#turkeyxgreece

[turquasecayt]

They are my guilty pleasure 🥀🥀 since 9th grade

Asena and Heracles

(Nyo turkey and greece)

[reficuluwu]

Some ships for you! ;3

[yanthebademokid-blog]

Omg...i ship O//w//O👌

[basketofnovas]

Abrasion

Herakles hit the tile hard on his knees and hoped they weren't bleeding. The water came down hot across his head and back, so his hair fell wet in his eyes. Sadık's hand smoothed it back from his face, and the callous on his thumb scraped over Herakles' cheek.

Herakles' breath caught in his throat. After that he couldn't have made himself stop if he wanted to.

Explicit, Turkey/Greece. This is basically just porn. Happy Valentine’s Day!

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[turquasecayt]

In my au When the Ottoman Empire collapsed, Sadık also gone pfft. He was replaced by Asena (Turkey) I have to write this to make you understand the joke, sorry.

Seriously but it would be shocking for Sadık if he would see it lol

I love this two enemies to enemies 🇬🇷🇹🇷

[basketofnovas]

your love for me has just got to be real

The state of Osman sends Herakles to find out what Romania is up to and make him stop that; or, in which everyone is a collaborator and no one is happy about it.

Mature, Greece/Turkey. Greece, Turkey, Romania, Serbia, Egypt. Contains characters being nasty about imperialism and each other’s sex lives.

"I need you to tell me what he's up to," Sadık said, pacing across the room. Herakles had noticed over the years how Sadık hated to sit still and certainly found it unbearable to think that way. Perfectly on form, he had started this conversation seated on the sofa, fidgeting with his book stand; but soon he had risen and gone to the window as though to look out; then he came back over to Herakles, and now he went back and forth without even a pause.

The light through the latticed windows formed a pattern over his skin that whirled as he moved. It was dizzying.

Herakles focused on the conversation again with effort. "That isn't hard," he remarked. "Romania is very predictable. I can tell you what he's doing from right here."

"And what would that be?" Sadık whirled. The robes flared around him as he turned, red silk flashing like rubies in the afternoon sunlight. He formed a very pretty picture, Herakles admitted.

"Plotting sedition and drinking too much alcohol," Herakles said. "It's possible that he's also branched out to coffee, lately. But I wouldn't put money on it." Romania wasn't a fan of Ottoman culture as far as Herakles knew.

Sadık didn't like that. His brows arched, then contracted over his forehead, and he scowled. "I know he's plotting sedition, Herakles," he said. "That's the problem."

"It isn't as if it's a change in the situation," Herakles muttered.

Most likely it was fortunate that Sadık paid no heed to this.

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[basketofnovas]

but deliver us from evil chapter seven (complete!)

After almost two hundred years to pick up the pieces of his life, Herakles might have forgiven Sadık. He’s just not sure he’s happy about it. (Hesitant, angsty Turkey/Greece with bonus religious guilt. Rated R for thematic reasons.) 

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six

Despite the Ottoman-era building, the coffeehouse turns out to be a European style cafe, serving both food and coffee to a disorientingly young crowd from a central counter. Stepping inside, Herakles feels a wall of conversation hit him like a slap in the face.

The patrons are gathered in small groups, arguing in some cases at the top of their lungs. Herakles could probably announce his sexuality at a shout in the dead center and be inaudible to anyone more than a table away. But that protection might be unnecessary. The woman behind the counter is obviously a lesbian, which makes Herakles feel better about his earrings.

Impulsively, he points out Sadık – sitting in the corner with a book, occasionally offering commentary on the chess game going on at the next table – after taking his order, and says, “Does he come here a lot?”

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[basketofnovas]

but deliver us from evil chapter four

After almost two hundred years to pick up the pieces of his life, Herakles might have forgiven Sadık. He’s just not sure he’s happy about it. (Hesitant, angsty Turkey/Greece with bonus religious guilt. Rated R for thematic reasons.)

Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three

The table is set with the good silverware and dish set. Herakles wasn't sure until today whether Sadık still owned them; he hasn't seen either since 1821.

There is a chip in one of the plates where it was throw across the room in a fight with Spain several centuries ago. It isn't out; the table is set only for two, so the handful of damaged pieces can be safely hidden away. Herakles remembers, though.

The intimacy of this kind of knowledge disturbs him every time he is at Sadık's house. They are not married, are not together, are not anything, and Herakles would like to forget the time when they were. This is difficult when every possession has a memory or twelve and brushing his hand over, say, the scratches in Sadık's desk top calls to mind the occasion they were put into it.

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