I am Wall Spider and I need to be stopped immediately. But idgaf. It's 2018, I'm getting back into my Hetalia, and there are no fanfics I found since 2016 that are worth my time. I need my gay shit, and what's better than having the gayest pretending-to-be-straight children I found on the internet? Contains smut, swearing, boy x boy relationships, and some descriptive gore. Read at your own risk. I do not own Hetalia.
His papa had cried and cried. He wouldn't stop crying. He'd cried for three days until he did just stop. And he was dead. Just like Nonna was. Just like Mamma was. He'd told them it was with them, but they didn't listen to him. Who listens to a kid like him anyway, their imaginative little Noodle? It was their fault they were dead. That didn't make the pain any more bearable though.
Feliciano blinked as he felt his eye twitch. He looked down at the box in his arms. "Move your ass, idiota bastardo. We still have a bunch more stuff to unload from the car," growled his brother Lovino from a bit farther in front. He nodded. Lovino rolled his eyes and turned back to the front. "Idiota fantasma…" Lovino spat, walking forward. Feliciano trudged forward after his brother. His feet and heart felt like lead. It wasn't his fault. It wasn't his fault. It wasn't-
There were eyes. The eyes rolled along his body. He knew the feeling well. He looked up from the box up at the building before them. Grey and foreboding, the castle stood atop the hill looking down across the small town. In the topmost window of the highest tower stood a small boy. When he blinked, the boy darted away into the black. He would have stared longer if he wasn't afraid of Lovino's angry voice cutting at him again.
He hurried up to only a step behind Lovino. The eyes still squirmed in his esophagus. It was getting hard to breathe. Feliciano swallowed hard. An eye slid down and dropped into his stomach like a lump of lead. The impact inside caused him to double over and groan. The box hit the ground with a hollow thud. Lovino's hand shook him. "Oi, idiota!" his brother's voice sounded distorted. "Just breathe. Don't worry, it isn't here. It's nothing but a pile of ashes now." Feliciano tried to nod, but something inside of him felt too wrong for things to be alright. He sunk to his knees, placing his hands on the gravel path in front of him. He looked at the cardboard box before him. "N-Nonna," he whimpered. "Papa. Mamma."
His rock-coated palm touched the moist brown paper in front of him. Instantly, a rush of tranquility washed over him. The eyes were still watching him. Feliciano felt it in the lead weight in the pit of his stomach. It wasn't much better, but it was the best he was going to get. After all, the eyes were still watching him. They would never stop watching him.
Feliciano rose to his feet again, taking up the box and trekking this time side by side with his brother. Every now and then, he would feel Lovino's eyes roll over him and then go away. He could tell his eyes from their eyes. Their eyes were cold. They rolled along his spine and stuck in his throat where he couldn't breathe. Those eyes made him sick when they dropped into his stomach like lead. Lovino's eyes weren't their eyes. Lovino's eyes weren't as cold, nor did they stick on his body or in his throat. Lovino's eyes made him feel calmer and safer. They could be warm sometimes. When they were, Lovino's eyes talked to him and laughed with him. They rolled a lot, but they still smiled. Lovino's eyes were a rich green mixed with a tender brown. Feliciano called them "Summer Eyes". His papa had Summer Eyes once too.
"I was just wondering fratello," Feliciano said. "Why didn't you drive the car up to the house? It would make things much easier." Lovino tensed up. "Why do you talk so much, idiota? And since when did you learn to think?" he snapped through gritted teeth. He stormed farther up the path. Feliciano blinked, wondering what his brother was so upset about. It was best not to ask, however. Lovino was the angriest Tomato he'd ever met. Mention one thing that even remotely triggers him and he goes off about it for a week.
Feliciano almost didn't notice when the gravel pathway became concrete. The slabs weren't new, but they weren't too old. It was weathered grey and cracked in places. Despite the discoloration, the surface was still smooth enough to still look like concrete. The new path led up to the back door of that familiar old castle. Manor Rinascimentale his family called it, Renaissance Manor. Feliciano remembered that day he heard his Nonno Roma talking to Mamma: "Someday, la mia piccola Renaissancia, Manor Rinascimentale will be all yours. I named it for you, did I not?" Mamma had laughed. It was the first time he'd ever heard her laugh. She'd never laughed. Her smile was just as mysterious as she was. In all truth really, Manor Rinascimentale was a magical place. First, it was the place the brothers knew as a summer vacation spot as children, then a sanctuary after their Nonna's death, and now it was their new home.
He followed his brother up the smooth limestone steps leading to the door. As he remembered, it was the same door made of the hard walnut wood he was familiar with. It was shockingly still as smooth and shiny as before, even though it had been exposed to the elements for- what- over a decade since they'd last been there? His memory was fuzzy, but he knew it had been a while. Feliciano ran his hand over the surface of the door. It didn't even feel weathered at all. He smiled. Of course it wasn't. The other ones were here too. They wouldn't let that happen to their home.
As if uttering his own thoughts, Lovino gave a soft, "Merda santa." He too touched the door in wonder. Feliciano looked at his brother's wide eyes. They gleamed as he ran his gaze over the sleek polished surface. "Oh yeah, the other ones definitely did this," he grinned, turning to Feliciano with an enthusiastic look in his eyes.
