a/n: thank you Daisies, minoki and Tamer Lorika for the lovely reviews! to Daises - i've edited the front part, sleep addled brain confuses the muzzle with the butt and i use british english (my country's part of the commonwealth), idk if the blonde thingy is correct or not...
Prussia wakes up with a start, finding himself still in his human form, stark naked, clinging on to Austria for dear life.
Austria straightens his spectacles as he looks at the albino with a bemused expression on his face. He reaches for a cup of crimson liquid and hands it to his familiar. "Drink this."
Prussia eyes the cup skeptically but nonetheless, takes it from the brunette and downs it in a few gulps. It tastes sweet and bitter at the same time and the albino wonders what it is as he feels the sharp sting of the pain from his injuries disappear. He looks at the violet eyed witch, who smiles serenely as he takes the cup back.
"Ready to tell me about what happened?" the brunette asks.
"Why did you pick me?"
Austria blinks and pauses for a moment. "As a familiar?"
"Of course," Prussia replies irritably. He tells himself that the answer is obvious, it is because of his incredible awesomeness but he knows how pathetic it sounds in reality, given his injured state when Austria bound him.
"Does it matter?" the violet eyed witch's eyes grow a shade darker. Prussia notices the change in atmosphere and he shivers but nonetheless, he doesn't change the subject, so Austria does. "I need to participate in the War Games."
"The War Games?" Prussia asks, uncertain.
"Your injury hasn't healed enough?" Austria raises an eyebrow.
"It has. A wendingo attacked me," Prussia says sullenly, thinking of how from out of nowhere, something pounced onto him and took a large bite of his back. He barely managed to escape with the rest of himself intact - a hungry wendingo was the last thing an injured wolf could fight against - but the entire incident shocked him. He had always been the alert one in his pack before he broke away with his brother, so how could he have not noticed the creature's presence? And then there was his brother. Prussia wonders how he could've let someone capture him so easily but yet... He had always known that the day would come for them to part, to become a witch's familiar but alas, parting was such sweet sorrow. "The wendingo was someone's familiar," the albino continues, looking away.
Austria frowns. "Well. You do know what the War Games are about, don't you?"
"What are you fighting for?"
"The right to die."
Prussia freezes in shock. "Y-you..."
"Some people join the War Games just to feel pain, because after each millennium, it becomes the only way they can. Some join to become more powerful. Some join because they have no choice, with a new familiar, they are duty bound to prove their worth," Austria takes a deep breath. "I join because I want the prize. Witches cannot die, but with the prize, I can."
"But what about your bond with me?" Prussia asks in disbelief.
"It will be broken. You may go free after that."
"But that's-"
"After a few millenniums, you realise that eternity isn't as great as the stories make it out to be. I'm tired of this vicious cycle. It is now time for me to rest."
Prussia grits his teeth in frustration. "How could you not want to live?"
Austria laughs and his laughter reverberates in the air. It sounds sparkly and it shines in the silence but at the same time, it sounds so terribly lonely that Prussia finds himself wrapping his arms around the brunette to offer him warmth. Maybe, just maybe, if he could fill that hole created by years of solitude within the brunette's heart...
"What are you doing," Austria demands sharply.
"I don't want you to die," Prussia says slowly and continues before Austria can reply. "It isn't about some selfish reason like me proving my worth as a familiar or me wanting the power that comes with being one. It's just that..."
"That what?" Austria's eyes narrow slightly. "Don't make it sound as if you have any noble intentions about wanting me to live on. What do you know about me. Nothing. Nothing at all. Who are you to force your desires upon me?"
"What's your name?"
Austria stares at Prussia incredulously. "Austria," he says after a while.
"Austria," Prussia repeats the violet eyed witch's name, savouring how it sounded when he pronounced it.
Austria finds his cheeks flushing red as he realises that indeed, he likes the way his name sounds on his familiar's lips.
"I don't know anything about you. But I will get to know you. Most of all, I am your familiar," the albino says ruefully. "And I hope that when the time comes, that will be enough to change your mind."
England looks out of the window, admiring the fool moon. It comes only when the War Games are about to begin, when the moon would be blue and radiate heat, causing the hunger within creatures such as the wendingo to overwhelm them easily. His thoughts drift to relationship with America and he sighs.
The emerald eyed witch found America slightly more than a millennium ago, before he had acquired a familiar. In a field of wild flowers, he found a golden haired child who looked a little younger than him. He took him home, only to find that the child was not quite a child, but a wendingo, which was the best and the worst creature any witch could have as a familiar. It constantly needed to feed and if the witch was not powerful enough, they would never be equals so England never tried to make America his familiar, fearing the consequences. Over the years, as they grew closer, the strawberry blonde introduced England to Canada, his brother who the sandy blonde could never quite remember, and finally, the emerald eyed witch decided that to hell with the consequences - he needed to be with America no matter what - but he had refused, accusing England of looking down on him and treating him as a lesser being. After that, America left, never visiting him again, until that night.
