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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~~~~


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.


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.


"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;

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The rain was pouring down relentlessly. Dirt had turned to mud and puddles were everywhere. It had been a battlefield not too long ago so there were mini craters, ammunition shells, and corpses scattered everywhere. Even so, a man was running through it all. His snow white hair shone in the darkness as his boots splashed through the puddles and mud, his arms wrapped tightly around a large bundle. Where ever this man was going, he needed to get there now.

After a while longer of running, the battlefield turned into a road and that road into a city. He ran through though the cobblestone roads up to a rather fancy house. Up to the door he went and forced his way in past the servants and a few guards. He got into the room he wanted. It was decorated lavishly with the finest fabrics with bright reds and golds with some blue here and there. As expected for the country of France. Sitting on the couch, obviously caught in the middle of a discussion were two blondes. One had shoulder length wavy locks, beautiful blue eyes and a chin adorned with some golden stubble. The other had shorter, slightly messy looking hair and unnaturally thick eyebrows above acid green eyes. Both were looking at the silver haired man with mild surprise.

"Oh my. Look what the cat dragged in," mused the man with shorter hair, his voice adorned with a British accent.

"Now what would bring you to my doorstep?" asked the other, a French accent in his voice.

"Please... Save mein bruder..." said the silver haired man, out of breath. He was about ready to collapse. He loosened his grip on the bundle in his arms and the cloth shielding it fell away. A young boy with bright blond hair was revealed. His hair was falling in front of his extremely pale face, his eyes were closed and his breathing was shallow and getting less and less every minute.

"Now, why should I do that?" asked the Englishman.

"Please... I'll do anything..." said he as his knees, unable to hold him up anymore, gave away. He fell to his knees and his head hung over the small child in his arms. His hair in front of his eyes, he began to cry.

"I don't know. What do you think of this?" he asked the man next to him.

"Have pity. It iz his dear frère, after all," said the Frenchman.

"... Alright. I'll help. However, he will have no memories of the time before now and he will never be allowed to fall in love with another. If he says to the person he loves that he loves them, he will disappear. Are you willing to accept these terms?"

The silver haired man stayed silent for a moment. "Does it count to family?"


"Then fine. Do vhat you need to do."

"Alright then," the Englishman said with a slightly evil smile. He walked over to the silver haired man and took the young child from his arms. He then walked back over to the couch and placed the child down on it. He began to draw symbols on the child's forehead and chest, muttering an old incantation. The symbols he drew began to glow and became brighter and brighter until he finished the spell and the light subsided. The child's breathing stabilized and his face began to show some colour. "It's is done. He will be fine now," he said, turning back to the silver haired man.

"Thank gott..." said he before completely passing out and landing on the floor.
So, random idea I came up with. The concept of this may have been used before in other stories, but I reeeaally wanted to write this. And it's a nice contrast to the other fanfic I have going on right now. I'm not too sure how fast I will update this, but I really want to do a good job on it, so it may take a while.

You should be able to guess the characters in the scene xD

Feedback is loved.

Hetalia (c) Himaruya
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"Hey! --------!"

A clear high voice rang out from the grassy hill. Germany, who had been kneeling and staring at some wild flowers looked up and turned to see where the voice had come from.


Rang the voice again.

He scanned the grassy field behind him and soon saw a small girl dressed in a light green dress with a bright clean apron running towards him. She stopped in front of him, her reddish-brown hair slightly messy from running and a small curl sticking out from the left side of her head. She smiled at Germany.

"I'm so glad I found you, --------," she said happily.

It was strange. He knew the girl was saying his name, but for some reason it was muted out.

"What are you doing here?" the girl asked.

Suddenly, for some reason, he felt some heat rise up in his cheeks and his heart start beating a little faster. Germany was confused at these changes and wondered if perhaps it was because of the small child in front of him. But why would a person cause these changes?

"Ah, nothing!" he said. What was wrong with his voice? It sounded a lot higher than it was supposed to be.

"Oh, I see. So you mind if I join you then?" the girl asked him.

Germany felt his cheeks heat up more as his unusually high voice stuttered, "N-no! I d-don't mind..."

"Yay!" she exclaimed happily as she took a seat next to him. "The flowers here are always so pretty," she said while looking at the blossoming petals with a kind smile.

"Yeah... Hey, -----," Strange. Her name was muted as well. "why won't you join up with me?" he asked, face down and twirling a single blade of grass between his pointer finger and thumb.

"Because..." she started, "Grandpa told me not to..."

"-----!" he shouted, standing up. "Can't you see that I –"

He was cut off by a large gust of wind that blew away his voice along with many loose flower petals and dragged the scene away with them.

Germany closed his eyes and held his arm up to protect his eyes from the strong wind, but when he opened them again the scene had completely changed to something else. He was still in a grassy field, but this time he was sitting across from his older brother Prussia with some toy soldiers between them.

Germany remembered this scene from when he was younger and just started being a nation. It was one of his oldest memories.

He and his older brother had been sitting in the field for a while and the toy soldiers were strewn all over the place, some on their sides and others still standing. It was Prussia's own personal way of teaching his younger brother battle tactics.

"Hah! Beat you again! You need to brush up on your skills, little bruder!" Prussia gloated, followed by that strange sound he called a laugh.

"Well, maybe if you weren't so hard on me, maybe I could actually win," Germany retorted. Again, his voice was noticeably higher, but not as high as last time.

"Ah, but where would the point be in that? You need to learn these things so that you can grow up big and strong like your awesome older bruder," he said with a rather smug look on his face.

"I know..." Germany said, looking away slightly depressed.

Prussia took note of this and said, "Tell you what, you play one more game with me and I'll treat you to some of my special wurst."

Germany's face lit right up. "Really? You're on!" he declared and began setting up his soldiers again.

"Bruder?" Germany called.

Prussia looked up from his own soldiers. "Ja?"

"I love you."

"... Ja, me, too. But remember, you can only say that to me. Got it?"

"Ja, I got it."

Another breeze blew but Germany was too occupied with the toy soldiers to cover his eyes this time. The colours were blown away with the wind and the scene soon faded to black.


Germany's eyes fluttered open when he finally woke up from his dreams. He sat up on his cot and took a look around, remembering that he was in a military tent and that he was in the middle of a war. The early morning light from outside lit up his ten which held his cot, military bag and his rifle. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and pulled his legs out from his sleeping bag then checked his watch. Six in the morning, huh? he thought. He stretched out his arms and stood up and began pulling on his military uniform that had been hanging neatly on his tent wall.

After making sure everything was perfect with his uniform and his tent was tidy, he stepped out of his tent to find most of his army already awake. He walked through the camp saying good morning to those who saluted him as he walked past. He picked up his portion of breakfast from the servers which was just some bread served with some wurst. After taking a seat, he began chewing through the slightly stale bread and started to wonder about the dreams he had the night before.

Why did he have the dreams he did? Who was that girl in the green dress and why did he react the way he did? It felt as if he knew her somehow, but he couldn't recall her anywhere in his memories. And he prided himself on his memory. It was strange to him that he would see a memory like dream when he was sure he had no memories like it. And why that memory of his brother right after? He had never questioned why his brother had told him not to say "I love you" to someone else. He just merely followed what his brother said. Even now, he is still sure not to say those words to anyone else. Not that he'd felt the need to anyways.

He soon gave up trying to figure out his dreams and dropped off his empty plate with the washers and made his way over to the captain's tent. Once over there, he pushed open the flap to see the captain and a few other high ranking military men leaning over a table with a map of Europe on it with little figured dotted all over it.

The captain looked up and smiled at Germany. "Ah, Guten Morgen, Fatherland. Come on over and join in the discussion."

"Yes, sir." Germany replied and walked over the map. A number of small red figured were placed in a small group at the border of Italy that showed where their current location was. "What's the course of action for today?"

"We're planning on invading Italy."

"I see..." Italy was a country that was originally part of their alliance but switched sides and was now their enemy. Rumour had it that England had promised Italy land if they won the war. Germany wasn't about to let the enemy win even if one of his allies had switched sides. Germany had never personally met the nation, but he was sure that he would be trouble.

"If we could send a scout ahead to assess the situation that would be great. But who would we send?"

"Don't we have some soldiers we can send?"

"Yes, but those Italian can be very tricky. We need someone we know we can trust."


"I could be the scout," Germany offered.

"But you're the Fatherland. We can't afford to lose you."

"They don't know who I am. And I'm fairly confident I could escape with ease."

"I suppose..." The captain turned the thought over in his head for a moment. "Alright. Go get yourself ready and meet me at the edge of camp in ten minutes."

"Yes, sir!" Germany said saluting then went off to gather the necessary supplies from his tent.


About an hour later, Germany found himself within Italian territory. He had been walking around for a while, yet hadn't come across any soldiers. It was so strange. He wasn't sure why, but he had picked up a stick a while back. Perhaps because it was something he could use a little bit of extra defence. He surveyed the area he currently occupied and sighed. There wasn't anyone in sight.

Wait a second. There was someone behind a bush to the right of him. He held up his stick and carefully approached the bush, ready to whack the person over the head to knock him out then tie him up.

However, before he got close enough, he saw a head poke up from behind the bush. Germany was ready to charge at the man, but he merely screamed, threw his hands up in the air and ran away shouting "Don't shoot meeeee!"

Stunned, Germany blinked a few times in astonishment. The man had been wearing an Italian military uniform. Was he a deserter? Germany shrugged off the weird event and continued on his way.

Germany normally wouldn't have worried about a single deserter, but the same type of event kept on happening. Every Italian he came across ran away at the sight of him. He was getting utterly confused. Was the whole Italian army like this? Surely not! Italy was the descendent of the great Roman Empire after all.

He walked some more, pushing through some bushes and looking around until once again, he was stopped once again right in his tracks. Right there, in the middle of the forest was a crate with the word 'tomato' written on it.

Confused at the strange sight, he walked up to the box. "What's a box of tomatoes doing out here?" he asked the air as he tapped the box with his stick. A voice shouted from the box which cause Germany to take a step back in surprise.

"H- hello there! I am a tomato box fairy! I'm here to be your friend! Let's play together!" the crate shouted.

Germany was broken out of his shock and took hold of the crate. "It sounds like there's someone in here!" he said, trying to pull the lid off.

"No there isn't! Please don't open it!"

"Damn, it's heavy!" Germany grunted. The box was too heavy to be just tomatoes. There had to be a person in it.

"What good would it do you to open me up!?" the box pleaded.

"Show me... Your identity!" Germany grunted again, trying to pry the lid off the heavy crate with his hands. He could feel the top begin to give away and start coming off from the rest of it. Suddenly, the whole thing just popped off and Germany fell backwards from the force he was using to pull it off. He cringed from landing on his back and quickly sat up and looked at who had jumped up from inside the box.

His eyes went wide from what he saw for a moment.

He had seen the small girl from his dream.
I'm soooooo sorry it took so long to get this out!
I was so busy this week and kept on getting distracted and I'm sorry it's not as well written as the prologue >_<

But, here it is!
I have the whole plot written out and yes! This is a GerIta fanfic!
They are too cute a couple >w<

Anyways, please enjoy it!

Feedback is loved~

Prologue: [link]
Part 2: To be written

Hetalia (c) Himaruya
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I don't know... There's something about the colouring I don't like. But, I don't know how to fix it, so may as well put it up.
The idea is cute though~

Feedback is loved!

