#2P!Allies

[hellonerf]

i could make an ame daily blog probably. for like a few weeks. i won't tho

[milaisreading]

2p Axis and 2p Allies reaction to a guy giving Valentine's Day gifts to y/n before they had a chance?

🌱🩷: Here u go! Hope it is ok, and thank you for the request!

2p!Italy🇮🇹

2p!Italy: Bella, these are for you~

Yn, while looking at the flower bouquet: Thank you! I didn't expect you to care about Valentine's Day! These are really pretty

2p!Italy: You care about this holiday and so do I. Besides, I wanted to be the first one to give you the present.

Yn:Oh... uhm...

2p!Italy:What?

Yn: Well... Actually... Sweden already gave me a present so...

2p!Italy: Really?

Yn: Yeah- WHY DID YOU TAKE YOUR KNIFE OUT?!

2p!Germany🇩🇪

Yn: Thanks for the chocolate!

2p!Germany, all proud that she likes it: Nothing to thank me for. I heard from people you like this flavor.

Yn: Yep! It's one of my favorites, actually.

2p!Germany, confused as he thought she likes this one: One of? What's your favorite? I can get you that instead.

Yn: No need! Besides, Denmark already gave me that this morning.

2p!Germany: ... What? Wait, so someone already gave you a gift?

Yn: Yeah. This morning

2p!Germany:....

Yn: Why is your gun out?

2p!Japan🇯🇵

2p!Japan:...

Yn, worried as his glare intensifies and his grip on the present tightens: Are...are you ok?

2p!Japan:Yes.

Yn: You look constipated. Was it the food you ate earlier?

2p!Japan, embarrassed as he shoves the present into her hands: Just take this stupid gift?!

Yn: Thanks... *opens to see what's inside*

2p!Japan, trying to look like he doesn't give af: And?

Yn: Oh! This is a cute figurine! It will go well with the one Korea gave me!

2p!Japan:...

2p!Japan: When did he give it to you?

Yn: This morning.

2p!Japan: Ah... so someone already gave you a gift?

Yn: Yeah- where are you going?

2p!Japan: Out for a walk.

2p!America🇺🇸

2p!America: Hey there, dollface! Happy Valentine's Day! Here is your present.

Yn, jumping in surprise as she takes it: Thank you! The bear is cute!

2p!America, swinging his arm around her shoulder: Not as cute as you.

Yn, blushing:O-oh...

2p!America: Anyway, want to go and eat something?

Yn: No, I just ate with Norway

2p!America: Excuse me? What?

Yn: He took me out to lunch as a gift.

2p!America,thinking of all the ways to kill a country: Oh... lovely...

2p!France🇫🇷

2p!France: What is that?

Yn, looking at the small cake 2p!France was pointing at: Oh! This? It's a cake Finland made me for Valentine's Day! Want to try? He made it with my favorite flavor.

2p!France while tightening his grip on a gift he got her: Oh... And you accepted the gift just like that?

Yn, confused by the question: Yeah? We always give each other gifts.

2p!France: You gave him gifts as well?!

Yn: Yeah... Are you mad?

2p!France: Yes.

Yn: O-oh... I will put it away then...

2p!France: Please do.

2p!England🇬🇧

2p!England: Poppet! I made you my special cupcakes! Try them!

Yn, nervous as she remembers what his special cupcakes might have:I am not really hungry, so...

2p!England: They don't have anything bad in them, I swear!

Yn, slowly nodding her head as she takes them: O-Ok.

2p!England: I wanted to make this present special! Do you like them?

Yn, surprised they taste like real, normal cupcakes: Yeah... they remind me of the ones Switzerland got me this morning.

2p!England: What?

Yn: Switzerland gave me some as a present this morning *continues eating*

2p!England, thinking: I will turn him into literal Swiss cheese

2p!Russia🇷🇺

Yn: Thanks for the presents, Russia... Isn't this too much? *looks at the mountain of gifts*

2p!Russia, shakes his head while patting hers: Not really. In fact, there are more I need to give you.

Yn:?!

2p!Russia: Don't worry your pretty brain about it, but... Who gave you those flowers over there? *points at the tulips*

Yn: Oh! Netherlands gave me them as a gift this morning! They smell so good- Why are you taking the vase away?

2p!Russia: They have gone bad. I will get you better ones

Yn: What?

2p!China🇨🇳

Yn, admiring the Hello kitty plushie: This is so adorable! I never saw this one!

2p!China, while having a huge grin on his face: Well, it was a special I requested for you. Happy you like it.

Yn: Thanks! You didn't have to go through so much trouble for me.

2p!China: It was more trouble at all~

Yn: It will look great with that plushie Estonia gave me this morning

2p!China:...

2p!China: Someone gave you a present already?

Yn: Yep~

2p!China: Oh... Can you do me a favor?

Yn: Sure. What is it?

2p!China: Can you sleep with your window open for tonight? And put that plushie from Estonia as close as possible to the the window

Yn:...

Yn: What?

2p!Canada🇨🇦

2p!Canada, blushing as Yn thanks him for the chocolate: It's nothing. Just a small token of appreciation.

Yn: Still! Thank you for remembering me! I didn't expect gifts from both Iceland and you, to be honest.

2p!Canada: Oh, it's nothing. I am happy you like- What do you mean by Iceland?

Yn: Him and Mr. Puffin gave me those cute Valentine's Day cards. They are so adorable~

2p!Canada, agitated while she is smiling: Aha...

An hour later...

Yn, yelling from her room: My cards are gone!!

2p!Canada as he lights up a fire: How tragic

[stawbearry]

A bit of 2p england art

[my2phetaliaheadcanons]

What would be the 2p Alias's reaction if they heard knocked on they door in the middle of the night, and when they open the door, exept a baby on they doorstep?

Hmmm… For the 2ps it would probably occur after finishing their ‘job’. Maybe the night went smoothly, and they were able to wrap it up early. Or it ran way too long and they were ready to mentally shut down. Either way, they would be tired walking up the steps to enter their dark home.

 Some would have quickly ditched their clothing, ready to shower before passing out for a dreamless sleep. Others, bogged down by the weight of their world, would attempt to numb it with their chosen poison. All of them would be ready for their night to end.

That’s when the mysterious figure would knock, and a baby would cry.

France: Disturbing François when he’s relaxing is like approaching a large, aggressive dog. He stomps his way to the door and throws it open. The sight of the child is shocking but doesn’t quell his anger too much as he shouts into the darkness. Demanding that the so-called ‘parents’ come and collect their kid.

Unsurprisingly, no one answers, even after he runs around his property looking for any signs of disturbance. To which he finds too few to work off.

Grumbling, he makes his way back and harshly scoops up the kid. The action makes the babe scream more.

At first, he sits ‘em on his bed, letting them exhaust themselves, and calls the Child Services. Sadly, the early hours only get him a messaging machine to which he curses harshly at. He doesn’t want to commit to the emergency line due to the larger amount of paperwork it would require.

Reluctant, François would turn to the infant and calm them. He would be reminded of his days with Matt as he rasped lullabies and whispered stories long forgotten. Eventually, it would end with the child and François cuddled together as the sun rose and reached its height.

Finally awake and both feeling better, François would finally reach Child Services who would come and collect the child.

There would be no tearful goodbye or feelings of regret as he allowed the babe to be taken from his hands. All he would hope is that life’s hand would be fair and that he would never become a target for the frumpy Frenchman.

America: Allen’s night was pretty rough, so much so that when he discovers the infant, his mind is just pure static. The mental blizzard causes him to only look from his porch for the lad’s parents and when he doesn’t see them, just take the kid inside.

