#Hetalia lore

[dark-and-kinky-hetalia-scenarios]

Hi, can I request the darkest fantasies of yandere axis members?✨️

I love how you sent this 10 min after i started posting. I love you for it btw, you are now the subject of my yandereness. Congrats! (lol) I will also do the 2ps just for you:D

Anyways here are the fantasies!

1p Germany/Ludwig Beilschmidt

So wants someone to be like a yandere towards him as well, in the bedroom preferably. Basically he wants to be loved like he loves, and he wants to be so secure in the relationship that he can give up all control in the bedroom sexy times

1p Italy/Feliciano Vargas

He wants to let go of all that holds him back and have the trust of his darling for free use basically, this doesn't mean he'll do something you have as a hard limit, it just means that he can do what he wants when he wants and you'll be eager and willing, to a certain extent of course. He doesn't want to really hurt you though

1p Japan/Kiku Honda

He knows this one isn't realistic as he doesn't have magic but he really wants to try to live out hardcore hentai scenarios like tentacles (he is in control of them)

2p Germany/Lutz Beilschmidt

The thought of having someone so devoted to him they would encourage him to kill anyone who looks at his partner is really hot to him. And then ofc fucking them so hard they need medical care while still loving it and begging for it.

2p Italy/Luciano Vargas

Blood, he wants to do all sorts of unspeakable things with blood, period blood, normal blood, doesn't matter. Though never to the point of a blood transfusion unless his blood is compatible and being used for it. The thought of you with his blood is a major turn on. But if you tried to leave him he'd do it if you don't have the same blood types, so you can never leave him

2p Japan/Kuro Honda

so i think for him and a childhood friend it would be to give each other a bit of your souls. Binding you forever, akin to soul mates, meaning that you can keep each other alive with this connection and all sorts of crazy things. And yes reaching out to touch the other's soul via this connection can be very pleasurable and is also part of his desire. The dark part of this is that he will basically own you, as he is proficient in soul magic, a magic anyone can do regardless of other magical abilities, also the hardest form of possible magic. He is so possessive that he wants to effectively own his partner for all eternity, woooo

Some Lore lol

so i haven't touched much on the magic system in my version of this world, but soul magic is what keeps 1p Prussia and 1p Romano alive, as their brothers unknowingly share a part of their souls with them, making that as long as the brother lives, so does said "should not be alive" country

Kuro knows this magic because he's an opportunist and he has a Katana blessed by the gods and it can take his victims souls (including his own, which is why he's super protective of it) and it powers him physically, making him dangerous as fuck. He's the last person you'd want to fuck with, and most of the other 2ps are not aware of this because he keeps his most powerful card a secret. He's not seen as a super powerful 2p, in reality he is one of if not the strongest, this comes through through many aspects, such as a high intelligence, tactical knowledge, charisma, and soul magic.

[acemapleeh]

So I think a fairly well accepted take on nations is that their animal companion gains the same immortality that the nation has for being in constant close proximity of them.

I propose that this also applies to clothing, furniture, paintings, homes, etc. Anything that fills their homes, their daily routines, and the same space as each other.

The degradation process is extremely slowed.

They're not indestructible but natural aging won't completely deteriorate these items held so close.

Museums are grateful for their touch of presence helps the items keep just a little longer and catch an extra gleam of youth.

In times of hardship, the items begin to show glimpses of the years that have really past.

[a-dorky-american]

Guys...

Guys...

G U Y S . . .

America writes his own newspapers???

[sunnylolli]

I’m sorry but I am dying at the idea of Sealand a literal infant having a masters degree in engineering.

he gets dropped off at university like most parents drop their kids off at kindergarten “now play nice, don’t interrupt the teacher, you remembered your lunch right?” all of these adults being so confused and they always think he’s lost.

