Hello, I'm back, sorry for the week of no-updating. If you will look at my profile, you will see the schedule that I plan to stick to when it comes to updating my stories from here on out. School is starting, and we all know how that is, so I'm going to be pretty busy these next few months. But hopefully I can keep track of all this, yeah?

Oh, and did I tell y'all that I got a hamster? Yep! Her name is Sarah, and she's a Syrian, and I adore her.

Also, I recommend reading The Infernal Devices by Cassandra Clare because it's amazing.

ScarletPrussia- Thanks for the review! For the record, I love where your story Arrogant Alphas and Stubborn Omegas is going as well. :3 Hopefully I'm keeping the characters close to who they are, right? And needless to say, the teachers are not pleased, but I can only hope that I've given you a viable option for a patch up, yeah? xD Enjoy!

Thank you, all of you, for your reviews. I hope y'all like this chapter, and please continue commenting. :)

Oh, and y'all should totally check into ScarletPrussia's PruHun omega verse fic too. It's fabulous.

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia.

Electric Nights

"When someone loves you, the way they talk about you is different. You feel safe and comfortable."

―Jess C. Scott, The Intern

Gilbert's body slid in front of Eliza's, an instinct to protect the life-giver making the young Alpha place himself between his Omega and the perceived threat. A low growl was rumbling through his chest, vibrating up his throat. His right arm crossed over his chest to rest on the pommel of his sword, red eyes narrowed and flickering about.

Elizaveta, perhaps because of her coming heat, or perhaps because she was more comfortable around Gilbert, or perhaps because she was slightly scared of what the teachers would do to her, ducked behind the protective Alpha. The Hungarian had to close her eyes and take a few deep breaths to regain her mind from the wreath of instinct to hide behind the big strong Alphas, and let them do the job of fighting. She could fight too, that was why she had a small dagger at her own waist, not that she was going to go demonstrating that in public; she didn't want her family to be taken into custody, after all.

Once in control of her own body, she began to work on calming Gilbert down, a wisp of that Omega compulsion telling her to take care of her Alpha, and soothe them. Her fingers slid over his tensed back, dipping along the wings of his shoulder blades, and running along the backs of his arms. He relaxed incrementally. Standing on her tiptoes, she ducked her nose against the back of his neck, nuzzling into the warm skin and whimpering and humming in his ear. This behavior wasn't entirely demeaning to her, it actually helped to prove the power Omegas have over their Alphas, but it was something she'd never imagined herself doing before—calming down an Alpha by pressing her face into his neck. And all of a sudden, she wanted to continue doing that, to take strength in certain aspects of her frailty. Maybe giving into instincts wouldn't be so bad after all, though that didn't mean that she would demand any less respect than what she wanted.

Gilbert relaxed fully then, the weight of his Omega against his back, the feather light touch of her nose and then the full warmth of her face pressing into his neck doing the trick. He took a shuddering breath and turned about, sliding his arms around Elizaveta's waist and pulling her into him, pressing the side of his nose into her hair and inhaling. That would aid to calm him down even further.

Both were oblivious to the eyes of some of the students. Not all of them cared, as most had mates and understood the instincts that were ruling Gilbert and Eliza's movements. The reason so many were gazing was because of the Hungarian Omega's outfit.

Only the Beta teachers moved forward to discuss the situation with the mated pair, the Alphas hanging back for fear some of them might lose control of their anger if Gilbert got snappish in his defenses of his mate.

"Gilbert, why have you let your mate out in such attire?" asked one of the Betas, keeping a neutral tone. She didn't want to tip the teenage Alpha over the edge, knowing that this Prussian boy was far and wide one of the best sword wielders that many of the Alpha sword masters had seen.