In his daze, he would create a makeshift crib out of a drawer and then go back to bed. It did help a lot that the kid fell asleep from the rock in his step.

The crying in the morning would wake him again. This time, his mind having had a chance to reset would spook him. In a panic would wonder where the kid came from and how they go there.

So, he does the only rational thing he can think of. Call Oliver.

He gets snippy with Oliver as he rocks/feds the lad, nearly agreeing to give it to him, before realizing how bad that would be.

Allen, going off the given advice, can take care of the child for a couple of days. He even feels accomplished when he gets to hear the baby laugh. Until nation work and baby care start to collide.

He’ll feel like a failure and his temper would cause him to snap at his men and push them to do better. This would go on for a couple more days until his right hand recommends giving the kid over to CPS. That this world is too much for a bachelor to mix with a family while single.

Allen feels guilty when he finally makes the call and fights back tears as they remove the child from him. This attachment keeps Allen hooked on keeping tabs on the kid. Often sending gifts for birthdays and holidays until the 18th year. From that point, Allen considers the kid an adult and steps back.

Hopefully, his involvement means the kid flies high in this world.

Canada: Matt would be pretty stunned at a baby swaddled on his porch. Especially since it would mean that this ‘parent’ got past Kuma and made it away without a scratch. At least he assumes so since Kuma looked to be sleeping by his bear house and there’s not a puddle of red.

He would be quick to take the child inside and warm them up. His hold of the babe would be awkward until a semi-normal hold would balance the kid on his chest as he rubbed their icy extremities.

For an hour, Matt would do this while singing French lullabies. Once he felt like the baby had returned to a normal temp and was asleep, he would tuck them into a makeshift crib. Then, reluctantly call England, just like Al does.

The chipper man would seem all too happy to help Matt with the child, already giving advice. Until Matt mentions giving him due to a lack of resources and the dangers of nation work. Then he switches to asking for the young lad.

Matt gives a swift no before hanging up. He’ll cater to the infant for the next hours before calling his 1p, telling him to get him in touch with child services.

Once contact is made, he’ll inform them of the child. He’ll request a pickup but demand that each foster and potential adopter is vetted thoroughly, more so than for anyone else.

 When the infant is gone, Matt will look for the ‘parent’ to punish them in some way shape, or form. Then, this ‘rough’ Canadian will occasionally check in on the child, just until he’s sure his life is at least average, maybe send a gift or two over the years.

Once he’s happy with the current state of the kid’s life, he’ll slowly drift out. Content that he saved at least one soul.

England: Oh boy. Oliver is typically a grumpy person when awoken from his slumber, but the infant on his doorstep made him do a 180.

A giddy giggle would leave the typically sadistic nation as he cradles the child. Fully intending to keep the infant as his own. After all, if he can’t have his mini-nations, then he’ll just use a human child as a substitute.

 He caters to this child’s needs to a tee. He never goes hungry, experiences cold, or wants for anything. It's perfect, if it wasn’t Oliver attempting to create a parental relationship where the child is overall too reliant on their parent. So, he always has one being attached to him, feeding his Savior complex.

For a few months, this goes on, and Oliver is all too willing to keep it up forever. Except he forgot about the meeting he was supposed to host for a 1p-2p bonding experience. So, when Arthur walks in and sees the babe, he is quick to spirit him away from the 2p.

Oliver rages, but due to the 1p magic trio working against him, the babe is lost to him. And, surprisingly, he mourns his loss.  

Maybe one day, he’ll finally fulfill his desire.

Russia: Why are you here? – Calls Services and pays to make sure kid is well taken care of

Viktor’s view of the disturbance was curiosity. Why would anyone leave a child at his home, better yet why would a stranger think he could do better for their child than they?

Similar to some of the nations, he would look around for any signs of the parents, but like the rest, none was found. He would take the child inside and place them in one of the empty rooms of the manor. Pillows surrounded her to prevent injuries from rolling off the bed, and he would watch them for a moment to ensure there would be no suffocation.

He would then step out for a moment to call his sisters. He expected that they would be able to give decent advice and be willing to help with the child. Instead, he got harsh lectures about how he was in no place to take on a child and that it would be best for everyone to give up the kid.

Their logic at first wouldn’t sway him, but when they arrived on his doorstep within 48 hours of saying he would raise the child, did finally sway him. Notably when they held the baby and threatened to report him for abduction and barracked themselves in a room.

Usually, he would continue to fight for his desires, but in this case, he gave in. Especially since the child looked much more comfortable in the arms of his sisters than his.

Viktor would call Child Services and once gone would set up a savings account for the kid. It would be anonymous and accessible once the baby had picked a career path.

China: Jin would tiredly pull at his eyes as he would take the baby into his arms. A curse on his lips as he turned to calm the child while calling his men.

His orders are simple to find the parents, and to conduct surveillance. Within 24 hours, they are found and a whole portfolio is given to Jin.  

If the parents are down on their luck, he’ll not only return the baby, but he’ll also give them a hand. Money, a home, a job, all of those, and more are on the table of things Jin may give. His quiet angelic works may be sprinkled in like small rainstorms during a long drought until he is sure that the family is stable.

On the other hand, if the parents are absolute trash, then there is no mercy. Jin will have his men worsen their lives to the point where death will seem like a gift that will never be given. No release ever, and he’ll make sure at the end they are begging at his feet.

Either way, Jin picks out the new family himself. He’ll watch them from a distance and happily act as a distant uncle until it's time to go to vacation island. Then he’ll make sure an ‘inheritance’ is set up.

[shini--chan]

May I request a birth scenario for the 2ps. You can do either side first and make 2 separate posts.

There is one ask further up in my ask box asking for the dreaded birth scenario with the 2p axis anyway, so I’ll just be doing the 2p allies for now. Warning for implied non-con, manipulation & coercion. You’re reading this at your own risk.

Yandere 2p! Allies – Dreaded Birth

America

“Not like you have much choice, cupcake”, Allen lazily drawled from his place next to you. He had tidied himself up for the birth, and it was downright surreal to see him in a blue overall with a hairnet and mask. Exhausted as you were from pressing the baby out, you had nearly not recognised him for a moment.

“You are not the mother of that…”, you began weakly only to be cut off by him.

“Yes, I’m the daddy and you are the mommy and you’ll act the part. Taking care of another human being will be good for your mental health. We talked about this sugar. You are just acting like this because you just had a difficult birth and post-partum depression is already setting in. Plus, you’re anxiety is showing again.”

Allen would quickly see what you are up to and would do his best to stamp it out as soon as possible. He would have possible caught on to your true feelings on the matter long before the deliver would have taken place with how you would be more emotional and prone to lash out in the weeks leading up to the event. As such, he would have a plan in mind to deal with you.

Would either take you to a small country hospital or a hippy commune to have the birth. There, he would either know the people very well, letting him be the more credible person in the room, or it would be a group of complete strangers that wouldn’t care about your fate and therefore have no incentive to intervene.

Would likely give you a joint or cannabis tea afterwards to make you calm down. Promises would be made and he would have a serious heart-to-heart conversation with you, doing his best to sway you. If else, the carrot and the stick will have to do.

Canada

Sighing Mark turned to the midwife, asking: “Mind leaving us alone for a minute? I have to have a word with my wife.”

“Please don’t go”, you stated. “I don’t want to be alone with him.”

Cassidy, as she was called, looked uncertain between you and Mark, not knowing who to heed. She probably also sensed that something foul was afoot, having likely been in similar situations before, situations where not everything was as it seem on the surface.

