"I..."
"AMERIKA, EXPLAIN-"
"I need to talk to Mom..." [Aaaaah I hate writing that the American way-]
"At midnight?" Germany sighed.
"I couldn't sleep..."
"Us either," Wales nodded, "I'll get the others for you..."
"Thanks, Wales," Ame nodded, stepping past Germany and straightening his bohemian skirt.
"You know each other?"
"I know all of them," America grinned, "All of Mom's nations, I mean."
"And may I ask... That skirt really suits you... But um... why do you always-?"
"I like skirts," Ame shrugged, "And dresses... And winged eyeliner paired with a gold eyeshadow and black mascara-" He seemed to lose himself in thought for a second, blushing and staring down at himself as if questioning what he'd just let slip. either that or he was regretting not wearing his usual copper eyeshadow.
"Are... you ok?" Ger asked after a few minutes had slipped by.
"Hey Ger... Can I tell you a secret?"
"Ja, of course!"
"I've never fit in with other male nations... Except UN, but he gets along with everyone... I've never liked sports or 'bro nights' or whatever else boys do... I like baking and makeup and designing clothes and character creation and comics. I like trying on dresses and skirts and high heels and painting France's nails for her and chatting about random stuff... I hate flirting with people and I hate the smell of cologne and busy night clubs... But I like drawing up battle plans and designing uniforms and painting my nation's landscape... My point is, I'm not the typical boyish type everyone thinks I am and that I pretend to be... In fact, I'm not sure I'm a boy at all..."
"Ok..." Germany nodded, gazing up at Ame as he registered what he had just been told. "I support you, as long as you're happy, Amerika... Um... What pronouns should I use for you?"
"They/them for now, please... Until I'm sure..." Ame whispered, not quite meeting Germany's eye.
"Ok," Germany smiled reassuringly at them, "Is that why you wanted to speak to your mother?"
"Not yet," The US sighed, "I'll tell her when I know for certain... This is about the USSR..."
"DO. NOT. KILL. HIM-"
"Trust me, I won't. I'm hoping I won't even see him..."
"USA, why are you here at this unholy hour?" huffed a melodic male voice, not too dissimilar in accent to the UK herself.
"Hi, England," Ame sighed, turning to face the four nations behind him. Obviously there were Wales and the man who had just spoken - England-, who had hair like vanilla and eyes carved of ice by the Norse gods themselves. They were accompanied by two others: another, much taller, man with a muscular build, a face framed by shaggy hair forged of flames and covered from head to toe in freckles, with eyes that held the same mischievous spark as Wales', and a woman with mousy brown hair that fell to her waist and eyes that reminded Germany of the coffee that he so desperately craved.
"Why. Are. You. Here?" England asked again, mouth twisting into an unamused frown as he was kept waiting.
"I need to talk to you all-"
"We guessed."
"-About the USSR."
"Want me to get 'im?" the ginger lad asked, looking surprisingly cheerful for someone who had been awoken at midnight by a rather eccentric American person and a caffeine-addicted German.
"NO!" Ame and England yelled in unison, with England continuing, "I can't stand the commie bastard, I will never understand why our Britain wants to marry him!"
"Well, if she's happy with him-"
"WHAT?!" Ame yelled, "MARRIED?!"
"Not yet," the coffee-eyed nation sighed, "But they will be soon..."
"My god.... I need to speak to her. Like... assembled, not you four-"
"No," the girl answered in a harsh tone that took Germany by surprise, given her soft eyes and angelic face, "Too dangerous... She wasn't well yesterday, so we're staying split until the Kings of Angst stop destroying her mental health."
"NORTHERN IRELAND, DO NOT SPEAK ABOUT ME LIKE TH-"
"SHUT UP, ENGLAND!" The other three yelled, much to the amusement of the onlooking countries.
"Firstly," Ame sighed, giving up on speaking to his mother directly and getting straight down to business. "The USSR can't stay here. I know she lik- loves him, but he has to go. And this... marriage... It just won't last..."
"Do you know she's pregnant?"
"Northern Ireland, shut your trap for everyone's sake," Wales sighed, waiting for the explosion.
"SHE IS?? Well... If she keeps it, I guess it'll stop her from missing Soviet... That being said, I'm not against murdering him-"
"Amerika. No." Ger groaned, "Let's be diplomatic, ok?"
"We'll see..."
"Well," Scotland finally added, staring sympathetically into America's eyes, "I think she'd agree with you. Three of us do, so she should too... That being said, I don't see the harm in them gettin' married."
"I think he should stay," Wales shrugged, "but if he is leaving, let's wait until after they're married, seeing as that's why he came back."
"Ok," Ame nodded, realising that they weren't going to get a better result than this from arguing further. "One more thing... Is the EU here?"
YOU ARE READING
Operation Amerika || BritSov
FanfictionHello reader, ever thought to yourself 'hey, what if an extremely drunk America broke into Germany's house at 3am with his pants on his head?' I'm guessing you probably haven't, for reasons I can't quite explain, I have..! :') Why? Who knows! Am I i...
