Angst Week No. 4!
(Warning: Domestic abuse, cruel punishments(I'm just gonna be putting this here in case idk-), murder??, body horror/gore, blood, nightmares, and panic attacks)
O.O I don't know what this chapter is either I just let my inner demon vent its heart out-
Thank you all so much for 70.1K READS!!! I was so surprised this morning when I looked-
❤❤❤💖💖💖💖❤❤💞💞💕💕💕 *sanitizes unlimited candy box and puts on table*
Ah hope the candy will help with the angst XD
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Russia touched a paper drawing taped to the wall. A few coloured stick figures were doodled on it, blue clouds and a smiling sun hanging above them. He laughed, jumping up and down on his bed. He loved jumping on his bed, it was fun!
Suddenly there was a loud scream from downstairs, and he stopped, eyes widen with fright and realizing what he had just done. There was a loud crash of glass and then thumping on the stairs. He could hear crying as well, as he started to panic, tears welling in his eyes.
His door slammed open, the door knob coming loose from the wood and hurling across his room from the force of it being twisted. A large figure came in, eyes glowing an angry gold in rage. In his hand, he wielded a long stick, not very thick in diameter, but dense and heavy.
"РОССИЙСКАЯ СОВЕТСКАЯ ФЕДЕРАТИВНАЯ СОЦИАЛИСТИЧЕСКАЯ РЕСПУБЛИКА(1)!!" He shouted on top of his lungs. Russia could feel it resonate through his entire body, it was deafeningly loud, and the anger in it made him panic more, whimpering softly as tears spilled over his small cheeks.
The large figure stormed over, his heavy black boots making the floor tremble. He was too scared and frightened to even scramble away from the danger, frozen in a curled up position on his bed. "You're crying?" A accent-heavy voice snarled over him, and he smelt the fumes of vodka on his breath.
Russia whimpered again, feeling his chest start to constrict as his hands shook despite him holding them tight. "Weak." The snarling voice said again, thumping the stick on his palm as he glared down at him.
Raising it with lighting speed above his head, he let it arc down, hitting the boy on the shoulder.
Russia cried out, curling in on himself more as more hard hits rained down on him. He didn't dare move, the last time he tried to run away he got thrown in the basement for two days, and it was winter.
He stopped, inspecting his work. There was no blood yet, but he was sure under the clothing his boy's clothing would be bruises. He laughed and dropped the stick on the bed, grabbing the locks of red and blue hair in one hand and yanking his head up.
Russia flinched as he saw his father, eyes glowing with rage and satisfaction, his red skin flushed from the adrenaline and alcohol. The tears still streamed down his face and he struggled to gulp air in his constricting lungs.
"Making so much noise...глупый мальчик(2)-" He growled, his pointed teeth glinting. Russia sobbed, it hurt, he wished he would let go of his hair. His body hurt from the beating, but he deserved it. It was his fault.
"п-папа..." He whimpered. But he only got a harder glare, and then he was picked up from the bed and slammed into the wall on his back. He screamed, struggling to get down. Soviet held him higher up the wall, pinning him by the neck and waist with both arms.
"ПАПА ПОЖАЛУЙСТА-(3)" He screamed out, thrashing as hard as he could. That only seemed to anger him more, and he started to choke.
"Папа I-I can't breathe. I can't- I can't breath-" Russia gagged, trying futilely to get air. He felt like he was going to throw up, everything was turning blurry. His struggled to keep kicking his legs and trying to pry away the strong arm pressing on his windpipe.
Soviet bared his teeth and dropped the arm on his throat, but keep his torso pinned. The young boy gasped, starting to cough and sob with harsh shaking. He pressed down harder on his arm, making him scream and gasp again.
"Украина(4)!!" He shouted loudly. There was a soft sound of footsteps and then a smaller head peeked through the door.
"Come here."
The younger boy slowly stepped in, and Russia saw tear tracks on his face too. But what shocked him most was the red swelling on the right side of his face. It was a hard blow, and he knew it must hurt.
Soviet turned back to look at Russia slowly, the stench of vodka getting almost unbearable now.
"You're lucky I didn't beat you like him, aren't you?" He growled. Russia gagged, but nodded. "д-да, папа..."
He cried out again as he got a hard slap to the face, making a new bout of tears flow down his cheeks. Ukraine flinched as well, staring at the ground, not saying a word.
