![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
America pinning Canada down while molesting(I'd put rape but I don't want any penetration) her on her own bed. Includes foreplay, cunnilingus and Scary!America. "No one makes me feel as good as you do Canada~."
Bonus points if France of England saves Canada and beats up America as well.
Bonus points if France of England saves Canada and beats up America as well.
It starts out as something innocent.
Of course, no one should ever be thinking about their sister in that way. Ever. But in all forms, shapes and sizes, Mathilda Williams is Alfred's dream girl.
Sure, she can be a little invisible from time to time, but that's the way he likes her. She listens intently and sometimes can be rather snarky, she is caring and always there, you know? Mathilda is exactly the type of girl who is the supportive role for a hero like him!
Of course, no one should ever be thinking about their sister in that way. Ever. But in all forms, shapes and sizes, Mathilda Williams is Alfred's dream girl.
Sure, she can be a little invisible from time to time, but that's the way he likes her. She listens intently and sometimes can be rather snarky, she is caring and always there, you know? Mathilda is exactly the type of girl who is the supportive role for a hero like him!
America/China.
Hairpulling. Specifically, America pulling China's Hair during sex. China loves it.
Hairpulling. Specifically, America pulling China's Hair during sex. China loves it.
Filled -> http://hetalia-kink.livejournal.com/6850.html?thread=11247554#t11247554
Rock N Roll! US
Alfred during the 80s wearing tight ripped pants with crotch plating, ripped up or no shirt, and crazy hair.
He's rock n rollin', making a country all hot and bothered by his new look.
BONUS: References to any rock n roll band.
Alfred during the 80s wearing tight ripped pants with crotch plating, ripped up or no shirt, and crazy hair.
He's rock n rollin', making a country all hot and bothered by his new look.
BONUS: References to any rock n roll band.
Anon you win, are you secretly me? :0
We both used "hot and bothered" to describe America, por eso I WOULD LOVE TO SEE THIS DONE! <3
We both used "hot and bothered" to describe America, por eso I WOULD LOVE TO SEE THIS DONE! <3
We all know S. Korea is a breast-grabber, yes?
I'd like some N. Korea/S. Korea/China, China bottoming hard...
And N. Korea is a crotch-grabber. Run with it, anon!
I'd like some N. Korea/S. Korea/China, China bottoming hard...
And N. Korea is a crotch-grabber. Run with it, anon!
Matthew in highschool alternate universe. The brunt of being a loner. The hardships of a social outcast.
......and having a major crush on 11th grader Francis. :D
c'mon, we need some matthew lovin's <3
......and having a major crush on 11th grader Francis. :D
c'mon, we need some matthew lovin's <3
http://hetalia-kink.livejournal.com/11813.html?thread=37408293#t37408293
Austria/Hungary
I saw this picture: http://i185.photobucket.com/albums/x152/CrimsonAlchemist75/3422106.jpg
And immediately I got this idea for a request. So here it is: Austria teaching Hungary how to play the piano. He can compliment her hands and guide her hands across the keys or something romantic like that. I just really want to see fluff and romance and if they end up having sex, that would be a HUGE bonus. And if this could be their first time (kissing and being intimate) I will seriously LOVE the person who fills this to death.
Sorry, specific request is specific D:
I saw this picture: http://i185.photobucket.com/albums/x152/CrimsonAlchemist75/3422106.jpg
And immediately I got this idea for a request. So here it is: Austria teaching Hungary how to play the piano. He can compliment her hands and guide her hands across the keys or something romantic like that. I just really want to see fluff and romance and if they end up having sex, that would be a HUGE bonus. And if this could be their first time (kissing and being intimate) I will seriously LOVE the person who fills this to death.
Sorry, specific request is specific D:
Oh, I’m such a sucker for romance.
Also, because I’m a nerd, the songs Austria plays are:
Sonata in C major, K. 330 –Mozart
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oQzp_-N6IUs&feature=related
June: Barcarolle –Tchaikovsky
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eBDAklpf8X4
Twinkle Twinkle Little Star
Hungarian Dance no. 5 in F# minor (although Austria augmented it to A minor to make it easier on Hungary) –Brahms
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Cy58DFwtOHI
~*~
His fingers pressed onto the keys, the perfect chord ringing through the room only to blend into the next one seamlessly. The notes seemed to make the very dust motes sparkle in the late afternoon sun, rendering the music room an almost ethereal quality.