"It was her chosen outfit for this dance," spoke up the white-haired teen, speaking over the higher in pitch voice of his mate. He knew that he would pay for that later, but it was in all of their best interests that she not stand up against the rules of society right at that moment, "I couldn't tell her to go find something else, as this is historical clothing of Hungary."
The Beta woman hummed, watching as the Alpha shifted away from his Omega, still keeping his right arm slung about her waist, and tucking her into his side, but being less protective of her than he had been earlier.

"You didn't give any rules about how Omegas should dress for this dance, gnädige Frau," said Gilbert, hating to have to show respect for a Beta of all natures, but he knew that it was only polite, and he had to get her to pardon Eliza for the rest of the evening.

The woman's eyes narrowed. "That would be because we assumed that she would follow the regular clothing guidelines of our school and this society. She has blatantly disregarded them."

Gilbert growled once more, low and warning. Eliza pressed her hand over the one that was slung about her waist, squeezing Gilbert's fingers reassuringly. Finally, she spoke up.

"But if the Omegas of the past wore this clothing, than why should it be improper for me to do so? I am following what was once uniform for other men and women, should I not be showing respect to my ancestors by obeying what they had decided to be proper in their day?"

"But it was in their day, little one," spoke the Beta, condescending to the Omega that was beneath her rank in society. "They were able to wear outfits with less fabric because that was the rules of their society. We have since modernized past such barbaric ways. It is in your greatest interest to respect our rules."

Elizaveta shifted, constricted and upset. "I don't understand, why am I not able to dress the way my ancestors would? Why am I not allowed to clothe myself in the clothes of my past peoples?"

The Beta sucked in, an exasperated breath. "Because that is not right."

Gilbert could feel Elizaveta's body coiling beneath his hand, and he knew that she was going to retaliate, he could feel the hatred for this order in the shifting of her muscles beneath her skin. So he spoke up.

"If necessary, I will take her back to her home and have her clothe in historical garb that is more appropriate for the Hungarian people," he spoke, trying to placate the situation, even though every single Alpha urge roiling beneath his flesh was urging him to defend his mate, to fight against that self-righteous Beta that seemed to consider herself above Alphas.

A pleased expression flashed across the woman's face. "That would be splendid, thank you for your coöperation."

Gilbert grinned wickedly, "Wonderful, don't drink the punch Eliza," he told her helpfully as he steered her by the Beta, who was once more angry.

"What are you doing?" the woman snapped, reaching out to snag at Gilbert's cape. The Prussian whipped about, a vicious growl tearing past his lips. "I'm exercising my right as an Alpha to have control over my mate," he said, each word marked out with a knife's threat.

"But she is not your mate, is she?" murmured the Beta as a parting blow, a very pleased smile on her face. "I don't see a claim on her, do you? And I certainly don't smell you on her. You haven't even scented your Omega, what a shame," she tsked, reaching out to take Eliza's other hand only to yelp as the girl crunched the woman's fingers together in a lethal grip.

Gilbert huffed, but was proud of Eliza's ability to resist. "Let her go, Engel, she is not worth it," he spoke out, brushing a kiss to the side of her head. Eventually Elizaveta did as asked, not finding it worth her time to hang on the ridiculous woman.

"Do I need to claim her? Is that the thing you demand of me, so that she may wear the outfit she no doubt worked on for a long time?" he asked the woman, his voice falsely agreeable.

"Yes, that is exactly what you need to do," said the woman, trying to covertly shake out her aching fingers.

"Do I need to mark her, or do I scent her?" Gilbert asked, choosing to test how much this Beta teacher knew about the relations between Alphas and Omegas.

The woman faltered. "Mark her, I believe," she murmured. This was out of her depth, as she was the sewing teacher for the Omega wing. She didn't need to know whether Alphas needed to fully lay claim to their Omegas by marking or if they could make do temporarily with scenting.

Gilbert grinned. "Wrong," he chirped happily, turning Eliza so that she was in front of him. The girl understood what he was going to do, and for once remained quiet, letting the Alpha call the shots for the moment. He was in control of the situation at the moment anyway. Tilting her head to the right, she bared her neck to him.

