For Because-Science

Hey guys! This doesn't have a specific ship in mind but you can call it AmericaxWorld if you want. Warning to all southerners who are reading this, there is no guarantee that I will get the accent right so please bear with me. Enjoy! WARNING: America with a southern accent.
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Accents are rather common among nations. Since they are meant to represent their people, it's only fitting that they sound like them. This involves accent changes which occur when a nation either gets a little too emotional or spends time in a certain part of their land where a certain accent was common.

Like for example when France destroyed England's favorite tea set, the Brit tore him a new one with a deep accent similar to Scotland's. In France's defense, if it was so important then he shouldn't have brought it to the conference in the first place. Anyway, America's accent had never changed. This was mostly due to the fact that he almost never got angry so therefore there was no change in accent.

Almost every nation wasn't aware America's accent could even change. Canada and Mexico were both aware that America's accent could switch between Northern and Southern. Canada accidentally made America mad when he spilt something on his favorite shirt so it just slipped out. Mexico had spent a lot of time with America in the old west so he was also used to the southern accent.

But even though they were brothers, both North American nations had to admit that the accent in itself was pretty sexy. They knew that if everyone else knew then they wouldn't stop bothering America to speak in it. So it was a blessing that America almost never got angry or frustrated. Key word being almost.

It was at a world meeting in Amsterdam where the infamous southern accent was finally revealed. America had been suffering from a really bad migraine because he had stayed up late trying to convince a drunk Prussia and a drunk Denmark to go to bed. America was tempted to knock them both out with his superior strength but decided not to. Germany and Norway would kill him for damaging what little brain cells they had left.

So America had stayed up until four in the morning trying to get his two best friends to go to bed. The meeting started at six and it was a one hour drive from the hotel to the building where the meeting was being held so all and all America only got one hour of sleep. And on top of that world meetings were always so loud no matter who was running it.

Usually America would contribute to the noise but today the noise was bothering him. A lot. Older nations were arguing about who won what wars while the younger nations were either playing on their phones or talking loudly to each other. It made America's pounding head hurt so much. So the only thing America could do was laying his head in his hands and try to block out the sounds around him.

Of course, more than a few nations noticed how the normally energetic American was being rather quiet today. Canada decided to approach his little brother while Mexico watched from his seat with concerned eyes. "Alfie?" America seemed flinch at the noise so close to his ear. The simple name brought about so much pain in his head. Canada, being the keen observer he is, noticed this right away. The Canadian's voice suddenly dropped into a soft whisper.

"Al, are you okay?" The light blonde nation whispered gently causing the American to shake his head though he soon regretted it because it made his head hurt even more. "Did something—" the Canadian's soft voice was cut off by an argument between France and England.

"My cheese is way better than yours, frog! Just accept it already!" England shouted pointing a finger at the Frenchman who scoffed at the Brit. "Nonsense! My cheese is zhe best in zhe world! Your stinky cheese could never compare to my exquisite fromage." France stated loudly nose turned up in a rather snobbish way. The argument went on for a few more minutes as America gripped his head trying to block out said argument.

Why did they have to be so loud? Couldn't they see that he was in pain? It took one last shout from England to finally set America off. America took his hands off his head slamming them against the table before standing up and shouting, "Will all y'all stop screamin' like a god dang bunch of harpies?! Can't any of y'all see I'm havin' the worst headache since forever? So please for the love of god an' everthin' that is holy be quiet!" Everyone was shocked into silence over the sudden change in America's accent.

America seemed to take this as a sign that they listened to him and sat back down before putting his still aching head down in an attempt to cure the full pain still there. It did help that there was no more noise anymore. Unbeknownst to the American however, every nation in the room was staring at him with widened eyes and slacked jaws.

They had never heard America change accents. So that must have been his southern accent. Well one things for sure, it was sexy as hell! Who knew America was hiding such a hot accent from them. By the looks on Canada and Mexico's faces, they could tell that the two brothers of America knew about the accent and had planned to keep it from them.

How rude of them. They must have known how sexy it was and planned to keep it for themselves. The selfish bastards! It would be a crime not to share that accent with the world. And by world I mean the personified world. Canada felt dread flood his system as he caught a glint in some of the nations eyes.

He had always hope this day wouldn't come but now it has and he doesn't know what to do. The Canadian will have to come up with a plan fast because the way most nations are eyeing his American brother worries him. Okay he's more than worried. He's absolutely terrified.
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After that meeting in Amsterdam, many nations tried many different things to try and make America angry since that seemed to be the trigger of that sweet accent. Insults were throw but they didn't affect America before, so why would they now? Punches were also thrown though America either dodge or deflected them.

