No means no [North Korea] [Mature]
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Post by Russia - Ivan Braginsky on Mar 20, 2015 21:50:12 GMT -5
[North Korea]
Living a long life as Ivan had, you learn to handle multiple different personalities. He had met arrogant nations. He had met timid nations. The following nation was one in a category all his own. A small piece of his unmoving heart had certainly been reserved for North Korea. He had met the country when he was young, and when America wished to separated him from his brother, he felt empathy for the poor nation. After all, his sisters had been pulled away from him at a young age as well. He had sided with North Korea during the war, supplying him the support he might need as a father figure, and some ways, Ivan felt he was a part of the boy’s development.
Hmm, he didn’t understand how North Korea became so…odd. Ivan had not thought his teachings so ruthless, yet the man was…peculiar. He certainly valued their friendship. Ivan had such few friends, but the man had a tendency to push beyond the respected lines, which was why Ivan found himself in North Korea’s home now. Rumors had floated around about North Korea achieving their first nuclear weapon, and naturally it made not only the Allegiance uncomfortable, but the Joint Pact as well. North Korea followed no rules, only his own rules that could change on a daily flip of a coin. Ivan would not leave the future of the world to a rumbustious child. He rubbed his gloved hands together, blowing air into them to warm them up. Winter had come far too early this year, and it seemed to follow him into any county.
A deep calming breath later, he walked up the multiple thousands of steps to North Korea’s palace. The man loved to gloat, though this small piece of land was hardly anything to be proud of in Ivan’s eyes. He felt the stares from the Korean guards. None stopped him. They must have been aware of his arrival. It took far too long to reach the top. He almost lost his smile in the process, but after a moment of shifting his jacket back into place, he knocked on the door.
“My little North Korea, I hope you are home,” he said through the door to whoever might open it.
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Post by Deleted on Mar 21, 2015 20:10:49 GMT -5
The door opened and in a flash a figure had attached to Ivan. His legs wound around his waist and his arms around his neck. Yong-Sun, dressed in his olive, soldier’s dress uniform nuzzled the colder country. “Comrade Russia! My guards thought they had seen you!” And yes, so he’d been watching from another room of the palace with his binoculars. No one really had to know that. Nor that he’d been both excited and agitated. What the fuck did Ivan want? Not that he was angry at Ivan, at least not much. Maybe a little, but not murderously so. It was just a reaction. Whenever Russia came it was usually to scold him or tell him how to do something “the right way” which always started with “Well in my home this…”
North Korea was one of the few who would bluntly question the nation, but he did respect the man even if he was basically sold to him after the second World War. That was when he and his brother split from one another and that’s when everything had begun to change between them. He had been such a different nation before then. He was always the more outspoken of the two, but he had not been “odd” then. Traumatized, yes? But he’d not been “peculiar”. Had something pushed him over the edge? Or had he simply grown into the shoes he’d always had? He knew the whispers that people thought him cruel and insane. Those were ridiculous and anyone who dared to utter them would immediately be beheaded publically! But he digressed…Russia was here!
Maybe he was here to see the weapons he’d constructed! He’d of course made a nuclear weapon and that had America shaking in his boots thinking he was going to fire it on him. It was almost too tempting to give that cocky bastard something bigger than a hamburger to stuff into his gob.
Yong-Sun dropped from Russia and with a hand on his chest gestured into the rest of his home. “Come in and relax…Mi-ja!” He yelled. “This occasion deserves vodka, go fetch some from the cellar!”
He gave a smile to Russia. Yes, his home was big, yes he liked to gloat, but he didn’t have it just for gloating rights. He had it for intimidation and he backed it up with how many staff he had, many of which were trained in fighting—even Mi-ja.
“So what brings you here from your wintry hills? Though it is a pleasure, I doubt you’re here just for small talk,” he said with a nod. Suddenly he was at absolute attention.
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Post by Russia - Ivan Braginsky on Mar 22, 2015 10:31:43 GMT -5
His eyes widened largely as something clung to him like a parasite. Very few people took the first initiative to touch Ivan. Ukraine would occasionally brush back his hair or touch his forehead in a motherly way. Belarus would dig her nails into his arm and never release. China would take his hand or caress his cheek. If he was truly lucky, occasionally China would initiate a kiss, but the amount of people who would take such action could certainly be counted on one hand. Unfortunately for Ivan, North Korea was on that list.
His smile became a bit wary as he patted the smaller man on the back, uncertain what to do with this action. The man’s legs squeezed a bit uncomfortably on his waist. He did not know whether he should hold him up or push him off. Ivan had never been good with children, human or nation children, which is often how North Korea appeared to him. Children often became scared in his presence and would run to their mothers, leaving Ivan to apologize and say he only hoped to share a sunflower he picked with the child. North Korea had been different. The boy had never been afraid, and if anything he seemed intrigued by the lessons Ivan had to offer. He had appreciated it, and even thought for a brief moment he could be a mother himself. They did call him Mother Russia.
