A/N: Backstreet's back, alright.

Summary: Alfred's perfect world changes when he's thrust into a survival game with 11 other contenders, each competing for the title of god. To make matters worse, the new kid is a complete psycho who claims to be madly in love with him, and is ironically his best chance for survival. Mirai Nikki!AU, RusAme.

Pairings: RusAme, UKUS/USUK (later), Austria/Hungary, France/Jeanne, Netherlands/Canada, GerIta, one-sided!Romerica, and probably more idk.

Rating: M, for violence, many brutal character deaths and murder, sexual themes/assault, dubcon/noncon, kidnapping, dark characters, yanderes, etc. An explicit version may be posted on ao3 at some point - I'll decide on that when I get that far.

Disclaimer: All the Hetalia characters belong to Himaruya, and the plot is heavily inspired by Mirai Nikki. For those who know what that is, cool. For those who don't, well, you can either look into it or just enjoy this fic as it is.

Chapter 1: Killed With Kindness

He bent over the focus of his adoration, lips planting themselves on the other's - just like in those movies the golden-blond always adored. What had they called it again? Ah, true love's kiss…

But the other didn't respond.

"Solnyshko?" He gently patted a stiff cheek. "You can wake up now."

The younger teen's head was pushed slightly from the touch, but beyond that there was no movement: no rise and fall of the chest, no fluttering golden lashes or twitch of the fingers...only nothing.

"Wake up...please, wake up! Solnyshko, please!" He cried as he desperately shook the lifeless body he cradled in his arms - but the sky blue eyes remained closed, skin still cold and white like a fragile, porcelain doll. "No, NO!" His breathing became more erratic as he clutched on tightly and held his lover close, sobbing into the crook of his neck, hoping to hear the once-lulling heartbeat sing to him once again.

He didn't understand...hadn't he-? So why...

No, he couldn't continue on like this, he needed the other to survive.

"Come back to me," he croaked, cheeks glistening with tears before rubbing them onto the other's shoulder. "I am sorry, my love...I was too weak. If only I had been stronger, I could have protected you..." he paused before slowly lifting his head to look at his beloved's once expressive face, a dangerous thought coming to him in his anguish.

This wasn't over, it couldn't be. He refused to accept this reality.

His violet gaze turned cold, determined, as he pressed a gentle kiss to the pallid temple before setting the body carefully on the ground. "I won't fail you," he growled. "I will kill anyone who hurts you, anyone who dare keep us apart. I swear it..."

.oOo.

Claustrophobic halls, inescapable noise, and unbearable work; the first day of school was always the most dreaded, and for good reason. The cement walls enclosing them served only as a painful reminder of what the next ten months had in store, and the nice breeze outside for what they had lost. The many passages through the building were filled with hundreds of students who yearned for freedom, lamenting the end of their summer break.

Alfred scowled as he popped open his locker, filling it with books and binders he didn't need until after lunch. Oh, how he wished he was back in California! With his twin and parents, going to the beautiful beaches that were edged with white, fluffy sand and deep blue water...but no, here he was, back in New York with only a gorgeous tan to remember the good times with. Until the holidays, he thought with a heavy sigh, remembering how he would be stuck preparing for college while having to deal with a mountain of schoolwork and responsibility cutting into his social life...he'd just have to try and make the most of it where he could.

"Al-kun," he jumped out of his stupor and blinked at the smaller teen beside him, a smirk gracing his lips.

"Oh, hey Kiku! It's been a few weeks," he recovered quickly and the Japanese teen smiled back apologetically.

"Indeed. How was your trip?"

Alfred laughed as he shut his locker door, not bothering to lock it. "I literally sent you pictures and texted you the entire time," he headed to homeroom, moving slowly as he waited for his best friend to catch up.

The brunet nodded, picking up his pace as he remembered the images fondly, "Yes, they were very beautiful. Have you considered going into photography or film?"

"I've thought about it, once or twice…" He trailed off, not really sure if he wanted to share his personal hobby with the rest of the world. It was something he did for himself, and he was certain others would think he was weird and brush off his journaling as 'stupid.' They were too sentimental and he didn't want them to ever have the chance of being used against him.

As he and Kiku made their way to class, he waved and smiled at all the students he recognized, as was expected of someone of his social status. After being stopped to carry on a few conversations, the Japanese teen was finally able to pull the American away and guide him to AP Calc. Sending his friend a grateful look, Alfred looked over the sea of desks for one that was worthy enough to be his spot for the rest of the school year.

