#apersonwhowrites

[apersonwholikeslotus]

The Visit

Y'all guess who's back to writing (finally); everyone say thank you to @hetagrammy for talking to me about IreNor which made me want to write again and for beta reading; she is a person of many talents.

Welcome back to world building the fics, couple of notes + human names;

Because I can I hc Faroe and Iceland as Norway & Ireland's kids; Alisdair has right to be worried he's not just an asshole.

Alisdair = Scotland Molly (or Máire) = Ireland Sigurd = Norway Ida = Faroe Islands

TW: for references to domestic/sexual abuse (character accusing another of it, nothing is actually happening)

ao3 link here

~~~~~~~~~~~~

It had been too long since Alisdair had seen his sister, a couple decades at least. He didn’t even know where she was living, what she was up to, if she were even alive. When you knew as many people as centuries of life could afford you it was easier to find someone though, he assumed she was living in an abbey still; which one he wasn’t sure but that was his first guess to start looking. That was the clue he had given: his sister Máire, she lived in an abbey, made her living writing manuscripts. Even threw in her goldsmithing hobby, and a rough description based off the last time he had seen her. As he was sure there were a thousand Máire’s who helped write manuscripts in Ireland alone.

This wasn’t what he expected, out of all the places in Ireland, Dublin, a viking settlement, was the last place he expected to find her. He had heard of the city, which seemed to be a rather large hub for the Scandinavians now. He couldn’t believe how many boats were in the harbor, they lined up endlessly. He remembered one of the last conversations he had with her, he had half begged her to stay away from the coasts; convinced himself the farther inland she was the safer she would be. As usual anything he, or Dylan, asked of her spurred her to do the absolute opposite. Considering this is where she was living maybe Arthur had asked her to stay away from the coasts as well, she would happily let herself get captured if it meant spiting Arthur. 

He kept his head down, not wanting to draw attention with all of them around here. Reasonably he didn’t trust these people, he had already lost Shetland, Orkney, Caithness, and Sutherland; not to mention the Isle of Mann. Four girls and a boy, all fathered by the Norse personification and promptly left behind. It wasn’t uncommon for nations to leave their children in their own land until they were older; didn’t mean he had to like how recklessly he had them; nor did it mean he couldn’t feel bad for the bairns.

He came to the house he had been told; it took far longer than he expected, and had to go through what seemed half the clergy in the country before someone knew where she was. Only finally finding out from a priest that seemed ten years too old to be alive, but here he was. It was on the outside of the city, a small house looking like it wasn’t made to be a long term shelter, there was a small area of farmland around it. He opened the gate making sure to close it behind him so the chickens that milled about wouldn’t get out. A cat sat on top of an overturned crate, gazing over him lazily. That surprised him, Molly had never been much of a cat person preferring dogs, said they were more useful. 

He dusted himself off as he stood at the door, he didn’t need Molly immediately scolding him over his appearance. He knocked heavily, she tended to daydream and not hear things too lost in whatever she was doing. He didn’t want to just walk in either lest he scare her, or he had the wrong house. The wrong Máire. He hoped not. 

The door opened, he smiled expecting his sister. Expecting for her to throw herself into his arms for a hug, they had never been apart for so long he was so excited to see her. His face fell, instead of his sister stood a man, just barely taller than him, blond with blue eyes, dressed as a northmen. The Northman, Sigurd, the source of all his troubles stood in front of him. Molly must have been here, it was too much of a coincidence there is no way he was here and she was not at some point. 

“Where is she” 

“No hello?” it infuriated him how calm the other was, Sigurd was always infuriatingly calm, even when facing Alisdair. 

“Where is my sister?” Alisdair started again, his voice firm but loud, “Where is Molly? What have you done with her, you heathen?!” he spat the word in his face. 

Sigurd looked upset, but was nowhere near losing his temper as Alisdair was, “She is fine, and I do not–” 

“She can not be fine if you are in her house I–” Alisdair stopped, a small voice, clearly inquisitive, asking something. He looked down, a child no older than four, maybe five clung to Sigurd’s leg. He was going to brush her presence off, Sigurd had plenty of bastards, all of which deserved to hear the truth about their father regardless of age. His gaze lingered on her just long enough for her to look up at him. He froze suddenly, the girl was blonde and blue eyed, just as her father was; but the shape of her face, the way the frizzy curls framed her face… that was Molly. Sigurd must have noted his new interest and he shooed her away. Alisdair’s trance broke as he watched her go. 

“Where is my sister?” he demanded again, this time peering over Sigurd’s shoulder trying to see into the house. He wanted to see the girl again, he wanted to see her closer, that had to be his sister's child. 

“I already told you” He stepped to the side to block Alisdair’s view, “She is fine, why are you looking for her?” 

“I’m not allowed to see her?” 

“I didn’t say that” 

“Then where is-” 

“Sigurd? Who’s at the door?” He froze, moments away from pushing the other man out of the doorway to get into the house. The voice was Molly's. He needed to see her, he needed to know she was okay, he needed her alone, he needed to know she wasn’t being kept with him against her will. 

Sigurd stepped to the side so Alisdair could see in the house, Molly came into view and seeing her face took some of his anxiety away knowing she was okay. Knowing she seemed unhurt. The relief was short-lived, his eyes fell on the small girl he had just seen now rested on her hip, he froze seeing her swollen stomach. 

Molly froze, she just stared at him for a moment, he tried to decide if that was a good thing or not.  “Alisdair!” the hesitation morphed into an almost forced looking smile, there was a panic in her eyes that he knew shouldn’t be there. “I thought I heard your voice, but I didn’t want to hope too much!” 

She moved as quickly as she could over to him, she handed the child to Sigurd and hugged Alisdair tightly, his eyes didn’t move from Sigurd, he put his arm around Molly not in a hug, but as if he were trying to protect her. It was impossible to not assume what he was, the stories he heard, the things he had seen, he wanted him dead. Everything played out in his head, he couldn’t touch him while he was holding her; the girl was at no fault for her fathers actions. 

Molly let go of him, though she stayed close, smiling up at him. “I swear it seems you’ve gotten older since we last saw each other, you have to tell me everything, how are you? How are Arthur and Dylan?” 

He opened his mouth to answer, but every thing that came to mind had to do with what was in front of him. Her smile wavered, she was always good at knowing what he was thinking, “Silly me, you’re probably exhausted, come in, come in, we can talk later” she hugged him again quickly, this time taking the chance to whisper “wait til Ida goes to bed” 

He tensed once she let go, swallowing heavily, he assumed Ida was the girl. He nodded, but put his gaze back on Sigurd. He couldn’t help but take note of how heavily Molly kept her grip on him as she pulled him into the house, how she kept her distance from Sigurd, how she had whispered instead of asking aloud. Every instinct screaming to get Molly and Ida away from him. But he stayed quiet as Molly took her daughter back from Sigurd. 

“Mo réaltín,” Molly held the girl up a bit to be closer to eye level with him, “meet your uncle Alisdair.” 

~~~~~~~~~

The sun had set long ago, Alisdair sat watching his sister, Molly looked exhausted, her head rested on Sigurd’s shoulder, his arm around her. It infuriated Alisdair, he hadn’t gotten an answer yet, he hadn’t been given reasons to not kill Sigurd where he stood. If he threw him in the sea, it would take him longer to come back. The only punishment Alisdair could see fit for what he had done to her. 

“She’s long asleep” Alisdair commented, hoping to spur the conversation. He had spent all day with the small girl going on about all the things she liked (playing tag with the children down the road, the pictures in the windows at church, when her father told her stories about the gods); her favorite foods (pickled fish among them); the names of all the chickens (though she noted she preferred the sheep). It was easier to talk to the niece he didn’t know existed, ignore how she had her fathers nose, and her smile was too much like the Danes’. Ignore how she spoke Norse, and stumbled over the bit of Irish she proudly tried to speak to him in. 

Molly sat up a bit, she looked over at Alisdair, “what do we need to talk about?” 

He hesitated, he knew she knew, “can we go somewhere else?” 

“I’ll leave” Sigurd said instead, “I’m not making my pregnant wife go outside at this hour” 

“Wife?” It pissed him off hearing him refer to her that way, he spoke as if Molly weren’t in the room “My sister wouldn’t marry a pagan, much less willingly carry his children.” 