Seriously imagine the students and professors getting whiplash from this kid acing his way through engineering and talking about maybe wanting to go into ship-engineering later, because his Dad and uncle's really into boats and it'd be cool to show off how much he's learned about boats and ships and maybe engineer them a vessel as well, just to brag

[umahumahumah]

So like knowing how nations work in hetalia is it possible that someone has tried establishing a micronation in the hetaliaverse to manifest a country boyfriend

[aph-japan]

{J.P.N Fan-Made Horror roleplaying (rpg) Game} Hetalia Fox Tales ~ QUOTES + "PERSONIFICATIONS" vs. "HUMANS" + "DEATH" vs. "Disappearance"

"SO, I was thinking, {to BRING 'Gilbert' back...} - SPAIN

(Note: "Rufus" is a 'secret' spoiler character that shows up mid-game. Jia Long = H.K. {Yes others also Cameo if not have scenes}; others are human charas, other main charas etc.)

{Netherlands}

"The 'PERSONIFICATION' does not have to be 'KIKU HONDA' either."

(I'm coming back to this comment, but continue on...)

While the "lore" (and handling of H.W.S's) isn't perfect, all I'm saying here IS, if you like pondering the lore of what "personifications" means along with horror r.p.gs involving time-loops and mythological stuff and which basically acts as a (un-official - these are un-related fan-series) parallel to "HetaOni" except somewhat in reverse; (And Yet Not Completely!)

You all will probably be interested in watching "Hetalia Fox Tales", which is now fully and completely 'subbed'!

(And yes, the game itself, from 2k16, is 'completed'!)

Caps by @aph-japan Credit to DinoSlayer235 who Edited + Subbed from C.N. script {DO NOT re-post / claim as your own without Permission} (Please ASK to Use!) {The play-list is linked below - follow to direct link!}

Warning: It is still a HORROR R.P.G. There will be lots of eventual blood-splatters imagery; "Sound" of blood can also be heard often in later parts, notably well within even the first few parts.

Basic {Starting} Summary: The Nations are all visting (or planning to arrive at) {Kiku}'s location; {Not the 'main house', but Kiku's 'hosting'} Kiku seems to have also "invited" them for something. After a night of telling "scary stories", strange events begin happening. They all (+Kiku) tried retiring to their rooms, but... It would appear the "mansion" of ""Kiku""'s contains the "Spirit" that Kiku talked about from within Kiku's "Tale". Moreover, not much later on, "Romano" suddenly appears. He joins the group inside the mansion, after managing to find the way inside. "Antonio", who was trapped outside trying to join them as well, can't immediately get inside the mansion... (It uses graphics + a turn based battle system very similar to HetaOni. {Down to almost exact same 'attack names' in many cases} Thus, it might look a little outdated there; Please remember this is from around 2k16.)

(Check comments to see if I link to further references!)

[thirdlotusprince3]

Hetalia as Imposters Among Us Part 1

Canada: (Would make a great liar and barely noticed)

America: (Would make a great liar. He can sabotage reactor and oxygen. He can find a spot and sneak up on a victim, either with lights sabotaged or not. He’s not the best taking out Britain)

Japan: (He is calm. Thinks before he acts. Great at sabotaging lights, and using vents to sneak up on victims, sneaking up, and swiftly killing victims while they are alone. He also does not put his foot where his mouth or would denounce something to make him a suspect and give himself away. )

(Japan can kill someone quickly right on the spot. The best way for Japan to win is to kill the crew as fast as possible. Great at the poker face and has a fifty-fifty)

Russia: (Would be great at sabotaging the doors, lights, comms, reactor, and sneak up and kill other players. He is also great at killing witnesses, whether he is a crewmate or imposter, he is mostly smiling so it is hard to tell, if he is a crewmate or imposter. He may not be accused in the first place)

Britain: (Would be a great liar and can kill his victims while they are alone and can story tell)

China: (Would be great at sabotaging the lights and using the vents to sneak up on victims while they are alone. China can quickly kill someone right on the spot, and may think of a nice lie once in a while, a fifty-fifty chance a fine alibi)

Hetalia among us weaknesses

America: (Weakness: He could blurt out a give away or his moody face might be a dead giveaway.)

