#prussia x reader

[504py]

Yandere Prussia Relationship Headcanons

Gender neutral, no use of Y/N, NSFW, murder, kidnapping mention, stalking, long post ahead!

we're SO BACK JOE. i apologize in advance if i write him strangely 😭😭🙏 but here it is! come get y'all juice!! slowly coming back to hetalia, so my inbox is once again open!!! hope y'all like it!

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How the relationship started...

Gilbert is a very competitive man, and he can't help but be attracted by challenges, even if those challenges are ones that he himself proposes and the other party is completely unaware. This is what has unfortunately happened between you two, and it all started when you rejected his advances towards you.

I apologize for saying this, but I feel that Gilbert is a bit of a "nice guy". He saw you initially as just some pretty person he could fool around and flirt with, but you, obviously, saw right through his act, and said something that stuck with him.

"Are you normally this pathetic?"

He's taken aback, and his red irises shake a little.

Of course, he's used to insults being flung his way, what with how he acts, but a shot to how cool he perceives himself to be would stick.

His white brows crease his previously smirking face, before snapping back.

"Well fuck you too!"

Gilbert wouldn't have any contact with you following this interaction for a long while, and while he tries to forget you and erase you from his memory, you and your words have been laser-burnt into the creases of his brain. You and your damned smile when you look at anyone other than him, the softer tone your voice takes when you talk to other people, versus how your voice seems to have been drained of all enthusiasm and feels like it's a knife dripping with venom when Gilbert talks to you. Why didn't he deserve that nice treatment, too? Was he not even deserving of a small smile from you? He wants you to like him, too. He wants to be the person you like the most; to be the best.

Which resulted in him showing up at your door one evening with flowers and your favorite takeout.

Why does he know your address and why does he know your favorite food and flowers, you ask? Don't worry about it (He was obsessively stalking your social media during the month he was gone).

Gilbert apologizes to you, he sounds sincere, and like the oh-so kind person you are, or maybe you just wanted the food and flowers, you let him into your home.

Expectations...

Gilbert is a very insecure man. His only expectation is for you to look at only him and to love him only. Perhaps he wants you to love him the same way he loves you, obsessively, but he does like the challenge.

He feels like, maybe, if he can fully prove himself to you one day and have your validation, only then can he truly see himself as worthy, as the best for you.

He would have a lot of tunnel vision when it comes to you. To Gilbert, the rest of the world doesn't matter, because you are his whole world. He does tend to look pretty stupid because of it sometimes, but he couldn't care less.

You want him to cook and clean around the house? He'll do it.

You want him to change up his style even if he doesn't really like it? Of course he will!

You want him to carry all the bags while you're out shopping? In a heartbeat. Plus, he gets to show off his strength too. He'd carry you too if you allowed it.

Even if he tries his best not to come off as cocky, he really does like showing off. Being with you has sort of domesticated him, so he'd be a lot more shy about making a show of himself.

I think he'd act like this irregardless on if you accepted him as your boyfriend or not, if anything, I think he'd be even more of a doormat if you refuse to accept him.

He'd get crazier and crazier with his attempts to prove himself to you, such as buying extravagant gifts, doing anything and everything under the sun and moon for you, hell, he'd even legally change his name if you didn't like it.

If you still don't accept him despite everything he's done, I think he'd snap and just take you. He'll keep you with him so you won't run away and he can have as many attempts as it takes to prove himself to you.

But I imagine you'd cave from the guilt and persistence, and eventually accept him. At which, he'd literally scream from relief and happiness and swing you around, before realizing how rough he's being with you and hurriedly putting you back down and apologizing.

Yet he still has that wide toothy grin the whole time, and he keeps petting your hair and holding your face in his hands adoringly. It feels that, from that moment on, there would never be a moment where he'd be unhappy ever again, and he'd never allow you to be unhappy either as long as he's around.

It is genuinely very hard to make this Gilbert upset, because there are very few things that do...

Punishments...

Gilbert really hates it when you express any sort of affection towards anyone or anything other than him.

Yes, anything. He gets jealous if you show too much affection over his dogs or fawn over them too much. I'm seriously saying this, I think he'd later show up with a collar around his neck, crawling on the ground and rubbing his head against your thigh like a mutt. This could either come off as comedic or attractive depending on you, but either is a win in Gilbert's book, since at least he's got your attention now.

If you have any personal toys of your own, he'd get kinda emotional and ask you to throw them away, then ask what they do that he can't. In some time (and by that I mean later that night, maybe even right away), he'd prove that he can provide you with so much more pleasure and relief than those toys ever could.

Probably even to a fault, he'd keep overstimulating you and forcing orgasms till he was satisfied, till he believed that it was drilled into your brain that only he could do these sorts of things to you. And, also, that if you make him jealous like this again, it'll be another one of these long, torturous, sweaty nights...

I guess these aren't really punishments to a lot of people, because in my book only one thing could make him so genuinely upset that he'd be anything other than doting towards you, and that would be flirting with someone else. He'd try to deny it, but then he'd be inconsolable and crying for weeks, having nights where he'd be begging you to say that it never happened, or that the other person meant nothing to you.

"They r-really mean nothing to you? You mean it, babe?"

Then an idea pops into Gilbert's head, one that makes his heart rate pick up and his pupils dilate.

He kisses you, says that he loves you, says goodnight, then he'd be eerily... calm for the next few days. Usually he'd be more skittish and closed-off following whatever you did, but now he's acting like nothing ever happened.

Until one day, he shows up with that other person, bound and gagged, and a gun.

"G-Gil, what is thi-"

"They mean nothing to you, right?"

"Y-Yes, but-"

Then the gun fires, and it happens so quickly that you can barely process it.

This is only a hypothetical scenario, if you were ever to do something like that. It'd be really easy for Gilbert to slip into a psychosis and believe he was doing the right thing by murdering someone.

If anything, he sees it as another means of proving himself.

"There's no one else who would kill for you like I could."

All in all, he isn't easy to anger, but unfortunately I can't say the same thing about him and murder...

Rewards...

Luckily, as long as you're fully loyal to him, all you'd have is a boyfriend who is doting to a total fault.

As long as you've got a good tolerance for cringe, being with Gilbert should be relatively stress-free.

Gilbert's love languages are words of affirmation and physical touch. You could imagine what the two combined would be... Yeah, he's got a huge praise kink.

But as for ways he shows his love towards you, it's definitely acts of service and gift giving. He lilkes gloating a lot, and that's especially true when it comes to the two of you.

He enjoys showing you off. He likes buying gaudy things for you and himself�� a huge fan of matching outfits– and taking you out on flashy dates. If you're comfortable with being posted on his social media, best believe he'd be spamming his with you ALL the time. Even if you're not being physically being shown, he'd write about you in his tweets, captions, and stories constantly.

"CHECK OUT THIS EPIC BAG I GOT FOR MY BELOVED!!!!!!!!"

And around twenty-eight people respond like "Didn't you just get them one the other day??"

If you're one to hop between interests and hobbies a lot, or just have any hyperfixations in general, best believe Gilbert will be fueling them LOL.

Gilbert can be really overbearing with his affections, but to him it's just because you deserve it so much. Only the best for the best, right?

He can't help it either, the most rewarding thing he's ever felt is that feeling he gets after he gives you a gift or does something for you. You get this adorable look on your face, smiling at him like he was the stars in the sky and singing out the sweetest compliments and thanks. It's all so worth it.

Normally I'd delve into what Gilbert would love to receive from his partner in return, but in all seriousness, I really do think all he wants is praise and your sole affection.

Like Alfred in my last headcanon post, Gilbert is really noisy, but I think he'd willingly make an effort to change that for you. Not because you asked for it or anything, but just cause, this way, he can appreciate all the tiny little things about you even more.

He realized this, when, one day, he noticed you frown a little before you smile. He wonders why he's never noticed this, and he realizes it's because he closes his eyes right when he starts to laugh. He starts to wonder what other little details about you he's missing out on, so he watches you more carefully in that effort.

Inadvertently, this has made him more calm and quiet since he's so concentrated on you. He likes it, though.

I think, what punctuates Gilbert's character here, is his willingness to change and bend for love's sake.

He does say he loves you very often, to the point of it being annoying sometimes, but he sincerely does mean it. He doesn't say it as just fluff.

However, you'll feel it most with the way he looks at you.

"You have a mole on your back. Did you know that, babe?"

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(art used is mine, so please do show it some love on my blog as well! thinking of starting a taglist?)

[serenityinstone]

Feline Fiasco

Hetalia x Reader

This is written for a female reader but there isn't really anything specific that would suggest that besides a few references. If you want to read, I'm not going to stop you.

Also (Y/n) is completely uninterested in the countries for the majority of this, all she's interested in is the cats. This is way fluffier than anything else I've posted, which is two things, and this part is relatively America-centric because (Y/n) works for him. This is also way less quality work than those two posts but idk deal with it?

There is more to this but it's unfinished and I'll probably never post it. My friend also helped with the cat names so if you don't like them... uh assume that they chose them. One last note, I thought it would be funny to write the accents so you also have to deal with that.

As one of the many secretaries working in the White House, it was actually quite a surprise to you that you ended up as the main secretary to the human personification of the U.S.A.

Because of this, you had become quite close to Mr. F. Jones and more importantly: his cat.

You couldn't help but coo at the adorable and floofy feline. Sure, you should probably finish filing those papers, but national security can wait a few more minutes. Besides you couldn't resist the allure of the purr. It would be an understatement to say, when you learned that the other personifications also had furry friends of their own, you were excited.

America didn't want you interacting with the other countries, especially not Russia. But you honestly didn't care and you weren't the recording secretary for those meetings, so it's not like you were in attendance anyways. That somehow didn't stop you from having to tag along and meeting more nation cats; of which you weren't sure why they had brought them along in the first place. It's not like you were complaining.

Ball of fur after ball of fur. No cat went un-petted. Except for Germany's cat; he had evaded you time and time again. But no longer! For today was the last day and you were going to pet that cat if it was the last thing you did.

There it was. It's sleek black fur, the ribbon in Germany's signature colors around its neck, and that always alert look on its face. He would evade you no more. You crouched down in your very inflexible pencil skirt and prepared to pounce.

"Vhat are jou doing?" A voice thick with a German accent called out, startling you and the cat who decided to bound back towards him and into his arms.

"Uhhhh." You blanked.

"You're America's secretary right? Vat vere jou trying to do to my cat?" He questioned, eyes narrowing with suspicion.

You gulped and tried to explain your actions in a way that didn't sound absolutely ridiculous.

"I-uh. I wanted to pet your cat and… he kept evading me and I thought if I snuck up on him that I could pet him." You looked away and pitifully whispered, "Sorry."

"If jou vanted to pet him, all you had to do was ask."

"Really!?" Your eyes lit up and you looked up at the German with pure and unbridled excitement. He coughed and looked away with a slight blush resting on his cheeks.

"Of course." He held the cat out. You, with no hesitation whatsoever, immediately started to adore and love the cat, even shifting it from Germany's arms to your own.

As you continued to pet the cat, who despite his earlier refusal, seemed quite happy, you asked Germany a question. "My name's (Y/n). What's yours if you're willing to share? No pressure though."

His eyes widened a bit before he shook it off and gave you an answer. "Ludwig Beilschmidt." He responded, studying his cat. "Germouser seems to like jou."

You could barely stifle a laugh at the name he had given to the black cat. He sensed your amusement and gave an explanation.

"Feli- Italy named him. I vas going to name him Johann or something similar. Italy was zoroughly horrified by my suggestions and vould not rest until I vent vith his."

You smiled at the Italian's antics and shook your head with amusement. "Germouser is a fine name for an absolutely wonderful cat."

Germany seemed to get flustered again as he watched you coo at his cat, completely ignoring his presence. He would have just left him with you, but the meeting was starting soon and he didn't want to be late. Luckily for him, America decided to pop around the corner, demanding your attention. So you were forced to give up the precious kitty cat and return with Mr. Jones.

Alfred was annoyed. Not at you but at everyone else. Why did they have any right to be around you? You were an American citizen. His citizen. Sure, all you were really interested in was their cats. But what if you thought that they and their cats were so cool that you left him and went to live in a different country instead? He couldn't let that happen.

"So, (Y/n), dude, broette." He said on the way to the meeting room. "Here's the deal."

You gave him a look and raised an eyebrow.

"I need someone to watch Hero for me and my sitter flaked so you're gonna be watching him." He fingered-gunned at you and stars seemed to shine in the air around him. This, of course, was nothing new to you. It wasn’t like you would have rather been attending the meeting anyways.

So you stayed in a different unoccupied meeting room with a lovely, furry friend. It wasn't until he started hissing at a corner that you were in trouble.

"Hero, what's wrong?" You asked, concerned at the agitated cat. His tail bristled up and his ears flattened down as he took a defensive position. Out of nowhere another fluffy cat waltzed in from the very corner that Hero had been hissing at. It was Boris, a cat that belonged to Russia.

You hadn't actually gotten to pet him yet because to be honest, you were also scared of Russia. But… He wasn't around… and his cat was. And his cat was purring.

That was about all the reasoning that you needed to brush past Hero and scoop Boris up into your arms. The former started yowling for your attention and followed you as you went to sit down with the Russian cat.

You laid down on the plush carpeted floor and lifted the cat that you were holding up above you. Boris’ fluffy body was placed onto your chest and he immediately started purring louder once he got comfortable. He nuzzled his face into your neck, much to the annoyance of the American cat. Hero yowled at you and pawed at Boris, desperately trying to get him off.

Boris only gave him a smug look in return and kneaded into you, further solidifying his spot. Hero decided that it wasn’t worth the fight and that he was going to get his owner to remove the Russian cat and put him back into his mother’s lap: aka you.

The surprisingly smart and agile cat leapt around the room and pushed down the door handle, slipping out through the crack. You didn’t notice this as you were currently immersed in the bliss of a cat sitting on you and letting you pet it.

Eventually the purring lulled you into a peaceful and warm slumber, the two of you deciding to take a cat nap.

It would be Russia who found you first. Ivan realized that his cat had gone missing and he honestly didn’t care enough about the meeting to stay. It's not like anyone would try to stop him.

