(no subject)
Wah~ I'm not big into journals, and I'd rather just post on DA, or sumething~ But I'll give this place a chance! :) After all there's a huge hetalia community here, and I would love to be a part of that!
I haven't much idea on how to use LJ so forgive the newb!!! -///////-
Jsut for the sake of posting here's one my fanfictions I just pulled it off from my account of ff.net
Series: Axis Powers Hetalia
Title: Red String of Fate
Characters/ Pairings: Belarus x America
Rating: G
Warning : none
Summary:
She was Belarus. And she couldn't let America think that he had a grasp over her emotions, in any shape, way or form.
Red String of Fate
...o.O.o..
Belarus was a simple person. She wanted simple things...Like her brother's love. That wasn't too much to ask. She never prayed to God for anything else, (except for that time when she had prayed for her economy), so she figured it would be alright to pray to God for a very, very simple thing.
"God...Kill the man behind me...Now."
If God was human, he may have complied to her threat. But as God is…well, God. He didn't see the need to comply, if he was even there to listen to begin with? Belarus furrowed her eyebrows together, she knew she was getting frustrated; she started getting philosophical. That was never good.
The man was speaking loudly (to her?) he seemed not to want to leave her alone. What was he even doing here anyway? What business did he have in her country? Why was he just so goddamn irritating…?
The light touch of a hand on her shoulder made her turn on her heels, pulling out her knife pointing it dangerously close to his neck.
America.
He didn't seem fazed; his brows were raised in a quizzical defense, as if he expected the knife but questioned the need for it. Belarus held back a sigh. Just looking at the man exhausted her. But she couldn't let him know that, she had to seem indifferent. She was Belarus.
And she couldn't let America think that he had a grasp over her emotions, in any shape, way or form.
The American held up his hand in a joking surrender.
"I just wanted ta' talk with ya'."
Belarus held her glare and slowly lowered the knife, it wasn't like he came unannounced (at the very least) but still, he really shouldn't be touching her so casually.
"What do you want."
The way she spoke, didn't make it sound like a question. Just a forced out sentence. It angered her that the American chuckled. Realizing that it was his turn to speak, he stopped himself and his expression changed slightly, he looked (Belarus could never be sure as emotions weren't her forte) embarrassed.
"Well, I was just wonderin' if you would like to go…um…uh…out-" He paused and blinked at her blank face, then quickly added "-sometime" to wrap up the sentence.
Belarus stared at the man. She didn't know what he was asking from her. Her first reaction was that this was some kind of trap. When he said nothing else, she wondered if this was some kind of prank, and America's annoying gang would pop out of nowhere (which would cause her to retaliate since they would be in her home country without her approval). But as the American started to fidget, she questioned the man's sanity.
"We are already out."
She didn't signal to the outside world in which they were standing in. And there was no doubt in her mind that this is what he meant. The street was practically deserted, as the first snow of winter was settling in around them, in the evening's twilight.
He laughed unexpectedly, and ran his hand through his hair, as if she were the one exhausting him.
She bit back an annoyed growl.
"You're right." He laughed. "You're absolutely right."
His words hit her strangely. America never admits if someone else is right, he never admits he's wrong either. But here he was saying what she had honestly believed he would never say?
He smiled softly at her.
"You know Belarus. I'm going to start calling you Natalya."
His impudence always surprised her. He didn't even ask. He just stated. And he was damn cheeky about it to.
"But I won't let you call me Alfred unless you ask nicely~"
He smirked arrogantly. Belarus stared at the man flatly. She couldn't imagine herself ever understanding this abomination.
The woman turned on her heels, America thought it was strange how her chin was always held up high showing the world just how proud she was. Her country really wasn't in a good state, but still she remained the same as ever. It was as if she were still living in the cold war.
Not that Alfred was the one to talk: he let out a broken smile.
Natalya in the meanwhile was muttering curses under her breath (low enough so not even an elephant could hear them) she made her way back to her house, knowing that no matter what she would do or say the American would follow.
Because whether she realizes or not, Alfred likes to believe in a small things, like a Red string of Fate, and he liked to tie things together.
