#prukweek

[ladyinfierno-art]

He compartido 74 publicaciones este 2022

¡Son 30 más que en 2021!

47 publicaciones originales (64 %)

27 reblogueos (36 %)

Estos son los blogs que más he reblogueado:

@ladyinfierno-art

@ladyinfierno

@prukweek

@hwsnabroszine

He etiquetado 74 publicaciones en 2022

#junestuff: 42 publicaciones

#hetalia: 40 publicaciones

#aph prussia: 29 publicaciones

#hws prussia: 27 publicaciones

#pruk: 23 publicaciones

#prueng: 20 publicaciones

#aph england: 19 publicaciones

#hws england: 17 publicaciones

#aph germany: 9 publicaciones

#hws germany: 9 publicaciones

La etiqueta más larga tiene 137 caracteres

#most of my energy goes into work&trying to have a healthy lifestyle&a bit of moping&awful family situations&zine stuff i try to get right

Mis publicaciones más populares este 2022:

5

@germanbrosweek Day 3: Mud | “Do you remember when you were younger and…?” 

Not-so-little-anymore brother

115 notas. Fecha de publicación: 13 de mayo de 2022

4

@germanbrosweek Day 7. Free day

Gilbert took the photo and changed his brother’s wallpaper. Ludwig just has “forgotten” to change it back. It’s been months :)

141 notas. Fecha de publicación: 16 de mayo de 2022

3

@hwsrarepairweek2022 Day 3: Flowers

When you’re in love but can’t stand the moron

192 notas. Fecha de publicación: 27 de junio de 2022

2

@hwsrarepairweek2022 Day 4: Historical

He remembers.

218 notas. Fecha de publicación: 28 de junio de 2022

Mi publicación más popular de 2022

My piece for the @hwsnabroszine, had a lot of fun with this one ✨

599 notas. Fecha de publicación: 21 de diciembre de 2022

Descubre tu resumen del 2022 en Tumblr →

[coralcatsea]

To those who have recently commented/tag-commented on my posts (especially the ones for PrUK Week, since I surprisingly was getting tag-comments on several of them) thank you so much! I see and appreciate them!

[prukevents]

Announcing PrUK Week 2018

It’s June! which means that it’s almost time for PrUK Week! Starting from June 18th, we’ll post reminders for these prompts every day of the week.

June 18th: Impulses

June 19th: Youth

June 20th: Fear

June 21st: Tradition

June 22nd: Sacred

June 23rd: Choices

June 24th: Fate

Feel free to interpret these prompts however you wish for your writing/drawing/other creative ventures! The aim of this event is for everyone to have fun and create more content for this ship!

Please reblog this post so more people can join in!

Thanks! - the admins

[chasingbutterfliesintoeternity]

Waiting upon the Grace of the Heavens

I’m actually really happy with this one, thought finding a title was a struggle. Written for PrUK Week Day 5: Sacred

Fandom: Hetalia Pairing: PrUK (EnglandXfem!Prussia) Word count: 940

Summary: Gods rarely appeared before mortals, but Arthur is lucky enough to have been visited by a goddess three times during his life

The goddess appeared to him three times.

The first time was right after Arthur’s first battle. He had been a young knight, eager to prove himself, earning himself a place on the battlefield. War wasn’t what he’d expected, the reality was harsh and cruel, but still he survived and believed in the glory of victory. She appeared before him amidst the carnage of the battlefield, unmoved by the scene around her. Enrobed in black darker than night, hair as white as bone, eyes and lips the colour of the blood he’d spilled that day.

‘Giselle the inexorable,’ Arthur knelt as he addressed her, there was mistaking who she was. ‘My lady.’

Giselle the inexorable. Giselle, goddess of war and death. Gods rarely appeared before mortals, and who knew what one as powerful and feared as Giselle might want from him. The legends say that she was once a princess, held hostage in her enemies’ court. They slaughtered her family anyway, and she fell into grief and rage. In her grief, her hair turned white, but in her rage, she annihilated the occupants of their palace. Not a single soul was spared from the massacre, and when it was over, she ended her life upon her own blade. The gods, impressed by this feat, took pity on her suffering and raised her into their ranks, so that she could unleash her grievances upon mankind forevermore. But legends were just legends, and Arthur could see no way that the goddess before him had ever been mortal.

