So... hey guys (this is an AN, btw). This is my... first Hetalia fic? Woot! My old account I kinda lost, so hopefully this one will be updated frequently, so... yeah. Thats it, I guess.
This is a songmeme for USXUK, and I (because Im stupid) accidentaly did 11 songs, not 12, but whatevs. The more the better, right?
Oh, and I tried to put some of the lyrics from the song in each ficlet, so... cookies for those who find them (and that one reference from the lion king) :)
So hopefully this isnt sucky... I wrote this while exhausted and suffering from writers block.
AND DISCLAIMER AND I DONT OWN HETALIA CUZ IF I DID IT WOULD BE TOTALY R RATED AND BLA BLA BLA
Oh! And review, please ;)
Okay, Ill shut up now...
Payphone- Maroon 5
America cursed and threw his phone at the wall. This was the fifteenth time. He called and called, but England wouldn't pick up the damn phone. He remembered the fight well.
"I hate you! You still act like a colony, honestly"
"England, Im sorry, okay? I just, I was just joking." America trailed off hoping England would let him off the hook for his crude comment. He was wrong.
"Oh" England yelled "You think you can just 'joke' and say anything you want? You can insult me for your own benefits and never consider how I feel? You know what? Get out of my house. Get out of my country. And don't come back"
But- America started
"Out. Now." England glared.
Alfred sighed, and left, tired of the fight. He decided he would call England the next day when he had cooled off.
Now he was regretting ever leaving, because England wouldn't pick up the damn phone.
'He used to tell me how he would never leave me but all those fairytales were full of shit' He muttered, sinking to the floor.
"Im sorry"
Somewhere in Brooklyn- Bruno Mars
England was depressed. He was leaving America after being on a spy mission for a few weeks. The year was 1914, and America was doing well.
His country, on the other hand, had just begun a war. To be honest, he was jealous of America. The country was rich, enjoying his life… away from him, he reminded himself.
America didn't need him, nor did he want it. Hed made that clear a hundred or so years ago, when he declared independence, and turned his back on the country that loved him.
"Flight 23, departing in 10 minutes" the voice boomed from the speaker. England was finally leaving America, the country that hated him, the country he realized he… loved. He loved America. The thought felt both bitter and sweet in his mind as he tried to wrap his head around the strange concept. In fact, he wasn't sure that he could.
And even though he was going back to London, back to his home, he couldn't help that he was leaving a part of his heart here, somewhere in Brooklyn.
The Only Exception- Paramore
America remembered England well. Though he denied it and acted like he only remembered the revolution, he would reminisce quietly on his own about all of the memories that they shared.
He remembered England coming back, all decked out in his pirate costume, after a battle with France or Spain or some other lesser country, which of course he had won.
And he remembered wishing someday to be just as awesome as his adopted brother. Someday he would make England proud.
And then there was that year, 1776, when he didn't want to be a colony. He wanted to be like England. He always had.
But now he wasn't like England. He was far more than England. He had surpassed him by leaps and bounds. He looked down at said sleeping nation in his arms, and smiled.
"Someday, I'll take over the world" he sang.
England just opened one eye lazily. "And what about me, darling? You going to rule me too, colony?" he teased.
America just grinned. "You are the only exception." He closed his mouth then reopened it, smirking, then declared boastfully "besides, I wouldn't have to control you, you love me too much to ever leave me"
England just blushed and ducked his head under the covers, retorting with a halfhearted "Git."
We Are Young- Fun
America looked at England at the world meeting, who, wouldn't look back. And he knew why too. This meeting was held at his house, and the date was July 3. No doubt England would be getting sick by now, remembering his revolution.
America waited for the meeting to finish, not even listening to Germany's presentation. As soon as it was done, he ran over to England before he could leave, because he knew England would catch the soonest possible plane back to England; the Brit, as a rule, would never set foot on American soil on the fourth of July.
"England" he said, softly.
"What do you want" England yelled back, with a surprisingly shaky voice.
America blinked. "Have you been crying?"
England turned away. "What do you think, idiot?"
America didn't know what to say, so he just wrapped his arms around the protesting Brit.
"stay with me" He whispered.
"I don't think it's a good Idea" England began, trying to struggle out of Americas arms so that he could leave.
"England." He turned to look at the trembling man and brushed away a stray tear, only hugging him closer.
