhat. He crossed his arms, waiting for the other to answer. There was a long moment of silence between them. If anyone had been around, they may have stepped in to make sure they weren’t about to fight.  A few cars passed, and Vladimir noticed that Dimitri was studying each on as they did, as if looking for someone or something.

“Did something happen today?” Vladimir asked, trying to get the other to say anything. As freshmen boys, there was mandatory things that had to happen, they had to get crushes (and rejections) from older peers, they had to be bullied, to a small degree, by older peers, and they had to be shoved against a wall at least once, usually on accident. Of course, it could be any number of things, maybe it had nothing to do with school. Maybe something had happened at home, or his mom had found his stash of manga. Not that it was inappropriate or anything, it’s just Dimitri didn’t like to share his interests with people. Except Vladimir, of course. He knew everything about the other boy. Except what was bothering him in the moment.

Dimitri was still silent. The guy could be silent for a long time. He could not talk for hours if he was reading a book, or if he was around strangers his voice would get so quiet that he’d end up having to repeat himself three times before the other party would just give up, nod and smile. Vladimir took a step forward, trying to fill the space in between them that had actually gotten bigger since the start of the silence. Dimitri noticed immediately, and took another step back.

“I just…” Dimitri trailed off. Vladimir wished he could just reach into the other’s brain and see what he was trying to say, what he experienced or thought must be reeling through his mind like a movie, because the boy was spacing out, recalling whatever it was that was making him so angry and defensive. Vladimir was growing frustrated. He just wanted to get home and enjoy his friend properly, like they always did.  He didn’t need this pain in Dimitri to be hanging over him.

Dimitri could see he was not getting out of anything anytime soon. Curse his unfrailed nerves making him tense, causing him to lash out. But it wasn’t totally his fault, the Romanian was being nosey, and Dimitri had the mind to make that clear.

But, he didn’t want to. He wanted to tell the other what had happened today, how it left him confused, and a bit nervous. Freshman year was hard enough, he didn’t need anymore grief. And, if he told the other, he wouldn’t have to deal with it alone. He couldn’t tell his mother, so, maybe this was his best option?

He took a deep breath, before clutching the front of his shirt. “Let’s talk at your place, your parents are out, right?” He asked. Vladimir seemed unwilling to back down for a second, contemplating whether or not it was just a way to change the subject, but he finally backed down, nodding his head. He knew that Dimitri was probably looking for privacy.

“Yeah, they’re both at work. But you better tell me what’s going on, Aleksandrov, or I will actually punch you in the face.” The other threatened with absolutely no truth behind it. He would and had willing punched Dimitri in the face before, but he never would if it was something that was seriously bothering Dimitri. Unless like, it was over something stupid. If Dimitri was being a dick over something stupid, Vladimir reserved the right to punch him.

“Fine, whatever, let’s just hurry.” Vladimir’s house was closer, and empty, and the Bulgarian just wanted to be alone, well, as alone as one can be with Vladimir Popescu nearby. The guy had enough energy for three people at times. It was actually exhausting, and it was why Dimitri didn’t have any other friends, or, at least that’s the excuse Dimitri gave. The truth was he just was shy. He and Vladimir were only friends because their mother’s drank tea together on the weekend’s, it was a forced friendship, one that neither one regretted. Usually.

At Vladimir’s house, they threw their back bags off upon entering the doorway, confirming they would pick them up before Vladimir’s parents got home, knowing perfectly well they probably wouldn’t.

“Want to go to my room?” Vladimir asked, gesturing towards the stairs. Dimitri shrugged, before following the other up. The whole house smelled of cinnamon, making the boy’s noses tickle. Vladimir would have made a comment about it, wanting to joke that a cinnamon ghost was haunting the house, condemning them to a lifetime of sneezing, but when he looked back at Dimitri, he was still looking downtrodden, and he decided not to try.

They walked into Vladimir’s room, a familiar place for both of them. The place was decorated with different things, each item expressing a completely different mood from the last. He had posters ranging from heavy metal bands, to classic rock ones. Pictures torn from books and magazines were taped to the wall, most of them talking about some type of magic or spell, Vladimir was a heavy believer in the supernatural. His bed was supposed to have a blue comforter, but that was laying on the floor opposite to the visible side of the bed. His sheets were tossed around, and his pillow draped over the side like a fainted women. The floor was littered with trash, clothes, books, papers, and art supplies. Truly, the room belonged to the Romanian.

“Alright, sit on the bed, and tell me what the heck is wrong with you.” Vladimir insisted, taking a sit at his desk, sitting in the chair backwards so he could look at the other. Dimitri walked over to the bed, careful not to step on anything, which was hard considering how cluttered it was, before sitting on the bed. He knew this bed well. Sometimes, he would come over just to take a nap in it. His mother didn’t like naps, which they both thought was silly.

“You really are too nosy.” Dimitri said, before chewing at one of his nails. He was about to rip one off when a shirt hit him in the face. Dimitri, shocked, turned to glare at the Romanian, who wasn’t smiling, but amusement still filled his eyes.

“Don’t bite your nails, and don’t call me nosy. I’m really worried about you.” The last words made them both grow nervous. Concern was common between the two, they both could get themselves into deep trouble. Vladimir was snarky, and Dimitri was secretive. It worked well together, but on their own they could easily manage to get grounded for a week, or a detention.

This was different thought.  Vladimir was getting the feeling this wasn’t something Dimitri was in trouble with, he wasn’t going to be punished. It was something else, a new battle they maybe hadn’t faced before. But together, he knew they could do anything.

There was a long silence, Dimitri unsure what to do or say, and Vladimir was staring at him expectantly. Finally, the Bulgarian sighed, reaching into his pocket.

“Some idiot put this in my locker.” Dimitri said, unfolding the lined sheet. His fingers shook a bit, and he didn’t really feel like rereading it, but Vladimir was annoying and pushy and unavoidable.

Vladimir looked at the note curiously, standing up to grab it from the other, but Dimitri quickly pulled it against his chest, hiding it from the other.

“Hey, get away. All it says is that I need to...quit being so…” Dimitri trailed off, not wanting to continue. He looked down at his lap, before dropping his arms, though still keeping a close eye on Vladimir to make sure he didn’t make a lunge for it.

“So what?” Vladimir asked, moving to sit on the bed, knowing better than to try and rip the note away, but hoping to sneak a peek at it. He wasn’t sure what it was going to say, but he knew he already didn’t like it, and by Dimitri’s reaction, it wasn’t something as simple as ‘stupid’.

Dimitri scooted away from Vladimir. “So...Gay.” Dimitri sighed, before angrily balling up the paper and throwing it at the wall. Vladimir’s red eyes followed the paper as it hit and landed. He was a bit unsure about all this. Dimitri, for one, didn’t act gay. There was no way to act gay, unless he was kissing boys and stuff, which Vladimir would totally support if he did, but he wasn’t, so that didn’t make much sense. Overall, Vladimir just wasn’t sure what to say, so an awkward silence fell over the two boys that usually couldn’t be forced to stop talking to one another.

“He’s just an idiot anyways, he doesn’t know shit.” Dimitri finally spoke up, lowering his voice as he swore, just in case Vladimir’s parents came home. Vladimir nodded in agreement, before looking at his friend.

“I don’t really think it’s something you should worry about anyways. How do you act gay? You can’t act gay unless you do gay things.” Vladimir explained, waving a hand in dismissal.

“Right? I don’t do anything like that.” He said with a stern nod, before a smile finally broke on his face. “He was probably just trying to scare me, or embarrass me. Well, it didn’t work.” Dimitri lied, before pushing himself off Vladimir’s bed.

“I’m probably straighter than he is, I love girls.” He declared, before laughing. Vladimir laughed nervously as he watched the other stand. He didn’t know who left the note, or why, but he was willing to believe it was a one time incident.

“Yup! Only someone who is repressing gay thoughts would be so snide as to accuse someone of being gay!” Vladimir followed up, knowing his words to be true based off of things he read on the internet. He didn’t really know if that was true or not, but it made more sense than someone just being a malicious bastard.

“We’re so straight, we don’t need to do that stupid shit.” Dimitri remarked, before deciding to change the subject. He decided that he was freaking out over nothing. This was just the Freshman scene. Everyone was called gay, at least once during this time. He would just need to let it roll off his shoulders. Plus, Vladimir seemed to agree that he was very straight. They both were. And the straightest thing anyone could do in this type of situation is to simply let it go.

Yeah. Let it go…

[robultrash]

LuxBul with number 38 from the drabble meme please?

Here you go! It’s not exactly as the prompt said, but I eventually landed where it was supposed to be!

Also, off screen in the end, Bulgaria drop kicks Luxembourg for his shitty humor. 

Prompt: “You fainted…straight into my arms. You know, if you wanted my attention you didn’t have to go to such extremes.”

Dimitri stormed outside, each step filled with rage and fury as he walked down the stairs. Behind him, he could hear his boyfriend calling after him. Despite knowing he was being followed, he refused to turn around, continuing on his journey to fuck far away from that building.

Luca continued to run after, breathless as he caught up. “Dimitri!” He yelled, trying to get the other’s attention. He watched as the man aggressively began to pull a pack of cigarettes and light out of his pocket. The sun’s heat made it hard for Luca to catch his breath. So he was grateful when the man finally stopped walking away. He was at his car, furiously lighting a stick.

“God, did you not hear me yelling?” Luca accused, resting his hand on the black car in order to take a moment to return to a normal breathing pattern. Except, he didn’t get the chance, as he immediately had to pull away, the car having burned him. He winced and pulled his hand close. It was scorching out, which probably wasn’t helping Dimitri’s attitude problem.

“That bastard is a fucking moron, I can’t believe he would say that shit.” Dimitri complained before taking a drag from the cigarette. He was tapping his foot impatiently. He was so pissed at Sadik. He had half a mind to go and beat his ass right then and there in front of everyone. The man was old, he could take him. And while his anger was in no way directed at Luca, he was a bit irritated that he would follow him out for no reason. He had obviously left to be alone, why was he following him?

Luca nodded, even though he thought Dimitri was being a bit harsh. He must not have slept well, or perhaps it really ways the heat. Whatever it was, Dimitri was in a bad mood. Normally that would mean giving him space and letting him calm down on his own, but he didn’t want to have to answer for Dimitri’s behaviour, since he could practically feel all eyes landing on him when the other stormed out of the room, furiously swearing as he did. “Are you going to go back in? We didn’t finish the meeting.” He asked, starting to sweat. He didn’t recall it being so hot when they entered the building, but that had been an hour ago, so he couldn’t be too surprised.

Dimitri scoffed and rolled his eyes, lightly tapping away the ash that was building up.  “Fuck no, I’m not giving him the satisfaction.” He knew it was a bit childish to storm off like that. The adult, mature thing would have been to just ignore his comments, or walk away calmly. But Dimitri was on edge all day. He wasn’t sure why, but he had felt like something bad would happen today. This must have been the incident.

Luca wasn’t happy with his answer, but didn’t argue with it either. What could he do? Dimitri was a stubborn mule at times. He sighed and leaned against the car next to Dimitri, careful not to touch any of the metal. He didn’t really want to stay out with him, it was very hot and his mouth was already growing dry just at the thought, but he it didn’t feel right leaving his boyfriend behind. He didn’t really know if he should say anything, or simply ride this wave out. As a compromise, he snuck the hand closest to Dimitri into his free hand and held it lightly.  A wordless comfort for him. Despite Dimitri’s anger, he didn’t pull away.

They stood like that through two and a half cigarettes. Both of them were sweaty messes, and in normal circumstances they would have already went back into the air conditioned building in order to get away from the hell beating down on them.

The time it took for Dimitri to finally calm down was long and nearly unbearable. Luca didn’t even notice that his head began to feel light. He leaned against Dimitri for support. Dimitri took it as another sign of affection. He decided he didn’t want this silence to continue to hang over them, not when Luca was clearly trying so hard to make him feel better.

“Ugh. Let’s just leave.” He suggested. Luca barely looked up. He suddenly wasn’t feeling so good. He opened his mouth to speak, but Dimitri wasn’t looking at him.

“That fucker isn’t going to admit he’s wrong, and I won’t admit he’s right. No one will miss us anyways. Let’s get-”

He was suddenly cut off as Luca’s whole weight fell into him.

“Woah-!” Dimitri fumbled with trying to catch him and keep him up right, relying heavily on the car beside them to help catch the weight of the man. He was much taller, but he had been bending down a bit to lean on Dimitri, making things a bit easier. He immediately moved the body to the ground, before panic finally began to settle into him.

“Luca? Luca??” He yelled, looking over his body for any reason as to why he might have passed out like that. He then looked over his face, which was red and sweaty. Dimitri began to put two and two together, which resulted in heavy cursing.

You idiot! Why didn’t you tell me you were hot?!” That was a stupid question. Of course he was hot. It was a million degrees outside and the man was wearing dress clothes. For fucks sake, he should have been surprised they didn’t both pass out from the heat. Dimitri didn’t know what to do in the moment though. If he was overheated, what was he supposed to do?

The first answer was water, but he didn’t have any on him. He could get from some inside, but that would mean leaving him, and Dimitri wasn’t about to do that. He thought harder, and came to the conclusion that the next best thing was for him to strip the other man.

He knew Luca would beat his ass later for it, but in the moment he hardly cared. He swiftly unbuttoned his suit jacket, before moving on to unbuttoning his white shirt underneath it. He struggled to lift the other’s body up off the ground enough in order to pull the article off of him. He tossed them aside, before moving back up to Luca’s face to see how he was.

Dimitri wondered if he should try and shake him awake, or remove his pants, or something. How in all of his years alive had he never had to deal with a situation like this before? He looked back towards the building in hopes that someone would come out. He wish he was strong enough to carry his boyfriend. That’s what he really needed. He was about to curse his pride and ask Sadik for help, since he knew that man would be able to carry Luca, when he suddenly heard a soft groan from the man beneath him.

He opened his eyes, though barely, since the sun was shining right in them, catching a glimpse of Dimitri. Though he mostly saw shadows, the Luxembourger swore for a moment, he saw tears streaming down his boyfriend’s face…

“What happened?” He asked, starting to sit up. Dimitri immediately moved to help him.

“You fainted. You scared the shit out of me!” Dimitri yelled. Luca frowned, clearly not happy with being yelled at right after waking up from passing out.