“I had a fight with my honey-buns before the contractions started. With everything that happened today, she is probs more mad at me than she usually would be.”

“Alright. I’ll just be by the door. When you have finished comforting her, not hesitate to shout”, the woman said somewhat hurriedly, and then scurried out of the room. Typical – she just wanted to believe what he had said, because the alternative would be so extremely troubling. Now you were alone with the wolf.

Mark could do his best to construct the situation as just an unfortunate series of events. Though, because he wouldn’t be the most sociable and suave guys, he would likely leave opening that you could easily exploit. Taking with the nurse a bit or some other person witnessing the awkward scenes, and you could have a very willing accomplice that could help you escape and even testify in court.

Aside from that, would sit on your bed and do a long lecture, while holding the baby in his arms. Would chide you of disturbing the sleep of the little one if you would raise your voice and reprimand you for being so heartless as to rejecting such a cute and helpless thing that would suffer dearly without your aid. If it initially wouldn’t work, then he would have the following weeks to convince you.

China

Zao raised a thin eye-brow, a rather emotional gesture for such a stoic man. Or at least, for when he wasn’t under the influence of anything. Ignoring your protests, he shoved the baby in your arms, forcing you to take it unless the small tumbled to the side of the narrow bed you had just given birth in and smash its head open. The midwives had just finished washing the wax off the pliable body and swaddled the boy in blankets. After handing the father his child, they had all filed out doubtlessly in accordance to some preplanned schedule.

This China wouldn’t leave much room for argument. He would ensure that events would be framed to make sure that out of the two of you, you would be viewed as the evil doer. The people around you would offer you a lot of unsolicited advice on child rearing and ensure that would be doing your job of a dutiful mother. Should you fail on doing that, they would be the ones to lecture you and shame you. That could or couldn’t be Zao’s intentions, yet the outcome would be that you would feel the pressure more acutely, since it wouldn’t just be some crazed faux-lover telling you what to do.

It would be one of those circumstances where he would continuously invite people over, just to force you into the role of mother. Other’s would gossip and look down on you if you wouldn’t, after all.

All the time, would act as if you are not protesting against motherhood – shoving the child in your arms, leaving you alone with him and assigning you the role of primary caretaker. He is not going to feed the boy, would you let the kid starve? You know that you could go to jail for child abuse if you’d do so.

England

Oliver giggled softly, bright blue eyes shining.

“What did you say, poppet?”, he asked brightly. His appearance made you step back. He was covered in blood, your blood to be exact, seeing that he had played midwife.

You had hoped that the deliver would have meant that you would have been allowed to see other people. Sadly, he had deftly dashed your hopes by doing the task himself. It shouldn’t have surprised you – the mere notion of you in somebody else’ arms drove him berserk.

“Nothing, dear”, you answered quietly, feeling tears well up in your eyes.

Oliver wouldn’t hesitate to go full batshit insane if you would ruin his dream of a happy little family. He would desire, no require a sweet little life with a darling sweet wife and a cute tyke to be happy, so don’t dare tear that away from him.

If you would insist on being difficult, he would go one of two routs. The first one would be dragging you to his personal torture chamber, disregarding that you just gave birth, and torturing you a few hours. You would only be allowed out every once in a while for a quick clean-up and to breastfeed the child.

Or he could play the long game by turning the child you would hate so much against you. Then he would have an ally in keeping your behaviour in check. Perhaps, that route would be so much to his liking that he would force another child on you and repeat the whole process.

France

Francois carelessly snipped the finished bud of his ciggerette towards the rublish bin. It missed and rolled on the floor, vanishing in an arc behind the bin. Sighing for the untempth time this hour already and looked up at you. You were staring at the craddle with bitter contempt, as if the squeaking child had gravely insulted you. This was slowly going too far. Sure, he had would also be more peeved if he would be bleeding from his genitals for over a month and stretched skin turned into a wrinkly flap of tissue. "It is not as if she tried to kill you so stop trying to set her on fire with your eyes", he tiredly commented. Affairs like this made him even more tired than usual. Maybe there was still some German beer in the fridge to calm his nerves. "And yet she still nearly did", you curtly snip back, all to happy to let out your anger now. Ah yes, there was that. On good days Francois could easily forget that you nearly died during childbirth. Partially, he had been angry at the baby for that, at least in the beginning, however, unlike you, he was a rational person and worked quickly to overcome his misgivings. - Francois' solution would just be to shrug off your responses and wait. Surely you would have only been hysterical at the moment and given a few weeks you would surely calm down. If not, then he would resort to violence - burns and choking and attempts to impregnate you again. - Though, that would only be the case if he would still want the child. If you could argue your case well enough, then he would put the child up for adoption. That would be the outcome anyway, if he would find the child to be too difficult he would give it away, regardless of your feelings on the matter.

Russia

Victor raised his eyebrows in askance and then his expression proceeded to melt into one of mirth. The usually stone expression vanished, the corners of his eyes crinkling and his mouth forming into a smile that had too many teeth. Hiding the lower half of his face inside his signature red scarf, he looked even more sinister. That was when it came to you - his happiness stemmed from giddy anticipation. You had just broke one of the rules in this elaborate game of cat and mouse, you had just given him an exuse to act out his crueller fantasies. Normally, you were more careful, but this time, you had lost it all because you had allowed your emotions to get the better of you for the fraction of a minute. Those red eyes, twinkled down at you as he carefully laid the buddled little babe in your lap. You felt a shiver run down your spin as he patted your messy hair. The gesture would be affectionate, if you didn't know him. Ice gathered in your belly and you found yourself frozen with dread. "I'll keep your words in mind", he said softly, and with that, you knew that you were doomed. - Victor would use this as an excuse to let out his pent up anger and frustration out on you. For a few weeks, you would become his emotion punching bag. Of course, it would be constructed so that you would likely not suffer permanent damage. Emphasise on likely, because that could change very quickly if would provoke him. While standardly a very collected man, when he would already be swimming in anger, he would lose all tolerance for bs. - During that time, he would still have you tend to the child. Your treatment of the little one would determine if your punishment would be extended or shortened as well as the intensity of it. Of course, he wouldn't tell you of this - it would just be more fun for him to have you figure it out yourself. - Such an "event" could occur again and again during the life of your child, depending on your behaviour towards them. Family is something that Victor would take extremely seriously.

[glittery-ishfish]

Official 2Ptalia Stuff

Trivia: Japan is technically the first 2P. That drawing of 2P!Japan with the pink backdrop is the earliest 2P art I found while searching Hima's blog, the file was called "Kuro_Nihosan".

[kikikyon]

Man I just made this blog and Im already planning 2 ask blogs Im on a roll

STAY TUNE!D!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[lady0ctavia]

What They'd Do for a First Date (Axis, Allies, & Nordics)

Something very quick because I just really wanted to get this idea out there. Also, I'm spending more and more time on my 2p!Prussia x Reader fic, but I wanted to make sure the rest of y'all are being fed.

So here are my headcanons on where I think a large chunk of the Hetalia boys would do for a first date!

Italy: While Feliciano's down for pretty much anything, he'd want to make sure the first date is something special. As such, he'd plan a nice, romantic dinner for the two of you where he cooks the food.

Germany: Ludwig would want to have the date at his house where you'd bake something together. He'd rather make either cake or bread. But he'd be open to hearing your ideas on what the two of you can bake.

Japan: I can see Kiku taking you to a painting class. Nothing super fancy or advanced, but something small, simple, and fun. Something where the two of you can delve into your creative side.

