~Doppio~
Two shots every time. One tap, two. Mind and body. Souls were up in the air. He wasn’t sure if he possessed one himself. Time had weathered his core and his spirits dry. Hard spirits gave a kick that pushed his head over the edge and spilled out in more ways than one. He quit after enough was enough.
Glass traded for thick porcelain though the shots kept coming. Two shots for every round. One. Two. One. Two. In. Out. Bang.
Hard-wired that he was, his heart was used to the rush. The shots kept coming. Tap. Bang. Another round. Bitter. Black. Blood. It flowed through his veins, piping hot, smoking from the valves. Pump and pre
Romania x Reader ~Big Buts~ by GydroZMaa, literature
Literature
Romania x Reader ~Big Buts~
~Big Buts~
The power of a three-lettered word could be incredible when used in the correct way—and in the wrong way. Every time you present an opinion or listened to another, there was always that one word, that little conjunction that made a big different in the way you perceived others and yourself.
“But.”
But this happened, but that was like so. But, but but. It was a small word with a big impact. It was a big but.
“I like what you’ve done with your hat, bu—”
“And!”
You tried again. “I like what you’ve done with your hat, and I think it would look even more presentable
America x Reader ~Mind and Matter~ by GydroZMaa, literature
Literature
America x Reader ~Mind and Matter~
~Mind and Matter~
It wasn’t easy being Alfred’s voice of reason. With the way his imagination carried him too far, sometimes it was necessary to give him a push in the sensible direction. And sometimes a shove.
That wasn’t to say imagination was a bad thing to have. Not at all, no. How else would the world have evolved into what it was today, you asked yourself? Besides, imagination was the perfect way to fuel Alfred’s hyperactive personality when there was nothing else to do.
But you digressed. When being the voice of reason, there could always be a time when imagination went too far.
Imagination came in the form
Netherlands x Reader ~Mercury~ by GydroZMaa, literature
Literature
Netherlands x Reader ~Mercury~
~Mercury~
Like a cold snake, she slithers her fingers across his goose-pimpled skin and captures her prey in an engulfed swallow. They breathlessly tangle in fiery knots until she melts into him like a silvery liquid against the full moon’s light. She cloaks him, pours over him. He takes her scent in and ingests, the sensual-numbing poison spreading to his mind and embedding itself deep within his very blood and bones. He is hers. She is his.
~Instants~
“Smile!”
Of course, Berwald didn’t really smile. He sat there awkwardly trying to form a positive expression for the camera, but it ended up looking like something out of a bad comedy sketch. Everything down to the lighting, ambience, and food was perfect: Berwald’s clothes were a grunge grayish blue to fit in with the soft beige and marine colors of the tablecloth. It was only his face that ruined the composition—or perhaps it gave the picture the last boost of flavor it needed to add Tino’s bubbly eccentric charm.
Emil, who was normally isolated from the other nations, was starting to catch
Prussia x Reader ~Of Mice and Millet~ by GydroZMaa, literature
Literature
Prussia x Reader ~Of Mice and Millet~
~Of Mice and Millet~
Though he was never a man of the outdoors, good sir Roderich knew enough about mice to tell you of the battles you would face come winter.
“Yes, those vermin may be cute right now, but when the grounds become cold and food becomes scarce, they’re going to move right into the rafters and walls. Just you see. They’ll eat the wood up like cornbread, and when the roof comes caving in, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
How stubbornly Gilbert had refused to believe this, up until the leaves on the trees needed to be raked from the grounds and the ponds froze over with thin sheets of ice. And h
Germany x Reader ~Blotches~ by GydroZMaa, literature
Literature
Germany x Reader ~Blotches~
~Blotches~
Even the finest of strokes wavered off in the most unexpected of trails. It was a step off the path from acquiring perfection. Mistake after mistake. Dark dot, splitter splatter.
He had only asked once why you chose to work with ink. Not one with notable artistic qualities, he could only offer his speculations and criticism from time to time, and that was only when you asked for it. These days, the questions wavered and faded in and out of existence like the conversations you exchanged. Lively walls that once fluttered with voices muted and died along with everything else in this drab living space.
The perfection still haunted y
England x Reader ~Buzz Kill~ by GydroZMaa, literature
Literature
England x Reader ~Buzz Kill~
~Buzz Kill~
Arthur opened the door one muggy evening to find you whimsically teleported to his front door.
“__________________, why are you here? There’s no reason for you to be here. In fact, it’s—” He paused to check the clock. “—twenty-three hours into the night.”
“We’re going to play a game,” you said, holding up your laptop bag. “It’s called Six Nights at Steven’s.”
“What?”
You shrugged. “It’s a fairly new game that came out, and I thought it’d be fun to see your reactions. Anyway, you’re the lore and horror-
Prussia x Reader ~How I'd Go~ by GydroZMaa, literature
Literature
Prussia x Reader ~How I'd Go~
~How I’d Go~
“____________, have you ever given some thought as to how’d you’d die?”
The question came out of nowhere—so much so that you choked on your water and violently coughed. It took a good minute to clear up your windpipe, and all the while, Gilbert was staring pale-faced in your direction with a shred of guilt at what he had caused.
Of course, when you snapped at him for making you cough, he laughed at you, and told you “Only unawesome people choke on their own water!”
You rolled your eyes. “Only ‘unawesome’ people think ‘unawesome’ is a word,” yo
Austria x Violinist!Reader ~A Company~ by GydroZMaa, literature
Literature
Austria x Violinist!Reader ~A Company~
~A Company~
Even during dinnertime, he can hear her tapping her fingers on the cushion of her chair, voicelessly humming a tune to herself. He hears her mistakes despite lacking a melody. There are breaks she misses and pizzicatos that do not bite on the neck.
He points out that she missed the sixteenth rest in the forty-third measure without looking up from his tea and papers. She sighs and stops tapping, the room falling into an awkward silence. He turns the page and makes a note with his old quill. She wishes he will go out and buy a new set of quills; they are worn and hardly hold enough ink to write two letters, let alone two notes, bu