This week a world meeting will be hold in Hungary by, well, Hungary of course. She has a hard time controlling and collecting herself with all her OTPs walking freely around. And it was the first day! She can't control her inner fangirl! She just can't!
How do you even act in such situations? She's trying to be mature but she just can't! But what if you catch one of your OTPs kissing?! How could you possibly stay calm?! What can you do? What to do? There aren't much things than releasing her undying yaoi-fanatic side.
Once you go yaoi, you never go back.
All she could do was squall like a true fangirl would do, snapping a few—tons—pictures on her cellphone, making a mental note to scourge through the camera footage and make a run for it before the lovey-dovey couple would catch her "stalking" them. Not literally, per say, she just have the best of luck running into them. (Try seeing that to our face, Hungary-chan.)
The blond would go all pirate-mode, shout bloody murder and somehow pulling two cutlasses out of nowhere—and probably chop her head off...and other part of her limbs.
The brunet would go all mafia-mode, go berserk, pull guns out of thin air and shooting bullets-hole in her pretty body or he would call his underdogs to do it for him whilst laughing maniacally when she would slowly die.
She doesn't need to see or experience their wrath. It's been rumoured that it was not a pretty sight in their glory days.
So, no thank you kindly, sir! She would rather stay whole.
She scurries away like her life depends on it—which it is—and gets the hell out of the hallway. She makes a few turns, passing corridors. She jumps in the elevator when it opened at the right time. Her fellow nations who walk startled out the lift and silently questioning her sanity in their head. Something they rather wouldn't know and something that they know it wouldn't end good if they did. So they let it be. In these kind of situations is keeping their mouths shut, walk calmly away and pretending that they didn't see anything of it, is something that can safe your life.
They do not have a dead wish in the form of a Hungarian crazy, pan-wielding yaoi lover. Nuh uh, they rather don't want to be dead.
She jumps excitedly around, pushing the button where he would be staying, if she was correct. When the lift opens the Hungarian almost flies out of it, running like a mad-woman and only stopping when she was at the right door, panting and slightly exhausted.
She knocks rapidly on the door—almost banging it out of its hangings—and tapping her foot impatiently on the floor, "Why does he takes so long?" She mutters.
When the door finally opens revealing a raven coloured head that pokes out the door, curious for who it was that was disturbing him—he still got a jet lag. She pushes the door open, resulting that the raven head loses his balance if it was not for his quick reflex to stand back steadily on his foot. "Kon'nichiwa, Hungary-san." with his usual stoic face, he doesn't get the chance to ask why she's here. A cellphone is shoved in his face, he couldn't deduce who it was because it was all blurry for him.
"Japan!" She squeals excitedly, "You just need to know what I saw!" She jumps up and down.
"Hungary-san, please calm down." That's until he saw the picture, blood flows from his nose... England and Romano kissing. Kissing! His soul has gone to the yaoi heaven, the paradise really does exist!
"You can't die on me, Kiku!" She screams, pulling him back and forth. She manages to snap him back to the reality, he almost looks disappointed.
"Hai!" He salutes her, "Let's discussed this in private." He says in a serious tone, his face blank but shone with the same "obsessed" glint in his brown eyes. Hungary nods, seriously, she understands the situation. "Make yourself comfortable. I'll call Mei." He pulls his cellphone out of his pocket, dialling her number and pokes his head out the door, looking very wary. Maybe someone overheard their conversation? When he deduces that no one was around, he closes the door and his phone. "She says that she would be here in a few minutes." He announces.
The Hungarian is relaxing in the soft couch, flitting her tump over the screen. A small amount of blood came out her nose, the Japanese hands her a box with tissues, "Thank you, Kiku." She says politely, propping a few in her nose to stop the bleeding. "Do you have the map with you?" She asks, not letting her eyes from the screen.
"Hai." Japan responses.
They hear a knock.
"That must be Mei. I'll open the door." Hungary says, standing back on her foot and crossing the room to open the door.
"I'll make tea for us!"
