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engportevents · 10 months

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Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

Final Chapter: I am (spanish version)

@engportevents

Thanks for reading this story until the end! see you in the next journey! Thanks to the amazing @imdedlikeu for helping me with the translation~

As soon as they stepped onto the grounds of Lightning Wasteland, Arthur jumped off the dragon's back before it touched down. As if guessing what was going to happen, the draconic form vanished a few meters before landing, and the earth touched only the exhausted human form of Gabriel, who was left on his hands and knees in the grass.

"That was splendid, my love!" celebrated the british, coming to help him "Are you-?"

The next thing Arthur received was a hard punch, turning his face to the side.

"I'm fucking furious!" Portugal replied “We could have made a horrible mistake! Do you know what would have happened if those phases had touched us? You're supposed to know the most about these things, Kirkland!"

"First of all … OUCH!" he held his cheek with an offended gesture “And second, whether I know, it does not make me an expert. It could fail."

"You can’t just say it would have failed, not when it comes to all of our mortal children" he snapped "Are you out of your mind!?"

"Stop complaining" he made a gesture. “Nothing happened."

He walked towards the roots of the Holy Hawthorn, sitting on them. Gabriel followed him and sat next to him, letting the branches cover them of the green sun, while the petals seemed to want to bathe them with their swaying.

“Ugh!” the man snorted, annoyed. "Stop using that condescending tone with me, or I'll beat the crap out of you, Arthur Kirkland."

“Okay, okay…” He held up his hands in surrender. “Don't be mad, Gabe. Enjoy the scenery.”

Portugal frowned at him, but agreed. Both of them, naked like two Adams in an Eden, together contemplated the horizon in silence for a while, while listening to the distant sounds of the Empty Sea and the howling of the winds that came from somewhere, moving the flowers that cushioned the ground under their bare feet.

"What an anniversary, is this your big gift?" he asked suddenly, to finish purging his misgivings. Arthur closed his eyes and smiled.

"Yes, it is an opportunity."

"Opportunity? Of what?"

“Of real peace,” he began, “. Serenity. The human world conditions us, binds us, shapes us and transforms us. We grow and change with our children, and that's okay, because it's the order of things. But each century that passes, each minute that we exist, I have noticed in our brothers, our cousins, our neighbors, friends and enemies, parents and children and lovers, in everyone, that we are wearing ourselves out. That the syndrome of Les Fleur du mal is upon us, and I don't want it to knock on our door; much less, our bed.”

The Englishman turned to see him and took his hands; his voice full of soft honesty, that which he rarely showed with anyone.

“I was anxious when I woke up today with that feeling of boredom. The Baudelaire monster that Bonnefoy tormented me with, which I made fun of it when he expressed his concern few years ago,” his mouth twisted. “What will become of us, immortal beings, when we simply get bored with existing?”

"That would be... counterproductive and dangerous."

“I panicked when I woke up, and stayed locked in that bathroom, trying to redefine myself in front of the mirror; but it only got worse, and it scared me even more. I thought it was because of our anniversary, but it's me," he confessed. So I thought that on these dates, where we feel more strongly what unites us, perhaps we needed a new motivation; to remember that we shouldn’t feel tedious, because our steps together are eternal, and our curiosity too," he smiled at him. “So we can have new experiences; even if it is an inner journey towards ourselves. We are so extensive that we can spread out and do just that, do you understand?”

Portugal listened to him with an good-natured seriousness, but attentive to each intonation and pause.

“I don't understand why you didn't tell me in the human world. We could have talked about it."

“You know it's not my style, Gabe. I decided to take the most complicated path... therefore, the most spontaneous and fun. Everyone thinks I'm a bitter old man with a Kantian routine. You, Francis, Kiku and Alfred know better. The only ones on the entire planet who know me for who I am… aside from my brothers," he touched his chest "I will never stop being Peter Pan, and that solace allows me to continue to exist without destroying everything, erasing the shadow of weariness in my path. Because I still see the light and new things to discover in the future, in the hearts of my people" he caressed his hands "I don't want you to experience that feeling, and to be reminded that beyond everything, we will always have adventures to live together. Like this one"

Gabriel stared into the horizon, smoothing his hair with one hand, and sighed.

“You … are unbelievable. We almost got caught up by our phases to merge and we traveled to the Dream World in our current forms, alerting the entire planet, only to get to the point where we can never be bored together. Is that message a gift?” He looked at him, between resigned and amused.

"You can't tell me it wasn't original, right?" Emerald green eyes lit up and he raised his thick eyebrows. “Also, it's nice to stretch your paws here. Almost all of us tend to forget that every once-in-a-while we should visit this place and reset, remember who we once were, to know who we will be.’

"Can that be known, querido?" Gabriel looked at him curiously. "We do not have the gift of oracles."

"No, but it's always good to reinforce the structure," he caressed the other's legs sympathetically, he had no scars on that plain, “where you’re standing. It helps a lot when everything seems to lose meaning under pressure.”

"Speaking of pressure... I feel uncomfortable here" he looked up, the sky now red between the white thorns. “Like it's not the right thing to do."

“It’s not the correct way. I built the Lightning Wasteland to be reached only by our avatar forms,” he said carefully. “We can change freely and all can be on this ground. But the reality is that the oldest ones have always remained here, together.”

Gabriel paused for a moment, his eyes widening.