Elizaveta sat quietly, her hands folded on her lap, listening to her husband play. These moments were some of her favourites. When her husband played, she could feel the outside world drop away, and it would be only the two of them and the small music room that mattered. It still filled her with wonder, how the notes somehow came from his memory to his hands to make such beautiful sounds
She recognised the ends of the song and watched as he rocked towards the keyboard to use his full body to press the final notes of the cadence. His fingers lifted smoothly from the piano, although he kept the foot pedal depressed, allowing the final chord to ring through the room.
“That was lovely,” she said with a smile after several seconds had passed.
Her husband smiled back, his mouth slightly lopsided, making Elizaveta’s heart quicken. She loved her husband’s smile. It always looked slightly broken, as if he didn’t do it often, and sometimes forgot how it worked.
“Thank you,” he replied. “I’ve always enjoyed the second movement. Most people prefer the first, but there’s something so carefree about the second that it always gives me a pleasant feeling.”
Elizaveta nodded.
“Is there something I can play for you?” His foot lifted from the pedal, dampening the ring, although the after effect still shimmered in the warm room.
She swallowed, her throat gone suddenly dry. “Aren’t you playing for me already?” she asked, hiding her excitedly trembling hands in her skirt.
His violet eyes gazed at her warmly. “I meant is there something specific you would like to hear?”
“Oh.” She blushed. “Maybe something with soft, but with large chords or arpeggios?” Elizaveta was rather proud of that last word. The language of music was almost as foreign to her as her husband’s had been at first, but she was learning. Not that she didn’t have her mishaps, such as when she mistakenly said al dente instead of andante.
“Of course,” her husband agreed. “I have a new piece from Ivan’s country that I’ve recently learnt. May I play it for you?”
Elizaveta smiled. “Please.”
Her husband turned back to the piano and he laid his fingers lovingly on the keys, stroking down them gently. Elizaveta shivered, suddenly wondering how those fingers would feel on her own skin.
Those hands were often in her thoughts, especially late at night, lying in her large, cold bed. Alone. Her husband had given her a wedding ceremony, an unrequired kindness of him, considering the majority of their union was done through legal papers and councils. His hands had held hers then, large and warm, and when he gave her a kiss, the briefest of meetings of lips, it was like a spring tempest had arisen in her stomach, lightning and all.
Since then, he had never done so much as kiss her again. He had given her her own room, and said goodnight every night through their adjoining doors, but then the doors closed and separated them. She almost despaired that he didn’t want her as a wife – that he was disappointed to be saddled with a fighter from a country who didn’t know the difference between a salad fork and a fish fork.
But then sometimes she felt him watching her, something in his violet gaze making her breath catch as her blood ran hot.
Shaking her head slightly as he starting the first few notes, she banished her unladylike thoughts and let herself become entranced once again by the intricate dance of his hands, the way his fingers moved and stretched and appeared to collide but didn’t.
Also, because I’m a nerd, the songs Austria plays are:
Sonata in C major, K. 330 –Mozart
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oQzp_-N6IUs&feature=related
June: Barcarolle –Tchaikovsky
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eBDAklpf8X4
Twinkle Twinkle Little Star
Hungarian Dance no. 5 in F# minor (although Austria augmented it to A minor to make it easier on Hungary) –Brahms
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Cy58DFwtOHI
~*~
His fingers pressed onto the keys, the perfect chord ringing through the room only to blend into the next one seamlessly. The notes seemed to make the very dust motes sparkle in the late afternoon sun, rendering the music room an almost ethereal quality.
Elizaveta sat quietly, her hands folded on her lap, listening to her husband play. These moments were some of her favourites. When her husband played, she could feel the outside world drop away, and it would be only the two of them and the small music room that mattered. It still filled her with wonder, how the notes somehow came from his memory to his hands to make such beautiful sounds
She recognised the ends of the song and watched as he rocked towards the keyboard to use his full body to press the final notes of the cadence. His fingers lifted smoothly from the piano, although he kept the foot pedal depressed, allowing the final chord to ring through the room.
