NOTICE: THIS STORY ISN'T HISTORICAL AND PLAYS NO PART IN THE PAST. (except for the emperor's name ) ALL IS FICTION.

SO BLIMMIN SRRY I UP,LOADED LATE AGAIN! AGRHRRHGRHGAHRGAHRGAH IM SO ANNOYED WITH MYSELF!

DIsCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN HETALIA…sadly :'(

Qin: Chinese emperor during 221 BC.

Wang Yao is kidnapped by the emperor's soldiers and sold to Lord Ivan Braginski as a slave. Ivan finds Wang Yao to be beautiful. But he worries that Yao will be frightened of him because of all the terrible things he had done in the past. Will Yao see the beauty in Ivan? Or will he remain terrified of him forever?...suckish summary im sorry. WARNING: MAY INCLUDE SOME BLOOD, SELF HARM, AN EVIL EMPEROR, PERVS AND POSSIBLE RAPE.

WARNING: EXTREME MENTAL BREAKDOWN AHEAD


The spring birds sang and tapped against the cold pane window just as the snow remains for only one more day. Yao sat up hazed from last night and couldn't recall a single thing. He stretched his arms out wide and pulled himself off the bed. He rubbed his forehead, shook his tangled hair and stepped out the room. He knew he was back in Ivan's mansion. He took a step forward, the floorboard creaking as he moved. Footsteps echoing down the hallway interrupting the silence. Yao turned and saw the once locked private room slightly open. Ivan said he wasn't allowed to go in there. Then why is it unlocked and completely onto his reach? Curiosity builds in Yao's mind. What is in that room?

With determination, he approached it, desperate to finally find the answer to why he kept it hidden from him. And when Yao finally flung the door wide open, he froze. This is a nursery. The room is surrounded by countless amounts of stuffed toys, baby rattles and bottles. And sprawled in the middle of the room is a tired Ivan. His tear stained eyes lost its glowing purple, the skin under them sagged emphasizing three hollow creases, his pallor skin a sickly white , crusty lips and on his right hand was a knife. Yao stared at the Ivan displayed in front of him. An Ivan he had never encountered. Never once had he seen Ivan cry. But what worries him more is that knife in his trembling hands.

"I told you not to come in here, Yao. I told you" Ivan said in as he sat himself up against the crib. Yao stood by the doorway, unable to decide on an action. He bit his inner lip and swallowed. Then, small patches of blood began to appear on the Russian's sleeve.

"Master, what have you done?" Yao exclaimed as he rushed to his side and pulled his sleeve up. Ivan gasped at the sudden pain as the fabric roughly rubbed against his sore skin. Ivan thrashed his hand back to himself ashamed. "You don't want to see that, Yao" Ivan smiled a little and pulled the sleeve back down. He gave Yao a small giggle until his sleeves were pulled up again arms in the tense grip of the other. Yao winced when getting the full view of his master's arm. Millions of gashes and raised red lines filled the space on his snowy, irritated skin. When it all heals, his arm will never return to the soft, fair complexion. The scars will remain for the rest of his life as a reminder of those days. Ivan knew that well and didn't care how mangled his arm will be. He just needed a form of release.

Yao touched the red lines and traced them down Ivan's arm. Feeling how deep it was set, feeling the Russian's blood. Ivan's smile faded. He looked at the Chinese's worried eyes and gripped the bloodied knife in his hands. The knife was placed in the hands of Yao as he looked up at his owner in confusion.

"Do it, Yao. Cut me" Ivan instructed his slave. He took Yao's hand and aimed the pointed object on his head. "Do it" he repeated. Yao's hands shook silently, the air between the knife and Ivan's forehead was very little. Careful not to actually cut the man's head, he tried lowering it down.

"Come on, Yao. Cut me" Ivan repeated.

"No, Master. I can't do that to you" Yao replied as he carefully brought the knife down. It wasn't long until Ivan's eyes watered.