“Ah, North, I forget how attached you can be,” he said sweetly, trying to find a way to remove the man from his figure without hurting his feelings. “It is good to see you.” Thankfully, the hug did not last much longer, and his flustered form had time to readjust. Touching, at times, was outside Russia’s comfort zone. He watched the boy snap orders to his large staff as Ivan followed him in. Ivan’s own home was quite large, only to fit all the nations he planned to have in his home, but North Korea…Ivan did not understand what he needed with so much space. He knew better than to ask.
He smiled down at the man at his question and patted him on the back. “I only wish to congratulate a fellow ally on their recent accomplishment,” he said sweetly. If he hoped to reign in the boy, he had to praise him.
He took after his brother, China, in some sense. He could be quite stubborn if you demanded something of him first. No, you had to hint at it and make the man believe it was his own idea in the first place. "We should be celebrating, indeed," he commented.
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Post by Deleted on Mar 23, 2015 20:26:00 GMT -5
Yong-Sun’s head tilted and he regarded Russia with a bright and proud smile. “My accomplishment? What—oh! You mean the nuclear warhead?” He chuckled and clapped his hands. “I’ve always had them, but yes…I did just do my first successful test. Had stupid America quaking.” His eyes seemed to glow, but despite his outward appearance of preening, he was twitching inside. He knew what Russia was up to. He wasn’t foolish and he wasn’t a child. He’d had his innocence purged from him long ago against his wishes. That was before he became Russia’s ward and if Russia thought he was still that kid he was mistaken. Sorely so. But he wasn’t that annoyed. Okay so he was. So he wanted to glare at the older nation and tell him that his false little praise was so obvious it was disgusting. So what?
He didn’t glare. He didn’t even speak in anger. He just turned to Russia and waved his hand. “My friend, you don’t need to mince words with me. I know what’s really going through your mind,” he wiggled his finger in mock disappointment, “tsk, tsk. I’ve been around you long enough to know when you’re just saying things to try and sweeten me. You’ve no need for that.”
Yong-Sun grinned innocently. Seriously he wasn’t a young nation anymore. This was getting old. He did take after China even if it was his Poppa who had given the nation to him and his brother after he disappeared. He wasn’t that child anymore. He wanted to be seen as who he was. He was a man now, capable of his own decisions.
He was just eccentric. Sometimes. Most of the time.
So he could be a little over the top?
“But you are right. We should be celebrating,” he held the door to his private study open for the other nation, “after all you have visited!”
He bounced to first of two arm chairs that sat near the fire. “But really you can just tell me what concerns you so. No use in pretending, Russia,” he sing-songed.
The vodka would be here soon and really, North Korea wasn’t mad. Just slightly more than a little annoyed.
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Post by Russia - Ivan Braginsky on Mar 24, 2015 19:51:37 GMT -5
Ivan thought briefly of Lithuania, Estonia, and Latvia. They had not turned out like North Korea. Their bodies shook far too often, but they held a politeness that Ivan appreciated. His lessons had worked for the Baltic, how did it not properly instill into the man before him? It could only assume China had been the cause. China’s siblings were all quite…strange. The man had many years of experience, yet raising nations did not seem to be his expertise. They either rebelled like Japan or had lost their sanity like North Korea. Ivan preferred this conclusion. China was certainly at fault for this, not Ivan. Yet as always, Ivan had to clean up the messes of others.
He smiled sweetly at the man’s excitement over his weapon. He doubted America was “quaking”. If anything, he suspected the brat was annoyed and possibly tempted to wipe North Korea off the planet itself. The only thing that kept North Korea safe was Russia. For America knew that if he attacked North Korea, Russia would attack him, and Ivan had a much larger stockpile of weapons than North Korea. He only wished the nation before him would learn to appreciate his help and possibly listen and not act carelessly like he suspected he might.
It seemed, however, North Korea had figured out his true intentions. He supposed it did not come as a surprise. The boy had moments of spectacular intelligence. It was unfortunate that his intelligence was cloudy by his lack of judgment. He did not respond immediately to the accusation. He merely kept his closed eye smile as the man mentioned celebrating once more. He suspected this was what ADD must be like.
He followed the man into his study and took a seat in one of the overly extravagant chairs. He crossed his leg over the other and folded his hands over the top of his knee. The fire roared largely, and he enjoyed the warmth. He always liked fire. It could be so soothing at times. He hoped it had the same effect on the boy in front of him, for he had no patience for dealing with a tantrum today.
“I will be flat than,” he stated, still smiling, “I am quite proud of you. I merely hope you already know only to use such weapons for defensive purposes and not offensive.”