Gilbert swallowed, eyes skipping over the smooth skin. He knew that what he really wacted to do was lay claim to her, place his mark there so that no other would take her. But there was a more temporary solution that didn't even involve teeth needing to go into skin.

Ducking his head, and feeling the burning touch of hundreds of pairs of eyes, he pressed his face into the crook of her neck, feeling Eliza inhale sharply. She was nearing her heat, so the sensation of an Alpha's mouth so close to the place that one would mark an Omega was slightly overwhelming for her. Smirking against her skin and feeling her grunt of frustration, he gently pressed his lips against her skin before nudging at it with his teeth and then brushing his nose and cheeks against her. That would have to do for the moment, a faint red ring left where his teeth had born down on her neck. He'd had a bit of difficulty at that point to restrain himself from not fully marking her. It wasn't proper in such a public setting.

The Beta was huffy, but she eventually let them pass once a few other Betas and even one Alpha approached, though Gilbert had to be fenced back a bit when the Alpha stepped forward to test the scenting. Elizaveta had only rolled her eyes at Gilbert's instinctive reactions to other Alphas being near what he no doubt considered his Omega now. But it was sweet, and secretly she was pleased that he was so possessive of her, cute in its odd way.

After the authorities had let them be, though they did keep an eye on them, Gilbert took Eliza over to where his friends and their respective Omegas stood. Eliza smiled kindly at Francis's playful wink and grinned teasingly at Antonio's clueless smile. Gil was happy with how easily she seemed to integrate in with the other boys, even though he was pretty sure he'd seen Francis butt heads with her once in the hallway.

"You look absolutely stunning in your skirt, Eliza," spoke up Francis, his voice purring with the usual French accent. Liz barely managed to refrain from blushing, and that was only because she could hear Gilbert stirring somewhat uncomfortably next to her, his hand drifting to brush along her hips as if he needed a reassurance that she was still very much within his reach.

"You do, but don't you think that is a little risky?" spoke up Antonio, wincing as Lovino stomped on his foot. "Oi, Lovino!" snapped the Alpha, insulted and hurt. The Italian shrugged unapologetically.

"Well, it's risky for a reason Antonio," responded Elizaveta, shrugging shamelessly. "Things need to change around here."

Matthew, the Canadian Omega that Francis trailed around all the time, cocked his head. Gilbert only just noticed him as he spoke up. "I don't think that you should dress like that anyway," he said quietly, voice whisper-shy.

Eliza bristled. "And why not?"

"Because it's making too much of a statement too early on."

The Hungarian fell silent, mulling over this piece of wisdom. She was like Gilbert in some ways, eager to rush headlong into things that probably should be considered before being attempted.

But Lovino was well and truly on Elizaveta's side here. "No," he said with finality. "She needs to make statements to get people's attention. No one's going to be noticed just lying down, after all, no one notices you half the time because you never speak up." Unlike his younger Italian brother, when Lovino said that it was not in a playfully innocent way. He meant for those words to make their mark, and they rang true.

Francis growled, shifting to block his Omega from the view of the antagonistic Romano. "So he isn't a filthy-mouthed Italian such as you, I do believe that there are worse fates," said the Frenchman darkly.

Antonio moved to defend Lovino, especially as an angry flush was darkening the hue of the Omega's cheeks, but the argument was broken up as the first slow song of the night came on. It was the obligation for Alphas to take their Omegas to the dance floors during these moments, to wrap them close and stake their claim for any unmated Alphas in the room to see.

The group broke on testy ground, Francis sweeping a flustered Matthew fantastically into the middle of the dance floor and demanding the attention of most. He was all about grandeur, after all, and it was certainly an obvious way to get it. Every Alpha was supposed to take dance lessons, as much consternation as that caused, so that they might impress Omegas and make good standing in social events that could involve dancing in their futures.

Antonio was equally magnificent in leading Lovino out, though one could tell that this waltz was not their type of dance. They were looking for something a little more exciting to get into the beat of, especially Antonio.