Hetalia (c) Himaruya
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100 Ways to Annoy England

1. Insult his tea/cooking.

2. Speak French.

3. Say 'learned' instead of 'learnt'.

4. Tell him that unicorns are just colorful horses with ice cream cones on their head.

5. Touch his eyebrows.

6. Say his eyebrows look like fluffy caterpillars.

7. Call the British football soccer.

8. Randomly scream in his face.

9. Stare at him like he has three eyes until he screams at you.

10. Call him a punk.

11. Call him random nicknames like 'butt-munch'.

12. Insist that he watches 'uni-porn' or unicorns doing porn.

13. Ask if Tinkerbelle is his friend.

14. Ask what drugs he's on to see his fairy friends.

15. Insist that he is a pedophile.

16. Say that France is an example of a perfect gentleman.

17. Tell him Sealand is a country.

18. Repeat his name over and over until he walks away.

19. When he starts talking, keep yelling "WHAT?" until he gets frustrated.

20. Say that the Irish (or the American) have better food.

21. Poke him repeatedly.

22. Brag about how awesome you are.

23. Get into a fight with America over who's more heroic in front of him.

24. Tell him that he's no longer an empire.

25. Ask him to wear a bikini.

26. Show him your 'new' bird imitations.

27. With every question he asks you, promptly reply with "Would you like some fries with that?"

28. Insist that coffee is better than tea.

29. Insult the Queen/King.

30. Ask him if he knows Jack Sparrow.

31. Jump around his room and flap your wing pretending that you're a bird.

32. Go commando during a World Meeting.

33. Get a fairy costume and randomly run into his house and dance on his table.

34. Keep repeating 'P. Sherman, 42 Wallaby Way, Sydney.'

35. Fart in his face and insist on always calling him 'fart-face.'

36. Randomly sing 'Big Balls' whenever around a big crowd.

37. Friend him on Facebook and try to list him as your wife.

38. Once you are friends, post "Wow! Last night was amazing wasn't it?" on his Wall and make sure to tell everyone to reply to it.

39. Constantly repeat 'Winning' after everything you do, no matter what you're doing.

40. Challenge him to Beer Pong and shout out 'Red Solo Cup."

41. Ask for a balloon.

42. Call him a 'Senior Citizen' and 'Old-Man' and 'Liver-Spot Iggy.'

43. Pop bubble wrap in his face.

44. Try to flush a feminine product down his toilet.

45. Act like a teenage girl with lots of hormones and when he asks what is wrong with you, start screaming and crying uncontrollably. This is most effective in a public setting.

46. Randomly yell 'pillow fight' during a meeting and start hitting him in the face with a pillow.

47. Wear your underwear on his head.

48. Sing 'Twinkle Twinkle Little Star' as loud as you can.

49. Insist that you can speak squirrel and start squeaking and trying to eat nuts.

50. Put war paint on your face and start talking gibberish very loudly.

51. Make 'mating noises' to him during a meeting.

52. Say that scones are just a burnt cookie.

53. Randomly yell 'Happy Birthday' and proceed to sing Frosty the Snow Man, even in July.

54. Whenever there is a silence, claim that gay babies are born.

55. Wear Speedos.

56. Make unnecessary sound affects when doing the simplest things…like when going to the bathroom.

57. Call him 'muchacho' whenever you talk to him.

58. Ask him if he takes meds. When he says no, ask him why not.  When he gets offended, tell him that he needs to lay off the smokes.

59. Ask him where babies come from.

60. Ask him where he parked the bat mobile.

61. Randomly yell 'I HAVE TO TINKLE/ PEE PEE/ POOP/ DUMP!' whenever you feel like raising a few (caterpillar) eyebrows.

62. Pretend to be Louie from Family Guy and repeat 'Iggy' repeativly, then 'Mom', then 'Mommy', then "Momma' and then whatever floats your boat until he yells at you. When he does, say 'hi' and run away.

63. When he's asleep, dip his hand in warm water and see if he wets the bed.

64. Stack Red Solo Cups all over his desk.

65. Yell "Four" and see if anyone looks for a golf ball.

66. Smile like an idiot and when he asks what you're smiling about claim it's just your 'pudding face.'

67. Make monkey noises and jump all around the furniture.

68. Whenever he frowns at you, pout at him and call him 'Mr. Grumpy Gills.'

69. Pretend to be a knight and 'dub' him 'Sir Scowls-A-Lot.'

70. Dress up like a Zombie and try to eat him while shouting 'brains.'

71. Tell him that 'Silly rabbit, Trix are for kids.' When he asks what you're talking about, tell him that Sealand is a fluffy bunny and wants some trix.

72. Ask him who cut the cheese and randomly produce a slice of cheese from your pocket.

73. Practice your roars and when he asks what you're dinosaur, scream that you're a dinosaur and try to grab him with your t-rex arms.

74. Walk around like a cowboy and when he asks what you're doing, say 'This town ain't big enough for the two of us' and pretend to shoot him.

75. When he gets irritable, ask him if he has his period.

76. Walk like a chicken and peck at your food while making squawking noises.

77. Pretend to give birth to a hippo.

78. Say 'in bed' after everything.

79. Practice your donkey impersonations loudly.

80. Wear a thong and claim you're a sumo wrestler.

81. Run around in circles and make airplane noises.

82. Crawl around on the floor and roll around the floor like a ninja.

83. Make suggestive noises.

84. Give him a hamburger.

85. Make random, hardly noticeable noises whenever you take a step.

86. Sing 'London Bridge is Falling Down!'

87. Scream that the worlds going to end.

88. Tap your fingers randomly.

89. Tell him you have a very important secret (stress the 'very') and then proceed to burp in his ear with a pause of antic…….pation.

90. Pet a fluffy kitty and say "Say hello to my little friend."

91. Teach a parrot to repeat everything he says.

92. Randomly give thumbs up.

93. Ask him if he's been a good boy.

94. Get a perm and ask what he thinks. No matter what his answer is, start crying and yelling that he's mean.

95. Pretend to be a Gorilla and pound your fists on your chest.

96. Whenever he comes over, yell "The British are coming!"

97. Repeat the last three words that he says.

98. Draw out your speech so it's agonizingly slow.

99. Scream like a girl whenever you see a small bug.

100. Pretend to be a skunk.
Lol. I don't know why I wrote this. It's really stupid but my mom laughed at the one about giving birth to a hippo (Ace Ventura reference)

100 Ways to Annoy Germany: [link]
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100 Ways to Annoy Germany

1. Call him a 'potato eater.'

2. Give Italy a Monster or other energy drink and unleash the power onto Germany.

3. Give excessive hugs.

4. Give him a dirty magazine.

5. Dance around like a ballerina.

6. Ask if he copied off of Belgium's flag for his own.

7. Give him a small sausage and say it's the life size replica of his manhood.

8. Tell him that Germany backwards sounds Jamaican.

9. Harass Italy repeatedly. Most effective with more than one person.

10. Tell him how much you admired the Italian military before he destroyed it.

11. Pee in his beer.

12. Hire a bunch of pretty girls to lap dance on him. When Italy gets upset, have the girls leave Germany to go with Italy and watch the jealousy.

13. Team up with Gilbert and/or the Bad Touch Trio (preferably Bad Touch Trio) and unleash the power.

14. Lock him in a room with Russia.

15. Stare at him for as long as possible. When he asks what your staring about twitch your eye.

16. Poke him repeatedly preferably in facial areas like the cheek or the forehead. To achieve maximum irritation, use a pen so every time you poke him it makes a clicky noise.

17. Pretend to be a moose.

18. Put on James Bond music and roll around and do flips.

19. Dress all in black and follow him around during the day light (Daylight is key). When he turns around, hide behind a narrow tree of a pole.

20. Make a gun with your finger and pretend to shoot him while yelling 'Pew!' in a high pitched voice.

21. Sing like Alvin and the Chipmunks.

22. Randomly shout "LAND HOE!!".

23. Whenever you fart, start singing "Ops I did it again."

24. Grunt whenever you walk.

25. Spill water on his pants and start yelling out he peed himself "AGAIN!"

26. Eat a leaf.

27. Stick a condom in his jacket pocket and write "From Italy" on a slip of paper and attach it to the condom.

28. Make sure the condom is an extra small.

29. Ask him what gender he is.

30. When he says he's a male, look amazed and comment about his big boobs.

31. Start having an intelligent conversation and at a really import part, go off track and start talking about something random.

32. Start singing Sweeney Todd whenever he eats some sausage.

33. Randomly say "Oh Yeah!" in a deep voice.

34. Draw mustaches on all his pictures.

35. Ask to use his bathroom. Once you have gained access, be sure to make loud noises. When you come out, be sure to brag about how big and stinky it was.

36. Randomly kiss his cheek and skip away singing "I Kissed a Girl."

37. Put a fake pile of poop on the floor.

38. Put a real pile of poop on the floor.

39. Sing "Milkshakes" and start touching his chest.

40. Gasp at everything he says.

41. Tell him it's not his fault. When he questions what you're saying, start yelling very loudly that it's not his fault and to 'stop it'.

42. Tell him Italy is pregnant…and it's his child.

43. Tell him Italy is pregnant and that it isn't his child.

44. Have Italy wear a bra on his head.

45. Whenever he is eating, start making noises like your throwing up or start talking about gore.

46. Repeat his name over and over.

47. No matter what you're talking about, yell constantly.

48. Pretend to have a headache. When he asks what's wrong, say you still had a hangover from their 'sausage fest' the previous night. If he doesn't ask what's wrong, start screaming at him for being so bad.

49. Start singing "German Sparkle Party."

50. Whisper something bad about Italy that will get him really mad in a public place. When he yells at you, play innocent and start crying so it makes him look bad.

51. When he says your name, gasp really loud and ask him how he knows your name and call him a stalker.

52. Make random beeping noises.

53. Talk in a really deep/high pitched voice.

54. Team up with Romano. Stand on one side of him while Romano stands on the other side. Yell at him while hitting and smacking him.

55. Sing "Hips Don't Lie" and shake your hips.

56. Pretend to be a super hero and strike random poses.

57.  Ask if he likes tops or bottoms. When he freaks out, pretend to be innocent and say you were just talking about bunk beds.

58. Pretend to be a submarine.

59. When he eats a sandwich start crying about the poor, ugly end piece that everyone avoids.

60. Whenever you walk, pretend to be a pony and say you were practicing for your rodeo with Poland.

61. When he gets mad at you, tell him that there are pills to help him balance his hormones.

62. Whenever he drinks beer start to sing "BEER!!" by Sycostick.

63. Say that the German language sounds like a cat puking up a fur ball.

64. Ask him where Candy Mountain is. When he says there is no Candy Mountain, start crying.

65. Tell him Italy is in love with Gilbert.

66. Ask him why the Hetalia movie is called Paint It White. Proceed to ask if it has something to do with an intimate body reaction.

67. Call him at 1 AM and loudly cry about a monster under his bed and ask him to come over. If he hangs up, call repeatedly.

68. Break into his house and hide in his closet.

69. Do the 'pee pee dance' during a meeting.

70. Be sure to interrupt when he's talking during a meeting to use the bathroom.

71. During a meeting, admire the birds outside the window.

72. Whenever he starts talking, scream 'LIES' and start crying hysterically.

73. Tell him that you are his father and breathe like Darth Vader.

74. Pimp yourself like a ganster and start calling him 'home dawg' and 'homie Gee'.

75. Shout 'Foshizzal!'

76. Talk like Scarface.

77. Ask him to get you a glass of water. If he refuses, scream until he gets you a glass.

78. Once you get the glass of water, yell at him and say you asked for something else.

79. Wink at him.

80. Roll down the window of your car and wave to everyone who drives by.

81. Start singing commercials.

82. Laugh at anything he says.

83. When he falls asleep, draw inappropriate things on his face.

84. Learn a Mindless Self Indulgence song and/or say to him "Excuse me, do you want to screw."

85. Yell about a bat being in your garage. When he goes in there, hide behind him and point to a baseball bat.

86. Pretend to be a snow man.

87. Start banging around on a piano and say you're Mozart.

88. Act drunk and hang all over him.

89. Stare at him really close to his face.

90. Whenever he eats a potato, start making small crying noises as if the potato is crying.

91. Count on your fingers.

92. Walk backwards.

93. Go up the down escalator.

94. Play screamo or metal really loud around a bunch of people.

95. Make a bunch of weird faces.

96. Laugh at anything.

97. Start every sentence with 'Yo'.

98. When you laugh, laugh like a weirdo.

99. Leave 100 blank.

Someone had asked me to do other countries. I was really amazed by all te reviews and favorites I got. Just to cover it before you ask, you can use this for whatever you want but please give me credit and give me the link. I'd love to se if and I'd post it here so others can see it if you are ok with me doing that. THanks!

