#russia x prussia

[maansteenblauw]

Happy Pride Month everyone🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️

[kamizuya]

Hetalia Doodles for a crack fanfic "Cleaning Mr. Prussia - Russia Route".

Fanfic Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/58632388

[kazmiya]

Aaaaaaaaaahhhhhh!!!

Hetalia Fantasia is the cutest thing I’ve seen in a while.

All hail the Black and White Knight of the Dark Night!!!!! All hail! All hail!

God, how can he be soooo chaotic and adorable at the same time?!?!?

Made my heart went all doki~ doki~

I mean lookit him! Lookit this baby of an angel-ish devil! His occupation in my heart is illegal!

I couldn’t help but giggle like a maniac when they mentioned “…an incident where a Russian player made him kneel and cry”.

I need more context on this pwease, pwease~ 🥹 or maybe I should write one myself 🥴 juicy!

Other notable scenes: France’s first appearance (I like to imagine him standing naked on top of tower, such a public nuisance!), the duel b/t England and America, the way America sulks after realizing he failed to show-off and impress England, Italy walking off to chase girls and befriend weird people (classic), Prussia ousting himself by calling Germany “West”!

This drama CD story is just perfect the way I imagine it should be! Well done~ Well done! 👏

[seselblue]

Some PruRU stuff...

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Sugestivo/Suggestive

[desuke13]

Teaser for The Class System. New content of #LNSurvive !

Read prolog chapters here https://archiveofourown.org/.../55361791/chapters/140457472

[rootin-tootin-roleplayer]

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

Hello! I'm Joanna, a nineteen year old roleplayer who's been roleplaying for about nine years now! I'm literate to advanced literate, I use third person past tense in my roleplays, and I'm looking for some fandom doubles! Oc x Canon is my main forte so I'd be appreciative for some new partners in roleplay, I can roleplay here on Tumblr and over on Discord!

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

The fandoms I'm looking to roleplay in are -

1. Hetalia ; I'm looking for someone who could play Russia, Prussia or America for me! I do also want to do a historical theme with my roleplays for Hetalia, I'd also love to roleplay the ship Prussia x Russia and Germany x Russia! I'd love to play Prussia or Germany!

2. RDR2 ; I'm looking for someone who could play Sean, John, Charles or Hosea for me!

3. MLP ; I'm looking for someone to play Applejack, Twilight, Sombra, Discord, Big Mac or Luna for me! I'd love to do an mlp infection AU since I've had my own AU in the back burner!

4. MW2/3 ; I'm looking for someone to play Soap, Price, Rudy, Graves or Makarov for me!

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

This post is very short ik but that's what I'm most looking forward to roleplaying rn! And I DOUBLE up I really do haha- Please feel free to send me a message, shoot me an ask or comment! I'm usually up at dumb asf times lmaooo- Again thank you for reading!

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

[yawujin]

Hii, do you think you could do smut headcannons for russia, prussia, America, and japan maybe? Please :3

you asked and now you shall receive ‧₊˚  ⋅ ☆

request | nsfw headcanons for russia , prussia , america & japan

type | nsfw , smut , head canon format

russia/ivan braginsky ♡

size kink c'mon we all know this

a sub leaning switch, but amazing at being a dom

likes to tease, hates being teased. he also prefers when his partner is straightforward and almost aggressive in communicating with what they want from him

is into temperature play, specifically with ice or cold water.

isn't the type to scream or moan loud, but more of the type to curse under his breath a lot, or grunt lowly.

prussia/gilbert beilschmidt ♡

the type to have music playing while fucking someone but it's actually really nice music so it's all good

he usually is the top with every partner he has, but will occasionally bottom for the other person if he feels like he can be vulnerable with them

likes to close his eyes and be in the moment (also bc he gets to rest his sensitive eyes)

likes to pretend he's annoyed that his partner is teasing him while he's trying to work/write in his journal...but he actually loves it.

the guy absolutely loves cockwarming, especially if his partner kinda just starts to grind on him a little bit...

he starts to lose focus on what he was doing before almost completely, struggling to keep his train of thought on track LOL

america/alfred f. jones ♡

the man loves food, so if his partner is letting him lick a line of whipped cream off of them, he's going to do it no questions asked.

he can be so pathetic sometimes; begging for attention, wanting to be held...if he really likes the person he's fucking he'll become so clingy 🥺

praise is his favorite. he loves it when his partner makes it personal and puts a 'my' in front of the petnames. (ie "my good boy")

loves when his partner rides him, loves it even more when he's the one riding.

i can see the foreplay being his favorite part of having sex...he likes the build up

japan/kiku honda ♡

if his partner happened to have a hand kink, then being with him would be like winning the lottery

i headcanon him as having some nice, slim fingers and soft hands that feel really nice when he's touching his partner all over.

he has slightly long yet well manicured finger nails that could leave some scratchmarks on his partner's back if they fucked him in missionary

has a thing for getting his ears licked during sex (it feels good fight me)

the way he looks kind of vanilla but would probably write the most horrific and degrading words on his partner's body in marker 🙀

[lady0ctavia]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[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.