“That was lovely,” she said with a smile after several seconds had passed.
Her husband smiled back, his mouth slightly lopsided, making Elizaveta’s heart quicken. She loved her husband’s smile. It always looked slightly broken, as if he didn’t do it often, and sometimes forgot how it worked.
“Thank you,” he replied. “I’ve always enjoyed the second movement. Most people prefer the first, but there’s something so carefree about the second that it always gives me a pleasant feeling.”
Elizaveta nodded.
“Is there something I can play for you?” His foot lifted from the pedal, dampening the ring, although the after effect still shimmered in the warm room.
She swallowed, her throat gone suddenly dry. “Aren’t you playing for me already?” she asked, hiding her excitedly trembling hands in her skirt.
His violet eyes gazed at her warmly. “I meant is there something specific you would like to hear?”
“Oh.” She blushed. “Maybe something with soft, but with large chords or arpeggios?” Elizaveta was rather proud of that last word. The language of music was almost as foreign to her as her husband’s had been at first, but she was learning. Not that she didn’t have her mishaps, such as when she mistakenly said al dente instead of andante.
“Of course,” her husband agreed. “I have a new piece from Ivan’s country that I’ve recently learnt. May I play it for you?”
Elizaveta smiled. “Please.”
Her husband turned back to the piano and he laid his fingers lovingly on the keys, stroking down them gently. Elizaveta shivered, suddenly wondering how those fingers would feel on her own skin.
Those hands were often in her thoughts, especially late at night, lying in her large, cold bed. Alone. Her husband had given her a wedding ceremony, an unrequired kindness of him, considering the majority of their union was done through legal papers and councils. His hands had held hers then, large and warm, and when he gave her a kiss, the briefest of meetings of lips, it was like a spring tempest had arisen in her stomach, lightning and all.
Since then, he had never done so much as kiss her again. He had given her her own room, and said goodnight every night through their adjoining doors, but then the doors closed and separated them. She almost despaired that he didn’t want her as a wife – that he was disappointed to be saddled with a fighter from a country who didn’t know the difference between a salad fork and a fish fork.
But then sometimes she felt him watching her, something in his violet gaze making her breath catch as her blood ran hot.
Shaking her head slightly as he starting the first few notes, she banished her unladylike thoughts and let herself become entranced once again by the intricate dance of his hands, the way his fingers moved and stretched and appeared to collide but didn’t.
Post Chernobyl Comfort!sex, because Ukraine needs way more love guys!
Very yes. This anon was just thinking about Chernobyl recently and hoping for such a request. /highfives mind-reading OP
Seeing which one of them is the better lover.
China/Korea half the kink is the order, other half is China 'creatively' shutting up a K-Pop singing Korea. Preferably fluffy with mainly kisses and such. (I know you anons out there can write a China willing to kiss Korea! Please, for OP~?)
Bonus points if Korea's singing "Gee" (Girls' Generation) which can be found here (http://http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bnu9JRdVaNg).
Bonus points if Korea's singing "Gee" (Girls' Generation) which can be found here (http://http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bnu9JRdVaNg).
America, fucking himself on the gearshift of one of Germany's cars. Bonus points if Germany walks in on him and gives him a hand.
So Yeah. I'm going to a special hell for this. Hope you enjoy :)
*******
Alfred ran his hands over the hood. Even in the moonlight, it was beautiful. Sparkling, metallic cherry red paint, black leather...chrome. Germany had shown everyone the ins and outs of his new car earlier in the day, but he had snuck back for a closer look.
The brand new, hot off the line, personalized Porsche Boxter sat in Ludwig’s side driveway.
He lifted the handle, and slid into the driver’s seat. The top was down, letting the breeze work over him. He wished he had the keys to hear it purr once more. That engine. Six cylinders and two hundred and fifty five horse power of raw power and sex. Very Ludwig, he thought. It ignited a fire in the American’s blood.
