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Warning:  Crack. Lots of glorious crack!


----------


Another day was over and England couldn't wait to get home. He just wanted to sit down with a cup of tea and a good book. When he finally arrived at his large London house, he unlocked the door, stepped inside with a sigh and locked the door again. As he removed his shoes, he paused and listened.


Something didn't feel right.


There was an ominous feeling in the air. It was strange and England couldn't quite place it. He didn't think anything happened before he left so he couldn't work out what it was. Uneasy with the atmosphere, he decided to walk around the house to investigate.


As he checked the room around the house, he started to realise what this feeling was.


It was the feeling of magic... but not only that. It was the feeling of magic when it went wrong.


England walked into his bedroom and his eyes widened. There sitting on his bed was a young man. His hair was a mint green and from what England could see his eyes were the same colour. He was wearing a white shirt with black pants, but that was not why England was staring. Atop the man's green hair was a pair of rabbit ears.


The young man looked up and when he caught sight of England, his face split into a large grin and he bounded forward and threw his arms around the nation, "Arthur!"


"Bloody hell!" England exclaimed and flinched at the sudden contact, "Explain yourself at once!"


The young man removed himself from England and watched him with wide eyes, "You... you don't recognise me?"


"No, why would I? Who are you and why are you in my house?" England asked fiercely as he glared at the man. The man in question ran a hand through his green hair then beamed again.


"It's me! Flying Mint Bunny!"


"I... what?" England asked dumbfounded.

"I'm Flying Mint Bunny!" the man stated, "See?" he turned around and pointed at the little fluffy green tail he sported and the small green wings on his back, "You turned me into a human! Isn't that great?" he giggled happily, "I can finally spend time with you like a normal human!" he frowned a little, "I'm still bunny-ish though, but that's okay. You don't mind, do you?"


"I..." England ran a hand down his face, "How did I manage that?"


"It was a spell," he stated and sat down again. He patted the space next to him but when he saw that England didn't bother moving, he looked down as though he'd done something wrong, "I'm sorry..."


"Um... look, I'm just shocked, that's all..." England said slowly and eyed the human form of one of his closest magical friends. Flying Mint Bunny watched him then shrugged.


"I can see why... Um... are you going to turn me back?"


"Why do you ask?" England inquired. Bunny stood up and walked the full-size mirror in England's room and admired himself much like France would.


"I rather like this form. I'm sexy!"


"Oh my god..." England facepalmed. He shook his head and looked up at the magical creature and watched him admire himself from every angle possible. This wasn't right. Not right at all!


"No," he said, "I'm changing you back."


Bunny whipped around and looked at England with wide eyes, "Why?"


"Because you're not human... you're... a flying mint bunny," he finished lamely and looked at him with pleading eyes, "Just... don't cause a fuss and let me change you back and then we can forget this ever happened."


Without warning, Bunny leaped forward and hugged England so tight around the waist he could barely breathe. He tucked his head underneath his head and cuddled up to him then said in a cute voice, "But you can't."

"And why not?" England asked as he tried to move away. Bunny shook his head a little then looked up at him with teary eyes.


"Because I love you!"


"What?" England asked, once again bewildered. He tried again to move away but the man... thing before him wouldn't let go.


"I love you, England! You're always so nice to me!" he wailed and continued to cling tighter and tighter, "For ages I've wished that I could finally spend time with you like a normal person and now I can! And now you want to take that away from me?" he sniffled a little, "How could you? I thought you loved me too?"


England's cheeks exploded into a blush and he didn't know how to react. Bunny released him slightly so he could move a little. He looked up at the nation that had talked to him for those many years and leaned in. England knew what was happening, but he didn't know what to do about it. Bunny pressed his lips to England's in a short kiss and when England didn't move, he took that as a signal to continue. He didn't take into account that England was utterly mortified, not to mention confused.


When England finally regained control of his senses, he pushed Bunny away and asked in a shocked tone, "What on earth do you think you're doing?"


"Kissing you?" he said in an innocent voice, "Didn't you like it?"


"No, I..." he paused, seeing the look on Bunny's face. He ran a hand down his face again then decided to do the first thing he thought of. He turned and ran out the room without another word. He had to figure this out and he had to figure it out now.


However, Flying Mint Bunny was not stupid. He frowned and puffed out his cheeks in a pout. He then ran out the room after England, calling out his name and begging him to stop and reconsider.


"Arthur, stop! Please! Please let me talk to you!"


England wasn't listening. Of all the spells to can and have gone wrong... this one gave him the biggest mindfuck he'd ever experienced.  He ran into the living room and he cursed when he realised he was cornered. Bunny stood by the door and he watched the nation with such a calm expression that it almost scared England... more so than he was already.


"Arthur..." he pleaded and came forward, "I love you. I just want to spend time with you!"


"I'm so confused!" England said to himself and held his head. As he wasn't looking Bunny took the opportunity to come forward to hold the nation again. He wrapped his arms around him and pulled England close to him. He held him tight and buried his nose in his hair and inhaled. He loved everything about him and he always had.


England realised what was happening and he shoved Bunny away from him. He tried to escape again but his wrist was caught and he was pulled back.


"Let me go!" England insisted and he tugged. Bunny shook his head.


"No, I want to prove to you that I love you and that I want to spend time with you. Think of it as a thank you for being able to see me when I was still a bunny and talking to me... even though it did make you look crazy..." he said and without another word, he picked up England and threw him over his shoulder.


"Put me down at once!" England yelled loudly but this seemed to encourage Bunny. He shook his head and continued to walk out the room with a small smile.


"No, we're going to have fun!"


And all England could do was succumb to what ever this personified version of Flying Mint Bunny had planned.


And let's just say... he wasn't complaining anymore.
Muahahaha. Crack. Wonderful, glorious crack!

Personified!Flying Mint BunnyxEngland 8D

Bunny looooooves you, Artieeeee~~~~


:heart:

Edit: Wow, why are all my crack!fics more popular than my other stuff? xD You people are nuts! And a lot of people have asked if they can draw this, so I've decided to put it here and say yes but just show me later okay? I'd love to see x'D

Edit 2: GUYS! Check this out! :rofl: [link]
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Once upon a time in a land far, far away from here lived a handsome prince named Antonio. Antonio was prince of the wonderful and beautiful Tomato Kingdom and the prince had a happy life there; the citizens of the kingdom loved him and they knew that he would be a great and powerful ruler.


However, there was just one problem.


When it was time for Antonio to take the throne, he would need a Queen. A King could not rule without his Queen after all.


Antonio had met with many princesses from many far away kingdoms but not one of them was what he was looking for. Time was running out for the prince and Antonio needed to find his future queen right away. The problem was, was that he didn't know where to start looking.


But he would have to start somewhere, right?


And so he did. The prince packed essentials and informed the kingdom that he would not return until he had found a suitable Queen. His family and loyal subjects wished him well and the prince set off on his long and tiring journey.


He visited many distant lands and met many beautiful princesses. Antonio was a firm believer in love and he would not make just anyone his Queen. He needed to love them, and they needed to love him just as much... so the princesses he met now and in the past simply would not do.


It was a tiring and difficult journey for the Tomato Prince, but he wasn't going to give up. Not finding anyone in his own land, he decided to sail the seas in search of a bride elsewhere. He had made a promise to his kingdom and he would not fail them! He wasn't going to give up until he found a Queen that he loved.


And then, after almost a year of searching, Antonio found his Queen. He arrived tired and weary at the Pasta Kingdom and where he was graced with the presence of the two Pasta Princesses. The youngest, Feliciano was adorable, but he was already betrothed to the Wurst Prince Ludwig. However, the oldest princess- Lovino- was yet to be married and as soon as Antonio laid eyes on him he knew he wanted him to be his Queen.


The King of the Pasta Kingdom was welcoming and allowed the Tomato Prince to rest in his kingdom for as long as he needed. Antonio took this as the perfect opportunity to make the Pasta Princess Lovino fall in love with him.


Needless to say, that was easier said than done...


Lovino was rude and violent, often calling Antonio cruel names such as 'asshole' and 'tomato bastard'. He hated the affection Antonio showered upon him but the Prince wasn't one to give up that easily. Lovino was beautiful in his eyes and he wanted him to be his. He wasn't going to let him get away.


The princess refused his offer of engagement, he refused his gifts and didn't return any of the affection the prince gave him. Time and time again, the prince proposed and time and time again, the princess refused. The prince declared his love but the princess would always get flustered and embarrassed. But still the prince kept trying.