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Post by Deleted on Mar 24, 2015 21:21:57 GMT -5
Yong-Sun wasn’t attempting to give off the air that he was flighty. In fact it was tick not caused by any mental instability, but rather to soothe the older nation. He didn’t want Russia angry with him or disappointed, but like many of his siblings it was true he was proud. He may not have outwardly quaked and he may have been inwardly more than a little annoyed that Russia felt that he couldn’t just come and speak plainly to him from the beginning, but he really did look up to the nation. He was also afraid of him. Not that fear commanded him; weapons did not always win a war after all. If Russia ever was a threat to him, which Yong-Sun never wanted to see he’d not back down from a fight. But he truly loved Russia and respected him. It had been Russia who’d saved him after all the damage Japan’s soldiers had done to him. It was not China who had caused North Korea’s loss of sanity. It had been Japan’s warriors.
For just a moment, Russia’s reminder caused Yong-Sun to look away. His shoulders slumped and he frowned. “If that’s why you are here, you could easily told me this over the phone,” he said softly. It wasn’t that the nation was surprised by this, of course Russia would be concerned of his intentions. North Korea, so many thought he was a rash man. He could be. He could be, but not here and not now. So much was riding on this war and he did not want to cause Russia trouble. He really didn’t.
He was saddened. He’d thought Russia had come to actually visit, not scold him in the loving way he usually did. Yong-Sun slowly started to undo the braid his hair was fashioned in. He combed his fingers through it time and time as the bonds loosened. “You’re no fun,” he tried to say lightly, but failed. He sighed and with a breath glanced at Russia.
Of course America wasn’t really quaking. Sure he was probably a little scared about North Korea and what he’d do with the weapon. He was afraid he’d be the target especially with their back and forth of threats which had been going on before the war came. He thought the same of Korea as Yong-Sun was beginning to be afraid that Russia thought of him. That he was a slave to his every whim. He did have self-control.
“I wanted to make more to help,” he finally said. “To help you and Yao and our comrades. To protect us all. I wouldn’t use them unless I really had to. You should know that…” He tried to stop fidgeting and pestering his hair. “My military…it’s large for a reason.” He finally managed a soft little smile, this one less fake and more genuine.
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Post by Russia - Ivan Braginsky on Mar 26, 2015 19:43:46 GMT -5
Ivan hadn’t meant to be cruel or suggest disappointment. In quite honesty, Ivan had become quite proud of the little nation before him. He had faced difficulties many would never see, and managed to take control of his country and led it a direction he thought better. North Korea had blocked himself entirely from the West, an accomplishment even Russia could not do. Western culture had managed to weed itself into almost every country in the world. China, while proud and stubborn, had fallen to the culture, even though he had yet to admit the fact. The disgusting unhealthy burger joint called McDonalds before the war had locations in both China and Russia. They had been powerless to stop it, as America grew and grew and grew, infecting all of them with his needs and wants. North Korea stayed strong even through his difficulties. He held great respect for him in that aspect.
As he saw the boy’s form and tone sadden, Ivan blinked a bit in confusion. He must have said the wrong thing again. It happened on occasion, especially with the Baltics. He always felt a strange weight feeling some would call guilt when Latvia, Estonia, and Lithuania would turn to tears. He never meant to make them upset, nor did he wish to upset North Korea.
North Korea’s slumped form pulled at Ivan’s unmoving heart. It reminded him when he had first taken the boy into his home and helped trained him in reclaiming his brother. He was full of so much spirit, yet would quickly apologize at any mistake. His smile softened. “I am not upset with you,” he said almost fatherly, “Come…sit on my lap.” He patted his knee. It was the same thing he would do when he caught North Korea sobbing over his brother.
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Post by Deleted on Mar 30, 2015 15:27:14 GMT -5
Even if Russia had said he wasn’t upset with him that did not make North Korea’s guilt disappear. He stared up at the other country and though his eyes were not rimmed in tears, his expression was miserable and uncertain. “You thought I was going to do something without thinking.” Not that it hadn’t been exciting or the right move, but it was just a bit not smart. Yet Yong-Sun would have done the same thing in Iran’s place and Russia would have helped him, but he’d have not been happy about it. He leaned back, though he’d glanced at Russia’s knee. “You’re not wrong to have thought that, though.” Maybe he would have done as Russia had feared. He had self-control, but even at his best it was an eighty to twenty chance he would listen to his own logic.
Yong-Sun pulled his hair tie and let his hair lay down his back as he took a breath. “I’m no longer small, Russia. I’m no longer a child country and besides, your one knee is hardly big enough now.” It was true that Russia was taller than North Korea, but still he was no longer just the boy who had trained under his direction nor the child who sobbed because of the pain of first being separated from his brother and then later rejected by the one person he’d always been so close to. That had contributed just as much to North Korea’s enforced isolation as much as his belief that the West was a toxin and he did not want to be poisoned with it no matter the consequences; even when he had accepted Western aid it had been with no expectations that Yong-Sun would do anything they wanted. The West couldn’t bear to see his people suffer and North Korea couldn’t bear to fall in any way to the West like many other countries.
