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sumsebien · 4 years

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by design pt. 3// Prince Friedrich

series masterlist

summary: friedrich and y/n’s arrival in prussia! ft. frederica ;))

word count: 4.7k

warnings: none

a/n: apologies for the long wait darlings. here she is though. and she is a long one. also a side note for those who love symbolism as much as i do 💐 ;) also, my banabaer @milkbaer this one is for u baby. thank you for all of your help!!!

a german lesson: Gänschen means goose🦆 (that’s a duck but we can pretend) and schloss means palace/chateau/mansion

The massive railway station stood proudly as the gateway to Potsdam, located right where the forest met the city. Three archways made of worn bricks welcomed old friends and strangers alike. There was something in the slightly tinted mossy green that offered you an odd sense of home. Like you had been here before.

Friedrich stood next to you near the exit. You had had breakfast together, then got ready separately before meeting each other again here.

“I had a lot of memories with this train station,” Friedrich said as the train finally passed the great archway.

You didn’t realize that you had been holding your breath the entire time, waiting for the wheels to come to full stop. You had been storing information from Lea and Ilse about Friedrich’s mother all morning. Anything that might help you strike up a decent conversation with her from her favorite flowers (gardenias) to her pets (a schnauzer named Fifi). Since then, you had been a little preoccupied by your own imaginations of her as a mother.

From the way Friedrich talked about her, your first guess was that they were extremely like-minded. Aside from that, there was the fact that she was a Queen to consider. She obviously must be extremely elegant and poised. Even her dog sounded posh-Fifi the Schnauzer...

You were still listening to Friedrich though, just not closely. “Really?” you asked, your eyes following the platform numbers as they passed by.

He nodded proudly. “I ran here from the Palace and caught the train to Berlin for a boxing match.”

You laughed, now entirely engaged in imagining little Friedrich fleeing from his guards. “And how old were you?”

“Thirteen. I skipped a dancing lesson.”

“Shame. You could have become a ballerina and outdone my stunts at your Christmas party.”

“Who’s to say that I did not? There are still many shocking things that you don’t know.” His plan to distract you from your own nerves had worked wonderfully well. You two continued to discuss his boxing match up until you were escorted out of the station.

There, you were greeted by a great spectacle of carriages and a horse parade. Everywhere you looked there were men in uniforms. They were on horses, in open top carriages, on the streets, all waiting for you and Friedrich.

Back in London, your family frequently had two to three carriages to accompany you to social functions. It was already considered excessive for the ton. You would have laughed at the idea of this. Or to be honest, wouldn’t have even been able to imagine having an entire parade to accompany you a couple of blocks down the street.

And of course, you could not forget the icing on the cake-the largest carriage you had ever seen. The one you saw in France could not compare and certainly not the one in England. This one was completely enveloped in gold from top to toe-or rather from roof to wheels. On the top of the roof, there were golden cherubs holding up an olive branch and flowers.

It was a harsh reminder that Friedrich, someone who you had grown to identify as your friend over the last several hours, was also the firstborn son of the King, heir apparent to the throne. And you were his wife. Whatever agreement you had made with each other in private was not valid in the public eye. Here, you were a Princess. The Princess.

As Friedrich watched you marvel in the magnificence of the royal parade, he turned to Heinrich with a last minute decision. Well last minute for his father and valet but not for him. Friedrich had wanted to visit his mother for ages.

“I’m heading to my mother’s. We’ll catch up with the staff afterwards and meet you at the Berlin Palace.”

All of this was not on the schedule his father had drawn out and Friedrich was well-aware. He had even cancelled the state train that Friedrich specifically ordered to Potsdam just to make sure he would not take you here first. But Friedrich was not one to lose.

At the same time, however, he knew that his valet was absolutely terrified of his father, as did most people. Soon enough, when his father found out that his son was not on the train to Berlin and was nowhere near the Royal Palace, he would definitely not be happy.

“But your Highness, we really must get going now or we won’t reach Berlin by noon.”

“If he asks, just blame it on me. I’ll be in and out in one hour.”

Heinrich didn’t say anything after that, just nodded. For that, Friedrich was thankful, he did not want to ruin this magical moment for you. It was not going to be this magical for long.

As Heinrich left with your staff, Friedrich turned back to you. “Y/N?”

“I-Is this for us?”

The look on your face made him laugh. Your jaws were grazing the floors, your eyes slowly sweeping across the scene then glanced at him and back to the carriages again.

“I believe it is,” he smiled, offering you his arm.

…

The entire ride back to the Palace was essentially just for you to fathom the welcome wagon.

You could barely string a sentence together, nodding along as Friedrich picked out places that he mentioned in his stories last night, especially enthusiastic about the candy shop he was never allowed to go in.

Potsdam was charming. You could certainly imagine a very fulfilling and peaceful existence here where it wasn't hectic like London but not entirely placid like the countryside.

Just when you thought you could not be more impressed, you arrived at Sanssouci Park.

When Ilse briefly mentioned it, you had expected a park. Like Hyde Park or Regent’s Park or the little garden behind your house that your parents insisted was a park. Whatever you had imagined, however, could not hold a candle to what it was in reality.

“Welcome to Sanssouci Park,” Friedrich said casually, casting a brief look out the windows while your eyes were completely glued to the towering gates opening up for your parade to pass through.

The name was not meant to refer to a park. It was definitely not a park. It was a bloody forest. As you entered the road lined with dense trees, the temperature dropped slightly with the shade, effectively cooling you both from the outside in.

“This is what you call a park? Whatever do you two think of Hyde Park then? A child’s sandbox?”

Before he could answer, your attention was quickly captured by a glimpse of something magnificent as the carriage passed a gap between the tree trunks. You pointed towards the dash of yellow you’d seen. “Is that where your mother lives?”

