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agerefandom · 3 years

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Bedtime Tears

Fandom: Hetalia

Characters: Regressor!Italy/Feliciano, cgs Germany/Ludwig and Japan/Kiku

Words: 1,650

Summary: Feliciano has been having trouble with bedtime lately. Ludwig and Kiku are concerned.

Warnings: tantrums, tears/shouting, some little smooches (hand, forehead, cheek), mild physical intervention (Feliciano is using his hitting hands, Ludwig holds them, Feliciano is unhappy)

“But I don’t want to go to bed! No!”

Ludwig glanced up from his computer screen, hearing Feliciano’s voice echo from downstairs. This was becoming an unfortunately common occurrence, Feliciano having tantrums before bedtime. Ludwig could hear the faint murmur of Kiku’s voice, and hoped he’d be able to reason with the regressor.

His hopes were shattered by the next shout.

“I won’t go! You can’t make me! I want to draw and play with Alto and stay up! Please Kiku, please don’t make me go…” Ludwig could hear the tears beginning to fill Feliciano’s voice, and he pushed himself to his feet with a heavy sigh. Kiku panicked around tears, which meant it was time for intervention. Ludwig double-checked that his work was saved, closed his email, and headed downstairs.

“Ludwig!!” As soon as he stepped off the last stair, Feliciano crashed into Ludwig’s chest. He was in full tantrum mode, tears streaming down his face. “Please, please, please, don’t make me go to bed! You know I’ll be good, don’t you? You wouldn’t make me leave?”

“What is all this trouble?” Ludwig said, putting a hand on Feliciano’s head. Such a small man, their Feliciano. How so much energy fit into that tiny body, Ludwig would never understand. “Why are you giving Kiku backtalk about bedtime?”

“I don’t want to sleep!” Feliciano sobbed. “I don’t want to stop playing.”

“You will be able to play more in the morning,” Kiku murmured, appearing behind Feliciano with no warning. Ludwig managed not to jump, having lived with the other man’s soundless movements for years. “Bed is important for little ones.”

“No!!” Feliciano slammed his fists against Ludwig’s chest. “No bedtime!”

“Feliciano, we don’t hit each other in this house,” Ludwig said severely, catching Feliciano’s hands before he could draw them back for another strike. “Even if you are upset, we do not hurt others.”

“But it didn’t hurt you,” Feliciano accused, tugging against Ludwig’s grip ineffectually. “You’re strong and I’m weak and… please don’t make me go.”

“We have rules for a reason. We don’t hit, and bedtime is ten pm. Those are the rules we agreed on.” Ludwig squinted down at Feliciano’s wriggling form, tugging uselessly against Ludwig’s grip. He wasn’t really holding him that tightly, but he kept his grasp. “You know that.”

“Let me go!” Feliciano finally huffed, and Ludwig immediately released his hands. Feliciano spun on his heel and ran off out of the room, fast enough that Ludwig could imagine a dust cloud spinning in his wake.

“Mien Gott.” Ludwig sat down on the stairs, staring at the doorway Feliciano had disappeared through. “This is the third night he’s fought us about bedtime. What’s gotten into him?”

“I don’t know.” Kiku frowned slightly. “He seemed happy before bed came up. He had no problems with his nap earlier. Do you think he had a nightmare?”

“And didn’t wake us? I doubt it.” Ludwig was well used to Feliciano’s nightmares, and he always woke them up crying, desperate for cuddles (and often for a midnight snack). “I’m going to find him.”

“Good luck.” Kiku sighed, and pushed back his bangs for a moment. “Tell him I’m not angry, if he worries.”

“I will.”

Ludwig pressed a kiss to Kiku’s forehead and headed out the door after their upset regressor. He hesitated in the hallway: Feliciano loved playing hide-and-seek, and he was notoriously good at it. Ludwig would never have guessed how many places Feliciano could curl his body up to fit inside. Once he’d found Feliciano in the cabinet over the fridge, with no idea how he’d gotten up there.

Now there was a house stretching ahead of Ludwig, with any number of tiny corners that could be hiding the little boy he was looking for.

“Feliciano!” Ludwig called, and regretted the military tone he automatically slipped into. Wincing, he made a conscious effort to soften his voice. “Feliciano, please come talk to me.”

There was no answer. Behind him, he could hear Kiku beginning to neaten the living room, putting away some of Feliciano’s toys.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are,” Ludwig said, beginning to walk towards the kitchen. “We won’t make you go to bed, I promise. We’re ready to listen.”

“Pinky promise?” asked Feliciano’s tearful voice from somewhere behind Ludwig.

“Yes, Liebling, I pinky promise.” Ludwig turned, holding out his pinky. Feliciano cautiously emerged from the basement door, a cobweb caught in his hair.

“I- I’m sorry.” Feliciano ducked his head and came forwards to hook his pinky into Ludwig’s, avoiding the other man’s eyes. “Am I in trouble?”

“You’re not in trouble,” Ludwig said. “Will you come and sit with us?”

“Okay, bene,” Feliciano said meekly. “I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing.” Ludwig turned on his heel and led the way back to the living room, Feliciano trailing behind him. He hated seeing Feliciano like this, so quiet and withdrawn, eyes still shiny with tears. But he had broken the rules, and it was clear there was a problem. Ludwig should not give in and fall back on tickles, on chocolate milk, or on big warm hugs to save the day. They needed to talk.

Kiku looked up from his tidying and straightened when he saw Feliciano behind Ludwig. Wordlessly, he held out his arms. Feliciano choked on a sob and ran straight into the embrace, clinging to Kiku.

“I’m sorry!” Feliciano bawled. “I’m sorry I yelled, and I was such a brat, and I won’t do it ever again! I wouldn’t blame you if you left forever and didn’t want to see me, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

“Hush, little one.” Kiku patted Feliciano’s head. “It is alright. We will talk about what you need.”

“O-okay.” Feliciano drew back from the hug, wiping his nose and eyes. Ludwig sighed and grabbed several Kleenexes from the box on the side table, approaching the weeping boy.

“Blow,” he instructed, holding one of the tissues to Feliciano’s nose. Feliciano obediently blew his nose with a sad honking noise. “Good. Again.” Once Feliciano’s nose was clean, Ludwig used the other tissues to wipe his cheeks and clean the fingers Feliciano had been using to wipe his snot. “There. All done.”

Ludwig straightened and went into the kitchen to throw the used Kleenexes in the garbage, and by the time he got back, Feliciano and Kiku were both sitting on the couch. Ludwig sat on Feliciano’s left side, so that he was between his two caregivers.

“Okay, let’s talk. Why are you so upset about bedtime, Liebling? You know you need sleep.”

“I know.” Feliciano teared up again, his eyes cast down to his hands. “I’m sorry. It’s silly.” Ludwig couldn’t tell if Feliciano was still regressed or not, but he waited patiently.

“It’s just-” Feliciano broke off, sniffling. Ludwig passed him the box of Kleenexes, which got him a small watery smile. “Well, Ludwig, you’re so busy. I hate going to sleep because I know you’re staying up.”

“Feliciano…” Ludwig stared at him, at a loss for words. “I don’t have free time at night to play, honestly. I go to bed as soon as I finish working.”

“I know that.” Feliciano curled up, hiding his face with a tissue. “I guess I just hope? That you might have time? And when I go to bed, that hope is over. And I can’t. I can’t let go of the hope.”

“Schatz, I’m sorry.” Ludwig tugs Feliciano into his arms, cradles him close. “I’m sorry I’ve been so busy and I didn’t realize you were missing me.”

“I know your work is important,” Feliciano sniffled. “I shouldn’t… be so upset.”

“No, no!” Ludwig held him closer. “My work isn’t as important as you are. I could be delegating more of it. You know me, I… I like to keep a close eye on things. But I have a good team. They can handle some of the work.”

“Really?” Feliciano’s big eyes peeked up at Ludwig from behind his Kleenex.

“Absolutely.” Ludwig nodded, determined. “In fact, I would like to call in sick tomorrow and spend the day with you.”

“REALLY?” Feliciano’s mouth dropped open.

“Yes, really.”

“It will be good to see you more,” Kiku put in, placing a hand on Ludwig’s arm where it curled around Feliciano. “I have also been missing you.”

“I missed you both as well,” Ludwig admitted. “It’s been a long few weeks. I think a break with my favourite people will be… good.” The anxiety was already twisting in his stomach at the thought of taking a full day off work, but he pushed it back. This was his family. They deserved his time. Things at the company wouldn’t fall apart just because he stepped away for one day.

“I love you,” Feliciano whispered, pressing his face against Ludwig’s chest.

“I love you too,” Ludwig said, cradling Feliciano’s head carefully. “Now, why don’t we go brush your teeth and cuddle in bed?”

“That sounds nice.”

Feliciano looked halfway to falling asleep in Ludwig’s arms already, his eyelashes brushing his cheeks as he blinked longer and slower, his eyes clearly resisting being open.

“I’ll see you in bed,” Ludwig said to Kiku, and was met with a quiet smile and nod. Kiku reached out and smoothed Feliciano’s hair back from his face, then sat back.

“I look forward to it.”

“Love you!!” Feliciano said, reaching towards Kiku.

“I love you too.” Kiku caught Feliciano’s hand, pressed a small kiss to his palm, and stood. “Be nice for Ludwig, and I’ll see you soon.”

“You guys really are the best,” Feliciano said, sleepily returning to Ludwig’s embrace. “I want to be with you forever.”

“We’re not going anywhere,” Ludwig promised, and he meant it.

#hetalia agere #agere writing #agere fanfic #sfw agere #fandom agere #agere stories #and that's the last of the requests from the last batch!! whoo!!#feliciano is such an adventure to write #lord help me #my stories #my writing #my fics #(today on 'stella can't remember their own tagging system')#hetalia

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blackevermore · 3 years

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x Once Upon A Dream

Summary: Ivan’s dreams can be soft, they can be warm, they can leave a smile on his face. And sometimes he has nightmares that are a haunting reminder to his past. But tonight he will dream of something beautiful

Notes: I got the idea for this story while reading Historical Hetalia and it was suppose to go a different route but I guess I wanted something cute and fluffy.