“Relax. Let’s just get me inside, yeah?” He offered, trying to smile, even though he still wasn’t feeling good. Dimitri nodded, moving to let Luca stand up. He walked over to his discarded shirt and jacket, holding them tightly to himself. The blond stood on wobbly legs, trying to keep from falling over. Dimitri moved to help him, but was waved off with a smile.

“I’m fine, babe. You worry too much.” He said, his eyes sparkling. Dimitri stared back with confusion, before rolling his eyes.

“You literally fell in my arms! You are clearly not fine!” He argued as they walked back towards the building, both bickering back and forth until they made it inside. Once the cold air hit Luca’s chest as they walked in, he flushed brightly.

“You took my clothes off?!”

“I didn’t know what else to do!” Dimitri argued back, but the response he got was the white dress shirt being ripped away from him by a blushing Luca, who was quick to cover himself. “You’re not even going to thank me?” He asked, feeling a bit stubbed that Luca was being so casual about all this.

“You took my shirt off, that’s nothing to thank for.” Luca pouted, before sighing. He supposed he should have thanked him first. He had merely been flustered. But why was Dimitri demanding thanks? He should have done it out of love for his caring boyfriend!

Both of them were annoyed now, stubbornly refusing to look at each other, before the quiet began to get to them. They were both being silly. Dimitri’s annoyance simply lied in his fear that Luca could have been really hurt and he wouldn’t have saved him, and Luca’s annoyance lied in the fact that Dimitri’s stubborness is what got them here in the first place. Luca sighed, before turning to look at Dimitri’s back.

“I’m sorry.” He said, walking over and hugging his back, resting his chin in the man’s black hair. Dimitri didn’t move his feet, but placed his hands overtop his boyfriend’s.

“As you should be.” Dimitri said, before leaning back into the other. “But I’m sorry too.”

Luca smiled. Clearly that would be the best he would get. He placed a kiss into the other man’s hair, breathing in the smell of shampoo.

“If I remember correctly, you said we could leave, yes? We should go.” Luca said, smiling slightly. Dimitri finally turned around to face the other, but the embrace they shared was quickly put back in place.

“Yeah? Why?” He asked, despite wanting to get the hell out of there.

“Because, I think my hero deserves something a bit more than just a thank you.” Luca said, his eyes hinting to Dimitri what he was getting at. The man blushed lightly, looked around to make sure no one was around to hear what the other had said, before his lips curled into a seductive smile.

“Is that a promise?” He asked. Luca lifted Dimitri’s chin up with one hand.

“Only if you can handle the heat.”

[robultrash]

nedden 34 please?

Here you go! It’s a continuation of my last NedDen request because the two kind of fit perfectly well!

The drive back to Jan’s place was one of confused excitement for the Dane. Much like he felt earlier at the prospect of spotting a smile on the other’s face, he was bother allured by the idea of finding out of he had made the other smile, while also a bit anxious about where this had gotten. Not that he was turning this away. Oh no. No. Definitely NOT that. He was more down than the south, but it was a bit of a spur of the moment kind of deal. Not Jan’s style. But maybe having been caught off guard was giving him this adrenalin. Mathias really didn’t know. But he wasn’t going to complain. Certainly not.

Despite Jan having stated they were heading back to his place, that was a bit unreasonable. The meeting had been held in Italy, and it wasn’t like Jan was going to drive the fifteen hours it would take to get to his home, and even if that WAS the plan, Mathias would have to decline on account that he was just leaving his car at this building. He would probably end up with a ticket, if his car wasn’t towed. This really wasn’t the brightest of ideas for him, but Jan was just so alluring, how could one resist his syrupy draw? Impossible.

So he knew they would be going to a motel, or an inn (Mathias didn’t know the difference). The statement had probably been for dramatic affect. Another quality that Jan tended not to have.

They drove for about twenty minutes until Jan pulled into the first overnight place he spotted. Hopefully they would had a place open, and for cheap. Because while he was sort of in anticipation for what was to come, he wasn’t willing to spend so much out of pocket for it. He could he sleep with Mathias at any time. He didn’t have to break the bank for it.

Checking in was swift. They split the bill, and was given their room key. Jan had a change of clothes in his car, most nations tended to keep overnight clothes with them for emergencies. Mathias didn’t have anything with him at the moment, but he could just wear his old clothes to his car, and change at the airport when he would leave the next day.

Once in, Mathias walked over to the bed. He wasn’t going to feign ignorance and pretend he didn’t know why they were there. He didn’t know how fast the other wanted to take it, or if he was going to get his answer and then move on to their next activity, but when he turned around to face the other, he saw that he was already in the process of taking off his shirt.

“Oh wow, we aren’t, like, going to settle in at all, huh?” He asked with a playful tone that hid away his shock and, albeit, skepticism. Jan was getting into this way too quickly.

There was a catch.

Jan sat on the bed. He absentmindedly tossed his shirt to the side. Mathias watched on with a more concerned than excited gaze at this point.

Then returned that smirk.

“Make me smile.”

Never before had this task ever been a requirement. While it wasn’t uncommon for Jan to smile, or smirk, or just wear a pleasant look about him while flirting around with Mathias, he never really had to force it out of him. And god knows the Dutch man could be stubborn. But, as stubborn as he was, Mathias was equally persistent, as well as determined to make the other grin from ear to fucking ear.

“Fuck yeah I’ll make you smile.” Mathias said. He was quick in his actions, moving across the bed, climbing over the other’s body, making motions to straddle his lap and tear into the other’s flesh with his lips. But a rough hand was touched against the Dan’s dry lips, not even haven taking the time to properly prepare for kissing.

“Not like that.”

“Well how the hell am I supposed to do it?” Mathias asked, sitting up on his knees and placing his hands on his hips, looking at Jan expectantly. But the other shrugged, continuing to wear a nonchalant air about him.

“Figure it out.”

The next ten minutes for the Dane was excruciating. He went through every joke he could remember, roasted enough countries to start a world war, even made idiotic faces that, at times, he had to stop and laugh at himself because he was so damn good, but Jan remained stoic. Their eyes hardly ever looked away from each other, even as Mathias grew more and more frustrated at each failure. It felt like torture, and agony was all he was rewarded with. He was growing impatient, even a bit annoyed with the other, as he began to lose hope.

“You’re a bastard.” Mathias said, giving in. He laid his forehead against the other’s bare shoulder, signaling defeat. He had nothing more to give, and what was worst, Jan’s frown was rubbing off on him. He didn’t even feel happy. A success would feel bitter sweet at this point. And while he knew that Jan was simply making this task impossible for the enjoyment of himself, it was wearing the normally cheerful man out, and he was exhausted beyond belief.

Which of course, defeat was only endearing to a man of such cold intentions. Though, Jan had to admit, he really hated how dejected the other looked. As if he had truly offended or hurt him. Jan started to feel a bit bad. In all honesty this was meant to be foreplay. He would get Mathias pissed and hard, and then they could get onto some aggressive love making, but this was all a bit too sad, and he was beginning to wonder if all of this had been worth it.

So, he gave into his sensitive side, just this once, to try and cheer the other man up. Partly because he felt guilty for causing this, and partly because he honestly hated the sight of Mathias so down.

“Stop being down.” It wasn’t a command. It wasn’t a call for action, he was requesting it. He wanted Mathias to go back to himself, and the Dutch man knew what he had to do in order to get it to that.

He lightly threaded one of his tough hands through the back of Mathias’s hair. He could feel the resistance of of hair gel, and combing his fingers through it brought out it’s scent. It was a familiar scent on the man, second only to his cologne. Mathias moved his head off of Jan’s shoulder to look at him, his eyes sad and his mouth a bit pouty, almost in a comical sense, if only Jan wasn’t sure that it came from a genuine hopelessness.

Swallowing his pride, the stoic, hardcore man, cracked a smile. It wasn’t forced, he had a good reason to smile, he had to make his Dane happy again. His pinks lips curved at the corners, his cheeks rising up a bit. He was red in the face, somewhat from the proximity of the other’s body heat, but mostly from his own embarrassment. The smile stayed on his face though, even as the hand in Mathias’s hair traced down to the man’s cheeks. Jan almost looked pleasant. If he looked like this all the time, perhaps people wouldn’t be so apprehensive to approach him.

“Aw, ya look so sweet.” Mathias mused, tilting his head to emphasize his point. His teasing wouldn’t break the other’s stare though. The moment was tender and sweet, something that wasn’t always easy to come by for two strong, independent men. So it surprised neither of them when Mathias leaned in, connecting their two grinning faces.

[robultrash]

Wanting

Rika buys Saeran his first toy, but he doesn’t fee like he deserves it. 

It was only a glance. A lapse of judgement, a momentary mistake. Nothing was supposed to come from a fraction of an instant.

“You want a stuffed animal?”

Saeran flushed heavily, and focused his eyes on the ground. He and Rika were walking down an empty sidewalk, passing by stores and shops, not really looking to buy but Rika insisted that a walk would refresh any mind, especially ones that followed little tantrums.

Saeran hated being such a bad boy, but sometimes he couldn’t help it. Sometimes his brain took over, and he had no control.

Still, he hadn’t meant to peek at the toys that stood proud behind the glass of the toy store in town. It was small, but the toys were of well quality. Not that Saeran knew that. All he knew was that there had been a bear with a silly pink coat. He hadn’t even thought to want it, he merely couldn’t help but be drawn.

“No, Ma’am. Mommy said I don’t get toys.” Saeran said, justified in his words, though he knew Rika would argue. She always argued against Mommy’s words. Saeran hadn’t seen Mommy in a long time, but her rules haunted his mind, and he knew better than to disobey. He could be a good boy, even if sometimes he cried.

Rika loosened her grip on Saeran’s hand a bit. They had been walking hand in hand, at her request. He wouldn’t object though, he liked holding hands. Saeyoung used to hold his hand sometimes, it was a great comfort.

So to loosen her grip must have meant anger, and when Saeran looked up at Rika, he feared she was upset with his answers. Mommy had rules, but Rika had rules too, and one of Rika’s rules was not to talk about Mommy.

“I-I’m sorry!” Saeran started. He felt a panic attack coming on. He didn’t call them panic attacks, he thought they were asthma attacks. When he would have them at home, he would tell Saeyoung he couldn’t breath, and that his chest hurt. Saeyoung diagnosed him as asthmatic, and Saeran was more than happy to agree.

He was about to tell Rika about his asthma attack, but was stopped when, upon looking up at her, she was smiling gently, and before he knew it, kneeling down to his level.

“I know you’re sorry, you can’t stop what you say sometimes.” She stated, gently holding Saeran’s chin. His lips grew wobbly. He hated Rika’s disappointment more than anything. He would have rathered bit his tongue until it bled if it had kept her happy.

Rika ran her thin fingers through Saeran’s hair. That always calmed him down. His breathing began to grow even, and though he wasn’t feel as bad, he still begin to weep, the overall feeling of comfort to this level still so foreign and unfelt, it was sometimes hard to control himself.

“Shh, it’s okay.” She lifted Saeran up. He didn’t like being held, especially when crying. Sometimes V held him when he would have tantrums and fits to keep him from hurting himself. Saeran hated it. He would rather hit himself than to accidently hit V. The process was effective, even if Saeran didn’t know how to admit it. But right then, he didn’t mind too much. He pressed his face into the crook of Rika’s neck, trying to stop the tear flow, and hoping she wouldn’t take him straight home as punishment. He wanted to stay on their walk longer.

Rika bounced the boy lightly, repeating a montage of positivity that only made Saeran more emotional. Rika was understanding though. People stared at the two. Saeran was older than his behavior let on, but sometimes that was hardly noticeable because of how small he was anyways. He was always thin and weak, so more often than not he could get away with it. But it could be especially evident when with Rika, her own frame being thin and frail as well. Neither of the two seemed to care or notice. Though Rika looked weak, she was strong, which enabled her to be able to carefully carry Saeran back the way they came. Saeran’s legs wrapped around her body, and he began to grow quiet. He had noticed that she was taking him back the way they came, and he suspected punishment. And he knew, if you got quiet, even if it was hard, punishment was easier.

Only, Rika wasn’t taking him back home. She stopped suddenly, and the ring of a bell made Saeran jump slightly as she opened the door to a store. He didn’t move. His heart was practically in his throat with fear and anticipation. He didn’t want to look up, afraid that his hopes might be smashed by the results.

Rika still continued to carry him, even managing to pull out her phone from her purse. She tried to move Saeran onto her hip, but he was simply too big, and he was too resistant, so she settled on keeping him to her front. She pressed the phone to her ear, and Saeran grew near silent to try and listen in, though Rika already expected that.

“Hello V, I wanted to let you know that me and Saeran are going to be a bit late coming back.” She said, a smile playing on her lips. The store owner noticed their presence and peered at them, wondering what their intentions were.

“Is everything okay?” V asked, sounding concerned on the other end, clearly not getting the hints Rika was laying out.

“Mhm, Saeran has been such a good boy, I wanted to reward him with something.” She explained. Hearing Rika say that to someone else, made the young child fill with pride as he reveled in the fact that Rika thought he was good, and not just telling him he was so he would do what she wants.

V chuckled, and Saeran huffed. Did V not really believe he had been good? But then again, it had been V that had found Saeran in the midst of sitting on the floor instead of the bed. Saeran insisted he prefered it, but it was another one of Rika’s rules.

Rika gently patted Saeran’s back before continuing on.

“So we’ll be home late.” She finally finished. Saeran was satisfied, but also a bit unnerved. He wasn’t sure what he was to expect. He had never gotten a reward before, and surely never something so luxurious as a stuffed animal. Saeran wasn’t very good at playing pretend, but stuffed animals didn’t have to be alive to be fun. They were still huggable and you could dress them up if you wanted, and they couldn’t complain about accidently pulling their hair or wearing clothes too tight. Saeran had never had a stuffed animal before, but he wanted one.

Not that he was willing to say so out loud.

“I love you too, V, I’ll see you when I get home.” Rika hung up the call, and readjusted Saeran so she could see his face. He was still a bit resistant, but eventually compromised by still laying his head on her shoulder, but not burying himself from complete sight.

“So, what do you want?” She asked. The boy remained quiet. Despite promises of things being okay, he could not be convinced so. He knew in his head that he could say he wanted the beautiful brown bear with the pink jacket. She wouldn’t turn him down, and still he hesitated. He seemed to know that deep down, he hadn’t really earned the reward, he was a bad kid sometimes.