Friedrich followed your gaze and promptly nodded. “That’s Sanssouci Schloss. Here is the back of it.” Just on cue, the carriage rounded the corner and headed towards the back of the Palace.

Your jaws were officially off now as your eyes feasted on the very picture of splendor.

From personal observations, people usually spent a great deal of time and fortune on making the fronts of their homes as extravagant as possible. It was all in the face, as they said. But not here. Here, even the rear side was grand.

There was a huge water fountain in the middle of the yard, the blue sky printed on the surface. Naturally, your eyes followed straight ahead, past the window behind Friedrich’s head towards the most elaborate set of marble stairs you’d ever seen. On either side were tall walls of hedges and rose bushes that covered the hillside.

“Can we walk up those steps?”

Friedrich turned to look at the steps and then back at you again.

It was not a steep hill. More of a gentle slope but exactly because of that, the steps were long and the landings were wide. Anyone in breeches would find it challenging enough as it was. But you were in a gown, in the sweltering July heat and you were volunteering to walk. “You can. People usually go straight to the entrance though. Are you certain you’d want to walk? It is a long way.”

You nodded, brushing off his concerns. All you cared about was the sight.

Per your request, the carriage stopped right before the grand stairs to Sanssouci Palace. You and Friedrich got out of the carriage.

From where you stood, you had to crane your neck up slightly to be able to see the Palace up the top. The strip of yellow you’d seen from afar turned out to be much more intricate than you’d expected. Beautiful white windows lined the yellow walls, right in the center was an oval shaped room with a cyan dome on top, perfectly aligned with the stairs. Even though it only had one story, its width certainly made up for its height, stretching across the hill.

As you walked ahead, Friedrich decided to stall a little bit. Memories of endless summer days spent on these lawns came flooding back.

He had missed this.

The last time he was here was the summer before he left for England. It was actually here that his aunt Charlotte came to visit with an invitation to Cambridge-the day that changed his life.

And now he was here with you. Someone he had dreaded to marry a mere few days before. Now a dear friend to him.

Straight in front of him, you were marching up the steps with admirable determination, your hands holding onto your skirt, lifting it off the ground. With sun on your skin and wind in your hair, you laughed and told him to hurry up. For that split second, he wished he was not just your friend. Though he discarded that thought as quickly as it came, it stayed stuck in the back of his mind as he matched your pace.

“These are a lot of steps,” you remarked after the first flight of stairs was behind you. There were at least five more ahead. The excessively wide spaces between each step did not help with the general morale either.

“I did warn you,” he chuckled. “It was too exhausting a trip that Marie Antoinette rode a horse up these steps after her stroll in the garden.”

You paused for a moment.

Friedrich thought you were imagining the French queen trotting up the steps with her stallion. But as it turned out, he was wrong.

“Did he invite her over during one of the military clashes between Prussia and France?”

To say that Friedrich did not expect that was an understatement. You had told him you read but he never asked for the specifics on what exactly you were interested in. At that moment, he simply thought you’d be interested in a made-up tale to forget about the stairs. He did not think for a moment you’d be interested in foreign conflicts enough to know the feud between Prussia and France. He knew he certainly wasn’t as a student.

“You can’t fool me. I know,” you said, laughing at the shock on his face.

Pleasantly impressed, he remarked, “Full of surprises I see.”

“You’ll see that in this friendship,” you motioned between yourselves, “you’re not the only one who can shock.”

He gave you a nod, lowering his eyes and watched his steps before he murmured to himself. “Friendship, yes.” He reminded himself of how grateful he was to be your friend. And that maybe pining over you for the rest of his life was better than having you hate him.

If there was one thing for certain, it was that you two would not repeat his parents’ mistakes.

“Darling!”

The voice caused Friedrich’s eyes to snap upwards, slightly alarmed as they weren’t expected on this side of the Palace. Everyone was supposed to be at the front.

The first thing he saw was that you had stopped as well, only standing two steps above him. And then, on the top flight, he saw his mother, waving at him. She wasn’t supposed to greet them outside. At the same time though, he wouldn’t expect her to wait that long for anything anyways.

He waved back with a laugh. She hadn’t changed one bit since the last time he saw her nearly a year ago. A straw sunhat on top of her head, a basket of flower and gardening tools in her hand.

“I-is that-“

Friedrich nodded. “Yes, that’s her. That’s my Mama.”

The nervous jitters came back to you. You knew how much his mother meant to him. She was the true hero of his childhood and you were just excited to meet her. However, you also knew that in no way was this arrangement made by her. And no matter how friendly you were with Friedrich, as his mother, she would not easily trust you.

You quickly masked your nervousness with a gentle smile. It was the safest route after all. Better look like a smiley fool than a grumpy idiot. You thought.

The Queen began to walk down the steps briskly, meeting you halfway up the last flight of stairs. Immediately, she threw her arms around Friedrich, pulling him into a bear hug. “There you are, you Gänschen! You’ve kept your mother waiting long enough!” She said, messing up his hair and only letting go of him once he was shaking with laughter.

When he and your maids said she was very carefree in private, you did not expect her to be this carefree. A lady was not supposed to be out in the sun like this, no less a queen. She was also much more beautiful than you could ever imagine, with her honey blonde curls tumbling down her back in waves and her big blue eyes which were now on you.

“Apologies, Mama,” he stepped back, allowing you to take a step forward. “This is Y/N, my wife. And Y/N, this is my Mama.”

“It is such an honor to meet you, your Majesty,” you said, bending your knees into a curtsy, praying you wouldn’t stumble backwards and ruin the first impression.

