21st Century Breakdown [4/18]
Disclaimer: If Axis Powers Hetalia were mine, I wouldn’t need to write fanfics. If any of these songs were mine, I wouldn’t be writing fanfics.
Background music: Track 4 - Viva la Gloria - Green Day
Minimal fluff 09!
---
Four - Viva la Gloria!
--
Hey Gloria, are you standing close to the edge?
--
Since war had broken out, Germany was getting used to strange things happening. These things went hand and hand with wars. Enemies appearing in the cracks, friends coming out of hiding. It was completely normal. After all, the Fuhrer was a strange sort in himself, so Germany considered these sort of events as commonplace.
He had not really been expecting Italy to constantly appear though.
“What are you doing here?” Germany asked monotonously as Italy climbed through a window. That was
what doors were for; he knew for a fact that his was unlocked. Sure, it was bad security, but who in Europe would really dare to visit him out of the blue? And Italy…although they had signed a pact with Japan, it had not really tied them together that much. But Italy was here all the time.
“Can’t I visit one of my friends?” Italy sidled up to Germany and clung onto his arm. “We are friends, aren’t we?”
If by friends, Italy meant Germany tolerate all the antics the peninsula nation got up to, then of course they
were. The Fuhrer did not mind Italy’s presence much and Italy was not disturbing anything, so it really was just another everyday happening. Germany ignored him as he walked to his office, Italy hanging off him the whole way.
“So what are you planning?” Italy asked, as if they were fellow war generals.
“I’ve invaded Denmark and Norway as we speak.”
“Ooh!” Italy nuzzled his arm, which was quite distracting when one was trying to walk straight.
“I’m planning on taking France.”
Italy’s eyes widened, big pools of honey brown. “France-nii-chan? You’re not serious?”
“I am.” Germany glanced down, getting the feeling he was being honestly admired. He made the mistake of meeting eyes with the smaller nation and was taken aback by the simplicity in Italy’s eyes. They spoke of a happy time, with lots of sunshine and pasta, and summers at the beach.
“Germany?” Germany blinked. He must have been staring incessantly. Italy was looking at him with concern. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” Germany walked into his room, shaking Italy off his arm to walk to his desk. The Italian danced around the room, touching everything and introducing himself to inanimate objects like a potted plant. There was a grace of the younger twin that was attractive; the way Italy floated around spoke no ill-will and his smile was childish but charmingly innocent.
Germany caught himself staring again.
He turned his attention back to his work.
“Hey Germany!” Hands slammed on the desk and Germany jumped as Italy shouted at him. Looking up, he was startled as Italy stared at him with a fierce intensity. “I’ve been thinking about this for a long time! I want us to be allies!”
Germany blinked, his pen hovering over his papers. “Allies…?”
“Yeah! I mean, my boss is still unsure of the idea, but I really, really, really like you and I think we should be more than friends!” More than friends? “You’ve helped me out a lot and I think it’s about time I help you out! Okay? Let’s start a war!”
Germany was still thinking about what Italy meant when he said ‘more than friends’ and almost didn’t catch the latter part. “Wait,” he sputtered, trying to gain the upper hand as Italy danced about. “I…I don’t know about this…”
“Come on, Germany! We’ve always been close, haven’t we?”
Had they? Germany had a feeling Italy was putting words in his mouth. “Hold on, Italy,” he said firmly. “Let’s think these things through first. I’m getting on bad terms on many nations lately. I don’t know if you’re ready to handle that sort of…”
“I am! For you, I’m ready for anything!” With an epic slide, Italy heaved himself on the table and slid across it so he was sitting facing Germany, now at a much closer proximity. The papers were cast in the air like thick sheets of snow.
The white rainfall was confusing him. Germany blinked and saw a little girl in an apron that looked strangely like Italy. He blinked again and Italy’s eager face was in front of him again.
“I don’t care what Il Duce says,” Italy murmured, leaning closer. “I’ll make him listen. I want to be your partner, Germany. I want to be able to count on you and you to be able to count on me. You’ve been so nice to me for so long…it’s only fair. Don’t you think?”
Germany pushed Italy back on the desk so they were a breathable distance apart again. Clearing his throat, he closed his eyes to think. It was true, he did not have the approval of many nations. Austria and Hungary had joined him, but he had made them; Italy would be his first uninfluenced ‘friend’. The Fuhrer had expressed interest in making Italy an ally. They shared the same ideas in promoting their people.