So as Hero bounded down the halls towards the meeting room, Mr. Ivan Braginsky came from the other direction; his sense of where his cat was at any one moment was completely uncanny.

The Russian gradually opened the wooden door and it quietly opened without any resistance. He turned his head towards where he heard purring and was met with a surprising sight. It was America’s secretary, with his cat, lying, with his cat.

You were breathing softly and the movements of your chest moving up and down also moved Boris. Ivan couldn’t help but faintly smile at the sight. Said cat opened a singular eye to acknowledge the new presence in the room. He flicked his tail and settled back into his spot. Not wanting to bother you or the cat, Ivan pulled out a chair and sat down. 

He pulled out some paperwork, seemingly from nowhere, and began to work on it. The sounds of your quiet breathing, combined with the light purr from Boris, made for a calming work environment. 

As the three of you remained in peaceful bliss, another kitty cat was running around the corner on the never ending search for food. Itabby trotted up and down the corridors looking for an open door that might lead to some food that didn’t come from England. Her golden fur glimmered as the sun shined through the many windows in the building. She looked over at a door that had opened slightly and was too blinded by the thought of food to notice the scarily familiar scent coming from the room.

Itabby scampered over to the door but screeched and meowed as she was sent flying by an American blonde and his equally irritated cat. She tentatively peered around the door at the scene forming.

“HEY!” Alfred yelled, startling both you and the cat. You shot up straight, Boris falling into your lap. “What are you doing with her?!” He yelled again, getting his face up into Ivan’s. The other man gave him an unamused look and stood up, towering over him. Alfred, despite this, did not back down and continued to stare angrily at him.

“Go away.” The white-haired male said, his accent heavy as he crossed his arms. “You have startled them with your unnecessary noise. You are just like the rest of your country.”

The air tensed and became heavier as the seconds went on. They began to size each other up as Hero, ironically, “heroically” walked proudly over to you and with his front paws, pushed Boris off of your lap. He quickly took his place and started purring. Boris’ fur began to puff up as he hunched down and prepared to pounce. His back legs flexed and he made the jump, sending both him and Hero flying towards their fighting owners, who were remarkably somehow not in a physical fight. Yet.

You very quickly realized that you did not want to be in the middle of  two superpowers fighting and quietly took your leave. (E/c) eyes met feline amber ones and you swept up the cat and made your escape, leaving behind the feuding men and cats.

Itabby snuggled into your arms as you finally slowed down to catch your breath. Her round tail whooshed back and forth as you tiredly walked through the long hallway. The two of you eventually ended up in the rose gardens of the meeting building. The area was well taken care of and beautiful if you did say so yourself. The meeting was taking place in England and Mr. Jones had told you about how the Brit enjoyed gardening, so it made sense as to why it was here.

Speaking of the British, you spotted a fluffy feline shape from the corner of your eye. It was deeper into the gardens and among the trees. Itabby finally decided that it was time to go and return to her owner. She gracefully leaped out of your arms and landed on all fours and trotted off to beg Italy for some pasta. You instead continued your approach to the cat, which at this point, you could tell was a Scottish Fold.

The left side of his face was brown and so was his tail. Alike to his owner, he seemed to have what you assumed were some kind of eyebrows and when he opened his eyes to look at you, his olive eyes stared into yours. He flicked his tail and layed back down onto the wall that he was laying on. His collar jingled as he moved and you quietly moved up to him. On the gold circle attached to the same olive color collar, was a name.

‘Scone’ You thought. ‘Oh my god. This is the most English cat name I have ever seen.’

You almost started laughing but the smoldering glare the cat gave you made you think otherwise. The stone wall was surprisingly cold for the summer sun and as you sat down, you took a look at Scone. He seemed to still be quite grumpy, but he knew you from earlier in the week, so he was not alarmed. You lifted up and moved your left arm forward to start petting him.

Scone was soft and clearly well-taken care of. His fur was clean and had no knots or dirt insight, despite laying around a garden for half a day. You continued your actions and the both of you started to fall back into slumber. Your hand hovered on the back of the feline and your head slumped alongside your body.

It was peaceful. With birds chirping and the wind lightly blowing. There was a river babbling somewhere in the background and it made for a serene scene. The only reason he had let you pet him was because you had fed him earlier in the week. He didn’t have his collar at that point so this was the first time you had gotten his name. Your eyes closed as you recalled the event from a couple of days prior.

The day after the plane landed you were on the hunt for felines. Armed with some cat food, a retractable mouse-on-a-stick and hope, you made your way around the building England had set aside for housing the rampant countries, and byproduct, their cats. France’s cat, Monsieur, was an absolute attention wh-. He really liked attention, and would rub himself against your leg anytime the two of you crossed paths. It’s not like France, or Francis, was much better.

It’s not like you minded petting him. He was adorable after all. The cat, not Francis. But you had wanted to meet as many other cats as you could and so you had to stop by Francis’ room multiple times to drop off Monsieur.

“Je suis désolé.” He said, taking Monsieur out of your arms. “He keeps getting out. But I guess he knows when there’s a lovely lady around.”

You ignored his attempts at flirting and instead scratched Monsieur’s chin one last time before leaving. He purred at you and while you felt bad about leaving him, you were on a mission! Besides, you had a certain Japanese cat to track down. Monsieur meowed at you as you walked down the hallway and if you didn’t know better you’d say so did Francis.

Either way, nothing was going to stop you from petting Tama, Japan’s cat. He was an adorable little black and white feline with the cutest little bob for a tail. You had actually spotted him earlier and was about to go up to him before Monsieur literally jumped into your arms, demanding attention. Of course you weren’t going to say no so Tama quickly left your sight as you went to return Monsieur. 

Wait, isn't Monsieur just sir in French? Oh well there was no time to think about questionable cat names, this building was full of them.

Monsieur wasn’t the only attention whore of a cat. Prussia’s cat, Purrussia, wasn’t much better. He would follow you down hallways and meow with his scratchy meow at you while Austria’s cat, Allegro, whined behind him. He literally tried to jump up at you a few times.

Of course both of them were interrupted when Hero ran straight at you and tackled you like a professional linebacker. You had thought that it was mostly fluff, but no, apparently Hero could pack a punch. He knocked the wind out of you as you fell backwards onto the tiled floor. The cat sat proudly on you and looked around like he was waiting for something or someone. Whoever he was waiting for, however, wouldn’t show up fast enough to see Purrussia return the favor and tackle Hero off of you, much to Allegro’s horror. 

The white cat had a German ribbon as well but it looked like it was fraying at the edges. The reason you were bringing this up was because Hero was currently using one of the edges to try to choke Purrussia and Allegro was using the other to try to pull Purrussia away from Hero. Neither was really working and all it was really doing was making Purrussia more and more agitated.

“PURRUSSIA!!!” A shrill voice yelled out from down the hallway.

The cats stopped their roughhousing to see two of the countries barrelling down towards them. Well Prussia was. Austria was slowly walking over, looking more inconvenienced than anything else.

“Purrussia! Purrussia!” Prussia reiterated, pulling his cat up by its arms. “Did jou vin?!”

Everyone but the two Prussians stared in disbelief at his statement. The albino feline furiously nodded his head and if he could have talked you would have imagined that he would have been saying, ‘I’m awesome!’

Hero angrily meowed down below, as if to oppose Purrussia’s non-verbal statement. Allegro just haughtily licked his paw and stuck his nose up as if to pretend that he was disgusted with their fighting as if he hadn’t just been a part of it. Austria picked up his in-denial cat and you picked up Hero who calmed down as soon as you did. 

“Sorry about him.” You said, brushing his unruly fur down with your hand. “He gets a little competitive.”

“Ja. It’s fine.” Austria said, petting his own cat. “Purrussia is not much better.”

“HEY!” Prussia yelled. “My awesome Purrussia is doing his best! And besides, at least he actually does something!”

“Jour cat picked a fight vith a vall (wall) Gilbert.” Austria sassed.

“Vell jour cat’s piano playing is trash!”

Austria gave a gasp of horror before inching closer to the Prussian.

“Jou take zat back, RIGHT NOW!”

Prussia just laughed, still letting Purrussia’s back paws dangle as he held him like one would a toddler. He got in close to the Austrian’s face, smiling deviously at him.

“Nein.”

He suddenly, while still holding Purrussia, took off, running away from Austria. He wasn’t far behind though and you could hear the man yelling in German all the way down the far corridor.

“Well Hero.” You said, looking down at the cat who had made himself very comfortable. “That was weird.”

He just snuggled closer to you and you sighed. You scratched him once more before heading down the opposite hallway. The destination was clear, before you could continue your cat quest, you’d have to get this one safely back to its owner.

You suddenly snapped back to reality, still sitting on the wall. The sun was now high in the sky and the spot underneath you was no longer cold. You were especially warm as you now had a Scottish Fold sitting comfortably upon your lap. Quietly cooing at the cat, you looked to see if there was any way to escape your furry prison. The most important rule of cats: once a cat sits on you, you’re not moving until they do.

You sighed, legs uncomfortably stiff. Scone was far more content and his bushy tail occasionally brushed against your leg. It was incredibly cute but it didn’t make your back stop hurting from being hunched over for the last half hour.

Voices came from farther within the garden. There were two people currently engaged in a soft conversation. You caught bits and pieces of it; there was a man with a British accent and a man with what you thought was American until you heard him say ‘aboot.’ You couldn’t help but snicker at your own observation, disturbing Scone in the process.

He scornfully meowed at you and you offered pets in an apology. Around the corner turned Scone’s owner and a man who looked incredibly similar to America. They both turned to look at you when the Scottish Fold you were fondling stretched out to impossible lengths and complained like a cat while he did it. England looked down at your lap to see his cat very happily cushioned on your thighs. The man next to him was also holding a cat who again looked very similar to America’s.

They were clearly different though. This man’s hair was more auburn and his eyes were a shade of impossible purple. There was also more of a wave to it whereas America’s hair was as straight as hair comes. Familiarity lit up in your eyes, not for the man however.

“Maple!” You exclaimed, wanting to go to the cat but also not willing to disturb the one on you. “How have you been?”

The men stared at you, wondering if you were talking to them or the cat. Of course Maple himself answered this as he jumped out of his owner’s arms and darted over to you. He gracefully climbed up the small wall and placed himself down by you. Scone was on your lap and he was nicer than Hero so as to not push him off. You moved one of your arms to pet Maple and kept the other on Scone. They were so cute you felt like you were going to explode.

“Oh.” A quiet voice spoke out. It came from the man behind England. “You’re Alfred’s secretary right?”

You smiled and nodded at the man. “And I assume that means you’re Canada, right?”

He looked a tad taken aback before nodding himself. “Yeah…” He trailed off and England instead picked up the conversation.

“I thought you were supposed to be watching his furrball cat, Hero.” He walked over and leaned against the wall.

“I was. But then he and Boris got into a catfight… and then America and Russia got into a catfight.”

Canada laughed in the background but quickly covered it up. England stared at Scone, looking to see if there was anyway to get him off of you without being scratched himself. He had enough injuries, that should have scarred had he not been a country, from the cat. He shivered a bit, though also began to pet the feline, scratching his under the chin.

“That sounds like those two.”

You hummed in agreement, continuing your affections. Canada also came over to pet his own cat who ironically did smell like maple syrup. 

“Can I make you the villain of this story?” You asked England, gesturing to Scone. “I do actually have somewhere I need to be.”

“Oh I suppose I can assume that role.” He mused, carefully picking up his cat. He was not happy to be moved but England just shushed him.

Canada also picked up his cat who was slightly nicer about the whole thing. He fidgeted with Maple’s ear as he held him.

“I’m Matthew.” He said, carefully shifting Maple so he could put one arm out to shake your hand.

You finished the formal greeting. “I’m (Y/n).”

The other blonde butted in from the background. “I’m Arthur, love.”

“It’s very nice to formally meet both of you. Seeing you from across a meeting room doesn’t really count.” You smiled and gave a small pat to each of the feline’s heads. “Well I wasn’t kidding about needing to get somewhere. I really didn’t mean to get stopped as long as I did.” 

You playfully glared at the Scottish Fold sitting comfortably in his owner's arms. He promptly ignored you, instead turning around cutely. England apologized but you told him it was fine. You were at least 50% sure that Mr. Jones was probably still fighting with Russia. Those two really were like angry cats. You waved the two men off and went on your way to find out the answer to that question.

Instead of coming across two feuding superpowers, you came across two of the Asian nations’ cats. You had already met them both but this was the first time you were seeing them together. Tama was sitting up high on a shelf while China’s cat, Meowzedong, was angrily meowing at him from down below. Everytime he tried to climb up, Tama would use a paw and swipe a book or other object down at him.

You flinched as a very breakable, very expensive-looking, vase crashed down. It was this movement that alerted the two cats to your presence and Meowzedong wasted no time at all to come over to you and complain. Now you couldn’t exactly speak cat but you got the jist.

Bending down, you carefully picked up the cat. Meowzedong always had a weird clump of fur that looked almost like a ponytail that, no matter how much China cut it, always grew back. He yowled at you and pointed a furry paw in Tama’s direction. The other cat had already loafed on top of the high shelf and you looked at him, back at Meowzedong, back at Tama, and then back at Meowzedong again.

“I don’t know how tall you think I am but I’m not that tall.”

Meowzedong just narrowed his eyes and meowed at you again. You sighed, looking back at Tama. If he had a long enough tail to flick it at you he would’ve. Sensing the futility of his quest, Meowzedong instead spread himself out in your arms and if you didn’t know better you would have said that he was mocking Tama. And if you really didn’t know better you’d say that it was working and that the bobtail was getting more irritated by the second. The personifications might have had to act cordial but their cats had no such qualms.

Finally, Tama de-loafed himself and gracefully hopped down a few other layers before reaching the bottom. He gracefully walked over to you and sat on your foot… Well shoot. What were you supposed to do now?

So here you were, from one cat prison to the next. Standing in the middle of some random, out-of-the-way hallway because the nations’ cats were all attention-hogging, though very adorable, brats.