"That's why the alliance was able to exist continuously," he realized. "Because it started in the Emerald Forest, but you used your Ancient Magic and laid it apart on this plain, and these phases-”

“- Who were entwined at our wedding may remain separate from the others, and from the hardships of the Great Gray Castle. Yes,” Arthur completed with a smile. “That's partially why our kids were able to hold her despite the whole history” he held the other’s hands, " For this is what is truly immortal and permanent: the love I have for you.”

Gabriel’s eyes filled with tears that did not spill, but he smiled as he rarely did in the human world. He took the pale hands and pressed them against his chest with force.

“We may never know how our story will continue; if it ends, or is transformed. However, if there's something my Permanent Self knows, it’s that this is real. You are a part of me" Portugal smiled more ". Like those ancient words…”

"Like those ancient words" the Englishman repeated, feeling emotional as well. "I still remember them."

Both sat straight, and both recited, whispering like a secret

I am your reflection, and you are mine. This is the vow of the Old Oaths, until the White Lady leads us to the Dance of Endings.

Eu sou o seu reflexo e você é o meu. Este é o voto dos Antigos Juramentos, até que a Dama Branca nos conduza à Dança dos Finais.

With their hands entwined, their foreheads pressed together and their eyes closed, the petals that fell from the bush wrapped them in a whirlpool that stretched as they changed shape. The blue dragon appeared sitting among the roots, and next to it, a greenish tiger of colossal size, with lightning eyes and static in its paws, leaned on the great reptile's side, purring thunders. There, they both closed their eyes and leaned on each other; sleeping at different times, between eternity and a nap.

They would have time to return to the human world, celebrate with their loved ones and see once again how that eternal love was refracted in the ideas of the people of both nations. Now all that remained was to remember what was almost always forgotten: that they had molded each other forever, and that made their existence such; from the Roman province, brother of Hispania and the emerald-eyed rabbit of the Breton fields, to the largest and most powerful Empires in the West, with their eyes set on the future.

Because in the end, in a way, we are also what others see of us.

----THE END----

#hetalia #aph portugal #aph england #engport #porteng #engportweek #hws england #hws portugal

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engportevents · 11 months

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The Pirate and the Cavalheiro

So I tried on aquarels, my old enemy and this is the sixth version of the pirate AU with @greengreekeyes25. I did a coupled-portrait for the handsome pair! 100% handmade~

This time they grew old and hot and they met 20 years later, after their first secret romance.

Hope you like it~

I've got timelapsings of both so stay tuned! @engportevents

#hetalia #aph portugal #engport #aph england #porteng #hws portugal #hwsportugal #hws england #piratalia #hetalia pirate

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engportevents · 11 months

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Chapter 1 Chapter 2

Chapter 3

4. The Lightning Wasteland (Spanish version here)

@engportevents

The sky was pink and the mountains orange, and when the wind passed coming from a black void, it became an iridescent blue; tall grasslands up to the waist of an adult, but clearly untouched by any human. Virgin and natural.

It was a narrow place with its limits, since its white edges fell violently vertically towards nothingness, from which seemed to come a noise similar to the waves of the sea that crashed against white cliffs; even whiter than those that existed in the Earth dimension.

It was like a primitive projection of the same soil they inhabited and had left, to cross here. The directions were the same, the geographical forms too; it changed the logic of time and physics, but it made everything quite recognizable. Especially since in that place the connections were tangible; and Arthur was being pulled as if by a very long invisible umbilical cord, happy to return to his womb.

“Come, get up.”

There was no need to move the mouth the way they do in the mortal realm. Their thoughts were more powerful and it was the true way of communication on that side.

"Where are we?"

Gabriel stood up and noticed his nakedness, like that of his partner. The only difference between their appearances in the mortal world was that their eyes seemed to emanate light from within, and their fibers became a little more visible, revealing their skin. In addition, the blonde had blue Pictish markings on his body, in the form of complex drawings that had already lost their meaning over time.

"On the border of the Emerald Forest," said Arthur, pointing north. "Beyond those hills begins Fairyland."

Gabriel turned on his heel, confused.

“Is there more than the forest on the island? You said that all this was your continent.”

"Of course there's more, don't you remember?"

England pointed to the west, and among the natural fog of the area, which seemed to be the gateway to the human world, a very distant structure could be seen, in the shape of several superimposed towers.

"The Great Gray Castle" whispered Portugal, looking towards said direction "Where all the European kingdoms were born"

Arthur then pointed south, where there seemed to be other intersecting mountains farther away.

The hills, which seemed to almost be floating by themselves, had a huge bush with kilometer-long roots, which covered all the space that could be seen. It was not very tall but it was voluminous in leaves; bone-colored, as if petrified. But each part of its branches were covered in flowers, loaded with small cream-colored petals, which fell off like drops and danced in the air that passed them, in large numbers. And its branches, circular and entangled in themselves, protected the small fruits with sharp and long thorns along their entire length.

“The Holy Hawthorn” whispered Portugal, taking a few steps forward. “The last drop of light of Uriel, my godfather. It’s..."

"The Lightning Wasteland."

Evoking that name changed the landscape. The sky turned green and the winds blew in the direction of the floating islet, between the narrow land they stood on and what seemed to be the beginning of Europe, between the Iberian zone and Belgium.

"This..." Port took a few more steps, astonished "I thought it had disappeared."

"Why would it, dear?" Arthur walked over and stood next to him. "Actually, they’re relieved that you remember now."