Still Russia had nothing wrong. Or if he had been cruel it was easier for the nation to let it go as he stood up and left his hair tie on the table. He came to stand before Russia’s seated form before and tilted his head a moment. He mounted the chair, sliding one leg beside Russia left hip before doing the same to at his right. He boxed Russia in with his arms, leaning in as he sat down on his lap, hips slotted to hips.
Yong-Sun pressed his mouth to Ivan’s ear, “This, however, is a much better position.” His soft purr as well as his smile could be felt as he turned and flicked his tongue against the appendage.
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Post by Russia - Ivan Braginsky on Mar 31, 2015 23:50:07 GMT -5
Seeing his little North Korea in such distress pulled at his heart strings. However, he did not see his thoughts of North’s actions completely unwarranted. Based on his history, he had seen North Korea over react to such little things. He remembered when America had made a comedy about North Korea. He says comedy loosely because from what he saw of the film, it looked like nothing he’d consider comedy unless you have a mental disability and find simpleton jokes like those humorous. Hmm, it fit America well. Nonetheless, North Korea had been in a tantrum over the film and even hacked into an American studio as punishment. It seemed a bit over dramatic to Russia. To think what he might do with a nuclear weapon that had the capability of hitting America.
He smiled softly as the boy agreed in his thought process. Good, he understood. He was not here to scold him. He was here to check up on.
He tilted his head as the boy proclaimed his adulthood. He hardly saw it. To him, he would always be his sweet though slightly insane child in need of his guidance. He would protect the boy with his life as long as he remembered his place. He would always have a place on his knee. He did enjoy watching North act larger than life. It made him smile.
As the boy stood and came closer to his chair, Ivan opened his arms to him, expecting him to slide back into place on his lap. He remembered often holding him and rocking him gently during the Korean War. He tilted his head confused as the boys legs went around his own. His eyes widening as he straddled his waist and pressed into his hips. Ivan’s face turned bright red and his throat felt thick. Eh…this was not what he meant.
His hot breath against his ear and he felt the graze of his tongue. He swallowed thickly. He did not understand why those he considered family turned everything so sexual. It made him very flustered and uncomfortable. His body was stiff, his hands still in the air uncertain what to do with them. “Ah, North Korea,” he started, trying to piece together words to get him out of this situation. It wasn’t that Ivan was a virgin. The very idea was laughable, but other people did not often make the first move, and if they did, they usually scared him to death. “Maybe we should check where the vodka is, da?” he said, hoping to distract the nation with the lack of celebratory liquor.
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Post by Deleted on Apr 2, 2015 22:26:37 GMT -5
North Korea did not consider himself part of Russia’s family. North Korea had looked up to Russia as a teacher and even more so the hero would had saved him from Japan and comforted him as Yong Soo pulled more and more away. He’d eased the hurt that Yong Soo had caused him and that everyone had caused him. He inspired him. How Yong-Sun wanted to be like Ivan and make him proud—at least make him proud. And yet…
Yet Yong-Sun knew Russia’s prowess and he wanted that sort of attention from the other nation. These feelings had taken root over decades. And that he was mature, so too were these feelings. Was it wrong to want to be valued so by Russia? That was the thought that went through North Korea’s head when he felt the nation become motionless against him. He did not feel his arms encasing him and the apprehension in his voice further cleft the heart of Yong-Sun in two. He blinked and swallowed. He would not cry. He absolutely would not cry.
His grew bleary and his face grew hot. He heaved in a breath and tried so hard to stop the pain that gathered in his chest and formed an iron marble in this throat. Then hot tears began to roll down his cheeks. He curled into the only thing could which was the warm body against his, the one that belonged to Russia whose demeanor caused him so much pain. How could it be wrong to want to be one with the nation for just a little while? Was it wrong to want what he knew China had?
“Y-you wouldn’t be acting this way if I were Ch-China,” he gulped down breaths of air. He had to stop talking. He had to stop crying. He was not weak! He didn’t need Russia to approve him in this way! He didn’t! He did—
He clutched into Russia’s coat. “You wouldn’t…” He buried his face into his shoulder. He didn’t care about the vodka anymore. He didn’t care about anything except the knife that was cleaving him in two at Russia’s reaction to him. He had just wanted to show Russia how much he cared for him and how much he wanted Russia to look at him like he did at China. China! He squeezed his hands into the fabric he was clutching. “I’m sorry…I’m sorry I’m not China…But we could pretend.” He choked as he continued to sob and try and regain himself, but the idea had seized him fast. “You could pretend I’m China. You can close your eyes…and imagine I’m China…I’d let you if only you would look at me like you do him.”