‘You recognise me, good.’ Her voice was cold and clear, indifferent, with just a hint of approval that sent shivers down Arthur’s spine. ‘Rise, brave one. From now on, you will be my champion.’

Champion. That word filled Arthur with pride, re-enervated him from the weariness of battle. He felt a change in his bones and knew that he’d been decreed to enact the will of the goddess. He wanted to say he accepted, to pledge his life to her, but by the time Arthur found his way back onto his feet she had already vanished.

In his next battles, he felt the presence of the goddess, expectant, urging him to fight harder, to push himself to the limit. Even in times of peace, he could see her beautiful, impassive face in his mind’s eye. Her statues don’t do her any justice, and they are hidden in derelict temples or in shadowy corners of pantheons, for while war and death are respected and feared by all, they are loved by none. Arthur visited them anyway, cleaning her altars and leaving her offerings regardless of war or peace, he was her chosen champion after all.

She appeared again after his greatest victory; the conquest of a neighbouring land. As his King’s most decorated knight, this newest acquisition would be his to rule.

‘Lady Giselle,’ he knelt as he saw her.

The goddess of war and death was just as breathtakingly, blood-chillingly beautiful as she had been the first time Arthur had seen her, but this time she seemed less frightening.

‘Well done, my champion.’ She told him, with the ghost of a smile upon her lips. ‘You may rise. Thank you for maintaining my shrines, it has been appreciated. You will continue to fight with my blessing.’

He wished that she would say more, so that he could remain longer in her sacred presence, to tell her he’d pledged his life to her, but once again Giselle was gone before he could speak a word.

Arthur ordered a great temple to be built in her honour as soon as his rule was stabilised, and personally oversaw that it was properly maintained. He continued to fight wars for the High King and felt her presence as he fought. Her blessing, as she had said. He longed to see her again, the almost-smile she’d given him haunted his dreams. In between battles he spent much of his time at her temple. He was the most devoted of her worshippers, and his devotion was not unrewarded. With every battle her presence felt stronger and sometimes he felt her guide his aim or whisper praise or warning across his mind. But hope as he might, pray as he might, she would not appear in person. Be patient, she seemed to tell him whenever he entered her temple, and Arthur held onto his hope that he would see her again, for that sounded almost like a promise. As long as he served her, she would not abandon him.

The last time, she appeared as he lay mortally wounded on a battlefield. Pain numbing all other sensations, his vision already fading, Arthur felt the shift in the air that heralded her physical presence, rather than seeing her.

‘Giselle...’ he managed to rasp out, he couldn’t move, couldn’t make any display of his respect and devotion towards her.

A cold hand caressed his cheek, and Arthur felt himself being supported upwards. The pain subsided, his vision cleared, and he looked up to face the goddess.

‘My bravest champion,’ she said to him with a pleased smile, her hand still cupped around his face. ‘It is time for you to join me forever in death.’

The legends tell of a new god; Arthur the harbinger, consort of Giselle the inexorable. The god of courage in battle and a judge of honour. They say, that when a strange, handsome man with golden hair and green eyes appears, a terrifyingly beautiful woman with white hair and red eyes will soon follow, then war and death will find the land and all those judged unworthy shall perish.

Notes: Look, I’ve called fem!Prussia a war goddess many times by this point, that it’s only fair that I actually made her one in a story

[ellelawliet11]

Para la PrUK  Week 

Day 5: Sacred

[ssuckitlosers]

Random headcanon:

Hws Scotland taught Hws England how to shoot an arrow, and as soon as he learnt the basics, Arthur practiced for a month straight so he could brag about being better than Alistair.

[hanahaki-cure]

Happy 1st day of PrUk-week, fellas :D @prukweek, a small sketch I made for the topic of “Years” - this particular year 1839 was the year Prince Albert of Sachsen-Coburg und Gotha asked for Queen Victoria’s hand. Despite political and personal hardships, Victoria was profoundly in love with Albert. After his death she wore black for the rest of her life.

