#yandere austria

[shini--chan]

Hello! ✨

How would germany, prussia, france, russia and austria (all of them are 1p) deal with a lover who have genophobia? (genophobia is a serious fear of sexual intimacy)

Hello charming stranger

Yandere Hetalia - Genophobia

Trigger warnings: substance abuse, forced therapy, dub-con, non-con, murder, lobotomisation, deliberate triggering of phobias 

Austria

Roderich would be incredulous about it. First, he would doubt your condition, see it just as you dishing up fibs to avoid a normal relationship. There would be snide remarks and very mean teasing. He would calm down over time, at least a bit, and decide to test the waters to see if you're telling the truth. And to determine the severity of your condition, should you turn out to be honest.

There would be hands on your waist, wandering higher or lower than appropriate. A lot of lewd jokes would fall, and when kissing you, he would pull you closer than usual or even light bite your lip. Maybe he'll make you read some raunchy novels, or go as far as to touch you in a sexual manner while you're asleep. 

Once he'd set up the diagnosis, he'll delve straight into giving you treatment. Since he is the man that outright enjoys playing psychiatrist, you'd be subjected to the full program. A pleasant side-effect in his eyes would be that he'd get to know you so well. Furthermore, you'd be indebted to him for curing you. 

That being said, your willingness to engage in therapy, with him no less, wouldn't play a significant role in his mind. The doctor knows what's best, better than the patient does, after all. Although, should conventional methods not work, then he'll gradually become more frustrated. The more frustrated he is, the more unconventional and unorthodox his methods would become. Brainwashing isn't off the table. 

France

Francis would be aghast and irate. What happened to you that you're so scared of baring yourself to another person? Should there be a culprit, then he would tear open their throat and serve their heart to you on a silver platter, quite literally in this case. France would aim on demonstrating his dedication to you through this, that he would avenge you and hunt those that harm you to the ends of the earth. Radical and off putting? He wouldn't see it that way. 

Retributions and crimes of passion aside, he would be frustrated with your genophobia. When it comes to closer interactions, he would live in constant fear of triggering your phobia. That is something that would kill the romance for him, so he would seek ways to alleviate your fears. One of those would include romancing you so thoroughly and hard (love-bombing) that you would forget the past. At least, that would be his idea. Another would be alcohol, another carbon monoxide, and yet another making you watch pornography. 

While he does claim to be a master of romance, he is a bit too bloodthirsty and controlling to really be becoming of that title. He would yearn for the picture perfect romance with you, and your genophobia would throw a spanner in the works. So it would have to be eradicated, even if it would involve vile means. Depending on the time period, it might end up with you being lobotomized. 

Germany

Ludwig would really be a wild card in regards to this. He could be awkward, recognising you as a victim of a heinous crime and handling you as if you're made of glass. At first that is - the sentiment would wear off as time passes. 

In that state, he would be at a loss with what he should do with you. There would be fearful attempts of broaching the subject more in depth, of communicating like healthy couples should. But this isn't a healthy relationship and Ludwig is far too emotionally constipated for something like that. Perhaps the two of you would wind up going in circles around each other. Germany's attempts to help you would be downright insensitive at times, like handing you a dildo and telling you to mastrubate until you are ready for real sex. 

Or, he would go in the opposite way of trying to help you in his considerate, awkward fashion. Then, he would view you as inferior to himself, a lowly creature that has to be hammered into shape. He'd roll his eyes, snap at you to pull yourself together, even make fun of you. In war, it would even be worse than that - coercion and threats and use of force. 

Either way, in most of the cases he would end up being so frustrated and wooden and out of sorts. He would sing your praises to the heavens and condemn you to hell. To relieve some of his frustration, he'd sometimes lock himself in his office with a photo or a personal effect of yours and take care of himself. 

Prussia

Gilbert, being his frugal and monastic self, even to the modern day, wouldn't realise that you have genophobia until far into the relationship. At first, he would be relieved since that wouldn't mean he would have to put out anytime soon. However, as the relationship would progress, he would find himself becoming frisky and mulling over sleeping with you. 

Here it should be remarked that Gilbert is no psychologist and he has little tact or finesse when it comes to human interactions. This would be evident in your relationship as well. Thus, he wouldn't know how to approach the issue at first. His first approaches would be downright hilarious - if it weren't such a serious topic and if he wouldn't be yandere. 

Finally though, he would take a military approach to the matter and gradually acclimate you to being intimate with regular "exercises", where you would both gradually expand your comfort zone. If it would make you comfortable, then he'd give up all control and let you ride him like a warhorse. 

Beware though - if he'd get the feeling that you're being difficult on purpose, to be spiteful or petty or due to whatever reason, then he'll let you feel it. Prussia wouldn't coerce you into sex, however your life would become harsher and harder if you make him endure a Josephite marriage. 

Russia

Oh, when it comes to the grand picture, he would be elated at your fear of intimacy. It would mean that you aren't able to cheat on him, after all. During the beginning of your relationship he would even encourage it, and even try to use it as a springboard to make you isolate yourself even further and rely only on him. Perhaps he'd even orchestrate some incidents to induce social anxiety in you. 

That aside, you having genophobia probably means somebody hurt you in some fashion. It would be a matter that he simply couldn't leave be, and Ivan would take it upon himself to avenge you. Of course, while he would ensure that the news of that bastard's brutal demise reaches your ears, he wouldn't confess to the gruesome deep until much later. You'd have to be firmly bound to him for him to truly be open with you. 

Speaking of that, once your social life consists only of him and the company he approves of, he'd be determined to solve your problems. His approach would be that your phobia is still such a fixture in your life because you haven't found closure yet. New surroundings and a new lifestyle could help with that, or him finally coming clean in lynching the persons who harmed you. 

Though, should his initial hypothesis' bear no fruit, then he'd try more radical methods. In essence he would define the problem as your inability to relax during intimacy and that you would need help in doing so. Alcohol and opioids would be his solution here, maybe hypnosis as well. 

[yantalia545]

Yandere America, Russia, England, Japan, and Austria ((and if possible China)) all find out that there darling is in head over hills in love with Prussia not caring if he's not a country anymore she loves him because he's awesome and makes her smile whenever he's around and one day hopes to merry him even ((oh and the darling is also a country too))

Since you asked so nicely, I wanted to get this out for you as soon as I could. I hope it's to your liking :) I'm a little stuck on China though and didn't want this post to be too long, so unfortunately I think I'm going to leave China out of this one.

Austria:

Honestly, Austria couldn't see how you can find Prussia to be more charming than him. Prussia was loud, unorderly, and just plain annoying. There were times when Austria was sure that Prussia was only with you in the first place to spite him. After all, the feeling of losing to Prussia was more than enough to create a strong sense of humiliation in him.

Austria however, won't let Prussia get away with this little prank of his this time. You may be fooled by Prussia's ways for now, but Austria is determined to make you see that he is a much better option for a woman like you.

He'll try to show you that he is much more mature and well-mannered through his works of art and music. People will begin to notice that Austria had placed a major hold on his duties in place of working diligently on creating the perfect piece just for you. He works tirelessly to string together just exactly how he feels about you into a perfect synchronized melody.

This will definitely create friction, not only between the three of you, but for anyone else affiliated with you three as well. There will be a division between who is cheering on who. On one hand, other countries feel for Austria and the hopeless romantic feelings he harbors for you. On the other, they were moved by your dedication to someone regardless of status. The remanence of that day when you proclaimed your love for Prussia against his own fears of not being good enough for you was truly heart wrenching.

Germany especially will be pulled into the middle of this dispute since he is their stronger, older brother, and both would want his support if things went south.

Not to mention, that Hungary is standing off to the side boiling with rage and jealousy. She feels as if you came in and took the man she loved so deeply. After all, she was married to Austria at some point and looked after him for many years. They may have only been married for political reasons, but she still held hope in her heart that one day Austria would wake up and find his feelings for her. Let's not forget that you decided to run off with Prussia of all people. Someone else who Hungary held deeply. She feels enraged thinking that you came in and stole her place in both of their hearts and is determined to make you pay.

All in all, this will definitely be one tricky and tense situation for anyone involved. There won't be threats of war since it's not really Austria's thing and Prussia doesn't have that sort of power, but fighting and heartbreaks between personifications are sure things to happen here.

What Austria is especially good at though is negotiations and political marriages. It wouldn't really surprise anyone, (but maybe Hungary), that he would try to solve this issue through marriage and would try time and time again to get you to sign a marriage contract with him. All in an effort to tie you to him and take Prussia out of the picture once and for all.

Japan:

Japan would be very conflicted over the matter and wouldn't know exactly what to do. Prussia is known to be a close friend of Japan and is even someone who he respects. Even so, he can't help but feel envious for Prussia winning your heart.

Japan hides his feelings for you well in an effort to congratulate his dear friend. However, he can't help the stinging in his heart whenever he listens to Prussia's blabbering about your relationship. Since the two of them are so close, Japan is very familiar with the struggles that Prussia went through before the two of you got together. He wanted to be happy for his friend, but why did Prussia have to be in love with you of all people? It felt like fate was against him here.

While Japan understands that the two of you are not very close and that you may not even realize that Japan has feelings for you in the first place, he can't help the irritation bubbling inside him at the fact the you love Prussia over him. He wants a close relationship with you so badly, but every time he's tried to approach you, he freezes up and becomes too flustered to hold any real conversations with you.

How can one help it when you just seem so beautiful and perfect in his eyes?

Japan just really wants to make sure to leave a good impression on you and gets too scared that he's going to mess it up. He was isolated from other countries for a few hundred years, so it's only natural that he's not the most in touch with socializing. He had hoped that you would have seen through this little barrier of his, but it seemed that you didn't and were swept away by Prussia instead.

He'd try to bury and contain his feelings for you in any way he could. But even so, it was like you had somehow pledge his mind. There will be many nights where he'd be alone and taken over by his bottled feelings for you and have a strong need to relieve these feelings. Japan will have a collection of various arts dedicated to you such as painting, secret manga series, and even wood carvings and dolls. It's a dirty secret of his that he makes sure is secured under lock and key.

Although, as the fate of all things kept secret, his feelings for you will one day slip.

Maybe he was tried after pulling another all nighter of making his latest masterpiece of you and was being visited by Prussia. He would just be going on about their relationship when Japan suddenly says something impolite and out of character for him. When he realizes what he had just said, everything pretty much starts to go downhill from here.

Japan may try to remask his feelings for you but it won't hold for long. Once the lid to his bottled emotions was loosened, there's no stopping the trickling of his true feelings. Once he realizes he's been found out about, (possibly finding his hidden collection), Japan will snap completely and play sorta dirty over you.

He knows that Prussia is in no position to protect you from any real danger and you're military is no where near his abilities. So Japan may just skip any actual economical scheming or threats of war and just up and kidnap you.

If the two of you are smart, then you'll know that fighting him would be near suicide. If not, and you choose to try to fight back or Prussia tries to receive help from his brothers, then Japan is always capable of threatening (and or) going through with his threats of destroying your country and your people. After all, if you're dwindled down to the same status as Prussia, then you really won't be able to do a thing against him.

England:

You choosing Prussia would annoying him like no other. He already saw Prussia as unwitted, prude, and just down right obnoxious. Like Austria, England wouldn't be able to wrap his head around how you could ever fall for someone like Prussia over him.

England was well educated, treated you very gentlemanly, and even spent mass amounts of effort to include your smaller country in high-end business meetings and trades that benefitted your country tremendously. Even so, you choose this glorified nobody over him.

Okay, maybe the way he treated you was a bit more glamorous in his mind than in reality, but he really is trying here. He'd try to compliment or help you, but he didn't want to seem too desperate or clingy and would insult you on accident instead. Those who were close to him understood his actual feelings but unfortunately, you were not.

As a result, It drove him obsoletely crazy when you confessed your feelings for Prussia in front of everyone.

At first, England could only sulk and throw insults your way. He'd go on and on about how you've sunk so low, or that you don't actually love Prussia and that the only reason you're with him in the first place is because you know you can't do any better than a nobody like him. When he said that last bit, he may have received a well-deserved bitch-slap... :)

As time goes on, England will only be seething with more rage and jealousy. Others close to him have tried and tried again to coax him into letting you go, but he's just too damn stubborn. Interference with your relationship from England in bound to happen eventually.

One day, England will get the most delicious idea he's ever had and he can hardly contain his excitement when he finally puts it all together. If you won't come to him yourself, then he'll just have to make you.

As a member of the great nations, he has a vast amount of wealth and power. Definitely more than you or Prussia combined. He can use this to his advantage and sabotage your reputation.

Do you get most of your resources from international trade? Well now he's overbought important recourses you buy so the prices are inflated or just unavailable. Are you a country of vast agriculture? Somehow there's been a deadly fungus taking over your crops and making it difficult to feed your people. The list of England's torment reaches no end.

You're not a wealthy country, so these handicaps he's created have made what little resources you could obtain from difficult to just downright impossible for you to possess. You'll become weaker and poor. Drained from the mass amount of pressures that England has created for you.

However, it's not enough for England to just be with you anymore. He passed that point a long time ago and is a man with a touchy ego. What he desires most now is for you to completely give in to him both country and self. So that you could never obtain the power to do something so vile against him ever again.

Russia:

These were truly grueling times for a lot of people. Russia was currently at his peak for power and seems to be occupying more countries with each passing day. Due to Russia's rise in power, it would only spelt disaster for you and Prussia.

The two of you had banded together during these difficult times so that life forced in Russia's house wasn't as bad. At least together, you and Prussia could find comfort in eachother during the small moments the two of you would to have together.

Russia was already all over you, as you were his favorite for seemingly unknown reasons. He'd call on you for just about anything; Bring his food, fix him his drinks at the end of a long day. Even just ordering you to keep him company on the days he has a lot of paperwork to do.

On the fateful day he finds out about your secret relationship with Prussia, all hell breaks loose.

There is no hesitation in Russia's actions as he quickly pulls the two of you apart. Not a single word is uttered from Russia as he starts wailing on Prussia with his metal pipe that he's seemed to pull from out of thin air.

Prussia will forever be haunted by the dead look in Russia's eyes. It was as if what little light Russia had left in his heart was sapped from his body. Leaving nothing behind but an hallow shell of a man. All you can do is cry as you helplessly beg Russia to stop. He was much bigger and stronger than you, so there wasn't much you could do to stop him.

When Russia finally notices you, his whole figure shift as if a fire had been lit inside him. He'll forget about Prussia in the moment and focus on how to punish you.

You did break his heart after all. You must pay.

Without a second thought, (or maybe without thought at all), he'll throw you over his shoulder and drag Prussia's batted form down to the cellar.

That was the last time you saw Prussia. You know he's still locked in the basement but you're unable to see him. Russia now has you glued to his side 24/7. You're forced to follow him in every activity he does no matter how mundane or secretive it is.

You're not in a position to deny him.

Even when Russia's power was slowly diminished and the others were freed, you seemed to be the only one that Russia could not stand to let go. Not even America could get him to budge.

Prussia would be forced to watch you sadly from the other side. Powerless and unable to help you escape from the loving prison Russia seems to have encased you in.

America:

Despite the fact the Prussia and America have a great bond with eachother, they're both still very competitive people. You're just the biggest thing they've competed over and neither of them are willing to lose this time.