For long moments Yong-Sun left those words hanging in the air as he heaved in breath after breath. But he did add to them eventually as he stared at the cushioning on the chair and breathed in Russia’s scent.
“I just want Russia to love me like he does China…I want to be seen as a prize…I want to be a prize in Russia’s eyes.” He whispered and let his eyes fall closed even as briny tears continued to seep from beneath his lids. “I want to have someone who isn’t afraid of me, but everyone is…even Russia…”
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Post by Russia - Ivan Braginsky on Apr 4, 2015 19:12:15 GMT -5
Ivan kept his hands in the air and his eyes darting for an escape. His sister would often put him in similar situations, leaving him trapped and flustered. Ivan bit his bottom lip in nervousness, hoping his ploy might lead to a distraction. North Korea could be distracted by anything silver if you wiggled and waved it enough in front of his face. When the boy would throw his tantrum in his home, Ivan would often pick up a new shiny weapon and show it to him. The tantrum would stop instantly. He wished he had something to distract him with once more. He knew how persistent North Korea could be with things he wanted.
He might not have very much time. His eyes pulled back as he felt North Korea shift, expecting him to attack him with affection. What he saw took him by surprise. Tears streamed down the boy’s face. Why…why was he crying? He did not understand. Ivan had never been good with handle other’s emotions. He remembered the first week Lativa came to his home. The boy cried for an entire week leaving Ivan to pace outside his room in confusion. Did the boy not like the bed? Did he not enjoy the food? Ivan only wished to be a good host, yet strangely every time Ivan entered his room, the boy only cried more. He did not understand tears. His big sister knew what to do in such situations. He suspected because she cried so often and randomly she understood the reasoning behind it.
He felt the grip in his jacket and tilted his chin in his scarf to look at the smaller nation spreading tears into his clothing. He felt a strange pull at his heart as painful words leaked out of the boy in his lap. China? It started to click in his mind. His face flushed, “Oh.” He had a special relationship with China that often turned physical in private moments, but he had known China for his entire life. China held a small piece of his heart. Of course, Ivan meant literally. He had given him a piece of it as a gift some years ago though China had screamed and dropped the box on the ground. He didn’t know what China did with it, but he remembered the man muttering something about fire. He cared for North Korea, but the boy was family, not China.
But he didn’t want to see North upset. It made Ivan sad. He never liked to see his family upset. He only wished for everyone’s happiness. He slowly wrapped his arms around the boy and ran his hand up and down his back. “Don’t cry, little one,” he whispered softly, as he tried to comfort. His words continued to surprise him, and he felt his chest constrict at his proposition. The silence hung long in the air. North Korea did not need to be China. He grown into a handsome young man and held his nation strong against those who might threaten it. He felt proud of him, even if his sanity was in questioned.
His hand slipped between them as he whispered against his chest. He took hold of his chin and tilted his head up, forcing the boy to meet his eyes. He smiled softly. He ran his thumb up his cheek and wiped away his tears. “I am not afraid of you,” he answered. He only was not fond of the display of affection, yet he knew better then to state such words. “You are a prize, Yong-Sun,” he whispered his name as his other hand came up allowing him to cup the boy’s face, “I am very proud of you.” His violet eyes locked to his brown ones. He did not wish for him to cry. He did not wish to hurt him. He cared for this boy, he wanted to protect him, guide him, and give him the best opportunities.
He leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to his forehead. “You do not need to be anyone but yourself. We are family. I will always be here for you,” he said, pulling back to look over his features, hoping the nation’s pain might have lessened.
