I do not own Hetalia or its characters.
Forgiveness ('Re-first Kiss' prompt from Mieu)
"Forgiveness always entails a sacrifice—the final form of love, forgiveness is to take upon the consequences of what another has done."
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Gilbert had been convinced that dissolution was the worst kind of torment he had gone through in his life; new wounds erupted over older ones—deep, ugly gashes tore open of their own accord, showing white bone that shattered and broke with a sickening wet crunch as his people and lands were torn from him—not even the still, raw, angry and festering hole that had been flesh and muscle over the literal charred remains of his heart. However, at present, the Prussian was battling a flood of horrific memories that refused to leave him, unceasing agony that came in waves—it hurt to even breathe; more so than when he had been afflicted with the plague in the past—and ill health.
Except that he had to be the most wretched of fortune's kindness and was proven wrong right now and ever since the day he came home from behind the wall.
None of his injuries since the Second World War had healed; most remained in various stages of fester—it was amazing that he had yet to die from blood poisoning, nation avatar or not—especially the horrific burns from Königsberg, Dresden and Berlin.
He had been kept healthy enough to remain on his feet and work for the very nation he loathed, but nowhere near enough for recovery. Not that the Prussian could blame the accursed Soviets, even if seriously injured or pushed to the point where most nation avatars would have cracked, Gilbert was one still capable of causing mayhem and destruction that would put the devil to shame. It was only logical to hence keep the albino in a weakened state, thus he had been forced to do ridiculous tasks that he had no wish to do—how was he to adhere to the production demand without any factories as someone had conveniently shifted all his means of manufacturing away—sapping away any desire to work at all, brutally destroying any resistance—that was not new, seeing the violence handed down to the other states that tried to revolt—only that the albino always landed himself in trouble due to his stubborn streak (admittedly he took on the would have been punishments of others at times), and many more he did not feel like reminiscing at all.
Then again, at that time, and even now, he would have made the same decision to take his brother's place. Like hell he would sentence his younger sibling to more suffering, never mind that he was close to death, Gilbert refused to allow a repeat of his younger sibling passing before his eyes helplessly. Besides, he was only going to burden Ludwig, not to mention the fact that the younger nation avatar was…
'I know he did not mean it. But it does not make them any less painful; having to be hated and spat on by your sibling you practically raised from infancy.'
Perhaps it was why Arthur had mocked him; insulted him in his cold cell before it was time to leave for unspeakably harsh territory—a stupid, sentimental, weak fool that was consumed by unredeemable malice and hate—for reasons other than Gilbert knew would have been in the Brit's mind had the sandy blonde known the truth.
Nevertheless, some truths were better left as lies and vice versa; after having been together, as well as apart from each other, the Prussian could predict perfectly what, how and why the British nation avatar would react in certain circumstances and given factors. This time, it was better that Arthur just despised him as an enemy: being viewed as a villain was nothing new to the albino; it was just an inevitable part of his life, just as he had escaped fading away several times; Gilbert had come to accept that he would have a different fate from others.
Although…he had to admit that it was a bit of a surprise to see both his brother and the Brit waiting for him beyond the wall. Then again, he supposed that collapsing in the middle of a conference warranted enough attention for the both of them to panic. Unless…the both of them had found out the truth and were beating themselves over the past; a very likely reason for their behavior, but as time and the world always proved cruel—nothing, nothing at all could rewind precious time to rewrite a past choice or decision. The law of causality was absolute after all: cause and effect, action and reaction.
It was funny, the former nation avatar swore that there was panic in those eyes; alarm that had not been shown since centuries ago in usually proud emerald irises—Gilbert would have teased Arthur for it, if he had not blacked out from exhaustion. He was so tired then, and if anything, his world seemed to have been built on a merry-go-round; spinning in a whirl of colours and sound that eventually were sucked into a deep, dark void. The dull ache in his chest, which had plagued him for years exploded with agony that had to come straight from hell—as more and more people left, the albino also experience its effects first hand; the telltale sticky, warm feeling of blood pooling around him, the fabric of his worn and tattered uniform clinging to his pathetic shivering self.
