Dance Costumes Catalogs

This fanfiction was written for the writing community Syllables of Time.



Title: Allow me
Author: mattomero
Fandom: Axis Powers Hetalia
Characters / Couple : Germany / North Italy.
Rating: PG
Prompt: 7. Let
Word Count: 401
Warnings: Shounen-ai .
Disclaimer: The characters described here belong author, Hidekazu Himaruya.

Notes:
1. The characters created by Himaruya are merely personifications of the various nations of the world, if it may offend you ... look for another reading. XD
2. Again these characters possess its name "human" but, in the case of Italy (split into two characters by the author, South Italy and North Italy - to emphasize how many centuries for our two "sides" have remained divided ), there is more of a name to which you can refer to. Northern Italy is shown by Himaruya (and soul of Hetalia) as Venice Italy, while his real name is Feliciano Vargas.

Allow me

"I do not think it's time to stop?"

Germany's voice comes softer, beneath the layers of sheets and blankets his bed.
"Not yet," he says, just as muffled grunt.
other side of the barricade soft, Ludwig began to be weary of this hide and capricious.
"It's late," warns him, severe, "You must hurry."
"Let the Right."
German, interdict, is silent for a moment, without really understanding the meaning of that whisper.
"What ...?"
Without warning, Feliciano pulls down the wall of cotton and flannel in pastel colors, with surprise that that effect is unaware of being able to create, and their hands are already touching , could hardly do otherwise.
"In your mind." He whispers sweet that he could die. "Let the Right."

Ludwig not responding - is still trying to decode his words and savor the sound - but happy smiles, and his thoughts about , become confused and rather strange, warm and shy and are reduced to a useless pulp, stumbling and producing a sound Wallop! echoing in a distant corner of his mind.
Suddenly, you'd think that that's one morning with absolutely no sense, as well as the request of Venice, and the beauty is that he can not say or do anything to prevent that, as usual, that silly send him any jelly in the mental faculties remained.
And in fact all that mutters, little decoration, is: "Italy ...?".

For once, no screens and no explanation from pouring out of himself, Germany feels stupid at least double what the other nation may seem, while you observe the fingers - the mirror symmetry of her - and suddenly aware that that hand is so small that its might just swallow it. Italy

But, again perky and cheerful, more than ever, does not allow him to continue with these speculations.
"Two heads are better than a set by myself!" This slogan suggests that, happy as a clam and for no apparent reason.

Or rather, there is a reason - and Ludwig suspected his identity.
Since it is able to understand, in a sense, the simplest words that hide behind the artifact speech that Feliciano has only tried to reach out.
is likely to mean, more or less, something like There'm here, you know? It's about time you knew it. You are not alone, I mean.

Yes .. something.

Read Letters To Penthouse Online

This fanfiction was written for the writing community Syllables of Time.



Title: Work of Art
Author: mattomero
Fandom: Axis Powers Hetalia
Characters / Couple : Germany / North Italy.
Rating: PG
Prompt: 2. Disarm you with a smile
Word Count: 312
Warnings: Shounen-ai .
Disclaimer: The characters described here belong to the author, Hidekazu Himaruya.

Notes:
1. The characters created by Himaruya are merely personifications of the various nations of the world, if it may offend you ... look for another reading. XD
2. Again these characters possess its name "human" but, in the case of Italy (split into two characters by the author, South Italy and North Italy - to emphasize how many centuries for our two "sides" have remained divided ), there is more of a name to which you can refer to. Northern Italy is shown by Himaruya (and soul of Hetalia) as Italy Venetian, while his real name is Feliciano Vargas.

Work of Art

Incredible how the watch face to think of God, Mother Nature or whoever for them because everyone is guilty of the guilt of it is created, it is , managed to create a masterpiece. A triumph of stupidity and stuff "kawaii" as could be said Kiku.
A true work of art, no matter what is said by those unbelievers who do not know.

Here's why.

