#prussia x canada

[aphvn-lovemessage]

Do you like Hetalia? Visual novels? Yaoi? Humor I barely laugh at? Misunderstandings (👎👎👎👎)? Awful writing and plot line and badly written characters? Well, we got the visual novel for you!

Love Message is a canpru/prucan visual novel featuring 6 different subroutes with some of your favorite characters. However, no matter which you chose, it will always lead back to a certain Prussian.

It features: the hetalia ost playing in the background and some other songs, “hetalia lemon hard”, and multiple illustrations! Not to mention my jokes of coding and probably two or more spelling mistakes.

Love Message will be available to download free of charge on Itch.io once it's ready!

[maplesyrupandsnow]

Ok.. here goes nothing.. phew

Prussia (@ask-the-awesome-prussian)

I.. I REALLY like you! Well.. not really like in a friend way.. I love you actually.. and I wanna go out with you..

I hope that wasn't too awkward..

[venjt]

Rewatched Hetalia and I had to draw me faves 😩💕 (Characters /pairs LOL) remember Hetalia?

[mysticlovendeath]

I got back into Hetalia and doodled some kiddos

WIP

[lavrach]

I might've been in a bit of a hurry to finish this chapter bc I wanted to post it on Christmas but I barely finished it before the end of the year...

[inkdheart17]

So, I recently stumbled onto @habken 's Battle of the Blades AU again (Izuku's design here and Katsuki's design here) and reading through it again it fit really well with my PruCan HC about Prussia being a figure skater and Canada being a hockey player.

I had also done a comic in the four going on a double date (you can read that here) so I was just possessed by the need to draw them all together again and ran with it

I was just so happy seeing them all together that I wanted to keep going and decided to show the different relations between them (AKA PruCan dating and BkDk still figuring things out)

I also HC both Prussia and Izu as trans. That's why they're on the cover of the magazine. It's an exclusive interview on trans rights in sports

As a bonus, I drew PruCan inviting Izu out dancing because Izu and Canada love dancing sm ((Prussia lives partying in general so he's always game)) problem is that I love the idea of Prussia and Kats butting heads a lot ((Mr Awesome and No. 1 don't get along lol)) so Kats immediately steals Izu away when he notices that his nerd not only is hanging out with his rival, but the bastard has hands all over him ((not actually)) that's HIS nerd tyvm

[whizzie123]

This is my first Prucan fic. I started it on A03, but decided to post it here as well.

Matthew was standing by his Uncle Allistor, who was at the helm. He was glad he convinced his father to let him oversee this in his stead. Matthew rarely left the house, let alone the city. He loved his father, but he was always kept inside to study and learn the family business while Alfred got to go out on trips with their father. At night, and whenever his father was out of town, he would sneak down to the harbor to see the ships.

          One day, the captain of a ship had noticed him, and upon learning that Matthew wanted to sail, taught him everything about sailing, including how to rig the sails. Matthew knew ships inside and out. Once, the captain let him sail the ship! They didn’t go far, but when they returned, he told Matthew that he was a natural. The captain also taught him how to swordfight and use a pistol.

          “Keep your eyes peeled boy.” His uncle said. “We’re about to enter the Pirate Sea.”

          “I will.” Matthew understood his uncle’s concern. Some of these pirate crews shouldn’t be messed with.

          “I know you will, but I promised your father I would protect you.” Allistor glanced at him. “It was the only way he would let you come. Otherwise, you’d be home with Francis, getting bad advice about how to court women.”

          “True.” Matthew looked out at the sea. He wondered what it would be like to live a life at sea. He’s thought about running off and becoming a privateer. “Francis may be a decent merchant, but he’s terrible with women.”

          Allistor chuckled. “You’re right about that. Sometimes I wonder why your father is friends with hi-” He was cut off by the sound of cannon fire and the ship rocking. They looked over and saw a pirate ship headed their way. “Fuck! Pirates! Man the cannons!”

          The crew immediately scrambled to their positions. Matthew started to move down towards the main mast to help loosen the sails to see if they could get away, but felt a hand on his arm. He looked back at Allistor, who shook his head, and motioned to the captain’s cabin. Matthew shook his head, and tried to pull away. Allistor waved his second in command over so he could take the helm, then drug Matthew to his quarters, and locked him in there.

          “Uncle!” Matthew yelled after him, but the cannon fire was too loud. He tried the door, and when it wouldn’t open, he started banging his fists on the door. After a couple minutes of banging, Matthew turned and went to his bed. He pulled a bundle of cloth out from underneath it, and unrolled it to reveal his sword and pistols. After attaching them to his belt, he went to the window, and climbed out of it, back up to the main deck.

          When Matthew pulled himself up to the deck, the first thing he saw was a man with snow white hair, with ruby red eyes. The man was standing on the taffrail, watching the other pirates fight his uncle’s crew. Matthew assumed this was the captain of this pirate crew, just by the way he was standing.

          He wasn’t sure how long he had been standing there, staring at the man. Something about him intrigued Matthew, and it both thrilled and scared him at the same time. A gunshot startled Matthew and caused him to look away from the man for a few seconds, and when he looked back, the man was gone.

          “Well, what do we have here?” Matthew spun around, towards the heavily accented voice. The man was still standing on the taffrail, but had moved closer. He hopped down and took a couple steps closer. “You’re a pretty little thing.” He pulled out his sword and flourished it. “I am the Awesome Gilbert Beilschimdt! Who might you be?”

          “I’m Matthew Williams.” Matthew had heard that name somewhere, but he couldn’t remember where, then it hit him. “You’re the Gilbert Beilschimdt! It’s so cool to meet you!” Matthew couldn’t believe that he was meeting one of the Beilschimdt brothers. He wondered if he could help Matthew escape his current life. “Do you think you can help me?”