“But she did, and she is, so apparently you don’t know her that well.” Sigurd didn’t move from Molly’s side, he felt he held more power over Alisdair with her in his arms. “And I don’t like what you're implying about me” 

“I’ll say whatever I want about you because I know the truth.” 

“And what is the truth?” 

“I know what you viking are like.” Alisdair stated it plainly, “You show up, and take what you want without asking. That’s what you did with her; you were tired of just trinkets, jealous of your men getting to take whoever they wanted.” 

“Alisdair, sto-” she started but before being able to get anything beyond his name out was cut off. 

“And you knew the best way to make her stay with you was to have something to hang over her head,” he threw one of his hands towards the other half of the house where Ida was asleep, before gesturing to Molly, clearly trying to accentuate her current state. “You would have a dozen children just to keep her with you” 

Sigurd’s face barely changed, but Molly could feel him tense. He sat up straighter, his jaw clenched tight enough she could hear him grinding his teeth to keep himself from saying anything, 

Molly knew Sigurd wouldn’t say anything, he wasn’t a pushover but he wouldn’t want to distress her or wake up Ida either. He would hold his tongue until morning. She stood suddenly, “Alisdair, outside. Now.” She turned to Sigurd, assuring him a small walk wouldn’t kill her. To spite her brother she took his fur with her, pulling the oversized garment over her shoulders as she followed Alisdair outside.

As soon as the door closed behind her she faced him fury in her eyes “What the fuck was that” 

“Molly you don’t have to pretend to—“ 

“I’m not pretending anything!” She huffed loudly, “He is my husband, I love him, he hasn’t done anything I didn’t give him permission to.”

Alisdair was desperate to get her to admit something, anything to prove Sigurd had done something to her, that he wasn’t just being rash. “How do I know you're not saying that because he’s still right there?” 

She huffed stalking off expecting him to follow her, he did right at her heels. Admittedly he was having a hard time keeping up with her, which was embarrassing to admit considering she was at least six months along already. 

They were well out of hearing distance when she started talking again, repeating her earlier statement: “Sigurd is my husband, I love him, he hasn’t done anything without my permission. We didn’t plan Ida, or this baby, but I love being a mother and he’s a wonderful father.” 

A silence fell over them, as they kept walking. Alisdair knew Molly had no reason to lie to him, not when he wasn’t around to hear her. But he couldn’t believe she would fall for him, he couldn’t rationalize with everything that had happened that she would be okay being with him. 

“We can wait a few weeks so he doesn’t suspect, we’ll leave in the middle of the night, I’ll carry Ida so she doesn’t wake up. He won’t know we’re gone until–” he ignored everything she said. He didn’t think she was genuine, something must be wrong. 

“Alisdair.” She stopped suddenly, turning to face him, “I’m in no condition to travel, and even if I was I wouldn’t go with you” 

“I’ll come back for you in a few months then.” 

Molly went quiet looking up at her brother, she didn’t know how to tell him what she needed to. “I’m not going to be here in a few months.” 

“You’re going back to Norway with him?” 

“No. Once summer comes, and once he’s able to go get the rest of his children we’re all leaving for Iceland.” 

“No.” he didn’t even need to think about it, he wasn’t going that far away, he wasn’t letting her go that far from home. He wouldn’t be able to check on her, he wouldn’t be able to come get her if something happened. 

She sighed, “You know that means nothing,” she turned around going back to the house, “I’m going with him, I’m sorry you don’t trust him, but you can’t throw accusations around, especially after he’s been nothing but kind to me” 

“Nothing but kind?” if Alisdair wasn’t so angry he would have laughed. “You call what his people do to you, to me, kindness?” 

Molly stopped, she looked at the ground sighing. She faced him, but didn’t move any closer, “Seventy years ago now there was a raid on the Abbey I was living in. For some reason or another they decided I wasn’t to die with everyone else and brought me here…” 

Alisdair thought he had it, he thought he had his gotcha. That Molly was finally admitting the horrible things he had done to her. 

“Sigurd paid them off and let me go back about my business, not asking anything in return. That is what I call kindness, Alisdair.” Molly sighed, “It’s been too long, because you think I’m stupid now, enough so to let a man manipulate me into things, even if he had forced Ida on me I would have found a way out for both of us. You should know that.” 

Alisdair was taken aback, he hadn’t been trying to imply Molly to not know what she was doing. His assumptions had nothing to do with her, everything to do with him. He just got here, he had only seen her for a day. He thought he would show up and Molly would still be the same as the last time he had seen her, he thought she would still be his little sister and nothing more; he supposes he wasn’t always right though. 

“I know I won’t be able to stop you; but I can’t stay around if you’re going with him.” 

“I can’t say I’m surprised.” They stopped in front of the house, “But I was hoping you would be around when the baby came.” She opened the front gate not looking at him, “you are welcome to stay for a few days, but I expect you to apologize to Sigurd if you do” 

“I’ll find somewhere else then.” 

Molly nodded, “I’ll get your things then, he may not want you in his house if you don’t plan on taking anything back.” 

“Wait.” Molly stopped looking at him, he came here to check on her. She might be insisting she was fine, but he didn’t trust Sigurd, he couldn’t start trusting him just on Molly’s word either. He couldn’t help but feel as though he was admitting defeat, but… “If I apologize you’ll let me stay?” 

“I will,” she shrugged, “But you’ll have to see what he says” 

“I’ll stay, if I’m allowed.”

#hws norway #hws scotland #hws ireland #hetalia #irenor #hws faroe islands #iceland is also technically there but not rlly #apersonwhowrites #believe it or not this started as a silly idea

[apersonwhowrites]

i look at her and i feel everything i’ve never said 

#apersonwhowrites

[ao3feed-bamon]

Come As You Are

by apersonwhowrites

Bonnie Bennett has decided to take her life into her own hands. She won't let her parents make decisions about her future any longer. She only wishes that they felt the same way, but - unfortunately - they hate the ones she's made so far. It creates a rift between them: Bonnie vs. Abby and Rudy, and she's outnumbered. And while she and Damon are determined to persevere despite the odds, the stress of their circumstances aren't helping them any. But Bonnie has faith, but sometimes, she finds herself wondering if it's enough. And with limited options, she is unsure of what's worse: trying to rebuild bridges that were burned or refusing to trust the people that can help her. IAnd while her heart tells her not to place trust in those who hurt her, she knows that her feelings aren't the most important factor anymore.

Words: 3991, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: The Vampire Diaries (TV)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: F/M

Characters: Bonnie Bennett, Damon Salvatore, Elena Gilbert, Stefan Salvatore, Caroline Forbes, Original Characters

Relationships: Bonnie Bennett/Damon Salvatore, Elena Gilbert/Stefan Salvatore

read it on the AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/26245255 via AO3 works tagged 'Bonnie Bennett/Damon Salvatore' https://archiveofourown.org/works/26245255

#ao3feed #bamon #damon salvatore #bonnie bennett #tvd #the vampire diaries #vampire diaries

[apersonwholikeslotus]

Characters: Romano, USA

Pairing: Romerica

Warnings: None

Prompt used: Person A teaching Person B to dance on a dock by the water as the sun sets. Both are giggling and enjoying the closeness

