New story~! Okay, this story is written entirely in second person~! What does that mean? It means that you are now Italy and Germany's child *waves magic stick and pops you into the story*
And, I made you one heck of a cute child. Just sayin'
This came about when my neighbor and friend told me that her teacher said there was no such thing as second person. I was like O.O WHUT? So in a bit of anger this popped up. I'm going to rework it (you know, take out the yaoi) and send it to that teacher to show her that YES there is a 2nd person and NO the 'you' form is not 1st person -_-
So enjoy; Warnings: Heavily implied Yaoi, the adorableness that is you :3 And "Daddy" in both German and Italian is "Papa" So watch for the accent when I'm talking about "your italian father" ~
You were sitting in the living room surrounded by all of your favorite toys as a child's television show played on TV. Both of your fathers were on the couch watching you. The television show did not hold their interest. They had long ago learned about team work and colors. You did not realize it at the time, but they had been alive a lot longer than they looked. You still loved them, though. They had adopted you four years ago when you were almost two years old. They took you in as their own child and loved you even though you shared not blood nor family. Still, they were your Papá and Papa.
Your parents could always tell who you were talking to or asking for just by the tone of your voice. "Papá!" you would shout with a hint of a Italian accent when talking to your Italian father, the one with the deep brown hair and the hazel eyes you almost never saw. But when you said "Papa" with a hint of a German accent, you wanted your German father, the one with blonde hair and piercing blue eyes.
They watched you with tender eyes as you played with both dolls and cars. You were an odd child and didn't play with gender specific toys. Some days, you would play with dolls and other days you would play with cars.
The door bell rang and you perked up. You always loved to answer the door because you never knew who would be there. Most of the time it was just the delivery man who would give you a wink and ruffle your hair. Sometimes it was a friend from school. Other times, one of your fathers would tell you to go upstairs to your room before answering the door and not come down until told you could.
The German, Ludwig was his name, got himself untangled from his Italian lover's grasp and went to the door. He looked through the peep hole and gestured to the Italian, Feliciano. Your Papá picked you up and began to carry you upstairs. There he would try to capture your interest with stories of pasta and cute girls he had met. One of your favorite stories was the one of Feliciano and Ludwig's wedding day. Just a short year later, they had adopted you.
But now at five going on six, your curiosity could not be held at bay by stories and fairy tails. Your squirmed in your Papá's grasp wanting to be let down and say hello to whoever was at the door. But your Papá held you firm and carried you up to your room.
The Italian tried to keep you interested in whatever was in your toy chest, but you were too distracted by the noises coming from downstairs. The sound of your Papa shouting frightened you just a little bit and made you wonder who had come to visit. You wanted desperately to see the person. Maybe using your cuteness and charm, you could make the yelling stop. And then Papá would make cookies and you could all sit in the living room and drink hot chocolate. But not too hot hot chocolate. You had a habit of burning your tongue
Papá tried to get you to pay attention to the reenactment of some story using your dolls, but you could not be swayed. You kept staring at the door and trying to listen to the loud conversation coming from downstairs.
Finally, Papá sighed and stood up. "I'm going to go ask whoever is here to leave," your Italian father declared, "Because you seem to be so interested in the door. Then we can make cookies, ve?"
"Yay!" you shout in a childish cute voice that makes your Papá smile from ear to ear. He leaves the room and you sit and wait for him, toying with the hair on one of your dolls.
It might have only been a minute or two, but to your young mind it felt like an hour. Papá had still not come back and you were all alone in your room. You weren't afraid of being alone, you just wanted the company of your fathers. So you stood up and walked quietly out of your room and into the hardwood hallway.
You had to be super quiet as the floorboards tended to squeak. Papa had always said he was going to fix it, but never got a chance to. You tiptoed as quietly as you could to the stairs pausing only when you made the floor squeak.
Reaching the stairs, you grabbed the handle and peered over the edge. From there, you could see the living room and your two fathers along with a few mysterious people. No one was sitting down meaning that they weren't in a relaxed state. You wanted to go downstairs and offer everyone cookies or something so that is exactly what you did.
You slowly descended the stairs and jumped off the last one. The thudding sound made everyone turn around and look at you. You think you saw your fathers' faces pale, but you had more important things to do than worry about that.
"Would you like some cookies?" You asked in the cutest voice anyone has ever heard. "We have chocolate chip, sugar, oatmeal... I don't like the oatmeal." You made a face. "But we have that and... Oh! And Christmas cookies from last year, but I think they'll make your tummy hurt."
