In order to celebrate HETALIA'S anime adaptation. AXIS POWERS HETALIA KINK MEME
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hetalia kink meme
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Okay, let's make history and be more epic than these people, shall we?
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Arthur had been making his semi-infrequent-but-really-more-frequent-than-he’d-care-to-admit trip to visit Alfred when he noticed something very peculiar. In the past, through his little detours through American suburbia, he had often come across hordes of energetic children, running around, waving twigs at each other and shouting botched Latin words in attempts to emanate the glory that was the British sensation of Harry Potter. This time, his walk through the charming town yielded hordes of wide-eyed teenage girls waiting outside a cinema, toting thick black books with their cheeks smothered in glitter. (Arthur was positive the glam rock fad was over. After all, it had been his fad. If anyone knew about the life of that craze, it was him.)
This had all greatly puzzled him. Since when had children stopped playing Harry Potter in lieu of something else? Since when were the struggles of Harry against the forces of (Arthur censored his thought there. He dare not speak “his” name.) not of interest to the youth of America? England had captured the imaginations of America’s children for near a bloody decade with that book series-since when did he lose their attention?
Alfred looked no different than he usually did, so clearly the impact of the new fad hadn’t been as large as it could have been, though the younger nation did look rather harried (and, perhaps, the slightest bit annoyed) when Arthur offhandedly asked, “So, what’s this new trend your people are into?”
“Don’t even get me started,” Alfred had said, sinking in his seat and dramatically throwing an arm across his forehead. “It’s driving me crazy-this chick wrote this book called Twilight, y’know?”
“I see.” Arthur attempted to take a sip of his coffee and promptly choked. He stubbornly ignored Alfred’s smirk and daintily wiped his mouth with his napkin. “What’s this book about?”
Alfred’s look of distaste returned fully and he rolled his eyes. “It’s some teenage drama-meaning angst-about vampires.”
Arthur blinked. “What’s wrong with vampires? I thought you enjoyed horror and the occult.” (It went without saying that England did, and it had been one of the things that he and America had bonded over.)
Nodding earnestly, Alfred said, “Oh, I do! But this…this is not about the occult. The vampires in this series are totally messed up-I mean, I can deal with them being hot, Lestat was a pretty sweet deal, but this just goes overboard. This is way too much!” He was suddenly on his feet, waving his arms and screaming like a madman. “For cripes sake, there are only so many times that you can tell us how goddamn gorgeous Edward fucking Cullen is! I don’t give a shit that he’s perfect and has golden eyes and is totally devoted! Bella Swan is a cunt! A motherfucking cunt!!! She’s a totally one-dimensional cunt. She’s a whiny, pathetic cunt who has no attractive features WHATSOEVER! She’s totally selfish and her character is flat!!! As flat as China’s breasts!! That’s pretty mad flat!! Why the fuck is everyone so in love with her, anyway?! She’s totally useless! She’s a klutz and she’s average looking and indecisive and she’s a fucking cunt!” Alfred’s hands pulled at his hair. “There’s no logical reason why Edward-who, according to Stephenie Meyer (aka Goddess of Cunts!!!) could probably have anyone he wants-would choose a cunt like her! I mean, shit! She’s such a cunt! I don’t give a fuck how “good” her blood smells! She’s a cunt! Her cuntishness is totally unattractive and should supersede however good her blood smells! If Edward still wants to tap that shit, he’s a fucking cunt, too!!”
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“It’s complete shit.” Alfred groaned, falling backwards into his seat. “It could’ve been written like a five year old.”
“Then why, pray tell, is it so popular?” Arthur asked.
America gave England a long, sarcastic look. “Y’know,” he said crassly, “I don’t ask you why something like Teletubbies is popular, do I?”
England wisely chose to drop the subject.
“I just don’t get it,” Alfred muttered to himself, shaking his head wearily. “There’re absolutely no redeeming features to that book. It’s totally outrageous.”
Arthur tilted his head to the side. “How so?” he asked curiously.
Alfred snorted. “There’s this one section where they talk about vampires and sunlight-”
“Don’t they burn up?” Arthur interrupted as he reached for one of the cookies Alfred had laid out. He popped it in his mouth.
“Apparently not,” Alfred sneered. “According to this Meyer woman, they fucking sparkle.”
Arthur choked on the cookie. “W-what?!”
Alfred nodded fervently. “Yeah, that’s what I said.” He shook his head in disbelief. “I even went to Romania-‘cause he’s sorta like a vampire, y’know? Always hiding away in his house and drinking all that creepy red shit-and asked him if vampires sparkle, and he laughed at me and called me a ‘leetle boy vith sheet for brehns.’”