Notes: *shoves all my prumano wips to the side* happy birthday @the-gremlins-hotel! it's a day late i'm sorry 😭 also would like it noted I stole this gift idea from heam with their permission.

~~~~~~~~~~~

“You don’t know how to dance?” 

“Of course I know how to dance!” Alfred kicked his feet in the water looking over the lake, “I just never learned formal ballroom dancing type stuff” 

Lorenzo huffed, he couldn’t believe over four hundred years no one had taught him how to do any ballroom dances. The sun had almost set over the water, leaving the dock and surrounding beach almost empty; only a few stragglers watching the sunset–including themselves–left. 

Lorenzo stood, “Alfredo up” 

“What?” 

“On your feet, let’s go” Lorenzo reached his hand out to pull Alfred up, even though he knew if Alfred were to grab his hand it would be more likely for him to be pulled down. 

Alfred huffed a little, standing facing Lorenzo, who was looking him over carefully; “You know the Charleston?” 

“Yes.” Alfred nodded, hoping this might be a little easier than he was thinking. 

“This is nothing like that” 

“Oh,” He cocked his brows, “What are we doing?” 

“Waltzing” 

“Waltzing, on a public dock, in our swimsuits” Alfred was very rarely skeptical, and as much fun as this sounded. Dancing in front of people was not very appealing; clubs were fun, but then everyone was dancing. 

“What?” Lorenzo teased, “Is the gattino scared?” 

“Nope, we don’t have music though” 

“We don’t need it.” Lorenzo was tapping his foot, clearly getting impatient. Alfred always chose the most inconvenient times to get embarrassed. 

“It’s easy, just follow my lead” 

“Doesn’t the taller person lead?” 

“Do you know how to Waltz?” 

Al looked sheepish, “no.” 

“That’s what I thought” the box step is easy enough, he figured if Alfred was able to figure out all of those fancy dances in the 20s, it would be more than easy to learn to waltz. “The timing is only three beats, okay?” 

“Okay” 

“And it’s a box step, you know how to do that” 

“Yeah, simple” 

They danced for a few minutes, Lorenzo adding random steps as they went on, explaining random intricacies most of which Alfred seemed to only be half paying attention to. He wished they had more room, but also didn’t think the beach would be much better for this kind of dancing, with how uneven the sand was. 

“You’re too stiff” Alfred had been too focused on the steps, or maybe too distracted by something behind them. But not paying close enough attention to the actual movements either way. 

Alfred tried to physically loosen up, but that didn’t do much either. Something was still distracting him, there was laughter behind Lorenzo, he was sure for a moment Alfred was busy looking at the girls behind them. 

He let go of him, backing up a step; “Can you stop looking at them?” 

“Lookin at who?” 

Lorenzo gestured behind them, “Them, you’re clearly distracted by something” 

Alfred looked over Lorenzo at the group left on the beach, he laughed a little, this infuriated the smaller man even more; “I didn’t even notice them Lore, honest” 

“Then what has been distracting you this whole time?” 

“Your eyes,” and as usual, Lorenzo was caught off guard. “I told you they look like honey in the sun,” 

Lorenzo cleared his throat, trying not to blush. He wasn;t going to be the one embarrassed in public. “I’m supposed to be the romantic one” 

“Oh sorry, you want me to fix that?” Alfred had a mischievous smile on, clearly already having multiple thoughts in his mind on how to do that. 

“I don’t trust you” 

“You shouldn’t” and with that before either could fully process what was happening Alfred had picked Lorenzo up and tossed him in the water. 

The smaller, got over his sputtering in plenty of time to start cussing at Alfred, and making lighthearted threats, “I’m never trying to teach you how to dance again!” 

“Awww but I was just getting good at it!” 

#hws america #hws romano #romerica #hetalia #apersonwhowrites

[apersonwholikeslotus]

The thing is sometimes ppl beta read for you and are like “it was irritating and sad” and you’re like “thank you! That is exactly what I was going for”

#apersonwhowrites

[apersonwholikeslotus]

Now that the anthology is out I present my piece for it. I put the first part under the cut but the rest is on ao3 because of length. Despite this technically supposed to be about Germany I think the parts I'm most proud of are Liechtenstein's <3

warnings: none

ao3 link here!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

1832; Vienna

The day was unusually warm, especially for October. The children were playing just outside the gate, chasing each other around with seemingly no more purpose than a dog chasing its tail. The parents sat inside the gate, talking, only turning their heads when there was a particularly loud yelp from one of the children. Gilbert and Ludwig had arrived in Vienna a few days prior, but the trip had not been an easy one, so only three days later were they having their first full day together. 

“How are things in Frankfurt?” Roderich had shed his usual overcoat, due to both the heat, and the close company not requiring normal formalities. 

Gilbert laughed, “Maybe if you went to Frankfurt you would know” 

“Why would I go to Frankfurt when you can do it for me?” 

“Because I don’t go to Frankfurt either. Berlin or Königsberg” 

Erzsébet rolled her eyes, she had listened to them bicker for hundreds of years. It was a normal routine, not one she enjoyed the more it happened. There had been a few years of peace, not having to listen to them. But since the split custody of Ludwig had started, they had been seeing more and more of Gilbert. 

“How about we don’t talk about politics for once?” she suggested to both men. Her eyesight wandered away for a moment just to see Liesl finally catch her younger cousin, both children toppling to the ground. She laughed lightly, watching as they both got up and ran off farther as if nothing had happened. 

“We’re not talking politics” both men remained absolutely oblivious to the scene that had made Erzsébet laugh. “We’re discussing the good of the confederation” 

“Exactly!” Gilbert raised his nose in indignation, “And even if what would you rather we talk about? Housework?” Erzsébet hummed, “We could talk about why you’re here instead of returning to Berlin” 

“Why?” Gilbert changed his tone, “Want me out so you and your husband can be alone?” 

Roderich rolled his eyes, “We’re not married, I remind you, Gilbert” 

“You act it,” he shrugged, “And that’s close enough. House in the countryside, two kids, enough money from the government to live comfortably. I’d say you two could play family for at least the next century” 

Erzsébet’s eyes darted to the field, making sure Liesl and Ludwig weren’t close enough to hear. She sat up a little straighter out of habit, “We only have a daughter. Gilbert.” 

The whole group shifted uncomfortable with the topic being brought up. Ludwig’s split custody by all means should have never happened. 

Gilbert held the newborn in his arms. It felt odd, he hadn’t held a baby since Liesl was born almost a century earlier. Erzsébet had followed him to the door, repeating everything she had already told him ten times; she was worried he didn’t know how to take care of a baby. Truthfully he didn’t. He had to remind himself this hadn’t been his idea; Roderich and Erzsébet had come to him. 

The baby cried with every bump in the road. It made Gilbert less sure of himself every time it took him even a little too long to calm him. His nephew should be with his parents, not with him. Infants shouldn’t be taken on long trips like this either, it was a bad idea, he could get sick so easily. Erzí would kill him if her baby died within a couple weeks of Gilbert having him. He didn’t know what to do. All he could think was hold the newborn close, and talk to him. Things would be okay, he would see his mother and father before he knew it. Gilbert would happily be uncle Gil instead of papa; they just needed a few years to get things sorted. Yes. They were just getting things sorted. 

Split custody was good though, three months with Roderich, three months with Gilbert, then switch. Ludwig really didn’t move that much, and they usually spent holidays and most summers together anyway. Ludwig was only seven, he wouldn’t have had a second thought about being referred to as one of his aunt and uncle's children. Erzsébet was overly cautious though, always thinking someone could be listening from around the corner. Roderich didn’t seem as bothered by it, the silence wasn’t worth what had happened. 

Roderich promised himself it would only be a few years, once Napoleon lost power. Once France was banging down his door. He would have Ludwig back soon enough, and everything would be as it was supposed to. Until then they were to go about business as usual; no one knew of Erzsébet’s pregnancy, at least no one outside of the house, and Gilbert had sworn even now to keep Ludwig’s existence on the downlow. At least until things calmed down. 

Liesl had been asking questions though, Roderich and Erzsébet had assumed her old enough to understand the first time around what was happening. 

“Your baby brother is going to live with your onkel Gil, just for a little while, and then he’ll be back” Roderich knew he was lying to himself just as much as he was lying to her when he said it.

Napoleon couldn’t stay in power forever though, and the confederation of the Rhine wouldn’t be permanent. For a short time Roderich convinced himself Ludwig would be returned to them with the German Confederation; instead he was introduced to the split custody with Gilbert. Saying he was disappointed would be understating it, Erzsébet claimed to understand it, reminding Roderich seeing him for six months out of the year was better than not at all. 

1815, the first assembly of the German confederation. Erzsébet argued wanting to be there to ‘represent her people within the Austrian Empire” which was part of the confederation. She had more than one man scoff at her over it, but she was attending. Yes, for her people, but also for… 

“Gilbert said he would be here” She complained to Roderich, she only saw German states, too many of them. The only child in her line of vision being Luxembourg, who Gilbert was far too interested in. Ludwig was supposed to be here, where was her Ludwig? Nine years since she had seen her second child, and if he wasn’t here today as Gilbert had promised she was ready to knock heads. She sighed, turning away from Roderich, who had been hovering next to her the whole time. Her breath caught in her throat, Gilbert had just entered the room after disappearing for a few minutes. He had a boy in his arms, no older than four, he made eye contact with Erzsébet. Every noise in the room seemed to dull as Gilbert said something to the boy and he looked in her direction; she saw her son for the first time in nine years.

