Hello, I'm the Author 1945 and Germany is tsundre
Germany: wha-?! I am not!
Oh, shut up Germany, you so are!
Germany: how am I tsundre?
You are so Israel's Aba…
Germany: I'm not his Aba!
And you so love him…
Germany: I-I-I do not! It's just a moral obligation, I only watch over him because it's my duty!
Mm hmmmm, so you claim. Well, lets let the audience be the judge of that!
Germany: fine! Lets!
WARNING!: BEFORE YOU READ THIS BE SURE TO READ MY STORIES IN ORDER OR YOU WONT UNDERSTAND WHAT'S GOING ON! TO GET MY STORIES IN ORDER JUST CLICK MY NAME, THE AUTHOR 1945, AND LOOK UNDER 'MY STORIES!
Have fun!
...
America is so naïve, Germany thought as he watched his friend march confidently up the garden path, laughing as a tiny baby sat on his shoulders giggling merrily.
America was bringing his little brother over for a visit. Not because he had a meeting and he needed Germany to watch the baby, no. He wanted Israel and Germany to have some time to bond. Just the thought of that made Germany want to sneer! Him bond with Israel! His was a moral obligation. Nothing more, nothing less.
The child laughed gaily as his brother hopped his way to Germany's front step. Pick up the pace, he thought irately; what was the point of entertaining the boy? Even if it did make the child smile and even if his smile was so sweet and his laugh so adorable that any nation would…
Germany shook his head and slapped himself for having such a weak thought. Even if he did learn to care for the child, where would that get him? The last Jew he had known had…well, the point was Israel was only a duty. He had a duty to protect his child.
Nein, the child, not my child, Germany corrected himself as America finally reached the steps, beaming with joy as the child was positively crimson from laughter. The poor baby then preceded to cough violently, as his sickness, which had died down a bit since Germany had sent him economic aid, had unfortunately yet to leave the boy. America seemed to act on instinct as he immediately grabbed the boy off his shoulders and put him over his shoulder, gently tapping his back as the boy coughed to his heart's content.
"There, there, little bro, its okay, breathe carefully now," he said gently. The child's coughing soon died down and he rested his little head on his brother's shoulder. Even Germany felt quite touched by this display of brotherly love, though he managed to keep his face free of all emotion.
America cradled the boy and glanced down at him, his smile not reaching his eyes. Germany felt bad for America having to watch his baby brother sick like that. Luckily the boy was getting better. The boy let out a tiny squeak, which Germany guessed was the one year old equivalent of a groan. He felt an odd emotion well up in his stomach but managed to hide any feeling as he crossed his arms behind his back and stood up straight in a soldierly fashion.
America finally looked up at his friend, now with a genuine smiled on. He gingerly handed the sleeping child to the German, who took the boy reluctantly. He really didn't like having physical contact so he grabbed the child by the back of his collar as he usually carried him. America didn't mind, he gave the German an amused laugh and then advised him to allow the boy to rest a bit before they went outside to play. Germany nodded gruffly and waved farewell to his friend as he walked off.
Germany looked down at the child, who slept despite his slapdash handling. Germany had half the urge to smile. He carried the child to the living room like he was radioactive and if he touched him he just might die.
"Heya, West!" cried Prussia happily as Germany passed his elder brother on his way to the living room. Prussia easily noticed the sleeping boy dangling between Germany's thumb and index finger He grinned and ran over to the boy.
"Hey, nephs!" he cackled, mussing up the boy's hair. Germany scoffed a bit. For some reason, Prussia had taken to calling the boy 'nephs.' He claimed that it was way more awesome to call him nephs then nephew, however, Germany suspected he was just too lazy to say 'nephew.'
Israel stirred a bit and let out a tiny coo in his sleep. Prussia, being a sucker for cute things, exclaimed, "Kesese! Aint he a cutie, West?"
