Author's Note:

I missed you :")

So, I will give you a very short reason why I wasn't around.

There was a math contest, I had to be excused for like three weeks. Then we had a film project which was another week, which turned into two. Finals, one week. Continuation of our film project, two days. Graduation practice, one week. Laziness and ABSOLUTELY NO INSPIRATION WHATSOEVER, one week.

Now I'm back but I need your help.

I promise to start Unrequited V.3 ASAP but I have to ask for some favors.

I'll be making a Randomness 'REQUEST' fic-llection. A request is different than a suggestion, okay?

It's like a prompt in Hetalia Kink meme. Be a little specific in what you wanna see. I need at least ten, since I won't be updating it the most regular.

SUGGEST. Really, it kinda helps finish a fic if someone's wants to see something in a fic, maybe I won't write it immediately...but it might make my brain click to make a story that features just one tiny suggestion.

So the point is, I'm at my most creative when there's inspiration (who isn't) and when I start on working on a fic with passion, chances are I also get inspiration for Unrequited.

No really, when I write fics it's usually in twos. I draw inspiration from both. XD

CHEERS.

Warnings: Dark pasts, Funny!NorBela, Sweet!NedGer, PruSpa, Nordic!Fluff, NorBela!Fluff.

-there's a flashback of what happened after 'Filler: Fixed-Broken'

Again, Hetalia's not mine if it is it'll be all crappy and nothing about history.

He was the Harbinger, the Nemesis, the Angel to bring his land's revenge.

Their had been rumors spawned by castle hands and kings across Europe that a man would visit the grandiose castles of countries that have won in wars against the Kingdom of Denmark.

They heard his footsteps, they saw the shadows that he made to move through halls, they could smell the rotten air of the damned that died from his hands, they saw blood painted on the walls.

But more horrifically, they saw their nation pale, bloodied and beaten. Their image of hope, almost dead, barely able to make out the gruesome details of their nights of torture.

People could only imagine a lumbering man hacking his axe with an evil smirk as if he was the devil himself. They could only imagine his callused hands snap their bones and close their throats as he bruised every inch of their bodies in savage rage.

But...

None of the victims ever corrected the wrongful claim of their people, for Denmark, Matthias—the person they were picturing in their heads—left the country scene abruptly since the end of the Thirty-Year War.

The Denmark that assaulted them never smiled in their pain. His hair was not pale gold but dead-white. His eyes weren't gleaming sapphires but deep blue like the abyss. And he wasn't built to haul ship or carcasses of huge horses back from war but he was still built for battles.

He was Lukas Bondevik. He was Denmark. He was King.

Norway was staring at his 'wholesome' glass of apple-carrot-bitter gourd slush that was prepared to make him shit toxic sludge that burned the walls of his rectum for the sake of his calming Nat's qualms about his health.

The episode he had had nothing to do with his health. He was in perfect shape, maybe not as robust as certain countries but he was in better shape than most.

This cleansing diet's been only death on his part. For the past two weeks, he was restrained from eating anything especially the pounds of home-made corned beef, bread, and simple pastries he made lovingly every morning at 3:00 am for his cafe.

"You're gonna starve if you don't drink it, Lu." Belarus, seasoned in cleansing her bowels, nudged his glass closer to him from across the table. They were on the sidewalk outside Lu's cafe, taking their break.

"...I'm Denmark..." Her boyfriend replied with his usual monotony and unusual ambiguity. His eyes turned vacant with eye bags that were black like ash.

"Sure. Whatever you say, now drink. You still have five days to go." She stated with a sigh, flipping through her thick issue of Vogue.

"NEJ!" Lukas roared which got the attention of the people passing them by. He stood up and knocked the two stemmed glasses away.

"What the hell is wrong with you!?" Nat shouted, smacking his arm with her fashion magazine.

"JEG DANMARK!" He continued, somehow pulling a rusty pitchfork from his jacket's side pockets.

"If you're making all this up just to get some real food into you, you have another thing coming!" She snarled, standing up as well.

He laughed darkly, smirk curved up sharply. "I must destroy those who have disgraced my country."

"Are you even listening to me?" She stood up, waving her hand in front of his unresponsive eyes.