          Gilbert moved closer so he was right in front of Matthew. “What can a pretty little boy like you need help with?” He circled Matthew, studying him from head to toe. “Judging by your outfit, you’re a merchant’s son, a pretty successful one at that, to afford Allistor Kirkland’s crew as escort.”

          “Please.” Matthew pleaded. “I’ve never wanted this life. My father rarely let me leave the house, but I used to sneak down the harbor, and was taught by one of the captains. I know everything about being on a ship, I can rig a sail, I can fight, and I’m a damn good marksman.” He pleadingly looked at Gilbert. “Help me escape this life. I would be willing to join your crew, but I’m completely fine with you dropping me off somewhere. Please.”

          Gilbert seemed to think for a moment. “I will help you, but you can’t just leave with us, it’ll look suspicious.” He put a hand on his chin in thought. “You said you can fight? Let me see you fight then.” With that, he lunged at Matthew.

          Matthew parried his blow in a split second. They parried each other’s blows and moved back and forth across the poopdeck. They were so evenly matched, it became some sort of dance between the two of them. They were so focused on each other, they tuned out the din of the fighting in the background.

          “Matthew!” Matthew looked towards the voice, and saw his uncle trying to fight his way towards him.

          He glanced back at Gilbert who smirked at him. Matthew subtly nodded at him, and they moved closer to the side of the ship. Matthew positioned himself so his back was to the water, and lowered his guard enough for Gilbert to have an opening. Gilbert saw it and slashed his sword against Matthew’s chest, wounding him enough to make it look like a fatal blow to others, but in reality, it wasn’t that deep. After wounding him, Gilbert pushed him off the ship into the water. Gilbert glanced over the side, and saw Matthew surface, then motioned his head towards his ship. Matthew nodded, smiling, then dove back under to swim towards Gilbert’s ship. Once Gilbert decided it was clear, he turned towards the battle, grinning when he saw that his crew had won.

          “Alright!” He yelled across the ship. That seemed to get everyone’s attention. He walked towards the crews. “We’re taking half of your goods. Any resistance, and we fire the cannons.” He stood next to his brother, and signaled for some of his men to start loading the goods on the ship. “As a message to others who dare enter our territory, we're going to kill half your men.” He nodded to his crew, and turned to return to his ship, with his brother following behind him.

[yawujin]

uggh i genuinely can't remember if you've done this already (ignore if so!) buuuut could i req with allies and axis seeing their s/o wear their clothes? i absolutely love these type of scenarios i could never get tired of em lol

heyy !! i really love these scenarios too! i think they're adorable, so thanks for the request 🤍

{ request } allies & axis | wearing their clothes ♥︎

type • established relationship , romantic relationship , cute , light hearted , scenarios , imagines , china is RICHH , england is a little intimidated(?)

❥ allies

america/alfred f. jones

he takes one look at them and smiles. who knew that his bomber jacket could look so cute─and stylish ─on his love?

a thought pops into his mind; he should get them a matching jacket! now wouldn't that look nice?

"stay right there!" he exclaims, going on to grab his phone to take a quick photo. "...and pose!" he jokes. he needed to capture how darling they looked in his clothing <3

england/arthur kirkland

they call his name, to which he just replies with a "yes?"

barely looking up from an article in the papers that has caught his attention, england sees his love wearing his very own forest green uniform blazer. he takes a double take and just stares.

he wants to say they look fantastic, elegant, stunning, distinguished. all those wonderful discriptors of how great they look in this moment.

he blinks, looking away. england is clearing his throat and swallows hard before speaking: "you look nice," he kicks himself for not speaking up. "come sit." which is subtle wording for 'oh god, come sit next to me so i can be in your presense for a little while longer'

france/francis bonnefoy

france is not one to hide his feelings. he lets them manifest however he sees fit, which usually is on his face.

his eyes go wide when he sees that his love is wearing his clothes, rushing towards them to get a better look.

france give them compliment after compliment , admiring how it looks while they're wearing it, to commenting how the colors bring out their eyes.

"you already look good in whatever you wear, so it's only natural you look good in my clothes."

canada/matthieu williams

when they joke around with the idea of them "stealing" his clothes, canada welcomes them to dig through his closet anytime to find more clothes that they think will fit and/or look good on themselves

he didn't know what he was expecting them to find, but he didn't expect them to look this adorable while wearing them

"maybe you should wear sweatshirts more often, eh?"

russia/ivan braginski

he's confused on why they would want to wear his clothes since they are so big they'll just end up not fitting them.

"if you need to be warmer, just come to me for hugs, yes?"

he's not going to admit how much he adores seeing them wear clothes that big in size 🫢 nope

china/yao wang

he takes one look at them and figures 'no, this won't do' and takes them shopping immediately

they want to tell him that they weren't implying that they wanted a new wardrobe 😭 but all the beautiful expensive clothing inside the store was so captivating

"there, see? now you don't have to wear mine"

they kind of just wanted to see if china would think they were cute or not, but new clothes works good too ദ്ദി´▽`)

❥ axis

n. italy/feliciano vargas

"ve...since when do you look so stylish?" italy flirts with them

he thinks they look really cute in his clothes, although they are only slightly bigger on them

nevertheless, he invites them to borrow any of his clothes from his closet anytime <3

germany/ludwig beilschmidt

he's kind of just staring in awe. he hadn't realized that his clothes could look that big on somebody else.

in typical germany fashion, he asks for them to fold his clothing neatly after they are done wearing them

he steps away for a while with the image of them in his clothes stuck in his head. he can feel his own heartbeat speed up. verdammt. he thinks to himself. that was so cute. they're so cute...

japan/kiku honda

similar to china, japan sees this act as a subtle hint that his love wants to buy clothing just like his

"if you wanted to match shirts with me , you could have just asked..."

he thinks about it a second more and a visible flush of pale red appears on his face. japan begins to blush at the thought of you two wearing matching clothes/pyjamas 🫣

prussia/gilbert beilschmidt

doesn't think much of it other than the fact that of course they would want to wear his clothes...they're awesome, he's awesome

"are they comfy?"

he asks half jokingly. when they say yes, his smile widens and he tells them that they're welcome to wear his clothes all they want. maybe his awesomeness will rub off on them too

s. italy/lovino vargas

he wants to tell them that they look funny, dorky, and just outright ridiculous while wearing his clothes

oh, but he can't...he thinks that them wearing his own clothes is actually pretty adorable

"yeah, you're cute. now give them back." he huffs

that image of them will now replay in his head for the rest of the week day

[stonesilhouette]

Feline Fiasco

Hetalia x Reader

This is written for a female reader but there isn't really anything specific that would suggest that besides a few references. If you want to read, I'm not going to stop you.