You had an overwhelming want for her to like you. And you felt like this first meeting was of paramount importance in deciding that. If it did not go well, she would never see you as anything more than a girl her son was forced to marry. And that was terrifying even in the case where Friedrich remained a good friend.

You were not wrong. Frederica did not expect much from a match made by Louis, a man who clearly did not know his own son or even cared to try. Assuming he did know his son, it would not even be of any matter at all. The only thing he had ever cared about was grooming an heir. This arrangement, no doubt, served that.

But Frederica could not ignore the large smile on her son’s face as he ascended the steps with this young lady.

That? That was not by design.

Frederica shook her head and offered you her hand to help you stand up straight. “I prefer Frederica. At least when we are not in court.”

She gave you a cheeky wink and plucked a gardenia from her basket, tucking it by your ear. “Come on now! I am sure it has been a long trip for the both of you. Let us have some tea before you go.”

...

Frederica led the both of you into the Palace through the doors into the oval room. Inside it was just as spectacular as its exterior. Tall columns held up the painted dome where a chandelier was hung. The three arched windows looking out to the gardens were pushed open by three footmen, allowing sunlight and fresh air to gush into the space, lightening up the entire room.

“Please have a seat, dears,” Frederica said, gesturing to the rounded table in the middle of the room.

You were still too in awe to be able to settle down calmly in your seat but obeyed her anyways. Beside you, Friedrich was glancing around the room, like he was in search of something.

“Is Fifi not here?” he asked as a butler approached the table with a cake stand.

Just on cue, Fifi-his mother’s Schnauzer, shot through the doors. You nearly gasped out of sheer excitement when you saw the ball of salt and pepper fur fly into the room like an arrow. You had always shared a fondness for dogs. Yet you never had one. The only dogs you had were your father’s hunting hounds and he made sure you remained far away from them.

“Speak of the devil...” Friedrich turned to you, “this is Fifi, hated by most but very loved by my mother. Mostly because she smells like fish.”

He kept his eyes on the dog as she strolled around, heading in your direction and getting alarmingly close. “Fifi!” he said, shooing her off. The dog didn’t care, just kept on going forward.

“Oh, it’s quite alright! I love dogs,” you said, fighting the urge to pet Fifi who was quietly sniffing at the hem of your skirt.

Frederica was absolutely surprised when she saw her Schnauzer so quiet. Her dog was not friendly with strangers. By this time there should have been an accident.

The delayed accident happened right after that. Fifi bit down on your dress, tugging at it playfully.

More surprising, however, you didn’t seem scared of the feisty little old thing either. You just laughed.

“Fifi! Leave the poor girl alone!” Frederica said, tapping her shoes against the floor.

Friedrich quickly leaned forward and picked her up. Being lifted off the ground, she released your skirt and focused on wiggling out of Friedrich’s grasps instead. When she eventually succeeded, Fifi headed back to you, circling your feet, her tail wagging.

Friedrich clicked his tongue, about to bend over again to shoo Fifi off. Not that she would care. But the dog plopped down between your chair and his mother’s, out of Friedrich’s reach.

She looked up at you with big eyes, begging for a pet, which you were happy to provide. You reached down and scratched her ears. It was all rather brave, if he must admit.

“I know it is hard to believe but she seems fond of you,” Frederica mused, seeing Fifi transform into a whole other dog under your touch. She was not usually this sweet.

Friedrich scoffed. “The devil almost ripped her skirt off,” he gestured to the hem of your dress, and glared at Fifi.

“It’s fine, honestly. I think it was a compliment if anything,” you said with a smile.

He sighed. “Don’t defend the perpetrator! She has a terrible temperament. And you know it,” he turned to his mother.

“Fifi does. as much as I love her,” Frederica nodded. Fifi’s ears perked up at the mention of her name, blinking at her owner. “But you seem like a very experienced animal whisperer.”

“No, actually. I never had one.”

“Well, that’s a shame. You’re great with Fifi. And if you can handle her, you can handle any dog.”

“Any dog is better than Fifi,” Friedrich said under his breath. Nevertheless, he was glad to see the two of you bond. Even if it was over Fifi the Ferocious.

On the bright side, at least she wasn’t coming back with them to Berlin. It was the only thing Friedrich and his father had ever had in common-a dislike for the Schnauzer.

...

Heinrich was being escorted into the Palace towards the audience room. A place he would much prefer not to go to on his own. He had arrived for over an hour and still you two were nowhere to be found and it was only for so long he could hide the train of carriages. Eventually, one of the butlers alerted the King of his presence and he was immediately requested inside.

Heinrich had suspected that you would arrive slightly late. He just didn’t think it could be this late. He had no idea what he was supposed to say. One misstep and off with his head.

When the doors to the room were swung open, the King was throwing a fit. His deafening yell rang across the room and bounced against the tall walls. It certainly did not help with the nerves.

“WHERE IS MY HORSE?” he demanded, rising up from the throne. From where he stood, he towered over the poor footman. “I am late for hunting!”

“Your Majesty, you cancelled today’s hunt.”

“And why on earth would I do that?”

Heinrich kept quiet, remaining invisible as he approached the throne behind the butler. He was not about to be caught in the middle of a crossfire during one of the King’s fits.

The footman blinked. Heinrich could see the man debating whether or not to answer, lest it was a rhetorical question.

“B-because the Prince is back from England, sir?”

“Oh,” the King said. His voice quieter than before and sat back down again. The crease between his Majesty’s eyebrows disappeared, his expressions softening slightly. Then he turned to the footman with a quizzical look. “And where is the Prince?”

The footman turned around and met Heinrich’s eyes. And then the King followed his gaze. So much for not wanting to be caught in the crossfire.

“I-“ Heinrich began, his mind drawing a blank.