Days turned to weeks and weeks turned to months. Eventually, the princess was starting to warm up to the prince. No one had been this determined about him before and even though he would never admit it, the princess was starting to like the happy-go-lucky prince. He started to smile a little more and even though he still called him an idiot or a tomato bastard, he rather liked the affection. Antonio was never the brightest of men but even he could see that his efforts weren't completely wasted. He didn't let Lovino know that though, and he continued to plead for his hand in marriage. Despite him warming up to the prince, the princess was still unsure of whether or not he wanted to marry him.


One day, the Pasta Kingdom was attacked by the evil Eyebrow Wizard, and said wizard captured the princess Lovino and claimed him for his own. Prince Antonio refused to let his cute little Lovino be taken away from him like this so he set off to defeat the wizard.


Antonio's strength was mighty and the wizard found him a worthy opponent. The wizard sent curses and evil spells at him but the prince avoided them. He was determined to save his Lovino and he would do anything he could to achieve that. The wizard was stunned by the sheer determination the prince displayed and Antonio explained that his love for Lovino was what helped him carry on. His love for the princess was so strong that the wizard found he couldn't defeat him. His powers were rendered useless and as he realised that the power of love was stronger than the power of hate, he fled the scene, leaving the princess for the prince to rescue.


Lovino was shocked by the events and he knew then that he wanted Antonio to look after him in the future just in case the Eyebrow Wizard came back. Antonio knelt down to one knee once again and produced a ring from his pocket- a gold ring with tomato carved from precious stones. He asked for the princess's hand in marriage once again and this time, Lovino said yes.


The King of the Pasta Kingdom was grateful to the Tomato Prince for saving his princess so as a means of thanks he agreed to the marriage immediately. Happy, the prince kissed the princess (who protested with bright red cheeks and incoherent sentences) to seal the deal and that very same day, they set off back home to the Tomato Kingdom where they married and became great rulers.


And of course, as all fairy tales end... they lived happily ever after.
Asdfghjkl what did I just write!?

i want to do more of these who do you think should be next?

So leave your interesting and creative responses in the comment section below *shot*
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He was sixteen when he first met him.


Antonio would never forget the moment when he first laid eyes on him. His amber orbs, his dark brown hair, that frown and visible pout that proved to him that he didn't want to be here. But of course, moving to a new area was a little daunting; Antonio knew that from personal experience. He had moved to California from Spain a year before and if he was going to be honest, it took him a while to adjust and get used to the change. It was scary at first, but his two best friends- Gilbert and Francis- helped him through it. He met them at school and ever since they had been inseparable and that first day they had acted like they had known each other for years.


And that was why Antonio was now walking across the street to the house opposite his own with a bright smile. It was always good to have a friend, right? He approached the other brunette and extended his hand, that smile always remaining and he said, "Hola! I'm Antonio! I live across the street. Welcome to the neighbourhood!"


The other male looked at him with a raised eyebrow, as though he were questioning his kindness. Instead of accepting the offered hand, he crossed his arms over his chest with a huff and turned away. "Whatever..."


Antonio blinked and allowed his hand to fall to his side. Well... that was certainly unexpected... but he wasn't going to give up yet! His smile remained bright and the determination in his eyes never once faltered. He moved forward a little, so he could see the other male better and he continued to speak. "So, where are you from?"


The male glanced at him again, as though he were shocked that the Spaniard hadn't left yet. Antonio's smile remained and he continued to wait patiently for the answer.


"Wh-why should I tell you? Bastard!" the slightly smaller brunette demanded and huffed once again, muttering curses under his breath. Antonio blinked again; he hadn't expected the other to be so rude... but he didn't want to give up.


Something told him that he had to be his friend and he wouldn't give up until that was accomplished.


"Because I'm curious!" Antonio said brightly and moved a bit closer, "So are you going to tell me because I don't recognise your accent."


"Fine, asshole, I'm from Italy. Are you happy now?" the brunette snapped and a small blush appeared on his cheeks when he realised how close the other male had gotten. Antonio didn't notice the blush and he nodded with a bright smile. "Si, I'm happy!"


A call came from the house and the Italian brunette looked over his shoulder. He called back in his native language and then turned back to Antonio, "I have to go." Using that as his farewell, he began to walk away.


"Adios!" Antonio replied and decided to take his leave. He paused after a few steps, unsure if his goal was achieved. He looked back and caught the brunette before he entered his house, "Hey! We're now friends, right?"


The Italian paused and glanced back at the Spaniard. Another call sounded from the house, slightly more demanding this time and with a swift shrug, the brunette replied merely, "whatever!" and hurried into the house, slamming the door behind him. Antonio's smile widened and he crossed the street to return to his own home.


Mission accomplished?


He smiled to himself, thinking that he was half way there. He still didn't know his name.


--


He had refused to tell him for three days but he finally found out his name was Lovino. Of course, Lovino wasn't happy about this due to the information was spilled by his younger brother Feliciano and had proceeded to chase him around yelling curses for the next ten minutes.


But yes, his name was Lovino. Lovino Vargas. And Antonio loved it.


--


Getting Lovino to accept his friendship was like trying to get blood out of a stone. The task seemed impossible, no matter how many times Feliciano had told him he would succeed in the end. Antonio had watched the older Italian brother, and saw that he wasn't completely devoid of happiness. He spoke to girls nicely enough, but as soon as a guy entered the scene, he would become nasty and cold and insulting. At first he had decided it was an Italian thing, but then he realised that Feliciano was nice enough to everyone he met. It took a while but Antonio decided that it must just be a Lovino thing.


A thing that refused to leave, apparently.


Antonio had tried his best to be a good friend to the other. He wanted to be there for him if he ever needed him. He found himself wanting to be the person Lovino would turn to if he was ever in trouble or if he ever needed help. He wanted to be the one person he could trust with his secrets and tell him things that no one else knew. He wanted to be that one person he wanted to spend all his time with.


Because to Antonio, that person for him was Lovino.


Antonio wanted to spend all his time with the grumpy Italian. He wanted to tell all his secrets to him. He wanted him to be the person he could turn to whenever he needed help or just a friend to talk to. He wanted Lovino to be all those things.


--


Months passed.


Gilbert had told him to give up a long time ago. Of course, it was obvious that the Italian was tolerating the happy-go-lucky Spaniard a lot more recently, but he was still cold, he was still insulting and he was still mean. He had also developed the habit of calling Antonio a 'stupid tomato bastard' and that nickname had stuck ever since. Gilbert often questioned why Antonio would want to be friends with someone like that. Antonio had merely said he was happy that he had been given a nickname... even if it was rather insulting.


Francis however, shook his head, "Non, love is a complex thing. No matter how difficult it may seem at first, it will always find a way."


Gilbert had laughed.


"That's stupid," he had snorted and turned to look at his French friend, "Why would anyone wanna like that grumpy Italian bastard? He's just an ass."


Gilbert's words were true, but Antonio didn't want to believe that he was right. He wanted to believe that Lovino could be kind and thoughtful like his brother... but he had decided long ago that he liked the Italian just the way he was.


But love? He had never really thought about it. He knew he liked Lovino. He knew he liked Lovino a lot. They spent a lot of their time together and he was fairly certain that by now they were friends... even if the other was slightly (okay, more than slightly) mean to him.


Antonio blocked out Gilbert and Francis' conversation and allowed himself to get lost within his own thoughts. He thought about Lovino; the way he frowned, the way he huffed, the way his cheeks would light up whenever Antonio said something nice to him or complimented him. He had told himself from the start that he didn't want to give up... and he refused to go back on that.


He let himself ponder on Francis' words.


Love? No...


Well... maybe...


--


The summer nights were Antonio's favourite time of year and he wanted nothing more than to spend them with Lovino. After a lot of persuasion the Italian was convinced.


Antonio would make sure that he had a good time, because if Lovino was happy, so was he.


They spent the majority of their time at the beach. Again, it took some persuasion but the Spanish male finally convinced his Italian friend to join him in building sandcastles, searching for crabs in the rock pools and playing on the waters edge. The sun finally began to set and the sky was painted a fiery red. They stood at the shore, both males damp from kicking and splashing water at each other (Antonio knew that Lovino could have fun if he really wanted to). The early evening rays reflected off the waters surface, giving it a mysterious glow. Antonio tore his gaze from the water and looked to the Italian in front of him. He noticed that tiny smile present on Lovino's lips, and he noticed how his cheeks were flushed lightly.