“Saeran, you can have anything here, just point and I’ll follow.” Rika explained, her soft face smiling at the young child. He wanted to shake his head, say he wanted to leave. It was really something amazing that his wants were suddenly outweighing years of conditioning. That one toy was making Saeran question what he knew. He knew he was bad, and didn’t deserve it. But God, he wanted it.

“Teddy.” He whispered, barely above a whisper, Rika had to ask him to repeat what he had said.

“Teddy.” He said again, a bit louder, though still with little conviction. “In the window, I saw the Teddy.” That toy was what he saw first, and he couldn’t remove his mind since. He didn’t even want to think about other toys, because they were not that Teddy. He knew there were bigger and better toys, but he would never deserve them. But that Teddy he could have, couldn’t he?

“The bear?” Rika said to herself just to clarify that was what Saeran wanted. When she asked about the toy to the shop owner, the elder Korean man smiled as if he had expected such events to occur.

“That’s a special bear.” The man said. If he thought Saeran was too old to want stuffed animals, he didn’t let that on in the least as he told the boy the bear’s background story.

“That bear has a mission. Of course, they have never been able to complete it, since no one has bought them…”

Saeran was usually not entertained by people who weren’t Rika or V, especially not doctor’s. Strangers would try and talk to him, and he would react violently, demanding to be let go even when he is not being touched, yelling at them when they try and dig deeper than a surface level conversation. Rika and V were even homeschooling him because they knew he would not be able to handle such a setting. But as the storekeeper rambled about the Teddy Bear’s life, Saeran was silent. He hugged Rika tightly, but his eyes were fixated on the older man. Rika had never seen such concentration on the boy. She hadn’t realized how much this treat could mean to him.

“When you take this Teddy home, you have to keep them safe. Their purpose is important, you can’t let them get hurt.” He said, offering the toy to Saeran. The boy’s eyes was the only hint to his excitement, refusing to accept the toy from the man. Rika took it instead, and held it out to Saeran, who then happily took it.

The man chuckled slightly, straightening up. “Well, let’s get everything checked out then, it seems the boy’s joined the bear’s mission.”

Saeran didn’t hear Rika’s light laugh, or the exchange that took place between the two as she paid for the bear. He was too busy in his own thoughts, sifting through names for the Teddy, and where he was going to put them, and whether or not he would chose to play with it or not. He knew it wasn’t real, and he knew he was bad at pretend. But he could try, it wouldn’t hurt anyone.

“All ready, Saeran?” His name brought him from his thoughts, and the redhead looked at Rika, who was smiling at him with a newfound shine in her eyes that he hadn’t anticipated. He should be the one smiling madly. He was content to keep his face buried in the bear’s fur though, unable to let on about his joy. He gave a slight nod as his answers. Rika finally set the boy back down, her arms thankful for the release, before resting a hand on Saeran’s shoulder and leading him towards the door.

Saeran walked out, being mindful of how he held his toy. Certainly not under his arm, where he risked dropping them onto the ground. He could hug it to his chest, but hugging was not something he was good at, and he didn’t want the bear to know that, just yet. The decision was bringing great anxiety to him, and suddenly he stopped.

“You have to hold them.” Saeran said, looking up at Rika, offering her the bear. Rika, confused, tilted her head to express such.

“What do you mean? The bear is yours, I don’t want to hold them.” She explained. Saeran gently pet the bear’s head in thought, unsure where to go. If he held the bear, surely it would get ruined. Rika was the only one he could trust with such a precious thing.

But he didn’t know how to say that, so he earnestly continued to offer the bear to her.

“Saeran…” Rika was still at a loss for words. His inability to hold onto the toy surely spoke to his trust issues and fear, and she desperately wanted to assure him that it was okay. He should hold tight to the bear, and never let it go. Afterall, it would never hurt him.

Saeran looked back down at they toy, his eyes welling up with tears. “I’ll hurt them. I don’t want to.” He said. “You won’t, you take good care of me, so you would take could care of them.” He explained, suddenly overwhelmed with emotion once more. It took a great deal of self control not to throw the toy in his frustration, but he didn't want to hurt it. The bear had a mission, after all.

Rika bent back down, pushing red locks out of the child’s eyes, showing off golden orbs that were wet and broken. This bear’s purpose, of course, was to look after Saeran, to love him more than the boy could comprehend at the moment. Rika gently took the toy from his hands, but before he had a chance to look relieved, she gently combed the bear’s fur with her fingers.

“This bear isn’t with us to learn my story, they want to know about you.” She said. “But, perhaps for now, we can share them. And when you’re feeling sad or scared, they will chase away those bad thoughts, and when I’m feeling sad or scared, they can chase away my bad thoughts.” She said. Saeran looked back down at the toy’s light brown fur, thinking for a moment, before nodding.

“Can we share them with  V too?” He asked. Rika smiled.

“Of course, I’m sure V could use the extra love.” She said, before standing back up. In one hand, she held one of the bear’s paws. “Everyone needs to be loved. And I bet this bear has it in them.” She winked at Saeran, who cracked a small smile. He wiped away his tears, before holding onto the other paw. He didn’t want to admit that he didn’t want to share the bear’s love with everyone else, he only wanted it to be them, and Saeyoung, wherever he was. He thought, perhaps they needed all the love in the world.

And perhaps now, he would be able to find it.

[robultrash]

NedDen 40

I’ve only ever written Netherlands once, and it’s been forever since I’ve written Denmark, so sorry if I got the characterization wrong!

Prompt: “Have I entered an alternate universe or did you really just crack a smile for me?”

A trick of the ol’ eyes. That’s what it was. A glimmer of false that now haunted the Danish man, and would continue to haunt him if he were never to gain closure.

“You DID smile!”

The Dutch man was stoic, as if the other hadn’t said a word to him. They weren’t supposed to be speaking anyways. This was an important meeting. They were discussing…Ah. Fuck if he knew, truly, he just wanted to keep his attention away from the sparking blue eyes that were staring at him with both excitement and fear, as if he was unsure if he was supposed to be proud of himself or to question his own sanity.

And while Jan would never admit it, the former was the correct answer.

He had smiled.  BUT, it was for a perfectly legit reason. The normally complacent man was often better at hiding a genuine smile. Perhaps if you were to get him drunk, he may break free of his uninterested mug. Even if you were to catch him on a good day, you may only see the curves of his lips around his sister or in smug satisfaction at the failings of others. On any other simple, uneventful day, he was a stone of lackluster emotion.

But damn it, if Mathias’s under-the-breath comments weren’t the funniest shit ever.

No one could be sure which was the one that broke the camel’s back. Had it been the careful jest about Alfred as he stood up to address a point that, to his credit, was on point, but with a wildly unattainable approach to it. Or maybe it had been his tease about Sadik’s and Heracules aggressive game of footsie. Whatever it was, the smile had fallen on his face. He had even breathed out a quick exhale in amusement.

And he was going to take that to his grave.

A long whine escaped the Danish man when he realized he wasn’t going to get a confirmation on whether or not what he had seen was some sort of sick hallucination, a dire attempt to catch the man he fancied laughing at something he had said. What an honor that would be!

However, nothing more could be discussed, as he was quickly silenced by both a call out from Ludwig, and a eyeful stare from all of the other Nordics, except Tino, who was gracefully not paying attention to the meeting (as many weren’t) and instead daydreaming.

Once the meeting was adjourned, the two man stood to exit the room. Despite tradition for all the Nordics to meet together afterward and hang out (it wasn’t often they all got to be together like this, and it was usually a good way to exchange notes to those who hadn’t bothered to take any), Mathias declined the invitation and decided to leave with Jan. The Dutch man didn’t mind. They were together, after all. Dating wasn’t the word for it, and simply sleeping with each other wasn’t it either. Together was the word they decided on.

Once many of the other nations had dispersed, Mathias stepped up next to Jan, who was lighting a cigarette. They were standing next to his car, a blue clunker that he could afford to replace, but refused to because it still ran. Mathias jokingly asked for a smoke, but quickly laughed it off and declined the offer when Jan began to pull one out. Mathias didn’t hate smoking, but he was trying to slow down on it, usually saving it for only the most stressful of days, or whenever his lungs simply demanded it.

To Jan’s utter disappointment, as soon as the stick was back in it’s box, Mathias began excitedly asking about the smile.

“Really though? Did I make you smile? I’m not going to tell anyone!” The promise was worthless. Jan could care less if anyone else had known he’d smiled. It was the sight that was worth the most. And, if the Danish man was going to refuse to let it go, then Jan was going to make the other work for a confession out of him.

With the puppy dog nation bouncing in anticipation, Jan merely shrugged.

“Don’ remember.” He said, making the other groan in annoyance.

“That just makes me think you did and you aren’t gonna tell me.” A look of defeat washed over Mathias as Jan began to open the car door, dropping his burnt out cigarette to the ground and stepping on it. Not that the man had much sympathy, especially for the pouting man, he could play this to his favor.

A smirk. Wasn’t quite a smile, but a promise for something.

“Come back t’my place ‘n I’ll let ya know.” He said. Mathias perked up instantly, letting Jan know that his disappointment had all been an act. But it didn’t matter. In the end, they were both going to get what they wanted.

Mathias would get his answer, and Jan was going to get a very good reason to smile for the rest of the night.

[robultrash]

Melancholy Hill (Joseph and Robert)

Writing Challenge: Write a story based around a song, using the song length as the minimum number of words in the story

Song: Melancholy Hill by Gorillaz (3:45)

Word Count: 717

Notes: Did I ever tell y'all I was into Dream Daddy? I was for like a hot minute but fell out immediately because it was around this time I was losing motivation for fandom in general. However I really love the characters and while I don't think I did Robert or Joseph justice I still hope you enjoy. I don't know how the Dream Daddy fandom is doing on tumb so maybe this will be seen.

Joseph’s back rested up against the one of the oak trees that overlook the cul de sac. The whole place was like a bowl, with their little houses underneath, and some hills that roamed just a bit away. From his place he could see his own home, where his wife was probably drinking, and his kids playing around, doing God knows what at this point. His kids were still fans of dolls, right? He wasn’t sure if cutting doll’s heads of qualified, but it didn’t stop him from buying them.

He sighed, not wanting to think about his house anymore. His eyes wandered, as they so often did, and looked around for something more interesting to entice his imagination for a moment. They jumped from house to house, every time assuming each one was at home, being more productive than he was. Or, at least enjoying themselves more.

His eyes lingered a moment longer on one house in particular, but before he had a chance to notice, and to realize where his thoughts were headed, a rugged voice interrupted.

“It’s kind of weird that you sit up here and stare at everyone.”

Joseph was both surprised and concerned as to why Robert was suddenly invading his thinking time. Not that it was a true invasion, anyone could come up here, he supposed. But in his head it was reserved, and it was enough to make him a bit more than annoyed.

“I come up here to think. What are you doing?” The blonde asked, a bit more accusing then he meant to be. Though if Robert noticed, he didn’t say anything, instead deciding to make himself comfortable next to Joseph, uninvited.

“Came here to think.” Robert mocked, making Joseph roll his eyes. Despite normally being cheerful, the good natured man had came up here to be gloomy, away from the others. It was the only chance he got to be unhappy, so it was frustrating that Robert would have to come and ruin it. Though Joseph knew perfectly well he could be ‘real’ with Robert if he needed to.

“Well, just be quiet about it, please.” Joseph implored, before going back to his watching. Only now, it did seem a bit creepy, since he was thinking about it. If others saw him, they might be concerned. And if they saw him with Robert, they would be down right worried.

“I think I’m done thinking.” Joseph said, beginning to stand up, but was stopped halfway through with a light jerk on his hand. When he looked at Robert, he noticed that the man wasn’t being too aggressive with him, like he could have been, as he was known to be sometimes. It was more of a asking gesture, rather than a demand.

“You don’t need to leave just because I’m up here. We can be lonely at the same damn tree.” Robert explained. He stared directly at Joseph, which was amiditingly a bit off putting. He didn’t come here to be lonely, at least he didn’t think that’s what he was doing. He just wanted to get away sometimes. To be alone.

Maybe that was lonely.

“I thought you said it was weird?” Joseph implored, the hint of a teasing tone playing with his words, but he didn’t have much heart in being out and out playful. Again, he was up here to get away from all that for a moment. He was supposed to be bright and joyful all the time. But it wasn’t always manageable, especially when so many things seem wrong with your life.

“If I’m here, we’re two dads hanging out. If you’re by yourself, you’re a psycho planning a murder.” The brunette clearly explained, making Joseph chuckle slightly, something he hadn’t expected to do. He relaxed against the tree once more.

It was a nice silence that fell over them. One filled with birds above them making noise, and children’s gleeful cheers from below. They were the in between of ruckus, and it felt nice to be there.

Their hands danced around each other, both of knowing what they wanted, and both of them knowing they couldn’t have it. Together, they were two dads hanging out. And that’s all they ever would be.

Joseph always seemed to find himself in those in betweens.

[robultrash]

Defiance Against the Expected (To Stand Alone Chapter 6)

Did I just write an update? Yes I did. WARNING: CONTAINS DESCRIPTION OF TORTURE. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. 

The words didn’t register. He barely had a moment to process their weight or meaning before a sharp pain exploded from his back. His felt the skin slice and burn with agony as the whip tore open the skin. A loud scream filled the dark air, and Dimitrov buried his body into the splintered wood to try and escape the terrible ache.

A silence fell amongst the crowed. It hung over their heads like a knife, and to break it would be to defy God himself. The only sound that emanated was the sudden wailing of Dimitrov, who never before had ever experienced such tortures. The wound was opened and already bleeding, which only promised more pain to the Bulgarian, who was already fumbling with apologies and pleads before a second strike was thrown against his back.

The thing must have been barbed, Dimitrov would later think, as the second lashing buried right into the first one, slashing at already tender skin. Dimitrov screamed out again, his fists tight around the rope that bound him as he tried to escape, his body doing anything now to get away from the pain. His wants be damned, his needs be damned, he wanted far away from this torture.

“Please!” He begged the town. He looked at no one, yet his eyes met everyone’s as he scanned for weeping eyes across the faces he loved. But his head fell forward as another crack sounded, and his sobs became unintelligible.