Personally I do like this historical connection for a characterization of Arthur and Gilbert coming into contact, the first longer contact after years of “brief” cooperation.

[liemurienn]

Day 8 : free day @prukweek

i miss cardverse content

[prukweek]

It’s here at last! Welcome to the PrUK Week 2022! 8 days to show our love and appreciation to this wonderful ship! This year the event runs through August 15th to 22nd.

We have a theme and a one word prompt for each day, so anyone can be inspired to bring this pair to life in their work!

Day 1. (15 Aug) -  Royalty | Bodyguard

Day 2. (16 Aug) -  Firsts | Memories

Day 3. (17 Aug) -  Drunk shenanigans | Wedding

Day 4. (18 Aug) -  Myths & gods | Letters

Day 5. (19 Aug) -  Family | Kisses

Day 6. (20 Aug) -  Fantasy/Supernatural | Blood

Day 7. (21 Aug) -  Soulmates | Tattoos

Day 8. (22 Aug) -  Free day

Also, to make this a nice experience for everyone involved, there’s a set of simple rules to follow if you want to participate, I’ll leave them under the read more.

Any questions or comments can be forwarded to this blog or @ladyinfierno, make sure to read the FAQ first. Hope you have a nice time, everybody! ✨

Follow this blog to be updated on the news.

You can feature as many characters and side pairings as you like, but of course Prussia/England should be the main focus.

For your work to be reblogged you must include #prukweek2022 in the first five tags of your post, and mention @prukweek to make sure I don’t miss your post.

Every post should be tagged accordingly to its content, if you’re posting a link to an external site (AO3, FFN, etc) the post should contain any pertinent warnings.

That being said, because of Tumblr’s policies, no NSFW art can be shared on the blog.

The content you post has to be 100% made by you, no claiming other’s work as yours.

Absolutely no harassment nor hate will be tolerated, if you see something like this don’t engage and report to the mod, they’ll just get blocked. We’re trying to have fun so please behave.

Long posts should be under a read more. (Consider 600 words the limit, if it’s a bit over it’s fine, but your 2k fic definitely needs it.)

And this still isn’t a rule, but if you like the creations of your fellow fans, consider reblogging and commenting their works so they can know :)

[koolkat9]

Pruk Week 2022: Day 1

@prukweek

Prompt: Royal || Body guard

Rating: T

Paring: Pruk

Word Count: 1498

Their Happily Ever After

Once upon a time, in a faraway land, yadayada. There was a kingdom yadayadayada. A prince. But we don’t really care about him (at least not yet). No, our story is interested in a young thief, barely the age of ten.

Arthur Kirkland was from a long line of thieves. His grandparents were thieves, His mother was a thief. His brothers and sister were thieves. So logically, Arthur Kirkland would be a thief. And our young Arthur could not wait to start and become the best thief out of his family (and finally have something to shove in his brothers’ faces). So when his brother Alastair invited him to sneak into the castle with them, Arthur was quick to agree.

But then, the guards came, and when his brother turned left, Arthur instead turned right. He ended up collapsing outside in what looked like a garden. It was small and quaint, but despite its size, all kinds of colourful flowers lined the perimeter. In the center, there was a small fountain, overgrown with vines, broken down, but still beautiful. Though the fountain was far from the most beautiful thing in the garden.

In the far corner, below an old oak tree, sat a boy with snow white hair, porcelain skin, and crimson red eyes. He looked beautiful. Almost like the fairies, Arthur had seen in books or as described by his brothers. Quietly, Arthur approached.

The red-eyed boy immediately looked up, spooked, though his hard glare tried to mask it. “How did–Y-You shouldn’t be here,” he hissed.

Arthur blinked himself out of his daze. “S-Sorry I…I think I’m a little lost.” Now, one thing you should know about the Kirklands: Kirklands never apologized. But when the boy looked at him with both strength and fear, Arthur buckled.

The boy sighed and rose from his spot under the tree. “I guess I don’t really have a choice but to guide you out.”