He thought back to Francis' words. Love may not be easy but it will always prevail in the end. Antonio could almost laugh; Lovino had definitely not been easy. He had pushed and shoved away Antonio's attempts of friendship. He had refused his companionship and he had tried to make it clear that he wanted nothing to do with him.


But Antonio was just as stubborn. He kept trying and trying until he had gained his friendship. Until he had gained his trust.


He blinked. Yes, he had gained his trust now, hadn't he? He had acquired his friendship.


But now he wanted more than that. He wanted more with Lovino because he believed that Francis was right. He loved him.


But...


He knew how hard it was just to gain that friendship... and even that felt like it was balancing on the edge. He didn't want to lose that. He didn't want to lose what he already had with Lovino. He couldn't take that risk.



In his mind, he pictured the scene. He would smile and reach forward to take the Italian's hand in his own. He would give it a light squeeze, and when Lovino moved to pull away, he would tighten his grip and shake his head. He would proceed to tell him how he had fallen in love with him over then time they had known each other. He would lean forward and steal a kiss. Then everything would be all right.


In reality, he pushed that thought to the back of his mind. He smiled and reached forward to pat Lovino on the shoulder. The Italian looked up and caught the other's gaze.


"What?"


"It's getting late, we should go?"


"Yeah, I guess..." Lovino stated and shoved his hands in his pockets as he moved to walk down the beach. Antonio smiled and sighed quietly to himself and followed his friend.


Because that's what they were, weren't they?


Just friends.


Maybe one day he might be brave enough to take the risk.
just something to prove to you all that i'm not dead ;A;

some spamano angst. this was going to be a fluffy lovey-dovey one shot but i decided to twist it at the end because... because of reasons.

and i'm sick so bleh.

; n;

:iconimdeadplz:
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He hated it when he left. Of course, he would never show it. That was something Lovino would never do. Antonio would announce he would be leaving for a while and all Lovino would do was huff and shrug.


He'd say he didn't care. He'd say that he wouldn't miss the Spanish nation if he was ever asked if he would. He said that he would be perfectly fine alone during that time. He said that he could cope without him.


And he was... for a day or two at least. Lovino loved the freedom of doing whatever he wanted whenever he was alone. There was no Spain to boss him around. There was no Spain to tell him what he could and could not do, to tell him where he could and could not go. No Spain to tell him he shouldn't eat too many tomatoes or he will be sick, no Spain to tell him when he should go to bed. No Spain to tell him to do his chores. No Spain to tell him to stop being lazy and help out once in a while.


This freedom was something that Lovino enjoyed for a while... but soon the small nation found that life just wasn't the same with out his Boss.


When Lovino was sad, there was no one to hold him close and tell him everything was all right. When Lovino was sick, there was no one to take care of him and make everything better. When Lovino had a nightmare there was no one to chase away his fears and make him happy again. There was no one for him to turn to when he was feeling lonely, there was no one for him to talk to and the small child found himself wanting Antonio to come home more than ever.


He missed him. He missed everything about him. The way he would laugh, the way his eyes would light up whenever Lovino did anything but pout at him, the way he would smile warmly whenever Lovino (blushing, might I add) would rarely ask for a hug whenever he was feeling rather needy.


Lovino had decided that being alone wasn't as fun as he thought.


The weeks passed and Lovino found himself just drifting through the days. He kept himself busy by cleaning, even though it was already clean. He took long walks when Spain had told him not to go very far. He went to bed early just so he could sleep for longer and the time would go quicker. He did whatever he could to make the time go faster and Spain would be home.


Because as much as he didn't want to admit it, he missed him and he wanted him home again.


The house was much too quiet.


Lovino found himself taking walks along the coast, always looking to the horizon hoping that one day he would see Antonio's ship sailing back to him. He'd stand and wait for a while, that little light of hope never really fading, even though he would never admit this out loud.


He would always find himself thinking the same thing.


Come home, Spagna...


The weeks turned to months and Lovino sighed to himself. It was a sunny afternoon, as usual in Spain, and he busied himself with housework. Sweeping cleaning... whatever he could think of, even though the place was spotless anyway. He snorted to himself; Antonio would have a surprise when he came home.


If he came home, that is...


Lovino shook his head as fat tears began to form. He balled his small hands into fists and roughly wiped at his eyes before the tears had a chance to fall. His lip quivered and he sniffled harshly and eventually a small sob let itself escape.


"S-stupid bastard..." he mumbled to himself and he harshly pushed the broom aside and sat down on the cold ground. He wiped at his eyes and sniffled once more.


Footsteps sounded behind him and before Lovino had a chance to react, strong arms wrapped around him in a gentle embrace. A soft chuckle broke through Lovino's muffled whimpers and an accented voice that the small nation had missed so much spoke up, "What's the matter Lovino? Why do you cry?"


He was back. Everything Lovino had wished for these past couple of months had come true. He turned around in Antonio's grip and hugged him as tight as he could. Everything he refused to say, the hug said for him. That he missed him, that he was glad he was okay and that he was happy he was home.

That chuckle sounded again and the arms tightened their grip in response. Lovino inhaled deeply, tears of sadness now tears of happiness. He smelt of gunpowder and smoke but there was still that fresh scent of tomatoes and lingering on his person.


Antonio smiled and scooped the smaller nation into his arms, "Do not cry anymore, my Romano, I'm home..."
first submission of 2012... :iconlazycryplz:

thought i'd try my hand at boss!spain and chibi!romano, since i haven't written about them yet~ poor romano, you miss spain more than you think!

dunno if it's fluff... i guess it is at the end... sad fluff? idek :icononionfailplz:

yeah, anyway, enjoy~

damn i've missed this x3

btw, Spagna means Spain in Italian. ghfhj
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And so we have heard the story of the Tomato Prince Antonio and the Pasta Princess Lovino... but what of the younger princess, Feliciano? Well, dear reader, fear not for that story is about to come.


As usual, this story takes place once upon a time in a land far away. The Pasta Kingdom had been allied with the Wurst Kingdom for quite some time. The Pasta Kingdom would always turn to their friends whenever they found themselves in danger. The Pasta King and the Wurst King knew each other from their childhood so it was fairly obvious why their kingdoms were allied.


But I'm going off the subject again, for this story is about the youngest Princess, Feliciano.


Feliciano Vargas, Princess of the Pasta kingdom was a happy, bubbly young man with a good heart. He was nice to everyone he met though when faced with danger he was always the first to run away. The Pasta King was worried, for he had to decide whether Feliciano or his brother Lovino should take the throne after his passing. Both princesses were cowardly and easily frightened, but Lovino had a very short temper and Feliciano... he was rather spacey. The King decided that neither of his princesses would be suitable of ruling his kingdom.... at least not alone.


And so the match making began.


He attempted to set his princesses up with many princes. Said princes travelled far and wide but neither of his princesses liked them. Lovino didn't pay them any attention and would curse and snap coldly whenever someone tried to make conversation with him and Feliciano just politely declined their advances. The Pasta King was weary, but he had to find his princesses a suitor, for the good of the kingdom.


Then he was thrown a life-line. He received a letter from the Wurst King stating that his princes were yet to be married and perhaps there would be a chance that one of them would find one of the Pasta Princesses a good suitor. The Pasta King was relieved and replied to the Wurst King immediately for him to send his princes to the kingdom and then fate should decide.


And little over a week later, the princes arrived. The oldest was Gilbert; he was a handsome young man with silvery hair and ruby red eyes. He wore an obnoxious smirk and stated he was the 'most awesome of them all' and that he should succeed in wooing one of the Princesses. The youngest Prince was not as loud as his brother. He was tall and broad with baby blue eyes and slicked back blond hair.


As soon as he laid eyes on the two Princes, Lovino decided that he wanted absolutely nothing to do with them. He called them both 'potato bastards' and stormed away. The King knew that there was no changing the older Princess's mind so the only thing left to do was see which one of the Princes Feliciano preferred. He could see that the two Princes were already besotted with him, though Gilbert was more obvious about this than his brother.


The King smiled to himself; he would just have to wait and see what happens.


Over the next couple of days, Feliciano was showered with affection from the oldest brother Gilbert. He claimed to be the awesome Prince who could save Feliciano from anything and that the Princess would make an awesome Queen for him when he became King. Feliciano was flattered by the affection he was receiving but the albino Prince was not who he wanted.