...o.O.o...
So yeah, just a small drabble~ Not the best thing I wrote but hey what's written is written, right?
I haven't much idea on how to use LJ so forgive the newb!!! -///////-
Jsut for the sake of posting here's one my fanfictions I just pulled it off from my account of ff.net
Series: Axis Powers Hetalia
Title: Red String of Fate
Characters/ Pairings: Belarus x America
Rating: G
Warning : none
Summary:
She was Belarus. And she couldn't let America think that he had a grasp over her emotions, in any shape, way or form.
Red String of Fate
...o.O.o..
Belarus was a simple person. She wanted simple things...Like her brother's love. That wasn't too much to ask. She never prayed to God for anything else, (except for that time when she had prayed for her economy), so she figured it would be alright to pray to God for a very, very simple thing.
"God...Kill the man behind me...Now."
If God was human, he may have complied to her threat. But as God is…well, God. He didn't see the need to comply, if he was even there to listen to begin with? Belarus furrowed her eyebrows together, she knew she was getting frustrated; she started getting philosophical. That was never good.
The man was speaking loudly (to her?) he seemed not to want to leave her alone. What was he even doing here anyway? What business did he have in her country? Why was he just so goddamn irritating…?
The light touch of a hand on her shoulder made her turn on her heels, pulling out her knife pointing it dangerously close to his neck.
America.
He didn't seem fazed; his brows were raised in a quizzical defense, as if he expected the knife but questioned the need for it. Belarus held back a sigh. Just looking at the man exhausted her. But she couldn't let him know that, she had to seem indifferent. She was Belarus.
And she couldn't let America think that he had a grasp over her emotions, in any shape, way or form.
The American held up his hand in a joking surrender.
"I just wanted ta' talk with ya'."
Belarus held her glare and slowly lowered the knife, it wasn't like he came unannounced (at the very least) but still, he really shouldn't be touching her so casually.
"What do you want."
The way she spoke, didn't make it sound like a question. Just a forced out sentence. It angered her that the American chuckled. Realizing that it was his turn to speak, he stopped himself and his expression changed slightly, he looked (Belarus could never be sure as emotions weren't her forte) embarrassed.
"Well, I was just wonderin' if you would like to go…um…uh…out-" He paused and blinked at her blank face, then quickly added "-sometime" to wrap up the sentence.
Belarus stared at the man. She didn't know what he was asking from her. Her first reaction was that this was some kind of trap. When he said nothing else, she wondered if this was some kind of prank, and America's annoying gang would pop out of nowhere (which would cause her to retaliate since they would be in her home country without her approval). But as the American started to fidget, she questioned the man's sanity.
"We are already out."
She didn't signal to the outside world in which they were standing in. And there was no doubt in her mind that this is what he meant. The street was practically deserted, as the first snow of winter was settling in around them, in the evening's twilight.
He laughed unexpectedly, and ran his hand through his hair, as if she were the one exhausting him.
She bit back an annoyed growl.
"You're right." He laughed. "You're absolutely right."
His words hit her strangely. America never admits if someone else is right, he never admits he's wrong either. But here he was saying what she had honestly believed he would never say?
He smiled softly at her.
"You know Belarus. I'm going to start calling you Natalya."
His impudence always surprised her. He didn't even ask. He just stated. And he was damn cheeky about it to.
"But I won't let you call me Alfred unless you ask nicely~"
He smirked arrogantly. Belarus stared at the man flatly. She couldn't imagine herself ever understanding this abomination.
The woman turned on her heels, America thought it was strange how her chin was always held up high showing the world just how proud she was. Her country really wasn't in a good state, but still she remained the same as ever. It was as if she were still living in the cold war.
Not that Alfred was the one to talk: he let out a broken smile.
Natalya in the meanwhile was muttering curses under her breath (low enough so not even an elephant could hear them) she made her way back to her house, knowing that no matter what she would do or say the American would follow.
Because whether she realizes or not, Alfred likes to believe in a small things, like a Red string of Fate, and he liked to tie things together.
...o.O.o...
So yeah, just a small drabble~ Not the best thing I wrote but hey what's written is written, right?