He leaned back in the seat, inhaling deeply, rubbing his hands over the wheel, dash, and gear shaft. Everything was smooth, and smelled like leather, new car, and Ludwig. He could pick out the German’s cologne amongst everything else.
America brought his hand over the bulge in his pants and laughed. He thought about how Ludwig would react if he ever found out how turned on he was by a car. He thought about the German’s scowl, and how he’d probably tell him he was foolish in that thick, low, accented voice, or maybe in German.
He kept one hand on the wheel, the other working on his zipper. His eyes closed in lust as he began to run his hand up his shaft and around the wheel at the same time. His hand drifted from the wheel to the gear shift, mimicking what his other hand was doing.
It wasn’t soon before the American felt this wasn’t enough. He need more. His hand on the gear shift started the wicked ideas rolling around in his lust-addled brain. Maybe…Maybe if I’m careful. He looked at the shift again. Ludwig is going to kill me. He was going to go through with it.
Getting your pants off in a small German car was harder than first imagined. Luckily, the seat was pushed back enough to accommodate Ludwig’s long legs. His hands shook with anticipation as he straddled the center console of the car. Preparing himself was awkward, but he thanked every deity known to man for the small bottle he hid in his bomber jacket for “special occasions.” There wasn’t much space to move, but soon he had three fingers successfully in and moving, stretching. A warm breeze reminded him where he was: in Ludwig’s convertible, the top down. It was time.
He went slowly. It was a delicious burn as the head breached him, pain and pleasure mixing. He braced one arm on the seat and began to move, fucking himself on the gear shift. His other hand, slick with lube went to work on his hardness.
*******
Alfred ran his hands over the hood. Even in the moonlight, it was beautiful. Sparkling, metallic cherry red paint, black leather...chrome. Germany had shown everyone the ins and outs of his new car earlier in the day, but he had snuck back for a closer look.
The brand new, hot off the line, personalized Porsche Boxter sat in Ludwig’s side driveway.
He lifted the handle, and slid into the driver’s seat. The top was down, letting the breeze work over him. He wished he had the keys to hear it purr once more. That engine. Six cylinders and two hundred and fifty five horse power of raw power and sex. Very Ludwig, he thought. It ignited a fire in the American’s blood.
He leaned back in the seat, inhaling deeply, rubbing his hands over the wheel, dash, and gear shaft. Everything was smooth, and smelled like leather, new car, and Ludwig. He could pick out the German’s cologne amongst everything else.
America brought his hand over the bulge in his pants and laughed. He thought about how Ludwig would react if he ever found out how turned on he was by a car. He thought about the German’s scowl, and how he’d probably tell him he was foolish in that thick, low, accented voice, or maybe in German.
He kept one hand on the wheel, the other working on his zipper. His eyes closed in lust as he began to run his hand up his shaft and around the wheel at the same time. His hand drifted from the wheel to the gear shift, mimicking what his other hand was doing.
It wasn’t soon before the American felt this wasn’t enough. He need more. His hand on the gear shift started the wicked ideas rolling around in his lust-addled brain. Maybe…Maybe if I’m careful. He looked at the shift again. Ludwig is going to kill me. He was going to go through with it.
Getting your pants off in a small German car was harder than first imagined. Luckily, the seat was pushed back enough to accommodate Ludwig’s long legs. His hands shook with anticipation as he straddled the center console of the car. Preparing himself was awkward, but he thanked every deity known to man for the small bottle he hid in his bomber jacket for “special occasions.” There wasn’t much space to move, but soon he had three fingers successfully in and moving, stretching. A warm breeze reminded him where he was: in Ludwig’s convertible, the top down. It was time.
He went slowly. It was a delicious burn as the head breached him, pain and pleasure mixing. He braced one arm on the seat and began to move, fucking himself on the gear shift. His other hand, slick with lube went to work on his hardness.
America finally realizes that Arthur is in love with him
http://hetalia-kink.dreamwidth.org/78769.html?thread=508694961#cmt508694961
Spain is kidnapped by the Mafia so Romano can give him an offer he can't refuse, wink wink.
Arthur watches the Cadbury's advert and (like many others) tries to do it.