100 Ways to Annoy England: [link]
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A to Z GerIta Drabbles

A/N: I was really interested to do this one! I want to start doing more research on random stuff and this is the kind of things I'm interested in. I should be a doctor! I love blood, only I hate seeing people sad or in pain. Lol. So off track. ^_^

Important for story: This is a bit AU. It takes place during the time when live transplants could only be done if the persons were related or close. This would require pictures of the two together over a span of a few years or marriage certificates. In this story, Ludwig and Feliciano are humans that haven't seen each other for a while. That's all you need to know for now. Hopefully you'll be able to gather everything else if it is written correctly!

Disclaimer: Hikari does not own or claim to own Hetalia. Also, thanks to Dragongirl124680 for betaing this chapter!

Theme: D for Donation (As suggested by EmeraldEyesofThunder on DA)


"You have nothing to worry about." a doctor instructed a blond haired man lying on the hospital bed. "Kidney transplants are a relatively simple operation. We finally found a kidney to use for the transplant and everything should go smoothly."

The blond haired man spoke, his German accent slightly slurred from the drugs that were starting to take effect on him, "Where did the kidney come from?" he asked. Even with his sluggish, drugged mind, he still remembered with ease that the doctors were having trouble finding a replacement for his own kidney.

Ludwig had been surprised to learn that his kidney had failed him at such a young age. The usually robust German man was as strong and resilient as they came. To hear his kidney was failing was a huge surprise.

After he learned he would need a kidney transplant, his brother had gone to see if his kidney would have a match to be used on Ludwig. Ludwig found it unlikely that it could be of any use because of Gilbert's health but his brother insisted on trying anyway. They brought in their birth certificates and pictures of the two of them together to prove that they were related. The doctors took Gilbert in to be examined.

Unfortunately for Ludwig, his brother's albinoism made him incompatible. His brother could easily develop complications from the surgery to remove his kidney and there was the question if his kidney would even be accepted by Ludwig's body.

So Ludwig entered the waiting list. Without a relative or close friend to get a kidney from he would have to wait for a dead donor; something he wasn't looking forward to. He just found it creepy to have some dead person's kidney in his body. With several other people waiting in front of him, it would take him a while to get his kidney.

That was why he had been so surprised when he got the call that there was an available kidney from a live donor.

Ludwig couldn't think of anyone who would donate a kidney to him. Gilbert was his only relative and all his friends drifted away when he grew up and moved away. His curiosity for the origin of his new kidney was strong; something to be expected since he was going to be receiving someone else's kidney.

The doctor laughed smoothly, sounding almost rehearsed. "Your recipient wishes to remain a secret until after the surgery. He would like to meet you though." the doctor told him. Ludwig's eye lids were beginning to feel very heavy. He didn't know what he would have said had he been not drugged but his over eager brain simply agreed to meet the lad who had given up his kidney for Ludwig.

"After you wake up we'll bring him in to see you. He's very excited." the doctor smiled. Ludwig groaned. His curiosity was getting the better of him. He wanted to find out who the person was and the doctor was teasing him by saying that the other person was excited to see him.

Normally, Ludwig would have been able to figure out who it was but his mind was blank. He wanted to sleep so badly but he wanted to stay awake to figure out who the person was. Logic would have told him that if he went to sleep, he could wake up after the surgery and find out who the person was. Of course, his logic had been smothered by the drugs.

Eventually Ludwig couldn't fight it and fell asleep. When he woke up, he would have a new kidney.


(Time skip)

His consciousness came about after his surgery. Ludwig still felt sleepy even though he had just slept. He sighed in relaxation as he let himself sink into the white bed.

Slowly, his thoughts came back- his logical thoughts. Snippets of the discussion before he went under flashed before his mind. He found his curiosity growing again. Who was the person who donated the kidney and why was he so excited to see Ludwig?

The doctor eventually came in. He smiled seeing Ludwig awake. "Are you up to a guest?" he asked. Ludwig looked up and nodded.

The doctor peered out the door into the hallway and called to someone. Quick footsteps neared the door matching Ludwig's quick heart beats. He had a strange feeling about the person. He didn't know what but part of him felt excited and he didn't know why.

As soon as the person entered the room, he immediately recognized his old friend, Feliciano Vargas. Feliciano had moved to Italy when Ludwig had to move back to Germany to support his sickly brother. Feliciano had been one of his closest friends for a while. They had kept in contact for a while but they eventually grew apart and lost contact. Ludwig hadn't seen him in over ten years. They had met in a strange way and they brought together in a weird way; by a kidney transplant.

"Ve~ Hi Luddy! Remember me?" Feliciano beamed. He skipped into the room, his light atmosphere extending and lighting up the dark corners of the hospital room. He stopped at Ludwig's bed, taking Ludwig's hand as if they hadn't been apart for ten long years.

Ludwig just stared incredulously at Feliciano. The smaller man smiled down at him happily and closed his eyes. It seems he hadn't lost his old habits. "J-ja…I remember you." He mumbled. Any normal person would have thought that he wasn't particularly happy to see the Italian but Feliciano used to know him better than anyone. He probably still knew him better since Ludwig hadn't changed much in the ten years.

"The doctors said you're going to be just fine! The incision they made is only a few inches long and will heal in no time! Isn't the technology they use just amazing! They do heart transplants too! Did you know that?" Feliciano babbled out. Ludwig smiled softly; he had almost forgotten how easily Feliciano could babble about the simplest of things, mostly including pasta. He had lost count of how many times Feliciano would recite the recipes of different types of pasta and wine.

"Ja, it's amazing." Ludwig agreed. He allowed a small smile to tug on the corners of his mouth. He wouldn't admit it to the young Italian but he missed him during those years of his absence. He would often think of the little Italian if he saw pasta or a pretty sunset. The Italian had appreciated some of the simplest things and had passed down his appreciation to Ludwig.

"You don't need a heart transplant, right? I'd give it to you but I kind of like my heart." Feliciano asked, looking slightly nervous. Ludwig chuckled at his logic.

"Nein, Feliciano. I don't need a heart." He chuckled. He stopped trying to hide his joy, smiling up at his old friend. "Thank you, Feliciano, for giving me your kidney."

Feliciano grinned even more, "Ve~ no problem, Luddy!" Ludwig blushed at the old nickname he had forgotten about, "Romano has been dating Antonio and Antonio is still friends with Gilbert who told Toni that you were in need of a kidney. Antonio told Romano and Romano told me so as soon as I heard, I gathered up some old pictures of us together and got on a train here real quick just so I could help you and see you again."

Ludwig smiled, touched by his dedication even after all those years, "Feli," he said quietly, testing out the old nickname on his tongue, "Thank you."

"Ve~ Ludwig? You already thanked me!" Feliciano grinned, his fingertips gently playing with Ludwig's hand.

"Ja I know, I just want to make you sure know how much I appreciate all the trouble you went through." Ludwig answered softly, his voice unusually warm. Feliciano smiled happily.

"I'm glad you're going to be better! By the way, how's Gilbert?" Feliciano asked curiously.

"He's doing better. He tried to donate his kidney but the doctors said he wasn't eligible." Ludwig sighed; his brother was a touchy subject. Even though they didn't appear close, in reality they were closer than most siblings. Feliciano knew this and always asked how Gilbert was.

"Tell him I said hi, ok?" Feliciano asked.

"You came all this way for me. Would you like to s-stay at my place until you leave?" Ludwig offered stammered. The plane ride from Italy to Germany must have been long and expensive; the least he could do was offer him a place to stay for the duration of his stay so they could get to know each other again and have fun like old times.

Feliciano instantly perked up, grinning happily. "Ve~ can I? Can I really?" Feliciano asked hopefully. Ludwig smiled, a light blush dusting his cheek.

"J-ja. You can; you'd be more than welcomed." Ludwig smiled, "You should probably also rest first. Are you tired?"

Feliciano shrugged nonchalantly, "A little but probably not as tired as you."

Ludwig smiled knowingly, "That doesn't matter."

Feliciano smiled and didn't know what else to say. Both just stared into each other's eyes. No words were said; they weren't needed. The ten year absence hadn't deterred their friendship; maybe it had even strengthened it. A light blush formed on each other's cheeks and their hearts thumped harder against their chest. Neither could pull away; both of them moving closer.

"Feli…" Ludwig whispered affectionately. There was almost an unspoken confession of their love for each other, though everyone else knew it besides Ludwig. Ludwig always blushed and denied it. It was no secret though that he really did love Feliciano.  

"Luddy…" Feliciano whispered back. His heart thumped even harder, if that was even possible. Maybe Ludwig would finally admit his affections for him.

"I-I…" Ludwig stammered, blushing but not pulling away. Feliciano giggled at how cute he was.

"It's ok, Luddy. Just go on." He smiled, sitting on the edge of the bed and leaning close to his face so they were inches apart.

Ludwig's breath hiked slightly and the blush darkened. "Feli," he said very slowly, "I missed you."

Feliciano smiled happily. He was a little disappointed that Ludwig didn't admit his affection. "I missed you too." He whispered back.

He closed his eyes happily. He nearly jumped out of his skin when a hand gently came up to cup his cheek. "Feli," Ludwig's voice whispered, "I love you."

Feliciano's heart thumped hard against his chest. "I love you too." He whispered. They both leaned forward and gently pressed their lips together, sealing their bonds once again.


A/N: Thanks for reading! Sorry for being so late! I would have been at least a day earlier but I kinda fell asleep in Study Hall. Also, sorry for any false information. Be sure to review and suggest themes for the letter E. Thank youuu and love youuu!!!
Please make suggestions for letter E! Thank you!

A: [link]
B: [link]
C- [link]
E- [link]
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"Let's play a game."

Japan looked up from his reading, glancing over Oedipus Rex at Greece, eyebrows quirked questioningly behind his glasses. Greece was gazing out steadily at the garden, his long legs stretched out before him off the edge of the veranda. It was too hot at the moment to be strolling out in the blazing afternoon sun, so the two friends had decided to while away their time at a breezy spot by the veranda.

"All right." Japan said, setting his book down, wondering what had spurred the thought in the Grecian. "What kind of game?"

"I heard America talking about this game during one of the meetings. You make hand gestures and the other person has to guess what it means." Greece said, stroking at the cat which had curled up into a tiny black and white ball in his lap. "He said you had a similar game here too, and I wanted to try it with you."

Japan nodded. He knew the game Greece was referring to; it was popular among the children, one which they could play for hours, as long as their imagination allowed them to do so.

"I used to play that guessing game as a child." He said, removing his reading glasses. "Of course, having only Pochi to play with at the beginning, it usually didn't get very far. When China-san found me, I tried to play it with him too, but it seems our gestures were never for the same things, even if the motions looked the same. It certainly caused quite a bit of confusion… and some frustration between us, to say the least."

Japan chuckled to himself softly, one hand stroking Pochi, who had seated himself quietly beside his master. Greece noticed a glimmer of nostalgia in those brown eyes and only nodded.

"I can imagine it must have." He said, leaning back on his elbows, looking sideways at his companion. "I'm quite sure my gestures should be similar to yours, or at least enough for you to guess what I mean."

At Greece last words, Japan laughed again. "There's only one way to find out, I suppose."

Greece glanced around the room, trying to think of a word. His eyes swept over a number of Japan's possessions before deciding on one and smiling, he turned back to the Asian man. He held out both his hands, his brows knitted together in mock-concentration and he moved his thumbs furiously, as if he were –

"PSP." Japan said, his nose crinkling in amusement that Greece had chosen one of his favourite toys. "You're playing the PSP."

"Right." Greece said. "Now, your turn."

Japan closed his eyes for a moment, thinking, before opening them and bringing his palms together. He tilted his head slightly, raising his closed palms to rest beside his head.

"Sleep." The Grecian replied simply, a tiny grin upon his lips. Japan nodded, and setting his hands back on his lap, waited for Greece's next move.

Greece didn't take as long to figure out the next one, and again, held up his arms before him. This time, his arms were a little bent and he looked like he was hugging a pillow, or carrying a cat or a…

"A… baby…?" Japan tried, frowning uncertainly.

Greece shook his head. "Cuddling. Something I like to do with you, especially after sex."

Japan felt his cheeks warming then and bowing his head little, asked instead, "W-When did the game change, Greece-san?"

"It's still the same game." Greece replied, his eyes warm with affection. "I just thought we could try to show how we feel through gestures as well."

