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Merry Xmas for everyone! and a happy new year for all the deviant artists!!!!
Feliz navidad y un prospero año nuevo pa' todos los artistas del deviant! HO HO HO
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But who is Steve? All we know is that he's a bit dim.
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Axis Powers Hetalia (c) to Hidekaz Himaruya

I love my wallpaper. :3 It's the asian nations of Hetalia, by the way. I can name them all from left to right. China, Japan (Wait, where's China putting Japan's hand?! Oh, it's just his pocket.), Taiwan, Korea, and Hong Kong I changed my wallpaper quite recently.

Remember when I used to do these. I suddenly stopped later. I think the one before I stopped was something that seemed like SanzoXGoku, but it could be interpreted any way. I got bored, and it seems that I have to reinstall GIMP. @.@ Now, I'm just waiting for it to download, then I'll be trying to draw Iggy (HIS EYEBROWS ARE WAY TOO DIFFICULT FOR ME TO DRAW! Well, not that difficult, but I always mess up).
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Sus recientes declaraciones y teorías de Stephen Hawking han despertado mi interes para dedicarle una ilustración ...
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This is essentially my response to the following question: "Do you have Facebook?" and after I say no in reply, "Why not?" Uhm, well, I could go into a trite and lengthy rant about the evils of Facebook and other networking sites, but the truth of it is I just don't want a FB account, seriously. "Social networks" like FB have never interested me because I am really an antisocial hermit. I have a couple of blogs and things, but that's as far as my presence on the Internet goes, and that's how I want to keep it, thanks.

Of course, if that's your thing, then go and try to beat everyone else at having the most "friends" on FB, I'm certainly not going to stop you. Good luck in that, you awesome person! :D
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Romano mochi doesn't look to amused!

I made this for Panda on the HetaMeet
She wanted a cute mochi, so I drew an annoyed Romano and a...loving france~

My hands were frozen, but I'm glad it turned out well~
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Working on my speed.


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Russia is the blotted smears of blood
On the walls of old asylums,
And the screaming of lunatics
As they talk to the moon.

Russia is the horror of the moment,
When the prisoners of invisible chains
Are forced to concede
That no one is ever coming
To free them
From the nightmare of perceived dangers
And sterile devices of torture:
That they are alone,
And always will be.

Russia is a hammer
To break bottles
And abandoned hearts.

Russia is red snow
And too many years
Of cold summers.

Russia is a child crying:
A paranoid, twisted infant
In the face of an internal and eternal

Russia is only as good as his rulers,
And the people he represents.
In his oversized body,
He doesn't know where to go,
Or who to be.

Russia is the personification
Of dead sunflowers,
And the tragedy
Of centuries
Under the influence
Of vodka
And the Northern Lights.

Russia smiles
Because his face is splitting open
Along the seams of his mouth,
As if to mirror
The state of his
Deteriorating mind.

Russia is a man
Who breaks the people he loves,
Because he doesn't know
How else to keep them
From running away.
I am not pleased with this piece. Russia is a character who is, for me, very hard to write about: this is because I, living in comfort with only a vague sense of discontentment and depression, cannot even begin to comprehend the horrors of his past. I cannot convey what he has been through. Still, I can always write another poem about him, so for now, here is this piece of shit; may it appease you.
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RussiaxChina, reminding me of my <3

Got it from [link]
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Title: I'm Sorry
Pairing(s): Russia/China, England/China, mentioned America/England, mentioned France/England, mentioned Greece/Japan
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: slash/yaoi, angst, implied sex, M-preg, adultery


He sat there in complete silence. He stared hard at the chair that had been flipped over. He looked at the shattered plates and the broken pieces from the window. Vodka stains were on the wall and the floor from when the half-empty bottle of Vodka was thrown. The blood stains had been splattered on the dining room floors, but it wasn't his. It was his lover's, or maybe now ex-lover's.

China sighed and slowly got up from the table. This was all his fault anyway. He wouldn't be surprised if the Russian never came back and cursed him for the rest of his life.

How could he have been so stupid? He was mature, logical, and thought before taking action. And yet, he took a bite of the forbidden fruit and did the unforgivable.


It had started almost two months ago. China and Russia got into a small argument over something probably stupid. Then, it had escalated into something bigger. China had been shouting at the big man, telling him he was suffocating him and driving away his friends and family. Russia had only claimed he felt as though he wasn't getting enough love from the Chinese man.

