Another Engmano fic

fluff and feels

I apologize in advance for any translation errors

England sat quietly in his seat, trying to block out the surrounding noise of voices echoing in his ears. Hoping and praying that the meeting would end soon so he could get out of here quickly. That he could escape their cruel words and the feeling of eyes on him, or the endless whispers of gossip in the background. Despite the endless comfort of his magical friends.

A normal ritual of harassment and teasing that he faced every world meeting was taking place. As per, he was being mocked for his very existence, naming all of his flaws in a list. But it was nothing new, he had been forced to deal with this ever since he was born as a nation. Apparently, being born less than wonderful or flashy as the rest of the world made him a laughing stock.

It was either about his personality, his hobbies or appearance. As you can guess this didn't help his confidence or self esteem issues, making him feel worse about himself. Sometimes he wondered if he disappeared that they would feel bad or even stop harassing him. Sometimes it felt like the whole world hated him, this situation only adding fuel to the fire.

"Mon dieu Angleterre, you're a grown up now oui? Yet you haven't changed a bit. Still a pervert in denial, your cooking hasn't improved and your still as stubborn as ever" France sighed heavily. Sometimes he wondered if all of his teaching and influence during their childhood had fallen on empty ears. Back then he had held so much promise, only to become the person he was now.

You'd think after all these years he would have changed, but no he was still the same as he was as a child. If only he would take lessons from him on how to be a gentleman, but he rejected any of his help. He could at least get therapy about that habit of talking to himself, it really wasn't healthy and he would do better from human interaction.

"What about your clothes? You need to start getting with the times instead of those old man clothes. But then old people in my nation cook better than you ever will" America chimed in. Kids in his country loved to go to their grandparents for a slice of homemade apple pie, mouths watering as the Aroma wafted up their noses making them hungry.

He hated and rejected any form of change, only further proving his point. No matter how much he tried to introduce something to England he pushed it away irritably. Showing that he really was an old man despite denial against the accusation. He stood out from all the other nations, stapling his place as the black sheep of Europe.

"You really need to learn how to be awesome like me, the hero!" America gushed proudly. If he learned how to improve himself then maybe people would like him more. Instead of staying exactly the same. Change was good, it was the way of the future and England needed to understand that. Instead of living in the past.

England said nothing, if he opened his mouth he knew that he would be mocked for being such a child. His green eyes glassy and reflective like a mirror because of the tears pooling up. He had only ever let his siblings or France see him cry briefly as a child but they had never teased him because of his age at the time. But if they saw him cry as an adult, they would let rip on him. Even America.

His body trembling like a leaf, his head bowed staring at the floor, so nobody could see his tears. For years he had tolerated this bullshit, centuries of harassment and isolation from everyone else. He had once owned half the world, being the most powerful nation known to man. But now he was just the butt of everyone's jokes. Losing all form of respect from other nations, feeling utterly miserable inside.

Now he felt jealous of Canada, nobody ever said anything about him. If they did America would either beat them up or France would let rip about them picking on his beloved Mattie. Though nobody remembered him, everyone was kind to him and treated him with nothing but kindness. Seeing him as a sweet cinnamon roll despite the fact he was just as rebellious as he had once been.

Meanwhile, Lovino the eldest of the Vargas brothers had been listening to this. Snapping out of his conversation with Spain to overhear the harassment England was receiving from everyone else. Lovino had been dating England for some time, was more than annoyed to hear what they were saying about him. England was far from perfect and he knew that, but neither were they.

Sure, England made mistakes and was known for being moody like himself or quiet. But he was a genuinely kind person, if not somewhat socially awkward especially when it came to his emotions. His heart was always in the right place no matter what he was doing. Even when he did do something bad, it was more like childish pranks nowadays compared to the shit he did as a pirate.

England had moved on from that life, he had learned from his mistakes and grown because of them. He tried to make up for his sins and crimes, but how could he when everyone was constantly judging him. No matter what he did or what he said, people constantly had to give him shit for it because he was different from the rest of them.

Lovino then slammed his hands on the table, the loud echoing sound filling the room. Silence rippling until everyone's voices died and all eyes were pinned to the eldest Vargas brother. His green eyes filled with rage, burning fires dancing in his green orbs. "Sta zitto" he snapped sharply. He wouldn't tolerate this a minute longer, this had been going on for far too long.

Spain looked up at Lovino wearily, thinking about speaking up to calm the older brother cautiously. Ever since he was young, Lovi was known for his temper. But he had always been able to calm him down. Because of comparison to his brother and his Grandfather favouring his brother, Lovino lashed out a lot but had learned to trust people over time.

But before he could speak, Lovino shot him a fierce warning glare. Causing the Spaniard to cower like a small child and look at his paperwork as a distraction. Despite him usually just being sarcastic or moody, but when serious Lovino could be deadly. He may have not been as skilled in art as his brother, but he was no pushover that was for damn sure.