If he were to tell the truth, Friedrich and you would no doubt be in trouble. However, if he didn’t tell the truth, he’d be in trouble and so would you two. And if he just said he didn’t know, he’d be on the first ship to an island far far away.

“Well?” The King barked.

“I’ll go get them, your Majesty!”

“Don’t just stand there. Hurry along then! Before I chop all of your heads off.”

Heinrich had never walked so fast out of a room his entire life. His heart was pounding as it began to dawn on him that he had just lied to the King. Well, it was not exactly a lie. He was going to get them. They just weren’t here yet. Unfortunately, none of that mattered. There was no reasoning with such a powerful man. All he could do was hope that he would still be alive to see another day.

Just when all of his luck appeared to have run out, he heard the distinct sound of hooves against cobble and rushed outside.

Friedrich helped you out of the carriage, still engaged in the never-ending tales of Fifi the Ferocious. You were laughing when you caught sight of the magnificent Royal Palace-Berliner Schloss. It was much boxier than Sanssouci Schloss with towering walls that casted a great shadow over the front lawn.

Household staff lined the steps on either side, straightening up as Heinrich dashed past them. Some had their heads turned, the younger ones especially, their curious eyes on you, trying to catch a glimpse of the new Princess. The more seasoned staff near the top stayed perfectly still, resisting the urge to look anywhere other than straight ahead.

“Your Highnesses!” He said, bowing so quickly you were worried his head might snap off. “Your presences are requested. Immediately!”

...

Through the doors you could faintly hear your titles being announced. Your palms were clammy so you hid it behind you, focusing on what you might say in a couple of moments.

Friedrich was not nervous, of course.

He was the one who planned the detour in the first place. And while you had enjoyed the time with Frederica very much, perhaps a little too much, it had delayed your schedule by well over a couple of hours. It meant that you made the King of Prussia, your father-in-law wait.

The only person more nervous than you was probably Heinrich. Every time you caught a glimpse of his face, he seemed more haggard than the last. You were not certain whether he was really sick or just worried.

"My father will say things. Things that are aimed to test you. Do not mind any of it," Friedrich said quietly.

"Something tells me I should take that as a suggestion. One look at Heinrich and I know what I am in for."

Friedrich sneaked a glance at his valet and gave you a small smile. "Heinrich has always been that way. Worries a little too much."

"Maybe that is for good reason-"

The trumpets sounded, prompting you to straighten up, smooth your dress and put on a smile. In the corner of your eyes, you could see Friedrich cracking up. Had it not been for the fact that you were being presented right then, you would have given him a slipper to the chest. He was still smiling up until you had to walk through the doors.

Then, his demeanor shifted completely. You did not dare to make eye contact with the King. All you saw was brief glimpses of a man, wearing a red cloak on the throne. But Friedrich, he was looking straight down the room, challenging his father.

From the stories he had told you, you knew that Friedrich had a rough relationship with his father. Once he got a chance to break away, he vowed he would allow his father to have full control of his life again. And from the suffocating tension in the air, you knew his father would not make it easy.

“The Prince and Princess of Prussia, your Majesty,” a footman announced.

"Your Majesty," you said, giving the King a curtsy.

"Welcome, welcome. I hope the journey was not too rough for you.”

You smiled and nodded. Not a bad start.

However, it was a completely different story when you saw Friedrich’s face. He raised his eyebrows, clearly unconvinced by his father’s concern. "You do, father? Wasn’t it on your orders that the state train never arrived?”

“Now, now, Friedrich. That was none of my doing.” The King turned to you with a small smile. “I must say, you are much prettier than I expected, my lady.”

He had made such an effort to emphasize the last two words that even if you weren’t listening, you still would have caught them. The King was smirking on his throne, his icy eyes sending chills down your back.

“I believe it’s your Highness, father.”

This row was your fault. You could tell.

“No, I don’t think it is. You didn’t get married.”

“We did.”

“That did not count.”

“How? Because you weren’t invited?”

“I see all of your manners have gone out the door since you stepped foot out of this country.”

Friedrich wanted to scoff. It was always going to be about England. If they were going to have this conversation, he was going to do it properly. But not in front of you.

He turned to Heinrich. “Take the Princess to see the chambers.”

You didn’t want to leave. You were responsible for this in one way or another. You should be here to take the blame. But Friedrich shook his head like he knew what you were about to say. “Come with Heinrich. I’ll meet you later.”

“No need for that. Lady Brandt, your chief lady-in-waiting, will take you for a tour. Bernadine?”

You remembered Lea and Ilse mentioning her as well. However, at that time, she didn’t have a name or a face for you to attach her to just yet. You just knew that she was going to be in charge of all of your affairs like Heinrich was doing for Friedrich. Now she had a name and a face.

At the mention of her name, she nodded and stepped forward from the line of staff on your right. She was dressed in a blood red dress, a strand of pearls wrapped around her long neck. She came towards you, giving you an impressive curtsy, tipping her head forward slowly yet keeping her hat perfectly still on her dark raven hair.

When she looked up, you were finally able to see her striking hollow eyes, tall cheekbones and an ever so slightly upturned corner of her lips. She looked awfully familiar. Like a much younger version of your mother actually. And she was just as terrifying.

“Come with me, your Highness.”

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2p-stuff-because-i-miss-them · 4 years

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2p Russia with ballerina s/o? This blog is more awesome then 1p Prussia btw

Deadass, this is so cute I’m actually kinda hype to write-

Russia x Ballerina s/o

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Thats how he feels, he’s so excited XD

idk if I forgot to mention that Viktor doe Ballet but.... viktor really does ballet

ngl you two probably met at like a class or maybe at some audition and thats probably the reason he fell in love in the first place.

He’s a very dedicated dancer, he works extra hard to be the best, and he’d like it if his s/o did too so he’ll encourage it a lot.