Second row from the back, right next to large, open windows. Perfect.

He rushed to the desk and claimed it, setting his red backpack on the ground beside it as he seated himself. Kiku took the spot right next to him, his bag on his chair as he took out his summer work and neatly centered it on his table. The blond chuckled at that, he was a firm believer in not getting ready until after the bell rang, especially since they still had homeroom to go. As with every year, he'd be clinging on to the fringes of summer until the very end.

The bell rung and they swiftly did their pledge of allegiance before their classroom television turned on with the morning newscast. His blue eyes blankly stared at the screen for a few moments before he decided he was bored and pulled his phone onto his lap, updating his journal with anything new he could think of. The sound of the door forcing itself open startled him - he as well as many other surprised students fixed their attention onto the distressed newcomer, who's violet eyes stared at them all like a deer in headlights.

He was trembling, which elicited a couple of snickers from the others. Alfred scowled at that; it was pretty obvious the other student was terrified, which now had only worsened. It was hard being new, especially as a senior. Did no one think to give the poor guy a tour of the place before thrusting him into the flow of things? That was messed up, though he felt a bit of relief when he saw the teacher approach the teen and talk to him as the announcements came to a close.

"Hello, class, I'd like you to meet Ivan Braginsky. He's come all the way from Russia, so please be courteous and help him get around."

'Russia?' Alfred grinned, impressed. It definitely explained the guy's appearance - a rounded jawline with a rather large nose fixed between his unnaturally colored eyes, right-parted platinum-blond hair and pale, marble skin, as though he never spent a day of his life outside. He was tall, muscular, with broad shoulders that piqued the American's interest, a light blush spreading across his cheeks. Damn, the new guy was handsome, like a Targaryen prince.

His classmates seemed to have had a different impression, as evident by their judgemental sneers and the way they carefully guarded their space. Sure, he was a bit odd with his winter attire in early September - a green turtleneck shirt, a long pink scarf, blue pants tucked into knee-high, brown, leather boots. And the way he hunched over, using his shoulders as a way to shrink himself, made him look like a potential target to any of the bullies in his class that preyed on insecurity. After being gestured to find a seat, the new guy nodded shakily as he took tentative steps down his aisle, eyes avoiding contact with everyone as he searched for a place to sit.

"Oh, god, a commie," Alfred glared at the kid who muttered that under his breath, resulting in the Russian to flinch, having heard it clearly. Didn't the Cold War happen like ages ago or something? He may have sucked at history, but he knew that whenever it happened it was long before his time, and before any of his peers for that matter.

"He's pretty weird, isn't he?" His gaze shifted to the girl he caught whispering and he glowered at her. Was no one seriously going to give the new kid a chance to get adjusted? His eyes glanced at Kiku, who's brown irises were averted nervously. Was he seriously missing something?

He glanced up as the Russian passed him, heading to the empty seat directly behind him, not even acknowledging him. Pursing his lips, Alfred turned in his seat, watching as Ivan pulled the seat back, making a loud scruff against the tiled floor. His face flushed in embarrassment, gaze darting wildly to all the students who stared at him with annoyance before they rolled their eyes and faced the front.

Except Alfred, who when their eyes met, smiled at him reassuringly, only for it to widen when the other stared at him with disbelief.

"Hey, it's Ivan, right? My name's Alfred."

.oOo.

He wasn't following the new guy, but it was convenient that they shared many classes together, so at least he could keep an eye on him. Truth be told, he was concerned. It had been about two weeks since the first day, but the student body's perception on Ivan hadn't changed in the slightest. Even Kiku and his brother seemed unnerved by him, which he didn't quite understand. Sure, he was often told he couldn't read the atmosphere, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't feel that 'ominous and intimidating' aura everyone talked about. To him, Ivan was just a socially awkward teenager who had issues getting along with people his own age. So what? Maybe he just needed one friend to break that mold since not everyone made friends easily. Hell, he expected Kiku to be a little more sympathetic considering how isolationist he was in second grade after moving all the way from Japan.