Word Count: 3, 508

Ivan had many dreams that he could and couldn’t remember. Dreams that he wished he could hold on to and stay in and never awaken from. He had dreams where his house was full of life and familiar faces. Dreams of people he hasn’t seen in years sitting casually in his sitting room enjoying their time. He even had dreams of people he couldn’t recall the names of but he knew they were important, so much so, he would hug them tight and welcome them home. But just like every good dream, there are nightmares waiting to have its turn. And Ivan wasn’t mentally capable of keeping them away long enough. The one he hated the most was of him as a young nation running in the dead of winter through the woods. He never knew what was chasing him, he could never figure it out, he had so many ‘what if’s’ but not enough closure. So when he flinches awake in the bitter cold of his bedroom sweating and panting he forgets that now he isn’t alone. Trying to catch his breath and calm himself down he realizes it’s so cold inside his room he can see his breath, and the body beside him is starting to stir awake.

When he can feel the shaking in his chest settle he kicks over his feet and leaves the bed. The cold will follow him and leave her alone. He grabs a robe to cover himself despite being able to handle a slight dip in temperature. But this cold is different, it freezes him from the inside, it’s near his heart. His heart? Ivan rams a hand up to his chest to feel if something is missing, again. It’s there, still inside and nested, he was grateful he wouldn’t have to go back into his bedroom to find it. He continues through the large halls of his home till he finds the kitchen. He shouldn’t drink in the late hours but it’s what he knows to make the shivering stop. With a bottle of vodka in one hand and a glass in the other, he goes to his favourite spot. The old brown leather chair has been in the same spot for years upon years. A few have sat in the chair prior to him but it was Ivan that called the chair his favourite. It was comfortable, broken in, and still supported the bad spots in his back. Before Ivan can claim his spot he starts a fire and stands too close for mortal comfort. It’s warm on his hands and his face, for now, it is his small ounce of summer.

Once in the chair, Ivan wastes no time opening his bottle and pour one...two...three glasses and downing them all with ease. His throat burns, a feeling he had been cutting back on for a few months, he misses it, the pain, it was a friendly reminder of things. He closes his eyes and sighs as the warmth inside his body starts to blend with the warmth from the fire. The cold that loomed over him slowly starts to fade away and he’s shoulder relax. For many many years, he’s hated the cold and everything it stood for. He’s hated the general, the famine, the dryness, the destruction, the loneliness, and of course the death. He could count on his fingers and toes how many times he nearly lost his mind to the siren’s call of frostbite, to unhappily awaken to his commands dead beside him instead of him joining them. Ivan was envious and petty and cursed them for leaving him behind. But deep down he was glad they could finally rest in peace. He wanted their peace. Nights like those were common then as night like these were common now. Less reckless and catastrophic but common none the less as he nursed himself with vodka.

The fire beside him became fiercely and it was comforting, it was almost like a gentle lullaby. He had two more glasses before he realized the bottle was gone, not even a drop made it past his lips. Satisfied yet disappointed in how hasty he was, he put his glass and bottle beside his chair and shifted to get even more comfortable in his seat. Once he found the right spot he crossed his hands in front of him and watched the flames. The silence only lasted for a moment as it started to remind him how empty he house actually was. The life that once occupied it was gone and every night was filled with mind-twisting silence. So he began to hum a tone that randomly came into his head, then he started to sing. Not many people knew Ivan could sing, only those that ever stayed in his house knew he would randomly break out into song when he was in a good mood. Which wasn’t a lot despite the constant smile he wore around everyone. The Baltics could really range themselves depending on if they heard him humming or singing while he worked around his house.

As his voice filled the room he was in, he slowly began to slip into a comfortable sleep. With a few more notes on his tongue and the melody fading in his ears, Ivan fell asleep unsure if he would have a dream or a nightmare.

Ivan was a child standing in the doorway of his bedroom crying. He didn’t know why he was crying nor could he stop the tears that fell to his feet. As he tried to wipe away the few that lingered on his face but they seem to gather faster than his little hand could manage. A pair of hands wrapped themselves around him and soon Ivan was held up in the air then pressed again someone’s side. He looked up through his tears and saw a beautiful woman with long blonde hair and bright blue eyes that looked like his sister’s.

“Why do you cry, my child?” She said. Ivan shook his head and hung it in shame. The woman chuckled and placed a finger under his chin to raise his head. She then began to wipe his tears and they stayed away unlike before. She kisses his head and pulls him in close and walks away from the room. Ivan couldn’t stop himself from snuggling into her and feeling safe. This woman was familiar, from very long ago, this woman he knew of but couldn’t remember her name. He didn’t care, not when he felt warm in her arms, he could think about her name later as long as he got to stay where he was. Soon the woman stopped walking and patted his back lightly. Ivan pulled away from his spot against her and looked up towards her then around. They were in his dining room and his sisters sat at the table. The woman sat him down in a chair in front of his sisters then smoothed his hair down. Ivan watched as she vanished through a doorway the turned back towards his sisters who were now older. He knew their country names but something inside him told him not to call them that. Ukraine was Yekaterina and Belarus was Natalya, they weren’t countries as they sat at the table, they were people who lived forever, or so he thought. Yekaterina was telling him something that seemed important by the way her eyebrows knotted. He couldn’t hear her and it worried him that she would think he didn’t care. He cared, he cared so much more than he ever made an effort to show her. When she finished she looked like she was going to cry and rose from her seat.

She came towards him and hugged him, “I’ll be back, I promise, I won’t be gone for long. I love you, Ivan.” He finally heard her voice and he smiled and hugged her back. A feeling inside him told him this goodbye was a lot different than the one he heard when she left before. This goodbye meant she would be back before he could actually miss her. When they pulled away it wasn’t the face of his eldest sister anymore staring back at him. Instead, it was his youngest sister trying her hardest to hold back her tears. She now looked as old as she did in current times, her dazzling beauty was evident.

“Why do you have to go? Why can’t you stay home first then go? Why can’t I come with you? I want to come with you.” Always so determined to have her way when it came to her brother, Natalya held onto her brother with a death grip.

“I’ll be back before you know it, Talya, I’ll be home for the holidays.” Ivan managed to get his sister’s grip loose on his jacket and he kissed her knuckles before kissing her forehead. Natalya seemed to let her defences go and slowly back away from Ivan. Then the woman from before -- Kievan Rus, his mother, he finally remembers her -- she came to him now as an old woman with long silver hair braided into a bun and traditional clothes. He now towered over her but it meant nothing when she pulled him down to her level to hold him in a tight hug. She whispered prayers into his ear and told him to have a safe journey. Ivan had no idea where he was going but he knew that he had to go or he’d be late getting there. He kissed his mother’s cheek then pulled away so he could grab his bags and began to walk away towards nothing. As things started to fade into white the brightness from the sky became blinding. He stopped walking and rose a hand to cover his eyes a bit. As he stood there for a moment trying to figure out why it was so bright the world around changed along with his clothes. He finally looked back down and he was standing in a courtyard surrounded by only a few people.

He knew everyone that occupied the space, he knew them whether he had met them a few times or casually. They seemed to be doing something which confused him as he felt they were all late. Everyone was dressed in a matching uniform that bore the logo of the school they were at. Ivan didn’t remember ever going to school in his life but he felt like this was correct in a way. He even felt as if everyone here were friendly with one along despite events that had happened in all of their lives.

“Heeeey...Ivaaaaaan...Earth to Ivaaaan. Dude, come on!” Ivan snapped his neck to the side and saw America, Alfred, standing there snapping his fingers in his face. Ivan felt the pull to reach out and strangle the other for doing so but he swallowed it and put on a smile. Alfred was his friend after all, right? “Dude I’ve been trying to get you attention for a while. You just stopped walking all of a sudden and looked up. You good?” Ivan wanted to tell America he was fine and that it was nothing but the words never made it out. All he could do was nod and smile, Alfred still seemed concerned but left it alone as he went back to rambling about his weekend. Ivan took a moment to gather himself before following the bubbly American into the school. When he pushed passed the door someone ran into him and stumbled passed him. They gave a quick apology and hurried on their way. Ivan couldn’t even catch a glance of the person as they quickly ran out the door, all he saw was messy braids bouncing as they ran. When he turned around he was now in another building. This building was the grant meeting lobby that he normally stood in before the UN began. He looked around and saw he was actually standing in a half circle amongst people he could possibly consider a friend. Francis was telling Arthur about the new interns that were finally coming to the meeting with them. Arthur shook his head and said something about not needing help. Ivan knew this conversation, he heard it a year ago while at a meeting, but this time he knew he wasn’t a country, none of them were. They were people, humans that worked for their countries. A weird sense of happiness bubbled in Ivan’s stomach as he felt a weird sense of freedom.

“So Ivan what do you think of this whole intern business? Silly, isn’t it?” Arthur asked Ivan, who had to remember what was being said.

“Da,” he finally had control over his voice and it felt refreshing to hear himself. Being silent for so long was secretly starting to worry him.

“See I knew he would agree, we don’t need help during a job we’ve been doing for the past seven years.” Arthur threw his hands up dramatically and rolled his eyes. Seven years? Only seven? Centuries Ivan though in his head, centuries of listening to the world problems and either ignoring them or doing something about them.

“He only agrees with you because he chose to opt out of the program, just like I did.” Yao waved his hand in the air and shook his head. Ivan turned his eyes towards Yao and smiled. Yao was the oldest friend he had, for a while he was the only friend he had until the turn of the age.

“Even when there is an adorable darling sitting next to you?” Francis threw his hand up to his forehead to fake faint before winking towards Arthur, who shot him a look of disgust and turned away. Just then the sound of a very loud American filled the hall alongside a very concerned voice following behind him. Ivan saw the duo of noise come strolling in but quickly his eyes fixed on the woman that stood beside Alfred. Everyone else seemed to notice too but it was Francis that saw what Ivan saw.

