AmericaXDying!Reader: He Understands You pull up your stockings and push your feet into your shoes, dressing for school, while sitting on the edge of your bed.More Like This
You can’t stay at home for another day. You know that there isn’t much time left and, regardless of what everyone says, you have to see the world one final time.
You pick up your backpack and open your bedroom door. The house is still, telling you that your parents are asleep.
You tip toe down the stairs and to the front door, where you hesitate for a moment.
“I can’t just leave them…”
You turn around, deciding to tell them that you’re off for school when you see your mother coming down the steps.
“Where are you going?” She asks worriedly, her night dressings fluttering around her.
“To school,” You say as brightly as you can. She hurries over to you.
“You’re too sick to go to school,”
“I’m feeling fine, mother, really!”
“You can’t go,” she
Not that hated- AmericaxReaderThis was starting to get weird.More Like This
For ten consecutive times in a row, Alfred F. Jones, the personification of America himself, missed out on a social gathering.
Well okay, admittedly, social gathering probably sounds a bit too formal. The other countries weren't having meetings (which he was also frequenting less often); they were just having fun. Going swimming, getting drunk, partying...I thought he'd at least come to the parties. If anyone likes parties, I assured myself, it's America
But I was wrong.
Two things kept me from exploring this any further until now, however.
1. Guilt, as I'd only noticed his absence about the 5th time around.
2. I still saw him at the meetings, even if it wasn't as often, which let me know that he was at least okay.
But even during the meetings, it was like he was a different person. He didn't take charge of the meetings like he used to, spewing his hilariously ridiculous ideas about whatever.
Something was wrong, very wrong.
Not letting you get taken away (EnglandXReader)Huffing slightly, you arrived at the university your boyfriend attended, an important book of his clutched to your chest. You’d texted him the moment you’d spotted he’d left the manual for his English literary course behind, so he knew you were coming with it for him.More Like This
One of your hands wiping away the sweat from your forehead, you straightened up and cracked your back. As your morning lecture had been cancelled, you were still in your pyjamas when Arthur started freaking out about needing his book.
So being the kind and compassionate girlfriend you were, you’d thrown on the closest clothes to hand, slipping some easy shoes on and ran towards his university like a bat out of hell.
“Ar-Arthur....” you muttered as you awkwardly made your way on campus. He went to a different university to you, so the whole place was alien to you. Turning your head this was and that, your lip started trembling as you became more desperate.
The strange looks from the othe
You're not alone. UsUk one shotAlfred watched Arthur's eyes widen as he saw him standing in the door way, head completely shaved. “A-Alfred?” Arthur had been diagnosed with cancer three years ago and was now in the hospital, he had just gone through chemo-therapy again.More Like This
Alfred looked at him and smiled. “I'm not going to let you go through this alone...” He walked over and pulled Arthur into his arms. He loved the other so much and he couldn't stand that the doctors had told him Arthur only had about a month to. Alfred placed his forehead on Arthur's back, tears falling from his eyes. “You'll never be alone...”
Arthur felt the tears on his back. “Alfred? What did the doctor tell you?”
Alfred shook his head. “Nothing, I'm just worried...” He lied to the other. He wanted him to spend his last few weeks happy and not worried about what day he was going to die.
Arthur cupped his cheeks and kissed him. “Alfie I'm gonna be okay?”
Alfred had to hold bac
Tell Me You Love Me [ England x Reader ]More Like This
"How have you been, love~?" England’s voice rang through [Name]’s head, causing her to briefly shut her eyes. He asked [Name] everyday how she was feeling, almost every time he saw her. Quite frankly, it was beginning to annoy her.
Ignoring his presence, she began to walk home. The meeting today had been especially difficult to sit through; all she wanted now was to sit down on her couch and watch some mindless TV, anything to calm her stressed mind and pounding headache.
"I’m fine, England." [Name] replied casually, not giving him the satisfaction of a more elaborate answer. His smile didn’t fade; Instead he continued to ask her his daily questions.
"What are you doing now, love?"
"Not seeing that frog Francis, right?"
"Or that bloody git Alfred?"
"Your house is here, right?"
Stunned, [Name] turned to face him. She was hoping that if she kept walking past her house, he would eventually get bored with her endless wand
Stargazing -- GerItaIt had taken all day (or rather all evening, since they had not begun their trek until well into the afternoon) to work their way through the forest trail. The way the warm sun dappled the greenery around them with spots of light as it slowly set over the horizon was stunningMore Like This
that is, would have been stunning, if there wasn't an exhausted and fidgety Italian latched onto Ludwig's arm (and one that was very vocal about his condition, no less).
"Ludwig, are we there yet? I'm tired and my feet hurt!" It was safe to say that such statements had become a mantra for the Italian, considering he wouldn't go more than three minutesand Ludwig had timed such occurrences at this pointwithout saying something to that effect.
"Not yet. Just a bit more, I promise." And the German had replied the same way each timenot that it had done much to halt the complaints. Ludwig knew that Feliciano had never been one for hiking. Actually, he was sure most outdoor activities were o
Cutter!PrussiaxReader - Butterfly"G...gah!" A soft careful gasp in the night. The moon shone delicately on the silver blade, now slightly reddened by the scarlet of blood. The very same shade as the wielders eyes. Across his wrist was a shallow red stream, a singular cut. The scarlet blood fell onto the ground almost noiselessly.More Like This
"Who can ever love me?"
Gilbert Beilschmidt walked to his locker, wearing his usual black hoodie. On the back was the Iron Cross, something he got hell from for it's usage during World War Two and the years before. It didn't help he was German, Prussian to be specific. Speaking of the hell he got, cue another paper ball at his head. He turned slightly, facing some of the local bullies.
"It would be appreciated if you would stop doing that. If I get in another fight, I'm going to get expelled." He said bluntly, almost like what Leon would say.
"Yeah, so what? You're a Nazi and always will be!"
"If I was, there would be a swastika on my back, not an Iron Cross. In case you didn't kno