WARNINGS- VIOLENCE, MILD GORE, TORTURE, SNAPPED!PRUSSIA, AND SEXUAL THEMES
Disclaimer: I own nothing of Hetalia besides this story.
Forever an Axis
Part 2 - Sear
He should've known.
He should've known it was all too good to be true. To think the one he loved actually returned the favor. Ha! Of course it was his brother, the other was imagining. Feliciano didn't see him, he saw Ludwig. He truly cared nothing for him. It was all so unfair.
Gilbert twitched, standing perfectly still for a moment before he slipped his hand out from the others pants. He took his mouth from the others chest with a string of saliva connected from his lips. He stood up straight as he stared down at him, red eyes once hazed with lust now seeming to burn with fury.
Feliciano shook with fear as he matched gaze with his tormentor. He only had a moment to think and he doubted he could save himself. "Ve...L-love it! I said 'I love it'! Umm... Ich liebe...Dich?" He was so unsure of his German at this point. "...Ficken mir! Bitte, Ficken mir, ...Umm...Herr!"
Prussia stared down at the Italian, brows furrowing; he knew the other was struggling to keep him happy. He didn't want him to fuck him... he was wanted his brother. Maybe it was so obvious; it as well ought to have been written on his forehead. He clenched his hands at his sides before gritting his teeth, pulling his hand back and smacking Italy with the back of his hand, a loud clap resounding from leather on skin.
"...You never really cared about me, did you? All you ever wanted was West. Even right now I bet you're imagining him being to one to kiss you and touch you."
The Italian recoiled from the blow, the material of the glove stinging horribly. He gagged, flexing his jaw; it's cracking in place was audible.
He snapped his head back up and shook it furiously. "No! ...N-Nein! I w-want y-y-you, Pru-prus-ssia!"
"Then why are you stuttering so much?" He growled, setting his hands on the table from both sides of Italy's head. He was able to see the blow of his slap form a red spot on the others cheek. "Because you are lying..."
Feliciano cringed when the German's hands slammed in the table, the sound right in his "N-nein! I'm n-not! I sw-swear!"
His hand reached back, only to shoot forward, taking hold of the other's head. He slammed it back into the table, so hard it left a dent in the table. The Italian screamed, but it was cut short by the blow. He just gagged for a breath.
"Don't fucking lie to me!"
Gilbert stared him down for a few moments, though his look of rage melted to something much more broken. A stray tear slowly rolled down his cheek, but he was quick to wipe it with his sleeve. He stepped back up and began to button up the others shirt and jacket. But as he moved the jacket, something slipped out of his pocket, making a sharp clatter on the table.
"...Mm?" he hummed curiously, sniffing lightly as he picked up the item. An iron cross, one similar to the one that he and his brother always wore. "...Well, well, what have we here?"
Feliciano kept his gaze averted from the other. "It is the cross I was given when we made the alliance. My boss wanted me to throw it away when I ...defected to the Allies, but I just ...couldn't..."
Gilbert gripped onto the cross, remembering the day when Ludwig told him about the day that their pact was made and this was given to him. He felt a weird sensation of nostalgia and resentment at the pendant.
"Mm, then you have no use for it anymore." he said, sliding it into his pocket. He stepped over to the way upstairs, calling up, "Japan! Private show's done down here, you can come back with that water!"
On cue, Japan entered the room with a small pot of water. His face was stoic, albeit a light pink dusting over his cheeks. The German had to wonder how exactly he knew what previously happened.
"No, please! Luddy gave me that! ...it's all I have left..."
"Hmm? What is he talking about, Prussia-kun?"
"Ah, just revoked his status as an Axis," He stated, pulling the iron cross from his pocket to show his ally before putting it back in his chest pocket.
He looked down to the pot of cold water before he nudged it close. "Mm, this should help."
He dunked his head into it, keeping there for a moment before flipping his head out, shaking his head from the excess water – careful not to wet Kiku –before he slicked his hair back. "Hoo! Much better!" he exclaimed, the cold water shocking his senses away from the lusty, murky feelings he was having only a few minutes before.