"I asked you in English." Soviet snarled at him, holding him harder against the wall. Russia started to thrash again, his stomach hurt from the pressure of the muscled arm on him. "Y-Yes papa, p-please stop h-hurts-" He sobbed, heaving for breath.
Soviet looked at him disdainfully, and let go, turning around to look at Ukraine. Russia dropped to the ground, curling up on the floor and continuing to cry. Everything hurt, and he coughed weakly, feeling soreness through his entire body.
"I'm letting you off easy this time, Россия." He heard the harsh voice again, starting to sound slightly tired. The alcohol must had finally let loose. A large, callused hand gripped his chin and yanked him up to see a angry red face glaring down at him.
"If I hear another sound I will throw you into the well again. No one will help you or they will get locked in the basement." He hissed the last part toward Ukraine, who whimpered and wiped his wet eyes.
Standing up, Soviet walked out of his room, and picked up his bottle from the railing before stomping to his room, closing the door with a loud slam that rang through the whole house. Ukraine trembled and looked at his older brother one more time, who was curled up on the floor crying silently. He stepped backward reluctantly with fear and ran away.
Russia clenched his aching stomach, which must have a dark bruise forming across it right now. His shoulder and other areas of his body hurt too. He wiped his face with his sleeve furiously. Weak. Pathetic. Папа never liked crying. Why did he always have to cry when he was hurt?
The voices grew louder, and he whimpered, clamping his palms over his ear in attempt to shut them off. They didn't stop, echoing inside his mind like that time he shouted into a cave. Russia clawed at his head, breathing quickly as more voices joined in, his friends, his siblings.
Please....stop!
(🐢 🐢 🐢)
He jolted out of bed, heaving for air. He could still feel the pain on his body, and he grabbed at his throat where the bruises should be.
Kicking his legs frantically, he managed to break free of the confines of the blanket and brought them up to his chest, hyperventilating. Russia pulled at his hair, the white locks fluttering over his eyes.
"Russia? Russia are you okay?"
Germany stirred awake to see his bed companion gone from beside him, instead sat up and breathing quickly. He sat up and scooted closer to him, but not touching. When Russia had a nightmare, he didn't liked to be approached or touched immediately after because it might trigger the memories again.
Russia heard him, telling him to breath slowly again, going through the breathing exercise with him. Slowly, he got himself in control again, and felt the pressure in his throat ebb away. He moved his knees away from his chest, a signal to Germany that he could approach him now.
He felt arms around him, pulling him in and rubbing his back comfortingly. The tears came again, and he let them flow down freely, hugging his lover tightly.
"Shh its okay now..."
"Tell me about it, what happened?" He heard, and froze. He didn't feel like telling him about his dreams right now...but he asked. Shouldn't he tell him?
"Um...my father...it was another beating..." He mumbled softly. It felt uncomfortable, he didn't want to talk about, and he got quiet again, keeping his grip tight.
"You have to go into more detail, liebling. What happened?"
Russia shut his eyes as the vivid dream/memory flashed in his mind again, and made a small sound, burying his face in Germany's shoulder. He heard a tsking sound and his smaller hand on his back again. It felt weird, but...It was Germany, right? He was safe.
"Come on, how can you not even talk about something so simple, it was just some silly dream." He heard him laugh, and curl his fingers into his hair. Russia froze again, this was wrong. Very wrong. He pulled away quickly, coming face to face with that familiar face. But...something was off.
"What's wrong, liebling?" He purred, with a slight head tilt that was both mocking and beaconing. Russia moved away, but was stopped by a hand intertwined with his own. He trembled, new tears going down his face.
Those golden eyes, they were different. His Germany's eyes were a soft, honey like gold, full of emotion and love. These were... solid, cold, unmoving gold blocks. Shining with an unnatural glare that kept him frozen with fear.
The Germany in front of him laughed again, pointed white teeth glinting. "You know, maybe the reason why your father always beat you, was because you were weak." He said brightly, tapping a finger on his chin.
"You never knew what hopes he had for you, how great he wished you could be." He hissed, leaning forward closer to his face. Russia swallowed painfully through his clogged throat, trying to scramble backward.
"He only wanted the best for you, he beat you because he loved you" He said in a mocking tone, grinning. "Like how he loved everyone, all the little humans living in his country. Because one day they would be your people." He snickered, moving away from his face.
Russia shook his head, trying to stop him from saying anymore, but he couldn't move. Those golden eyes looked down at him, alight with evil glee.
"He's right, you know."