"How is it still there? I know what you had to do to create it.”

“I did what was necessary. Even though I was very young, it was one of the brightest ideas I had in my life.”

"Also the most irrational..." replied the brunette, looking at him out of the corner of his eye, and the blonde puffed out his chest, with that big smile that victors emanated before their victories.

“That is precisely why I am proud of it. Their livelihood is still alive." Bright eyes looking at the others, "I tore out a piece of the Great Gray Castle to knead the earth, and plant its thorny seed to hold firm forever, individualized from all else."

"You almost disintegrated yourself in the audacity."

"It was worth it. It’s still here, precisely, because it was built with my love. A love that has never ceased." Gabriel suddenly turned to better see him "It is the reason why it continues to exist. Because I can lie about anything to the universe and the universe will believe me; but I never stopped loving you, Gabriel Dos Anjos, never."

“Arthur...”

He wanted to kiss him, on an impulse of his human rationality. But, they were nothing there, and everything. And so...

“We can’t be here, at this deep level” recalled Portugal, coming out of his own emotion. “We are the main form; and if we don't move, the other facets will start closing in on us.”

"Are you afraid of that?" England looked at him curiously, and the other rolled his eyes.

"I’m not afraid. But they can't all be stacked in the same place; they’ll disturb us.”

"It's true," the blonde conceded. “That is why we must go quickly to the Lighting Wasteland”

"But... how will we do it?" The Lusitanian looked forward again "It seems to be floating in the mid air."

"It's floating, yes, like a boat in the ocean" England smiled "I did it that way on purpose. It can only be accessed in one way: flying"

"Flying?" Gabriel looked at him suddenly "We can't fly!"

"I can’t, but you can."

Portugal stopped, a great pain in his temple made him shake his head with concern. He recognized the feeling; its other forms, the facets throughout its history and centuries, that made it up and had once been the main body of the country's vessel, were drawing closer, drawn like moths to the light. And for all of them to get out of their place and get closer was not the idyllic state that a Nation could have as such; above all, considering that he needed coherence so that his people were in the same place from which they left and to which they returned in their homes.

"We have to go, now." the man said worriedly. The blonde then reached for his ear, scratching it annoyed.

"Yes, they’re coming" he sighed tiredly and somewhat indifferently. “Surely the Pirate will want to know how to navigate the Empty Sea and fail… again.”

“How am I supposed to fly!? I don't know how to fly." The brunette looked at him desperately, holding his hair that fluttered in the wind.

"Not with that body, of course."

Gabriel paused for a moment, until he realized what he was suggesting.

"You must be kidding, Artinho."

"Of course not! Here everything is possible. You only have to think of your original form; as if you imagined it on the human plane” he made a gesture. "I assure you that you will succeed."

"But-!"

Louder noises began to mobilize the meadow hills behind them. Steps of various types; sighs, noises, groans, screams and laughter.

"Here they come, and they are deploying amongst themselves," the blonde deduced. "Maybe the more solid ones will reach us, I don't know" he scratched his chin. “I lost the motivation to come and see them.”

“Arthur!I can’t concentrate enough to do this! I haven't done it in hundreds of years."

“Think fast, marido” he squinted, “Or this will become a problem in a few minutes.”

"I-!"

The noise grew shriller, and the sky turned purple, beginning to thunder without a storm.

“Caralho, Arthur! You- you’re having fun with this, aren’t you?”

"I know you can do it! It's like taking a bicycle again after a lifetime without riding on one; muscle memory, the body remembers right away.”

The noise became annoying alongside the flashes in the sky, which looked like horizontal lightning.

"That's a stupid comparison!" raised his voice.

“Oh Arthur~ Where are you, you bourgeois rat? I have a gift for you.”

“I also want some…”

Behind them, two figures began to take shape among the wind-swaying grass. They were copies of them but dressed in extravagant ways, looking at them heavily.

“What are you doing here, modern forms? You’re far from home.”

“Perhaps they want to lend us the continent for a while. It's been a long time since we crossed the Bridge.”

The newcomers laughed together in a metallic voice, as if canned somewhere. As they approached, one drew a long golden scimitar, the other two silver and emerald pistols. They walked with a circular gait, swaying their hips as if they were dizzy, but it was the forging of their feet, raised in the swaying of the ships that they’d sailed at sea.

"How are you, Tiger of the Seven Seas?" Arthur turned to him calmly, "You’re active today."

"I won't waste an opportunity like this, Sir Arthur Kirkland." the pirate captain whispered, holding up his wide-brimmed black hat, while its feathers flew along with his red jacket in the wind.

"That much is clear, and you came with the Golden Ottoman Gypsy Thief" he greeted the other, who gave him a half smile.

"I’m the best navigator in the entire Dream World, cari," the brunette buccaneer answered. “Finding you was child's play.”

"I know. And you know as well as I do that it’s not prudent for you to stray from your plains or your seas, gentlemen."

“Nor you from yours, modern form... for that reason, we came to take advantage of your absence, like the good criminals that we are.”

As they got closer, Gabriel noticed that Arthur was looking at them calmly, facing them without moving - much more used to seeing them head-on. Then, he realized: he was buying him some time. Because if their copies managed to touch them in this place, it could mean a fusion that would be reflected in the human world anachronistically... and it would not be pleasant at all.

“I would love to stay and chat with you and update you, but we have a short stay due to scheduling, and we must leave now.” Kirkland smirked.

