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Warning:  Crack. Lots of glorious crack!


----------


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


Something didn't feel right.


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


"It's me! Flying Mint Bunny!"


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

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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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

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


"Because I love you!"


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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

Personified!Flying Mint BunnyxEngland 8D

Bunny looooooves you, Artieeeee~~~~


:heart:

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

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


However, there was just one problem.


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


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


But he would have to start somewhere, right?


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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

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

So leave your interesting and creative responses in the comment section below *shot*
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He hated it when he left. Of course, he would never show it. That was something Lovino would never do. Antonio would announce he would be leaving for a while and all Lovino would do was huff and shrug.


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


The house was much too quiet.


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


He would always find himself thinking the same thing.


Come home, Spagna...


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


If he came home, that is...


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


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


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


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

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


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

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

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

yeah, anyway, enjoy~

damn i've missed this x3

btw, Spagna means Spain in Italian. ghfhj
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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?"

"No."

"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."

"Hmmm..."

"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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As the woman walked back towards him, without Alfred in tow, Arthur had a frown on his face. Just what did the lady think she was doing, he had asked for Alfred and damn it, he was going to get the boy. Okay that made him sound like a pervert, and he wasn't a pervert, not really. Although he had been asked a lot of questions before he was able to adopt. Something about a single male trying to adopt a young boy raised red flags in their systems. Thankfully a background check made sure he wasn't some kind of perving old man.

It had been a couple of years since his wife died in child labour, and he had been heart broken, he had worked all of his life, saved and saved to spoil his family, and he had no-one left. After coming out of his depression, he had decided that perhaps he should shower some lowly child with affection, give it the life that he never had. Which led him here.

"Well?" He asked, a hint of anger in his voice. After having the women treat him like a pervert, he was getting rather annoyed at her dallying.

The woman seemed to fidget nervously for a moment, looking over her shoulder before sighing. "There's plenty of other children here you can choose instead of him," she offered slowly. Arthur raised a prominent eyebrow, staring at her incredulously. "Why not him? I thought you said he could be adopted!" Really, his patience could only be worn so thin.

Licking her lips, the lady sighed. "Alfred has a twin brother he refuses to leave… Unfortunately, the boy's stubborn, and if you try and take him away from Matthew, his twin, against his will…" Sheepishly, she held up an arm where there was the faint scarring of what could only be teeth marks given by a child. "He gets rather feisty. He's a tough and stubborn kid- too strong for someone of his age." Again, she shook her head. "Unless you wish to adopt two children, I'm afraid I'll just have to advise you to pick another child."

Alfred and Matthew were quite literally inseparable, after all…

Arthur had to give this a thought for a moment. Researching had said that a young boy would have been a bit of trouble, Arthur had thought he could handle this. But twins? Was he really willing to take twins? As his green eyes glanced over to the boys, Arthur couldn't stop the little smile tugging at his lips. Him and his wife had always wanted twins.

They were blonde to top it off, and they clearly had a bond with each other. The longer Arthur looked at them the more he fell. Giving a deep sigh, over dramatic, Arthur looked to the lady before him, rubbing his chin and looking thoughtful. "Well, if I have to take both of them, I don't suppose you could give me some sort of discount could you? It really would be trouble to take care of the both of them, but at least they're off your hands..."

Maybe he had been listening to his friend Francis too much, he wouldn't have usually haggled for a human life.

The woman blinked in surprise, eyes wide. "B-Both?" she repeated disbelievingly. Arthur frowned, nodding as he kept his eyes on the two boys, Alfred plopping himself down on his rear beside Matthew, making some grand gestures as he spoke. He swore he could almost hear the boy's words from here.

"Yes. Both," he decided with a firm nod.

The lady licked her lips and smiled brightly, turning it to the two before the smile turned pitiful. "We'll charge less, if only because… Nobody wants to adopt Matthew. I doubt you'll notice him; he's always hiding behind and relying on Alfred. It's him you have to be concerned about, not Matthew," she spoke as she moved to the front desk, picking up some papers and continuing to write.

After a few minutes, the papers were complete and she held the pen out to Arthur. "Sign this when you return, okay? Speak to the boys properly." Turning her eyes to the very energetic- if not dangerous- elder blonde, she sighed.

If she could get Alfred adopted, it would be by an insane man- for who wants a loud, energetic and defiant child?- and if the person adopted Matthew too… Well, she'd buy a lotto ticket then and know luck was on her side that day.

Arthur nodded his head at the woman, pulling at the bottom of his waistcoat to straighten it out before he walked over to the two boys he would soon be adopting. There was a look of horror on one of the twins faces, Arthur supposed that one must have been Matthew. The past few days, when he had been studying which child he wanted, Matthew had never really stood out. Arthur knew a lot more about Alfred, how loud and slightly obnoxious he was. Crouching down in front of the boys, Arthur was almost amused at the way the smaller twin clung to his brothers arm.

"I'm going to be adopting the both of you"

The look of shock on Matthew's face was almost painful for the young twin.

The big guy, with the big caterpillar eyebrows was going to adopt the both of them?!

Matthew had never had anyone say they would adopt him before, and his heart leapt with joy. Even though deep down he knew the only reason he was being adopted was because of his brother, it was still nice that this scary hairy man wanted the both of them. Matthew turned to look up to his brother, chewing on the teddies ear as he waited for Alfred to talk to the man.

Alfred huffed, frowning at the tall man before him, placing a hand on his hip as his chest puffed out and he straightened, aiming to look as big and intimidating as he could with Matthew clinging to his other arm. "Look, Mister, I already told the lady no, because I aint goin' if Mattie aint—Huh?"

Bright blue eyes blinked widely as the words clicked in his head, a look of confusion and shock written on his features. It took him a few seconds of blank and innocent staring (with a face so childishly adorable Arthur couldn't help but melt in delight that he'd chosen Alfred) before the words fully sink in.

"Both… of us?" Blue eyes blinked as the man nodded with a small smile.

Almost like a contagious disease, Alfred's face broke out into a bright smile, turning to look down at Matthew who (dear god!) was so adorable chewing on that bear's ear like that! "Did ya hear that Mattie? Both of us! We're getting adopted, we're getting adopted!!" Alfred cried out energetically in joy as he dove down onto his knees and gave his brother a giant bear hug, squeezing him close and nuzzling his cheek and neck.

"I told ya, didn't I Mattie? Someone would want us both!"

Alfred had been right, someone really did want the both of them! Although Matthew didn't show his happiness in as much words as his twin, he was still over joyed at the idea of moving into a home with his super best big brother and this new man. Now Matthew didn't have to worry about the other children picking on him for not being adopted when he was alone.

When they noticed him of course.

Still, as his brothers chubby arms wrapped around him, Matthew dropped the bear that had been crying for only moments earlier on the floor, his small hands grabbing onto Alfred's shirt before his wide eyes looked up to Arthur. "Reawwey?"