A familiar voice said, and a figure stepped out from the shadows, the same gold eyes as the Germany in front of him. Russia's eyes widen and he started breathing quickly, seeing a golden sickle spinning lazily in his hand. A knife blade glinted under the long sleeve of his other arm.
"Why couldn't you just learn then, little Россия?" He said, stopping at the foot of the bed. Germany's grin wided more unnaturally, and he ripped his hand away from him, getting up to stand beside Soviet. Russia gasped, watching his boyfriend, which wasn't really his boyfriend, he tried to remind himself frantically. But it looked like him so much.
"Well, since you couldn't learn, I tried other ways, didn't I?" Soviet laughed. Russia was suddenly hit with his siblings screams and cries in his mind, Belarus clutching a burnt hand to her chest, Lithuania screaming at him for help before the dark door of the basement blocked his view.
Soviet laughed as he watched on his son's torment, the smaller country beside him laughing as well. He spun his sickle over his knuckles again, eyeing that slim neck. One swipe with his blade...
The sounds let off, and Russia gasped for breath, coughing out tears. He shakily got up from his curled up position he had gotten into on his elbows, looking at his father and Germany with blurry vision.
"Hm...maybe now...you could learn." Soviet hummed, grabbing Germany's shoulder and pulling him in front of him, holding the curved blade over his neck. He grinned and watched as Russia panicked more.
"N-No!!! Папа please-please don't!" He choked out. Germany started to scream, thrashing around. That convinced him totally, and he scrambled up, trying to get to him.
Suddenly they were in empty space. It was all black, and they fell to the ground. Russia wheezed and rolled off his arm, standing up shakily. His father and Germany were already up, still in the same position. Germany shouted out to him again, grabbing at the sickle and trying to pry it away from his throat.
"NO!!" Russia cried out, running over, but was suddenly hit with a hard barrier. He fell to his knees, holding his cheek that slammed right on the surface. He felt it, it just seemed to be some invisible wall, cliche, but very effective.
The sickle got closer, touching his skin. Russia pounded on the barrier, running left and right as he tried to find the end of the barrier. Soviet laughed, tightening his grip on the thrashing country and letting the hidden knife blade slip down from his sleeve, gripping it with his free hand like a dagger.
"I'm only doing this for your own good." Soviet mumbled with a sick grin, flicking the knife around one more time, and sank the knife into the smaller country's back, tilting it upwards so it came out through his chest on the other side.
"Германия!!"
Soviet laughed, dropping the limp body to the ground with the knife still through him.
Russia dropped to his knees, weakly punching the wall, tears streaming down his face heavily. He didn't know what was real anymore, if that Germany was even his Germany he knew, this must be some weird dream his mind created. But he couldn't care, it felt too real. His love was dying right in front of him, by the person of his worst memories.
"Oh Russia." Soviet sighed as he walked over to him, his gold eyes glinting with mock sympathy and evil glee. Russia sobbed, not looking up at him. He heard the tsking sound and then felt his father's presence right on top of him, as if the barrier wasn't even there.
"Hopefully, you'll learn now."
He didn't hear him go, just felt it. Lifting up his head, he looked around his surroundings, still the black room that he could somehow see through. Germany lay in a unmoving sprawled out position across the room.
"Germany!!"
The barrier had disappeared, letting him rush to his side. Germany was already deadly pale, and his eyes were closed. Russia clenched his teeth, swiping his hand across his eyes to wipe away the tears. The knife protruding from his chest was bloody, and around his wound was a huge pool of blood.
With shaking hands he could barely control, he grabbed his shoulders and held him up gently. "Г-Германия?"
Russia heard a faint breath, and his head slowly turned to face him. He gripped him tighter, trembling with sobs at the sight before him.
"You didn't save me."
Russia froze as Germany's lips moved, the words slipping out from between them like a weak breeze. His eyelids flickered, then opened wide.
"Why didn't you save me, Russland?"
Russia couldn't tear his glance away from his eyes, which were a dead, grey colour, iris and everything else. They were filled with hurt, agony and betrayal. Germany's eyes started to crack, and a red liquid seeped out from them, rolling down his greyish-white cheeks like tears.
He couldn't say anything, and only held on to his body with a death grip as his own body was wracked with sobs. Germany's lips continued moving, his words becoming a chant, breaking him down piece by piece.
why didn't you save me why didn't you save me why didn't you save me why didn't you save me why didn't you save me why didn't you save me why didn't you save me-
(🐢 🐢 🐢)
Russia screamed, crossing his arms as tightly as he could to his chest. He sat up and forced his stiff legs into his compressed ball as well, sobbing and barely able to breath.