Prussia: Gilbert would 100% take you to the movies. He'd be down for seeing whatever you wanted to see, though he's more partial to action/adventure films. However, he wouldn't be opposed to horror, as he likes the idea of you getting scared and holding onto him.

Romano: Lovino will take you on a long walk around Rome sightseeing. He'd be pointing out every last bit of architecture you see and would recite a full history of everything. He's also the kind of guy to wanna take you on a boat ride.

America: Two words; amusement park. Alfred will absolutely take you to an amusement park or a state fair where you'd eat all kinds of fried foods, go on all of the rides, and, if it's a state fair, take you to the petting zoo. He'd also stress over planning the perfect kiss at the top of the Ferris wheel where the two of you'd watch the fireworks.

England: A first date with Arthur would be at a bookstore similar to that of Barnes and Noble. He'd want to look at different books with you and then chat about them over a cup of tea at an adjoining cafe.

France: I know it's kinda cliche at this point, but Francis would bring you to a fancy restaurant for a romantic, candle-lit dinner. Preferably in an area of the restaurant that is somewhat secluded. Hey, if it ain't broke don't fix it!

Russia: Ivan would simply want to go for a walk. Nothing big and fancy. He's perfectly content with something quiet and simple. He'd want to just stroll around town and chat about any of your shared likes or hobbies.

China: Maybe this is a little funny, seeing as he's so old, but Yao would take you to a museum. Mainly to constantly fact-check the workers there, as well as the displays. Especially if it's a Chinese museum. He's been around for 4000+ years, honey. He knows more than the people who work there.

Canada: Okay, this can go one of two ways. Matthieu would either take you on a nature walk through the beautiful Canadian woods, or he'd take you to a hockey game. Either way, the night will end with the two of you going in for a kiss, only to get interrupted by Mr. Kumajiro.

Denmark: I know this is gonna sound ridiculous, but Mathias would absolutely take you to the Lego Store. There is no way you can convince me that this man doesn't love Legos. He'd get cute little minifigures made of the two of you.

Sweden: I can see Berwald either being content with sitting at home and drinking hot cocoa, going to a musical performance of some kind, or, dare I say it, going to an IKEA and talking about what pieces of furniture would look the best in his or your living room.

Norway: Lukas would take you out into the woods late in the evening for the two of you to stargaze. He'd point out different constellations and tell you the stories behind them.

Finland: Alright, we all know Tino's a cutie, but don't let that adorable face deceive you. A first date with this man will either end up with him taking you to a heavy metal concert, or taking you out sharpshooting.

[enden-k]

Hey random question but how did u build Gallagher? His kit is confusing 😅

Any tips?

this is my current gallagher build

im currently waiting for huohuo lc to slap it on him since its rlly amazing but yea. tried multiplication out and i quite like it for the advanced turn and making gallagher act faster than he already is.

i used different lcs before that tho and while the gallagher one (what is real?) provides additional break effect, the healing only goes to himself and if you already have enough break effect (up to 150%) on him it is not rlly needed tbh. u should get enough from subs alone

but yea its all up to you and what u got ofc so i wont say much to that

now, gallagher scales with BE and you also want him rlly fast. his besotted state makes enemies receive more break damage while restoring allies HP when they attack marked enemies. if built right gallagher can instantly heal large amounts and often saves mates in tricky situations, i cant even count how often he saved my butt.

you focus on BE until max 150% (50% of his BE gets converted to outgoing healing w his passive) and SPD. mine is running on 2p messenger (SPD) and 2p shooting meteor (BE) with main focus on SPD and BE substats and i think he is the speediest i have now with firefly (only my boothill manages to squeeze himself before him akjcbsk) while providing v good heals. so yea, this is the best set you can give him i think. 2p messenger for SPD and 2p shooting meteor or watchmaker for BE.

for planar sphere and rope, im currently running broken keel for the lack of a good talia set and i havent done the new one yet to try out. all those 3 work fine on him. make sure to give him an energy regen rate rope !

always make sure when you wanna ult and hes about to have his turn, save it until its his actual turn. you can get him up to 3turns alone and quickly heal/cleanse if needed (go E or basic attack if you need SP, then Q and then E or enhanced attack)

idk if i make much sense, missed smth or if im much help, its very late rn. hope it did tho!! lmk if things are unclear, my friends always ask me abt builds and teams in gnshn and hsr and i love to help where i can !!

[hetalia-angel]

What are the 1p/2p allies favorite hobbies?

-🎀

Hobbies

1p Allies

Canada- His favorite hobbies range from playing hockey, taking long nature walks and hikes, sledding, and kayaking.

America- Alfred’s favorite secret hobby is star gazing. He’d never admit it to anyone but he’s a total nerd for space and often looks out his telescope into the great night sky.

France- Francis is a total hater and no one can convince me otherwise. His favorite hobby is gossiping about anything and everyone.

England- Arthur’s favorite hobby is a mix of knitting, crocheting, and embroidery. He’s not the best but it’s the thought that counts. I headcanon that Oliver taught him the basics. He gets the thread and yarn tangled sometimes but it makes him happy nonetheless.

Russia- His favorite hobby is cooking with friends and family. Ivan enjoys being close to his love ones and tasting the most delectable Russian delicacies.

China- Yao is a collector of all things; this list ranges from plushies, figurines, dolls, and even posters. On the other hand he’s severely proud of his country and cuisine and always cooks for any guests or occasion.

2p Allies

England- Oliver’s favorite hobby is obviously baking no one trusts it but he still creates masterpieces. Another hobby that not most know is his love of card games; especially games like bridge.

France- François is an absolute prodigy at gambling and scamming others out of money. When he’s not gambling he’s often lounging around and smoking cigarettes. His lungs have got to be black after 100 years of smoking.

Russia- Viktor likes to stay sharp the more you know the easier it is to get what you want from others he’s always continuing his studies. Viktor’s very well versed in most things so he’d make an excellent tutor.

America- Allen recently got very into urban exploration. Those small abandoned Midwest towns catch his interest to no end. He finds himself going late at night to explore each nook and cranny.

China- Xao’s addictions consume his life and he’s always looking for the next plug. While Yao is similar to the nations’ grandfather Xao is the opposite. He’s more of a fun loving older brother who’s always seeking out excitement.

Canada- Matthieu acts like an old man always on a strict schedule. His favorites hobbies are hockey, whittling, hunting and especially hiking. He’s spent days on end hiking up mountains in the countryside.

[hellonerf]

2p allies

[milaisreading]

If the 1p countries would immediately help y/n to hide a dead without questioning it then imagine how would it go if she asked the same thing to the 2p's.

Yn, thinking to herself: I will kill Denmark for this! Why are they so eager to hide a supposed dead body....

2p!Italy: Don't worry your little head, mia bella! I know just the right people to help. Wait!

Yn: Who?

2p!Italy ignores her while dialing a phone number.

Yn: WHO?!

2p!Germany: I didn't know you had it in yourself to kill someone, proud of you! Let me dispose of that body. Where is it?

Yn:...

2p!Japan: I will do that. My katana is just sharp enough to slice through skin and bone. I know good hiding spots,too.

Yn: Good... good to know- America, where are you and Canada going?

2p!America: Don't worry about it, we need to find you an alibi

2p!Canada: And a scapegoat who we can pin this on

Yn: what?!

2p!America: Afterwards we can dispose of the body.

2p!England: Let me dispose of it! I need new ingredients for my cupcakes!

Yn:... Won't you say anything?

2p!France: No. Also, how do you want me to get rid of the body? Should there nothing be left, or do you want a souvenir?

