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

Dark Portugal x Reader |Entitlement|

A/N: Personally I favour the canon Portugal over the fan-made character. So I mainly focused on depicting the canon version but I have mixed a few elements of the fan-made persona in the story. And this is a sort of World War II AU since when I took a look at the character I thought it that this type of scenario would suit it best.

The war is over. It has been long months since the devastating conflict ensued, leaving death and destruction in its wake, the war itself trudging like a lumbering creature over the continents, devouring and mauling the very essence of humanity in many. So now that the allies reign victorious and the times filled with hardship are at a close, the relief is ever greater and now it is fit to rejoice and celebrate; even if the war left little hamlets like the one you live in relatively unscathed.

It is one of the reasons why you have decided to venture further into town on this peculiar day and treat yourself to a glass of red wine at the local bar, the other being that your grandmother actually instructed you to buy some bread on other goods.

Your caretaker would discipline you for drinking alcohol and argue that you're too young for such things if she knew, but you're not a child anymore, warfare has made sure of that, and you want to savour the pleasures life has to offer before it's too late.

Carefully you nip at the bittersweet liquid since you're not quite accustomed to the flavour while behind you a full-fledged celebration is taking place.

Since the day peace was declared soldiers have been passing through the quaint little town you reside in, at times spending a night or two and frequenting at inns and other public places before continuing homewards. At first, you had been curious when it came to them, it's rare that you see any strangers in these parts after all; you had thought you could learn much of the outside world from them.

But once you had been disappointed by their overall vulgar reaction towards you had determined that they're all the same and it's best to keep a distance; as long as they don't harass you, you ignore them. Why should you concern yourself any further with them anyway? All they did daily was drink themselves in a stupor and brag about their accomplishments and play card games, money passing over the table, and furthermore you don't want to be confused with one of the women that swarmed around the veterans like fly would around rotting fruit, constantly vying for some attention.

Frankly speaking, you're revolted at how they'd simply offer themselves on a silver platter to men they've only done for mere minutes, yet you don't speak up, you don't intervene. Never have you held the commanding aura or the charisma to do such a feat so you let the disgusting acts behind you play out.

For a moment you let your surroundings impact you. Bottles filled with different beverages are neatly aligned along the wall behind the bar, the shelves where they are stored nearly touching the celling; the late morning light highlighting their golden and crimson nuances. An old gramophone stands in the corner, softly issuing jazz hits that were popular a decade ago.

It is just that instance of inattention that is needed. The soft time of glass contacting with metal reaches your ears to late, your reaction is to slow. The glass unceremoniously is knocked out of your lax grip, the contents spilling out all over your chest and lap. After a moment of petrifying realisation you look up to meet the flabbergasted look of one of the waiters, a tray loaded with drinks balanced on his right hand. He starts mumbling indistinct words; probably apologizing for his mishap but you can't comprehend them.

All you hear are the soldiers roaring with laughter in the background, your face flushing red as your stained blouse. Numbly you slip off the chair and toss some money on the counter, but then you bolt out of the bar, the mocking laughter still following you as you take off to the fountain centred in the town square.