azureether | [Axis Powers Hetalia] Love me for Who I Am (America/England) [4/5]

Title: Love me for Who I Am // [FF.net Link]
Fandom: Axis Powers Hetalia
Genre: Romance, Comedy, Drama
Rating: PG-13 for this chapter
Characters, Pairings: America/England, (on this chapter) Denmark, Norway, France. Hints of Denmark/Norway
Summary: Prompt: Thanks to one of England's spells, America becomes the kind of person England always said he wanted him to be. Eventually, however, England realizes that he prefers the old America to this one and searches for a way to turn him back.
Notes: Written for

usxuk Secret Santa Exchange. Many thanks to

strawberryburst for betaing! ♥

Norway's place didn't have as extreme temperatures as his Nordic brothers', but it was still enough to force England to put on his thickest coat. Still, this day seemed to be particularly chilly, so England was constantly cursing the fact of not having brought something else. Like America's bomber jacket, the same one that now lay forgotten in England's bedroom ever since America had chosen to discard it. England remembered having used it himself in older times, and even then he thought there was something in that jacket, as if was perpetually impregnated with America's own warmth. Yeah, that jacket would be really useful now...

...and here he was, trailing off again. Was he even able to think on something without having his thoughts ultimately re-directed towards America? Always longing about old times, when he should concentrate on the task in hand. Which was… oh, right, finding Norway's house.

Norway's house was located in a southern valley, not very far from the coast. It was a nice small town surrounded by forests dressed in white, and a gentle snow made the place look like a Christmas postcard. But the cold air was far from gentle, and England adjusted his coat to protect himself against the chilly breeze as he wondered how America was able to stand such extreme temperatures. Perhaps he shouldn't hang up the phone when America called in winter; it was rather cruel to leave the guy on his own with such a freezing weather...

England almost smashed his forehead when he realized he was thinking about America again. However, he was already in front of Norway's house; he would have to save that for later.

It wasn't of common knowledge, but England and Norway visited each other regularly. Both shared a deep love for folklore and magical beings, so despite not having the most exciting conversations, England really appreciated sharing a moment with the Nordic nation. Even though Norway could really scare him at times, especially when he opened the door before England could even knock.

Like he did now.

"I was wondering when you would show up," an impassive Norway spoke from the doorstep, finding a surprised England, fist raised, ready to knock the door.

"A-As timely as always, huh?" England replied with a slight stammering, forgetting about greetings and manners. But Norway just nodded, and gestured for him to get inside.

"Finland told me about your little problem," Norway mumbled thoughtfully as they walked through the hallway. "You see, I wouldn't attempt to perform a spell without making sure I already have the counterspell. Except if I'm really desperate..."

"That was a big mistake of mine, but... wait a second!" England exclaimed, looking surprised. "Aren't you going to tell me I was wrong for casting that spell?"

Norway just shrugged. "There's no need for me to lecture you. Magic users are responsible for their acts, and no matter what I say, I think you already made up your mind about this being wrong or right. Otherwise, you wouldn't be here..."

"I... I think you're right." England shyly smiled. Norway didn't talk a lot, but he sure knew what he was talking about. England absently thought that perhaps he should learn a thing or two from Norway, like not throwing spells so hastily and without thinking on the consequences. Not that he would be willing to admit that out loud, though.

Norway gestured for him to take a seat as he brought some tea. Again, England was thankful Norway knew him enough to be one of the few considerate nations that would offer him a decent tea. The only problem? Norway often offered them with those (in his humble opinion) distasteful, half-assed, unrefined Danish cookies. And speaking of Denmark, England sure had chosen a bad moment to visit Norway...

"You must do something, Norge!" a whimpering Denmark suddenly appeared in the living room, rushing to shake Norway's arm as England rolled his eyes. "It's...it's terrible indeed! You already saw what happened with my Christmas Tree, but that isn't even the worst! America won't even touch my cookies anymore; instead, all he ever eats are those horrible English scones! And—"

"What's your problem with my scones, you toss—" England tried to reply sounding angry, but Denmark ignored him and continued rambling.