It was well known by everyone that they both shared feelings for you. After all, neither of them are very secretive about their feelings and practically threw themselves at you whenever you're around. They'd actively try to outdo the other in an attempt to impress you. When the day comes that you openly choose Prussia over America, things become very awkward and tense.

America doesn't acknowledge, or rather, respect, the fact that you're in a relationship with Prussia. He won't only not back down from trying to show off to you at any chance he gets, he's now trying to tie the two of you together through contracts and alliances in hopes that he can persuade you into leaving Prussia for him. You've tried to tell him off many times and Prussia has even started fist fights in an act to get America to back off, but even that doesn't seem to shake his determination he has for you.

Like all the other nations in this post, America is well aware of the fact that Prussia is powerless in comparison to them and is going to use that fact to his utmost advantage; Regardless of how dirty and cruel it may seem. What America also recognizes is the fact that personifications are not like normal people and are forced to bend to the will of their people; Especially their bosses.

There comes a time where America realizes that if you won't give in to him and his wonderous ideas, then he can always go over you head and straight to the main head of your country. Your boss would be thrilled to make connections with America. Anyone would be really if they were only looking surface level.

America is the most powerful country there is with it's mass wealth, technology, and culture. It seems almost like a no brainer to your boss and signs you away without even a second opinion from you.

He sometimes will feel some sort or remorse over how your boss practically threw you under the bus in order to deepen his own pocket and makes sure the man pays some sort of penalty for it in the future. America also gives you a bit more freedom in this situation than he would in any other scenario with you.

America would treat you extra well and shower you in anything your heart desires. He even allows you to still attend meetings and retain any connections you had previously with other countries. Besides maybe a select few such as Prussia (obviously), Russia since he's not on good terms with him, and most likely Germany in fear that he may sympathize with you or his brother and meddle with all that America has done.

Life with him will be luxurious, yet stiffening as America slowly sinks his teeth further into your politics and international affairs to match his ideologies and goals.

[crimson-kisses]

Ok umm. Yandere god Canada, America, Russia, Austria, Germany, and France with a nature Goddess reader.

🤡💧anon ~

Technically, I have already done this ask in a way so this will only contain some drabbles!! Hope you liked it. Austria is a new one, tho!

Warning: Contains usual yandere themes, toxic relationships and the like.

Other works related to the au [post 1 || post 2 || post 3 || post 4 || post 5 || post 6]

Tangled vines

Canada || Matthew Williams 🇨🇦

Sitting atop a grassy hill, surrounded by vibrant blooming flowers, Matthew watches you with an admiring gaze. The calmness you give off brings a sense of peace to his soul, and he could spend hours simply observing your serene demeanor.

However, beneath your calm exterior, a storm rages within. Containing your seething fury, you make a decision not to show Matthew the extent of your anger. He had held you captive, subjecting you to his relentless beasts—creatures both mortal and immortal, magical and fierce.

His mighty wolves encircle you, seeking solace and warmth, as if yearning for a mother's touch. But you are far from their mother, yet you dare not push them away, lest you lose half of your body.

While your injuries may heal, the pain would prove burdensome, and that is the last thing you desire.

Matthew has succeeded in breaking your spirit through fear, ensuring your submission to his will. Meanwhile, delicate creatures flutter around you, drawn to the beauty of the blossoming flowers, as if inviting them into an embrace.

Sitting on the hill, you keenly sense Matthew's loving gaze upon you, his watchful eyes drinking in every detail of your presence.

"Your presence brings me a tranquility I haven't felt in eons,"

He murmurs, walking closer to where you sit, his hands clasped behind his back. He stalks towards you, paying no mind to the flowers crushed under his boots as he positions himself besides you. In his outstretched palm, a delicate butterfly finds solace.

His eyes, a shade of soothing lavender, gaze at you with a glint of delight. He reaches out, intertwining his fingers with yours, binding them tightly together. The fluttering creatures find respite around both of you, creating a delicate barrier.

You manage to suppress a shudder at his words, a bitter irony lingering in your mind. For he has brought you nothing but misfortune after misfortune. Trapped in this place, guarded by unfathomable creatures, you find yourself drained and wearied. His clinginess, has only soured over time, leaving you with a distaste that grows stronger with each passing moment.

At the very least, he hasn’t taken you far away from your domain.

America || Alfred F Jones 🇺🇸

The palace of the divine king stood in all its splendor, a spectacular sight of celestial marble adorned with magnificent statues. Pearls of various kinds adorned every corner, while golden rings encircled the ceilings, creating an ambiance fit for the heavens.

Yet, for you, it was a personal hell.

Alfred had positioned you on his lap, gripping you tightly as he attended to his duties and other matters, leaving you unable to attend to your own responsibilities. Your connection to your own domain felt distant, slipping through your fingers like sand.

There was no solace to be found within these walls.

But of course, Alfred was busy with showcasing you, parading you around, while purposely disregarding your legitimate concerns. It often felt as if he intentionally sought to provoke you, to ignite his wrath within you.

Perhaps that was exactly what he desired.

There is no piece or a leaf of your domain to be found near his castle, his territory, his domain, because his insufferable pride wouldn’t let that happen anytime soon. Instead, he to claim you as his, not as an another immortal being, but his wife, his woman, his lover. That’s the only identity you ought to have in his eyes.

Except for the garden, a sprawling expanse adorned with lush nature, you were forbidden to enter without his presence by your side. He would lead you beneath the thick foliage of the trees, that’s where he pleased you as he so wished, over and over again, until he was satisfied. The flowers bloomed with an ardent passion, glistening with dewdrops that adorned the garden like delicate jewels. It was a place solely dedicated to your pleasure, a sanctuary of sensory delights.

As if he was saying without telling, that even in this sanctuary you cannot have solace or peace without him by your side.

His hands were now inching towards your thighs, the dress slipping away smooth as milk as goosebumps raised on your skin, he stared at you with a lustful gaze, sitting between your naked thighs.

"It’s always a pleasure to be on my knees for you".

Russia || Ivan Brangisky 🇷🇺

He was more than aware that the frigidness of his domain did not suit you well and often clashed with the climate of your domain. Frost clung to your delicate skin, causing you to tremble ever so slightly in the face of the biting cold breeze.

He inhaled softly through his nose, a smile slowly spreading across his lips as he imagined you snugly wrapped in his coat, finding warmth and comfort within its embrace.

Sadly, you had politely refused.

Ivan set a steaming bowl of hot soup before you, urging you to partake as he settled into a seat across from you. His gaze, filled with intensity, roamed freely over your form, appreciating your beauty. You were indeed a stunning woman, a captivating sight that was truly a feast for the eyes.

He held a special fondness for the moments when you brought life and beauty to his desolate domain, watching nature bloom in all its loveliness and delight. It was a sight that touched his heart and filled him with a rare warmth, a feeling he rarely experienced within his own realm and in his life as a whole.

And it was precisely because of this profound connection that he felt compelled to carry out what he was about to do.

With deep violet eyes sparkling with delight and a hint of amusement, he watched as a vibrant cluster of sunflowers flourished around his house. Your cheerful laughter and radiant smile tugged at his heartstrings, bringing warmth to the depths of his being.

You were undeniably enchanting, blissfully unaware of the healing power you possessed. In your presence, the scars that tore at his heart and the wars that ravaged his immortal soul seemed to fade away.

It was you, and only you, who had the ability to mend the shattered pieces and bring solace to his troubled existence.

Austria || Roderick Edelstein 🇦🇹

Glowing bluebells sway delicately from fragile stems, emitting a soft, ethereal glow. As you run your fingers tenderly across their petals, a melodic serenade reminiscent of piano keys fills the air. With a sigh, you become aware that you are under the watchful scrutiny of keen plum-colored eyes.

You have long stopped caring about such things, focusing on the peaceful arrangements of nature around you, swaying with their own set of tunes which was such a joy to hear.

Emerging from his hiding place, Roderick would reprimand you about the seemingly chaotic music that resonates in the surroundings. Swiftly taking control of the situation, and in response to his commands, the flowers obediently bloom and unfurl themselves once more. The melodies that fill the air follow his guidance, harmonizing in a more orderly manner.

At the very least, you would be near your domain and Roderick, as much as judgmental he is about some things, whether it be how your too much of a carefree woman or being agitated by your chaotic domain, he had no qualms about separating you from your home.

You supposed you will take what you get, as he exclaims that it is now time for dinner and grabs you inside his mansion by gently placing a hand on your waist and demanding you to clean yourself up.

It wasn’t all that bad, you supposed with an exasperated look directed towards him and go ahead, to wash yourself up for dinner.

Germany || Ludwig Beilschmidt 🇩🇪

You swim around the extravagantly colorful reefs with a burst of speed as dozen fishes follow your trail. Playfully, you swirl around and watch as they circle around you, filling your heart with warmth unlike the cold water which was your home.

Your tail, looked like a part of the nature itself, scales glistening with shades of green, mimicking hues of lush moss that clung to ancient stones, delicate tendrils of seaweed and aquatic flora intertwined with the moss-like scales.

It shimmered vibrantly in the ocean, as you glided through the vibrant reefs, leaving a trail of luminous pearls in their wake, so you could be easily tracked by the Deity of the twelve Oceans.

You feel the sudden change of current in the ocean, as he swims near you skillfully, his powerful tail a deep shade of forest green, with a golden hue.

The water lilies swim above you, blooming in your presence as they gently make way for the sunlight to fall upon you both. Following your and Ludwig's command with perfect harmony.

"You have been wandering quite a lot, I can’t help but be worried about you. I suppose the pearls were a good idea after all".

Solemnly you nod, as the former giddiness you shared with the fishes fades away into an empty space in your chest. Ludwig takes your hand and together you both take a dive, deeper into the ocean.

The pearls would make a fine jewelry for a more fortunate woman someday, you think, as Ludwig can’t help but collect few in with his hands.

France || Francis Bonnefoy 🇫🇷

A necklace adorned with a delicate array of ethereal feathers, gracefully embraced your neck. In the mirror's reflection, you could see the reflection of Francis, dreamy expression adorning his face, captivated by your appearance.

You swiftly avert your gaze from his, he gently takes a hold of your hand, pressing a series of tender kisses upon the top of your knuckles, his affectionate gestures ascending to graze your neck.

You don’t bother saying anything, not that he would listen to what do you have to say. Staying still, as he presses kisses across your collarbone, his hands inching towards the sides of your bosom.

In your divine beauty, you stood as a celestial masterpiece, crafted from stardust that cascaded across the vast expanse of the universe. With a single glance, you effortlessly ensnared his heart, drawing him into a realm of enchantment from which he could never escape. Your allure was irresistible and mesmerizing, leaving him forever spellbound by your radiant presence.

His adoration for you knew no bounds. He was madly in love with every curves of your body, his hands tenderly skimmed through the strands of your hair, cherishing each delicate strand. A shudder comes through you as he pushes your dress down, and then presses a passionate kiss on your lips, hands grabbing whatever they could find.

You were the nature's most precious treasure, indeed.

[my2phetaliaheadcanons]

i really enjoyed your yandere allie’s being broken up with post! could you do one for a yandere 2p axis as well? thank you in advance :) sincerely, a yandere lover

(Y/N) stood in the doorway, a bursting duffle bag digging into her left shoulder while her hands tightly grasped the strap. Licking her lips, she murmured.

“I-I can’t do this anymore. We’re over.”

Japan: Kurai’s dull, garnet eyes slowly drifted from the paperwork on his dark, cherrywood desk to his Sakura blossom. He noticed the crystal tears that threatened to bubble over like an unspoken plea for mercy, terrified quivers that made her shake and tremble like a kitten left to die in the coldest December blizzard.

A shark-like smirk split his face as he cooed her pet name. “We have only three days until we are wed, do you really want to dishonor your family by calling it off?”

Trying to leave Kurai’s web is like trying to pull a live rat off a glue trap. He will manipulate you into staying by pulling at your sense of duty. It starts by mentioning all the people who will be disappointed should you two split. If you continue to insist that you are done. Then it will begin to get violent.

Kurai drags you with a bruising grip to a hidden white room, the door locking as he leaves you in isolation. For two weeks all you see is white, even the very food and dishes become that vile color.

At the lock’s click and hinge's squeak, you hoped in vain that Kurai had come to his senses. Finally letting you leave this hell. In reality, you saw red. A lot of red, of much so that he claimed it was to shine the honor that your ‘threat’ had tarnished.

Germany: Groaning, Luther popped his neck with a loud crack as he raised his scarred body from the worn, leather couch. His blond brow raised in a questioning manner. “What are jou talking about?”

He watched with cold, tired eyes as (Y/N) took a deep breath before forcing the horrible statement again from her throat like a lion cub’s first roar.

Chuckling, Luther shook his head as he held his out his calloused hand.

 “Come now, Kätchen. Let’s nap on it before we do anything.”

Shaking her head, (Y/N) backed up. She screamed a loud no, before sprinting down the hall. Her bag swung and bruised her hip as slammed against the wooden door and fumbled with the slippery knob.

The click of the locking mechanism quickly became a loud slam as the door was forced to close again. (Y/N) now frozen still from the man she was trying to escape.

“Vhat made jou think I was asking?”

Luther is quick to forgive. A simple bow to his demands will quell his anger in ways that could be used against him. IF, he wasn’t already suspicious of all behaviors leading up to your foolish declaration. The missing objects, full cardboard boxes hidden in the closet, and failed attempts at distancing yourself from him.

Your announcement is what causes the iron fist to finally drop.

Similar to the ‘fighting and married’ bit, he begins with house arrest while retrieving all the items you’ve sneaked out. Any found attempts of planning to escape will lead Lutz to become more controlling and to harsher punishments.

What makes it worse, is that even on the darkest nights, locked in the rusted, gilded cage and draped in heavy, silver chains, Luther will remain outside the door. Murmuring promises of a better life and love, if only you agree to stay and obey. Forever.

Prussia: It had been two weeks since Wilheim let (Y/N) go. Two weeks of hoping she would return, of hoping she would realize how deeply their souls were intertwined. Fourteen days he had been pained by a wounded heart, that felt like each weak beat may be its last without his Maus.

He could bear it no longer when he watched as she set off with another man. The bright laughter and innocent blushes told him all he needed to know. With the flutter of his cloak, Wilheim set out to reclaim what he had lost.

Wilheim���s long, blood-stained life has taught him a lot. One such lesson is the use of free will. He hopes by letting you go for a time that you will come back, but as the time goes on without even a text from you, Wilheim begins to crack.

His cracks start small by stalking and recording. But as he hears how happy you are to be away and the proud compliments from friends about escaping the abuse, they become large fissures within his psyche

The last straw is your attempt to move on. That was the night he drags you back once the date is done. Questioning you on why you would betray him, did the time you spent together mean nothing?

With eyes like a burning ocean, Wil will force you into a small cell. Its tight walls only allow you to stand or sit. As the days wear on, you’ll find yourself taking comfort in Wilheim by your own volition.

He is the only one to open the door. So, doesn’t he deserve your love?

Austria: Jon cocked his head in a similar fashion to his little bat. Observing her intently as (Y/N) shuffled. She, at first, might have thought it was cute until a demonic laugh erupted from his pale throat. Heavy heaves for breath causing his chest to sink in showing his ribs in the tight, red shirt before expanding outward like an organic balloon, that no one could properly fill.