You didn’t know how much time had actually passed. There was no clock in the hallway, you didn’t wear a watch, and both of your hands were occupied so you couldn’t check your phone. As cute as they were, your legs felt like they were about to collapse in on themselves. You couldn’t even shift how you were standing because Tama had taken it upon himself to lay across both of your shoes. Your arms also felt like they were going to fall off at any second. Meowzedong wasn’t a particularly heavy cat but try holding anything over five pounds for longer than five minutes.

You were desperately hoping that either they would finally get bored and leave or someone would come to save you. Wow you guessed you really did need a “Hero” right about now… Dammit you thought that referencing needing a hero in your head would magically summon America or his equally hotheaded cat.

“Tama. Meowzedong.” You murmured. “Can you please get off?” You hoped to whatever god or gods were out there that they didn’t hear the desperation in your voice. Never show weakness to a cat.

The two cats made eye contact with each other for a moment and seemed to come to an agreement. Meowzedong stretched his body out before jumping onto the ground. Tama did the same but instead greeted Meowzedong when he landed.

It wouldn’t be an exaggeration if you said that you collapsed onto the wooden floor below. You quickly got up however as you didn’t want them to see it as another chance to sit on you. At least not right now. You pulled out your phone to see all of the messages and calls you missed. You had put it on silent while watching Hero and forgot to turn it back to vibrate.

‘Oh my god Mr. Jones called me twenty-three times.’ You thought, frantic. ‘I’m gonna be in so much trouble!’

You raced down the hallway, startling a group of micronations as you went. There was no time to apologize! You had to keep your job! If not for you then for the cats!

Not even thinking to knock you burst open the door where America was staying, side note why wasn’t it locked? And were greeted with the sight of!... Mr. Jones… crying? His cat looked pretty dejected too and was currently hanging himself off the side of the bed like a rug.

“Sir?” His head shot up to look at you.

He quickly snapped his head back away, mushing at his face in an attempt to try to make it seem like he wasn’t crying.

“(Y-Y/n)” He stuttered for a second, before immediately going back to the hero persona. “Where’ve you been!?”

“Are you okay?” You ignore him, instead asking your own question.

You titiled your body to look at what he was looking at… Was that a framed picture of you?!

It didn’t matter because he was very quickly all in your face again. You could see what seemed to be a rapidly healing black eye and a tooth that hadn’t fully regrown in yet as he smiled at you. Just how long was he fighting with Russia for?

You sat him down on his bed, considering if you should even bother getting a medkit for him. Either way you ended up spending the rest of the day with him, watching movies and sitting what you considered a good ways away from each other on the plush couch. He apparently had a nicer room in all of England’s properties from when he used to live there during parts of the year.

Hero filled the gap in-between you of which America was mildly annoyed about. He kept trying to get you to use ‘Alfred’ but you insisted that it was unprofessional. He’d close the gap one day.

[imaginethebeautifulworld]

So I was reading Phantom of the Opera and some of Erik's descriptions made me think so much of Gil! I remembered how amazing your Hades and Persephone fic was, and I was hoping you could do something with the Phantom too? Thanks so much!!!!

Hello, Anon! I absolutely adored Erik in the book, and now that I read your ask, I can easily see the similarities, too~ I grew up on a weird blend of the book, musical, and both the 2004 and Lon Chaney films; I tried to honor that blend in this a bit, but a majority was pulled from memories of the book. I hope you enjoy, and thank you for your patience~

The theatre was filled to bursting, the audience awed, riveted, mesmerized, your voice weaving an enchantment over hundreds of unsuspecting admirers.

He was proud of you.

Your voice reached him even in the highest and most of isolated rafters, a platform forgotten- abandoned- by the stagehands stationed several stories below. Your voice was full, carrying all of the strength and conviction and passion as the character you were playing.

Gone was the timid spirit he had stumbled upon all those years ago, broken and shattered from loss, left with only the protections of a then-aloof guardian and a firm, dispassionate teacher.

He was drawn to you from that first day, a twist of compassion, of understanding; in spite of your upbringing and (even then) impressive talent, you were still an outsider, your peers and the other students keeping their distance, leery of your background, and some envious even then.

Yes, the companionship and camaraderie would come in time, but in those first few months, he saw the same loneliness and sadness in you he'd once carried so heavily himself, and his heart ached to comfort you.

The first time he spoke to you was purely accidental, a slip of a whisper he prayed you would dismiss as a ghost, or mere imagination. He had grown too comfortable in answering you when you were alone, his voice always near silent as you spoke to your mother, your father, and sometimes the angels themselves.

It was the latter with which you had caught him, crying out with a broken heart after discovering another student had sabotaged your satin slippers, intent on seeing your failure, your embarrassment, and (as likely was the case with that particular little shrew) your dismissal from the school.

But you persevered, successfully completed your performance, never once showing your distress until you were away from the others. It was only then, hidden away in a forgotten practice room that you showed your anger, your sadness, your hopelessness. The mask had fallen, and he was once again struck by the beauty of the fractured soul he admired so deeply.

"Please," you whispered, and it broke his heart to hear it, "I feel so alone."

It ached, being unable to comfort you, seeing your progress and healing of the past few months tested so needlessly. He ached for you; he was angry for you.

"You are not alone."

It was a fleeting, foolish slip, his temper and his longing both getting the better of him. Your sudden silence choked his own breath, his entire body freezing in terror.

For a moment, for an eternity, there was naught but silence.

He didn't dare move, fearful of how even the slightest shift of fabric could give him away, could startle you, could-

"I was half-afraid I had gone mad, speaking with shadows and expecting them to finally reply."

You were... teasing him, only a little, though at the time he was still petrified that you would demand he reveal himself. You had moved closer to the false panel, studying it closely, seeking out any faults that might give away its secrets. For a moment, your eyes were perfectly level with his own, and he feared you could hear his heart racing in his chest.

But soon enough you had drawn away, crestfallen. "Perhaps I have gone mad," you murmured, sighing in defeat. "Perhaps the rumors are true, and you are nothing but a ghost."

Memories of his time spent serving in the court of a distant empire flickered to memory, a rueful sound resembling laughter slipped past his defenses. "Of the many things they may wish and claim me to be, dead is not yet among them."

Your focus once more returned to the panel, and he instinctively took a step back. "Please-" he began, quickly cutting himself off.

Where others would have pressed forward, you paused, then took several steps away from the wall, granting him his distance, a warm sense of appreciation, and another he couldn't name at the time, sparkling to the surface at the warm breath of relieved laughter you released soon after. "You- You're really there."

That moment, one he could still so clearly remember as the peripeteia, the decided, unexpected change to a familiar script, one which would set the trajectory of both of your lives for the next ten years. It would lead to many late nights spent in practice, in conversation, in debates about the literary characters you loved so dearly. "I am always here."

Your aria had drawn to a close, the spell broken by the deafening roar of the audience's applause, and Gilbert was pulled from his memories, unable to conceal his smile.

Brava, Schatz. Bravissima.

He stood to his full height and began to make his way towards the nearby ladder.

For your role, another scene yet remained- a joyful reunion between your character and the valiant hero following the defeat of the jealous villain, a happy end to a romance so riddled with tragedy.

Gilbert needn't see the ending; it was a tale as old as time.

His footsteps were silent and certain, following a path he could traverse in his sleep; he had already paced it many times in his dreams.

Of all the false doors he had constructed in his opera house, there was one he had yet to pass through, one which now loomed before him. The room beyond was bathed in the ethereal golden glow of candlelight, a world outside of the darkness, fueling even more of the torment already plaguing his mind.

He was haunted by his doubts, by his need to... His need to properly introduce himself.

You had risen so high, could fly even higher, could rise above anything the fools in this theatre could ever hope to imagine. With your voice, your grace, your elegance, and your perspicacity, he had no doubts you could soar to a realm where only angels once dare tread. Perhaps it was wrong to want to burden you, to-

Movement on the other side of the glass brought his thoughts once more to a standstill. You were laughing, carefree, glowing with happiness and a brilliant light which followed everyone through the corridors after a triumphant performance. His heart fluttered to see you so beautifully framed, a living portrait he yearned to touch.

He frowned at the thought.

These feelings...

He had cared for you when you first arrived, a deep friendship slowly growing, even as he never allowed you to glance upon him. Slowly, then almost in an erupting whirlwind, those feelings had adapted, deepened, solidified. He was left hoping, wishing...

You were an Angel, in the most benevolent, compassionate of ways, but even an Angel would surely shun a Devil's Child.

For that was what his eyes and his appearance had always been: that of a devil. And surely-

Another figure was entering the room, and you were quick to abandon the comfort of your velvet settee, rushing to embrace-

No.

You were laughing, falling into conversation with an ease that only came-

You were familiar with this... this boy.

Perhaps even intimate, his traitorous thoughts interfered, the herald to the invasive darkness which followed.

It was a cold, bitter thing, rising from the depths, twisting and corrupting his every breath.

He had been careless, allowing you your freedom, allowing you to slip away to the gilded sanctuary of your guardian's maison de ville.

This boy dared to presume he could even look upon you, let alone embrace you, speak with you so candidly, even addressing you by your given name-

Gilbert felt his rage, his envy, grow stronger, even as that bedamned Raoul finally departed for the evening, leaving your bright smile in his wake.

You often called Gilbert your "Angel of Music," a bringer of light to your once dreary and dark days. You used it affectionately, a term of endearment for one you saw as a companion, a compatriot in curiosity.

But much like his namesake, Gilbert was Fallen, cursed, a creature of shadows and Night.

It took so little to pull him back into the Darkness, and now, with the sting of envy plaguing his every thought, Avarice and Doubt whispering in his ear, his ambitions had changed.

You were his.

He would ensure no one else could dare claim you, would have the slightest chance at your heart.

With skill honed from years of practice, Gilbert silently slid open the trap door, his voice carrying over to you in a tone he himself barely recognized. "Insolent boy. The impertinence of him, sharing in our triumph."

You startled at his voice, turning to him instinctively, your eyes widening in disbelief, before you graced him with your brightest smile yet.

Your joy glittered with more radiance than any star in the heavens, but its glimmer eclipsed your awareness, obscuring the darkness in the figure stealing ever closer.

"Hello, Engel."

Thanks for reading!

Special shout-out to @the-scribe-and-her-scribbles for unwittingly inspiring me today to finally sit down and write. She's an amazing writer, and if you haven't checked it out already, I highly recommend her ongoing series It Will Come Back.

[erina-writes-headcanons]

I can ask for headcanons of the reaction of Spain, Germany, Austria, Hungary and Prussia, to the fact that Prussia adopted a girl who was a Latin nation that Spain conquered only because the amazing boy prussia seemed tender to her?

Antonio Fernández Carriedo (SPAIN), Ludwig Beilschmidt (GERMANY), Roderich Edelstein (AUSTRIA), Elizabeta Héderváry (HUNGARY), and  Gilbert Beilschmidt (PRUSSIA) REACTION TO PRUSSIA ADOPTED LATIN NATION FROM SPAIN

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A/N: Hey there @chiless. I hope you like the final result because if I had to be honest. I don't have any knowledge of Latin History and I have never written this kind of Headcannon.

Gender: Neutral

Warning: Profanities

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Antonio Fernández Carriedo - Spain

Poor Boy was jealous when his own buddy got all chummy with you, the personification of Latin because he was the one who had taken care of you.

The first time, he would not let Prussia get close to you because he believed he was capable more of taking care of you than him since he believes he has more capability (I mean he takes care of Romano).

But that doesn't mean he would not let his own best friend interact with you because once he sees how tender Prussia is with Latin. He realizes Prussia is reliable.

When the two of you bond better, he starts to trust Prussia more to take care of you because he sees how gentle and caring he is despite Prussia being very reckless.

Sometimes, he would let Prussia be your babysitter when he is really busy, especially when he is overworking to pay the debt (but still doesn't trust him completely).

He also remembers Prussia taking care of Ludwig when he was younger so he knows Prussia can be a great brother or caretaker for you.

However, if Prussia actually did mess up and if he sees any small injury. He would actually pick a fight with Prussia despite the two of them being buddies.

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Antonio could not believe his own eyes as he was running around to look for you, the personification of Latin. But let's recap what was happening before this happened. It was Saturday in the afternoon around 2 o'clock. Antonio has a stack of files given by his boss and it has to be finished today or he will get an even larger stack of files that need to be done.

He could not help but sigh before he crouched down right in front of Latin with a sad smile on his face. As the personification and the new country, you did not understand why your older brother looked as if he was sad but trying to smile for you "My dear Hermano (Sister/brother), I am sorry that I cannot play with you for today. The boss wants me to finish all of my job. You can play outside and play with Romano," he patted your head.

Of course, hearing this makes you a little bit sad because you could not hang out with your brother. He has been really busy lately and it is as if he has no time for you. "Okay, I will play with Romano," the little you nodded before running out of the room. But you know Romano can be mean, you don't really want to be yelled at by your brother Romano so you got out of the house to play outside.

Your little feet carry you to the wilderness where you can see all the small critters and insects and have a little adventure near the house. Nevertheless, you did not realize someone was spying on you. The person following you with a sword in their hand and a grin on his face, the old man getting closer and closer to you as your back facing the dangerous man.

Before the man could swing the sword to you, a scream could be heard but it doesn't sound familiar to you. It sounds rough and deep with the heavy laughter of 'Kesesese'. "Komm weg von dem kleinen Kind!(Get away from that little kid!) Or the avesome me going to kick jour ass!" The sound surprises you as you turn around.

A man with messy white hair, pale skin and a pair of red eyes like a ruby swung his sword at the man who was behind you. The older man quickly blocked his sword but it got yeeted away. The edge of your saviour's sword was pointed at the neck of the assassin who almost killed you. "Go avay from them/her/him," Prussia said. "....Finem you will regret this," the old man ran away,

Prussia then sheath his sword back with a smirk on his face, his hand gently tousling your hair. "Be careful next time, ja? Jou must be Latin, The avesome I am Prussia. Your brother's friend. Tell your brother vhat happened earlier. I'm sure he's looking for you."

Right after Prussia said those, you could hear your older brother's voice from far away and you turned around to see Spain with a worried face but it turned into a relief when he saw it was Prussia. "Ah Prussia, You found my younger sibling. Thank you so much for helping me find Latin. I was so worried," Spain trudges closer before his hand shaking with Prussia's hands. "It vas no problem. The avesome me will not let any danger get close to jour sibling."

