That wasn't even the worst of it. The orphanage was disgusting, crawling with vermin and disease. All the rooms were the same shade of dull gray with cracks and holes designing them. In the rooms, medical beds were lined closely together, the mattresses and comforters grimy and reeking of mildew. If you were fortunate enough to have a window in your room, it was filled with dirt and covered only by tattered curtains.
Around the old, unstable building was surrounded by a high-standing fence, topped like a cake with barbed wire. The grass on the ground has died out long ago, weeds not even being able to survive in the barren, dry dirt. Luckily, the people who worked here provided clothes, although most were donated and disgusting in their own ways. Many of your clothing's threads were begining to wear and undo while others had holes in them, probably from moths ingesting the worn fabrics.
Often times, the food wasn't edible or could barely be stomached. Many times after eating, you'd have to go to the gross toilets just to spew it back up. Because of this, you and many of the other children in the building were near starving to death. If something was ingestible, you would eat as much as you could.
The worse thing, though, was the staff. Many of the children got into fights but those who worked here did nothing to correct this. Although, if something got intensely out of hand, they'd be sent to the orphanage's owner to be reprimanded. They were strict and often times smack you with a ruler if you didn't follow a rule and they caught you.
Wrapping your small fingers around the cold metal fence, you looked out towards freedom. In front of you, you could see the beautiful city of London in the distance. You tried to reach out towards the city but your hand never made it through.
Someone tore you away, throwing you to the rock-hard ground. "Piss off kid. No one is getting out of this hell-hole until we're 18. Too bad for you, you'll be here for 13 more years!"
As they laughed, the one who threw you to the ground turned you to your side and began kicking your gut. You squealed in pain from every blow, feeling as though they were killing you.
Then, they just stopped. Opening your (e/c) eyes which were once clamped shut in pain, you noticed they had fled. Someone was standing by the gate, an adult male. His eyes were a beautiful light blue and his hair was strawberry blond. You tried sitting up but suddenly, you felt searing pain in your stomach, causing you to fall to the ground in pain.
It felt like forever before someone was speaking to you but the man made his way inside the gates and rushed to your side. "Oh dear, those were some nasty blows, weren't they?" You couldn't move or speak, you just groaned in pain. "I can't help you unless I legally adopt you...oh dear...I guess I have no choice."
Your limp body was lifted off the ground with another painful moan of protest,"I know love...just bare with the pain for a little longer love..."
The pain nauseated you to the point of gagging. Shutting your eyes, you rested your head and sighed. "I know...I'll be sure that you get help as soon as we leave..."
"T...Thanks..." You breathed, letting yourself fall asleep in peace for the first time in what felt like ages.
You awoke in the hospital, your body sore as could be. Moving your arm to your chest, you winced at a shooting, searing pain that ran through it. A moment passed before you looked over to the side, the man from earlier sleeping peacefully in a chair with a light blue blanket draped over him.
Tears collected every time you breathed. The pain from the simple task hurt worse than anyone could believe. Because not only did you feel physically wounds, but you felt mentally weak, destroyed and torn.
That's when you let all the tears fall. It hurt worse to cry. Every time you let in a sharp sob, it felt like a knife was being driven into your lungs. Before long, two pairs of warm arms were wrapped around you, softly hushing you.
Quickly, your sobs ebbed to silent tears, the shock enveloping you. All your life, you never knew love. It was like there was a giant empty spot in the middle of your chest.
Only, when this person was holding you so caringly, you felt warm, like something was there. It wasn't a bad feeling, no. This felt really nice. Bringing your arms around him, you snuggled closer, enveloping the warmth.
"That's much better now, isn't it?" He whispered softly, pulling away. As the feeling went away, you could feel tears returning once more. "H-Hey...! What's the matter? Please don't cry again..."
Once more, salty tears spilled over,"D...Daddy...d...don't...go...p...p...please..."
Smiling softly, he sat beside you while carefully lifting your head and resting it on his lap. His fingers gently combed through your (h/c) hair as he looked down towards you with calm eyes. "I won't go if you don't want me to. The doctors said you can come home in a week with me if all goes well. Then you can come home with me and I'll make you a fresh batch of cupcakes."
A smile was brought on your face, the first time you ever smiled in your life. "See, you're such a pretty young lady when you smile __________. Oh! I'm terribly sorry, I haven't introduced myself, have I? I know your name but you don't even know what to call me. My name is Arthur Kirkland and I'm your new dad."
You nodded your head a bit, not able to move it much. Reaching out, you grabbed the tail of his shirt and rested your eyes once more. "D...addy..."
Once more, he shushed you gently,"Just try to get some sleep __________. I think it might help you get better." As he raked his fingers through his hair, you let yourself smile again. "You don't have to worry about anyone hurting you again..."
"Th...anks...d...da...ddy..." With that, you feel asleep once more, his hand now holding yours.
It took a little over a week before you were allowed out of the hospital. Your chest wasn't as sore but it was still aching. Mr. Kirkland was very nice to you, even setting up a room for you to sleep in before you came to live with him.
The whole drive home was him explaining the rules of his house. Simple enough; keep everything clean and be respectful to his things. Since you were released late at night, you didn't stay up very long during the ride.
Although, you woke up about an hour after you had gotten to your new home with tears in your eyes. You looked around in a panic, worried that maybe you had gone back. Everything was dark, minus the light coming from under the doorway.
Quickly, you got out of bed and went toward the source of light, hoping it was Arthur. Luckily, it was. "Daddy..." You muttered as you entered his bedroom, only poking your head in first but eventually entering. "I...I had a bad dream..."