And so our young thief followed the fairy-like boy through the twisting halls that made up the castle. Just as they were about to reach the exit, something caught Arthur’s eye. They passed by a door that had been left wide open leading to a room full of books. Shelves reaching almost to the ceiling filled the room, the comfiest looking chairs surrounded a large brick fireplace on the farthest wall and the dark wooden accents finished off the cozy room. Though Arthur had never been taught to read, he had always loved stories and books so this room seemed like a dream.

His guide took notice, his gaze softening. “Would you like to take a peek?”

“I-I…”

The boy smirked. “It’s not every day outsiders get to come to the castle. You should take this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.”

Arthur looked over at the boy, then back at the library. The boy was right, who knew if he would ever get a chance like this again? Before he could talk himself out of it, Arthur ran into the room.

The young thief looked around in awe, almost falling on his butt as he looked up at the wall of books beside the fireplace. Though he could never hope to read all these books in his lifetime, he would be content if he could read just one. He grabbed a book of fairytales, drawn in by the twisting gold vines on the spine and cover of the old leather book. He flipped through the pages, amazed by the imagery in front of him as he tried to piece together the story from the illustrations alone.

The boy hovered over his shoulder. “You like fairy tales?” He asked.

“Yes…um…” Arthur looked up at the boy before looking down at the book with pink cheeks. “I…I don’t exactly know how to read, but…My brothers are quite the storytellers, and they always tell me one before I go to sleep…Unfortunately, we don’t have money for books.”

The boy’s eyes widened “You can’t read?”

“No…I-I’d like to but…”

“I’ll teach you,” the boy stated. He took Arthur’s hand and pulled him towards a nearby chair.

For nearly a decade, Arthur would sneak in with the help of the boy with the snow-white hair, and they’d spend every other afternoon in the library, teaching Arthur how to read. And for a moment, Arthur wasn’t focused on being a thief or one-upping his brothers, all that mattered was the fairy-like boy with fiery red eyes and all the books this boy had in his possession.

You’d think that as a thief and a cunning one at that, Arthur would have used this opportunity to at least steal something of value, but when Arthur was with this boy, he couldn’t bring himself to. What if he got caught? What would the boy think if he found out? Over the years, the boy slowly revealed how lonely he was. His father ignored him, his title was to be given to his younger brother, he didn’t have any friends, and even the staff of the castle seemed to avoid him. Arthur couldn’t ruin the one friendship he seemed to have. And if Arthur was being honest, he himself was lonely as well and couldn’t bare to lose his only friend.

But all good things had to come to an end. At seventeen, Arthur finally learned the true identity of his friend; Prince Gilbert. All this time he had been schmoozing with a member of the royal family. And worst of All the king had caught wind of his son’s and Arthur’s relationship. In the end, Arthur was given an ultimatum, never step foot in the kingdom again and thus never see Gilbert again or rot in jail for trespassing on royal grounds. With a heavy heart, Arthur had chosen the prior.

Years went by, and the prince had no idea where his friend had ended up. He spent his days, isolated and lonely in the library until the day of his father’s death. A true damsel if there ever was one.

But upon his father's death, finally free from their father’s tyrannical hand, Gilbert and his brother Ludwig were reunited. Crowned Prince Ludwig had always seemed cold and stoic, but as soon as they were able to meet each other face to face, Ludwig broke and was pulled into the tightest hug imaginable. Suffice it to say, our prince Gilbert was welcomed back into the royal line.

Though no longer lonely, Gilbert could never forget the thief who had stolen his heart. Despite royal duties often getting in the way, Gilbert would return to the small garden he had first met the thief, hoping that the boy would return one day.

On the day of Ludwig’s coronation, Gilbert sat by the window, looking out at the garden. With all the commotion of the day, he knew he wouldn't be able to sneak off to the garden. Not that he wanted to. He had to be there for his baby brother. Currently, He was waiting for his new guards to come to fetch him. His father had never cared to give him proper security, but now that Ludwig was in charge he was going to be given a whole branch to ensure his protection.