“That’z a funny yoke meine Queen.” Jon wiped a tear from his red eyes. “But, vhile jou here, did jou pick a place for dinner?”

(Y/N) shook her head quickly and muttered a no. “I-I’m breaking up with you, don’t you understand that?”

A loud sigh came from Jon as he stood from the leather couch. His heeled boots clicked against the wooden floor as closed the distance on the cowering woman.

“Of course I do, but” he looked at his shiny, black polished nails. “if jou really vant to, zhen go for it. Juzt don’t be zurprized vhen zomeone dizappearz.”

Jon lives in an odd mix of delusion and reality. He will take the smallest acts of obedience and view it as you submitting to and loving him. Every moment of rebellion shows him how far he still has to go until you are ready to be his Queen of the Night.

Since, you’ve decided to walk out the front door, consider the threat now a prophecy. He will start with the disappearance of a close friend. At first, you may dismiss it, until a body is found and the red words ‘come home’ are painted on the alley wall.

During your mourning, you try to tell the police of the possible lead. That Jon may be the cause of it all. Yet, it all falls on deaf ears as they explain that man doesn’t exist.

You, wanting justice, decide to confront him and run to his home, expecting a fight. Instead, you find an open door that reveals a dark house. Stepping inside, you feel a cold chill and gasp as the door shuts behind you, locking you in. Before you continue your forced path forward, you notice the shadows move like dancing snakes.

A quick glance and scratching at the light switch reveal no working lights. You scream when you feel the first shadow latch onto your ankle. Attempting to pull you through the floor. Shaking and pulling doesn’t help as more attach, eventually pulling you into an inky blackness. Ensuring that Jon’s pale skin is the brightest thing you see in your world of eternal night.

Spain: Armando’s eyes slowly lifted from the stacks of paper in front of him. His quill rested limply against his rough fingers as he took (Y/N)’s form in wholly.

 He noted her straight lip tremble at its edges, the subtle scrapping of her nails over the nylon bag straps as his silence continued. She shuffled an inch back whenever he twitched or breathed too loud, before shakily regaining the lost ground. Though, she remained tense, ready to bolt at a moment’s notice.

His question shattered the silence like a hammer to a mirror.

“You want to leave me?”

“Y-yes, I do.” She nodded as her heels dug against the wooden floor.

“Well,” Armando stood before walking to a large glass and oak display case. His hand gripped the wooden handle as he opened it, reached in, and pulled out a large, silver axe. “I think that we should let a simple game decide our fate.”

This man isn’t going to let you go. End of story.

But! That doesn’t mean it will be a simple no with slices to disable your legs. No, Armando doesn’t work that way. He’ll have fun by forcing you to play a game, his favorite to be specific.  Axe throwing.

If you are one to see the dark side of his world from the beginning, then you’ll know that your chances are low, even if you have thrown axes before. He won’t play fair, offering damaged axes and using a target that is just a little too far out of reach.

Most likely, you were kept in the dark. Not fully knowing the amount of blood that stained his hands. Your axes are sharp, but the target itself is dry, hardwood. Your muscles were never meant to throw with the power to dent such a mass, and it didn’t. You could only watch in fear as Armando hit consistently a bull’s eye each time from a different angle.

Depending on how badly you lose will determine what comes next. If Armando absolutely destroyed you, then he’ll keep his punishment simple. A quick snip to one of your Achilles tendons and being locked in a room with minimal contact for a couple of weeks with only him to rely on will help subdue your fire without snuffing it.

If you presented a challenge to him, then it would be worse. A debilitating injury to hinder your chances of escape mixed with a strict schedule of labor on the farm and obedience training. This mix will drown any thoughts of rebellion, leaving behind a fearful shell of yourself that is easier to control.

Italy: The silence of (Y/N)’s statement reverberated off the walls as Luciano set his wine glass on the dining room table. His leather-gloved hands came together to intertwine as a chinrest while he leaned back into the wooden chair—a large grin on his face as he sized up his darling fiancée.

“What made you think that was your call? When you agreed to be mine,” He stood, slamming his hands down as he leaned forward on the table, the taunting smile turned to a vicious snarl in a mere blink. “It meant until the day the world stopped turning when Italia would be wiped off the map and forgotten about by the fragile minds of mortal men. NOT because you got cold feet! NOT W-“

“I NEVER AGREED TO THE BLOODSHED!” She sobbed; the dam of emotions finally bursting. “You are nothing more than a monster that feeds off the mutilated flesh of your victims. Always looking for an excuse to kill again!”

(Y/N)’s declaration shocked Luciano like he had been bitten by a hidden viper. His eyes were wide as his focus never left the woman he loved.

She backed up a few steps. Hesitance caused her frame to tremble, before she turned her back to him. “I’m leaving, goodbye.”

It was only a few steps before the sound of maniacal laughter accompanied the sound of whistling metal. 

(Y/N) gasped, before collapsing. As the laughter came closer, she saw three knives embedded within her flesh. All lay within her lower half, making the mere thought of running from the mad Mafioso impossible.

“Oh, Tesoro.” Her head snapped up to view the smiling Italian. “You’ll be staying with me forever.”

After your shouting match and injury, Luciano will decide it's time to retrain. After all, you’ve shown him that your loyalty was false. Nothing more than a piece of tin that needed to be forged into something stronger. Something steadfast.

He will take the time to rebuild you. Each step toward what he wants means healing, rebellion just creates additional injury. Eventually, you’ll either break into a creaked and numbed doll, or you’ll be the perfect wife, trustworthy enough to join Luciano in the flames.

Romano: (Y/N)’s stomach flipped as Fabrizio stepped closer, his questions ignored as she turned her back. She was ready to run, pushing her legs to their limit as she forced her stride to be at its max.

It wasn’t enough.

A small dart with a fuzzy tip, no thicker than the graphite of a #2 pencil and no longer than a standard ballpoint pen, had sailed into her thigh.

The mosquito-like sensation caused her to pause. Gingerly, (Y/N) tapped the object, before pulling it free. As she stared at it the world began to blur and sway. One dart became two, then four and more. Her attempts for balance failed as a numbing sensation crawled from the hit point.

Falling due to weakened legs, (Y/N) gasped as the marble floors caught her. She heard Fabrizio speaking, his voice muffled as blackness started to flood from her periphery. As the drug took its hold, the last thing she felt was the warmth of her devil’s hands.  

To Fabrizio, it was a sin to end the relationship. He has done so much for you; creating fabulous outfits, spoiling you with various luxuries, and most important of all gifting you something precious, his love. When you ended it, allowing him no time to rebuttal, he threw away his dramatic flair. A quick shot of a special sedative, and you’re down and out.

As you’re fainting, Fabrizio will give his monologue. He rants about how he won’t allow one of the purest things to grace him to just walk away. No, it was time you learned your place.

When you finally awake, the world feels off. Firstly, you’re upright with legs bound to steel bars. Secondly, it’s a new, strange room. Your stand is surrounded by glass-encased mannequins, all dressed in outfits from many different eras. Some outfits go back further than the Dark Ages.

A subtle tightening sensation on the chest would distract you. Taking away from the strangeness of the room. Looking down you would see a white, velvet corset with silver steel rivets. Your breath quickened as the constriction continued, while your arms felt paralyzed. Black spots would reappear in your vision as a hushed chuckle brushed against your ears.

“Mia Bambola, it’s-a time you learn to listen.”

[brianlesshetaliawritings]

hey guys. yknow whatd be funny?? if you pressed the little request button to this (new) sad virgin blog that probably cant write good hehafhahaehfuiafbu. what a loser amiright??

[gremlingottoosilly]

Maid-up problems (Konig x maid!Reader)

Konig goes to a maid cafe. Billions must perish. Tags and CW: yandere Konig, obsessive and creepy behaviour, Konig is a bit of a perv, colonel loser Konig, maids and maid cafes, general fluff, slight age difference, slight size difference, mostly from Konig's pov. AO3

— Welcome home, master. What your maid I get for you today, hm? König just died and went to heaven. Heaven consists of pretty girls running around in fluffy skirts, little aprons and putting on adorable headbands with white ruffles. Heaven filled with the smell of reheated pastries and pre-made snacks, with neutral sweet perfume and the stench of sweat from the customers. Heaven is filled with angels who run around in maid costumes and call him master – and all of this without going through the hassle of finding a cosplay-friendly prostitute in Vienna.

He honestly rolled his eyes the first time he saw the post about a new maid cafe opening in town. Horangi was the one to show him - the bastard didn’t even live in Austria and yet had followed all the news, maybe to only make fun of his colonel. He knows that the tiger has his dirty secrets too – ido girls, idol boys, some new band every week that he’d spend his paycheck to get all possible merch. Changing his gambling addiction to a k-pop one – all while his glorious commander is going crazy from the new maid hentai he just watched. Honestly embarrassing at his age…but he doesn’t care. He has money for the exclusive translations and elite figures – and he has some time on leave to visit the damn maid cafe. Then König meets you. He died, went to heaven and was greeted with an angel…no, a goddess. In a frilly apron, short skirt and adorable, albeit a bit embarrassed smile. You had your persona on – dorky and clumsy, useless little maid that customers liked to scold when you’d almost drop their drinks and then fake cry while apologizing. Some sadistic bastards like to play pretend by calling your manager while you’d beg for them not to. Some perverts with a hero complex would play into your pleads. König stares in awe as you drop the menu accidentally, not forgetting to show off your cleavage as you pick it up. Brushing it off with your finger, looking so tiny and shy…god, he fucking adores you already. — S…so sorry, master. Please, forgive me for dropping the- — It’s okay. Don’t worry, ja? 

He reaches for your hand, but you shoo it away. No touching – the cafe policy, as dumb as it sounds. He knows it’s for your own good, to protect you from perverts and creeps – but you shouldn’t be so scared about touching him. He would have to train you to do this after. nothing that a few touches of a good military discipline wouldn’t fix though – and he is very good at breaking down dumb recruits and annoyingly stubborn people. Oh. Right. He still kinda has to order. His gaze immediately flicks to the most expensive thing on the menu – an exclusive dessert, probably too sweet for his tastes. He will have to make do though – there isn’t much on the menu, certainly is zero alcohol so drunk guests wouldn’t harass the maid girls, and a tiny portion of an omelet with some ketchup hearts squeezed all over it certainly isn’t to his tastes either. No, König had his eyes – covered by glasses, of course, he didn’t want to show off his scars and the expression of a serial killer forced to work in mercenary forces to cute girls in ruffled aprons – on a different prize. You. 

And the exclusive photos and a hug from any waitress of the fine establishment that would come with this overpriced order. 

König has never seen the manager of this cafe, but he is ready to give them all money he has – just for implementing this feature into the menu. Just for selling off their girls to any customer who is willing to pay almost 50 Euros for a piece of a pretty regular cake and some coffee. 

You stare at his order for a few seconds, your mouth going agape. He is not hurt – it was weird, after all, for a guy like him to order something as silly as this. You’re probably weirded out, thinking that he accidentally put his finger on the order – but you know better than to ask again and risk him changing his mind. Your cafe gives off bonuses if guests want to take a picture with you so, naturally, you’re all smiles and nods, tilting your head to the side as you say, ever-so-sweetly, that you’d be back with his order. Now…is König ashamed of liking the pretty little maid so much? Not really, to be completely honest, he kinda adores having you around, and he’d pay even more for the opportunity to touch you. Too bad your cafe isn’t a front for some other body business – he’d be happy to raid it on the part of special forces and then save you from such a gruesome fate by making you his wife. 

König wonders if your cafe has themed days. Maybe catgirls, cosplay, maybe housewives. 

König wonders if he can get your number. Then his gaze falters to the reflection of his face in the screen of his phone – and, no, not going to happen. Not when he is fresh out of deployment, barely showered, and thrown a clean hoodie on which does very little to cover the smell of blood clinging to his body. It’s his cross to bear – his victims scratching at his ankles as the colonel sips on complimentary water from a pink glass and looks at all the other losers who coming to this fine establishment. 

You’re lucky it’s a slow day – if König saw you being so sweet and touchy with some other lousy customer, he might have shot the whole place up. Master does not tolerate his silly servant being so nice to others, after all. 

— Your coffee, master. 

He whips out a stack of bills already, way more than what he was supposed to pay even with the exclusive offer he ordered. Your mouth opens to stop him, to remind him of the actual price of everything – then he breaks whatever good intentions you had when he starts to speak, his voice muffled a bit because of his black surgical mask. 

— Do you have a boyfriend? 

Oh. 

Now, under normal circumstances, you’d yell for the manager to come and pick you up. You’d scream bloody murder and alert other girls and clients that you’re having a bad customer who is going into harassment mode very quickly – asking such personal questions at this place is something that shouldn’t be happening, no sir. Totally not happening. 

But…the work has been a bit slow lately. You didn’t get as many bonuses as you wanted to, and the rent is coming up, and the phone bill is getting more expensive…sometimes you just got unlucky and his a streak of customers not liking your particular archetype – so if this weird dude who is totally killing people in his spare time wants a bit more than usual service and is definitely ready to pay for it. 

You might have had a thing for guys in masks. Big, muscular guys in masks who looks like they can choke you with their thighs and then fucking destroy you. With money who can get you a bit closer to your savings goal. So, you’re not calling your manager, your friends, or the police. So, you play into the fantasy for a little bit, remembering all the acts your supervisors drilled into your head. — Of course I don’t, master. I’m here for you, remember? You smile and nod, hoping it will be enough. Hoping a guy like him could be satisfied with something as silly as this, something as tiny. You touch his hand a bit later, making sure to hold him for a while longer. A simple trick to enhance the amount of tip you can get – even tho you feel like playing with fire when you touch this guy so sweetly. 

And, oh, König is…done for. Smitten. Shot right in the heart through his cock, somehow. This man survived battle after battle, destroyed more small countries than there is letters in his real name, but he was defeated by a pretty girl in a maid outfit in a cafe made for incels and otaku wannabees. If any of his lower officers saw him right now, with ears and cheeks burning angry red, with his heavy breathing and obvious, but concealed by table hard-on, he would be done for. 

But, oh god, aren’t you just beautiful? 

Obviously embarrassed and maybe a bit shy – he thinks it’s probably just your persona, a way to milk tips from the customers who like to play dominant, but König doesn’t even need to play. He knows he’d have to take you by the end of your shift, whatever this time might be. He is not the best person for the romance job, but he’ll be damned if he let a pretty thing like you just run away like a silly girl you are. 

— Can I have your phone number? You want to say no, he can’t have your phone number. The guy smells of gunpowder and blood, looks like he is going to shoot the entire venue down if you disagree with him, and you do not want to die like a hero for a job that pays barely above minimum wage for the amount of public humiliation you have to endure to ensure good tips. The guy smells like danger and a bad time and a long conversation with your manager about the types of guests that they allow into this fine establishment. 

You want to say no and yell but, then again, there are multiple factors that are screaming against such rush decisions. A huge chunk of money he still has in his valet is, embarrassingly enough, one of the biggest decision-making points. — We’re not really allowed to give our phone numbers, master… His hand goes to his pocket. 

You’re not sure if he is touching his cock, his gun, or another stack of bills right now – but all of the options are kinda making you want to die before you can check your answers. It’s going to be bad either way, so you tilt your head to the side, trying to look as innocent as possible. 

— But I can make an exception! 