Now, something stirred in him to wake up; the stubbornness that had came with him even before he was a proper nation avatar demanded that it was time to stop sleeping, along with the strict discipline that had been a constant in his life barked at his battered self for having become a sluggish lump of flesh and bone.
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Arthur was not very well known for his patience.
Two weeks had passed since Gilbert returned from behind the wall; seated by the still unconscious albino, the Brit had to thank Ludwig for allowing him to stay albeit temporarily—although the nation avatar of Germany did not outright admit it, the cerulean blue eyes that had once welcomed him like a close family friend now had a distant edge. Not that the sandy blonde wanted to overstay his welcome; at least he knew that the German would not throw him out of the house, as the younger nation avatar had put it: "it would be better for you to stay here. Least I storm across the border and cause a diplomatic mess. Besides, I am not so cruel as to not repay past kindness."
Ludwig sure did know how to make his words hurt when he wanted to. Then again, Gilbert was the one who had raised him—what should he have expected from his lover who was capable of skillful and unparalleled manipulation?
He frowned, noticing the unmistakable bright flush of fever on the Prussian's cheeks—the high temperature often spiked—fortunately there was medicine that was able to take care of it rather effectively readily available. What worried the Brit most was the fact that none of the injuries appeared to be healing properly, or at least at a rate considered normal for their kind as nation avatars. Granted, most of them were severe, but…
"I'm just letting my impatience get the better of me…there is only so much medicine and help that his brother and I can offer. The rest is up to time and himself." The Brit muttered quietly, more to himself than to the younger German who was also in the room; dozing away from having stayed awake for almost every night the past week to watch over Gilbert. After a long discussion over how they would work in shifts, it was decided that Ludwig would take watch during the day; with so much work that had to be done due to reunification, the younger nation avatar could not afford to burn out at a time like this.
To tell the truth, the Brit had not made such a decision out of the goodness of his heart entirely—there was still a tiny remnant of resentment and hate from the destruction of his beloved capital. But as a human, as Arthur, he understood that it had not been easy to ask for help; especially for a prideful person like Ludwig, Arthur himself as well. As much as both did not want to admit, they were only tolerating each other for one person in mind.
Several days ago:
"And why, would I go back to possibly face an outburst of your fury, Germany?"
"He called for you by name, cried for you—"
"…Gilbert? He finally woke?"
"Nein. In any case, I have no intention of denying a request of his."
Present time:
Holding a thin, cold hand—Arthur felt his heart clench even more than it already was from regret. Even when afflicted with plague and famine, the albino had never looked as fragile as he did now. It was unbelievable, that someone like Gilbert would ever be described as delicate and frail. The man had always been lean, but not to the point of Yet...here he was, ill, severely wounded and on the precipice of life and death. Unlike in the past where the Brit could sense the overwhelming resolve in the Prussian to survive, this time round however, it was as though Gilbert was choosing between continuing to hang onto the brittle thread of life with his teeth or letting go.
The Brit had to confess, that Ludwig did more or less have the right to snap at him; from the younger nation avatar's view, Arthur had been the one who had pushed for dissolution most strongly. Despite the fact that the two of them had such a long history with each other, the sandy blonde did appear to have severed all ties and abandoned the Prussian. In addition to it all, Gilbert's physical condition had suddenly deteriorated after the wall went down: the albino had slumped to the ground; almost like back during his dissolution, with the exception of screams and cries of agony. Blood bloomed across a once pristine and well fitted uniform that now hung off his emaciated frame like a scarecrow, the unhealthy pallor of his skin drained even further, and the Prussian had mimicked the stillness only a corpse could pull off. It only stood to reason that Ludwig had rudely kicked him out of the house.