Also (Y/n) is completely uninterested in the countries for the majority of this, all she's interested in is the cats. This is way fluffier than anything else I've posted, which is two things, and this part is relatively America-centric because (Y/n) works for him. This is also way less quality work than those two posts but idk deal with it?

There is more to this but it's unfinished and I'll probably never post it. My friend also helped with the cat names so if you don't like them... uh assume that they chose them. One last note, I thought it would be funny to write the accents so you also have to deal with that.

As one of the many secretaries working in the White House, it was actually quite a surprise to you that you ended up as the main secretary to the human personification of the U.S.A.

Because of this, you had become quite close to Mr. F. Jones and more importantly: his cat.

You couldn't help but coo at the adorable and floofy feline. Sure, you should probably finish filing those papers, but national security can wait a few more minutes. Besides you couldn't resist the allure of the purr. It would be an understatement to say, when you learned that the other personifications also had furry friends of their own, you were excited.

America didn't want you interacting with the other countries, especially not Russia. But you honestly didn't care and you weren't the recording secretary for those meetings, so it's not like you were in attendance anyways. That somehow didn't stop you from having to tag along and meeting more nation cats; of which you weren't sure why they had brought them along in the first place. It's not like you were complaining.

Ball of fur after ball of fur. No cat went un-petted. Except for Germany's cat; he had evaded you time and time again. But no longer! For today was the last day and you were going to pet that cat if it was the last thing you did.

There it was. It's sleek black fur, the ribbon in Germany's signature colors around its neck, and that always alert look on its face. He would evade you no more. You crouched down in your very inflexible pencil skirt and prepared to pounce.

"Vhat are jou doing?" A voice thick with a German accent called out, startling you and the cat who decided to bound back towards him and into his arms.

"Uhhhh." You blanked.

"You're America's secretary right? Vat vere jou trying to do to my cat?" He questioned, eyes narrowing with suspicion.

You gulped and tried to explain your actions in a way that didn't sound absolutely ridiculous.

"I-uh. I wanted to pet your cat and… he kept evading me and I thought if I snuck up on him that I could pet him." You looked away and pitifully whispered, "Sorry."

"If jou vanted to pet him, all you had to do was ask."

"Really!?" Your eyes lit up and you looked up at the German with pure and unbridled excitement. He coughed and looked away with a slight blush resting on his cheeks.

"Of course." He held the cat out. You, with no hesitation whatsoever, immediately started to adore and love the cat, even shifting it from Germany's arms to your own.

As you continued to pet the cat, who despite his earlier refusal, seemed quite happy, you asked Germany a question. "My name's (Y/n). What's yours if you're willing to share? No pressure though."

His eyes widened a bit before he shook it off and gave you an answer. "Ludwig Beilschmidt." He responded, studying his cat. "Germouser seems to like jou."

You could barely stifle a laugh at the name he had given to the black cat. He sensed your amusement and gave an explanation.

"Feli- Italy named him. I vas going to name him Johann or something similar. Italy was zoroughly horrified by my suggestions and vould not rest until I vent vith his."

You smiled at the Italian's antics and shook your head with amusement. "Germouser is a fine name for an absolutely wonderful cat."

Germany seemed to get flustered again as he watched you coo at his cat, completely ignoring his presence. He would have just left him with you, but the meeting was starting soon and he didn't want to be late. Luckily for him, America decided to pop around the corner, demanding your attention. So you were forced to give up the precious kitty cat and return with Mr. Jones.

Alfred was annoyed. Not at you but at everyone else. Why did they have any right to be around you? You were an American citizen. His citizen. Sure, all you were really interested in was their cats. But what if you thought that they and their cats were so cool that you left him and went to live in a different country instead? He couldn't let that happen.

"So, (Y/n), dude, broette." He said on the way to the meeting room. "Here's the deal."

You gave him a look and raised an eyebrow.

"I need someone to watch Hero for me and my sitter flaked so you're gonna be watching him." He fingered-gunned at you and stars seemed to shine in the air around him. This, of course, was nothing new to you. It wasn’t like you would have rather been attending the meeting anyways.

So you stayed in a different unoccupied meeting room with a lovely, furry friend. It wasn't until he started hissing at a corner that you were in trouble.

"Hero, what's wrong?" You asked, concerned at the agitated cat. His tail bristled up and his ears flattened down as he took a defensive position. Out of nowhere another fluffy cat waltzed in from the very corner that Hero had been hissing at. It was Boris, a cat that belonged to Russia.

You hadn't actually gotten to pet him yet because to be honest, you were also scared of Russia. But… He wasn't around… and his cat was. And his cat was purring.

That was about all the reasoning that you needed to brush past Hero and scoop Boris up into your arms. The former started yowling for your attention and followed you as you went to sit down with the Russian cat.

You laid down on the plush carpeted floor and lifted the cat that you were holding up above you. Boris’ fluffy body was placed onto your chest and he immediately started purring louder once he got comfortable. He nuzzled his face into your neck, much to the annoyance of the American cat. Hero yowled at you and pawed at Boris, desperately trying to get him off.