The French man stepped around the group behind Ivan, “Even if they are the apple of your eye?” Francis' voice started to fade away like the wind blowing past Ivan. Now he was standing outside a cafe with his hands in his pocket caressing a box. He was waiting for someone to come out of the cafe and it made him so anxious. He was so worried about what they would say and how they would react. He had been planning this for months, he talked it over with his mother and his sisters. He even told his friends about it, Alfred was hesitant at first but he soon gave the Russian bear the green light.

“Sorry to keep you waiting, Ivan, I had to use the bathroom.” The girl in front of him was Melpomene, Mel for short, his girlfriend. He held up a hand to tell her she was fine, his voice was once again gone. Mel smiled at him and nodded and began to walk away. Ivan felt his nervousness raise and the air in his lungs hitch, he threw out a hand and grabbed her gently to pull her back. As he spun her back around he fell to one knee and pulled out the box. But now Mel was dressed in a beautiful white dress crying as Ivan slid the ring onto her finger.

“I do.” They said at the same time and crowns were placed on their heads in Russian tradition. Ivan leaned in to have his kiss from her and it felt just like first time he did it. They quickly started walking down the aisle as all their friends congratulated them and gave them blessings for a bright future. Ivan couldn’t take his eyes off Mel as his heart felt like it was going to fall out of his chest. He held a hand up to his chest just in case, he felt high on life, happier than he ever did. He felt that his life was going on the course it was supposed to go on. Mel turned to him beaming just as much as he was and she leaned in to kiss him again. When they pulled away Ivan saw Mel’s mouth starting to move but he couldn’t hear her. He knotted his brows hoping she would repeat herself and she playfully rolled her eyes.

“We’re having a boy.”

“But I wanted a girl.” Ivan responded playfully and the world around them changed again as they now stood facing each other back in his home in an empty bedroom.

“Ivan.” Mel playful pushed his shoulder but it did nothing considering how tall and strong he was.

“Any child is fine. As long as I can hear their laughter in the halls and their joy through the walls. I will happily bear them all.” Ivan says as he places his hand on Mel’s already giant stomach and kisses her cheek. Mel kisses him back and pats his hand before pulling away and waddling out the room. Ivan smiled as he watched her leave then he turned around to face out the window as he caught the first sign of snow. Normally he would be a bit off by the first snowfall, but now he welcomed it.

“Ivan? Ivan where are you?” An old woman's voice called out to him from the hallway. Ivan turned around just as he heard the soft footsteps enter the room. He knew the old woman in front of him was Mel even with the wrinkles and silver hair. She looked even more graceful as she did when she was younger. Wiser. Softer. Full of so much life and stories. So many memories that he knew all about because he was there. She was human. Mel made her way towards him and took his hand into hers and rubbed circles.

“Do you think everyone will make it home for the holidays?” Ivan’s voice was older and softer. He didn’t have to see to know the face he had now was that of an old man.

“I’m sure they will, they always do.” Mel smiled and Ivan hummed as he agreed with her. He turned towards the window once more to see that the sun was now setting and the snow was now settled. He smiled and turned back towards Mel and kissed her. But when he felt her lips they felt real, they felt like they were beyond the world he was in. When Ivan pulled away everything started to blur around him except Mel. She only smiled and rose a hand to his cheek. Ivan nestled into her palm and let out a big sigh, he didn't want this to end. He knew this was a dream, a very good dream he didn’t want to wake up from. He had finally lived his life and was an old man with a beautiful wife and a family that was coming home for the holidays. But as he held on to what was left of the dream he started to come back into reality.

“I love you so much, Любимая моя,” Ivan whispers.

“I love, Ivan. Now wake up.” Mel’s voice echoed around him and Ivan finally stirred from his sleep. Mel was standing beside him holding his face. She was wrapped in a heavy blanket and smiling as sweetly as she always did when greeting him in the morning. The fire had gone out hours ago and the sun peered through the curtains in front of the tall windows. Ivan took hold of Mel's hand feeling how warm and real she felt compared to her dream self. Ivan kissed her palm countless times before he pulled her down and captured her lips.

“I could have stayed up with you.” Mel tells him as they pull away and Ivan makes it too his feet to stretch, a pop coming from his back then a heavy sigh.

“You needed to stay in bed where it was warm. I was fine by myself.” Ivan ensured her then took her hand into his as they walked towards the kitchen to start breakfast.

“But you’re not alone, Ivan, not anymore.” Mel leaned into his arm and Ivan leant down and kissed her head. She was right. But he knew how things would end in the long run. His dream was the most beautiful dream he had ever had and he wished for nothing more than it to become real. He wanted to grow old and die with the ones he loved. He wanted a family and a hall filled with children and people. But he knew what it coasted to be greedy so he swallowed his dream and kept it tucked in his heart. Mel was right here, right now, and Ivan’s heart was content with that. Ivan could feel the spring inching closer the more he embraced what he had. Mother Russia was becoming warm once again.

#🌻Optimistic Tragedy🌻#hetalia ship #hetalia #self ship #self shipping #self shipping community #s/i x canon #my writing #hws russia #aph russia

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hetalihell · 3 years

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Hi everyone! I want to thank you all for 100 followers, so I'm compiling some of my favourite fics from my time in hetalia. (If you see your fic on here, and do not want it to be, please tell me and I'll remove it) After Buon San Valentino - really cute gerita fic A day out - really cute fruk fanfic Behind the mask - did someone say angsty fruk? Love was a French thing - - This. I don't know how to describe it, it's just amazing. Fruk. What pancakes drive us to do - 2p Prucan. This is a beautiful 2p prucan fic. No one would notice - angsty prucan. Tw for attempted suicide/suicidal thoughts.

Secrets for the sleeping - - this is just amazing. I have no words. Fluffy 2p Prucan. Downsides of better late than never - 2p world meets Prussia. It's unfortunately unfinished, and ends on a bit of a cliffhanger, but it's amazing.

Jane Eyre - - domestic Fruk. UK brothers - It's official I've read this too much.

Best served cold - Another UK brothers one, focusing mostly on Wales and England.

It's hard for me to say I love you (but I do) - Fruk. Easily one of (if not the) best ive ever read

England's kitchen nightmares - Englands cooking meets Gordon Ramsay.

National geographic, nation style - England and Japan makes a nature documentary about the nations. What could go wrong?

Fruk valentine's Day - what it says on the title but England is even more tsundere than usual

France is falsely accused of being a slut - read the title, Fruk

Feel free to add to this! If any of the links are wrong, please tell me

#Thank you all for 100 followers #Hetalia #Fic recs #hetalia fanfiction #Rip formatting

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lovelyghostlyharmony · 3 years

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Malibu Rescue: Wayno x Italian reader

A/n: The reader will be completely based on Italy from hetalia, including his(your) grumpy brother Romano, his(your) accent and personality, the only difference is you nor him will represent the country and your looks will be what you decide with the exception of the curl, enjoy!

“W-Wayno?” You sniffled and walked into his room.

You knelt beside his sleeping form and started nudging him with a tear filled face.

The nudging continued until the Australian reached his hand out and caught your wrist, making you yelp in fear. His brown eyes stared at you intently, like he was ready to kill you. But once he noticed it was just you, he sighed and relaxed, letting go of your wrist.

“What is it y/n?” He asked as he sat up.

You noticed that he wasn’t wearing a shirt, giving you a view of his toned chest, alerting a blush to begin on your cheeks. His hair was messy from sleep, triggering you back to why you were there in the first place.

Wayno took note of your tear stained face, making a pang of concern swarm through him, “I-I had-a nightmare, can I sleep-a with-a you Wayno?” You asked shakily, still sitting on your knees on the floor.

He opened his mouth to respond, but you jumped on him and started crying, “Please please please please please please please please please please!” You begged as you clung to his chest, burying your head there.

The male didn’t know what to think of your clinging smaller form. He just awkwardly started rubbing your back, “Calm down y/n.” He said, attempting to soothe you, but due to his tired state but it just came out at a snap.

Wayno sighed as he heard your sobs, “Fine, fine! Just stop crying!” He demanded more than insisted.

You nodded and started wiping your face. He easily lifted you from your position in his lap to lay down next to him.

After he pulled the covers over your body, he laid down again, “What was this nightmare anyways?” He questioned only to see you were already knocked out, sleeping soundly beside him. A small smile tugged at his lips.

The usually confident Australian hesitantly brushed some of your hair out of your face, his hand just barely brushing against your delicate curl. Even this little contact made a moan escape your lips, though still asleep. The noise made the male blush fiercely and quickly turn his back to you and try to fall asleep.

Thankfully though, he fell asleep with ease.

Wayno’s alarm went off at seven o'clock. Of course, the Australian had no problem turning off the alarm and running the sleep from his eyes. But when he remembered you slept with him last night, he started waking you up since you didn’t stir at the blaring alarm.

“y/n, wake up already.” He said after a minute of shaking you.

You had your arms wrapped around his toned right one with your head laying against the said arm. You looked absolutely adorable.

He slowly started to blush again, that’s when he detached you from his arm, finally waking you up.

“What time is it-a Wayno?” You asked groggily.

“Seven, time for junior rescue.” He simply stated and went to his closet.

You grumbled, debating on falling asleep again or not. But you took into consideration that Wayno actually let you sleep with him after your nightmare, and you slept way better once you were with him. So you wanted to make it up to him, even if it meant getting up at seven.

With a few muttered Italian phrases, you left his room to go get dressed.

You just wore a simple white tee that you could see your Italian flag printed sports bra through, but that wasn’t a big deal to you. Your shorts were short, duh, and green to match your bra. With your hair and shoes being put up and put on, you went to go see where Germany was.

“Hey y/n, ready?” He asked when he heard footsteps coming up behind him.

You bounced over to him since all your sleep had worn off by now, “Sì, sì! Let’s go-a Wayno!” You beamed and grabbed his arm, dragging him towards the door.

