Synopsis. ( one-shot collection ) It has been a little over a decade since you left the Hetalia fandom to focus on your life. One day, YouTube recommends an old Hetalia song that you used to obsess over, and after listening to it, you decide to step back into the fandom to reminisce about your Hetalian era. However, you didn't expect to literally return to Hetalia when two strange yet familiar men kidnap you from your world and bring you to theirs.
Pairing. Various ( separate ) x Fem!Reader
Author's note. Inspired by Nightsevera's fic on deviantART. This is going to be a VERY big project that I will hopefully finish before 2026 ends… I will try to cover all of the characters on this list. Hopefully Himaruya doesn't officially debut more characters before this is finished or else I'm cooked
Heaving a weary sigh, you quietly unlocked the door to your apartment and stepped inside, the usual silence greeting you. As you pulled the door shut behind you with one hand, the other reached down to your raised leg and slipped your boot off your foot before doing the same with your other boot. Nudging your boots off to the side, you then walked over to the couch and flopped down on your stomach, your backpack sliding off your shoulder to land on the floor with a soft thud. With your face squished against the cushion, you let out another sigh.
How did your life end up like this? You had moved out of your home country to continue your studies, hoping to build a better future for yourself; you flew out of your nest to find thrill and adventure of living in a foreign country; you left everything behind to turn over a new leaf and become a daughter your parents could be proud of, but what awaited you on the other side was a lonely, uneventful life. You didn't have many friends, believing that your social life wasn't as important as your studies (oh, how wrong you were), and were constantly studying to stay at the top of your class. It was exhausting, and with each passing day, you were gradually losing your momentum.
You were tired.
You decided to take a short nap before taking a shower and doing your nightly routine. You didn't even bother to position yourself properly on the couch as your mind succumbed to sleep, your eyelids fluttering shut. With your breaths slowing into a calm, steady rhythm, you drifted into the world of your dreams, where you were much, much happier.
You didn't know how much time had passed when you awoke. Slowly lifting your eyelids, you pushed yourself to sit on your knees. You then turned your head to the clock on the wall, seeing that it was already half past nine at night - you had passed out for a solid three hours. Scratching the back of your head, you slid off the couch and dragged yourself to the computer, thinking that you might as well tire yourself out by watching random videos on YouTube.
"Thank goodness it's the weekend tomorrow," you mumbled to nobody in particular, repeatedly pressing the spacebar to turn on the screen. As soon as you went on YouTube, you noticed that the videos recommended to you were what you would have watched religiously back in 2010. Your eyes widened, your eyebrows shooting up in surprise.
Ah, yes. The years 2010 until 2014 were the time of Hetalia and One Direction - the happiest years of your life.
A breathy chuckle slipped past your lips as you hovered your mouse over the Nordic 5 song, Always With You. Bringing an elbow atop the desk, you propped your chin on the palm of your left hand as the nostalgic melody played, the song opening with Denmark's obnoxious yet cheerful voice. Memories of the past flashed through your mind, though some you internally cringed at since... you were quite young when you became a Hetalian (let's not remember those times too vividly...). Regardless, the era in which you spent fangirling over personified countries was filled with smiles and laughter, and above all, it was free of worry as you didn't have to constantly think about maintaining your GPA and paying bills. You pressed a hand against your mouth to suppress the emotions bubbling up in your throat as you listened to Italy's Marukaite Chikyuu, tears pricking the corners of your eyes.
Suddenly, it's 2010 and everything was alright.
Your chest felt tight; there was an inexplicable longing for something you couldn't identify. The nostalgia was so powerful that you kept listening to another Hetalia song after the previous one ended, and found out that Denmark finally has his own character song, Let's Enjoy! Let's Get Excited! Cheers! Then you listened to one of England's character songs that you figured was released sometime after you left the fandom, Let's Enjoy Today. The melody and lyrics hit home, and that's when a few tears escaped. You wept for what could no longer be, for what you had let go to continue moving forward.
Why did you leave the Hetalia fandom back then? What even made you leave?