"—and what's worse, he doesn't even buy my furniture anymore!" Denmark finished with a pout.

Norway looked at him impassively. "Denmark, as far as I know, America preferred to buy furniture from Swed—"

"I knew you would understand, Norge!" Denmark gave a whine and he wrapped Norway in a big hug. "Of course, we're going to do this just for America, and not because we want to fix the mess made by some drunk guy!"

"Hey, you..."

Now Denmark was finally looking at England with a cocky grin written on his face. That was good old Denmark for you, England thought. Still, the idea of Denmark lecturing him didn't feel right at all.

"Were you saying something, England?"

"I'd appreciate if you could repeat that to my face, thank you."

"I said that you were most likely totally wasted and goofing around with a magic wand and that ridiculous butler outfit of yours. Am I mistaken?"

"If anyone has ever done such idiotic thing, I think it would have to be you, I'm afraid."

"Oh, yeah? Then prove it, stuffy Brit!"

"My pleasure, you daft Dane."

"That's enough, you two." Norway finally spoke as emotionless as always, but the sound of his voice was telling both of them Norway wasn't willing to keep joking. "If you don't behave, Den, there won't be storytelling tonight. And—"

"But, Norge!"

"No buts. And," Norway was looking again at England, ignoring Denmark's pout, "I think I can do something about your problem. I'll check my spell books, but let me warn you: I haven't used them in a long time."

"Ah...that's OK, I guess." England said with a slight tone of nervousness on his voice (and also a bit of incredulity; how did Norway manage to control Denmark like that, anyways? But then, he remembered he himself used to deal with America). "I'd be really thankful if you could do something."

"No, the pleasure is mine." Norway replied, his usual stoic voice back, doing his best to stand up with Denmark still clinging to his arm. "If you'd be kind enough to follow me."

Norway's attic was by far more tidy than England's, and far less gloomy. As Norway looked through his books and Denmark absently whistled a cheerful song while digging through old boxes, England had been absorbed by a book about Nordic mythology. Mythological beings always fascinated England, and as he read the book he found himself planning adventures. If he managed to get old America back, maybe he would try to convince him to visit the Nordic countries following the track of those fantastic beings. Even though America would probably mock him for believing in such things (as he always did), it was for sure that America would never dismiss an invitation for adventure. And as much as England loathed admitting it, he deeply enjoyed traveling along with the younger nation.

"I have several tricks to undo charms," Norway suddenly said, bringing England out of his daydream. "But spells are stronger and hard to get undone without the proper counterspell. Yours seems like a powerful one, and I can't seem to find a suitable counterspell for it. I mean, they do exist, but the counter effects can be too terrible to even mention them at all."

"There isn't a good counterspell, then?" England muttered, sounding worried. "But... is there a way to reverse some effects, or at least, to lessen them?"

"That might work. "

Norway grabbed a dusty book, while Denmark was starting to give his first yawns. After looking through several pages, Norway finally found one caught his attention.

"Maybe the solution would be getting America to loosen up himself. This one sounds like a good one; the Unrepressing Spell. Better known as the Sit-no-more," he pointed to the book, "it aims to release your inner urges, being able to turn a perfect gentleman into the most wild and passionate lover you've ever seen. The book says: 'prepare yourself to see your partner turning from a snob into a beast'."

"S-sounds fine, I guess." England started sweating. "But why is it called the Sit-no-more?"

Norway looked at England with a weird look, as if the answer was too obvious. "Well, it's called that since... if America ever receives that spell, I can guarantee you'll be unable to sit down at least for a whole week."

England could feel himself blushing furiously to his ears; as much as he wanted America back, he wasn't sure if he was up for paying such a... painful price to get it. What's more, he was impressed to see Norway talking about this so calmly!

Denmark, on the other hand, was now wide awake and looking at Norway full of excitement. "That sounds pretty neat, Norge! Hey, do you think you could use that spell on me? I assure that you'll feel glad to—" He couldn't finish the sentence, since Norway gave him a strong knock on his head.