He watched as the other's silvery brows narrowed, eyes focused on his paper as he tried to scribble down history notes as quickly as he could. The lecture was too fast, even for Alfred's liking. His heart went out to Ivan as even he, a native-speaker, struggled to keep up with the teacher who seemed to never take a breather. Violet eyes flickered to him, clearly bothered, as though he thought Alfred was just another person here to give him a hard time - that made him frown. Had the student body treated him so poorly he lost his faith in everyone? That needed to change.

Raising his hand and waving it around excessively to get the teacher's attention, he ignored the look the Russian sent him, his skin paling more than usual while his pupils constricted in panic, as though he thought Alfred were about to rat him out for murder. He didn't understand why the other would be so paranoid, it wasn't like he did anything wrong.

A sigh. "Yes, Alfred?"

"Um, can you like slow down a bit? I'm having a hard time keeping up," not that he was writing things down in the first place, he'd long since thrown in the towel, but a few other students jumped on board with him, nodding in agreement and begging the teacher to tone it down a bit.

"Oh, I see," the teacher rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Very well," he continued with his lesson, true to word, slowing down considerably.

Turning to Ivan, he offered him a small smile, only to frown when he watched Ivan cease his blank staring and turn away, face a bright red. Oh no, did he embarrass him even further? Shit. Briefly he wondered if he should take a more discreet route when trying to look out for the big guy, though he had no idea how he would accomplish that. He wasn't exactly the most subtle person, and not being the hero was completely out of the question.

In his contemplation, he completely missed the shy glances violet eyes sent him for the rest of the day.

.oOo.

He was updating his journal again when his twin nudged his arm.

"What?" He glanced up at the cafeteria table, eying the older twin with annoyance while watching him take the empty seat to his left.

"It's like everytime I look at you, your face is buried in that thing," Matthew huffed softly. "How have your teachers not confiscated it yet?"

"You sound like mom," he tapped the power button of his smartphone and tucked it into his pocket, eyes wandering over his table. Feliciano was chatting enthusiastically as Ludwig listened, face stoic as usual, eating his lunch while Kiku sat on the German's other side going through homework that was due the next day. It wasn't like he had a conversation to partake in, considering how his twin had just come back from talking with Carlos, who refused to sit at their table as long as the American sat there. He needed to entertain himself somehow, and the lunchroom provided so many opportunities to jot down all of his observations into his phone.

Could he join a random table and talk to the people there? Sure. Did he want to? Not really. Call him petty, but he was pretty fed up with the recent talk going around school lately, all concerning the Russian new student and mean-spirited rumors. He'd try to stop it, like defending Ivan's reasons for changing in the bathroom during gym, though that only resulted in the other guys to call him gay...which he had to remind them he was bisexual and a member of GSA, but whatever. Politely, he asked for the rumors to stop, because no, being shy and nervous around people did not equate to being an anti-social pariah. Obviously, that didn't work, and people still had the nerve to think he was the ridiculous one.

If Ivan were here, he'd sit and talk with him, but the poor guy had been so shunned in the first week that it was practically impossible to find him at this time.

At the end of the day, eighth period, he found himself bored in his music class. Mr. Edelstein was busy working on making adjustments to their Marching Band drill before their first game with Matthew and Mei, the drum majors, while he had already practiced the hell out of his trumpet. As a result, Edelstein kind of left him to his own devices, which meant he was free to wander the halls and find something to do before he got caught by some strict teacher with a stick up their ass.

Which is how he found himself in Feli and Kiku's art class, which was currently being student-taught by his cousin, Francis Bonnefoy. He loved the guy, he was practically an older brother to him and his twin, having lived with him for a while due to problems with his mother. Years ago, the Frenchman used babysit him and Matthew in their lonely, big house with his long-term girlfriend Jeanne while his own parents preoccupied themselves with their demanding jobs.

"Ah, Alfred, what are you doing here? You should be in class!" Francis scolded as the teen strolled in innocently, ignoring him to smile charmingly at the elderly professor who had been unable to resist. With a nod and dismissive wave of her hand, she allowed him to stay.

"Oh, Francis, I'm sure he'll be fine," she chuckled sweetly before going back to her own project.

With an amused sigh, Francis ruffled his golden-blond hair fondly. "Very well, try not distract the others too much."

"No promises," Alfred shrugged carelessly before strolling toward his friends, blue eyes widening as he saw their work. "Wow, those are really good," he complimented honestly. Because they were. Feliciano had done a realistic still-life charcoal drawing and Kiku had a beautiful painting of cherry blossoms blooming. He'd have to sell his soul to the devil or something to be that good an artist.