Boris only gave him a smug look in return and kneaded into you, further solidifying his spot. Hero decided that it wasn’t worth the fight and that he was going to get his owner to remove the Russian cat and put him back into his mother’s lap: aka you.

The surprisingly smart and agile cat leapt around the room and pushed down the door handle, slipping out through the crack. You didn’t notice this as you were currently immersed in the bliss of a cat sitting on you and letting you pet it.

Eventually the purring lulled you into a peaceful and warm slumber, the two of you deciding to take a cat nap.

It would be Russia who found you first. Ivan realized that his cat had gone missing and he honestly didn’t care enough about the meeting to stay. It's not like anyone would try to stop him.

So as Hero bounded down the halls towards the meeting room, Mr. Ivan Braginsky came from the other direction; his sense of where his cat was at any one moment was completely uncanny.

The Russian gradually opened the wooden door and it quietly opened without any resistance. He turned his head towards where he heard purring and was met with a surprising sight. It was America’s secretary, with his cat, lying, with his cat.

You were breathing softly and the movements of your chest moving up and down also moved Boris. Ivan couldn’t help but faintly smile at the sight. Said cat opened a singular eye to acknowledge the new presence in the room. He flicked his tail and settled back into his spot. Not wanting to bother you or the cat, Ivan pulled out a chair and sat down. 

He pulled out some paperwork, seemingly from nowhere, and began to work on it. The sounds of your quiet breathing, combined with the light purr from Boris, made for a calming work environment. 

As the three of you remained in peaceful bliss, another kitty cat was running around the corner on the never ending search for food. Itabby trotted up and down the corridors looking for an open door that might lead to some food that didn’t come from England. Her golden fur glimmered as the sun shined through the many windows in the building. She looked over at a door that had opened slightly and was too blinded by the thought of food to notice the scarily familiar scent coming from the room.

Itabby scampered over to the door but screeched and meowed as she was sent flying by an American blonde and his equally irritated cat. She tentatively peered around the door at the scene forming.

“HEY!” Alfred yelled, startling both you and the cat. You shot up straight, Boris falling into your lap. “What are you doing with her?!” He yelled again, getting his face up into Ivan’s. The other man gave him an unamused look and stood up, towering over him. Alfred, despite this, did not back down and continued to stare angrily at him.

“Go away.” The white-haired male said, his accent heavy as he crossed his arms. “You have startled them with your unnecessary noise. You are just like the rest of your country.”

The air tensed and became heavier as the seconds went on. They began to size each other up as Hero, ironically, “heroically” walked proudly over to you and with his front paws, pushed Boris off of your lap. He quickly took his place and started purring. Boris’ fur began to puff up as he hunched down and prepared to pounce. His back legs flexed and he made the jump, sending both him and Hero flying towards their fighting owners, who were remarkably somehow not in a physical fight. Yet.

You very quickly realized that you did not want to be in the middle of  two superpowers fighting and quietly took your leave. (E/c) eyes met feline amber ones and you swept up the cat and made your escape, leaving behind the feuding men and cats.

Itabby snuggled into your arms as you finally slowed down to catch your breath. Her round tail whooshed back and forth as you tiredly walked through the long hallway. The two of you eventually ended up in the rose gardens of the meeting building. The area was well taken care of and beautiful if you did say so yourself. The meeting was taking place in England and Mr. Jones had told you about how the Brit enjoyed gardening, so it made sense as to why it was here.

Speaking of the British, you spotted a fluffy feline shape from the corner of your eye. It was deeper into the gardens and among the trees. Itabby finally decided that it was time to go and return to her owner. She gracefully leaped out of your arms and landed on all fours and trotted off to beg Italy for some pasta. You instead continued your approach to the cat, which at this point, you could tell was a Scottish Fold.

The left side of his face was brown and so was his tail. Alike to his owner, he seemed to have what you assumed were some kind of eyebrows and when he opened his eyes to look at you, his olive eyes stared into yours. He flicked his tail and layed back down onto the wall that he was laying on. His collar jingled as he moved and you quietly moved up to him. On the gold circle attached to the same olive color collar, was a name.

‘Scone’ You thought. ‘Oh my god. This is the most English cat name I have ever seen.’

You almost started laughing but the smoldering glare the cat gave you made you think otherwise. The stone wall was surprisingly cold for the summer sun and as you sat down, you took a look at Scone. He seemed to still be quite grumpy, but he knew you from earlier in the week, so he was not alarmed. You lifted up and moved your left arm forward to start petting him.

Scone was soft and clearly well-taken care of. His fur was clean and had no knots or dirt insight, despite laying around a garden for half a day. You continued your actions and the both of you started to fall back into slumber. Your hand hovered on the back of the feline and your head slumped alongside your body.

It was peaceful. With birds chirping and the wind lightly blowing. There was a river babbling somewhere in the background and it made for a serene scene. The only reason he had let you pet him was because you had fed him earlier in the week. He didn’t have his collar at that point so this was the first time you had gotten his name. Your eyes closed as you recalled the event from a couple of days prior.

The day after the plane landed you were on the hunt for felines. Armed with some cat food, a retractable mouse-on-a-stick and hope, you made your way around the building England had set aside for housing the rampant countries, and byproduct, their cats. France’s cat, Monsieur, was an absolute attention wh-. He really liked attention, and would rub himself against your leg anytime the two of you crossed paths. It’s not like France, or Francis, was much better.

It’s not like you minded petting him. He was adorable after all. The cat, not Francis. But you had wanted to meet as many other cats as you could and so you had to stop by Francis’ room multiple times to drop off Monsieur.

“Je suis désolé.” He said, taking Monsieur out of your arms. “He keeps getting out. But I guess he knows when there’s a lovely lady around.”