"I don't think it would work on you, Denmark. You aren't even a gentleman to begin with," Norway replied ignoring Denmark's pouting face. "Now, England, should I cast this spell on America?" He continued, not showing even the slightest sign of joking. In fact, he sounded deadly serious.

England gulped. "I'll... I'll consider it. But first, how about looking for another choice?" He added in a rush.

Norway nodded, and both he and Denmark kept on looking through books of all sizes. However, as the room got darker and the sun started setting, the two tired Nordic nations just shrugged, having carefully checked every single book in the room to no avail.

"I'm sorry to say this, but it seems like I don't have any suitable spell for this case, England," Norway said, sounding somewhat bored. Or at least, slightly more bored than usually. "I could ask Sweden for some books since, clearly, I can't count on Den for that. I seem to recall he lost his book collection in a bet or a drinking night..."

He raised his tone voice while saying this, causing Denmark to giggle sheepishly. England set aside his own thoughts, trying to not to think of someone who used to laugh in the same childish way.

"No, it's fine; there's no need to do that, for now. Anyways, thanks for taking your time to help us. I'll call you if I decide to use this... this spell you found," England replied, blushing unwittingly just at the mere thought.

"It's fine. Call me whenever you want... or whenever you feel prepared to. Good luck, England," Norway added with a nod.

England replied nodding nervously, and saying goodbye to both nations, he left Norway's place.

On his way back home, he thought on his chances. With no spell or potion, he would have to keep asking other nations with magical cultures. Egypt? He might curse him. His brothers? He was sure if he were to ask such a favor from them, he would be paying for it for life. To ask the fairies was a choice, but he wasn't quite ready to have them scolding him; knowing them, they might want to give him a lesson or something. Blimey, maybe he would have to take the risk? That, or to start thinking of other options.

But he knew one thing for sure… he would use Norway's spell only if no other options were available.

Once he got back home, the first thing he found was the last person he wanted to see in that moment: a certain annoying Frenchman, sitting comfortably on his living room.

"Angleterre, mon ami!"

"What are you doing here, frog? I thought I had made myself clear, I won't use your primitive methods—"

"Angleterre, you offend me! I've been thinking on this, you know...and since I'm the nation of romance, I've been realizing I was suggesting the wrong methods If you'll allow, I have much more civilized advice that truly reflect my greatness."

"You, giving civilized advice? I have to hear that. Let's see, what kind of bloody foolish thing did you think of this time?"

"It's like this. You must know already even the finest gentlemen hides repressed desires. Especially British ones. But— let me finish!" France hurried to say after seeing England getting ready to throw a cushion direct to his face. "Merci. Alors, as I was saying, I've already thought on a clever and painless way to wake up our sleeping Amerique."

"Is that true?" England's face shone with hope. France had said 'painless', which was way more than Norway could currently offer him.

As for France, he almost felt bad for England. He seemed to be so desperate he was willing to try everything, even taking the advice of his own rival. But France was determined to have a little fun first.

"Oh, I'd be glad to tell you! But first, I need some incentive. Pourrais-tu m'apporter un verre de vin?

"...what?"

"Just bring me a glass of wine, Anglais bête." France groaned, already getting impatient.

As much as it irritated England being called an idiot, he had to resist the urge to squeeze France's neck, or else, he would never know what his great idea was.

After being brought the glass, France took quite a lot of time before tasting it: shaking the glass, smelling the contents, and examining it against the light. Grinning because of England's already pissed face he finally tasted a sip, just to spit everything over the carpet.

"C'est répugnant! What's this, sewer water?"

England just smirked, looking amused. "Oh, that? French wine. It happens to be from the same bottle you gave to me so generously for my birthday. I'm surprised, though, that you say it's... répugnant," England cited, using a terrible French accent. "I wouldn't expect you giving me a cheap wine of poor quality. That would speak terribly of your so called good taste!"

France frowned, feeling himself trapped. But his face quickly lighted up again as he quirked his lips.

