Rating: T for violence, death (not sure if it qualifies as more than mentioned... It's not graphic), sexual references, and vaguely implied abuse.
Talking: Hey guys! This is the second fic in my series (Spellcaster, Secretkeeper being the first), so I suggest you check out the first one if you haven't read it yet! It can be found on my profile :) Anyway, get ready for some LietPol action because POLAND NO STOP THE PONY IS INNOCENT-
And I swear I will publish the annoyed Switzerland story. It's written, but I need to edit it! (Say that five times fast. Edit it editit editititedtitieieduidit). It's going to be called For Elise.
Disclaimer: I do not hold or claim to hold any sort of ownership or rights over the characters in this story: they belong to Hetalia/Hidekaz Himaruya
CHAPTER ONE:
"Poland," I sigh. Poland glances up at me, green eyes bright. I bury my face in my hands. "Poland, Poland, Poland. What have I told you about running a blackmail empire?"
We're in my tent because Poland is just a Colonel, meaning he has to share with humans. However, I'm the Brigadier General-a elected Colonel who everyone thought would make levelheaded decisions-so I get my own. Poland seems to have invaded it for the time being, even though he complains that the blue of the tarp isn't pretty enough and that the wide cot is lumpy.
"I don't care, because it's, like, totally fun! And it's not blackmail, Liet, I just know what to listen for," he says with a slight frown. As usual, he talks with his hands-so to speak. Although he hands do a decent amount of moving around, he also shifts his weight and flares his wings and makes the funniest expressions.
"You mean, you gossip?" I say, raising an eyebrow. "You know, I could report you to Germany or America. They'd freak if they knew the kind of stuff you have on them."
"Well, just because I know that America chooses to ignore people instead of being naturally ignorant and that Germany likes baking with Liechtenstein doesn't mean I've got complete control over them or anything," Poland says, rolling his eyes.
"Wait-Germany likes what now?" I wonder, eyes wide. "And come on, you've got to have more than that."
Poland smirks, rolling onto his back (don't his wings get pins and needles, though?) and staring at the ceiling. "Of course I know more than that!" he says, then looks at me. His eyes are an intense, brilliant green. "But if everyone knew, it wouldn't be so useful anymore, would it?"