It was killing them not being able to hear that accent. The sweet honey covered voice that took over America's vocal cords making him into more an angel than he already was. Scratch that he was more like a sex angel. America was already attractive (not many nations will admit this out loud too prideful to appreciate the other's looks.) with silk like golden hair, sky blue eyes that entranced whoever they were later upon, sun kissed skin, and muscles for days. Not to mention his ass which I'd definitely the best among the nations.

The accent only added fuel to the ever growing fire of America's hotness. After many failed attempts at trying make America angry, they realized that America was a pretty chill guy all things considered. That lead to the narrowing of choices that they could do. America angry was a rare sight in itself so it was really difficult to try and make him made. The only times anyone has ever seen him angry are when Japan attacked Pearl harbor or when 9/11 happened.

And since no one was in a mood to start a war over an accent (okay, it's a last resort), they all decided that they would need to rely on more...conventional means. Some tried poking him but that didn't seem to annoy America all that much since he did it himself sometimes. Other methods such as slapping him across the head, stealing his papers, and many others were used but they just didn't crack America's seemingly unbreakable cheerfulness.

That was until France, of all nations, caught sight of something really interesting. The Frenchman had been 'studying' America trying to see if there was anything that the young nation did that could give him clues on how to anger him. America really was a fine specimen if France had to say so. His back muscles worked as he lifted Canada onto his back. France looked his lips as his eyes trailed downward seeing the trim of that hideous bomber jacket at the beginning of America's fabulous ass.

Wait....bomber jacket? The bomber jacket! That horrendous piece of clothing that America had been wearing sine the 1930's. The younger nation seemed very attached to the jacket often hugging it close to himself like it was the last thing of something important to him. It was then an idea slowly began to form in the French nation's perverted head.

America's precious bomber jacket could be the key to making the American mad therefore bringing his sexy accent out. France got up from his seat and slowly made his way across the room dragging along his most trusted allies when it came to stuff that this. Spain and Prussia. Together they made up the Bad Touch Trio so France more than trusted them with this.

France pulled his fellow Europeans out of the room looking around to see if anyone had followed them out. He turned back to the Spaniard and the Prussian when he saw the coast was clear. "What is it, amigo?" Spain asked tilting his head light green eyes full of curiosity. Prussia's held a similar look though he didn't say anything for a change too eager to hear what France waned to talk to them about.

"Calm down, mon amis. For I have a plan to make Amérique speak with zhat delicious accent of his." France gave them both a smirk they were all too familiar and they found themselves mirroring it without hesitation. "Just vhat do jou have in mind, Franny?" Prussia asked while France made them do a huddle. "So glad you asked, mon ami. If you're interested, it goes a little something like zhis..." France leaned in and whispered into their ears the words were inaudible to everyone except for those in the huddle.

"You're a Genius, Francia!" Spain praised smirk never leaving his face. "I know." France threw Spain a cocky look while Prussia rolled his eyes. "Are jou sure zhis vill vork?" Prussia asked gaining a nod from France. "Of course! I thought of it after all. Now here's what we are going to do...." France whisperer more stuff the smirks never leaving the three Europeans faces.
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All three of them decided that they would put their plan into action at the next world meeting which just happened to be in Paris. The plan was to come up behind America and spill piping hot tea onto the back of his bomber jacket. Hopefully that would draw out that southern accent that everyone was so desperate to hear.

Like before every meeting, everyone was just casually chatting with friends and allies catching up after a month away from one another. Everything was in placing Spain had brought the tea in a thermos ensuring that it remained scolding for their plan. The Spaniard handed the thermos of to Prussia who slipped it to France. The Frenchman could feel the heat through the container and smirked. Now all he had to do was sneak up on America.

Doing just that, France slowly crept up behind America before proceeding to pour the hot tea over the unsuspecting nation's head. America gasped when he felt the hot tea be poured onto him flinching as it flowed down his body burning his skin. His clothes were soaked. His suit, his shoes, his bomber jacket—

Wait. America looked down only to see his jacket absorbing the liquid becoming soaked to the bone. America could feel tears come to his eyes at the sight but felt a newer, more powerful emotion come forward. Anger. Lots of anger. America turned around grabbing the nation who had poured the tea on him. America was shocked when he met France's baby blue eyes. How could France do something like this to him?

America slammed France up against a nearby wall eyes darkening as France dropped the now empty thermos. "Now just what do ya' think your doin'?" America asked furiously seemingly unaware of his change in accent. France had never been so turned on and scared at the same time. "N-Nothing, little Amérique." France told the American nervously. "Oh really? Ya' call pourin' hot tea over me nothin'?! Just look whatcha did to my jacket!" America could feel tears pushing against his eyes but once again forced them down.