Lovino then pointed at France still glaring fiercely sending a child down the Frenchman's spine "You are-a one to talk French bastard! You are-a perving over everyone like a damn dog in heat. Learn some self-control you pezzo di merda!" he snapped sharply. He was always flirting with every nation he came across that he deemed cute or attractive. He doubted the guy would be happy until he had fucked the entire world.

France pouted tearfully at being insulted, his big blue eyes welling up. Wondering why everyone was being so mean to him despite simply trying to give England advice. Romano was not being cute today, he could not help but share affection as the nation of love. Was it wrong for a man to love passion and sharing love so badly?

He then turned to America, his green eyes burning with an even brighter fury. Sure, he yelled and snapped at Spain, but only because he had never been treated kindly by anyone before. Having been compared to his own brother most of his life. But despite his doubts in the beginning, he later came to trust Spain which had caused their long term friendship.

But America had been found and raised by England, having taken him in and loved him as a brother. "You ungrateful bastardo! Inghilterra raised you as his own! You-are-a one to talk. You eat nothing but junk food! You-a wouldn't know good cuisine if it hit you in the face!" he growled. He wondered why the rest of Europe mocked him, maybe if he learned to eat good food lay off about it.

America pouted sulkily but bowed his head in shame as he reflected on his actions. He had just been joking about is all, friendly banter as England called it. He had never meant to hurt England, he then sat down in his seat sulking about being told off. His expression and appearance mirroring a child who had been caught being bad by their parents.

Lovino then scanned every face in the room fiercely, daring them to speak up. "Anyone else got-a something to say?" he snapped defiantly. He was ready to take on any challenges that someone could throw at him He wasn't taking any of their shit no matter who it was. But nobody spoke up to argue against him.

Content with the silence in the room, Lovino then turned his gaze to Germany. Knowing he was one of the few nations that nobody would go against due to his known temper. "Potato bastard, start the meeting already!" he snapped sharply before sitting back down in his seat. His arms folded and averting his gaze, to which nobody dared to even speak to him.

Meanwhile, England sat in his chair. An expression of utter shock on his face, unable to believe Lovino stood up for him. He was just so used to simply suffering in silence and isolating himself afterwards. He felt so happy, nobody had done something so kind for him before.

Everyone was clearing out of the meeting room, either going to hang out together in groups or going back to relax in hotel rooms. It was the usual ending to every meeting no matter which nation you were in. Most days unless they knew each other well, everyone tended to mind their own business and make small talk if they felt to do so.

As he collected his paperwork and locked up his briefcase, England spotted Lovino nearby. Wanting to show his gratitude for what he had done, he approached his boyfriend shyly. "Um… Lovi I… thanks" he replied shyly. He really couldn't find the words to say, he was just so in awe of what he did. It had been the first time anyone had stood up for him from all the verbal abuse he received.

Lovino frowned, usually he was awkward about public displays of affection. Finding it annoying how other people would get nosy or comment on it. Which was why he tended to be more affectionate behind closed doors due to privacy. But they were the only ones about, so they could have some privacy. Nobody would overhear their conversation.

He then approached England and cupped his face in his hands, looking into those green orbs with a serious look. "Was about time those bastards got their payback" he grumbled. He stroked England's cheek with his thumb as he said this. They picked on England way too much. Sure he enjoyed teasing England too, but in a completely different way.

He gazed upon England, seeing him avert his gaze from the latter. Something he tended to do when he was shy, as to try and change the subject or avoid a situation. His expression intensifying "It is-a my job to tease you, not theirs" he replied firmly but his tone had softened. He would never let anyone make England feel bad about himself, as he knew all to well how much that hurt.

As England's lover, he could make fun of him all he wanted. Such things were allowed in a relationship, it was the staple of any long-lasting relationship. However, anything he said was never intentionally hurtful. Maybe sometimes it was about his embarrassment, or how he could use cooking lessons, but then he tended to do all of the cooking anyway.

England's cheeks heated as red as the tomato's his boyfriend loved to snack on. He then cupped one of the hands caressing his cheek, then leaned forward to place a chaste kiss on his lover's cheek. Standing up for him the way he had, giving the other nations a piece of his mind. It had been such a sweet thing to do for him. Sure, he was used to it, but it didn't mean he liked it.

Though it probably didn't mean much to Lovino, it had meant the world to him. Showing how much he cared about him despite his usual stubborn appearance. Lovino blushed at the gesture, but he could see a small smile forming on England's cheeks. But he was really happy at the reaction. Glad to see England smiling again.

Mon Dieu-My god

Angleterre-England

Oui-Yes

Sta zitto-shut up

Pezzo di merda-Piece of shit

Bastardo-bastard

Inghilterra-England