“s/o? did you remember to stretch? okay then lets get an early start of warming up and then we’ll go to our classes :>”

S/o will never have to worry about Ballet shoes (specifically Pointe shoes because we all know how damn much those cost) ever again because HE HAS EVERYTHING COVERED AT ALL TIMES.

He usually has this like wall in his souse pinned with audition dates and sign up sheets.

He’s going to sign his s/o up for every single one- PLEASE tell him to calm tf down once in awhile because some of thoe auditions aren’t even in the country- no, CONTINENT you’re in

Did someone say ballet collabs? Yeah I definitely heard someone say ballet collabs.

Ya’ll are gonna make so many cute couple collabs its ridiculous.

He’s gonna wanna start dancing spontaneously with his s/o all the time in the house because he expresses himself best in dance.

Ballarino Viktor is a b i t more confident and social than normal Vik.

HE GIVES THE BEST FULL BODY MESSAGES ITS INSANE LIKE JUST GO “Babe I’m feeling a lil-” AND YOU’LL BE FEELING READY TO PERFORM THE ENTIRE FUCKING NUT CRACKER IN ABOUT 20 MINUTES

whats that? you’re starving after class but its 4 am and nothings open and you’re too tired? *laughs in russian* HE’S GOT THE WHOLE BUFFET WAITING AT HOME LMAOOOO

In conclusion? 10/10 Ballet Boyfriend, would recommend for 100+ ballet lifetimes

#2p hetalia #2p!hetalia #2p #2p!#2p russia #2P!Russia #2p headcanons

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urmomsstuntdouble · 3 years

Text

happy jesus killing day lads, on this day i offer you some insider insight into my skater girls au

so they live in las vegas

the original idea was nyo spaus with them meeting when nyo prussia (annelise’s roommate) tears her acl while skating. anna is now required to drive her everywhere, which, for some fuckin reason still includes the skate park, which is how she meets isabel

julia is also in a rock band with kiku and chiara, and their current goal is to play in a casino. any casino really but since anna works at a casino, julia’s trying to get her to put a good word in, but anna doesn’t really want to because she’s stressed tm and she’s already driving julia everywhere, including to the fucken skate park, where she can’t do anything because she’s on crutches

isabel thinks all this is hilarious and likes to poke fun at anna a lot, cause she’s just sort of amused by this stressed out posh lady

the skate park is a sort of community gathering spot for all these fuckin lesbians of las vegas, and though anna isn’t a skater and doesn’t know anything about skating she still feels a little drawn to it

but she also cant take a fucken joke to save her life so when isabel starts teasing her she gets >:( in return, which gives her the reputation as an angy person and the skater girls start accepting her into the group

other skater girls include nyo sweden, nyo hong kong, nyo finland, hungary, iceland (they’re bad at it but want to be alt very badly), vietnam, seychelles, and Probably More once the au gets more developed

criteria to join the skater group is that i have to make a design where you look good on a skateboard/in skates

nyo sweden wanted to be a pro ballerina in her youth but also she’s stuck in vegas so the best she can really hope for is being a stripper or smth so she’s just gonna go be a pseudo ballerina but with inline skates

she’s also currently getting her phd in online school in education, and she’s married to nyo fin because i’m lazy and reusing my baseline human au characterisations for them

nyo hong kong is also stuck in vegas bc her uncle (yao) owns a casino

she’s not complaining about living at a casino bc thats undeniably cool, but she is complaining about having to live there all the time

ice and sey think its cool though and are supportive when she wants to crash at one of their houses for the night

nyo fin is a college dropout and she’s living with the other nordics in an apartment that’s a bit too far from the strip to walk, but she does it anyway (in the winter) cause she likes walking. she works at the same casino that yao owns, and she’s a very manipulative dealer

hungary is another roommate with anna and julia. she’s more into the skating for the excersize and used to want to be in the military, but now she’s just sort of making it through the days and working at a restaurant.

iceland is very upset with the fact that they’re a teenager in las vegas, but at least their friend lives at a casino and they won’t get kicked out for being queer. passionate about learning, but vegas isn’t really kid friendly, so they’re a bit >:(

vietnam skates to blow off steam. she is a bartender and hates the customer service aspect of her job, but she actually quite likes mixing drinks. she’d do quite a few things to escape, and she hates living in the desert, but here the fuck she is, at least for now.

seychelles is also a bit pissed about being a teenager in las vegas, and also pleased that her friend lives at a casino. she’s her class president at school and wants to go into education herself someday

other background/non skater characters include:

kiku, who plays bass in his band. julia and chiara are also in the band and play drums and piano, respectively. he has asked anna to join the band because she gets away with murder on the violin but she’s politely refused him. he’s their manager and books them gigs a lot. they’ve played at a lot of places around town, but are currently looking to get into some of the bigger casinos, like caesar’s palace or something

alfred, who’s one of chiara’s childhood friends. they moved to vegas together after high school (with the intent of moving to la) but alfred’s car broke down in the desert and they sort of wound up needing to live here so they could work to afford to fix the car and then make more savings to move to la but now they just live in vegas (they’re both from new york)

the other nordics! nyo norway works at a claires’ and nyo denmark is trying to make it as a standup comedian

yao, the owner of a casino. he’s one of those bosses who says stuff like we treat our employees like family here, and he actually sort of does but tis only because he’s a bit of a distant uncle. some of his relatives (hk, taiwan, and macau) have moved into the casino as well and he’s very stressed by all these responsibilities but can’t let anyone see him sweating so he maintains the air of a magnificent bastard

maybe india has seen him sweating.

chiara is also in the band, she’s their singer. the band was formed when she met julia at her old job, when she was a freelance singer and got hired to do the national anthem by germany’s high school, and they met at a football game. she’s in the band now and she’s Trying Her Best

i think that’s it actually

art for this au x x

#woof this took an while to type out but yeah this is my skater au #they skate <3 #hetalia #hws #skater girls au #back by unpopular demand #ceros posting #idk what else to tag this as #nyotalia #spaus??

