Chapter One: Why England is Not the Hero.
England waggled his thick eyebrows. "Alright, mates, let's make some magic!...Literally."
America crossed his arms over his bomber jacket, annoyance written all over his face. He didn't like being shown up by people who were dumb enough to call French fries 'chips'. "England, since your magic stuff never seems to work, can we just go back to my plan? I could be the hero!" The American thrust a thumb at his chest to emphasize the point, causing the other three members of the Allies - France, Russia, and China - to roll their eyes. England wasn't even going to waste the energy.
"Yeah, right, like we need anymore of that. Look, America," He turned to face his blue eyed comrade, who was taking a battle stance in case England decided to go crazy. "I've learned by now that there's no point in trying to explain these things to you; magic is just too sophisticated for you to understand." America opened his mouth to protest, but the Brit quickly carried on, "And so here's all you need to know: when my spell is cast, these wankers will be blown out of existence, and we'll all get to live happily ever after. And yes, you will be a hero."
England turned back to face the beach and peer down upon his prey, whilst America thought this over. Below, three men played in the brilliantly sparkling waters of the Mediterranean Sea: Germany, a tall, chiseled blonde haired man, who was the leader of the Axis Powers; Japan, the dark haired and faired skin man pondering who knew what as he sat on the white sands and stared into the distance; and the biggest nuisance of the trio, the young red haired man by the name of Italy, who was diligently building a ten-foot tall sculpture of a dish of what seemed to be eggplant Parmesan, vehing away under the perplexed eye of Germany. England chuckled to himself, Bloody hell, this ought to be easier than defeating the French army.
Speaking of which..."England, can you be anymore of a snail?" France flipped his blonde hair out of his face to properly glare at England. "We've been standing here for absolutely ages watching you check them out. Can you move it along, I've got places to be, Brits to kick..." England stood back up, glaring at his companion briefly before raising his arms above his head and facing the beach. "Only if you'll shut up."
Waving his arms in a magical manner, scrunching his face and raising his eyebrows, England breathed in deeply...
"Our enemies who've driven us crazy,
Prepare for your minds to be hazy!"
The other four countries gathered behind England and stared in shock; the skies seemed to be churning and turning a dark, stormy purple. Below, the Axis Powers looked up as well, confusion creeping onto their faces. Italy, fear slowly taking over his mind, whispered, "Vehh~...?" England continued his chanting:
"It's time for you to say good-bye
As in this world you'll no longer reside
Travel far, don't bother with resistance:
See you in the world of non existence!"
Suddenly the dark skies shook with thunder as a huge lightning bolt shot down onto the beach. Germany tackled his friends to the ground, shielding them with his own body, though Italy hardly seemed to notice as he was too busy screaming, "AHHHHHHHHH, I'M TOO YOUNG TO DIE, NONONONONO..."
But as the bolt struck the ground, a huge light emanated from it, consuming the Axis Powers, and everything else surrounding the beach...Including the Allied countries, who had scarcely enough time to react before they were blinded by the light.
And then everything went black.
America blinked awake. He had a headache of monstrous proportions, but considering what just happened...wait, how was he even still alive?
With a quick gasp, he realized his hero instincts must've turned on, causing him to scoop up all his comrades and run to higher ground! I'm so fantastic! Laughing his signature laugh, he hopped to his feet and took his hero stance. "Once again, gents, I'm the he-rOOOOO!"
America swung his arms out like a helicopter, but for some reason couldn't stand up straight. With an 'eep!' he collapsed back onto his back, huffing indignantly. "...That was completely intentional, my glasses must just be dirty." He pursed his lips and grumbled as he picked up his glasses with his hands an-
America whipped his "hands" up to his face. His jaw dropped. "No. Way." The hero waved his white hooves around in panic. "WHAT HAPPENED TO MY BEAUTIFUL FINGERS?"
So. Hey y'all. First crossover attempt.
And honestly, at one in the morning, I gotta say...this sounds preeeeetty fuckin' good right now.
What'd y'all think?
Oh, and by the way...be prepared for some shipping.
Hard-core crack style.
*grins* Because I'm 20% more awesome (yes I did just smoosh 'em together bitches).
Hope y'all are having a good week. Love y'all!