Arthur had not needed to ask Ludwig if Gilbert showed any sign of improvement; a more taciturn behavior than usual, unkempt and disheveled appearance in manner of dress, a face that spoke of sleepless nights-former enemies or not, the Brit was still a gentleman and knew how to read the atmosphere of the situation at hand.
"For how long do you intend to keep sleeping...? Do you not know that so many have waited for you to come back?" The sandy blonde murmured softly, trying to warm the albino's cold hands with his.
"Isn't…this the part…where the sleeping princess…gets a kiss…?" Eyelids fluttering open, a weak grin forming on his pale face—Arthur blinked, thinking that this was just an illusion formed in his mind from his wish to see the Prussian awake. However, when he felt the familiar soft squeeze of his hand as reassurance; just as the albino had when he first regained consciousness after overcoming the plague, the Brit intuitively knew that it was not a dream. Letting out a choked chuckle, the sandy blonde returned the grin with a wry smile.
"Just hurry up and get well soon, git…" The former pirate half-growled, brushing away stray strands of silvery hair from Gilbert's face. While it was a welcome relief that the Prussian was lucid, the fact that he was still shivering despite the several layers of blankets on him was worrying. As if to prove his point right, a cough tore itself out from the albino's throat, the sound harsh and like a firecracker going off in the room. "I'll be staying here for a while—provided that your sibling decides to let me extend my presence here."
"As if…you would…let him chase you…off. My elder sister…could not even…stop you from barging…into the church…just to visit me."
While the Brit made no verbal response to that statement, the twitch of his eyebrows and lips were sufficient proof that the words were true. He leaned forward, pressed his lips against Gilbert's softly in a sweet kiss. It was a small action—almost insignificant like any other kiss—but carried a heavy promise behind it.
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11th November 1918, WWI officially ends.
18th January 1919, Paris Peace Conference—German delegates were not invited.
28th June 1919,The Treaty of Versailles is signed—setting the foundation for the rise of a Second World War…
"I still disagree on the terms of that treaty. It will lead us—all of us into a Second Great War."
Seated on a wheelchair, a thick bandage over his left eye and a long strip of gauze wrapped around his neck—the binding covered the skin above the collar of his uniform shirt completely, and also continued further below. Both his hands were wrapped with bloodied bandages that started from his fingertips, all the way up around his wrists and it did not take much to guess that the dressings extended up beyond the cuff of the sleeves. Gilbert, by extension; the nation of Prussia, was a wreck—at least, his physical body was. "That sentence would have been more useful months ago than it is now." He muttered flatly, leaning against the rest of the seat.
Like the fateful Christmas Eve of 1914, Arthur found himself conversing with Gilbert; this time, the war had finally ended. Or at least, the war had only ended on the surface with the military forces of all nations involved having withdrawn back to their respective positions. The Brit had encountered a fair bit of difficulty in trying to locate the Prussian—the albino had to be carried off due to the harrowing amount of damage dealt to him during the course of the signing; funny how just one treaty, a mere pledge on paper and the signature of a few people could result in the near death of a nation avatar these days. However, that was the harsh reality of the world these days, just as empires rose and fell, and the sun would rise in the east and set in the west…beings like them could also be reduced to a nothing in mere moments.
"You know I had not much of a say in it—even my people and leaders agree that it was a rather vindictive treaty. However, we all want an end to the war; it all boils down satisfying and compromising with each other to achieve a common goal."
A snort—more like the sound of a harsh bark of cynical laughter that was caught in his throat—left the Prussian. Once lively crimson eyes that sparkled with a relish for life were dulled with bleak emptiness, almost resignation towards what the future held for him. "Is that Arthur I hear, or the words of the United Kingdom? If a chain of hatred, no, a chain of causality could be so easily broken, the world would be a much happier place. Or perhaps not, as the avarice in man would find ways to exploit whatever weaknesses they find to their advantage."