Bonus if other nations get in on the action.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lIx1Hhq7sUc
Bonus if other nations get in on the action.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lIx1Hhq7sUc
(screened comment)
orz. This is oddly specific.
Canada asking England for love advice on France, and their talk somehow touches on the whether a Nation can truly love another Nation or a human. As their talk goes on, Canada asks England if he's ever been in love, and then England reluctantly but eventually talks about his past loves (more bonus points his past loves include Arthur, Elizabeth I and Oscar Wilde).
And throughout this, France and America is listening.UK x US hints are appreciated very much.
Canada asking England for love advice on France, and their talk somehow touches on the whether a Nation can truly love another Nation or a human. As their talk goes on, Canada asks England if he's ever been in love, and then England reluctantly but eventually talks about his past loves (more bonus points his past loves include Arthur, Elizabeth I and Oscar Wilde).
And throughout this, France and America is listening.UK x US hints are appreciated very much.
aww this is so sweet! Seconded!
Crack pairings anyone?
WRITE ME AN ENGLAND/BELARUS FIC. LIKE NAO.who cares if they've never even talked to each other in canon?
Prompt: Who cares? Just make it work. xD
RECAPTCHA: vanquish me. LOL
WRITE ME AN ENGLAND/BELARUS FIC. LIKE NAO.
Prompt: Who cares? Just make it work. xD
RECAPTCHA: vanquish me. LOL
Spain speaking a regional language other than Castillian (that is, Basque, Catalan, Valencian, Galician, etc...)
Pairings or lack thereof completely up to you, dear anon.
Pairings or lack thereof completely up to you, dear anon.
WORLD CONFERENCE WIFI POKEMON BATTLE TOURNAMENT.
YOU KNOW THEY DON'T DO ANYTHING IMPORTANT IN THOSE MEETINGS ANYWAY.
... AND THAT YOU WANT IT.
BONUS POINTS IF YOU HAVE ACTUALLY PLAYED THE NEW GAMES. FUCK OLD-SCHOOL.
I'll stop shouting and go away and fill not-dumb requests now. BUT MY REQUEST still stands.
YOU KNOW THEY DON'T DO ANYTHING IMPORTANT IN THOSE MEETINGS ANYWAY.
... AND THAT YOU WANT IT.
BONUS POINTS IF YOU HAVE ACTUALLY PLAYED THE NEW GAMES. FUCK OLD-SCHOOL.
I'll stop shouting and go away and fill not-dumb requests now. BUT MY REQUEST still stands.
“Hah! Suck on the fist of my Palkia!”
“You bloody cheat, Alfred! Legendaries are illegal! You’re breaking the rules!”
America pumped the air with his fist as his champion team stormed to victory again. England threw down his DS in disgust, folding his arms. “You’re a cheat, anyway.”
America snorted and moved onto his next opponent, trouncing Prussia’s team of Bidoofs in seconds. Then he cleaned out Russia’s ice-based team with his Infernape, and creamed Japan’s team of Gameboy-era rubbish.
He looked up triumphantly. “Who’s next?”
“Oh, can I play?” Estonia smiled, holding up a cute little pink DS. America hadn’t even realised he owned a DS, but whatever.
“Sure, if you want your ass handed to you on a plate!”
“Haha, I don’t mind! I really like Pokemon, I’m glad I can play it with someone else.”
They linked up, and America sent out his Infernape with a sly grin, watching to see what Estonia would bring out.
When he saw it, he couldn’t believe it.
“A Milotic? What the Hell? I tried to get one of those things for ages but I couldn’t find the right place to fish!” He exclaimed. Estonia smiled.
“Oh, well, I have time on my hands so I’ve got a lot of patience…”
America lost his Infernape to a Surf – not biggie, a fire Pokemon against a water one was a no-brainer – and sent out his Luxray.
“Haha, what are you gonna do now?” He asked, beaming over the top of his DS. Estonia smiled, and clicked. Luxray shot out a Thunder Fang, and Milotic…
Milotic didn’t even faint! America gaped at the screen, then up at Estonia. “You’re cheating!” He cried. England muttered something about pots and kettles to his right. Estonia smiled apologetically back.