Japan: (May be too silent. It is rare for him to think of a fine alibi right away. It may take him a long time to even think of an alibi or a fine alibi)

Russia: (May be a little silent, even though he speaks more than China and Japan. Once he is accused, his alibi will not make him any less of a suspect)

Britain: (America is his weakness. America is the one country who annoys him. If America suspects Britain, he will be keen on finding spots, or watching security, collecting other crewmates to catch sight of Britain near a dead body. America tends to surround himself with other crewmates)

Canada (Is watched by America protectively and suspiciously. If America suspects Canada, he will use an ad hominem or attack the motives imposter accusations, tease to appeal to the other crewmates, or elicit Canada to expose himself)

China: (On the other fifty-fifty chance, he will give a terrible lie. He may be silent. If the suspect is part of the Asian family, he considers them his child [and will vote himself out thinking, he is being a noble father] “Goodbye son, I sacrifice my life for you.”)

              (I’m Chinese and I can tell you many of us are too frank or too crafty)

[if-you-like-pina-colada-s]

Ok, here's another one for yall:

What's your headcanon for how the nations were born/created?

[forsoobado137]

I like thinking about what a check-up at the doctor's would be like for a nation. Like they get their knee hit with that little reflex mallet and the doctor is like "hmm, yes, something is up with the railroads in the south."

No but fr it's probably exactly like a normal physical except the doctor has to take into account the state of the economy or politics or any recent natural disasters. I feel like certain symptoms are like this:

Blizzard/cold wave = low body temp, mild frostbite, hypothermia in extreme cases

Capital crisis= cardiac arrest, fast pulse, high blood pressure

Disease outbreaks = whatever disease is widespread

Drought = dehydration, dry and flaking skin, rashes

Economic troubles/recession = common cold/fever, lethargy and fatigue

Flood = vomiting, kidney issues

Famine = malnourishment, hunger pains, eternal hunger

Earthquake = convulsions, dizziness, muscle cramps

Heatwave = heatstroke

Hurricane = dizziness, nausea, vomiting, shortness of breath

Political unrest = dizziness, nausea, headaches, stomach aches, mood swings, high blood pressure, auditory hallucinations, psychosis if severe

Tornado = dizziness, confusion, nausea, shortness of breath

Tsunamis = vomiting, dizziness, muscle cramps,

Volcanic eruptions = severe burns, high fever, coughing smoke, shortness of breath

Wildfires = burns, sometimes actual fire is visible, coughing smoke

And if there are any fatalities, other symptoms will show up depending on the death toll. symptoms such as PTSD, nightmares, hallucinations, and a profound sense of loss.

[sunnylolli]

I’ve written a little drabble along with this below, because I just- I just needed this

(”Marry me, Archie” by Flyte, sets the scene)

Arthur wakes to a crackling sound followed by a baby fussing and blinks himself awake.

He takes a deep inhale through his nose, turning his head towards the baby monitor then further to the alarm clock.

He sighs, lifting both hands to rub at his face, the skin of his palms dry and his face even more so.

4 hours.

Definitely a step forward, a new record.

"Qu’l heure…"

The fussing from the monitor continues, small cries taking on in volume. He’ll have to go in before Matthew wakes up as well.

“I’ve got it. Go back to sleep.”

Arthur mumbles groggily, pushing himself up reluctantly and pulling the duvet aside.

A warm hand brushes at his back and he pauses to sit at the edge of the bed. He eyes the monitor, then the open door ahead of him.

The house is cold and he shivers, counting to three then reaches behind him to give Francis’ hand a squeeze and a lazy kiss, before heaving himself to stand with a grunt.

The shirt he wore yesterday is the closest at hand and he pulls it on to ward off the chills until he can get back to bed and steps into the pair of slippers that stand by the door when he finally drags himself out of the bedroom and down along the corridor.

He runs a flat hand across his hair, brushing it out of his face and closing his eyes while he walks.

He refuses to turn the lights on, the house isn’t that dark and it’s maneuverable. The light always seems to disturb Alfred more than help him anyway, especially sick, he seems particularly light sensitive after waking.

His slippers drag against the wooden flooring and leads him to the room next door.

The door is ajar, a point they make to keep everything open and easy to access. He steps into the doorway, giving the door a gentle push.

He’s greeted by the softest of light from a winnie-the-pooh night light sitting in the outlet at the end of the room and Arthur thanks the heavens it’s as dull and old as it is, to shine so softly.