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hetaliatxtpostz · 5 years

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This is Late as the Americans to space but uh,,, Our boy Ivan?

RUSSIA! Also not one of mine, but one of my favorites. I would like to start by saying, first of all Anon, rude. Wow. Whose flag is on the moon? (When the Soviet Union doesn't exist anymore, who really won the space race, I say ;) Seriously tho, I love Russia as a character.

Personality: Okay, it seems like the fandom goes two ways on this, right? You've got your softer version of Russia who's cuter, and your harder version of Russia who is cold and jaded. I go the second way. I think of Russia as one of the most mature characters in the fandom. He has no illusions about how cruel the world is, how dark human nature is. He is so, so very tired. It isn't that he isn't good, it's that he has tried to be good and learned that it is not pragmatic. Always honest about everything, Russia is not manipulative: if he is going to hurt you, he will tell you. He values respect, and his is hard to earn. He's a quiet person (if he has to raise his voice it's either .... Extremly bad or you're just America). He is very deadpan, and has a dry sense of humor that intimidates a lot of people who can't tell he's joking.

Headcanons: Russia's house is extremely cozy; he spends hours doing crafts like knitting and embroidery. He likes bright colors, even if he doesn't wear them. Sunflowers are his favorite flower (I think this is just canon, maybe)? He has a scar across his throat in just about ever version of him I use, and he wears the scarf to cover it. (His neck is also a very sensitive place for him). It is extremely difficult to make him laugh, or even genuinely smile. He is extremely intelligent, and very cultured, but he doesn't care much to discuss these things with most people. He is an excellent figure skater, and is in general more graceful than his size would indicate.

Ships: Well. RusAme is my OTP. I think that America is a a good beam of sunshine into Russia's darker worldview. He lightens Russia's mood, he makes him laugh, and he is so damn hopeful and optimistic. I also think America has the steel to match and fight Russia's sadistic side. (I love in RusAme to think that America is the only person who has never been afraid of Russia). I do also ship Russia and Prussia (see earlier post about that lol) and Russia and Canada (who I like to make friends).

Favorite AUs: Oh, I have so many for Russia!! I like to make him a student of astrophysics with America. I like to make him a criminal, many times one who was born into it and has left the life. I also like him as a soldier, or some kind of evil being-- YES, like a demon-- that is so old and tired, he's just over it despite his power. I also like to make him a figure skater, hockey player, or ballerina. I like to give him powers and specifically make them ice powers.

Other Relationships: Mainly I have him interacting with America and Canada, and being friends with Canada. Normally, he has a lot of tension with (and even actively dislikes) Prussia. His sisters remain a soft spot in his life, and he is always more emotional than his normal stoicism when they are involved. He and England can get along fairly well. He is also friends with China, who he feels a kinship with for many reasons. (They're both tired).

How well do I know Russia?: The best I know Russia is during the Stalinist period, which is what I've studied most. I also know what went down during the Cold War. I think I have a decent idea of what's going on in modern day Russia, but I wouldn't call myself in as any sort of refrence for it, no. Especially since what I get is filtered through an American media.

#nation asks #aph russia #ivan braginski #hetalia

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2pcontinued · 6 years

Text

2ps as Danganronpa Traits

Allies

2p America/Allen Jones: Super High School Level Rapper

2p Canada/Matthieu Williams: Super High School Level Carpenter

2p England/Oliver Kirkland: Super High School Level Care-taker

2p France/Francois Bonnefoy: Super High School Level Poet

2p China/Zao Wang: Super High School Level Comedian

2p Russia/Viktor Braginski: Super High School Level Author

2p Ukraine/Khrystyna Braginksi: Super High School Level Makeup Artist

2p Belarus/Tanya Braginski: Super High School Level Ballerina

Axis

2p Italy/Luciano Vargas: Super High School Level Food Critic

2p Germany/Lutz Beilschmidt: Super High School Level Weight-lifter

2p Japan/Kuro Honda: Super High School Level Samurai

2p Romano/Flavío Vargas: Super High School Level Tailor

2p Prussia/Gilen Beilschmidt: Super High School Level Veterinarian

2p Austria/Roland Edelstein: Super High School Level Paranormal Hunter

2p Hungary/Juliá Héderváry: Super High School Level Gunsmith

(I've been watching Danganronpa lately, so I wanted to write this! hehe hope y'all enjoy)

#2p hetalia #2p america #2p canada #2p england #2p france #2p russia #2p china #2p italy #2p germany #2p japan #2p romano #2p prussia #2p austria #2p ukraine #2p belarus #2p hungary

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3phetaliaverse · 5 years

Text

3p!Axis Physical Description HeadCannon’s

this is going to be long

Francesco Vargas (3p!North Italy)

he’s tall in a sense (5″11″)

a lean frame (built similar to a ballerinas)

darkly tanned skin like his 2p’s but it has patches of paler tan on him, one on his right eye and takes the whole space, a couple on his arms that are around 2-3 inches each, some on his torso that are larger (6 inches wide), and some on his legs that are around 2-3 inches wide

wispy platinum blonde hair that’s short and curly

icy blue eyes

smiles that know things that you don’t

very very graceful, steps are light, he makes a good thief

light bags under his eyes

scars on his torso from when 3p!Rome (Octavius, he’s a jerk and i hate him) got his hands on him for a while

his curl does exist,,,same thing as his first/second players

Reinhardt Beilschmidt (3p!Germany)