"I-I..." France couldn't speak. He was too conflicted between feeling scared and suppressing his newly formed hard on. America seemed to have realized he wasn't going to get a straight answer letting the Frenchman go. He then turned away tears finally springing from his eyes. America exited the meeting room in tears leaving behind confused and worried nations.

France slid down the wall trying to calm down his heart beat. The silence lasted for a moment or so when Canada approached the French nation disappointment and suppressed rage clearly showing in his violet eyes. "Do you have any idea what you just did?" The Canadian asked the Frenchman who shook his head. Canada sighed sitting in the ground in front of France. "Do any of you know where America got that jacket from?" Heads were shaken while Mexico remained silent and still knowing what Canada was about to reveal.

"A long time ago back in the 1930's, America met a woman by the name of Amelia Earhart." Gasp were let out but Canada shushed them before continuing. "She was a pilot and damn good one at that. Her and America met at an air show that they were both going to perform in. It was, as some would say, love at first sight. America was head over heels for her and Amelia felt the same." The room was absolutely quiet while Canada spoke.

"They soon became lovers. She was one of the few humans that knew about us and what we are so they had no secrets between each other. They were happy until Amelia developed the ambition to be the first female pilot to fly around the world. America supported her on this, of course. He knew that Amelia put his mind to it that she could accomplish anything." Canada smiled as he remembered meeting Amelia for the first time.

The young pilot had wanted to meeting America's entire family but settled for just meeting his older brother. Canada could proudly say that Amelia was one of the most kindest people he'd ever met. Shaking his head, Canada continued on with the story. "But you all know how it is. Humans grow old and die but that's not what happened here. A day before her trip Amelia gave America that jacket so that she would always be with him even if they weren't together." France couldn't help but feel the romance in the tale Canada was telling.

America must have really loved this Earhart woman, huh? Canada straightened up as he got to his least favorite part of the story. "For those of you who don't know, Amelia Earhart never returned from that trip. They never found her body or any sign of her life. She was declared dead in 1937 leaving America heartbroken. That jacket is the only remnant of his first love so of course he's going to be mad when you get it dirty on purpose." Canada said glaring at France with disappointed eyes that France now felt he deserved.

"I mean I know you wanted to hear his southern accent but did you have to go that far?" France looked down in shame as guilt washed over him. Now he felt like a jerk. A major jerk. "How can I make this right?" France found himself asking. Canada's eyes softened at his show of remorse. "Go apologize to him. Also try to help him get that stain out." Canada told him causing the Frenchman to nod at the Canadian.

France stood up slowly walking towards the door ignoring the hundreds of pairs of eyes following him. He exited the room and immediately heard sobbing. Next to the door was America holding his destroyed jacket tears flowing freely down his face as he held the jacket close to him. France's heart broke at the sight. "Amérique.." France spoke hesitantly flinching when America's eyes suddenly shot up glaring holes into his face.

"What do you want?" America sniffled try and failing to stop himself from crying in front of another nation. France sat in front of America like Canada had done to him a look of remorse and regret casting over his features. "I want to apologize. I should have never tried to destroy something so precious to you." France smiled sadly at the American. The younger nation peered at him with suspicion before his face softened like Canada's had.

"I accept your apology, Francis." Alfred told the Frenchman who beamed at the use of his human name. He lunged forward pulling Alfred into a tight hug which the other blonde nation returned with one hand still holding his jacket in a vice grip. "Merci, Alfred. Now let's get that stain out of your jacket, I have some wonderful detergent at home zhat works wonders with wine stains." Francis pulled Alfred up and towards the door. The smiles never faded from their faces.
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While Alfred's jacket was drying, the blonde asked Francis a question. "Hey Franny." Alfred spoke up causing Francis' head to turn towards him. "Yes, mon ami?" Francis turned his body so that it was facing Alfred's own. "Why did you pour that tea on me?" Alfred asked curiously.

At that, Francis let out a nervous yet perverted chuckle. "Well, I wanted to hear that sexy southern accent of yours." Francis confessed shamelessly. Alfred's cheeks colored a little at that. "T...That old thing? It's embarrassing and doesn't sound sexy at all. Nails on chalkboard is a better way to describe it." Alfred scratched his head looking away sheepishly.

Francis gaped at the oblivious American. How could someone be so unaware of how sexy their voice sounds? Francis didn't think it was possible but Alfred has reached a new level of obliviousness. At that notion, Francis promptly fainted causing the still oblivious nation to panic.
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When America came into the meeting in New York with a clean jacket and a smile, most decided that the accent wasn't worth it. It's sexy and everything but America's happiness just didn't compare to that. They'd rather have a happy America with his normal voice than an angry America and a sexy southern accent.

So it was an unspoken pact that they wouldn't anger America with the purpose of drawing out his accent. But who knows, there's a meeting in Mississippi next month so anything can happen.
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Hey guys! Any thoughts to share?