The first crib he sees is with Matthew. It’s silent, and he can glimpse him still sleeping, while a step further in allows him to spot Alfred.

Arthur looks at him squirming and making a rocus. He huffs exasperatedly.

“Hello.” He sighs, as he drags himself to the crib’s edge.

Alfred’s managed to wrap himself up in his blankets, lying on his back, he looks at the verge of a fit.

Upon seeing him approach, the fussing becomes the beginnings of sobbing and Arthur leans down. Outstretching his arms to begin freeing him from the blanket-prison he’s gotten himself trapped in. 

“Oh, I know. I know. You make some compelling arguments, sire.”

Alfred hiccups at that, binky lying abandoned in the array of teddies Francis’ showered him with after his last recovery and he seems like he’s missed it when Arthur places it back into his greedy little hands.

He probably couldn’t find it in his frantic attempt to unwind himself.

Arthur places both hands under his arms, lifting him up with a playful heave and a ho and places the lad on his hip.

He gives him a once over, checking his face and skin for anything out of the ordinary, but he’s just teary eyed and snot faced and really that’s not so bad, is it.

He gets a hitched breath and decides to get moving to warm up a bottle. A babbling of discontentment following him as he begins to walk.

“That right? Surely not, love, surely not. I bet you’re as tired as I am.”

Alfred babbles some more and Arthur nods in agreement, directing his gaze at his feet, to watch his step down the stairs. 

“Yes, yes, I don’t like sleeping hungry either. Here we go, downstairs.”

The last step creaks obnoxiously and Arthur reminds himself for the hundredth time that he should probably take a look at that.

Alfred continues to fuss and Arthur continues to humor him, jumping him up and down a few times, he goes to turn on the radiators in the living room before making the journey to the kitchen.

He turns on the light from the air vent, the yellow bulb flickers a few times before it comes on and he starts his nightly Alfred-routine.

He finds a pot, fills it with water and sets it to heat up.

Francis already prepared a bottle a few hours ago, ready to heat up and all Arthur has to do now is wait, as he places it carefully into the water to warm it.

The steam rises and begins to melt in with the air around it, and Arthur absentmindedly turns on the vent. It whirrs to life in a gradual ascent and Arthur sits Alfred down onto the counter and crouches down to be at face level with him.

Alfred’s stopped crying, but is still hiccupping and fussy, and he stares teary eyed into Arthur’s own, small scars from the pox still left over near his hairline.

“You must be nocturnal.” Arthur says, reaching his hands up to grab Alfred’s smaller ones and drive them around in circles playfully. 

“You sleep more during the day than you do during the night. What’s that about, ay?” 

He says, smiling in an attempt to get Alfred to as well.

“Are you sneaking out to dance in the moonlight while your pa and I are sleeping?”

Alfred continues to suck at his binky, but he does briefly smile and Arthur continues off of that.

“You do?” He makes an exaggeratedly surprised expression, and Alfred laughs through a hiccup.

“I didn’t take you much for a dancer, but I stand corrected. But as your father, I have to say you’re rather young for such nightly escapades, young man.”

Alfred does laugh for real this time and Arthur grins at him. About to say something else when a sizzling from the pot boiling over catches his attention and he springs up to turn the heat off. 

He keeps one hand supporting Alfred, the other mindlessly grabbing the hot part of the pot and eliciting a yelp at the burn. 

Alfred seems to find his distress funny, because he laughs at the way Arthur flaps his hand then fumbles to pull the pot away by the handle.

A little sadist, the lad.

“You little devil.” He says incredulously. “Laughing at your own dad being an idiot, I’m perfectly capable of laughing at myself, thank you.”

Alfred laughs, ironically, at that as well and Arthur figures it can’t be helped.

He’s just happy the boy isn’t crying anymore - God knows, he’s done too much of that.

Arthur picks him back up and grabs a tea towel for the bottle to dry it off and to hold it without dropping it.

He’s going to let it sit for a minute or two, to cool to bearable temperatures, so he can test it and finally let Alfred have it.

He’s being surprisingly cooperative, looking down at the pot, with his hand fiddling with his binky.

“Are you excited to eat something?” Arthur asks, resettling him to hold him with both arms.