What beautiful violet eyes…

If the British man had known of the twin and how cute he could look, well, it wouldn't have been much of a choice that he would have adopted the set of twins. Arthur smiled gently at the other child, nodding. "Of course, lad. I shall be adopting the both of you," he confirmed as Alfred made another delighted sound that simply melted his heart.

These children were simply precious.

"I told ya Mattie! I told ya!" he chirped happily as he nuzzled his brother's cheek, squeezing tightly and rubbing up against him until their little bodies fell to the floor. Arthur moved his hands forward instinctively to protect them from the small topple, but blinked wide green eyes in surprise when Alfred began laughing loudly, his small hands protecting Matthew's head as he lay on top of his brother.

Matthew would trust Alfred with his life, he always had, for as long as he could remember. Which in theory, wasn't really that long considering how old they were, but Alfred had always been there, and they would never loose each other, which was why when he fell to the ground, he had no fear of hitting his head, he knew that Alfred would protect him, because Alfred was the hero. Giggling along with his brother, Matthew turned bright violet eyes to the man that was going to adopt them.

Relieved, Arthur breathed a sigh before a gentle look crossed his face. "Come now boys, shall we get going?" Alfred perked up and turned his head to look over his shoulder, shifting so that he was on his hands and knees above his brother before breaking into a wider grin that made Arthur wonder how his poor little face hadn't split yet.

"Yeah mister!" he spoke happily as he crawled off Matthew, helping him sit up and, still holding his twin's hand, darted forward into Arthur's arms, giving him a one armed bear hug and burying his face in the British man's neck, nuzzling playfully.

Matthew couldn't help but wonder if this man had a lovely wife that would be their mother. He could see her with blonde curls, blue eyes, a wonderful cook. That seemed to be the kind of person that Arthur looked like he'd match. It was only now that it had finally sunk in he was going to be adopted by this man that he took in the elders features. For a child like Matthew looks weren't all that important, as long as you knew how to play with him and looked after his brother he was happy, but he couldn't deny that Arthur looked pretty.

Pretty in a manly way.

Hugging Arthur along with Alfred, Matthew's small hands bunched up in the others clothes, a grin on his face, something that wouldn't have usually been there. Well, his brothers happiness was always addictive.
Okay, so I can't believe just how popular the Prologue was, and I feel bad anyway for my watchers having to miss out on my other fics, so I supposed I might as well add the first chapter, just to get you guys back on my side right....

Prologue: [link]


Any of you gais interested in Sirius x Remus from Harry Potter? Obviously when they were young, but meh...

Anywho, usual stuff.

Art is by :iconnanai12: who drew this amazing front cover for me~ Please go look at their art!

Following the relationship between Arthur, and his two adopted children Matthew and Alfred. There will be time skips between ages, but this will all be made clear. You must see them as children, to understand them as adults. Will later turn into a raunchy ACE story.
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Blue eyes snapped open and turned to look at their guardian, his little hands clasping onto the rails where his legs wrapped around.

Arthur was home…

This wasn't good.

After getting away with this for so many years, to get caught so carelessly… It was definitely a shock. "Hey, Artie!" Alfred chirped quite happily, casually licking at his lips before wiping them, still hanging upside down.

"Don't you bloody 'Hey Artie' me, Alfred! Get down from there immediately!" Arthur scolded, his thick eyebrows furrowing as he looked angrily from one son to the other.

Alfred huffed, swinging his body up so he could grasp onto the bars properly, his ear hanging from the edge of the stairs as he pouted. "I was just welcomin' ya home, y'know," he mumbled with a pout.

"I was just welcoming you home, you know," Arthur corrected as he crossed his arms over his chest, "I won't repeat myself any further. Get down Alfred. Both of you will go sit yourselves down on the sofa in the living room. Now."

Uh oh…

They were in quite a bit of trouble now, it seemed…

Whimpering at the loud voice Arthur had used (and he complained that they used their outside voices inside, pah), Matthew stood to his feet, looking to Alfred with terror in his eyes before walking into their living room.

Okay, so he didn't know why he was so terrified.

Yes it was an adult thing they were doing, but they loved each other right?

So they were allowed to do it!

Alfred had said to him only people who love each other could do it.

But then, Arthur had never kissed either of them like that, did Arthur not love them?

Perhaps Arthur was really mad because they were doing adult things and didn't invite Arthur into it?

Matthew was confused, and hurt, as he climbed up onto the sofa, sitting near the arm of the chair.

Well, he supposed if Arthur was mad at both him and Alfred, he wouldn't be calling the school to see why Alfred was so battered up...

Wait, Matthew would rather Arthur called up the school!

Alfred huffed, pulling himself back up and holding onto the railing of the stairs. "No need t' shout, Artie. I can hear ya," he complained as he side stepped and crab walked his way back down the stairs, jumping when he deemed it safe.

"Alfred," Arthur scolded, his eyes narrowing dangerously.

The little American flinched and turned, toddling off after his brother. "I heard ya the first time!! Mattie, wait! The hero's comin'!!" he called as he darted off to lounge, crawling onto the sofa and plopping himself down beside his twin.

"Alfred Jones! Take your blasted shoes off! How many times must I repeat myself before it gets through to you!?" the British man barked, moving into the lounge room, kneeling before the twins to grasp at Alfred's ankles, ignoring the boy squirming and whining, taking each shoe off in turn before Alfred huffed, crossing his legs and his arms, puffing his cheek out in a pout as he frowned.

He didn't understand why they were in such big trouble- he had been a hero today!

All he had been doing was getting a reward!

Why didn't Arthur go out and buy him some McDonalds or something instead of sitting in the sofa opposite him and crossing his arms and looking so grumpy?

Alfred was hungry!

Matthew wanted to reach out and grasp his brothers hand, but didn't dare to move as Arthur's gaze switched between the two of them, as if wondering where he should start.  Violet eyes glanced over to his brother, who was fidgeting in his chair like always. Matthew didn't want to be told off, but he didn't want his hero brother to be told off either – Alfred had saved him after all!

Just as Matthew was about to open his mouth to defend his brother, Arthur started talking, effectively letting Matthews voice drown out into a soft whimper.

"What exactly did the two of you think you were doing? Do you know that kissing-"A flush appeared on his face, although he tried to hide it with an angry expression.  "Only adults are supposed to kiss like that, and it should only be people they love! Brother's shouldn't kiss like that!"

Matthew flinched, his shoulders slumping as he looked up through his bangs to Arthur, who could only sigh at the look the twins were giving him.

They weren't real brothers, as he had found out,, not by blood anyway, but they loved each other like brothers, he was so sure. But they looked so similar he doubted either of them would believe him if he tried to tell them to the truth!

Matthew was Canadian and Alfred American, how the two of them came to be together in the same Orphanage, looking like each other was beyond him.

Alfred huffed, frowning childishly, face set in a youthful pout, cheek puffed out and lips pursed as he crossed his arms across his chest. "So what? Mattie and I love each other!" the little American objected, large blue eyes tearing up as he sniffed, still maintaining an angry pout, cheeks flushed in anger and hurt.