2p!Russia: I will get rid of it for you and teach you how to do it. For the next time.

Yn: N...next time?

2p!China: Next time, invite me over for it! We can treat it like a date.

Yn, dialing Sweden's phone number*

Sweden: Hello?

Yn: Get me out of here!!!

[universe-in-the-void-in-the-cube]

My headcanon bio for 2P Finland

Finally got him updated and fleshed out. This is my version of 2P Finland. Take it or leave it.

Also if anyone wants to RP this version of 2P Finland let me know so I can follow them.

Character Profile: 2P Finland (Thurston Väinämöinen)

Basic Information:

Full Name: Thurston Väinämöinen

Nickname: "The Iceman"

Age: 20

Birthday: June 6

Species: Personification of Finland

Nationality: Finnish

Sex: Male

Gender: Cisgender Male

Preferred Pronouns: He/Him

Romantic Orientation: Heteroromantic

Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual

Religion: None

Occupation: Leader of a militant faction

Status: Active member of his faction

Fandom: Hetalia

Face Claim: N/A

Relationships:

Parents: Unknown

Siblings: Unknown

Family: Unknown

Significant Other(s): None (but potential for romantic development)

Children: None

Closest Friends: Allies from chaotic factions primarily composed of like-minded individuals who share his ideals.

Rivals: 1P Finland (the main contrast to his chaotic beliefs)

Enemies: Various authorities and opposing factions seeking to maintain order.

Physical Traits:

Eye Color: Striking cherry red, glowing with intensity and determination, often unsettling to others.

Hair Color: Bleach-blond, short and messy indicating a chaotic lifestyle; practical enough for combat but wild enough to reflect his personality.

Height: 5'7" (originally listed incorrectly as 6'1")

Weight: 166 lbs.

Body Build: Muscular and stocky, indicating years of combat training and experience.

Notable Physical Traits: Battle scars that tell stories of past confrontations, a rugged beard, and a strong jawline contribute to his intimidating appearance.

Phobias and Diseases:

Phobia: Fear of emotional vulnerability and the isolation that successively follows.

Mental Health: No formal diagnosis, but struggles with internal conflict and aggression.

Physical Health: No known physical diseases.

Personality:

Usual Mood/Expression: Intense and aggressive, displaying maniacal glee in action-packed moments.

Moral Alignment: Chaotic neutral; operates outside traditional moral frameworks.

Jung Typology: ESTP ("Entrepreneur"), characterized by spontaneous action and a love for challenges.

Enneagram Type: Type 8 ("The Challenger"); represents a strong-willed and assertive nature.

Four Temperaments: Choleric; driven and assertive with a strong desire to lead.

Astrological Sign: Gemini; suggesting a duality of character with complexity in thoughts and emotions.

Hogwarts House: Slytherin; embodies ambition and cunning traits.

Top Five Tropes: Anti-Hero, Dark and Troubled Past, Emotional Beast, Leader of the Pack, Charismatic Tough Guy.

Five Prominent Traits: Aggressive, Charismatic, Unpredictable, Complex, and a natural Leader.

Miscellaneous:

Skills: Proficient in hand-to-hand combat, strategic planning, and an adept survivalist.

Hobbies: Training in combat drills, devising survival strategies, and engaging in anarchic debates.

Element: Fire, embodying his fierce and aggressive nature.

Animal: Wolf, representing loyalty, strength, and a pack mentality.

Plant: Thorn bush symbolizes his defensive and rugged demeanor.

Additional Notes: Thrives on chaos and seeks the adrenaline rush that accompanies confrontation.

Stats:

Compassion: 0/10

Empathy: 0/10

Creativity: 3/10 (tactically creative in combat settings)

Mental Flexibility: 4/10

Passion/Motivation: 9/10

Education: 3/10

Stamina: 8/10

Physical Strength: 9/10

Battle Skill: 9/10

Initiative: 7/10

Restraint: 1/10

Agility: 7/10

Strategy: 7/10

Teamwork: 5/10 (only when it aligns with his goals)

Musical-Rhythmic Intelligence: 1/10

Visual-Spatial Intelligence: 4/10

Verbal-Linguistic Intelligence: 3/10

Logical-Mathematical Intelligence: 5/10

Bodily-Kinesthetic Intelligence: 8/10

Interpersonal Intelligence: 4/10

Intrapersonal Intelligence: 5/10

Existential Intelligence: 6/10

Naturalistic Intelligence: 2/10

Physical Appearance:

Build: His muscular and stocky frame shows a commitment to rigorous training, making him an imposing figure in confrontational situations.

Height: Standing at approximately 5'7", he uses his stature to assert dominance when possible.

Hair: His purposely messy bleach-blond hair complements his chaotic lifestyle; he favors functionality, often pulling it back during battles.

Eyes: The cherry red of his eyes possesses a captivating yet unsettling quality, signifying both passion and danger.

Facial Features: A strong jawline and rugged beard contribute to his enduring toughness. Scars tell tales of past battles and tumultuous experiences; his intense expressions convey a mixture of confidence, aggression, and underlying victimization.

Clothing: His attire is practical and tailored for survival rather than aesthetics—a military-style camouflage jacket layered over a black tank top, rugged combat pants teeming with pockets for gear and ammunition.

Accessories: Heavy-duty combat boots merge protection with agility. He wears tactical gloves for maximum grip and a utility belt for critical survival tools, enhancing his functionality in combat. Occasionally, he dons a bandana or mask, underscoring his readiness for confrontations.

Personality:

Thurston embodies a perplexing blend of charisma, aggression, and unpredictability. His leadership style is defined by a drill-sergeant mentality, demanding loyalty and discipline from followers while relishing the chaos surrounding them. His strict adherence to strength as a virtue manifests in a dark sense of humor that scrutinizes societal norms.

Notably, Thurston's charisma is rugged, allowing him to inspire loyalty through strength, although it simultaneously alienates him from genuine emotional connections. Beneath the fierce exterior lurks a complex individual wrestling with profound fears—particularly the fear of vulnerability and isolation.

Background:

Thurston's formative years were shaped by an unforgiving environment, where he quickly learned that competition was vital for survival. The narrative of trust being a weakness led him to cultivate a worldview centered around strength, leading him into gangs and militant groups that echoed his beliefs.

His adolescence was marked by violence and tumult, sharpening his strategic capabilities and further cementing his chaotic outlook. This rugged upbringing ultimately earned him a reputation as a fierce opponent, teaching him that in a world dominated by chaos, one must be ready to manipulate and confront others to retain power and control.

Goals:

Thurston seeks to establish a dominion where only the strongest can thrive, envisioning a world where societal collapse makes way for a new natural order. His ultimate ambition is to lead a faction that echoes these beliefs, positioning himself as central to this redefined societal structure, necessitating conflict with those who represent order.

Needs:

Thurston’s prime need for respect and fear directly fuels his ego. He struggles with complex companionship needs, equating loyalty with strength, often pushing potential allies away as he seeks validation through his aggressive demeanor.

Moreover, an intrinsic fear of being labeled weak drives him to maintain a façade of invulnerability, complicating his ability to accept emotional vulnerability or connection.

Motivations:

Thurston’s motivations root deeply in a belief referencing survivalism, fixating on the idea that strength is the ultimate asset. He intentionally places himself in confrontational scenarios, perpetually pushing the boundaries of reckless behavior to validate his worldview.

His commitment to adrenaline-driven adventures comes from a place where danger is both alluring and terrifying, resulting in a cycle of compulsive hedonism that encapsulates his existence.