Feliciano is a complete incompetent, unreliable every point of view, idiot, coward and morbidly attached to his pasta.
short, not fight, can not distinguish a hand grenade from his safe, he can not tie his shoes or to extricate herself out of trouble when he goes to nestle. The only things he does well are: boil water for macaroni, manufacture white flags and cut and run in the decisive moments.
But ... the fact remains that he who prepares the dough is the best.
And no one would ever think of white flags custom .
Not to mention that flight or flight, is still a perfect runner.

But what makes it truly is a masterpiece that. That smile.
It is not the perfect white teeth, or the fullness of the lips, or the harmony of her features, when that expression shape. Is that what
smile has the power to convince him to do anything for him to forget his nonsense and insults directed at his beloved sausage, forced him to restrain himself, whenever he would like to tell him (other ) four; surprises him in the most unlikely, leaving him with his mouth open, defenseless. What More importantly, it makes a sort of gelatinous human paradox - so vulnerable, and at the same time a hundred times stronger.

So, who knows - maybe if Ludwig relents and runs again to save at every opportunity, despite everything, he knows that this masterpiece of a smile is his reward.

Side Effect Of Rephresh

This fanfiction was written for the writing community Syllables of Time.

Title: Costume
Author: mattomero
Fandom: Axis Powers Hetalia
Characters / Couple : Germany / North Italy (implied), South Italy / North Italy (onesided).
Rating: PG13
Prompt: 3. Wear the empty class
Word Count: 222
Warnings: Shounen-ai , set in the postwar period.
Disclaimer: The characters described here belong to the author, Hidekazu Himaruya.

Notes:
1. The characters created by Himaruya are merely personifications of the various nations of the world, if it may offend ... look for another reading. XD
2. Again these characters possess its name "human" but, in the case of Italy (split into two characters by the author, South Italy and North Italy - to emphasize how many centuries for our two "sides" have remained divided ), there is more of a name to which you can refer to. Northern Italy is shown by Himaruya (and soul of Hetalia) as Italy Venetian, while his real name is Feliciano Vargas.
3. The title should be understood as "costume / dress scene - But this is, of course, at the discretion of the reader.

Costume

The smiling face of happiness is like a Sunday suit, worn occasionally and carefully placed in the closet after use. That kind of frill in which one holds to seem more beautiful, happy, confident.

(Sorridi. ..?)

But it is also the outfit that has worked hard to Lovino long time before he could get it, touch it and enjoy it.

(Rehearse?)

Feliciano's smile is a beautiful dress you hide under a veil of plastic to prevent dust from the ruins, one made of fine fabrics and delicate, so fragile that you always fear to crease or tear over nothing - and Lovino struggled too because that smile, already so little real, fade and fade away under his nose.

(I know.)

But there is something wrong.
He pretends not to notice - his brother would open yet another tear in my heart, if she found was not a good actor - but there's something wrong at all.

(I know why you do it.)

The new smile Feliciano know yet.
is tenuous. Immature.

(It's his fault , no?)

see him every day, so forced and fake, it hurts so much.

(It's his fault.)

Lovino And realize not being able to get the pretty dress coveted and desired, but only the pale phantom who wears it.

How Do You Say 'i Do' In Spanish

This fanfiction was written for the writing community Syllables of Time.

Title: Love of War
Author: mattomero
Fandom: Axis Powers Hetalia
Characters / Couple : Germany / North Italy (implied), America, South Italy.
Rating: PG
Prompt: 1. Slow like honey
Word Count: 848
Warnings: Shounen-ai , set in the postwar period.
Disclaimer: The characters described here belong author, Hidekazu Himaruya.

Notes:
1. The characters created by Himaruya are merely personifications of the various nations of the world, if it may offend you ... look for another reading. XD
2. Again these characters possess its name "human" but, in the case of Italy (split into two characters by the author, South Italy and North Italy - to emphasize how many centuries for our two "sides" have remained divided ), there is more of a name to which you can refer to. Northern Italy is shown by Himaruya (and also in the anime of Hetalia) as Venice Italy, while his real name is Feliciano Vargas.
3. The fanfiction is the title track to the # 22 album containing the soundtrack of the animated film Howl's Moving Castle (Howl's Moving Castle ).