She opens the door, stunned because there isn't one, but two people, "Oh! Liechtenstein! Taiwan! Come in, come in!" She says charmingly and motioning for them to come in.
"I hope you don't mind me bringing her." Taiwan smiles shyly. "She would be alone otherwise." She explains.
"No, no," Hungary shakes hear head, "I don't mind the slightest bit!" She smiles, "The more the merrier, right?" She hold the door open.
Liechtenstein bows slightly, "Hello miss Hungary." She says polity, "How are you doing?"
"Good! Very good!" She speaks happily, there's a glint in her eyes that makes the blond shiver and chills running down her spine.
"Kon'nichiwa, Mei-chan, Lily-san." He bows respectively. "How are you?"
"Good!" They chime in unison.
"Do you a want some tea?"
"Yes please!"
They both sit down on the soft couch. Hungary pours the tea in the cups that Japan brought with him. Japan disappeared, saying the the needs to retrieve something.
Hungary shows Taiwan the photos that she takes with her phone not too long ago. "Oh my god!" She gushes, "That's so adorable!" a steam of blood follows a little bit after when she says it. "I'll take my sketchbook!" She squeals excitedly, her eyes glinting with glee.
The Hungarian shows the pictures.
"They make a cute couple." Lily comments.
Japan comes back with a map. There's 'Demon-Angel pair or Tsundere pair' written in curvy letters.
"So Lily," Hungary begins, "Do you know fanfiction?"
...
One hour later:
Liechtenstein looks intensively to the screen, interested with what they wrote. It's very interesting indeed.
Hungary and Japan explain why fanfiction is a gift from the yaoi God.
Taiwan is drawing a doujinshi about that certain pairing.
Three hours later:
Things have complete gone to hell. Streams of maniacal laughter were heard across the entire hotel. Most nations do not want to know what's going on, it's the best option for their sanity.
Four hours later:
They almost died from blood loss because of the doujinshi and gone to the yaoi heaven.
Five hours later:
Switzerland came to retrieve his beloved sister, seeing her in that sate is something he did not wished for. He takes his guns out, only to figure out that he didn't bring his bullets. Thus, he carries his sister far away from the Devils and tries to save the little innocence she still has, he will make sure that she stays far away from the trio. He will kill Hungary tomorrow and tell his roommate aka the mafia boss what he saw—unfortunately, the yaoi trio would be really going to their heaven. He will go completely lived.
The next day
They begin with the morning session, normally it always goes well because Hungary always has her frying pan close. I don't need to say more now do I?
"Shut up!" Hungary bangs the frying pan hard on the table, most of the nations nearby were flinching but she got all their attention, "Let's start this meeting!"
"Wait!" America shouts, "Were's Switzerland and 'Mano? Maybe that's why Iggy here is grumpy." He pokes the said nation in the shoulder and that said nation just slaps his hand away, not paying attention to the obnoxious American.
If that's a cue, the door is kicked open. Literally. A boot stays up in the air for a moment from none other than Romano, the southern part of Italy. He was clad in his mafia outfit, his finest clothing: dark trousers, a black waistcoat tucked over a white shirt—probably Armani—a blood-red tie fastened loosely around his neck, a fedora with a grey lint resting on his head and a pair of very polished and shiny shoes. "Hungary..." He growls infuriated, Romano looks at her directly in the eyes, his eyes steeled and sharpened, "You. Are. Going. To. Die." He says slowly, very slowly and carefully, spelling every word clear. He pulls his guns out of thin air and starts shooting in her direction—he's not shooting blanks but actually real bullets.
She shrieks and ducks.
That's what you get when you mess with the head of the mafia or a Swiss' sister. Never do that at home kids unless you have a dead wish.
Guess who walks in the meeting room with a smug look on his face? Yes, that's right! Switzerland is! He got a cocky smirk plastered on his face. They're reasons why the Italian and the Swiss got along very well. I can explain it with one word...guns, dear. Guns. "That's what you get when you mess with my sister, Hungary." He mutters darkly.
"Bloody hell." England visibly pales. What do you want when your lover goes bat-shit crazy?