He actually startles, looking at you like you just agreed to marry him. You probably would, with enough bullet threats – but you still bite your tongue, not wanting to give the crazy guy an idea. You actually don’t know if he is crazy or not – but taking your chances isn’t something you want to do on a nice Monday dead work day. 

You can see relief in his eyes. A little wrinkles of smile, too – his mouth is covered by a mask, but you’re almost sure he is grinning like an idiot under this thing. Oh no…you just insulted a customer in your mind. It’s really bad for business. 

You write your number down and pass it right to his hand without anyone noticing…you hoped so, at least – you don’t want other customers to order the same special treatment and you know that the manager would have your head for overstepping the rules so much. No one would care that you’re saving this fucked up place from a massacre – they would only care about arbitrary rule-breaking. You lick your lips and smile as his hand lingers on you a bit too long. 

His hands are big and warm, too – you’re getting lost in the touch, as he carefully caresses the back of your palm with his thumb. He is…surprisingly tender. As much as a killing machine can be tender, of course – but you do appreciate a softer, milder touch. You do appreciate his hands on your body, caressing it softly and maybe even leaning you for a kiss and a quick…

Oh god, what are you thinking. You need to stop, immediately. 

He pulls from his table suddenly and you almost feel like you fucked up, somehow. Maybe he did wanted something a big more than what you were willing to give, maybe this guy wanted you in a way that was not friendly for the cafe – but he swoops you by your waist before you could say anything before your hands could go upright and smack him – and you stop right before hearing him saying the dreadful words. The words you wished he wouldn’t have enough money to say. 

God, this is hopeless. 

— Can I get my special offer now? 

König makes it sound like the special offer would include you on your knees, choking on his cock. König makes it sound like it would include you on your back, taking pounding from him while he tugs on your dumb apron and tells you to cry for your master. König makes it sound like the short skirt of your outfit was not covering you enough, he makes it sound perverted, horrible, utterly despicable, he makes it sound like…

God, he doesn’t have enough self-control for you. 

You just…look so scared. Nervous. You play with the fabric of your costume in your hands as the other maid – some faceless pretty thing for him, with his eyes glued to your side anyway – was making pictures. Polaroid, is overpriced for a couple of photos he will get…but he doesn’t care if he has to blow off an entire contract bonus if that means getting some bonus from you. 

He gets to hold your waist and it’s so easily to imagine digging his fingers to your sides as he fucks you with as much passion as he could gather. It’s easy to imagine his cock pumping into you, your tummy bulging from the sheer size difference between you and him – poor thing, you’d probably be terrified as he would force himself onto you. Maybe you’d clutch your little apron adorably and beg for him to stop. Maybe you’d ask him to be rougher and more passionate – to make you his in all sorts of ways. He just…he can’t imagine not taking you home after this. 

He hugged you, it’s basically a marriage proposal already. 

You try your best to ignore the way his hand slips down, almost to the point of groping your ass. You ignore it, the girl who is taking the pictures ignores it too. No one wants a scandal, no one wants to point this out – everyone knows how tips are made here, and you sure as hell won’t be putting yourself in danger just because you feel his giant hand fondling you through the fabric of your silly dress. You forgot the protective shorts too - so there is only a matter of underwear and skirt between his hand and your ass. 

Somehow, the sensation isn’t as terrible as you want it to be. Somehow, you feel like tips aren’t the only thing that keeps you from screaming at him. 

König died and went to heaven – this much is obvious. He is taking a picture with a pretty girl, he touches a pretty girl in maid's suit and she doesn’t even say anything to him. He just went out from a successful contract that would keep his pockets full for a few months and went straight for his savings, and he killed more people than the last week – god, life is fucking beautiful. He fondles your ass with his hand, other is awkwardly limp to his side, and he already knows that he will be a regular here. 

He hates getting his pictures taken – it’s normal for people in his line of work, being a mercenary and a socially active person isn’t something wise if you don’t want an enemy finding out where you live, but he doesn’t really care anymore – he will keep the pictures with you, hold it in his wallet and put a spare one in his vest pocket. You can be his little guardian angel, the pretty girl who is waiting for him to return. 

And he does have your number with him. 

— Are you happy with the pictures, master? 

You tilt your head and König forces down the urge to squeeze your cheeks and kiss you. They way you say this, the way you call him master – he simply can’t resist, not when you’re too fucking adorable to miss out on. He knows it’s inappropriate, he knows you’re just working here, but it doesn’t stop him from leaving a hefty tip and making sure you know exactly what made him leave so much. 

God, he can’t wait to make you his. 

König wonders if you’d agree to wear a skimpier outfit once you’re at the safety of his house. 

[konigsblog]

tw: non-con, yandere, kidnapping, royalty au. 18+

König who kidnaps the princess of Austria, you.

He's a total loser, he lives down in the village, jerking off all day to perverse thoughts about you. You rot his old, corrupted mind and eventually, König can't hold himself back from snatching you away.

No one comes looking for you, or at least that's what König tells you. That's you're unloved, that nobody cares nor wants you. That you're nothing but an inconvenience to people's lives. He's just helping out the king and queen by snatching away their little doll. He'll allow perverts and sickos like himself to have turns with you, after he's had his fun taking your virginity.

He expected the Princess to be a virgin, to be inexperienced all because of her father's protectiveness. He wasn't wrong, your pussy was almost suffocating, addictive. Now, here you are, cock-drunk off of the new sensation that you're unfamiliar with, whimpering into the concrete as another man takes turns using your holes. He makes lots of money off of his business, but soon enough, he shuts it down to have you for himself.

You're a prized possession, something so unique and rare. :(

[diejager]

I can request yandere! König and yandere Ghost?

She used to be a soldier before she was kidnapped by them, so she uses what she learned to beat them and escape from that room she was locked in.

Although she can't find the exit

No Escape Cw: DARKFIC, kidnapping, yandere, possessive behaviour, obsessiveness, nonconsensual drugging, basement wife, tell me if I missed any.

You learned that compliance was a better choice in this situation, having fought tooth an d nail against them only to be punished and had your privileges taken away from you. You started in the basement, waking up confused and disorientated, throat dry and head heavy from the substance König and Ghost used to drug you. You trusted Ghost, having worked with him so often - too many to count on both your hands and feet - and learned to put your trust in him to watch your back and protect you.

You, however, couldn’t say the same about König, you didn’t trust him, he was the enemy, someone you and Ghost had fought so many times, shot and wounded time and time again —only for him to come back stronger, more determined and more dangerous. Yet they worked effortlessly together rather than fight on every decision, they’d work through their differences, barked and fought but they clung to the thought of having you to themselves. It was the driving force behind their cooperation.

They took you, locked you away in the darkness of a home in Austria (an idea they both agreed to, Austria was farther and calmer, less populated and you wouldn’t be able to get help if you escaped, a stranger to the country’s spoken language) until they deemed you compliant enough to let out. You threw snide remarks, leering comments and a disrespectful and bratty attitude to push the act, to have them believe you weren’t thinking of playing them.

You were punished for every act of noncompliance, Ghost was cruel but he didn’t beat you, he used words and training —dog training, to train the disobedient mutt out of you. He did just enough to stop you from always biting, but never too much that you lose your feistiness, the aspect that made keeping you interesting and fun. König was more direct, holding you down and making you listen to him, he went without beating or training you. He had firm hands and he knew how to use them, praising you whenever you did something well and giving you privileges like going to the bathroom, showering alone, taking a walk outside or sleep in a bed.

Compliance had worked so far, they were lost to the domesticity of having a soldier turned housewife cook for them, care for them and give yourself to them. They had grown so used to having you at their beck and call, giving you whatever you wanted: books, food, a bed, a Tv, but never your freedom. That was something you had to work harder for, to pull them deeper into the delusion of your love and subservience towards them. You went unsupervised for long periods of time at home, leaving the doors locked and windows shut whenever they left.

And today seemed like the right time to move, you’d been warned by Ghost that they would be gone for a while for a joint mission (SpecGru and KorTac had somehow formed an impossible alliance), leaving you home alone with enough food and ressources to last a year. You watched them leave, their cars driving out in the distance and disappearing behind the trees once they turned the corner. You waited an hour, and hour of patience in case they came back for an emergency or because something in the plan changed, but you didn’t hear the tell-tale sound of car engines or the imposing steps up the porch.

You scoured the house, eyes roving over every little crevice and hands feeling the walls for any weaknesses. The windows were bolted shut and the grates made of hardened iron that were simply too sturdy for you to cut through without the right equipment, and the doors were locked from the outside, both men holding the only copy of the key. You wanted to keep forcibly unlocking the door as a last ditch effort because it would take more effort than needed to pry it open. So you searched the house, up the attic and down the basement, and their individual offices, who unfortunately had every drawer locked with a master key.

As you broke apart a few pins to make a lock pick, you heard two cars drive up the driveway, the loud rev of the engine and the angered slam of a door. You cursed, swiftly moving down the stairs and into the hidden corner of your reading spot, hidden by the arch between the indoor porch and the kitchen, away from the entrance’s sight. You hadn’t prepared for them to come back home —a mistake. You’d picked a random book, flipping through the pages and acting as if you spend the time reading, hoping that they wouldn’t grow suspicious.

“Come here, love,” there’s a dark edge in his done, a deep and angered growl. “Now.”

They knew. Not only were you too late, but you were caught as well. You’d lose all your freedom, your privileges and your soft affection, replacing them with the cold and damp air of the lonely basement. You bit your trembling lip, stopping yourself from spitting at them and worsen your punishment. You felt their disappointing and wrathful gaze without looking at them, it oozed off their broad shoulders in waves.

“You know what you’ve done, ja, Bärchen?” König sounded more disappointed than mad, his tone on the edge of condescension, his blue eyes dimmed with sorrow.

Ghost was quick to grab you, handling you roughly against his chest, gear and vest scrapping your skin. He had you down the basement stairs and chained to the mattress in seconds, a leather collar wrapped around your neck. He scruffed you, pushing your nose into the musky bed and thin sheet of your new room, glaring down at you with deep browns, his chest puffed with angered breaths and throat rumbled with menacing growls.

“You’re stayin’ here until we see you’ve learned your lesson.”

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @havoc973 @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @danielle143 @dont-mind-me-just-existing-sadly @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @kaelysia @notspiders

[yanxidarlings]

MASTERPOST

HETALIA

WRITINGS

newer works for hetalia

GENERAL HEADCANONS

latin america, mongolia

older works for hetalia

GENERAL HEADCANONS

america, australia, prussia, romano, turkey, finland, ukraine, england, nordics

INDIVIDUAL SCENARIOS

shy with america

superhero-esque with america

platonic yandere with america

daydreams with america

uncivilised with england

victorian poc with england

childhood friend with hong kong

GROUP SCENARIOS

heartbroken with the axis

disappointed with the axis

anxious with the axis

unhappily married with the allies

aroace with the allies

lesbian with the allies

refusing to eat with the allies

insecure with the nordics

sickly with the italy brothers

pugnacious with the german brothers

psychopath with eng-ita-ame

androphobia with eng-spa-can

otome with ger-eng-ame

bosses relative with ger-eng-ame

sociable with ger-eng-rus

sharing with ger-eng-pru

lovestruck with ger-swe-spa

reciprocated yandere with rus-ame

rejected proposal with rus-ger

VERSUS SERIES

austria vs switzerland

ukraine vs belarus

hungary vs romania

england vs romania

russia vs germany

america vs russia

america vs germany (p2, p3)

norway vs iceland

hong kong vs south korea

greece vs turkey vs egypt

YANDERE ALPHABET

D,M,Z with america

F,H,I with america

C,D,H with prussia

D,A,Y with australia

J,Q,U with the baltics

D,W,Z with ame-can-fra

X,S with eng-ger-rus

F,L,M with eng-pru

B,J,T with rus-ame

E,K,R with ice-jap

A,P,Y with hk-tai-mac

YANDERE DISCUSSION

unrequited yandere

warmonger

fake broken

UPCOMING

the draft has been started

romano and prussia sharing a darling

male belarus, ukraine and russia sharing a darling

latin america sharing a darling

general yandere asia

list of old inbox requests i might get to oneday

here

HARRY POTTER

WRITINGS

POLY SLYTHERIN SERIES

sharing, individual headcanons, bully! slytherins, obscurial! reader

POLY HEADCANONS

mattheo & theodore, mattheo & blaise, cormac & zacharias, ravenclaw boys

GENERAL HEADCANONS

zacharias smith, anthony goldstein, cormac mclaggen

UPCOMING

the draft has been started

boggart reactions of slytherin, ravenclaw and hufflepuff boys

list of inbox requests ill get to oneday

here

THE WALKING DEAD

WRITINGS

GENERAL HEADCANONS

chris manawa

POLY SCENARIOS

daryl and merle, bromigos

LIST OF CHARACTERS I WRITE FOR

RULES FOR REQUESTS

[urm0o0m]

Synopsis: You come back home from work to find a note on your front door. The note contains some disturbing things that no one would know unless they were following you.

Content Warning: Yandere(?), fucking in the forest, boot humping, fear play, blackmail (?), chasing, Mdom!, brain rot, AFAB sub!, rough mdom receiving oral, biting, breath play and creampie. 𓂃 ࣪˖ ཐིཋྀ

y/n is getting ready to enter her house on a Friday evening when she sees a note on the door. “Get dressed in that pretty skin tight dress that you have and when the sun sets, meet me in the woods behind the house.” y/n looks at the note, puzzled and notices words on the back. “The one you wore to the club a week ago - Secret Admirer” y/n’s eyes widened. A week ago she was in Austria. 

y/n knew no one down there but she went for a little vacation. She hadn’t told anyone where she was going either. y/n unlocks her front door and walks inside. She drops her bag and loosens her work tie. y/n removes her shoes and puts on her house slippers before texting her best friend, asking what to do about the admirer when she notices something peculiar. y/n sees something she recognizes.

 Not something that belongs to her. But to a male that she had hooked up with while in Austria. It was a stained glass vase sitting on her coffee table.  When y/n had gone back to her hook-ups place she had commented on a beautiful stained glass vase. He said “One of a kind” but this one had blood on it. There was an envelope propped up on it. y/n grabbed the envelope. 

Inside it held a polaroid picture of her best friend tied up and being held captive. The caption to the polaroid said “I’ll see you at sunset” with a poorly drawn heart. y/n’s heart sank to her stomach and saw that the sun was close to getting ready to set. She quickly rushed up the steps, desperate to save her best friend. y/n gets to her room and there is another note.

 “Make sure you get yourself prettied up properly for me and not like how to did it for that man. He was weak. I’m better for you Doll <3” With shaky hands y/n applies some make-up, curling her hair and putting on some clear lip gloss. y/n walks down the steps, black with red bottom heels in hand before slipping them on and walking out your back door and into the woods. 

As y/n walks it sounds as if there are speakers in the woods and the song “Eat Your Young” by Hozier is playing around her. A twig behind her snaps. Her head whips around only to be met with the sun in her face. “It’s golden hour” y/n says softly as she continues to walk when another twig snaps, this time to the right of her. y/n looks that way when suddenly a bright light flashes at her. 

