#hetalia Tumblr posts

  • jesswithane
    18.10.2021 - 8 minutes ago

    France: Cher, can we talk?

    Canada, writing something: Sure 

    France: England and I are worried 

    Canada: About Al? I did warn him that there’s no way that clowns are hiding in the woods, but you know how he is at this time of year

    England: What? 

    France: No no. Not about Alfred. About you, Matthieu 

    Canada:...What about me?

    France: You seem more cynical recently 

    England: Yes, we’re a bit concerned...also, what about clowns?

    Canada: Al says there's a commune of evil clowns living in the woods and he needs to kill them before they get us 

    France: Arthur, focus! Matthieu, are you alright? 

    Canada: I’m better than the clowns 

    France:...I’m gonna go on a quick walk for air, but when I come back we’re going to talk about this new attitude 

    Canada: ?! What did I do?! 

    England: Yes, that seems like a good idea. Maybe we should get some bats to ward off the clowns while out

    France:.....I’m starting to see where Alfred gets it 

    Canada, muttering: Al gets to be crazy but I tell on him and I get berated. Hoosiers.   

    #hetalia#hws canada#hws america#hws france#hws england #hws face family #tw clowns #idk this was funny at the time #i like sarcastic canada #makes the day go faster
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  • yanxidarlings
    18.10.2021 - 14 minutes ago
    #yandere hetalia#yandere germany #yandere aph germany #yandere aph headcanons #yandere aph #yandere hetalia headcanons #my headcanons
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  • infusions-and-truths
    18.10.2021 - 15 minutes ago

    There are rumors on the battlefield. One that every construct and commandant knows and prays to their God that they will never encounter the Ascendant who sings. Bearing the mark of white lilies and golden eyes that stares straight into your souls.

    The higher-ups, the ones that have lived passed through countless attacks, speaks of a construct that can do no harm. Who's smiles were the brightest and their innocence was the driving force of so many people to protect humanity.

    But no one really answered what become of them...

    Only to find out in the battlefield when soldiers, humans and constructs, alike find themselves staring straight at Him.

    NEW PFP ALERT <3 I HAD THIS COMMISSIONED FROM AN IRL OF MINE- PLEASE FOLLOW THEM ON TWITTER RIGHT HERE
    might also be collabing with them and a few of our friends to create a hetagame <3 featuring the aseans, details tba when we finish up what we need to finish but yea!! there there!
    #hws north italy #Punishing Gray Raven AU #new profile pic time #GOD MY FRIEND DID SUCH A GOOD JOB #<3333 #URGH URGH RUGH #THE URGE TO TALK ABOUT THIS AU IS SO LARGE #BECAUSE ITS ONE OF MY FIRST HETALIA AUS #AND ITS SO GODDAMN COOL IN MY HEAD #AND TO SEE MY BABY IN FRONT OF ME IS URGH- #gotta commission my friends more <3 #yuuno spills ink
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  • another-mexico-oc
    18.10.2021 - 33 minutes ago

    My first Fanfic!

    Hey guys! How´s it going? Mun´s here! Sorry for my absence and for not answering the askbox. These two months have been busy and stressful. But guess what, I had the inspiration for writing my first Hetalia fanfic! It´s going to be about my Mexico OC and I´m going to publish it on AO3, and perhaps on Fanfiction.net. And... it´s going to be written in spanish, my mother language ... Yeah. But I think there will be not problem if you activate the translators on your devices, even though these don´t always work the right way.

    Anyway, I already have some planned chapters, and the prologue and first chapter are almost complete. I´ll send you the link when it´s already published, and I hope you can give it a chance. I promise you that, based on my headcanons, this is going to be a completely different story from what you have already read or seen. See you later guys! ❤️

    Hola gente! Cómo han estado? Siento mucho mi ausencia y por no haber respondido a las preguntas del askbox. Han sido dos mes ocupados y estresantes. Pero adivinen qué. He tenido la inspiración para escribir mi primer fanfic de Hetalia! Se va a tratar de mi OC de México, y lo voy a publicar en AO3, y quizá en Fanfiction.net. Y va a estar escrito en español! Ya tengo algunos capítulos planeados y el prólogo y el primer capítulo ya están casi listos. Les enviaré el enlace cuando estén publicados, y espero que le den una oportunidad. Les prometo que, basado en mis headcanons, ésta va a ser una historia completamente diferente a lo que ya han leído o visto. Nos vemos pronto! ❤️

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  • jesswithane
    18.10.2021 - 1 hour ago

    America, upside down on a hotel lobby couch: If you haven’t started or joined a cult at least once, what are you actually doing with your life

    England: What do you mean you joined a cult?? 

    America: One started, one joined. Different eras my dude. 

    England:...where did i go wrong 

    Canada: To be fair, i almost started one in the 1990s. It’s fairly easy to do by accident

    England: It’s really not!