"I'm glad you acknowledge my exquisite taste. Now then, I do recall in fact giving you this delicate wine bottle. That was quite brilliant of me, as it would have been awful to have let go to waste a bottle of perfectly good wine. All I did was to give you a wine that fit you and your, uh... unique sense of taste. Oh, d'accord!" France rushed to add, as he saw how England was already clenching his fits and teeth while mentally counting to ten. "It was obvious you wouldn't have some decent wine in this place. Now then, I suppose America's normally the one to do the move on you. Right?"

"Yes... " England mumbled, slurring the words. But France didn't fail to notice the other averting his eyes and blushing, which made his smirk bigger.

"Ah, I see... that was to be expected. A really good lad, don't you think so? He was such an eager and diligent apprentice back in the day... ok, ok!" France stopped as England was already huffing; his eyes showing that he seemed ready to murder him. "Now then, where was I? Right; you have made the terrible mistake of constantly waiting for him to make the move. The poor boy must currently be a bundle of nerves, his young and over-energized hormones suffering because of such a harsh repression. And... that's when you enter the scene, mon ami! Use your tricks to seduce him. In a few minutes, you'll have him begging for more!"

England's eyes went wide with realization. But he wasn't convinced yet. "Sounds fine, but... wait a minute. What 'tricks' are you talking about?"

"Come on, you know you're a way more kinky and horny man than I could ever be. Now—wait! Merci. You just have to make sure to give your best for a splendid performance. It makes me jealous, just thinking about it!"

"...and, what do you suggest?" England arched an eyebrow. He was starting to dislike the way this sounded.

"I thought you would know of something! Maybe going all 'British Empire' on his pants? Maybe bringing Captain Kirkland back to life? Or...," he threw a wink while making his voice deeper, "maybe I can take care of this problem for you. I would certainly not mind at all...!"

France couldn't finish his sentence, since the cushion he had been trying to avoid for a while finally met his face.

"Oh, bugger off. I'm going to do this in my own way," England huffed. "I'm going to give such a spectacle, that I'd be really surprised if that poor attempt of a gentleman can keep his composure after my performance."

"That's the spirit, mon cher!" France replied, cheerful but also slightly wary. England was now smirking in an almost scary way, and France couldn't help but feel worried. Now that he had managed to unleash the closet pervert hidden inside England, who knew what could happen?

That, he wouldn't know. As tempting as it sounded to see England in a seductive mode, for once, France didn't feel comfortable seeing it. He had a bad feeling about all of this but it was too late for him to say something.

After several weeks, America was finally going to spend a night at England's place. He called England in a rush to let him know (did he? He couldn't even remember), but anyways, it didn't really matter. He was going to spend a single night in there; the next day, he was leaving early heading to France, Germany, and some other countries he couldn't even remember. It was a good thing that he always brought an agenda with him (since he had long ago disposed of that annoying laptop).

He arrived earlier than usual, so he wasn't surprised to find nobody at home. Still, the house was unnaturally dark; not even the fairies were around, and the silence was starting to make him feel uneasy.

Finally, he turned on the lights.

Not in a million years could have he be prepared to see what he was seeing at that moment.

England was spread out on the couch, wearing that skimpy butler costume of his, leaving too little for the imagination. He looked deadly serious, but after seeing America's expression he smirked, feeling very pleased with himself. However, after noticing that America was completely unresponsive, he started to get impatient. England stood up, just when America was doing a gesture to leave the living room.

"And where, exactly, are you going, cowboy?" England purred, grabbing America by his tie to bring him closer. England's rough tone had an unmistakable pirate-like sound to it, but he had made sure to keep a thick British accent as well. One that he knew it could make America go head over heels for him. "The party hasn't even started yet..."

"N-nice to see you, England." America stammered. "J-just what are you doing dressed like this? You're going to catch a cold..."

"Hmmm, I figured you would want to have some fun after such a long journey," England replied, pressing America's body against the wall. "So then I thought you would want...to do...something...interesting."

England marked each one of his words with a stroke to America's groin, and America was already squirming so hard that England felt things were going the good way. At this point, England's voice and eyes were darkened with such lust that in a normal situation America would already be all over England, kissing him while taking off his own clothes.