Whenever the youngest brother Ludwig spoke to him, Feliciano found that his cheeks turned pink and his heart beat would increase. His palms would become sweaty from the nervousness and he found it difficult to not say something completely ridiculous (but then again, when did he not have that problem?). Gilbert continued to fight for the younger Princess's affection but he soon came to realise that his heart belonged to his brother. Gilbert tried his luck with the oldest Princess and needless to say he left with a bloody nose and a black eye.


As time went by, Feliciano and Ludwig became closer and closer until the Princess realised that he may have fallen in love with the Prince. It was easy to see why; Ludwig was beautiful in every single way imaginable. Feliciano found that beneath his gruff exterior there was a kind and gentle man just waiting to be discovered and the young Princess soon came to realise that this softer side of the Prince was only revealed around him. They began to know each other better; Feliciano picked up on the small things such as the tiny smiles Ludwig displayed when they were alone, or when they were walking their hands would touch momentarily.


Feliciano had fallen, and he had fallen hard.


Needless to say, the same could be said about the Prince. He confided in his brother- he told him the moment he laid eyes on Feliciano he knew that he wanted to marry him. Of course, Gilbert was disappointed that he had lost out to his brother but he was happy for him all the same.


Ludwig had decided what he was going to do and he would do it that night. But... it was not to be.


That night, the Pasta Kingdom was attacked by the evil Eyebrow Wizard. The wizard was cunning and devious and it was his goal to take over the kingdom. And every single time he tried, one of the Princesses would find themselves in danger. Lovino had already escaped the evil wizard but Feliciano was yet to run. The Eyebrow Wizard had him cornered and he stated that once he had taken the Princess, he could use him to rule the Kingdom. Feliciano was utterly useless at fighting so he tried to run and escape but he failed. The wizard cackled and Feliciano closed his eyes as the wizard reached out for him. Fearing this was the end, Feliciano cowered in fear but the wizard never attacked. Instead, he was greeted with a rather unmanly yelp of pain and the princess opened his eyes to see the wizard land hard on the ground. Feliciano looked over at his saviour and smiled brightly.


The Pasta King was grateful towards Ludwig for saving his Princess. He told the youngest prince that he could have whatever he wanted as thanks. Ludwig knew what he wanted; he knelt down on one knee and asked for Feliciano's hand in marriage. Of course the Princess said yes and the Pasta King gave his blessing immediately.


And like most fairytales you can be sure that this one ended happily ever after.
kiriban prize for :iconsalem180: : D

i was very glad to receive this request!! i was thinking about a sequel for The Tomato Prince and this was the perfect reason to do one!! :iconfinallyplz: actually, this is more of a prequel xD anyway, it's GerIta this timeee * 7* these two are so cuteee!

also this request was the perfect excuse to do some crack!! Q 7Qb

and look!! it's the return of the evil Eyebrow Wizard! :iconiggybrowsplz:
tsk tsk tsk~ :3

Hey, should iggybrows get his own storyyy?? since he /is/ the villain here~ >:3 let me knowww!

anyway, enjoy the crack! :iconhappyhappyplz:

EDIT

here's the first one: Crack Fairytales - The Tomato Prince Once upon a time in a land far, far away from here lived a handsome prince named Antonio. Antonio was prince of the wonderful and beautiful Tomato Kingdom and the prince had a happy life there; the citizens of the kingdom loved him and they knew that he would be a great and powerful ruler.


However, there was just one problem.


When it was time for Antonio to take the throne, he would need a Queen. A King could not rule without his Queen after all.


Antonio had met with many princesses from many far away kingdoms but not one of them was what he was looking for. Time was running out for the prince and Antonio needed to find his fu
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Warnings: FrUK and some suggestive themes~


--



"You are an absolute moron..." he said between their kisses. A smirk and a shrug was all he received in return before his partner leaned in once again and closed the gap between them.


"You love it. I know you do..."


"Only you would think th-this..."


The blond went ignored as the other male began to suck and nip at the soft spot of his neck. England tightened his grip around the Frenchman's neck and closed his eyes. He would never admit it, but it really did feel so good. He couldn't explain it... and why he had been denying this for years, he would never know...


He felt Francis smile against his neck as he worked on the large hickey he was creating; leaving his mark, showing the world that the irritated English nation before him belonged to him and him alone. Proving to that idiot American that the Englishman before him was not available.


"Ah... Francis..." England said lowly, tilting his head to allow the Frenchman better access. His eyes remained half closed and his cheeks were dusted with a red blush. His hands clutched the fabric of Francis' clothes and he didn't know how much longer he would be able to last without pouncing on the other nation and demanding that he took him there and then.


"I-I hate you so much for this..."


Of course he did; that was why he was trying not to ravish the other nation right there.


The hickey was finished and Francis kissed up his neck, "Oui, I totally believe you," he replied, his tone obviously laced with sarcasm. He chuckled and claimed his lips once more. England responded immediately, opening his mouth into the kiss and deepening it. Their tongues worked together and Francis let a small noise escape from the back of his throat. He moved forward slightly, pushing the other nation against the table in the meeting room and he smirked into the kiss, many inappropriate thoughts running through his mind.


England's hands removed themselves Francis' shirt and tangled themselves in his soft blond hair. Francis' own hands rested firmly on the Englishman's hips and kept him as close as he could. To England, the other nation tasted sweet; like he had eaten some form of candy before he had began the heated make out session in the meeting room. To Francis, England tasted like tea but that wasn't unusual. The scent of burnt scones and flowers lingered on his person in contrast to himself as he wore some expensive cologne.


The two parted for air and England caught his breath lightly and looked into the Frenchman's eyes. Of course, this wasn't the type of behaviour anyone would expect from the British man, but Francis seemed to make him want to do things that were not in his character- such as making out in the middle of the meeting room- a meeting room that would hold a meeting in an hour.


"I don't approve of this..." he said lowly.


"Of course you would say that, mon cher, but your actions tell me otherwise," Francis replied smugly, and he laughed that strange laugh of his before leaning in to capture the Englishman's lips in yet another kiss. England let a small groan escape from the back of his throat and he pushed himself up closer against the other male, his hands tightening their grip in his hair.


Francis smirked once again and he slowly moved his hands away from Arthur's hips. He played with the buckle of his belt before unclasping it. He noticed the blush on England's cheeks deepen as he unbuttoned and unzipped his pants.


"F-Francis... are you...?" England asked as be broke the kiss. The Frenchman smirked and played with the waistband of England's boxers almost teasingly.


"Do you want me to, mon cher?"


"I-it is highly inappropriate... stupid frog..."


He ignored the insult and smirked, "But of course. And it is also exciting, non?"


"Exciting?"


"Oui," Francis smiled and continued to play with the waistband of Arthur's boxers. He leaned in and whispered huskily in his ear. "I think we could do with some excitement, non?"


"B-but here...?" Arthur asked, glancing around the meeting room. Of course they were alone but they wouldn't be for long. Other nations would be arriving soon and Arthur didn't know if he could sit through the meeting knowing what they had done just an hour before. Francis, though, didn't seem to care, as he continued to be teasing and he chuckled lightly. Arthur felt shivers run down his spine and the more Francis teased him, the more he wanted it.



"We could do it in Amérique's spot. That would make you feel better, non?"


England actually smirked at the thought. Oh yes, it would make him feel much better. Much better indeed.


"Of course it would..." he replied and glanced at the blue-eyed man in front of him. "Well... what are you waiting for? Get on with it."


"As you wish, Angleterre," Francis replied and pulled England to America's spot at the meeting table.


This would be fun.
oh my! what is this?! FrUK?! :iconlegaspplz:

honhonhon~

my my, it has been a while! since my brain has been consumed with manself stuff and spamano, it's been nice to have a break from it all. and to be honest, i was kinda in the mood to write some suggestive porn |D

i kinda wanna continue this to the actual porn |D

but yeah, i still love FrUK and i dont care what you all think! :iconhappyhappyplz:

the thought of them doing in in America's spot amuses me greatly |D

anyway, enjoy! :iconfrancerapefaceplz:
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Arthur Kirkland moved away from London in escape to a quiet life. He'd moved to a small town on the coast in order to escape the hustle and bustle of the city. Arthur had not only chosen this place because it was quiet, but because it was where his family used to holiday when he was younger. He'd always wanted to live in a place like this and now, when he finally had enough money, he could.


Three years later, Arthur was happy. He had a good job, a nice house and everything he could have asked for.