“Where? You have no place to escape to here.” the Gypsy scolded. “You don't even know where you are.”.

“Oh, we know perfectly well. However, we won't be stepping on anything else while we’re here.”

On the next step from the clones from their Pirating Era, the earth trembled slightly under their feet; the mist that seemed to overshadow the entire environment dispersed from the air and swirled behind the blond, like a kind of whirlwind that started small and grew with consistency and shape. When the vortex absorbed the air currents in its favor, it began to rise upwards, before the astonished eyes of their clones who had never seen anything like it.

“What the hell is that?!” The English pirate asked suspiciously, pointing with his sword. “Is it a spell, modern form?”

"No. It is the power of a dominant clone, Tiger."

Before they could say anything else, a roar seemed to stop the winds; taking the breath of the two pirates, who looked up in astonishment.

From behind the mist a gigantic figure loomed, rearing up on its full form, looking down with its aquamarine eyes.

"Is that... is that me?" asked the Gypsy, astonished. England smirked.

“Yes and no, gypsy. We'd love to philosophize about it but, like I said, we've got things to do,” Arthur said with a haughty nod. “My husband and I must leave now."

Out of the wind-swept mists a gigantic four-legged dragon was seen, sitting beside England’s form. It was more than five meters high and wide, with membranous wings and blue scales, iridescent to green and gold according to the reflections of light. It blew smoke from its snout, staring down at them.

"Marido," the creature's hoarse voice whispered, shaking its head and tail restlessly. “Let's go now."

"Of course, darling."

The dragon spread his wings several meters to the sides, in a stretching position. He leaned in slightly and Arthur climbed onto his neck and sat between his shoulder blades. In the next second, despite its large body, the serpent flapped its wings and took off into the air with great speed.

“Oh no! You won't get away this time!”

The British pirate pointed his pistol into the air as the dragon spun for momentum and launched. The shots grazed the Englishman's temple, whistling near the dragon's ear.

"I told you, riding a bike!" Arthur yelled into the air, slapping his husband on the back of the neck. "I knew you'd remember."

"Close mouth" the creature answered categorically, while they flew at full speed.

In a matter of seconds, the Empty Sea was visible behind the white hills and, a while later, the Holy Hawthorn was present on that piece of floating island; there, where clearly only a being like Portugal could reach.

#hetalia #aph portugal #aph england #engport #porteng #hws england #hws portugal

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engportevents · 11 months

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D1 for engport 👀

yyyyyyyes yes yes yes

pose meme

#porteng #hws england #hws portugal #hetalia #hetalia fanart #engport #aph england

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engportevents · 11 months

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I agree

not enough chav arthur if u ask me

#I mean that’s what brits actually look like #why is he so baby gurl #arthur kirkland #hetalia #hws england #aph england

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engportevents · 11 months

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@engportevents

3. Your best version

Spanish version

Windsor.

That was undoubtedly the first stone upon stones that the Englishman could call "home." Although at first there had been only two towers and a small wall, over the centuries, technology and the importance of existence, Windsor gradually became a region in itself, covering hectares of extension in both buildings and complexes, roads, fields, hunting grounds, rural zones and urban areas.

It had been the place of birth and death of almost all the sovereigns of the nation, and was the undisputed home of the youngest of the Kirklands for many centuries, until the evolution of the world caused him to move with the royal family to new residences; but they always returned, inevitably to the same place, with some new excuse that only showed how deep the roots and the blue blood of their people had, connected beyond the obvious.

Its existence was so important and powerful that the castle, along with the Emerald Bastion in Ireland and Stonehenge in Scotland, were the only structures that were also transfigured in the Dreamworld; for its force in human history was such, that it refracted like the image of a mirror. Points so powerful that they were half of the complex called the Great Gray Castle, one of the most important spiritual structural bases in the West.

“Here we are…”

For this, they had to navigate much deeper than they usually did, conscious in reality with their humanoid skins. And a previous step.

"Meu Deus..."

Gabriel’s steps were light as he made his way down the carpeted hallway, until he was facing the leaves at the entrance to the room. Arthur looked at the guard in the background and gestured for them to spread out a bit; he took a key that no longer belonged to that time, from his pocket. In a quick gesture he opened the old but well-preserved wooden doors, with the original engravings that the couple remembered, stretching out his arms and sliding the leaves backwards.

“The door…”

"The same one," the blond smiled amused. “They’re the passage to the Christian paradise we chose back then, when inexperience made us more tense than we should have been.”

"Well, I was a little older and you had just gotten used to functioning on your own, after learning from Francis. It was quite a challenge for you.”

“Of course.” he smiled tenderly. “It was quite an adventure. But there was time for me to prepare this one for you.”

"It's true." He looked at him for a second. “What's more, I remember it took three tries to make this door, because it never reached the palace intact; something occured and the door arrived broken.”

“Ah yes, all the tension activated my magic; those poor souls took quite the scare” he laughed with a hint of bitterness. “ But after that I learned to control it…”

"... to use conscientiously."

“... to use it conscientiously, yes.”

The brunette smiled, a hint of sarcasm on his lips, and returned to the door, giving it a onceover before entering. He remembered the craftsman who had carved the doors, on days full of joy and bewilderment. He had come over to show off the idea, dirty and nervous, between stern knights in silver armor. And it was Portugal himself who chose him.