The blush had not left his features but Japan nodded nonetheless. Lifting his gaze steadily to meet Greece's, he touched the back of his head, holding up a small lock of hair between his fingers so that it looked a little bit like a sprout peeking upwards towards the sky. With his other hand, he stroked Pochi, running his fingers through the soft white fur with a tenderness that Greece was all too familiar with.

This time, it was the Grecian's turn to blush.

"My hair," Greece said, rubbing the back of his neck in slight embarrassment. "You like it, even when it gets curlier during the rain."

"Or even when it's damp and tousled in the mornings." Japan murmured, his voice softer than usual as he stared fixatedly at the cat in Greece's lap. Greece felt the warmth growing within his chest, and leaned a little closer towards Japan. Lifting a hand towards his lips, he gently blew a kiss towards his companion, a mischievous gleam in those teal eyes.

Japan felt the back of his ears redden again. He did not break eye contact however and instead, stretched out his hand tentatively as if to catch a falling petal in his palm. He then brought his closed palm back towards him, and pressed it to his lips. Smiling, he uncurled his fingers and after a moment's hesitation, blew a kiss back Greece's way.

Greece chuckled appreciatively, catching the "kiss" in his palm much like how Japan did, before placing it over his chest. Then raising both hands again, he brought his fingers together to make a heart-shape.

Japan couldn't hold back the smile which played around his lips as he made to form same heart-shape with his fingers over his chest. He  wasn't quite sure when their game changed from guessing words to simply just making non-verbal signs of affection, but even he couldn't deny the childish pleasure he found in doing this with Greece.
Sweeping a lock of his hair behind his ear, he then lifted both his hands over his head, mimicking cat ears and waited for Greece to do the sa–



Japan blinked, momentarily blinded by the sudden flash and it was only after he heard a soft whirr and a click, he realized that Greece had just taken a picture of him with a Polaroid camera. He was still staring speechlessly when Greece held up the photograph.

"I like Japan, especially when he pretends to be a cat just for me." Greece said, before laughing at the look on his friend's face.

"I had thought we were playing a mimicking game." Japan huffed, slightly miffed at having his plan to make Greece copy him backfire instead.

"Oh?" Greece began, the smile still lingering upon his lips, as he leaned in further. "So what is it that you want me to copy from you now?"

Just as the words left his lips, Greece felt hands against his shoulders as he was pushed backwards down onto the floor. He felt the cat in his lap scampering off as the scent of tea and cherry blossoms hit him and he found the other man straddling him.

"Let me show you." Japan breathed, his face only inches away from Greece's, before he took the plunge and crashed their lips together.

Above them, the wind-chime tinkled lightly in the soft breeze.

Summary: In which Greece and Japan decide to play a guessing game.

Spurred from an RP with :iconcorruptedwhispers: several days back. I was supposed to be working on Act 4, but somehow... well, I hope you still enjoy this ^^;

And meh, I apologize for the abrupt ending but srsly, I'm not that good with fluff x_X
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Title: Tomodachi / Fílos
Character(s)/Pairing(s):  Greece/Japan
Rating/Genre: PG-13 / Fluff
Summary: In which Herakles tries to make amends
Note: Written as part of a challenge, for the prompt: "Giripan. Language barrier, but they maintain a relationship somehow through the use of charades, gestures, and very little words that they have learned from the other."


To be honest, he didn't think he'd be this nervous. It had seem relatively straight-forward when he had planned it all out in his head on the train, seated in-between a snoring down-on-his-luck salaryman and an old woman knitting what looked like a suspiciously like a bright-pink camisole… well, maybe everything seemed simpler in comparison to knitted pink camisoles.

Was she knitting that for her teenaged granddaughter? It looked too big for a five-year-old…

– quick wave flashed before him and –

Herakles snapped back to attention, suddenly recalling that Kiku was still standing before him, and was now wearing a slightly concerned (whether for Herakles or for himself, the Grecian can't quite tell yet) look upon his face.

"I'm sorry," Herakles began, bowing his head awkwardly in embarrassment. "Er… sumimasen… and.. ah.. watashi wa… ah…"

Kiku quirked his brows questioningly, disquiet in his eyes still and Herakles could see he was slowly backing away. He sighed, and tried again.

"Sumimasen. I'm… I'm sorry, I wish I knew how to say this in better Japanese, but I'll probably end up confusing you again, and I don't want that."

Herakles chuckled softly, turning his head away to glance at his shoes instead. He could still feel Kiku's silent gaze on him, and a huge part of him really wanted to meet that gaze. But he knew Kiku was still wary, still uncertain of him… of them. So he kept his gaze trained at his shoes, at that little pebble beside his left foot, at the tiny wildflower peeking out from in between cracks of the street gutter.

He kept his gaze on everything else except Kiku.

"I know we got off on a wrong start, and I really am sorry I said 'Chikush–' "

Kiku flinched.

"Oh shi- aaah erm, sorry. Sorry. Right… well, what I'm been meaning to say is that… well, I'm really, really sorry and I was being stupid - still probably being stupid now but - I hope we can just start over again? Because I just.. well…"

Herakles paused, fiddling with a stray thread from the hem of his shirt, before he slowly lifted his gaze again.  He offered Kiku a tiny smile, and raising both his hands, brought them together to form a heart-shape sign with his fingers.

"To… tomodachi ni natte kuremasen ka?"

Herakles didn't know what to expect or think of after he'd said it  - he'd only hoped that he hadn't embarassed himself again (or worse, embarassed or insulted Kiku).
He didn't know what to think, no, but he definitely didn't expect Kiku's expression to soften–

– and then suddenly Kiku moved –

– and Herakles felt arms embracing him around his torso and the weight of what felt like Kiku burying and hiding his face against Herakles' chest.

"Nai," Kiku murmured softly. "Nai, tha í̱thela na."


tomodachi ni natte kuremasen ka? – will you be my friend? (or the more polite form would be “would you do me the favour of being my friend?” )

nai, tha í̱thela na – yes, i would like to


This was :iconcorruptedwhispers: 's prompt for a writing-meme/challenge. It was supposed to be only a short story in three sentences, but bahhahaha it became a little drabble instead.

A problem of mine when I write Giripan: I can’t seem to stop being pretentious and throwing in Greek and Japanese phrases, and end up embarrassing myself when I get them slightly wrong. Also, if you were wondering, Herakles made the mistake of using chikushou (previously when conversing with Kiku) which roughly means “dammit!” or “shit@!” in Japanese (blame Alfred, he told Herakles that he could improve his Japanese by watching anime, yes!) It isn’t most polite thing to be spouting off, and definitely not to someone you just met, lol.

But anyway, this was written as a spur-of-the moment thing (again), so apologies if it sounds a little cluttered and incoherent as some parts. It was still written with very much love though ♥
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So, this came about due to a funny comment-conversation I had with my bro/unofficial beta-reader on LJ.

Basically, the gist of the conversation below:-


Ginny: and sometimes a cigar is just a penis i mean

Me: a penis is a cigar wait what how does that even work because that’s like weeping cock, except that this one smokes- SMOKING HOT COCK, Y/Y?




Herakles: Kiku, I am home now -smoulder!- And I am so horny and my cock is SMOKING HOT?

Kiku: Oooh MISTER Karpusi OOH -swooon- Let’s do it!

Herakles: Yes. And I will leave the cat on (my head).



ARTHUR TSUNDERE-ING (“Wot?! R-Rubbish!”)


(China: Shut up, aru!)

The end


I drew it out a couple of days again out of sheer boredom since my internet was down. And despite my fail sketching (I tweaked it with photo editor to make it look prettier T_T), I'm posting it up because :iconcorruptedwhispers: asked me too

Also because this is dedication to all my watchers/readers because you are awesome like that.

I hope you are tickled by it.... if not then, uhh, pretend it's funny or just... um, pretend it never happened. y-yeah...



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This is a list of the things that I, Francis Bonnefoy, the personification of the country France, am no longer allowed to do, no matter for what reasons. If I infringe any of these settled rules, I will have to bear the consequences, which will include lectures, physical violence and several other punishments. Furthermore, I have to give Germany the permission to straitjacket me if he considers it to be necessary. The following points are mandatory.

1.) I am not allowed to take off my clothes during a meeting.

2.) Teaming up with Korea to build "The World's Largest Chest Groping Chain" is a no-go.

3.) I should NEVER stare at Italy's butt. Both Antonio and Germany will kick my own gorgeous ass right out of the door~...

4.) I am not allowed to approach Japon by saying "Do you want to feel the difference between a tentacle monster and a real man~?" It is adorable when he blushes, but being chased around by him with a katana is no fun.

5.) If I steal Christmas from Finnland one more time, Sweden will crush me with his intimidation.

6.) Forcing Gilbert to have sex with me is a bad idea. The last time that I tried it I ended up with my kidneys being bruised, my right arm almost broken and a terroristic act at the Tour Eiffel. I was unable to walk properly for three days~...

7.) It is an even worse idea to mock Gilbert for being unable to walk properly because he had sex with me voluntarily~

8.) I am not allowed to come closer to Liechtenstein than 40 mètres. We all know what Switzerland will do if I disobey.

9.) Or if I ask him to wear a maid dress for me like back before he knew what a machine gun was. There is a reason why they speak French en Suisse~...

10.) I am definitely NOT ALLOWED to put anything into the tea of Angleterre, especially not if it is tabasco, Dr. Pepper or some greenish-brown substance I scratched from the inside of a trash can.

11.) Or bits of a rotten, dead animal.

12.) Or Antonio's cum.

13.) Or my own. Even though I don't think that he would even notice it with his degenerated taste buds~...

14.) I am not allowed, under any circumstances, to read the diary of Gilbert. Even if these circumstances mean that it lies opened on his bed and says "Hey Francis, guess what? I had Austria's Vital Regions for dessert today and they were D-E-L-I-I-C-I-O-U-S. Too bad Y-O-U will never know what they taste like!!"

15.) By far the worst thing to do is to molest Autriche afterwards. I did not know that frying pans can make this kind of scars~...

16.) I am not allowed to secretly take pictures of him sleeping, undressing, having a shower or eating a banana.

17.) Nor am I allowed to steal the pictures Hongrie took of him~

18.) It is STRICTLY PROHIBITED to make paper planes and throw them at Amérique, claiming that it was Septembre again. It is evil.

19.) The same goes for sneaking into the house of Germany at night with a black marker to - I think you can guess. I FRUKING HATE DOGS~!!

20.) During a meeting, I am not allowed to jump onto the table all of a sudden and sing "Alejandro". Regardless if Antonio and Gilbert join me or do the homoerotic background dancing. The same goes for the songs "Born This Way", "Little Girls" and "I'm Sexy And I Know It".

21.) I must not stroke the thigh of Angleterre underneath the table, even though everybody knows that he likes it~...!

22.) I am not allowed to buy Sealand on eBay. Non, not even parts of him~...

23.) I must not lure him to my house with sweets and fluffy little bunnies.

24.) Nor am I allowed to ask him if he wants to make a "funny" film with me.

25.) It is ABSOLUTELY FORBIDDEN to call Germany an Uke in public. Even though it is clear that Russe could own the Brandenburger Tor at any time~...!!

This document is going to be continued as soon as Monsieur Bonnefoy comes back from the hospital where he had to be taken after Herr Beilschmidt came to look at this draft...

Get well soon, Francis!!
A very short list :D I know some people write 50 up to 100 points, but I ran out of ideas, to be honest, and I might continue it later.

Please let me know if you spot mistakes!!

Looking at it, I feel a bit bad about Nr. 18.
If someone thinks that it's inappropriate, I will put a filter on it or delete the point.

Hetalia belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya and I don't own the songs I mentioned.

EDIT: You are insane, guys!! 100 favourites in such a short time!! Merci mille fois to all of you~!! :heart:

2ND EDIT: I feel like deleting this thing but you people seem to dig it so Imma leave it on here
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They were coming closer. He could already hear them crawl up the stairs and sneak down the hallways. He could sense their aura of blood thirst. The massive stone walls separating them from the gathering creatures felt like thin sheets of paper now. It would likely be minutes until they were here. The Italian was staring at him, his features vague and pale in the dim light of the plain white candles on the ground. America didn't mind him. He was kneeling down among the two make-shift biers on which the bodies of his brothers had been laid to rest.