He also had a boyfriend which came in the form of his own American hero, Alfred Jones.


Like himself, Alfred had moved to England to get away from the loud city. Coming from New York and moving to a small coastal town had been a huge change for him but when the two met a cafe during Alfred's first couple of days (Arthur had already been there a year), the Brit was more than willing to show him around.


And now, the two of them lived and shared a happy life together.


It was a Saturday morning and Alfred had sneakily switched off Arthur's alarm the night before. The British man had a routine of waking up at seven sharp and getting on with housework. Alfred hated that he couldn't spend a morning in bed with the love of his life and for once, he thought Arthur deserved to stay in bed a little longer.  At 10am, Arthur finally awakened and as he sat up, he squinted through the sleepy haze that was clogging his vision and he glanced at his clock. Seeing the time, his eyes widened and he roughly shoved Alfred's shoulder, only to receive a groan in response.


"Alfred! Wake up this instant!"


"Wha?" he asked sleepily and rolled on to his back. He slowly raised a hand and sloppily wiped at his eyes and he blinked somewhat in order to become more coherent, "What time is it?"


"Ten in the morning! Do you know what that means?" Arthur seethed.


"Yeah..." Alfred gave him a sleepy grin, "It means you got to sleep in. Doesn't it feel great?"


"No, it bloody doesn't! Now my whole day is ruined!"


"Chill, Artie..." Alfred shrugged and rolled on to his side again. His arm moved around Arthur's waist and pulled him close to his chest. He nudged Arthur's cheek with his nose lovingly and placed a small kiss there seconds later, "Chill..."


"No I will not. You did this!" Arthur tried to wiggle free but Alfred's grip around him was strong as usual. Alfred just smiled that sleepy smile and Arthur finally realised he wasn't getting anywhere by wiggling so he finally lay still. Alfred continued to smile a little and as he released his grip around him slightly he gently traced patterns on Arthur's side. His thumb rubbed small circles and he instantly felt Arthur relax.


"It's not so bad, is it?" Alfred asked and eventually Arthur adjusted his position but allowed Alfred to continue what he was doing.


"I suppose not... but just this once," he insisted, "I mean it. You know how I like to get things done seeing as we both work in the week..."


"Yeah, I know, but you're always up early and you deserve to sleep in now and then," Alfred said and he closed his eyes again. 10am was still too early for him. When he learnt that Arthur woke up at seven sharp every weekend, he almost had heart failure.


"You're not mad at me, right?" Alfred asked after a few moments of silence. He looked at Arthur with those bright blue eyes and that small pout that the Brit still hadn't grown immune to. Arthur glanced over at him with a defeated look. How could he when the American looked so damn adorable?


"No, not this time..." he eventually answered as he sighed. Alfred grinned at him and as he was slightly more awake, he moved a little to press his lips against Arthur's cheek. Arthur could hear Alfred laugh from the back of his throat as his lips remained on his cheek longer and longer. Eventually Arthur had to smile and ask, "Are you stopping?"


After a few more seconds, Alfred moved his lips away from his cheek and directed them to his neck instead. He found Arthur's weak spot immediately and sucked and nipped at it gently. He grip tightened around his waist again and Arthur let out small gasps of approval. Alfred finally moved away when he was happy with the hickey he'd left and he smirked mischievously at Arthur, who just shook his head with a small fond smile of his own.


"Someone's affectionate this morning," he commented softly. He would never admit this out loud but half of him was glad that he could stay in bed late and cuddle with Alfred. He knew the American was very affectionate from the moment he met him. Alfred loved hugs and when the two started dating, he would always shower Arthur with little kisses and cuddles and he would always make him feel special. Arthur hadn't been particularly comfortable with the hugs at first but he knew Alfred wasn't going to give up. Eventually he got used to them and now he thought that they were the nicest hugs in the world. Not that he'd ever tell him that. That would increase his already oversized ego tenfold.


"You know I always am," Alfred replied sweetly. He hid his face in his neck and Arthur could hear him giggle slightly. Arthur knew that Alfred was happy that he'd actually stayed in bed with him. He managed to adjust himself again and move his arm around the American. He gently stroked the sunny blond locks his boyfriend sported and he couldn't ignore the warm feeling he felt in the pit of his stomach. He couldn't help but smile a little.


He often told himself that moving out here was the best thing he'd ever done. He didn't think anything could go wrong.


Life was perfect.


-------


It was an hour later when Arthur finally decided they'd stayed in bed long enough. Albeit he had to pull the covers off Alfred and half drag him out of bed by his ankles as he refused to get up but they were eventually dressed and ready for the day ahead.


Arthur was still a little sour that in his opinion half the day had been wasted and when he was showered and dressed, he didn't hesitate to gather his cleaning supplies and get ready for scrubbing the kitchen.


It was Alfred that stopped him with that sweet smile and insisted he spend the day with him.


"You never have fun, Artie!" Alfred said, "You work all week then clean all weekend."


"That's because I never have time to do it."


"But please, just for today... spend some time with me. We can act couple-y!"


"That is not a word, Alfred, but very well..." Arthur sighed and ran a hand through his hair. Reluctantly he put his supplies away and looked at Alfred who was nearly bouncing with excitement, "Where are we going?"


"Let's go to the beach!" he said happily, "I know you like to walk there!"


Arthur knew the weather wasn't great but he did like to walk on the beach. It was a nice place to go and think and it was refreshing. Arthur had always loved the sea.


"Oh all right..." Arthur stated and ducking away from Alfred before he could kiss him, he went to get a jacket. Alfred pouted but went to get his own bomber jacket and put his shoes on then he waited for Arthur to finish fussing (and by fussing, he watched him see to their two cats, make sure everything was all right and all the usual things that Arthur fussed about). When he was finally ready to leave, Arthur led him out the house and Alfred immediately held his hand.


Arthur wasn't comfortable with public displays of affection so when the two started dating, he wouldn't hold Alfred's hand in public. The American didn't know why; was he worried about what people will think? Was he shy? He didn't know and when he tried asking, Arthur shrugged him off or changed the subject. However after a few weeks, Arthur finally got used to it and now he let him, but he still wouldn't let him kiss him when there were a fair amount of people around.


Alfred eventually came to the conclusion that he was a little shy but he didn't mind. He respected Arthur's decision.


Arthur blushed slightly but allowed him to hold his hand as they walked down the street to coast. The sea was within walking distance from their house and that was why they decided to locate there. The views were lovely too and that was always an added bonus.


When the two arrived, there were a few people walking their dogs but apart from that the place was deserted. Alfred hummed some American patriotic song under his breath as he walked along the sand with Arthur. The Englishman listened to him and he decided to tease him by humming a patriotic song from his own country, slightly louder than Alfred.


The American realised this and he stopped humming to pout at his boyfriend. Arthur ceased his humming too and smiled at him innocently.


That smile... Alfred was unable to stay angry and he threw his arms around the smaller man beside him and peppered his cheeks with kisses.


"So cute!" he sang happily and moved to kiss his cheeks again. Arthur half-heartedly pushed against him and tried to stop him.


"Stop that!" he protested weakly but they both knew Alfred was stronger than him. He was like a massive child and once he latched on to him it took a while before he would let go. Alfred just laughed that infectious laugh of his and wrapped a possessive arm around Arthur's waist.


"Mine," he said with a smile. Arthur blushed a million shades of red as he was pulled close to Alfred's side. That strong arm remained around his waist for the majority of that walk down the beach.


Alfred spoke of home a few times. They were planning to spend a few weeks in New York with Alfred's family. Arthur had met Alfred's parents a few times and they were smitten with him. When Alfred went to London to meet Arthur's mother (his father left the family when Arthur was thirteen), she was happy that her son had finally found someone to give his love too.


Alfred finally removed his arm around Arthur waist and he captured his hand instead. He swung their hand between them with a beaming smile which made Arthur smile too. He'd been smiling a lot more since he'd gotten together with Alfred- that was another reason why Arthur's mother loved the American so much.


"So I was thinking..." Alfred said, deciding to break the comfortable silence. Arthur looked over at him with a curious expression.


"What is it?" he asked. Alfred looked to the sky as though he were contemplating something. He bit his lip as he remained silent and when Arthur opened his mouth to ask if everything was all right, Alfred spoke again.


"We've been dating for a very long time," he said and glanced at his boyfriend.


"What are you saying?" Arthur asked. Alfred paused and his cheeks turned pink. He opened his mouth to say what he wanted to say but it didn't come out.