[merbear25]

Hi, can you make Russia, Germany and Prussia with a reader who's also a total simp for them? (Like in previous ask✨️)

Hello, hello! So much love for the Hetalia men, I love it! Thank you for sending in your request. I hope you like what I've written for you 💜💜

pt 1, pt 2

CW: gn!reader, fluff, headcanons

Meeting a simp reader (Russia, Germany, Prussia)

Russia

At first, he was a bit shocked, then that shifted into doubt before he eventually realized you were genuinely head over heels for him.

The more time you spent around each other, the more comfortable he became, eventually looking around for you when you weren’t by his side.

He’d adore cuddling with you, especially on cold nights when the winter wind was howling loudly. Whenever you drifted off to sleep in his arms, he melted and allowed himself to fall asleep soon after. Waking up to you still wrapped up in his embrace gave him the confirmation that you were there because you wanted to be.

He’d want to strengthen your bond by exploring your common interests. I’d even go as far to say he’d get out of his comfort zone: giving things a try that he may not have prior to meeting you. A deep and meaningful connection was all that he’d really want at the end of the day and if you were willing to give that to him, he’d never complain.

Germany

He’d be fairly hesitant to accept your praise and affection. He was far from the romantic or touchy-feely type and you always wanting to be around him was making him…flustered. 

Despite that, you appeared to be hard-working, dedicated to your ambitions, and an overall respectable person, eventually earning his good graces.

With you seeming more than one dimensional to him now, someone he felt like he might enjoy having around, he’d invite you to training sessions and maybe small outings with the others if he thought you’d like it. Affection would undoubtedly start out small, mostly through acts of service and sometimes words of affirmation.

The progression in your relationship would be slow yet gradual, leaving room for you to both explore who the other truly was. Quality time would increase the more comfortable he became around you, wanting to share peaceful moments with you or enjoying a nice walk in the park. Looking at you, he’d have a subtle smile pertaining to his gratitude for you.

Prussia

Everyone knew just how highly he thought of himself, so when you came into his life fawning over him, he couldn’t help but agree with you. He was the amazing Prussia afterall.

When your praise and adoration didn’t wear off the more time you spent with him and you expressed genuine interest in him, he started to wonder what your deal was—what you were all about.

You piqued his interest and now he wanted to know more about you. Inviting you out for drinks would be the easiest option for him. Getting more one-on-one time with you made everything easier for the two of you to bond properly. He came to really like you and suddenly your praise made him feel a bit differently—more affectionate.

Once you two got past the first hump with getting to know each other, he’d match your eagerness to see each other. He'd want to be around you all the time. Despite the chaotic energy he brought, he enjoyed the softer moments too. Whenever he got you smiling and laughing were times that he cherished, never wanting that feeling to fade.

[generational-atrophy]

Nice blog! You wouldn't mind if I took a little chomp out of it yeah? :D

Mmmmm can I request France,Germany,England, Prussia and Russia with an s/o who really likes there accent and voice. S/o would listen to them talk all day just to hear there voice/accent? There just mesmerized by it.

Much appreciated partner and have a great day🙏🙏‼️‼️🔥🔥⁉️⁉️🪑🪑🪑🪑

(France, Germany, England, Prussia & Russia x Reader) S/O that loves their accent!

(Gender Neutral) Headcanons ~ A/N have fun eating my blog but beware. Theres poison sometimes :)

Trigger Warning: None, just fluff!

Oh, you do not need to tell him that. He knows. And he adores how obsessed you are with just his voice. Don’t worry, he won’t tease you too bad

But expect to be woken up a couple of times by him reading you love poems in French. Actually, he’s doing that all the time. Anytime that he can speak to you in French, he’s doing it.

“My beautiful language for a beautiful person, no?”

It’s also pretty obvious that he exaggerates his accent for you. Sure, he’s been speaking English for centuries, but you’d never guess that from how he talks to you. It’s a little childish, but he just can’t get enough of your face whenever he says anything even remotely romantic in that silky voice of his.