taller then Francesco but only by a couple of inches (6″2′)

built like 1p!Germany but less muscular

fair snowy skin with freckles on his forehead

midnight blue/black curly hair similar to some of 2p!Germany’s (Lutz) designs

dark amber eyes

soft cute amazing smiles that make it seem that he doesn’t know if he’s allowed to smile

clumsy with his hands but somewhat balanced in walking

scars from fights with his brother, Kaiser (3p!Prussia)

no bags under his eyes

he’s so pure i love him so much

Riku Honda (3p!Japan)

short (5″3′)

lean figure like Francesco but a bit more muscular

macaroon cream toned skin

pitch black really long hair, usually up in high ponytail

his hairs straight but he ain’t

periwinkle colored eyes

really cute smiles

athletic in multiple ways, hasn’t tripped in a long time (unless Zao trips him)

scars on his back from “Little Boy” and “Fat Man”. Chris feels really guilty whenever he catches glimpse of them and wishes he got their in time. Riku forgives him though.

dark bags under his eyes

he’s a loveable kitten

Alessandro Vargas (3p!South.Italy/Romano)\

oh boi he’s my favorite character, i love him so much fjkajdkljafkdj a i would die for him+a couple others

tallllll (6″8′)

hunky muscular figure

skin tone similar to Francescos with the same patches of lighter skin on him, just his are more on his torso.

chocolate/dark umber hair mix similar to the 2p!South.Italy’s hairstyle

pale emerald eye color with shards of darker emerald in them

doesn’t smile much, but when he opens up and rambles absently about something his eyes light up and he wears a crooked smile that looks adorable and hot at the same time??? it’s worth to see.

more balanced then Zao, due to Octavius’s strict “training”

so many scars, this poor man has been through enough

he’s missing his left eye and a right thumb because of Octavius’s drunken rages

he has a slash across his nose due to the same reason, and missing his entire left leg after it got caught under a building (long story)

has a lot more scars on his back from severe beatings, and a lot on his arms ‘cause of self harm.

he needs all the love he can get

bags under his eyes heavier then my sins

curl exists just like his first/second players

Carlos Fernández Carriedo (3p!Spain)

can’t spell Spain without pain

tall but when he’s next to Alessandro he looks short (6″0′)

scrawny yet a bit muscular figure

he has dat ass

dark olive skin tone

he has permanent dirty blonde hair in a similar style to 1p!Spains but his hair colors actually dark hickory

the only reason he has dirty blonde hair is because of a drunken mistake with the BTT

teal/cyan eyes with hearts in them

a lot of burns due to him around with his “power”/magic/curse

wears gloves like Elsa, except these are everything-proof

no bags under his eyes

grumpy yet happy ray of sunshine

Julian Edelstein (3p!Austria)

he and Perceus hate each other because both have egos bigger then the earth

average height for a Male Austrian (5″11′)

very skinny figure

medium blonde hair that’s in the style like 1p!Austrias just a bit longer

snowy white skin with flecks of a pale orange on them

heather toned eyes

some scars from wars but they’re real faded now

no bags under his eyes because a king gets his sleep

Mean dudebut i love him

Kaiser Beilschmidt (3p!Prussia)

This boi

smol angry ball (he’s 4″11″ ahhaakhhahahh he hates that he is)

a bit chubby figure that makes hugging him (assuming that he lets you touch him in the first place) adorable

skin tone similar to 1p!Prussia’s

really pale platinum blonde hair with faint streaks of blue in them (the same event that led to Carlos having permanent blonde hair led him to have cyan blue hair for a month, and Theodore having pink tips for three months)

some scars from fights with Reinhardt

huge bags under his eyes

#i thought this would be longer #it wasnt #oh well #3phetalia #3pPrussia #3pAustria #3pNorth+South Italy #3p!Germany #3p!japan

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littleyellowgilbird · 6 years

Text

Black Swan

Title: Black Swan

Rating: M

AU: Human AU, Nyotalia

Summary: Theatre-AU. Sofia is a ballerina and she hates Julia passionately. She hates all in this German girl: her haircut, her awful roaring accent, her habits. And her lips are bitter. Like a wormwood. Fem!Prussia/Fem!Austria.

Sofia hates Julia passionately.

She hates all in this German girl: her haircut, her awful roaring accent, her habits.

Fifi.

She spits toothpaste with water out disgustedly and then waters it away. Her lips are covered with a sticky bitter peel of Julia’s cigarettes, and eyes water because of tobacco smoke of Marlboro.

What a stupid name! Fifi. Like a dog nickname.

Healthy life wasn't her creed, but she will blame herself for such a weakness led to the tear marathon, tobacco smoke and cheap Hungarian porn that made her vomit in a toilet until morning. After all, smoking was harmful to her lungs and she's known that but couldn't do anything. And Julia has always noticed that due to Sofia’s pant and liked to joke about it.

What a bitch. And for her, it all was the same. Sofia guesses that Julia will breathe smoke soon.

Her lips are bitter. Like a wormwood.

Coffee doesn't help to wake up but make her drink more it. Like a very expensive and exclusive drug. If there were punishment for drinking coffee Sofia would be all her life in a prison. Oh yeah, coffee is a drug.

Her feet hurt, and blisters bleed.

She wishes she could never see this barre again and could never exercise with it. But then her role will be played by that stupid burring Nazi. Though Julia always gets pissed when someone calls her Nazi.

So funny.

Sofia hates Julia because she is always better than she. She's always gotten all too easy. She's always done all too great. She's been too German.

‘How, holy gods, can you live in such a shit?’

Firstly, Sofia wanted to take offence but then realized that she indeed needs to clean up her living room. But, unfortunately, since her last mate had left her, she didn't have any time to tidy.