Gilbert, however, understood that Eliza would like to be asked to dance, not rudely swept on the dance floor without her permission. There was a time for random bursts of spontaneity, but at the beginning of their fledgling relationship was not it.

"Elizaveta," said Gilbert, bowing slightly in front of her and offering her his hand. A smirk was on his lips as he peered up at her through white eyelashes. "May I have this dance?"

Elizaveta pretended to consider it, giggling at the scrunched expression that marred Gilbert's previously laughing face. "Of course you may," she relented and he soon led her to the floor, his right hand falling to her hip while her left moved to his right shoulder. His left hand grasped her right in a firm, but gentle grip and raised their conjoined hands to about the height of his shoulder. And then they began to move with the music, Eliza leaning slightly against her mate not for search of support but because she wanted to feel the padded firmness of his body beneath hers, wanted to smell him and feel the fabric of his clothes beneath her cheek. They eventually melted down from a full-on waltz into a soft sort of swaying comfort, with his left hand falling down to her hip and her right hand falling to his shoulder. They melted against each other, oblivious to the rest of the room as Gilbert pressed his face into Eliza's hair and squeezed his eyes shut, not wanting the moment to end. But it did, and more dances were taken up.

Antonio and Lovino ruled the dance floor when a particularly intense dance rang over the speakers, their hands rippling sensually over one another's bodies and leaving many teachers unsure of what to do.

Francis and Matthew were stunning in most dances they took part in, if only because Francis was so remarkably flashy and seemed to particularly spinning Matthew into a dip even when one wasn't necessary.

Gilbert and Elizaveta were content with just being with one another, most of the time abandoning full on dancing about halfway through the song to press against one another and just absorb.

Walking out afterwards, some feathers were smoothed. Romano apologized to Matthew at the insistence of Antonio, and Francis apologized to Romano at the insistence of Matthew. All was well in the friend group once more, and as Antonio and Francis melted away with their mates, or future ones as the case may be, Gil hung behind with Eliza.

"Do you think it's possible that I could spend the night at your house again?" he asked her, laughing as she gave him an incredulous look.

"Sure, so I can have your intimidating father storming into my house demanding what we've done with you?" she snorted, her fingers moving up to push through Gilbert's hair, making each strand stick up at angles.

"My heat is in a couple days, you'll have your chance then," she murmured, smiling at the spark of excitement and want that appeared in Gilbert's eyes. She knew that the Alpha in Gil could sense it, an Omega in preheat was never really obscure.

"I will have plenty of chances," preened Gil, his right hand moving absently up to brush against the crook of Elizaveta's neck where he had marked her.

"You will be mine, darling, and don't protest, please Gott." He muttered, watching Eliza's mouth open to do exactly that.

"I can't…" he seemed to waver then, "I can't bear the idea of you being with another Alpha. Please, Engel, please just don't fight me on this one." He practically begged her, watching as the Hungarian's eyes widened for a moment with understanding.

"You're scared that you might lose me, aren't you?" she whispered, watching as the Alpha's head dropped in shame. An Alpha should never be afraid of anything,t hat was a general rule of society, and here was Gilbert opening up one of his no doubt many fears to her.

She couldn't disappoint.

Sliding her hands up his body, she wrapped her arms about his neck and hugged herself to him, her curvy shadow pressing against his silhouette in the shade that was thrown on the concrete from a street lamp by the school. She knew that he wasn't going to cry, but he was enduring a moment of something, something that was making him shake, not from tears but from a completely separate entity. And as his arms wound greedily about her waist to pull her practically into him, she rubbed her face into the crook of his neck, trying to discretely scent mark him as her own. A rumble of laughter vibrating against her body let her know that she hadn't been as covert as she'd hoped.