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Post by Deleted on Apr 4, 2015 20:16:28 GMT -5
Russia was afraid. He’d come here out of fear that North Korea would attempt to launch nuclear warheads on America. Yong-Sun was not stupid! He knew what the other nations said about him. He knew they thought he was insane and that he’d perverted his lessons. Vietnam wanted to send him back to China thinking China would straighten him out, hell they thought his brother would set him right. His brother was even afraid of him! He wanted nothing to do with him and it wasn’t that North Korea hadn’t tried to make amends time and again, even offering to let Yong Soo have his ratty little democracy and keep making America happy. China even thought he was strange and yet they all smiled at him. Masks! All of them wore masks! No one loved him for himself! No one wanted to help him! Couldn’t they see it? How broken he was? How desperately he needed someone to understand and love him without fear? A child, Yong-Sun wasn’t anymore. He was no longer drawn easily from his goals—at least he wouldn’t be this time. Russia thought it would be easy? This showed how much he underestimated his determination, his stamina, he want. You didn’t distract a starving man from a feast and North Korea was hungry. Hungry for truth instead of the lies he heard! Lies! It was all lies! Russia was afraid of him! Afraid of his affection, his sanity, afraid of what he’d crafted North Korea into. He may not have caused the nation to be this way, but he’d not helped. No one had. South Korea had gotten all the help. He’d been through the same horrors and yet North Korea envied him. How was he faring so well?! No comfort would be found here, not to soothe the deep-seated and gnawing ache in the heart and soul of the nation seated in Russia’s lap. North Korea had known Russia for the majority of his life and he’d given Russia everything, he’d tear his heart from chest for him if he thought for just a moment that Russia would love him as he yearned. North Korea had once viewed Russia as a mentor, but he’d grown up and his worship had morphed into something else. So yes, oh! Oh! There was nothing comforting in Russia’s words. Nothing acted as balm against his wound. The tears did not stop, he did not move as Russia embraced him because he knew how he was being embraced and another feeling suddenly sprouted in his chest—a black, cold feeling that began to twist with his sadness. He was not a child and he would not be pacified as such! Tear-rimmed eyes may have stared into Russia’s own as he was forced to meet his face and his brown eyes stared into Russia’s own of violet, but the minute those lips pressed against his forehead and Russia voice’s faded, those eyes bore into Russia’s. Sadness disappeared in an instance and the only thing left was rage. It was cold and sharp and his eyes did not leave Russia’s. He whole body went stiff. He’d always be there for him? He’d always be there for him?! His hand slammed into Russia’s cheek with a force that made the nation’s palm burn, but he didn’t notice it as he began to seethe. “Dangsin-i bil-eo meog-eul nom...bil-eo meog-eul nom! Dangsin-eun nal eolin-ae chwigeubhaji masibsio! Neun jam-eul nolae hal su cheoleom!” Yong-Sun wrapped his fingers around Ivan’s neck and leaned in. “You are never here for me like I need! No one is!” He felt the ire leave him as quick as it came and that’s when he felt the throbbing of his palm and realized what he’d done. His hands fell quickly as if burned. He quivered and then cupped Russia’s cheeks, trying to soothe his reddened one with his fingers. He pressed his lips to Ivan’s softly. No one truly loves me… Dangsin-i bil-eo meog-eul nom...bil-eo meog-eul nom! Dangsin-eun nal eolin-ae chwigeubhaji masibsio! Neun jam-eul nolae hal su cheoleom!” - You fucking bastard...you fucking bastard! Don’t you treat me like a child! Like I can be sang to sleep! |
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Post by Russia - Ivan Braginsky on Apr 5, 2015 21:29:57 GMT -5
Ivan should never be the person tasked to comforting another person in distress. His words always led to a worse objective, and his touch held awkwardness and uncertainty. He did not handle tears and sad faces. He sometime wished he could only force their smiles upwards with his fingers (occasionally he did so, but they always fell back down). He preferred now passing the upset person to one of his sisters. Ukraine’s soft words could sooth any worried soul, and Belarus terrifying look could silence giants. Either way, the tears and sadness stopped. He hoped he could have copied his sisters’ talents, yet based on the glare he felt boring into his face, he had concluded he had not been successful.
He did not have a moment to dodge as the hand connected painfully against his cheek. It was sharp, and forced his head to whip back in the motion. It was pain, but small pain compared to past experiences. He stared at the wall to the side, his bookcase in a daze. His words had somehow foolishly made the boy even more upset. Did he not communicate his point across? He thought he had been very accepting of North Korea’s feelings. He even hugged and done the soft back pat. Was there more to this? Ukraine only did such with him. Emotions were difficult creatures to nurture around. Even Ivan had fallen victim to them before. He remembered towards the end of the Soviet Union, he had broken down into tears on a few occasions. They had been alcohol induced, but nonetheless, many evenings he found himself outside Ukraine’s door, tears slipping down his cheeks, asking her, pleading her to not let his friends leave, begging for them to like him. Why didn’t they like him? Why did everyone leave him alone in the long run? Oh so alone. However, when he walked to her door one night...Ukraine was no longer there. He stopped crying.
He swallowed thickly at the memory as harsh words woke him from it. He did not know Korean, but based on the tone, he knew it was not kind. A tight grip came across his throat, and he allowed it, allowed him to scream at him. He did not understand North Korea. His words made little sense. He had been the one to save him from Japan. He had guided him and told him all of his lessons. He cared for him when he called. What more did he….
He kissed him.
…want?
Ivan body tensed in the kiss. His face still stung from the slap. Hmm. Ivan knew Yong-Sun cared for him, but the way he kept insisting was quite false. He knew Yong-Sun did not see him as the lover he thought. He had created this false ideal of what he suspected Ivan to be in his life. Ivan had felt many different types of kisses, from passionate hate to dominating love, but the one he felt from Yong-Sun did not fall in the category of lover.