"Whoever thought that I had the most bitter and acrid of personalities obviously hasn't met you," the sandy blonde chuckled, as though the topic at hand was about the weather, the Brit seemed relaxed and poised; betraying the seriousness and worry inside. It was not worry for the albino, but the truth behind the Prussian's words—they made too much sense.
"No one wants to be the first to break the chain of causality. To do so, its not in our nature as nations." Gilbert murmured, the words so soft, they seemed to be more like a self-reminder over a trivial matter. "Forgiveness always entails a sacrifice—to forgive, it is to take upon the consequences of the other person's act. The price that one must pay for their freedom through another's sacrifice is that one must in turn be willing to free the other in the same way, regardless of the consequences."
Flower of Immorality—Part 1
The story of a vampire who fell in love with a priest—from the start the two of them knew that their relationship was wrong and doomed, but those days of passion and feeling do not fade into nothingness. Yet whose fault was it really, the vampire who appeared on a night of a full moon? Or the very irrational nature of the world itself that brought about such an effect?
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Arthur was not one to feel regret or any sort of emotion over a potential meal—this wasn't his first killing either, having lived for over a several centuries; the sandy blonde had drained away enough blood to fill a small sea. Yet here he was, hesitating over feeding on a peacefully sleeping priest. It was not his first time feeding on men of God; hell, he enjoyed the irony of feeding on clerics who had pledged their lives in service of the church—at the end, they all ended up dead in spite of their religious fervor, believing that divine intervention would arrive in time to save them from their demise at the hands of a monstrous creature.
However, he had to admit that his soundly sleeping prey looked a tad too appealing to kill. Especially with how the soft moonlight shone on him—the man would have made a most charming and alluring vampire himself if he were not a priest. Plus, it had been such a long time since he stumbled upon a decently good-looking human. The last time Arthur laid his eyes on the rare instance of physical beauty was at least three centuries ago…even so; she did not have the almost celestial attractiveness of this unsuspecting dish.
Half sprawled on his side, arms stretched out as if trying to embrace someone; the vampire had to admit that the sleep-tousled silvery bangs only served to emphasize the elegant features of this mortal— pale skin like alabaster, natural cherry pink lips pursed in a pout, slender eyebrows and lashes: it was a crime for a mere human to be so enchanting. Even those crimson eyes—
Wait. Crimson eyes like fresh blood. Just when had the albino woken up from his slumber—
Before Arthur could make his escape, cold, glittering emerald irises gazed at bright scarlet ones that shown with a mixture of annoyance, shock, horror and outrage. If he was not so busy trying to extricate himself from his own mess at the moment; the sandy blonde would had been amused, except that this cleric was unlike the unfortunate ones before him—clearly, Arthur had underestimated this doll—last the vampire remembered, vials of holy water were not stashed under the pillows; who on earth would and could sleep with glass ampoules beneath their heads? It was downright uncomfortable, vampire or human, neither would sleep on a pillow laid on top of a handful of glass bottles.
Apparently this priest did, and it was the quick reflexes granted to the sandy blonde as a supernatural creature that saved his legs from being melted off. 'This is interesting, a cleric that has experience with combat. Or at least, a keener mind than his predecessors.' Arthur mused, his lips curled with mirth while he continued to evade the barrage of shattered phials and holy water aimed at him. Nonetheless, the vampire managed to flit through the attacks and grabbed the man's wrists, effectively preventing the latter from raining more blessed water on him.
While the displeased expression Arthur wore could be described as murderous, there was a tint of desire in his eyes as well. It was truly a pity to drain this entertaining human—the sandy blonde had never had so much trouble against any of his victims before. Even against those pesky hunters that brought no end of trouble to him, their struggle did not last as long as this strange albino had—then again, Arthur was holding back, rather than going full out with his powers. 'No wonder the scent of his blood had been much more enticing than any other I've come across,' the creature of darkness smiled, more to himself than to the priest he had pinned to the bed.