"I must go to Tyksland!" He flared his jacket as if it were a cape as he regally left his girlfriend.

"What the fuck!? You're gonna leave me here?" She became hysterical, ditching her small apron as she clip-clopped her heels to follow him.

"LAD MIG UD!" The deranged roars of Matthias were heard around the whole castle. The strong bashing of metal made sleep impossible for the residences but what kept them awake more was the possibility of death in the hands of the monster if he ever got out.

(A/N: LET ME OUT!)

He was in a straight jacket that was cursed to handle his cold powers and immense strength. Scorching shackles held him by his ankles to forever negate his power to freeze the floor. He was thrown to an enchanted cellar whose iron door cursed with eternal flames was barely holding up against his headbutts.

"Soon, big brother. Very soon." Lukas muttered way above ground. He had just returned from visiting England after the battle of Copenhagen and he hoped that Arthur wasn't stupid enough to try and meddle with the North again.

He was far too weak back then to prevent Denmark's spiral down to insanity but now he had power. His sole purpose was to avenge his brother in any way he could. He didn't know who made him this way but he figured that any country that had won against Denmark from then on deserved to have their bones shattered and muscles torn. No one dared to even the score, even Arthur with all his sorcery couldn't defend himself against his wisdom of the dark arts and his extensive knowledge of anything that caused pain.

"Ah, Denmark...I see that you have tied lose ends yet again." The princess met him in the expansive hallway with a glass of water in her hand.

"Ja." Lukas answered curtly, a bloody pitch fork in hand as red blood dripped down his hands and to the floor. His eyes were blank, the light was shining through them as if they were nothing but hollow rings.

"Did you get him as good as your brother, Sweden?" She asked with a simple smile.

"...Sverige is a bastard who doesn't deserve to be called my brother...Only Danmark's my brother."

"...big words coming from you, Lukas..." She flipped her rich brown hair. She opened her clear blue eyes softly with a little bat as she looked outside the window pane.

"I have heard great stories of Denmark's conquests..." She inched closer to the glass. "But I've also heard better stories of Matthias and his heroism and charity passed from generation to generation within this spacious halls..."

"He may not be the same man he was before— I for one blame our impulse for greed and power..." She shrugged her shoulders. "But that doesn't mean that..." Her beautiful sapphires twinkled as bright as the stars in the sky.

"He won't be back to his chipper old self someday..." She smiled.

After two hundred years, he finally felt his once dead heart beat anew. For the first time, he felt hope again.

"I could say that the accounts of your brother's last battle wasn't the entire story..." She gracefully neared her country's representative by criss-crossing her legs. "There must've been more to it then just him simply losing. I have seen Spain in person and I have to tell you, something is not normal about him."

"I say that Sverige was not the mad abomination he was according to the tales..." She closed in, merely inches from his face. "But maybe someone made up a story to keep you from trusting him again."

"I say that accounts of your cruel nature have been inflated way out of proportion." Her delicate fingers ran across his defined chest.

"All I see is a man trying to find a way to keep himself together." She stood on the tip of her toes and gave one meaningful kiss. She parted, leaving Lukas shocked.

"...I hope you see that too, Norge..." She winked. Transfixed as she disappeared down the hall was Norway, fingers trailing his warming lips.

"One day..."

*KNOCK*KNOCK*KNOCK*

...

"Hello, Norway..um..." Germany—hair down, in a black wife beater and apron—looked confused with a glass Tupperware of baked potatoes.

...

"Belarus?" He—getting more perplexed acknowledged—the girl behind. "To what do I owe this wonderful surprise?"

"...YOU!" The northern nation who was an inch shorter, flicked the German's nose with his finger. Ludwig didn't even flinch though he was starting to find Lukas more irritating.

"You must pay for my lost from the Schleswig War." He explained, high and mighty.

"Don't you mean...Denmark's loss...?" Ludwig corrected unsurely.

"I AM DENMARK!"

"Okay...?" The buffer individual looked passed him and to his girl friend who shrugged her shoulders in a don't-ask-me manner.

"Why don't you come in and eat lunch with us? There's plenty to go around." Germany smiled uncharacteristically which made Belarus put her guard up respectively as she followed the bold Norway in.