Sparkling vampires? It was clear that America’s culture was hitting an all time low. “And this is what your teenagers are reading?” he deadpanned.
“Unfortunately,” America said mournfully. “It’s probably the biggest bandwagon we’ve had in a while…”
Arthur raised an eyebrow. “I noticed. I’ve not seen so many people reading since…well…since Harry Potter.” The reference to his cultural phenomena was subtle enough to seem casual, but unsubtle enough for Alfred, who was not so skilled in the art of tact, to catch his drift.
“It’s funny that you mention Harry Potter, ‘cause I kinda blame it for this,” Alfred said frankly, brushing off Arthur’s look of indignant surprise. “No, seriously, this series wouldn’t have been anywhere as well-liked as it is if Harry Potter hadn’t ended.” He gave England a sour look. “What the hell was Rowling thinking, only making seven books?!”
England bristled. “I’ll have you know she’s publishing some additional books that are related!” He pursed his lips. “Something about a fellow named Beedle, I believe…”
“Fuck that,” America snapped. “That’s not gonna help. This book’s completely taken over-it’s practically got a cult following it! I mean, shit, Arthur, they’re saying it’s the new Harry Potter!”
“Excuse me?” Arthur gawked. “First of all, there is nothing, and I mean nothing, that can compare to Harry Potter! He’s British!! He’s got an accent! I thought your girls loved my accent! How can he be usurped by some sparkling vampire with no accent?” He shook his head and rose to his feet. “It’s not possible,” he declared. “I refuse to believe that Harry Potter has been replaced by something of such poor calibre.” He gave America an expectant look. “I shall be needing a copy of this book, then. I would like to see exactly what dribble your people are reading this time.”
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“Why?”
Alfred gave Arthur a grim look. “You’re either going to go blind or kill all your brain cells. It’s just a question of which happens first.”
Arthur stared down at the daunting stack of books. Then he nodded valiantly and heaved them into his arms. “Very well,” he said firmly. “I shall get back to you as soon I can with my verdict.”
America clapped a hand to England’s shoulder and sincerely told the man, “You’re very brave, Arthur.” Then he paused and reconsidered his words. “Or very masochistic. Maybe both.”
England scoffed and left back for his home.
They didn’t see each other again for over a month.
After nearly two months had passed, America began to get concerned and made an impromptu trip to visit his ally. (Shit! Maybe the books had killed him!!) Alfred stormed Arthur’s stuffy estate and found himself banging desperately on the door. “Arthur!” he bellowed as he hammered away. “Arthur! If you’re alive and not dead, get your skinny ass out here!”
There was the muffled sound of shuffling from within the house, and the doors slowly creaked open to reveal a single green eye, reddened with lack of sleep. “Alfred?” The door swung open. “What the devil are you doing here?”
Alfred flung himself at Arthur, smothering England in a bone-cracking hug. “Arthur!” he wailed. “I was so worried for you! You never contacted me after you took those books, and I thought-” Alfred’s voice trailed away and he slowly released Arthur and stared down pensively at the man in his arms. There was something different about England. Then it hit him. “Arthur,” Alfred said, slowly, carefully, “why is there glitter on your cheeks?”
England flushed darkly, the silver sparkles shining more vividly against the rosy hue of his blush. “Erm. Well…I…” He ducked his head, mortified.
America gazed pensively at England for a moment, thinking and reconsidering. Finally, he hung his head and groaned. “Shit…”
Arthur’s head snapped up. “What?” he asked nervously.
Alfred sighed and ran a hand through his hair, his eyes never leaving Arthur’s face. “Fuck,” he muttered, smiling sheepishly. “Meyer was right.”
“I beg your pardon?” Arthur raised an eyebrow. “What about?”
Alfred laughed breathily and tilted Arthur’s chin upward. “Sparkles are pretty sexy.” He gently pressed his lips to England’s, and when he pulled away, he added, thoughtfully, “But they’re even sexier with British accents.”
Needless to say, the American market for glitter began to flourish. (Go figure.)
Anon would like to also mention that Twilight’s effect on the glitter thing is getting out of hand. I mean, seriously. Check this out.
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xDDDD
nice
what the hell the edward glitter
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EPIC LULZ, MAN. EPIC!
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Alfred is so right about those books. Well almost. I mean the first one was rather good.
Whatever, i liked the fact that Alfred wasn't a fan this time. Normally he's loving it to no extent.
But the last part was the best. "Sparkles are pretty sexy" Hihi, the little fangirl in me was really happy about that.^^
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Alfred on this was my hero, even if at the end he approved the glitter but hey!, who wouldn't with a sexy englisman as lover?
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