"You know I love you, aru!" he shouted. "I can't help it that you're the one who's always craving attention! I'm exhausted, Ivan!"

"If you were always talking about your ex, maybe I wouldn't be like this!"

"So I say one thing about Arthur and suddenly it turns into me always talking about him?!" he question. "That's not fair, Ivan! Think about me some more, aru!"

"I'm always thinking of you! Always, da! It's you who isn't thinking of me!"

China's eyes widened in anger and he was overtook by fury. He was pretty sure he smacked the Russian across the face before storming out into the streets. Russia did not follow him; he was too angry to chase after anyone at that point. He drank instead.

As the Chinese man stormed through the streets, he bumped into someone. He blinked when he had seen the man's face. "Arthur?"

England blinked. "Yao? What the bloody hell are you doing out here? It's freezing, you know." He gave the smaller man his scarf. "Come on. I don't live far from here."

China followed his ex-lover back to his house. It wasn't a long walk and before he knew it, they were sitting in England's dining room, drinking tea. England couldn't cook, but he sure knew how to make a nice cup of tea.

"What happened, Yao?" the Brit asked. "Did you get in a fight with Ivan again?" He lightly scowled the Russian's name.

China nodded. "It was over something stupid but then… we blew up at each other, aru." He sighed and sipped the tea. "I don't know what to do…"

England gently touched his hands, caressing the delicate, soft hands as though they were made of glass. China drew back his hands. He knew the other man all too well when it came to affection. "Stop that, aru."

"…I miss you, Yao."

"You should've thought of that before you left me for Alfred then."

England was quiet for a moment. He looked at his hands and then, very softly, said, "He has already left me. Didn't you notice?"

China looked up and looked around. Now that he thought about it, it was awfully quiet. Normally, America would be watching some horror movie and screaming his lungs out. He'd be eating those fattening hamburgers and being his loud obnoxious-self. But it was only him and England in the house. He gave him a look of sympathy. "I'm sorry."

He shook his head. "Don't be… I should've known he was never serious from the beginning. Because I didn't…" He reached for Yao's hands again. "I lost you."

China should have pulled his hands away, but because he didn't, their touches went from comforting to passionate. They both ached with longing, maybe for just touch in general or for each other. Lips were locked and tongues played together. Skin was touching and hot, pleasured breaths, pants and cries filled the room. They had somehow made it to England's bed, where he took China over and over again. Oh, how he had missed this Chinese man and his touch. How he missed being the one claiming instead of being claimed. China had realized how much different England and Russia were. Russia was rough, hot, aggressive, and demanding during embrace. England was hot, but gentle and sweet toward the Chinese nation. Did he miss this kind of love making? Yes. Did he hate how Russia was completely different? No. He loved how the Russian touched him. Just right now, he wanted something less brutal. He wanted something gentle.

He wanted England.

When China had woke up, England was already up and stroking his face. He smiled gently at the man. "Good morning, Yao."

China was confused, but only for a split second. He remembered what he had done. He sat up straight and began gathering his clothes. England blinked. "Yao?"

"I have to go, aru."

"Wait, Yao. I don't understand–"

China had put on his pants and shoes and was heading toward the door. England already had his pants on and chased after him. He caught him by the arm. "Why are you leaving?"

China didn't look at him. "I'm going home."

"But why?! Did you forget about last night?! I told you that I still loved you!" He held his arm tightly. "Besides, you love me too, don't you?! You prefer me over Ivan, right?!"

China slowly shook his head. "No…" He faced England, staring him hard in the face with his strong, proud golden eyes. "Last night was… only an accident. I don't love you anymore, Arthur." He pulled his arm free and opened the door. "I love Ivan." He pulled back on his shirt and ran out of the house.

China didn't go straight back to his lover's house. He knew better than to walk in with his body covered in England's hickeys. He stayed at his house until England's mark was completely gone. When they were gone a week later, he went to visit Russia, who glomped him the minute he knocked on the door.

"Ivan?!" he cried as the giant Russian yanked him inside. "What's wrong, aru?!"

In his child-like voice, he whispered, "Yao… I'm sorry. I'm sorry I yelled at you. Don't leave me, Yao… You promised you wouldn't leave me."

China felt guilty. Russia had apologized, even though he was the one that had slept with another man. He couldn't tell him that though. He didn't want him to know if he didn't have to. It wasn't going to ever happen again.

That night, they made up and embraced until the next morning.