"'Mano's going crazy people!" The American yells, his voice loud and thundering through the meeting room.
No shit, America. We haven't noticed it at all.
"Die. Die. Die..."
If it's was luck then, England thanked the heavens for Romano's clumsiness, the said Italian stumbles in his lap by cheer luck, "You look lovely like always, love." He says nervously, stroking the apoplectic nation's hair and discard his beretta out of his hand throwing it somewhere away in the room in a forgotten corner.
"Grrr." He growls, trying to choke Hungary on cheer willpower and he tries—keyword 'try'—breaking free from the Brit's strong grip.
"Ve~ That looks fun! Germany! Let me sit on your lap!" North Italy asks excitedly, not bothered with the current situation at all, he got used to it due time after all, tables would be flipped when Romano is in that mode.
It's certainly a bad move.
Romano looks like he's ready to explode, which may be true. He tries to wiggle out of England's grip, again, ready to choke Germany with his strangling hands. "Don't look like an idiot! Help me, you bloody bampot!" The Brit pleads.
Germany flinches, looking wide-eyed, he saw the wrath that the Italian could make, and it wasn't pretty either.
America scurries, feeling a bit anxious and he helps to make Romano sit down on his lap, not an easy task when you have a hamburger in your hand. Romano eyes they hamburger thoughtfully, there are many things when a hamburger came in handy and certainly when the half-nation is ready to erupt.
"Gag, ah, Gluck ah...!"
"Honhon~ petit Italien is showing 'e's love, non?" France voice rings through the room, elegantly and sensual like always. And perverted.
"Not with a whole hamburger, France-san." Japan inform his politely, looking at America with mild interest before typing back in his laptop. 'This chapter would be published soon. It must come out now..!'
"Mon dieu." The Frenchman gaps, "The whole hamburger? No wonder that he's going bleu!"
Somehow, miraculously enough, America manages to swallow the whole hamburger and takes deep inhale of air and Russia pops out of nowhere, supporting the American whilst muttering, "Kolkolkolkol You shouldn't mess with the Italian mafia, da?"
"Ve, something wrong, fratellone." Veneziano inquires innocently, looking at him with his honey coloured eyes.
"Bueno, everything's fine." He responds, not taking his piercing eyes of the German and still tries to wiggle out the iron grip. How strong is the tea bastard actually, Romano thought indignantly. Before gradually giving up and slumping against England.
England's being suspicious, he tenses for a moment before relaxing his muscles, feeling that Romano wouldn't do anything now.
Wrong.
When Romano feels that the grip around him is loose enough. He latches himself onto Germany or Hungary—he can't kill them both, unfortunately—he's completely livid.
"Blimey! I should have known!" England roars angrily, taking Romano's flailing legs and pulling him back onto his lap. After all, the Italian didn't get too far with his homicidal tendencies because of the table standing between him and his victim(s), the brunet curses his luck. He's in a murderous mood today.
"This meeting will be dismissed!" Hungary, the host, shouts at the top of her lungs and catching everybody's attention, "I want you guys back here tomorrow!" She orders sternly, most of them grunt in reply.
They sat a few minutes in silence, until England couldn't handle it anymore, "Oh come on, love! Don't be mad at me!"
The brunet just huffs and scowls, looking away from the Brit's pleading eyes. Like hell he would fall for that shit!
"You know you can't stay too long mad at me." He singsongs, his eyes shining like fairy green and shit, fuck, they're sparkling.
The brunet just snorts.
England just gives up, and places his head on the Italian's shoulder and he closes his eyes.
"Kesese~ your spitfire is doing nothing!" Prussians loud and boisterous voice rings in his ear.
England looks up to see the grinning Prussian with his arms around...who's he again? Ca-ca—ah yes! Canada. "Good day to you too, Prussia, Canada." He says politely and sending the pair a weak smile, giving a little wave.
"Kesese~, you could use some beer, Iggy." The albino suggests, waggling his eyebrows.
"Bonjour, England, Lovino." Canada greets politely, smiling at the Italian.
"Ciao, Matteo." Romano answers absentmindedly.