He knew that Arthur always caved to waterworks.

Besides, they weren't entirely fake- he'd saved his brother today!

He was a hero!

He'd only wanted a reward and he was being scolded now!

Sniffling, Alfred uncrossed an arm to rub at his eyes, hiccupping lightly as he began to kick his legs lightly in a mild tantrum.

But it wasn't a tantrum- right, because heroes didn't throw tantrums.

"No fair Artie!" he said loudly, sniffling as large tears threatened to spill over, "You're just jealous Mattie and I don't kiss you like that! Besides, that was my reward! I'm a hero! I was a hero today! I saved Mattie and now you're mad at me! I was good, Artie!" Sniffling, the little child raised both hands to his eyes, little fists rubbing at them as the tears rolled down his cheeks.

The little American was a big fan of justice, and it was most certainly not being served now- to save his brother and even get roughed up himself a bit, all for the sake of his brother's smile only to be scolded by their parental guardian.

"You're a no good cop, Artie! I was a hero!"

Now even if his dear brother was faking his tears, Matthew couldn't help how it triggered his own whimpering, his eyes starting to well up. Arthur couldn't tell them off because it was love! Ok, so he wasn't on the same thought wave length as his brother, but they had the same goal – to be able to smooch without being yelled at by their guardian.

"Al-" Arthur began to scold before Matthew cut him off, surprising all parties involved.

"I love Alfred, and when we're older I'll marry him!" Giving a bit sniff Matthew continued "He saved me from a bully! A-and it was my idea to kiss!" Okay so that wasn't true, but if Arthur was going to yell Matthew didn't want it to be at his brother any longer.

"I doubt that Matthew, don't lie-"

"I'm not lying you big... stupid meanie!" Jumping down from the sofa Matthew ran up to Arthur, kicking him in his shin. Obviously his master plan had been to run to his room and cry, he was only this loud and violent when he was really mad/ standing up for his brother, but before he could get away Arthur hissed and grabbed him, causing Matthew to yell out in fear.

"Run for it Al! He'll kill you!" Matthew cried before a hand covered his mouth, concerned green eyes staring down to him. It was than Matthew realised he had been shaking, and that Arthur had pulled him into a hug, worry on his face instead of the earlier angry expression.

Afterall, the behaviour had been expected from Alfred, the loud mouth twin, not from the good one, so this had to be a very serious situation.

Of course, after the little Canadian's explosion, and Alfred instinctively pouncing up to attack to protect his brother- especially with Matthew being grabbed-, when he was told to explain the story, larger tears welled up in his eyes and he sniffled, sobbing for a bit and rubbing his eyes before toddling on over to Arthur.

Grasping the Brit's pants and clambering on up, forcing himself into the hug, one arm around Matthew and one arm around Arthur, the little American cried against their guardian's chest, little fingers curling onto the knitted vest.

Fixing his eyes on Alfred, Arthur arched a large eyebrow in question "Tell me the story from the beginning lad..."

"I was a hero…"
The next chapter will feature Alfred and Matthew as teenagers, and will have some dirty old lemon in it.

But for now, enjoy this chapter~


I will be adding links to previous/future chapters shortly.
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Alfred practically whined when he heard their guardian leaving. "Arthur! Don't go!!" he called out desperately, not wanting to be left to the mercy of his brother, and also not wanting the Brit left to the mercy of the Frenchman.

"I'll flush your tea bags down the toilet!!" he threatened loudly, wincing as he heard a door slam shut.

Damn it. He was alone… with Matthew…

And his boner… Fuck.

The American shivered at the words whispered into his ear, blue eyes fluttering. Vaguely, he recalled someone telling him it was always the quiet ones that were the most devious, and Alfred didn't doubt that for a moment.

Stupid passive aggressive Canadian brother of his…

Strong muscles tensing at Matthew's words and the lips to his neck, he felt his breath hitch. Of fuck, oh fuck, he'd been challenged… "I ain't sayin' nothin', bro," he spoke with a grin, turning his head to look at the fair haired blonde holding onto him.

Fine, if it was a challenge, then, challenge accepted!

Arms tensing further, Alfred began to pry them apart slowly, flexing in the process, muscles rippling beneath tan skin as he waggled his eyebrows suggestively at the Canadian, pausing mid flex just to show off that not only could he hold his cool right now, but also giving the fairer complexioned teenager a good view of his body.

After a few seconds, he licked his lips slowly before completely, and in one smooth motion, breaking the other's grip on him, twisting and grabbing him, trapping his wrists in one hand and slamming him up against the drawers, pinning him there, wrists caught in one hand and pinned up above their heads.

The towel slipped slightly, hanging off one hip low, only really held up because their hips were pressed together. "Check mate, bro, I win—Nngh…" Alfred cut off, his body shuddering, his eyes fluttering shut as his head dipped down to rest on Matthew's elegant shoulder.

"Fuck," he breathed, his spare hand dipping down to fix the towel which had very nearly almost slipped off, almost revealing his erection—He was pressed up against Matthew.

Oh fuck…

Moving his hips back, Alfred shuddered, instead biting down on his brother's neck as a method of distracting the other.

Matthew would have loved to have come out with a witty comment at that very moment, something along the lines of 'Is that a gun in your pocket or are you just happy to see me', but several things had stopped him from doing so.

One, he knew damn well that his brother was in a towel, so the whole pocket refernce would be lost, and two, Matthew could almost certainly tell that it wasn't a gun pressed against him. The jolt of pleasure may have been a clue, or the fact he could feel it twitching against his thighs, at least until his brother had moved his hips back.

"M-maple!" Matthew had groaned out, his head dropping back as Alfred bit him, body melting against the chest they were pressed into. He'd be damned if he was letting that feeling get away from him.

Wrapping his legs around Alfred's hips (fully resting himself against the chest and effectively pulling their hips together) letting out another sound as they rocked together.

"Alfred! You d-damn hoser…  you've been holding out on me!"

Moaning low in his throat, Alfred sucked firmly on the flesh between his teeth, blue eyes shut tightly, slight frown on his face.

Damn it, Matthew's hips were pressed up to his and god they were rocking so deliciously- he couldn't help but start to push back, needing friction and attention to his engorged member.

For the love of French fries and burgers he was so horny right now…

"N-Nngh, Mattie," he groaned out against saliva damp skin, a red mark blossoming on the Canadian's perfectly milky skin directly over a fun sensitive spot that he had discovered a good few years ago.

"Oh fuck… fuck… Mattie I… Oh god… Want you so bad right now," he growled huskily, releasing the towel as he moved his hand to the other's hip and rear, grasping and kneading before bodily lifting the other up, walking a few steps to the side before slamming the other into the wall, the other's wrists still trapped in one of his hands and pinned above their heads, sun kissed and powerful muscles flexing as he leant forward and pressed their lips together into a rough, forceful and needy kiss, if not slightly sloppy and clumsy with need.