"Ah, thank you, Alfredo!" Feli beamed, turning to him with amber eyes shining brightly.

"Hai, arigato, Al-kun," Kiku smiled gently, a small, modest blush on his cheeks from the compliment.

"Oh, when are you coming to the restaurant again?" The Italian asked, cocking his head to the side. "I think Lovino misses you!" Alfred let out a soft chuckle at that, noting how even though Feli and Ludwig were his classmates, he seemed to get along better with their older brothers. Not that he didn't like the two, they just weren't super close or anything. Sometimes it felt like he only really hung around them because they were friends with Kiku, and that Lovino always spoiled him with food while Gilbert was good friends with Francis.

"Maybe we can make a date of it soon," he suggested with a grin, always willing to make time for some delicious food. Feli's father was a very successful chef, owner of a couple of authentic Italian restaurants: one of which was the Il Veneziano, which was local and managed by Feliciano's older brother, while Il Romano was run by Mr. Vargas himself in the heart of the Big Apple. To say they were living well was an understatement. As far as Alfred knew, the brothers had the biggest house in the neighborhood, and that was saying something, considering how his own family was pretty well-off.

"Mon cher, I am tempted to agree," Francis smirked as he came over with his arms crossed. "We can settle a group gathering soon, however I want you to do your grand frère a favor and at least look like you are participating in this class."

He groaned dramatically. "Fine, I guess I will," his eyes roamed the classroom, looking for a free easel he could claim, only to catch sight of one right beside a very familiar platinum-blond.

Oh, he hadn't known Ivan was in this class. That made things interesting, but he scowled when he noticed two of his peers holding back laughs as they eyed the Russian's painting with cruel smirks. Ivan looked uncomfortable with the attention, gaze flickering back and forth between the others and his art before they landed on him with surprise, almost pleading his one ally for help. But then he averted his gaze, as though he were ashamed of himself for having reached out.

Sensing his friend's sudden determination, Kiku grabbed his sleeve, a worried expression on his face. "Al-kun, I don't think-"

Alfred shook his head. "Hey, I got this, don't worry," he grinned reassuringly, though it didn't reach his eyes. He was pissed, not tolerating bullying in the slightest.

Making his way to the back to quickly grab a charcoal pen and paper, he made his way back to the easel, looking over Ivan's shoulder to see what he was painting.

"Oh, nice sunflower," he found himself saying, startling the taller teen who whipped his head around to look at him, his pale fingers trembling nervously. He took a step toward it, marveling the bright, blue sky and brown circle at the center of the page, long, golden petals sticking out of it. The Russian was currently working on the stem, but Alfred found himself impressed with Ivan's skills in shading. "Looking great!"

"A-ah, t-thank you," he stammered, accent thick and attractive as always. There was a pronounced blush on his face as his violet eyes struggled to look at Alfred directly, despite the fact they were so close to each other.

"Of course," he winked, before clipping his sheet of paper to the easel, completely missing the awestruck glances Ivan kept sneaking toward him.

"Hey - " both the Russian and Alfred glanced toward the voice, and the golden-blond narrowed his eyes as he recognized them as the assholes who had been making fun of Ivan before. He didn't like the mischievous glances they sent each other, nor the bullshit smirks on their faces. "For a commie asshole, you sure like to pretend you're hot shit, huh?"

Ivan brows raised as he squeaked, "I-I do not understand?"

"Don't play innocent! For the past few days you've been acting like you're better than everyone else. It's pissing me off!"

Alfred walked to Ivan's side, crossing his arms defensively. Okay, that wasn't true at all. No one was even giving the Russian a chance to assimilate into their school, there was a reason he didn't socialize with anyone. They were literally just trying to mess with the new kid for no good reason. "Kevin, shut the fuck up," he snapped, only for Ivan to stare at him with a bewildered expression.

"Hey, Al. Trying to be the hero again?" Kevin let out a sardonic chuckle, hands innocently hiding behind his back.

"Fuck you, you've all been giving him shit since day one. Just leave him the hell alone!" He fumed, getting fed up with the unjust bullshit.

"Why are you defending this weirdo?" Chris huffed, gesturing toward Ivan and talking about him like he wasn't even there.