You regretted abandoning the fandom - but what could you have done? You were growing up and starting to live in the real world. The fact that you'd eventually grow out of Hetalia was inevitable, though you were glad that there's a resurgence of the fandom when you checked Tumblr.
"No way... Scotland, Wales, Northern Ireland and Ireland have official designs now?" you mumbled, admiring the official art of the UK brothers and Ireland, "There's even a new British micronation!"
Eventually, midnight fell. Noticing the time, you decided to call it a day and continue your nostalgia trip when the sun was up later. Standing up from your chair, you were about to head to the bathroom to wash up when you heard a suspicious clatter from your room. It was followed by the faint shuffling of feet, striking you with paranoia.
Something's not right. Last time you checked, you were the only one living in this small apartment...
Inching towards your storage closet, you blindly reached inside and grabbed a golf stick. Keeping your gaze on the door to your room, you stealthily slinked towards it. You pressed your back again the wall beside the door, hand on the doorknob as you listened for further movements inside the room. Counting to three, you then flung the door open and rushed in with the golf stick pulled behind your head, ready to strike the intruder.
"GET OUT OF MY-" you shouted only to falter upon meeting a pair of baby blue eyes. The owner's light blond hair almost looked transparent underneath the light, his white royal military uniform that was embellished with medals exuding an air of British regality. You took a step back with your jaw going slack, unable to believe what - or rather, who - you were seeing in your room. "Y-you're-" You were cut off by his mock disappointed sigh.
"Dearie me," he began, smiling at you in a way that unsettled you, "it appears that my princess has discovered us." Your brows furrowed in confusion. Us? "Allen!" He clapped, and on cue, the heavy thud of boots sounded behind you. Before you could turn around, the side of someone's palm struck the back of your neck, effectively knocking you out.
The last thing you heard as a pair of arms captured your body was, "Now, let us go home, pet."
❀
A pair of emerald green eyes cast a look at the sky when a raindrop plopped on top of the owner's mop of blond locks. Knitting his thick eyebrows together, Arthur cursed under his breath and fished through his bag for the umbrella he thought he had brought with him before he left for the world meeting being held in London. His three older brothers - Alasdair, Connor and Dylan - stood behind him as they too gazed at the darkening sky, the heralds of rain blocking out the sun.
"Aye, any of you got a brolly?" Connor asked.
"England bach was supposed to bring one," Dylan chirped.
Whirling his head around, the Englishman narrowed his eyes at the two. "You lot could have brought your own umbrellas instead of expecting me to prepare everything!" As the three brothers began to bicker back and forth, Alasdair chose to avert his attention to the alleyway across the road, where he spotted subtle movements in the darkness. He strained his ears, picking up on the sounds of struggle; it was only when he heard a high-pitched shriek that was abruptly cut off did he reach inside his navy blue coat to grasp his revolver. The other three men paused, having also heard the sound of someone in distress.
"... Did any of you catch that?" Connor quietly asked, looking between his brothers nervously.
"It came from there," Alasdair murmured, undoing the safety lock with a soft click. The UK brothers all had their eyes on the alleyway across the road and carefully observed with bated breaths.
Suddenly, your form burst forth from the shadows, causing them to tense up and the Scotsman to almost draw his revolver. With disheveled clothes and hair, you panted as if you had ran a mile and scanned your surroundings frantically; the pitiful state you were in made Connor and Dylan relax slightly, but Alasdair and Arthur remained on guard. Before you could notice the UK brothers watching you with wide eyes, a gloved hand reached for you from the alleyway and grasped your hair painfully, forcing you backwards with a harsh tug. Wincing, you instinctively reached behind your head to claw at the offending hand.
"You bitch!" Allen growled, eyes flaring. He was clutching his abdomen with his free hand and was having a hard time breathing thanks to the precise punch you had thrown at his solar plexus. The American tugged your hair again as the blond he intruded into your home with appeared beside the two of you, arms folded behind his back.
"Now, now, that is no way to speak to or treat a lady," he said, clasping Allen's wrist with mirth dancing in his blue hues, "And with that foul mouth of yours, I daresay that punch was very much deserved."