Blood poured from his wound slow and thick. It soaked it the rags he had been given to wear, and soon the pale brown would be mistaken for a dark red. It was warm against his unharmed back. Surely, the whip would be sloshing his blood around by now, coating whatever may be in his range. Perhaps it was the priest, whose eyes went well with the color. Dimitrov was reminded of his nightmare for a moment, and he wondered if the monster had been Father Slavkov after all.

Another crack, another scream. No one spoke a word. A few onlookers had began to weep as well, though whether it was for Dimitrov, or for the gruesome sight was anyone’s guess, and it would not be revealed as all remained motionless at the torture of the one the once thought of as a hero. If Dimitrov were to scan the crowd for his fiance, she would not be found. Eliza hid away, unable to stand the sight. Despite her willingness to convince Dimitrov to accept this, she could not bear to see the man like this. She still loved him. But she loved her town equally as much.

As for Sadik, Dimitrov never would have found him. He was in his home, heavily drinking. The Bulgarian would never learn that the sound of his screams could be heard across the town, where Sadik found himself drunk and sobbing.

Another slash, another cry. Dimitrov thought that surely, this was close to being over, despite having only begun. His body was hot, sweat mixed with blood, stinging his open wounds. His body was already limp, unable to handle such torture. One more, words fell from his mouth. Most of them were sorry, some were stop. No one would listen though. Dimitrov knew, this is where he would die. Condemned and tortured, just as he should have died all those years ago. He had only avoided what was obviously meant to be his fate. He felt his knees give out, and he fell to the ground, causing the whip that had been coming down to strike against the wood right above his head, barely missing it.

“That will not count towards your total, Alexi.” Father Slavkov called out to him, but it went unnoticed and unanswered as Dimitrov’s chest rose and fell hard. His chest was burning with the near intensity of his back, and he was sure that he was then going to die of a heart attack before the pain could get to him. He thought it a kind mercy of fate.

His vision grew dark. He wondered if Eliza would pay for his burial, or if she would reject him for dying. She wouldn’t be a widow, at least. And Sadik technically wouldn’t be losing a son either. In fact, the more Dimitrov thought, the more he realized that perhaps, he wouldn’t be as missed as he might have thought. He obviously wasn’t as loved as he had thought, the love he had worked so hard to earn. Gone, all in a moment.

He could feel consciousness falling from him, both from pain and from his high fever, which was worse. He coughed and cried, limply hugging the pole. His eyes closed, and he could hear the world fading fast. He was ready to give up.

A crack filled the air, and was then met with horrifying gasps. Dimitrov did not understand.

No pain had fallen upon him.

His eyes opened weakly, but all he saw was the petrified faces of the town staring at something behind him, just before loud shrieking filled the air. Dimitrov tried to look over, but was unable to. What he did see was people scampering about. Screamed filled the air. Dimitrov tried to stand up, bit only managed to get up slightly before falling back forward, gasping at the effort. He could hear a commotion going on behind him. He didn’t know if he should fear this new development, but the rest from the beatings were enough to make him dizzy once more, though he fought to stay awake.

There was a violent cry from behind him, before a loud thud was heard Dimitrov weakly pulled against the ropes, trying to pull free. He looked up, hoping someone would stop and free him, but everyone simply ran in their panics, trying to find refuge.

However, one person did stand out to him. Flying past was Father Slavkov, his robes dragging behind him as he tried to run to safety, the church, where most people would try and hide. He whipped around to look back at the threat, before his eyes fell on Dimitrov. Father Slavkov’s eyes finally gave way to emotion, fear, before they mutated into something dark and sinister, that left Dimitrov cold despite his fever.

“This is what you want!” The priest cried, looking towards the being behind Dimitrov, his longer fingers pointing at him, condemning him to the beast. The fear remained in the Father’s eyes, but they were more clear than anything Dimitrov had witnessed over the course of these events. When he seemingly got what he wanted, Father Slavkov quickly spun around and hurried back towards the church. The middle of town had cleared out by now, Dimitrov only desperately trying to pull away. Despite the sudden quiet, he could feel he wasn’t alone. His whole body burned with pain and fear as footsteps walked towards him. Dimitrov gave up. He knew today would be the day he died. He laid his head against the wooden pole and cried. He deserved this, he reasoned. Perhaps he really had brought a curse upon this town.  

“Just get on with it this time.” Dimitrov yelled. The walking stopped, and  Dimitrov was afraid to look up. He hugged the pole tightly, before a calming sense washed over him, suddenly and unexpectedly.

Dimitrov knew he ought to fear this sudden change in feeling. He knew it probably meant something dangerous, and the urge to look up would mostly likely seal his fate. His eyes burned to see though. He lifted his head. Tears stilled stained his cheeks, and sweat made his hair stick to his face. As his green eyes opened, and looked at what stood above him, he was met with scarlet red eyes that glowed beneath a beautiful mask, with painted blue detail. He couldn’t see it, but he swore he saw a smile form on the being’s face.

“It’s okay.” It said. “You’ll be safe.” And as sleep overtook his body, Dimitrov was inclined to believe him.

[robultrash]

The Sun and Her Little Storm

This was written for #rikaweek here on Tumblr! I'm posting this early to get the news out, but also I already want to write more for the first prompt anyways! She's an amazing character, and I am happy to participate in this! This was written for day one's prompt Daily Life//Nature. You don't have to use both, but I kind of did in mine, but I want to write two for each prompt, one solely focused on Rika's relationship with others, and one solely RikaxMc stuff! I hope a lot of people participate, and let me know what you think! I love Rika and Saeran, so I hope I wrote them with justice.

When I look up at the sky, I think about the past. Not the good parts, not the bad parts, just the moments I was able to look at it. It was blue, I didn’t know it could be anything else for so long. I imagined freedom being the color of the sky.

“Saeran?”

I don’t want to look away from the clouds. I have been laying in the grass for a long time. Sometimes, after physical therapy, I refuse to move. My legs hurt more now than they ever did before. It’s easier to be tied in one spot.

No, wait-

“Saeran, you’ve been outside for hours.”

I don’t want to leave my mind, but suddenly sunshine fills my eyes. No, not sunshine…

“Rika!” I cheer, I always get excited seeing her. She sits down next to me and I sit up to meet her. I know she says I shouldn’t think of her as a hero, but I can’t help it. V and her saved me, they were saviors.

“The sky is very nice today, isn’t it?” She says, and my smile brightens. I don’t smile often. Even when they want me to, I can’t always do it. I have bad thoughts in my head, but I can make them go away when I think about the sky, or or the sun. I like the sun. Saeyoung once said it was made of fire, but I like to think it’s made of flowers instead.

“Isn’t it always nice?” I ask, though I already know the answer. I have seen rain, and I’ve seen fog. But sometimes I pretend they don’t exist. I like playing pretend sometimes. I was really good at it back then.

She chuckles slightly, and I feel accomplished. I want her to tell me the truth, despite already knowing it, and already hating it. But I want it anyways. When Rika tells me things, they have to be true.

“Sometimes it rains and blocks out the sun.” She’s quiet when she says it, and I wonder if I’ve made her sad, don’t be sad! I don’t want to see you sad. I’ll take your sadness away.

“But, then we get rainbows!” Saeyoung once told me what a rainbow looked like, but V is the one who showed me pictures of them, and explained that they are a mix of the rain and the sun. I don’t like rain, but the sun is warm and comforting.

“Ah, I forgot about rainbows.” Rika smiles again. Good. I like it when she smiles.

“The run and the sun, they make something good together, don’t they?” I look back at the sky. Rika used to say the sky was blue because God knew it was the most beautiful color. I don’t agree with that. Rika tells me I should believe in God, that God loves everyone, but how could there be anyone that loves me? And besides, I don’t think blue is the most beautiful. I prefer yellow.

“Saeran, do you like it here?” She asks me this a lot. I don’t like this question.

“I like you.” I say. She always likes that answer, it makes her smile. And I am not disappointed when I see her lips curl up.

“Do you like V?” Why so many questions today? I don’t like talking much, it hurts my throat. I used to make hand signs or knocks on the floor, but I soon realized that only Saeyoung knew what those meant. I start to miss him…

“I like him too, but I wish my brother was here.” I say this a lot, but no one ever tells me where he is. They say they saved him before they saved me, but where was he now? Why couldn’t he be with me?

“Hm…” Rika thinks a moment, a silence falling between us. I know better than to ask where Saeyoung. They say I’m too young, but that he’s thinks of me often. I don’t know why I’m too young to know. I sometimes feel like they think I’m too weak. Just like Mommy…

But then I think better. Because they are better than her. Rika wouldn’t hurt me, she wouldn’t tie me up, or lock me away. She’s warm and kind. She hugs me when I have nightmares or bad thoughts. Even V has rocked me to sleep a few times. It’s embarrassing to think about. I’m getting older. I’m, how old again? I’m nine, right? I forget sometimes. Saeyoung knew how old we were. Without him, I forget things about myself.

I’ve lost in my thoughts for a while, but Rika hasn’t said anything either. Maybe she wants to tell me something?!

“Saeran, imagine Saeyoung like fog.” She suggested. I tilt my head. I try to picture him as a body made of fog, but the image is scary, and I stop, looking back up to the sky.

“It comes with rain, and goes with the sun. If Saeyoung was here, I couldn’t spend all my time with you. If he was here, V couldn’t tuck you in at night, he would have to tuck him in.” She sounds so sincere, but I don’t like her words at all.

“I-I wouldn’t care! I would share you guys with him!” I would share anything with Saeyoung, if only he were here. I miss him so much. I hate that he’s gone.

Rika sighs. I’m not happy with her, but I keep that to myself. I don’t want to lose her love, but I wouldn’t mind sharing it if it meant Saeyoung could come back.

“Saeyoung is somewhere where he can heal, and you are with me, so you can heal.” I want us to heal together.

“Saeran, I know it’s hard for you to understand, but in the future you will see that I’m doing this for you. I want to help you find your own rainbows, and I can’t let fog get in the way.” I don’t quite understand what she’s saying. Sometimes adults compare things to other things to confuse me. I don’t like being confused. But I don’t argue, I know better. Rika would never get mad at me, but I’m still afraid to lose what we have.

I start to rock back and forth a bit. My head hurts. Tears sting my eyes. I’m not angry or upset, but sometimes my emotions don’t work properly. This time it works in my favor anyways. Rika stops talking about nature, and lifts me in her arms. She’s stronger than she looks.

“Don’t cry, it’s okay.” I believe her.

“This world doesn’t understand people like us. But that’s okay, we have each other. We’re a family.” I don’t know what she means by people like us, are we different from others? Is that why Saeyoung can’t be with us? I rest my head on her shoulder. She picks me up because she knows I’ll hurt myself otherwise. Maybe that’s what she means. People who hurt themselves. I’ve seen her do it too. She acts like me, sometimes, even if you couldn’t tell from the way she’s always smiling. I look as dark as I feel, but she feels that way too.

“Rain and Sun makes rainbows Saeran. We’ll make a rainbow together, you and me.” I want to ask if V is part of the family too. He doesn’t hurt himself like me and Rika do. I want V to be with us, but I don’t want him sad either, so I stay quiet. I don’t want him hurt.

She pets my hair, and I can feel and hear her humming something lightly. It calms me. I wonder if this is what paradise is.

“One day, we’ll make everyone feel like this.” She promises. I bury myself a bit deeper into her hold. I don’t want to share this with everyone, but if everyone means Saeyoung as well, maybe I could relent a little bit, one day.

“But, for right now, let’s just enjoy it together.” She seems to read my mind. I’m still crying, even though I feel very happy. I can’t help it sometimes. I hope she knows I’m happy. I hope Saeyoung knows I’m happy. I hope he knows that one day, we could make everyone this happy.

But for right now, this rainbow is mine.

[robultrash]

To Stand Alone: Condemned by Sinners

“What do you mean you left a mark behind?”

I was being lifted by my collar, by a being much stronger than I could ever be. He wears a metal mask, hiding everything except grey eyes that resemble fog. I squirm, but my mask falls. I see it hit the ground, my ginger hair falling down to my shoulders.

I’m not a ginger.

My eyes fixate once more on the person in front of me. He radiates a power I can’t begin to imagine. His grip tightens. I can feel myself sweat, I had fucked up, but what had I done? Left my mark behind?

“You worthless, pig loving scum.” The person...no, that isn’t right. That thing says, before throwing me to the ground. I land with a thud. My senses are heightened, I want to fight back, but something stops me, I don’t know what.

“It was one, it was insignificant!” I yell, but I don’t control my own tongue. The voice that falls from my mouth isn’t heavy like my own.

“It was a mistake, and our clan doesn’t make mistakes.” The shadow above me said. It took a step closer, and I tense up. I instinctively grab my chest, protecting something.

“You can’t take him away from me!” I yelled, who is him?

“No, but I sure as hell can make you pay for it.” The menacing voice says. I begin scramble to my feet. I sense my own strength. I know I could take him if I wanted, but I still do nothing. I am determined not to fight for myself. I will defend, but not attack.

I see other figures begin to surround me. I spin around, looking for an escape, but I don’t see any. I grip my shirt above my chest tighter, refusing to let it show. I am panic stricken now. The figures grow closer.

“You think we wouldn’t figure out?” I whip back around to the one with the metal mask. He moves his hand up to it, going to remove it. I know this to be bad, but I don’t know why. I shake my head, before closing my eyes.

“I couldn’t, the boy, he was different, he was-”

“HUMAN.” The thing boasts, and I look up, and I see his face. My eyes grow wide with shock. Fangs stand prominent against his bloodied, smirking face. He senses my fear.

“Kill him! He has betrayed our clan, and his race. Make sure he pays for it rightly.” The thing says, before turning away. There’s a beat, before a swarm of monsters descend on me.

Dimitrov shot up from where he was laying, gasping for breath, flailing his arms like a madman. He almosts screams, but feels the need for oxygen is a much more pressing matter. He was being attacked, he needed to get away.

“Dimitrov!” Eliza yells, jumping up from her seat beside the bed. Instinctively, she approaches the bed, cautious, seeing Dimitrov reacting to his nightmare.

“Dimitrov! You’re okay!” She yells. Dimitrov doesn’t respond at first, but he is no longer fighting against nothing. He was covering his head, as if blocking out something.

Eliza carefully reaches over, resting a soft hand on the other’s leg. That seems to pull Dimitrov from his dream. He flinches, but looks up, and is met with the sweet green eyes of his worried fiance.

