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Literature Text
A hollow "clonk", when he's leaning his rifle against the nightstand.
Soles scrape on the floor when he gets on his feets.
„I don't know. I haven't seen him in weeks."
I don't like it, when he's stooping over my bed like that.
I'm so scared.
It's over.
Whatever may come after this.
It's over.
Perhaps...I'm also bit happy.
I'm still alive.
„J'aurai pu te tuer, andouille!"*
He mumbles to himself reaching for his handkerchief and wiping my tears away.
Secretly I'm leaning a little bit more in these hands.
I close my eyes and nod slightly, so that he knows that I understood what he said. I was never really good in speaking this language, but I can understand it a bit.
Him speaking about human rights, about civil liberties about fighting for freedom...it's one of the first thing in my life, that remember.
Liberté,Égalité, Fraternité.
He was so tall back then.
Strong and big and scary in the way he made his people believe in him.
So scary.
And familiar, like an relative coming over to your house from time to time to tell you how ugly your interior is.
"Que-ce que je fait? C'est mon ennemi..." he mutters and sits down again folding the piece of silken piece of cloth neatly before putting it back in his pocket.
„Be happy, that I've got such a soft heart."
I like it when he's talking my language. I always did. The syllables are dancing like a melody through the room. I makes me notice how beautiful it can sound.
He looks into my eyes and it is almost unbearable to not avoid eye contact.
I nod again, not able to speak because if the big lumb in my throat.
Silence again.
I try to shift my body and shudder under the enourmous pain in my leg.
I can feel my leg again.
„Why didn't you kill me?" A whisper, I hope he's even able to understand me.
„I don't know."
The morning light, dimmed by the brown fabric of the tent, is playing with the dirty strands of his hair.
It is sticky around a big laceration right above his forehead.
„I hate you so much."
A nod again.
I'm looking in my blanket.
It's true. he always disliked.
Even before I did anything. Just because of my existence.
it was always like this.
I did give him millions of reasons to hate me, to make his detest even bigger.
„I don't know why I didn't kill you."
He is reaching out touching my hair I don't dare to look in his face.
Ihere are no tears anymore, that I could cry.
„But...
I don't want you to die.
I want you to see the pain you caused.
I want you to live with all this blood on your hands."
Soles scrape on the floor when he gets on his feets.
„I don't know. I haven't seen him in weeks."
I don't like it, when he's stooping over my bed like that.
I'm so scared.
It's over.
Whatever may come after this.
It's over.
Perhaps...I'm also bit happy.
I'm still alive.
„J'aurai pu te tuer, andouille!"*
He mumbles to himself reaching for his handkerchief and wiping my tears away.
Secretly I'm leaning a little bit more in these hands.
I close my eyes and nod slightly, so that he knows that I understood what he said. I was never really good in speaking this language, but I can understand it a bit.
Him speaking about human rights, about civil liberties about fighting for freedom...it's one of the first thing in my life, that remember.
Liberté,Égalité, Fraternité.
He was so tall back then.
Strong and big and scary in the way he made his people believe in him.
So scary.
And familiar, like an relative coming over to your house from time to time to tell you how ugly your interior is.
"Que-ce que je fait? C'est mon ennemi..." he mutters and sits down again folding the piece of silken piece of cloth neatly before putting it back in his pocket.
„Be happy, that I've got such a soft heart."
I like it when he's talking my language. I always did. The syllables are dancing like a melody through the room. I makes me notice how beautiful it can sound.
He looks into my eyes and it is almost unbearable to not avoid eye contact.
I nod again, not able to speak because if the big lumb in my throat.
Silence again.
I try to shift my body and shudder under the enourmous pain in my leg.
I can feel my leg again.
„Why didn't you kill me?" A whisper, I hope he's even able to understand me.
„I don't know."
The morning light, dimmed by the brown fabric of the tent, is playing with the dirty strands of his hair.
It is sticky around a big laceration right above his forehead.