"Wie was dat, mijn liefde?" Netherlands asked from the kitchen near south.

(A/N: Who was that, my love?)

"Norwegen und Weißrussland." Germany answered, closing the door and surpassing the two quickly to lead.

(A/N: Norway and Belarus.)

"Hmmm...?" The Dutch stepped out to the main hall in cargo pants and a tight white shirt. He had mittens on and a firm grip on a pan that was still hot enough to continue frying some wursts.

"Lunch." The bigger man gestured the two with a quiet sigh.

*AT LUDWIG'S DINING TABLE*

The kitchen was really modern looking with a stainless steel counter top that went nicely with the matching oven and varnished wood cabinet oval glass table for seven or eight had chairs with simple and sleek beams and chic black plastic head rest and a cushiony bottom which was a relief to Nat since she has been sitting on the airliner's hard cotton seat for a while.

Lukas, for the moment, acted normal enough. He was quiet as he devoured the whole pan of roast beef into his mouth, tearing up in joy.

Natalia took a small helping of the vegetarian option, a bowl of gazpacho. Her concentration kept on swinging from her happy-looking Norwegian to the comfortable lovers seated across the table.

Ludwig had Lars's hand over his while listening to each other's stories. Their conversation was filled with small conflicts that immediately dissolved into laughter. She has never seen the Dutch grin and flirt with his partner openly and the German raise his brows mischievously as he whispered dirty stuff into the other's ear.

"What?" Lars smirked. "I don't remember doing that on our date."

"Yes you do!" Ludwig poked his lover's chest in emphasis, leaning against him. "...I thought it was really sweet."

"I don't get why you always go back to our first date, you know?" The Dutch snickered. "Is that the only time I was sweet to you?" He fluttered his eyes and pouted his lips as he rested his head on his lover's broad shoulder.

"I tell you, Nat." Germany smiled at the younger girl. "Men. You have to find ways for them to stay sweet." He rolled his eyes as he pinched his lover by the nose.

The said girl started to laugh as Netherlands feigned his whimpering.

The next thirty minutes seemed to have been worth the two hour trip. The older men continued to make jokes and give life lessons to the couple, even if Lukas was the oldest among them (Speaking of which, Lukas was emptying the fridge.) She has never seen the two stoic men act like normal people before, they were always quiet, intimidating, business-first, and serious. It was funny how many jokes Ludwig told, no matter how corny and how Lars had the propensity to make a pun every thirty-seconds.

"I will now exact my revenge!" Norway disrupted Lars and his funny story involving his sister and a crate of fish.

"F-FOR DENMARK!"

The Scandinavian struggled to stand up with his bulging gut. He started to burp with every move and food was smeared all over his face. His crisp white uniform, his black tie and slacks were stained with sweat, oil and sauce.

"Not this again!" Belarus growled, loosening her matching black tie and pulling her pencil skirt down.

"If half of the stories that I heard were true..." Netherlands came in between the two towheads.

"I won't let you hurt Luddy..." He was back to his regular self, looking a foot taller and scary.

"Denemarken..."

Norway smirked, pulling out his magic pitch fork. "Nederland..."

"Everybody." Germany got in the middle of them with his hands pressed on each man's chest.

"Stop." He commanded, both men stepped away with anger in their faces.

"No one is going to make a mess in my house." He ordered, voice becoming just as loud as it usually was.

"Listen, Lukas, I don't know what's happening...but you ate me out of house and home and if you really want revenge for the Schleswig War, you better talk to Brother since I wasn't a part of that war." Ludwig stated calmly before swatting the little bit of sweat that formed between his brows.

...

The three were left staring at the Norwegian who was staring back. His eyes never left them as he marched to the table, got their plates and pigged out their left-overs. He made horrible gobbling and chewing noises and a weird raspy sound on the back of his throat.

"You do not know how sorry I am." Nat apologized, frantic under her straight face.

"No worries, Lud's worse..." Lars gave her a comforting rub up and down her arm.

"Liar." Ludwig gave him a playful push, blushing a little bit.

"Say, Belarus, wanna hear about the time we went to Fiji and..." Lars and Ludwig started to run around the girl with the German shouting his lover to shut up.