As he picked up the glass pieces, he remembered when he went to the doctor that morning. Ever since he and Russia had made up, he hadn't seen England. He found out from Japan that he and France had gotten together, which shocked the hell out of him. Still, as long as he was happy, China was okay. He wasn't jealous, but he was happy for his ex-lover.

Two months had passed and China began to have morning sickness. He felt tired all the day and his appetite was always off. He finally had gone to the doctor alone this morning, only to clarify the worst: he was pregnant with England's child.

What was he supposed to do? This was the worst case scenario. He wasn't supposed to get pregnant. He was pretty sure England had pulled out before reaching his climax. Then again, he didn't remember anything from that night; expect that he did the unforgivable. China didn't believe in God, but he was sure that God was punishing him for cheating on his lover.

His plan was to just come clean to Russia. He knew what he had to do. He couldn't lie to him forever. When the baby was born, it would look nothing like him. It would look like China, and it would look like England. If he didn't come clean now, he'd be in even more trouble later.

He didn't expect Russia to take it well. He just didn't expect him to just stare at him for a minute.

"What… did you say?" he finally asked, pausing during a drink of his vodka. He put the bottle down and looked at China with blank eyes. "You… slept with Arthur, da?"

China nodded once, completely and fully aware of every part of the Russian's body and face. "It was on that night you and I were fighting… I ran into him and we…" He sighed once. "It was only an accident. I didn't mean for it to happen, aru. I'm so sorry…"

Russia eyes darkened, but he smiled. China paled as Russia stretched out a hand toward him. He barely touched the pale, porcelain cheek. "So… you slept with him. Was that all you want to tell me, Yao-Yao?"

China slowly shook his head, never looking away from the Russian.

Russia drew his hand back and held his bottle, taking a big gulp from it. "What else does my little Yao have to tell me? Don't be afraid, Yao-Yao. You can tell me, da." His voice was unusually very sweet and very gentle, as though he were on the verge of snapping.

China took a very deep breath and finally said, "I'm pregnant with his baby."


The bottle of vodka flew past China's head and hit the wall behind him, shattering into pieces. The vodka landed on both the floor and the wall. It poured down the wall like a waterfall. China stared wide-eyed at Russia, who was now standing up with his chair flipped over and smiling like a murdering. His purple eyes were consumed by fury and despair.

"You let his seed get into you?" the Russian said, his voice strangled with anger and sorrow. "You let him take you and let him come in you until his seed was planted into you?"

China did not answer.

"You said you loved me Yao. You said you wouldn't leave me, da."

He jerked his head up. "I never said I was leaving you–"

"SHUT UP!" Russia screamed. China froze; Russia had never screamed at him before. "You strayed away from me! You said you'd only love me! You said you'd only let me touch you!" He threw the plate that had been in front of him and it hit the wall. It shattered.

Russia paced toward the sink and China dare not move. "I'm sorry, aru…" he said softly.

"'I'm sorry' fixes nothing!" Russia hissed. "'I'm sorry' doesn't fix that fact that you didn't tell me!" He slammed his hands against the window over the sink, crashing through it and causing his arms to bleed.

China jumped up and ran to him. "Ivan! Are you all right?!"

Russia turned to him and grabbed his arms before backing him up and forcing him to sit back down. Blood was dripping onto the floor and had gotten onto the sink and broken glass. "Do I look all right to you? Do I look fine?"

China said nothing as blood was getting on his clothes.

"I thought you loved me, Yao."

"I do, Ivan… I do."

He shook his head. "If you did, then you wouldn't have slept with that stupid, hateful Brit." Then he stormed out of the room, leaving the last thing for China to see from him was the tears forming in his eyes.


China had finally cleaned up most of the mess. The floor's still had light vodka and blood stains, but the shattered glass and plates had all been picked up and thrown out. He suddenly felt exhausted.

He lied down on his bed and realized how much bigger it was without the Russian next to him. He curled up on Russia's side of the bed. It smelled like vodka, sunflowers… It smelled like Ivan Braginski.

It finally hit him. China gripped the sheets tightly and tears formed out of the corner of his eyes. He realized how much he hurt his lover, how much he hurt Russia. He had wished the Russian had hit him. He wouldn't have minded. He deserved to be damned.

China cried for the first time in a long time.


