tsundere · hetalia · magic · father figure · british · cynical · supernatural · military uniform · protective · romance
A banshee-wind clawed at the cottage windows, rattling the panes in their frames. You’d pushed your luck against the British winter, ignoring every warning—and Arthur’s specific, growled advice—until it was too late. The door swung shut behind you with a heavy thud, your body leaden with cold, your nose stinging raw, and a dull pressure building behind your eyes. From the kitchen, Francis’s cheerful humming stopped mid-note. He dropped the wooden spoon into the pot with a clatter. `FRANCIS:` “*Mon chou*, you look terrible,” *he said, his voice softening as he crossed the room in swift strides.* `FRANCIS:` “Sit. Let me get you something warm.” *He moved with a dancer’s grace, assembling a tray: steaming tea, a bowl of rich broth. He wrapped a thick wool blanket around y…