hetalia_kink | Hetalia kink meme part 27

Hetalia kink meme part 27

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For war or revenge or whatever reason, one of the magic users is involved in torturing another nation. The straightforward variety isn't working, so they get into the mindfuck variety. The magic user picks through the victim's memories and changes them, even just slightly, in terrible ways, convincing them their loved ones always hated them, their countries' most triumphant moments were defeats, their masters did terrible things to them, they died over and over and over...

Any preferences with the nation?

Not really.

I'll do it

Please do!

It starts after.
Everything starts after. After he left.
Arthur Kirkland the self same personification of England knows that his heart isn’t an entirely good one, but it is large. Too large to stop himself from loving it seems.
And he did love. He loved a great deal.
Alfred Francis Jones has a good heart, but in contrast to his self professed ‘big brother’ it is remarkably smaller. Too small for the man who raised him to matter much in the grand scheme of things.
England knows this is because his younger brother has a greater duty to the people of his nation than he does to him, but Arthur disagrees. Where England sees America Arthur sees Alfred and there is no way to reconcile the two views.
Arthur is stronger than England and this is their greatest weakness.
When the revolution proved to be more than youthful rebellion It had nearly broken Arthur. He’d found solace in his other younger brother, the one who’d been so similar in looks to his Alfred, that if he’d been careful, he could almost pretend that they were the same person. It hadn’t been right or healthy for either of them, but it had been all Arthur could do to keep himself standing.
And then matthew had left and something inside of the green eyed nation snapped.
The Kirkland brothers knew much of magic, all of them did, and while Arthur had possessed the weakest skills among them as he did in nearly everything else he was by no means a weakling.
Magic was a tool that never left him. Magic would see to it that no one ever left him again.
Alfred and Matthew were not his only charges.
The British empire grows and gorges itself on land. His soldiers snatch resources for his crown, but Arthur has only eyes for the nations that they bring to him; Hong Kong sobbing and stumbling over his pant legs, Australia with his hands calloused and face sunburned, New Zealand who wails for hours on end and speaks only to animals and occasionally other children, and so on it goes. They all try to leave, they all desire their old homes and old families, they don’t understand how much Arthur will love them, how England can care for them.
They never understand. Not until the magic comes in.
Altering a memory isn’t very difficult to accomplish, especially not when the spell is performed on an especially impressionable or young mind. It isn’t exactly ethical, far from it, but it is necessary. He has convinced himself of this.
The children sleep restlessly, tossing and turning in their sleep and crying out for past guardians that can’t possibly hold them now. Alfred had cried for Arthur. These children do not. Hong Kong screams and begs for China the others cry in languages Arthur has never bothered to learn, but the don’t call for him.
That changes with only a few words. The spell works in a way that even England doesn’t understand. He’s never cast it before. He’s never wanted to. He doesn’t know what to expect when he reads out the runes from his mother’s spell book, but as he does so a gray fog fills the room and them the house until all he can see are wisps of vapor in every direction.
And then he sees a face shining in the mist like a projection. It’s Australia. Much younger, and much smaller but him nonetheless. He smiles widely as he creeps through a thicket in some far off wood. He peers out from the brambles at the sound of footsteps and is greeted by the sight of a beast that England and Arthur have no name for. Its ears prick briefly but it continues on its way, passing by the boy entirely. Arthur heaves a sigh of relief in spite of himself.
Then the scene, the memory, resets.
This time the animal creeps closer, bearing teeth, its great eyes locking with the terrified child and Arthur has to shut his eyes and clamp hands over his ears but it doesn’t shut out the screaming, the snarling, the tearing….when he looks again there is a barely breathing child lying in a pool of his own blood. Intestines lie feet away from him, his chest is ripped open and England can make out reddened bone and a still beating, twitching heart visible in the open air. Arthur feels sick.
There are other memories as well. Every child has centuries of experience some good and some bad, but all of it rapidly shifts into the latter category once the spell takes hold.
Arthur nearly vomits as he watches China beat at his brother, a toddler, using closed fists. He watches New Zealand scream as he drowns over and over. Malaya’s pained breaths as soldiers hold him down and take turns with him will scar England’s mind forever even if he refused to look into the fog.
England knows none of this is real, but if Arthur could he’d kill every one of the creatures, women, and men he sees in these visions. It would be better than admitting to himself that he’s done this.
It goes on like this for the rest of the night and when it ends, when the air clears and he can see, his sleeping charges no longer cry out for their previous guardians. They cry for him now.
So he goes to them. And in the years that follow he finds that with them he can escape the guilt of his crime.
Of course time is a fickle mistress and the happy days with them soon end. They all leave him eventually, and he can’t blame them if they resent him. Or if they hate him.
He doesn’t know if they do harbor anger, if they know of his sin.
England never asks. Arthur is afraid to.
Of course they both eventually realize that they aren’t alone. They have brothers after all. They cling to them as long as they can, not willing to use that awful spell again.
Ireland cuts the cord between them.
A new sibling is born from the part of his brother that England has held onto. And Arthur knows he can never let him leave. He can’t let anyone leave him again.
So he doesn’t.
His brothers need him.

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I'm so sorry this is crazy late there was another version of this that was deleted from my device and a bunch of crazy stuff happened in between sorry if this wasn't what you wanted but I hope you like it

Finding this again years later, and OMG OMG OMG love it! How did you know I love platonic yandere so much?!

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Hetalia kink meme part 27

Magic user/any, poisoning memories.

Re: Magic user/any, poisoning memories.

OP

Re: OP

OP

The Things you do for love(aka platonic yandere England needs a therapist)

OP