A knock at the door signaled the first group was here already. With a deep breath, the prince collected himself. Now wasn’t the time to lament about a relationship lost to time. He opened the door and came face to face with a familiar pair of green eyes and a head of dirty blond hair. The thief had done it again. “Art–”

“Your knight in shining armour has arrived,” Arthur said with a bow.

“Does that make me the princess?” Gilbert asked with a choked laugh.

“Absolutely.”

So many questions swam around the prince’s mind: Where had Arthur been all this time? Why was he dressed in a guard’s uniform? Was he to be Gilbert’s guard? So many questions, so little time, so instead, he leaped forward, pulling his friend into a tight hug. He laughed and cried into Arthur’s messy hair, though far cleaner than he had ever seen before.

“I’m here…I’m here love,” Arthur whispered, hugging Gilbert back just as tight.

“I missed you.”

“I missed you too.”

Gilbert refused to let go, even as another knock sounded at the door, signaling that Ludwig's coronation was about to begin. But Gilbert didn't want to leave. Not when Arthur was now at his fingertips. He leaned in only for Arthur to turn towards the door.

"I think we better head down. It would be bad if I got fired on my first day."

Gilbert let out a groan. For once, he missed being left out of these royal events. "Okay…" he reluctantly agreed, pulling away.

Arthur offered his arm, and the prince gladly accepted.

After the coronation festivities, the kingdom had a newer, kinder King, and Prince Gilbert and former thief Arthur were finally able to start their own happily ever after.

The end!

[the-heaminator]

Day 5 Pruk week,  Family/first kiss:

This is what inspired me to write one of my fics "but muum", but i havent gotten around to writing up to it yet, this will be added as a chapter later, but i think you should probably read the fic first to get a vague gist of what the fuck is going on, but this could perhaps be read as a standalone.

@prukweek

Both Arthur and Gilbert, to say the least, were a fucking adorable pair, everyone in the family and most out of it agreed.

And right now, in Arthur's incredibly tired state, and Gilbert in an emboldened one from his chat with Matthew, they were both in the same bed, as usual.

To anybody else two men sleeping in a bed together and cuddling was kinda gay, and it was kinda gay just the two had managed to put off admitting it for far too long and just about everyone was incredibly done with their shit.

Even fucking Ireland and Belgium who both had their little thing going in between them were done with their shit.

Being a man of both far too many and far too inhibitions, Arthur had decided to not sleep for about 3 nights straight, and aside from looking absolutely more undead than usual, sleep deprivation tends to make him more clingy, though only to people he trusts, otherwise. He becomes a whole other universe if grouchy, snapping at everyone and everything.

The rest if the family had managed to covince Arthur to lay the fuck down, and by convince i mean that Ireland and New zealand threatened to kill both him and Alfred with a spoon to get them to sleep, and in instead of risking a slow painful death from brain damage, they decided to actually go the fuck to sleep.

Matt had given Gilbert an encouraging thumbs up, Zee had given him a high and wished him luck, India gave him a look that said "teenagers" as if he wasn't nearly a thousand, well that was about a quarter of India's age.

Anyways Australia asked Gilbert to promise him, that if this worked he would treat Arthur well or he would be dead, and this was said with such honesty and actual familial love, that Gilbert swore on his own life, wondering how Arthur had managed to be blessed with such amazing children.

The British isles gave a similar sort of threat, but with concern for both, Dylan saying "I know he's a bastard, but he is very bad when it comes to matters of the heart, so please be gentle with him please."

Spoken like a true older brother, speaking for his entire emotionally constipated brood.

Denmark gave him a rather interesting text that detailed far too many things about the  Englishmans sex life that seemed to be written by France, why Denmark had the text was beyond him, also leaving him with a couple words of "encouragement", Denmark warned that if Arthur murdered him, he wont be paying for his funeral.

Gilbert knew this was the jest of a close friend, he was not dim enough to take it seriously, but as he apprehensively walked up the stairs and down the corridor to Arthur's room, he started to have second thoughts.

I mean I could always wait a few more days.

Or years.

Or centuries.

The thought of waiting much longer was so utterly miserable to Gilbert's mind that his psyche went.