“Papa!” The conversation was stopped abruptly as Ludwig came running back in the gate, his hands cupped around something. He stopped in front of his father, a big smile on his face, “Guess what Lise and I found!” 

Gilbert's entire demeanor changed, adopting the same excited tone as his seven year old son; “What did you and Lise find?” 

Liesl appeared just at that moment, sitting down in an empty chair between her parents. The fifteen year old girl trying to catch her breath, after chasing Ludwig around and then following him all the way back to the garden. Roderich couldn’t help but note she had gotten mud on the bottom of her skirt; she must have fallen at some point. 

Ludwig opened his hands just a little to show his father, who promptly made a face; “Show your aunt” Gilbert told Ludwig, Erzsébet was wary for a moment. It wasn’t often her not-technically-brother-in-law had kind things in mind for her. 

Ludwig half-ran the short distance, bouncing as he stood in front of her, “Do you want to hold it?” 

“Mmm” Erzsébet hummed a bit, she wasn’t scared of much when it came to insects, small snakes, amphibians, or really anything else Ludwig would be able to find right outside the garden gate. If it disgusted Gilbert though she really wasn’t sure if she wanted to know, he wasn’t put off by much either. 

“Don’t worry mama,” Liesl tucked her legs under her, much to her fathers disgust thinking about the mud getting on her underclothes as well; Erzsébet couldn’t help but roll her eyes at the mumbling. It’s not as if he did the laundry. “It’s nothing that will hurt you, Onkel Gilbert is just being a baby.” 

Gilbert feigned offense, even though everyone there knew Liesl and her uncle had been poking fun at each other for decades. Most said Liesl picked it up from her father. 

Erzí looked back to her nephew, who was still bouncing, eagerly waiting for her answer; “Okay fine, let me see it” 

She held her hands out and immediately had a small frog given to her. Erzsébet tried not to laugh, cupping one hand over the other to keep it from hopping away; “Hundreds of years on battlefields and you're disgusted by a grass frog?” 

“They’re slimy!” Gilbert argued, shaking his head as if the mere image of the frog disgusted him. Roderich rolled his eyes, he had no interest in holding the frog, but even he wasn’t so disgusted by such simple things. 

Erzsébet got out of her seat, setting the frog under a bush not far away, and watching it hop off. She noted the sun starting to disappear under the horizon. “I think it should be dinner time soon, what do you all think?” 

“Absolutely!” Gilbert stretched a little, wrapping his arm around Ludwig to doubly make sure the boy wouldn't slip off. “I’m starving, I could eat a horse” 

“I’m hungry too.” Ludwig followed his father. “I could eat two horses” 

“You know Ludwig, after dinner you have to go to bed” 

The small boy went quiet very quickly, before taking back his statement “I’m not hungry anymore.” 

A small chuckle came from all the adults, Erzsébet shrugged. “Then I suppose you can just watch while we all eat the goulash that’s simmering on the stove right now” 

Ludwig backpedaled once again, “No. I am hungry.” 

“Still so hungry you could eat two horses?” Erzsébet inquired. 

“Two and a half horses!”  

#hws austria #hws hungary #hws prussia #hwws germany #hetalia #apersonwhowrites

[apersonwholikeslotus]

Crush

Notes: IndChu? In our spy au? more likely than you think!

part of the spy au by @the-heaminator <3

ao3 link here: or under cut if you want to stay on tumblr!

Ivan and Arthur sat through one of the monthly meetings where they had to come to HQ with everything they had observed the last months, it was also time to show the highlight reel of cute pictures of Eleanor. Though that was usually last on the agenda. It could be worse really, the weekly ones were by phone so they didn’t have to travel so far every week; their lives were hectic enough as is, who knew four kids could have so many after school and weekend activities. 

Yoa droned on about them finding time to check somewhere on the other side of town for some secret drop off location they thought Lukawitz might be using. All three seemed relieved when there was a knock on the door; Yoa telling whoever it was to come in. His secretary appeared rattling on about some paperwork that needed to be signed and then sent to another branch of government. The agency sat on a fine line, though technically they were under the UN, for international clearance reasons, they worked most closely with the UK government, most of their agents being based there. 

“Thank you.” Yoa looked over the paperwork, pretty routine things that just needed to be signed off on. Reports to the MI5 to make sure the agency wasn’t doing anything that could put Britain in the middle of anything too big. One overall report was written every six months, specific instances being investigated as needed. “I’ll take it to Devi myself” 

This made Ivan and Arthur both stop, Yoa was high up, higher than even either of them. He didn’t take such routine reports directly to people. They were people to do that for him, tons of them. There were only two reasons for Yoa hand delivering them; something bigger was going on, or there was someone he needed–or wanted–to talk to. 

“Why are you taking it?” Ivan voiced it before Arthur could, 

“Waste of time isn’t it?” Arthur choroused, honestly both of them just wanted to avoid going back to the conversation at hand. It was dull and could be an email just as easily. 

“No, not really, I don’t have much-” 

The door opened again, Erzsébet standing there as if she had been listening the whole time: “He wants to see a certain Mr. Neeraj Devi,” before Arthur and Ivan could ask who that was Erzsí filled in the blanks, “He’s like the MI5 counterpart of Yoa, just way more interesting and hotter.” she sat down in the last empty chair, “Yoa has got a crush on him” 

Yoa sighed, Ii’m almost fifty years old. I don't have crushes.” he looked at the pile of paperwork to be signed, “and don’t you have work to do, Dr. Héderváry?” 

“Oooo titles, am I in trouble?” Despite the feigned fear in her voice she didn’t leave the room, or even get up from the chair. If anything she made herself more comfortable. 

“Who is Neeraj Devi?” Arthur voiced again louder, now wanting to know more about the person that had taken the sights of the ever single Wang Yoa. 

Erzsébet opened her mouth but was cut off, by her now very annoyed boss. “He’s my counterpart at MI5, in charge of a department like ours. I enjoy talking to him so I take the papers personally” 

She covered her mouth blocking from Yoa mouthing to Ivan and Arthur “and he has a crush on him” 

“I saw that Erzsébet” he sighed, scribbling something onto the paper, “You can go now. I’ll send you the rest of the notes” 

“No no” Ivan leaned back in his chair, though everyone in the room winced a bit at the creak it made under his weight. “I want to hear more about him” 

“It’s nothing” Yoa sounded more defensive the more they asked. “Even if I was interested in him it’s not like we could” 

“You can actually.” Erzsébet had done a lot of research into the rules on dating people outside of the agency, sure she was breaking it anyway with Roderich but at least she knew which rules she was breaking. “If they work for a government institute that has general knowledge of the agency it’s allowed.” 

Yoa grumbled something as she continued on saying he was just being a coward who instead of asking him out was making excuses to do errands below his pay grade to see him. 

“And if you were to have a crush on him,” 

“Adults don’t have crushes” 

Arthur rolled his eyes heavily, “Fine, you were to have interest in him. How would you ask him out?” 

“This isn’t–”

“C’monnnnn” Erzsí whined, “Humor us” 

“I don’t know, probably just for a few drinks, maybe at the horse and guardsmen” Despite how casual he tried to make it sound this answer had clearly been thought about. Points towards Erzsébet’s insistence he had a crush. 

“See! All worked out,” she was out of her chair and half pulling Yoa out of his chair, “Now take him those reports, and ask him if he would like to go out tonight! That’s an order” 

He huffed, trying to ignore Ivan and Arthur both attempting to hold in their laughter at the situation; “I hold seniority” 

“Actually as of section 18, clause B since I have a doctorate if we’re in my area of expertise I hold seniority over all of you.” 

“Isn’t your degree in International relations?” 

“Political theory, International relations, human rights, and matchmaking” She said it very flatly as if she were completely serious about the last bit, Ivan snorted though thoroughly tickled by the joke. Arthur shook his head trying to comprehend how much schooling he remembered Erzsí telling him she had done, not to mention how she brushed it off even to the point of asking for people to call her Miss Erzsí over Dr. Héderváry (except for if she didn’t like you; then God help you if you don’t call her Dr. Héderváry). 

Yoa huffed, “I have to take him the reports either way…” he watched Erzsí who had now taken to pouting to get him to do what she wanted. “And i suppose I’ll ask if he wants to go out for a drink, as friends” he tacked on to the end though it clearly pleased her enough. 

He left his office with the reports, making them promise to not make a mess of his office before leaving; “Matchmaking?” Arthur inquired, 

“Best in the business,” she smirked looking at Ivan and Arthur “I came up with the arrangement for you two and that has worked out quite well”

#project: plain old vanilla #hws china #hws india #hws russia #hws england #hws hungary #aushun #indchu #ruseng #hetalia #apersonwhowrites

[apersonwholikeslotus]

Trying to get an end paragraph for a fic and instead your mind comes up with a way to extend the fic for at least a few thousand words

#apersonwhowrites #I mean it WOULD make more sense for him to just lie and stick around #But I also want to just finish this to post it

[apersonwholikeslotus]

May 16th, 1900

Notes: technically a repost but the original is part of a chapter fic that i don't want to advertise right now because i don't have the energy to edit the whole thing

Warnings: None

Names bc i confuse folks sometimes

Liesl - Liechtenstein

Edith - Austria-Hungary (oc)

Evžen - Slovakia

Marika - Czechia (bohemia in this fic)

no ao3 link sorry :(

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Roderich, can you get Liesl and Edith?" Erzsébet yelled to her husband from the kitchen.