"Oh Maple, Al, I-" Matthew was cut off with the others lips pressed against his own, kissing back as harshly and as needy as the other, using his legs to pull himself against his brother, not that he really needed to, they were humping against a wall, and oh God, Matthew could feel the dampness of having Alfred so slick and hard and wet between his thighs seep through his too tight trousers.

With a sudden amount of strength, the Canadian had managed to free one of his hands, the other keeping it's place above his head.

With one hand now free Matthew could feel, his fingers slipping into Alfred's hair and gripping his skull, tilting their heads so that the kiss was deeper, messier, saliva running down both of their mouths.

Mixed in with the rocking and the occasional slam of Matthew's heels against the wall when he would try to un-tense and his leg would fall back, he was sure they were going to a leave a dent, or at least a neighbour would complain about the noises.

Not that either of them cared.

Pulling his mouth from his brothers, Matthew blinked open his eyes, only to find that he couldn't see because of the mist that had appeared on his lenses (he was hoping Alfred had the same problem)

"Al – What the fuck bro, since when did you get that… that huge?"

Panting lightly against Matthew's lips, the American smirked at the ego stroke (though he'd much rather have his brother-by-law stroking something else). "Pretty big, huh?" he boasted obnoxiously, flashing a killer 200 watt smile that Hollywood would pay millions to have, "And it's all yours, bro."

Releasing Matthew's hand from the wall, Alfred adjusted his towel slightly on his hips, not that it really mattered- it had slipped down enough that the tip of his engorged member had peeked out from the fluffy whiteness, his hipbones and thigh visible in the part on the side.

"Now you're either going to get on your knees like a good little bro and suck your big brother off with that sexy and talented mouth of yours, or you're going to help me take these trousers off so I can keep dry fucking you against this wall without getting the equivalence of carpet burn on my cock."
This Chapter is the beginning of a MATURE story

I hope you gais like, more Mature next chapter too

Prologue: [link]

Chapter 1: [link]

Chapter 2: [link]

Chapter 3: [link]

Chapter 4: [link]

Chapter 5: [link]

Chapter 6: [link]

Art is by :iconnanai12: who drew this amazing front cover for me~ Please go look at their art!

Following the relationship between Arthur, and his two adopted children Matthew and Alfred. There will be time skips between ages, but this will all be made clear. You must see them as children, to understand them as adults. Will later turn into a raunchy ACE story.
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SEIZING THE GROCERY STORE'S VITAL REGIONS

*cue ominous music*

There are two main differences between the Feliciano/Lovino/Matt/Alfred/Ludwig/Gilbert variety of children, and the Antonio/Francis variety of children.

The first is that not one of the Feliciano & Co. variety is a convicted pedophile. (Gilbert's trial is next week.)

The second is that Feli & Co. all have parent-type-things keeping them under control. Antonio, on the other hand, does all his grocery shopping himself.

At the extremely mature (note sarcasm) age of ten.

And, being a totally mature ten-year-old, he was currently occupied racing shopping carts up and down the aisles. Sexily. Because Antonio Fernandez Carriedo was sexy from the moment he was born.

"POR SPARTAAAAA!"

Toni whizzed sexily past the bread and the condiments, hair blowing back sexily in the wind. He smiled sexily, raising his hand sexily to a giggling nine-year-old girl holding a can of whipped cream. Her poopy-headed mother gave him a deathglare, but it had no impact on his sexy demeanor. Sexiness rolled off of him in waves.

He sexily turned the cart, which he had dubbed his Armada, as he came sexily to the end of the aisle, and sexily came to a stop. The next aisle had a small toys section, and there was some kid in a green Cub Scouts uniform with blonde hair down to his shoulders browsing. He looked up, saw Toni, and immediately pointed a Nerf gun in the ten-year-old's general direction. "Die, you poopyhead!" he howled in an accent. A little girl who looked almost exactly like the boy glanced nervously at her (presumed) brother, chewing on her fingernails nervously.

Nothing can stop the Spanish Armada! Toni sexily got a running start and sexily hopped onto the back of his Armada, sexily racing past the boy, sexily flashing a peace sign and winking at the girl, and sexily dodging the foam balls that the Cub Scout fired off at him. He sexily turned into the next aisle, narrowly missing a collision with a poopy-headed Coca-Cola display, and promptly was halted in his tracks.

Toni sexily looked forward in confusion. He didn't see anything that could've stopped him. Then he heard the voice.

"You nearly hit my little brother!" a very young girl snapped indignantly. "You poopyhead! I hate you!" This was accompanied by a loud wailing from a similar-sounding voice.

Toni sexily hopped off the Armada and walked around. He saw two little girls, dressed in boys' clothing and nearly identical-looking, except for a slight difference in hair shade and curls on different sides of their heads. One was curled up on the ground with her mouth wide open, crying. The other was standing right in front of the Armada, with an angry look on her face. Her foot was on the back of a small boy with big blue eyes and brown hair with a bit sticking up, who was wedged underneath one of the wheels of the Armada, effectively stopping it.

Hmm. It feels like there's someone missing in this description.

Guess not.

"Hi!" smiled Toni sexily. "You are cute! Would you like to be my girlfriend?"

THIRTY SECONDS LATER…

"AND I'M A BOY!" shouted the little gir-uh, boy.

Toni sexily rubbed his nose and sexily hauled himself up off the floor. Ow. "That wasn't very nice, sweetie!"

"My name's not 'sweetie'," growled the boy.

"Then what is it?"

"WHAT IS THIS, THE SPANISH INQUISITION?" he howled. His face was deeply red with anger.

"Ah, the Spanish Inquisition," Toni mumbled to himself dreamily. "Good times."

In the meantime, the boy under the Armada's wheel blinked up at the tomato child. "Lovino, can I go now?"

"Yes, Alfred, please get out of here," the boy – Lovino – growled. He removed his foot, and Alfred scampered away.

"Wait up!" Toni thought he heard a quiet voice call. He sexily glanced around curiously, but there was no one. Must've been his imagination.

Toni sexily continued the conversation. "So, little tomato, your name is Lovino?"

"I'm not a tomato!" The tomato's voice squeaked.

"Awwh~ You are cute, Lovi!"

"Don't call me Lovi!"

"…YOU'RE SO CUTE!" Toni sexily glomped Lovino.

"MPFGH!" An angry vein pulsed in Lovino's forehead. He pushed away Toni and–

SMEK!

Antonio sexily kissed the little boy full on the mouth.

Lovi's eyes bulged. His arms flailed. Then Antonio's sexiness kicked in. Lovi turned into a pretty pretty princess and kissed Tonio back and sighed like a complete fangirl when Toni dipped him. Even though their mouths were still attached so sighing was awkward.

And then Lovino's little sister-brother-gender-neutral-chibi-thing pronounced them man and tomato and they rode off into the parking lot in the Armada.

Sexily.

THE END.
SO MUCH CRACK (╯□)╯︵ ┻━┻

Inspired...ish by OwlInAMinor and her unpublished story about the BFT having fun in grocery stores...

Comments please :'D Your flames are my porn.
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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.