He turned to his twin brother.

Canada, his name was. His always shy, always calm brother, who had always been the complete opposite of himself. If it hadn't been for the deep scratches on his face, the broken glasses and the blood-soaked bandages around his arms and chest, one could have thought he was just sleeping. His mien was peaceful and soothed, and his right arm was wrapped around a white polar bear, a stuffed toy he had been carrying around since childhood. The other hand was hanging limply towards the ground. America grabbed it. He didn't care that his fingers were cold already.

It was no use talking at him. He had made his decision.

"... Yeah, we'll be fine", he said in a blank voice, "So just get outta here and get us... reinforcements or something."
He didn't have to look up to notice Veneziano's concern for he could feel his glare like a heavy burden on his shoulders. It was not the answer Italy had wanted to hear, but America simply wished him to go without another word.

"Wait~!", Italy cried, his eyes open wide with fear and shock, "In the meantime, even you will get hurt beyond help...!"
"It's fine", America dismissed with a soft smile, gently stroking small strands of hair out of the Canadian's face. "Besides...", he turned his head to catch a short glimpse of his elder brother, "I wanna do these two a favor and stay with 'em."

Veneziano was gasping for air. "America~..."

"No, that won't do", he said with a sigh. He reluctantly stopped caressing his brother's face and looked up. It was the first time that his gaze met the Italian's, his steel blue eyes still glowing in their usual distinct and self-confident manner, even now.
"They can't hear me anymore, so I tell you in all honesty...", he slowly pulled himself to his feet, "I wanna stay with 'em. Till my very last moment. 'Cause they're both very important to me."
"And because you're going to... protect me~", Italy whispered, realization hitting him even worse than any grenade or missile could have done. America laughed hesitantly.
"Yeah. Even though I can't even move anymore", he said, pointing at his right leg where one of the beasts had wounded him, "But I'm not making a mistake. And I regret nothing..."
Veneziano was stunned by this sheer amount of strength and at the same time he was silently cursing at him for making a sacrifice such as this – his own life, the life of a friend.
"Go for it. Wish you luck", America said, smiling brightly. He tilted his head in the direction of the door that was connecting this room to the next. On the other side of it there was a hidden staircase that led directly to the floor underneath, a shortcut past the creatures. The frail Italian nodded, tears running down his cheeks, and left the room without looking back.

The door clunked shut. America closed his eyes and tried to focus. He was listening to the noises of the beasts outside, their scratching and scraping on the planks and walls. They were there.
He took a deep breath and dropped his gaze to the inanimate body of his twin brother. He gently let his arms slip under the Canadian's back and knees and lifted him up, careful not to put too much weight on his injured leg, and carried the corpse into a darkened corner of the room, where he laid him down with caution. He limped back to the other bier.

The Englishman's wounds were hard to miss. Bandages had been wrapped around half of his head to veil the horrible injuries, but even so one could tell by the unnaturally flat parts in his face that he had been hurt really badly. His left hand was covered in burns. America bit his lip. England had fought with all his force, and in the end, his own demons had swallowed him. It had been like everytime before, no way to help, no way to rescue him. It made him forget about his own powers and sent him back to his childhood days, back then, when he had been admiring the older nation silently, for his strength, his independence. But no matter how strong and impressive America had become, he had never managed to get through to England to support him. It was frustrating and almost made him come up in tears.

He laid his elder brother down next to Canada and took a seat between the two of them, back rested against the wall. He pulled the two bodies up to himself and held them in a firm but gentle embrace. It was a moment full of warmth, a loving touch in a place filled with death, pain and darkness.

A thud was sounding from outside, like a heavy weight being thrown against the door.

They wouldn't get him. Not if he could avoid it.
He reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulled out a gun.

Another blow against the door and big scales of wood were hurtling around.

America opened his mouth and put the muzzle between his lips.
He pulled the trigger without any regrets.
"I’m so sick and tired of the
The taste of tears
The sting of pain
The smell of fear
The sounds of crying
As you're standing at the edge of your life
What do you remember?
Was it all you wanted?

I'm trying to earn a set of feathery wings
I wish I could protect you here
Oh, please don't cry
Now smile as you're standing
At the edge of your life
Your troubles are over
Mine are just beginning
I'm trying to earn a set of feathery wings
To take me away from here
Its me you leave behind..."

- Voltaire "Feathery Wings" [link]

I don't own Hetalia or HetaOni.
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Watch out fer dem Russians.

hetalia (c) :iconhimaruyaplz:
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America was playing video games, as usual. This time though, it was 1 in the morning, way past his bedtime. 'Screw my rules,' he had thought, 'I'm older now.' Now, he was waiting for the game to load a level

"Shit!"  America had no patience. "Might as well go get some food to waste some time." He put the controller down and walked to his kitchen. Opening his refridgerator lazily, he reached out into the cooling device to grab a burger.


"HOLY COW!" America shouted, slamming the refridgerator door. "MY BURGERS HAVE DISSAPERED!"

He ran franticly around the house, checking every corner and drawer. The
American fell to the ground, crying. Tony came out of his bedroom and placed his hand on America's shoulder. "I know that feel, bro." He said in his total alien voice.

After America had a tantrum, he decided that he go looking outside. It was likely that someone had took his burgers out of the house into a secret hiding place.


The dark alley was nothing but dark in the midst of the night. America felt a presence among him, but did not care. Nobody could hurt the hero. Suddenly, he fell into a hole. He yelled as Texas flew off his face and into the blackness surrounding him. 'Great,' he thought, 'Now I cannot see a thing.'

He landed after falling for a long period of time. With a poof he was covered in flour. "What is this?" He questioned. America looked around with his blurry vision and noticed he smelled beef. He saw blobs of red and yellow.

Suddenly, somebody landed on top of him, and somebody else landed on top of the other guy. "I can see you!" The voice yelled, running after nothing. America realized this was Chuck Norris's voice. He got up and started running like a drunk with Chuck.

"Dude, what is going on?"  America said.

"Ninjas." Chuck Norris replied. "They have stole your burgers."

"They must die." The Hero ran faster in the direction Chuck Norris was going.

He grabbed a red blob from the ground. It was a ketchup bottle! America squirted it in maany directions, hoping the tomato stuff would help him find the ninja. Finally, America heard a scream.

"KETCHUP! KETCHUP IN MY EYE!" He had caught the ninja! America ran over to where he had heard the ninja and stabbed him in the eye with the ketchup.

"How dare you steal the Hero's burgers." He said madly. "You, dear enemy, are going to jail."

The police came out because they react to America's voice. The locked up the ninja and America got his burgers back.

He did find Texas, but it was cracked. America couldn't care less. By the time he got home, he had a warm midnight snack and his game was finished loading!



Well, here.


I might do something like this with the other characters. Like with England: In Which England Skips Tea Time. Or France: In Which France Forgets his Rose, and so on.
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                Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

                Japan slapped a hand on his alarm clock. It was six in the morning; time for school. He dragged himself off of him bed on the floor. Going to his closet, he pulled out his academy uniform and pulled it on. He could hear the bumping of Taiwan and Vietnam running around to get ready for school. With his uniform on and his bag ready, he stepped out of his room. At that moment, Korea zipped by with Taiwan following him.

                “Give me back my hair clip!” She cried.

                “Ha ha ha ha ha ha,” Korea cackled.

                Japan ignored them and headed towards the kitchen. When he entered, the stove was on and he could smell food cooking, but he didn’t see China. His questions were answered with a gong and Korea yelping in pain. China soon entered, holding his wok. He too wore a uniform.

                “Good morning, aru,” he said,” Breakfast is almost ready.”

                Japan nodded and sat down at the table. Vietnam was the next one to come in. Then Hong Kong and Thailand stumbled in. Taiwan and Korea were the last to enter the kitchen. Korea was still rubbing his head.

                “The bus will be here soon,” Hong Kong said,” We have to go now.”

                “Eat your breakfast first, aru!” China scolded,” Food help a healthy body grow, aru.”

                Hong Kong rolled his eyes. As soon as China set the plates of food on the table, everyone stuff it in their mouths quickly. Japan managed to finish his plate first and helped China get the dishes into the sink. Then there was a mad run to the door to put on shoes. After all the dishes were cleared, Japan also ran over to the front door.

                “Hey Japan!” Korea shouted before he headed out the door.

                Japan looked over his shoulder just in time to see Korea lung towards him. Before he could speak, two long arm wrapped around his body tightly.

                “What is the meaning of this?!” Japan demanded.

                “Is there something wrong with hugging my bro?” Korea teased.

                Japan gave him a hard gab in the ribs and walked out the door. He walked quickly towards the bus stop where he was relieved to see that the bus did not come by yet. Only Liechtenstein and Switzerland were standing there.

                “Good morning,” he greeted.

                “Guten Morgen,” Liechtenstein said to him sweetly.

                Japan nodded over to Switzerland and stood on the other side of the bus stop. He heard the footsteps of his siblings approaching and…snickering. Japan turned around to see what was so funny but saw nothing.

                “Why are you guys laughing?” He finally asked.

                “Nothing! It’s nothing!” Hong Kong said quickly, smiling.

                Very strange, Japan thought.

                “Um…Japan?” Liechtenstein said.

                Japan turned back around. In a blink, Liechtenstein embraced him into a big hug.

                “WOAH!” Japan shouted.

                He quickly pulled her off of him and gently pushed her away. His siblings behind him started cracking up.

                “Will you please tell me why you invaded my personal space?” Japan gasped.


                Liechtenstein immediately stopped talking and glanced behind him.

                “Um, it’s nothing really. I just thought you needed a hug,” she said sweetly.

                She then turned and rejoined her brother.

                That was weird, Japan thought.

                They only had to wait a couple more minutes before the bus finally came. Japan let everyone else pass him before entering the bus himself. He sat in the first available seat across from England.

                “Morning,” he said tiredly.

                “Good morning,” Japan said,” Are you ready for the Spanish quiz?”

                “Crap! I forgot all about that,” England moaned,” Oh well, I’ll just wing it.”

                Japan nodded then looked out the window.

                Oh. It looks like the cherry blossoms are blooming, he thought. How wonderful.

                The spring scenery went by quickly as the bus drove from stop to stop. Eventually the bus stopped at the academy where the student got off. Japan got off last and tagged along with England.

                “So, how are you?” England asked.

                Japan was about to answer but before he could he felt someone grab a hold of him from behind. As the person’s grip tightened, Japan got a strong whiff of cat hair.

                “Greece?” He asked.

                “Yeah,” Greece whispered into his ear.

                England walked on for a meter before noticing Japan was missing.

                “What the bloody hell!” He shouted.

                “Greece, could you please let go?” Japan asked.

                “I’m sorry,” Greece apologized,” You just look so cuddly now I just wanted to-“

                The two were jolted backwards and Greece was separated from Japan.

                “Quit hugging my buddy you little brat!” Turkey shouted at ear splitting level.

                Japan backed up with England again. Turkey was holding Greece by the collar tightly.

                “Let go,” Greece demanded softly,” I was just talking to him.”

                “You’re lying; you were telling him lies behind my back, weren’t you?” Turkey hissed.

                England tugged on Japan’s shoulder and they bother left while the other two started to brawl. Japan looked around cautiously to the other students getting their things out of their lockers for class.

                “Hey England, is there something going on today that I didn’t know about?” He finally asked.

                “Not that I know of,” England answered,” Why?”

                “Everyone seems different today,” Japan replied,” I can’t explain it but it seem that things are different today.”

                “Your just be paranoid.”

                “Hey Japan!”

                Japan flinched as America pulled him into a big bear hug. He squirmed around to get out of the younger nations powerful grip.

                “Please let me go America,” Japan begged.

                “Aw, why?” America asked.

                “America, let him go before you squeeze him to death,” England said.

                America sighed and released Japan. England helped him up and brushed off his jacket.

                “Uh, Japan,” he said curiously,” Did you that you had a-“

                England’s voice became muffled and his disappeared into the crowd.

                “England?” Japan asked,” Where’d he go?”

                “I dunno,” America said.

                “Hm,” Japan sighed,” Now tell me why you did that to me.”

                “Didn’t you hear dude? It’s ‘hug an Asian’ day,” America replied,” It’s all over Facebook.”