“Well it has a perfect 31 IV in defence, and I EV-trained it to the maximum, so…”
Luxray fell to an Ice Beam. Estonia picked his way through the rest of America’s team with ease, and as every Pokemon dropped, America sulked more and more. When his on-screen alter-ego fainted, he put down his DS with a cough.
“Anyway, we’re meant to be solving some problems, so, let’s…let’s get down to some work! I think we should try putting a band-aid over the hole in the ozone layer, how about that?” He said desperately.
England smirked at him. “Sore loser, aren’t you?”
As everyone else congratulated Estonia, America resolved to make it a contest of driving games next time. He was far, far better at those…
“You bloody cheat, Alfred! Legendaries are illegal! You’re breaking the rules!”
America pumped the air with his fist as his champion team stormed to victory again. England threw down his DS in disgust, folding his arms. “You’re a cheat, anyway.”
America snorted and moved onto his next opponent, trouncing Prussia’s team of Bidoofs in seconds. Then he cleaned out Russia’s ice-based team with his Infernape, and creamed Japan’s team of Gameboy-era rubbish.
He looked up triumphantly. “Who’s next?”
“Oh, can I play?” Estonia smiled, holding up a cute little pink DS. America hadn’t even realised he owned a DS, but whatever.
“Sure, if you want your ass handed to you on a plate!”
“Haha, I don’t mind! I really like Pokemon, I’m glad I can play it with someone else.”
They linked up, and America sent out his Infernape with a sly grin, watching to see what Estonia would bring out.
When he saw it, he couldn’t believe it.
“A Milotic? What the Hell? I tried to get one of those things for ages but I couldn’t find the right place to fish!” He exclaimed. Estonia smiled.
“Oh, well, I have time on my hands so I’ve got a lot of patience…”
America lost his Infernape to a Surf – not biggie, a fire Pokemon against a water one was a no-brainer – and sent out his Luxray.
“Haha, what are you gonna do now?” He asked, beaming over the top of his DS. Estonia smiled, and clicked. Luxray shot out a Thunder Fang, and Milotic…
Milotic didn’t even faint! America gaped at the screen, then up at Estonia. “You’re cheating!” He cried. England muttered something about pots and kettles to his right. Estonia smiled apologetically back.
“Well it has a perfect 31 IV in defence, and I EV-trained it to the maximum, so…”
Luxray fell to an Ice Beam. Estonia picked his way through the rest of America’s team with ease, and as every Pokemon dropped, America sulked more and more. When his on-screen alter-ego fainted, he put down his DS with a cough.
“Anyway, we’re meant to be solving some problems, so, let’s…let’s get down to some work! I think we should try putting a band-aid over the hole in the ozone layer, how about that?” He said desperately.
England smirked at him. “Sore loser, aren’t you?”
As everyone else congratulated Estonia, America resolved to make it a contest of driving games next time. He was far, far better at those…
Kinda specific but...
France/Canada
France (after going to an Ice Hockey game with Matthew) is utterly apalled at Canada's vigour towards the blood and violence of the game.
So after the game it's time for Francis to decide how they spend the rest of their night, non?
France/Canada
France (after going to an Ice Hockey game with Matthew) is utterly apalled at Canada's vigour towards the blood and violence of the game.
So after the game it's time for Francis to decide how they spend the rest of their night, non?
http://hetalia-kink.livejournal.com/18772.html?thread=75981908#t75981908
Germany/North Italy. Long-lasting, drawn-out sexual frustration reaches a breaking point, resulting in fully clothed frottage in a public place.
whoa. whoa, anon. this sounds so incredibly hot
seconded--!
seconded--!
Hippie!America, attempting to introduce the other nations to the concept of "Free Love," with varying degrees of success.
Bonus: include a lava lamp.
Bonus: include a lava lamp.
Would Anon be okay if smoking pot was involved?
Request is based on this fill: http://hetalia-kink.livejournal.com/4567.html?thread=5013719#t5013719 (You'll have to scroll down a bit to find the fic)
So, what I want is basically a sequel where batshitcrazy!America and Russia are fighting against each other with America getting the opportunity to kill off one of Russia's sisters (can be either one) to get part of his revenge. How Belarus/Ukraine get killed off is up to you although I would assume it would be pretty gritty and in a way where Russia will see it. While all of this is happening, the other nations are debating whether to get involved or not and lots of angst ensues!