"I'll always be here for you. The past is past. I'll love you forever. Whether you're blushing or crying or it's my day of independence, or even when you're piss drunk, I'll hold you. And when you're broken and bloody on the battlefield, I'll carry you home"
England just stared at him for a moment, before nodding hesitantly. "I suppose it wouldn't hurt to stay with you this one night, as long as I get to sleep in your bed"
America chuckled softly and ruffled his Briton's hair. "oh, England. I'll never let you go"
Turning Tables- Adele
"Why would you leave me" He screamed at the wind, not caring about the rain that drenched his clothes or the sticky salty tears pouring down his face. The mud, the rain, all the same as that day.
In fact, it was, that same day, so to speak. July 4th, 2003 to be precise. And the English man had chosen to ignore the American's invitation to his party in order to curse at the perpetual English rain, on that day that his beloved had left him.
But something deep inside of him knew that he could never blame America. The real reason that he had not gotten over this was probably because he blamed himself.
Alfred F. Jones, Alfred Freedom Jones. America. He knew that he could never own such a man, such a country, all full of life and passion and energy, someone who had repeatedly told him he was keeping him under his thumb, and letting out an exasperated "I'll be my own savior, this time, thanks."
And it was then that he realized, that it was time to say goodbye. It was time to open the cage and let America out of his heart because, dammit, America deserved someone better than this, someone better than him.
You and Me- Life house
America looked angrily at England. He was being like a parent again, going on and on about his poor English, how dumb he was, over and over. And he was sick of it! He didn't know why he put up with it. In fact, as the most powerful country in the world, he really didn't have to put up with it. He didn't have to embarrass himself in front of all the other countries, bickering with England.
But maybe it was because, somewhere deep inside, he enjoyed it. He enjoyed the arguments, because it was the only contact he had with England, it was the only time he saw him. Because they had fallen so far, they had fallen so far apart that they literally had nothing left to lose, and nothing left to prove.
Apologize- OneRepublic
America stared at the sheet of paper in his hands. The smell of ink was still on it, and he was scared. Scared of how England would react, how he wanted England to react.
Their relationship had been strained for the last couple of years, but still. Still, he didn't want a war or anything. He just wanted to be free, for England to acknowledge that he had come of age.
And as England entered the room, he almost couldn't do it, but steeled himself at the last moment.
"England" he began, awkwardly staring at his shoes. They looked bad, he realized. They were scuffed and marked, and the shoes of a poor man. What chances did he have to be a country? Why would he succeed where others could not?
"Yes, America?"
He lifted his eyes from his scruffy shoes and stared at the gem of a man in front of him, a man so powerful, decked in fine clothes and velvet, a man who ruled the world, and him. It took all of his strength to push the doubts to back of his mind and lick his lips and force the next words out of his mouth'
"im seceding" they came out quietly, a hoarse squeak, full of doubt and trepidation.
England just looked at him incredulously.
"pardon?"
'im leaving"
To his surprise, England didn't hit him. Nor did he yell, or threaten. America could have sworn that a strange look came over the Brit's eyes, but it went too fast for him to catch, and then the older country's mask of steel was back on his face, as solid as ever, and suddenly America doubted that he had seen it in the first place. His musings were interrupted by the Brit's strange, quiet response.
"America," he began softly"I know how you're feeling. And I'm willing to admit I may have been somewhat unfair. How about I go overturn those laws, you know, the tea ones? And we'll forget that this little episode ever happened. What do you say to that?"
This was a tantalizing treat that the Brit offered. For a moment, America considered this. It was tempting, to go back and pretend everything was fine between him and England, so tempting that he almost allowed this to become a possibility. But then he thought of freedom, and all of his convictions came rushing into the front of his mind, and tumbled out of his mouth.
"no. Its too late to apologize I'm independent. And France is helping me. Prussia too, I think. I mean, I don't think we have to be enemies or anything, but I think I'd make a good country. On my own, you know? And I hate tea, it tastes terrible." America stopped talking, trying desperately to catch his breath and arrange his jumbled thoughts.
He stole a glance at England, as he had been looking pointedly at the wall for the entirety of his speech. What he saw scared him more than anything that England had done so far. He looked at him with pity.
"You'll find that being a country isn't all that it's cut out to be" And with that last statement, England strode out of the room, as confident as he had been before, leaving America with nothing but the thoughts in his mind, which were naught but questions, and the British flag on the wall, which was becoming his nightmare.
I wont give up- Jason Mraz
England bowed low on the ground, too tired to care. Too tired to care that the situation was reversed, that his little colony was standing over him now, deciding his fate. He braced himself, waiting for a shot, or at least for a cold voice telling him to run away, and never return.