"Shut up, Mordred! This is all your fault!" Allen hissed, but loosening his grip just enough for it to not hurt as much when Mordred squeezed his wrist painfully, "If you hadn't screwed up, we wouldn't have to take this fucking detour!"
"My apologies. You know that I'm not well-versed in magic compared to my- Oh... speak of the devil." Grinning, Mordred waved at the UK brothers a few ways in front of them. "Good afternoon, gentlemen!"
Arthur's left eyebrow twitched at the sight of his and Alfred's Second Players holding you captive; he didn't need to know all of the details to figure out that you needed his help. "Let that woman go!"
Mordred put a hand on his chest with a dramatic gasp. "And lose this rare chance of reuniting with my princess?" A shadow then fell over his eyes, and the air suddenly felt heavy, sending a chill down your spine. "Over my dead body."
The way he uttered those words frightened you. As the Second Player of England, Mordred was a lot more cheerful and open, but that also meant he was far more honest than the original. What he wants, he gets - and he'll get whatever it is that he desires, one way or another.
Arthur chewed his bottom lip. Things usually get more complicated when Mordred is serious, and he contemplated using his wand against his own Second Player. However, before he could actually go through with that thought, Alasdair pulled out his revolver that he had kept hidden in his coat the entire time and fired a warning shot at Allen. The latter was taken by surprise and couldn't react in time, resulting in the bullet grazing the side of his face. He clenched his jaw, feeling the slight sting on his cheek. All the while, you glued your gaze on the group of men across the road, unsure of what to do during this tense exchange.
"My brother won't repeat himself," the Scotsman uttered calmly, ready to shoot again if needed.
Mordred narrowed his eyes at Alasdair as all signs of playfulness disappeared from them. A moment or two then passed before he reluctantly motioned for Allen to release you. "Let her go."
Grunting, the American untangled his painful grip your hair and shoved you onto the road. You subconsciously stumbled towards the UK brothers, knowing that you would be safe in their company. Dylan immediately took you into his arms as Arthur and Connor stepped in front of the two of you protectively. The Welshman looked down at your trembling form, his eyes softening with sympathy; you were no doubt shaken up by whatever the Second Players had put you through. He wordlessly rubbed your back in an attempt to soothe your nerves.
"Please take care good care of my princess," Mordred said with a mock bow, "because we will come back for her."
"As if I'll let you anywhere near her!" Arthur exclaimed, glaring at him. His Second Player merely let out a joyful laugh whilst flicking his wrist, causing a portal to materialise behind him. With a swish of his red cape, he disappeared through the portal, Allen following suit. Sighing in relief, Alasdair hid his revolver inside his coat again as Arthur continued to stare at the spot where they previously stood, his mind a whirlwind of questions that only the Second Players would have answers to.
"England bach!" Dylan called, snapping him back to reality, "The poor blodwyn won't stop shaking. I think she's still scared." Arthur glanced at you, seeing you clinging to his older brother as if he was a lifeline. He felt a pang of guilt, feeling somewhat responsible for Mordred's actions. "You should take her with you to the meeting. It'll be much safer with the other nations around."
When Arthur nodded at his suggestion, Dylan softly spoke to you, "Hey blodwyn... My younger brother will bring you somewhere safe now. Can you go with him?" You didn't respond, but when he tried to pass you to Arthur, you immediately dug your fingers into his light apricot cardigan and expressed your refusal by pressing your face against his shoulder. For some reason, you felt safer with Dylan, whom you recognised as the personification of Wales. You then subtly looked at the other men around you; there was Scotland, Northern Ireland and the great England himself, all in the flesh. If it wasn't for Allen terrorising you earlier, you would have fangirled on the spot. It wasn't everyday that you got to be in the presence of the fictional characters you could only dream of and read about in fanfictions when you were younger, and here you were, in the protective embrace of one of the dashing UK brothers.