    Francis: mm, no, wait, hold on, i think i started a cult post-French revolution once 

    England: Stop 

    Romano: I wouldn’t call it a cult,  but by today standards, yeah, Once. 

    America: Maybe you’re just lame, England 

    England:...i hate you all so much I may just start a cult in spite 

    America: Be free, Old Sheltered One 

    #hetalia#hws america#hws england#hws canada#hws france#hws romano#tw cults #kinda a reference to hippie alfred #sometimes i like thinking england struggles #and canada is along for the ride
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  • aph-greeting
    18.10.2021 - 1 hour ago
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  • needcake
    18.10.2021 - 1 hour ago

    whumptober2021, day 17: hemorrhage

    .

    .

    “I’m not touching that.”

    Cymru glared at his sister.

    “Oh, don’t give me that look. Wee lad did this to himself.” Cymru looked pointedly at the bow in her hand and the arrow stuck on the kid’s thigh. Éire sighed. “Alright, alright.”

    She knelt down beside the boy and scrunched up her nose as she assessed the damage. Both Cymru and the lad looked worriedly at her.

    “Is it bad?” her brother asked, but she chose to ignore him for now.

    “Do you have any family around these parts, boy?” she asked and he shook his head. “Any kin at all?” The boy shook his head again.

    “Maybe he got lost,” Cymru tried and she ignored him again.

    “What about your tribe? Folks that look and speak like you?”

    The boy with the deep forest eyes and the golden hair pressed his lips together, didn’t utter a sound. Éire sighed heavily and looked at the arrow stuck on his flesh. If she pulled it out he would bleed out in a few hours. Even if he did tell them where his kind was, they would never get there on time, even with her fastest horse.

    “Alright,” she decided. “What’s your name, kid?”

    It took him a few seconds, but he finally let out a shaky, “… They call me Albion.”

    She nodded, wrapped her hand around the arrow. “Alright, Albion. This is going to hurt.” To her brother, she turned and said, “Cymru, run ahead and tell Alba we’re bringing in a wee one.”

    “Ahm?” Cymru frowned at her. “What exactly are you doing?”

    Éire winked at him. “It’ll make it easier to carry him.”

    Little Albion’s eyes grew comically large and Cymru opened his mouth to protest. But it was too late. The arrow had already been pulled. The blood was already gushing out.

    Either the pain or the sight of his own blood squirting out of a hole in his thigh made the boy pass out. Cymru glared at his sister.

    “What?” she asked innocently, gathering her bow and quiver, and pulling the boy’s small body over her shoulder like it was nothing, getting blood all over her green cape. “You wanted me to handled it. I handled it.”

    Cymru closed his mouth with a snap.

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  • aph-greeting
    18.10.2021 - 1 hour ago
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  • lavi-guesan
    18.10.2021 - 1 hour ago

    sorry for my artblock

    sketch of Ezechiele, my oc of Vatican city (it's actually The Holy See, but it's hard to explain my idea about that haha)

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  • aph-greeting
    18.10.2021 - 2 hours ago
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  • needcake
    18.10.2021 - 2 hours ago

    whumptober2021, day 16: aftermath

    .

    .

    He sees it as their boat comes closer to the shore.

    He does not takes his eyes away from it as their men pull the boat into the beach, as Portugal and the Governor of Goa step out into the shallows, as his own Governor of Surat welcomes them into the city.

    Portugal stands by his Governor’s side, his arm immobilized, half of his face covered in bandages, his visible eye sunken, tired, glowing with anger. The two government officials make small talk. England does not even listen.

    The two move to walk back to his Governor’s house, where he had ordered that dinner be prepared for his guests.

    He stands in Portugal’s way and both of they stay behind. Portugal glaring at him with his one uncovered eye.

    “Did…” he starts, swallows, his eyes lost on the myriad of bruises and cuts and abrasions he can see now that they are closer. “Did one of mine do this?” he asks quietly, lifts his hand, hovers it over the sling that protects his arm.

    Portugal pulls away from his touch. “Ned’s,” he says and the dry tone he uses to utter that single word sounds harsher than if he had yelled the name. England searches his face.

    “Port, I…”

    Portugal does not wait for him to finish. He sidesteps him and follows along the dock in the direction their Governors had gone to. England closes his hand, still hovering in the air, into a fist.

                                                                   -

    Dinner is a formal affair. He glances at Portugal as the food is served, but mostly he focuses on the discussion between the two officials. The agreement that the English would stop harassing Iberian shipping, especially Portuguese shipping, has already been drafted and will be signed later over cognac, but, in the meanwhile, the two talk about other matters as well.

    The on-going war between the Spanish and the Dutch in Europe. The decline of maritime trade. Dutch incursions against Portuguese Malacca.