100.
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]
D- HERE!!
E- [link]
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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.
"Im 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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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.

WAIT. THERE WAS NO BEEF. IN FACT, NO 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!

~*~

FIN.
I SUMBIT SOMETHING YAY.

Well, here.

Crack.

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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Watch out fer dem Russians.













hetalia (c) :iconhimaruyaplz:
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China was walking leisurely down the hallway of the vast mansion. Like everything else in Russia, the mansion was immense- the hallways seem unending, the doors branched off into different parts of the house. It took him many visits and careful memorization before he could stroll down alone Russia's massive home without losing his way.

In some sense or another, this had almost become his second home. Whenever he came to visit, none of the guards stopped him from entering; the maids greeted and curtsied. To be acknowledged and recognized as a 'special' friend of their nation, it was…a queer feeling.

It wasn't as if he and Russia made it their goal to keep their relationship a secret. There really was no point in denying it. However, even with the world labeling them as a couple, the couple themselves never openly admitted their feelings to one another. There were no exclamations of 'I love you' or undying vows of eternity. What they had was much simpler than that: a brushing of hands, a secret smile shared during a meeting. A quiet romance.

"It was much better this way", China thought. They made no promises. They weren't under any obligations to solely belong to one another. China finally reached Russia's office, his hand poised to knock. Still, even if they didn't bind each other with pointless words and treaties, they had a silent trust.

A muffled moan drifted to China's ear through the thick, wooden door.

China paused. A…moan? W-what was Russia doing in there? He pressed his ear against the door. It wasn't good manners to eavesdrop- he knew that- but he was just making sure he wasn't…interrupting anything.

Plastered against the door, China heard the sounds of someone giggling. The Chinese swore under his breath. It was very similar to the type of giggle Russia made when he was teasing someone…and that someone right now wasn't China.

He ground his teeth in irritation when a string of groans and moans quickly followed the lyrical giggle. They may not brazenly call each other lovers, but that didn't mean Russia was allowed to cheat on him behind his back!

All previous thoughts of trusting each other, of knowing they loved one another without words, flew out of China's head. If Russia thought he could two time him, he had another thing coming! He burst through the door, ready to spill some Russian blood- his dragon claws already unsheathed.

"Do you mind?" Belarus said calmly to the indignant Chinese as she continued to pour candle wax onto the bound and gagged Russia's bare chest, "Brother and I are still playing."

"Wha…I…I…," China could only stutter. He had fully expected to catch Russia sexing up someone on his desk. What he didn't expect was Belarus straddling a poor, helpless Russia. Not only was he gagged with his hands tied behind his back, she had torn open his shirt and placed a collar and leash around his neck. Another drip of wax fell on his chest. What China had mistaken for moans of pleasure was actually screams of pain muffled by the gag. Seemed like Belarus bought the wrong kind of candle.

"China, lock the door on your way out," Belarus commanded the older nation, "I don't want another interruption between Brother and me."

"Ah…y-yes aru," China blindly replied, his mind still stunned.

Russia struggled, his yells of protest intelligible through the gag. The female pulled on his leash, choking him. "Hush now, Brother. We'll play a little more after China leaves, alright?"

Uncomfortable and hesitant, China turned to look behind him one last time. He glanced at Russia and saw teary violet eyes pleading for him not to go, to save him from his demonic sister.

"Um…Belarus, I'm not sure if Ivan wants to…play with you aru," China dared venture to say.

"Shut up, drag queen. What happens between Brother and me is none of your business!"

Smiling tightly, China felt his vein pop at the words 'drag queen'. "Excuse me aru…what did you call me?"

"Didn't you hear me, faggot? I guess other than being a sissy boy, you have bad hearing too huh? Maybe instead of wasting money on all those kitty toys, you should buy yourself a hearing aid."

Still smiling, China closed the door behind him. He cracked his knuckles as he walked towards Belarus. It was against his morals to hit woman, but Belarus crossed the line.

30 minutes later and many bruises, flying knives, and broken furniture, China finally emerged victorious.

"And stay like that aru!" China huffed and puffed as he made the final knot to the ropes tying a still voracious Belarus.

"I'll kill you! I'll kill you! I'll stab you when you're sleeping, you-" China threw her into the closet and slammed the door shut; her blood thirsty threats turned into mere annoying buzzes.

Once he disposed the psycho Belarusian, China hurried over to Russia. After deftly untying the ropes, he delicately removed the hardened wax from the pale chest. China's eyes burned with worry over the multiple red splotches the candle caused. He would have walloped Belarus two more times if he saw this earlier.

"Are you okay aru?" China asked, his hands hovering over Russia's torso.

Instead of answering, Russia just enveloped China in a tight hug, his head buried into the crook of the older nation's neck. Feeling Russia tremble, China hugged him back tighter. He understood how it was to have a crazy sibling lusting after you. Korea was one thing, but Russia must have it worse.

China was humming a soft lullaby- his hand rubbing the Russian's back in a soothing manner- when he felt his pants loosening. He yelped in surprise as a cold hand suddenly cupped him.

"Wha-what are you doing aru?" China cried out even though his lower half responded quite readily.

"Isn't this what suppose to happen next?" Russia asked innocently, eliciting a moan from the Chinese, "The hero saves the damsel in distress so now they live happily ever after?"

"Tha-that's not how…Ah!"

Russia pushed him to the ground. "Don't worry, my Prince Charming. I'll make sure that you're amply rewarded da?"

After his hips went out of commission for a week, China promised to never save Russia again.
I sweared I uploaded this before along side "Shopping with Mei Mei" !!!! Where did it go???

Ah well. Since I have to reupload it, I dedicate it to :iconembercoral: because she reminded me of it XD

Original Author's Note
My brain died. I don't care anymore. Time to study for my exams~

First half of this story was inspired by Kokeri's comic in which China walked in on a compromising scene of Belarus straddling a struggling Russia.

The second half was inspired by a Chinese comic where China fought a duel with Belarus for Russia (kinda).
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Secret Santa. It was a silly game America suggested for the nations to play. China was one of the few nations that rejected the idea and refused to participate, but after some consideration (and bullying from the others), he decided to join in on the festivities.

When it was finally his turn to draw a name from a hat, China wasn't particularly concerned. He already decided no matter who he got, he would probably give them some money stuffed in a red pocket, some shark fin, and grade-A tea leaves; if it was a female nation, he'll even throw in some crushed pearl face cream and bird's nest soup. He was silently congratulating himself on how generous he was when he pulled a name out. Immediately, the thought flew out of his mind and colored drained from his face as he read the name. It couldn't be…. He blinked. Blinked again as he read the name scribbled on the tiny paper. He stared hard at it until he thought his vision blurred. No matter how hard he stared at it, the letters didn't rearrange themselves.

Russia (or according to America's handwriting "Russia-The Fatty"). He was Russia's secret Santa….

Almost instinctively, China eyes sought for his northern neighbor. In the small room they were in, it didn't take long to spot the silver head that towered over the other nations. He was chatting with his sisters, the once iconic sinister smirk gone. In its place was a genuine smile.