                That makes sense, Japan thought.

                “Well, can you please tell everyone that I would appreciate not being hugged?” He asked.


                With that, America half walked and half jogged away. Japan sighed and turned to go to his locker. That’s when he ran into a tall figure. Looking up his saw Russia’s smiling face.

                “Good morning Japan. You look well today,” Russia said.

                “Um, thank you,” Japan whimpered.

                Russia smiled even bigger. Then he extended both of his arms around Japan’s small frame. Japan ran away as fast as he could in the direction of his locker. Other countries gave him funny looks. Finally, he made it to his locker next to the water fountain. He reached up and turned the knob of his lock to his combination.

                “Good morning Japan!~” Italy called out.

                Japan quickly backed up against the locker.

                “What’s bugging you?” Italy asked curiously.

                “Just…please don’t touch me today,” Japan begged.

                “Ve…okay,” Italy said.

                “Thank you. I’ve already had enough people touching me. It has been very traumatic for me.”

                “Oh Japan!”

                Three male class mates crowded around Japan in a big group hug. Japan recognized the silver, gold, and chocolate colored hair.

                “Ah!” He yelped, trying to escape.

                “What’s wrong, can’t take my awesomeness?” Prussia teased.

                “I think he needs some air,” Spain said.

                “But everyone needs a bit of big brother’s love,” France said.

                “Uh…okay,” Spain said.

                “Please! I beg of you! Let me go!” Japan shouted.

                “That’s enough!” Germany shouted.

                The trio quickly broke up and ran down the hall. Japan fell to the floor, panting.

                “Are you okay Japan?” Germany asked.

                “Yes, I’m fine,” Japan said,” I just want to know why everyone has been getting into my personal space. It is very irritating.”

                Germany helped him up. Japan brushed off his coat and returned to his locker, opening it.

                “Uh, Japan,” Germany said.


                “You do realize you have a piece of paper with ‘hug me’ written on it taped to your back right?”

                Japan’s eyes widened.

                “What?” He screamed.

                He clawed his own back until he touched paper and tore it off. It did say ‘hug me’ and the hand writing look very familiar.

                “Korea!” He shouted.

                Korea laughed from a safe distance along with America and Prussia.

                “Dude, that was so totally awesome!” America said,” His expression is priceless!”

                “You were so right, it was better to do that on him!” Prussia cackled.

                Japan felt his hands begin to shake. He slowly started walking over to the three. Korea noticed him first.

                “Uh oh, time to go,” he said.

                The three ran off with Japan close on their heels.


                “Good grief,” Germany sighed.

Yes, Japan got a few extra hugs hugs at school today. I just had to do this. Gee, all this writing makes me wonder what Korea did to England to keep him quiet. ;) I think you guys can use your imagination on this one. FINALLY! A story with the BTT in it! I have got to write more on these guys.
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                “Please leave a message after the beep.”


                “Hey Germany, it’s Italy. I was wondering if you wanted to come and have Christmas eve at my house tomorrow. We can open presents, eat turkey, and all sorts of fun stuff. Be here tomorrow at six.”

                “Please leave a message after the beep.”


                “Hey Japan, you want to come to my house for Christmas eve. I know you’re not a Christian but we can still have fun. Come but my house at six tomorrow. See you then. Bye bye.”

.  .  .

                Germany walked through the Italian streets with a wreath around one arm and two small bags in the other. He watched the numerous Italian families and couples walk down the street. Lights were strung everywhere and music was being played loudly.

                “How can he be so festive at a time of war?” He asked himself.

 He looked down a street to the left and saw Japan walking with some packages in one hand and a piece of paper in the other hand. Germany walked up to him. When he got close Japan looked up at him.

“Oh, are you going to Italy’s house too?” He asked.

“Yeah,” Germany replied.

“Can you take me there?” Japan asked,” I’m afraid Italy’s directions confuse me.”

“Yeah, it’s this way.”

Germany led Japan down the festive streets to the house he had visited some many times. He knocked once on the front doors. There was the sound of scrambling and feet running on a hardwood floor. The door opened quickly to Italy.

                “You made it! Yeah!” He cheered,” Come on in guys.”

                Germany and Japan entered the warm house. Green and red decorations hung everywhere and the smell of a Christmas feast was coming from the kitchen.

                “I was up all night with the decorations,” Italy explained.

                “Where is your brother?” Germany asked,” He’s usually around here.”

                “Oh, he’s with Spain right now,” Italy said.

                “Where do I put these?” Japan asked, motioning to his packages.

                “Over here,” Italy said.

                He pointed into the living room where a bare evergreen tree stood.

                “I thought we could decorate the tree together,” Italy said,” You can put your things on the coffee table for now.”

                Japan placed his packages on the small coffee table.

                “I brought this wreath,” Germany said.

                “We’ll hang it over here,” Italy said.

                He pointed to a hook on the back of the front door that seemed to be put there for that specific reason. Germany hung the green wreath on the hook while Japan helped Italy unpack the Christmas ornaments. Japan pulled out an ornament of a manger with Mary, Joseph, and the baby Jesus.

                “What’s this one about?” He asked.

                “That’s the manger scene,” Italy explained,” That’s where Mary gave birth to Jesus.”

                “I’m afraid I’m not familiar with Christian stories,” Japan admitted.

                “Christmas was said to be the day Jesus was born,” Germany said,” Mary, the virgin mother, was told by an angel that she will give birth to a savior.”

                “So she and her husband Joseph went to Bethlehem to give birth to the baby,” Italy continued,” They couldn’t find anywhere else to stay but they found a stable to rest in. That was where she gave birth.”

                “Interesting,” Japan said,” But how can Mary be pregnant if she’s a virgin?”

                “I-it’s complicated,” Germany stuttered.

                Germany picked up an ornament and hanged in on the nearest branch. Italy hanged up two more. Japan examined the manger scene a little longer before hanging in on a branch. They took fifteen minutes to hang ornaments and tinsel on the green branches. When they were done Italy stepped back to have a look at it.

                “It looks so pretty!” He exclaimed.

                “May I take a picture?” Japan asked.

                He pulled out a camera from what seemed like nowhere.

                “Sure,” Italy replied.

                Japan set his camera up on a nearby mantle while Italy and Germany kneeled by the tree. Germany was on one knee while Italy sat on his knees. Japan set the timer and joined them by the tree on one knee. The camera clicked three seconds then flashed a light. Japan got up to check the picture.

                “It looks good,” he reported.

                They heard a small ding come from the kitchen.

                “Ooo! The turkey is done!” Italy squealed.

                He ran into the kitchen. Japan took a few more pictures of the tree while Germany followed after the excited Italy. The minute he entered the kitchen Italy removed a large, juicy turkey from the oven. On the counter there were bowls of delicious food. Italy placed the turkey on the table that was set for three. He rushed back into the kitchen to bring the food on the table. Germany followed him and took a few of the bowls to the table. When they had finished, Japan came in. He eyes widened at the gigantic feast. He raised the camera and snapped a picture of the table.

                “Come, sit,” Italy ordered, pulling out a chair.

                “I don’t think I can eat most of this,” Japan said.

                “You can take some food back home if you’d like,” Italy suggested.

                Japan set his camera on the counter and took the seat that Italy offered him.

                “Germany, do you want to carve the turkey?” Italy asked.

                “I suppose,” Germany replied.

                Italy sat in his chair across from Japan, letting Germany take the seat that was closest to the turkey. Germany picked up the large fork and knife Italy placed there for him and cut into the meaty, dead bird. He neatly cut out slices which he then dished out to his friends then to himself. Italy reached from under his chair and pulled up a wine bottle.

                “I’ve been saving this for a special occasion,” he said.

                He opened it and poured it into his glass then Japan’s and Germany’s.

                “Thank you,” Japan said.

                “Now it’s time for grace,” Italy said,” Do you want to do it Germany?”

                “Go right on ahead,” Germany said.

                Italy smiled and clasped his hands together. Germany did the same, bowing his head. Japan looked between Germany and Italy, no knowing what to do. Germany looked over to him.

                “It’s a custom,” he explained.

                “Ah,” Japan said, bringing his hands together.

                Italy cleared his throat then began the prayer.

        “Our Father, which art in heaven, hallowed be thy Name. Thy Kingdom come. Thy will be done in earth, as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread. And forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive them that trespass against us. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. For thine is the kingdom, the power, and the glory, forever and ever. Amen.

                “Amen,” Germany said.

                “Amen?” Japan questioned.

                “Right! Let’s eat,” Italy said.

                They passed around the bowls of food so that they could each have some of it.

                “Pardon me Germany,” Japan said,” But what does ‘amen’ mean?”

                “It’s just something we say at the end of prayers,” Germany explained,” I don’t know the exact meaning of it.”

                “Ah,” Japan said.

                They ate, occasionally talking to one another. When they finished, each one of them felt tired.

                “That was a good meal,” Germany said.

                “Hai, I agree,” Japan said.

                “I’m glad you guys liked it,” Italy said,” You can sit in the living room while I clean this up.”

                “You sure you don’t want help?” Germany asked.

                “I’m positive,” Italy said.

                Germany and Japan lazily got out of the kitchen chairs while Italy started to clear the table away.

                “I didn’t know that you eat so much at Christmas,” Japan commented.

                “Ja, it’s something we do around here,” Germany said.

                They sat on the couch, listening to the ruckus Italy was making in the kitchen. Japan looked back over to the tree.

                “It’s very pretty,” he said.

                “Ja,” Germany said,” I missed doing this.”

                “I must admit that I can’t see you doing something like this on your own.”

                “My brother and I would do this every year when we were little. We would decorate a tree and open presents. It feels weird to do it now though.”

                “It does feel strange. But it’s fun to do this with others.”


                Italy entered the living room with two packages in his arms.

                “You’re done already?” Germany asked.

                “I finished super quickly so we can open presents real quickly,” Italy said.

                If only he were this diligent every day, Germany though.

                “Let’s sit on the floor,” Italy suggested, sitting down on the floor.

                Germany and Japan eased themselves from the couch to the floor. Italy handed a the thinner of the packages to Japan and the smaller one to Germany.

                “Open mine first,” he said.

                Japan and Germany took their presents and opened the

                “Oh my,” Japan said, admiring the painting of the Japanese countryside he received,” Thank you very much.”

                “You’re welcome,” Italy beamed.

                Germany tore open the paper on his package and stared blankly at the bright emerald green sweater that was inside.

                “Do you like it?” Italy asked,” I don’t know if I made it the right size.”

                Germany held it up to see. It looked a little bit big.

                “I think it will be fine,” Germany said.

                “Try it on,” Italy said.

                “I’ll try it on later.”

                “No. Now. So that I know it fits.”

                Germany sighed. He removed his green shirt and pulled on the sweater.

                “There. It looks so pretty on you,” Italy said.

                “Uh, yeah,” Germany said.

                “I have some presents for you two as well,” Japan said.

                He grabbed his packages on the coffee table and handed them to Germany and Italy. Germany pulled back the paper to a trunk. He opened the trunk to a samurai sword.

                “Wow, cool!” He exclaimed,” Thanks.”

                Japan nodded at him.

                “Yeah!” Italy cheered, holding up the stuffed kitty that was inside of his package.

                He gave Japan a huge hug which Japan stiffened in. Germany grabbed the two bags he came in with.

                “I suppose it’s time for mine,” he said, handing each of his friends a bag.

                Italy pulled out the contents in his bag. It was a pendent much like the one Germany wore all the time.

                “Oh thank you Germany!” He said.

                Japan opened his bag to the same little pendent.

                “I had a few around,” Germany explained,” And I was so busy that I couldn’t go buy a nice present.”

                “It’s okay,” Japan said,” It’s like a friendship pendent.”

                “Yeah, we can be like triplets,” Italy said.

                “I will go get my camera for a picture,” Japan said.

                Japan went into the kitchen. Italy followed him with Germany following him. Japan was winding up his camera when they entered. They stood in the doorway to wait for him. Italy just happened to look up then his eyes widened.

                “Oh!” He gasped.

                Germany looked up. A small, familiar bundle of leaves was hanging directly above their heads.

                “Oh no, you can’t be serious,” Germany said.

