USSR x Third Reich

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A/n: Greetings! And here I present you an another finished request.
My dearest apologies for the lack of updates as I am slowly losing my sanity but luckily I have escaped from hell we call the school.
However, I am extremely grateful for all the lovely requests you are putting down, dear readers, and I can't wait to complete them!
Enough of my gibberish, enjoy this sucky one-shot!

×Warning: events that may be offensive to some, strong language, a slight hint of gore, involves Nazi Germany and the Soviet Union.

× ∅ BIG WARNING ∅ ×

This chapter contains smut/lemon which involves sexual activity. If you are uncomfortable reading such things, please don't progress beyond this point!

You have been warned!

- - - - -

If it weren't for the echoes of barbaric laughter, incomprehensible mumbling and shouting in varying languages, this sorrowful land would have been already fallen silent to sulk its defeat. A wicked force, numerous times greater than estimated, struck the core of this now forsaken and robbed of vitality nation. Why would that be surprising though, everyone suspected this to happen at some point anyway. A ghastly nightmare of a neighbouring country dug its razor-sharp "claws" from the West and a fiend straight out of the flames of hell crashed through the border from the eastern front. Truly a duo made by the Devil himself.

What an unfortunate turn of events for Poland, a gentle, valiant and sweet country, respected by most. Did he do something to send the two monstrosities chase after him till the last droplet of his blood? Certainly not, but in the end, the smaller country got torn in half, flesh ripped apart, blood gushing out on the war-beaten soil, a memory to be engraved for generations to come.

The dreadful Polish landscape was occupied by countless campaign tents, a short distance separated both of the distinct invaders' territory. The winds of the East roared with an intimation of faint Russian words, blowing them to the West, which reverberated in German-sounding lines. Both parties seemed to be celebrating their guaranteed victory, but the atmosphere felt heavy and uneasy for some reason.

It was quite a bold move of the Third German Reich to seek out for an alliance with the mighty Soviet Union, a request that arguably would have been denied in an instant. Or so he had thought. Now, here they were, two cruel regimes, almost shoulder to shoulder, sharing a newly conquered landmass. All it's left is to determine a border between the confederated pair, nothing more.

The German leader patiently waited for the Union's arrival in the corner of his gigantic tent. As the weather was chilly and the winds fought one another, circling in an invisible vortex, the Third Reich savoured every sip of pure black coffee which served as a distraction to pass the time and warm him up. Faint sounds created by firm steps of German soldiers, coming outside the large leather structure, indicated that the guest of honour was still not present.

The Nazi spared a glance at the calendar, recalling all the masterful tactics, plans and stratagems that have been brought to the battlefield and some yet to be applied. His deadpan expression twisted into a disturbing grimace as the German's eyes landed on the blank slots of a few upcoming days and weeks. The anticipation to finally unleash everything he's been stockpiling inside, the first steps to unravelling his so desired race of perfection, to introduce his wildest yet flawless aspirations to the world. All these thoughts swirled like a never-ending storm inside of the regime's head, almost making him drool from the desire scorching deeply in the core of his heart.

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