But Italy had bailed on them in the Great War. Italy had never proved himself to be a helpful ally.
Germany opened his eyes again and Italy was staring at him again, the eager look replaced by fearful anxiety. There was something about those honey eyes that swallowed him again. Italy was dangerous, in more ways than one.
“I’ll think about it. For now, kindly remove yourself from my desk so I may get to work.”
--
Poland had been taken. Where would Germany strike next? It seemed that nation’s sights were set on the world; the chatty blonde nation was now homebound and silent. France was starting to get jittery and England felt the tension in the air; something was coming his way.
And if he knew it was here, he would definitely have turned around and avoided his room.
“Hey gramps!” England almost yelped and jumped out of his skin when he heard America’s voice. Looking up, the young nation had extracted himself from England’s seat and was now making his way across the room to him. There was a careless smile on his face and the blue eyes portrayed a sky clear of clouds.
“Long time no see! You’ve gotten older, I gotta say.”
“Well, isn’t it the fountain of youth,” England shot back sarcastically, trying to calm his racing heart as he flattened himself against the door. No, this wasn’t what he was supposed to be doing; he was supposed to be opening the door and kicking this unwelcome visitor out. Now he was just blocking his way out. What was wrong with him?
“Don’t be snide. I’m here to help you.” America flourished a hand. “Heroes always hear distress signals, you know. I heard something was wrong in this part of the world, and I came to see you first. What’s the story, morning glory? A colony getting too big for its boots?”
“Nothing of the sort,” England retorted, crossing his arms. “I haven’t had any troublesome colonies after you.”
“Charmed to be the only one in your heart, love. But that’s beside the point. Who’s the troublemaker now?”
England glared at him. “If you must know, the problem today is Germany. He’s invading recklessly and he’s got a crazy new boss. What are you going to do, America? Go and knock him about a few? Be the hero?”
“Hero, no doubt. But I haven’t got a bone to pick with Germany. I’m not going to pick fights like that. That would be stupid.” America had reached England and was watching him curiously. England stared up right back, defiant.
“Don’t get involved,” England hissed. “If you’re smart, you will not come here and be a little hero.”
America held his hands up. “Hey, I’m free to do as I choose! You don’t control me anymore. I’m here to do you a favor.”
“And what would that be, my darling little brother?”
“Now that’s the tone I want to hear!” America tossed his head up, as if he were about to make a groundbreaking announcement. “I’d like to start a cash-and-carry policy with you, my dear older brother. With just a little bit of cash money, I’ll let you have your goods without shipping and handling. Good, right? I’ll let you bask in my awesomeness now.”
England snorted, but was silently surprised. America had never wanted to help him before, especially when he wouldn’t be showcased as his dream job with a dash of heroics. He was genuinely touched, but the Queen wouldn’t catch him like this. “What’s your hidden agenda?”
America looked hurt, a puppy look on his face. “That stings, Iggy! Can’t I do something for you without expecting anything in return?”
“No.”
America threw his shoulders back, crossing his arms to mimic England. “I am a selfless being. All heroes are. Whatever shindigs you get up to, I do want you to win, you know. If anyone can defeat you, it’s me, and me alone.”
“So you help me for the glory. Of course.” England smiled smugly up at America, who was caught off guard.
Effortlessly whisking around the taller nation, England made his way deeper into the room. “I guess I can admit now that I never really kept you around for your company.”
“That’s cruel, England! All I was saying is that I’m the only one that can get your panties in a knot!”
“Blatantly ignoring that sexual remark, I thank you for your help, but I must politely decline. Your doing so would increase your chances of getting into the war. And the next thing I need is to be fighting next to you. Heavens knows how that’s going to go down.” England threw his hands up and was about to bring them down when America shot out and grabbed a wrist.
“I don’t think you understand England. I’m doing it no matter what you say.” Keeping a grip on the apprehensive island nation, America took a step forward. “I really am concerned for you, you know. I fought the last war for you.” Reaching out, America brushed the bangs from England’s forehead and bent down to kiss him on the brow. “Cheerio, darling. I’ll see you in the long run.” With a signature wink and a smile, America left of his own accord, closing the door behind him with the perfect exit.
England stared at the door, stock-still, with the knowledge that America had again gone against his wishes and did a stupid thing and his ex-colony had kissed him in a way he had only imagined.