"Please, Yao, just put it through my head. End it all for me" Ivan pleaded, voice breaking. He wiped his eyes with his sleeve and gazed at the glimmering knife in the other's hands. How he wished he could push the knife through his own brain. How he wished to see his blood in his own hands, the feel of his own heart as it stops at the final beat, all those terrible memories to just be gone along as he travels to purgatory. But he was weak. He couldn't do that although he was willing.

"Yao, please" Ivan took hold of Yao's equipped hand "Kill me. Make me bleed. Hurt me. Do whatever you can as revenge for what I've done"

Yao couldn't move nor know exactly how to feel. Instead, he watched the Russian guide his hand to his forehead once again, pressing onto the sensitive flesh. Small beads of crimson formed around the tip of the knife as the point dug deep into the snowy skin. Yao struggled under the Russian's strength, desperate to point the knife away from Ivan's forehead.

"Master, stop this. I can't do it! Let go! It hurts!"

Ivan gave in and lessened his grip on Yao's wrists which left a red-purplish mark. He hung his head low, disappointed.

"I've hurt you again" Ivan croaked. The chinese man stared at his wrists. It was nothing much. The mark will disappear after a day. Ivan, however, took the small matter a lot more seriously.

"I keep hurting you. I keep hurting everyone. Why must I be so destructive? " Ivan sniffled in between sentences. His words were a melancholy ring to Yao's ears. The larger man poured out his feelings in heartbreaking-tenderness. And like a sinner, he confessed.

"I can't do this anymore, Yao. Everyone I loved has left me. Look at me. I live alone, away from the city noises. My father hated me. His favourite was Natalia. But ever since she passed away along with my older sister, the blame has been on me. I couldn't disagree with my father on that. Then when I finally thought I found love, she happened not to be interested in commitment to only one person. She had many men surrounding her, and each one she lay with. And then I lay with her and she bore me a child. I kept her with me until the day she decided to leave with my daughter, my only daughter. And then...and then..." Ivan tried to hold back the tears, tried to restrict any other sound from his mouth.

Yao's expression softened as he felt a warm feeling inside of him. He placed his small hands on the Russian's shoulder as a sign of comfort.

"Master, It's alrigh-"

"I shot her! My only child, I shot her!" Ivan cried. His body shook at the words coming from his own mouth. The guilt was too heavy. He couldn't bare to carry all this weight around for the rest of his life.

Yao's mouth stood agape in shock as the following words were said. He knew Ivan is a monster, messed up in the head. And yet, he had no other intention than to listen to him, care for him.

"I shot her, Yao. And I've hurt you too!" Ivan's tears fell faster, images of the previous night flooding his mind. The sight of Yao's pained face, his screams of terror, those abnormal movements as he devoured him.

"I'm terrible. I'm the worst...please, just thrust that knife through my heavy burdened heart for it has no reason to live more" Ivan's head falls onto Yao's shoulder wetting the fabric beneath , prepared for the sharp object to pierce through his skin, but it never came. Instead short arms wrapped around the larger frame and grasped tightly onto Ivan's coat. Yao set his chin on top of Ivan's head and ran his hands up and down the man's back calming him down. The Russian, no matter how amazing it felt to be held, couldn't refrain from crying. He yearned for this warmth, for this moment, for Yao's touch. He smiled in between tears and brought his own hands up to the smaller one's shoulders, returning the gesture.

"Thank you, Yao"


SO HORRIBLY FLURKING SORRRY FOR THE SHORT CHAPTERRRR! araghrgahrgahgh soo annoyed with myselffe!

ANYWAYZZ THNXX SOO MUCH FOR ALL THE REVIEWS ANDFAVES AND FOLLOWS! IT TRULLY MAKESME HAPPYY!

FEED THIS AUTHOR WITH REVIEWS AND FAVES. IF YOU DON'T SHE WILL STARVE :(...nah just kiddingg heheheh