I wrote this fanfic for my own literary enjoyment and wish to share it with other APH fans. The chapters I post here are not to be taken seriously and I apologize if I offend anyone. Also, I do not support or condone any of the themes I use here. Thank you.

MAJOR WARNING: dark themes (blood, gore, violence, death, cannibalism, etc); implied rape and necrophilia; explicit language and sex scenes; inaccurate historical references; slight OOC; NSFW & R-18

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the APH characters or the franchise; Axis Powers Hetalia rightfully belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya.

~ Dieu et mon droit ~
~ God and my right ~

Terrified screams, the smell of gunpowder, bountiful riches; the vast ocean is a pirate's bread and butter. When he took up his position of captain, the thrill of adventure swept him away. He does not care who he hurts in his travels: men, women, and children. They are all the same blank faces in his plundering life. His foes are easily destroyed under the weight of his ships, especially that troublesome armada. He has raped his fair share of wenches and cabin boys, even a few of his crewmates when they are drunk enough. He knows his Queen would throw a fit if she found out about the horrible activities he has done far from her reach. Oh well. What she does not know cannot hurt her, right?

He wants everyone to fear his name. To fear his growing power. No longer will he be that sniveling child who hides among rabbits and faeries. No longer will his siblings tease and abuse him, especially that Scot bastard.

"Por favor… mi capitán…"

Speaking of bastards, the nation turns his attention back to the naked man next to him and leers at his delicious handiwork. Long gashes and bleeding bite marks mar his captive's tanned chest and neck. Exhausted pants escape from bruised lips with a thin line of blood running down a stubbly chin. Slender wrists are rubbed raw from the iron manacles binding them to the headboard. Olive green eyes, glazed over from his current ecstasy-filled high, silently beg for freedom.

"Have you learnt your lesson, pet?" he huskily drawls, running a calloused hand through his prey's brown hair and harshly tugging on the curls.

A defeated moan and a slight nod relay the prisoner's answer to the nation.

"Would like me to bestow upon you the liberty you so desperately yearn?"

"Sí…please, I need to—"

A vicious sound of skin hitting skin bounces off the cabin's walls, followed by another and another. He watches in sick gratification as his prey's eyes sting with tears with each strike. Once his pale hand throbs an angry red hue, he reaches between his tanned captive's legs and cruelly grips the hardening cock. Choking back a strangled gasp, the bound man unintentionally bucks his hips into the touch. Blunt nails stab into the sensitive organ, rewarding the nation with a breathy sigh from his prisoner.

Satisfied, he leans over and kisses a sweaty forehead, lapping up the salty beads.

"Your mouth tells lies but your body sings the truth, love. I wonder how your adorable henchman would react if he saw his beloved boss in such an arousing position."

Spain freezes at the words spilling from that sinful mouth, his eyes reflecting panic. The name Lovi ghosts over his chapped lips.

Fear, such a thrilling emotion. Fear of a loved one's well-being is most exciting. He relishes in hearing terror-soaked pleas of surrender to lengthen their lifespan for a few mere measly seconds. Such pleas fall on deaf ears as he runs his cutlass through their disgusting bodies. He does not care who he hurts just as long as they look upon him with trepidation.

England darkly chortles at seeing his captive grow silent and lax, succumbing yet again to the creeping fear twisting in his gut. The Briton smiles at his wicked deeds. He cannot wait until Spain joins him in insanity's thrall; such fun they'll have together.

"Now then…I believe it's my turn for a ride," England croons, whorishly straddling the Spaniard's hips.