"Yes, they sure did little Tomato. You won't believe what they did in here."
The pair jumped. The thick Italian accented voice from behind the door shouldn't have startled them. They knew exactly who that was. Just like in a movie, the door swung open, revealing a curly-haired man with a familiar honey-colored gaze. "Nonno Roma!" Feliciano chirped. He placed the box in his arms on the ground before throwing himself into his grandfather's arms. "Ah, il mio Feliciano, you're still just the same as before!" Roma replied, practically crushing his grandson in his embrace. When Roma turned to Lovino, his eyes were huge. "Che cos'è questo? Is that really the little Tomato Lovino I saw only a few years ago? You've gotten so tall!" he pulled the man into a hug before he could run away. Feliciano snickered as his brother began squirming about and swearing vigorously in Italian. "Let me go, you cazzo di bastardo! I swear I'm gonna pummel you!" he shrieked. Roma laughed heartily. "And you've got that sharp and nasty little tongue from your father too! I didn't like him, but he sure was fun at parties!" Roma swung the man back and forth before placing him back on the ground. The sight of a dizzy, half-suffocated Lovino was a sight he would cherish for the rest of his life.
"Well don't just stand there little Vargases! Come on in, I have to show you what the other ones did to the place!" Roma beckoned for his grandsons to come in. The two promptly followed him. Feliciano couldn't help but smile as wide as he could. The courtyard was lined with rose bushes. The giant ruby-colored blossoms blotching the hedges ignored the frosty autumn winds stirring them. The emerald waves of grass blended well with the mossy bushes. In the midst of the green, white marguerite daisies interwove in the blades of grass. Bluebells, primroses, Camillas, and beautiful foxgloves grew alongside the flowers. In a space a bit away from the line of rose bushes was a sakura tree, surrounded by spider lilies. The spider lilies were joined alongside Bear's breeches, speckling the red ring with violet splotches. The sky seemed so much more brilliant with all of those colors. The cobblestone path reaching towards the keep was even dotted with flowers. Feliciano bent down and touched a tiny primrose bud that had just arisen to glimpse out to the sun. The flower suddenly burst into bloom, revealing it to be the greatest and most illustrious of all of the primroses. The stem coiled itself around his finger. It seemed to gaze up at him pleadingly with its magenta-rimmed face. He plucked it from the path and gazed at it. This is her flower, he thought. It looks just like her.
"Oi idiota, why don't you hurry your slow ass up before you miss what's inside?" Lovino called from farther in front of him. Feliciano snapped back to reality. He was surprised how far ahead of him his fratello and nonno had gotten in the short time he'd bent down to pick a single flower. He jogged up to them, all while keeping his eyes on the amazing scenery around them. It was like a story Mamma had read to him when he was little. That story, with the valiant knight bounding through the field of flowers to save his beloved princess, locked in a tower far away. Valiant. Beloved. Those were his favorite words. Mamma knew that, and she used them carefully. They who gained the title of "Valiant" or "Beloved" was immediately his favorite. The flower pinched between his fingers was most definitely beloved to him. Of course it was. It was hers.
When Feliciano stepped onto the first stair of the wide, winding staircase, he felt a breeze fly below him. The ground seemed to vanish for a moment. His heart skipped a beat. He looked down, at first warily, then with pure fascination. He was floating. As suddenly as the breeze had come by, it left, setting him back on the ground as if he were a newborn child. That… that was definitely one other the other ones. He whipped around, hoping to gain a glimpse of just who they were. Roma laughed heartily from behind a corner. "They're teasing you, little Noodle. Who wouldn't want to, though? And they missed you," he explained. Feliciano smiled fondly. "Well it's good they did," he said, spinning around on the steps, "I sure did miss them."
He rounded the corner of the keep, which jutted into the staircase, coming to a leveler part of the path. A door stood in the middle of the wall. It was the same thick wood as the door outside. Lined with gold spiraling in intricate patterns on the edge of the wood, it seemed like the entrance to a king's palace. It looked like the entrance to the Palace of Versailles, or Windsor Castle, or the Schönnbrun Palace. Feliciano couldn't believe they'd done this to the place. Of course, only one of them had done this door- his distinct signature was all over it. The surprising thing about it was that no one had stopped him. Why would he let them, though?
He reached to unclasp the door, but it was suddenly flung open with a shockingly cold blast of air whisking in from behind. He stumbled forward with the impact. A light chuckle echoed in his ears. "Well well, if it isn't le plus petit Vargas, notre cher Feliciano," uttered the laugh's owner to his right. He jumped, turning to a pair of glittering blue eyes. And they were… upside down. "Hon hon, assez magique, don't you agree?" the eyes' owner said in their distinct French accent, "No need to take pictures, mon cher- not that I would appear in them anyway. This is all perfectly normal." Feliciano grinned wider than he had before. The person's blue eyes flipped right-side up. He grabbed Feliciano's face and planted a kiss on both cheeks. "Welcome back to Manor Rinascimentale," he said, with a charming yet narcissistic grin, "our beloved Prince Vargas."