For some reason, all the descendants of that craftsman still had a connection to the Royal British Family to present day, offering their services at more sophisticated levels.

"It's like a time travel, marido," he admited, looking all over the room. “It's maravilhoso.”

"That's why I wanted to bring you, because of the expression on your face. I love it.”

Gabriel turned and smiled at him. They continued the tour, walking slowly between the corridors and the decorations of each corner; carding his fingers between some things, both melancholy and pride.

The entire wing had been planned out when the alliance was announced, and built up a couple of years later. With a view of the Chapel of Saint George where they had been married, passing through the red room and the white drawing room, the old bedroom had been covered, decorated and then painted with blues and ochres, because Gabriel liked marine colors, replacing the reds a young Arthur had preffered.

The huge windows had been conserved, and through time they had added heavy curtains that let the light in. On the opposite side, facing north, were three huge standing mirrors with their own vanity table, two internal bathrooms, two work desks, a loveseat, a common library against the wall, two closets with walking room to change, recreation tables close to the door and a large piece of furniture that kept specific glassware for the refined alcohol stored in it, with its glasses and glasses gifted from all the courts of the world.

The bed, next to it, was still as immense as the first, with its dark oak colored carved headboard and high footboards; lined with white and blue velvet curtains, held in place by long golden cords.

In front of it, the walls were a pewter blue and the ceiling white, with hanging gold decorations. Saint George, patron saint of both nations, was painted on the ceiling just like a silhouette, whose sword pointed to the heraldic shields of both houses over the fireplace that was on one of the walls.

The metal scale ornaments showed who this room belonged to, and why entire generations of humans were never allowed to be there.

“Everything looks the same as I remember.” Portugal walked in, England closed the door behind.

“I wanted to keep it this way. With all the happy and bitter memories.” the blonde spoke, his hands were in his pocket. “I did not want to skip over any details, it is not intended to be a fantasy.”

“Yes, I can sense it in the air.” The Portuguese looked at him sideways, while looking over the base of the steel shields on the wall, with a melancholic look.

“We made love in front of the fire many times, on the stone floor and fur rugs, with those sea storms the winter brought and cooled the whole room.”

"And on the other hand, overwhelmed by the summer heat, we argued much more when we were in bed." continued Gabriel. “We did everything backwards.”

"It was the charm of the marriage." Arthur walked towards him.

Gabriel smiled sadly when, after kissing his husband's hand, his eyes of that strange aquamarine went to a corner, landing on one of the tables near the room's central library.

“There’s where you yelled at me for the first time, I remember, and you threatened to go get our alliance act and tear it up with your own hands, condemning its writing to a hellish fire.”

Arthur blushed violently, looking to the side.

“... I said that?”

"You were angry. You found the letters that Antonio's king had with mine, and you considered it an infidelity in, what you felt, it was monogamy. You were hurt and jealous, and that hit you like an anvil.”

“Yeah, I'm not specifically proud of my reactions in the first decade. However, you didn't reproach me for that behavior afterwards, because you knew it was based on personal stupidity.”

“It wasn’t. You were young, you were scared and you were afraid that I would leave you. But I knew that I loved you and that it wouldn’t happen.”

"Well, there's the age difference," the other pointed out, with a hint of amusement. “You were already more on your feet. I had just stopped being a wild rabbit that Bonnefoy had tamed, wearing a metal armor that was too big for me at our wedding.”

Gabriel laughed slowly.

“It's part of your charm.” he kissed his forehead affectionately, letting go to continue the tour of the room, reviewing each object and piece of furniture, until the turn led him to the foot of the bed. “But you didn’t bring me here to remember our rights and wrongs."

"No, of course," he answered, walking towards him.

"Then, my dear husband, I look forward to hearing from you what you want to do here."

Arthur took his hand and lead him to sit on white feather padding, leaving him on the edge. Then he knelt on the ground and rested his elbows on the other's knees, getting between his legs and looking up at him with the expression of an anxious child.

“By my command, his place preserves all the things that we have gone through in our history. Only a few creatures that still walk the Earth can say that they have experienced what we have, together.” His tone lowered, showing solemnity. “And although time and sea have sometimes distanced us; wars or famines were only breaks from what really unites us.” he took the other’s hands and left the one that tied the weeding ring on top. "Something much deeper than vows in this reality."

"We can't go directly to the Dreamworld," replied the dark-haired man, catching on the intention. “You’ve taught me that you have to go in phases. Human reality is far away.”

“Not from here; in this bubble in which I keep the memories condensed on the walls, the memories on the floor and still drawn in the inks of the library books, witnesses of our time together, it will allow us to travel there at that level of depth and in full consciousness.”

"... So we don't need an ecstatic state to find it?"

The Englishman blinked suddenly, letting go of the hand and pouting childishly.

"...Hey, don't mock me, I do want to fuck you."

Portugal's laugh was as unexpected as well received. It was contagious, and dissipated the tension the conversation gave them.

"Well, that's really a way to get back to the present," he smiled mockingly, the freckles on the nose more visible due to the blush. Gabriel brushed the blond bangs back with his fingers, uncovering the forehead that always was unnoticed by the hair and his thick eyebrows.

"Did I ask a question outside of the lesson, professor witch?"

"It's clear that you don't pay attention" he raised an eyebrow, following the game “. So I'll give you a … practical lesson.”

