This story will contain graphic content, violence, language, and probably explicit yaoi in latter chapters. This fic is intended for adults. I do not own Hetalia or the characters.
The Great WarChapter 1Letters and British Food
Mouth gaping, Alfred looked at the innocent little letter. "Holy shit…Ivan you mad fuck…" He muttered. Then, a smile crossed his face, and he tore it open, laughing. "You bastard! Holy shit I thought he was dead! Hahahaha!" Arthur winced, and retreated back into the kitchen to finish breakfast. His smile suddenly faded."Awww man….fuck! It's all Cyrillic, bastard knows how I hate reading this shit.." He grumbled, but smiled again. He knew Ivan had his back to his chair, he went ahead and sat. The smell of the ink was nice, he'd smelled it before back in peacetime, when he would visit his friend, and would wait patiently as he would scribble out the remaining documents his boss had requested. The neat handwriting was enough to make his eyes water. "Really you…It's you…." He smiled, and took a moment to clear his eyes. "Alright, lets do this."
Alfred
I do hope you've gotten this. If you have, then good, my idea wasn't a total waste. I can't believe it took me so long to figure out a way to write to you.I'm not wanting to discuss pleasantries, or discuss much, anyways. As you can obviously tell I am alive. I can't tell you where I'm at, but it's in a good place, and I've taken you there before. I hope your grease-stained brain can remember. I'm getting tired comrade. Tired of sitting here and not being able to do anything. I don't know how much longer I can sit idle, knowing your people are above, occupying my land. It's strange, and feels all , I know you are not to blame for any of this. The message you left me in the beginning did in fact reach me. I knew you wouldn't lie.I think that…now is the time for us to emerge. We need to retake our homes, Alfred, and purge your citizens. I know what you're thinking. You believe I'm quite mad requesting something like this. But we are Nations Alfred. We're not alone. I have many of my countrymen with me, and I'm sure there are plenty in your home willing to fight. Your people aren't stupid. Arthur is with you, yes? I'm sure his people would love to take up arms against their Amerikan government. We need to do this. We can't let this go on, my friend. I know you of all people would want this to end, to set things right.I'm confident we can retake our homes. We should start with yours, in fact. The rest will fall into place. Take care, and I hope to hear from you soon. Send an owl, it's actually quite fun.
Your comrade,
Ivan Braginski
"Damn…" Alfred set the letter down in his lap, blinking back tears. He laughed softly. "Somehow I'm not surprised…you are mad enough to do this…" He laughed, and stood. "Hey, Arthur, we got pen and paper, right? Oh, and is Ivan's owl still hangin' about." He called. "Yes! Go in our room, but hurry, breakfast is almost ready." Alfred nodded, and walked down the short hall into the shared room. There was a large bed occupying the middle, and no windows. A lamp above was dimly casting light over the meager furniture. As expected, the owl, a tawny, intelligent thing, was perched on the corner of the dresser. "Hold on buddy, I'll give ya something to take back in a moment." Rummaging through the closet, he found his items, and started writing. It was short, and that's all he wanted it to be.Ivan
Got your letter. I think you're mad, but in a good way. I'm getting tired of this as well. I haven't had a cheeseburger in a crazy long time. Trips to the surface are spotty at best, and Arthur would kill me if I risked going into a MD's just for a burger. I'll tell you what. How about Art and I meet you in that place. My grease-stained brain remembers quite well. I'm surprised your brain hasn't been dissolved by all that damn vodka. Hahaha. Anyways, I'll seeya. And don't try and stop me.
Your comrade, and hero,
Alfred F. Jones
Folding the note back up, the blond grabbed some yarn from the closet, and snapped off two long pieces, and used one to keep the letter closed, and the other to attach the letter to the owl. He picked it up, and walked through the living room to another door, and opened it to reveal a long set of stairs. Walking up, he opened that door, and emerged into what used to be an office building. He checked to make sure no one was inside, before he stepped over the floor, and to a third door this time. Outside, he could hear distant cars. Opening the doors, he looked about in the bright sunlight. The part of the city he and Arthur were holed up in was completely deserted. Most of the buildings had been turned to rubble and hollowed out shells. This part was off limits to the people anyways, and Alfred still hasn't figured out why. Shouldn't they be rebuilding this place? Oh well. Stepping out onto the sidewalk, he looked to his companion. "Go see Ivan." he said, and threw it up into the air. He watched it take flight, and smiled. "So beautiful…" He said, and retreated back into the building. It never occurred to him on how that bird could fly across the world.
Back inside, Alfred met with Arthur, and told him of his success. "Well, good. Ah, breakfast is ready, so you may as well eat before doing anything else." His stomach gave a little lurch. Breakfast with Arthur usually meant no cheeseburgers, soda, or french-fries…But Alfred sucked it up. "Alright…" He mumbled. "But first…." Walking up behind Arthur, he pressed him to the counter top, Alfred kissed him gently, his hands reaching up to cup his face. Arthur started, pushing his hands against the bold American, but to no avail. He leaned back, lips parting in protest, only to have Alfred's tongue invade his mouth. Then, Alfred was off. "Just wanted something' sweet before breakfast." He said, smiling. Blushing madly, Arthur smacked the back of his head. "Git!" "I love you too, Arthur."
Retribution