„I hate you so much."
A nod again.
I'm looking in my blanket.
It's true. he always disliked.
Even before I did anything. Just because of my existence.
it was always like this.
I did give him millions of reasons to hate me, to make his detest even bigger.
„I don't know why I didn't kill you."
He is reaching out touching my hair I don't dare to look in his face.
Ihere are no tears anymore, that I could cry.
„But...
I don't want you to die.
I want you to see the pain you caused.
I want you to live with all this blood on your hands."
Literature
Dying for me (Germany x Prussia)Not Yaoi!!!
Slowly his body weakens and nothing I say or do can stop the death that was soon to consume his once powerful body. I try hard not to let tears slip through my eyes they can’t do anything to stop the process of his country that was going to be gone in a matter of days hopefully months or years, but they fall anyways at least not in front of him.
“West,” His voice was soft barely audible and he couldn’t even turn his head to face me as he spoke but on his pale face laid a smile, “Don’t *cough* worry about me…..” He stopped for a second and tried harder to turn his head towards me.
Instead I st
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GermanyxReader - Safe Haven (Chap. 2)
“What are you doing?” said Ludwig as I walked back to the two couches with a thick, leather-bound book.
“Initiation,” I replied matter-of-factly. I motioned for him to stand up, which he did, and I held out the book in front of me. “Put your hand on the book.”
Ludwig looked down at the book for a moment, then commented, “What ‘initiation’ are you making me do?”
I raised an eyebrow briefly. “Just do it.”
With a slight shrug, he placed his left hand flat on the book and raised his right hand at a ninety-degree angle.
“Repeat after me,” I said. “
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GermanyxReader - Pen Pals - Part 7
You woke up next to Ludwig from yet another love-making night. You both were in deep love, and you never wanted to leave him. You went to Greece for your Honey Moon; one of the most romantic locations on earth. Too bad it was your last day there. You held him close to you, feeling his warm, soft skin against yours. The sun rays shined through the big, clear windows on the both of you. You snuggled in his arms.
"Good morning, ___." He barely whispered in your ear, tickling your neck. He gave you tiny kisses around your neck and jaw line.
"Good morning Ludwig. Did I wake you?" You turned your head to face him. He looked so beautiful, so han
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„J'aurai pu te tuer, andouille!"- "I could have killed you you, idiot." (andouille can also be some kind of sausage, so I thought it was fitting.^^")
"Que-ce que je fait? C'est mon ennemi..."- what am I doing? This is my enemy..."
________________________________
So, since some people asked me about a second part, I tried writing one.
I hope you like it.
If there are mistakes in the french sentences, please tell, my French is a bit rusty after not using it for years and I don't have any grammar book in reach right now. ^^"
In my interpretation in a situation, in which Germany isn't able to protect him and he even would have to protect Germany against others, while being in constant danger of being attacked my England, Italy would run away.
Not because he's evil or anything, but he would be too scared to stay.
And France isn't the big brother of Europe for nothing.
he may be an idiot form time to time but he is an awesome idiot.
chapter 1: [link]
chapter 3: [link]
"Que-ce que je fait? C'est mon ennemi..."- what am I doing? This is my enemy..."
________________________________
So, since some people asked me about a second part, I tried writing one.
I hope you like it.
If there are mistakes in the french sentences, please tell, my French is a bit rusty after not using it for years and I don't have any grammar book in reach right now. ^^"
In my interpretation in a situation, in which Germany isn't able to protect him and he even would have to protect Germany against others, while being in constant danger of being attacked my England, Italy would run away.
Not because he's evil or anything, but he would be too scared to stay.
And France isn't the big brother of Europe for nothing.
he may be an idiot form time to time but he is an awesome idiot.
chapter 1: [link]
chapter 3: [link]
© 2012 - 2024 MathildasDoubel
Comments9
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I LOVE this story so far! And France is actually being brave, I like that part. <3 XD