“You have a fever Dimitrov, probably from the stress.” She carefully says, taking it slowly, unsure if he was aware of where he was, or that he was no longer in his dream. Dimitrov looked away. He didn’t feel sick, though he certainly didn’t remember going to bed. How had he gotten there anyways? And what was with that crazy dream??

A small knock came from the door. Both heads turned towards it. Dimitrov was momentarily surprised to see the town doctor come in, followed by Father Slavkov. The sight of the man’s grim brought back a wave of memories, and the Bulgarian began to lurch, leaning over the bed, but nothing coming out. Elizabeta jumped back, but the doctor hurried over.

“Don’t throw up at the sight of me, that isn’t very courteous.” The man said, which seemed to be an attempt at a joke. Dimitrov wasn’t sure. The whole town was supposed to hate him, so surely the doctor would too. Hell, especially the doctor. Dimitrov leaned back against the bed, his thoughts racing with confusion, anger, and fear. Adrenaline still coursed through his body. He probably could have ran a marathon right then and there, if he didn’t feel like he was going to throw up because of it.

“Medicine doesn’t work without the lord’s help, you know, Doctor Genov.” Father Slavkov stated flatly. The doctor nodded, but still went about feeling Dimitrov’s forehead anyways.

“Yes Father, I know. But I believe that God would allow the man a chance to be at full health before trial.” The man said, making Dimitrov look up in concern.

“Trial? I’m going on trial?” He asked. He heard Eliza stifle a noise, and wondered if it was meant to be of fear, or of anger. He wanted to believe the latter.

“You have already been tried, and you are going to be punished.” The priest explained, making the doctor frown.

“Father, I don’t know if that’s wise. His fever is very high, I’m surprised he’s awake at all.” He explained, before shaking his head. The doctor was younger than the priest, but older than Dimitrov. He had never had to see Genov before, so he didn’t know him very well. He simply recognized him by his thin brown hair, short stature, and the terrible misfortune of having to sport the churches robes, since the Doctor was being funded by the church.

Which is why Dimitrov was a bit confused. It almost seemed like Doctor Genov was trying to protect him.  

Father Slavkov was unmoved though, and approached the bed. Instinctively, Dimitrov tensed up. The monster descends up me.

Dimitrov meets the priest’s eyes. They are not grey, but they hold the same anger in them. Slavkov did not need a mask, the rest of his face gave away nothing.

“It doesn’t matter if he be sick, or healthy. He has to be punished. It is the only way to rid him of his evil.”

Dimitrov shakes his head, his heart beginning to race. He grabs it, just like in the dream, though he isn’t sure why.

“I haven’t done anything wrong!” He argues. “How could I have known about the attacks? If I had been here, I would have done anything to stop them!” He argued, and he would have. Dimitrov wasn’t known as a fighter, but had he been home, had the attacks happened while he was close, he would have faced them. He would have risked his life for this whole town, his home.

“Whether that is true or not, you have brought evil in this town. You were the only one alive, you were the one who brought their curse on this town.” He was calm. How could he be so calm? Slavkov was talking about Dimitrov’s life, his pains. And he thought he should be punished for it?

Dimitrov turned towards Elizabeta.” Eliza, you have to tell them.” He pleaded. He knew she was on the priest’s goodside. He started to get out of the bed, though his head hurt, but the doctor swiftly tried to sit him back down.

“Sir, you’re fever.” The doctor insisted, but Dimitrov pushed him away. He looked towards Elizabeta. She looked torn. How could she be torn?!

“I don’t want you hurt.” She said, quietly. “But I don’t want you to be expelled from the town.” She said, quickly grabbing his hand. Dimitrov allowed it, she provided him so much comfort, but he was growing more and more hurt.

“And, Dimitrov, the church brings this community a sense of security, and if the church says we need to cleanse you…” She trailed off. Dimitrov could feel his world slipping out from underneath him. He felt his head grow heavy again, but this was a different kind of pain. Before he had felt heavy, but this time his mind felt clearer than ever. With a look of disbelief, Dimitrov pulled his hand out of Elizabeta’s, and stared at her.

“You choose the town’s feelings..over me…” It wasn’t a question. Elizabeta was quick to defend herself.

“All those people expect something, Dimitrov!” She defended. Just like him, Eliza was always quick to defend herself. She thought in her heart it was the right thing to do. She probably really loved Dimitrov. But she couldn’t put her heart over the whole population of the town. If he could just take the punishment, then everything could go back to normal.

Dimitrov looked down, before looking back towards the priest and the doctor. Genov looked concerned, but too fearful to speak up. But Slavkov. Dimitrov wondered if he only imagined the slight smirk on his face, or if he was actually pleased to see the Bulgarian fall apart.

He sat back on the bed. No one was going to listen to him. They were all taking the town’s side, over his. He stared at his hands. Had he really cursed the town? Was God really punishing him? Hadn’t god punished him enough? Wasn’t it God who had stripped everything away from him? Why would God do this again?

“Does Sadik agree?” He asked to anyone who would tell him. The silence hung in the air, before Eliza spoke up.

“He...Wants you to stay too. If you don’t do what the church asks, you’ll be an outcast. No one will want you here…” She explained. Dimitrov almost didn’t care about that. Why would he want to stay in a town that hated him? But then he remembered all the good he did for them. He had been a hero to them. And somehow, everything was falling apart.

Dimitrov looked up again. He could run away. He could voluntarily leave the town, and just never look back. There had to be a town around here in need of a good merchant. Hell, probably one that would WANT his vampire fangs. But he loved this town. He loved it’s people. He looked at Elizabeta. He loved her. He loved Sadik. How could he leave them behind?

“Perhaps if he complies, God would be willing to lessen the pain he must receive to regain redemption?” The doctor suggested, but the word pain rang in Dimitrov’s ear like a loud drum. What exactly was he being condemned to do?

Slavkov nodded once, apparently having already considered this. “Yes, our God is one of mercy. Dimitrov, the town is looking forward towards the expelling of satan in you. They all hope that you will choose the godly way.” He explained, before standing straighter, taking away any remaining power Dimitrov might have had over himself.

“If you work with us, then mercy will be shown.” He said. A flash of a bloodied mouth crosses over the priest's face, but quickly disappears.

Dimitrov loved this town. He hated what they were doing to him, but he needed their love. He needed to be a part of something. He needed to be a fiance. He needed to be a son. He needed to be a neighbor. This town hated him, but that did not mean they wouldn’t love him again. Dimitrov nods.

“What do I have to do?”

---

The ropes tied against his wrists rubs his skin raw as he as drug along towards the city square. The man leading him is the man who had delivered Dimitrov’s black eye, so he shows no mercy as he pulls him again, even though Dimitrov still feels weak from his fever.

A crowd has gathered around, one similar to the ones that would crowd around his stand, aweing at whatever new item he had brought that day. Their eyes lit up with wonder and excitement.

When Dimitrov looks around, he sees nothing but anger.

He scans the crowd for Eliza. She stands with some of the other women. None of them speak to her. She must have been shunned by his actions as well, as if sin was contagious. A brief and heartless thought crosses over Dimitrov’s mind, that she is only encouraging this so that she can be well respected again, but he immediately drops it. He was already heartbroken enough as it is.

Next he looks for Sadik. He had been told he left the house sometime after he had carried Dimitrov to his bed, staying only long enough for him, Elizabeta, and the priest could talk. They had discussed what to do with him. They had agreed to this torture. He doesn’t find him in the crowd.

Dimitrov is suddenly jerked against a wooden pole in the middle of the square. He gasps for air, the wind nearly knocked out of him. He is tied against the pole, his bare stomach rubbing against the splintered wood. He had been stripped to nothing but cloths to humble him, but it was pure humiliation, and he knew it.

He doesn’t want this, but he needs more than anything to be accepted. He cannot be alone. He closes his eyes when he hears Father Slavkov shout, grabbing the crowd’s attention.

“Dimitrov Alexi has been found by god to be the reason this town has been cursed!” He yells out, making the crowd begin to yell at Dimitrov, insulting him, condemning him. He couldn’t believe that only hours ago, they had all been anticipating his arrival home. Had greeted him with open arms. And now, he was being called a demon.

“To redeem his soul, God has planned this as his cleanser.” The crowd cheers at something. Dimitrov can already feel himself shaking.

He doesn’t want to be alone. He would rather be amongst those who hate him than to be alone again.

“I’m sorry!” Dimitrov yells, but he doubts anyone hears him over the crowds cheers as someone approaches Dimitrov from behind. He hears the priest once more. He looks up. The cloud are a sinister grey, and a low rumble shakes the earth. He could feel the rain about to fall. He starts to believe there really is a God. He feels tears sting his eyes.

“In the name of God, Dimitrov Alexi will now receive thirty lashes, before being left to bleed the rest of the night.”

[robultrash]

To Stand Alone: Truthful Confessions of a Sinner

Eliza gently dabbed a wrung out cloth against her fiance’s head. He sat back in his own home, still dazed and confused. No one had explained anything to him still. And while Eliza had managed to convince the priest to allow him to leave to get medical attention, the numbness of why his neighbors would turn on him ate at his soul more than anything that man could have dished out.

When Eliza as done, Dimitov’s face was cleared of his blood. His nose has been snapped back into place, courtesy of Sadik, who had insisted it wouldn’t hurt too much, but the man was a lying bastard. His left eye was bruised, though it was clear that both would eventually turn black from the beating, as well as having a swollen cheek and knot on his head. His dark hair clung to his skin, worry perspiring and making him feel ill.

“I don’t understand…” The Bulgarian mumbled, turning to look up at Sadik, who had been hovering over them as Eliza tended his wounds. Both of them had remained quiet, much to DImitrov’s irritation. He had repeated that phrase several times now, and still no one bothered to answer him, as if their mouths had been sewn together in secrecy. But he had to know, what had he done to offend his home like this? So much as to fear and curse him?

Eliza sighed. She had sighed a few times now, and frankly, Dimitrov was growing tired of their sympathy. He wasn’t at fault for anything he had done. So he believed, anyways. Clearly the rest of the town did not agree with that though.

Finally, Sadik readjusted himself, leaning against a wall and crossing his arms. He too sighed, before deciding to uncross his arms and run a hand through his deep brown hair, as if couldn’t decide how to stand, proving that he was at unease of explaining what the hell had happened out there.

“Dimitrov, a lot has happened since you’ve been gone.” The man started, to which the younger man laughed, though clearly not from humor.

“Obviously, the whole town has turned against me. What? Has everyone contracted hysteria?” He asked, before finally pulling away from Elizabeta, who was holding his arm gently. He wasn’t asking for her to hold his hand through this, he wanted to know the truth.

Silence fell among them again, but Dimitrov was growing frustrated.

“Just fucking tell me, you finicky old man!” He commanded, slamming his hand on the chair he was sitting in. Dimitrov was usually calm and collected. He wasn’t one to have outbursts of rage. He tended to think before his actions, but now he wanted answers, and the fact that no one was telling him was only making him more anxious. What had happened since he was gone?!

Sadik normally would snap back at such language towards him, even coming from his adopted boy, who would usually get a quick smack in the head for talking to him in such a way. But Sadik knew that his anger was warranted, and God he wished he could just come outright and say it, but it was hard. It was hard knowing what DImitrov had went through, it was hard admitting what the whole town feared, a repeat of the past.

“God damn it Sadik, if you won’t tell him then I will.” Eliza said, her own patience wearing thin. She hated seeing Dimitrov like this, anxious and scared. Because despite his rage, despite his words, she could see it in him. Felt in the way he tensed up before pulling away. She knew her fiance was strong, but she also knew when he was weak, and right now, he seemed smaller than ever, even as his eyes screamed anger, and his fists turned white.

“The village was attacked.” She said, finally turning to DImitrov, whose expression turned from rage, to a distraught confusion, as if he wasn’t quite processing what he was hearing.

“By who? Serbs? Romanians? I would think this town far enough from the borders.” He said, before beginning to wonder if that was what they had meant, that his venturing towards such borders, is what had cursed the town. But had the town been raided by a foreign power, especially amidst such tension between the neighboring nations, he would have expected to be chased out of town even before stepping in it. He couldn’t imagine which outcome might have been worse.

But Eliza was shaking her head  before he could question further, and tenser Dimitrov grew, because as he thought more about the town’s reaction, the harder realization was falling on him, weighing a thousand pounds and falling at an unheard of speed.

“They saw those teeth, they reacted in fear. We know you couldn’t have known. But…” Sadik trailed off, as if even he wasn’t convinced this wasn’t Dimitrov’s fault, which struck the fear out of the man’s body, and replaced it with a defensive anger.

“But I didn’t even kill any vampires! I bought these from a thief in Nikopol!” He confessed, before pulling out the teeth from where he had stashed them in his pocket. Both Elizabeta and Sadik straightened up at the sight of them, encouraging Dimitrov to defend himself more. “And...And why would I even CONSIDER bringing them here? Everyone knows about me! They all know, why would they think-”

“Don’t play stupid kid, you know exactly why.” Sadik said, his brutal honestly not out of character for him, but completely uncalled for in the situation. DImitrov felt his face fall. As uncalled for as it was, he knew exactly what Sadik was saying. Everyone knew his story. He was the only one who survived a vampire attack. He was the only living one after the disgusting slaughter of his family and neighbors. The town lacked the complete details, but they knew he was the lone one.

Maybe he had cursed the town.

He gently touched his cheek, before suddenly standing up. “I need to fix this, I need to show them I didn’t do anything.” He said. Eliza rose beside him, gently grabbing his arm again.

“Father Slavkov says he is speaking with God, Dimitrov, the people will be waiting for his say, not yours.” She explained.

“Why his say? I’M the one who knows the truth, don’t they care?” He asked, before there was a knock on the door, making all heads turn towards it, unfortunately giving Dimitrov a swift headache, and causing him to sit back down. He held his head, his ache coming from both the movement, and the fact that the whole town that once looked up to him, could turn on him in an instant, all based on the words of a man Dimitrov knew did not like him.

Sadik approached the door, anticipating another angry neighbor, looking to see the man who cursed their home. When he finally opened it though, he was met with the stoic ace of the pastor, Slavkov. His grey black hair was similar in color to Dimitrov’s, but was cut a bit longer, and thicker. His robes barely scraped the ground as he stood. His holiness radiated. He struck fear in people just as much as God was supposed to. Sadik didn’t speak, instead waiting for him to make the first move.