He frowned and his eyes narrowed. The boy wanted Ivan in such a way? Fine, he would teach him why this thought was incorrect. He grabbed the boy’s jaw and yanked his mouth away. “You want me to fuck you?” he said darkly, “I am a bad mentor if I don’t?”
He pushed the boy roughly off of his lap watching him collapse onto the floor. He became more comfortable in his seat as he felt control back in his hand. His chin leaned in the palm of his own hand. The guilt from his sadness had left, and in its place, he felt the need to teach the boy a lesson. To correct him of this delusion. “I think you have forgotten who I am, North Korea,” he stated coldly, “You do not make demands, wants, or needs from me. You accept what I give you, and you are grateful for it. Do you understand?”
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Deleted
(Deleted User)
I was deleted!
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Post by Deleted on Apr 6, 2015 22:40:00 GMT -5
Pain: Russia had yanked his chin up and brown met violet. Yong-Sun's mouth was still parted from his attempt at kissing the other nation. As his jaw was pinched and forced upwards, hope fluttered in his chest; bird's wings hammering against his ribs. Yet it disappeared in an instant when he saw Russia's expression. Of course Russia was angry. North Korea deserved that emotion directed at him. He lost his temper to anguish and North Korea was fast trigger, but he done wrong. That's why his kiss had been as it was: gentle. He wanted to apologize while further pressing that he wanted so much more from Russia and saw him in the light of adult love and lust. Wrong move? So it seemed because the way he insisted he felt for Ivan was not false, and if he'd known Ivan believed it was it would have further shaken him. He did see Ivan as a lover. He longed to kiss him with hate and love: desperate, passionate, and dominating in a way that left no query to how he felt, but first he had to apologize for his rash actions. It hadn't been enough, but he would not have Ivan doubt he was genuine! Still his apology hadn't been enough. That was no surprise, but did Russia have to say what he did? Were such cruel words necessary? Now his mouth was gaping for a different reason. He tried to protest, but before he could he was pushed off Russia with considerable force—again not a surprise. Horror flashed over his face as he landed on his back and his lips opened and closed. He stared up at his ornate ceiling and went numb. Yes, he wanted to be fucked if one had to be crude, but not just that. That denoted passing fancy and Yong-Sun did not feel fickle. He loved Russia. He'd rescued him from Japan, comforted him when he woke from nightmares or mourned Yong Soo; Russia had taught him and North Korea respected him more than any others—probably the most. Definitely the most. "I don't," North Korea finally said softly. "No, I don't understand. Я люблю тебя, Иван. And you think...You think I'm blind?" He couldn't help but to speak in Ivan's tongue. He pulled himself into a sitting position, and then as if rethinking the action, stood up completely. "I am young. My years may not be yours for China's, but I am not a child anymore. You cannot pacify me like one even if I wish it were so easy too." He bowed his head, "Lullabies no longer work."And yet he wished they did. He wished he could tear out the feelings he held for Ivan and roast them. North Korea scratch them out of his heart like the invasive itch they were and serve them to him on his finest silver and be done with them. But he couldn't. And so they plagued him until he broke beneath them. Yong-Sun clenched his hands at his side and his knuckles balled until they were white. "So tell me how do I convince you that I don't want to just play? Tell me how to convince you that I'm very aware of who you are? That my feelings are true? Because they are! What I feel is real! This isn't a game to me."Once again North Korea came to him in the chair and slid a leg between Russia's thighs. He leaned in and lifted his hands. His thumbs pressed beneath the nation's jaw and he set him with his stare. No mirth remained in his eyes anymore. If Russia wanted serious, he'd give it to him. He'd give him anything. It was true he had no right to want or need anything from him, but that did not stop him. That did not halt his feelings. "Should I steal your breath? Devour your mouth like a starving man? Would that convince you? Or maybe I should drink of you like a man in the desert who has discovered an oasis. Maybe that will convince you. Because that is how I feel. That is what I want to do every time I look upon you."Yong-Sun smirked and caressed his jawline. He ran his nose along it. "Sorry I was gentle then," he whispered against his ear. "Sorry I let my fear of you tame me into being anyone but who I am; into not being who you adore." He turned Russia's face to him and slid his thumb over his bottom lip. His eyes fell to half mast as he drew him closer. "Я когда-нибудь говорил вам , как красиво я нахожу зимой? So cruel, and cold, and yet intoxicating in its power and anger. How it fills my veins with fire." How this nation did the same. Fingers twisted in Russia's scarf. He would not let his mouth get away this time. He captured those warm, chapped lips with his. He kissed him with abandon with a fire that was untamed, unrelenting, and unashamed. Yong-Sun's name did mean "dragon in the first position" and he summoned that power as he tugged on Russia's bottom lip with his teeth. Above him, Russia was and he respected him. Yong-Sun forever wanted to please Russia, but Russia could not mistake that in meaning he would hide his feelings from him no matter their nature. He was not sorry for indeed wanting Russia to fuck him, but he wished for so much more from him. He would not regret and his feelings for the older were not trifles he could even imagine just throwing away. Translations:
Я люблю тебя , Иван. - I love you, Ivan.