“Somethings not right,” She mutters to herself. Someone exhales on her right ear. “Run” y/n shudders and begins running north. Every time she slows down it's as if she hears someone breathing heavily right behind her, causing her to pick up her pace. With her lungs and calves burning, she makes it to a clearing which reveals a cliff behind her house and she turns her back to the water and looks at the way she came from. 

y/n collapses onto the ground breathing heavily and observing her battered state. Heels lost in the forest whilst running from her pursuer. Hair a mess. She realizes her make-up is probably messed up too. After convincing herself she's just driven herself wild and that no one was there. She turns to look at the sunset and someone grabs her by the waist.

“Got you~” The white haired male says. y/n attempts to break free from his grasp while yelling “Who are you?!” His smile falters. “You don’t remember me?” His grip loosens and she releases herself and just stares at him. He removes his blindfold and says “I-It’s me!” The man says, beautiful eyes staring into her soul. y/n takes a step back, fear plastered all over her face.

 “I-I’m sorry I don’t know you” He shakes his head. “No no that’s not possible. You have to remember me. It’s me Satoru” Gojo says, desperately trying to get y/n to remember him. The name sets y/n off. “Satoru? As in Satoru Gojo?” Satoru’s smile re-appears. “So you do remember me!” y/n blushes. “I couldn’t forget you if I tried. We went to high school together. I h-had a crush on you” His head turns to the side. “Had?” Gojo asks. 

Things begin piecing together for y/n and she says “Wait where is b/n?!” He scoffs. “Why are you worried about them right now?” y/n’s brows furrow together. “Did you kill that guy from Austria?!” Satoru groans, rubbing his temples in frustration. “They don’t matter right now Doll” Satoru steps closer to y/n and she steps back, closer to the edge. Satoru grabs y/n’s hand and pulls her closer to him, their bodies touching.

 Gojo leans down and whispers in her ear. “I can feel the heat radiating off of your dirty cunt. You enjoyed being chased, didn't you?” y/n’s head turns to the side, ashamed of her body betraying her true feelings. I bet you’d like it if I took you right here. Wouldn’t Doll?” y/n nods slowly and he chuckles. “My my. I’m sorry Doll. I didn’t even get a chance to compliment you. You look so beautiful right now” 

She scoffs. “I look like a mess,” Gojo nods. “But the look on your face, the way your dress is torn, revealing your f/c thong. You wanted this to happen didn’t you? Putting on such slutty panties for a stranger” He pulls y/n by her hair, forcing her head to the side and he bites her neck and she lets out a soft moan. Gojo’s hands make quick work of her dress, ripping it at the seams and slipping it off of her. 

y/n gasps, not expecting him to do that. Satoru lays the dress out on the ground and has her sit on it. Gojo then unzips his pants, takes his cock out of his boxers and says “Open” y/n obediently opens her mouth and he slips himself into her mouth. “Fuck your mouth…It’s better than I imagined” He slides deeper inside of her entering her throat and her eyes water as he brings her head to the base, her nose touching his crotch. 

Satoru groans, trying to find his footing and his shoe brushes against y/n’s clothed clit. y/n moans around his cock and he chuckles. “So desperate for some pleasure” Gojo says, pushing his foot up into her cunt as he beacons her to grind against his boot and she follows his lead. Satoru begins picking up his pace and watching y/n grind against his boot, occasionally applying pressure. 

Gojo slips his cock out of her throat and y/n coughs, trying to regain her breath only for him to shove himself back inside of her mouth. y/n whimpers, feeling her breath caught in her throat as Gojo continues his assault on her mouth. He pulls out once more and flips y/n onto her stomach, alining himself up with her cunt. y/n wiggles her ass in the air and he chuckles before slapping her ass.

 “So eager to be filled with my cock aren't you?” y/n shudders. “Please Satoru,”  Gojo laughs. “As you wish Darling” Satoru slammed himself into her, pulling her body up to have her back pressed against his chest. She moans loudly and he bites her ear before reaching around with his free hand, rubbing her clit.

 y/n’s head clouds with lust as she completely forgets about her best friend, the blood stained vase in her living room and her supposed crush from high school fucking her in the forest in her backyard. He stops rubbing her clit and Satoru’s hand makes its way up to her throat, fingers wrapping around her throat and squeezing harshly, cutting off her air. y/n’s legs begin to shake as her orgasm builds up. 

“S-satoru! G-gonna make me c-c-cum~” Gojo laughs. “Don’t you fucking dare cum. I want you to cum with me Darling” He says, grip tightening around her neck as his pace grows faster and she gasps for air, trying to regain some slack on her neck to breathe. She fails to do so and she whimpers as Satoru continues to fuck into her cunt. Gojo smiles, biting her ear and his dick twitching inside of her.

“Do you wanna cum with me Darling?” y/n tries to nod but Storu’s hand holds her neck in place. He bites her neck, leaving dark marks in the place of his mouth. “Go ahead. Cum for me Doll~” When Satoru says those words he releases y/n’s throat allowing her to take a deep breath in and screams out in pleasure. y/n’s screams tips Gojo over the edge of ecstasy and he releases inside of her before letting go of her body, allowing it to fall the rough ground beneath him. y/n whimpers, cunt tightening around nothing as the sun had already set. 

“I love you y/n. No one can get in the way of our love for each other <3"

Word Count: 1,562

[shini--chan]

Can I have the reader insulting the axis members using ✨historical ✨ facts to make them feel guilty on purpose? Similar to that Prussia ask?

Oooo this is a nice one. Serving coming right up. This will be excluding S.Italy this time,

Yandere Axis - National Guilt

Austria

"Says the one who locked thousands in concentration camps", you snapped at him. That made Roderich halt, the sandy ground crunching beneath his hiking shoes. 

"Do you really want to discuss the Nationalsocialitsts with me? I'm not the right person for that - go pester Ludwig instead", he shot back, not even deigning to look at you as he said that. The cheek he had, to even resume walking!

You ran after him. At this point, you were just so furious - about his arrogance and self-righteousness, about how he always evaded questions and played other verbal spiels. 

Grabbing the sleeve of his coat, you yanked him back. 

"Don't you realise that I'm talking about you, and things that only you have done? I'm talking about your crimes, your sins that you refuse to repent", you spat at him, your voice becoming louder with each further word. 

This time, he turned to you fully. His hands were trembling with rage and a nasty sneer graced his lips. A bad omen, if anything. 

"Are you one of those that constantly brings up the fact that Hilter was Austrian? If so, I strongly recommend you cease talking about things you don't know. He was the Chancellor of Germany, and died German. The place of birth is trivial in contrast to the morals a person adopts."

"I didn't even have the Holocaust in mind, or the Second World War. Instead, I'm talking about the First World War, and some of the horrible things you did then", you hissed. 

This caused him to frown. While you had gotten better at discerning his masks from his genuine expressions, at the moment you couldn't tell if he was scrunching his eyebrows due to honest confusion, or just as a ploy to throw you off. Eitherway, it wouldn't hurt to remind him what you were implying. 

"What about all those Ukrainians from Galicia you brutally killed in the Thalhofer concentration camp, just because you were afraid that they were working for the Russian Empire?"

As a general rule of thumb, Roderich would seek to avoid confrontation because he views it as boorish and uncultured. However, that doesn't mean he isn't prepared to go head to head to get what he wants, or to defend himself. If anything he can become very nasty and aggressive once a confrontation starts, and doesn't shy away from delivering low-blows, be they verbal or physical.

In total, he tends to be cautious, so once you start he'll do his best to make you shut up or flip the argument around and corner you. Best knock his opponent down before the latter has full wind in their sails. Aside from that, he has counter arguments prepared for the most usual arguments, so it would best to come with a critique he hasn't heard off yet. 

Germany

"Why are you so scared of me?"

The question came suddenly, and broke you out of the uneasy reverie you had fallen into. Reluctantly, you stopped tracing the rain droplets racing down the car window and turned to watch Ludwig. 

Despite being the driver, he had turned his head to look at you. Generally, you had become used to the fact that he was a very irresponsible driver and no longer took offense at it. Perhaps one day he'd crash and then could run away. 

"Why on earth should I be scared of you?", you murmured. The sun is just a red line on the horizon and after the long day behind you, you are so tired. You don't want to have a row, but Ludwig has a special talent to get on your nerves. 

It is a difficult topic that he has broached as well, thus you have even less motivation to address it as it is. Would short answers make him eventually leave you be?

"Don't take me for stupid, I can see how uneasy you are around me. While I might be lacking in social skills, even a blind fool would notice how you stumble over words or shy away from looking me in the eye when we talk", he reprimanded you. In a rare show of anger, he flexed his hands holding the steering wheel.

"Are you scared of me because of what I did in the past?"

At that statement you had to laugh. Ludwig could be hilarious without intending to be, with how he suffocated himself with guilt and drowned himself in attempts of humility. Your laughter made his eyebrow twitch. 

"To correct you - I detest you, in regard to the past, based on all the times you turned a blind eye when you could have helped and made a difference. Like when you sent escapees back to that cult in the Andes", you retorted. "They were your own citizens, yet you sent them back to the hell that was Colonia Digndad."

The irony here is that the guilt that Ludwig stews in everyday can make it harder to reach him. The reason for this is that his internal monologue is at times harsher than anything you could say to him. As such, he would either brush your arguments off due to them being milder than the ones he knows. Or he'll take to heart, and try to make it up to you. Though that wouldn't automatically mean he'll release you. Or he'll repent for his sins in church or through community service. 

Of course, there is the chance that he'd break down if you continue attacking him and forcing him to confront his past mistakes. However, him breaking might not lead to the best outcome - you could cut yourself on the shards. Ludwig snapping could manifest as him locking you away, or even killing you.

Italy 

Feliciano had a sour expression on his face, which was surprising, especially since the two of you were in public. Granted, he had booked a table on the indoor balcony of the restaurant - a private setting in a public place. Nevertheless, even this would usually be too public for him to discard his carefully crafted masks. 

“You are simply too simple-minded to understand that things were different back then. Do you think that you would have been better if you had lived back then”, he countered, in an uncharacterized serious manner. If anything, this whole conversation had been out of the ordinary. 

Over time, you had learned that one Feliciano Vargas had many sides to him - playful, prideful; sometimes self.righteous but always very sly. 

You set down your desert spoon with more force than necessary. “My point is that you haven’t changed since then. You are still a snake that speaks with a forked tongue. At the end of the day, you care more about your wallet than anything else. Despite everything that has happened, you are still a city-state at heart that hasn’t grown out of his barbaric way, and not a nation that is worth taking seriously.”

Perfectly plucked eyebrows shot upwards in surprise. You would have been fooled if you hadn’t been acquainted with him so well, you would have missed the way of how the muscles around his mouth tightened. That was when you knew that you could count yourself lucky that you were in public. 

“And yet, here I stand, while others have fallen.”

“Why that, other than that you’re a treacherous weasel?”

Arguing with Italy might make him more serious and the two of you could end up having a serious conversation. What would happen, if that you would end up talking in circles, with him employing so many verbal traps and stalling tactics that you’ll end up either getting a headache or tearing your hair out. If you really want to trip him up, then you would need a third party pitching in, or get him inebriated and sad.  

Interesting enough, this would be one of the “misbehaviours” that you’d be punished for - he doesn’t need you thinking that you can paint him as a criminal or colonialist. He’s taken so many steps to steep his previous misdemeanours under the rug; he doesn’t need you dragging skeletons out of the closet.

Japan

“Please go make some tea. You apparently don’t have enough to do”, he mumbled, without even looking up from his book. It honestly made you feel very pathetic, this whole situation made you feel very pathetic. You weren’t even having a fight, it felt more like you were a lunatic that was screaming at the wall. 

“Oh, so now I’m some servant to you. Bet it was like that during the Second World War for you too - just kidnap some locals and force them to work in your manor”, you hissed, and didn’t make a move to go to the kitchen. 

In some ways, you even wished for him to shout at you in turn - it would have made you feel less childish. As it was, you had started hurtling insults and arguments at him for the last half hour, and the only way he acknowledged you was through non-committal replies and half-hearted answers. 

“I was too busy in the military at the time to have a manor. Now hop along.”

To him, the way to win the game would be not to play in the first place. So he would simply not participate in the conversation and let you shout and rant at him until you are blue in the face and tire from your self-appointed mission. Should you strike a weak spot, then he would make you leave or he would dismiss you and leave the room. 

It is not that he wouldn’t feel pain or anger from your words - it is just that he would elect to remain stoic and let you think that nothing you say can really get him. You don’t teach your opponent how to wage war, so he would go to great lengths to conceal such weaknesses from you.

[konigsprinzessin]

donnerkeil. part two, yandere!könig x reader

likes, comments, follows ect are all greatly appreciated! 

the first time he laid his eyes on you, his once cold heart began to pound a little faster. his social anxiety seemingly leaving his body behind. you were entering the market, your beautiful hair bounced against the morning golden sun. you walked over to one of the vendors as könig walked behind you, picking up on your accent and otherwise poor german skills. clearly, you weren't a native speaker from around here. he knew that he needed to act fast, who knows when you’d be leaving to go back to your home country. 

from his peripheral vision and occasional inconspicuous glances he would briefly watch you study the candles you picked up and examined. he couldn’t tell what the first one was, second was lemongrass and the last one was lavender. you took a liking to that one as you paid the fare and placed the candle in the basket you held. 

könig played with the honey jar he held whilst mindlessly listening to the vendor explain the fine details in the ingredients contained in the honey, trying her hardest to scrape a few euros out of him. he placed the jar down and picked up a bigger one with a pink gingham ribbon around it, similar to the one in your basket. 

you moved one vendor down. only one away from könig. his heart was racing. how perfect this was. all you needed to do was move down one vendor and he could strike a conversation up with you.

 a natural conversation of course. 

not a conversation he was replaying in his head. 

you picked through a collection of soaps and flowers making careful purchases with each. 

until you say your goodbyes to the seller and moved. you walked to the vendor on the opposite side of the gravel road. you were behind him on the other side of the street. 

he missed his opportunity. quickly, könig said his thank yous and put the honey back in its respective place it was in before. the vendor you were stood at was a vendor from a small family run bakery. he liked their baked goods and he knew the person at the table.

fuck it. 

he walked over to an open spot to stand beside you. he gave you a greeting in german with a smile painted across his lips now fully being able to see your face and your perfect features. he would kill everyone within a mile just to hug you for mere seconds. you returned the greeting with a meek wave, filled with nervousness. in your hands was a topfenstrudel wrapped in a plastic sheet held together with a black zip tie. könig made a positive comment on how lovley the pastry was (especially when warm) nodding towards the boy running the booth. that comment alone convinced you enough to purchase it. 

“ihr sachertorte ist auch gut” he paused before speaking again, “magst du sachertorte? he smiled, picking up a container with the famous austrian pastry placed inside. 

you hummed in confusion with a puzzled look on your face. “was ist sachertorte?” and his suspicion was right. how could you not know? foreigner. 

“it’s a chocolate cake. native to austria.” chuckling, he gave the seller the requested amount of euros for cake. “you’re not from here, huh?” he placed the cake in a bag given to him then turning to you. “perhaps i can show you around more...later on”.

[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.

[my2phetaliaheadcanons]

Hello! Can you please write about the 2p Axis (btw I especially love your writings about 2p Italy and 2p Romano! Love, love,love!) about the darling ask of the escaped and vanished for about a year and then one day they see them out in public ? Please and thank you for all that you write, it makes my day better ,always.

I don’t think I can iterate how thankful I am for how patient you guys are when you get your asks done.