You ignored his attempts at flirting and instead scratched Monsieur’s chin one last time before leaving. He purred at you and while you felt bad about leaving him, you were on a mission! Besides, you had a certain Japanese cat to track down. Monsieur meowed at you as you walked down the hallway and if you didn’t know better you’d say so did Francis.

Either way, nothing was going to stop you from petting Tama, Japan’s cat. He was an adorable little black and white feline with the cutest little bob for a tail. You had actually spotted him earlier and was about to go up to him before Monsieur literally jumped into your arms, demanding attention. Of course you weren’t going to say no so Tama quickly left your sight as you went to return Monsieur. 

Wait, isn't Monsieur just sir in French? Oh well there was no time to think about questionable cat names, this building was full of them.

Monsieur wasn’t the only attention whore of a cat. Prussia’s cat, Purrussia, wasn’t much better. He would follow you down hallways and meow with his scratchy meow at you while Austria’s cat, Allegro, whined behind him. He literally tried to jump up at you a few times.

Of course both of them were interrupted when Hero ran straight at you and tackled you like a professional linebacker. You had thought that it was mostly fluff, but no, apparently Hero could pack a punch. He knocked the wind out of you as you fell backwards onto the tiled floor. The cat sat proudly on you and looked around like he was waiting for something or someone. Whoever he was waiting for, however, wouldn’t show up fast enough to see Purrussia return the favor and tackle Hero off of you, much to Allegro’s horror. 

The white cat had a German ribbon as well but it looked like it was fraying at the edges. The reason you were bringing this up was because Hero was currently using one of the edges to try to choke Purrussia and Allegro was using the other to try to pull Purrussia away from Hero. Neither was really working and all it was really doing was making Purrussia more and more agitated.

“PURRUSSIA!!!” A shrill voice yelled out from down the hallway.

The cats stopped their roughhousing to see two of the countries barrelling down towards them. Well Prussia was. Austria was slowly walking over, looking more inconvenienced than anything else.

“Purrussia! Purrussia!” Prussia reiterated, pulling his cat up by its arms. “Did jou vin?!”

Everyone but the two Prussians stared in disbelief at his statement. The albino feline furiously nodded his head and if he could have talked you would have imagined that he would have been saying, ‘I’m awesome!’

Hero angrily meowed down below, as if to oppose Purrussia’s non-verbal statement. Allegro just haughtily licked his paw and stuck his nose up as if to pretend that he was disgusted with their fighting as if he hadn’t just been a part of it. Austria picked up his in-denial cat and you picked up Hero who calmed down as soon as you did. 

“Sorry about him.” You said, brushing his unruly fur down with your hand. “He gets a little competitive.”

“Ja. It’s fine.” Austria said, petting his own cat. “Purrussia is not much better.”

“HEY!” Prussia yelled. “My awesome Purrussia is doing his best! And besides, at least he actually does something!”

“Jour cat picked a fight vith a vall (wall) Gilbert.” Austria sassed.

“Vell jour cat’s piano playing is trash!”

Austria gave a gasp of horror before inching closer to the Prussian.

“Jou take zat back, RIGHT NOW!”

Prussia just laughed, still letting Purrussia’s back paws dangle as he held him like one would a toddler. He got in close to the Austrian’s face, smiling deviously at him.

“Nein.”

He suddenly, while still holding Purrussia, took off, running away from Austria. He wasn’t far behind though and you could hear the man yelling in German all the way down the far corridor.

“Well Hero.” You said, looking down at the cat who had made himself very comfortable. “That was weird.”

He just snuggled closer to you and you sighed. You scratched him once more before heading down the opposite hallway. The destination was clear, before you could continue your cat quest, you’d have to get this one safely back to its owner.

You suddenly snapped back to reality, still sitting on the wall. The sun was now high in the sky and the spot underneath you was no longer cold. You were especially warm as you now had a Scottish Fold sitting comfortably upon your lap. Quietly cooing at the cat, you looked to see if there was any way to escape your furry prison. The most important rule of cats: once a cat sits on you, you’re not moving until they do.

You sighed, legs uncomfortably stiff. Scone was far more content and his bushy tail occasionally brushed against your leg. It was incredibly cute but it didn’t make your back stop hurting from being hunched over for the last half hour.

Voices came from farther within the garden. There were two people currently engaged in a soft conversation. You caught bits and pieces of it; there was a man with a British accent and a man with what you thought was American until you heard him say ‘aboot.’ You couldn’t help but snicker at your own observation, disturbing Scone in the process.

He scornfully meowed at you and you offered pets in an apology. Around the corner turned Scone’s owner and a man who looked incredibly similar to America. They both turned to look at you when the Scottish Fold you were fondling stretched out to impossible lengths and complained like a cat while he did it. England looked down at your lap to see his cat very happily cushioned on your thighs. The man next to him was also holding a cat who again looked very similar to America’s.

They were clearly different though. This man’s hair was more auburn and his eyes were a shade of impossible purple. There was also more of a wave to it whereas America’s hair was as straight as hair comes. Familiarity lit up in your eyes, not for the man however.

“Maple!” You exclaimed, wanting to go to the cat but also not willing to disturb the one on you. “How have you been?”

The men stared at you, wondering if you were talking to them or the cat. Of course Maple himself answered this as he jumped out of his owner’s arms and darted over to you. He gracefully climbed up the small wall and placed himself down by you. Scone was on your lap and he was nicer than Hero so as to not push him off. You moved one of your arms to pet Maple and kept the other on Scone. They were so cute you felt like you were going to explode.

“Oh.” A quiet voice spoke out. It came from the man behind England. “You’re Alfred’s secretary right?”

You smiled and nodded at the man. “And I assume that means you’re Canada, right?”

He looked a tad taken aback before nodding himself. “Yeah…” He trailed off and England instead picked up the conversation.

“I thought you were supposed to be watching his furrball cat, Hero.” He walked over and leaned against the wall.

“I was. But then he and Boris got into a catfight… and then America and Russia got into a catfight.”