China found himself responding to that smile, the corners of his own mouth lifting. The relationship he had with Russia always had its ups and downs. They've been enemies, allies, and now even friends. For centuries, it was always Russia who pushed their relationship a little further, asking for just a little bit more.

Recently, China had a feeling the Russian wanted more than just friendship from him. When he took the time to think about it, the idea horrified him. It wasn't because falling for a recently recovered psychopath was scary; it was the idea that he actually didn't mind that made him nauseated.

When was it that he found the big-boned nation sort of…cute? China wracked his brains for an answer, but the further he probed for the truth, the more obvious it became to him why he increasingly…enjoyed Russia's company. No! He had his pride. He would not admit that he was in l-l-lov….China refused to think he was attracted to Russia. The scrap of paper crumbled in his hand as he anguished over his predicament. He sighed, smoothing it out.

He was Russia's secret Santa. Maybe this was Fate's way of telling him to get over his embarrassment and go for it. After years of Russia pursuing him, perhaps it was his turn now to court the other nation….



Long ago, before the second Great War, Russia gave the smaller, weaker nation a tour of his home. China walked beside the larger man as snow gently floated from the sky and crunched beneath their feet. People walked the streets, but quickly returned indoors to avoid the freezing cold. Only he and Russia continued walking unhurriedly down the lonely, snow-filled road.

China remembered how desolate it felt, how alone. As the snow blanketed the road with white, the Chinese nation thought how unforgiving the world was. It was then a song- a sweet, aching song- floated out from the silence.

Spi mladyenets, moi prekrasny
Bayushki bayu,
Tikho smotrit myesyats yasny
F kolybyel tvayu

Stanu skazyvat' ya skazki,
Pyesenki spayu,
Ty-zh dremli, zakryvshi glazki,
Bayushki bayu.


"What are you singing aru?" China asked Russia.

Russia stopped singing halfway, smiling down at his companion. "It's called 'Kozacka Kolysanka'. It's one of my favorite songs to sing."

"It sounds lovely aru. What does it mean?"

Instead of answering China directly, Russia turned his head upward and sang to the falling snow.

Sleep, good boy, my beautiful,
bayushki bayu,
quietly the moon is looking
into your cradle.

I will tell you fairy tales
and sing you little songs,
but you must slumber, with your little eyes closed,
bayushki bayu.


At that moment, China thought the white, white winter wonderland was one of the most beautiful sights he ever saw.




Seven days until Christmas

"Come in," Russia said.

As the door cracked opened, he raised his head from reading the documents and was surprised to see Ukraine pop her head in. Unless they were at a meeting, she would avoid him like the plague. Even then, she would only cry in his presence. Right now, though, she was openly grinning at him. Not that he didn't like it, but it was unusual for her to be smiling at him. What bought around this sudden change?

"Vanya," his sister said in a teasing tone, "I have something for you."

Russia held up his hands in a pleading manner. "No more milk please."

Ukraine laughed, placing a small wrapped gift on his desk. "No, silly. I have something from your secret Santa. They asked me could I give it to you for them."

"Christmas isn't for another 7 days," Russia said confused.

Unwrapping the present with haste, he found a delicate wooden box no bigger than his hand. Whimsical carvings of utmost precision decorated the box. Intrigued as to why his secret Santa would give him this gift seven days early, Russia opened the lid. A familiar melancholy song tinkled out. His secret Santa had given him a music box.

Inside the musical gift was also a typed Russian note:

You once sang this song to me. Since then, this song has always reminded me of you.
- Secret Santa


Russia began trembling uncontrollably. His tear filled eyes gazed at Ukraine pleadingly as he chocked out, "Natalia is my secret Santa isn't she?"

"My dear little Vanya isn't use to being wooed is he?" The female nation laughed at her younger brother, "There are other nations out there beside Natalia who is interested in you, you know."

"S-so Bela isn't my secret Santa?" Russia said hopefully.

"No, she isn't."

"T-then who would-"

Ukraine, forbidden to touch or even talk to her brother by her boss, bent down and gave her sibling a peck on the temple. "You'll just have to wait until Christmas to find out."



It became a habit between them in recent years. Russia would sometimes drop by China's house unannounced. After China's show of pouting and complaint, he would eventually invite the younger nation in for tea. There, they would sit around the coffee table quietly as they sipped their warm drinks.  

Out of the corner of his eye, China watched the Russian lift the cup to his lips. It was then he noticed that Russia didn't wear his trademark gloves.

"My gloves?" Russia cocked his head at China's question. "There were holes in them so I had to throw them away."

"Why don't you get new ones then aru?"

Russia shrugged and continued drinking his tea. "Too bothersome. Besides, sister's scarf is enough to keep me warm. I'll get the gloves when I have time."




Six days until Christmas

China paced around his house, his eyes frantically flickering from his clock to the phone. Today was the sixth day Russia's part of the world already. Kazakhstan was suppose to hand the second present by now. Why hasn't she called yet? Did she forget? China was just about to call Kazakhstan when he realized this wasn't like him at all.

Sighing, China folded his arms and sat down in a chair. There was no reason to be nervous. Even without Kazakhstan calling him, he already knew what Russia's reaction would be. He was quite familiar with the way Russia's face would practically light up when he was happy. Thinking about it, China almost wished he was there to hand the present himself.

He shook his head, disgusted with his own imagination. It's been too long since he's done this sort of thing. He forgot how idiotic it made people. He was becoming too attentive to Russia's every needs and wants. Even when he knew he was going out of his way to fulfill Russia's wishes, as long as the other nation was satisfied, then it was worth every sweat and blood.

China banged his head on the coffee table. He was better off before he knew about his…his feelings for the Russian. If he wasn't an immortal, he would've died from embarrassment already. It was bad enough when he asked Ukraine to hand Russia his present, but it was even worse when he had to turn to Kazakhstan suddenly.

He was adamant in telling the two women that he was just Russia's secret Santa. There was no other motive other than being a dutiful Santa. Despite that, China didn't like the way Kazakhstan and even Ukraine gave him a knowing smile. The whole world was going to know by the New Year.

"Damn you, Russia aru," China mumbled into the table, "Why'd you have to send spies to Ukraine's house. You bastard aru, I hope you choke on your own spit and die."

In the middle of wallowing in the grave he dug himself, China's phone finally rang.

"Hello aru?"

"China!" Kazakhstan's excited voice pierced through the receiver, "You cradle robber, you! I still can't believe you would hit on someone under born in the AD. I can't wait until the others find out about this. It's going to be the biggest-"

"Did you give him the gloves?" China rubbed the side of his head, a sudden ache developing.

"Oh, yes I did and…."

China sat up straight at Kazakhstan's slight pause. "And what aru?"

"It's better if you see it yourself," Kazakhstan said, "I sent you a picture. Go check your email."

China rushed to his laptop, wondering what it was that Kazakhstan sent him. "Thanks, Kazakhstan aru."