"Maybe because you're both being assholes?" He replied like it were the most obvious thing. Hint, it was.

"Oh my god, can you mind your own business? For once? Please?" Kevin smiled tightly. "Chill the fuck out, we were joking."

"Next time you joke, make sure it's actually funny," Alfred bit back with a glare before turning back to his easel. As he stroked the paper with his pencil, he noticed Ivan was watching him, dazed and distracted. "Hey, man, are you oka-"

"There!" He looked in time to see Kevin reveal what he had hid behind his back, a can of red paint had been lunged toward Ivan's painting. "Now it's accurate, you red bastard!"

Alfred could only stare in shock as paint coated the Russian's once-beautiful sunflower, some of it splashing back and coating Ivan's clothes and skin in red splatter. Recovering, the American turned to Kevin, absolutely furious. "What the fuck is your problem?"

Francis had heard the commotion. "Mon dieu, is everything alright over there-"

"No!" the American replied, blue eyes focusing on Ivan only to pause in alarm. The Russian was shaking, and his violet irises were constricted and wild as he stared at his trembling dripping hands. "I-Ivan?" He asked softly, filled with worry. Something was off, this wasn't right.

"Ty mertv," the Russian's voice was low, almost a growl, a cruel glower on his face as he grabbed the students arm before he could retreat. His eyes were darkened, menacing with the intent to harm. Suddenly afraid, Kevin tried to pull back, only for a loud, disgusting crack to fill the silence, save for the agonized scream he let out. But Ivan wasn't done, suddenly they both were on the floor, the silvery-blond seated on the other's abdomen, hands clenched around his neck, listening to the beautiful sounds of pained gasps for air and pleads for mercy. A twisted grin crawled onto his face, as he strangled the other teen.

Alfred removed the hand covering his mouth, blinking out of his horror to focus on the situation. Okay, Kevin may be an asshole, but he didn't deserve to die. He had to snap Ivan out of whatever the hell he was doing. Quickly he moved forward, wrapping his arms around Ivan's chest and pulling back with all his strength, the force of it had apparently been enough to surprise the other into letting go, with both their bodies tumbling back, knocking over the Russian's easel in the process. Alfred found himself in a daze as he laid on his back, a heavy body on top of him. His hands pushed against the other's chest, only to be met with surprised violet eyes that looked fearful, almost on the verge of tears.

And suddenly the body was gone, and he sat up, noticing Ivan was breathing erratically. They made eye contact for a moment, before the Russian darted out of the room.

"Alfred, wait!" He ignored his cousin's pleas and ran after the other, chasing him down the halls, nearly losing him until he heard the bathroom door at the end of the hall slam shut. The stoner's bathroom. It had to be. When he entered the room and turned the corner, he was met with a sight he hadn't expected.

"Oh, new kid..." he gasped with worry, immediately rushing to the Russian's side who sobbed as he stared at his reflection. Alfred held the other's hands in his own and inspected the actual blood that dripped from Ivan's knuckles, his blue eyes briefly glancing at shattered mirror, a crimson liquid seeping into its myriad of cracks. Carefully, he tried to meet violet orbs, "We need to clean you up." He brought the bloodied hands that now stained his own to the faucet and turned it on, then instructed the other to clean out the wounds and paint as he took off his sweater. "Give me your hands - quickly!" he ordered, and like a child in trouble, Ivan listened, watching dully as Alfred wrapped his hoodie around the other's hands and then applied pressure. God, was he grateful he wore red. "You need to see the nurse."

"N-Nyet," Ivan croaked, tears falling out of his eyes.

Alfred felt his heart pang with empathy. "You're hurt," he said softly, looking Ivan in the eyes with concern. "Let me take care of you."

"N-no nurse," the other teen begged, voice trembling.

He let out a defeated sigh. "Alright, no nurse. But I'll take you to my house, okay? It'll just be me and the cats, is that alright with you?" Ivan had averted his gaze and paused before finally relenting with a meek nod.