"How are you doing." Canada questions softly. He got a look. Not good he guessed. "Haha," he laughs nervously at his friends, "You gave us quite a show." He changes the topic.
The Italian just glares at him, looking straight to him.
"Romano just grumpy that he didn't got to kill Hungary...or Germany." England explains the situations.
Canada just laughs nervously, holding his polar bear tighter.
"If you want to kill, West, then you need to go to me first!" Prussia exclaims, striking a sassy pose and his Gilbird chirps in agreement.
"Fine, Patato Albino bastard." The mafia boss sneers venomously, taking a hidden dagger out his sleeve and throwing it at the obnoxious Prussian. Prussia gives a manly shriek and ducks.
"Hey, that was my face!"
"It was supposed too, idiot." is the sarcastic response.
"Are we going to bitch here all day." England asks, sarcasm lacing his words.
He gets glared by both Prussia and Romano. They both just huff in annoyance.
"Whatever, I'm just too awesome to be bitching anyway." The albino shrugs and grins.
"Let just go." The Italian grumbles, standing back from his current position, tapping his foot impatiently on the floor, his arms crossed and a look of disdain on his face.
England just snorts and standing back up from his seat—somehow, he misses Romano on his lap, it feels right when he has his arms around his spitfire, loving and securely just like how it should be. He pops his joints back in there rightful place, sighing contently.
England being the "gentleman" he claims to be, opens the door with much grace and finesse, he bows a little and grins like a idiot, "After you, my love." The blond chirps happily and making a hand motion.
Romano scowls, a red tinge decorating his cheeks and nose, he stomps to the Brit, his hands in his pocket and kicks England's chin for good measures. That do you get for embarrassing me, bastard. He just clicks his tongue in disdain and walks further away.
"Love sick fool."
"You're the one speaking, git." England scoffs, looking at the pair with a grin on his face.
Prussia has his left arm tightly around Canada's waist, Gilbird resting on his right shoulder and he laughed.
For old times sake. Even so, they're still friends.
The two duos made their way to the cafeteria, the hotel had a good bar with varieties of strongs drinks and cocktails from good brands.
"So, what do you guys want?" The Prussian asks.
"Bloody Mary."
"A martini, shaken not stirred."
Prussia rolls his eyes at that. "And you, Birdie?" He questioned lovingly.
"I'll have maple liqueur, if they don't have it than Yukon Jack."
"Got it." He notes and nods, making his way to the bar.
When the albino arrived with their drinks, he saw Denmark and Norwasitting on their table, drink in their hands.
"Kesesese~ Mathias, how awesome to see you here." He greeted the Dane, setting their drinks in the table.
Romano took a sip of his Bloody Mary, enjoying the rich taste of liquor and tomatoes, "How did you guys actually meet?" He asked, toying with his silver cross.
"Ah, long story." The Dane said, nostalgia shining in his eyes.
"It would take hours to explain the whole story." Norway voice pipes up, monotone as usual but the Brit noticed a hint of sadness and admiration in the depths of his eyes. He inclined his head, "And what about you guys?"
"It would take a fucking lone time to explain the whole shitty fiasco." The brunet said in his own colourful words, taking a small sip.
"Kesesese it would take the awesome me too long to explain." Prussia exclaimed and took a big gulp of his awesome bier.
England sighed, raking a hand through his choppy blond hair, "Well, it's the second day..."
"And it the next meeting wouldn't be held until the afternoon." Canada added.
The Italian nodded, knowing what they were talking about, "Who will begin?" Five pair of different eyes stared expectantly at him. Romano groaned, mumbling "You traitor." to his British lover. He cleared his throat, "Fine, so. One day..."
A.N:
Hello lovelies, hey to you Elli. It's a pleasure updating this again, although with much complications because it slipped of my mind multiple times ago. *le sigh* So, here ya go, Elli, I hope you enjoyed it. ^^ And good luck with your finals.
Sincerely,
-JessicaStarCrossed
(ps: I'm sorry that I haven't contacted you for a while but I hope this chapter would earn your apology? Pretty please with a cherry on top?)