Hetalia Fanfic for sharing
Jun 19, 2011 17:30:17 GMT -5
Post by Nocturnal on Jun 19, 2011 17:30:17 GMT -5
This is for any Anime fans out there- I just wrote this and felt like sharing it.
The dreary rain drenched two onlookers, as they sat on a grassy hill, the air filled with tension around them. America's harsh blue eyes burned more than the icy sleet that pelted them, and England turned his head away from him. They had been so close...Now look at them. Fighting to the death over the matter of taxes. England remembered the days, not so long ago, when he'd found the little child country in a field, lonely, and in need of a guardian- it had become so much. Now, England didn't know what was going on at all. His thought swam with thoughts, memories, and wishes.
"England- look, we need to talk." It was America's voice. His former ally, and friend. Though, he wouldn't put it past the guy to stab him in the back and laugh. Again.
"What?" His exasperated tone took on the feeling of his mind; too tired to fight, almost too tired to carry on. Just one more day, he thought, and the war would be over. Maybe. Hopefully..
XxX
America's face took on a surprised outlook, as England had always been known for being brave, and never giving up in anything. No one was as stubborn as a Brit. But his way of talking, as if all that the world depended on was going just one more step, and then he could leave the earth, was something different than he was used to. England was never afraid to speak his mind, true, but he was (almost) always diplomatic about it. (Except when he was calling America a git, which was pretty much all the time, come to think of it)
"I-" He started, and then corrected himself,
"We need to end this war soon, and we both know it. Who's going to give up first though?"
Unlike his regular cockiness, there was a softer undertone to his speech, like he understood the battle England was fighting. Quite literally. The other country's emerald eyes gazed back, filled with a longing.
xXx
England waited a moment to consider the fact, that had been lurking in the back of his mind for almost a year now. Of course some one needed to give in eventually, but he never thought that America would. Of course, he had expected to win, but in the near future, it didn't seem likely. Spain was being a pain in the neck for some time now, and was gathering forces to attack. He could deal with America, or he could deal with Spain. England's choice? Spain for sure.
There was something about this guy, the stupid, headstrong, arrogant git that he had been arguing with since his adolescence, that made England want to be his friend. He wanted to get to know him, to learn about how he could change for the better, (Or not) and most of all, England wanted to help him learn that not everyone was as nice as he was. Not every country was willing to forgive rebellion, and he had started the war, hoping to just end it quickly, and save both of them a lot of death. But that wasn't what happened.
"Look- if you hadn't complained in the first place, this wouldn't have happened!"
He didn't mean to come off meanly, but he did. Everything England did seemed wrong, and once it was all over, maybe he could just crawl up into that corner where countries went to die. He felt himself blushing furiously from the outburst, and hid his face from his fellow country, but America saw anyways.
XxX
America had a strong argument planned out- he'd tell England about how he was the hero of them, and would save his home no matter what it took. Somehow though, he felt the words crumble under his tongue as he breathed in to point out the fact that it was all his fault for putting taxes on paint. Paint! He knew how much America loved change, a new look, and he taxed paint. England had just asked for war, and he had gotten it, hadn't he?
Over the past few years, America had longed for excitement, maybe even set up some conspiracies to start some drama. He had dreamed of fighting another country. But never had he imagined it to be...It was all going wrong. He had a plan of what would happen, and when. Things just weren't turning out well, were they?
xXx
England looked hopefully up at America, his bright green eyes regaining some of their lost light.
Maybe, he could end the war.
Maybe, it was up to him.
And maybe, just maybe,
He might let America win...
That's my first try ever. :3
The dreary rain drenched two onlookers, as they sat on a grassy hill, the air filled with tension around them. America's harsh blue eyes burned more than the icy sleet that pelted them, and England turned his head away from him. They had been so close...Now look at them. Fighting to the death over the matter of taxes. England remembered the days, not so long ago, when he'd found the little child country in a field, lonely, and in need of a guardian- it had become so much. Now, England didn't know what was going on at all. His thought swam with thoughts, memories, and wishes.
"England- look, we need to talk." It was America's voice. His former ally, and friend. Though, he wouldn't put it past the guy to stab him in the back and laugh. Again.
"What?" His exasperated tone took on the feeling of his mind; too tired to fight, almost too tired to carry on. Just one more day, he thought, and the war would be over. Maybe. Hopefully..
XxX
America's face took on a surprised outlook, as England had always been known for being brave, and never giving up in anything. No one was as stubborn as a Brit. But his way of talking, as if all that the world depended on was going just one more step, and then he could leave the earth, was something different than he was used to. England was never afraid to speak his mind, true, but he was (almost) always diplomatic about it. (Except when he was calling America a git, which was pretty much all the time, come to think of it)
"I-" He started, and then corrected himself,
"We need to end this war soon, and we both know it. Who's going to give up first though?"
Unlike his regular cockiness, there was a softer undertone to his speech, like he understood the battle England was fighting. Quite literally. The other country's emerald eyes gazed back, filled with a longing.
xXx
England waited a moment to consider the fact, that had been lurking in the back of his mind for almost a year now. Of course some one needed to give in eventually, but he never thought that America would. Of course, he had expected to win, but in the near future, it didn't seem likely. Spain was being a pain in the neck for some time now, and was gathering forces to attack. He could deal with America, or he could deal with Spain. England's choice? Spain for sure.
There was something about this guy, the stupid, headstrong, arrogant git that he had been arguing with since his adolescence, that made England want to be his friend. He wanted to get to know him, to learn about how he could change for the better, (Or not) and most of all, England wanted to help him learn that not everyone was as nice as he was. Not every country was willing to forgive rebellion, and he had started the war, hoping to just end it quickly, and save both of them a lot of death. But that wasn't what happened.
"Look- if you hadn't complained in the first place, this wouldn't have happened!"
He didn't mean to come off meanly, but he did. Everything England did seemed wrong, and once it was all over, maybe he could just crawl up into that corner where countries went to die. He felt himself blushing furiously from the outburst, and hid his face from his fellow country, but America saw anyways.
XxX
America had a strong argument planned out- he'd tell England about how he was the hero of them, and would save his home no matter what it took. Somehow though, he felt the words crumble under his tongue as he breathed in to point out the fact that it was all his fault for putting taxes on paint. Paint! He knew how much America loved change, a new look, and he taxed paint. England had just asked for war, and he had gotten it, hadn't he?
Over the past few years, America had longed for excitement, maybe even set up some conspiracies to start some drama. He had dreamed of fighting another country. But never had he imagined it to be...It was all going wrong. He had a plan of what would happen, and when. Things just weren't turning out well, were they?
xXx
England looked hopefully up at America, his bright green eyes regaining some of their lost light.
Maybe, he could end the war.
Maybe, it was up to him.
And maybe, just maybe,
He might let America win...
That's my first try ever. :3