"I HAVE ACCOMPLISHED MY VENGEANCE!" Norway finished eating and pulled his girlfriend to follow him, stomach making disgusting sloshing sounds as he ran.

The main door shut leaving the two men alone, dumbfounded.

"...Take out?" The Dutch leaned against the younger German.

"Definitely."

It was the dead of night, the only time when Lukas was not busy and when Matthias was asleep.

The only light in the dark cellar was from his torch. Its warm light got reflected back and forth spires and huge quartz of ice that ran up the wall like a chandelier of clear, bluish diamonds lying on its side and frozen in its place against the wall. It was like a chaotic masterpiece with its intricate swirls of frost engraved within each coalescing crystal protrusion, glowing in the presence of the roaring flame, even concentrating the light to copy their meticulous prints against the weathered stone walls.

It almost looked like a throne room of ice and light and the king was Matthias, sleeping against the wall. He looked peaceful in spite of being chained to the floor and incapacitated by a straight jacket that disrupted his circulation.

It reminded Lukas of peaceful times when it was just him and his brothers for better or for worse. It reminded him of the numerous sacrifices Matthias made just to give them a life comfortable enough for them...but never for himself.

Never.

His thin lips made their way to the bleeding bruise on the Dane's forehead as salty tears stung his eyes.

"I-I failed you..." He whispered, pushing the blood-soaked hair away from his brother's face.

"I tried...I really did. I made sure that not one bone in their bodies weren't broken...I made sure to break them just as much as they broke you...isn't this what you want?" He sobbed, voice breaking and raspy.

"Please...come back...n-no one's ever gonna hurt you again." He begged, pulling on the larger man's restrictive jacket.

"I'm leaving tonight and no one's gonna take care of you! PLEASE BROR! PLEASE, DON'T LET THEM..."

The Dane's eyes flashed, hypnotizing blue in hue—illuminating through the pitch black.

"What? Take you to hell?"

His sinister laughs sounded like a demon watching someone getting torn up from the inside. His eyes were dark, not even the flame was able to reflect some light on them.

Lukas stepped back, accidentally dropping the scorching head of the torch fall on his brother's thigh.

"AAAARGGGHHH!" Denmark roared. "A-a...are yo-ou m-my new care...t-t-t-taker?" He asked shakily, trying to stay away whilst laughing like a maniac.

Matthias gritted his teeth as the fire ignited on his pants, twisting and kicking for minutes while his younger brother was petrified like stone.

"B-brother, I'm sorry!" He apologized, knees too stiff in fear to move closer or kneel in his crying.

He could see how the skin melted and how quickly the burned flesh turned into a patch of translucent ice, like a frozen lake, popping out the pale skin with a tinge of cold blue. His skin started to show glacial cracks of cool bluish-white like magnificent crystals were beneath them but the cracks glowed a vibrant electric blue within the oval patch of skin and muscle that had been cooked.

"B-brother?" Denmark asked, eyes looking sane for just a moment. Norway felt his heart race and his hopes fly high.

"You have a brother? Where?" He asked, looking aloud the dark room like a child finding his toy.

"I have four!" He added, holding up for toes, before falling on his back and filling his brother's ears yet again with insane laughter.

Winds started to blow and snow started to fall, the spires grew thicker and sharper as his brother nursed himself like a dog, nuzzling and kicking the cold patch of skin.

Lukas started to sob again, knees shaking, letting the smolder die until he saw nothing but darkness.

A green ball of fire rested on his hand, watching as his brother twitched and rocked himself until he slowly closed his eyes to sleep.

"I love you, okay?" He whispered. "We love you." He said again, choking in tears as he turned away.

He trekked back to the cellar door above as he tried to formulate his last words.

"...Måtte Gud vise deg veien..." He whispered with a pained smile, leaving the door open when he fled.

(A/N: May God show you the way...)

"W-what the fuck!?" Prussia ran his fingers through his hair, crushed as Norway started to empty their pantry in incredible speed.

"Now, now..." Spain, wearing his basketball jersey and briefs, gave him a power hug from behind. "Everything's fine, mi corazon." He hummed a soft lullaby which was taking its desired effect.