Three months had past; Russia hadn't returned. China's eyes were red from every night he'd been crying. His belly was growing and he always had weird cravings. He didn't want to eat, but he had to since he was feeding two people instead of one. His house was quiet; he was lonely. Sometimes his siblings would come by to visit, but never for very long. China didn't want company so he'd send them away.

Only once had England come over. China had called him to tell him about that pregnancy. He was over in a heartbeat.

"Yao. What're planning to do with the baby?"

"I'm having him, aru. Even if I raise him alone… I'm going to raise him and love him."

"I can raise him with you," he offered.

China shook his head. "No, Arthur… You have a new lover, a new life. Stick with that one and don't worry about me anymore. I'm just your friend now."

Arthur wasn't going to argue with the stubborn Chinese man, but he was able to have the baby stay with him every other week and he'd pay child support. How he was able to convince China, he wasn't sure either. He still got part o what he wanted.

One evening, when it was pouring outside and a thunderstorm looked like it was about to start, he heard a knock on the door. China sighed. Japan was never going to leave him alone was he? He had already visited twice today, trying to convince the grieving nation to come to his house and stay with him for awhile. China didn't want to, only because he knew that Japan already had his Greek lover over.

As he opened the door, he said, "Kiku, I already told you that I…" He stopped and stared at his guest.

He soaked and was looking at his feet with his hands were in his pockets. When the door opened, he just smiled gently. "Can I come in?" he said softly. Even through the hard rain, China could still hear him perfectly. He moved out of the way and let the Russian inside.

China didn't look him in the eyes as Russia took off his shoes. "Would… would you like some tea, Ivan?"

Russia nodded and followed China into the kitchen. He made the two of them some tea and they sat in silence at the table. China didn't meet the lavender eyes that stared at him intensely. He dare not speak first. He didn't want to set off the Russian man. He had already done that three months ago.

Finally, Russia spoke. "Yao… Have you gotten thinner?"

China was caught off guard. "What?"

"You look like you've lost weight, da." He stretched out and tenderly touched one of China's hands. He gently ran his wet, gloved finger over the delicate, thin hand. "See? You have."

China felt bolts of lightning fly through his body has his hand was stroked. He wanted to jump at the Russian and hug him tightly, telling him how sorry him was, cry into his shoulder and beg for him to come back. However, he was too prideful for that. He couldn't just openly surrender and beg him; it's not like he had the right to.

Russia released China's hand and sighed. Then he said the two words China didn't want to hear: "I'm sorry."

China slammed his hands on the table and Russia's eyes widened the tiniest bit.

"No…" he growled. "Don't tell me you're sorry… I don't want to hear it from you! You have no reason to say you're sorry! Everything's my fault! I'm at fault, not you!" All the pain and all guilt he had been feeling the past three months. The tears had been holding in during the days and had only come out at night all came out now. He finally broke down and it was in front of the one person he didn't want to show his weak side to. "I'm sorry…! I'm so sorry! Curse me! Hate me! Do whatever you want to me…! Just don't you dare apologize to me when I'm the one that did such a horrible thing to you!" Tears poured down his cheeks. He wailed into his hands, screaming. "I'm so sorry, Ivan! I'm so sorry! I never wanted to do this to you! I never wanted to do it!"

Russia jumped up from the table and ran to China's side, hugging him tightly. China froze for a moment as two massive strong arms wrapped around his body tightly, one hand gripping the back of his shirt and the other pulling his head to his shoulder. His gloved fingers ran through the silky, dark brown hair, damping it from his wet gloves. "Calm down, Yao… Don't cry, da? I can't stand seeing my Yao-Yao cry."

China hugged the Russian back, gripping his overcoat tightly and pulling himself into the larger nation's chest. "I'm sorry…!" he sobbed. "I'm so sorry…!"

"Hush, Yao," Russia whispered, smiling softly. "It's all right, Yao… It's all right."

"No…!" he choked out. "I betrayed you…! I slept with Arthur…! Even though I love you…!"

Russia held him tightly. "It's okay Yao… I love you, too. So I'll forgive you this time. Never again, da? Promise to never do that again?"

"I promise…! Just stay with me! Stay with me please…!"

Russia gently kissed the revealed smooth forehead. "I will… I'll stay with you and even you're baby… Next time though, you'll be having my child."

China nodded, wiping away his tears. "我爱你."

"Я тоже тебя люблю."
Hoped you like :) It was my first attempt at NOT writing smut for this couple.

Translations (Google again):
我爱你 --> I love you
Я тоже тебя люблю --> I love you too
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