"Someone's a little possessive," murmured Gil, pulling away enough to press his forehead to Eliza's. She grinned sheepishly and nudged her nose with his. "I'll be yours, but that means that you have to promise to be mine." Something unnameable flitted through Gilbert's ruby eyes at that moment, something confusingly soft and humming with an energy of warmth and adoration.

"So be it," he said, pressing a kiss to her lips that Eliza rapidly deepened. He was soon backing her up against the wall of the school, his hands dipping lower on her waist and brushing against the bare skin of her thighs. Shivers wracked through both at the sensation and a somewhat possessive growl oscillated from Gilbert, leaving a somewhat gasping and electrified and needy Elizaveta in its wake.

"I might be wrong," she gasped as Gilbert's lips moved form her own to nip hungrily at the soft skin of her collarbone and neck, grasping at the cape on his back with desperate fingers. "I think my heat may be a lot sooner than I thought it would," she moaned out as his teeth hit a particularly sensitive spot and began to work at it.

And then the sound of a cellphone buzzed through their zapped silence, shattering the atmosphere with each blatant ring.

Groaning and pulling his teeth from where they had been scraping over her neck, Gilbert slid it from the pocket he'd worked inside his costume and gazed down at the Caller ID.

From what he could discern, it was an Italian area code. His heart dropped and he hurriedly raised it to his ear. "Feliciano?" he asked, not even bothering with silly formalities.

A harried, crazed Italian voice came over the line, and Gilbert could feel Eliza reacting to the panic, an Omega instinct rising in her to comfort whatever the younger boy. Gilbert eased her by rubbing gentle, firm circles along her hip.

"Gilbert! It's Ludwig, you've got to get over here," Feliciano was only barely making any sense in English, and the boy in his fright was rapidly slipping into Italian.

"Was?" snapped Gilbert in German, keeping himself close to Eliza as his own urge to protect his Omega kicked in, especially as there appeared to be an emergency where Feliciano was at.

The Hungarian Omega said nothing, just let Gilbert ease his own peace of mind, as being close to him helped her calm down.

"There's been an accident," whimpered Feliciano, obviously lost and keening over what could either be his mate's dead or very injured body.

Gilbert coiled with rage and panic, tucking his nose into Eliza's neck to try to calm himself. The phone switched from his left to right ear so that he could manage this without cutting off connection with Feli.

Eliza didn't mind this as it gave her a better in to listen to what was going on, and one hand moved to run through Gilbert's hair.

"Why weren't you two at the dance? Where are you?"

"Ludwig wanted to do something special, something different!" wailed Feliciano, giving Gilbert a headache. "We're in the subway station at Yankee Stadium," gasped out Feli before falling silent and a muffled voice was heard over the line. It was Ludwig's, and there was a good amount of pain in it.

"Oh, Scheiße," cursed Gilbert, "we'll be right there," he turned off the phone and pocketed it. Elizaveta began to steer him towards the car he'd driven to get them to the dance.

"Well, we have no time to lose," she said, hopping into the passenger seat and buckling herself in. Her legs crossed and she settled comfortably back, meeting Gil's unsure expression with a challenging eyebrow raise. "I'm going with you, Gilbert, I don't care how dangerous it is. I have a dagger, you have your sword. We'll be fine." She patted his arm for a moment, saw him shudder with a breath, and then he was shutting her door and going about to the driver's side.

The engine revved to life beneath them and they whirled away, with Gilbert going perhaps faster than was the speed limit in hopes that his brother would be okay.

And what are we thinking?

I really wanted to get more in touch with the animalistic, biological, instinctual parts of Omegaverse. I hope I did those parts justice, and if not, please let me know. Is Elizaveta believable in this chapter? Or not? What about Gilbert? Review and let me know your thoughts!

Oh, and I'm thinking of having the next ten chapters be the story of DenNor's relationship. Sorry to leave you all hanging on this cliffhanger, but I want to add some more couples in here, get a wider scope of viewpoints and the like.

Have a nice school year, y'all. Don't be miserable, please, that's never any fun, all of you are beautiful human beings.