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Ludwig Beilschmidt - Germany

At first time when he sees his older brother adopting a little country from Latin, he thinks the older brother would mess it up and it would be a bad idea because he thinks he would be a bad influence.

But he also remembers when he was younger, Prussia also had taken care of him despite Prussia being kind of a lunatic brother and sometimes endangering himself.

So he would actually volunteer to take care of Latin. Usually, he would be the one who also takes the hardest part since he is disciplined despite being awkward.

Secretly, he's proud when he sees Prussia being all soft and gentle around Latin. He knows even though Prussia is loud and obnoxious, Prussia is a caring person deep inside.

But would also scold his older brother when Prussia is being reckless, muttering to himself who is actually the older brother in the family.

Ludwig helps him by preparing the necessities he needs to adopt Latin by preparing all kinds of foods, cleaning supplies and other necessities.

His heart is melting though when he sees Latin being all giggly and having fun with Prussia. This is until Prussia tries to drag Latin into some trouble. Then he will try to stop them

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After the incident of the bad guy trying to assassinate you, the clothes were dirty from the dust and a little bit of blood since you had fallen when Prussia was blocking the guy. Seeing your condition, Prussia could not help but sigh loudly while wiping the sweat on his forehead away. "Thank God that guy is gone for good, Vho was he?" Prussia asks Spain. "I'm not sure but I think it's those humans that try to steal the country's power," Spain shrugs.

The certain albino could not help but sigh loudly at Antonio's answer because he could be right and the old man would go back at any time so they needed to go back. "Spain, since my place is near. Jou and jour little bruder (brother)/schwester(sister) can stay at my place for a bit. (Y/N) can vear my Bruder's old clothes. I still have many of them and the avesome me think it could be a great idea to hide (Y/N) in my place." "Sure, that will be a great idea. Can you take care of Latin for a while? I think it will be safe," Spain gently pats your head "Kesesese, you can trust me," Prussia winks.

‿︵‿︵＼ʕ •ᴥ•ʔ／︵‿︵‿Timeskip

A certain tall German man walked along the street and followed the light as the sky got darker. Twisting the doorknob open and pushing it away, he places the coat on the hanger as well as the hat before putting the shoes away. "Bruder, I'm back from the meeting," It was the younger brother of Prussia who had just gotten back from the world meeting.

As he turns around, he sees a little kid in the living room with his old clothes when he was younger. He could not believe his own eyes of what he just saw right now, his eyes blinking repeatedly before he rubbed his eyes with his hands. 'A little kid in this house. Don't tell me my dummkopf Bruder had knocked up some woman and made me take care of this kid,' His face went cold as this thought swarmed inside of him.

He was going to take a deep breath and call Gilbert but he could hear the sound of Gilbird chirping nearby and Prussia with all of his glory, came from the kitchen with a half-eaten toast in his hand. "Kesesese, my bruder just got home! And jou meet the avesome latin!"Prussia exclaimed as he put the toast away. "Bruder! Don't tell me you kidnapped Spain's bruder /schwester! Spain is going to be mad!" Germany glares at his older brother. "Nein!!! I did not kidnap Latin at all! An unavesome old man vas going to kill him/her/them and zhe avesome me kick the old man ass!" Prussia explains quickly

Hearing his explanation made Ludwig's face even colder as his eyes widened and his face turned slightly blue. Nevertheless, it was gone in a second before he took a deep breath and massaged the bridge of his nose. "So let me get this straight. Someone tried to kill Spain's sibling and jou saved this kid?" Ludwig asks. "Ja, and Spain vitnessed it if you don't believe me," Prussia stuck his tongue out. "Vell it does sound make sense vhen it doesn't come from you. But since you said Spain saw the incident. I vill ask him about it and I think it's better ve buy some clothes and some foods for Latin," Germany said.

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Roderich Edelstein - Austria

Another guy who also doesn't trust Prussia around children, he thinks Prussia is dangerous, loud, and could not take care of himself, especially children.

As a result, he would always worry about Latin's condition when he was around Prussia because he didn't want Latin to grow up to be like him.

Even if Spain tries to convince him that he can trust Prussia. he would not believe him until he could see it with his own eyes when Prussia was tender and caring towards Latin.

Just like Germany, he would also volunteer to take care of Latin because he thinks Prussia could not take care of a country even though he knows that Prussia did take care of Germany

Unlike Germany, he just hopes that Prussia won't endanger you or drag you to cause trouble because he knows Prussia tends to be irresponsible, especially when he is drunk.

With the help of Hungary, he would also take care of Latin when Prussia was not around. He would also teach Latin how to play music just like him (but fails because we know Latin probably plays guitar from Spain).

He does know Prussia has a soft spot for a tiny country like you but he also remembers Prussia is a country that has disappeared so one day he hopes once he is gone. You won't be too brokenhearted.

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The news that Prussia would take care of Latin after saving the little country from a bad guy spread fast after Ludwig told Hungary and Austria about it. No one believed it and as a result, a certain pianist player wanted to see you by himself to confirm that Ludwig was right about Prussia taking care of Latin.

After a long hour of driving, the door of Ludwig's house busted open with Roderich standing there. His eyes immediately went to Ludwig who was sighing in annoyance, knowing he had to repair that door again after Italy and Prussia often burst them open unlike how normal people act. "Is it true, your brother adopting Latin?" Austria asks Germany. "Ja, jou did not read my message vrong. My bruder is taking care of Latin,"

Austria sat on one of the couches, crowing his arms together, eyebrows furrowed before he looked at him in a serious tone. "May I speak with Prussia alone?" Austria asks Germany "Ya, he is in his room and working out. I vill be calling him," Germany stood up and strutted downstairs, going to Prussia's bedroom to tell him that there's Austria and he wants to talk with him.

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The air between Gilbert and Roderich was intense but in an unusual way like when Gilbert annoys him just for shits and giggles. Roderich's pulse raced as he got the question, his voice quivering slightly as he asked Gilbert if the story included any of the truth. "Is it true, Prussia? Did you really save that kid from the bad man?" "Ja, it's true, I swooped in and rescued the little one from that stranger," Prussia's tone laced confidently. "Are you planning to take in the little kid, Gilbert?" Roderich questioned, his tone tinted with curiosity as he saw the toddler playing close.

Gilbert scratched his head, thinking about the question for a time. "vell, I haven't really thought about it," he said, his brow furrowing in thought. "But Latin could use a stable home, I guess." Roderich groaned and shook his head, exasperated. "You can't just suppose when it comes to raising a child, Gilbert," he reminded. "You'll need to buy necessities - education, clothes, food, and so much more."

Gilbert's face softened as he understood the seriousness of the issue. "Jou are right, Austria. It's been a long time since I had to care for someone so young. I'll have to work things out. He cast another gaze at the child, overcome in his eyes. "But I'll do whatever it takes to give Latin the best life possible."

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Elizabeta Héderváry - Hungary

She thinks you are the most adorable country after Italy and the most precious thing in the world that must be protected at all costs so she would be your other sittter.

Very surprised when she knows that Prussia is taking care of you and being brotherly around you because she thinks Prussia is too reckless and couldn't even take care of a baby.

Always tries to hit Prussia with her pan if she even sees any small injuries on you, even If it was not Prussia's fault and blames him for not taking care of you properly.

Always tries to steal you away from Prussia and become your guardian instead of him. Even if she knows Prussia took care of Germany when he was younger, she still doesn't trust him.

Tries to bribe you too so she would be your favourite guardian instead of Prussia, especially bribing you with Hungarian or Austrian sweets (by asking Roderich).

Only trust Prussia to take care of you when there is Germany because she knows Prussia is going to drag you into some trouble and teach you bad things.

Sadly, you cannot change her mind, unlike Austria and Spain even if Prussia proves to her that he can take care of you but at least you got double sweets from her and from Prussia.

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As Prussia and Austria thought about Latin's future, their talk was unexpectedly interrupted by Hungary's powerful entry, her presence instilling dread in Prussia's heart as her eyes drilled into him with a stare that could freeze fire. She wore a long green dress with a flawless white apron and a floral hairclip on her head, and she held a pan with a no-nonsense demeanour.

Prussia was caught off guard and swore under his breath in German, his look reflecting his worry at the imminent rebuke from Hungary, while Austria gazed on, a mixture of concern and amusement playing over his features. Oh, Scheiße, vhy is Hungary pissed at me?" Prussia asks Austria "I'm not sure but maybe it's about the kid" Austria sensed the reason why she acts like this.

Hungary marched towards Gilbert, her determination apparent demanding answers with fierce passion. "Did you kidnap Latin from Spain?" she questioned, her voice full of scepticism Prussia's decline was quick and clear. "No! I would never do such a thing! "I simply saved her from a dangerous situation," he stated, his palms lifted in an innocent gesture.

‿︵‿︵＼ʕ •ᴥ•ʔ／︵‿︵‿Timeskip

Hungary's demeanour softened as she dropped her pan, her doubts eased by (Y/N)'s explanation. She sighed and sat down next to Roderich, her eyes fixed on Prussia. "Alright," she said, her tone stern yet interested. "Explain everything. How did you manage to adopt Latin?"

Prussia took a deep breath before describing the events that led to Latin's adoption. With Roderich's help, he described his meeting with the dangerous man endangering the developing nation, as well as his later choice to provide them safety. Hungary listened closely as he talked, her attitude changing from suspicion to understanding. By the end of his explanation, she had nodded thoughtfully, realising the seriousness of the situation and the need of Prussia's actions.

Elizaveta sighed with relief after she listened to Prussia's explanation, her heart warmed by the severity of the situation. She rose to her feet and smiled gently, her glance expressing an understated pledge of support. "I'll help you," she answered simply, her voice bearing a calm determination. "We'll gather everything Latin needs."

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Gilbert Beilschmidt - Prussia

Doesn't expect he will actually adopt Latin because he doesn't really believe that he is capable of taking care of a smaller nation or himself, his younger brother always helps around taking care of him.

He does remember that he did take care of Germany when he was younger but that's only it. After he stops becoming a country, it's Germany who has taken care of him.

Afraid to mess up, he would often call Spain to help him around but he also helped Spain take care of Latin when he had free time, sometimes asking his brother's help too.

Tries his best not to curse around because he doesn't want Latin to take his negative habits by swearing and drinking until drunk. So he puts all of his beer on the highest cupboard and always tries to censor himself around you.

Tries to be the best big brother for you. Always teach you how to play swords because he used to be a Teutonic knight in the past but used a wooden sword so you would not get hurt.

Becoming your partner in crime. For example, if Germany doesn't let you each chocolate cake. He will secretly slip some cakes for you because he feels bad when you have sad puppy eyes and beg Germany for some sweets.

Also, tries to spend his time a lot together with you when he has free items and when you are bored. Sometimes, would purposely loose for you so you could be happy.

Ⰶ║ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ║Ⰶ

As the sun poured its golden beams across the peaceful Saturday morning, Spain softly handed over Latin to Prussia and Germany, his face remorseful as he explained his absence in a quick text message. With a hard schedule and upcoming meetings, he reluctantly surrendered Latin's care to his brother nations, a sense of duty resting heavily on his shoulders. And as he wished them farewell, vowing to return soon.

Mi Amigo(My friend) . I am very sorry but today the meeting is very hectic and I have lots of files given by my boss. Today, I cannot take care of Latin so I hope you can take care of Latin for me. That was the message Spain had given to Prussia as the Albino read the text message and Latin who was sitting in the living room.

Prussia went silent for a minute, his mind drifting, and then a cheeky smile appeared on his face, followed by his signature "Kesesese" giggle. His eyes focused on the young Latin, recalling his brother's fondness for baking. "Hey, are you hungry?" he said, his tone playful yet warm to the younger nation "I have a delicious chocolate cake waiting for you."

The young nation's ears perked up at the mention of cake, excitement evident in her nod. Prussia leaned in closer, whispering, "Follow me," before leading the way to the kitchen with Latin in tow. As he swung open the fridge door, a smirk played on his lips. "You must be hungry," he remarked, his tone was secretive.

"I have chocolate cakes for us." With ease, he cut two large slices, one for Latin and one for himself. With a delighted grin, he returned the cake to its proper spot in the fridge, ready to enjoy the stolen cake. After serving the cake, he would eat the cake together with Latin without Germany knowing them.

Once they finished their cake, Prussia put his finger to his lips, signalling for silence, and whispered to (Y/N), "Don't tell anyone we had chocolate cake, okay? If you keep it a secret, we can play with Berlitz, Aster, and Blackie all day. Then, we can watch some cartoons." (Y/N) nodded eagerly, agreeing to the plan. As Prussia collected the plates and washed the dirty dishes to hide any evidence, (Y/N) watched on, excited for the day ahead.

Ⰶ║ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ║Ⰶ

❀

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[wabatle]

OMG I love that you write for Hetalia! Can you write something about Prussia? What sort of big brother would he be to a lil sister? Bossy? Loving? Mean? Tysm!!

YES I WRITE FOR HETALIA

guys send me hetalia requests i'll write it 🫶

☆~Prussia as a big brother

(wa)batle nonsense (author's note):

Prussia is my favorite character and HE IS AWESOME!! (you can tell because of the gif in my pinned post, wink wink)

also he may be ooc but...uhhh

Warnings: none

We already know how he is with Germany, so…

He's quite the embarrassment if you let him be

He's also overprotective, and anyone you would want to date has to go through him

He also wants to make sure you're safe all the time

He knows how to comfort you if you're scared or upset, because he's funny and he knows it

As good as all that sounds, he's also Prussia, and he's very egotistical

So he'll be like “I am awesome Prussia and here is my slightly less awesome sister, (name)!”

Don't worry though, Germany is right there with you in trying to deal with your older brother's shenanigans.

[mxlovinovargas]

TREMENDOUS DYNAMITE — PRUSSIA x READER

Synopsis: He's after you.

Tremendous Dynamite

CW: Stalking, Predator-Prey Scenario, Obsessive Thoughts, Obsessive Behavior, Creepy Behavior, Uncomfortable Scenario, Use of Country Names, Reader-Insert.