"That's a long time, huh?"


Arthur narrowed his eyes, "That wasn't what you were going to say, was it?"


"Yeah it was!" Alfred insisted, his cheeks burning a deeper shade of pink, "And I was wondering if we should... uh, celebrate?"


"Alfred, our anniversary was a month ago. We celebrated then," Arthur stated with raised eyebrows, "Now will you stop spouting nonsense and tell me what you really wanted to say."


"No, that was what I wanted to say!" Alfred said quickly. He was afraid he'd ruined their day so he squeezed Arthur's hand comfortingly and smiled, "I just want to take you out some place nice."


"You always do that," Arthur sighed, "We went out just last week. We should really start saving our money if you want to go back to New York."


"I guess. It was just a suggestion," the American sighed, disheartened. Arthur's eyes softened.


"I know, love. And it was nice of you to do so. But, you want to see your parents, correct?"


"Yeah..."


"Then we should be wise, because if you keep splashing out you're never going to afford those flights."


"You're right," Alfred smiled and raised their hands so he could kiss the back of Arthur's, "As usual."


"I know love."


-------


The couple had spent their day at the beach and in the town, Alfred not really getting what Arthur meant by being wise with his money. They went to an arcade after the beach and Alfred had spent most of his change on the claw machine, determined to win Arthur a plush toy. Arthur had blushed and insisted he didn't need one. Alfred, as usual, refused.


Alfred had his sights set on that blue unicorn and by God was he going to win it!


When he finally won it, Arthur blushed and thanked him anyway. Arthur's unicorn obsession was not one he brought out in public but Alfred had looked so determined that he couldn't do anything else but blush like a school girl. He held Alfred's hand on one of his and the unicorn in the other as the American led him around the arcade. When it started to get dark, they headed home.


When they arrived back, Arthur fed the cats and before he had chance to cook, Alfred kicked him out the kitchen and told him to relax.


"You deserve it, after all," he said, "I'll make us something awesome then we can watch a movie or something."


"You've not let me do a thing all day," he said but Alfred shook his head quickly.


"No! Go relax, I'll handle this!" he stated. When Arthur finally turned away to sit on the couch, the American sighed in relief and went to see what they had. There was no way he was going to suffer food poisoning like he did when they first started dating.


Worst week ever!


When they finished dinner and watched a movie, Arthur was exhausted from the day's events and went to bed. Alfred, not wanting to be lonely, followed him and they both got comfortable.


As soon as Alfred got the chance, he leaned in and captured Arthur's lips in a sweet kiss and moved a hand to the back of his head to keep him there. Surprised, Arthur froze for a moment but he soon responded and he moved his head slightly for better access. Alfred smiled into the kiss and when he was convinced Arthur wasn't going to pull away, he released his grip slightly from Arthur's head and stroked his hair instead. He then moved his other arm around Arthur's waist as Arthur moved himself a little closer. The sweet kiss soon turned passionate as Arthur managed to slip his tongue into Alfred's mouth when he least expected it. He smirked a little when he saw sapphire blue eyes widen at the action but nothing was done to stop it. Alfred rubbed his tongue against Arthur's and the gesture earned him a small little moan from Arthur. Upon hearing that little moan, Alfred was loosing more and more of his self control. He just wanted to take Arthur here and now. When they two needed air, Arthur moved his head when Alfred started to kiss his neck again like he did that morning. He decided to suck and nip at his skin once more and Arthur sported yet another hickey.


"My boss won't be impressed," he commented and Alfred merely shrugged as he started to undress him.


"Screw your boss," he stated simply and as soon as their clothes were strewn around the room, he leaned in for another kiss.


-------


Arthur woke up Sunday morning at 7am sharp aching and sore from events of the previous night. He smiled a little and without disturbing Alfred, he climbed out of bed and quickly took a shower. When he was dressed, he quickly tidied up downstairs before leaving for get some groceries. He left a note for Alfred to read when he woke up.


As he pushed the cart down the isle, he couldn't help but think about how perfect his life was with Alfred. He'd often wonder what his life would be like if he'd have stayed in London. Miserable, no doubt, he'd decided as he walked to the check out. As he packed away the groceries and walked to the car, the thought of Alfred and everything about him made that warm feeling return. He drove to continue his errands with the thought that he knew he was in love and he knew that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with the American. With Alfred at his side, he knew he could take on anything. With his hero at his side, he knew he could overcome everything.


If life was so perfect, why was it, when he arrived home a few hours later, that he felt his heart shatter when he saw his hero kissing someone else?
Oh no, what do we have here? What's Alfred up to? Who's he cheating on Arthur with? What will Arthur do? Will he forgive him?

All the answers will be given... next week >D

Because I'm on holiday from tomorrow and I won't be back for a week >3

This is a three part story I decided to do because I wanted to write something a little different.

So yeah...

-throws story at you-

Next: [link]
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Warning: Cardverse!AU featuring crazy!England


~


They used to be so happy.


It was a year ago today when it happened. Arthur remembered it clearly. He remembered how much it had hurt; he remembered how his heart felt as though it were physically being ripped in half when his husband uttered the words to him. He thought the pain he felt within those three seconds may very well kill him. Even the fires of Hell would not hurt as much as this. It was those four words which caused Arthur to do what he did.


Those four words changed everything.


I don't love you.


Arthur remembered how he had begged. He had promised he would change, he would promise to be a better husband; he had promised to be a better Queen to the King. But Alfred had shaken his head. He had said no. He wouldn't allow it. He had made his decision and he would never back down on it.


Arthur had cried like he had never cried before. How could this be happening? This couldn't be happening, not to him. Alfred loved him. He knew he did. He was just blinded. Yes, that was it. He was blinded and he couldn't see. He couldn't see that he loved him and the words he uttered were not at all true.


And then he was angry. Oh, he was so very angry. How dare his Alfred say this to him! Alfred was nothing without him! Nothing! This Kingdom could not work without a King and a Queen, together... ruling side by side, happy and harmonious. Arthur would not allow Alfred to walk away from him. He would not allow him to walk away from what they had and what they could have in the future. They were a team; they ruled the Kingdom together.


He would never allow him to leave.


Then Arthur had uttered the words... words that Alfred could not understand. The words were of a foreign tongue, words of ancient origin. Arthur was enraged when he uttered them. Arthur was angry.


Arthur would not loose his husband; he would not loose the love of his life. He would not loose his King- his brave, heroic, loyal King. No, he would not allow that to happen.


The spell was cast.


Arthur changed how he felt. Arthur changed his emotions. Arthur changed his memories. He looked down at the unconscious body of his lover and he laughed. He laughed hard until tears formed in his emerald eyes. He cradled Alfred in his arms, gently rocking back and forth. His eyes never left his face; he never stopped looking at his beautiful love. It was done; he would never leave him. Arthur had made sure of that.


He would never be betrayed again.


When Alfred awoke a few hours later, he looked at his Queen with such adoration and love in his eyes, Arthur knew that he would never leave now.


"What happened?" Alfred had said, "I remember talking to you and then... nothing..."


"Do not worry yourself, love," Arthur had said soothingly, adopting a calm facade. "You just took a nasty fall, that's all. You may have bumped your head a little too hard, but it's all right, sweetheart. I'm right here." It was a stupid excuse, an excuse that no one should believe but Alfred.


"Oh, okay... good," Alfred had accepted what Arthur had told him, and why shouldn't he? He was his now, wasn't he? Arthur knew that Alfred would never try to leave him again. Arthur had smiled. He never wanted to experience that kind of pain again. He never wanted to feel as though his heart was being torn into a thousand little pieces.


Arthur was a changed man after that; he grew paranoid and he kept Alfred in his sight at all times. Some of the servants found it a little odd, but no one knew what happened that night. Even Alfred didn't know. Arthur alone bore the memories of the night Alfred tried to leave him and only Arthur would live with what he had done. Alfred was never allowed to stray too far from his Queen. Arthur's spell wouldn't let him, but the King was oblivious to this.


And now, a year on, Arthur watched the sleeping face of his husband. He looked angelic when he slept, Arthur wouldn't deny that. His hand gently stroked the golden locks of his husband's hair, over and over it went in a soothing motion; the same motion that had lulled his King to sleep. The Queen's emerald eyes never left the man's face.


He smiled ever so slightly, "You will never leave me again."


He leaned down, placing a kiss on his King's tanned skin.