Germany was a little startled by your eagerness to go. You always complained about having to go to junior rescue, you often wouldn’t go at all. He felt almost proud that you were willing to go.

He let a small smile form on his lips as you continued to lead him out of the house.

Timeskip

“Alright, how about we run for a little be to warm up?” Wayno asked.

You hesitated, you hated running, “sure-a! Let’s get-a going then!” You stated joyfully.

He nodded and started running to the beach where you would start running laps.

You ran a little behind him since you weren’t as fast as him.

Wayno said that the two of you would only run five laps since this was warm up.

Around your third lap, that’s when the running was starting to take its toll on you. You were gasping for breath and it was more like you were walking aggressively rather than running or jogging.

The Australian was getting a little concerned at your condition and slowed down and looked back at you since there was some distance between the two of you now.

“Are you ok y/n?” He asked, letting some concern into his voice.

“I……am-a…..doing fine!” You said between breaths.

Then you started seeing black spots consume your eyes. And that’s when you went down. Your knees buckled and you fell face first onto the track. The last thing you remember seeing was Wayno rushing towards you yelling your name, and you blacked out.

Yes. You really blacked out from three laps around the track.

There was a coldness that washed over you.

You gasped and choked on the water that was poured on you.

“Are you alright y/n?” Wayno asked, helping you sit up.

When you fell on the track, he went into a complete panic attack. He ran over to you, swiftly picking you up bridal style. He carried you to a nearby bench, gently laying you there. H left quickly to grab some water from HQ before hurrying back. Even though he looked calm on the outside, he was in sheer panic on the inside. Sure you were pretty lazy with training, and maybe because of this, when you pushed yourself to actually train, it may have put too much strain on your body.

“I….I’m-a cold!” You exclaimed and you shivered, immediately clinging to your muscular Australian.

A shiver racked through him as your wet body made contact with him. You were seriously soaked to the bone. Even though your hair clung to your skin, that curl sprang out from the side of your head, completely having no effect from the water.

With a sigh, Wayno picked you up without hesitation and began carrying you towards the house, “I think training is over for today.” He simply said.

But as he entered the house with your shivering form in his arms, something dawned on him, “Did you eat anything before we left?”

He set you down on a chair in the kitchen, “U-Uh, no?”

Another sigh escaped him, that’s why you passed out. So without another word, he left to get you a towel. Within the same minute, he wrapped a large fuzzy towel around your smaller form.

“You should do take a bath,” Wayno said.

“Alright! You-a too then!” You replied, telling him the same because you did get him pretty soaked since he carried you in, “We should take-a a bath together!” You beamed and grabbed the Wayno’s hand.

Honestly, he didn’t think it was appropriate, “No, I don’t think we should do that y/n.” He responded.

You stopped dragging him to the bathroom and looked at him a little disappointed, obviously seeing nothing wrong with the idea, “why-a not?”

Wayno looked at you. The look you had on screamed innocence.

“W-Well… I guess we can.” He mumbled, a blush faintly making its way onto his face.

A closed eye smile grew on your face and you continued to drag him to the bathroom.

When you walked into the bathroom, your usual bouncy self let go of Wayno’s hand and started the water, adding bubbles to it. Wayno almost reluctantly grabbed two towels out of the cabinet in there and set them on the bathroom counter.

As soon as that was done, Wayno slid off his shoes and socks and turned to you. He turned at the right moment to see your bare backside get into the tub.

He ended up bluntly staring at you, eyes glued to your figure until it was hidden by the mountain of bubbles.

“Come-a in Wayno!” You beamed, catching him staring at you, but you were oblivious.

He just stared at your obliviousness of the situation.

You gave him a confused look, then it dawned on you, “Oh! I’ll turn-a way!” You said closing your eyes and covering them with your hands.

This snapped him out of whatever trance he was in and just started getting undressed like you basically instructed.

You didn’t open your eyes until you heard him get in the water and felt the water rise and he sat.

“See~ this is-a nice~” you cooed and leaned back against the side of the tub.

“Ya, it is,” Wayno admitted and started to relax as well.

The two of you soaked in silence for a bit. It was that kind of nice silence, the kind you could relish in.

The two of you stayed like this for about another ten minutes. But the silence started to annoy you.

“We should-a do this more often Wayno.” You said rather casually, opening your eyes to look at him.

The brunette rose an eyebrow at your statement, not sure if he heard it right or not, “why would you want to do that?”

You giggled like it was the most obvious thing in the world, “Because I like-a spending time with-a you!”

Wayno look a little startled, not at all expecting that to come from you, “Oh.”

Another giggled escaped you as you nodded, “Veeee~”

That short conversation sorta put an end to the relaxing bath. You got out of the bubble bath, unknowingly flashing him, making him tense up and blush.

“I’m going to-a change.” You said as you wrapped a towel around you and exiting the bathroom.

After leaving a shocked Australian in the bubbly water, he slowly got out and did the same as you.

Since you blew the whole idea of making it up to Wayno by actually training with him, you used the rest of the day to try to make it up to him in various ways.

Instead of pushing pasta, pasta, and more pasta on him, you made him his favorite meal, [not sure so insert random dish]. This also sent him for a whirl, knowing all you ever ate was pasta, and seeing you share his favorite food, it made something start fluttering in his chest. You did many different small things like this for him.

When the end of the day came around, signaling the two of you to start getting ready for bed, you had to ask something. You quickly changed into your pajamas and ran to his room. You barged into his room just as he got his pj pants up, startling him greatly.

“Is there something wrong y/n?” He asked annoyed.

You hesitated, “Can I sleep with-a you again?” You asked twiddling your thumbs, rocking back and forth on your heels.

He shrugged, “alright.”

A huge smile adorned your features as you rushed to him and gave him a huge hug. He hugged you back.

Wayno flipped the switch of his light, the room consumed in darkness, the little light there was came from his open window. You hurriedly went over to his bed and got under the covers, his sheets smelled like him, it was his unique aroma that you were quite fond of.

The brunette joined you under the covers, and when his back hit the mattress, you curled up next to him.

“By the way-a Wayno,” You said quietly, which he looked at you to give him your attention, “I-a wanted to let you-a know….”

“What is it?” He asked when you didn’t finish your sentence.

“Ti Amo.”

He had heard you speaking Italian enough to know what you meant.

He didn’t even try to hide the smile on his face as he wrapped his arms around your smaller form, pulling you closer into his chest.