But something was off. Instead of relaxing, America was getting more and more tense. He was furrowing his eyebrows, and if England didn't know him any better, he would say that America looked rather scared.

And then, England realized it. He had forgotten that the current America was too much of a gentleman for his own good.

He released America and stepped back. As soon as America caught his breath again he rushed to take his own vest, using it to cover England's almost naked body. Visibly more relaxed, America let out a sigh. "Just what were you thinking, England? Okay, I don't think I want to know it, but—it's mid-winter, you can't go around dressed like that. "

England just couldn't believe his ears. Was America really asking for an explanation? "Are you daft? I wanted to have sex with you, if you haven't realized it. Since when do you need an excuse for doing this?"

"Okay, England," America sighed, scratching his neck. "Look, I'm sorry, but I have to prepare a report for tomorrow. And then, I'm leaving early tomorrow for my next trip. Can we save this for another time? I'm going to make up for this, I promise..."

Now England felt himself falling into despair. His eyes couldn't hide his disappointment. "Another time? That's what you've been saying every single bloody night you've come to my place!"

America frowned. "Come on, England. You know this is important. It's my responsibility as a nation, remember? Weren't you the one who used to say that I needed to take my job more seriously? That I needed to behave as a grown-up man?"

"And what about me?" England's pained eyes grew wide, already burning with imminent tears. "You've barely touched me in weeks! You say you love me, but rather, it looks like you don't even want me anymore! If I didn't know you any better, I'd say you already found someone else in your many journeys!"

"Don't be unfair, England." America replied with a harsh voice. "I believe I've proved to you on countless times how I feel about you. I've been polite, well-mannered, respectful... the gentleman you always wished for me to be. And now you come with this? I just can't believe it."

England scowled, fighting to contain his tears. "Fine, America. Play the polite, diplomatic man... I don't care. Just don't come to me looking for affection, mister Gentleman. If you're going to treat me in such a bloody impersonal way, then I guess I'll have to give you the same treatment. Now if you'll excuse me..."

England turned and headed upstairs. America didn't even try to stop him; instead, he seemed frozen in place, his hand tentatively trying to reach England.

"England...you realize you're overreacting, do you?" America finally managed to speak with a wary voice. For the first time in weeks his face was showing something other than calm, and there was worry darkening his eyes. "I'm sure you're as tired as I am, this is just a momentary thing. Can't we discuss this with a cup of tea?"

A cup of tea. Of all the things America had said that night, it was this that made England feel he was pursuing a lost cause. Already on the stairs, he did an effort to ignore his clenched heart and turned his head to spit some last words.

"If you need something from me, call my office; I'm sure my secretary can make an appointment for you. Have a nice day, Mr. Jones." And with these words dripping in venom he finally left, leaving behind an astonished and unresponsive America.

America stood silent, eyes fixed on the floor. While he couldn't help but feel pissed with England, he knew England was saying the truth. He hadn't been at home; he hadn't been with England at all. And even though he tried to convince himself that he did everything to make England feel proud of him, he couldn't ignore that voice telling him that he forgot an important part. Maybe, if he hadn't ignored that feeling of unease he had felt everytime he was travelling around or when he stayed working until late...

But it was too late to regret it. Sitting on the couch —their couch, he had to remind himself— he struggled trying to figure out just what had gone wrong. And upstairs, curled on his bed —their bed, in fact—, England was letting out the tears he had been containing through quiet but anguished sobs.

Night fell peacefully over the United Kingdom, but in a small home, two heartbroken nations had anything but peace. And watching over them, a group of fairies shook their heads, a sad and worried expression written on their faces.

Notes: If you didn't understand a thing from what France said, that was exactly his intention; to use French to annoy England. Sadly, to France's misfortune, England does understand quite a few words in French, but long sentences should still be able to confuse him. Anyways, here's a short glossary:

Pourrais-tu m'apporter un verre de vin?: Could you bring me a glass of wine?

Anglais bête: idiot Englishman

répugnant: disgusting

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

I love it. I just wanted to shed a few tears right at the near end of the chapter. Oh I can't wait for the last chapter! D':

Oh and also:

"The only problem? Norway often offered them with those (in his humble opinion) distasteful, half-assed, unrefined Dutch cookies."