"You will never hurt me again."


He moved his hand to gently caress his husband's cheek.


"You are mine. Forever."
So I was looking through my documents and I found this. And then I remembered how much I love crazy!England and the cardverse!AU xD So I tweaked this a little (it still sucks) and decided since I haven't published USUK for a while, this couldn't hurt.

So basically... Alfred announced that he was going to leave Arthur and Arthur didn't like it, so he cast a spell on Alfred to keep him under his control 8D

Are Revolutionary ideas, present? Pffft

But yeah... I'll just go back into my hole and continue being a creeper... :B
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FrancexReader

--

You saw the way he looked at you, and to be honest you didn't know if you should be flattered or horrified. Francis always seemed to shoot you looks across the meeting table- winks, smirks, he'd kiss his hand and 'blow' the kiss towards you and he'd even make 'kissy faces' at you when he knew you were looking.


To be honest, the attention was great and all, but you knew of the French nation's reputation and you didn't really want to be another name on his long list of people he'd slept with.


You had more pride than that, therefore you weren't going to let him win.


Or at least... you were trying.


"Ma cherie, accept this rose as a token of my affections!" Francis smiled, holding the rose towards you. You looked at the rose with a flat expression before replying, "No thanks, I don't know where it's been..."


You were painfully aware of where roses seemed to be located on Francis' body...


The Frenchman's eyes widened, then he grasped the area near his heart and gasped, "Oh, you wound me! You will not accept this simple rose? How cruel of you."


"Cut it out, Francis..." You sighed, running a hand through your hair. Seriously, this man was just way too dramatic for his own good. He really needed an award for it or something.


"How can I 'cut it out' when my darling refuses to accept my love?" he asked, closing his eyes and turning away from you, still being dramatic.


"Oh please..."


"That is fine, ma cher! I know when I am not wanted," Francis sighed and with a sad huff, he walked away from you. He stopped at the door, turned to glance at you again with a pout. You raised an eyebrow and at the motion, the French nation turned away dramatically and stalked away, saying something about his heart had been shattered into a thousand tiny pieces, completely irreparable. You shook your head with an amused smile and gathered up your paperwork and decided that these people were just too much to handle.


How you managed to cope with them on a daily basis was beyond you.


--


Of course, that wasn't the last time you would hear from Francis. Ignoring the fact that you saw him most of the time for the meetings, he seemed to being hanging around you during his free time too. Now don't misunderstand, the guy was lovely, he really was. Sure he was perverted and sometimes too dramatic for his own good but he was actually a nice guy. You did admit to yourself that you liked abusing England with him, just because it was fun and their fights amused you to no end.


Francis' advances continued, even though you had rejected him a million times before. You couldn't help but wonder if he was actually interested or if he just wanted someone to fuck for the night, then drop you completely. Of course, you did think that Francis was attractive but you knew that he knew he was too.


The advances started again when the two of you were taking a walk in the park. At first it was nothing more than smile or a wink, but then he attempted to wrap an arm around your waist, or hold your hand. He would tell you that you looked beautiful in the early evening sun and what confused you the most was that he looked serious and sincere- like he actually meant it.


"Okay Francis, what the hell is your problem?" You asked and stopped in your tracks after he had attempted to hold your hand for the third time. The French nation stopped next to you and sighed, running a hand through his soft blond hair. He looked at you and paused for a moment, as though he was trying to find the right words.


"Cherie, I have tried and tried and you still don't understand," he began and chuckled a little. "I like you a lot."


You frowned, "Sure, and I bet once you've gotten what you want you'll just dump me like everyone else."


"Ah, I can see what you would think that," Francis said and smiled, "And I don't blame you, ma cherie, I really don't. I... have not helped myself in this situation, have I?"


"Not really, no..."


"[Name]," Francis stepped forward and took your hand in his own. Still untrusting, you attempted to pull your hand away but he held on tight, refusing to let you leave. "[Name], believe me..."


"I want to..." You blushed a little, knowing that this may have just proved to him that you did in fact like him back. You looked away and Francis tugged on your hand, pulling you a little closer.


"[Name]... I have tried so hard... just give me a chance..."


You paused and considered it. It was true that you liked him too... it was just, this was Francis and many of your friends had told you stories and you knew they were true. But... what did it matter what they told you? You wanted to believe him, you really did. So why not?


"I don't want to get hurt..." You said and glanced up to meet his gaze. Francis nodded, understanding why you would feel this way and he replied, "I will not hurt you, that I promise."


"Then... maybe... maybe we could try... I guess. Take it slow?"


"Oui... for you, I will do just that..." Francis nodded and pulled you a little closer again and placed a small kiss on your head. You smiled.


Maybe everything would work out after all. You would just have to trust him.
wow... i have joined the bandwagon and wrote a reader-indert fic OTL first fic like this for, what... 2 years :'D

i know this is kinda crap and i'm sorry but it's been a VERY long time and i am kinda rusty.. so maybe with a bit more practice i'll get better ; A;

i love France *A* so that was why i wrote for him first. i will probably write more readerxnation fics... just dont expect one with spain or romano, cause i love my Spamano too much! //shot dead.

anyway... enjoy :iconlazycryplz:
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Arthur looked on with a horrified expression. Hurt and anger filled his emerald eyes as he watched the love of his life kiss another man. He couldn't believe they hadn't noticed him yet.


"Alfred...?" he asked slowly. He wanted to pinch himself and wake up from the nightmare. He wanted to wake up beside his Alfred and everything would be all right.


Alfred and the other man pulled away from each other quickly as though something had stung them. The American looked over to his boyfriend with an expression that would only convey fright.


"Arthur! I can explain, I swear!"


"Oh, can you now?" Arthur asked; his tone dipped in venom. The sheer anger in his eyes was enough to make the American wince.


"Just let me explain, please..." Alfred begged. Arthur shook his head; he'd trusted him. He'd trusted him with his feelings and he'd lowered his defences. He'd exposed his heart to man he loved, only to have to stamped on mercilessly and left to decay.


Looks like you made the wrong choice yet again, Arthur.


"What is there to explain?" Arthur demanded, "Could you possibly tell me something I don't already know?"


"You don't understand the circumstances!" Alfred reached out to him but the Brit regarded him with an expression of disgust.


"Stay away from me!" he snapped furiously. He turned to the other man... his long time friend Francis, who was looking away awkwardly, "And you... I thought you were my friend!"


Francis watched him as he stood up too, "Mon ami... It just happened, I don't—"


"I don't want to speak to you!" Arthur shouted, "Get out!"


Francis all too willingly complied, but not before Arthur's fist came sailing into his face. The Englishman felt satisfied when he saw the blood gush from the Frenchman's nose.


"Get out!" he snapped once again, "I don't want you getting blood anywhere."


With a hand over his nose, Francis hurried out the house as quickly as possible. When the door slammed closed, Arthur turned his attention to Alfred. The American watched him with tears in his eyes and Arthur almost laughed. Why should he cry? He's the one in the wrong.


Arthur would never cry in front of Alfred; he wouldn't give him the satisfaction.


"Arthur, please..." Alfred said weakly, "Please listen to me..."


"No! You listen to me!" Arthur snarled. The American looked at him with wide watery eyes but he stayed silent, "I trusted you!" The Brit shouted. He could feel the tears building up but he refused to let them fall, "I let you in and I trusted you, and all for what? To come home and find you cheating on me? You have no idea how hard it was to open up to you, no idea at all!" he took a breath and continued quietly, "I thought you loved me...."


"I do!" Alfred cried. Once again he tried to reach out to Arthur and once again he moved away from him with a bitter laugh.


"Of course you do!" he sneered, "You certainly have a funny way of showing it. Sometimes I wonder if you ever loved me at all!"


"Arthur, that's not fair!" Alfred declared, "Of course I love you!"


"Then why did you cheat on me!?" Arthur shouted loudly, "If you love me so much, why did you break my heart!?"


Alfred opened his mouth to respond but he closed it again a moment later. After pausing for a few moments, he finally spoke, "Nothing I can say will justify what I just did..." he said quietly. He glanced up, but quickly looked down again when he saw the glare Arthur was directing at him, "But I do love you Arthur. I love you so much..."


Arthur snorted, clearly not believing him. Alfred raised his gaze to met Arthur's furious one and he used all his courage to keep it there, "I'm so sorry...."