Your eyes were closed, but you weren’t asleep enough to heard him whisper ‘I love you too’ into your hair.

~~~~~EXTENDED ENDING~~~~~

Even though it wasn’t verbally stated, the two of you were a couple now.

So a few days after your little strange day. Starting with you passing out to you two sleeping in the same bed, nothing dirty, something was brought to the Aussie’s attention.

“y/n?” He asked to you as you made your beloved pasta.

“Yessssssss Wayno?”

“You never did tell me what happened in your nightmare.” He said since he was still curious what scared you so bad to come to his room.

You pouted and wailed, “BROTHER ROMANO SAID-A HE LOVED HIS TOMATOES MORE-A THAN ME!”

#fuffy #malibu rescue x reader #Wayno x reader #imagines

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wiltingofthewhitelily · 3 years

Note

68 and 71?

Thanks for asking!!

68) Favorite movie/series?

For movie, I mostly watch kids' movies tbh so my favorite has to be Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs lmao. For series—well, Hetalia for one. I also like Kitchen Nightmares—

71) Which fictional character is you?

Wellll, I act a lot like APH Japan honestly. We have really similar personalities and have a lot of the same interests too

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frischkasekuchen · 3 years

Text

(Technically) Dreamtalia I T Au

Credits:

Kyokyo866: Reve and Dreamtalia

Thriftlita: Vanya and Mikhail

Stephen King- It

Hetalia by Hidekaz Himaruya

Warning:

Minor injury

Blood

Amputation

Starring:

Mikhail

Vanya

Reve as the fucking clown It/Pennywise

Everything was tranquil in the Bazarov household. Doors and windows locked shut. The two residents, Vanya and Mikhail, were sleeping in their shared bedroom.

Well, Mikhail was sleeping, but now he was awake, disturbed by another nightmare. What child wouldn’t have nightmares of the last child murder in your small town? Ever since he heard about Peter Kirkland’s bizarre demise, he had been having nightmares about a storm drain swallowing his arm whole. He thought they’d stop at some point, Peter’s death was back during 1957’s autumn, but 1958's summer was about to arrive in a few days.

Mikhail decided, ‘I’ll just get a glass of water and I’ll go back to bed. Papa won’t fuss if it’s just water.’

His father had been fretting over his safety for a while since all the murders started. The two always shared a room, it was nothing new. But then came “no being outside after six” and “to be in bed by seven”. Not only did the boy’s father personally enforce the curfew on him, he had hidden weapons (or things that could be used as weapons) around the house, kept every in and out locked making the May evenings hotter than they should be. Mikhail swore that at this point both of them would be getting matching grey hairs at this rate.

Mikhail tip-toed over to the mattress Vanya was sleeping on, and dove a hand under feeling for the bedroom key. He held his breath as he did, knowing that it was risky enough getting the key in the first place. As soon as Mikhail felt cold metal he fished his hand out from under the mattress, holding a key. He backed away from Vanya and shuffled to the bedroom’s door.

After he unlocked the door and pushed it opened, he winced. As it swung open, it made a drawn out and obnoxious creak. Mikhail looked over his shoulder to see if Vanya had woken up. Vanya simply turned on his side, facing away from the door. Mikhail let out a sigh of relief.

Mikhail walked into the kitchen, not bothering to light the wicks of the oil lamps. The moonlight seeping through the curtains was enough to illuminate the entire room.

He shuffled a bit groggily to the dish drain to get a glass. Taking one off of the rack and filling it with water from the faucet. Mikhail sat down at the dinner table and put the cup to his mouth.

As soon as the water touched his lips, his nose scrunched up. A pungent smell filled the kitchen- it smelled like a sewer. Mikhail placed the cup on the table to survey the room. The stench was coming from the oven. A green mist, like what he’d see in those animated films, was seeping out from the oven.

Mikhail slumped out of his chair and walked over to the oven. The lid of the oven fell with a loud ‘SLAM’, nearly smashing his toes. A frilly cuffed, gloved hand slithered out, feeling around- before grabbing Mikhail by the ankle. Every separate curl on his head stood on end, he could feel himself becoming faint.

A cheery, shrill voice came from the back of the oven, “Why so pale? You should be happy! You’ll be floating with all the other kiddies, you’ll have friends other than your papa! For once in your life!”

Mikhail pouted at It, letting it know that it hit a nerve. The boy threw his head back and shrieked,

“PAPOCHKA!”

“Oh, trust me pupper, he’s not-”

Before It could finish its sentence, a mountain of a man came thundering in- armed with an axe.

“HANDS OFF MY BOY!” Vanya held the axe over his head- and brought it down on Its wrist.

It let out a horrendous screech, you could almost feel sorry for the creature(keyword is almost).

As Vanya scooped up his son and tore the disembodied hand off of Mikhail. He backed out of the kitchen with the blade of the axe facing It. It decided to admit defeat, vanishing in thin air to go lick its wounds.

Vanya took a moment to breathe, still gripping the axe firmly. He stomped over to the bathroom, locking the door behind him in case it came back. He placed a shaking Mikhail onto the floor so he could go through the medicine cabinet. After finding the alcohol and gauze, he got down on his knees-crackling, to treat Mikhail’s wounds.

It took Mikhail a few seconds to ease, the sting of the alcohol distracting him from thoughts of what just happened. He looked at his wound as Vanya wrapped it, he teared up a bit.

“....Papa?”

Vanya looked up.

“I’m sorry.” Mikhail sniffled.

Vanya sighed, “Please, please don’t do this again.”

“.....”

He looked off the side, “I know I worry a lot, maybe to a bothersome extent- but I want you to be safe. Do you understand me?”

Mikhail nodded.

“When we get up tomorrow morning, we’ll see if what attacked you is still here before we take care of the farm alright?” Vanya embraced Mikhail, his expression breaking into a smile.

“Okay.” as Mikhail tensed up once more, he closed his eyes, trying not to think about whatever It was.

#it #hetalia #dreamtalia #my writing #Spotify #tw blood #tw injury #tw swearing

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queenofdenest · 4 years

Text

Prompt: 5. Alt prompt:'Nightmare’ Series: Unofficial Whump.tober Fandom: Hetalia. Warnings/Tags: Angst. Fluff (no seriously a shitton of fluff). Characters: APH Est.onia. APH Den.mark. Pairings: DenEst. Summary: (Post Soviet Union/1991 fic). Den.mark has a nightmare.

A/N: Where the FLUFF have you been? you may ask me. I reply with a blank stare and some head tilting.No, I'm kidding, really, life has been just UGH! this entire year, has it not???? Since the last time we saw each other, my beloved cat died, the whole world entered a pandemic, my keyboard died (got a new one, obviously), my mouse died (in the process of getting a new one), i've fallen back into reading harry potter meta, i started watching the umbrella academy, i started rewatching naruto (and then stopping to decide to rewrite it), been working on fics that have nothing to do with anything i thought i had planned and i've just been not okay.

Really, I am so sorry that I've been absent, going to try and fix that since I love writing for DenEst and the entire Hetalia fandom in general. Hopefully this can tide people over for a bit?

This is for the whumptober prompt: nightmares - yes, I'm still doing these - and i decided denest for the pairings. No real warnings, there is some description of Den.mark's emotional status after a nightmare and some description of temporary loss [not death, the emotional sense of loss] but nothing else.

_____________________

Nikolaj woke with the large comforter missing from the bed, Eduard’s body heat gone, and light peeking into the room via the door being open slightly. His own heart was pounding as he threw the blankets off of him and dropped his feet to the cold wooden floors.

A small shiver went up his body. Between the freezing temperatures – the forecast had said that the night would hit a chilly -2°c, which was truly blasphemous in his opinion, barely out of November and the temperature was dipping so low – and the nightmare that had awoken him in the first place, he was unnerved. Hell, a stout wind would probably be able to send him to his knees.

Shaking his head, ridding his mind of those thoughts, he stood, grabbing his robe that was draped at the end of the bed like always. He’d find Eduard, drag the other back to bed, and hopefully never have to think about the idea of the other nation disappearing into Russia’s territory ever again.

(That last one was just wishful thinking – almost every nightmare that featured Estonia dealt with losing him in some way or other; either from some other nation, or the other dying a death in Denmark’s own arms).

The hallway was clear of the smaller nation, obviously. Less obviously was the fact that the second bedroom, the office, the computer room – a room that held more ripped apart electronics than computers – and the bathrooms were also clear.

The cold feeling in Nikolaj’s gut came back with full force. A quick pinch to his skin to make sure he wasn’t still dreaming – he wasn’t – before he decided to head down the stairs. There were more rooms down there, Eduard would be somewhere down there.

Yes, he thought, his lover either had to be down in the living room where the large fireplace sat or in the kitchen. Those were areas that Eduard often went whenever he had trouble sleeping. Tea was probably on table – some black bread set out with it because Eduard was ever the comfort creature.

The living room was empty beside the comforter set on the couch and the kitchen held only small sign s that Eduard had been in there in the form heat and scents coming from the oven. A quick peek in there and Nikolaj noticed that there was pot in there that hadn’t been there before he went to bed.

Another sniff.

Probably some sort of pot roast, Eduard loved making pot roasts.

Shaking his head again and yanking his robe closer to himself, Nikolaj looked out the window. Eduard had a barn and a small greenhouse on his property and that was excluding the small farm that he grew.

Lips meet teeth.

It wasn’t that Nikolaj had never been on Eduard’s property at night, he had been multiple times. It was just, he had always been with the other nation, never venturing out there alone. Perhaps it was that that was causing his hang up – or maybe the nightmare – or maybe even the fact that Denmark had always been slightly superstitious when it came to Estonian lands – but whatever it was, he had no desire to leave the house.

Yet, he needed Eduard; to see him, to touch him, to kiss him, to just know that the other nation hadn’t been snatched away from him. To know that it wasn’t a repeat of the time that Russia had come and taken Eduard from him, all but ripping him from what should’ve been a happy middle of their relationship.

A deep breath.

The nightmare was over. Russia was no longer an empire, nobody would take the Estonian from him.

A short laugh.

It was hilarious how he had fought in many deadly wars and yet the one thing that still haunted him was the sight of Eduard begging to be allowed to say goodbye.

Another deep breath.

“Nikolaj?”

Denmark turned towards the voice. “Eduard,” he said as he moved to grab the other. “I was so worried, where were you?”

“Root cellar,” he answered, giving a small smile. He leaned into Nikolaj’s hug. “I forgot to start something for us to eat for lunch – I figured a small stew would be nice for the picnic we planned, then I found that we had eaten the rest of the potatoes for dinner last night so I went into my stores for some.”

All the taller nation heard was that Eduard was fine, Eduard had left on his own free will and had come back the same. No one had taken him, no one had hurt him.

“It couldn’t wait until morning though?” Denmark asked as he pulled back, face set in a smile he didn’t feel.

“Well the stew takes up to three hours to cook, Taani.” Eduard moved towards the kitchen sink now that he was freed, “If we plan to leave the house mid-morning, I want it to be done well before that.”