"...but he's eating everything!" Gilbert then tried to wiggle out of his lover's hold again. He tried to slip out his white burn-out jersey melange with Prussian emblem print, exposing his furry abs and his tight black boxers.

"VIOLENCE IS BAD!" Toni sounded like a complete child, wrapping his arms around his hot-blooded German every time he successfully wiggled out whilst Belarus slept face-down on their couch upon arriving.

"Just let me punch hi-" Prussia fell silent, eyes wide in shock.

Spain gave out a small sound of confusion with his exhale. He looked to the direction the other was staring at.

...

"DIOS MIO!" He fell silent afterwards, face looking hysterical—twisted like someone had just dipped their finger in his soup then wide like that one time when he saw his first whale penis (more like an anaconda).

The two looked in horror as Lu devoured a whole ham. They tried to push the sight of his unhinging jaws out their heads but they just could not look away. They saw his throat bulge and his ribcage expanded and they could've sworn they heard the ham fall into a pit of gastric juices.

*After twenty more minutes of explicit consumption and thirty minutes of the two staring horrified at nothing while the free-loading Norwegian was using their bathroom*

Norway lost all the pounds he gained from eating two German's out of house and home (technically, he ate Spain out of house and home).

He passed the two men who were cuddling each other in a dark corner, pupils like two black dots. He went to the sofa that had his lover snoring loudly. He picked her up in a bridal style and smiled softly, kissing her forehead, her cheek, then her lips.

Just as he was leaving, Gilbert frantically pushed his lover away and scrambled to stop the Norwegian.

Prussia stretched his arm, wanting to grab the man, but froze up when he turned around with his haunting eyes glued on him.

"S-stop...?"

His voice was very weak since being two inches shorter somehow made him feel so short. He shook his head, getting courage form within.

"W-why did you eat two months worth of corned beef!?" He said angrily.

"...vengeance for Schleswig..." Norway replied, head turned away.

...

The Prussian shook his head. "Look, if it happened during the Kalmar Union, I'd understand why you'd..." Out of habit, he brushed his hair up again with his hand.

"Take vengeance." He finger quoted. "But the one I won happened was like fifty years after, so what gives?" He crossed his fuller arms, hoping than his built would coax him even with their height difference.

...

Norway turned his head to gauge his soul through his eyes. It was like the Ring in HD quality. No, he was the new poster child of every single Japanese horror movie about a river demon-hybrid girl with a shit-ugly face. Prussia couldn't help but feel shivers running down his spine.

...

After a while it just turned awkward. Spain had gotten brave enough to hide behind Gil. He really tried to not stare back but Lukas was that kind of scary you want to stare back at.

The Norwegian took one step out the door and immediately bolted afterwards in incredible speed.

"GET BACK HERE!" Gil was about to sprint when Toni tackled him.

"VIOLENCE IS BAD!" He pouted much to the Prussian's annoyance since he couldn't help but melt to his lover's will.

"Fine." He muttered, getting a sweet kiss on the cheek from the other. He picked up the man that was an inch taller and about five pounds heavier. He smirked as the tanner man nuzzled against his chest.

"...now where were we?"

Norway ran, Iceland being dragged in confusion. He just got the text from Finland. He tried to look up the old Viennese buildings to coax his tears back.

He definitely wanted to be proven wrong. He wanted Sweden and Finland to give him hard, cold evidence that he's been wrong all a long. He wanted to eat a shitload of humble pie.

He didn't want to feel the presence of darkness whenever Denmark was around anymore. He didn't want that subtle feeling of danger that pushed him and the others away again. He didn't want to see the vile gleam in his happy, unknowing eyes.

...He just wanted to feel Denmark's hug again.

Was the darkness really gone?

"H-here we are!" Iceland tried to pull his brother back as he continued to drag him along the sidewalk. He wasn't as emotional since he already knew.

They ran down the stairs in the middle of the sidewalk leading to the underground pub where they were supposed to meet up in. Lukas pushed the green door open, silencing the small number of people inside the large bar with the ring of its bell.

He saw the awkward duo with the smaller man trying to pry out more details of Sweden's hidden love life.

'Wait...Berwald's seeing someone?'