"Sometimes sorry isn't good enough. Sorry won't mend my broken heart..." Arthur hissed. He wanted to make it clear just how much he was hurting right now. He slowly moved around Alfred and walked to their bedroom. He put a hand on the doorknob and looked at the American, who was wiping his eyes with the back of his hand.


"I'm going to my room now... you're not to come anywhere near me. Tomorrow... I want you gone."


"Arthur!" Alfred quickly protested but the Englishman glared at him again to silence him.


"I don't want you anywhere near me," he said again, "You don't deserve it..."


With one more final glare, he turned his back on Alfred and walked into his room. He slammed the door behind him and locked it. He didn't fail to hear the loud sob Alfred let out as soon as the door was closed.


Arthur slid down the door and sat on the floor with his head in his hands. His chest ached and he finally let his tears fall. They kept coming, with no sign of stopping. He sniffled and cried silently. He didn't want to let Alfred know he was crying. He wanted him to know how much he was hurting but he never would show him crying. Arthur Kirkland was too proud for that.


After a few moments, Arthur finally moved himself off the floor and shuffled to the bed. He lay on his side of the bed with his back to Alfred's and he hugged the pillow to his face and tried to stop the flow of tears. He'd never felt so hurt. He didn't know what he'd done to deserve this... was there something wrong with him? As hr not satisfying Alfred in the way that he would have liked? Wasn't he good enough? Had Alfred grown bored of him?


All these questioned burned in the back of his mind and as each one of them formed, more tears made their way down Arthur's cheeks. He wiped his eyes until they were sore. They were red and puffy after half an hour of crying and he finally sat up. He sniffled and walked to the bathroom to wash up. He looked at his reflection and frowned at how pathetic he looked. He washed his face and went back to the bed. He lay down for a few moments before there was a knock on the door.


"Piss off!" he shouted, knowing who it was, "I don't want to talk to you!"


"Arthur, please talk to me!" Alfred pleaded, "I want to make this right!"


"I don't want to talk to you!" Arthur shouted again and buried his face in the pillow. He just wished Alfred would just shut up and leave him alone. It was bad enough that he was still here.


There was shuffling around and Arthur realised that Alfred had settled himself against the door. The Brit thought that he wouldn't move until he decided to talk to him. Arthur knew he would be waiting a very long time.


He lay on the bed for hours on end and when it finally grew late, he changed for bed and curled up under the covers. He kept his back to Alfred's side of the bed and eventually he fell into an uneasy sleep.


-------


The next morning Arthur awoke to the sound of the door knocking. He rubbed his eyes and his heard sank at the memory of the previous day. The knocking continued.


"Arthur?" Alfred asked from the other side of the door, "Arthur, I need to come in. I need my work stuff..."


Arthur walked to the closet and grabbed the clothes Alfred would need for work. He opened the door to the bedroom and threw the clothes at the waiting American, "You can change in the spare room," he said icily, "And you can use the other bathroom."


"Um... sure..." Alfred said as he removed his pants from his face. He sighed and turned his back on Arthur and decided to try one last time to talk to him one last time before he had to leave for work.


Half an hour later, Arthur emerged from his room and ignored Alfred while they were getting breakfast. The American did his best to get Arthur to speak to him but the Brit refused to even look at him. By the time it was time for Alfred to leave, he was close to tears. He was tempted to call in sick but he decided that Arthur should have time to cool down and everything would be better when he came home.


"I'm leaving now..." Alfred said quietly. Arthur looked up over his tea cup and glared him. Alfred squirmed a little and wringed his hands nervously and when Arthur didn't respond, he sighed and picked up his jacket and left for work.


-------


When Alfred returned, he found a bag at the door. He looked down at it curiously, and then he looked at Arthur who was sipping tea while reading a book.


"Arthur?"


"I have packed your things," Arthur said stiffly. He looked over at him, "I'd like you to find somewhere else to stay..."


"Arthur no...." Alfred said; his eyes wide. He couldn't believe this was happening to him. He revealed the bouquet of flowers- Arthur's favourite- and held them out to him with a small smile. He could have sworn he saw Arthur's expression soften for a split second. A split second was all it lasted for, though, before the enraged look returned to his eyes.


"You think you can give me flowers and everything would be okay?" he asked, "I can't believe you, Alfred..."


The American's smile fell and his heart sank. His arm dropped to his side and his eyes filled with tears once more. How many times had he cried? Too much in his opinion.


"You made your choice," Arthur said and he looked down into his tea cup, "You may leave now."


"Arthur... forgive me... please..." Alfred tried but Arthur shook his head. He raised his emerald eyes to meet Alfred's pleading sapphires and he uttered only one word:


"Never."


-------


It had been two weeks and Arthur still refused to have any contact with Alfred. He missed him dearly, he wouldn't deny that. He missed the way he would hold him at night, h missed the way he would greet him with little kisses. He missed his laugh, his smile and even his little habits that Arthur mostly scolded him for. They had a system, a routine and Arthur found himself lost without it. He found himself lost without Alfred.


However, he had betrayed him. He hurt him greatly and he couldn't forgive him. The trust the two of them had shared was now gone and he didn't think there could be any means of restoring it.

Arthur had gone about life as normally as he could. Avoided contact with both Alfred and Francis... well, he avoided contact with most people. He went to work, he went home and on the weekends he cleaned. He kept his own routine and from time to time, he found himself almost speaking to Alfred but then he remembered he wasn't there.


He had kept the flowers Alfred gave him the day he kicked him out, though.


Alfred, however, had tried everything in his power to get Arthur to talk to him. He called and texted and went to the house. He knocked on the door and waited for Arthur to talk to him. The Brit knew he was there but he refused to open the door.


One day, Alfred walked to the house with an envelope in his hands. He looked down at it and then at the house. He took a breath and walked to the door. He mailed the envelope then knocked on the door. As soon as he had done that he hurried away from the door and hid in a bush at the end of the garden. He watched as Arthur opened the door and looked around. The Brit was holding the envelope in his hands as he glanced around then he looked down at the paper in his hands. Alfred held his breath as he watched Arthur open it and read what he'd written.


Arthur,
I know you probably don't want to talk to me so I figured this was the only way I could say how sorry I am. I know you're hurt and you have every right to be, but the choice I'd made was the worst I'd ever made. I'm so sorry, Arthur, and I feel terrible about it. I just want to make everything okay again. I know how hard it was for you to trust me in the first place and now I've completely ruined it, haven't I? I can't believe I'd done something so stupid.
Please for give me, Arthur... and please give me a chance to make this right. I love you so much and I don't want to loose you.
Please call me and give me a chance to explain.
All my love,
Alfred.



Alfred watched with a hopeful expression but his heart sank once again when he saw Arthur tear the letter into tiny shreds.


------


Another week and still no contact had been made between the two males. Arthur was missing Alfred more and more and he was starting to think that this was stupid.


He knew that Alfred had made a huge mistake, and he knew that he had broken Arthur's heart... but he also knew that he was very sorry and he knew he would walk to the end of the world if Arthur told him so. He would do anything for Arthur to forgive him.


Arthur was finally finding it in his heart to forgive him. He felt he'd been extremely cruel to Alfred, not giving him a chance to explain. Arthur was stubborn, though. Anyone who knew him would know that. It was hard to change his mind once he'd decided on something, and with Alfred he decided that he didn't want to forgive him.


Arthur sat on the couch sipping his tea and he stared at the wall in front of him thoughtfully. After a moment, he picked up his phone and called Alfred's phone. He waited and waited and when he was informed his call couldn't be received, he presumed that Alfred had to work late. He set his phone down on the chair and he would call him later.


He was ready to forgive him.


Two hours later, Arthur's phone started to ring. Arthur hurried from the kitchen and snatched up his phone. He stared at the unknown number and his heart started to beat rapidly. He smiled and answered the phone, "Hello?"


"Hello, am I speaking to Arthur Kirkland?"


Arthur frowned at the unfamiliar voice, "Yes, this is he... can I help you?"


"Hello Arthur... my name is James Smith... I'm a doctor at the hospital. I'm calling in regards to Alfred Jones. I'm afraid he was involved in a serious car accident and he's in a critical condition."


Arthur felt his heart shatter all over again.
...Do you guys hate me yet? -nervous laughter- ^^'

As if things couldn't get bad enough...

One more chapter to go... I'll most likely have it up within the next couple of days...

because I'm sadistic and I enjoyed writing this

...

-throws chapter at you and runs-

Edit: PS- I promise everything will get better, so never fear~ 8D

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