The Monsters in us all ( Dark!/Yandere! Hetalia x Reader )

Dark Germany x Reader |Verräter!|

A/N: Here is the Germany one-shot you've all been anticipating. Enjoy. I'm well aware that the topics that are presented in the sorry may be triggering or upsetting to some, therefor read at your own risk.

A train cuts through the landscape, a (h/c) watching as forests flash by which fade into vast fields, the golden tones of ripening wheat in late summer and the blue-purple hue of lavender bushes prominent as the transport speeds further west.

Joy fills you as the distance between you and him grows with each passing second. Leaning back into the comfortable seat you close your eyes, a smile crossing your lips. Laughter stemming from pure relief and the sweet taste of freedom threatens to bubble up in your throat, the sort of happiness that only comes when the nigh impossible is accomplished causing you to be giddy.

Although you are alone in the compartment you hold your laughter back. It is somehow surreal to be without company, unwatched and unchecked by Ludwig, so much so that in the end it is exhilarating.

Oh he'll be mad when he discovers your disappearance, but it is all for the best in the end. The endless stream of illogical propaganda, the radical and blood-filled ideas, the discrimination of people who were once your neighbours and friends has caused chronic stress that still weighs heavy on your mind.

And then there was the war, the so glorious war.

Conflict is supposed to run in the veins of an Aryan, as strong as their commitment to the Fatherland and the Führer. That is just as true of the hoax that Jews are responsible for all the failures of the German people as the Nazis like to claim.

What utter nonsense.

Blood doesn't determine who we actually are; our fates lie in our own hands. And then there was Ludwig Beilschmidt, the embodiment of the ideal German, athletic, strong, tactful, hardworking, and neat. But also gullible, aggressive and docile and loyal to the wrong people.

With his sharply chiselled features, the combed blond hair and blue eyes people would listen to him without question and look up to him. As long as somebody wasn't classified as inferior by the state he would pose to be kind and even humble. You fell for it and payed handsomely for your error.

Beneath all the polish and glamor is a pathetic man, one that is so desperately obsessed with what he wants to achieve and possessive with what he has, clinging to it distraughtly as if he'd lose it as soon as he slackened his grip.

He was greedy for power and attention and – you. You actually wouldn't mind to be loved intensely and passionately but the problem with Beilschmidt is that he's clumsy with his emotions, he can't convoy them properly, can't translate his feelings in legitimate actions. His demeanour at work and in the public sphere is a calm façade of fundamental perfection, while in private he can display a morbid sense of humour, teasing and insulting and then switch over to an energetic young man – a fire storm of emotions of the likes of a little boy tapping into adulthood and you had been caught in the middle.

It had been suffocating how he treated you, restricting you until the very end. At the beginning it had been a rather normal relationship with all its tender moments. The change had been gradual in a way that you didn't notice things going downhill. It was only when his behaviour towards you began to grow neurotic that you started to withdrawn yourself from him.

It had made matters much worse.

He'd find excuses to make you stay at home and began dictating what you wore, what you did, with whom you conversed, always coming with the fib or lie when you questioned his authority. Eventually you had enough – you were disillusioned by the doing of the state and what you thought was a romance between you and an officer.