Taken advantage of by the position, Arthur rose to his feet and leaned over Gabriel, pushing him under himself and laying him down on the bed. He supported all his weight, one that Gabriel received with a big smile, hugging him from behind and seeking his mouth to deepen a long kiss.

"Mmh, amor..."

“Relax, I'll lead… ”

Pale hands traveled to the sides of the other's torso, beginning to undo the buttons and push the fabric. The tanned hands undid the belt and released the trousers, opening the shirt more. Arms stretched out and both legs spread, making the other's work easier with a coordination that left no doubt for how long they had been lovers, between the intense kisses that sought to bite and get deeper.

"Ah! Arthur…”

"We'll take it slow, okay? Seeing you naked is a problem right now, my control begins to break.”

“Bem.”

The Lusitanian raised his arms, while the Briton finished undressing him. A sidelong look and a complicit smile accompanied the silent acts, until Portugal was completely naked.

“You know, Ludwig told me this is a fetish.” he pointed himself out, still dressed. “I think we have nothing left to try, however. Still, seeing you like that makes me—“

"Marido, you're rambling again," he snapped his fingers at him, amused. “You said you were going to go for a practical lesson, but don't take it too literally.”

"Is that a bossy tone I'm hearing?" Arthur feigned an offended question, while Gabriel spread his legs, fully exposing himself against the head of the bed, tucked between the pillows.

"I'm a king, what did you expect from me? Begging?” He smiled maliciously, “You must serve me. It is your conjugal duty, especially in our bed.”

Still dressed, the blond crawled over to the other, caressing the knees and lowering his hands to the huge scars on the thighs of both legs, pressing them. The brunette's reaction was reflected on a sigh and his growing erection.

“Damn the moon that guided my path to ever cross your own, gypsy. You only get me turned on.”

“Everything turns you on, Arthur. You are a pervert with beautiful eyes.” He rose his brows. “Stop making excuses about my so-called luring sorcery.”

“It’s real; I could only be comfortable with another witch, and here you are, giving me orders.”

"Are you going to fuck me or not?"

England applies pressure onto the scars, making the other moan loudly.

“I said we’d go slow, my dear husband.”

“Mhm… I’m getting desperate, do something before I go insane and stop listening to you.”

“As you wish.”

Arthur leans down onto the other’s hips, taking the hard member into his mouth. The skillful mouth made the lusitanian bang their head against the headboard of the bed, raising his eyes to the ceiling, half closed. Moans built up in his throat and he held onto the wooden bedposts, while his partner’s dominance made him feel like an anvil.

“Arthur!”

“Give yourself to me the way I do to you, no conditions.” The other asked for, “The way we did when we first made our vows. Just like that time…”

“Sim, sim.”

Arthur undoubtedly showed a great power; perhaps the most powerful nation in Western Europe, even with all its setbacks. But there was no action or comment from him that went unnoticed by anyone in the world; from a caress to a red button that he pressed, or how many cubes of sugar the ideal tea should contain.

Greece was right in thinking that his existence generated tidal waves; some that maximized his husband's bodily pleasure, found in the warmth of his mouth. Something that perhaps only a couple would endure and that would kill a mortal with a heart attack.

When the blonde spread the tanned legs with false kindness, holding them by the knees, the noises coming from his mouth were more obscene, causing a more intense arousal. Little by little, every soft word, etiquette rule, or dress code fell apart, as each piece of clothing was ripped open, a button broken off, and a zipper undone.

“Let me see you.”

Arthur kissed him again, letting the wandering hands continue their work. He was half dressed, and beneath him was Portugal, naked and ready. Pausing for a moment to caress the edges of his face, moving gently down his shoulders, arms, chest, waist, and thighs.

“This is your best version.” He whispered against Port’s lips, focused on the other’s pupils.

“Esta é a sua melhor versão.” Portugal repeated, reaching for the other’s hands with his own and interlocking his fingers.

They smiled at each other, conjuring up an old ritual they’d always shared. Something the old tribal women from here and there, between the Calé and the Celts, had taught them over time. Something that evoked a recognition among creatures conceived like those; long-lived and almost infinite, with thousands of folded sides in many dimensions. This way, they focused on a single form: the one that brought together a bit of all of them, and made it plausible to channel any quality of the other sides; since it was the most powerful, tangible and consistent.

The human form.

A breeze from nowhere blew gently into the room, bringing with it a strong scent of roses. The emerald eyes on Portugal seemed to shine in the soft gloom of the room. The answer was immediate: the pupils of a strange-green sea seemed to lighten up just a little, and a wave of lavender appeared around them. A brightness that called to another, in many places at once. Both smells could be felt and seen, surrounding and enveloping them like cocoons.

"You look beautiful like this, the real you." Gabriel whispered, obsessed by the vision above him. The blond smiled lazily.

“Then you should hold me closer, dearest, because for this trip I am the channel through which you must pass.”

"Oh, must I... ?"

“Indeed. That's why I prepared you with my mouth before.” he raised his thick eyebrows.

"Well, I won't deny that it's a pleasant surprise." Portugal laughed slowly, still caressing the pale skin. It’s been a long time since it was my turn.”

“It's your luck'ey day, mate. I’m not complaining too much either” he shrugged. “It’s always a pleasure when we switch”

“Bem! Someone was in the mood and didn't tell me.”

The blond laughed slowly and then positioned himself over Gabriel, allowing his hands to relax the sensitive skin, in ascending and descending all over his body. Eyes closed and a lazy smile, Arthur let himself settle down, until the warm hands on his cheeks made him see his lover’s face again.