"For a man of God, you've proved yourself to be quite violent," as if they were lovers, Arthur whispered into the albino's ear. His grip on the latter's wrists tightened, not enough to snap the bone, but sufficient warning that he could if he wanted to. Glowing with hunger, emerald irises glittered at the tempting pale, unmarked stretch of skin—his ears could hear the beating of the cleric's heart, the organ mindlessly pumping the very blood that had brought the vampire here on this night.
Clearly, the mortal had no intention of allowing him to do anything, not that Arthur had even asked for permission to begin with—however, even if he wanted to do so now, the sandy blonde had to wait till his jaw was healed. The impudent doll of his was proving to be more and more of a tricky person to handle: he had snapped his head forward and given a nasty head-butt to the face; then made use of the brief distraction to deliver a forceful kick to the gut—it did not hurt at all, but the impact sent him crashing into the wall.
"For a vampire you certainly fail at securing your prey. While I am not so heartless as to defile the grounds of sanctuary by killing, I am permitted to defend myself adequately." Narrowed ruby eyes glared at him, defiance burning in those striking eyes like flames. "If you have to feed, there is a stable at the back where livestock is kept. After that, leave and don't let me catch you here again." Wielding a silver knife, the blade glinted coldly as the metal reflected the moonlight. There was no sign of fear or anger; only quiet determination and resolve in the priest's frame—no doubt, the albino was trained in self defense, or perhaps even had combat experience.
'No matter, I will find a way to obtain this interesting human…his blood is just too tempting to give up to others.'
Grim the End (Hetalia crossover with AkunoP's Four Ends in EC)
"The Master of the Hellish Yard brings Hell, Everything eternally unforgivable" –Boy of the End, Hänsel
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If there was one thing that Arthur could not stand as the Master of Hell, it was the major misconception that he was evil and malicious—granted that complete annihilation was not the most ideal of end to meet in the viewpoint of a mortal; it was still a very fair and just decision, all would be punished for eternity according to their unforgivable sins. Besides, it was a fitting way to keep the souls of man in check, seeing their incorrigible behavior as well as hateful attitude to each other spanning 0ver several millenniums.
Furthermore, what about the others: the Master of the Court was naught but a child, passing out unjust judgment in a bid to carry on the will of he called Grandfather—a soulless puppet that had been the former incarnation of the Demon of Sloth. Alfred was no better; having eaten the Demon of Gluttony, the man had took on the role of the Master of the Graveyard; ingesting everything into his stomach and still unsatisfied—such was the end he intended to give—death which consumed everything while still desiring for more.
'At the very least, have them answer for their acts of malice rather than damning them all to a court that would trial them forever or devouring the world along with its flawed inhabitants mindlessly.' The deity snorted mentally, a disgusted sneer forming on his lips. As much as he understood that the nature of man was to be aggressive and try to dominate each other in terms of ideals, morals even the most base and perverse of ways—it was also that very point which was the basis for giving all a second chance; atonement, as Gilbert often insisted upon as the Master of Heaven.
It was idiotic, believing in the irregularity of man—which they could be capable of change in spite of the malice implanted into them at the time of creation—to redeem himself and enter into the heavenly yard regardless of past sin. There was a reason why there was a Hellish yard after all, to mete out punishment for eternity as penitence. Unforgivable crime should remain unforgiven and repaid, did it make sense for a person who committed grave sin to enter past those heavenly gates due to having shown remorse and made some paltry amends to redeem himself in front of others? None at all—besides, all man strove to secure their future and would make use of any means necessary to steal another's future wittingly or not. One man's success was another's failure, to kill or be killed; the desire to survive was always the first before any other moral principle. It was not wrong, it was just the natural way of things—weakness was not tolerated and it would ensure a strong succeeding generation after the previous.