Whenever he catches you staring, he can’t do anything but grin, promising himself that he’ll spoil you sometime soon for being so cute.

Ludwig has never really liked his own voice that much, so at least someone does for him. He always complains it’s too harsh and too loud. And years of people judging him for his accent didn’t help that…

But he trusts you completely. If you say you want to hear him, he’ll talk as much as you want. But since you’re not giving him a prompt, you’re hearing about 1870s train logistics. He doesn’t make the rules.

He would try to be all affectionate and sweet like you want him to… but that is really not his forte. He tries! But you’ll just both end up blushing and stuttering and getting nothing done then. If it’s just his handsome accent you want though, you’re all good. He can make a manual on building an IKEA chair sound hot.

He’d rather hear YOU ramble than do so himself. Even if he does love how adorable you are when you’re so infatuated with him.

No surprise there. You’re not the first partner of his to love his voice, and you won’t be the last. Luckily that means he’s got a whole lot of experience, so he knows exactly what to say to melt your heart.

“Come on, Darling, don’t look at me like that.  Why don’t we get out of here, just me and you? How about that, Love?”

He’s not much for rambling, much less talking about himself, but he can absolutely fulfil your need for his voice elsewhere. A lot of your nights spent together will be him reading some ancient novel to you, his voice soothing as ever, until you inevitably fall asleep cuddled up next to him.

He must admit, he loves having that power over you. Being able to make you fall in love with him using nothing but his words? You’re just so cute, he can’t resist flustering you on purpose.

Well, of course you do! He’s spent centuries making sure he sounds hot as hell! But… you’re being serious right? You aren’t annoyed by how high-pitched he can get? Ok, thank god.

He is so excited once you tell him that. It’s hard to stop himself from immediately teasing you about it. After all, there isn’t a single sight that’s cuter to him than your pretty face all lost in love for him.

If you’re ever feeling down, he tries to distract you by simply telling you a long, overly complicated story from his past. Which, with those purple eyes fixed on you and a goofy smile plastered across his face, all the while his voice drips with accent, it’s hard to not get distracted.

He loves talking about himself anyway. It’s a good thing you like hearing him. Most people don’t. But that’s just what makes you two meant to be <3

Oh, you like his voice? He’s confused. You’re being serious? … why?

The poor guy is really insecure about his voice. He worries his accent is too strong, too ugly, and his voice is way too high-pitched. It seems like no one likes when he talks… they say he’s rude and weird. So… your adoration for him and how he speaks is a real shock.

Whenever you ask him to talk more, he gets all embarrassed and doesn’t know what to say! Especially if you compliment his accent, then he just freezes up and dismisses you. Anywhere you are, he’ll start talking all quietly and cover his face with his hands. But you can still see him blushing underneath them…

But once he’s used to it, he loves just narrating the things he’s doing. Sometimes you’ll wake up and come downstairs to see him coming up with some silly song about the breakfast he’s cooking you. Learning that you like hearing him has definitely made him include stuff like that in his daily routine. 

Plus, now when he wants a reaction out of you… he’ll lean into it. Rolling his r’s dramatically, whispering to you in Russian… when he wants to be, he’s quite a tease.

[maansteenblauw]

Got Ostalgie? The picture of Russia and Prussia with Prussia's Trabant will cure it!

I drew this for my fanfic and realised I never posted a clean image for everyone to enjoy. very bad of me. I have now fixed mistake so please all do enjoy to hearts content and have awesome day! ^.^

longer version bellow cut I made to be more phone friendly as a wallpaper!

[kamizuya]

A sneak peak at another WIP that I might or might not finish…

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Here’s the original idea:

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[seselblue]

RusPru MicroWeek 2024

Día 3: Gloria | Plan | Enseñar

@doomspiral

P: Is not just put it in the ground? / ¿No es solo ponerla en la tierra?

R: Pff, no. *Deny moving the head* / Pff, no. *Niega moviendo la cabeza*

P: Stop laughing at me/ Deja de reírte de mi.

I like to think that Russia loves plants / Me gusta pensar que Rusia ama las plantas

[desuke13]

Currently I'm writing a new Light Novel (Zombie AU and Omegaverse) with RuPru and USUK as the main couples 🥰 I want to celebrate 06/02 with their designs from my LN, I hope I can finish it this year. Chapter 1-5 will be available in AO3 as soon as possible. Happy RoPu day! (06/02)

[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.