(F/N) = First Name
(L/N) = Last Name
(Y/n) = Your name
(H/c) = Hair color
(B/n) = Bunny name (You have a stuffed bunny)
(Y/n) woke up from a light slumber. A second was spent questioning why she was awake, and then the jiggling of keys in the door was heard.
Father was home.
(Y/n) jumped out of bed, and pushed a chair against her bedroom door. Sometimes he came into her room…When he came home this late—her clock read two a.m. right now—he was angry. He had been drinking that gross stuff that makes him mean and angry—he called it a lot of different names, like beer or vodka. But it was all the same, it all turned him into a monster that hurt the three-year-old.
She was smart enough to realize when he smelled and came home late, she was usually hurt.
But not always. Sometimes he wouldn’t come into her room, just head straight to bed. Or if he did come into her
"Hey, Antonio, can I ask you a question?" you said, looking up at your husband of three years. You were sitting on a couch with your head in his lap, watching television.
"Hm? Sure, __________! Ask away~!" he replied, flashing you his signature smile.
You let out a small giggle. He was adorable.
"Do you remember the first time we met?" he brushed a strand of (h/l) (h/c) hair away from your face, and stroked your cheek.
"Of course I do," he said, with a soothing tone in his voice.
"It went like this:"
You were sitting in a warm lodge style café, searching through your large (f/c) messenger bag.
"Ugh! Where did I put the apartment address ." You mumbled, as your eyebrows pulled together in concer
Austro-Hungarian Empire Group:
Germanic Language Family:
House of Savoy:
"_______!" he piped in his Spanish accent. "How've you been?" He tipped his wide-brimmed hat, making you giggle.
"Just fine, Toni. Even better now that you're here!" You had moved in a couple years back, and had started gardening as a hobby. Growing tomatoes was hard at first, but Antonio seemed to arrive at just the right moment to lend a hand. Things were much easier now than when you started out. Not to mention the tomatoes added a nice little income in addition to your part-time job, which made it all the easier to get food on the table.
"Ah, bien, bien!" he crowed, smiling cheerfully as always. He got down on one knee. "And how is the little tomate?"
The seven-year-old boy had been clinging to you ever since Antonio arrived, and now his amber eyes glowered at him from behind dark brown bangs. "Get out of my house, you son of a
“(y/n), would you like to come listen to me play the piano?” Roderich’s voice asked. You smiled and nodded.
“I know you’re upset….” He began as he led you to the music room.
“about what?” you asked and pretended to not understand him.
“You envy zhe other countries for their ability to walk and run” Roderich bluntly told you.
“that’s not it” you murmured
“Don’t lie to me, I know its zhe truth. I can see it in your eyes, (y/n)” Roderich muttered
“I’m sorry Roderich.” You smiled as he stopped your wheelchair and gently lifted you up and sat you on the piano bench. You looked at him oddly.
“It’s not possible.”
“Oh, ja, it is!” Gilbert retorted to Ludwig and _____ as they sat in the airport, waiting for their luggage.
_____ rolled her eyes. “Gil, it’s impossible. There is absolutely no way you can put your entire fist in your mouth.”
“Ja, there is! Watch this!” As promised, Gilbert executed the stunt, inserting his fist gracelessly into his mouth, and winning the cheers of his best friends Antonio and Francis. Contorting his jaw, he managed to slip his fist back out and wipe his saliva off onto his pant leg.
Ludwig face-palmed. “Mein Gott. What is wrong with mein bruder?”
“Oh, he’s not that bad,” assured _____, putting her hand on his shoulder.
He stiffened at this, and blushed when her hand remained there. He had had feelings for her for some time now, and he would be confused whenever his heart fluttered at the very thought of her. He had once ev