--
Tell me the story of your life!
--
To be continued
Background music: Track 4 - Viva la Gloria - Green Day
Minimal fluff 09!
---
Four - Viva la Gloria!
--
Hey Gloria, are you standing close to the edge?
--
Since war had broken out, Germany was getting used to strange things happening. These things went hand and hand with wars. Enemies appearing in the cracks, friends coming out of hiding. It was completely normal. After all, the Fuhrer was a strange sort in himself, so Germany considered these sort of events as commonplace.
He had not really been expecting Italy to constantly appear though.
“What are you doing here?” Germany asked monotonously as Italy climbed through a window. That was
what doors were for; he knew for a fact that his was unlocked. Sure, it was bad security, but who in Europe would really dare to visit him out of the blue? And Italy…although they had signed a pact with Japan, it had not really tied them together that much. But Italy was here all the time.
“Can’t I visit one of my friends?” Italy sidled up to Germany and clung onto his arm. “We are friends, aren’t we?”
If by friends, Italy meant Germany tolerate all the antics the peninsula nation got up to, then of course they
were. The Fuhrer did not mind Italy’s presence much and Italy was not disturbing anything, so it really was just another everyday happening. Germany ignored him as he walked to his office, Italy hanging off him the whole way.
“So what are you planning?” Italy asked, as if they were fellow war generals.
“I’ve invaded Denmark and Norway as we speak.”
“Ooh!” Italy nuzzled his arm, which was quite distracting when one was trying to walk straight.
“I’m planning on taking France.”
Italy’s eyes widened, big pools of honey brown. “France-nii-chan? You’re not serious?”
“I am.” Germany glanced down, getting the feeling he was being honestly admired. He made the mistake of meeting eyes with the smaller nation and was taken aback by the simplicity in Italy’s eyes. They spoke of a happy time, with lots of sunshine and pasta, and summers at the beach.
“Germany?” Germany blinked. He must have been staring incessantly. Italy was looking at him with concern. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” Germany walked into his room, shaking Italy off his arm to walk to his desk. The Italian danced around the room, touching everything and introducing himself to inanimate objects like a potted plant. There was a grace of the younger twin that was attractive; the way Italy floated around spoke no ill-will and his smile was childish but charmingly innocent.
Germany caught himself staring again.
He turned his attention back to his work.
“Hey Germany!” Hands slammed on the desk and Germany jumped as Italy shouted at him. Looking up, he was startled as Italy stared at him with a fierce intensity. “I’ve been thinking about this for a long time! I want us to be allies!”
Germany blinked, his pen hovering over his papers. “Allies…?”
“Yeah! I mean, my boss is still unsure of the idea, but I really, really, really like you and I think we should be more than friends!” More than friends? “You’ve helped me out a lot and I think it’s about time I help you out! Okay? Let’s start a war!”
Germany was still thinking about what Italy meant when he said ‘more than friends’ and almost didn’t catch the latter part. “Wait,” he sputtered, trying to gain the upper hand as Italy danced about. “I…I don’t know about this…”
“Come on, Germany! We’ve always been close, haven’t we?”
Had they? Germany had a feeling Italy was putting words in his mouth. “Hold on, Italy,” he said firmly. “Let’s think these things through first. I’m getting on bad terms on many nations lately. I don’t know if you’re ready to handle that sort of…”
“I am! For you, I’m ready for anything!” With an epic slide, Italy heaved himself on the table and slid across it so he was sitting facing Germany, now at a much closer proximity. The papers were cast in the air like thick sheets of snow.
The white rainfall was confusing him. Germany blinked and saw a little girl in an apron that looked strangely like Italy. He blinked again and Italy’s eager face was in front of him again.
“I don’t care what Il Duce says,” Italy murmured, leaning closer. “I’ll make him listen. I want to be your partner, Germany. I want to be able to count on you and you to be able to count on me. You’ve been so nice to me for so long…it’s only fair. Don’t you think?”
Germany pushed Italy back on the desk so they were a breathable distance apart again. Clearing his throat, he closed his eyes to think. It was true, he did not have the approval of many nations. Austria and Hungary had joined him, but he had made them; Italy would be his first uninfluenced ‘friend’. The Fuhrer had expressed interest in making Italy an ally. They shared the same ideas in promoting their people.