Bonus if you can include this quote, "You know, if Matthew was here, he would not approve of all this violence, even if what Ivan did to him is unforgivable." This can by said by anyone although I would prefer either UK or France.
Sorry if this is too specific. It's just that, I would really really like to see a continuation of this and I know some would like to see it too.
So, what I want is basically a sequel where batshitcrazy!America and Russia are fighting against each other with America getting the opportunity to kill off one of Russia's sisters (can be either one) to get part of his revenge. How Belarus/Ukraine get killed off is up to you although I would assume it would be pretty gritty and in a way where Russia will see it. While all of this is happening, the other nations are debating whether to get involved or not and lots of angst ensues!
Bonus if you can include this quote, "You know, if Matthew was here, he would not approve of all this violence, even if what Ivan did to him is unforgivable." This can by said by anyone although I would prefer either UK or France.
Sorry if this is too specific. It's just that, I would really really like to see a continuation of this and I know some would like to see it too.
DISCLAIMER! I am not the same writer as the one who filled this request. It may suck. In fact, it does suck. Don't read it! It's bad!
("Flowers? For me? You shouldn't have, Matt."
"They're not for you, Al. They're a present for-- for someone else, she just declared independance, so I thought I'd go over and-"
"She? Oho, the plot thickens! Somebody has a cru~ush!"
"S-shut up! I just wanted to congratulate her on her independence, okay?"
"Yeah, yeah. Who's this mysterious lady, then?"
"... Yekaterina. She--"
"That's Ivan's sister, right? You have a crush on Ivan's sister? Man, Matt, I don't want to be Ivan's in-law."
"I don't have a crush on her! Jeez!")
Yekaterina - Ukraine- is kneeling on the ground, now. She would stand if she could, but the lower half of her left leg is almost entirely missing.
Alfred cannot remember inflicting that injury on her. It occurs to him that maybe he should feel remorse, that this girl does not deserve it, but whenever he tries to feel bad about what he is doing he just hears I love you, I'll stay here, they won't notice it's not you in his mind again and all sympathy falls flat.
There are no flowers left in the field they're standing on; it has been mud for some time, and was ice for some time before that. She is crying. It seems she cries a lot. Alfred does not move the gun from where it is pointing- the barrel is aimed squarely at her forehead.
"I'm sorry. For what he did. Matthew was ... I would have stopped him, if I knew. I'm sorry."
Her voice is choked. Alfred can understand why; after all, her sister is sprawled on the ground not twenty feet away from where they are, her long hair all matted with blood and dirt.
"Would you have? Really?"
His voice sounds choked, he realizes suddenly. Dimly, he wonders why this is. He'd had absolutely no problem dispatching Natalia- but then, she'd been an active threat. She'd been armed, she was attacking, Alfred had just taken the adrenaline rush and gone with it. Natalia had not been crying and apologizing.
But that wasn't it, exactly. That wasn't the full reason.
("I-It's not that! W-well, she is really cute, b-but it's not that I have a crush on her! I just have a really big Ukrainian population, so it's important for me to establish diplomatic relations!"
"Sooo you have a crush on her."
"N-NO!")
"... Yes. Matthew was my friend. I would have stopped him, Alfred. I would have tried. I-I--"
Yekaterina is silent, then, except for the quiet sound of sobbing. Alfred's aim wavers momentarily. He is aware- the rational part of his mind is aware- that Ivan's troops will be here soon, and it would be best to dispatch this woman before reinforcements arrive.
The emotional part of his mind-
("I don't have a crush on her, okay!?")
- is conflicted -
("Nobody will notice. I already cut my hair. I love you. Please go now, while there's still time.")
- between -
("Matthew loved peace, Alfred. He loved everyone. He wouldn't want you to do this. He would hate to see you turn into this. This isn't the Alfred he loved. Ivan did something horrible, but you are becoming just as bad as he was."
"Shut up, Arthur. Don't try to talk me out of this. He killed Matthew. He has to pay.")