In any case, the only ones in Arthur's domain were the seven cursed sinners who had forged a contract with the demons of sin: Luxuria, Gula, Superbia, Acedia, Invidia, Avarita and Ira—the seven cardinal crimes. It still came as a surprise to him that one made in similar image to him was thrown into Hell for having made a deal with the demon of greed while the sinner that had called upon wrath—shared an uncanny resemblance to Gilbert. Truth to be told, all of the demons with the exceptions of Superbia and Acedia were 'killed' once by Ira.
"Wrath…the effect created from the other six. It's little wonder why the rest fell to the anger and hate born out of their on actions. 'Righteous anger' is but the same as finger pointing to shift away the burden of guilt from oneself to another." The sandy blonde muttered, feeling his scorn and derision for the beings he had created alongside with the others back when the world was but an empty canvas. Along with the creation of a new world, they too also set the rules as to its end. Four different ends—any one of them may come, but the point was that they could not be avoided in any way.
Nonetheless, being the 'one who held every key' did have its benefits; Arthur could watch the pasts of all the sinners in his domain—more often than not mocking them for the mistakes they had made—as entertainment.
Uncontrolled desire, that sinner of Lust was finally killed by one wielding Wrath in the form of a sword; anger incurred from personal humiliation and the need for revenge.
Overindulgence to the point of waste, that sinner of Gluttony was weakened to a pathetic state by Wrath as well, this time as poison that destroyed even the demon of sin itself.
Hatred and contempt of others that eventually led to the deaths of millions, the sinner of Pride was made to watch as his beloved family paid the price for him.
Failure to act—confidence in the belief that without any improvement—a prestigious empire could maintain its power, it was not long before corruption ate at its foundation from inside out. The sinner of Sloth was left for stronger competitors to pick at him.
The insane need to be better than others, to deprive others of their blessings, to take what was not rightfully theirs; the sinner of Envy brought Wrath to himself due to his actions.
An insatiable avarice, the sinner of Greed almost had the world in his hands—until Wrath brought about by its desire to gain more at the expense of others had his power slowly but surely waning away.
Finally, Wrath itself who had brought about the end that Arthur had set along with the other three—intense feelings of hatred and self-destructive behavior, while his actions were that of wrath caused by a simple desire to try and bring back what was taken by death…they had formed a chain of hate that led to massive destruction.
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A/N.: Three short stories in one chapter here…. This took a really long time (I blame my busy schedule.) but I am really thankful for the support of those who have patiently waited as well as encouraged me. On the bright side of things, I did pretty well for my tests; at least for those I have gotten results back for. I sincerely hope that you all will enjoy this update and do send me prompts to work on—it was the purpose of this whole thing in the first place.
Anyways, historical facts for the first story: "Forgiveness" aka re-first kiss prompt from Mieudiary (I can't really write happy things so…and I'm sorry this didn't really turn out the way you wanted)
HISTORY TIME
1.1953, 17th June: The East German Worker's uprising is violently suppressed by Soviet forces—roughly 513 people were killed in the fights, 106 executed under martial law, over 1800 injured and 5,100 arrested. This was because of the East German government raised taxes and the price level of basic goods and services, the work quota was raised even further by 10% and a pay cut would be in effect if the workers failed to meet their work quota.
2. After the end of WWII, the Red Army dismantled and transported all infrastructure and industrial plants of the occupied zone of East Germany to Russia. Meaning, in addition to having all their manufacturing plants taken, they had to find someway to pay the reparations owed to the USSR.
3. While considered to be the most well off among the other Soviet states in terms of economy, East Germany never caught up with the standards of its Western counterpart. A quote from the Heute show: "Look you can announce to do away with the Bundesliga and that 3 nuclear reactors just exploded, that would instill less fear in the Germans than to say 'we have to do a financial exertion similar to that of the German unification AGAIN'"
4. Take note that I refrained from trying to portray a certain nation as the villain here as I prefer to avoid being hounded. (To be very blunt the Hetalia fandom has a very bad reputation due a few horrible fans that do not know how to be sensitive enough when it comes to certain sensitive historical content. Or portrayal of certain nations.) IN ANY CASE THE INJURIES PRUSSIA GOT DURING THE TIME OF THE COLD WAR IN MY HEADCANNON WERE ALL DUE TO NATIONAL ISSUES SO DO NOT COME TRASHING AT ME FOR MAKING ANYONE A VILLAIN. WE ALL KNOW WHOM I'M TALKING ABOUT GDI.