England feels a wave of arousal sweep across him as he thinks of that night, of the unbridled lust in America's eyes as he appeared before him and of how he took him roughly, mixing pain with pleasure. He can still recall the orgasmic high brought about by his climax and along with the transfusion of power... England shivers as he reaches for the clasp of his trousers when he hears the sound of footsteps.
The emerald eyed witch turns around, coming face to face with his new familiar.
"You are..." Germany begins, unsure of what to say.
"My name is England," the sandy blonde looks at Germany, examining his muscular build. "We will be participating in the War Games," he says simply.
Germany nods. "Is there anything I must do for now?"
England is about to shake his head before an idea strikes him. He pulls his familiar close and brushes his lips against his. He trails his tongue along Germany's lower lip and his familiar moans, giving him access to his mouth. England touches his tongue to Germany's and finds that dominating his familiar is no easy task, which arouses him further. He breaks the kiss and leads a rather confused Germany to one of his bedrooms.
"What are you-"
"Hush, love," England whispers. "We must consummate our carnal pact," he divests Germany of his clothes easily, kissing him on the lips again before going lower to lick at his collarbone, nipping at the sensitive skin. Germany moans, arching forward as the emerald eyed witch uncorks a bottle of scented oil, coating his fingers with them as his tongue teases a dusty pink nipple. England's fingers reach for Germany's entrance and when he pushes one in, his familiar cries out as he goes down on him, taking his length into his mouth. Another digit enters, stretching, hitting Germany's sweet spot as England reaches to prepare himself, spreading a generous amount of oil over his erection.
England enters Germany slowly even though all he wants to do is to bury himself in to the hilt. His familiar's hot, tight heat is drawing him in and although Germany doesn't seem to understand what is going on, the way his hips buck forward involuntarily, seeking friction, is enough to tell the sandy blonde that he is enjoying it despite the slight discomfort. England thrusts forward, increasing his speed with each stroke, hitting Germany's prostate as he wraps his fingers around his familiar's cock, feathery touches bringing him to completion as the emerald eyed witch's release slams into him.
As England's power fills Germany while he basks in the afterglow of his climax, his familiar turns to the sandy blonde, bewildered by the foreign sensation.
"It's alright, love," England reassures him as he holds him close and within moments, Germany drifts off to sleep while the emerald eyed witch stares at the ceiling, deep in contemplation.
England wonders if he's using Germany as a substitute for America.
America thinks of Canada and wonders how anyone could torture such a gentle soul and push him repeatedly to the brink of insanity. Canada, like him, was always hungry but unlike him, he suppressed it well, letting it eat at him instead of eating others. He remembers how one evening, when the wind was cool and the both of them were lying in the tall grass beside a river with beautiful, clear waters, he reached for his brother in curiosity. He had always been fascinated by how Canada had no reaction to anyone or anything and exploring another's body was something that he had no prior knowledge of, so he decided that experimenting with his brother while he was asleep was the best way to get what he wanted.
The strawberry blonde remembers how his heart started beating faster as he removed Canada's clothes and how when he brushed his fingers across his brother's cock, slowly, it grew harder as he continued stroking. A small bead of moisture formed at the tip and hesitantly, he touched the tip of his tongue to the leaking slit as his fingers explored Canada's hardened length.
Canada tasted weird to him, an odd mixture of things he couldn't exactly name. He swirled his tongue on the tip before leaving it to rub his tongue against the underside, going lower until he found Canada's entrance. He flicked his tongue across it as he caressed his brother's cock. When he licked a heated trail back up to the tip again, Canada moaned in his sleep, hips jerking forward involuntarily as America slipped a finger into his entrance, probing gently. The strawberry blonde's fingertip found Canada's prostate unknowingly and when he pressed against it, he came, shuddering as America swallowed his seed, relishing the taste as power overwhelmed him.
Canada woke up with a start, feeling as if a part of him had been taken away and his hunger screamed at him to feed, to take as much as he can from anything when he saw America writhing on the ground, unable to control the sudden influx of power. Looking down at his naked form, he realised what his brother had done and with a howl, he fled, letting the urge to hunt and most importantly, to feed, fill him.
That night, America fucked England for the first time.
Sometimes, America wishes that he had accepted England's offer back then to become his familiar. Maybe if he did, he wouldn't feel as if his relationship with the emerald eyed witch was something that he needed to hide. He feels as if he is the third party in England's relationship with his familiar and some part of him actually feels guilty about how the sandy blonde cares for him. But it is too late for such thoughts and wallowing in self pity is something that never fails to disgust America, so he pushes those feelings of unbearable longing aside as he dives into the sea, hunting for food.
Hours later, America surfaces. The sun has already risen and his hunger is now suppressed. At least, he has enough strength to lock it up somewhere inside so it won't bother him for a while. Even as he hunted and fed, thoughts of a certain emerald eyed witch haunted his mind, causing him to shiver as he shakes the saltwater from his hair. This time, he doesn't need to go to him to get rid of the insanity feeding brings and his stomach churns as he thinks of how he still wants to be useful to England. He wants the sandy blonde to want him too and the need is so strong that it hurt, but he cannot think of any way that will let him have him for his own...
Unless he kills England's new familiar.
a/n: review please?