    The Governor of Goa smiles at his Governor’s prying questions, and deviates the subject when it comes too close to the state secrets under his protection. The Governor of Surat lets his eyes linger on Portugal, and complies. Both skirting around the elephant in the room, dancing with each other throughout the night.

                                                                  -

    “You understand, of course,” he overhears the Governor of Surat say to his counterpart, both men leaning on the big open windows of the manor, watching the waves at the distant beach. “That none of this is strictly speaking ‘official’.”

    “Of course,” the Governor of Goa says and raises his glass.

    “There would be no need for any of this if Portugal were an independent nation…” his Governor’s voice trails off, and the Portuguese Governor sighs. England looks at Portugal sitting stiffly by the door, nursing his own drink and staring at the bottom of his glass.

    “Do you want a refill?” he asks, walking closer to him, leaving the older gentlemen to their quiet conversation. Portugal shakes his head without looking up, his lips pursed. England sits on a chair near his, watches for his signs of discomfort at the proximity and relaxes when he finds none. “I hear the Portuguese garrison was able to rebut the attacks on the Malaccan fortress.”

    “I don’t want to talk.”

    He bites his cheek, looks away, drinks his cognac.

    By the window their Governors talk like old friends. He cannot help the bitter taste of irony that sits on his tongue.

    He looks over at Portugal again. All he sees is his bandaged profile. A fine stubble that covers his jaw, his tanned skin after months and years sailing to this part of the world. Over one knee he holds his glass, only a shrunken layer of amber covering the bottom. And on his lap, held between his thumb and forefinger, an old St. George’s medallion, which he rubs absentmindedly.

    “It needs a good polish,” he comments lightly, ignoring the way his heart skips, how his hands itch.

    Portugal turns the medallion in his fingers. “It almost got me killed,” he says pensively, quietly. “Almost lost an eye trying to get it back.”

    He looks at the bandages around his head and swallows. He has words he wants to say, things that he wants to share, ideas, thoughts that have crept up on him during these last fifty years since the Spanish King inherited the Portuguese throne. But it all clogs at the base of his throat. Heavy and sticky.

    He would rather have Portugal yell at him. Explode in his face for every Portuguese carrack the English sunk and pillaged and stole. He would rather have him angry and loud so that England could yell back in his face. Tell him of every bit of resentment he still keeps in his heart, of every night spent awake, thinking of where everything had gone wrong.

    Instead they had this, they had now. They had all of this heavy silence that sat in the narrow space between their chairs.

    “Here,” Portugal says and puts the medallion on his hand, downs the rest of his drink. “You can have it.”

    It feels warm. Both St. George and the dragon blackened with soot, the chain attached to it broken at the clasp. Portugal gets up from his chair with difficulty, the side of his mouth he can see twists downwards in a grimace.

    His Governor looks back at them and acquiesces to his silent request, says his good-byes to the Governor of Surat, finishes his drink.

    England is still staring at the medallion in his hand, feeling his chin tremble, a burn rising from his clogged throat to his eyes.

    “It was gift, Port,” he whispers quietly.

    “Then throw it into the ocean. I don’t care.”

    The Governor of Goa helps him out of the room, he and his Governor offer each other safe passage in their respective waters and ports, their unfinished plans for more dinners linger in the air.

    He watches his friend limp out of the Governor’s manor. Closes his hand around the medallion. Cries when the door closes after they leave.

    -

    Notes:

    After the death of King Sebastian I, Portugal fell into a succession crisis and Philip II of Spain inherited the Portuguese throne, joining the two countries into the Iberian Union (1580-1640). During this time, both England and the Dutch preyed on Portuguese and Spanish shipping, especially in the Indian Ocean in order to control the spice trade.

    In 1629 the Aceh Sultanate sent a few hundred ships to take back Portuguese Malacca, but the mission failed. Malacca would only leave Portuguese rule in 1641, after the Aceh allied forces with the Johor Sultanate and the Dutch, allowing the Dutch to expand their influence and power over the region (present-day Indonesia).

    In 1630, the Governors of Goa and Surat met and agreed to stop hostilities between their two navies. The English by this point had already taken over the base in Hormuz and had replaced Portugal as the dominant power in the Indian subcontinent.