But Italy had bailed on them in the Great War. Italy had never proved himself to be a helpful ally.
Germany opened his eyes again and Italy was staring at him again, the eager look replaced by fearful anxiety. There was something about those honey eyes that swallowed him again. Italy was dangerous, in more ways than one.
“I’ll think about it. For now, kindly remove yourself from my desk so I may get to work.”
--
Poland had been taken. Where would Germany strike next? It seemed that nation’s sights were set on the world; the chatty blonde nation was now homebound and silent. France was starting to get jittery and England felt the tension in the air; something was coming his way.
And if he knew it was here, he would definitely have turned around and avoided his room.
“Hey gramps!” England almost yelped and jumped out of his skin when he heard America’s voice. Looking up, the young nation had extracted himself from England’s seat and was now making his way across the room to him. There was a careless smile on his face and the blue eyes portrayed a sky clear of clouds.
“Long time no see! You’ve gotten older, I gotta say.”
“Well, isn’t it the fountain of youth,” England shot back sarcastically, trying to calm his racing heart as he flattened himself against the door. No, this wasn’t what he was supposed to be doing; he was supposed to be opening the door and kicking this unwelcome visitor out. Now he was just blocking his way out. What was wrong with him?
“Don’t be snide. I’m here to help you.” America flourished a hand. “Heroes always hear distress signals, you know. I heard something was wrong in this part of the world, and I came to see you first. What’s the story, morning glory? A colony getting too big for its boots?”
“Nothing of the sort,” England retorted, crossing his arms. “I haven’t had any troublesome colonies after you.”
“Charmed to be the only one in your heart, love. But that’s beside the point. Who’s the troublemaker now?”
England glared at him. “If you must know, the problem today is Germany. He’s invading recklessly and he’s got a crazy new boss. What are you going to do, America? Go and knock him about a few? Be the hero?”
“Hero, no doubt. But I haven’t got a bone to pick with Germany. I’m not going to pick fights like that. That would be stupid.” America had reached England and was watching him curiously. England stared up right back, defiant.
“Don’t get involved,” England hissed. “If you’re smart, you will not come here and be a little hero.”
America held his hands up. “Hey, I’m free to do as I choose! You don’t control me anymore. I’m here to do you a favor.”
“And what would that be, my darling little brother?”
“Now that’s the tone I want to hear!” America tossed his head up, as if he were about to make a groundbreaking announcement. “I’d like to start a cash-and-carry policy with you, my dear older brother. With just a little bit of cash money, I’ll let you have your goods without shipping and handling. Good, right? I’ll let you bask in my awesomeness now.”
England snorted, but was silently surprised. America had never wanted to help him before, especially when he wouldn’t be showcased as his dream job with a dash of heroics. He was genuinely touched, but the Queen wouldn’t catch him like this. “What’s your hidden agenda?”
America looked hurt, a puppy look on his face. “That stings, Iggy! Can’t I do something for you without expecting anything in return?”
“No.”
America threw his shoulders back, crossing his arms to mimic England. “I am a selfless being. All heroes are. Whatever shindigs you get up to, I do want you to win, you know. If anyone can defeat you, it’s me, and me alone.”
“So you help me for the glory. Of course.” England smiled smugly up at America, who was caught off guard.
Effortlessly whisking around the taller nation, England made his way deeper into the room. “I guess I can admit now that I never really kept you around for your company.”
“That’s cruel, England! All I was saying is that I’m the only one that can get your panties in a knot!”
“Blatantly ignoring that sexual remark, I thank you for your help, but I must politely decline. Your doing so would increase your chances of getting into the war. And the next thing I need is to be fighting next to you. Heavens knows how that’s going to go down.” England threw his hands up and was about to bring them down when America shot out and grabbed a wrist.
“I don’t think you understand England. I’m doing it no matter what you say.” Keeping a grip on the apprehensive island nation, America took a step forward. “I really am concerned for you, you know. I fought the last war for you.” Reaching out, America brushed the bangs from England’s forehead and bent down to kiss him on the brow. “Cheerio, darling. I’ll see you in the long run.” With a signature wink and a smile, America left of his own accord, closing the door behind him with the perfect exit.
England stared at the door, stock-still, with the knowledge that America had again gone against his wishes and did a stupid thing and his ex-colony had kissed him in a way he had only imagined.
--
Tell me the story of your life!
--
To be continued