Internal Conflicts:

Thurston faces a fundamental conflict between his aggressive nature and a burgeoning awareness of emotions. His contempt for emotional bonds clashes with unexpected moments of longing for connection, generating a tension that often leads to self-destructive behavior in his relationships.

External Conflicts:

Thurston is often embroiled in conflicts with those upholding order—the ideological contrast between himself and 1P Finland illustrates this struggle. Moreover, his interactions frequently lead to skirmishes with authority figures, accentuating his existential desire for autonomy, which solidifies his rebellious identity.

Relationships:

Allies: A mix of similarly inclined individuals from various chaotic factions allows Thurston to garner strength through collective belief.

Rivals: The rivalry with 1P Finland signifies the ideological divide between chaos and order, serving as a catalyst for Thurston’s emotional exploration and journey.

Romantic Interests: While potential romantic partners are intrigued by his depth, Thurston’s aggressive persona often proves intimidating and off-putting. His internal battle between attraction and fear of emotional bonds creates an enriching complexity in his romantic plots.

Overall Theme:

Thurston's character encapsulates the ongoing struggle between chaos and order, strength versus emotional vulnerability. His journey prompts a contemplation of the delicate balance between power and compassion, challenging societal norms around strength, leadership, and the necessity of emotional connections.

General Plot Ideas:

Crisis of Leadership: Thurston faces the challenge of maintaining authority while grappling with the need for negotiation, exposing his vulnerabilities.

Emotional Bonding: A connection with a pacifist character propels Thurston to reevaluate his beliefs on strength versus vulnerability.

Apocalyptic Scenario: Encountering the chaos he craved forces him to confront the reality of his desires, challenging his totalitarian view of survival.

Romantic Plot Ideas:

Challenge of Loyalty: A romantic counterpart emerges, revealing a perspective that contrasts his brute beliefs, compelling him to reconsider his methods and views on connection.

Conflicted Rivalry: A dynamic with a rival character emerges, revealing the tension between strength and compassion, prompting growth and inner conflict.

[my2phetaliaheadcanons]

I'm choosing tragedy today. Can I have Yandere allies with a darling that's pregnant ( by them ). She's been trying her best to make it work with them ( but the Yanderes can tell that it's not out of love, it's out of the fact that they'll be having a kid soon ), but it's very hard for her. Soon the stress of being kidnapped and forced to do things against your will caught up to the darling. It caused her to miscarriage. They can remember that dreeded day. The darling was streaming, yelling at that it was all their fault and they had killed their baby with their sick fantasy. From that day on, the darling grew cold and bitter towards them. It's gotten to the point they hardly ( if at all!!! ) considers their existence, and it seems that they'll never let up. I need something very angst-y and depressing please.

FYI: This one is heavy. It took me almost a year to write for this one and I wanted to do it justice. So, I hope it was worth the wait. 

Night’s freezing rain beat like a lover’s wounded heart against the old roof. The gentle, constant thrum mixed with the squeak of an old glider were the only sounds that filled the dark nursery.

(Y/N)’s unsteady rocking matched the wet, glazed look in her (E/C) eyes as the empty, white cradle hypnotized her.

Its somber whispers coiled around her. Reminding her of what she had lost, and what could never be. Her damaged fingernails cracked as she dug into the stained wood as the dark thoughts continued. How HE had taken the one drop of pure sunlight that had appeared in months.

A shrill creak accompanied by a harsh beam of white light broke the tormentor’s fantasy. (Y/N) didn’t react, only gliding in the cushioned chair.

Softly, he called her name. A gentle plea for her attention, reaction, anything to prove that his beloved was still alive.

The repetition of her name and pet names grew as his thunderous, slow steps grew closer. Her own frustration bubbled up in the form of dark tears. A low dog-like growl grew from her throat the closer he came.

When his hand touched the chair, stopping the sway. (Y/N) snapped.

“GET OUT!” She stood, barring her teeth. “You have no right to mourn for what you killed! For what you’ve taken from me!”

Wailing, (Y/N) continued her verbal gnashing. Letting the disgusting flood waters flow from the haunted swamp it had been trapped in.

As the tears began to shutter like the slow change of the tide, (Y/N) laid one more verbal sting. “I never loved you.” She laughed hysterically. “The only thing you were good for was being a sperm donor!”

America: The black, leather gloves wrinkled harshly against Allen’s fists. His teeth clicked as he ground them like metal gears forced to a sudden stop.

“I’m” His hand tightened on the glider.” tired of your shit!” The chair clattered and splintered as the force of the push caused it to become embedded in the nursery wall.

Gasping, (Y/N) attempted to stagger back yet Allen followed, offering her no relief. Closing the gap until they were only a hair apart. His finger bruised her breast as he jabbed into the supple flesh.

“He” Allen’s voice wavered as tears pricked his eyes like pins. “Was my son too, and for a time we were happy. You accepted me as your husband. And we WILL be happy again.”

Allen backed up; his flushed face paired with pained tears. “Just give me more time.”

Canada: Matt was silent and stiff as the words reverberated off the nursery walls like a mortuary bell.

(Y/N) watched as he inhaled deeply, filling his lungs to the point that the bandages around his chest strained to hold the powerful muscles back. He spoke with the exhale; frustration leaking into his tone like a cracked dam ready to burst.

“I understand your hurtin, Maple. But there ain’t any reason to take it out on me.”

Guffawing in shock, (Y/N) could only gasp before she began to spit her venom like a spited Sahara serpent. Numbering her woes like the course, grains of sand in a blood-red desert. Hissing as she described how each moment of forced obedience was as if he stroked her thin skin with a Cholla cactus, leaving slivers of spines and ruby rivers in its wake.

“ENOUGH!”

His roar shook the room, ceramic figurines tinkled as they rattled, and books shifted on shelves as (Y/N) was silenced mid-word.

Still, as the nursery statues, (Y/N) remained frozen as Matt stalked closer. Their eyes locked as predator and prey.

Matt’s heavy breathing fanned her paling face. Whispering, “Enough”. Scarred hands cupped (Y/N)’s face, leading her closer to him. Foreheads softly bumped as they touched. “I get it, Maple. It hurts, and that pain will never go away. But I will remain, even as you fight me, to ease that pain.”

France: (Y/N)’s eyes widened as she slapped a hand against her (L/C) lips. She whimpered like a scared child at the realization of her grave mistake.

She had dared to insult her tormentor. The man that claimed love, but instead showed obsession. A man that privately destroyed anyone that dared to injure his pride.

When François sighed, (Y/N) flinched. Muscles tense for pain and punishment, but he made no move to her. Instead, the frumpy Frenchman reached into his back pocket, seeming not affected by his wife's sharp insults.

He shuffled for a moment before revealing a box of blue and white box Gauloises cigarettes and a simple, black, Zippos lighter. With a quick flick and click, François lit the cancer stick and lifted it to his lips. Taking a long, slow drag before letting the smoke blow like a dragon’s fire.

“Cher,” His voice rumbled like a car driving on gravel. “Are you done?”

“No-o. I’ll never be done.” (Y/N) choked on her whimpers as she backed up shakily. “I’ll always hate you.”

Another sigh from François, this one heavier like a man tired of fighting an uphill battle as he made his way to her glider. The chair creaked as his weight fully settled into it.

The calloused hand with the lit cigarette was outstretched. Inviting her into his lap. (Y/N) didn’t move, only shaking further as she pushed herself against the bars of the white cradle.

“Come, to me Cher. Let’s dream of what our life could have been had our bébé remained with us.” His hand remained out, fingers and palm relaxed further. “And when you are ready, we can try again, but we will never forget our first.”