Love of War

Alfred Vargas paused in the doorway, breathing in the strange quiet that reigned there.
In fact, should have been in his room to prepare for the luggage - the war is over, finished his task in the boot, it was time to return - but could not really calm down.
feel a sense of disquiet among those walls.
Solitude. Tetra, pervasive loneliness.

*

felt her sighs. The sobbing without tears.
Every single word was a spirit of sadness and resignation.

"This war has left you so destroyed?" He asked.
"It's not that. Is that ... I miss her. "
" Missing? The war? The love so much to miss them? "

Feliciano answered him in one way.

"Yes . But it's not that I'm missing the war. "

and then disappear. Material remains there, but his eyes went out, slowly, as the flame of a candle without wax to be consumed.
He spent his days sitting on the veranda, a prisoner of last summer languor, which they exchanged for lighter vapor clouds, the distant light of a full day and the sunset that slowly slips along the walls and compact, like maple syrup.
In that strange air, suffocating and cloying, Feliciano seemed increasingly like a bug is fixed in a drop of amber. Hoodwinked by his own honey bee. When the evening

dissolve the spell and refreshes the mind, making the resumption time to rush, the young Italian was gone in a dusty ravine any of the big house and decorated with cracks and drafts.

But he could not understand.
is not the war I'm missing.
could not understand. *

In the afternoon, his figure appeared out of nowhere when it was surrounded by the quiet villa.
dark brown hair just touched by the rays of the setting sun. The sad eyes, underneath a bit '- so - angry.

"You know when you leave a person, although you want to stay close? When you are forced to separate because, although it is your whole world, you know you're doing something wrong and can not or will not give you listening? "

Alfred said the boy - like a strange vision, the dream fading a late afternoon, his voice seemed to vibrate for the first time - and nodded.
"Yes, I have this."
Now he understood. Now beginning to understand .

"These endless battles have brought death and despair in many countries, yet kept us close. So, yes, sometimes I even miss the war, the constant threat of terror at the front of the ... the knowledge that they could die at every step. "

And there she saw. From that something different that had seen its angry eyes, the same and yet different from the empty ones she saw every day looking out to the veranda.

"Lovin ...?" stammered, feeling foolish for not having noticed before. "You too, then ...?"

"No, you misunderstood." I interrupted. "My brother, he is that she's ... love. I that does not fail - you will understand, I've never agreed with the alliance. But I see him like this ... and I feel nostalgia for that period, when Feliciano was still himself and damned-eating potatoes had the power to make him smile. As it stands now ... It is as if he were dead. "

Their little world of amber and honey bitter silent, and the wind decided to run away from the leaves of orange trees in the garden.

Alfred expectations; Romano sat down, tired and angry, on the steps of the veranda.

"Do you think angry with me?"
"Why are you that you have them separated? No, I do not think. "He narrowed his eyes, stretching his legs on the steps. "Happiness is not in a position to blame anyone. And he knows, who was in the wrong. "

He took off his glasses, resting his elbows on his knees.

"You say it's just sad, then?" He tried, in spite of everything, did not like being the cause of the sorrow of others.
"Of course it is. Me too. "Lovin cleared his throat, putting his shoulder to one of the pillars of wood. "I would have him."

A slight sigh burst from her lips.

"How do you identify with so much in him?" He asked.
The back of the dark young man stiffened, the U.S. realized that he had touched a sore point, as far as I would have done without.
If nothing else, they said, was a kind of key still hurt him as well.

"Everyone can happen to miss something important." Lovino finally answered.
"Or someone," Alfred would suggest.
The other gave no sign of having heard. He was rather astonished at the contemplation of the last glow bright green foliage in the garden.
forking of new glasses and just sigh, the young man stood up, determined to finish the bag to return home as soon as possible - but his plans had to wait.

"And you? You really are not superficial than it seems? "

Alfred closed his eyes, mind, a green much like the one from which Roman seemed to be so attracted.

"Really . Yes, really ... less than it seems. "

Verde. Something gl'insinuò doubt that he, maybe ...

"Lovin? For if you know someone with green eyes? "
" Eh? "

And the guilty and amazed expression on his face said it all.