"Yes liebling," He responded back, getting up from his piano bench. Roderich made his way to the second floor where all the bedrooms were, last he had checked both his daughters were in Liesl's room playing. Before Edith was born Liesl had already started claiming she was too old to play–Ludwig had started to as well–but by the time Edith had grown to three years neither had any problems with the most trivial childhood games anymore.

He opened the bedroom door not expecting... "Papa! You can't move that it is holding the castle up!" Edith, five-years-old now, had immediately popped out from under a makeshift tent of blankets; held together by an array of chairs, the bedposts, and formerly the door handle.

"I'm sorry Mäuschen," he tried to sound as sincere as possible, "can I be forgiven?"

She pursed her lips, looking over her father intensively as if she were considering, "You will have to ask the queen for a pardon" she said the last word as if it were something she had just learned, and had been waiting to use.

"A pardon?" Now the amusement was hard to keep away from, "And where is the queen?"

"In the castle, where else would the queen be?"

"Preparing for the visit of her brother perhaps?" He said it as a reminder that Ludwig was coming today, both girls had been excited as their brother came around less and less as time went on. He was quickly becoming one of the most powerful nations in Europe and that was leaving him with less leisurely time. "Now come, we have things to do"

"No." Edith was extremely stubborn, took after her mother Roderich always said "You have to come in and get Liesl"

He looked over the blankets that took up most of the standing room in the bedroom, there was never a time when he would have done anything close to climbing across the floor to get a child out. Roderich remembered when Feliciano had first come to live with him, the Italian had only been twelve at the time and still had some of his childhood left; games were not a thing Roderich participated in.

He looked down at his second daughter, and sighed. "And where pray tell is the entrance?"

Edith smiled, quickly getting down on her hands and knees and crawling through a small opening; obviously expecting her father to follow after her. Roderich sighed, mumbling to himself about how he was getting too old to do things like this. The girls either didn't think about it, or obviously weren't expecting anyone bigger than a nineteen-year-old girl–and a petite one at that–to come through.

Once getting to what appeared to be the main part of their tent he found Liesl sitting cross legged, a paper crown, that he now recalled seeing the girls making earlier that morning, sitting on her head. "Hallo Papa"

"Hallo Schatzi" Roderich smiled, "I was told I had to come ask for a pardon for knocking over part of the castle"

She tried not to laugh "Is that what Edith said?"

Roderich nodded as Edith reappeared, now sporting her own paper crown. She sat down on a pile of pillows that he could only assume was serving as a makeshift 'throne' in their castle. Edith crossed her arms, looking as serious as a five year old is able to be; "What do you need from us?"

"Well" Roderich sat up a little straighter, which wasn't much considering he was trying to not knock his head into the roof of the tent. "I was sent by your mo-" He stopped deciding the best way to go about this would be to play along with their game, "I was sent by the queen Erzí of the neighboring kingdom, she invites you both to an outdoor banquet in honor of the visiting..." he trailed off trying to think of a title for Ludwig, "of Duke Lutz Von Beilschmidt"</p>

Edith turned to her older sister, "Do we have ties to Von Beilschmidt?" She asked, still acting very serious. 

Liesl knowing what her father was doing nodded, "Yes very serious ties" the younger of the girls pursed her lips, thinking it over very seriously. 

Roderich not wanting to have to drag this out any longer tacked on, "The viscountess, Marika of Bohemia and her Lover Evžen of Slovak with also be attending"

She considered this, then nodded, "We will come" She stood up, small enough to stand in the tent without knocking it over completely. While Liesl and Roderich still had to crawl to get out of the tent, Edith kept her crown on, but no longer bothered with keeping the tent up and she opened the door rushing downstairs to check for what must have been the seventh time to see if Ludwig had arrived yet. 

"Are Marika and Evžen really coming?" Liesl asked, looking back to the mess that was her room with all the blankets and pillows dragged off her bed.

"They are, don't worry you will still spend plenty of time with Ludwig" she nodded, setting her own paper crown on her dressing before going downstairs; Roderich followed not far behind while dusting at his pant legs and muttering about how he might have to change now.

Roderich stopped in the hall listening for a moment, he could hear the creaking of floor boards, that he knew was caused by Edith jumping up and down to be able to see over the top of the counter at whatever her mother was making. He heard his wife scolding the small girl, telling her she had just had breakfast, and 'these sandwiches are for lunch you can have one later'. Liesl, quiet as ever, was asking if there was anything she could help with; it was a normal routine for him to hear from his family. But it never became less endearing. 

He went into the kitchen, walking quietly up behind Edith. He knew Erzsébet saw him, it was close to impossible to sneak up on her. Roderich winked at his wife, using the fact that their daughter was still distracted begging to have a sandwich right now instead of waiting.

Just as he went to grab Edith, Erzí flipped around, "Roderich Edelstein, what are you doing?"

He feigned ignorance, holding his one hand to his chest, setting the other on Edith's head "I wasn't doing anything. I was just going to note that her braids are falling out"

The Hungarian woman rolled her eyes at her husband, knowing that is absolutely not all he had planned, "I think I left a brush in the sitting room, if you want to redo them"

"Oh I don't think I need it" Roderich picked Edith up, taking her over and setting her in a chair at the kitchen table, he took the now slightly crumpled crown of her head, and undid the ribbons on her braids, running his fingers through her hair to get the braids completely undone. Erszébet had never learned how to braid, and when Liesl was little she had tried to learn but always got them mixed up, and if they were done they fell out quite quickly. Roderich however took to doing it quite easily, and therefore almost always did the girls hair.

"Why doesn't Lutz come as much anymore?" Edith asked as she winced from the pulling on her hair.

"We've told you Mäuschen," Roderich answered "He is a big country, and is very busy"

"And uncle Gilbert doesn't like us anymore"

"Liesl!" Erzí responded quickly to her daughters statement, "That isn't true, your uncle likes you and your sister plenty" she stopped momentarily, a small smirk on her lips "He just doesn't like your father"

Roderich tried not to act too offended at his wife's amusement on the subject, "When you get older you'll be just as busy, then you will understand"

"I don't want to be busy" she crossed her arms, "Mama can I not do work when I get big?"

Erzsébet hummed in thought for a moment, turning to look Edith up and down, "Hmmm, I don't know, ask your Father. 

"Papa?"

Roderich shook his head, "You won't have a choice, Mäuschen. You are Austria-Hungary, meaning many people will depend on you in the future just as they depend on your mother and I now"

"I don't want to be Austria-Hungary," the five-year-old stated it very seriously, her arms still crossed a determined look on her face, "I'll be somewhere else"

"Like where?" Liesl asked, from her spot where she sat on the counter across the kitchen, 

Edith's face lit up, "I'll be Liechtenstein! And then you can be Austria-Hungary!”

There was a decision to be made now, Edith was stubborn and if she was insistent they could switch lands; they would switch lands. "Bébi," Erzí ventured carefully, "That has never been done before"

"Then we'll be first to do it!"

Roderich, Erzsébet, and Liesl gave each other a look, the tone said she wasn't going to be convinced otherwise. Two options, let Erzí argue with her over it–she is the only one capable of doing so–or let it go, and let her eventually figure it out herself. If they weren't going out as soon as Ludwig arrived, the first option would have been the usual, but since they were and wanted her to be at the very least cooperative, for now they would let it go.

“When will Ludwig get here?" Liesl asked, she hopped off the counter, now just realizing there was something that had now gotten on her skirt. Before anyone could answer, the front door was heard opening; Roderich thanked God he had already finished her hair as the moment Edith heard it, she jumped down and ran to the front hall. Ludwig never knocked as he had spent half of his childhood in Vienna; you don't knock at your parents house.

Edith came back in looking upset, "It's just Dražen"

"I thought he already left for the day?"

"He forgot his jacket" she slinked over to Erzsébet, burying her head in her mothers skirts.

Erzí tried not to roll her eyes, "You're going to pout now?" she looked up at Roderich and mouthed 'this comes from you'; he tried not to be offended by it. He knew she was right though, even he could admit he was more... prone to being upset when something small didn't happen like he wanted it to. Meanwhile, his wife was much better at adjusting, or making things go as she wanted them to, and thankfully Liesl had inherited that.

The door opened and closed again, and footsteps quickly started nearing the kitchen. "Edith, why don't you go check if that's your brother?" Erzsébet asked, trying to get her daughter to let go of her.

"It's not, it's probably Evžen, or Dražen forgetting his watch or something" she mumbled, not moving from her spot.

Erzsébet tried not to sigh too heavily, it was true they had so many people living in this house it could be any number of people. Not to mention Dražen was known for forgetting things and coming back to the house four times before he finally had everything.

Ludwig walked in the kitchen though Edith didn't see him due to her continued pouting streak. Roderich smiled at him and said quite loudly "Mäuschen, would you look who is here?"

"It's a trick" she said, still not moving. "I don't believe that Lutz is here yet, you're just being mean"

Liesl meanwhile rolled her eyes at her little sister, wiping her hands on her dress and going over to hug her brother; "Hallo Lutz"

"It's nice to see you, Lise," he said, hugging her back tightly. Edith hearing his voice pulled her face away looking over, "Hallo Ditte"