England: As her final syllable echoed off the pastel, nursery walls, Oliver's look of shock slowly morphed into something more sinister. His cool, blue eyes darkened into the pink slits of an angered Cheshire cat, while his lips rose to show off the large, sharp canines that looked ready to paint themselves with her blood.

“Now, Poppet.” He purred tightly. “Let’s not ruin tonight by acting like the last few months haven’t been wonderful. After all.” His smile sharpened. “I have quite the surprise in store.”

(Y/N) scoffed challengingly as she looked away. Her wet eyes burned holes in the white carpet as she dropped her voice down to a choked whisper. “We weren’t happy. It was a lie to keep my child safe. And now they're gone.”

Oliver’s hardened stare softened. “Not quite dearest.”

As the pastel-dressed man stepped to the left. he revealed a small child standing in the doorway. The light from the hall creating a small halo around their head. The fluffy hair on top of his little head appeared to be made of the softest strawberry-blond silk that curled at the top of his ears. His pale, freckled face was flushed red as his (E/C) eyes bubbled with unshed tears.

(Y/N) noticed that his lips trembled as his tiny hands nervously tugged at the corduroy overalls. Never looked at her, but at the floor, as he slowly shuffled away from their captor.

“Oliver, where did you get this child?”

The questioned man smiled. Though, this one was different from the tight one given moments before. This one was still large, but genuine, warm like the end of a summer day. Somehow that sent a chill colder than the winds of hell down (Y/N)’s spine.

“Poppet, don’t you recognize our son?”

Russia: As (Y/N)’s shout turned to silence; she sneered at her captor. Arms crossed and teeth bared like a starving dog in a fighting ring ready to resist any punishment Viktor would lay.

 Instead of the monotone lecture and bruising grasp of his bare hands, Viktor was silent and still. His frown was slight, but his eyes told a silent tragedy. His dull crimson irises appeared darker than normal, almost lifeless by the heavy, purple bags that hung underneath them. His brown hair was unkept rather than the neat sweep of its usual style.

“Милый,” He rumbled with a deep sigh, “I, understand that I am at fault. I caused you too much stress.” Viktor moved closer to (Y/N), his heavy winter boots sinking into the plush carpet with each step. “Destroyed your health to the point your body could no longer maintain our child.”

On Viktor went, rattling off minor inconveniences as if they were deadly poisons that lead to the death of their child. Each one sent (Y/N) further back until her back smacked against the wall. Her cold hands clawed against the painted material searching for something to put between her and the mad beast.

A loud slam against the wooden wall resonated through the room as Viktor placed his hands against the wall. (Y/N) froze, trapped by the large arms of her ‘husband’. Their eyes were locked, red ones full of grief and stress while the (E/C) eyes contained only fear.

His whispers of atonement only increased her fear. Killed her belief that she would ever be free.

China: (Y/N) watched Jin’s eyes shut as he took a deep breath. Then another, his hands curling into tight fists before releasing in time with his breathing.

Like the slow ticking on a clock before a big event, his breathing eventually steadied. His red eyes opened like the heavy, iron gates of castles in eras past.

The tranquil rose-red garden that once lay within his eyes was no more. Withered and greyed flowers were what now remained inside. Almost like the weight of loss had begun to reveal Jin’s true age.

“I know, but will you still join me at her memorial?”

"Memorial?" 

"Yes, Qin. Though she never made it to this plane." Jin's breath shuttered as he held back tears. "She still deserved to be honored as if she did."

He held out his hand toward her. A broken smile on his lips as he silently urged her to take his hand. To begin the process of healing. 

Quietly, (Y/N) opened her mouth. No sound left her, not even the squeak of a syllable. She shook her head, licking her lips as she lifted her hand. Hesitantly placing it into his. 

"Ok."

[shini--chan]

May I request 2p allies making their s/o mute as a punishment for trying to run for help.

⚫〰️⚫ Thank you

Alright, as the ask indicates, it is not a never family friendly post that awaits you up ahead. Excluding 2p Canada this time, since I had difficulty coming up with another form of mutness other than those described via the other characters.

This came out later than planned due to time management issues on behalf of the author. Nevertheless, enjoy!

Trigger warnings: body horror, physical abuse, emotional abuse, mutilation, misuse of medical procedures, drugging, malnutrition, dark magic

Yandere 2p! Allies - Silence is Gold

America

Allen would loathe to admit it, but he had come to like you when you were quiet. Aside from that, you looked so cute with your neck bandaged up. And those glares and petulant expressions you made! Oh, if he had known how agreeable you’d become after losing your voice, he would have done this far sooner. 

That being said, it had been an accident - he hadn’t wanted to punch you in the throat, but you just had to jump in the way, when he was busy teaching that bastard a lesson. Therefore, he had had no choice but to cut open your throat to ensure you could continue breathing. 

When you leaned down to take his plate, you purposely bumped his shoulder. Yes, you were still very upset with him about what had happened. However, the feeling was mutual. He slapped your arse when you straightened up again. 

It caused you to perform a little jump and then glare at him. 

“If I had known that you’d look so sexy with something around your neck, I would have bought you a set of chokers long ago, dollface. Don’t worry though - you look good with the bloodstained gauze as well”, he slyly complimented you. Oh, how it infuriated you. 

You had tried to talk a few times these past days, causing the wound on your neck to reopen and weep plasma and blood everytime you did. As it was, you were lucky that you had gotten antibiotics, or else Allen would have been far stricter with you. 

Petty as you could be, turned your back on him and flipped the bird as you marched back to the kitchen. At this, Allen could prevent himself from laughing. 

Allen actually wouldn’t want to rob you of your voice, since half the fun in having you is that you talk back. However, he would discover the benefits of muting you after he would have to do it in some shape of form. Once doing so, he would find this experience refreshing and seek to replicate it multiple times in the future. Here, you would really be in danger of losing your voice permanently if you aren’t able to curb his … preferences. 

The problem here is that he would find your muteness and the injuries connected to it to be unbelievably arousing. In ways, your life would biome harder than it already is thanks to that.

China

Could you really be blamed for panicking in a situation such as this? The rush of hysteria made the binds tying you down to the table seem even tighter than they were, and you felt like you were suffocating, no matter how fast you breathed. The air was too hot and your clothes too scratchy, with the latter made all the worse by the fact that you were coated in grim and your own dried sweat.

To your left, you heard Zao approach you. Since your head was fastened to the table, you only could see him once he appeared in your periphery. There was a horrid grin on his face, that stood in complete juxtaposition to what he said.

"My heart, this is really something I don't want to do, but you leave me with no choice."

You wanted to retort, but thought better of it just in the nick of time. He had a brown glass bottle at hand, and you didn't like all the warning labels on it, nor how close it was to your mouth. 

"But give in and swallow, I promise to help you with your recovery if you comply", he told you in a sickly sweet tone as if he was talking to a child. As much as you wanted to shake your head, you couldn't. By now, you were trembling. 

Two fingers pinched your nose firmly. After a few seconds, you started to become lightheaded and you heard and felt your blood pounding. Opening your mouth wouldn't be an option, since the bottle would immediately be emptied into your mouth if you did that. So instead, you opened the corner of your mouth and tried to breathe as discreetly as possible. 

To no avail. The fingers that were on your nose went for your mouth and pried your lips apart. As valiantly as you struggled, the bottle still went in. The fluid caused your throat to burn, and when you accidentally breathed some of it, you let out a hapless scream of pain. 

His method of muting you would be more permanent - rendering your vocal cords and throat useless by forcing you to drink acid or poison. This would either be the response to a multitude of transgressions, or him being particularly ticked off by an escape.