He got neither. He heard a splash and looked up just in time to see America pull him into a full embrace.
"England" the new country's voice broke.
England just stared at the boy. did it matter what he said? He still wouldn't see him anymore. America wasn't his. What was life without love? And he had just lost his.
"England" America repeated, brushing away a stray tear that he hadn't even noticed had fallen "I just need to figure out who I am. And I want to love you. I want to love you on my own. And not like a brother- oh bugger I don't even know how to say this, I just wast freedom, and love, and you know?"
His mouth had dipped near England's ear by chance while speaking, and as his hot breath on his skin made England's stomach curl in a certain way, it was that moment that England realized that this was no longer a boy child, but a man, and no longer a brother, but.. But what?
"I wont give up on us" America continued "I'm just waiting for you to come to me. I wont push you, but i'll wait."
Americas touch had left England more on the edge than he wanted, he was barely hearing Americas words through the haze. "The United States of America" he gritted out.
America looked up in surprise, and stopped his ramblings "What about it?"
England looked up at the battle-flushed man hovering over him, and decided right then and there that he wanted him, and he wanted him now. Now that he was free, no longer his brother. What was he to him? What was this? Was this their road to recovery, was this just hate sex? Whatever it was, he didn't care. HE was tired, and dirty, and he had just lost a war. A good lay was in order. So he put on his famed face of seduction and began to work.
He smirked and nipped at Americas mouth, begging for entrance, for his hunger for this man to be sated. "I surrender to the United States of America, today. I hope you prove yourself a worthy captor."his voice had gotten husky and low, and he didn't even care how he looked anymore.
America, at least, was getting the hint. England could see America considering what he wanted, he could see all of the feelings he was going through, right on his face, as he considered this new 'relationship' that England was proposing. First disgust, then confusion, then lust, then more and more emotions played across his face. Finally, he made up his mind.
America pushed England down on the ground so that this new nation, this young wild passionate country was now straddling the pirate king of the world, and so he did the only thing he could think of. He bit down hard on the older nations neck, causing a moan of pure bliss to escape from the surrendered nation.
"Oh, Fuck" England cried.
America grinned "Gladly"
Everybody- Ingrid Michaelson
Americas head was nestled into England's chest, as England tried to simultaniously read and drink his tea, while not disturbing the sleeping nation. They were both peaceful, for once. Neither one was arguing, fighting, blushing.
For one small moment in their history, they had come to terms with their past, their personalities, and they were content with their future. Everybody heals with love.
But only for a moment.
And then England accidentally splashed his tea on Americas face.
"hey!" America cried, jumping up and spilling the rest of the tea on the bed "you stupid limey, whats your problem"
England replied red faced and just as loud "you git, if you weren't in my lap this wouldn't have happened".
Then began the predictable cycle as they fought and threw things at each other and yelled and so on and so forth. But as they continued arguing, the world kept turning, and so did love.
How to save A Life- the Fray
America looked at England with concern. The man was sprawled drunk on his couch, babbling in some ancient tongue about magic, and every once in a while muttering 'stupid yank'.
America wasn't offended though. He was worried. The Briton was slipping into a pattern of drinking and depression. And he knew why. He was the world's major super power. And England? Nothing but a faded glory.
America ruffled his head affectionately before sighing " you need to stop this, you'll hurt yourself"
He stood up to get a blanket for his drunken Brit, but was stopped by an arm gripping him tightly.
"Stay w'me Mer'ca" the Brit slurred.
Americas face gentled, and he picked England up, taking him to the bedroom. Someday they'd need to have a talk about this drinking problem but at least it gave him an excuse to be near England when they weren't fighting, without Any resistance.
"if you only knew, England. Id stay with you forever"
Gravity – Sara Bareilles
America hated England. Because even though he had fought that war, gained his freedom, though he was a country not a colony, he could still never escape England.
England could keep him without chains. He didn't need to be a colony. It was enough that at night England's eyes were shining with lust, and America was screaming his name, and England growled 'mine' into his ear.
But he didn't want this. Or did he? He didn't know. He loved England, but he loved freedom more. And love was just another form of slavery, he had discovered.
And it was then that America realized, he would never be free. He would always belong to England, whether in form of government, or culture, or the fact that he would die for that Brit, because he loved him.
And it scared him that this didn't bother him as much as it used to, or as much as it should.