Canada laughed in the background but quickly covered it up. England stared at Scone, looking to see if there was anyway to get him off of you without being scratched himself. He had enough injuries, that should have scarred had he not been a country, from the cat. He shivered a bit, though also began to pet the feline, scratching his under the chin.

“That sounds like those two.”

You hummed in agreement, continuing your affections. Canada also came over to pet his own cat who ironically did smell like maple syrup. 

“Can I make you the villain of this story?” You asked England, gesturing to Scone. “I do actually have somewhere I need to be.”

“Oh I suppose I can assume that role.” He mused, carefully picking up his cat. He was not happy to be moved but England just shushed him.

Canada also picked up his cat who was slightly nicer about the whole thing. He fidgeted with Maple’s ear as he held him.

“I’m Matthew.” He said, carefully shifting Maple so he could put one arm out to shake your hand.

You finished the formal greeting. “I’m (Y/n).”

The other blonde butted in from the background. “I’m Arthur, love.”

“It’s very nice to formally meet both of you. Seeing you from across a meeting room doesn’t really count.” You smiled and gave a small pat to each of the feline’s heads. “Well I wasn’t kidding about needing to get somewhere. I really didn’t mean to get stopped as long as I did.” 

You playfully glared at the Scottish Fold sitting comfortably in his owner's arms. He promptly ignored you, instead turning around cutely. England apologized but you told him it was fine. You were at least 50% sure that Mr. Jones was probably still fighting with Russia. Those two really were like angry cats. You waved the two men off and went on your way to find out the answer to that question.

Instead of coming across two feuding superpowers, you came across two of the Asian nations’ cats. You had already met them both but this was the first time you were seeing them together. Tama was sitting up high on a shelf while China’s cat, Meowzedong, was angrily meowing at him from down below. Everytime he tried to climb up, Tama would use a paw and swipe a book or other object down at him.

You flinched as a very breakable, very expensive-looking, vase crashed down. It was this movement that alerted the two cats to your presence and Meowzedong wasted no time at all to come over to you and complain. Now you couldn’t exactly speak cat but you got the jist.

Bending down, you carefully picked up the cat. Meowzedong always had a weird clump of fur that looked almost like a ponytail that, no matter how much China cut it, always grew back. He yowled at you and pointed a furry paw in Tama’s direction. The other cat had already loafed on top of the high shelf and you looked at him, back at Meowzedong, back at Tama, and then back at Meowzedong again.

“I don’t know how tall you think I am but I’m not that tall.”

Meowzedong just narrowed his eyes and meowed at you again. You sighed, looking back at Tama. If he had a long enough tail to flick it at you he would’ve. Sensing the futility of his quest, Meowzedong instead spread himself out in your arms and if you didn’t know better you would have said that he was mocking Tama. And if you really didn’t know better you’d say that it was working and that the bobtail was getting more irritated by the second. The personifications might have had to act cordial but their cats had no such qualms.

Finally, Tama de-loafed himself and gracefully hopped down a few other layers before reaching the bottom. He gracefully walked over to you and sat on your foot… Well shoot. What were you supposed to do now?

So here you were, from one cat prison to the next. Standing in the middle of some random, out-of-the-way hallway because the nations’ cats were all attention-hogging, though very adorable, brats.

You didn’t know how much time had actually passed. There was no clock in the hallway, you didn’t wear a watch, and both of your hands were occupied so you couldn’t check your phone. As cute as they were, your legs felt like they were about to collapse in on themselves. You couldn’t even shift how you were standing because Tama had taken it upon himself to lay across both of your shoes. Your arms also felt like they were going to fall off at any second. Meowzedong wasn’t a particularly heavy cat but try holding anything over five pounds for longer than five minutes.

You were desperately hoping that either they would finally get bored and leave or someone would come to save you. Wow you guessed you really did need a “Hero” right about now… Dammit you thought that referencing needing a hero in your head would magically summon America or his equally hotheaded cat.

“Tama. Meowzedong.” You murmured. “Can you please get off?” You hoped to whatever god or gods were out there that they didn’t hear the desperation in your voice. Never show weakness to a cat.

The two cats made eye contact with each other for a moment and seemed to come to an agreement. Meowzedong stretched his body out before jumping onto the ground. Tama did the same but instead greeted Meowzedong when he landed.

It wouldn’t be an exaggeration if you said that you collapsed onto the wooden floor below. You quickly got up however as you didn’t want them to see it as another chance to sit on you. At least not right now. You pulled out your phone to see all of the messages and calls you missed. You had put it on silent while watching Hero and forgot to turn it back to vibrate.

‘Oh my god Mr. Jones called me twenty-three times.’ You thought, frantic. ‘I’m gonna be in so much trouble!’

You raced down the hallway, startling a group of micronations as you went. There was no time to apologize! You had to keep your job! If not for you then for the cats!

Not even thinking to knock you burst open the door where America was staying, side note why wasn’t it locked? And were greeted with the sight of!... Mr. Jones… crying? His cat looked pretty dejected too and was currently hanging himself off the side of the bed like a rug.

“Sir?” His head shot up to look at you.

He quickly snapped his head back away, mushing at his face in an attempt to try to make it seem like he wasn’t crying.

“(Y-Y/n)” He stuttered for a second, before immediately going back to the hero persona. “Where’ve you been!?”

“Are you okay?” You ignore him, instead asking your own question.

You titiled your body to look at what he was looking at… Was that a framed picture of you?!

It didn’t matter because he was very quickly all in your face again. You could see what seemed to be a rapidly healing black eye and a tooth that hadn’t fully regrown in yet as he smiled at you. Just how long was he fighting with Russia for?

You sat him down on his bed, considering if you should even bother getting a medkit for him. Either way you ended up spending the rest of the day with him, watching movies and sitting what you considered a good ways away from each other on the plush couch. He apparently had a nicer room in all of England’s properties from when he used to live there during parts of the year.