“Dimitrov Alexi.” The man spoke, his voice heavy, as if he was speaking from the back of his throat. Dimitrov looked up with all the slowness of a heavy bolder sitting on his head, after all, it was how he felt.

“Sir, you don’t really believe I cursed my home, do you?” He asked, drained from anger and defense. He was tired. He wanted to be relieved of this burden. He wouldn’t admit it to himself, but the weight had been weighing on him the moment he decided to ignore his past and take claim of the vampire teeth. Bringing them with him, in a way, was meant to take back control of his life. He no longer had to be haunted by his past. He could move forward. That was why he was here, in this little city, full of his friends, surrounded by his loved ones. He wasn’t meant to be a survivor, he was meant to be hero. But all that now laid on the decision of a man who spoke to God. A man who was supposed to be a hero. And as little as Dimitrov would have cared for his opinion any other day, now more than ever, the man needed to hear that he was forgiven. By God or the town or whatever. He needed to be relieved.

The priest cleared his throat. Before taking a step forward.

“It is not my opinion that matters, but the Lord’s.” He started, and Dimitrov could feel himself shiver. If there was a God, surely had to show mercy to him.

“The Lord sees your heart, and you bear the markings of the devil, Dimitrov.” He said cooly, or maybe it was hot, because Dimitrov felt his skin burning. In fact, a lot of him felt hot. Did he have a fever? Was being this close to a saint making every sin in his body burn him from the insides? The corners of his vision was turning black. Maybe he was cursed.

“Whatever your intention had been, it does not matter now. Alexi, you are cursed. And I will see to it that you do not spite our home any further!”

Father Slavkov sounded so far away. Everything seemed so far away. His injuries must be catching up to him. Dimitrov could faintly her Elizabeta begging, pleading, asking if there could be some way to fix this. Dimitrov heard a yes, of course there is. But there was something dark in those words. Something that promised pain. But Dimitrov was too far gone to care. He was tired, and so, he gave in.

[robultrash]

To Stand Alone Chapter 3: High Claims and Long Falls

When Dimitrov pulled out of the hug, an awkward silence fell amongst the three. As much as they wanted to talk and catch up, and as curious as Dimitrov was about what was going on in town, they all knew that soon, the young man would be bombarded with curious buyers and onlookers alike, and they needed to get shop set up for that moment.

“Alright, well, I won’t hold you any further, get back to work, this stand holds my legacy, you know.” Sadik said with a wink, before bowing in Elizabeta’s direction, who mockingly curtseyed back, before straightening up and snickering. The man was all too familiar with her informalities.

“Okay, Pops. But make sure you come check out what I got before it sells, I’m pretty proud.” He explained, standing a bit taller at the mention of his treasure. He didn’t have too many, so he knew that he could sell them for a high price, and they would still be gone within a few hours. Especially if a neighboring town finds out. Gossip could travel so fast now, considering the installment of paved roads. Dimitrov could already hear in his mind Sadik lecturing about a time before ‘fancy dirt cheats’ where he would have to make his own terrain, and follow the sun and his gut. He truly was an old man.

The sound of children abruptly pulled him from his thoughts again, and when he regained his senses, he noticed a group of boys, pushing and shoving their way towards his mart.

“Heh, better make sure they don’t steal anything.” Sadik warned, before sauntering off, most likely towards the closest group of ladies. He often imagined himself much younger than what he was. Dimitrov didn’t care, he never could learned his lesson after many times being ignored and rejected.

“You boys look a bit too young to be carrying anything of value on you.” Dimitrov finally said when an array of brown, blue, and green eyes looked at him with curiosity and pride. They all laughed at the statement, though it was still very true. One of the taller boys peered over the stand, hoping to catch a glimpse.

“My Father wanted to know if you had anything of worth.” The eldest commented, before glancing up at Dimitrov. The kid seemed to be putting up some sort of front, as if he wasn’t as excited as the rest of the town was to see what their best traveler had brought to them. Dimitrov shrugged a moment.

“Oh, I have the usual, some spices from Asia, some Turkish silk...Some…”Dimitrov leaned close to the group of children, all of their eyes growing wide in anticipation and excitement. Though Dimitrov hadn’t announced his new item to the town, an air hung around it, as if they already knew his newfound ite was going to be amazing. Of course, Dimitrov was known for bringing back items of luxury and wonder. Things the town had never even seen, though common outside of their little world, as Dimitrov came to find. But what he had now though, it was truly a treasure. And he was so generous as to sell such an item. Sometimes, he couldn’t even question why the town thought so highly of him, his kindness was practically one of a kin.

“-thing you will have to wait for my announcement for.” He ended the sentence, making the children moan and groan, hating have been left on such a cliffhanger. Both Eliza and Dimitrov chuckled, before noticing that a crowed was beginning to form, the locals rising from sleep to begin their day, to check out the market, or to simply stroll around.

“Which may be right now.” Elizabeta said, walking beside Dimitrov and gently pecking him on the cheek, knowing she would have to leave from behind the stand. Though both she and Dimitrov knew that her being back with him wouldn’t deter any potential buyers too much, some people just couldn’t stand the idea of a woman even helping running shop. Not that Dimitrov wanted her working had anyways. He was marrying her to be a provider. It was one of the perks of being so successful.

“Dimitrov! Welcome home!” A customer called out.

“Ah, Alexi is back.” Another voice sang out.

“What amazing timing,” Another said, in almost sarcasm. Dimitrov wondered what that was supposed to mean, but didn’t have time or the means to question it. The crowd was becoming denser, and he had a performance to put on.

“I haven’t even set up shop yet, everyone!” Dimitrov called out as Elizabeta walked away with a smile on her face, one that wished him all the luck in the world. He smiled back, before looking back out.

“But, since you’re all here, I guess I can’t disappoint.” He said, his lips forming a smirk at his own cockiness. Truly, what he had in his bag, though small in numbers, could be something that would change his career. But still he shares with his humble village, because they were his family. They looked up to him, they all wore stars in their eyes. The men, hoping to buy something of value and worth, to make themselves feel better. The women, flustered and amazed to have such a hero amongst them. Children, just excited to stare at something from far away from everything they know. Dimitrov even caught sight of the priest, adorning his robes. Even he was curious as to what the man may bring. Dimitrov surely could not dissapoint.

First, he pulled out spices, that of course got the women more excited than the men, though they would still buy the grains and herbs for the wives, and they would be pleased. He set them up as usual, before then beginning to pull out the silks and clothes he had, some looking of great value, though not hardly costing much to make.

The Bulgarian pulled out a few more things, but the villagers had seen such items time and time again. They were normal now, for as normal as such foreign things could be. Dimitrov was the only traveler who dared to venture so far. But that is not what their eyes were here for. They wanted the new, the unique, and Dimitrov had that.

Dimitrov stood taller, feeling confident that this next item would be his greatest find yet. It may not be all that useful, it wasn’t for cooking or for decoration. It was just something to own. Something to have. It’s value lied in its rarity. One would have to ask, how could someone get such a dangerous item? But Dimitrov had it, and he was not about to reveal his secrets.

The items were small enough to fit in his hand. He was careful not to hold too tightly though, before he faced the crowd.

“Friends, are you ready?” He asked, before a collective agreement rang out.  Dimitrov scanned the gathering. He could see Sadik, paying close attention. Confused curiosity wore on his face, and Dimitrov couldn’t wait to make the old man proud. He then spotted Elizabeta, who grinned in anticipation. Then his eyes landed on the priest. Dimitrov was not fond of the man, they seemed to hold differentiating ideas about the world, not that he would willingly voice they in such a religious town, but somehow the man seemed to know, Dimitrov was an oddity amongst them, though he tried so hard to keep that down. But perhaps now, he could see he only wanted good things for his home. He could have went to a richer town. Hell, a KING would be so lucky as to have these. Perhaps now the priest could see, he stood amongst them.

When Dimitrov smiled and opened his hands, it was the people in front, excluding the boys who had stood in the front, who gasped in horror at first, but Dimitrov hardly noticed, mistaking it as bewilderment.

“Teeth!” He cried out. “The teeth of not one, but three vampires! Their fangs ripped away from their bodies.” He explained, showing off the prized fangs. Though he hadn’t been the one to take out the teeth, it was still an amazing feat to find such things, to take from the very monsters that had cursed the world. The crowd began to back away. DImitrov grew confused.

“Such items could only be found by-” He started, but was soon cut off by the crowd’s collective mumbling.

“Oh God, why would he bring these here?!” He heard a woman’s voice. He didn’t understand.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, parents pulling their children away from the stand. Fangs were highly sought after, especially consider it meant that monsters had been slain. Of course, it hadn’t been Dimitrov who had killed the beasts, but just having these meant great bravery, didn’t it?

A couple of men began to approach the stand, anger wearing on their faces like a mask. Dimitrov took a step backwards, knowing the stand wasn’t protection of any sorts.

“You damned idiot!” One yelled as the crowd began to disperse, many people heading into their homes, some heading towards the church.

Dimitrov stood in dazed confusion. What was going on!?

One of the men jumped over the stand, and grabbed Dimitrov by the collar.  He recognized who the man was. He was someone who would always come by and buy silk, and would stay a few minutes so Dimitrov could catch up on his life. The man had a wife, and three sons. He was Dimitrov’s friend.

So why was he punching him in the face?

Dimitrov fell to the ground when he was let go. The man had gotten several blows in before someone had stopped him. Dimitrov looked up, his nose bloody and probably broken, seeing it was Sadik.

“Get off him.” He huffed. The man pulled back to deliver a blow to Sadik as well, but stopped when he saw the priest approaching, along with Elizabeta.

Dimitrov was still clutching the Vampire’s teeth, confusion and betrayal lying heavy on his heart. The man angrily walked away, as well as the fellows who had stalked on Dimitrov with him. The Bulgarian looked up at Sadik with hurt eyes, before looking back down at the fangs.

“Father, he couldn’t have known.” Elizabeta pleaded. Dimitrov glanced up at them. The man stared down at him with silent judgement.

“I don’t understand.” Dimitrov said, before tasting blood in his mouth. He had bit his tongue during the fight. His face felt numb, much like his mind. The Father didn’t seem to care for the state of his face.

“I had wondered why such things had begun happening in this town…”The man started, before looking towards Elizabeta.

“Now I believe God has given me his answer.” He said, before looking down at Dimitrov.

“Dimitrov Alexi, your actions is what has cursed this town.”

[robultrash]

To Stand Alone Chapter 2: The Memory of the Untouched and Forgotten

A look back to the moment that Sadik and Dimitrov met, and why they are so close now.

Author Note: Kind of graphic, but not enough to warrant a maturity content label. This chapter is a flashback, as well as a deeper look into Sadik and Dimitrov's relationship.

Two days. Two days Dimitrov sat in that closet, blood smeared on his face. He wondered which parent it belonged to. Whose last attempt at life covered his pale and soden cheeks. He knew no one could be alive, and he only hoped to die to. He had cried all his tears, now too dehydrated, and could not bring himself to move. He smelled of urine and sweat, and surely, he told himself, surely death would come soon.

That is what he thought, until, Sadik Adnan found him.

The Turkish man had rode into Bulgaria by mistake, somehow having been separated from his crew one drunken night. The clan had left from Turkey after reports of whole towns being killed off over night. The word had seemed to travel fast once people began learning about them. If it hadn’t been for merchants of thieves passing through these areas of death, no one would have ever known what had happened. No survivors had ever been found. Which is why, many merchants had decided to take advantage of such misfortunes, and had began robbing the towns, stealing from the dead, justifying it to themselves because surely no heir could be alive to claim them, and it would be a waste to let money and furniture and art to just rot with their dead owners.

Sadik had started out as such merchants, but as time went on, he grew disgusted by the act. It was clear that these people were not dying from plagues. They were being killed, and his people didn’t have the decency to honor these murders. They merely did what best benefited them. And Sadik had made that point clear.

Maybe he hadn’t been separated then. Maybe he had been abandoned.

Whatever the case, it landed the Turkish man in an untouched town. Unlooted and seemingly, unfound by anyone. Perhaps no one even knew that whatever little village he was in had fallen victim to the attacks. The thought made Sadik’s heart hurt, and though he knew it was a useless task, he set out to look for survivors. If luck was with him, maybe this attack had only happened recently, and there would be someone he could save. He wasn’t a medic, but perhaps he could get one, in a neighboring town.

But as he entered random homes, it became increasingly clear that there was no one to save. Blood smeared walls and floors. Bodies were beyond recognizable. Twice, Sadik vomited on his search. Once from the site of a poor woman, whose neck had been so vandalized, her head hung on only by a few fibers, and once more, when the stench of death became so bad, he could hardly breath.

He was about to leave. There was nothing but sadness in what remained of these empty homes. Soon, raiders would find the place, and loot from these poor people. He wished he could bury them all, they deserved it, but there was no way one man could do such a thing, and he didn’t think he could literally carry the weight of all of the victims in the town. He did whisper a small prayer, though he could have guessed that many of these people were not muslim. But whatever God existed, whether it was Yahweh, or Allah, he had to let these people into his Glory, Sadik thought. After enduring such sufferings as this. There couldn’t exist a God so merciless.

Sadik remounted his horse, intending to leave behind this place for good, he had no plans to tell anyone of what he saw here, in hopes to preserve this place for just a bit longer, allowing it to remain untouched by more evil, but something compelled him to search on. He still had no expectations of finding a living person, but he felt he had to bear the burden of each of their deaths. He had been the one to find them, after all.

When he made it to the next small house that on the outside could seem normal, the smell immediately surprised him. He had, as much as one human could, grown used to the stench of decay, but in this home, overpowering such decay was urine. A wave of emotions Sadik could not decipher in the moment washed over him, though one was definitely fear. Was someone alive?

“Някой тук?” He called out in Bulgarian, having learned the language,  before peering down at the two bodies that layed on the floor. One, a woman with dark brown hair whose green eyes were still open, she looked like she had died in the middle of a scream, mouth parted and all. Her throat was slashed, just like the others.  Next to her, a man with ebony hair. He almost seemed to be reaching out to her. They must have been married. They must have seen each other die. And they seemed so young too...It was a shame.