Nah fuck it.

And allowed him to walk into the room where Arthur was decidedly not sleeping, somehow still awake enough to be tapping away at his laptop, though slower than usual, Gilbert approached him.

"Arthur, you really should sleep?" That was not what he wanted to come out at that moment but for once Gilbert did not have a plan and was (as some would say) going with the flow.

And currently the flow was about as smooth as the Volga in midwinter, which was to say that it was barely flowing at all, but when Arthur didn't move from his chair, Gilbert had to try a more imaginative approach.

"Come lay down, we can cuddle?" That sounded to fucking cheesy to Gilbert and Arthur looked at him, a little wistfully if he would say so himself, though it could very much just be a trick of the light.

"What makes it look like i *yawn* want to cuddle?" Arthur was speaking a bit too quick to be normal, great he was jacked up on caffeine too.

"Well, you're always cuddling me when you do sleep, and you look absolutely adorable." Ooh bit too direct, I hope he doesn't think in an ass or something.

"You're an ass Gilbert, you know that." 

WHAT DID I SAY, I KNEW HE WOULD SAY THAT.

Gil thought he fucked up good as Arthur's eyes travelled from him to the computer, back and forth as if to decide which would be more profitable for him, and to buy Arthur's and Gilbert's surprise, Arthur chose Gilbert.

Tips of his ears far too red Arthur grumbled "Don't get any ideas, I'm just tired." Before getting into bed and mentioning for Gilbert to join him after switching off his laptop, on some tab about trade reports and governmental deficits that seemed so frightfully boring.

The room now cloaked in darkness, and the house being unnaturally silent, even as everyone was awake, the two lay down on the bed together, as if they'd been doing this for centuries.

Which I mean they had but this time it felt a bit different.

Arthur on Gilbert's arm, a bit too close for Gilbert not to think that maybe Arthur actually did love him back, Gilbert's hand slowly going through Arthur's birds nest looking hair, slowly smoothing it out to some semblance of cleanliness before Gilbert, in an odd moment if courage, gave Arthur a chaste kiss on the forehead while both were still awake.

Usually if either ever did a kiss they were drunk or the other was asleep, but now both were very much within consciousness and lucidity.

Gilbert braced himself to get an earful from Arthur, perhaps him even getting out of bed in a huff, but none of that happened, instead Arthur seemed to be mentioning to kiss him again.

WHAT THAT ACTUALLY FUCKING WORKED WHAT THE FUUUUUUUUCK.

He repeated the kiss, this time it lasted a little longer, lingering for a second or two on Arthur's forehead, and if this wasn't such an odd situation Gilbert would have laughed at how the kiss immediately eased the tension within both of their bodies, but this was just too surreal to even be actually happening, and was miles away from Gilbert or Arthur being able to think full cohesive thoughts.

Finally, through a silence that could not be considered awkward, yet not considered incredibly comfortable either, one of them, Arthur, rasped "Gilbert...Gilbert why did you do that?" He sounded far more disbelieving than angry, yet Gilbert still thought he managed to mess something up.

"Shit shit shit, I'm sorry Arthur, really!"

Arthur looked at him, dead in the eye even in the dim light of the room, and seeing the actual fear and misery in his eyes, and the fluttering of his heart in his own chest, Arthur replied with "Why ever so?"

"I-I kissed you, are you not mad?"

"Why would I be Gilbert."

The room descended into silence again, this time loaded with tension and anticipation, which was shattered, rather brutally if I may add, by Arthur saying "Plus that was barely a kiss, let me show you how it's done."

With a surprising amount of agility from someone so sleep deprived, Arthur crashed his lips to Gilbert's, whose mind took a little longer to catch up with what his body was doing, too busy being distracted by this to respond immediately, god this felt so goodboth both their bodies so close together as they kissed.

But when he finally pushed back, he was not expecting such fervent from Arthur, he was even nipping Gilbert's lips as he deepened the kiss far beyond anywhere Gilbert had ever gone younger exploring Gilbert's slack mouth.