A side effect of this would be that you would be unable to swallow food or drink. But he would be there to help you, either by feeding you through a tube, an IV or by supplying you through your back door (i.e your rectum). This would serve as an extension of the original punishment. Additionally, you would be helpless and reliant on him. 

England

When you finally woke up, you felt groggy and heavy, each of your limbs made of lead and your mouth full of cotton. Sleep drunk, you opened your eyes and eased yourself to a more upright position. 

Not that it was more comfortable - there were kinks and knots in your back that only a professional massage could relieve you from. Why the hell had you fallen asleep here of all places? You were seated in an old dentist car, the once royal red faded. The contraption creaked ominously whenever you moved.

This was getting weirder and weirder by the moment. The twilight of the room you were in didn't help.

Your mouth felt dry and slightly numb, and your lips subsequently cracked. You parted your lips and wanted to run your tongue over the dried skin only to discover that you didn't have a tongue anymore. 

Cold shock made you bolt upright and all at once, the world shifted into sharp clarity. Once again, you tried to stretch your tongue out only for nothing to move, not a stump. That was when you started to panic.

Lungs heaved as you tried to explain the situation to yourself. There was absolutely no pain, you weren't feeling weak. The taste of blood was absent, and the bitter sting of iodine or saline solution wasn't present either. 

In your panic, you opened your mouth and stuck your fingers inside to feel for your tongue. It had been completely removed down to the root. There wasn't even puckered skin where the muscle would have begun. Tears started to leak from your eyes and you tried to force a few miserable sounds out of your mouth. 

"Now, now don't engage in self-pity. You did bring this on yourself, my rose bud."

The blood in your veins turned to ice, and you halted your frantic movement. Despite the dim lighting of the underground room, you could clearly see Oliver Kirkland. He was seated on a red satin loveseat, and in the jar he had balanced on his knee was your tongue. 

Oliver would use magic to completely remove your tongue from your mouth, aiming to insite as much panic in you as possible. As such, you'll only find out what he has done after completion of the procedure. 

Instead of helping you to deal with the situation, he would mock you relentlessly. Furthermore, he would place the blame on you - it was you that ran away, it was you that forced his hand; everything that went wrong is your fault. The jar with your tongue in it would be placed in a spot that you'd have a hard time overlooking. A taunt, and a reminder that the amputation is only temporary. You just have to play being a good spouse for long enough and then he'd give you your tongue back. 

France

Putrid pus stained the sheets as he pulled them away. Yesterday the colour had been yellow, but now it had a slight green tint to it. Francois brushed his fringes out of his face and tied his hair back to a sloppy ponytail. 

With a soft sigh, and placed the bandages and tincture bottles on the bed next to you and tilted your head towards him. Sickness and the corresponding fever made your sleep deep, unlike it usually was. You didn't even stir when he lifted your head onto his lap. 

At this point, it was up for debate what was sealing your lips more - the rough stitches or the infection. The swelling had distorted your mouth, so much so that it was beginning to block your nose and hinder your breathing. 

Cursing softly under his breath, he set out to drain the pus from the needle wounds. He shouldn't have used the expired saline solution, yet you had given him no choice. You had been so busy thrashing and screaming around when he had sown your mouth shut. 

Francois still didn't understand why you had put up such a fuss. The punishment was deserved and it made your resistance all the more pathetic. Seriously, had you really thought he would take you escaping lightly? How could you delude yourself into thinking he wouldn't take all those vile words that you had uttered upon being brought home to heart?

The pus drenched bandages were thrown into the bin, and he proceeded to down the injured tissue with iodine. You groaned in your sleep, and tried to open your mouth. A noticeable tremor ran down your body, and you stopped straining against the stitches. 

Perhaps it was better that you were lost in a haze. It gave your captor more time to think and calm down. 

Francois would elect to make your muteness temporary, but with some caveats. You'd wear scars around your mouth for the rest of your life and the mental and physical trauma would haunt you for years to come. Such a situation would have a high potential of arising if you poured your heart out to somebody else and incited them to help you escape. 

Russia

This was getting more tiring by the hour. Slowly, you were asking yourself if this really was a punishment, or if it was one of Victor's loathsome social experiments.  loathsome social experiments. They both tended to be alike, so it was hard to tell on a normal day. 

“If you keep glaring at me like that, your face will distort to a permanent frown”, the man in question remarked. The knife repeatedly scraped over the wood in his hand, causing shavings to fly with every stroke of the blade. He didn’t even look up from his whittling when he said that. How rude. 

Feeling petulant, you knicked a stone in the river. It was a nice day to be outdoors - the spring air was filled with the sweet smell of flowers, and the sun was shining through the birch tree. Though, you couldn’t bring yourself to be happy, not when he had brought you to the spot where he had captured you a mere week ago, picnic basket at hand. 

You had difficulty swallowing every other bite, and also keeping it down. Now that bastard even insisted on staying a bit longer to enjoy the alleged peace and quiet that the forest offered. 

With how frustrated you were, you opened your mouth in order to say something, only to receive a smack to the face with the flat side of the knife the second you opened your mouth. In shock, you quickly closed your mouth again and looked at him aghast. 

This time, he was even meeting your eyes. 

“You know the agreement, so don’t break it by talking now.”

Mutness wouldn’t even be the intended punishment at first - it would be offered as a second, milder option to a harsher punishment. Victor would have a habit of giving you an option of choosing between two or more punishments. It would be to give you an illusion of power over your own fate and an opportunity to assuage your character. Mind you, he would never give you the full details of the punishments that you can choose from. 

In this case, he would enforce a “voluntary silence” upon you. You would have to refrain from speaking for a certain time interval, or else suffer a harsher punishment. This is one of his games with you, that would be designed to mould your personality to his liking. Also, this would be a form of discipline training for you. 

[1p2p-heta-imagines]

Can you do the domestic lives the 2p axis and allies want too?

2p N. Italy will be the one working, he just wants his S/O to have a relaxed life and he makes enough money for them to do that. He absolutely refuses having kids, he doesn’t want to potentially mess them up.

2p S. Italy is happy to be more of a househusband, he’s used to looking after people so it’s second nature to him, he’d love a child or two to have running around, he thinks they’re adorable.

2p Germany would prefer to be a househusband than work, he’s not the best at holding down a job anyway. For children, it’s a mixed bag, he loves kids but he hates raising them.

2p Japan is happy being a househusband, he doesn’t really like to go out at all so working is awful to him. He doesn’t want kids at all, he just can’t deal with children or their antics.

2p America would prefer to be the one working but he struggles to find employment so he knows it likely won’t end up that way, they’ll probably both work. As for children, he’s very hesitant, the idea scares him.

2p England would prefer 50/50, he doesn’t want them to do all the housework but he doesn’t want them to be the only one working either. He’s happy to split it up because that’s fair to him. He’d love a big family.

2p Canada is another that prefers the work be 50/50. He likes to do housework, he likes to work, it fills up time. When it comes to children, he’s hesitant because of how he was as a kid but the idea of a child is appealing.

2p France says he hates kids but he always takes care of them so he’d secretly like one of his own. Househusband nor working is that good to him, he just doesn’t have the motivation to do either.

2p China is unbothered: he’s fine to be the sole worker, he’s fine to stay at home, he’s fine if they both work, he really just goes with whatever they want. He’s taken care of enough children in his life to not want more.

2p Russia prefers to work, mostly because he likes the predictability and the routine of work. As for children, he’s not the biggest fan of children, nor does he have any idea how to raise them.