You paused and waited for an answer. No one moved and you couldn't figure out why no one is responding to a simple question. Finally one man, a person with white hair and red eyes began to laugh. You cocked your head to the side wondering why he was laughing. Papá came over and scooped you into his arms, the noise enabling him to move again.
"Uh... Italy? Who is that?" A woman with long dirty blonde hair asked.
Your Papá looked down at you in his arms and sighed.
"This is our child," your other father said. "We became parents five years ago."
The red eyed man looked at you and then at your parents. "I've seen you two every month for as long as I can remember," he said, "How come this is the first I've heard of the kid? What, is your sperm super strength?"
A blush crossed Ludwig's face. You wondered what sperm is. "We adopted," he said simply.
"Would you like any cookies?" you asked again, a little annoyed that no one answered you the first time.
"Sure, sweetie," the woman said. You perked up and jumped out of your Papá's arms to run into the kitchen. From there, you placed a bunch of cookies on a plate and brought them into the living room Everyone was sitting down now. You smiled. See how much happiness cookies can bring?
You took a seat on the couch right in between your fathers. The other three people in the room stared at you, but at six you saw it as praise and did not feel self conscious. One had dark brown hair with a little piece that stuck up. He continued to look from you to Feliciano in disbelief. The woman sitting next to him was smiling at you. Even at six, you could tell that this was a genuine, kind smile. The man sitting next to her, the one with the white hair, had a large smirk on his face and was staring Ludwig down.
"So, we came over just to tell you that the next world meeting would have to be changed to your house do to an... unexpected turn of events in France," the man with the dark brown hair explained.
"What kind of events?" Ludwig asked confused. You scrunched up your face in confusion at the term 'world meeting.' You thought it might have something to do with your parents' work.
"It's best to not talk about it," the woman smiled, "But the meeting will be here next month. Sorry for the inconvenience"
"Yes, well, why didn't you just call?" Ludwig asked, "Instead of coming over?"
"We were in the neighborhood," the white haired man said, his smirk deepening, "What is it West? Didn't want us to come over? I'll bet the other nations will love to hear about your kid."
At this Ludwig stood up, his face red with anger. You look up at him worried that he was mad. Your father didn't get really get angry. Sure, he would sometimes come home aggravated from work, but he almost never yelled at you or your Italian father. But now he looked like he was going to explode.
"You will say nothing about our child," Ludwig said. He did not yell, but the tone in his voice told the others that he was serious.
"I'm sure the other nations will be very supportive," the woman told him, "They're not going to get angry. I mean, you can't be fired from being a nation or anything."
A nation? You cocked your head in curiosity. You had heard of nations before. Those were all the countries on the maps. But, the way the woman was speaking told you that maybe Papa and Papa's jobs were a little different than the average office job.
"Papá, Papa," you asked, "Are you countries?" Everyone turns to look at you in surprise. The white haired man bursts out in laughter
"What? You've had a kid for five years and you never mentioned it?" he asked between gasps of laughter.
"It never came up!" Ludwig responded.
"So you are countries? That's so cool!" You shout, clearly excited, "Wait until I tell Mary about this! She's gonna be so surprised."
"Wait, sweetie!" Your Italian Papá exclaimed, "You can't tell anyone that we're nations. Alright?"
You looked down for a moment. "Alright," you said, "Sorry, Papá. I won't tell anyone. I promise."
"Good!" he exclaimed.
"Hey, West. How about you introduce us?" The white haired man asked.
Ludwig sighed. "Fine." He looked down and smiled a soft, but halfhearted smile. "This is Austria," he told you pointing to the brown haired man. "The woman next to him is Hungary and the man next to her is Prussia."
"And I'm awesome!" Prussia exclaimed.
Ludwig rolled his eyes. "And I am the personification of Germany and your Papá is the personification of Italy." You look at them and smile.
"That's so cool!" You exclaim again. Everyone laughed.
The rest of the day went on and the countries stayed much longer than first intended. When they left, it was well past your bedtime and your parents made you go upstairs to bed. You changed into your Pj's and snuggled under the covers waiting for them to come up and read you a bedtime story.
It was awesome knowing that you had countries for parents. You felt like the luckiest kid alive. At your tender age, you did not think of the possible problems that would present themselves in the future. All you could think about was that your parents were your heroes. They had always been your heroes. But now, they were just that much cooler!
Sorry about the rushed ending~
YOU ARE SO DARN CUTE *huggles you*
I tried to make it so "you" could either be a boy or a girl. That's why some of the dialogue sounds rather weird and stiff. I avoided using 'he' or 'she.'
I dunno if I'll continue. Probably not, but you never know what'll pop into my head... So I hope you enjoyed this oneshot~!
*blinks* OMG YOU'RE SO CUTE~!