Dylan's cheeks flushed with embarrassment when you refused to let go of him, and his eyes flickered over to Arthur somewhat bashfully. "Uh... Maybe I could accompany you to the meeting, just this once?"
Arthur heaved a sigh. It didn't look like there were any other options; you seemed to only trust the Welshman at the moment. "Come along now. We can't afford to waste anymore time, we're already running late."
As the UK brothers started making their way towards the building where the world meeting was being held, Dylan wrapped an arm around your shoulders, walking you with him. When you felt a sudden weight on your shoulders, you turned your head to see Connor's smiling face.
"It's quite chilly today," he said whilst Dylan adjusted his brother's coat on you. Murmuring a small "thanks", you wrapped the Irishman's coat around yourself and snuggled into it.
Questioning looks were thrown your way when Arthur entered the meeting room with you and Dylan in tow (Alasdair and Connor had gone to wait in another room with the other countries' states acting as their secretary for the month). Arthur went up to the front to explain the situation to Ludwig as you and Dylan took a seat in a corner on the back row, behind a group of nations that you recognised were part of the ASEAN. Juan and Tuah were excitedly looking at a sales campaign on Shopee, Prasert was summarising it in a Google docs for them, Lien was trying to get them to pay attention, while Raditya was browsing through a selection of motorcycles on sale on his cracked iPhone. You stared at Raditya's phone, wondering why he doesn't just get it replaced - despite having read on the Hetalia wiki that he's the type to use something until it's completely broken.
Feeling your gaze on him, the Indonesian turned his head to lock eyes with you. The polite smile he sent your way made you look away quickly with blood rushing to your cheeks, embarrassed at having been caught staring.
"I've never seen you around before, mbak. What's your name?" he asked, the smile ever so present on his face, "I'm Indonesia, but you can call me Raditya or Dirga."
Dylan eyed you curiously, only realising now that he hadn't caught your name either.
"(Y/n)," you quietly answered, still not meeting his eyes.
You couldn't believe it. You're actually attending a Hetalia world meeting. The situation you're in was a lot to digest, and you hoped this wasn't a long and realistic dream you'd soon wake up from. You pinched your thigh to make sure and winced at the sharp pain you felt.
Yep, this was all real.
"Your friend is a shy one isn't she, mas Wales?" Raditya said, chuckling. He didn't seem outwardly bothered by the fact that there's a human in a room full of nations, though he did internally question your presence here.
As if on cue, Ludwig yelled for everyone's attention, causing the buzz of the chattering nations to die down immediately while Arthur went to take a seat on one of the front rows.
"Today's meeting will be different than the previous ones as an urgent matter has been brought up by England," Ludwig solemnly began, "Two of our Second Players were sighted near this building earlier." The room broke out into worried murmurs. Strict regulations have been set for crossing between the worlds of the First and the Second Players, so the fact that they had intruded into their world was concerning. The German cleared his throat loudly, silencing the nations again. "England and his brothers rescued a woman who had been kidnapped by them." He then scanned the room, his eyes landing on you sitting next to Dylan stiffly. Some of the nations followed his gaze and spotted you behind the ASEAN group. "We have yet to know their reasons for taking her. However, if they were that desperate to bring her to their world, then she must be an important... asset to them."
You felt as if you should divulge the fact that you're actually from neither of their worlds, and that where you're from, the world they knew is fictional. Dylan could sense that you wanted to say something, and quickly waved his arm in the air to get Ludwig's attention before the German could continue.
"Yes, Wales?"
"(Y/n) has something to say!" The Welshman then turned to you with an encouraging a smile.
"So your name is (y/n)? At least we've got a name now. What is it that you'd like to tell us?" Ludwig asked, keeping his eyes on you.
"I..." You took a deep breath braced yourself for their reactions. "I'm actually not from your world... Or the Second Players'."
There was a moment of silence before the room erupted.
"Hold the phone- You're telling me that there are other worlds besides ours and our Second Players'?!"
"The universe is bigger than you think, you dolt! Just like how America isn't the only continent on Earth!"
"So (y/n)-san got isekai'd into our world? Interesting..."