"Ready to ride?"

“Yes.”

Arthur rested his hands onto the other's chest, deep kiss to hide his moaning. The Portuguese's hands found his pale waist and beyond, touching his ass to hold tightly and tenderly to make the ride easier.

“Ngh!”

“Just relax.”

After a moment everything became more gentle and the fingers more inquisitive. Arthur bit his lip, smiling and running his tongue over his mouth, anticipating the oncoming pleasure when he felt the tip of the other’s member at his entrance.

“Stop overthinking, Gabe, you’re making me anxious.”

“That’s the idea.”

Suddenly, Portugal sank him down quickly, and provoked in Arthur a lewd cry that turned into laughter and then a deep groan.

"Aaah yes! This is what I wanted! You're perfect.” Kirkland sat down better, biting his lip and facing towards the ceiling with half-closed eyes. “Just a little more... a little-“

“Mhh!” Gabriel frowned at the tightness, but the next thrust pushed him fully into his partner, sighing with relief and pleasure.

The breeze was more intense between them, the scent of roses and lavenders sweeter, until everything began to mix and instead of wisps of dust in the air, threads of light began to form, like spider webs that could barely be seen when hit by the sun; and it stopped, shining like gold. And again. And again.

Suddenly, it was night and day; and it was winter, and spring, and summer, and fall; there were noises, music and then silence; as if they passed between people and events with great speed.

As their bodies synched into rhythm and Arthur began to ride Gabriel, the sharpness of those golden threads around them began to narrow, surrounding them; they were everywhere, they were part of everything; they even came out of them. In those movements, their strings began to braid to a point where they looked like two creatures woven from the same skein, barely distinguishable from each other.

"Aah!"

"Ah-Arthur!"

But they didn't seem to notice; they only felt the building pleasure of where they were connected; one that grew closer and closer to orgasm.

"Gabe-!"

It all happened at the same time; the climax, collapsing onto the other's chest and hugging each other, squeezing their arms, as if they were going to disappear. But they laid horizontally on the bed, breathing heavily.

When they parted ways and looked at each other, they were no longer the ones from the mirror of the human world.

When they looked out the window, the skies were pink, the sun blue, and the fields orange.

After many centuries, they had come to the Dreamworld together.

***

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engportevents · 11 months

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Day 4 (May 11th) ~ Home

“I saw home in your eyes.”

Arthur Kirkland: @rehsunshine | instagram: reh_sunshine

João Henrique Lisboa-Carriedo: @amitiel-halfm00n | instagram: amitielcosplay

📸: instagram: shi.shooting.stars

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engportevents · 1 year

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👀

The week finished but never the love.... and this fic )? @engportevents

2. A little change of plans

Spanish version

“Me cago en la puta leche, Gabriel! Windsor?! You two always do it in Buckingham!” the man scratched his head, nervous. “I cleared all my king’s agenda for nothing!”

“Toninho…”

“All because Albion fucking decides to have a romantic getaway on the other side! What about our children's protocol and all that shi-?”

“Toño!”

Spain stoped for a second, looking back. Flushed, he smiled nervously when he faced with Belgium’s usual delicate features in a not-so-delicate frown.

“It’s your brother’s anniversary, he’ll know best what to do with his husband. If they’ve decided to change their plans, then so be it.” The woman crosses her arms, “There’s a month left, it's not that bad.”

“Oi, Anita, why do you defend them? They’re being irresponsible.”

“Because when you decide to cancel on plans right off the bat, Portugal goes along with your outbursts.” She pointed out, making his face turn redder. “But that’s not inconvenient when it comes to you, right, my dear?”

“I… argh, me cago en el diablo-”

“And stop being so rude! For God’s sake, that jealousy-“

“Oi, está lá? I can hear everything…”

Spain’s mouth twisted in displeasure, and he put the call on speaker as soon as his partner approaches him; he took her by the waist, kissing her cheek in compensation for the scolding.

“Thank you for letting us know in advance, Gabriel,” she commented, smiling. “Do you guys want something in particular? I think I ran out of marriage gift ideas some centuries ago.”

“Hahaha, we’re fine, cunhada. When we schedule a dinner for close friends and relatives, we’ll let you know. You know your company is enough for us.”

“Aww!” The blonde coosed, whilst Antonio rolls his eyes to the side. Noticing this, Ana turns to him, pinching his waist.

“Hey! Stop punishing me!”

“… Are you sure?” She raised her eyebrows, holding him closer to her.

Spain blinked at her for a long second, and then looks at his cellphone.

“Ten un buen viaje me llamais luego tengo cosas que atender. Adiós.”

“Uh… what?” the brunette looked at the cellphone when he noticed the abrupt tone of the line going dead.

“So? How long did he complain for?” Arthur asks behind Gabriel, while reading his tablet and drinking tea.

“I think… Belgium has it under control.” he concluded amused.

“Ana Brel? I must say, women are always more efficient.” His finger continued to scroll across his tablet, reading each paragraph with great speed. “Out of all of us, they’re thrust into Europe, so I'm not surprised.” He siped more of his tea. “While she has reasons not to interact with me much, she has the right manners like the queen that she is, so I respect her.”

“Your weakness for women is endearing to me.” His partner admited, sitting across from the other. His legs are crossed as he drinks his own tea.