The poor soul had had around 3 romantic kisses in his life and was not prepared for this at all, Arthur tasted like coffee and tea with the vaguest taste of old cigarettes

Finally separating, both breathing hard, Gilbert whispered, a garbled mix of English and German "that was amazing."

Arthur looked both very embarrassed and incredibly relieved, one would after waiting so long and having it all come down like this was incredibly satisfying for the both of them.

Arthur slid off Gilbert, tucking himself back in the blanket as if nothing happened, as Gilbert's mind raced at a million miles an hour. Which started to exceed the speed of light as Arthur snuggled up close to him and fell asleep almost immediately, after mumbling, so quietly that Gilbert could barely hear it.

"I love you."

[ladyinfierno-art]

“I love everything those hands can do”

@prukweek Day 5: Family | Kisses

[coralcatsea]

@prukweek

Day 3: Marriage

[prukevents]

PrUK Week Day 5 prompt: Sacred

[chasingbutterfliesintoeternity]

Old Habits Die Hard

So I got really stuck on Day 3, and it’s really become a monster of a one shot that I still haven’t finished but I’ve decided to move on for now because I want to write for the other prompts. So without further ado, PrUK Week Day 4: Tradition

Fandom: Hetalia Characters:  aph Prussia, aph England (non speaking: aph France, aph Germany, aph Switzerland, aph Austria) Pairing: PrUK Word count: 513

Summary: Possibly the only thing that gets achieved during world meetings is the sense of having watched a good show, and this one is no different

It was agreed that nothing was ever achieved at a world meeting, save for perhaps a sense of having watched a good show. Today’s meeting was no different; France and England had gotten into a shouting match which then quickly devolved into a physical tussle. Both sides were egged on by various other nations until Germany and Switzerland finally got everything under control and ended the meeting. Even that had been delayed by Prussia instigating a debate between the two sensible Germanic nations over the grammatical gender of certain objects in German, which had soon been joined by Austria and nearly caused a separate fight to break out. But finally, order was restored, and they had all been expelled from the conference room.

‘Why do you hate France so much?’ Prussia asks England, laughing as they leave the world meeting building, and eyeing the shorter nation’s messy hair and clothes.

England quirks a bushy brow at him, not answering the question.

‘Why do you hate Austria so much?’ He asks instead.

Prussia is surprised, and he thinks for a moment.

‘I don’t really,’ he replies honestly. ‘Not anymore at least, but it’s fun to act like I do. It’s just a tradition I guess.’

‘And there you have your answer,’ England tells him with a satisfied smile.

Prussia laughs again; a short, amused bark of laughter.

‘It’s a tradition for you to hate France, who could have guessed’ he grins aggravatingly, causing England to roll his eyes at him. ‘You know what else is a tradition?’

‘Us joining the others at the hotel bar and making a nuisance for them?’ England says nonchalantly before flashing a devious smirk at Prussia. They both snicker. At the last few drinking sessions that always inadvertently happened after the world meetings, they had caused no small amount of trouble. The instigation of at least sixteen drunken arguments, several unadvisable bets, almost starting a second Cold War, and one too many incidences of bar peanuts being thrown down the backs of shirt collars, could all be attributed to this pair.

‘I wonder if West will try to ban me from coming to another meeting after tonight,’ Prussia ponders with some amusement. ‘Mind you, I’ve lost count of the times he’s tried that, but I just never listen.’

‘Maybe you should break this habit of not listening to your brother,’ England replies, just as amused. ‘He’s actually right sometimes, you know. How shocking for a younger sibling.’

‘Says you,’ Prussia mock grumbles. ‘Do you ever listen to any of your brothers?’

‘No,’ England admits. ‘But none of them are anywhere near as competent as yours.’

‘Well, it’s tradition for me not to listen to West,’ Prussia argues for the sake of arguing.

England looks disbelievingly at him, though he is quite used to this type of argument from Prussia by now.

‘You can’t just blame everything on tradition,’ He remarks with dry exasperation.

They continue to bicker while making insulting remarks about the other nations at the same time, as they always do, all the way back to the hotel.

[ellelawliet11]

Escrito para la PrUK Week 2018

Day 3; Fear