Daniel was too good. And Sofia doesn't like when somebody does something better than she. As and Julia.

They were similar. Two different and similar girls.

‘Are you all equal in Germany? Well, unisex and all such shit?’

Sofia knew that Julia hates when someone tells her that. Sofia knew that Julia tries to be a girl. And Sofia knew that Julia hates to be a girl.

‘And my brother…’

Oh yeah. Julia knew that Sofia always gets pissed when she tells about her brother. And she liked to talk about him. You can do anything for a man that you love.

Taxi stops too sharply, and Sofia finds her coffee on her blouse. Maybe it's for better. Because no one can drink six coffee cups in an hour. Even Sofi. Taxi driver tries to say sorry, but she doesn't listen to him and leaves the car throwing some dollars.

Oh, gods! Julia isn't supposed to watch her in such an awful way.

Shit. Julia's already practicing. Black swan. Like another mockery. Like another effort to show how different they are.

White and black.

Soldier and musician.

Julia doesn't see how Sofi comes to her dressing room. And Sofi doesn't see how mop of white hair appears in the dressing room.

Fifi?

Again. Again, that stupid name. Call your dog such name!

Sofia keeps silence and doesn't turn around, trying to unbutton her dirty blouse. Coffee is still steaming, and she can feel the pleasant scent of it. And Julia sets her hands on her shoulders.

These hands could touch her eternally. Too soft and accurate. She doesn't deserve such hands. They can't belong to such a… girl.

There is a sharp reversal, and bright scarlet eyes stare at her attentively, noticing a huge brown spot on her chest. There is so familiar grin. The scent of Julia’s cigarettes has already messed with the scent of coffee. But there was something else.

The perfume.

Sofi gave Julia this perfume last Christmas. Oh god...

Adroit hands take her from her thoughts, and Sofi notices that all buttons are already unbuttoned because of cold light wind against her skin. They need to ask for aeration repairing. Otherwise, she can get cold.

Clumsily, Sofia thanks German and tries to step back from her. But black swan always gets all. And she will get her white queen. No matter what it takes.

It's too hot in the room, and she finds herself being set up on the desk. Julia knows her too well, so she won't let her go. Not now. And Sofia knows herself too well to let herself defeat.

It's a lost fight.

Sweet perfume tickles her nose, and her lips are dark-red after Julia’s kiss. Her hand has taken Sofia’s body as their property long ago and study it impudently. And Sofia doesn't try to resist. Because every white swan needs his own dark side.

The temperature is rising, so aeration doesn't help at all, her voice doesn't hide her feelings, and Julia still smiles and doesn't say anything after her coming in the dressing room. Their colleagues don't come in because they know about their relationships. So, no one will interfere.

Julia bites her light smooth skin of the neck and leaves there bright red marks. Her forehead is sweating. Julia’s fingers are long and thin. As if she was a pianist. Sofia always liked pianists. She loved Daniel because of that too.

Julia plays her. She plays her soul, she discovers her, studies her. Julia knows Sofia better than Sofia knows herself.

And Sofia hates her for that.

Mobile phone rings softly in a bag, but Julia doesn't allow her to take it and hits her hand roughly. German hisses something in her ear continuing her pleasurable tortures. Though Sofia cannot understand a thing. Maybe it's because of her accent. Maybe because she doesn't care.

Her chest rises as high as it's possible with her bra and Julia wrinkles. She always gets annoyed because of this stupid unnecessary thing. Well, it's her opinion. Her hands reach clasp and, in the next moment, she throws bra in the depth of costumes and old clothes.

Sofia’s breast is beautiful. Not like Julia’s. And Julia wants to kill Fifi for that, this little submissive dog that tries hard to prove that she can live without her master.

Julia likes to rule Fifi. She likes to see how she squirms under her lips leaving bright sucks on her breast. She belongs only to her. And everyone's supposed to know that. She likes to watch her half-opened mouth, that little sharp tongue that always says such many filths. Almost like hers.

She likes to watch Fifi weak, faintly moaning her name and praising to stop this torture. She likes to put her in embarrassing situations in front of their colleagues. Because theatre is a very sophisticated thing. And everyone will talk about their little enjoyment in the dressing room during dinner pause.

Sofia begs her to stop and shivers at every movement of German.

It's a little price for victory.

Black swan concedes only ones.

Her skirt is ripped. Her legs sparkle with shame that Sofi wants to forget. She wants not to hear that blaming voices in her head, but she can't. Julia smokes. Again. She doesn't care that that is banned. Though no one really cares about that. They even turn off the fire alarm.

Are you really think you can escape from me?

A crumpled ticket to New York is thrown on the table. Sofi tries to hide view from Julia, but the German grabs her chin demandingly, nipping a cigarette with her teeth, and rise her face. She can read almost what the German doesn't say in her eyes. But Sofia understands all.

She belongs to her.

Darkness always has to have light.

Julia walks away as suddenly as she came here, leaving Sofia alone with her thoughts and feelings. It would be better if she also left her a book Thousand and One Way to Kill. It would be surprisingly generous.

Sofia turns herself to the mirror and wipes the tears away, smudging cheap mascara. She needs to buy a normal maquillage.

Points shoes squeeze her legs, pressing band in wounded skin. Black tracks of tear and hatred are running down her cheeks. She hates only one person in this world. And she's supposed to be next to him yet ten rehearsal hours.

Sofi doesn't know when Julia managed to change her clothes and went on stage.

Julia seems not to notice scarlet blood that leaks through soft pointe shoes and carries on dancing.

Sofi hates her passionately.

Yet she already likes the name. Fifi.

#hetalia #Hetalia Prussia #hetalia austria #pruaus #prussia #austria #femslash #nyotalia #fanfiction

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