“You can’t blame me, I adore them.” He says smiling. “Anyway, do you want to make sure there’s anyone else to call?”

“Sim, but you should be the one to tell your brothers about the change of plans. Especially since they are more involved in the protocol.”

“Bah! It’s only two days we’ll be off track, they won’t miss me too much. Especially the redheads, whatever we do is an excuse to drink.” Arthur whispered sardonically.

“The good and bad drink you guys have is familiar, meu caro,” he narrows down, avoiding England’s side eye, “but that’s not the point.”

“And what is, darling?” the Englishman raised an eyebrow

“Scotland is in Lyon, and he planned to stay there with France until our Anniversary. You do remember, right? Lunch, last week?”

“…dammit.”

***

“Well, well! look who his Majesty decided to call…”

Francis Bonnefoy sounded delighted, tossing his golden hair to one side of his shoulder, tangling his fingers in the cord of his bedroom's landline phone, between amusement and mockery.

>>“To what do I owe this great honor?”

“Shut up, frog. I told you I have to talk with my brother.”

“Is it urgent?”

“No, informative.”

“Then I’m afraid he won’t be able to get to you at the moment.”

“What? Why?”

“Well, you see, mon ami…”

“C’mon lov, don’t leave me here all day.” the clear boom of Scotland’s voice sounded in the background. “I think I'm beginning to cramp up, shet.” The blonde covered the telephone receiver for a second and turned to his partner behind him.

“Because you moved your leg lain, I told you not to.”

“It was starting to fall asleep, what did you want me to do tied up like this?”

“I’ll help you.” Francis whispered sympathetically, returning to the call. “As I was saying-“

“Agh! Bloody hell! Don’t tell me what you two are up to! Gross!” The Frenchman's laugh only worsened the British’s profuse imagination, who closed his eyes to shut out the thought.

“It’s no different from what you do with Gabriel… or your countless lovers, Angleterre.”

“What you two do is nothing normal like what the rest of us do, you perverts!” Arthur shooked his head, pinching the bridge of his nose, sighing. “Tell Scottie that we won’t be in Buckingham on the day of the anniversary, we’ll be going to Windsor.”

“Oh! The castle you two met for the first time? How romantic! What adventure have you come up with, mon petit?”

“Just tell him that. We’ll be back in two days for the main celebration.”

“Tres bien, I’ll pass the message on. Have a good trip!” He moved away a little, “Say hello to the kids, mon amour!”

“Don’t break anything!” Scotland called from a distance, in between laughs with the Frenchman.

“Yes yes… goodbye.”

“What’s wrong, Artie?”

Portugal stepped closer seeing how the other hanged up slowly, his face red and scratching his head nervously.

“Next time you call,” he answered covering his face absolutely embarrassed. “I hate this dysfunctional family.”

“Don’t rest so soon, soldier.” the brunette said.

“Why not?”

“You still have to call Matthew and Alfred…” he crossed his arms, accepting the Brit’s murderous stare with ease.

***

“I don’t like this.”

“Why do you say that?”

Karpusi’s mouth twisted, concentrating on the conversation with no less effort, so that drowsiness wouldn't overtake him. It was something he did with very few on the planet; Portugal was one of them.

“Every time Arthur has wanted to surprise you with something, it’s become a disaster queued up for the rest of us. His actions do not make waves, but tsunamis for us.”

“I know him, Heracles, if it was something serious I would have noticed it. But he wants to renew our vows in a more original way this time. And to be honest, it does not seem like a bad idea to me; just an inconvenience, perhaps, for everyone’s schedules.”

“Big or small he always causes problems.” he sighted.

Greece scratched the back of his neck while one of his cats sat next to him on the window sill of his living room. The young man looked up at the clear sky, the sun was radiant and dry. On the other side of the call, Portugal smiled softly; the silence between the two, even from a distance, was one of the many things they love about the other.

“I’ll be fine, I promise.”

“Just… send me a message every once in a while, to know you’re fine. Not a report.” he clarified; “just something to keep me calm.”

“I will, but I want you to know I’ll be going to an old home with someone I love; I am not off on an adventure into nothingness.”

“I know…” the resigned tone made Gabriel smile. It’s not that the other was jealous like most mortals tended to be. It was simply concern based on long experience.

“Now I have to call Netherlands, he’s the last one left.”

"What did Kiku say about this?"

“He loves Arthur very much, he is one of the few nations who appreciates him deeply. He only showed enthusiasm and curiosity, and Arthur entertains him.”

"Then I have nothing more to object to," he sighed after another silence, "... I love you, my hyacinth."

“Me too, Heraclinho.”

The young Hellene looked with his eyes, apparently lost, towards a horizon that had nothing to do with the classic decoration of the wall in his residence, but something else. Something that he also felt was raising the hairs on the back of my neck.

He looked at his cellphone and hung up, setting it aside as a new cat inspected it and another joined the one on the sill, meowing for attention. Greece reached for his head and caressed him, not looking at him.

Throughout history, his and Britain’s relationship was rocky for multiple reasons; the most prominent being the theft of the earthly memories of his mother Helena, filling the museums and pockets of the English. But, beyond these twists, for not many years they had established a cordial relationship, in pursuit of peace of mind for the common object of interest: Portugal.

That's why he couldn't help but worry, when the Anglo-Saxons mind sparked, it caught fire, for whatever reason.

"Yeah, well... afterall, I can't expect anything normal from Arthur Kirkland"

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