The brothers made their way to the bar counter, getting noticed by the two.

"Hey, Lu!" Tino smiled which only irritated the older man. Suddenly, worry replaced his anger, seeing as his younger brother had tear-reddened eyes and nose.

"Where is h-"

"H-hej." The big Dane peeped, blushing red. He stood up, fixing his collar. He was shaking, unable to speak. His nose and eyes were red from crying. His icy blue eyes couldn't seem to focus on anything.

There wasn't anything odd that made Lukas's spine tingle. He couldn't sense the malevolent presence that has made Denmark act out unreasonably at times. Big brother had the same air he always had with him without the shadowy leech that only he could see but not necessarily the only one who could feel it.

Lukas bit his lower lip. Just seeing him like this was too good to be true. "Do you remember?"

Matthias was taken by surprise, looking scared—only nodding in response.

"Then you remember being locked up in a cellar? Do you remember how demented you were? Do you remember how many people you hurt? You've killed? How much we got hurt?" The shorter man looked at him heatedly, balling his fists. Hot tears were already streaming down his face in big drops.

"Ja."

"Do you remember almost drowning Emil? Or nearly snapping Berwald's head off? Or beating Tino up? Raping us? And all of the other fucking fucked up motherfucking things you did?"

"Ja." Matthias breathed out shakily, establishing eye contact with the dark eyes. "I even remember what I did to yer eyes."

Lukas gasped, feeling his knees wither. "Then what happened to you? Tell me." He crossed his arms, falling back to a wooden beam for unknowing support.

"I can't explain..." Denmark was having serious trouble getting his words out. "I can't explain everything now."

He couldn't tell them anything without breaking down or having another panic attack. All he wanted now was finally finding a way to move forward from all of this.

"But It's all my fault." The Dane added, cautiously taking a few steps forward.

"It's all my fault." He reiterated, combing the other's hair and rubbing his thumb across his cheek like how he used to. His rough and marked hands took the other's paler ones.

"Undsklyd." The eldest apologized voicelessly. It was as if only air came out of him but it meant so much. It was like the whole environment went light. It was like every single thing that enveloped Lukas in darkness was gone—he finally accepted that whatever plagued him had left.

"Y-you didn't have to apologize!" Norway yanked his hands away, rubbing his nose once with his fist. "I'm the one who has to say sorry!"

By then, Lukas was sobbing loudly like a child again. He hugged his brother tightly, wetting the red shirt with his salty tears. It should be weird that he was hugging a full-grown man made of solid muscle but all he feel was the comfort and warmth of nuzzling up to him just like when it was only the two of them and a family of giant ice wolves and sprites in a small jagged cottage made of ice, rocks, and a pile of leaves and fur.

"Bror!" He exclaimed, muffled by the huge chest. Warm arms crushed him tightly and above him was his older brother, beaming a huge smile.

"Yer gonna make me cry, ya know that?" Denmark started to sniffle, before yelping from being tackled head on by their other brothers who came in for a constricting embrace.

"N-now, let big bro breather breathe." He said, deprived of oxygen. "Yer not as small as ya used to."

Nat woke up feeling something soft beneath her, something warm wrapped around her, someone breathing softly against her neck.

She opened her groggy eyes. She recognized the four columns of their bedposts, carved with the most intricate flowers and leaflets by Matthias as some sort of welcome-to-the-family gift, the mahogany drawer with metal knobs, and the unmistakable scent of Lu's favorite cologne that stuck to the walls.

She noticed that she was wearing her grey baby doll shirt and some very stretchy shorts. She tried to sit up but Lu was hugging her tightly as usual.

Lu was wearing a grey wife-beater and sweatpants. His strong arms were crushing her waist, his toned chest was pressing against her side, and his nose was buried in her hair with his lips curled up softly and contently.

He started to stir in his sleep, silently groaning until he cracked one eye open. Their eyes met and he nuzzled closer.

"...remind me to never put you on a cleansing diet again..." Nat muttered also inching even closer.

"...duly noted." Lu answered, falling asleep almost immediately with a sleepy smile.

"You're a strange man, Bondevik." Nat whispered, petting his head before following his lover to sleep.