A thunderous bang sounded as a towering man rushed through the pair of double doors, slamming them shut in a discrete panic. His long pastel scarf flowed around his panting form as he struggled to hold them closed, as if awaiting some incoming outside force.
Behind the exhausted nation, the rest of the group sat idle in their places, organized around a large rectangular meeting table, still in wait for the meeting to begin. Several faces turned towards him with various expressions as he abruptly entered the room.
They had been awaiting his arrival for quite a while now.
After calling roll, Germany had noticed that a certain Russian had been missing from attendance, and Ukraine had insisted that they wait for him in order for the meeting to commence. Germany had reluctantly agreed, and as Russia finally entered the building now, he was greeted with an array of agitated glances from those who were getting increasingly tired of waiting.
Russia peered back at the other nations, still tightly holding the entrance shut with a look of sheer terror. It was very odd for them to see such a powerful nation like Russia so very… frightened. Well… There was at least one thing in the world that was known to put Ivan into such a state. Or, more specifically, someone.
Everyone's suspicions were confirmed as something clamorously crashed into the outside of the doors, causing the wood to splinter and some of the waiting nations to jump in their seats.
Suddenly, the straggled cries of a female- muffled through the dense wood- filled the room as she began scratching at the door to try and pry it open using solely her fingernails. The horrible grinding sound sent shivers down several weak-hearted nation's spines, making Italy start to cower in fear as he clung to his brother's arm. Romano only scowled in disgust, showing as much concern as someone like Romano was willing to express.
"Big brother!" The rough voice screeched like a bat, as the scratching took on a more violent nature.
"Let me in! Brother Russia! Open this door! Brotkher!" The freakish girl spat, putting even more force on the doors causing them to jerk open a crack. Despite Russia's desperate efforts to keep the growing gap closed, the shrill girl seemed to be impossibly overpowering him.
"No! Go away!" Russia yelled back urgently, an odd sense of alarm lacing his normally flat words.
"Please, Rossiya! Open this door so you can finally become one with me! Marry me, marry me, marry me, marry me, marry me!" The crazed pleads echoed through the dense air, menacingly, making everyone shiver in place.
At this point, Ivan acted like he had completely forgotten that everyone else was there, and started firing back at her; his fear making him gain an eerie, dark purple aura… Like he was starting to get angry.
Whoa, now let's think about that again. Russia was actually getting angry. Not with his usual hidden wrath- thrown off by his innocent appearance- but actually portraying it in his body language.
Way to go. Belarus had finally succeeded in provoking the Russian instead of sending him off scurrying like a frightened little mouse. Well, this wasn't going to end well…
"Nyet." He replied, his voice taking on a steady but deep tone. It was as rigid as stone, yet so calm… much too calm. For some reason, the fact that he was no longer yelling, made the situation a million times scarier. He was being one hundred percent serious.
"I will never marry you, Belarus. All you do is terrorize me. I've had enough of this. I'm done… J-Just leave me alone."
Then, the last part he had trouble choking out, but once it was muttered, the true volume of his words made everyone hold their breaths.
"I-I hate you."
Germany now stood; an annoyed yet mildly concerned expression playing out over his blunt features.
Although the meeting was being held in none other than New York City, the German's natural leadership abilities still tended to give him the authority required to take over the situation, and render it under control. It was as if they all had some kind of unspoken agreement, that no matter where the meeting was being held, he would still end up being the one in charge.
"Russia," He said in an unamused tone. "We have delayed the World Summit in waiting for you to arrive. Why are you late?"
Ivan only temporarily glanced back at him; much too focused on the Belarusian trying to break through the doorway to remove his attention for too long of a period. The dark aura around him seemed to fade away as rapidly as it had appeared.
Russia slowly responded in a weary tone, almost embarrassed about his younger sibling's behavior.
"I give you my greatest of apologies, Germany. But as you can see, the reason for my delay is merely laying on the other side of these doors." He said simply, grunting.
America's garbled laughter could be heard mockingly in the background. "Commie's 'fraid of his own sister!"
Britain gave the younger a look of warning, but the American just continued to giggle childishly to himself.
"Russia. Please take a seat and let your sister inside so we may begin the Meeting." Germany plainly commanded, folding his arms over his chest in agitation. He was done with these people. He didn't understand why they couldn't just have a normal, organized gathering for once in their lives.
Ivan looked back over his shoulder in a state of alarmed disbelief. He stared at Germany with a set of wide, pleading, violet eyes. Silently begging the man to be kidding.
Germany's hard expression never wavered. Not in the slightest.
For a while, it looked like no one was going to budge; it was a deadlock. Then Ukraine gingerly rose to her feet, and made her way over to her trembling little brother's side.