Word Count: .800

I am El Hombre Lobo. 

But you?

You were something that made Prussia quack in his very wake, like a sick puppy staring into the mouth of a deadly disease that wanted to open its maw and swallow whole, like there was a blade chopping down and his head would roll. You were a force—something beautiful and something clean, dirtied only by the blood on your knuckles and the skin of your teeth that glistened with the sweat from a battle. Prussia always turned his head whenever you walked into the room. 

Nothing short of a thrusting storm, of a hurricane carrying the ichor of the sea ready to sweep him off of his feet; like the day dips into the horizon, and Prussia was on the prowl for a restless night. 

He dodged behind the crevice of two tightly pressed together business buildings, unimportant and his only source of shelter, as he staked you out like a cat hunts a mouse. You walked so boldly, so sure even in the dead of the night and Prussia felt the rhythm of his head pound away like parade drums in his head. The spin of color guard flags, the sound they make as fabric pulls taut and flaps, the way the wind blows through them. The trumpets on high, the tuba on low—of screeching flutes and humming trombones, Prussia hears the whole damn thing playing in his frustrated head and he grimaces thickly. This was a game Prussia was messing with that he knew could end in explosions galore that shatter through his very soul to send him running for the hills to never be seen again (messing with you was always like that), but he’s got a fuse that he can light. He flicks the flame of a match, shh chaaa, and red spindles flicker like seeding fireweed. 

She’s tremendous, she’s dynamite—

Prussia steps out into the limelight, doused by pale yellow from dinky old street lamps that don't offer much but enough to cast deep shadows across his grim face. The shadows dance for a brief moment as he moves forward, following following following, as Prussia trails after your retreating form. You don't notice. 

Or, at least, Prussia thinks you don't notice. 

His first footfall makes an echoing clap that resounds off of the wall, reverberates like bubblegum and glue, and clings to the shell of his ear like a formidable gunshot. Then, you run. Prussia splutters like a dying lemon’s transmission before he sprints forward like his life depended on it. He grits his teeth so harshly that they make a terrible squeak in his mouth as he balls his fists and chops his arms to the pace of his running feet. He should have expected nothing less! The grit turns into a halfhearted smirk. Oil spills of maroon and violet eat up your form as Prussia stares, watches your every move and every turn. He twists his body to follow after you. You are one helluva little opponent—Prussia knew it wouldn't be this easy. 

She could put up a hard-won fight. 

You’re so clever. If Prussia didn’t know these streets like the back of his hand, he would have definitely lost you by now; fortunately, for the dastardly man chasing after you, he did and he was gaining on you fast. Your head might be screwed on real tight, but there's only some many bobs and weaves you can do until—

until you're at a dead end. 

And this, this truly is your birthright. 

Tremendous dynamite you may be, but every explosion has its smoke and mirrors before it evanescences and then disappears in the fade of char and misery. 

I am El Hombre Lobo, Prussia thinks to himself as he stands so tall and so looming behind you, in front of you, before you. He traps off your escape and he can see your shoulders heaving. He stalks forward, leering with those schmears of red and purple looking so insanely pleased and victorious. Prussia takes in all you have to offer, basking in it so appraisingly and so willingly and so greedily and so needily. He can't help but feel giddy, can't help but feel the sparks of electricity in the tips of his fingers as he draws near. The way your shoulders pinch, the way your breath seems to hitch in fear at each of Prussia's footsteps. The heels of his boot click like a bomb by the second and he's so close that if he opened his mouth to breathe you in, he would taste you too. 

On the prowl, Prussia comes, and then he sees you turn so demurely that it feels like slow music and he can hear the band in his head go into a slow rocky jazz that leaves a one-two riff strumming in his aching eardrums. It’s past midnight. You turn around fully. And Prussia’s dartin’ under the town’s searchlight as he closes in totally. 

But it’s all worth it to take a bite. 

You're tremendous, you’re dynamite.

[poopysunshine]

I have a little writing prompt for you, since I know with my magic that you're taking requests (you do not know me I am a stranger)! reader finds aph prussia drinking alone sadly at a bar, and sits down next to him. reader comforts him and asks him to tell stories about his greatest triumphs to cheer him up

Prussia is not usually this sad. It is quite typical for the nation to stuff such things down with compensation. It is when you sit next to him, and question him about what has got him down with a hand to his shoulder that his night starts to turn around. He actually opens up about his crippling loneliness and alcoholism after his fall. All the while, you listen and offer companionship. He is starting to brighten up, thanks to you. Then you ask about what greatness he has achieved, and he collapses into sobs.

[hotboy-hottub]

Pov u look across the bar 2 see babygirl

[theyanderespecialist]

Base Yandere Prussia Headcanons: His Awesome Darling

[Hello My Sexy Muffins, I am back with another chapter in this chapter Prussia as a yandere. Anyways I hope that you all enjoy this chapter here, sexy muffins!]

-Disclaimer: Prussia from Hetalia is not what people from the fallen Prussia area are. So the people who are descendants of Prussia are not yandere this is fiction and it is not how real people really are. Remember to separate fiction from Reality.

Prussia is not a yandere in canon this is just for fun and not to be taken seriously. Yanderes are not ideal partners to have. You can simp for them in fiction but please separate fiction from reality.-

.Prussia is a fun-loving and the most "Awesome" Country.

.He is no longer a country but more so east berlin.

.He has times where he has been very sweet

.He also has a history of being religious and knows when he has crossed a line.

.He also feels shame if he makes you feel uncomfortable as though he is in the bad touch trio.

.He would never force someone into something like that.

.He is a gentleman, he might be a bit annoying but he is super sweet to you.

.As a yandere he is super possessive.

.He has lost almost everything so he would be very likely to use his free time obsessing over you.

.He would be the type to stalk you.

.Also breaking into your home and going through your things.

.Considering stealing your underwear, but in the end, he decides not to, though he was tempted.

.He would put cameras in your home but not in your bathroom.

.He is a protective yandere as well.

.As he once was a knight country he is very much your knight in shining armor type of yandere.

.Willing to put his life on the line for you, even if it may be his last days

.Being a shield yandere he will die for you and do whatever it takes to keep you safe.

.You would be his awesome darling.

.Considering himself to be the only one awesome enough to be with you.

.A little bit of a clingy yandere and when drunk he would be Clingy, EVEN MORE SO.

.He would deal with rivals taking them out like he has nothing to lose.

.You are the only thing he really has not, he is not letting you go. Ever.

.He confesses to you most likely drunk being super clingy and telling you how much he loves you and how awesome you are.

.If you say yes this is the most awesome day of his life and he cannot wait to make you his spouse.

.If you say no he is bummed out for a few months, but then tries again, he has waited so long for someone to love he is NOT giving up.

.He will have you no matter what.

.You will be his Awesome Darling, and that is that.

[OOF I hope you all enjoyed this chapter and stay sexy my muffins!]

[the-scribe-and-her-scribbles]

iwcb | chapter 13. how to run from your problems

it will come back | chapter 13. how to run from your problems | fae!prussia x reader

'it will come back' masterlist and summary

chapter summary: oh no...

word count: 3.5k

chapter warnings: poisoning, mental distress, slight!suicidal thoughts (more for spite than anything)

@jtownraindancer, @redrosesociety1, @xxruinaxx

chapter 13. how to run from your problems

There’s a reason 13 is an unlucky number.

You whirl around the corner as your mirror image passes by. The illusion dissipates as you take its place, falling into step as if you had never been gone in the first place. He still leads you along the sides of the halls, and when the two of you turn into a smaller wing of the castle, nearing the kitchen, he stops abruptly as his name is called. 

“Georgi? Who is it you have there?” A voice calls, clouded by a heavy accent. 

He stiffens and turns. “No one, M’lord. Just a traveler asking for a night’s hospitality.”

The hair on the back of your neck stands up as your gaze settles upon the face in front of you. All of the things that Gilbert and others had told you were correct. Vladimir Popescu was a strange man. 

He was a fae of average height, with a thin, wisp-like frame. Vladimir was dressed in a black shirt and pants, with a red coat buttoned all the way up and a bowler hat on his strawberry blond head. His eyes are red, but not like cranberries or wine. His eyes are so red, they’re almost pink, with slits for pupils like a cat. They unnerve you. 

Vladimir tilts his head as he studies your disheveled disguise. 

“But of course,” he says, an impish smile on his lips. “My home is far removed from any city or town, I’m sure she’s had a trying journey.” 

“Oh course, sir. I’m just delivering her to the staff's rooms for some dinner. I didn’t mean to disturb-” Georgi says to his master, but Vladimir cuts him off.

“Nonsense! I’m just about to sit down to my own meal,” he all but purrs. “Why don’t you join me, my lady?” His awful red eyes focus intently on you. 

“Oh!” You clear your throat. “I could never, M’lord. I would hate to inconvenience you.” You turn your gaze to the stone floors in a play at bashfulness or respect. Anxiety pools in your stomach, heavy and persistent. He knows! He knows! 

“Please, my dear. I insist!” With a wave of his gloved hand, you are pulled along behind him, forced to follow as he glides down the large gothic hallway. You’re feet stumble and slide as you try to slow yourself down, without success. 

Double doors push open on their own, and Vladimir enters the grand dining room where he deposits you. You manage to catch yourself as you’re freed, but before you can think about turning around and escaping, the doors shut with an echoing sound behind you. 

Vladimir takes a couple more strides toward the expansive table before turning back to you.

“Why don’t you take a seat?”

The two of you watch each other, tension filling the space between. Both of you wait to see which one will break, who will admit that they are only waiting for the other to reveal what the other knows. Your eyes scan the rest of the room and you take a seat. The middle of the long table is filled with food. A roasted bird sits on a bed of what looks to be carrots and onions. Delicious-looking vegetables sit next to it and a bottle of red wine and two glasses are set out. 

Oh, fuck it. You could use a drink. 

You settle into the ornate wooden chair and look across at Vladimir. Your host doesn’t look at you, choosing to fork food from the centre platters onto his plate.

The wine is bitter-sweet on your tongue. It's smooth, and quite delicious as far as alcohol goes. If you weren’t in such a tense situation you might’ve enjoyed the drink. You glance at Vladimir and try to keep a calm demeanour. This is hard because he’s begun to smile. 

His sharp fangs peek through red-stained lips. The smirk is gleeful, and he’s watching you in a way that makes ice collect in your arteries like he’s expecting something to happen and he can’t wait until it does. 

Something’s not right. 

Vladimir swirls the wine around the sides of his goblet. The gesture is subtle, to anyone it could be inconsequential, but it lights a blazing trail in your mind. You look down at your wine glass. Its colour is a familiar, horrifying red. Your eyes shoot to the table. There, right in front of you is the wine bottle, made of dark green glass with a label tied to its neck like a collar. The wine label shows an illustration of red berries hanging on a bare, thorny bush.

Spirit Berries. The wine was made from Spirit Berries. 

With the realization that’s probably dawning on your face, your host starts laughing. 

“Lukas had told me you were so clever,” he laughs. “but I guess you aren’t clever enough huh?”

You go to speak but can’t. Instead, you crumple over in your chair. Debilitating pain flares through your stomach and something bubbles up into your mouth. It’s the tangy taste of iron, and when you look down onto the cold stone floor below you, you see drops of the dark-red leak from your mouth. You scream out. Your hands go cold and numb, and the pain worsens. 

“I wonder if this will put me in his good graces?” Vladimir wonders aloud. His wood chair slides across the stone. As you crumple onto the floor beside your chair, you watch as he strolls around the large dining table. “Do you think Gilbert would lessen his wrath if I give him back his precious human, wrapped pretty and unable to leave him as she planned? Or maybe I should keep you? I wonder what Gilbert would give me in return for you?”

Pain shoots through you again and you cry out. You lift your head to look at him and take a deep breath. The hilt of Gilbert’s dagger is cool under your fingers. You watch as Vladimir walks closer before your eyes catch a glimpse of something metallic from the centre of the table. One clammy hand grips the edge of your chair and pushes you up. You heave with the effort it takes to keep yourself standing, but the pain is worth it because you see what you’ve come to this god-forsaken castle from. 

Hidden under the lush spread of food, is an ornate great sword, a polished steel blade and a silver cross-guard in the shape of eagle wings. It’s Ausdaurnd. 

Your eyes flick back to Vladimir, who has finally reached you. He leans in close, his slitted eyes glowing magenta. You tighten your hold on the dagger hidden in your robes. His gloved hand catches you by the throat and you choke out a surprised gasp. He pulls you into him, his breath fanning over you and he whispers, “Let's find out, shall we?” before he grunts in sudden pain. He chokes on his breath and looks down to see your hand, plunging your knife into his stomach. 

“Fuck you,” you snarl through your pain. 

As you stumble past where Vladimir kneels, injured on the ground, you grab the sword, clutching the red and black hilt in your hand and making a break for the large doors. Vladimir laughs as you do. The sound is dark and terrible. His cackles shake the very foundations of the castle. 

“Well done!” He calls, as he pushed himself to stand, his hand removing itself from where he was clutching his stab wound, now healed as if it had never happened. “You’re going to make this more fun than I thought!” 

Darlin', don't you, stand there watching, won't you

Come and save me from it.

With the sword clutched in your hands, you stumble through the hallway. The hard soles of Vladimir’s boots tap on the floor, following behind you at a leisurely pace. Even with the pain shooting through you from the spirit berries, a thought crosses your mind that worries you. 

“Where are you?” He calls. You press your hand over your mouth and grip the sword in your other. You hear Vladimir’s footsteps walk past, and dart behind another column. 

“Whatever charm hides you from my magic won’t keep you safe for long. This is my castle, and I will find you eventually.” 

Vladimir doesn’t seem too worried about you having the sword. He’s as calm as he was during dinner, amused even. His laugh bounces off the stone walls. 

“I knew you would come for that sword eventually, no doubt to try and your mate’s powers,” he sings. “Silly thing! Gilbert doesn’t need that toy to restore his powers. He was restored the moment he found you. I mean, don’t be mistaken! It’s a powerful magical weapon, Gilbert was right to go to such lengths to get it back, but putting his soulmate in danger to get it? I mean-”

That word rings out into the air. Soulmate. Soulmate. Your heart stops. ”What the fuck are you talking about?” You gasp. Your voice bounces through the vast hallway before you can think to catch yourself. 

