| Choice poem. |
| Found while going through my gallery. I wrote for shit two years ago (why did people watch me?), but this is one of the few that's wonderful. |


Crooked Did He Fly - 16He had just turned 16 and industry was booming all over Europe. It was especially true within Germany's territory because he put everything he had in him into his work. There wasn't much else to do, Prussia was gone more often than not in what he wouldn't admit was a desperate attempt to make an alliance with Russia to avoid a two-front attack. When asked how it was going, Prussia would say nothing aside from that Russia was 'very interesting'.Crooked Did He Fly - 16
He would nearly tear the paper writing in his diary at the end of the night, though.
As he'd been asked to, Germany went about working on building up his armed fleet. But, hon


Crooked Did He Fly - 14He'd been 10 before, and the world had been a lovely place.Crooked Did He Fly - 14
Prussia had a silky charm when he was focused upon diplomacy, and under his new boss's orders he managed to successfully isolate France with treaties instead of going to yet another war. It had been a satisfying 'fuck you' for all of the problems that France had caused over the years. And, as France whined and sat alone, Prussia had brought Germany along in relishing the alliances they could enjoy because of his verbal skills.
Germany found that his brother was an entirely different person when his battle injuries were allowed to heal, and when he was conten


Crooked Did He Fly - 8He was 8, and he had names to relearn. He had spent time with Hungary and Austria, France, Turkey, and Belgium. He'd spent his time with Russia, and Poland when his brother felt that he needed to. There was England once and a while, and England had little brothers called 'colonies'; though nobody really bothered to remember their names. There was Italy (two of them, right?), and Switzerland, and Norway the list went on and on.Crooked Did He Fly - 8
Almost all of them, though, were not to be trusted if you listened to his brother.
Speaking of, his brother was now Prussia; and suddenly all those whispers about a psychotic narcissist h


Crooked Did He Fly - 6Ludwig was 6, according to what his brother would tell people when they'd ask. And, evidently, he'd just turned it. It was indicated by the fact that Gilbert had changed the number he would mention, rather than anything concrete like a date. It meant that, when they went home, Ludwig's height would be marked on the wall. That was most certainly something to be proud of. His brother held growing taller and stronger at the same degree of importance as prayer, breathing, and eating.Crooked Did He Fly - 6
As he stood with his back to the wall, he stood on the balls of his feet in an effort to exaggerate the difference between one mark and another. The str


Crooked Did He Fly - 2The child before him was 2, or 3, or something (he never was good at placing ages). The Holy Roman Empire had collapsed and morphed into a cluster of dozens of warring tribes who wanted to unite on paper without giving up efforts to dominate over one another.Crooked Did He Fly - 2
Internal conflict left a child who could barely focus his eyes on something right before him. What it left was a child who was fiercely ill, and not experienced enough to understand that he should hide it in front of an observer. Especially when the observer was a battle-sculpted, callous nation who had never once hesitated to fight an enemy with every ounce of malice he had


Footprints in the Sand Ch. 2It was amazing the sort of drunkards that they surrounded themselves with, the two realized separately, silently, but simultaneously, as they made their way from the suites to the ground floor of the hotel. Not that either one of them was a stranger to the bottom of a bottle (or multiple bottles, for that matter), but they both were positive that they never acted this boisterously. Both knew the price of allowing oneself to become too impaired to fight back.Footprints in the Sand Ch. 2
Almost subconsciously, both mused over exactly how simple it would be to take over the entire world right then and there. But it was not the time or place for such thoughts,
by ~dark-zephyr
by ~joy-ang
| Please don't thank for favs and page views. You're welcome, but I'm going to hide it. :< |
--
Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
I'll fuck you with a rake. ~ Shane Dawson xDD
--
head pillowed on my arm
such affection for myself
and this smoky moon
- Yosa Buson
--
Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
I'll fuck you with a rake. ~ Shane Dawson xDD
Prussia. From tonight.
--
head pillowed on my arm
such affection for myself
and this smoky moon
- Yosa Buson
awesomness : DD
--
Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
I'll fuck you with a rake. ~ Shane Dawson xDD
Previous Page12345...Next Page