Alfred keeps staring at the pot, but does move his hand and slaps it against Arthur’s mouth.

He closes an eye at it, leaning his head back and sideways, but it’s such commonplace it’s barely surprising.

“Alright! Alright, cheers, I’m done talking.”

They wait for the bottle with Arthur jumping Alfred and Alfred eventually abandoning the pot in favor of leaning his head to rest under Arthur’s chin.

He begins to fuss again when Arthur tests the temperature of the milk on his arm and when he brings them out of the kitchen to sit down by the dinner table.

The light from the kitchen mixes with the blue hue of the night and Arthur situates Alfred to lie down in one arm and positions the bottle with the other.

Alfred spits the binky out himself, reaching greedily for his nighttime meal.

Arthur leans back in the chair for the following minutes, moving his head side to side in an attempt to loosen out a knick and closes his eyes tiredly for just a few moments.

He doesn’t know how he’s gotten through the past 6 months.

First it was a lung infection, then the pox, then right back to another lung infection.

The doctors said he’s predisposed to illness, something about being too small at birth, they don’t anticipate he’ll make it much more than a year.

‘It just is that way at times with twins.’

Arthur opens his eyes and looks down at his son tiredly and misty eyed.

He is small, lying there in the crook of his arm with his eyes closed, falling asleep while eating.

All babies are small. They’re supposed to be small, that’s the whole point of growing. And Alfred’s been growing fine, he’s smaller than Matthew is, but he’s only half a year, he has plenty of time to catch up.

Arthur sniffs, turning his head towards his shoulder to wipe his face in it. 

He’ll catch up.

To hell with what the doctors say, he’ll catch up and he’ll make it past a year. Of course he will. 

A child doesn’t go out on nightly moonlight-raves at 6 months old, if they aren’t going to make it past one year.

Alfred will make it, and he’ll get to grow up and go to actual raves and Arthur’s going to support the hell out of it, because if Alfred wants to, then that’s reason enough to support it.

Alfred stops drinking with the tiniest bit left over and spits it out and Arthur sets it on the table quietly.

Alfred’s eyes are closed, and he’s breathing audibly, clearly half-asleep.

“Alrighty-o, lad.” He says, sniffing and wiping at his nose briefly to situate Alfred upwards. “Sorry to interrupt you, but you’re going to regret falling asleep without trying to throw up on me first, so let’s get that over with, shall we?”

Alfred stares at him sleepily in response and Arthur brings them back to the kitchen to get a small towel to put over his shoulder.

He sets the bottle to soak for the night and pats Alfred’s back.

He does burp a few times, but to Arthur’s relief, there is no reflux along with it.

He just lies there, and Arthur stands with him until he falls asleep, falling heavy and limp against his shoulder and that’s that for tonight then.

He turns the vent and the light off and stands for a moment to adjust to the dark.

He skips the creaky step on the stairs as he goes up and returns as quietly as he can to the nursery to set Alfred down.

The lad fusses briefly as he’s laid down, but settles just as quickly and Arthur watches him with the light from the nightlight for a time. Perhaps too long.

They should’ve waited with giving them their own room, it would’ve been easier to hear them from their own and Arthur wouldn’t have to feel so on edge he barely even sleeps anymore.

He runs his fingers softly across Alfred’s cheek. Stroking across the babyfuss and the drool and the stray streaks of milk that he wipes away, unbothered.

He begins to hum, ever so quietly.

“Close your eyes,” He mutters, voice terrible and definitely not made for singing. “Have no fear.”

He tries to think about the future where Alfred is bigger. Where he’s walking and running and biking, where he’s using the swingset right alongside Matthew out in their backyard, and tumbling and getting scrapes and bruises that won’t have the looming fear of being fatal.

“The monster’s gone, he’s on the run, and your daddy’s here.”

He begins to tear up, stroking Alfred’s hair back, he pulls the blanket over him to tug him in properly.

“Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful,”

Alfred stirs and Arthur retracts his hands. “Beautiful boy.” 

He hums the remaining tunes, letting them trail off to hear both boys breathing into the early morning.

He doesn’t bother drying his eyes this time, he doesn’t even know if he wants to go back to bed. He’s tired, exhausted, but he can’t stop worrying.