They cautiously snuck out of school through the back entrance and made their way down the bike path, since Matthew had the key to the car and he lived pretty close by. He took the time to send his brother a text asking him to get his backpack and to let Mr. Edelstein know he was going to miss band practice before tucking his phone away. By the time they made it to his large, colonial style home, Alfred could feel his sweater was damp with blood. Well, he wouldn't be wearing that for a while, he sighed as he took his hand away to take his keys out of his pocket and open the back door, immediately whisking Ivan inside to the nearest bathroom. He worked diligently as he cleansed the wound once again, gently massaging an antibiotic onto it afterwards. Violet eyes watched, silently, relishing in his soothing touches. As his bronzed hands worked to wrap a gauge around the wounds, he found himself finally breaking the silence. "Don't listen to the others, they're all just a bunch of pretentious assholes."

"T-they are not wrong to treat me so...is all my fault. I am monster..." Ivan's voice quivered, and Alfred could only stare at him sympathetically for a moment before continuing the task at hand.

"No," he shook his head. "You're not. You didn't do anything wrong."

"But-"

"Some people," he began steadily. "Are just so filled with hate, they don't know what to do with it... so they try to push it onto others, especially people they see as easy targets." When he finished wrapping, he held Ivan's hands in his lap and checked to see if the bandages were secure.

"How do I prevent this hate from affecting me? How do I stop it before is too late? Is it already too late?" His voice became more desperate, more intense as his body trembled.

Alfred shook his head again, gently caressing the back of Ivan's shaking hands in a comforting manor. "No, it's not too late. It's never too late…" He paused, facing the taller teen with a thoughtful expression before giving him a soft smile. "I suppose...you just need to find something you love and just focus on that."

.oOo.

It had been days since the incident and Alfred was waiting by the locker he believed to be Ivan's. A few student were sending him weary glances, as they had been, so that was nothing new. Word spread fast around their school, and to know that the new student everyone had bad vibes about sent Kevin to the hospital, and not only that, but the fact that Alfred went to his defense hadn't been so good for his reputation. But right now he didn't care about that if it meant doing the right thing. Clearly Ivan had some issues with bullying, otherwise he wouldn't have had such an extreme reaction to it. A part of him wanted to ask about it, but maybe it was best to save the meddling for another time.

He seriously hoped he heard correctly that today was the day Ivan's suspension had ended. It had to be rough going through that just after arriving at a new school. If the rumors had been bad before, he could only dread how much worse they were going to be moving forward.

A couple of gasps were heard and he blinked up from his phone, watching as the Russian strode toward him with a long, beige coat, an excited smile stretched across his face, almost as if they hadn't seen each other in years. Confused, he raised a brow, briefly wondering if this was the same nervous teen he patched up a few days ago.

"Fedya!" Alfred was surprised to hear Ivan sound so happy, but he welcomed it nonetheless. "I missed you," he added gently, causing the American to blush over how affectionate it sounded.

"U-um, hey," he rubbed his neck awkwardly, managing a small grin of his own. "How've you been? Things been good lately?" His gaze lingered on the other's hands, which were concealed by black, leather gloves.

Ivan nodded enthusiastically. "Never better."

There was something different about the Russian. He spoke and held himself more confidently and smiled freely. Suddenly he didn't seem to care about the opinions of others, and was focused solely on him. What happened to the socially awkward guy from the other day? What the hell happened that made Ivan change so drastically? Whatever the reason, he seemed happier, and that was enough for Alfred to brush off his curiosity. Maybe he was glad he finally had a friend and that's what changed his persona? It seemed like a good explanation.

"Let's walk to class together, alright?" He suggested, noticing the way the other's gaze softened, twinkling, a warm smile curling his lip.

"Da. We are friends, right?"

Alfred chuckled fondly, relieved to see the other was faring much better. "Yeah, we're friends."

A/N: Yeah, so that's that. For those who never heard of Mirai Nikki, I'm well aware this may not make sense, or maybe it does, I don't know since I'm not reading with fresh eyes. Those who have seen the whole show, you will VERY much catch on to what happened. For the record, I'm not gonna explain anything until we're further along so I don't spoil stuff lol.

Also, keep in mind, Alfred is a very unreliable narrator and most of the fic is in his perspective. So many things and red flags will be brushed off as nothing, but hopefully you all will be able to notice them.

Yes, I am a Game of Thrones fan for those who noticed the reference, and yes I'm pretending the last season never happened(:

I don't have a beta or anything, so if you see any mistakes or wanna critique, feel free to let me know. And I know the Hetalia fandom is dead so I don't expect much, lol. I just thought this would be an interesting idea to try out, so I'm doing it. Why not?