She placed a delicate hand on his broad shoulder, and she prompted him to release the doors, making him take a stiff, reluctant step backwards.
Very slowly, the two wooden doors eerily creaked open after his pressure was removed.
It appeared that only a frame of still darkness laid in wait behind their surface, until a girl in a flowing blue dress shuffled out into the doorframe, stepping out of the shadows like a creature of the night. The artificial light illuminated her pale complexion, like fresh morning dew. Except, a whole lot more terrifying. Like dew tainted with a dose of bitter poison.
Her long, platinum blond hair, hung freely over her face like curtains of snow. Only revealing a single eye, narrowed in a look of complete lunacy; her pupil rapidly dilating to adjust to the new lighting of the room. Everyone tried not to notice the glinting blades reflecting in the light, as she slid them back into the folds of her clothing.
Ukraine stood almost protectively between the two- like a barrier- staring each of them down until Germany's rough voice cut through the room, piercing the tense silence.
"Alright everyone, let's settle down, we have a very important meeting to begin. Please, sit if you will."
Ukraine gave Russia a kind of sympathetic glance, immediately heading to her chair just as she was ordered.
Russia and Belarus stood across from each other for a few more agonizing moments, as if sizing each other up. Russia studying her with his innocent, thoughtful frown, and Belarus staring almost blankly back at him, her lips void of expression.
But instead of the immense rage everyone would have expected her to be harboring, her face was being overcome by a new emotion. An emotion no one would have expected to be playing out on Belarus- of all peoples- face. Some might have described it as… genuine sadness. Hurt. Betrayal even.
The way her facial features suddenly shifted from her dark frown into a more stoic expression- as if she sensed the other nations lingering stares- made her seem all the more emotionally unstable.
They all waited for a few more rigid minutes, until Belarus steadily neared her seat, lips pursed and shoes clicking on the newly polished floors. Russia promptly followed, taking his own seat. It remained quiet enough to hear a pin drop, until Belarus stiffly sat down as well. She seemed slightly off for some reason, but no one could quite place it.
Without any further disruptions, the meeting proceeded just as scheduled.
After several hours of pointless discussion, Germany decided it was time to call for a lunch break. As always, the meeting had turned into a dysfunctional disaster, with America suggesting some outrageous idea, Britain and France resorting to violence on one another, Switzerland threatening someone with a shotgun he had somehow managed to smuggled in (Although, no one could quite figure out how…), and Greece pleasantly napping with a cat stuck to his face.
Everyone fled the room gleefully, excited for their waiting meals. Italy chattered on about the joys of pasta, and China offered to make a platter of traditional Chinese treats for everyone to try, as they exited the double doors. Their eccentric voices and footsteps were still faintly heard as they trudged down the hallway, away from the large room.
No one noticed a particular Belarusian linger in her seat, even after the others had all left. Well, at least she thought no one had noticed.
Belarus was lost in contemplation, as she was suddenly aware of footsteps nearing her from behind. She unconsciously felt herself start to reach for her blades, as if on instinct.
Out of nowhere, America came up to her right side, stopping profusely a few feet from her chair.
"Oh, hey! Um… Natalya was it?" He asked coolly with a mildly worried expression, which- she had to admit- looked quite odd on his normally playful features.
The female nation only glared coldly up at him. This made him nervously chuckle and absentmindedly run a hand through his hair in response.
"Well, uh, is something wrong? Cause ya know… Normally you would have just followed Russia out of here like his shadow or something, but you're still in here… so, uh…"
Belarus narrowed her vibrant purple eyes at the American, indirectly forcing him to trail off from his sentence. He was suddenly dangerously unsure of himself.
She was clearly upset and wanted nothing to do with him at the moment. She was just surprised that the man had even noticed her at all, let alone had the guts to willingly come over and speak with her- even after witnessing her deranged display. Although, they couldn't say that this morning's scene was completely out of the ordinary… It just seemed that today, the incident had taken on a new level of disorder.
After no response, the American continued, determined to fill the ongoing silence.
"You know, you can tell me if something's bothering you… I mean, I know we don't really know each other that well… But, uh… I'm the hero after all!" He shouted eagerly, pointing a finger up at the ceiling as if introducing imaginary stars, and placing a hand on his hip in an expression of pride for himself.
This only made the girl glower at him, even more annoyed.
Alfred seemed to sense it, (for once in his life) and his grin wavered into a nervous smile.
Why was he doing this to himself again? He had just seen her sitting there all alone and only wanted to be a nice person by seeing if she was alright and if there was anything he could do to help! Quick, he needed to think of something to say and fast, before things got too much weirder!
"Here! I have an idea!" He announced, quickly reaching into his suit jacket and pulling out a full sized Hershey's bar from seemingly nowhere.
"You want some chocolate? It always helps to cheer me up when I'm feeling down!"
