America has dreamed of the stars for as long as he can remember. Fighting for his dream made be harder then he thought as he fights the race to space with his sworn enemy, the Soviet Union. Hardship, struggle, doubt, and destruction are sure to follow, but can his family and friends be enough for him to finally catch the stars? I'm bad at descriptions sorry. TLDR: America is really into space and has daddy issues, Soviet Union is a jerk, there's lots of wholesome moments and angst, and this is a loose interpretation to the Space Race from history. This is the prequel story and partial conclusion to "We Are a Family" (A USSR FAMFIC). You do not have had to read the original story in order to read this book and can start here if you'd like. Special thanks and full credits of headcanons, designs, and some ideas to @Arrietty-Rune aka @the_fox_witch (on IG). Happy reading!! TRIGGER WARNING: THIS BOOK MAY POTENTIALLY DEAL WIGH SENSITIVE TOPICS AND DARKER THEMES THAT I WOULD RATE FOR SLIGHTLY OLDER AUDIENCES. IF YOU ARE SENSITIVE TO HEAVY TOPICS, PLEASE TREAD LIGHTLY AND STAY SAFE.

❄️ He was sent to kill a cult. Instead, he met a god who remembered his soul. America is a monster hunter-sharp-tongued priest, five-foot-two, and absolutely not here for your death cult nonsense. But when a trap binds him to a forgotten altar, he comes face-to-face with the god they were trying to summon. Russia isn't just frost and fury. He's ancient. Powerful. And disturbingly interested in America. Blood will freeze. Chains will break. And beneath the snow, something impossible stirs-an echo of a love that should have died long ago. ✨ Enemies-to-something-more meets divine obsession in a dark, romantic, dreamcore fantasy filled with teeth, trauma, and fate.

America, the new transfer student, isn't what you'd call a model student. Showing up late on his first day... he's not exactly making a good impression. Russia however, finds him intriguing. I wanna write bad fanfiction. Here, have this. Sorry if there's spelling errors. The text is small and I don't really feel like re reading my work anyways

America just wanted to pay rent. That's it. That's the dream. No drama. No trauma. No getting eaten by a giant Russian snake-man hybrid in the middle of a creepy government containment facility. But unfortunately, America's new janitorial job comes with... conditions. Now he's locked in a pitch-black room with something ancient, massive, and hungry-something that speaks Russian, smells him like dessert, and can't decide if he wants to devour him whole or keep him forever. Too small to fight back, too pretty to be ignored, and far too mouthy for his own good, America's only hope is to talk fast, cry cutely, and pray the monster decides he's more pet than prey. A romantic horror tale of teeth, terror, and awkward flirting in the face of digestive doom

America never wanted to be a therapist-especially not at that place. Tucked away in the snowy outskirts of nowhere, the asylum is cold, clinical, and far too quiet. On paper, it's a rehabilitation facility for the mentally unstable. In reality... it watches more than it heals. There are corridors not listed on the map. Guards that don't speak. Patients who whisper about things that shouldn't exist. And then there's Russia. Eight feet tall. Muzzled. Strapped into a straightjacket. His white hair falls messily across his face, just barely hiding the impossible red of his eyes. He doesn't speak much-but when he does, it's always to America. Assigned to him without warning, America is expected to observe and record. Nothing more. But Russia's presence is suffocating. His voice echoes in dreams. And when his fingers smear blood across steel and something shifts-sharp, spindled, unnatural-from behind his back... America starts to understand: this isn't therapy. It's a test. The deeper he falls into the patient's grasp, the more the truth begins to surface-about the asylum, the experiments, and the monster who never stops watching him. Russia doesn't want help. He wants him. And once the hunger starts, it doesn't stop.