The popping of colorful, confetti from their paper cannons and the cheers of a crowd full of delight rang out like the happy howls of a wolf pack.

Their loud songs of joy were directed toward the mayor’s marble balcony as he marched to the end of the platform. He looked down at them with a stressed smile as he welcomed them all to the summer celebration while sweeping his large arm to open the holiday event for everyone.

As the crowd thinned, with people moving about to start various activities, the mayor shivered. The dark glare burning into his back forced him to face the shadow that awaited in his office.

With the speed of a child knowing of an incoming scolding, he nervously shuffled into the dim room. His eyes were downcast as he looked at the feet of the sleep-deprived man, slouched on his navy couch.

“The festival’s begun.” The mayor licked his lips. “Is there anything else that you need to observe?”

The man spoke a simple “No.” as he slowly raised himself from the couch. His steps were heavy as he dragged himself to the blind-covered window. His cold hand pulled on the flimsy panel as his eyes slowly moved through the crowd.

The mayor’s continued cowering and questioning went ignored when familiar (H/C) locks flittered through the masses.

Locked on the locks his eyes followed them like a road map to gaze upon her face.

She looked so familiar, with the same faint scars and quirky grin. Yet, he noticed something new, the light in her (E/C) eyes that was once dimmed to mere dying embers had returned to their blaze. Instead of the fearful shuffle, there was a pep in skip that reminded him of the first time they met. 

He couldn't deny the rising hope at the sight of his long-lost wife. It felt like seeing the sun for first the time in a year, and yet a dark cloud quickly covered it. Reminding him of what had occurred almost a year ago to the day.

His darling wife had deserted him. Destroyed their happy home by slipping him a fatal concoction of medications, before slithering off into the night. Disappearing from his life, leaving nothing to hint at current her existence, until now.

Today, he thought, would change that. Today, she would be coming home whether she wanted to or not.

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

Italy: The Mafia Don never lost sight (Y/N)’s form, even as she began to blend back into the crowd.

The moment his eyes could no longer track her form, his hand dug into his pocket. The force that he used to pull a phone from its cloth confinements popped the seams of the pocket as he activated the device.

Two simple beeps before he held the silver phone to his ear. He waited with an intense focus on the crowds, searching for his wife again before a deep voice rumbled.

“Si, Don Vargas?”

There was no hesitation from the still-scanning leader as he gave his order. “My-a wife’s here at the-a summer festival. Find her.”

A simple ‘si’ came from the underling as he hung up the phone. A near-silent whimper made the magenta-eyed Italian turn to the trembling mayor.

He smirked as he pulled a knife from his brown suit and lifted the blade toward the coward. “If you-a value your-a short existence, you’ll say a-nothing.”

The mayor’s sweat-covered face bowed in a submissive nod before Luciano Vargas walked out. Leaving the mayor in the darkness and summer heat.

While Luciano’s men searched from the back alleys and dark corners, he walked more forward among the civilians. His pace was quick as he ducked and weaved.

Hours ticked by in the hot sun, and his stride never faltered even as his phone rang. The words that greeted him upon its answer, did make him stop. In fact, it made him smile like a crocodile that cornered squirming prey.

“Boss, we’ve got her.”

Luciano’s men hadn’t failed him. After last time, with the vivid memories of Medieval levels of torture and Pollock type of red mess, they refused to.

The confirmation of his darling wife’s capture, Luciano slipped away through the happy crowds. Allowing the alleys and shadows to guide him back to his car.

The drive was short as he sped over all limits and it screeched to a halt at the manor's stairs. 

Sauntering his way up through the oak doors and the large halls of the mansion, his men above breathed a small sigh of relief at their master's joy.

It was only a few turns along the marble corridor before he stepped down the stairs toward the dark, medieval basement. 

The Roman torches from long-forgotten eras cast long shadows along the iron cells. Each prisoner within attempted to hide when the Don walked by.

He paid no mind to the heavy chains shaking as walked to the heavy, iron door at the hall's end. It screeched open as he pushed against it.

The opening revealed a small, dark cell; furnished with only wall-mounted chains, a large pile of pillows, and a woman sitting upon it cuffed at the neck.

Luciano smiled wide as he reached up and pulled on the cord for the single lightbulb. He watched with joy as she flinched away upon its suddenness. Then trembling as she realized who stood in front of her. 

He stepped closer. A large smile on his face as grabbed the struggling woman's face. Dragging her toward him and tilted her head to the left as he whispered.

"Welcome back, mia Moglie." Luciano licked the shell of her ear before pulling back to look her in the eye. "I've missed you. Did you miss-a me?"

(Y/N) didn't answer, quietly shivering in his hold. Tears bubbled as Luciano's grin became feral.

"Because I'm all you have left."

Romano: (Y/N)’s body trudged forward with the unseen weight of exhaustion that comes from a day of excitement. Her lone footsteps were the only sound on the lamp-lit street that was still littered from the confetti released that morning.

She sighed heavily, but happily as she turned the final corner that would lead to the last leg of her journey.

Usually rounding the turn filled her steps with enough pep to skip her way home like a fairy tale bunny, this time however, she shuffled like a nervous horse stopped by an ashen rattler.

That serpent was no living thing, but a white limo with the nearest door opened like a snake’s jaw. Its light seeped out like venom from a bite, cascading along the sidewalk and highlighting her shoes.

Despite the shine, she could only see the shadows of a man within. His nice, white suit contradicted the black interior of the vehicle as his leg bounced. Whether it was excitement or nervousness she didn’t want to know.

Gulping, (Y/N) moved off the sidewalk to give the long automobile a wide berth.

As her path aligned with the open door, a sudden push came from her right. Shoved her into the door before being pulled into the limo that was now slammed shut.

The wheels screamed as the force caused her to crash into the man’s legs. Clutching onto them for some form of stability as the limo swerved.

Gentle fingers ran through her hair in a futile attempt to calm her down, but it only made her heart pound harder as (Y/N) finally looked at the mysterious stranger.

Her throat tightened as tears blurred her vision of the smiling Fabrizio. It wasn’t the loving smile he gave when he thought she had been broken. No, this one contained the traces of madness, obsession, and relief.

Like a spooked cat, she prepared to jump away, ready to duck and roll on the fast-passing terrain, but the hand tightened on her hair pulling her back to his feet.

“Now, now Bambola.” She flinched when he placed his silver stiletto against her neck. “You wouldn’t want-a make it worse when we get home, right?”

Germany: Like an old hound after a young vixen, Luther walked out of the office. Ignoring the mayor’s whimpering calls.

 His steps were quiet, yet quick as he slunk his way out of the City’s Hall. Into the streets, blending in with the crowds while his eyes searched for flickers of her clothing.

For moments, Luther felt that he was being led in circles. That his mind had played the cruelest of jokes as various flickers took him to multitudes of dead ends.

As the summer sun descended from its peak, the crowds thinned.

The lessened numbers brought out quiet conversations. One that made the German freeze.

The main voice was familiar, sounding like a lullaby that one’s mother no longer sang.

He followed like a bloodhound after a criminal. Its trail brought him to a small café with black wire seats under a cream-colored awning.

In the darkest corner were two women. The one to the right quickly faded into the shadows. The left one, his missing piece, was at first glance, like the warm blaze that welcomed heroes home from their quest.

Part of Luther wanted to embrace the blaze. Take in all the burns that would allow him to reunite with his heart. The other wanted to smother her. Place (Y/N) back into her hearth to prevent another wildfire like the one that gave her the chance to escape. To harness her passion to warm him alone.

Slinking toward the café, Luther went unnoticed in the dark as he entered the alley to the building’s right.

He watched with aid from a streetlamp as the women parted, hugging before they waved going their separate ways.

Luckily, Luther’s alley ran along (Y/N)’s route, allowing him to follow her like a shadow at sunset.  

Eventually, the sparsely filled streets became empty. 

Luther moved further ahead. Waiting at the next opening, back pressed against the near brick wall.

He held his breath as her footsteps approached.

At the same moment, his lamp-lit angel began her cross, his hands shot out. Grabbing (Y/N) and drugged her to his chest. His gun clicked as he lifted it from his waistband, muzzle pushed onto her temple.

Tears began to pour as she trembled in his hold. Small pleas for freedom and attempts at deals to prevent a return to their home fumbled from her mouth.

Luther heeded none of it.

Instead, he led her away. Far from the summer sun. Forcing her back into the damaged, cold hearth he called home.

Japan: As (Y/N) swam among the flood of sweat-covered people, a cold shiver vibrated her spine. The type that whispered the warning of danger to our ancestors on open grasslands. That gave way to the primal urge to hide from bloodthirsty beasts.

Yet, as her head snapped left, then right. Nothing stuck out. No one staring from amongst the crowds, no aggressive shoving, or screams of terror.

Swallowing her fear, (Y/N) shrugged off the feeling before jogging to the meeting point of all her friends. Trusting that the demon, who had claimed her as a wife, was nowhere near.

Not once did the feeling return as (Y/N) went about the festivities with friends. As the hours passed, she had long forgotten it ever occurred.

Even as she separated from the herd to return home, she felt relaxed. Safe, even as she moved through the empty, evening streets, but as she climbed the stairwell through her dark, apartment building that same shiver crept up her spine like a million, skittering centipedes.

Despite her glances showing nothing abnormal, the dark corners and shadows of the grey stairwell offered no relief with their shifting shadows. Instead, they seemed to reach out with long claws that caused her heart to race.

A door from the floor below slamming sent her running.

Up the stairs, she flew. Her arm acted as a balance as she swung the corner entrance to her floor. Panting, she leaned against her door as she struggled against her keys. Pushing them against the metal lock until the right one clicked in before a harsh turn allowed her to fall into her home. A simple kick, shut her own door as she scrambled away from it.

(Y/N)’s terrified clamber had become frozen mid-movement. She had hit something that did not exist within her dark entryway. It was warm and tall. Covered in loose-fitting cloth that felt of rough cotton. Her left hand moved backward and slowly slid across the smooth leather of military boots.

“Hime” At that simple pet name the tremors returned in full force. Tears collected on her lashes as she felt a gloved hand rake its way through her hair. With a little force, the hand angled her head upward.

Above her was the man she feared most. Kurai Honda.

 As she opened her mouth to scream, he covered it with a tight hand.

(Y/N) struggled against him. Flailing her arms and kicking at his arms. Kurai acted as though he felt nothing. Maneuvering (Y/N) like a doll into a choke hold and suffocating her.

As the dark spots crossed her vision, she heard him whisper.

“When you awake, our honor will be restored.”

Spain: Armando’s typically stoic face twitched for a moment before stretching into a mischievous grin.

A smile so sinister that the mayor’s teeth chattered as he backed away from the Spaniard. His spine shook as he cursed the hip bump that knocked the glass cup off the desk, it shattered upon impact with the wooden floor.

Like a predator mid-hunt, Armando’s head snapped toward the noise. His smile never waned as he stared.

“My apologize, Señor Mayor. But we will have to finish this discussion another day.”

The monster of a man turned on his heel, losing his smile as the mayor trembled with a prayer on his lips for the new target.

 The Spaniard’s loose-fitting shirt fluttered as he walked quickly through the administrative building, it whooshed backward as he stepped into the humid, summer air.

His eyes scanned the crowds once more from the marble steps. Another flick of (H/C) locks disappeared between the people at the market row.

Instead of forcing his way through the crowded streets, Armando sped his way along the edges. Cutting through the alleys like they were foxholes.

Immediately, he caught up. Watching his wife, like a lion prowling through tall grass.

She had changed so much, growing out her hair and wearing (F/C) jewelry. Yet, he noted upon closer examination her voice hadn't changed. It still sounded like his favorite lullaby.

Armando’s smile returned as she wandered closer. Leaving the sweet stand with a simple baggie in hand.

He stepped out, jogged to her side, and grabbed her hand in a constricting grip.

Before (Y/N) could scream, he hugged her tightly. Pressing her squirming form into his chest, before leaning down to whisper in her ear.

“Continue the fight and everyone will think you’re mad.”

For a moment, (Y/N) stilled. Armando could see her eyes were wide as he placed a chaste kiss on her forehead.

But that moment of peace didn’t last as her struggle returned. (Y/N) pushed and clawed at the Spainard like a fractious cat, yowling for help. Begging for someone to get her away from the madman.

He tchhed as the crowd formed a circle, tightening his grip on his woman before lifting her over his shoulder. Seemingly unaffected by her screams, Armando yelled over her, requesting the enforcers of the law appear as well.

Shocked, (Y/N) stopped mid-wail. Scrambling to figure out why he would demand to speak with the ones that would save her. Never once believed his warning.

It only took a minute for two black-clad uniformed policemen to shove their way to the front. Their gruff faces were marred by the annoyance of an easy shift gone wrong.

“What’s going on.” Questioned the taller of the partners. His eyes were sharp as they bounced between Armando and (Y/N).

“He’s trying to kidnap me!” (Y/N) shouted and attempted to fight. “Get me away from this freak!”

At her statement, the duo’s hands dropped to their holsters. Fingers grazed the leather-like excited hunting dogs on a thin tether. One wrong move and all hell would break loose.

The shorter of the duo lifted an open scarred, palm toward Armando. “Señor. Put her down.”

He complied but didn’t let go. Instead holding tightly to her hips with one arm as she squirmed. The other reached into his shirt to remove a letter, somehow maintaining its blinding whiteness while being pressed against his olive skin.

(Y/N) stared at the letter, while he made a silent gesture to the cops.

They approached and the taller took it from his hand. Opening it with a quick rip before scanning its contents.

The crowd remained silent as the shorter was then handed the letter. He read it much quicker, biting his lip before nodding to the first with pity in his eyes.

“Do you need any help getting her home Señor?”

(Y/N)’s jaw dropped as she looked between the three men. “What are you TWO DOING!? HELP ME!”

The taller policeman turned to her with sad eyes as he sighed. “Señora,” He nodded toward Armando. “Your husband just wants to take you home.”

“He’s not my husband!” (Y/N) insisted as she leaned down to rake the inside of Armando’s thigh with sharp nails, causing him to hiss and release her.

“Señora, you are ill. Let us help you.”

“Ma’am calm down.”

(Y/N) backed up panting as everyone approached. Citizens throwing in their voices, begging her to stop. Men stepped into the circle to help corral her.

As her head moved on a swivel, she noticed his dark grin. The smile never faded as the strangers held her down like wolves to prey. Presenting her toward their Alpha. Feeding her flesh to the beast she had tried to escape.

Never to be seen nor believed by anyone again.

Austria: His joy could not be contained as loud, frenzied laughter left him like a busted damn. Its power caused the monstrous nation to lean against the window as tears beaded and dripped down his ivory face.

As his guffaw slowed to silence, the room chilled chasing away any lingering summer heat. The darkest shadows shifted as they stretched themselves toward their master. Whipping like thin tentacles like cat tails as they curled around Jonathan. 

Their curling slowly turned into climbing as they pulled him downward like warped quicksand.

There was no fear from the Austrian as he looked to the terrified mayor. His serrated smile was wide as he called the government official before disappearing into the ink.

“Keep jour end of the deal, and jour family vill be zpared.”

The shadows fell away, revealing an upside-down office to Jonathan. A thump drew his attention to his feet, where he watched the mayor tremble before collapsing.

“Mortalz.” He chuckled before pulling out his umbrella from his jacket and bolting out of the office.