"Well, what do we do about it?"
"What do ya mean?"
"In my country, bearing the sign of another clan is one of the worst insults you can pull…"
"...Hmm. Really?" the German mused, looking to the Asian before he pulled out the iron cross again.
He grinned wickedly as he went to the fireplace in his basement, gathering wood and paper into it and easily flicking a match, setting it ablaze. "Go get Italy situated; if he still thinks he's an Axis by keeping this, let's make it so he is forever an Axis."
Kiku gave a smirk. "Shall I nail him, or do you want the honor?"
Feliciano began thrashing about once the German lit the fire. "W-what are you doing?"
"Mm, I want to at least do the first one. For now, find a spot where I can put this."
He looked back him, his wicked grin from earlier returning as he set the cross on an iron poker, carefully balancing it do it wouldn't fall off. He carefully let the iron cross into the blaze of fire, turning frequently so it would not melt.
"Hey! An-answer me!"
"Hai," the Asian replied. He withdrew a knife and started cutting around the Italian's clothes. Feliciano struggled, and managed to get a few shallow cuts in the process before he froze. Kiku cut until he had bare arms. "I refuse to take off anymore. How about the arm?"
"Arm sounds good; I'll put it on his right wrist. After all that is part of his hand and that is what I promised we would only hurt."
Gilbert turned the iron cross enough before he pulled it back, the iron rims glowing a bright orange. "Beautiful," he muttered before carefully making his way over. "Pull back the sleeve on his wrist, this shouldn't take long."
"No! No! No!" Italy cried.
He thrashed so hard his wrist started to bleed.
"He's moving too much." The Asian complained as he held the other still.
"Grab his curl. It shuts him up." The German stated, his eyes narrowing as he knew he was now using the delicate thing as practically a weapon against him. "Though, let's put it in the palm of his hand, his hands are being destroyed anyway."
Besides, it will hurt more, he though them himself situating the cross so he can press it down when ready.
Giving a nod, Kiku tugged on the stray piece of hair. Feliciano froze, back arching, and gave a short moan. "Do it now."
Gilbert grinned as he opened up the other's palm before stamping the cross into his palm. He inhaled deeply, smelling the familiar scent of burning flesh come soon enough as he could almost hear his skin sizzle from the hot iron pressed against it. This wasn't an aroma he thought he'd enjoy as a child, but after years of it he has grown to love it.
Feliciano let out a horrible, blood-curdling scream when the metal was stamped onto his palm. The pain was agonizing. Ever since he was a little kid, he has hated burns; they had always been tiny things. This was on a whole other level. Tears poored down his cheeks as it continued to sizzle on his skin.
The German started to laugh at the thought this deed has actually be done. No longer could this man salute – even after his skin had been completely renewed from all of this torture – without being reminded of this day, this moment, and Ludwig's gift. Especially along with how he didn't deserve it.
The Italian threw his head back in recoil, slamming into tabletop to distract him from the sear on his hand, and he was met with a horrible pain he had not planned. Another that made him wail.
Kiku gasped. "P-Prussia-san...?"
"What?" Prussia stated, looking over to the Asian, curious of why he would gasp.
Though when he saw it, even he double too at seeing the familiar strand clutched in his ally's hand and detached from the other's head.
Giving the cross one more hard press, he took it off and set it on the pot of water Kiku had set aside, immediately sizzling as it met with the cold.
Italy breathed a sigh of relief when the cross was taken away. Although, his skin still sizzled and he could feel it blistering. Water. He needed cold water.
"Schiesse, didn't expect that one." He noted, going over to look over the strand before he picked up Italy's head rather gently, searching through his hair to see if the spot was bleeding. Usually if a normal piece of hair was plucked, not much would happen, but this wasn't exactly a normal piece of hair.
"I-I didn't mean to do it."