5. 1918, 11 November: WWI officially ends. At 5 a.m. that morning, Germany, bereft of manpower and supplies and faced with imminent invasion, signed an armistice agreement with the Allies in a railroad car outside Compiégne, France. The First World War left nine million soldiers dead and 21 million wounded, with Germany, Russia, Austria-Hungary, France, and Great Britain each losing nearly a million or more lives. In addition, at least five million civilians died from disease, starvation, or exposure.
6. 1919, 18th January: Paris Peace Conference; the conference that decided upon the terms of the Treaty of Versailles. Representatives from Germany were excluded from the peace conference until May, when they arrived in Paris and were presented with a draft of the Treaty of Versailles. The Germans were deeply frustrated and disillusioned by the treaty, which required them to forfeit a great deal of territory and pay reparations. Even worse, the infamous Article 231 (War Guilt Clause) forced Germany to accept sole blame for the war.
7. 1919, 28th June: The Treaty of Versailles is signed, in the decades to come, anger and resentment of the treaty and its authors festered in Germany. Extremists like Adolf Hitler's National Socialist (Nazi) Party capitalized on these emotions to gain power, a process that led almost directly to the exact thing Wilson and the other negotiators in Paris in 1919 had wanted to prevent–a second, equally devastating global war.
This treaty remains to date, one of the most controversial and debated on topic amongst historians. Each of the major powers then: France, Britain and America had different opinions on how the treaty should have been—the French who were still upset at the loss of the Franco-Prussian War wanted a treaty that would make Germany pay heavy reparations, accept total blame of the war and revenge for the damage inflicted onto its lands.
The British wanted a treaty that would prevent Germany from starting another war–what an irony, the war was started by a Serbian assassinating the future ruler of the Austro-Hungarian ruler—and wanted the German navy to be weak as British Naval superiority had once been threatened by German Naval Armaments. However, the British feared having too harsh a treaty, as an unfair peace would lead to another war. Moreover, they also wanted Germany to be able to recover economically to prevent the rise of communism in Central Europe.
America on the other hand, wanted to keep out of future foreign entanglements—policy of Isolationism—eventually, this inaction and policy would also play a role in the gears of war that would lead to an inevitable march of a Second World War.
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For the second story: "Flower of Immorality" I mostly got inspiration for it from the song "Corrupted Flower" by HitoshizukuxYama P, sung by Rin and Len (/A/) I hope you readers will enjoy it and do leave a review—I want to know what are your thoughts about it.
For the last one…admittedly this was 'rage writing' as I was in a bad mood and stuff was getting to me. But it's roughly based on AkunoP's Evillious Chronicles (partially crossover). So…in short, in this AU shares the elements of the four pillar Gods of Evillious: Master of the Graveyard (Death), Master of the Court (Judgment), Master of the Hellish Yard (Hell) and Master of the Heavennly Yard (Heaven)
In this story: Master of the Graveyard (America), Master of the Court (Italy), Master of the Hellish Yard (England) and Master of the Heavenly Yard (Prussia and HRE)
Then the 7 sinners—there is reference to history here but I don't think I'll post it here because like I said, the last drabble was basically 'rage writing' and I posted it because I felt like it. XD /SMACKED/
Again, thank you so much for reading—leave a favourite, follow whichever you think fit—and do leave a review after! I love hearing what people have to say about what I write. (Obviously, please don't be rude. Even if you don't like it just say so politely. No vulgarities please.)
