#that’s a lie this was hw

[beeing-stuupid]

you thought i could only write poetry?? we’ll think not i wrote the intro of a story i’ll never carry on.

and yeah i shocked myself writing this in first person. it was a big bridge i had to cross to complete this. first person and original characters and all, be proud.

tw for blood, (pretty much) gory stuff and a low-key creepy ass guy

———————

To say that I met Nicholas Brisbane over my husband‘s dead body is not entirely accurate. Edward, it should be noted, was still twitching up on the floor. Ergo, not a dead body. That was until my hands found themselves lunging for his neck. His skin was cold to the touch, like metal, making my fingers burn from the contrast when Edward was alive… and now.

My eyes were locked to his; the once lively emeralds were glazed over and his soul was being clawed, desperately, downwards. The twitching had already ceased yet my fingers remained locked onto their prey. Slowly, my gaze climbed from the floor to the man a few feet ahead of me. My grip tightened. I try to let go. Thoughts were crushing against the boundaries of my mind, begging. Just let go. It felt as if the flesh was being moulded to the shape of my hand. A perfect fit. The man’s shoes were… ordinary. They were nothing whimsical or extravagant, but my mind could not supply any word but ordinary. The same went for his trousers. Pieces of material that was sewn together and bestowed unto him. Simply an ordinary sight.

Digging deeper my hands were clutching the bone of my dead husband's neck. The edges poked my skin but I did nothing but squeeze. His joints groaned under the strength I didn’t know I possessed, closely mirroring the echoes of pain pried from his mouth moments prior. The man did not move. He stood, ordinarily, as I strangled life from a corpse. The man with his ordinary suit that clung to his ordinary frame. He was just ordinary. Why could I not describe this man? I knew many words but only one matched his description.

My head rose. It was now not just my eyes looking but my whole face. The man… was this a man? Just above the shoulders, there was a head. There was a face but… I could not see it. I knew there was a face and features, but my eyes could not make sense of the signals. The sight was too much yet too little to comprehend.

I strained my eyes in an attempt to uncover the confusion clouding my mind. I heard a wet snap from below me. A soft thump followed. Wet… my fingers were wet. Just as reluctantly as they had left, my eyes returned to the body.

Crimson painted my hands and the broken ivory in the neck of my husband. The liquid from both severed parts leaked like a tap. It kept flowing… flowing till blood stained the skin of my hands and the body was wrung dry.

My hands shook, twitched, trembling but still trying to latch on to the heavy air. Before my head lifted to see a face — that was not a face — branding its stare into my pupils.

[jaynuu]

[inumbrapugnabimus-maybe]

The sillies…

[jklpopcorn]

she so ANGY

[breitzbachbea]

I guess the key to writing hws England to me is to understand he is both a control freak and a dreamer. He must have loved having secrets all for himself as a kid, his own world. He's so certain he can make the whole world dance to his tune, but should something go wrong, he has learned to pre-empt disappointment with cynicism. If something works, he will present it as inevitable success based on his abilities. If stuff goes wrong, he will say that he hadn't had high hopes. Everyone else is an idiot, except for him, because if he says he is an idiot, he isn't one. Ultimately, he cares so much but being SEEN caring is a weakness. Depending on someone else is a WEAKNESS. Anyone else feel like the Introduction From Communion to Cannibalism by Maggie Kilgour is in the room with us.

[aph-america]

6ft and bottoming… this is the type of greed they talk about in the bible

[veryaren]

AHHH. AHHHHHHAHAH.

HE'S HERE!!! ;;;;;!!!!!!!!!!! ;MY PQCKAGW... keychain by marketaico... I'VE BEEN WAITING WEEKS FOR HIM

[hwsdumbbitch]

would it excite any of you to know hetalia is having a mild renaissance over on tiktok

[ask-hws-canada]

Vengeance for the curl! An ahoge for an ahoge! We're coming for you Nantucket!

Come'on Canada, where's your "burning down the White House" spirit?

Canada: You will insert references to that game whenever you can huh?

America: Also it has a beacon and a timer if anyone tries to get away with it.

Canada: A timer ? Haha, for what ?

Canada: … what does it do when it… ? Nevermind.

[hetalia-club]

Counts as hetalia

The fact that this actually happened is a thing of beauty.

This didn’t end well by the way. Germania was not happy about this.

[shalpilot]

late night train of thought comic abt the point in heavensward where kiril makes a decision that would later be described as “very bad”

[lietpoland]

only drawing on roblox from now on

[doomspiral]

thinking about "2012 tumblr art style"

[fumblingmusings]

England and Wales and their weird horse spirits going out of their way to upset Scotland. Obby osses and Mari Lwyd and Penglaz.

Like they're harmless and just want a wee drinkie at the local pub but honestly? Horrifying.

Scotland thinks he's tough shit with Kelpies as his own resident horse nightmare fuel but really we all know he loves his Unicorns.

Each Christmas, Wales comes around and places Mari on the mantelpiece, and then in Midsummer Arthur drunkenly crashes in with Penglaz and suddenly the spirits that trick children to climb on their backs and ride out to the water to drown them doesn't look so bad in comparison.

[silly-hetalia-fun-times]

[samrut]

Tolys is a very light sleeper and keeps a blade under his pillow. On the off chance that you get close without waking him, be wary. It's best not to disturb him unless you desire a trip to the hospital.