Я когда-нибудь говорил вам , как красиво я нахожу зимой? - Have I ever told you how beautiful I find winter? |
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Post by Russia - Ivan Braginsky on Apr 7, 2015 20:20:26 GMT -5
His violet eyes stayed narrowed as he placed his judgment on the younger nation. His chin still situated in the palm of his hand as his lips formed an evident frown. North Korea could always test his patience as one of his most difficult wards. He was the type of child to constantly keep poking their parent even if they were working until the parent would snap. Ivan had definitely felt his cord snap.
He watched with calculated eyes, silently considering locking the boy in a dark closet as he had done in occasion when he was younger. He also considered grabbing the collar of his shirt and yanking him over his lap and giving him a proper spanking. His magic metal pipe was never far from his reach…
The boy words in his tongue pulled his attention. Love. Ivan rarely allowed such a treasure word to leave his lips. Betrayal happened far too often between nations, especially between those with long history. The first person he had such words too besides his sisters was Lithuania. He was so small and hopeful, pulling at the man’s sleeve asking him to join him and be his friend. Shortly thereafter, Poland and Lithuania invaded him and took his land. Love…it could be such a silly concept. He knew it existed, but he knew how it could be easily misconstrued in one’s mind, especially someone younger.
He stayed silent as the boy stood and claimed himself an adult once more. He could not see what Ivan saw, what Ivan saw in many young nations. He saw a boy wearing clothes to big. His questions continued, his demand, his persistence. He sat straighter and crossed his arms over his chest. The questions continued, and the man moved closer to him. He had no doubt that North Korea believed he felt such feelings. It merely was an incorrect belief. His frown deepened as his hand touched his jaw and their eyes locked. The boy possessed a talent of words, similar to China, it was almost poetic. He would have appreciated them far more if it were not directed in his direction. How do you tell someone no when they seem to have no understanding of the meaning? His touching became more confident as he leaned down towards him. He felt his hot breath on his skin, and without his permission he felt an uncomfortable heat building in his body.
As more Russian spilled from his lips, he could feel the anger edge away. He was happy North had taken the time to learn his language, but there was little time to enjoy it. A tight grip came on his scarf that automatically made his heart jump. He did not like people near his neck. Before he could shoo his hands off of him, his mouth was forced once again against his. His eyes widened as he felt his mouth forced opened by the dominating intensity of the kiss. His gloved fingers twitched at his sides, a low fire burning in his chest, wanting more, while his mind screamed at him to stop it. He did not believe North Korea truly loved him, but that did not mean Ivan did not have needs of his own. Needs that did not necessarily involve love.
No matter the case, Ivan was not going to allow the boy to control the situation. He reached out and grabbed his shoulders roughly, his grip tight, forcing the boy’s mouth away. His face appeared cold still, even if his body felt uncomfortably hot. “You speak such well Russian, yet you do not understand the word, Nyet,” he stated. His violet eyes held a different type of darkness, like a man taking in a lean piece of meat. They ran down and back up the young boy’s body. He’d aged into an attractive man, even if youth still traced his features. He finally let go of his shoulders and grabbed his chin, a bit too tight for comfort. “I do not doubt you believe these feelings, but before you even consider continuing, you must know, I do not feel the same, nor will I,” his words were flat and honest, “I will always protect you and care for you, but the feelings you assume you have, I will never have those.”
He finally smiled softly and giggled, his voice returning a bit lighter, “You see, my heart has not beat for over two centuries.”
He dropped his chin, his hand going back to his shoulder. He placed a large amount of pressure on his shoulder, forcing the boy to get his knees between his legs. “However, if you are so keen to prove yourself, I won’t stop you,” his lip tilted into a smirk. It was quite obvious what Ivan was suggesting. The boy had brought it on himself as far as he was concern.
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do not forget me
About thirty years ago, Israel's boss was assasinated. By who, well, no one knows, but Israel immediately blamed Iran. Of course, that alone wouldn't have started World War III, even though Israel and Iran's various allies declared war in quick succession.
Nah, the nuclear bomb in the middle of Jerusalem probably did it.
Now? Now the rest is history. The world's been at war for thirty years, thirty years of bloodshed and pain. No one else has reached for the nuclear option quite yet, but no one's happy. So if we all die- well, do not forget me, okay?
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Do Not Forget Me was created by Waffles and Jonathan and amazing layout and coding is thanks to SO-4 . Content is copyrighted to Do Not Forget Me unless otherwise stated. The skin is created by Wolf of Gangnam Style. The board and thread remodel is by Kagney The mini-profile remodel is by Trinity Blair of Adoxography. Thanks!
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