"Ve~ I wonder if the pasta in her world is tasty!"
"Is pasta all you're ever concerned about?"
"Buset," Raditya said, staring at you wide-eyed, "But... that means our kind doesn't exist in your world. You seem strangely calm about us."
"Well, that's because in my world, you're all part of an anime called Hetalia. In other words, this world and everything in it is fictional to me... until today." You let out an awkward chuckle.
Ludwig gazed pensively at you as he tried to comprehend the nonsensical thought of being a fictional character in your world - but there was no other way to explain why you're not freaking out about their existence. "I see. But that still doesn't explain why the Second Players are after you." He then cupped his chin, trying to come up with a temporary arrangement that would allow them some time to figure things out. "England told me that Mordred claimed they'll be back for you. For your own safety, I strongly suggest you stay with one of us until England is able to create a spell that can return you to your home world. Wales, Norway, Romania, Indonesia, I expect you four to assist him-" The German was rudely interrupted by a certain Dane, who sprung up from his seat with his fists clenched in front of his chest.
"The King of Northern Europe shall protect the maiden until the spell is completed!"
"No way! She'll be much safer with the hero, which is me of course!"
"She'll go insane if she stays with you! My brothers and I can watch over her."
"As if a weirdo like you can do any better," Sean remarked offhandedly, earning a sharp glare from the Englishman.
Your eyes wandered around the meeting room as the nations began to argue amongst themselves, some using the point-evidence-explain method to further justify why you should be under their protection.
"ORDER!" Ludwig bellowed, slamming his hands on the table, "You all don't get to decide for her unless she's unable to make a decision herself. In which case, I will randomly assign her to a nation." He shifted his attention to you, prompting you with his next words. "(Y/n), feel free to choose who you wish to stay with."
Choose your nation ( none yet; Wales WIP )
Translations
(Javanese) Mba - older sister
(Javanese) Mas - older brother
(Indonesian) Buset - it can be translated to "heck" in English. You say it when you're surprised or amazed by something (can be both positive or negative)
Liliana’s throat is so dry. Her eyes burn behind heavy eyelids, burning like her face and her hands, while the rest of her can’t seem to get warm enough, even snuggled under a pile of blankets. She sleeps, and wakes, but one is the same as the other, filled with snippets of sound and images that make no sense.
“Lili. Are you awake?”
A cool hand rests on her forehead, and she hums, leaning into it. The owner of the voice hisses. Then the hand disappears and Liliana drifts again. It’s somehow both an eternity and an instant before the couch cushions dip and a cold wet cloth drapes across her forehead, instead. She whines and turns her head, but the cloth is just readjusted and pressed onto her skin.
“I know it’s cold. But we need to bring your fever down.”
She swallows, wincing. “Mamá?” she whispers hoarsely.
The voice hesitates. “No, aegiya. Just me.”
Prying her eyes open, she makes out turquoise hair and an eyebrow piercing. Oh, it’s Nari. Right. Her eyes drift shut again, mind not fully registering the mistake that she’d made. “Tengo sed.”
Fingertips lightly brush a curl from her face, and for once she actually doesn’t recoil at the touch. “What’s that?”
Swallowing again, she repeats herself a little louder. “Tengo sed. Necesito agua.”
The cushions shift as Nari stands up. A moment later, her voice comes drifting back to Liliana. “...speaking Spanish…means water, right?”
She loses track of time once more. The next thing she’s aware of is a straw being placed on her lips.
“Here, drink this, then I’ve got a tablet for you to swallow if you can. It’ll help the fever come down some.”
The water is the best thing she’s ever tasted in her life. It soothes her sore throat, and she can feel the coolness spread through her chest as it goes down.
“Good girl.” The cloth is temporarily removed from her forehead, only to be flipped over to the cold side and reapplied. “Just get some rest, okay? I’ve got you.”
Liliana adjusts her position a little and sinks into the pillow, already starting to fall back asleep. “Te amo…” she murmurs without thinking, and is out before she can hear whether there’s an answer.