- at least three extreme feelings -
(The gunshot that ends his brother's life is loud, so loud, too loud, and it works its way into every dream and every thought and every emotion he has, until all Alfred can think about is gunshots--)
- and Yekaterina smiles at him.
("Flowers? For me? You shouldn't have, Matt."
"They're not for you, Al. They're a present for-- for someone else, she just declared independance, so I thought I'd go over and-"
"She? Oho, the plot thickens! Somebody has a cru~ush!"
"S-shut up! I just wanted to congratulate her on her independence, okay?"
"Yeah, yeah. Who's this mysterious lady, then?"
"... Yekaterina. She--"
"That's Ivan's sister, right? You have a crush on Ivan's sister? Man, Matt, I don't want to be Ivan's in-law."
"I don't have a crush on her! Jeez!")
Yekaterina - Ukraine- is kneeling on the ground, now. She would stand if she could, but the lower half of her left leg is almost entirely missing.
Alfred cannot remember inflicting that injury on her. It occurs to him that maybe he should feel remorse, that this girl does not deserve it, but whenever he tries to feel bad about what he is doing he just hears I love you, I'll stay here, they won't notice it's not you in his mind again and all sympathy falls flat.
There are no flowers left in the field they're standing on; it has been mud for some time, and was ice for some time before that. She is crying. It seems she cries a lot. Alfred does not move the gun from where it is pointing- the barrel is aimed squarely at her forehead.
"I'm sorry. For what he did. Matthew was ... I would have stopped him, if I knew. I'm sorry."
Her voice is choked. Alfred can understand why; after all, her sister is sprawled on the ground not twenty feet away from where they are, her long hair all matted with blood and dirt.
"Would you have? Really?"
His voice sounds choked, he realizes suddenly. Dimly, he wonders why this is. He'd had absolutely no problem dispatching Natalia- but then, she'd been an active threat. She'd been armed, she was attacking, Alfred had just taken the adrenaline rush and gone with it. Natalia had not been crying and apologizing.
But that wasn't it, exactly. That wasn't the full reason.
("I-It's not that! W-well, she is really cute, b-but it's not that I have a crush on her! I just have a really big Ukrainian population, so it's important for me to establish diplomatic relations!"
"Sooo you have a crush on her."
"N-NO!")
"... Yes. Matthew was my friend. I would have stopped him, Alfred. I would have tried. I-I--"
Yekaterina is silent, then, except for the quiet sound of sobbing. Alfred's aim wavers momentarily. He is aware- the rational part of his mind is aware- that Ivan's troops will be here soon, and it would be best to dispatch this woman before reinforcements arrive.
The emotional part of his mind-
("I don't have a crush on her, okay!?")
- is conflicted -
("Nobody will notice. I already cut my hair. I love you. Please go now, while there's still time.")
- between -
("Matthew loved peace, Alfred. He loved everyone. He wouldn't want you to do this. He would hate to see you turn into this. This isn't the Alfred he loved. Ivan did something horrible, but you are becoming just as bad as he was."
"Shut up, Arthur. Don't try to talk me out of this. He killed Matthew. He has to pay.")
- at least three extreme feelings -
(The gunshot that ends his brother's life is loud, so loud, too loud, and it works its way into every dream and every thought and every emotion he has, until all Alfred can think about is gunshots--)
- and Yekaterina smiles at him.
But how about France/UK with jealous Alfred and/or Matthew?
Or simply America and Canada fighting for England's attention? Perhaps when they were chibiand still adorable
Or simply America and Canada fighting for England's attention? Perhaps when they were chibi
http://hetalia-kink.livejournal.com/9482.html?thread=13786122#t13786122
Russia/Belarus, breathplay. Yes, in that order, and bonus if Belarus' ribbon is involved somehow.
I noticed there has been a recent amount of requests of crossovers, so here is the obvious.
- Epic fights
- Epic power-ups
- Epic fillers
Hetalia's version of Dragonball Z crackfic.
Do whatever you want. Make me laugh.
- Epic fights
- Epic power-ups
- Epic fillers
Hetalia's version of Dragonball Z crackfic.
Do whatever you want. Make me laugh.
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