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the-daylight-here · 5 years

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I've got a fun idea if you're up for it! The reader (or a character of your choosing) and America have both been kidnapped by England, who wants to protect his "family" (feel free to make it parental or romantic) from the horrors of the outside world, and never ever let them leave. The reader/character is trying to find a way out, but Alfred's already starting to succumb to England's wishes despite his wishes to be the hero.

||i’m sorry my adhd medication went missing so i haven’t posted anything and haven’t been able to write,,,,,

You’d been friends with Alfred as long as you could remember. He always played the hero in your childish games, and you often played the villain or prince(ss). You often switched with Matt, but you were a way better villain. “Why is Al always the hero?” Matt asked one day. You shrugged.

“Because he won’t play if he isn’t the hero.”

“That doesn’t make it fair.”

“No, but he’s kinda scary when he’s mad.”

You and Matt shared a begrudging smile as you leaned against one another. When you weren’t playing games with Al, you and Matt would read things out of your storybook. You wanted these days to last forever. With your ‘aunt’ and her children. With Al and Matt, not having to know what came next.

Unfortunately, the best-laid plans often are spoiled.

Your caretaker, who solely went by ‘Auntie’ to the three of you, had taken the three of you on a trip to London. She said she was visiting a friend, and that you three could come with her. You were staying at the friend’s house with Auntie and Al, while Matt got to spend with ‘Big Brother’ Francis. You tended to shy away from the flamboyant man, and Al was probably still mad at him for one reason or another.

+++++++++++++++++++++++

It turns out that the only reason the ‘friend’ of Auntie had called upon her was to kidnap you and Alfred. It’d been about three years, and Auntie had died within the first two weeks, suddenly falling extremely ill. You and Al were devastated, but you found a place to direct your anger. Alfred didn’t realize it, but the green-eyed man that took you in had probably been the reason she died. The man had introduced himself as Arthur, although he seemed to prefer ‘big brother’.

You didn’t realize it immediately, but as time went on, your reflection seemed to point in that direction. He kept the two of you on the property and homeschooled the both of you, only leaving to check on his business every once in a while. Whenever you asked if you could at least attend school, he only ever told you no. Whenever he held parties, you and Al were hidden away into your rooms, and most damning of all, he seemed to dance around the topic of Auntie’s death, not even seeming particularly sad about it.

As time went on, you withdrew from the games that Arthur and Alfred played, and began reading older horror novels. Arthur would always insist that you weren’t old enough, or that they were too scary for you, but you hardly listened. For some reason, the terror within the books gave you comfort, an ‘away’ from your reality.

You and Alfred were probably fifteen when Arthur threw the first party the two of you were allowed to attend.

+++++++++++++++++++++

For those who tend to be a bit more feminine in regards to how you identify:

You were dressed in a long dress that stopped around your ankles, with lacy sleeves and it was a light shade of (f/c).

For those who tend to identify as more masculine:

You wore a (f/c) and grey suit. It fit you well and was probably a bit more fashion-forward compared to Al’s and Arthur’s.

++++++++++++++++++++++++

Al dressed in a simple, sleek black and blue suit. Arthur was proud to introduce the two of you as his wonderful younger siblings, adopted or not. You regretted not telling Al of your plan to escape, but he trusted Arthur too much.

“May I have this dance?” you heard a soft voice ask from behind you. You turn and smile politely. “Sure, why not?” you reply, looking into a pair of familiar, violet irises. You hadn’t seen Matt in years, but the tone of voice and the way he looked at you hadn’t changed. His hair was a little more well kept, and he had a slimmer frame than his brother, but he still looked like the kid you knew.

You let him lead as you chat and catch up, laughing at old jokes. You mention nothing of your plan and Arthur walks over, a hard-to-read smile on his face. You force a smile as you introduce the pair, moving slightly behind Matthew. This was going to be difficult.

“(Y/n), you seem rather close to this young man.”

“We grew up together. He was in France when Auntie passed.”

“Yeah; I miss spending time with you and Alfred. I’m glad my brother got invited this time.”

“Oh, are you Francis’ little brother?”

“Yeah. He keeps complaining about how you keep trying to buy his business.”

Matt laughs, and you genuinely smile for the first time in a while. He wasn’t particularly shy, but soft-spoken and often ignored. At least, that’s how he seemed at that point. As a child, he would often let you or Alfred do things or talk to people for him until he felt brave enough to himself. He seems to have grown out of that. Being around Matt had calmed you in your previously, as it did at that moment.

Your attempted escape that night didn’t work.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

You knew you needed Alfred’s help to get out, as well as Matt’s.

You spent most of the next couple of years planning and scheming. You knew the house almost better than Arthur. The grounds were easy to navigate. You knew where to hide, what boards creaked, where you could fit that others couldn’t.

Matt was a good accomplice. Alfred would take convincing.

You sat at the breakfast table quietly. You held a copy of Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland as you looked at Arthur and Alfred. Arthur had made some eggs, but you knew better than to eat them. You instead cut some bread and put jam on it as you curled in your chair.

“Arthur, why aren’t we allowed to leave?” you questioned quietly, knowing he’d respond the same way he always would.

“(Y/n), we’ve been over this. You two aren’t to leave because the outside world is horrific. It will ruin you both.”

“I think you’re coddling us. I read about old serial killers for fun, Arthur, because I can’t even get on the internet without you watching my every move.”

“(Y/n), he’s just worried about us. Especially since Auntie passed.”

You rubbed your temples in exasperation. Alfred was delusional to a fault when it came to Arthur’s word. You needed to find Auntie’s will, knowing she would’ve had very specific instruction for your care. She probably wrote it on her deathbed, and Arthur could’ve destroyed it or hidden it, depending on what the woman had written. Either the will or its ashes would be located in his office. “Whatever. Believe what you want.”

Excusing yourself, you went to Arthur’s office and started carefully rifling through it. Your natural instinct was to just chuck everything off the shelves, but you didn’t need to. Tapping on one of Arthur's drawers revealed a fake bottom, judging from the sound it made.

“This man needs to up his hiding game,” you muttered as you felt the bottom for a latch or hole. When you managed to get it open, you found a hefty pile of documents. Not thick enough to warrant you carrying it in your arms, but just thick enough for you to be cautious about how the hell were you going to fit it in your bag without it being noticeable.

You put the drawer back together and managed to be sliding the monstrous tome from that morning back into place.

“Finally finished that one, hm?”

“Yes. It provided some interesting insight, for nonsense and an odd story.”

“I hope you use it wisely.”

“I will.”

#yandere blog #yandere imagines #platonic yandere #yandere #yandere hetalia #yandere aph #yandere arthur kirkland #yandere england #yandere britain

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