Gilbert stared down at him as he asked for water, frowning lightly as the other asked for water with a German plea at the end. Pity began to well in the pit of his stomach. As much as he wanted to ignore it... he just couldn't.
"It is only far, we did change more than your hands." He said, removing the poker and lifting it up.
He was about to ask where, but he had a good idea where the other wanted it. Carefully, he poured a portion on his burning hand, able to see the burn more clearly on his palm.
Oh, what a beautiful red mark.
Feliciano winced when the water was poured onto his heated flesh. Even though it was somewhat warm, the sensation was magical, nearly taking the pain away. But, when the stream was ended, it quickly came back.
"A-are ...is it over...?"
"Well, let me strike you a deal. Since we tore out your curl by accident, I'll let you take one more chance on the old deal of switching out hammering your joints for ripping out your fingernails." Gilbert said, letting the other's head down on the table gently, a tad bit of guilt churning in his stomach.
The Italian gave a determined nod. "Do it."
Kiku worked at removing the leather restraints once move, careful not to irritate his inflamed skin. The German helped him to his feet and back over to the board where the contraption was, a few of his fingernails still lying there.
"Same as last time, I'll give you five minutes to do the rest of them. You falter or give up we put you back, and no more intermissions." Gilbert said, slicking his hair back once more to squeeze out some more water from earlier before he brought out his pocket watch. "The time starts when you take out your nail."
Feliciano simply stared at the contraption, not moving an inch, with slumped shoulders. Eventually, his head lazily turned to the side, showing his eyes. Completely gone was the bright, shiny gems and there were dull shadows to what they originally were.
He had given up.
"Hey...Prussia," he said with uncharacteristic monotone. "Can I make a deal with you?"
The German raised an eyebrow, lowering his watch. "A deal you say? I'm listening."
"If I...if I can give you the greatest lay of your life, you let me go..." He continued the stare at his tormentor - well past him, it seemed - with those broken eyes of his, shamelessly.
Instantly Kiku flushed from the sidelines. "Y-you can't be serious!"
he simply shift his gaze slowly to the Asian, facial expression unchanged. It harbored no room for light heartedness.
"...Do we have a deal...?"
Gilbert blinked at this, though he slowly closed his pocket watch as a familiar grin formed on his face. He could tell just from how he looked at them, even without hammering the nails, Feliciano had been successfully broken.
"Mm, what do you think, Japan? Think you can let him do that? I think he'll suffer enough for one day."
Kiku wanted to yell and get angry, but he kept it all from surfacing. "It's not my choice, now is it?" He said as he started to head out the door. "Call me when you're done, but please be decent then."
Once he was upstairs, the Asian punched a wall. Damn it! Damn that Italy for being able to get off easy once again! Damn that Prussia for being such a perverse horn dog! Damn them both!
And as he rested against the wall, Japan came up with an idea. A wonderful idea. An evil idea. Something that neither will expect to happen. He will wait a bit before carrying it out, to ensure they will be caught in the act.
Gilbert waited until he knew that his ally was completely out of earshot before he stepped forward. "So, greatest lay of my life, huh? Well, I'm not a virgin.. and without that curl of those we might not get as good as we were earlier. If it isn't good, I'll call Japan back down here." he stated, raising a hand and gently scratching under his chin, almost like one would to a dog. "What will you do?"
Tears formed in the Italian's eyes, but he refused to let them loose.
Godsilla's two cents: Okay another installment of Forever an Axis. This explains why the story named what it is. He got branded. That is just horrible. Burns in general are horrible. Imagine having one like that - burning metal kept on your flesh for more than a minute. ...Makes me shudder just thinking about it.
As for Italy's curl being ripped from his head, I have a weird headcanon for it. While it would cause him intense pain if pulled out, another one would spring up. Until he is completely bald, that will keep happening. So he has another one.
Reviews, as in actual critiques not one-liners, make my day. Tell me where I went right; tell me where I went wrong. I can take whatever you can dish to me.
This chapter was the shortest, but hopefully it was still good?