The change in orientation didn’t seem to affect him as the empty halls and streets aided him in his hunt.

As Jonathan approached the last location of his beloved queen, his carmine eyes returned to the ground. Quickly his vision bounced from person to person under him, scanning for the familiar (H/C) and (E/C).

 The dense crowd on the other side of the dimensional plane created a dizzying rainbow of features and colors that just weren’t right. It felt like hours for Jonathan as he worked through them, street by street and stall by stall.

The melodious sound of a guitar that was accompanied by the tender vocals froze him. He took in the words; broken love, unfair capture, and a promise to never allow love, created seismic shivers that rivaled earthquakes down his spine.

Only one bat could sing such a divine tale.

(Y/N).

Toward the town center, he sprinted. Kicking up dirt as he slides to a stop at a stage at the town center.

Mere feet from him stood his Angel of Music. Singing the songs, he had once thought he would never hear again. A healthy glow had returned to her sunken skin and a brightness in her movements that had existed at their first meeting.

Jonathan licked his lips as his mind concocted the perfect reunion. He prowled toward the stage and climbed down to the lights at the top.

He lined himself up so perfectly that a single jump would flatten her.

Jonathan crouched, hanging his umbrella off a single light, wiggling like a stalking cat. Allowing his muscles to tense like a coiled clock spring.

He jumped. Launching himself upward. The shadows opened, allowing him out.

He tackled (Y/N) mid-song. A gasp choked in her throat as they both tumbled back into the shadows.

(Y/N)’s fight did nothing as he kept her trapped in his arms. The sounds of hysteria from the world above were muted as he nuzzled into her back. Enjoying the warmth of her flesh.

The sickly groaning was ignored as Jonathan muttered a welcome home. Promising that this time they would be together until their final song was sung.

Prussia: Wilhem’s movements were stiff as the blinds snapped back to their original tension. His pale hand slowly dropped to his side as he turned toward the mayor.

The icy stoicism caused the low government official to shuffle in place like a nervous gelding. Rubbing his arm, the mayor spoke to the cold knight.

“Iz there anyzing elze jour bruder needs, Herr. Beilschmidt?”

“Nein, jou preformed az expected.”

With a simple nod in farewell, Wilhelm turned to leave the office.

The mayor, on the other hand, prayed that they wouldn’t meet again until next year.

For many the festival ended too quickly as the sun set and the streetlamps lit up like fireflies in a field. Vendors closed their stalls with a mix of clicks and tings as merchandise was packed away and doors were locked.

Soon enough, only a small group of young adults were left on the streets. Their laughter echoed like drunk parrots as they pushed against each other in youthful fun.

The loudest of them was (Y/N), her smile wide as she ducked and weaved between the members like in an impromptu game of tag. Jogging in place she watched them fumble in their reaches.

The gaggle unleashed a riotous roaring as (Y/N)’s jogging became teasing gestures. Peals of laughter bloomed as she danced along the street edge, allowing the crowd to convince her to create grander displays.

Panting with excitement, she failed to disappoint as the center of the empty road became her stage. Jokes and burns were shot off in rapid fire while she moved in swift excitement.

Just before the euphoria could reach its peak, a loud whinny silenced it.

Everyone looked to the source. Shocked gasps were heard at the sight of a large, grey and white horse. Upon its back was a man dressed in dark armor, his face hidden behind an enclosed helmet.

The mysterious being forced the horse to rear back. Its dark hooves waved in the air, the shoes catching the light like lightning before crashing down like thunder. Sparks flew as it galloped down the road.

(Y/N)’s friends called for her to move. Screamed for her to run to either sidewalk.

She couldn’t. Something about the knight had frozen her stiff.

As the thunderous hooves encroached her mind wondered why. Was it the feeling of familiarity with the entity? The way his hidden gaze seemed to command her to remain put like the monster she had killed or was it because apart of her believed that this knight was his ghost? Coming to drag her to his grave. To forcefully bury her beside the man she detested most of all. Combining their souls as one for all eternity.

The horse was five feet away when ancient instinct overrode the fear. She attempted to dive at her friends. Arms stretched out toward them. But she never connected. Never felt the touch of those who helped lift her out of the darkness.

Rough hands tugged her away. Throwing her across his lap as his steed sped off. (Y/N)’s screams disappearing into the darkness.

For hours (Y/N)’s friends and the authorities searched the city. Neither the hide nor hair of the beasts or the woman was found.

Some of the cops whispered about the Ghost of Order. Blaming his centuries of loneliness on why the woman was taken. Others were quick to silence that speak around (Y/N)’s worried friends.

It was a shame that no one knew how right they all had been. Except for (Y/N). For the ghost had been the man she once killed and had pushed her back into their shared crypt. Only this time, should one of them die then they both shall perish.  

[fancyfeathers]

Society of Protection (Yandere Bungo Stray Dogs x reader x original characters) (normalized yandere au)

Chapter Two,

Broken and Bandaged

Prologue and oc intro

Chapter one

Before parting Gaston gave you his address, his apartment was about two blocks away. So in the morning you got showered and dressed but skipped breakfast as to get something with Gaston. You made your way into the busy streets of Yokohama, the crowd buzzing around you. The walk to to Gaston’s apartment building was quick but it took you to the edge of one of the finer areas in town. You now stood in front of the apartment building Gaston lives in, and looking at it you were able to process that the building is off in itself, something you would find in a country like Austria or France, fine architecture, and engravings like an angel made them. The building took your breath away, but you gathered yourself and made your way inside. Gaston lives on the top floor, one of the penthouse like apartments here, there being 5 others, the building may not be long but it was big and that was for sure.

Gaston lived in the second apartment on the fifth floor, 502 was the door number. You knocked and you suddenly heard the sputtering of footsteps and paper and a few off notes hit on the piano. Then you heard a startled voice behind the door. “One moment!”

Yes that was Gaston, you thought, laughing to yourself. The door swung open after a moment and you see a very flushed Gaston. He was not wearing a fine suit like the night prior but a white button up shirt, blue vest, black slacks, and brown leather loader. His hair is ruffled up and glasses pushed up into his messy hair. “Sorry about that, just… unpacking, yes that’s right. Please come in, I can make some tea before we go.”

He steps aside for you to step in and you might have guessed it but now you know. Gaston Leroux is rich. The room looked like a mix between a ballroom, with a piano in the center of the room and nice hardwood flooring beneath your feet, and a library with the twenty five foot tall book cases covering ever wall, the book cases were a bit empty at the moment with boxes scattered across the room in stack and full of books and other nicknacks. He closes the door behind you and walked over to the piano that had a tea set on top of it. “I’m so sorry about the mess, my maid and I were unpacking last night after I got back home and just got distracted. I had to leave most of my collection back in Paris to I’m afraid I don’t have much to share.” 

“It’s fine…” You were star stuck as you look around at the beautiful room around you. Gaston doesn’t notice your wonder as he poured the hot tea from the pot into two cups. Your mind wonders where Gaston works to be able to afford a place like this. “How the hell did you afford this, I thought you worked as a composer?”

He chuckled as he walked over to you and handed you a fine metal tea cup and saucer to you. “I do, I do, I work as a composer for the Paris Opera House, a rather respectable job for someone like us. But this building is actually owned and designed by a good friend of mine, Victor Hugo. He lives three doors down actually.”

“Your friend designed this building?!” You were in shock and nearly dropped your teacup. How impressive was Gaston? Did he have an ability as a cherry on top? He nodded and guided you over to the couch, a fine velvet couch. “You’re more impressive than I thought.”

“Why thank you, it took me a lot to get were I am today. I just followed my dreams.” He says before taking a sip of the tea and when he sets it down on his saucer it doesn’t even make the smallest clink. “It’s black tea, with a bit of milk. Sorry I couldn’t prepare what you liked, my maid had this prepared before she left for groceries.”

“It’s fine, the tea is… nice.” Something about his words stuck a cord within you. Following dreams, something you always wanted to do but your status in life held you back. His expression changed and he said his tea cup down as he looks at you with a questioning eye.

“Are you alright, (Name)? Food for thought?” His voice was gentle, kind, compassionate. Something about it hit you just right… like a warm blanket, and you cracked.

“I just wish I could follow mine… my dreams that is. You know how hard it is, I just want you have a peaceful life.” You set your tea cup down as the words came out and your words and voice trembled. Gaston set his tea cup down and took your hands and squeezes them. His expression is kind but almost stern in a way.

“You can, you can, you just cannot let them get to you, (Name). They may run this society we call life but they do not own us .” His words are passionate and almost filling for lack of a better word. Then without a thought, you lunge forward and hug him, still shaken up, but Gaston is warm and you can smell the scent of peppermint, like the ones old woman would have. It’s comforting. Startled, but he still hugs back, giving a gentle squeeze. He held you for a moment before releasing and resting his hands on your shoulders and giving another squeeze. “How about we go to breakfast like we promised?”

“That sounds wonderful, Gaston.”

—————————

You left his apartment, if you can call it that, and made your way to one of your favorite cafes, Cafe Uzumaki, it was under a detective agency you think. Gaston held the door open for you as you stepped inside and he followed. Gaston hummed and tucked his hands in his pockets as he took it all in. “I like this place, reminds me of home.”

“Paris? I’ve always wanted to go.” You commented as you lead him to a booth along the wall with stained glass windows. He sat down across from you and  gazed out the window a small smile on his face. You followed his gaze and you saw that he was gazing at a bed of flowers. “City of love they say, not so sure of that anymore.”

“Love, jealousy, hatred, burst out around us in harrowing cries. It is we who should be able to have control over those emotions for they are ours, ours to feel, ours to live, and ours to give.” His voice sounds distance almost as if he’s speaking from a million miles away. “The city didn’t earn that name for nothing, it just needs… to find itself again.”

At that time the waitress came up to your table, she was a dainty looking woman, a dress similar to that or a European maid, and her hair done up in a tight bun. “Good to see you again (Name), it’s been awhile, the usual I’m guessing?”

“Yes, the usual.” 

She glanced over at Gaston whose gaze is still fixated on on the flowers outside. “For your friend?”

“The same.” You answered. She nodded and ran off behind the counter to give the barista the order. You watched the barista make your drinks and prepare your sweet treat for breakfast, both you and Gaston looking in opposite directions. Suddenly you feel his fingers intertwine with yours across the table. You quickly glance over at him and his face turns to you and he mouths.

“Just play along. Please.”

At that moment the cafe door swung open and stepping in we’re two men, a blond with a notebook and a brunette with bandages wrapped around his arms and neck. You recognized them as members of the Armed Detective Agency, not celebrities but recognizable in this neighborhood and it seems Gaston recognized them as well. They sat down at the bar, near the barista who was preparing your order, it see,ed like they weren’t paying you attention but then you saw the brunette’s head turning and-

“Mon ange, do you remember that trip to Perros-Guirec? To visit my father’s grave?” Gaston turned to you, clearly noticing the slight movement from the man at the counter. Gaston’s words ran in your mind, play along. You have done this before with your other friends while out, what’s another time? You had to respond and quickly.

“Y-yes, yes!” You snapped yourself out of your thoughts and looked at Gaston with a fake look in your eyes, a pretend love. “Two years ago, during the summer, right?”

Gaston hummed in response and side eyes the man as he slowly glanced over his shoulder at the two of you. Gaston’s eyes quickly looked back at you and nodded with a loving smile. “Yes, we went to that one pâtisserie, that had the best macarons, the messy ones.”

You forced a laugh and nodded. “Yes, I remember, you bit into one and strawberry filling went everywhere, all over your shirt and face!”

“And you had to spend hours getting it out of my hair!”

“We’ll it’s not my fault you’re so-“

“Now you two are just exaggerating, you two can relax, it’s not like I bite.” A voice interrupts the two of you, the bandaged brunette. He spun around on his stool to face the two of you. He wore a clear smirk on his face that sent chills down your spines. “I know for a fact that you have never been to France because for the last four years you have been working at that same flower shop on the corner, five days a week for every week since you started, you wouldn’t of had the time to travel to France, let alone to Perros-Guirec.”

Gaston’s smile fell and he was about to say something before the blond piped in. “That’s enough, Dazai, leave them alone. It’s too early for this anyway.”

The brunette, Dazai sighed and turned around in his chair and started talking to the blond man, you were to dazed to listen in, but Gaston wasn’t, he kept an ear on them as your drinks and snacks came. The table was silent as you two ate and drank.

You glanced down at your watch  as you finished up and saw you were running a tad behind schedule, you looked over at Gaston, who was still sipping his drink. “Gaston, I have to go, my shift starts in half an hour, I’ll just pay-“

“No need, I can handle it, go ahead (Name). I’ll see you around.” Gaston gestured his head to the door and you quickly got up and ran off to make it to work on time. Gaston meanwhile just sat there, finishing his drink. The blond from the detective agency had left at this point, leaving only him and Dazai together. Gaston stood up from his seat, leaving his empty cup behind along with payment, much more than what was needed but it wasn’t a big deal to him, and went up to the counter and sat next to Dazai. The two sat in silence for a long moment before Gaston spoke up. “I may not know exactly what game you are playing, but I know who you are, Osamu Dazai.”

Dazai raised an eyebrow to Gaston who sat next to him but never looked at him. “That’s something considering I have no idea who you ar-“

“Gaston Leroux. Not that you’ll find anything you want to know about me.”

“And how do you know that?”

“Because I know how to keep my secrets hidden which is much more than you can say. One hundred and thirty eight counts of conspiracy to murder, three hundred and twelve counts of extortion, and six hundred and twenty five counts of assorted fraud. To say the least, I do my research. The board is set and the game is on.”

“And so it is, and so it is.”

[gremlingottoosilly]

Cabin in the woods (yan!Konig x fem!Reader x yan!Horangi)

You and your friend group are definitely not a part of a typical slasher movie. Two weird guys you met at the corner store somewhere in rural Austria definitely not serial killers. You are definitely going to be saved. You are definitely not going to like being their little trophy.

TW: Yandere, Age gap(Reader in her early 20, murder husband in their late 30), Serial Killers, Mild Gore, Extreme dub-con(Bordering cnc), Blood, Horror, Kidnapping

CHAPTER 1 You meet two weird locals at the corner store in a city in the middle of Austrian woods. Your timid nature is going to be your downfall.

Come to the woods, your assholes-of-a-friend said. Come on, he said, I know that for someone like you, dwelling in some shitty forest for three or more days only to drink mediocre beer and probably have even more mediocre sex while mosquitos are biting at your vagina sounds like your worst nightmare, but! Have you considered it could be fun? 

Yeah, you have considered it. Considered it, thought about it and already decided not to engage with the idea. Spending the holiday in your own country, your own city and by your computer was far better than running around some random Austrian forest – and so you decided to kinda…ditch the idea. 

Considering what happened in the next few days, you really should have been more true to your words. 

Because you agreed to the proposition – because you don’t want to antagonize your friends, because you already feel strained from them, because they are assholes and they continue to be assholes but they are the only ones you have. Maybe you shouldn’t rot in your room, maybe you should agree to spend Spring break with them, getting drunk in the woods and maybe chasing some wild boars across the place. 

— Sorry. 