She stood there for a moment, looking up to her mother with a sheepish expression, and it took everything in Erzí's power to not give her daughter a 'I told you so' look. Edith let go of her mother and quickly went over to her brother, Ludwig let go of Liesl to be able to pick her up. "No hello?" he asked jokingly, when she didn't respond instead holding on to him continuing to pout, he shook his head "Okay, I missed you too"

"How are you doing Lutz?" Roderich asked after his nephew,

"I've been well, I-"

"Well? My goodness you look more than well!" Erzsébet came over, her usual motherly ramblings already starting, "Have you gotten taller since we last saw you? You're definitely older; you must have passed Liesl by now."

Liesl huffed from where she had sat next to her father at the kitchen table, nations and people didn't age the same and sometimes younger could pass the elders in age: Liesl hadn't taken kindly to her baby cousin getting older than her. "He's still younger than me"

"Of course I am," Ludwig added, he had found that he preferred being Liesl's younger. Being older than her just made him feel odd, and odd was the last thing he wanted right now.

"How are Gilbert and Reiner?" Erzsébet asked about the two men now in charge of Ludwig after her husband had been removed from the union.

"Papa is well, and uncle Reiner is..." he laughed a bit and shrugged, "he’s in a mood about something though no one will tell me what.” 

"Good good,” Roderich clearly had not listened to the second part, or maybe any of it “now can we not bring them up again? The last things I want to speak of on such a lovely day are Prussia and Brandenburg" Roderich butt back into the conversation at the mention of the two men.

"Of course Vati, sorry" Ludwig said, trying to set Edith back down but she was refusing to let go.

Roderich waved his hand in a dismissive motion, "No need to apologize, Edith Stefania let go of your cousin” 

Edith finally let go, just as from the hall came, "Evžen, I am aware you're 'trying' but I need better than 'trying'!"

The room shared a curious look, Marika and Evžen fought a lot so it was no surprise, just curiosity at what he did wrong this time to earn another scolding from her. It was only eleven thirty, and hard to think of an offense that could have been made already. The bickering continued as the came into the kitchen, "Would both of you please shut it"

"He didn't wake me up in time this morning!" Marika quickly responded,

You looked so peaceful láska–"

"How many times have I told you not to call me that!"

"You didn't mind so much last night-"

"Children!" Erzsébet snapped at them, gesturing particularly to Edith. The two had an absolutely horrid reputation of forgetting where they were and whose company they were in when in the middle of their arguments; and more often than not needed someone to remind them where they were before it got too heated.

Marika finally looked around the room noticing who all was there, she stopped at Ludwig, "You."

"Me?" he questioned, obviously confused at what he had done to upset her this time.

She groaned, "That's not how you're supposed to... I miss Adelheid"

"We all do, but now is not the day to reminisce over what's gone. It is a day to make new memories for the future" Roderich stated getting up from his chair, "Marika would you mind?" he half gestured to Edith.

She sighed, "No I wouldn't" and held her hand out to Edith "Come, lets go get your jacket and shoes on"

"I'll show Lutz where he's staying" Liesl quickly volunteered, getting up from her chair. 

"I know where the room is" Ludwig always stayed in the same room, there would be no reason for anyone to show him where it was.

"No, something happened there, so you're staying somewhere else." Erzsébet and Roderich looked just as, if not more, confused by that statement than Ludwig was. Liesl must have noticed her parents' confusion and not wanting to answer questions pulled him out before any could be asked.

"Do we want to know what Liesl and Edith did?" Roderich asked his wife, as they were the only two left in the kitchen.

Erzí shook her head, "No I don't think we do, at least not right now"

"Then shall we go Frau Edelstein?"

She tried not to roll her eyes at him, but still had a smirk on her lips, "You know I don't like it when you call me that"

"I waited for centuries to, I'm going to do so as much as possible. Unless you divorce me for it"

#hws austria #hws hungary #hws liechtenstein #hws germany #hws czechia #hws slovakia #hws austria-hungary #hetalia #apersonwhowrites #aushun

[apersonwholikeslotus]

for: @hetalia-advent-calender

day four, the Christmas tree wars.

Notes: I call Finland Kasper, and Estonia Kalev just bc I don't like their canon names.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“1441” Kalev stated it very clearly. 

“You’re lying, I was first, and it was 1510” Raivis countered, just as serious about the matter. 

Everyone groaned knowing not a single decoration would go up until this had been solved. Every year they all agreed ‘decorating one of our houses together will be fun! Let’s all get together and do it!” and every year this happens. Every year Natalya claimed if it happened again she would leave and not come the next year, and every year she came back anyway. Every year Gilbert and Feliks got a snack and started whispering bets on who would storm off first. Every year Erzsébet would “gently” suggest they stop, while holding Kasper back from jumping in on Kalev’s side. deciding it wasn’t worth it. Adéla and Evžen were really the only two who would leave after hearing enough of it, usually Adéla being the one to drag him off. 

Tolys however, counted himself stuck with it. Part of him wanted to walk away and let them burn down the house if they wanted to; part of him wanted to just join Raivis’ side on account of them being brothers. 

He couldn’t let them burn the house down though, they were at his house anyway, and he liked his house not burnt to a crisp. He couldn’t just join Raivis’ side hoping to tip the scale either, because he was sure then Erzsí would let Kasper join Kalev’s side. Not many people scared Tolys, but Kasper certainly did. 

“I think you’re the one lying” Kalev turned back to the box of decorations, as if he had just ended the argument by accusing the other.

It wasn’t often Raivis looked angry, but now he was seething. “If I was lying, why would I make up a date later than yours?” He went back to the ornament carrier, Tolys almost turned to get a broom just then; better prepared for shattered ornaments. 

“To make it more believable of course.” 

“Exactl-” Kasper spoke up, Erzsébet dragging him back into his seat, saying something about how Kalev can fight his own battles; the Finn grumbling back about how he didn’t think he could. 

Raivis now had an ornament in his hand, a heavy one too. While he was headed for the tree, no one questioned his ability to change his mind at the last minute and throw it at Kalev. Tolys was honestly preparing for it. 

“It wouldn’t make sense for me to do that” he hesitated putting it on the tree, everyone held their breath-

“What if we just google it?” Feliks asked, even for once seeming annoyed at the night's entertainment. “And we can just say whatever that says as the truth for tonight” 

Tolys let out said breath, “That sounds like a good idea, you can argue about it any night but we would all like to decorate tonight” 

Both huffed and puffed, but agreed to the very temporary probably-wouldn’t-even-do-anything solution. Feliks pulled out his phone typing it in, reading out loud; “Who had the first christmas tree”

Gilbert leaned over his shoulder watching as he hit search, and the screen loaded the answer. Feliks rolled his eyes, knowing the other had seen what it said, Gilbert smiled a shit eating grin; “‘Germany is credited with starting the christmas tree tradition as we now know it’ suck on that losers!” 

Tolys registered what had been read, oh this wouldn’t do at all. 

“What was your argument again, Raivis?"

#apersonwhowrites #hetaliadvent2023 #hws lithuania #hws latvia #hws estonia #hws prussia #hws poland #hws hungary #hws finland

[apersonwholikeslotus]

This is technically from a wip game i was tagged in months ago but I feel like talking about wip's so (im not doing the tag part i just left the rules so y'all know whats up)

Rules: Reveal the titles of the documents in your WIP folder and tag as many people as there are documents. Let others ask questions about the ones that interest them and post snippets or explain the contents as you see fit!

The Bookseller & The Florist - The NedAme fic i've been posting, title is pretty explanatory even if you haven't been reading it.

The Ex - a week or so after Icelands birthday they're throwing a pseudo party for him in Dublin. Feat. Romano going "????" bc him and Norway are absolute opposites but Ire used to date Nor? and is now dating him?

Memories - A Spain fic that exists as two paragraphs and a very vague idea, i want to write for it i just don't know,,, how,,,,?

After the Fall - Germania and family finally heading back North after Odoacer overthrew Romulus Augustus, mostly family centered fluff/some internal-ish angst on Germania's part. (nightmares that he won't talk about, and leave him feeling isolated)

Natalya in Constantinople - title is a placeholder that's a joke off Emily in Paris. Belarus living in Constantinople before it falls, a lot of character/family tree building, less actual story if that makes sense.

Sons of Henrik - Early viking age, All of the Central Germanics/Anglo-Saxons have converted to Christianity and 'abandoned everything we were taught'; Denmark and Sweden feel like their family has turned their backs on them as well and they're angry about it. Norway is very conflicted on exact feelings, arguing that their recently deceased Father (Germania) wouldn't want infighting in the family. Nothing really gets solved. (Inspired by some guys Quora rant about the Saxon Wars triggering the Viking Age, not sure if they're actually connected at all but it was interesting to read at least.)

Scandals - Roderich and Antonio are married, Erzsébet is involved with both of them. It gets out, and nobles love to gossip. (another one of the less fleshed out ones but still)

Father - Brandenburg and Germany get into a fight; mostly centered around a legitimate "your not my dad" feeling. Brandenburg snaps and accidentally tells Germany "well Gilbert wasn't either!" cue Ludwig's entire world crumbling as he finds out his entire family has been lying since he was born.

#apersonwhowrites

[apersonwholikeslotus]

The Hall Light

It's short! It's dumb! I think it's cute! It's based of this peice of art by @rosethreeart!! enjoy!