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  • purple-iris
    18.10.2021 - 2 hours ago

    Romano and Québec~

    They are in love your honour [click for better quality]

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  • ecuperweek
    18.10.2021 - 2 hours ago

    Continuando con la cuenta regresiva, faltan 4 días para empezar con la EcuPerWeek2021 🇵🇪❤🇪🇨.  Esta ilustración es cortesía de @eclover908~

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  • tyiaunia-harris
    18.10.2021 - 2 hours ago

    Aph New Brunswick 📷☕🖋🚲

    Name: Nelson Brady Williams Age: 154 (physically 15 year's old) Personality: Smart, Chill, Soft spoken. Nelson is a very kind and quiet person who mostly enjoys his times playing baseball with his friends, reading books, taking pictures, playing basketball, skiing or playing with his dog Ginger. Nelson is also captain of his school's soccer team and in his freetime writes poems. Nelson enjoys bike rides to local parks and visiting a Café for some coffee. His favorite flowers are Sunflowers and roses, he also enjoys the fall weather. Nelson has stuff animals that where gifted to him by Matthew for his 5th birthday. Nelson has a pet wolf named Louve, a black-capped chickadee named Poussin and a dog named Champ. Nelson is very shy and keeps to himself so he's mostly on his phone chatting with his teammates and friends, though he will open up if you meation any of his favorite hockey or NBA teams. Nelson also likes to take pictures of his travels around his country and when visiting friends and family overseas. Nelson favorite qpute to live by is "Vivez la vie pleinement". Qountes: "Putain, ne fais pas ça !" (If someone scares him or catches him off guard) "We did it, we're the best! (To his teammates whenever they win championship games) Facts: knows English, French, Spanish, Arabic, Chinese, Korean, German and plenty of other's. Aph New Brunswick 📷☕🖋🚲

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  • peacyzephyr
    18.10.2021 - 2 hours ago

    Kinktober Day Seventeen

    Kink: Genital Piercing Pairing: Nyo!England/Nyo!Canada Warnings: None Read on AO3

    “Look at how cute it is.” Victoria hummed at she looked at the piercing between Audette’s legs that was finally healed and ready to play with. It had been a long pause on their sex life but Victoria was more than happy to wait it out. Though Audette had taken to the abstinence a lot less. Despite her outward appearance of innocence, Audette’s libido was intense.

    But even with her impatience and the much more intense sensitivity, Audette had listened to Victoria and refrained from touching herself, letting the piercing heal completely. Audette sat still on the bed as Victoria looked it over, a little flushed and more than eager. She kept her legs spread, showing off the silver, ‘u’-shaped piercing , and resisted the urge to grind herself against the mattress.

    “You’re rather wet,” Victoria couldn’t help but point it out. It always amused her just how ready Audette was always. She really couldn’t have asked for anything better. She loved how eager she was, she could say the same about Amelia.

    “I can’t help it!” Audette huffed. “It’s been so long, I need you so bad.” She was sick of being patient.

    Victoria couldn’t help but laugh. “Of course, darling. I’ve made you wait long enough.” She urged her onto her back and had her hook her arms around her knees to hold her legs open. It was a pretty sight for certain, her pussy pink and wet and her clit glinting with a pretty ring, marking her as Victoria’s cute little pet.

    Squirting some lube onto her fingers, Victoria brought them to Audette’s hole, pressing three in without hesitation. She knew how impatient her darling could be. Knew she could take her fingers and then some in one go. She gave an appreciative hum as Audette clenched around her fingers and she crooked them forward, quickly locating her g-spot and targeting it.

    Audette was quickly reduced to a puddle of shaky moans and cries, pussy twitching and beginning to drip at every touch and stroke. Her thighs shook a little in her grasp and she pressed her hips up with a needy whine. She had always been sensitive, so she was eager to see just how the new piercing affected her sensations.

    Victoria watched as Audette squirmed and began to pant and continued to target where she knew Audette would like. And then her spare hand was against her clit, fingers gently tugging the piercing, drawing out a loud cry. She placed her thumb flat against her clit and began to rub in slow circular motions, pulling every moan and whimper from her. She could feel her blood pounding beneath the skin and focused her attention on both spots, knowing she was intent on making a mess out of her pretty pet.

    “Cum when you need, darling. You know you don’t have to hold yourself back.” Victoria cooed, speeding up the motions of bother hands, delighting in the way she twitched and squirmed. It never took much to get Audette to cum, with how sensitive she was and lord was she fun to overstimulate. To keep going after she pulled orgasm after orgasm out of her.

    Audette nearly sobbed with every touch and her clit was throbbing and she was going to cum, fuck, fuck fuck- It was intense and within moments Victoria’s hands were soaked as liquid poured from her and her hips jerked. Victoria worked her through it and eased her movements to a stop to give her a moment. “Ready to go again, dearest? It’s been so long after all.”

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  • honeyvamp
    18.10.2021 - 2 hours ago

    The absolute depravity of having a comment made to your fandom account and having to use your normie main to respond.

    Disgusting.

    #Tumblr #My main is artiscats btw #Is my cat art collection that was a Hetalia fan account a million years ago
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  • i-fucking-h8-communism
    18.10.2021 - 3 hours ago

    Witchy england draft

    The backgrounds supposed to be a forest in case u couldn't tell

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  • i-fucking-h8-communism
    18.10.2021 - 3 hours ago

    Steampunk nyotalia

    I always over saturate it -_- and the background is always lazy

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