Hero filled the gap in-between you of which America was mildly annoyed about. He kept trying to get you to use ‘Alfred’ but you insisted that it was unprofessional. He’d close the gap one day.

[sparks-and-wires]

Reactions To A Gentle Touch - 2P Hetalia

They lean into gentle touch without hesitation, it just feels natural to them. It's comforting and cute to see them immediately melt. These people aren't always used to being touched period, so a light touch is sure to get them swooning or brought to tears. (Reads as touch starved)

Klaus, Oliver, Allen, Flavio, Anastasia

It takes them by surprise, as they aren't used to be treated gently at all. Hardship seems to make a lot of people flinch, and it takes a while before they really get comfortable enough to accept affection. You may get shoved away the first time solely based on instinct. You'd have to be close to them for them to even consider getting used to it.

Luciano, Xiao, Kuro

Doesn't state any interest in being touched at all. Doesn't really have much of a reaction at first, then they press a hand over yours to their face and sigh. If you aren't close to them, they'd give you a death glare and smack your hand away. It's safe to say they aren't against being touched so long as it's in good faith.

James, Viktor, Andres

"Stop." They pry your hands from their body. They don't want to be treated like glass, it feels humiliating to them. They have pride in being a powerful nation, so just stop looking like a kicked puppy over it. They have to be worn down over a long time to accept anything near soft affections.

Katya, François

Will accept it solely because they like being touched period. Even if it's an innocent touch like a hand pressed to their face, they'll take it. It's nice to them. Every time you keep coming back you're always so nice and they have to overthink about what that means. (Also reads as touch starved, but in a different way)

Allen, Luther, Flavio

[anodetoswag]

Ꮒꫀtᥲᥣเᥲ ⲊℳᎪU

⨍tׁׅ: 𓍯APH China / Yao Wang 𓍯APH Greece / Heracles Karpusi 𓍯 APH France / Francis Bonnefoy

liked by zheg8st2knight, vashzwingli and 2,051 others

sincerelyyn locked in for the finals 💪

tagged nyaaowang

view all 58 comments

⤿ gangham_gansta mooncake 😋

⤿ nyaaowang of course your fatass would only see the food

⤿ gangham_gangsta 🤕

⤿ sincerelyyn don't be rude

liked by habibiiiii, tomatino<3 and 1,051 others

sincerelyyn his ability to fall asleep anywhere smh 🙄

tagged greasy.cats

view all 78 comments

⤿ greasy.cats sleeping is the best medicine

⤿ bo'oh'o'wa'er that's NOT how it goes

⤿  McMuri'ca 🗣️We're gammar Nazi-ing with this one

⤿ LudwigBeilschmidt *grammar

⤿ McMuri'ca 💀

liked by wafflecore, hasta_la_pasta and 8,051 others

francisbonnefoy La vie en rose

tagged sincerelyyn

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⤿ bo'oh'o'wa'er I hope the glasses break

⤿ francisbonnefoy i'm in your walls.

⤿ sincerelyyn in more ways than one

⤿ Maple-esque missing you guys

⤿ kuma-jiro who?

Pictures are from Pinterest. Characters belong to Himaruya. Don't copy or repost without permission.

dividers by @cafekitsune

[idkwhatimdoinok]

Lol have a Hetalia and Ride the Cyclone AU stuff

Idk what the name should be. HetaRTC? HetaCyclone?

[crimson-kisses]

Yandere Allies and Axis with a nymph darling that doesn't wanna be with them. Because anyone that the Gods have been with that isn't a God as well has ended in tragedy, something the darling is trying their absolute best to avoid so they don't meet an early demise. So as soon as the darling has found out that they are the Apple to not only one but multiple gods eyes, they ghosted all them. It was like they never existed. However the darling's sisters does know where she's hiding...........

Do what you will with this. ( Gods AU )

Ah yes, my long forgotten abandoned au ;-; I tried to keep this rather simple and short! I like the tragic undertones this ask has 🐝✨

Warning: contains usual yandere themes, toxic relationships and violence.

Fleeting wings

The evidence of it all remained etched on the walls, arts hidden in cave paintings and harsh whispered tales in the dark recounting and retelling the warnings.

The beings were aware of the tragic history that had occurred and unfolded before them, most carried the resilience of their broken ancestors, determined to survive against all odds.

Your mother had been one of them, a being born from the marrows of nature itself, she reminded you of the unfortunate women who gripped the hearts of the deities’ only to end up in a tragedy that wrote the end of them.

And so, you had always threaded carefully when it came to love- the most powerful, corrupted thing which once shattered entire worlds.

It was a solemn warning, when an old cherry tree, rooted atop the ancient mountains had beckoned you closer with it’s thorny branches, entangling in your dress. Hundreds of whispers echoed in your mind as it told you of the events that were bound to repeat if the deities’ so willed if they didn’t get their hands on their beloved sooner.

Their beloved being a lovely maiden, born from the very essence of untamed nature.

That maiden was you, a nymph.

After realizing the horrifying fate that could befall after their corrupted sense of love poisoned their divinity, the only thing that could help you or even delay the horrifying outcome was for you to conceal yourself into the depth of the fragile earth.

Following the long faded away paths of your ancestors, deep down into the abyssal caverns, you had found solace and refuge.

Months had passed, when not even the sunlight had the privilege of kissing your skin with its warm rays, and the wind had to squeeze in through the cracks as you lay in a slumber with the nature curling itself around you, moss covering your entirety and roots cradling your body as a womb of a woman protecting a child.

Unbeknownst to you, the world shifted and groaned, while the winds howled relentlessly and clouds descended, unleashing a torrent of icy hailstones upon the land.

On what appeared to be a tranquil morning, the deities withdrew their feeble mercy and fragile loyalty.