“Oh, that’s right! You think you just fell into Gilbert’s prison on accident.” 

Your mouth feels like there’s cotton in it, and you don’t know if that’s because you’ve been poisoned, or the result of what Vladimir is about to tell you. 

“It’s half true,” Vladimir continues, as you make another dash behind another column. Popescu Castle’s main staircase is just in front of you, along with your exit. “You did fall through the veil, well …” he pauses to tap his fingers on his mouth in fake pensiveness. “Maybe ‘pulled’ is a better choice of word.” 

You think you’re going to be sick. Your head swirls. “You’re-!”

In a puff of black smoke, Vladimir appears behind you. “Remember, pet! My kind can’t speak anything but the truth!” 

You gasp and scramble back as he reaches for you. Without thinking, you swing Ausdaurnd in a wide arc toward him. The sword hums in your hands, but before it can hit its mark, Vladimir vanishes again, and you take your chance to escape. 

You rush down the marble steps of the grand staircase. You try to put together all that Vladimir has told you, your breath quickening as you begin to understand. 

“I mean, come on now! Humans rarely ever stumble into the Veil. Do you know what’s more likely? A Fae stumbling upon their soulmate and deciding to keep them.”

With the taste of spirit berry wine in your mouth and a sinking feeling in your gut, you make it to the large front door, push it open and run out of the castle. Outside, the air is cold, and it bites at your tear-stained cheeks.

Darlin', 

don't you, 

join in, you're supposed to

Drag me away from it

The original plan was to meet Gilbert back where you left him, but with what’s been revealed, you can’t do that. Without knowing how far behind you your pursuers is, and with no real plan of what to do next, you just run. As you do, the three facts that have just been revealed to you repeat in your mind like flashing lights. 

The first fact is that you and Gilbert are soulmates. The second is that Gilbert kidnapped you and trapped you in the Unseen World because of this.

What Vladimir had said played on a loop in your mind, mocking you. “Silly thing! Gilbert doesn’t need that toy to restore his powers. He was restored the moment he found you.” The third fact, which you’ve now managed to piece together, is that Gilbert had always been able to send you back home, but didn’t. 

The truth had been so close. You had asked so many questions, but never the right ones. You asked Gilbert how you were pulled into the Unseen World, but never who did it. 

When you asked about the soulmate spell, you had never put the pieces together. Gilbert was locked away for 75 years and had done his spell a couple of years before that. Of course, it came up blank, you wouldn't have been born yet, and you never thought to ask if that was the last time he’s performed the spell. 

Even in his prison when you first met him, when he kissed you to escape, he’d made a joke about true love’s kiss. In a way it was. It was the magic that the fae was granted from their soulmates. 

You think of what he promised you after the two of you crawled from the frosty lake and found refuge in his abandoned castle. That he wouldn’t hurt you, that he wouldn’t let anyone try. 

He had rushed into the room to save you from Lukas, he had protected you, he held your face in his hands and kissed you like he was starved. He begged you to stay with him, despite being the reason you were trapped in the first place. 

Despite knowing that you wanted to go home, to return to your family and life, Gilbert had endeared himself to you anyway, and that betrayal is what hurts more that the Spirit Berry wine. 

Sobs escape your throat as you continue running. The pain that fills you, from the spirit berries that burn your insides or from the crushing feeling in your chest, is debilitating. You can’t stop the feeling, and you can’t stop the tears that spill down your face in rivets. 

Without the option of returning to the woods, you are left to run down the rocky terrain that surrounds the castle. You need a heading right now. You can’t run without purpose or direction forever and now need to get to safety. 

Behind you, you hear something snap, and see the familiar black smoke of Vladimir’s magic begin you. There is a river, just ahead, that will start to flow down the slopes of the mountains and into the Wandering Woods. You remember the map that hung in Ludwig’s cabin when you first met. (God, had Ludwig known that you were Gilbert’s soulmate all along?). Most of the towns in the Woods were built along the rivers. If you follow the rapids, you’d no doubt find a town to hide in. 

You hurry forward, sliding and stumbling down the rocky slope towards the sound of rushing water. Behind you, another familiar voice calls. 

Taste my disaster

It's heavy on my tongue

It’s Gilbert. He yells from behind you, about forty feet back, and when he does, your stomach lurches. “Maus! Stop! What’s-”

A cruel laugh starts in front of you and Vladimir appears out of nowhere. “Oh yes, Maus!” he mocks you. “Where do you think you're going?”

He grabs you by the back of your neck and pulls you into him grinning. His grip is hard and painful, and you squirm and cry out sharply as Gilbert yells, “No!”

His sword, which you had been holding onto tightly since you fled the castle, scatters onto the ground as Vladimir leans in. You can feel his breath against your cheek. 

“Why don’t we tell Gilbert what we just learned?” He sings, before throwing you to the ground away. You scrape against the hard ground and he laughs, Gilbert finally stopping in front. 

Now, the three of you stand in front of each other, at the edge of a cliff that drops rapidly toward the cold, white river below. You can hear the roar of the torrent as it races further down the mountain. 

Your chest heaves and you force yourself to stand, and your eyes find Gilbert almost immediately. Your face heats up and it stings behind your eyes. Gilbert glares at Vlad.

“What did you tell her, huh? Get away from her!” Vladimir only vanishes in a puff of smoke. His chuckle rings through the air, detached from his form. 

“Now, don’t get angry,” he mocks. Gilbert spins around to find where he went. “She was bound to find out eventually, Gil.”

“Maus, listen to me-”

“Is it true?” you bite out. “Were you the one that brought me here?”

He looks at you for a moment. His red eyes aren’t as bright now, more of a wine shade. “Yes, I was.”

“After we escaped the Library, could you have sent me back?” Gilbert goes to open his mouth, but you interrupt. “Did you or did you not have the ability to send me back to the mortal world?” 

“I did,” he admits. 

“Were you ever planning on letting me go?” Your voice is scratchy and high-pitched from distress. You rip the dagger -the one he gifted you- from its sheath at your hip. 

He reaches out to you. Gilbert’s chest aches when he sees you, floundering in front of him. He comes closer to try and soothe you. Something sick and desperate settles in your stomach. “Liebe, please. Give me the-” 

“Don’t step any closer!’ You press the knife to your own throat. You can't kill him, but he needs you. You're his soulmate. 

Gilbert freezes on the spot. “Don’t be stupid, schatz,” he says softly. “Put it down. This isn’t you. I know you.” 

No, you don’t! You want to shriek. But he’s right. He knew you. Before you fell into this wretched world. He found you. He learned about you. He stole you away. And he lied to you, at least you were right about that part. Your hunch was right.

Pity, it didn’t make you feel any better. 

“Please, just give me the knife. You don’t want to die, do you?”

From the moment you met him, he had tricked you. He pulled you down to him, determined to use you for the power being his soulmate would give him. You were a power-up that he needed to keep, your wishes, your safety be damned. 

“You need me, don’t you, Gilbert?” you ask, your voice hoarse and cold. 

Gilbert nods, panicked and desperate as he watches you step further toward the edge. “I do, Maus, I do! More than you could possibly know,” he yells. He has to speak the truth. “I need you! Please don’t do this, please!”

Out of spite, you want to plunge the dagger into your neck. You’ll die, and he will lose the soulmate he tried to trap here. It would be revenge. You’d be able to hurt him the way you hurt right now. But you don’t think you have it in you. 

You look at Gilbert, really look. He’s standing 10 feet from you, crouched and reaching out. Your heart throbs. Did he ever feel guilt knowing he was the one standing in the way for your life and loved ones? Did he think of ways he could coax you to remain by his side? If Vladimir hadn’t already done so, would he have forced those spirit berries down your throat himself? 

Vladimir is still there, watching the scene as a spider watches a fly in their web. He’s even smiling. It’s twisted and gleeful and it makes you sick to your stomach. This is bullshit. You’re not going to be anyone’s plaything. You’re not going to stay here. 

Below you is the sound of the rapids. You know what you need to do. 

(You always hate to say that you’re afraid of heights because it’s not the height that you're afraid of, but the possibility of falling. This isn’t your only fear, you’re afraid of lots of things, but it’s the most pertinent to what you are planning. You feel the earth crumble just behind your heels, fear grips your stomach, and you remember the advice your dad gave you when you were eight years old. 

You were at the playground with him, at the top of the fireman pole, too scared to slide down when your dad told you, “sweetie, here’s what you need to do,”

You looked down to where he was waiting on the mulched ground. 

“Just count to three.”

“What?” 

“If you’re ever scared, and feel like you can’t do something, you count down to three and do it. Then you’ll be able to prepare but not overthink it.”)

Your eyes open and you look down at the sword still gripped in your other hand. The edge of the cliff is just behind your boot. 

“1…” 

You look back at Gilbert, who’s taken another step toward you. You slowly bring the knife down from your throat. Gilbert relaxes, he thinks he’s talked you down, but Vladimir is angry. 

“2...” 

You drop Gilbert's sword on the ground before you. Your knife slides back into its sheath.

“3.” 

And like that day at the park with your father, all those years ago, you close your eyes tight and fall. The wind rushes by your ears, but you can still hear Gilbert yell out to you.

What is stronger than the human heart

which shatters over and over

And still lives

author’s note

Hello!

I am so sorry for how long it took to get this chapter up! Hopefully, the next chapter can come out quicker but I can't promise anything! This final scene is one of the first moments in the story that I thought of, so it's satisfying to finally get to its part in the fic! I hope you all enjoy it, and please leave me some comments/reblogs if you like it! They are so lovely! Wishing you all a happy holiday, and to stay safe! My area is being pounded by some pretty nasty weather!

Quotes (in order)

1. Sedated by Hozier

2. Sedated by Hozier

3. Mind Over Matter by The Young Giants

4. a quote by Rupi Kaur

[atom-writings]

Nice blog! You wouldn't mind if I took a little chomp out of it yeah? :D

Mmmmm can I request France,Germany,England, Prussia and Russia with an s/o who really likes there accent and voice. S/o would listen to them talk all day just to hear there voice/accent? There just mesmerized by it.

Much appreciated partner and have a great day🙏🙏‼️‼️🔥🔥⁉️⁉️🪑🪑🪑🪑

(France, Germany, England, Prussia & Russia x Reader) S/O that loves their accent!

(Gender Neutral) Headcanons ~ A/N have fun eating my blog but beware. Theres poison sometimes :)

Trigger Warning: None, just fluff!

Oh, you do not need to tell him that. He knows. And he adores how obsessed you are with just his voice. Don’t worry, he won’t tease you too bad

But expect to be woken up a couple of times by him reading you love poems in French. Actually, he’s doing that all the time. Anytime that he can speak to you in French, he’s doing it.

“My beautiful language for a beautiful person, no?”

It’s also pretty obvious that he exaggerates his accent for you. Sure, he’s been speaking English for centuries, but you’d never guess that from how he talks to you. It’s a little childish, but he just can’t get enough of your face whenever he says anything even remotely romantic in that silky voice of his.

Whenever he catches you staring, he can’t do anything but grin, promising himself that he’ll spoil you sometime soon for being so cute.

Ludwig has never really liked his own voice that much, so at least someone does for him. He always complains it’s too harsh and too loud. And years of people judging him for his accent didn’t help that…

But he trusts you completely. If you say you want to hear him, he’ll talk as much as you want. But since you’re not giving him a prompt, you’re hearing about 1870s train logistics. He doesn’t make the rules.

He would try to be all affectionate and sweet like you want him to… but that is really not his forte. He tries! But you’ll just both end up blushing and stuttering and getting nothing done then. If it’s just his handsome accent you want though, you’re all good. He can make a manual on building an IKEA chair sound hot.

He’d rather hear YOU ramble than do so himself. Even if he does love how adorable you are when you’re so infatuated with him.

No surprise there. You’re not the first partner of his to love his voice, and you won’t be the last. Luckily that means he’s got a whole lot of experience, so he knows exactly what to say to melt your heart.

“Come on, Darling, don’t look at me like that.  Why don’t we get out of here, just me and you? How about that, Love?”

He’s not much for rambling, much less talking about himself, but he can absolutely fulfil your need for his voice elsewhere. A lot of your nights spent together will be him reading some ancient novel to you, his voice soothing as ever, until you inevitably fall asleep cuddled up next to him.

He must admit, he loves having that power over you. Being able to make you fall in love with him using nothing but his words? You’re just so cute, he can’t resist flustering you on purpose.

Well, of course you do! He’s spent centuries making sure he sounds hot as hell! But… you’re being serious right? You aren’t annoyed by how high-pitched he can get? Ok, thank god.

He is so excited once you tell him that. It’s hard to stop himself from immediately teasing you about it. After all, there isn’t a single sight that’s cuter to him than your pretty face all lost in love for him.

If you’re ever feeling down, he tries to distract you by simply telling you a long, overly complicated story from his past. Which, with those purple eyes fixed on you and a goofy smile plastered across his face, all the while his voice drips with accent, it’s hard to not get distracted.

He loves talking about himself anyway. It’s a good thing you like hearing him. Most people don’t. But that’s just what makes you two meant to be <3

Oh, you like his voice? He’s confused. You’re being serious? … why?

The poor guy is really insecure about his voice. He worries his accent is too strong, too ugly, and his voice is way too high-pitched. It seems like no one likes when he talks… they say he’s rude and weird. So… your adoration for him and how he speaks is a real shock.

Whenever you ask him to talk more, he gets all embarrassed and doesn’t know what to say! Especially if you compliment his accent, then he just freezes up and dismisses you. Anywhere you are, he’ll start talking all quietly and cover his face with his hands. But you can still see him blushing underneath them…

But once he’s used to it, he loves just narrating the things he’s doing. Sometimes you’ll wake up and come downstairs to see him coming up with some silly song about the breakfast he’s cooking you. Learning that you like hearing him has definitely made him include stuff like that in his daily routine. 