"Nein," Germany lied gruffly, turning on his heel and stomping off towards the living room. He tried to keep his angry expression on but it was hard as the child twitched and cooed in his sleep. Germany felt guilty for lying, the boy wasn't just cute, he was, as America often said, adorable.
He reached the living room and carefully laid the baby down on the couch. The child sighed with content and curled into a little ball. He then popped his teeny thumb in his mouth and proceeded to suck it as a makeshift pacifier.
Germany grunted as the warm feeling came back to his stomach. America often said that Israel was a little angel. Germany didn't know about that, considering the number of rules and glassware he'd seen the boy break even as a sickly baby. Sleeping, however, curled up like that, sucking his thumb (which, Germany reminded himself, was not healthy) it was easy to forget the child's mischievousness (though it was easy to be re-reminded of it as soon as the boy woke up.) When he was asleep, all there was to be seen was innocence.
And, Germany reminded himself stubbornly, innocence was abstract. Germany had lost his innocence years ago. Innocence came and went away, no need to get all sad when it did, it was part of life. The baby too would grow, see death, and lose his innocence as most nations did. No matter how much America wanted to or tried to prevent it would happen.
Then the boy would be an adult, with any luck more like Germany. Strict, aware, not naïve, ready for the world. That little glint would leave his eyes and he would not coo in his sleep or giggle at everything and…
And for some reason that thought made Germany's heart sink. He wondered why. Did he not want the boy to lose his innocence? To become like him? Did he want to preserve the tiny baby lying on the couch right now?
Germany shook his head to rid himself of this weak thought. The boy suddenly twitched and let out another squeak/moan in his sleep, as his economy no doubt hurt him once more. Germany, well rehearsed on what to do should this occur, immediately reached foreword and stroked the baby's soft black hair. He sensed the child calm down and for some reason he too closed his eyes and felt calm as he continued to absentmindedly stroke the baby's hair.
Israel's big blue eyes fluttered open and he looked up and saw his father's hand above his head. The baby rolled onto his back, cocked his teeny head curiously and with yet another soft coo, he reached up and grabbed his father's index finger with his little hand.
Germany's breath hitched and his heart leapt into his throat when he realized what his (the) child had done. He looked down at the baby's hand, which grasped his finger. Not tightly, not crushing his finger like Germany knew he had the ability to do. Germany suddenly realized how small the nation was, his teeny fingers where barely able to wrap themselves all the way around his finger.
Germany's eyes then focused on the child's face, which was filled with bright curiosity as he studied his father's finger. Then the child looked up. His blue eyes met Germany's identical ones except where as Germany's were full of shock, his glinted with happiness in spite of his sickness. He looked up at his father with curiosity and more of that innocence.
For a minute, Germany would have been content to stand there all day with the child holding onto his finger, smiling up at him. He felt that warm feeling return once more. He had the extreme urge to cradle the boy. His little eye glint and the way he looked up at him…
It didn't mean anything, Germany reminded himself stubbornly, the child was a responsibility. A duty. Germany followed through on his duties precisely, nothing more nothing less.
So, with a heavy heart, he slowly pulled his hand from the baby's grasp. The child looked a bit confused and continued to reach up even after the German had retracted his hand. Then the boy's arm fell to his side and is head lolled as he fell into a peaceful sleep.
Germany stared down at the child, looking so innocent resting there, like there was no trouble in the world. The German then looked down at his hand, specifically at his finger, which still felt a little warm from the boy's grasp. He had such a strong urge to hug the baby to him and keep that innocence around forever but he managed to shake it off. He stomped out of the living room, leaving Aster to watch the boy, trying to bang the reason he was doing all this into his psyche.
Moral obligation, moral obligation, moral obligation.
Nothing more, nothing less.
...
Yeah, sure it is. We'll see about that Muahahaha!
Nephs: Prussia's name for Israel, because Prussia is both lazy and awesome.
Prussia: Kesesese!
Anyway, yeah, if you agree that Germany is tsundre, review and favorite this story and tune in next week, we have a Germany/Israel multi-chapter!
Auf Windersehn!