He was now grinning widely like an idiot, grasping the candy in his palm like it was some kind of sacred, magical cure for all of his problems. Well, now that she thought about it, it probably was…
He continued to reassuringly smile at her.
The Belarusian only stared up at him in wonder. Where had he gotten that from, anyways? Did he keep a never-ending stash of junk food constantly hidden under his jacket or something? …Kind of like how she always had an assortment of knives hidden in her dress? …Although, his hobby was definitely the more wholesome of the two.
"W-where?-" She just barely began to speak- her anger reseeding if only a little- before she was cut off.
"Oh, I have plenty more where that came from! See?!" And with that, America lifted up his jacket and an ocean of candy came spilling out, causing it all to rain down onto the ground with a noisy clatter.
Belarus gaped at the floor in utter shock.
The American merrily laughed, dancing in his pile of sugary sweets as if it was the most normal thing in the world.
Natalya's face tightened into an irritated frown. Why was this man such a moron?
Alfred noticed her scowl, and attempted to straighten himself up, beginning to tentatively retrieve his candy from off the floor.
"Can't litter now!" He sang to himself as he happily cleaned up every single last piece that had fallen. "Gotta protect the Earth!"
Belarus wanted nothing more than to face-palm so badly. They were indoors. How was the candy going to pollute the Earth from inside the meeting room?
It occurred to her how very dim Alfred could really be. She wondered how he had become such a powerful nation to begin with…
When the American finished, he looked back over to her, holding out the chocolate bar he had offered her earlier. When she made no move to take it, he placed it down gently on the table in front of her. He nodded to it, insistently.
Behind his kind outward display, America was internally cringing.
He debated whether or not to just leave the room now, before things got too much more awkward for him than they already were. But, part of him wanted to stay and be completely sure that the girl was alright. He was very protective over his friends, and he considered all nations- even Belarus- to be one of his buddies. Well, almost all of them… There was a certain former Commie he wasn't so sure of…
"Hey, I guess I'll catch ya later then!" He spoke up. "But, uh, you should really come outside and eat lunch with the rest of us! It's no fun being cooped up in here all alone, right?" Alfred rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably.
He didn't want to admit it, but the Belarusian somewhat freaked him out. Then again, that wasn't too hard to do.
She was just too quiet, and her eyes held a sort of untamable sense of danger to them. The only reason he had ever come over here to speak with her in the first place, was because he had ended up staying in the meeting room a little latter than expected, picking up some of his papers- although he wasn't sure how his papers had even gotten on the floor to begin with. As he was making his way out, he had noticed the girl still sitting in her chair, all alone, with a distraught look on her face. He just wanted to be a good person and help a fellow nation out was all… Like any true hero would!
He was just now realizing that she would probably never open up to him in a billion years, so he was just wasting his time with her… This wasn't really any of his business anyways, but then again, he always ended up sticking his nose into other people's problems… Unintentionally or not.
He quickly made up his mind, as he pretended to look down at his watch as an excuse to leave.
"Well… uh, bye!" He said hurriedly after noting the time. He slightly waved a friendly hand back at her, as he exited the room hastily. He was eager to leave this unconventional situation and get himself a Big Mac before his thirty minutes of freedom were up.
Belarus listened intently as the pitter-patter of Alfred's feet left the room, his cheerful goodbye still echoing through her thoughts.
Her eyes narrowed in contemplation as she stared down, scrutinizing the Hershey's bar now laying in front of her, as if trying to taunt her.
What had just happened?
Throughout the entire first half of the meeting, Natalya had just sat, totally disconnected from the conversation, pondering over what Russia had said to her. Even after all these years of trying to get him to comply with her, he had never actually gotten angry with her. He had only seemed to become increasingly terrified of her. He had never told her that he hated her before…
She refused to believe that this was true.
Her brother's hurtful words dug into her and embedded themselves into her broken mind like cobwebs. "I-I hate you."
And now, after America's little chat with her, she was starting to realize something. A thought that had never dawned on her before, all throughout her long existence, was suddenly immerging out of the clear blue of day.
What was so great about her brother, Russia, anyways?
She had never thought such a sentence would come across her mind… but impossibly, it just had. Belarus had always possessed an unconditional, undying love towards her brother. To the point where she had become unhealthily obsessive and possessive over him without even realizing it. Her warped mind would never let her be able to see something as obvious as that.
Now that she thought about it, Ivan had always treated her rather poorly. Not only did he seem to want no part of her existence, but whenever she came around, he just tried to hide from her or make up an excuse to leave.
Russia didn't care about her. He had only drug her into the whole Soviet Union ordeal for his own selfish benefit. Hadn't he just stated that very morning that he hated her?
What if big brother Russia didn't deserve her love?