                He heard Italy whimper a little bit. He glanced down to find that Italy was getting on his tip toes. Germany sighed a little bit before bending down a little and giving Italy a kiss on the cheek.


                Germany quickly looked over to Japan. His eyes were wide in shock and his camera trembled in his hands.

                “Did you take a picture?!” Germany screamed.

                “I’m sorry!” Japan apologized,” I was surprised to see you kiss Italy that I jumped.”

                “It wasn’t a kiss, it-,” Germany couldn’t think of anything to say.

                “Come on, let’s go back into the living room to take pictures,” Italy suggested.

                He grabbed onto Japan’s arm and led him back into the living room. Germany took a few minutes to stop blushing before he followed his friends back to their decorated tree.

The Axis boys wish you a very merry Christmas. Yes, I had to write this.
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                A few clouds blocked the sun momentarily as Japan walked down the dirt road heading towards Greece’s house. He still wore his business suit but had the white coat unbuttoned. In his hands he carried a suitcase that he didn’t have time to take back home. When the sun came back out he squinted.

                I can’t believe there were no other buses to get there, he thought. I’m going to have to ask Greece for some water and a change of clothes when I get there. I feel so gross.

                After some time he did manage to cross the border into the city limits of Athens. Now he could see the ruins and homes of the civilians. Before he got too much farther he let out a big yawn.

    So tired, I shouldn’t have stayed up so late last night, he thought.

                Finding a large tree, he sat under the shade to rest. Gradually he sat down at the base of the tree and removed his coat to cool down.

                “I’ll just rest here for a little bit then head right over,” he said to himself.  

                He sat up against the bark and looked forward. Some people passed by to get into the city for a good spot to watch the firework show that would happen that night. Japan patted his pocket where Greece’s handwritten invite was. He closed his eyes for a minute, imagining how good the night air would feel. Before he knew it, his mind had slipped into sleepy unconsciousness.

.  .  .

                Greece paced around his mother’s old ruins panicked. It had been two hours since Japan said he would arrive and the fireworks were going to start in an hour. Earlier he had sent some of his cats out to try and find him but none of them had returned yet. He looked over to where he set up a blanket to sit on and some snack for them to eat.

                “Maybe…he was busy…..or still getting ready,” he said to the cat that was on his head,” Or maybe….that bastard Turkey turned him against me.”

                The cat meowed in response. Greece paced some more when a few of the cats he sent out ran over. He stopped where he was and kneeled down to it.

                “Did you find him?” He asked.

                The cats nodded their heads. Relieved, Greece sighed deeply.

                “Please..take me to him,” he said.

                The cats ran into the direction they came from with Greece following close behind. He ran down the road, passing many groups of people, to where the city limits were. Finally they made it to a tree off the road where Japan lay sleeping. Dozens of other cats surrounded him, meowing.

                “Good,” Greece sighed,” He’s okay.”

                He knelt down beside the Asian as the cats cleared to let him in.

                “Japan…wake up,” he whispered.

                However, Japan continued to sleep. Greece huffed in minor frustration. He then picked the other country up like a child and stood up.

                “Can you get that?” He asked the cats, motioning to the suitcase.

                Two cats managed to push the suitcase to the road then used their teeth to pick it up. Together they all walked down the road towards the city.

.  .  .

                “-an…Japan…Wake up Japan.”

                With the sound of his name, Japan opened his eyes a little bit. When his vision finally focused he found Greece hovering inches above him.

                “AH!” He screamed.

                He sat up quickly, hitting his head against Greece’s head. Both of them groaned in pain. Japan then looked around to find himself in the middle of one of the ruins. Dozens of cats surrounded them.

                “What is going on? How did I get here?” Japan demanded,” Why where you invading my personal space like that?”

                “My cats…they found you sleeping under a tree,” Greece explained,” So we brought you here…so you wouldn’t miss the fireworks.”

                “Oh,” Japan said,” My apologies.”

                “It’s okay.”

                Greece then reached inside of the basket next to him and pulled out some bread.

                “Here…you must be hungry,” he said.

                Japan graciously took the bread and immediately started eating it. He was amazed by how hungry he was. Once he had finished that bread he turned to look at Greece.

                “I’m sorry for being so late,” he began,” The meeting went longer than I expected and I missed the bus to get here.”

                “It’s okay Japan…as long as you made it,” Greece replied,” By the way….where are you staying?”

                Before Japan could answer a red firework shot up in the air and exploded. The countries looked up to watch as the show began. Over and over a firework was fired, leaving a beautiful color pattern in the night sky.

                “These are wonderful,” Japan praised,” There’s like the fireworks I see at Hong Kong’s place a lot.”

                “Yes they are cool….but not as cool as you,” Greece said.


                In complete silence, they watched the fireworks in the sky as the cats meowed in amazement. 

EDIT: Yes, this piece was on my edit list. I was considering doing a before and after kind of thing but I realized that I really went off the fan wagon for this one. I tried to make it way more romantic that it really should have been. I'm so glad it didn't get too popular.
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Warning! Personified countries! Human names used! Bad spelling!

"Bruder." Was Germany's warning tone.

"What? I won't!"

"Don't call him that!"

"Kesesesese." Prussia chuckled. Ludwig sighed.

"After breakfast I'll be meeting up with the troops, ple-" Ludwig started.

"NO!" Feliciano yelled, running into the room and tackling Ludwig in a hug.

"So much for that..." Gil said quietly before slinking out of the room.

"You can't go off to war! You just can't!" Feli cried.

"Italy, I need to go. I need to protect my people." Ludwig stated.

"Then take me with you!"

"No, I don't need you getting hurt."

"I'm not letting you go! Especially not alone!"


"What if you don't come back?! What if you're killed?!"

"I'm not going to die. I'll be fine."

"No! I won't let you!"

"Feliciano." Ludwig said sternly, using the nation's human name to get him to listen, but Italy wouldn't have it.

"No! Not again! If you're going off to fight, then I'm going too!" Feli crossed his arms and glared up at his ally and best friend. Ludwig sighed, knowing that he couldn't stop the Italian from coming along this time
Chpt 3 is now up. And we still don't know who's attacking Germany! Oh, who could it be, who could it be? Anyways, hope you enjoy this chapter (Prussia: of awesomeness.)! Please fav and/or comment!

Disclaimer! I do not own Hetalia, the characters nor the pic!

Chpt 2: [link]

Chpt 4: [link]
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Warning! Personified countries! Human names used! Bad spelling!

Prussia paced in front of the door. Every now and then he'd pause, growl and continue pacing. He was cursing the man who's door it was under his breath. No matter how long it had been since their last fight, the Prussian was still pissed at the man for his victory over him. Finally the door opened to show Hungary standing there.

"Gil? What do you want?" Hungary asked.

"What are you doing here, Liz?!" Gil demanded.

"Roderich asked me to come listen to his new piece. And you?" Liz replied.

"I have something important to discuss with him."

"Such as?"

"Look, this is actually something important so let me in!" Gil snapped. Liz blinked before stepping out of the way.

"But if you do anything to Roderich-" Liz started.

"I know, I know, you'll kick my ass." Gil waved her off, stepping into the house. Gil heard piano music drifting through the house and strode to Roderich's piano room and slammed open the door. "Oi! Austria! We need to talk!"

Roderich tried to ignore him and continue his piece. Gilbert rolled his eyes and walked over in anger. Liz watched closely, ready to throw Gil out if he did anything wrong.

"It's about the Holy Roman Empire!" Gil said. The beautiful music stopped abrubtly and Roderich looked up at Gil.

"What about the Holy Roman Empire?" He asked calmly.

"That got your attention, huh?"

"Answer me or I will use Stairway to Heaven to express my anger." Roderich stated. Gil laughed. Roderich glowered. "What about the Holy Roman Empire?!"

"Italy knows." Gil replied seriously. A look of shock flittered across Austria's face.

"Well, we knew they'd figure it out eventually. So, are they together? Continuing from where they left off?"

"No, Italy went with Germany to fight."

"Fight? Who're they fighting?" Roderich asked. Gil told him. Austria slammed his hands against the keys of his piano.
Alright, chpt 5 is up and ready to read. So, I still left you with a cliffy, sorry. But we get to see Austria and Hungary! Yay! Lol, anyways, hope you enjoy! Please fav and/or comment!

[Edit] America: Stairway? Denied!

Disclaimer! The plot is all I own!

Chpt 4: [link]

Chpt 6: [link]
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Warning! Personified countries! Human names used! Bad spelling!

"Until we meet again, my Italy!" Holy Rome called out to little Chibitalia. As young Italy watched his first love start marching off, he truly hoped that it would be true.

Months passed and Chibitalia heard no word from Holy Rome. Then, one day, Hungary pulled her Ita-chan to the side. Austria was discussing business with an oddly silver-haired young man.

"Ita-chan, I... I have some news... news of Holy Rome..." Miss Hungary began, trying to swallow her tears.

"Really?! Is he returning soon?! How is he?! Is the war over?!" Chibitalia asked, eyes shining with hope. That's when Miss Hungary's tears started to fall.

"I-ita-chan... Holy R-rome... is dead..." She whispered. Chibitalia's eyes grew as wide as saucers as the news slowly sank in. Horror caught Italy by the hair.

"NOOOOOO!!!!!" Feliciano cried, bolting upright in the bed, tears flowing freely down his cheeks. Beside him, Ludwig burst from sleep into action, surveying the room with his gun to see who would dare harm his cowardly ally whilst they slept. There was no one in the room but Feliciano's tears still ran. Slowly, Germany lowered his gun, eyes still scanning the room before he finally realized that it was a dream that had startled Italy awake. Ludwig sighed and put the gun on the bedside table.

"Italy? What's wrong?" The blonde asked, but the other just shook his head, sobbing as quietly as he could. When the question was repeat, it was answered with more tears and headshakes. Ludwig reached out awkwardly to hold Feliciano but was pushed away. Trying to hide his hurt, Ludwig nodded, muttered "okay", laid back down and closed his eyes.

After several minutes, the blonde's breathing deepened and leveled. Slowly, Italy pulled his head from his hands and laid down next to Germany. He curled up beside the other nation, arms going around Germany's waist, and buried his head into Germany's chest. Tears still ran down his cheeks as he fell back to sleep.

When Italy had finally fallen fast asleep, Doitsu's eyes opened. He watched the sleeping Italian quietly for a while before sleep started to beckon him once more. Ludwig wrapped his arms around Feliciano before letting sleep pull him back under.

'RING!RING!RING!' Germany's eyes snapped open at the sound of the phone. He groaned and groped the bedside table for the wretched device with his right arm. Whomever it was, they were deadly close to going to voicemail. After another minute of blindly searching, Ludwig managed to grab the phone, put it to his ear and answered with a grunt.

Ludwig's eyes widened when he heard what the captain on the line was telling him. His eyes flickered over to the sleeping Italian, whom's arms were wrapped around him still. He would try to keep Feliciano out of this one.

"Sir? Are you still there?" the captian asked.

"Yes, I'm still here." He answered.

"What are the orders, sir?" She inquired.

"Gather your best troops and meet the invasion at the border."

"Yes sir."
Here's a fic that I came up with because of a video on YouTube. So far I've had no issue writing on this one, but I won't promise that it will not happen eventually. Anyways, hope you enjoy! Please fav and/or comment!

Disclaimer! I do not own Hetalia nor the characters!

Chpt 2: [link]
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"Okay Italy…You go first."

Italy and Germany sat across from each other at Germany's small kitchen table. For the first time in a long time, Germany had company on New Year's eve. Secretly, there was no one he'd rather be spending the holiday with. He was equally glad that Japan had been busy, so that there was no one else there to divert the Italian's attention.

Between them on the table was a glass of ice cold water and a bowl of molten metal. According to German tradition, you were to pour one drop of the metal into the water, and whatever shape it became was a prediction of your future. Germany hadn't done it since he was a very small child, but he wanted to do something to occupy Italy.

Italy took the bowl in gloved hands and poured a drop from it into the water. They both watched intently as the grey liquid morphed around.

"It's a boat, I think," Italy said, fascinated.

"Gut, zhat means you'll travel," Germany said, although he couldn't make out a boat in the blob Italy was staring at.

"Veeeee, I'll take you with me when I do!" Italy bubbled.