Some asshole – not the friend one, just an asshole in general, like everyone else in this fucking country that is so stuck up at being in the woods and mountains, that you are literally going to be sick – took the last remaining bottle of coke that was still left on the shelve. You were not having it because it was almost night already, the last remaining store open in the area, and you needed your sugar fix and something to mix alcohol with so you wouldn’t get drunk and stupid immediately. 

You aren’t letting go of the bottle. 

The guy doesn’t let go either. 

— Sorry, I think I got it first. 

You hate how weak your voice is. Never be the active, social one of your friends, you’re stuck being just a dumb girl who has literally everyone walking all over her. You decided to dig your heels into the ground and sent this asshole where he belongs – so, your grip on the bottle intensifies. 

— Haven’t seen you. 

He tugs the bottle back to him – and he has some arm strength, surprisingly for someone in this town. To be quite honest, you are too intimidated by his deep, annoyed voice to even consider looking at him, so you don’t know what the guy looks like. Maybe it’s an MMA champion – celebrity shop at some weird corner stores in abandoned Austrian cities too. 

— I am very sorry, but I really, really need this bottle. 

You don’t, actually. There are multiple bottles of Pepsi right here, and not like you have a very specific preference for the drink that is bad for you. You just got tired of people walking all over you, tired of your friends that constantly getting you into their shenanigans without asking for your opinion and you just want something good happening to you at least once. So, you tug the bottle back to you, and press it against your chest, hoping that whoever this man is will get the memo and get the fuck away from you until you’ll get your pepper spray. Ah, right, you forgot to bring one…well, he doesn’t have to know about that. 

— What do you need this bottle for? 

— Important reasons. Secret reasons.

The man sneered and you finally got a good look at him. And…fuck. 

Tall, broad, maybe more on the leaner side, but you can clearly see his tight muscles that form this perfect, thin type of masculinity that makes you think about greet athletes and that weird webtoon you were occasionally reading because you don’t have anything better to do with your life. You lick your lips, nervously, suddenly aware of the fact that you wear some old hoodie, battered jeans, and exactly zero makeup – you were supposed to get chased by the bears in the forest, not a meet-cute annoying strangers. 

He is Korean if little doodles on his jacket and an accent are saying the truth. You force yourself to get your gaze away from the mask that was covering more than half of his face, black glasses that obstruct the view even more, and messy black hair – the only thing about his appearance that you can actually see. 

Maybe, it’s good that you can’t see his face – you need to get out of here, preferably with a bottle of coke and some other snacks before your friends start questioning why the only person who didn’t want to go is so reluctant about leaving the store. Besides, it’s already almost closing time and you need to gather your thoughts. With a deep sigh, you push the bottle closer to you. 

But this time, he didn’t humor you with softness. He kept it close to himself and suddenly, you are very aware of how much weaker you are than him. You could put up a good fight against a mouse, maybe, a squirrel on a good day – but in this tugging match, you were no, pun intended, match for him. You look closely at his cargo jacket – the patches look official, normal, making you think about the military and what the fuck Korean soldier is doing in the small town somewhere in the rural, touristy-foresty-mountainy part of Austria. 

— Please, sir, it’s getting silly. 

— Yes, it is. Give up now. 

He has that weird calmness in his voice – a low grumble that makes you shiver, the urge to just give up your control and present him your neck like a good pet makes you want to vomit. God, it’s humiliating – you just hope that your friends won’t be here to witness your utter humiliation. 

— I really, really need this bottle. Please? 

You master your best puppy eyes, looking at him with a half-lidded gaze, hoping he has at least a somewhat working and aching heart inside of his lean, muscular chest. The dark glasses of his don’t allow you to see his face clearly, but you can feel how he slowly eyes you from head to toe, slowing down at how much your hands are trembling at the confrontation. 

In a normal situation, you would give up already. But this isn’t a normal situation – you wanted to learn how to be brave, independent, and stand up for yourself in small things, even if your friends still going to swirl you around into making dumb decisions. 

— I was the first to grab it. Why should I give it to you? 

His voice is mesmerizing – you didn’t expect something as deep from a random stranger in the corner shop and here you are, embarrassed, cheeks heated because you want to ditch your friends and look at the random guy you just met. Ah, the tragedy of meeting someone remotely attractive and closer to your age – or at least looking like it – in a mundane place so that the horny thoughts would make room inside your head. 

— Because this would cheer me up really nice, sir. 

You master even puppier eyes – and you lick your lips some more, hoping to elongate the point of how shitty your day was, and how nice it would be, just to have a bottle of coke to cheer you up. Man lets go of a grumpy noise, shaking his head. 

“Fucking tourists” he mutters – and you feel even more embarrassed immediately. If anything, he is probably a tourist too! 

— Sir? So the coke-stealer has manners after all. 

His laugh is dry, and you want to take the bottle and leave – but when you yank it closer, he doesn’t let go. If anything, he grabs it even firmer, thin plastic deforms under his touch, and the tactical gloves he is wearing are only empathizing with the vast difference between you and him. 

— I’m not a coke-stealer. I had dibs on this bottle. 

He stares at you, tilting his head to the side. You look stubborn, like an angry little kitten – and, god fucking dammit, Horangi loved cats. Always wanted to get one or two, adorable furballs that would lay on him and Konig, maybe destroy the wildlife around their house. he loved cats and never had time to take care of them because of their combined jobs – so when he looks at this stubborn little woman – little more in her posture than actual size – he feels all the desire to take a kitten home gets straight into his pants. 

He has to find Konig. Ah, and get the bottle back. 

— Dibs don’t matter if you can’t even hold it. So, the bottle is mine. 

— Sir, if anything, this bottle can’t belong to you yet. You haven’t paid for it! 

— You too. 

— But I will. 

— Just as I am. 

He chuckles, more amused than anything. You look angry, you look pissed, you munch on your lower lip nervously because you don’t want this man to walk all over you, but you also really want his – it belongs to the state, actually – coke. So, you yank it one last time, already preparing to give up and drink Pepsi as the loser woman you are. 

Instead, the bottle goes right into your hand with ease – and you fall on your back, losing the connection between your legs and the ground. You prepare to fall and crack your head on the floor, just like a wet kitten of a person you are. 

Instead, you stumble into…something. You want to say that it’s something soft, maybe a snack aisle or the pillows that are being sold in this store for some reason, but this mysterious “something” under your cheek is firm, tense and warm. 

Just like in the worst romantic comedies you ever saw, you are crushed into a broad male’s chest. Don’t mess it up with another man’s broad chest, those are actually two very different individuals and the concentration of pecks on the square meter already makes you feel uneasy. You bite your lips nervously, wanting nothing more but to disappear – you finally have the bottle in your hands and you can swiftly retreat to the cashier on the other side of the shop, but the man behind you stops you. 

— What’s going on, Tigeren? 

Ah, good. The wall of muscles behind you smells of generic male deodorant and something metallic – and has the voice of a Greek god mixed with the most stereotypical Austrian accent ever. Not like you are an expert on accents or voices or tones because you’re not sure that Greek gods would have such high and grumbling voices, but you stand not corrected, drowning in your bad decisions. 

You feel the firm hold on your shoulder gently put you away slightly, as the man comes to touch the asshole’s hand. Softly, gently, you want someone to touch you like this. You lift your gaze from the pair and…

Did you miss a Halloween party with the tough rule of wearing a mask all the time, even when you’re going out to grab some more snacks? You lower your gaze from the man who also wears a generic black mask and dark glasses, your eyes slowly go down to his pants and…

Did you miss a horse-riding party? 

— Some tourist tried to steal my coke. Nothing, Ko. 

— I’m not a tourist. 

You mumble, under your breath. You don’t want to be here – the area suddenly becomes intoxicating, you feel out of place and you want to run away as fast as possible but the only thing you can do is to just strive on, hoping that you’d at least keep your beverage with you. You take a step to the side, hoping to retreat quietly, like a ninja – but they both notice and turn to your side immediately. 

— This is a dangerous place, lady. 

The tall guy – well, they are both tall, but the second one is fucking enormous, towering over the shelves and making you feel insignificant compared to him – grumbles it gently, almost carefully. You are inclined to listen to him, taking up his words like a damned prophecy. You know this place is dangerous – it’s a forest in the mountains of Austria, of course, it is dangerous, you tried to tell your friends this, but…well, to no avail. Useless as usual. 

— I’m aware, thank you. Can I…excuse me, I will leave now. 

— With my coke. 

Korean guy snorts, the clear amusement in his voice. You don’t like the way he emphasizes the point of you stealing it from him – you both are entitled to it, if anything, he is the weird one to think that he has some special dibs for this. The bottle is already warmed up from your combined touches and you groan from the fact – now you will have to choke on the warm cola while all of your friends have fun with their dumb alcohol cocktails and ice cubes and everything you forgot to bring because you were the last one to get here. Because you were the last one they asked to join – feeling like an afterthought, you lick your lips nervously. 

— Of course. The one you wrestled out of my hold. 

— You let go of it, sir. 

— Didn’t want to make a scene with a little thing like you. 

You feel the tips of your ears burning. Oh, how you wanted to punch both of them – the tall one and the slightly less tall one, both chuckling like a pair of grannies on the porch. Like this fucking place needed more bears. 

— You should be careful around these parts. Weird things going around. 

The mountain has spoken again – weird, but all of his phrases feel more like something straight up from a horror movie. Combined with the eerie dim light of the tiny store and his mask, it sent a shiver down your spine. Gosh, you need to watch fewer horror movies and read less terrible dark romance books. You are jumpy, nervous, anxious, everything that doesn’t combine well with a forest trip. 

You take a step back and the blue eyes follow you. When did he take off his sunglasses? Why do they both need sunglasses at night? 

He looks at you and, fucks sake, you stumble into the aisle again. With a bottle of coke in your hand, which isn’t the best weapon in the world, you stumble to the cashier. 

Cold gaze follows you. Oh, how he follows you. 

You nervously bring the coke bottle to the old man behind the counter, listening to the tired German speech – you recognize the numbers, memorize the price of a single bottle, and yet…you feel the eyes glue to your back as you desperately rummage through your pockets. You swear to god that you had cash on you this exact morning – but you go through your pockets, through your backpack, and try to search for maybe some old cents and cards. 

Nothing. 

God, you feel like a failure – embarrassed that you wasted so much time trying to get this bottle only to put it back on the shelf in defeat and…

— On me. Move your ass, tourist. 

The Korean guy notches your side and you glare at him with a mix of anger and shame – he pays for the bottle, probably grinning from how well he taught this annoying as fuck tourist a lesson, and also for the few snacks he bought, probably for himself and his…friend? Boyfriend? 

You move your ass obediently, going out of the store, and your head hangs low in defeat. Your friends are smoking outside, everyone is visibly annoyed with how long it took you only to go out empty-handed. Jenny, one of your girlfriends, a tall brunette with a perfect fucking body that shouldn’t belong to someone in the real world and not 90-era comedies, looks…worried. 

You went to ask her what was wrong, but she shook her head, looking somewhere behind you. 

You stare at the ground, watching as your shriveled shadow from the single-store light swiftly being absorbed by someone’s much larger frame. You gulp, not wanting to look behind you, knowing what – or who – you might want. 

Tall guy with a…coke bottle? Well, you weren’t expecting that. He gives you the bottle and you can almost see the condescending smile on his face as his fingers linger on your hand for longer than they should be. You take the offer, not really understanding what the fuck is really going on. 

— Thank…you? 

— No problem, kleine. 

You can hear the smile in his voice and your hands are trembling. Jenny looks at you with surprise, clearly not expecting nerdy ol’ you to pull someone so…well, not nerdy and maybe old. 

— What the fuck? Who is…

— I’ll explain in the car, alright? 

— Did you drop it or something? 

— I…I think I lost my wallet. Have you seen it? 

She stops for a second, thinking. There are a few things Jenny is good at – burning the tip of her tongue with a lighter, wearing crop tops, eating men alive (unless they are the most annoying ones alive). Lying isn’t one of them – not because she is a good person, but because she would rather flip your shit upside down and make you as upset as she possibly could. 

— Chad took it. Said you’d find the nearest bus to get the fuck out of here if you’d have it. 

He…

You can’t fucking believe this. All this humiliation because her annoying boyfriend didn’t want you to ruin this little unfriendly gathering. You feel angry tears in the corners of your eyes, almost ready to sniffle like the needy thing you are. God, you’re weak and pathetic and…

The Austrian guy behind you coughs, attracting attention. 

— Ladies like you shouldn’t go out this late. Bad things might happen. 

Jenny snorted and you already wanted to close your eyes. She was clearly not having it and she had a very short temper – you take a step back, towards her, hoping to set her down. Instead, she took one look at your pleading expressions, and it made her even more annoyed. She was never good with locals. 

— We’re getting out of this dump as soon as possible, sir. Didn’t ask for your opinion though. 

He chuckles and the sound sends a shiver down your spine. 

— Just wanted to warn you. Tourists are disappearing around these parts. 

— We’re not some dumb tourists. 

— Ach? You aren’t? 

Jenny fails to hear the amusement in her voice. You tuck the Coke bottle in your arms, hoping that they would stop. 

— We’re not a bunch of dumb tourists and we will call the police if you’d proceed harassing us. 

— Just wanted to give your friend what she forgot. Keep an eye on each other, ja? 

— We will. Fuck off before I’m calling the 9-1-1, verstehen? 

You feel even more embarrassed as she storms off to the truck where Chad and everyone else is staying, not even paying you a glance – too used to your sorry ass going right after her, like a lapdog that your other friend likes to bring everywhere in her tiny pink purse. 

You sigh, feeling horrible. The guy is creepy. Tall, looming over everyone, both of them are fucking terrifying – but they paid for the coke and the Austrian one is genuinely trying to tell you something. A bit paranoid, maybe, but you see the cargo jacket he is wearing, so he is probably either a paranoid survivalist or maybe a part of the military. You like having someone worried about your safety, even in more of a scary horror movie-esque form. 

— I’m…sorry for Jenny. She isn’t always like this, we’re just tired after a long road. 

— You were driving whole day? 

— We’re, um…on a trip. You know, a little getaway in the woods. Would have been nice. 

The giant tilts his head to the side. You just noticed that his hands are twitching a little, fidgeting with the bottom part of his jacket. You find it almost cute, endearing in a way – at least he is as anxious about talking to you as you are to him. You find yourself also fidgeting on the bottle, swirling it in your hands, never understanding what you should do in a somewhat normal social situation. 

— Be careful, kleine Hase. Like I said, it’s a dangerous place for young ladies like you. 

The way he said it, calling you a young lady, made him look extremely old – and made you feel even more embarrassed and uncertain about your future. Here you are, wasting your youth on shitty road trips to Austrian woods instead of reading horror books and watching romance movies. 

— Thank you, sir. I…I’ll keep that in mind. 

— Are you two alone on the trip? 

Alright, it was a bit creepy. his cold blue gaze bores in your face, making you feel small. 

— No, Our male friends are with us. 

He humms, almost sounding amused. 

— Good. Wouldn’t want it to be too easy. 

— Sorry? 

— Wouldn’t want someone bad to hurt you so easily. 

You smile. He is nice, even if a bit creepy – you nod slightly, taking a step towards the truck, since everyone else already got in and you still have a long road to the place of your camp. 

— Thank you for the bottle, sir. 

— You are welcome. Keep yourself safe, ja? 

You nod. 

Keeping yourself safe sure does sound nice. You can do it, right? (You can’t,  but you don’t know that yet)