"Yes, of course." He patted the sheets beside him and waited patiently to approach. When you didn't he cocked his head to the side,"What's the matter love? You know I won't bite."
"A-Am I allowed...?"
The question took his off guard,"Of course. It would be rather silly if I invited you to lay down with me and you weren't allowed."
Nodding, you ran up beside him, quickly climbing up and wrapping your arms around him as best you could. His arm wrapped around your neck and moving you closer. "What's the matter ___________?"
Nestling yourself closer into his arms, you let yourself snivel. "I-I was scared. I don't ever wanna go back to that place...e-everyone was mean...a-and...don't take me back...please...!"
He lifted you onto his stomach, sitting up a bit more himself. Pulling your face up, he wiped the tears away,"Don't let this get to you. I promise no matter what, you won't ever go back to that crude place." Seeing your tears let up, he lifted you out of bed, carrying you away.
At first he believed you were going to your room to be properly tucked in. That was, until he went into the kitchen and sat you down at the table. Going over to the other side of the room, he produced a cupcake, pink and baby blue swirling on top.
Placing it in front of you, he smiled and sat beside you. "I made it for you when you got home but you had fallen asleep. Maybe it'll help you calm down."
You nodded, taking a bite into it. The taste was inexplicable, favors exploding in your mouth. Sure, the food at the hospital was the best food you had ever eaten thus far but this made it look like poop. Arthur was genuinely smiling, his eyes dancing with excitement and curiosity.
It took less than a minute to devour the rest of the sweet treat. "Thank you daddy...it was really good." He smiled, wiping away the crumbs at your face with a light touch.
Letting a yawn go, Arthur picked you up in his arms, tossing away the wrapping before bringing you back to his room. He tucked you in with a kiss on the forehead before laying down himself. "There we are, all tucked in and cozy, right?"
Moving closer, you hid your face in his shirt, letting out a yawn. "Night daddy..."
His arms wrapped around you once more, warm and comfortable. "Goodnight ___________...sleep tight. Don't let the bed bugs bite."
And once more, I shall say this. 2p does not mean evil. 2p is an alternate universe where characters are the opposite. So instead of being a stingy bigot, 2p England is a sweet person.
2p France, instead of being a flirt is actually a reserved man who enjoys reading.
2p America is more rebellios than the normal one but isn't loved by as many people.
I absolutely dislike when people use Beeks 2p England (the one mainly used) as a deranged phycopath. Since I started watching his (meaning Beeks 2p England's) blog, I've seen him go nuts once and that was because he was tired of the anons calling him a slut.
And then he legit started crying.
Not cooking body parts.
He is now currently rehabilitating at Francis' house.
Again, my opinion.
I don't own you or Hetalia.
2p England is Beek's.
And then they make him into a phsycopath. . . And cooks enough meat in his cupcakes that it's weird. I just want to run and hide from it, then huddle into a corner before fleeing to a better one. . . And something happens to the reader.
But that's only the worst onces. On all the others, I'm simply going to
- Earl Grey, eh? Are we really that good poppit...?
-M-maybe...p-please put your shirts back on. U-unless you w-want me to-*blush* *passes out due to nosebleed....for the second time today -_-*
-Oliver, I already gave up two pints of blood today. Your turn.
-*sigh, whispers in my ear*Poppit, there's a time and a place for mucking around....
I agree with 2p England being sweet. But I also say that he can be a little......insane sometimes
I usually see it in the X Readers with him in it. they usually have him as a really sweet person and a true gentleman until someone pisses him off...lets say 2p America, he will get Very Violent: you can tell this when his eyes swirl.
I like the more sweet side of him, it suits him better.
I know I wouldn't.
2P characters were created with memories the 1P characters wanted to erase. Anyone with a path of war, killing, and rape would go insane. A normal person, like us, could become a sociopath from years of abuse and/or neglect. The personified countries had to endure more than that for many centuries.
In short, because I'm now rambling on and on, the 2P Hetalia is called the dark side of Hetalia because of the histories of violence the 1P character 'moved' (for a lack of better wording) from their mindset into the 2P's.
So in all honesty, the 2Ps are evil. Just not because they really wanted to, but it was easier for their minds to cope will all the 'bad stuff' they experience then and now.
They are other characters from an alternate universe. Not evil, bloodthirsty freaks of nature as everyone so assumes that they are.
I'm pretty sure that we, the humans, don't have "other selves" unlike the personified countries. So the 1Ps' 2P could be taken it differently. They are the alternative versions.
And since we are the writers we can make them change to the way we want to. So really it shouldn't be that bad. There are dark stories of the 1P characters without making them seem like their 2P self.
Yeah, we're evil like that.
Since 1P!England is standoffish, stingy, pompous and rather rude on the outside, but does care about others, he just doesn't know how to express it (Tsundere, if you will) and is actually very regretful of who he is and what he has done to people, 2P!England appears to be empathetic, generous, modest and kind, but is really vain and cruel on the inside - in other words, Yandere.
Not that I'm saying you are wrong or anything, gods no, however it's simply up to how one interprets the characters. To be perfectly honest, since I find myself relating to 1P!England very often, I also interpret 2P!England to be opposing to my own traits, as well - and due to my relations with his 1P, I am actually genuinely afraid of 2P!England's character. (Hahaha, the only reason I'm reading this to begin with is because a friend of mine told me it would help with my avoidance of him, but I digress.)
So, again, I am not wrong nor right for perceiving him as I do, nor are you.
Just my two cents. Anyways, this is probably the only 2P!England story that doesn't absolutely terrify me. It's very well written. The only complaint I have is that the pacing is a bit awkward - it starts off fast but becomes strangely slow. It's very nice, though. Great job.