~~~~~~

Lars yawned, blinking the sleep from his eyes. He rolled over seeing it was nearly three am; he closed his eyes knowing he only had a few minutes to fall back asleep before his body decided it was time to get up. Right as he closed his eyes though, he noticed a streak of light coming in through the door, which was opened a crack. Someone had left the hall light on, he wouldn’t be able to sleep without turning it off now. 

The bed shifted as he got up, but before he could even stand he heard what could be no other sound but Abby sticking her head out of her cocoon of blankets. She yawned loudly, “where are you going?” “To turn the hall light off, I’ll be right back” she whined, grabbing the back of his shirt. Intent on him not going anywhere even if it was just for a moment. 

“You can’t,” she tried to keep him in bed, “Because as soon as you try to get the light you will remember a hundred other things you forgot to do and then you’ll just be up” 

Lars pulled away, standing turning to face her “I won’t thirty seconds” 

Abby mumbled something under her breath, but burrowed herself back in her blankets conceding thirty seconds for him to turn off the hall light and get back in bed. Plus she knew if she didn’t let him turn it off they would be up the rest of the night listening to him grumble about the electric bill. 

As promised Lars went to the other side of the hall, turned off the light, managed to step on only one of Mason’s toys on the way back to the bedroom; and climbed back in bed “twenty-six seconds” he told her, “I counted” 

“Of course you did” she was already half asleep, just happy he was back next to her. The room went silent again, the only sounds being the crickets outside still kicking up a ruckus. 

The bed shifted again, Lars rolling over checking the time and saying something to himself about having time to get up and do it quickly. Abigail rolled her eyes, trying to keep herself from saying “I told you so”. 

“What is it you forgot?” she didn’t even open her eyes asking the question in a slightly annoyed voice. 

“The laundry I put on before bed,” he started to get up, “I could go put it out to dry now. Then be able to wear my favorite shirt tomorrow” 

He was already up, and back down the hall. Swearing quietly as he stepped on Mason’s toy and stumbled a bit again. Abby, knowing it was too late to stop her husband, sat up, shedding most of her blanket cocoon, except for one which she kept around her shoulders for coziness reasons. She followed him down the hall, and the stairs to the laundry room off the kitchen. 

She stood there tapping her foot watching him pull the laundry out of the washer, sorting it into things that could be put in the dryer and things that had to be hung out to dry. 

“Lars, you promised-” she stopped rubbing her eyes, still getting used to the light that he had turned on. “You have hair in your mouth” “I always have hair in my mouth” she grumbled but pushed all her hair out of the way anyway. “You promised just the light” 

“The light and the laundry. Go back to bed” He hung up the aforementioned favorite shirt, and closed the washer as he tossed the last of the odds and ended in the dryer turning it on. “And I’ll come with… right after I double check I-” “No.” Abby grabbed his arm, shivering as she lost her blanket cloak in the process. “We’re going back to bed, and you can check it in the morning” 

He sighed but didn’t argue, only stopping to pick the blanket up, as he followed her back upstairs. Abby didn’t get in bed until Lars was, where she then got in bed and climbed right on top of him. 

“What are you doing?” he laughed as she pulled the blankets back on top of them, putting her head on his chest once she was satisfied. “Making sure you don’t get up once I’m asleep again” she stated, curling up and getting comfortable. Lars was pretty sure she was a centimeter away from bruising a few of his ribs. 

He put his arms around her, “I told you I’m not leaving” 

“And now I know you won’t” she yawned, Lars didn’t sleep with nearly as many blankets as his wife did, and with her laying on top of him he was already feeling warm but didn’t dare move as she fell back asleep on top of him. 