"Oh, before I go, I want to tell you something, China."

"What is it?"

The Kazakhstanian's laughter flowed through the phone. "I can see why you think Russia's cute."

China blushed furiously. "I-I never said he was cute aru!"

Kazakhstan rolled her eyes even though she knew China couldn't see it. "Well, however you think of Russia, I wish you luck in your pursuit of younger men. See you at the Christmas party in 6 days. I expect a big smooch under the mistletoe okay?"

"Wait, Kazakhstan-" Too late, the other nation hung up, leaving China to gape at the dial tone.

He threw down the phone, completely mortified. He was not a cradle robber, no matter what Kazakhstan said. His Russian history may be rusty, but he knew how to use the internet. There were some sources that said Russia was at least 5000 years old. That made Russia almost as old as him!

The Chinese nation bit his lips, making a mental note to ask the larger man just exactly how old he was. He wasn't a pedophile, damn it!

China opened the email Kazakhstan sent. Earlier he thought Russia's face would light up as it usually did when he received gifts. He was wrong; Kazakhstan captured a photo of Russia blushing like an innocent school girl as he read the latest letter his secret Santa sent.

China sighed. Maybe she was right. Maybe he really was a pervert.



Five days before Christmas, Finland (with Sweden not far behind) went to Russia's house with some crocus flowers.

Russia, remember how you said you liked sunflowers because it reminded you of the sun? Crocus' may not look like the sun, but they'll bloom in the winter and keep you company.
-Secret Santa

P.S. Stop trying to find me. It's annoying to keep finding new people to give you things….


Russia was almost tempted to crush the letter in his hand from frustration. Who was it? Who was it that was his secret Santa? Was he ever going to reveal himself? Russia felt like he was going to go insane if he didn't find out who it was soon.

Four days before Christmas, Mongolia handed Russia some Golden Wheel peonies.

When the crocuses begin to wither and the sunflowers have yet to bloom, perhaps these can take their place.
-Secret Santa


He was also irritated by the other nations that were sent to his house. Why couldn't his secret Santa just send the packages through mail? His mailing system wasn't that bad…. He might receive them before February…maybe.  

Three days before Christmas, Russia watched a trembling Lithuania and a flippant Poland hang a painting on his wall.

When the sun is hiding behind the clouds and when the flowers refuse to bud, maybe a painting of sunflowers will keep you happy.
-Secret Santa.


Maybe his secret Santa thought he would be happy that people came to visit him. It was considerate of whoever it was, but not this time. Russia disliked the way the other nations taunted him with the knowledge as to who this mysterious person was. They were having fun at his expense and he didn't like it one bit. When he asked them directly, the only answer he ever got were giggles and the same words of 'You'll find out during Christmas.'

Two days before Christmas, he got spiked chocolates as his next present courtesy of Azerbaijan this time. One would think that after all the gifts Russia received, this one would be the most harmless. Alcohol was supposed to numb the mind, not make it clear. However, as Russia munched on the liquor filled candy, he realized something. He pulled out a map just to confirm it and laughed at how stupid he was to have missed such an obvious clue.



Christmas Eve

Tomorrow was finally Christmas and China couldn't have been anymore relieved. It was getting harder and harder to find people to hand Russia his gifts. By now, there was a rumor floating around Eastern Europe on how China had a thing for younger guys. He scowled when even France called him up one night to ask if he liked Russia because he was literally younger or because of his childlike demeanor? China hung up on him. Luckily, despite the loose mouth of the other nations, none of them told Russia it was really him who was his Santa; they all found Russia's frustration and China's blatant denial highly amusing. Thank the heavens for small favors, China thought.  

China lifted up his handiwork towards the light and was quite proud of his accomplishment. He didn't know how to knit a scarf, but for his first time, it was pretty good.

"I assume 'И.Б.' stands for Ivan Braginski.~" Russia whispered into China's ears.  

"Russia!" China screamed, clutching the newly made scarf to his chest, "You're not supposed to be here aru! What are you doing here aru!?"

Russia walked around the sofa to sit beside the stunned nation. Smiling, the Russian plucked the knitted fabric from China's fists before he ruined it. "I wanted to see if Yao was really my lovely, thoughtful, and extremely devious secret Santa. Guess I was right."

"H-how-"

"How did I find out?" Russia said, sliding even closer to the Chinese nation, "Azerbaijan, Finland, Kazakhstan, Lithuania, Mongolia, Poland, and Ukraine are my neighbors. You made a mistake in sending them."

China sucked in an indignant breath, "They told you aru?!?"

"No, no, no," Russia laughed, "I found out because only my neighbors were sent, but they never sent you."

"That doesn't mean it was me! There's still Belarus, Georgia, Korea, and Norway aru! It could've been them. Besides, there aren't enough Christmas days for all of us aru!"

"But I never sang Kozacka Kolysanka to them. It could've been Natalia, but Ukraine said it wasn't and I trust her." Russia gazed into China's bright golden eyes and an indescribable feeling welled up inside his chest. "All those years ago, I sang you that song and you still remembered. I never knew you could be so romantic. All those corny lines…I thought it was Francis at first."

A rose pink stained the older man's cheeks. "I've had millenniums of experience. Don't you dare look down on me, Ru-"

"Ivan."

"What did you say aru?"

"Call me Ivan." Russia lifted the other's hand up to kiss his fingertips. "Please call me Ivan, Yao."

"R-ridiculous." China snatched his hand back, the heat of Russia's mouth still burning his skin. "We're not that close yet aru."

"Then where are we?" Russia asked, cupping the back of China's head and drawing him close, "Can I take all those gifts and all those letters to mean that we're more than friends now? Can I take it that you feel the same way for me as I feel for you?"

"I don't know aru." China turned away his flushed face. "You'll find out on Christmas."

Russia held him in a tight embrace, burying his head into the soft, ebony hair. "I've waited this long, I think I can wait until tomorrow, but Yao…."

"What?"

"I know you worked hard on that scarf and I promise I'll wear it," Russia's voice tickled China's head as he spoke, "but when the Russian Christmas comes, can I request another present?"

"It'll depend on what it is aru." Tentatively, China wrapped his arms around Russia's waist, not really caring about Christmas at all.

"Can you be my Christmas present? Please?"

China laughed and unable to help himself, kissed Russia full on the mouth. "Merry Christmas, Ivan aru. I'll think about your next Christmas present."
I wrote this...a year or two ago? I forgot I even had it until I started cleaning out my folders. Belated Merry Christmas? (And yay, I can count this towards my ChuRo count OTL)

Cavity inducing? Try the earlier, darker (but unfinished) version here: [link]
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DO NOT WATCH ME because of this fanart. I DID NOT DRAW THIS. Please watch :iconweland:


This little ditty came about because of this wonderfully funny, yet horrifying article. It is appropriately titled "Woman Kills Man by Squeezing his Balls". This REALLY HAPPENED in China. : [link]

This was drawn by :iconweland: but I got special permission from her to upload it. Permission can be found here: [link]

P.S. LOVE HER! Obsess over ~Weland even though she's inactive. SHE"S STILL A GENIUS AND MY INSPIRATION ;A;
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He's Back
Fandom: Hetalia



The World Conference was beginning. Everyone had arrived on time and it seemed that no one was late. That is except to Austria and Germany who had a strange suspicion someone was coming.