He wants to stop, but he can’t.

He crosses the room to check Matthew, finding him equally as asleep as Alfred, although instead of being wrapped in his blanket, he’s kicked it off entirely.

Arthur replaces it over him and runs his hand across his hair the same way, before standing back and rubbing the heels of his hands into his eyes and deciding he’s really going to be no help if he doesn’t sleep at all.

He casts a final look down at Matthew, lingering by both boys, before fighting himself back out into the hallway and creeping himself back into bed.

It dips softly and he falls onto the pillow with a sigh. He doesn’t bother taking the shirt off again and his side of the bed isn’t warm anymore either, so it’s just as well.

Francis moves beside him as he’s settled in, turning to face him and scooting closer to envelope him with the duvet.

It crinkles and warms him, Francis’ arm snakes over and around and he’s pressing a lazy, prickly kiss to his mouth that he doesn’t have the energy to return at all.

“I'll take the next one.” Francis whispers.

“You have not slept in days.”

“Nonsense.” Arthur mutters.

Francis half-heartedly slaps his back. 

“It’s like I’m taking care of three children, instead of 2.”

Arthur scoffs. “O, ye of little faith.”

Francis presses in for another kiss and Arthur returns it this time, albeit barely.

They settle down; At the verge of sleep.

The monitor goes off, and Francis groans. 

Arthur laughs.

[tejennnn]

The distinguished patron of District 33 🕊️

Parrain/France with cognac, French brandy! 🇫🇷

Based on the Hennessy VS cognac.

When sketching, I wondered if I should draw him with Hennessy XO instead...

[monaluisa]

If they boink a human and have a child, the children are mortal; as for other nations, it's complicated. First off, there is such a skewed male to female ratio in Hetalia, so that's not helping. But let's use Greece as a case study. Greece is, according to the all-powerful Hetalia fanon, Ancient Greece's son. At this point, you could go down two routes: She got pregnant and gave birth to him, or he just kind of showed up and she adopted him. I personally go for the former because I think it's really cool to examine what relationships are like among the nations, and this makes Greece (Ancient Greece's son) the UK brothers (Britannia's sons) and Egypt (Ancient Egypt's son) some of the only characters with mothers, again because of the terrible male-to-female ratio in Hetalia.

The question is, who's Greece's dad? Ancient Rome would make a lot of sense, but like...does nation reproduction work like human reproduction (They have unprotected sex and have a kid, turns out the kid is also a nation and is here to stay) or was it like a Virgin Mary situation and she just became pregnant with Greece once she started to decline? And if the nations do reproduce like humans, is that why they're all gay? Like, it is a form of birth control to prevent the political chaos of new nations springing up all the time?

Tl;dr: Like most things in Hetalia, it's pretty complicated to figure out once you start deep-diving into it. Just run with something because fanon is stronger than canon in this fandom.

Just curious what the fandom thinks of the status of nations having kids, be it with other nations or with humans, and as it should be implied, this is in the context of a Standard Nationverse world, no human AUs or omegaverse or anything else as those are separate cases

[umahumahumah]

hey guys remember blue eyes russia? yeah that was kind of cursed, anyways my theory is that some way or another a purple-eyed imposter managed to weasel his way into his position early on

as to what happened to the original? nobody knows oooooo

[eveistdiepommes]

Who’s guiding who? 🌙👁️

(Ludwig’s design is by @mossmyst hiieee moss >w< 🫶)

[ask2ps]

i really wanna hear more about the 2ps possessing their 1ps?? do they swap bodies or does their original body just go limp?

a) it's not quite a "body swap." the phrase i've used in past writings for it is "overwriting." i think "suppression" would also be appropriate. the 1ps are, if all goes to plan, "put to sleep". they essentially become a repressed memory. oliver set it up like this because he didn't want the 1p nations trying to constantly win back their body. even so, some nations put up a real fight as they're overwritten (and maybe even a little after if they're strong/stubborn enough... ahem ahem america) italy is not one of them though, partially because 2p italy got him in his sleep.

b) yeah they just go limp lol . they're empty husks, now. free meat. england would try a bite if it canada would let him