Plus, now when he wants a reaction out of you… he’ll lean into it. Rolling his r’s dramatically, whispering to you in Russian… when he wants to be, he’s quite a tease.

[imaginethebeautifulworld]

hello!

so i had a thought/request thing: prussia x reader sound of music au?

Oh I absolutely LOVE that thought!

I took a little creative license in this fic (which I will elaborate on in the after-notes), but ultimately I directly referenced some of my favorite scenes from the film.

Thank you for sending me the ask, and I hope you enjoy!

The children were finally asleep.

A spring storm had rolled in- a welcome relief to the dry heat which had plagued the city for several long days- but the thunder had troubled them.

You were hardly surprised when first a timid Ludvig came to your room, followed only moments later by Monika. It took a few more claps of thunder and flickering lights for Friedrich to appear, claiming with false bravado that he had come to make sure that you were safe.

You had distracted them from their fears, though some- such as the loud protests which continued with each passing day, the strange men seen lurking outside the house, and the current absence of their guardian- Some fears couldn't be assuaged.

But children were easy enough to sway from their dark thoughts, and you always had a gift for embellishing the truth. 

This time, you chose not to rely on the ditty you had taught them several weeks prior (though you could hear Ludvig repeating 'whiskers on kittens' to himself), but instead crafted a tale of heroism about their big brother, one that soon worked its magic, all three falling asleep by the time the storm had settled into gentle rainfall, curled together atop your blankets.

Unfortunately, their restless energy had passed onto you, and after several moments of staring at the ceiling, you carefully, quietly, slipped out from beneath the covers, tugging on a nearby robe, and sliding on a pair of slippers before making your way to the library.

Time passed without your knowledge; you had found an old disc of American singers to play on the gramophone, and quickly tucked yourself into a novella that had caught your interest several days prior. It was a pleasant distraction, almost successful in keeping your frazzled thoughts from running wild. 

Had his work run late? Had there been an accident? Had one of those radicals done something that was meant to look like an accident? Had-

The distant, sudden sound of the front door closing had you glancing towards the grandfather clock, that flicker of worry sparking to life once more as you noted the lateness of the hour.

His work often brought with it long hours, but this, even by his standards, was alarming.

You were relieved to hear his footsteps, and knew you must content yourself with the knowledge that he had at least made it home safely. He had, after all, made it perfectly clear some time ago that his welfare was none of your concern.

In vain, you tried to return to your book, but to your chagrin the combination of the gramophone's crackling, the tapping of raindrops on the windowpanes, and the nearing, shuffling footsteps kept you from falling back into the story. You feigned interest however as a familiar figure entered the doorway.

For a moment, he said nothing, silently studying you. You were hyper-aware of his gaze, were certain he could hear the panicked rush of your heartbeat, could see the heat dancing on your cheeks.

Finally, he spoke, your given name tumbling out almost as a sigh, and to your embarrassment it caused you to jump, startled by its presence in your already frenzied state.

You turned to face him directly, seeing his hand hanging uselessly in the air, looking for everything like a guilty schoolboy. In another circumstance, you could have laughed, seeing the normally rigid Captain so timid and unsure of himself. "Sorry! Sorry, I..." His words trailed off, the hand falling back to his side, all emotion gone from his features once more. "May I join you?"

No, you wanted to say, I'm not sure I could trust myself if you stay.

But your voice was welcoming him in, and you straightened your posture as he took the chair opposite you.

You tried once more to feign interest in your book, but your eyes kept straying from the page, unable to stop yourself from studying his features in the warm light, taken in by the vulnerability, small as it was, he was granting you, clearly beyond weary.

Your curiosity could no longer be helped. "Are you well, Herr Beilschmidt?"

A small smile flickered to life, half-formed and fragile, those peculiar scarlet eyes finding yours, your name once more slipping past his lips. "I thought we agreed you would call me Gilbert when we were alone?"

For a moment, he was no longer a Captain, not Herr Beilschmidt, but any other man, a man who could even become-

But that could not be, and you wouldn't allow your fantasies to jeopardize your work, couldn't bear the thought of being parted from the children. "I agreed to no such thing, Herr Beilschmidt."

He released a pained sort of sound, reminiscent of a scoff, and it prompted just enough of your ire for you to press onward with your curiosity. "You were out late this evening."

You couldn't fully conceal your concern, and it was clear that he had detected it, those eyes somber once more, studious and strategic.

Fearful of what he may find, you spoke once more, hiding the inconvenient truth with another, sweeter one. "The children missed you at dinner."

His study lingered, lips parting as if he were going to speak, before he dismissed it, a sadness surrounded him in its absence. "How were they today?"

This was neutral territory, familiar ground, and you breathed a silent sigh of relief. You began a retelling of the day's adventures, embellishing your words with a whimsy that had often earned you others' disdain. But G- Herr Beilschmidt- was amused, laughing at your failed attempt to mimic Friedrich's angered voice at Monika for daring to stick a frog in his pocket.

"And Luddy?"

Your smile softened at thoughts of the youngest Beilschmidt. "A dear as always. He insisted upon baking a cake with me earlier." The words triggered another memory, a more urgent one, and you rose with a suddenness that caused him to jump. "Pardon me; I forgot that we saved a slice for you! Excuse me for a moment?"

You didn't wait for his reply, already sweeping towards the open doorway, forgetting in your rush to grab a candle, the electric having gone down several hours ago.

The corridor loomed before you, quiet and filled with the darkness of the midnight hour. In the face of that alien light, your footsteps faltered, suddenly uncertain of a path you had tread dozens of times.

A warm presence appeared at your side, a gentle hand pressing to your lower back, as he fell into step beside you, carrying one of the candles. "Allow me?"

Your skin burned beneath the weight of his hand, memories of the party several nights before now dancing to the surface at his nearness.

How you wished you could turn him away now, but fear of the ghosts still haunting these ancients halls and nameless monsters lurking in the shadows far overpowered your fears of revealing your heart.

Slowly, quietly, you charted the course to the kitchen, and you were grateful to finally be able to step away, allowing yourself a moment to breathe, reign in your traitorous thoughts.

The ghost of his touch still remained however, and you busied yourself with pulling the cake from the ice box, pleasantly surprised to discover some remaining cream as well.

He had taken a seat at the small table often used by the house staff, several more candles lit in front of him. You were surprised to see he had pulled out two forks, standing and gesturing to the empty chair beside him. "Please; join me."

You should have taken your leave.

You should have made your excuses and retired for the evening.

But there was something so hopeful in his expression, and you couldn't resist the sway he held over you.

For a time, there were no words shared between you, the only sound the symphony of the falling rain, the distant notes of the gramophone, and the irregularity of silver tines clinking against porcelain.

"We should discuss what happened at the party."

His voice was unexpected, words hanging in the air with a tension you were loathe to acknowledge.

There was nothing to discuss, not to your mind.

He was betrothed to another, and he was your employer.

It could never be anything more, even if you should so desperately wish for it.

Still, you would always have those memories, safely locked away into your heart: Monika sighing, fondly watching the sparkling couples gliding across the ballroom floor, Ludvig pestering you with questions about the musicians, and Friedrich earnestly trying to master the Allemande with you, before Gilbert was unexpectedly cutting in, offering the children a brief history lesson even as he fell perfectly into step, words soon falling away, sparkling burgundy eyes locking with your own.

With each step, you felt your fragile defenses weakening, was certain he was drawing you nearer with every turn. Each clasp of hands sent a spark through your pulse, every point of contact buzzing with restless energy. As you took your final turn in a dance meant for four, you were met with a warm smile which stole the little breath you had left, and you were drowning in a wine-dark sea.

The spell was broken with Julchen's applause, surprise to see her home from university enough to distract the others, though Gilbert was slow to release your hand, lingering, before he finally drifted over to join his younger siblings.

You couldn't fathom why he should wish to discuss the ordeal now of all times, though to say it hadn't been on your mind, replaying in your thoughts for the past several weeks, would be a lie.

"You hired me to watch over your brothers and sisters, and I care for them dearly."

Your focus remained on the chocolate crumbs remaining on the plate, dark flecks against the otherwise pristine, pastel pink petals.

Even as he spoke your name once more, you did not turn to him, unable to face him. "Only the children?"

"No," you admitted, before you recognized your slip and quickly tried to rectify it. "Yes!" Trying to redirect his thoughts, you interrupted him before he could speak. "Isn't it right that I should care for them?"

You finally turned to him, praying your mask would hold, even as you once again found yourself the subject of his scrutiny. He was bewildered, clearly not expecting this turn.

"Of course it's right."

You saw another opening, one that could perhaps save you from his suspicions. "You invited me into your home, and I am grateful to you. I'll miss them very much when you and the Baroness-"

Oh, you couldn't even speak it, for goodness sake!

But this excuse was convenient, a simple shroud, disguising your feelings behind the implication that your true worries were being parted from the children, that you only dreaded his betrothed becoming his wife because-

You could face him no longer, your attention once more drawn back to the scene in front of you, candlelight dancing in refractions on the cutlery. 

He let out a stray sound of bemusement, your given name yet again slipping from his lips in a fond murmur. "There isn't going to be a baroness."

Your attention flickered back to him almost immediately, disbelieving and concerned. "There isn't?"

"No," he hummed. There was a slant to his brow, a twist to his features which puzzled you.

"I don't understand."

His focus shifted away from you, a small smile once more flickering to life, not fading away this time but lingering, its lightness echoing in his voice. "We've called off our engagement-"

"Oh, I'm sorry," you whispered sincerely, not meaning to interrupt, but he was stunned nonetheless.

"You are?"

You nodded, unwilling to trust your voice in this moment.

His smile softened to something unreadable then, something which made your heart melt. "We both agreed that, well..." He suddenly was looking away from you, bashful in a way you didn't recognize, taking a steadying breath before he seemingly found the courage to face you once more, though his words were barely a whisper. "You can't marry someone when you're in love with someone else."

At first, you were unable to comprehend his words, desperate for confirmation. "Surely you don't mean-?"

His hand found yours, gentle and insistent. "I do. I've come to love you in a way... quite unexpected. And I," he paused, his eyes seeking your own with a tremulous yearning, one which carried in his words. "Is it foolish for me to hope that you love me, too?"

You thought back to the journey which had led you here: the arguments, the compromises, the love growing ever stronger with each passing day. This house had been a cold tomb when you had first arrived, specters haunting every square meter.

But now it was your home.

The children were your home.

Gilbert was your home.

He was still waiting for your answer, both despondent and eager, and you finally allowed your mask to fall away, smiling as you raised your free hand to gently cup his cheek, your vision hazing through tears.

It was uncertain who moved first, but the kiss was all you could hope it to be: gentle, loving, with an added sweetness from the lingering tastes of cake and cream.

He sighed as you slowly drew away, the candlelight dancing in his eyes, a bright smile creasing his features.

You had made many mistakes in this life, taken many missteps, but to be blessed with this life, to find such love and a place to call home?

Somewhere along the way, you must have done something good.

One of the most notable changes was directly adjusting Gil's role compared to Captain von Trapp's. The Sound of Music carries an inherent antifascist message, which allowed me to explore more of my belief that Gilbert was a Prussian Social Democrat, a member of one of the most influential political parties directly challenging the rising fascist ideals of the growing Nazi Party. Several assassination attempts were made on members of the Social Democrats, before, ultimately, tragically, their work against the Nazi Party was overruled by vote.

I opted to keep Gil as a big brother instead of a father; I cherish the relationship they have already, and the thought of them not only losing a parent, but watching their beloved, bright brother fade away into someone they barely know- It was too good.

I spent quite sometime trying to finding a traditional German couple's dance, and even the Allemande, from the Baroque period, was intended for a group of four.

I wish this could have been longer, but at over 2000 words already. I am content.

Thank you again for the ask, and thank you so much to everyone for reading!

[erina-writes-headcanons]

Germany getting prank called by Prussia and p/o. P/o stands for platonic other.

Ludwig Beilschmidt, Gilbert Beilschmidt, and Elizaveta Hedervary Prank Called by Their Friend (P/O)

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A/N: Here Anon! I hope you like the result of your request. I am sorry for replying to your request very late. Because of the lateness, I added Hungary as a bonus.

Gender: Neutral

Warning: Profanities

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Ludwig Beilschmidt - Germany

If you watch Hetalia, you know how much he cannot stand any kind of bullshit and he's easily angered because of Feliciano's random antics.

Even though he is mostly calm, and collected and seems he can handle any randomness that happens around him, he's not. He often loses his shit, especially in that scene where Italy made Japan almost the same as him.

Even though you don't really prank a lot of people. Sometimes the boredom changes you from your serious facade into a troublemaker piece of shiet.

Guess what? You are bored as hell and you have done all of your assignments since a few days ago and you are currently laying on the couch with a troubled face

Because of that, you decide to prank call your friend, Ludwig Beilschmidt. Which is kind of a good idea but also a bad idea for you, especially if you are not athletic.

The good idea because he made a funny reaction, He would curse in German words before he close the phone after knowing you pranked him and slammed the phone to the nightstand.

The bad idea because once the two of you meet, he will give you the most deadly stare that even scares the devil before he forces you to join the run training with Feliciano.

Your punishment also doubled in the example. If only Feliciano must run around the track five times, you would be running around the track field seven or ten times.

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Water rains down from the top of Ludwig's head until it reaches the drain. The whole bathroom filled with the smell of Apple orchard, fruity yet fresh as Ludwig washes himself with the water from the bubbles of the soap and the shampoo.

The tall man stepped out of the shower once he was done cleaning himself from the shower and dried himself with two towels as one of it are used to cover his manhood and the other one is used to dry his blonde hair.

The sound of his phone ringing reached out from his ear while he was wiping his hair with the towel. Ludwig glances up to his phone, putting the towel away before he uses his pants and trudges slowly to the phone. Picking it up and answering the phone, not aware of the prank that you are going to pull.

"Guten Tag, Mit wem spreche ich, bitte?" (Good afternoon, Who am I speaking to?) Ludwig asks.

"Good afternoon, this is me, Ludwig. I need you to do something," you told him.

"Ja, vhat is it, (Y/N)?" Ludwig asks.