Its that one minor detail, its suppose to be "Danish" instead. I just wanted to let you know~

Final chapter is on the works already, so I expect to have it out very soon :) I'm glad you liked it! And I'm sorry for making you shed tears ^^'

I was also pointed to this in FF.net; my mistake >.< It's corrected now, thank you!

I am so so glad to see you continuing this~! It's so nice to see a fic that is angsty and has serious themes that can still have it's humor moments. The segment here with Denmark, Norway and the 'sit-no-more' definitely hit that tone- serious situation, but a humorous read. Your Denmark and Norway were great in this!

Also, oh England. You've gotten yourself into this and now you are really desperate to get yourself out of it. Especially since you're taking advice from France. I'm actually very glad to see that sex wasn't the answer in this situation, but instead it brings America to a realization that he isn't acting right. It's very interesting to see that almost switched-roles aspect America being the workaholic and England being the one who wants to see him loosen up. I really hope those fairies can do something to help them!

I'm aware not everybody enjoys having a contrasting story, but I'm afraid I can't write an angsty trainwreck. So I try to balance it, even if it's through lame jokes. I'm glad to know it works somehow for you!

Ah, England sure did his best, but the way out of this isn't even on England's hands, so for sex to be the answer was out of question. It's good to know that you see this as a good thing.
Also, I don't think America is aware that he wasn't doing things right. I guess he chose to go with the flow; he was what England wanted him to be and that's enough for him. He went too far on his role due to other reasons, though; and now that England doesn't want him the way he's now, he feels conflicted.
Anyways. The fairies will really be a help on this, but not in the way you think...

I'm also glad to see the continuation ^^ though sorry I can't make a good comment/review for fic because I really can't write... x); but everyone in the fic is IC and I also love some Denmark/Norway you wrote there haha.

I'm waiting for the last chapter! ♥ :)

I didn't know you were reading this o////o Ah, this is embarassing xD;
No problem, any kind of comment's welcome ^^ (especially because I'm really bad at reviewing fics; I end being incoherent instead xD)
Denmark/Norway! ♥ I really enjoy writing that pairing, so I'm glad you liked it :)

Last chapter should come really soon ^^

I was amused at Norway's sit-no-more, although I don't think it would work. It would probably just make America into a sex fiend, on top of all the other problems.

Oh wow, things have really gotten bad. Even America is beginning to realize he's too much of a workaholic, although it was only after England lost it and told him to go away. I do hope that the fairies can help England to fix this mess he's gotten himself into.

I really struggled giving a name to that curse so it wouldn't sound in bad taste. But apparently, people liked both the curse and the name xD Also, I think England had genuine reasons to be scared of a sex-fiend!America, so yes; it would have been worse!

I don't think America's completely sure yet about what he did wrong. He had had a bad feeling about this but he dismissed it because, well, England seemed to be satisfied. And now he suddenly finds England being annoyed with his current self. No wonder he feels lost!
And yes; the fairies are going to be a help but not in the way one would expect...

Thanks for reviewing! :)

First of all, I'm so sorry for not commenting sooner. OTL. I'll have to more diligent next time.

Anyways, love how you balance out the seriousness of this fic with humor. I like how you characterized Norway and Denmark in this; their personalities contrasted really well, and the sit-no-more thing made me go :D

I'm really interested in seeing what happens next. =] >Go, fairies, go!

Don't worry at all!!! I didn't even know you were reading it, it's kind of embarassing xD But a comment's always welcome ^^

I do my best to try to get a balance...I know it's hard to read a fic that's purely angst; but it's also hard to write something like that. And seriously, it has been emotionally draining for me to write the America of this fic, because I love the cheerful and sunshiney America to pieces *sigh*
Also, I'm glad you liked Norway and Denmark's characterization; the Nordics have always been a challenge for me!

Oh yes; I'm also interested to se what these little ladies are going to do >D

[Axis Powers Hetalia] Love me for Who I Am (America/England) [4/5]

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