"Somevone is coming!" Germany insisted. "I'm not making this up!"

Austria jumped in as well. "As much as it pains me to say this," He began. "But I agree with Germany. We have to be missing someone."

Switzerland slammed his fists on the table. "Would you two shut up!" He yelled. "We're all here. We can begin."

"I don't know dude," America butted in. "If you listen closely you can hear footsteps. Hey Canadia-I mean Canada you here bro?"

"I'm here Ameirca," Canada's voice was barely audible. Granted Russia was sitting on him.

The doors crashed open. Cocky red eyes gleamed with pride. He took a step inside. "The bitch is back!" Prussia smiled.

"Sir Elton what have I told you about following me around and yelling that whenever you enter a room?" England asked. He wasn't paying any attention to the door though. He was focusing on the latest edition of The London Times.

Prussia laughed. "Keeseekeesee. It's the awesome Prussia back from the dead!"

Germany's eyes widened. "BRUDER!" He exclaimed. "How are you alive after being...uh. Well destroyed?"

Prussia walked slowly around the table. "Well Vest it took some time. I found a boss and the rest is well...the awesome me!"

Austria frowned. "So vhat does that make you?" He asked.

Prussia sighed. "A micro-nation. Nothing awesome."

"Than you have to leave," Austria ordered.

Prussia smiled. "As a former nation revived, I think I'll stay right here." He took a seat beside Hungary (just to annoy the crap out of Austria). No one said a word about his being there after that.
Yes folks. Prussia is a micro nation now. Think I'm bluffing for the fake of a fan fic? Well here's the proof! [link]

My first time writing something with the Germans (Germany, Prussia and Austria) in it and as the main characters.

Comments, advice, faving and running all appreciated.

I don't own Hetalia or any of the characters nor do I own Elton John.

I do own the story and this description.
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It was another boring day for the Germanic family. Prussia was chugging down barrels of beer. Switzerland polished his gun, making sure to get everywhere. Austria and Germany flicked through channels, finding nothing goof on. 

Prussia's eyes widened. An idea came rushing to him. "The awesome me just got an awesome idea!" He exclaimed. "Let's do that thing we used to do! With the song and everything!" 

Everyone groaned. Prussia was the only one who liked it. He'd recorded all of them dancing to that infuriating song. Of course, it was when the other three was drunk. That's the only way they'd do it. 

Austria was the one who spoke their thoughts. "Vhy do ve have to? It's a pointless song and dance. It's trashy and the outfits is something you'd find in France." 

Switzerland sighed. "It's not like Liechtenstein or Hungary are here. The worst thing would be that we remember it. 

The grey haired Prussian laughed. "Awesome! We're doing this!" He ripped his jeans off. Underneath was a pair of party pants. His usual shirt was replaced with a sequined tank top. To complete the look he added rubber boots. 

"Bruder you look ridiculousness," Germany muttered. His words didn't bother the older man. Slowly, the rest of them got into the costumes. With a press of a button the song began to play. 

Ja is this the party? 

The dance began. None of them would admit it, but it was rather tiring. The repetitive pelvic thrusts. The flips, spins, and shimming. 

As it went on, they really started to enjoy themselves. At the part where there was the laughter, they found themselves laughing along with it. 

Of course all good things must come to an end. Right in the middle of a booty shake, the door opened. Hugnary and Liechtenstein stood in the doorway, staring with their mouths ajar. 

"Big brother?" Liechtenstein asked. "Why are your sparkling?" 

The Swiss man froze. "Dammit! Prussia I'm gonna kill you!" 

The other man didn't seem to hear him. He was laughing to hard. He kept on gasping out 'Each one of your faces!' He thought it was the best thing since beer. 

Hungary stormed over to him. "What the hell is going on?! Why are you in glittery shirts! What I wear is manlier than this!" 

Regaining what little composure he had, Prussia gave her a smirk. "Does it matter? You know, you can see everything in these pants. And I mean everything.

Under her breath she muttered, "filthy bastard." 

She bid goodbye to Liechtenstein, reminding her she could always call her if she wanted an escape from these freaks. She didn't cast the rest of them a glance. The slamming of the door was the last sound that went through the house. 

"You know she liked seeing everything," Prussia chuckled.

Austria slapped him. Switzerland grabbed his clothes and Liechtenstein dragging her home. Germany was completely frozen. He felt as if all his masculinity had been drained out of him.

It had. 
Story I wrote based on [link] Meant to upload this yesterday, but whatever. That's life.

I don't own German Sparkle Party (the song) or any of the characters mentioned.
I do own this story.
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Title - Sexy Brow Power
Hetalia Crack



It was an Allies meeting. So far only France and America had shown up. They were painfully getting tired of each other's company.

"Dude why are you so old and disgusting!" America moaned.

France whipped his head back. "I'm as young as a baby and disgusting? Moi isn't the one shoving hamburgers down his throat!"

Before they could continue a wind came in, throwing the door open. A fog covered the doorway until one man stepped in.

England wiggled his eyebrows and the door shut behind him. France and America were forced to stare in amazement. His eyebrows were blasting them with sexiness. It was too much for them. They couldn't handle it.

America's iPhone flew out of his pocket and into England's outstretched right eyebrow. It began playing the Lonely Island song 'Jizz in my Pants.'

It was too much for them. Their pants became soiled with jizz as the lyrics 'Yes I jizzed in my pants' played and his eyebrow wiggled to it. Good, designer pants soiled from one man.

Scotland, Wales, and Northern Ireland walked inside. Their eyebrows began playing strip poker. America began flopping one the ground. Everywhere he went there was a trail. France was sucking on a tree's leaves, moaning into them.

After five minutes of eyebrow strip poker Ireland joined the party. Their eyebrows became shooting beer. Sparkling beer that said 'Sex Gods' on it.

America - being premature - exploded at this. France screamed at the top of his lungs "Boner alert!" A beanstalk grew from the helm of his pants all the way to the heavens. Mini Frances and Canadas began climbing that stalk singing Britney Spears.

Scotland, Wales, Northern Ireland, and Ireland transformed into Phoenixes and flew away. England stood alone. He ripped of his shirt. On his chest was a picture of his eyebrows. Below it read 'Warning: Can radiate too much sexiness.'

This is why you don't mess with the United Kingdom and Ireland. Their eyebrows will send you into a sexiness blaze.
Based off of - [link]

What have I done? Oh God. I'm insane. Shit. I'm so going to hell for that. This is what happens when you're on a coffee high. Mother Britannia forgive me.

I'm not putting up a formal critique because this is just insanity. But ways to improve are always welcomed.

I own the story.

I don't own the characters.
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