There had came no response, unsurprisingly. Sadik suspected that if he searched further in the house, he would see the remains of a dead child, probably young. He hadn’t seen any children, thankfully, never really venturing too far into the homes, and he wasn’t about to start now.

He gave one last final attempt to call out though, just because the smell was a shock to him. But most likely, the family’s son or daughter had probably soiled themselves before being killed.

“Някой тук?” He almost hoped no one would answer. He wasn’t sure he could handle seeing anyone alive in this mess. It would be cruel, to curse someone to life after so much death.

Which is why, when he heard a small boy’s voice respond with ‘тате’ Sadik felt his heart nearly break.

He rushed into the other room, searching for the source of the voice. Maybe he had imagined it, his brain desperate for a shining light in this pit of despair. The room he entered seemed to be that of a child’s. The bed was small, and a few toys were scattered about the room. Sadik finally noticed what seemed to be like a small closet. He approached it carefully, not wanting to scare the kid.

“Are you okay in there?” Sadik asked, continuing to speak to the boy in his native language, doubting he knew how to speak anything else. There was no response at first. Sadik realized that the boy probably had thought he was his father because he had spoken in Bulgarian though. He wished he hadn’t done that to the kid, hadn’t gotten his hopes up for a fleeting second, only to tear them back down.

A moment more passed, before Sadik decided to open the door. When he did, he was overwhelmed by the smell of living, and was momentarily thrown back. When he regained himself once more, he was able to get a good look at the boy.

Five. He couldn’t be older than that. And he had blood smeared on his face, had his attacked done that? He looked so stiff, he probably hadn’t moved since the attack. Once more, Sadik’s heart nearly broke, and he reached in towards the traumatized boy.

He didn’t resist, in fact, he was suddenly clinging to Sadik. The kid needed food, and water. And most of all, he needed away from all of this. Sadik gently soothed the boy, holding him close, knowing well that he had probably cried himself out a long time ago, and could merely whimper at the sight of another living being.

Sadik knew then, he would be staying in Bulgaria. This boy had nothing anymore, except the memory of his parents dying.

“Let’s get you taken care of.” Sadik whispered, though the child was unresponsive to anything. Sadik had so many questions. Who had attacked this town? Why was he spared? How long had he been here? So many things he didn’t know. But, as he carried the small thing back to horse, shielding his view of his parents as they passed them, he realized that he knew one thing.

This child was now his responsibility, and he owed this boy the world after all he had been through.

[robultrash]

To Stand Alone Chapter 1: Welcomed Home

Dimitrov Alexi was one of the finest merchants in town. Days would go by without word from him, but fear never settled in the little town, where everyone knew all, because he would always return, with better items than he left with, and a new story to tell. He stopped his chestnut horse upon entering said town, observing the scene. It never changed, no matter how long he roamed, or whatever exciting new ideas he brought back. His home was as stagnant as a swamp, not that he minded too much. After all the places he would roam, it was nice to come back to a place where he could call out, and someone who loved him would always come rushing forward, often with praise, and care awaiting him. He smiled, before looking back at the sack hanging from his mare’s side. He had traveled to a well known market just outside of the Bulgarian Empire. Though the area was safe for both Serbians and Bulgarians to go through, especially due to a rising need for consumers due to the war, Dimitrov would often stretch the truth, just a tad, since he was one of the only remaining merchants that would venture further out than a city or two, allowing him to share tales of having to fight away Serbians, or encountering some devil creature. Fear was rare in the man’s blood. He didn’t know terror like others around him did. While every citizen in his home was a God fearing, loving community, his fears lied on the opposite spectrum, such as, what if there is no God to fear? How easily could his family not of blood turn on him? But he didn’t linger on thoughts like that long. There was always a new city to go to, and there was always another Sunday he could miss. Dimitrov’s horse whinnied, pulling him from his thoughts. He smiled when he realized his arrival had grabbed the attention of a few early risers, eager to scan the markets for the items brought in by the merchants, but one face in particular stood out from them. Despite being mixed in with the other pale greys and whites and pinks of petticoats and pinned away hair, even from a mile away, Dimitrov could find such piercing eyes in a crowd. He climbed down from his seat, finally making eye contact with the creature he was smitten by. Elizabeta Héderváry. “Dimitri!” The woman called, making the ladies around her jump, before rolling their eyes at such brash behavior. Not that their attitude left a dent on the woman’s vibrant soul, who would rather be damned than do as what was expected of her. And as she ran towards him, her bonnet falling away, her brown hair flowing behind her in loose strands as her bun fell apart, Dimitrov was reminded why he loved her. She feared nothing but her own mind, and even then, he doubted there was much in there to fear either. “Eliza!” He called back, and lowered himself from his horse to meet his to be wife as she ran. He stepped forward to catch her embrace, and once she was with him, her arms were thrown around his neck. He thought he ought to kiss her, but decided against it when she began talking, as she was prone to do. “My wonderful, stupid fiance! I half wished you wouldn’t come back!” She teased, ruffling his ebony hair as if he were a child. Dimitrov laughed, wondering what it was this time that made her wish that. It wasn’t like it was something new. He always came home to hear her wishing he was dead to collect on his earnings, or worse, to find a real man. .But he knew it was all in good play. They were best friends, and almost lovers. The only thing that prevented them from being such was, of course, themselves. “I’ve missed you too, can you believe that? Me? Missing that annoying voice of yours?” He said, raising an eyebrow, and one look at Elizabeta’s warning green eyes matched with her warm smile was enough reason to return back into the town once more. Dimitrov and Elizabeta walked back to the town, arm in arm, his horse trailing behind them. Most came up to Dimitrov and hugged him and admitted to praying for his safe return. From women, he received graceful curtsies and light kisses on the cheeks, from men respectful bows and from children, curious coos as to what he had brought the town this time. That was what he looked forward to most on his returns. The awe and applauding from the big reveal. Dimitrov almost never brought home the same thing twice. If it wasn’t brand new, it was a new variant of a spice or textile, that the small town had never dreamed of seeing. His title was merchant, but what he really was, was a hero. To them, he was a look outside of comfortability, he was what this town feared. He was adventure. He and Eliza walked to his stand. It was always untouched, except by passersbyers who wished for it to be clean upon his arrival. Anything he brought, never went unsold, either due to its sparkle and charm, or its reliable use and ability. Eliza gently patted his arm, before pulling away. They were alone at his stand, no one wanting to be spoiled as to what Dimitrov may have brought home. “It’s actually pretty lucky you’ve returned now.” Elizabeta explained, as Dimitrov began to set up shop, just like his other fellow merchants, though all knew that today, they would be lucky to make an eighth of what Dimitrov may make. “Why? Has the church offered to suspend taxes for the month? That would be very lucky, for me.” He joked, though his jab at the church made Eliza scowl. Though she was like him in almost everyway, Dimitrov often forgot how much she valued the church. He knew it wasn’t because of God though. She was a believer, sure, but the Bulgarian was convinced that she believed more in it’s power to bring peace, rather than in God. She valued how the Church, and the priest, was able to calm a nation, even in the threat of war. “No, you devil.” She spat back. Dimitrov snickered, holding back a comment on how a lady shouldn’t talk like that. “What I meant was, your returning will serve as a distraction. Some strange things have been happening.” She explained, looking out towards the square of town. When Dimitrov looked at her, he could see the worry she wore on her face. If she could, Dimitrov was sure she would do anything to ease the people of her home. Dimitrov wasn’t so noble, but he admired it in her. “What do you mean?” He asked. Elizabeta opened her mouth to explain herself, but their conversation was interrupted when a smile broke the concern she held. Dimitrov was about to ask about the sudden change, when arms wrapped around his neck, and a deep, husky laugh came from behind him. “There’s the man of the hour!” Said the voice, and the Bulgarian instantly recognized its origins. “Sadik!” Dimitrov choked out, the man finally loosening his grip on him. The old Turkish drunk continued to laugh, and slapped him hard on the back, before Dimitrov finally had the chance to turn around and look at him. “God, you look like shit.” He commented with a smile, making the man light up with laughter once more. “Well, that’s what happens when you get old.” He explained, before giving Dimitrov a proper hug. He didn’t mind, he viewed Sadik as a father figure, after all. And it was the smell of sweat and the mix of herbs the man often bought and sold back in town, that often brought that memory back to mind, even when he would press it into the far depths of his mind.

[robultrash]

Islands {Hungary x Reader}

Created for https://countryxreader.deviantart.com/journal/Going-Coastal-Contest-692199075

I know this isn’t what I usually write, but it’s cute and sad so read. 

You buried your hands deep in your pockets, kicking holes in the sand. You looked out towards the sea. You couldn’t see anything but water and sky, but you knew there was an out there somewhere, sitting by itself, away from cities and people and boys who break hearts. You wrap the jacket around your body. The wind around you is cold against the warm tears that are sliding down your face. You wish you could be anywhere but here. That island seemed like an oasis. You wished you could go to that. But you were doomed to grey skies over grey waters.

“Not a sunshine person either?” You jumped in your spot, before jerking towards the voice. You hadn’t noticed the woman come up next to you, too deep in your own thoughts. Your first reaction is irritation, having been snuck up on, and then engaged in conversation without warning, but something about her made you rethink your sarcastic remark.

“More like mourning the loss of it.” You mumbled, staring back out at the sea. You think your response is witty and poetic, but she just laughs, making you blush a bit in frustration.

“Who are you anyways?” You ask, turning to finally get a good look at her. She stared out at the ocean as well, not acknowledging your obvious staring. He long hair is a light brown, and touches down to her mid back. She’s wearing white jeans, with a long green shaw. She’s very beautiful, you think to yourself. But that doesn’t excuse her scaring you, couldn’t she tell you were brooding?

The woman finally looks at you, and she smiles. Her eyes are a light green but they seem to be lacking in luster, you figure you probably look the same. Your eyes slowly begin to check her out, getting a feel for her figure. She’s stunning, really. She seems like the girl who would choose sunshine over overcast skies.

She finally speaks, the moment of silences indicating she was probably looking you up and down as well. You grow a bit self conscious at that thought, and tighten the jacket around you, hoping she mistakes it for the cold weather.

“My name’s Elizabeta.” She says, before shrugging. “But you can call me Eliza. Or Liz. Whatever you want really.” She said, half smiling, obviously trying to seem casual, but even you couldn’t miss the signs of awkwardness, you experienced it everyday. You were practically a pro at it.

“Uh, nice name.” You stumble out, your own inability to interact with humans showing. You usually weren’t shy. Or at least, you had thought you had gotten better when you were with your boyfriend. Maybe the break up made you incapable of interacting with people. Wow, he was taking more things away from you, great.

You sigh at your thoughts, and turn away. You had easily forgotten why you were here, but it returned with the same ease. Your exhaustion returned, and you doubted your ability to keep up a conversation.

“Are ya going to introduce yourself?” Eliza asked, and you catch out of the corner of your eyes that she’s still watching you. You begin to grow angry again, but you don’t find it in you to lash out.

“(Y/N), are you happy?” You asked, the annoyance in your voice unable to be missed by even the densest of humans.

“Not really,” She confessed, before turning back to the ocean in front of them. You think about her answer a moment. Maybe she was here for the same reasons you were. Thinking about a faraway place, away from all the crap taking place in her current world. Maybe she was grieving as well.

“Me too.” You say, before look down towards the sand and grabbing your arm, hugging yourself in an awkward way, but it brought you comfort. While Eliza’s answer could have been nothing, the tone of your voice unfortunately reveals the reason you’re here. You can’t see her reaction, but you can imagine concern washing over her face like the tide, flipping between a “I feel bad.” and a “Should I do something?” If it was you in the situation, you would walk away. You don’t know her. She may feel bad for you, but surely a stranger can’t fix a problem they know nothing about.

“Heh, I guess I see why you’re mourning then.” She says at an attempt at a joke, but you don’t laugh or smile. You could cry though. Why was Eliza even here? You had wanted to be alone.

Silence falls again, and you think that if it remains that way for long enough, she’ll leave on her own. But after five minutes, she sits down in the sand, and it becomes clear that she is not going anytime soon.

Curiosity finally gets the best of you, and you can’t help but speak up. “Why are you here? Were you just looking for someone to bug?” You ask, not raising your voice, but it’s clear you aren’t happy. She laughs again at your frustrations, and you angrily blush. You begin to lightly kick the sand, releasing a bit of your anger.

“No, but it’s certainly making me feel better that I am.” She said, and you roll your eyes. At least one of them was getting amusement out of this. Too bad it wasn’t you.

“But…” Eliza started, and you peer down at her. She isn’t looking at you, she’s looking out, towards that make believe island you desperately wanted. She probably want her own, you realize.

“You’re not the only one who needs to grieve. There are other people in this world who like to dramatically cry on the beach.” She says. The notion is sad, and a bit insulting, but she looks so casual. She leans back, digging her hands in the sand and stretching her legs. You know her pants are going to be ruined, and you don’t want to sit down and face the same fate, but you do so anyways, wanting to know more.

“I’m not being dramatic, I have my reasons for coming here.” You say, stubbornly sitting down in the stand, making sure to keep a bit of distance between you two.

“Care to share?” She asks, and you scoff.

“That’ll just make this all the more like a terrible music video.” You say, before you both share a laugh. Before Eliza’s laughs had mostly been cocky, but this was a genuine one, and you can’t help but thinking ‘wow’ when you hear it. She snorts suddenly, and you laugh even harder.

“Stop it!” She says through more laughter, and she leans over, pushing you slightly. You ignore the gesture, finding that you didn’t mind it.

“You would have laughed if it had been me.” You point out, and you mentally note that she does not deny it.

“Well, at least I got you smiling.” She says, and you turn a light pink, before rolling your eyes.

“Wow, you’ve really saved me. Truly swept off my feet.” You said in a sarcastic tone. Eliza snickers, and you feel a bit of pride swell in you. At least your guys’ sarcasm was on the same level.

“That was my plan all along, you know.” She says, before leaning back again. You watch her for a moment, before deciding to do the same.

A silence falls over you too again, though it isn’t awkward this time, though you do wish it would end. You decide that it wouldn’t hurt if you were the one to break it.

“This is where my boyfriend asked me out.” You suddenly say, grabbing Eliza’s attention. You aren’t looking at her, but at your lap, thinking about all the times you had came here with him, and all the times you had laughed and loved here. This beach was an oasis. Now you longed for islands that didn’t exist.