"N-No I'm s-sorry!! I'm sorry I'm sorry-" He choked out, which made him get even less oxygen into his air-starved lungs. He rocked himself back and forward, trembling harshly. He couldn't hear anything, or feel anything, he just couldn't stop seeing those bleeding grey eyes and moving mouth.
Germany didn't know what to do, whatever this memory was, it was really bad this time. His boyfriend was completely unresponsive, and wouldn't stop shaking and saying sorry. What did he dream about?
"Russland can you hear me?" He pleaded again, getting desperate. The no-touching rule was getting very hard to obey if he couldn't do anything. Should he respect his boundaries or should he do whatever it had to take to help him?
Russia bit his lip, squeezing his eyes shut as more thought bombarded his mind. His teeth broke skin, and Germany gasped as he saw blood slipping down his chin. He knew he had to help now, or he wouldn't hurt himself more.
"Liebe please listen to me." He tried one more time, before putting his hand gently on his shoulder. Russia flinched violently and gripped his hair with both hands, making it stick up around his fingers.
Germany nearly let go, feeling extremely guilty for breaking this rule. He took a deep breath, he couldn't afford to panic now either, not when his boyfriend needed him. He couldn't let his own demons out right now.
"Russland breath. You have to breath. Listen to my voice and follow me." He said softly, nervously at first then more calmly. He had to stay calm to make him calm too.
Russia didn't know where he was, but he heard him. He swiveled around, trying to follow him. His voice reached him slowly, like a faint, delayed radio, but he had to listen. A small part of him, still stuck in the dream, tried to warn him it might be another trick.
He had to trust him.
"Unclench your jaw, liebe. Slowly." Germany said, lifting up his other hand gradually to rest it on his other shoulder. Russia trembled under his touch but let go of his lip, opening his mouth and gasping in air.
"Ja that's good, Russland. Breath for me."
He inhaled shakily, hardly managing a full breath before coughing. Germany kneaded his shoulder gently, trying to give him as much reassurance as possible while keeping his distance. It was hard, but he had to try.
"It's okay, babe. It's okay. You don't need to breathe too hard. Go easy."
After Russia had stopped coughing and gasped air in in the small volumes he was comfortable in again, Germany asked him softly "Can you nod if you can heard me right now? It's okay if you can't, just keep listening."
Mustering his will power, Russia managed to get his tensed up muscles working, and nodded slightly, already exhausted. "Okay, that's good Russland. That's good, I'm proud of you. Keep breathing, okay? In for 4, hold for 7, then out for 8. Can you do that for me?"
Russia nodded again, and followed Germany's breathing, abit shakily. But he still completed it, and sobbed, falling into his chest and clinging on to him. Germany hugged him back as tightly, nearly crying as well, he was so worried.
"I got you, Russ. It's okay. I'm here, I love you. I love you so much. I'm here." He mumbled, half trying to reassure himself. He turned his head to press his lips to Russia's temple, rubbing his cheek against the wet one across.
Russia buried his hands in the silky, black hair, hugging him tightly to assure himself that the Germany in front of him was real. He had to be, he was so exhausted. He couldn't cry anymore. Everything felt so sore.
Germany sniffed, and eased him back down to the bed, sensing that he was getting tired. Russia curled up and wrapped his arms around him, not wanting to let go.
He smiled weakly and wiped away his tears with his fingers. It always made a pang in his heart when he saw his brave Russland's face tearstained and utterly broken, but no one could remain strong forever. Not even for others who were broken.
He felt Russia's grip loosen as he dozed off again. Germany prayed he wouldn't face any more of his demons tonight, and gently kissed his forehead. He didn't want to see him hurt again. He slowly closed his eyes, reluctant to leave his beloved out of his vision, but his own drowsiness pulled him under, and he tucked his head under his chin, keeping his presence close.
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Um.
We might as well change this into Russland Whump week lol-
Ahhhhh getting addicted to angst what does writing soft kisses feel like again someone please remind so I don't forget-
Just Kidding I'll never forget fluff. Fluff gud and I promise after No.7 we're all going to have to go to the dentist XDXDXD
Translations:
(1) Russian Soviet Federative Socialist Republic
(2) stupid boy
(3) Dad please-
(4) Ukraine
Thanks for reading :) Please remember to breath. And take care of yourself :)