A gentle curl of foam unfurled, its seams unraveling, and soon it overflowed, submerging the islands under its weight.

Inhabitants desperately sought higher ground, mothers cradling their sobbing infants, sons and daughters salvaging remnants of their homes, and fathers striving to protect and guide their loved ones to safety, though their efforts seemed futile.

Sooner or later, things turned sour.

A foreboding realization gripped the hearts of some, understanding that this calamity would escalate to an unimaginable extent. The echoes of their ancestors' experiences were about to resurface, and no one possessed the strength to appease the ferocity of the deities' unleashed wrath. The very structure of the worlds trembled under the weight of their fury, threatening to shatter the boundaries that held everything together.

With a mere curl of their fingers, the sisters, torn from their deeply rooted abodes, were forcefully brought before the imposing throne of the deities. None dared to defy their commands, for chaos ravaged the worlds, teetering on the brink of unleashing something tremendous and catastrophic.

"Speak, for we demand your answers,"

A deep grumble reverberates through the chamber, while gentle droplets of dew caress the roots of the sisters, nurturing their well-being. The deity presiding over the fourteen oceans, the overseer of every movement of the water, fixes them with a stern gaze, awaiting their response.

"We shall not forsake our inherent nature, our lineage, or the vows we have made. Do as you will to punish us, but we implore you, if your divinity is true, grant us mercy," the sisters speak with unwavering determination, remaining steadfast in their convictions.

A heavy silence descends upon the room, mirroring the intense tension and seething wrath that soak through the atmosphere. The skies above darken, as if reflecting the turmoil reaching its breaking point.

A mirror materializes, its surface transforming into a silver portal that shimmers with an ethereal glow. As the portal opens, writhing green flames dance and flicker within, creating a mesmerizing spiral that beckons with an otherworldly allure.

"We shall bestow mercy!" a smooth voice exclaims, resonating with an uncanny clarity.

Chaotic visions envelop the room, casting a hazy, disorienting hue that distorts reality. Horrifying and incomprehensible images swirl around the sisters, accompanied by series of unsettling sounds.

The deity, his figure is surrounded by the flickering green flames, same glow as his eyes, the flames unleash a thunderous roar filled with hunger and echoes the agonized screams of the unfortunate. The atmosphere becomes suffused with terror and despair.

But of course, he wasn’t the only visitor.

Suddenly, amidst the shadows shrouding the room, another dreadful figure emerges, emanating an oppressive presence that drains the very essence of the sisters.

Overwhelmed by the malevolent presences, the sisters stagger, their bodies weakened, as if being crushed beneath an invisible force. They feel trapped, as if buried deep within the earth itself.

The terrifying figure wears skeletal armor that glistens ominously in the sunlight, exuding an aura of darkness and ink-like malevolence. Burning red eyes and searing green eyes fix upon the sisters, both feigning interest while concealing a deep-seated disdain.

"Death is often the pathway towards mercy," the other figure declares, his voice laced with a chilling resonance.

"And even after that, mercy is not always guaranteed in my domain".

The sisters huddle closer together, their trembling bodies consumed by an overwhelming fear that courses through their veins.

A brief moment passes, air heavy with anticipation.

The figure of the deity of Wisdom and Wealth rises from his throne, moving with a measured calmness toward the center of the room, standing before the sisters.

He offers a gentle smile, though it fails to reach his vacant eyes. Slowly, he begins to speak in a voice dripping with honeyed richness.

"Our mercy shall be our forgiveness", he utters, each word laced with authority and concealed threat.

"Speak, unless you wish to endure eternal suffering. Your loyalty is admirable but misguided in the eyes of us deities. Do not test our patience, for our wrath knows no bounds."

No other deity stirs or makes any demands. The room is enveloped in an eerie stillness, as if time itself has come to a stop, casting a frozen stupor over the surroundings.

Silence reigns supreme, leaving everyone in a suspended state of uncertainty.

The sisters gasp for breath, their chests heaving with fear. Is this their end?

Will they suffer mercilessly and face a fate devoid of peace, even after death?

Uncertainty grips their hearts, as they ponder the grim fate that looms before them.

The silence is soon broken, when the king of the deities gives off an amused smile, sky eyes glinting with a newfound excitement.

𖣊𖡛𖣥𖡗𑗋𖣙𖥟𖢅𖢌𖥠

You supposed the elderly forces had exerted all they could, using their waning strength to shield and protect you, but their ancient power could no longer unleash its full potential.

Within the depths of your enclosed casket, a steady flow of essence awakens you from your deep slumber. Weakened vines and branches still try to hold you protectively, cradling your form.

A towering figure, adorned in gleaming metallic armor and wielding mighty weapons, enters the cavern. With a single swipe of his resplendent sword, he shatters the feeble attempts of the cavern to shield you.

The deity of War and Vengeance.

His helmet conceals most of his visage, revealing only a pair of glowing violet eyes fixed upon your captivating figure. Swiftly, the deity tears away the remaining vines and branches, careful not to cause you harm.

You knew deep down that this moment was inevitable. The ancient times did not truly capture the full extent of reality. Those days were long gone, as the world order had changed since those bygone eras.

It was different now. Their attention, once scattered among their own darlings and the allure of their beautiful women, was solely focused on you. It wouldn't have taken much longer for them to claim their beloved treasure. The powers that had thrived in ancient times could not withstand their might, or perhaps they chose not to.

Above you, the air opened up like a celestial maw, its glimmering teeth of stars welcoming you to your tragic fate.

[natsuki-bakery]

FemMapleIce !

"𝐇𝐞𝐫 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐜𝐲 𝐞𝐱𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐫, 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐬𝐲𝐫𝐮𝐩 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐥."

:¨ ·.· ¨:⠀@. your username here

⠀ `· . name ﹒ ageꜝ ✚ ₊⠀txt + txt + txt 𐙚ྀ

[will-pilled]

[lavrach]

They are such good friends