It was amazing to think that all of this sudden doubt was brought on by merely one simple interaction with an idiotic American.
By one ordinary chocolate bar.
But there was one thing about America that she couldn't quite understand. How was he always so nice?
Something no one had ever truly been to her. Something she rarely saw back at Russia's creaky old house. Back in that freezing wasteland, she had been starved of this kind of endearing treatment her entire life.
But, she just couldn't seem to get over America's good-natured intentions. Without even knowing her, Alfred had just come to check up on her, and despite her hostility, spared her a chocolate bar without even being asked to? Was that normal for Westerners?
You know… she kind of liked this attentiveness. She longed for it. She never knew what she had been missing out on before. To have someone care about her wellbeing in such a considerate way… Not being continuously kicked to the curb to suffer in solitude.
What really was Russia, when compared to someone like America?
America was just purely a sweetheart. He was caring and genuine, warm and compassionate. Russia was so often cruel and fake, cold and calculating. Forever stuck in his old ways; buried in the snow never to be discovered again. While he was still trapped six feet under, America was out soaring with the stars.
Then another though hit her. What if she could have America, instead?
Then she would always have someone there to care for her like she so desperately desired. And since he probably wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed, he would most likely be pretty easy to manipulate as well.
She was also aware of the sheer power hidden behind the American's goofy mannerisms. All of that intoxicating strength withheld behind his thin rimmed glasses and electric blue eyes, could be hers. All hers.
A disturbing grin spread across Natalya's features, and just like that, it was as if she was set in place.
The rusted gears had shifted in her head, and suddenly all focus was centered on someone else.
A new target had been placed in Belarus's psychotic mind, much like that of a hazardous missile's, and it was no longer aimed at her brother, Russia.
The troubled girl reached out to touch the smooth wrappings of the chocolate bar, still occupying the table in front of her. After studying it for a brief moment, she gently unwrapped the top edge- folding the paper downwards- and took a vicious bite out of the top square. She licked the dark residue off her fingertips- grinning wildly- as her eyes suddenly widened in delight.
As she slowly arose from the table, her cheek bones bulged in a crazed expression, she creepily neared the doors like a rag doll who had just sprung to life.
She prowled out of the room- a cat on the hunt- unaware that she was inevitably making the same mistake she had originally made with her brother. But, through her thick fog of insanity, she could no longer distinguish obvious facts like those apart from the delusions inside of her head. All forms of moral judgement had been clouded over, centuries ago.
The Belarusian strode away, licking her lips, thoroughly enjoying every little last bit of her first taste of American chocolate.
She wanted more.
Unfortunately for America, only one conclusion remained in her utterly broken mind.
Alfred F. Jones was going to become one with her, whether he liked it, or not.
Author's Notes:
Howdy folks! How's it going? =^u^= (Man, this is gonna be a long one!)
Let me just start out by saying that I enjoy myself a good ol' America and Belarus fanfic, but I've noticed a trend. They always portray Alfred as the dominant one while Natalya is the one who just wants to be left alone. I just thought, "Hey! What if their roles were reversed and Belarus became the dominating one?" Thus, this work of art was born! I can't say I'll update this one regularly, though… probably just whenever I find the time… (Also, please interpret the title however you would like. -u-)
I don't normally write pairings, and I kind of intended this story to be more of a comedy then a serious romance type thing… but as I kept going with it, it just kind of started to morph into something crazy… XD
I can't help it! They're just too much fun together! They are just both so intense, but in different extremes. Alfred is the fluffy goof ball, while Natalya is the serious mentally disturbed one! Perfect opposites! OuO But, I mean honestly… How could anyone hate AmeBel? (Unless you like AmeViet better… But personally, I could go either way on that one. XD lol) I can't really find anything wrong with them, so I was just like, what the heck! Let's go for it! ^0^
It will start out pretty one-sided, but there is really no telling what's going to happen at this point! Nothing too seriously romantic, though, I can assure you that much. (I stink at romance XP)
I know, I kind of made Russia a little OOC with the whole "I HATE YOU! DX" thing, but don't freak out on me just yet, he has a good reason. ;) Let's just say it's necessary for the plot…
But, anyways, please enjoy this wonderful little tale of creepy possessive Belarus and poor terrified America! XD There is definitely going to be more where this one came from! I have a lot of great things in mind for it! ;)
Also, just so you know, Belarus uses a mix of Belarusian and Russian words throughout the story depending on who she's talking to.
Chapter 1 Translations: (All credit goes to Google Translate, so I do apologize if any of them are incorrect.)
Brotkher- Brother (Russian)
Rossiya- Russia (Russian)
Nyet- No (Russian)
Thanks for reading! : D It would be greatly appreciated if you could tell me what you think in a review!
~GoofieDaisy -^_^-