Another beat, before you continue on. “I know it’s pretty silly, to beat yourself up over breaks ups, but it’s hard not to, you know? Like, you think of all the things you could have done better. You think everything's going right, and then you wake up and you realize actually, it was all wrong.” You start to feel that sadness build up in you again, and it becomes kind of hard to hold it back this time. This was a conversation you should be having with your friend, not a stranger at the beach, but it feels good to say them.

You look over at Eliza, and she’s looking at you. Her eyes are sad. You think you’ve overshared. You open your mouth to apologize, but she speaks up before you can.

“I get it.” She says, offering you a small smile. “Break ups are tough, even if you know it’s for the better.” She says. “But, you do move on.” She says. “The coast you see now is different from the one from the past. Everything changes.” She explains, letting sand run through her fingers. You look down at the golden grains, and you think about her words.

“And sometimes we find new beaches at new coasts, and we start again.” She says with a softer smile, and you have to look away, afraid she may see you blushing.

“You sound like starving artist.” You comment, making her laugh. You smile too, and you like the way you feel. You’re still sad, but with her it’s not so bad.

“Sorry, I just, I know how it feels. And I want you to know that it does get better.” She explains. You nod slightly, before looking back out.

The sun pokes through the clouds, which you think is a bit too symbolic for real life. She notices the sun too.

“Wanna know why I’m here?” She asks, and you nod again. You had been curious from the start. She had seemed sad too, and you hoped now that you could make her feel as good as she was making you feel.

She goes to stand up, and you watch her carefully. She brushes the sand off her pants and shaw, and the cocky grin returns to her face.

“Meet me here tomorrow and I’ll tell you.” She says with a wink. You stare at her in confusion as she begins to walk off. Immediately you stand up, not even bothering to clean yourself off right away.

“Hey! You can’t just leave!” You say, beginning to follow after her, but she turns around, walking backwards towards the grass.

“Come tomorrow! And bring a blanket!” She calls to you, before hurrying off, not wanting to be followed. You chase after her for a moment, wanting a better answer, or in the very least insurance that she will meet you tomorrow, but you lose her by the time you make it back to the street. You figure she must live nearby, or she snuck into an alley way to avoid you. Either way you lost her. You feel a bit of sadness that she’s gone. A part of you is convinced she won’t come tomorrow, that she was just a wise sage who was only meant to impart wisdom on you once, and then disappear forever. You hardly knew Eliza. In fact, you didn’t really know anything about her at all, but you know you want to see her again, and that’s why, as you walk towards your car, you hope with all your heart she will show up again.

---

She hadn’t give you a time, so you came to the beach the same time you had yesterday. You were sitting on the sheet you had brought this time, four rocks weighing it down. It was windier than yesterday, and still overcast, making it chillier. You kind of wish she had asked you out for coffee, or literally anywhere warm.

You try not to focus on the fact that that would be considered a date.

When you finally spot her, she’s running towards you, waving her hands and smiling like a puppy dog geeting it’s owner. The whole exchange is fairly adorable. Today she’s wearing jeans with a green flannel. When she makes it to you, she doesn’t hesitate to lay on the blanket, rolling to her side to face you. You continue to sit cross legged, staring at her with an amused smile.

“Glad to see you again. I thought you might bail on me.” You say, trying to sound nonchalant, though it had been a genuine concern of yours. She laughed, and your smile grew brighter. Though clouds still claimed the sky, and the wind blew all around, you were convinced today was a better day.

“Nah, not without getting your number first anyways.” She said with a wink. You rolled your eyes, unimpressed. Besides, what was she trying to accomplish by a fake flirty attitude?

“Cut to the chase, why were you at the beach yesterday?” You asked, scooting closer, in case the story grew sad, and she needed comfort. You thought back to your island, but the need for it seemed to dwindle.

Eliza grew quiet a moment, before she rolled onto her back, staring up at the sky, scanning it for something, though nothing could be seen.

“I told you yesterday, I’m a fan of muck.” She said, but you were not going to accept that as an answer. She was clearly upset yesterday, though she was awfully good at hiding it. You probably only noticed because of your own attempts to hide your true feelings, though you had obviously failed miserably.

“Try again.” You said, hugging your knees to your chest and staring at her. You watched her breath for a moment, before a sigh escaped her lips.

“Do you know why I like grey?” She asked, and you shook your head, though the question was pretty absurd. How would you know?

“Had a lovely friend, few years ago. His hair was silver.” She explained, before rolling back onto her side. “He was albino, but I that didn’t stop me from calling him an old man. In reality though we were about the same age.” She explained. You tilted your head slightly, not understanding how this was connected to the beach, though from the look in her eyes, you could tell she was being serious, even as she tried to laugh. Her eyes watered slightly, but she wouldn’t let herself cry.

“Anyways, he always wanted to go to the beach all the time. Guy was a complete child. But with his condition, he couldn’t be outside long, unless he wanted to get third degree burns from the sun.” She said, smiling at the thought. You smiled too, but you knew she was smiling at a memory, and not at her words.

“So one of the only times we could go to the beach was when it was cloudy. We knew it might rain. We knew it was cold. But still, we’d throw on our swimsuits and come here.” She said, before looking towards the ocean.

“The idiot loved it.” She said, before looking back at you. She continued to smile, but you wanted to tell her she could stop, she didn’t have to tell you the story. You were beginning to piece together what sort of story this was going to be, and you knew it was something much harder to move on from than a breakup.

“Eliza,” You whisper, inching closer, giving her permission to stop wordlessly. But she just rolls her watery eyes and smirks.

“Hey, you don’t need to worry about it.” She said. “I’m fine. He died a few years ago. Liver failure. Never could get him to stop drinking.” She said, sitting up, and wiping her eyes lightly. You sit there wordlessly. Eliza was still a stranger, you knew that in your head. But your heart reached out to her. And it was the heart in control when you were suddenly holding her arm, squeezing it lightly.

“He sounded like a good man.” You say. She smiles and nods.

“Yeah, he was.” She rests her hand over yours, and you two sit in silence for a few moments. It’s a warranted silence. The waves crash against the beach, and you both think about your pasts. Even though your problems seem so insignificant compared to hers, yesterday she had treated you like your happiness was the most important thing in the world. Despite her own pains, she had looked out for you.

“I know yesterday you said he this coast is always changing.” You started, looking down at hers and your hands. She looks at you for a moment.

“I think so too, but all those changes get carried away, and they form their own little islands. They live on forever, the good and the bad.” You say. Eliza smiles gently.

“I like that idea.” She states, before gently patting your hand, before moving out of your grip. You let her go as she lays back on the sheet.

“Think this moment will get it’s own island?” She asks. You look out into the open water, before smiling brightly.

“Yeah, I think it will.” You say. “This, and all the moments to follow.” You add.

You see Eliza blush, and you consider that a complete win. She laughs as well, and the wind carries it away, towards the island you made two made.

[robultrash]

Good For You

Sixteen. Not adult, but not a child either. You can make decisions, but now you get to deal with the consequences. Close your eyes, pretend you haven’t built up a life on lies.

“What? Suddenly I’m not good enough for ya?!”

Sadik. He took you in. He raised you, brought you up to be the in between you are now. You don’t know how to explain that this isn’t an attack on him, that your leaving isn’t meant to be a message of defiance. You love him, but the dark shadow of a life that haunts over you while under his off white walls prevents you from becoming more than what you could be in life. You could maybe find happiness, if only you weren’t here. If you could be anywhere else.

“That isn’t it! Quit making this about yourself and think about me!” But all you think about is yourself, isn’t it? Years and years of self-loathing, self-pity. Self-care. Self self self. Selfish. The only self you’ve been unable to obtain is selfless, and self love.

“What do-I’ve been thinking about you for years!” He screams. His breath his familiar, it’s like cigarettes. You never told him about your habit. He can probably smell it on you too, never saying anything, hoping you would resolve the issue yourself. That’s what sixteen does to you. You have to do things on your own. Even though you’ve never done it before.

“For years you’ve made me feel guilty for being here!” You explain. And it’s true. Your whole existence is made of guilt. If you could take all the guilt, and throw it away, vomit it from your body, maybe you wouldn’t seem so sad. You may be empty, but empty is better than the tortures that eat away at you. Tortures not meant for sixteen. Hell, not meant for any age. But it’s you who bears sins you didn’t commit. The act of being alive, wasn’t your fault. And you could have rid yourself of such burden plenty of times. But at sixteen, you can never go through with it.

“Oh, oh so that’s it huh? How in the hell am I supposed to validate your existence every time you fuck up, Dimitri? What? Want me to fix what I can’t see? Want me to feel sorry for the things you hide? It isn’t fair to me! I don’t know jack shit because you hide everything from, but I’m expected to just roll with it?” He asks you.  And that’s all too much, too much guilt. You may actually vomit. But you stand straighter. You aren’t anywhere near his height, but you can make yourself look strong, stronger than you feel.

“No, just don’t do anything and let me leave!” You demand, and for a moment Sadik looks sad. Like he genuinely wants you to stay, that he can’t bare the thought to see you go. But the flash flickers away, and you’re reminded of that parent selfishness that they demand when they tell their children to do something, anything, just because they are the guardian. They don’t care if you fuck up, so long as it’s not on their watch.

“Let you live on your own? You basically do that here anyways.” That was both of their faults, but Sadik made it seem like it was all your own. Of course you were more content to hide alone, to shield yourself from the world. But it wasn’t like he ever made the effort to break down such barriers. He was just as content to let you sit in darkness and fear as you were.

“Then it shouldn’t be a problem, god damn it! If you ever, ever wanted to be some semblance of a fucking father, than let me go!” You demand. You don’t like demands, but you stand firm on this one. You know attacking his fatherhood is a below the belt move, but you relish in the hurt that overwhelms the angry brown eyes that have been glaring at you.

“I, FUCKING love you!” Sadik bellows. And both love and hate seem to envelope that statement. You can’t figure which one is the most abundant.  You’ve never quite figured out if the old man truly loved you more than he loathed being a father, or if his discontent in life drowned out his love for you and everything you became. “I have loved you from the moment I met you, don’t try and pretend like I haven’t tried to do everything in my power to love and take care of you!”

“And yet, the only time I have EVER felt loved was when I was far away from you!” A fleeting memory crossed your mind of sitting in the back seat of a car, kissing a boy who made your lips tingle. Was that love? You weren’t sure. But sometimes it felt more than any emotion you had ever managed. You knew that with time, what we perceive as love could be deluded, a firm talk very well could be the truest form of love between a sixteen year old and his father, but you weren’t sure. You couldn’t recall the last time Sadik had said he loved you. Of course he would boast about his amazing son, how gifted you were at design, but that could have all been in the name of having something to brag about. You were never quite sure, since Sadik was just as good at hiding his love for you as you were at hiding yourself from the world.

Sadik was silent, processing everything. You thought maybe you had won, maybe he would just give up, like a dying man accepting his fate. But then, he had one more, last dying testimony.

“You want to go? Fine. Go. Be in the world you’ve hide yourself from, I’m sure you will manage just fine.” He said, before turning his back on you. You stare at it a moment, and wonder if this is what’s good for you. But you have to stay strong. You watch him walk away, and with him he drags your chains. But you don’t feel free. For a moment, you don’t feel anything.

You long to be away, you wish you could stay. But you will never be good enough here. And even if you remain a nothing in the real world, at least you are one in a million, instead of always coming second place to a man who put himself first.

[robultrash]

To Stand Alone (Prologue)

Prologue: Forgotten Memories The following series is a RoBul Fanfiction. Dimitrov Alexi (Bulgaria) was the only survivor of his village after a vicious attack from a clan of Vampires. When found, he is brought to a new town, and raised as a merchant. However, when the town is suddenly taunted by vampires, fear arises, and Dimitrov's survival is put on trial. Vladimir (Romania) is a vampire, whose clan has abandoned him after learning about his impurity. On his own, he must find a way to try and survive, for a vampire without his clan is as good as dead. His only hope is to find the one who brought about this impurity. Both stand out to their kind, will being the alone be what bring them together? (Author's Note) This story is dedicated to derpyon on Instagram, who won my contest, and requested a RoBul Medieval fanafic! I have huge plans for this though, and honestly, I'm expecting it to be one of the best things I ever write. This first chapter is meant to be a look inside what happened in the past, hopefully this all make sense!

Screams pierce the sullen air. Many people have tried to run and escape their fate. Others stay hidden, under beds and in attics, hoping for a bit of luck, praying they won’t be found. But fear is strong in humans, and nothing can seem to mask such a scent.

 A young boy, nine years old, hides deep in the wooden frames of his closet. His ebony hair clings to his face with sweat. He can hear the cries of his parents. First his father, who begged to be spared. Man shouldn’t sound as hopeless as his father did. His mother, insisting the man was the only thing in her life. The boy knows it’s all a ploy, to try and protect him.

 “Oh God, where is God?” His mother prays, before a shriek escapes her mualed body. The boy covers his mouth, trying not to scream, or vomit, or both. He hears footsteps up the stairs. He almost hopes he’s found. He doubts his parents are alive. He wouldn’t be able to see them. Her brunette hair caked in blood, or his father’s throat still struggling for a final breath, if their corpses remain distinguishable at all. The boy thought it better to accept death than have to life in the misery, knowing his whole world laid at the bottom of the stairs, drenched in their last fight for life.

 The stairs creak louder, and the footsteps fall heavy. The boy repeats a prayed his mother taught him. He wished he had learned a final prayer, to secure his soul would go to heaven, but he doubts God could deny him, not after the torture he had endured. The boy can hear the monster enter his room. He can’t hide anymore, surely his scent has been followed. He closes his eyes, and hopes it will be painless, when he is abruptly found.

 A hand is placed over his mouth, preventing a scream. His green eyes grow wide with terror as he stares at the shape before him. He’s covered in blood, and face is hidden by a mask, painted with fine blue details that form an elegant, but fictional face. The only true feature he can see from the being is scarlet eyes that could have been beautiful, if not for the resemblance of blood they held.

 “You’ll be safe.” The vampire spoke, his voice sounding soft and far away. Dimitrov suddenly felt very tired, too tired to fight the fright that engulfed him. He nodded carefully, before shutting his eyes, laying his head against the wall.

 The last thing he remembered was his savior’s voice, calling down that no human was left.