Of course, Eduard was always one to keep plans on track. If Nikolaj had his way, they’d’ve had to wait until the next day for their picnic and well that would’ve kept him from panicking about the loss of Estonia, it also would’ve ruined his plans.

“Are you alright?” Eduard asked, wiping his hands on a dish towel. “You seem… upset?”

Nikolaj stared at him for a moment. He didn’t want to upset Eduard, or worse, worry him, yet he wasn’t sure he could actually lie to the other. “I just had a bad dream,” he replied after a minute, “Not seeing you made it worse.”

The smaller man moved close, lifting a hand to cup his face. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there to comfort you,” he said softly, “ Do you want to talk about it?”

Did he? Denmark wasn’t exactly sure. He didn’t want to bring up such a bad memory for the other, especially not when they had something great planned for the next day, but at the same time, he wasn’t sure he could go back to sleep without dealing with a bit of it.

After a moment, he nodded.

“Living room?”

Another nod.

“I’ll make us some hot chocolate, it won’t help up sleep but I know you’ve always favoured my recipe.” Eduard smiled, “If you want it that is?”

Nikolaj nodded quickly. Hot chocolate would always be better than tea when he wasn’t feeling right – especially Eduard’s tea. “I’ll get the fireplace going,” he said as he watched the other move away, the place where Eduard’s hand on his cheek going cold as he did so.

Eduard hummed as he pulled the kettle from the cupboard. Nikolaj moved to give him a quick kiss on the cheek, wrapping his arms around him for another hug.

“Thank you,” he said, lips on the other’s ear. “I’ll never let you go.”

_____________________

Additional Notes:

*Do Estonian homes have root cellars? I don't know, I don't have but I do think Eduard would have one since he also has a small farm and probably stocks up on food because history has never been kind to those who don't.

*Also this is kinda just a few years after the Soviet Union has fallen, which is why Denmark is still very emotional about the idea of losing Estonia. It's still a relatively looming prospect in his eyes so the nightmare hit harder than it would if I was placing this story further into the future of their relationship.

*Hot chocolate is probably not the best if you plan to go to bed right afterwards, I know it has caffeine and for some people that can affect their sleeping patterns, but like I got an Estonian hot chocolate recipe off the interwebs and for some reason it's perfect???? Also, supposedly there is a hot chocolate cafe or something that has some pretty good hot chocolate so there's also that.

*Denmark being superstitious when it comes to Eduard's home is just a headcanon that one day I have to write a story about - Estonian myths and legends are some really cool ones so I just figure that Denmark has probably run into something in the woods and has been a bit scared ever since.

*The weather mentioned in the beginning translates to like 28 degrees Fahrenheit which isn't exactly cold cold, but like I stole it off a website which says that on November 3rd, 2009, at 12 am to 6 am, it was 28 degrees Fahrenheit which translate to 2 degrees Celsius. Would it have been that cold when this story takes place?? I don't know, but for this story, it is.

Anyway, tell me what you thought? i love hearing from people. don't forget to kudos and come follow me on my various socials: tumblr: @queenofdenest insta: @clairebxrton

#aph denest #aph denmark #aph estonia #aph fanfic #hetalia fanfiction #hetalia #ii. character;; aph denmark #ii. character;; aph estonia #v. pairing;; denest #iii. story;; mine #iii. story;; one shot #iii. story;; complete #vii. story;; whumptober 2k19 #vi. ooc;; memento's whumptober 2k19

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ladypurplejanewrynn · 4 years

Text

Hetalia AmeLiet: A troublesome situation chapter 3

Versailles (Audrey Bonnefoy) belongs to @hopelessly-austroholic

This night was pretty rough for Tolys. He had a nightmare and woke up. He tried to fall asleep but he had troubles with falling asleep. He got off the bed and went to the bathroom. He looked at his own reflection in the mirror:"Why me?" thought the Lithuanian as he placed his hand on the mirror. He closed his eyes. Tears started to run down his cheeks. "I just want to go back to normal..." said Lithuania to himself as he opened his eyes. He took his hand off the mirror. He fell to his knees and covered his face with his hands. Suddently Alfred came to the bathroom:"Honey, is everything Alright? What are you doing So late at night?" Tolys looked at his lover, tears still running down his cheeks. Alfred kneel down and hugged him:"Shhhhhhh.... is gonna be Alright. I’m here dear." Tolys hugged Alfred tightly:" Alfred, i’m scared... What if..." America cut him with a gentle kiss on the cheek:"I know you’re scared hun and i do understand that. But i promise i’ll do my best to help you. You’re my boyfriend after all." He helped his lover to get up and they went back to the bedroom. They sat down on the bed:"So, what exactly happend love?" asked Alfred. "Well, i had a nightmare. There was Russia in it and he did some terrible things to me." answered Tolys. America got up and took his boyfriend by his hands:"Come with me dear." They went to the kitchen. Lithuania took a sit while America prepared soemthing for him. "Here Tolys, this should make you feel better hun" said the American while giving his lover tea. Tolys took the cup of tea and drank some. "So, honey are you feeling a bit better?" asked Alfred. Tolys noded:"Yeah, is just... i still feel akward about this whole situation. All i want is go back to my normal body. This body makes me feel pretty uncomfortable. That’s all." The Lithuanian blushed and looked away. Alfred put it his hand on his lover cheek:"Hey, is gonna be ok. I made a promise and i’m gonna keep it. I understand how you feel sweety. But this body doesn’t change who you really are. You’re still the same person inside."

Lithuania smiled:" Thanks babe." "No problem dear." said America with a cheerful smile on his face. After Tolys finished drinking his tea, they went back to the bedroom, hugged each other and fell asleep. In the mornning America woke up and made breakfeast for Lithuania while he was asleep. He put in the breakfeast on the table and gently woke up his lover:"Tolys, wake up honey. Breakfeast is ready." Lithuania opened his eyes and got up:"Good mornning Alfred." He took a sit and ate his breakfeast. After he finished eating, he went to dress up. When he got out, he let his lover braid his hair. "Thank you love." said the Lithuanian and gently kissed his lover on the lips. The American returned the kiss. A moment later they went shopping. Tolys asked Alfred if they could go to a clothing store cause he wanted to get some bras for the current situation. They went to the clothing store. Lithuania picked some bra to try them on. He also picked some diffrent sizes since he wasn’t sure about his exact size. He went to the changing room while Alfred wait it for him in front of it. Tolys took off his shirt and unwrapped the bandages wrapped around his chest. He took the first bra and put it on and went to show himself to Alfred. "Alfred, i dunno if this one fits me. It feels a bit loose." said the Lithuanian. "Hmmmm.... yeah, i can see that too." answered the American. Tolys got back to the changing room and tried another one. "Alfred, can you please come in here?" America came in to the changing room:"What’s wrong love?" "This bra, it feels a little tight" said Lithuania blushing. "Looks like you must be in a bit bigger size hun." said Alfred. He went out of the dressing room and let his lover try another bra. Tolys tried the last one which was fitting. He showed himself to his lover. After picking the bra, they payed for it and went out of the store. On the way back home they meet their friend Versailles:"Hey America, what’s up? Also who is this?" "Oh, Audrey hi. Well this is a bit hard to explain but..." began America but got cut off by his lover. "Audrey, is me Tolys." said Lithuania blushing deeply red. Versailles got shocked:"Tolys? What happend to you? Why are you a woman?" "Is a long story to tell but i can tell it was Ivan’s doing." answered Tolys. "What about you come with me? I invite you both for cake and coffee. Also you could explain me what exactly happend then." said Audrey. "Sure, we’ll gladly come." said Alfred and they went with their friend to her home.

#hetalia #lithuania #america #tolys laurinaitis #alfred jones #ameliet #america x lithuania #canon x canon #russia #ivan braginsky #audrey bonnefoy #versailles #not my oc #nyo lithuania #genderbend #fanfic #my stories #PJ’s stories

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wander-yet-wonder · 4 years

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Bitonto going back home

Chapter one - Battle of Bitonto

Fandom: Hetalia Pairing: Spamano (Spain/Naples), Frain (Spain/Bourbon France), PAST Spaus, (Spain / Austria) Word count: 2698 Rating: All audiences (possible mature content in later chapters) Warnings: Implied references as to how Spain and Naples's relationship is unbalanced and possibly unhealthy. Pee. (In a bucket in a closet and non-graphic but just so ya know) Summary: "It had been twenty years, yet the moment he saw him it was like the first time again. Every part of him remembered at once his inescapable entanglement with this man: The absence hadn’t removed his shackles; the chain had just gotten longer." Antonio reclaims his territories in South Italy after Austria had taken them in the war of the Spanish succession. Caught between the warring factions like a boat in a maelstrom is the kingdom of Naples himself. Read on AO3: X

Roderich was an absolute, absolute, nightmare to deal with when he was stressed. Romano had experienced this more than enough the past twenty years; whenever the man was giving a dinner party and had started preparing too late. The house would be a mess, food needed to be cooked and of course none of the guests could see the actual state they lived in. The days before guests would come over Roderich was furiously cleaning and barking commands and orders at Romano to help. At days like that, the only moment of reprieve he'd get was to go get water at the town square and mooch some tobacco of the boys there.

Today felt similar somehow. Roderich was unprepared, outnumbered, frantic. He'd managed to scramble together a meagre 6000 men. It would not be enough, and he knew it. He'd been commanding Romano to ‘bring him his sword, no not that one, the other one, God you're useless boy! Just go and pack rations and-‘ Romano had listened to him listlessly. He really didn't feel like doing anything, just making sure his civilians didn't get hurt in the squabble.

He'd been sent out to go deliver some letters to the captain of the guard but on the way back he stalled... Why should he go back to that house? To be shouted at? Instead, he bought himself roasted chestnuts and climbed the stairs in the old bell tower of the chiesa di San Francesco d’Assisi, finding a comfortable hiding spot with a view amongst the parapets. His eyes fixed on the horizon and his limbs tingled with anticipation. He was coming. He couldn't see anything yet, but he knew: 12000 Spanish troops were just beyond the horizon. A strange feeling took hold of him. He'd been so numb lately, so apathetic to all this mess. Spain had been too broken to even acknowledge him when he left; seemingly enthralled by France and just- tired and sick. When Roderich had taken him, telling him that Spain was in no shape to take care of him, Romano knew that was the truth. But the Austrian had overestimated his own state of mind. He was keeping his head held up high, a strong and composed front for anyone to see. But Romano had to live with him and had to witness exactly how thin that veneer was. By now he'd cleaned about everything of the kitchen floor- broken plates, blood, vomit. He started to feel like he was the only adult here. He wasn't even certain if Spain had ever even thought about him after he'd been led out of his house. Years had passed afterwards and that had just confirmed for him that Spain hadn't even really noticed he was gone. He didn't want it to- but it had broken his heart a little. So those garrisons beyond the horizon breathed new life into a piece of him that he'd so diligently killed. He'd come for him. Yet he wasn’t just yearning, the advent of Spain would bring war to his town, so he dreaded it in equal amounts. From his hiding spot, he could see the monks in adjacent cloister rush about supplies so it could be used as a hospital for the inevitable wounded. It never ceased to be curious to him that the seagulls and doves would just soar over it all and nest here with him in the bell tower, over Spanish troops, over stubborn Austrians, and over Italian blood to be shed. They were just, above it all. As long as he was up here, in a way, he could be above it as well.