"....Could you go to my house and go to my bathroom. I'm stuck in here because I ran out of toilet paper," you hold your snicker.

Soon silence fills the whole room and you can hear several sounds of German curses escaping from Ludwig's lips. You could not help but his reaction was very funny that the laugh that you tried to hold on desperately finally escapes, "BHAHAHAHA!! I'm sorry Ludwig!! HAHAHA" You laughed out loud.

"VERDAMMT (Y/N)! STOP DOING THIS KIND OF PRANK!" Steam escapes from his ear before he closes the phone and blocks your contact since you often pull this kind of prank. Let's hope the next day he would give mercy to you when it's training time.

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Gilbert Beilschmidt - Prussia

Gilbert is one of the troublemakers in the Bad Touch Trio and he has done many pranks to the other countries just for shit and giggles. Including pranking his own brother, Ludwig.

Unlike Ludwig, he doesn't lose his shit easily because he is the epitome of a troublemaker. The one who causes trouble so this kind of prank would not annoy him.

If you try to prank call him. I think he would be confused for a brief second, not knowing it was you that he pranked you. He would throw some questions to make sure who is the other person behind the caller.

However, if he knows that it is you. I can see he would laugh and think that your prank is funny, almost fooling him and believing that it was another person who called him.

Another reaction that I can see he would most likely do is trying to prank you back as you prank call him by pretending that he's another person or making loud noises to scare you off.

After the prank call you have pulled to him. I can see he won't be annoyed but instead, I can see that he would ask you if he can join in pranking others with a prank call.

His main victim would be his own brother just to see him angry because he thinks it would be funny to prank him. Next would be either Hungary or Austria.

You and Prussia would be a great prank call buddy, especially if you two are pranking other people together. I can see he would be a prank buddy too outside of prank calls, the two of you would be the master of pranks.

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A grunt could be heard from the living room along with the sound of panting and the sound of breathing. A pair of ruby red eyes looking at the huge bar on top of him, lifting the metallic bar with the muscles of his arms twitching a little bit because of the repetitive movement and the height of the dumbell.

Sweats trickled from his forehead and his arms with the heat of his body getting hotter and hotter. It has been a long time since Gilbert workout alone while Germany out to work and having a meeting time with the other countries.

After several lifts, Gilbert carefully put the dumbell away after he can feel his muscles getting a little bit painful after several long lifts without any break. The white-haired Prussian grabs the wet cloth next to him, using it to wipe the sweat on his face and his body until he hears a loud ring from his phone.

Gilbert stands up, walking to the table to grab the cellphone and answer the phone. "Kesesesese! Zhis is avesome Prussia! Vho am I talking to?" Prussia asks.

"What? Didn't you call me?" You held your laugh.

"Vhat? Zhe awesome me haven't called you or anyone. Vhat are you talking about?" Prussia raises his eyebrows in confusion.

"You c-called me a few hours ago, Gilbert," You hope that Prussia did not hear your snicker but your pray wasn't heard.

"KESESESESESE! I see, you are pranking me, aren't you? That's a good one!" Gilbert knew that you pranked him, oh well.

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Elizaveta Hedervary - Hungary

This queen does not like handling stupid situations/randomness but that does not mean she is stuck-up like Germany (Ludwig). She could be fun too.

The reason I am saying this is that there are two reactions that I am sure she would give you. In the first one, she would be angry but not as angry as Ludwig.

She would scold you and says that you are annoying if you often prank call her but not always doing it because she would most likely smack you with a Pan if you do it every day.

If she isn't too angry. She would probably block your contact but not forever, just for a few hours to make you understand that she is not in the mood to be pranked.

If you are a male, she would hit you with a frying pan if you keep pranking her nonstop and if you are a female. She would be likely to stop inviting you to shop together with her and give you a silent treatment.

I also can see that she would try to confront you by the prank calls and telling you to stop pranking her. If you keep teasing her, there is a chance she would chase you around just like how she chase off Prussia.

Also, I said she is not a stuck-up because I can see that she would ask you if she can join with the prank call together with you with the victim either Austria or Prussia.

She would also ask others to help you prank other countries to do a prank call to other countries, enlarging the victim of the prank call if you are doing a prank call with her.

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Birds chirping outside of the window as a pair of emerald green eyes stare at the sky outside of the window. Hungary wishes she could go hang out with her friends but none of them had a free time, all of them are busy with the job and the meetings that they had to do and ordered by their boss.

Elizavetha grabs the sweet bean strudel before stuffing it into her mouth, enjoying the sweet traditional Hungarian pastry that she made by herself. The sweet taste fills her mouth as she enjoys the the breaf while enjoying her afternoon tea alone.

As she was going to grab another bite of the sweet. A sound of her phone ringing could be heard by her, she looks up at the table as she sees her phone ringing out. Grabbing the phone, she looks up at the number and her head tilted a little bit as she sees the unknown number.

Elizavetha presses the answer button and putting the phone on speaker mode before she gulps the leftover pastry that was still inside of her mouth.

"Jó reggelt. Kivel beszélek?" (Good morning,. Who am i speaking with?) Elizavetha asks.

"Greetings, we are from Samsung company and we are doing a conduct check up test. Because of that, we need you to follow these phrase," you tried to distinguish your voice.

"Vhat? But I am not using Samsung and vhy do you sound so familiar.." she squinted her eyes.

"...Uhhh-" You feel a little bit nervous.

"Is...zhis (Y/N)?" Elizavetha began figuring out that you are trying to prank her.

"Uhhhh Goodbye-" You quickly close the phone, not ready for the next day since you are going to meet Elizavetha and have a meeting with her tomorrow.

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[504py]

Badly thinking about bloody yandere Prussia

i hear ya, anon…. i feel like gilbert would have an initial shame over being so obsessed over someone, but once he accepts it, he sorta makes a sport out of it. “look at how much i’d do for you! aren’t i the best?” wonder if y’all would be interested in me making a full post about my hcs for him.

guess this is a good time to announce that my inbox is open again LOL.

[mxlovinovargas]

HOMBRE LOBO

Want—ever long in the ephemeral past and present and future—is one with the human condition, thus explored in these stories through thought, actions, and words that speak more than just a silly little craving. These are 12 stories of longing, restlessness, and desire. This is Hombre Lobo.

Prizefighter - [Denmark x f!Reader]

That Look You Give That Guy - [Switzerland x f!Reader]

Lilac Breeze - [Spain x f!Reader]

In My Dreams - [Italy x f!Reader]

Tremendous Dynamite - [Prussia x f!Reader]

The Longing - [Norway x f!Reader]

Fresh Blood - [Russia x f!Reader]

What's a Fella Gotta Do - [Romania x f!Reader]

My Timing Is off - [Germany x f!Reader]

All the Beautiful Things - [England x f!Reader]

Beginner's Luck - [Lithuania x f!Reader]

Ordinary Man - [Romano x f!Reader]

DISCLAIMER: These are strictly fictional one-shots. They have no basis nor do they reflect reality. These are not meant to be read as a foundation for your sexual, romantic, or platonic relationships. These are not a guide. They have dark content, dark themes, and dark outcomes. As the title says, "Werewolf", and it should be inferred no differently. Thank you.

[crimson-kisses]

Heyy, how about an platonic germany and prussia with a younger sibling? Like a micronation or a country!

Thanks for taking your time. we love your content, dont forget to rest!! 🌷🌷

Aw thank you so much for the lovely kind words :’) lifts my spirits up fr - I believe this concept has been done already, but nonetheless I will try and keep this rather short and simple. 🌻

Warnings: yandere themes, toxic relationships and the like.

Guidance

Perhaps you are a small protectorate state situated between Switzerland and Germany or between Austria and Germany. The region you represent is nestled amidst the aftermath of a war-ravaged battlefield, a testament to the turmoil that has unfolded. It is within this backdrop that Gilbert and Ludwig, two German brothers, stumble upon you, a young child in need of protection.

Recognizing the fragility of your situation, both Gilbert and Ludwig take it upon themselves to safeguard you. Gilbert, with a sense of duty and compassion, becomes your primary caretaker, ensuring your well-being and providing the nurturing support that you require. His presence brings a sense of warmth and stability, assuring you that you are not alone in this world.

Ludwig, on the other hand, takes a more reserved approach initially, keeping a watchful eye from the sidelines. His role extends beyond your immediate care, as he assumes the responsibility of handling any diplomatic tensions that may arise due to your presence. Aware of the delicate nature of political relationships in the region, Ludwig acts as a mediator, striving to maintain a delicate balance and protect the interests of your small state.

Both brothers understand the importance of their roles and the need to balance each other out. Gilbert's nurturing nature and hands-on approach provide you with a sense of security and guidance, while Ludwig's diplomatic prowess and watchful eye ensure the stability and political viability of your protectorate.

As time passes, Gilbert and Ludwig grow more attuned to the challenges and responsibilities that come with protecting you. They strive to provide you with the best possible future amidst the backdrop of the war-torn region.

Gilbert takes on the role of a tough mentor, providing discipline and rigorous tutoring. He has an obnoxious side to him, but he believes in pushing you to reach your full potential. He sets high standards and expects you to meet them, sometimes pushing you outside of your comfort zone. While his methods might be strict, they are aimed at helping you grow and succeed.

On the other hand, Ludwig, despite also being strict, has a gentler approach compared to his elder brother. He recognizes the importance of balance and ensures that you have time to relax and unwind. Ludwig understands the need for affection and emotional support, even if he finds it awkward to express it himself. He creates a safe space for you, where you can find solace and feel cared for.

As you grow older, Gilbert begins to loosen up his strict demeanor. He sees your progress and development, and he becomes more supportive and encouraging. He realizes that while discipline is important, it's equally important to have an environment that allows you to thrive and feel supported.

Both Gilbert and Ludwig work together to shield you from the feeling of isolation. They go above and beyond to ensure that you never truly feel alone. They create a sense of belonging and make you feel part of a loving and nurturing family, despite the challenges and isolation that may surround your small territory.

While you may not fully grasp the extent of your isolation, it is because Gilbert and Ludwig actively work to shield you from it. They make sure that you have a support system and a sense of belonging, so that you can grow and flourish in your unique circumstances. Their combined efforts create an environment where you can thrive, even in the face of isolation.

Gilbert also takes on the role of keeping you occupied with various activities, often in a random and chaotic manner. He teaches you different things and shares altered visions of what he considers necessary for you to know.

Ludwig, on the other hand, assumes the responsibility of handling more manipulative tasks. He deals with any external threats or individuals who might be prying too much into your affairs. Ludwig ensures that the surveillance technology in place is functioning properly, protecting your privacy and security.

Gilbert's focus is primarily on your education and keeping you engaged. He creates an environment of constant stimulation and learning, even if it may seem chaotic at times. Meanwhile, Ludwig works behind the scenes, safeguarding your interests and ensuring that your privacy is protected.

While their approaches may differ, Gilbert and Ludwig collaborate to provide a balance of education and protection. Gilbert's random and chaotic activities keep you on your toes, fostering a sense of curiosity and adaptability. Ludwig's surveillance and protective measures ensure that you are shielded from external threats and unwanted intrusions.

Gilbert and Ludwig provide you with a unique upbringing, where you are constantly learning, protected, and shielded from excessive interference. Their combined efforts create an environment where you can grow and develop, while also maintaining control.

Ludwig makes sure to keep reminding you of your young age, often making you feel anxious and worried about potential dangers in the world. He subtly plays with your mind, gently coaxing you to think negatively and suspiciously about your surroundings, it also brings about unease within you.

Despite this, Ludwig also provides you with an outlet for conversation, allowing you to discuss any topic you desire. Similar to Gilbert, he possesses a wealth of knowledge and diverse interests, which proves beneficial when you express your own interests. Ludwig's vast knowledge allows for engaging discussions and opportunities for you.

Ludwig's approach is tinged with a level of mental manipulation, the constant reminder of your vulnerability and the negative perspective he encourages fills you anxiety and a sense of distrust.

Both Gilbert and Ludwig still play significant roles in your upbringing. Gilbert keeps you occupied with various activities and teaches you, while Ludwig's conversations and knowledge expand your horizons.

Both of them provide you with access to various forms of entertainment and resources, such as books, movies, PlayStation, and games. They ensure that you have a means to satisfy your wants and desires within reasonable limits. While you won't be completely cut off from the outside world, they encourage a level of dependence on them for your wants and needs.

By carefully managing your access to resources and creating an environment where they fulfill most, if not all, of your wants and needs, Gilbert and Ludwig foster a sense of reliance on them. They want you to view them as the primary providers and caretakers, ensuring that you turn to them for support and assistance.

All of you will have a house in the countryside, providing a sense of isolation from the outside world. They allocate a significant portion of the house to you, allowing you the freedom to shape it according to your preferences. They encourage you to make the space your own, to design and decorate it to your liking.

Within the boundaries that they establish for your safety and well-being, Gilbert and Ludwig happily support your decisions and desires for the house. Whether it's choosing the colors, arranging the furniture, or adding personal touches, they want you to feel a sense of ownership and comfort in your living space.

Since this scenario is set in modern times, it is likely that the relationship between you, Gilbert, and Ludwig would indeed have a lighthearted tone due to your young age, given your upbringing and the support provided by Gilbert and Ludwig.

Gilbert, as the caring and affectionate figure, would likely engage in various activities with you, such as games, adventures, or creative projects. He would create a cheerful and nurturing environment, where adventures are common occurrences. His goal would be to ensure that you have an enjoyable experience.

Ludwig, while potentially more reserved, would still find ways to interact with you in a lighthearted manner. He might encourage intellectual pursuits, engage in stimulating conversations, or introduce you to new experiences. Despite his serious nature, he would recognize the importance of fostering easement within you.

Though as you grow older, you might begin to question certain aspects of your upbringing and notice differences between your life and that of others. You may wonder why some of your friends are suddenly missing and why you don't attend school with other kids. You might also notice that you don't have the same possessions or experiences as your peers, leading to feelings of curiosity, confusion, frustration or a sense of missing out.

Your dear brothers are fully aware of the confusion you are experiencing and have already prepared to have a conversation with you when you turn to them crying about it. Always running to them for support and affection.

You truly were so naive, just as they preferred you to be.