Germany poured himself his own cup and repeated the ritual.

"Germany…I think it's in the shape of a heart!"

"Vhat??" Germany said sharply, squinting at the cup. "Zhat is not a heart."

"Yes it is!" Italy said excitedly. "It's a heart, you can see the two sides of it here, look."

"Zhat looks more like a boot to me. Maybe I'll go off to war again."

"It's definitely a heart. Maybe it means you'll fall in love!"

Germany flushed, looking pale. "I vill not fall in love," he said harshly, eyes directed downward.

He didn't look Italy in the eye for the rest of the night.

* * * * *

Apparently the champagne had been a bit too much for England.

France had let him have as much as he wanted, against his better judgment. It was only champagne, right? France couldn't feel it's effect at all.

But already the Englishman had settled himself in France's lap, planting kisses up and down his jaw. Not that France minded. In the slightest. He was just used to having to force his Angleterre let him show any ounce of affection. And he was long past expecting a positive response.

England's fingers became slightly tangled in his long hair as he slurred on about what pretty blue eyes France had.

"They're so…sparkly. Like cider, you know Francis? You know? Hey, pour me another glass. Blimey, they're so blue…"

France smiled. He should get England drunk more often.

As the grandfather clock in the other room struck twelve. France grinned wider and tightened his grip around England before lifting him up, bridal style, and carrying him over to the doorway where the mistletoe was hung. England kept gushing on, until France dipped him down and trapped his lips in a sweeping kiss.

England froze stiffly for a moment, then began to work his lips hungrily over France's.

After a couple moments of this, France pulled away slightly to pant.

England looked at him blankly. "What do you think you're doing, frog? Don't stop."

France laughed as his Angleterre took his wrist and began to tug him down the hallway to their bedroom, tripping slightly.

* * * * *

"Midnight!" Sealand shouted along with the announcer, who was standing in the Skansen Open-Air Museum. As he began to read the New Year's verse, Sealand turned to his adoptive parents. "Can we pick the futures now?"

When they didn't answer he asked tentatively "Papa? Mama?"

But to his dismay, both Finland and Sweden were passed out, fast asleep on the couch behind him, Sweden with one arm wrapped lovingly around the waist of his "wife."

* * * * *

Lithuania sat next to Poland on the couch nervously. He'd been trying to find his voice all afternoon, but felt his voice frozen in his throat every time Poland turned over and made a comment about the shows they were watching. Lithuania would fake a small smile and say something affirmative in response, and Poland would smile back, pulling himself closer to the Lithuanian. And that just made Lithuania's heart beat faster.

Now it was nearing midnight, and Lithuania was running out of time. The Polish shows were starting to blur together as he tried to make sense of what all the people were trying to say.

He took a deep breath. "Poland."

Those bright green eyes turned to face him. "Yeah?"

Lithuania almost lost it again. "I…uh…"

Poland blinked.

"Poland…in my country, on New Year's, we spend a lot of time thinking about what's going to happen in the next year…if we're going to meet someone…if we'll fall in love…"

Lithuania gulped. "Lenkija," he said, momentarily switching to his native language. He untangled himself from Poland and got to the carpet, kneeling. "I love you. Will I…get married this year?" He pulled a small velvet box from his pocket and offered it to the blonde.

"Oh my gosh!" Poland said, taking the box, squealing. "Totally!"

"Really?" Lithuania said, looking relieved.

"Duh! Of course!" He beamed down at Lithuania and pulled him into a tight kiss. "I totally love you too!" he said when the brunette pulled away breathlessly.

"And like, look at this ring! I totally have the perfect thing to go with it!" He leapt up from the couch and ran down the hall to comb his closet.

Lithuania smiled lovingly after him.

The next morning, he closed his eyes and pulled a strip of paper from underneath his pillow. He smiled at the name written on it.

Lithuania had written Poland's name on every one.

* * * * *

"You want me to do what with those grapes?"

The night had gone fairly well up until that point. Spain had let him have a relatively low-key New Year's, making him traditional Italian zampone with, of course, a side of tomatoes and pasta. The taste of the stuffed pig reminded him slightly of his childhood before the Spaniard had taken him in. He even let Romano skip out on the fireworks show they usually attended because, Romano suspected, Spain had realized his Italian wasn't a huge fan of all the fanfare. But Spain would not give up his grapes.

"You have to swallow them all at midnight. One each second," Spain explained again excitedly. "It's considered good luck."

"If it's good luck, why do I have to do it? Do it yourself," Romano said, annoyed.

"Because I want you to have my luck!" Spain grinned. Romano crossed his arms.

Spain checked his watch. "Eleven fifty-nine!" he shouted, and pulled Romano over to the couch, beside which twelve grapes were already gathered in a bowl.

"I'm not doing this," Romano protested. But as he began to get up, Spain's watch beeped. Suddenly he felt grapes being shoved into his mouth, one by one, as Spain counted down cheerfully. He would have bit his lover's finger, but by the time it occurred to him, his mouth was too full for him to move it. He made up for it by glaring as hard as could at Spain.

When Spain finally got to twelve, he looked Romano over, who tried his best to look menacing even though he could hardly close his mouth.

Spain let out a small giggle. "You look so cute right now, mi amor," he said, cupping his hand on Romano's bloated cheek. Pulling him into a kiss, he fished his tongue around the overflowing mouth and started navigating the grapes into his own. Romano struggled not to let out a moan as the Spaniard's tongue brushed his cheek again and again.

After a few moments of this, Spain pulled back, chewed, and swallowed. "There, six for you and six for me. We can split the luck."

A slightly rumpled Romano attempted to swallow the grapes without looking too ridiculous. "I don't think luck works like - "

He yelped. Spain had pulled out the hem of his jeans, examining what was under. "I see you have your red underwear on," he said, looking at Romano with a slight mischievous glint in his eyes. He pulled the Italian in for another long, passionate kiss. "But I heard it's even better luck to not be wearing any underwear on at all."

He winked, then got up to go do the dishes. Romano was left spluttering on the couch.

* * * * *

Happy New Year :D
I had to do this :)

Now, time for a history lesson:

GerIta: There's no Italian stuff in this part because I covered it pretty well with the Spamano part. So I focused on the German aspect. This one traditon I found interesting, but I couldn't find a better description than "they would drop molten lead into cold water," so I have really know idea how Germans actually go about doing this. That would be why I wasn't exactly extremely descriptive.

FrUk: New Year's celebrations in England are very similar to those in America, as are the ones in France. The only interesting fact I could find was that in France, people kiss under mistletoe on New Year's rather than Christmas. And of course, we had to have a drunk Iggy in there.

SuFin: I know it was short but it was cute :D The show that Sealand's watching is a yearly thing that the Swedish put on at the Skansen Open-Air Museum, which is in Stockholm. From what I can gather, it's similar to Americans watching Dick Clark as the ball drops. The verse is a poem that the announcer there reads which is, oddly, written by an English poet. When Sealand talks about picking futures, he's referring to a Finish game in which people place little charms under cups or plates. Everyone removes a cup/plate, and whatever charm is underneath is a prediction of their future in the year to come.

LietPol: From what I gather, the only New Year's custom the Polish have is to sit and watch tv specials XD In Lithuania, however, there are a ton of games that people play, mostly involving finding out who you'll end up with or who is in love with you. The game that Lithuania plays is one that teenagers play to find out who they will marry. They write the names of twelve different people each on a strip of paper and leave a thirteenth one blank. The names are put under their pillow, and whatever name is pulled in the morning is the person you'll marry. If you pull the blank one you'll be forever alone :(

Spamano: Italians eat zampone, which is, to quote word for word, "stuffed pig's trotter." What that is I have no idea @_@ I also read a lot about fireworks and parties that happen in Italy, especially in Naples, which is located in Southern Italy. I just felt like Romano wasn't the party/firework type. In Spain, at midnight, trying to fit twelve grapes in your mouth at midnight is a really big deal and is supposed to bring you lots of good luck. In both Italy and Spain, people wear red underwear to bring more good luck. No, wearing no underwear is not considered lucky in Spain. But Romano doesn't need to know that.

Argh...I spent like, three hours on all the research XD Please feel free to let me know if I have any of this wrong, or if any of it's outdated, or if I left anything out. I wouldn't be against revising it :) After all, the internet isn't the absolute best research tool.

ALSO i used google translate for any parts that were in different languages, so blame it if I'm wrong. I don't speak Lithuanian :P

Have a great 2012 :D
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They say that having a child makes men of boys.

It's actually the other way around. When a man has a child, it brings out the boy in him that hasn't been there for a long time.

I see it in Antonio. Usually he's so composed, but around her, he's completely the opposite. Instead he makes mistakes to make her laugh, and says ridiculous things to make her smile. There's a playfulness in him that I never saw before she was born. Around her, he sort of…glows. Not that he didn't before. It's just that now, it's so much more obvious and permanent.

So when I happen to see them in the kitchen, and catch Antonio dropping something just so that she'll giggle and chastise him, I can't help but smile a little. He's got a handful of cherry tomatoes that he can't seem to carry properly, and they keep slipping from his fingers into her lap. Then his eyes widen at his mistake, and he apologizes as if he's just committed murder, and she pats him on the head and tells him it's okay. And he let's out a sigh of relief and goes back to trying to be a ham. They laugh together, and their laughter blends together musically and floats throughout the entire house.

And it's things like this that I want to remember forever.

* * * * * *

They say that having a child makes men of boys.

I have to agree. There's something about a daughter that brings out the best side of every man.

I see it in Lovino. He loves her so, so much, and he just wants to be everything for her. I can't help but notice how hard he tries around her to be the perfect father he thinks he needs to be. It's obvious that he wants nothing more than for her to love him as much as he loves her. So he's putty in her hands; he'd do anything she wanted him to.

So when I find them lying on their stomachs next to each other on the carpet, I can't help but smile. Lovi's got a half-full laundry basket next to him, like he was in the middle of gathering up all the dirty clothes in the house before she called him over to help her. Now he's holding a crayon that's too small for his hand and labeling her drawings as she instructs him to, trying to make his cramped writing look neat enough for her approval. And she's just smiling at him, because to her, he is perfect.

And it's things like this that I want to remember forever.
finals are over! :D

i wrote this a while back, but i refrained from letting myself publish it until i didn't need to study anymore. i know everything's been short lately D: but i've got a couple long fics half-written on my desktop, so fear not :)

enjoy :D
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Holy Rome wasn't coming back.

I coughed back a gasp at the sudden thought. But it…it was true, wasn't it? He'd been gone for so long. Hundreds and hundreds of years, I'd waited for him to come back to me. If he was still out there somewhere, it wouldn't have taken him that long to find me. Right?

I had to move on.

The idea terrified me. My entire life I'd spent just yearning for him; that was how I lived. Eat breakfast. Holy Rome. Go to work. Holy Rome. Crawl into bed alone, every single night…Holy Rome. I didn't know how to live any other way. Was it even possible? I struggled to remember a time when he hadn't grazed my every thought.

God. Holy Rome not coming home? The thought had never even occurred to me. I looked back now on all that time I'd wasted on that beautiful boy. I'd closed myself off, hadn't I? I saw that now. I must have hurt so many people. My brother came to mind…He deserved someone better than I had been, didn't he?

I deserved better, too. I couldn't live like I wasn't alive anymore.

There was another man. He was no Holy Rome, for certain. His cheekbones didn't give off that fiery blush, and his hands didn't have that gentle touch, and he didn't roll his r's when he spoke. In contrast, he was serious. A scowl had permanently worked its way into his eyebrows. He tried so hard to be meticulously flawless, something he didn't always achieve.

But he was determined, and strong, and certainly handsome. Under his cold façade there was a quiet person who really just wanted someone warm to sit next to. And in his search for perfection, I always caught a glimpse the imperfect side of him; the one that laughed when I did and taught me how to tie my shoes and let me lie next to him when the Austrian Wars became all too vivid in my nightmares.

He wasn't my Holy Rome. Then again, no one could ever be. No one's lips could ever pierce me that far.

But maybe he was good enough.
This is Gerita, in case you couldn't tell. And ChibitaliaxHRE. I was feeling sad, and this came to mind. Even if the person you want isn't coming back, you should still let yourself be happy :)

Enjoy ~
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