When Antonio would eventually cross the hills surrounding Bittonto and reach the town, the image of Romano eating chestnuts in the bell tower wasn’t what greeted him. Roderich had eventually noticed his charge had been missing for too long and had him dragged back to the house and, after that, to the city wall's defences. Romano got outfitted in some almost offensively basic armour and had a musket pressed into his hands. At daybreak, he was made to stand next to Austria when their cavalries and Antonio’s were facing each other. Roderich stubbornly declared that the people of South Italy didn't welcome the Spanish and that Spain was to leave at once. He elbowed Romano and he repeated the words without much heart. The face of Romano, who was standing next to Roderich- supposedly to make Antonio feel like Romano no longer wanted to be in his care- spoke volumes: ‘Please Antonio don't kill too many civilians and I'll gladly return to you’. He looked like what he was: a defiant teenager being made to stand somewhere and say something by an overbearing parent. Antonio turned a hard gaze to his ex-husband and smirked as he rose to the challenge. He didn’t say anything and just stepped closer to Roderich, who in a moment of weakness fidgeted with the ring on his right hand that he was still wearing. Satisfied with the reaction Antonio spat on the ground and turned his back as they both drew back into their ranks.

Watching a battle like this take place was an incredibly tense affair. Romano was stationed at the city walls, near the Porte Baresana, and was gripping his musket as he watched the Spanish cavalry perform feints. Antonio was provoking Roderich, trying to get him to react, trying to get him to break formation. There was a certain art to this game of strategy but he could only see it in theory later back in the studies of learned men during peacetime, here in the moment however he could only count the seconds until he’d get pulled into the chaos of combat. It didn’t take long for Roderich to take the bait; the sun was barely peeking over the olive groves on the surrounding hills when the cavalry broke. It had started. Romano loaded his musket in case he had to defend himself, not knowing if that would be against Spaniard or Austrian and watched Roderich’s neatly lined up cavalry ranks devolve into a disorganised scrambling mess. It was poetic somehow; this was the effect Antonio always had on Roderich. So often had Romano watched how all the refined order Roderich portrayed to the world would come undone and unravel at Antonio’s smallest provocation.

Then, one by one he could see riders break away from the group and disappear into the hills. “Accidenti! They’re fleeing!” He shouted to the soldier next to him, but also just half to himself. Roderich’s army was crumbling and fleeing in the direction of Bari. Romano leaned further over the balustrade, trying to see what happened but a cannon fired, and the infantry opened fire, causing thick clouds of gunpowder and smoke to obscure the view of the battle taking place in the valley. He ran down the wooden stairs of the temporary scaffolding that had been put up along the city wall to go and find a better viewpoint, but the moment he got down, the city gate burst open and Austrian soldiers rushed in. Amongst them was Roderich on horseback, smeared with soot and looking like a cornered animal about to jump. He spotted Romano instantly and grabbed his shirt. Romano got pulled close against the horse. The boy was nervous to be that close to the large animal in such a chaotic environment, it could trample him if it got spooked. Roderich leaned close so he could shout instructions at him over the noise of the battle and the chaos in town.

“I’m going to get reinforcements- defend the down! I’ll be back soon I promise.”

In a moment of forced parental affection, Roderich patted his head and smiled at him. “I have faith in you, you can do it!” He then let go and turned his horse. When he galloped out, Romano saw that Guiseppe Antonio, Prince of Belmonte, the commander of the Austrian troops followed him. They were without a leader in here, no general left to instruct the Austrian forces still within the walls. Romano ran the moment Roderich was out of sight, to hide, to keep himself safe. He was so done with cleaning up the mess these two had made of themselves. He was so done fighting Roderich’s battles. Still the Austrian soldiers, despite being without a leader showed no intention to surrender. Jogging as far from the battle as his heavy, clunky, slightly too large, armour permitted. Romano found an empty garrison building he could wait out the siege in. To his joy, he found an abandoned bottle of wine and a supply closet, perfect. To the devil with courage: this wasn’t his fight. He was just a leaf in the wind being blown around mercilessly by the powers of Europe, he might as well lament his fate with a bottle in hand, getting drunk. It also hurt less if you get shot when you’re drunk, he knew by experience, it numbs everything.

Halfway through the bottle, Romano got up to piss. A little unsteady, he made his way to the window and peeked outside to see if it was safe to find an alley or latrine. Oh, fuck no it wasn’t, soldiers were running around, and bullets were flying, he’d have to find an alternative. He searched the building a bit but didn’t dare to go too far from his supply closet: A stray bullet going through the windows could still hit him. He crawled on all fours to another door and opened it. It was another supply closet but this one was filled with ammunition… Oh, and a bucket thank god. Romano crawled in and closed the closet door. He stood up and unbuttoned his fly, let out a sigh of relief and started. As he was doing his business he started casually looking around at the closet, and then a great idea came to him. Great ideas tend to strike when you’re in the bathroom (or in this case a closet?), especially if they’re coming from that place of ‘not quite drunk but definitely beyond tipsy’ state of mind. There was a way to end this stupid battle without having to fight either the Spanish or the Austrian soldiers. With a shit-eating grin, he tucked himself away and took two kegs of gunpowder under his arms. He cracked the door open just enough so that he could look outside of it. Once he saw a clear line, he took a sprint and found the cesspit behind a block of houses. He tore open the barrels and dumped them in. He paused and then threw some water on it as well, can’t have that stuff blowing. He made the same run five more times, dumping round musket bullets, gunpowder and lint into the cesspit and then dumped a wheelbarrow full of manure on it to hide it. Exhausted he wandered over to a tree and sat down. Night had fallen and the fighting had seized. He sat there and almost fell asleep from exhaustion, but he eventually got cold and dragged himself home. The armour clattered to the floor and Romano stumbled to his bed. He passed Austria’s empty room, the bigger and more luxurious one. For a moment he contemplated sleeping there, but he knew he’d be uncomfortable doing so. He just took the down feather-filled pillows and then went to his simple cot.

The next morning, he dragged himself back to the front line, in armour, to see how the situation was progressing. The highest-ranking soldiers were discussing strategy in rapid German and Romano stifled a yawn. They had already started giving commands for the soldiers to take positions and the fighting to resume when a young Italian mercenary working for the Austrians came sprinting towards them. “Stop! Stop wait! We are all out of ammunition!” Confused murmurs rose through camp. Accusations were thrown left and right, but yesterday had been chaos, everyone had been shooting everything and no one had exactly kept count. After a tense silence they realised there was no way to salvage this, they had to surrender. Romano showed no emotion, even feigned some surprise but oh, his relief was immense. His plan had worked.

Romano removed himself from the command tent and marched himself back into the city centre, sitting on the steps of the Cathedral, waiting. He could see the white flags rising on the watchtowers and there were some very tense minutes of silence before, with an utter cacophony, the Spanish army poured into the streets. They were not killing or plundering to his great relief. Then he saw him, slowly emerging out of the crowds. He saw Antonio before the other saw him. On horseback he rose above everything, first, he could see a glimpse of him and as he approached, he was revealed to Romano like the sun slowly emerging from the clouds and equally radiant. The moment those green eyes locked with his Romano felt his chest contract with a painful surge of emotion. Antonio looked better than he’d seen him look in fifty years, gone was the sickly crumbling empire, and returned to him was that brazen, youthful Achilles. It had been twenty years, yet the moment he saw him it was like the first time again. Every part of him remembered at once his inescapable entanglement with this man: The absence hadn’t removed his shackles; the chain had just gotten longer. Their eyes met and Antonio smiled. Of course, he’d be smiling, he’d won after all, always getting his way, that man.

Romano threw his hair out of his face and looked up at the other with a defiant smirk. He was the first to speak and threw a casual and uninterested sounding greeting at the occupying nation. Anything to hide that he was trembling.

“Ciao, so… what have you been up to? Haven’t seen you around these parts for a while. Was the food bad last time or-”

He couldn’t finish his little charade of uninterested chatter because with a loud clatter of armour Antonio had swung himself off his horse and landed in front of him cutting him off with the sheer noise the metal made. Before he knew it, strong arms pulled him to his feet and into a tight embrace. Romano initially stiffened but slowly allowed himself to ease into it. He would’ve given a lot for this embrace in the past, had it come earlier. Had it come before he had learnt to know better than to have expectations. He tried to draw back because if he stayed there longer he would lose control of his volatile heart but found he couldn’t. The strong arms tightened when he tried, and he found he wasn’t as much embraced as that he was captured. His cheeks flushed red in frustration, instantly recalling that this was the way things were again: Everything was on Antonio’s terms, it was imitated on his terms and it didn’t end until he had gotten what he wanted.

“Mi Nápules, don’t be so cold- I came back for you! I tried before but I wasn’t strong enough yet. I should run into that cathedral behind us right now and thank God on my knees for returning you to me.”

Still, the grasp did not relent. Antonio’s eyes were firmly on the Romanesque cathedral behind Romano’s back as he kept talking.

“Of course, Roderich isn’t completely defeated yet, he’s regrouping in Bari.”

He squeezed harder, possessively, it almost hurt.

“Technically you’re still his territory. I suppose you should still aid him in the next phase of the battle…But I don’t think you want to. Come let’s go pray and go home, your house here! I want to see it!”

And like that it was all decided for him, while he was muzzled, any opinion he’d might want to express muted as his face was pressed into Spain’s shoulder. When he could finally breathe again, blinking against the light of the returning, bright Italian sunlight he was already being pulled along into the cathedral so God himself could seal his fate and seal this reunion.

#spamano #spaus #frain #aph spain #aph south italy #aph france #historical hetalia #juliwrites