Lars started to drift off as well, before opening one eye noticing something; 

“The hall light is on” he whispered 

“Don’t you fucking dare move”

#hws netherlands #hws america #nyo!america #hetalia #apersonwhowrites

[apersonwholikeslotus]

my toxic trait is asking if anyone wants a fic about something and then when getting a yes never actually finishing or posting said fic

#this is specifically an apology to marshy bc that Austria & Bavaria thing is not getting finished anytime soon </3 #apersonwhowrites

[apersonwholikeslotus]

@polpruweek day 1, sword fighting

Warnings: None

Notes: ahhh i tried, okay. I think it ended up more snarky then romantic but oh well.

~~~~~~~~

“Can’t we use real swords” Gilbert flung the stick at Feliks again, trying his best to knock his opponents ‘sword’ out of his hand. They had been doing this for hours and both were starting to get annoyed. 

“No, cause you’ll definitely cut me!” Feliks stepped out of the way at the last minute, the truth was he wanted to use real swords too. They would get in trouble though using them inside, and he didn’t want to get in trouble anymore.

“That’s what makes it fun!” Gilbert laughed as Feliks continued to back up as Gilbert got closer to him, the stick may not be able to cut him but it sure could leave a nasty bruise. Feliks was backed into a corner, the only way out would hypothetically be to duck under Gilbert, but he wasn’t sure if wanted to try doing that. 

Gilbert looked far too pleased with himself, “Give up yet?” 

“Not until you tell me how you got so good at this,” Feliks backed up, even farther. Almost pressed against the wall trying to stay as far away from Gilbert as possible. 

“I was a teutonic knight, Feliks,” Gilbert just stepped closer, waving the stick threateningly in the other person's face. 

“Plenty of those guys had bark that didn’t own up to their bite” Feliks smirked trying his best to hide the fact that he was nervous. 

“Oh but mine does” Gilbert was clearly enjoying being in charge of the situation, both were clearly tired from the hours on end of doing this. Gilbert insisted they wouldn’t stop until Feliks beat him, Feliks failed to beat Gilbert over and over and over. 

“Prove it then” he smiled, Gilbert had plenty of chances to knock Feliks off his feet. Send him spiraling to the ground, yet had purposefully ignored every chance. Feliks was sure it was on purpose, Gilbert had proved himself far too competent at this to miss such an easy move. 

“How should I do that?” Gilbert stepped even closer, able to feel Feliks’ breath now. 

“Knock me off my feet, declare yourself the winner, then i can finally go inside” 

Gilbert looked almost surprised, hiding it “Not worried about getting your hair dirty, your majesty?” he teased. 

Feliks playfully hit him in the chest, as if he were trying to push him away yet there was no force behind it. “Unless you have something else you want, that we can call a defeat” 

Gilbert hummed, “A kiss would do I guess” 

Feliks was unable to hide it, blushing heavily. “I thought you said you weren’t going to knock me off my feet?” 

“Oh true, this way would mess up your hair too wouldn’t it?”

#polpruweek2023 #apersonwhowrites #hetalia #aph prussia #hws prussia #aph poland #hws poland #prupol

[apersonwholikeslotus]

Accidents happen, don't they?

Characters: Wales, England, Scotland, Ireland

Warnings: Talk of xenophobia, colonization, arson, and intrusive thoughts

Notes: I'm ok i promise, i very rarely write truly unhinged stuff and this really isn't that bad. It is all under a cut for a reason though, and i am only posting it for @the-heaminator. I wrote this forever ago, and i don't feel like editing it so whatever it is, it is.

Dylan's life had been hell since the Romans showed up.

It had gotten marginally better, then worse, so much worse. The damn Germanic tribes that showed up were worse than the Romans, they didn't just want to conquer the area they wanted everyone else gone. They wanted everything for themselves. The anger he felt at being called a stranger on his own land was worse than anything else, everyone he knew was gone 'England' taking their place. The first time he met William he thought maybe they could work things out, maybe they could agree to leave each other alone. That couldn't happen either though could it? The Englishman was no better than the tribes that had come, he was the same, he was worse. And he was proud of being worse, he took Wales, then Scotland, and Ireland. He took a third of the world, disposing of anyone who got in his way.

Dylan eventually decided he had to agree with William or get out of his way, agreeing and at least being seen, even if it was barely, was better then being pushed off to the side completely. That's not how it worked though? Even if you did everything in your power to corporate, he still treated you like trash. The flag of the United Kingdom, England, Scotland and Northern Ireland. No Wales in sight.

Dylan remembered Angus leaving back in 1607, he couldn't deal with William anymore. He went to Jamestown, Dylan had wanted to leave but both of them couldn't go. 'Go Angus, I'll be fine' Why did he tell him to go? Dylan questioned everyday why he didn't instead.

Then one day James Cook was leaving, Dylan didn't tell anyone. He didn't utter a word to a soul, he left a note. Hidden enough that it wouldn't be found immediately, clear enough that someone would find it in a few days. He sailed around the world for three years; he felt the most free he had been in over a thousand years. No one could find him, especially William. When the time came that he had to go home, he didn't want to. Three years, everyone on the voyage was exhausted and homesick. Dylan wanted to stay out there, he wanted to keep sailing and never have to return to London; never have to return to the beck and call of England. He seriously considered hopping off at a random port, far away from Europe. If he hid well enough it would take decades for anyone to find him, the empire was expanding though. The crown would find him eventually, and the punishment would not be something that made it worth it.

Angus had gotten too close to Alfred, enough that the small boy called him dad, William found a way to have him locked up for seven years. Seven years because a colony called someone besides England dad. Seven years in prison, on top of being suddenly separated from... from his own child, then the Darien Scheme failing: Angus hadn't always been an alcoholic. Don't believe anyone who tells you otherwise. Dylan didn't want to imagine what decades of disappearing would be punished with, if a three letter word from a toddler meant that much.

Three years was bad enough, he got back to a scolding from someone half his age. Then the King was mad at him, Dylan swore this many people had never even paid attention to him before. William was snappier at him after all of that, he never gave him a break. Said he had to make up for galavanting across the world instead of tending to his duties as an independent nation. Dylan had to stop himself from laughing in his half-brother's face; Wales? An independent nation? Why had no one informed him that he was one?

"You're lucky, Dylan"

He could hear Molly's voice in his head. She had told him that during the great hunger, she had shown up in London solely because Angus had promised to lend her some money so she could go to the US to stay with their nephew until things got better–if they even did–. Why? He had thought to himself, because he wasn't currently starving? Because he wasn't having to flee his home? He wasn't living in his own land though was he? London wasn't his. He had been mad at her for saying that for far too long.

Dylan knew most people didn't wish for bad things to befall other people, he wasn't even sure where the idea came from. He just knew one night he was sitting in bed, the window was open blowing the curtains a little too close to a candle that sat on a table. The first thought was rational,

"I need to either blow out the candle, or close the window, or the house might burn down"

The second thought, the small voice in the back said

'Or Angus isn't home, he won't be for a long time' Dylan was almost confused himself as to where the thought might be going. 'You could get Fiachra and go on an errand, William is sleeping, if the house happened to catch on fire and he didn't get out in time, what could be done?'

Dylan wanted to say terribly that he didn't consider the thought, he wanted to say that he almost didn't get up to get his shoes and coat. He wanted to say that he wasn't in the doorway, shoes on and coat tucked under his arm; about to go get Fiachra and make something up about a late night grocery store run: before finally realizing he was insane. Half-running across the room and blowing out the candle quickly.

You can't do that. He had to say it to himself over and over and over while putting his shoes and coat back in his closet.

He had to repeat it to himself the next morning when he turned on the stove.

He had to tell it to himself the next week when they lit the fireplace for the first time in the season.

He had to remind himself whenever he lit a cigarette, and stared at the flame on the lighter a little too long.

Something in the back of his mind always said though; "accidents happen? Don't they?" 

and if a candle was forgotten, and William was asleep in his room, Alone in the house, it would be counted as an accident.

Wouldn't it?

#aph wales #hws wales #aph scotland #hws scotland #aph england #hws england #aph ireland #hws ireland #hetalia #british isles siblings #uk bros #tw: arson #tw: intrusive thoughts #tw: alchohol mention #tw: xenophobia #tw: colonialism #my gosh so many tws #apersonwhowrites

[apersonwholikeslotus]

artists 🤝 writers

looking up reference pictures bc we forget what the fuck people sitting looks like

#me googling “sitting on the couch with your legs in someone else's lap” bc why is it so hard to describe this stuff when you haven't seen #it in your recent memory #apersonwhowrites