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imagine-aph-everything-blog · 7 years

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What if Gordon Ramsay appeared in England's kitchen while Arthur was trying to cook? What hilarity would ensue?

if you consider arthur crying hilarity (which i do) then yes

#Hetalia #crossover #kitchen nightmares x hetalia #😩😩💦

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drowning-in-dennor · 5 years

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Nightmare

In a world where one can hear whatever music their soulmate is listening to, one can find themselves listening to some rather romantic songs. This is not the case for one unfortunate young man, though, whose soulmate has developed the tendency to listen to obnoxious meme music. [Written for day three of @weekofhetalia‘s Hetalia Extravaganza.]

The clock reads “3:00 a.m.”.

He smothers his face in the pillow, muffles a pained scream and tries to block out the annoying song in his head.

Whoever his soulmate is, Stellan’s ready to tear him apart with his bare hands. Who the hell is listening to some Barbie song at three in the morning!? He grabs his phone, plugs in his earphones and tries to wash his sorrows away with some of his own music, knowing that his soulmate’ll be listening to it, too. Take that, bastard.

The music stops around fifteen minutes later, and Stellan unplugs his earphones and tries to go back to sleep.

…

When he storms into his office the next day, shooting a murderous look at his poor secretary, Aleksander gets up from his seat and pats his shoulder sympathetically. “Your soulmate?”

“Obviously,” he seethes, “they started listening to some idiotic song in the middle of the night and woke me up. Again.” Stellan pulls his chair out and sits down, yanking out his notebook with a little too much force. “I really hope my soulmate isn’t someone who listens to children's cartoon music at strange hours.”

Aleksander laughs and takes his seat in the cubicle next to Stellan’s. “Ah, we’ve all heard that special someone listen to something weird. Bogden was scared out of his wits because I kept listening to, and I quote, ‘scary music’. Maybe they’ll actually be really nice.”

Stellan flips a page open, pulling a pen out and scribbling incoherently. “I highly doubt anyone who listens to Barbie songs at three in the morning could be ‘really nice’.”

“You never know,” he says, “I remember Bogden being all surprised when it turned out I was his soulmate. He said I was too cute to be listening to that kind of music!” At Stellan’s incredulous huff, Aleksander pokes his head over their divider. “Come on, have some faith! Your soulmate will be perfect for you.”

Rapidly clicking his pen, Stellan turns to another page and nearly rips it out of his notebook. “He better be, or I’m going to be very, very disappointed.”

…

Never gonna give you up, never gonna let you down…

“Oh, are you FUC — “

“What’re they listening to?” Aleksander calls.

“Never Going to Give You Up!” Stellan resists the urge to slam his head on his desk and grabs his phone, plugging in his earphones again. “I swear, if they start listening to some idiotic song again, I will hunt them down and rip them apart limb from limb.”

The jaunty chorus of Never Going to Give you Up slowly melts away as the soothing voice of Patti Paige starts to play from his cell phone, and Stellan continues with his work.

I remember the nights and the Tennessee Waltz, now I know just how much I have lost…

…

...yes, I lost my little darling the night they were playing the beautiful Tennessee Waltz!

Stellan pushes the door open to Boulangerie Bonnefoy. “Good afternoon, Matthieu.”

“Hey, Stellan.” Matthieu waves from the counter, laying out fluffy brioche rolls in their display cases. “The usual?”

“Yes, please,” he says, sitting down at a table by the window, “and I’m sorry if I end up rather… cranky today. My soulmate’s being an asshole.”

Matthieu walks back into the kitchen. “Are they playing weird music?”

“They rickrolled me.”

“Ah, the classic trick.”

A few minutes later, Matthieu comes out with a bowl of steaming soup and a plate of barbajuan. “Here you go.” He smiles as he returns to the counter. “And good luck with your soulmate.”

To prevent any unpleasant surprises (and spilling of soup), Stellan puts on his earphones and starts playing his own music. For a good ten minutes, he manages to have his lunch in peace, enjoying the flaky, rich barbajuan and creamy soup.

Then the door swings open, and in walk a group of three incredibly loud men.

“I’m telling you, man,” one of them rants, “there’s no way my talented boy Michael lost to Wendy, of all his classmates! I bet the competition was rigged!”

“Or, Al,” another says, “Kirkland’s little girl just had a better speech. I mean, Michael’s speech started with, ‘hot take: uniforms are stupid and here’s why’.”

Al turns on his friend, crossing his arms. “It was a good intro!”

“It was good because you thought of it?” The last man asks.

“It was good because it was engaging and unconventional, Gilbert!”

“When did you learn those words?” Gilbert dodges a kick from Al and runs towards the counter, slamming his hands on top. “Hey, can we have, uh, three of those little quiche things, please? Thanks.”

A very startled-looking Matthieu pokes his head into the kitchen, presumably telling his brother to prepare the mens’ lunch. “Do you want anything else?”

“Nope.” He gestures for his friends to pay, dropping a few notes on the counter. “Hey Al, pass the dough. Henrik,” Gilbert looks to him, “you going to pay or not?”

Henrik clutches his head, rubbing at his temples. “One sec, my soulmate’s listening to their old-timey music again. Lemme shut them up.”

Exactly twenty seconds later, Stellan’s napkin flutters to the ground as he claps a hand against his forehead, the astonishingly obnoxious first verse of Take Me On suddenly screaming in his head.

“Yeah, there we go.” Henrik passes Gilbert his money, tightening his headphones. “I predict I’ll have five minutes until they retaliate.”

You must remember this — a kiss is still a kiss, a sigh is just a sigh! The fundamental things apply as time goes by…

“I thought so.”

He drops his spoon as the Soviet Union’s anthem starts playing in his head. Stellan fumbles for his phone and clicks on the first song in his playlist.

Nidelven River so still and so sweet, here I do go to dream, dreaming of you whom I once loved so dear, faded now to mere memories —

BAB —

Stellan rips his headphones out and jumps to his feet, shouting to nobody in particular, “will you STOP?”

Henrik drops his phone in surprise, staring at him. “...what?”

“Oh.” He sits back down, face burning. “I’m sorry, my soulmate’s playing some really stupid music, that’s all.”

“Don’t worry, so’s mine. All that old music’s driving me insane!”

And it clicks.

Getting up again, Stellan points at Henrik as his face blooms crimson. “So it was you!”

“What?”

“You were the one playing all that stupid music!” He approaches Henrik, scowling. “You woke me up at three in the morning today and scared the hell out of me with your idiotic prank!”

Henrik places his hands on his hips. “Well, you were the one playing all those boring songs that sound like they’re from the Stone Age!”

“That also means you two are soulmates,” Al interrupts.

Stellan looks at Henrik. “Wait.”

“Hold up.”

“No way you’re my soulmate!” He stomps towards Henrik, placing his hands on his shoulders. “No way the person I’m supposed to be with is a fan of such insipid music!”

“And no way is my soulmate someone who listens to sappy old songs! I mean, they’re super sweet and actually not that bad, but — “

“You think they’re sweet?”

Henrik pauses. “Yes? They’re kind of boring, but the lyrics are cute.”

Stellan’s face turns pink as he stares at him. “You know,” he slowly says, “maybe this won’t be too bad if you can appreciate my music.”

“And if you can appreciate mine.”

“No promises.” He smiles, barely so, at Henrik. “But I’ll try.”

#aph dennor #APH Denmark #APH Norway #aph robul #aph romania #APH America #APH Prussia #aph awesome trio #aph fanfiction #hetaliaextravanganza2k19 #my writing

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lnthedudess · 3 years

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How do we recommend Iggy to the casting team of Kitchen Nightmares lol?

#hetalia #hetalia gordon ramsay #hetalia england #hetalia kitchen nightmares #arthur kirkland

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thelambsofiscariot · 6 years

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☀ ━ how long have you been roleplaying? how did you get into it?❤ ━ do you have any crackships for your muse?♕ ━ which fictional characters are your favorites?回 ━ what are your top four favorite shows?

☀ ━ how long have you been roleplaying? How did you get into it?

That’s a difficult one… I remember doing some really half-arsed roleplaying in right around 5th or 6th grade when I was into Hetalia (an anime/manga based on personified countries)… really lame Google chat stuff, using asterisks for actions and dialogue only. Nothing vaguely multi-para or anything. They were really ridiculous scenarios too… some were NSFW… I don’t remember much ahaha except that it was Austria who became my victim as a first “muse.” Though I can’t really call him that because it’s an insult to his character hahaha…

But! Later on I returned to roleplay just last year, summer of 2016, to Hetalia again. Before then, I briefly ran a 2P!England ask blog based around a religious AU that didn’t get off the ground at all (I probably had 1 thread and wrote one drabble?). But summer of 2016 was when I started getting into boards online… boards are different from Tumblr in that they’re closed communities with strict rules, usually restricted to one player per canon, and application-based.

I wrote firstly on a mutant/human AU Hetalia board as Russia, then moved over to a gothic horror Hetalia AU which I was much more involved in as a Russia + Macau + Kugelmugel + Nyo!Vietnam (planned but never finished the app for him actually?). From there I joined a MARVEL board which I was really, really involved in as a Tony Stark. Fuck, I love Tony Stark so much ahaha. Then I somehow found myself here in May of 2017 as Takeo on @rk2-sharpshooter, then ended up making this blog a couple months later, and the rest is history…

I guess you could say I’ve RPed for 8 years (counting from Google chat, but I don’t count that fuck lmao), or just over a year from when I started RPing on boards properly.

❤ ━ do you have any crackships for your muse?

Always. I know that I’ve said I adore Raizel x Urokai, which… tbh shouldn’t even be a crack ship, because Urokai’s feelings are so genuine? But I did expand from there and inch into Frankenstein x Urokai. And then added Raizel x Urokai x Frankenstein to the mix… I think Frankenstein x Urokai is my big one right now.

As for Gradeus, I really ship Gradeus x Tao lol it’s a thing that just happened… RP AU wise… but now I can’t unsee it and oops??

I DON’T TALK ABOUT MY SIDE CHARAS MUCH BUT BOY FUCK @sanjeruman and I got us into a huge mess with Saint Germain x Raizel and I’m just. mmMMM GOOD SHIT.

♕ ━ which fictional characters are your favorites?

Fuck. Urokai Agvain for sure, man. Ugggh Frankenstein is a close second, but I just love my main pathetic boy.

回 ━ what are your top four favorite shows?

It’s been a long time since I watched any shows buuut… Kitchen Nightmares, NCIS, Criminal Minds, and… Ghost Whisperer. Yeah, that was the highlight of my childhood, if you mean live action TV shows… and not cartoons, because I have WAY too many faves of that.

#rksilverknight #ask #( 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔪𝔢𝔪𝔢 𝔰𝔭𝔢𝔞𝔨𝔢𝔱𝔥 || ooc )#( 𝔩𝔢𝔱'𝔰 𝔱𝔞𝔩𝔨 𝔞𝔟𝔬𝔲𝔱 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔱. || admin interaction. )#[ fja;sldkfa THANK YOU FOR ALL THESE ]#[ you're a sweetie <3 ]#[ also this ask was from... ]#[ fuck at least a month ago ]#[ SOME OF THIS INFO IS OUTDATED BUT WHATEVS ]#[ it feels so weird to come back to an ask where old me was rambling about loving frankenstein x urokai ]#[ but I didn't have anyone who RPed it with me at the time ]#[ and then I come back with Rinu as my Franken and then present me has to tack on Saint x Raizel... ]#[ surreal shit ]

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