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

However, there was just one problem.

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

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

But he would have to start somewhere, right?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mission accomplished?

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


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

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


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

A thing that refused to leave, apparently.

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

Because to Antonio, that person for him was Lovino.

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


Months passed.

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

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

Gilbert had laughed.

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

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

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

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

He let himself ponder on Francis' words.

Love? No...

Well... maybe...


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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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


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

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

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

Just friends.

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

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

and i'm sick so bleh.

; n;

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

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

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

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

And so the match making began.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Feliciano had fallen, and he had fallen hard.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

anyway, enjoy the crack! :iconhappyhappyplz:


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

However, there was just one problem.

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

Antonio had met with many princesses from many far away kingdoms but not one of them was what he was looking for. Time was running out for the prince and Antonio needed to find his fu
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The rain was pouring down relentlessly. Dirt had turned to mud and puddles were everywhere. It had been a battlefield not too long ago so there were mini craters, ammunition shells, and corpses scattered everywhere. Even so, a man was running through it all. His snow white hair shone in the darkness as his boots splashed through the puddles and mud, his arms wrapped tightly around a large bundle. Where ever this man was going, he needed to get there now.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

Feedback is loved.

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

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


Rang the voice again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Bruder?" Germany called.

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

"I love you."

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

"Ja, I got it."

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

"We're planning on invading Italy."

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

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

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

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


"I could be the scout," Germany offered.

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Anyways, please enjoy it!

Feedback is loved~

Prologue: [link]
Part 2: To be written

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

Feedback is loved!

Hetalia (c) Himaruya
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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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It was a wet and rainy day outside, which put the whole house hold in a bad moon – Arthur because he couldn't sit down outside with a cup of tea and do some gardening, Alfred because he couldn't go outside all together (Arthur didn't want mud in the house) and Matthew… well, Matthew was in his usual mood 'when will the world notice me' kind of mood.

The years hadn't been very kind to Matthew.

As his brother had hit his teenage years he had shot up in height, now nearly as tall as Arthur despite being only 16, but Matthew wasn't as lucky as his twin, instead standing about a foot shorter than Arthur.

As such he was rather depressed – in school the only reason people noticed him was because he was short.

Slinking into his brothers room (one of the few people who would recognize him now and again), Matthew plonked himself on his brothers bed, waiting for the more popular twin to finish in the shower.

Despite Alfred being tall, Matthew knew his little secret, and little it was.

Alfred hadn't matured.

In that area.

Something that Alfred had always been mad about, since he had seen how large Matthew was.

Upon confronting Arthur (who laughed hysterically and then got a punch in his stomach and two moody teenagers for a week), their guardian had tried to ensure the both of them that teenagers develop at different rates, and although Alfred wasn't quite an adult yet, it was going to happen eventually.

Which was all good and well until Alfred had walked in on Arthur having a shower and ended up screaming at him because of his size and crying that 'you don't know what it's like Artie!' before running off somewhere.

Sex Education was interesting – watching his brothers' face as they saw the naked women on the screen. Although many of the lads in the class would say 'ew' they would still be interested, but Alfred really wasn't.

Neither was Matthew – he had already decided he was going to marry Alfred (they had finally established in the school that they weren't related by blood).

Matthew also had certain feelings towards Arthur – adoration, but something else.

Often Matthew had woken up with what Alfred called 'a boner', but had promised his brother he wouldn't act on it until they both experienced the problem – they wanted their first time to be together.

Turning his attention back to Alfred's room, Matthew let out a hearty sigh, violet eyes turning to the door.

Alfred was excited.

Oh yes, the young blonde American was practically grinning from ear to ear.

Well, sort of…

He felt a bit uncomfortable to be honest… And his smile was probably a bit of a grimace.

But whatever, who cared?

He was happy!


Because he was excited!

Ah… Well…

He was excited, because his body was also excited.

The American had pointedly refused to let his brother see him completely naked for almost a good year out of embarrassment, muttering nonsense on chivalry and "heroes don't show their junk". But really, he had been a bit ashamed…

But no more!

Finally- he had grown!

Not only a full few inches, but he was able to… well… Heh.

Yeah, he was [i]that[/i] type of excited. He'd been measuring himself, and though he hadn't ever noticed a difference initially, after checking back to what he had written down of previous measurements, he finally felt happy and confident with himself again.

Sure, everything else about him was perfectly fine—perfectly shaped jaw line, sharp and handsome face, bright azure blue eyes, sun kissed skin and toned body with muscles on the way, but, well, he'd just been a late bloomer down there was all…

Wrapping his towel around his waist, Alfred resisted the urge to touch himself, chewing on his bottom lip as he held the towel on with one hand, the other hand pushing open the bathroom door, peeking out.


No one was there.

Sneaking out, he moved to his room quickly, still slightly damp from the shower, droplets of water falling from dark blonde hair and rolling along his sun kissed skin and chest and lightly muscled abdomen.

Pushing open his door, Alfred blinked widely, a light pink colour tinting his cheeks when he saw, well, Matthew on his bed.

Still holding onto the towel with one hand, his other lowered to cover his more private regions (now definitely larger, much to his excessive delight, and also a bit hard) which had started to tent the fluffy white fabric that contrasted to his light tan.

"Mattie," he addressed, flicking his head lightly to get some blonde hair from his face, a droplet of stray water running tantalizingly along his jaw before rolling down the strong column of his neck. "Whatcha doin' here, bro?"

Matthew looked up as his brother came into the room, and the first thing he noticed was his posture.

Now, being Arthur's adopted son, Matthew had picked up a few things about etiquette.

Such as how to stand and how to tell how someone is feeling by the way they stand. Matthew could clearly see that his brother was excited, but nervous at the same time, and with his hands covering himself, Matthew didn't really think twice.

Perhaps his brother was still embarrassed.

"Waiting for you" Matthew muttered before laying his head back against his brothers bed, looking up to the ceiling. "Arthur is going out with Uncle Francis tonight for some wine tasting thing, and they're both downstairs, but Francis is in his usual touchy feely mood and I don't like it" Francis touching Matthew was fine, he wasn't bothered by it, but Francis touching Arthur – neither himself or his brother liked that, and they always got scolded for telling the Frenchman off for touching what was theirs.

"Thought we could do something together, seeing as Arthur is about to leave us for the night again."

Alfred made a slight face at the mention of the Frenchman.

That guy was pretty creepy, and he distinctly remembered a time when he had tried to win over the little American and take him away from Arthur. That pervert was… Francis was too close to their guardian and for him to be all touchy feely with Matthew!? Uh-uh. No way in hell!!

Of course, his heart beat a bit harder when Matthew continued to speak, blue eyes wide and a brilliantly vacant grin on his face, smile twitching. "Huh? Huh? Do something?" he repeated, swallowing hard, Adams Apple bobbing.

Laughing obnoxiously loudly, Alfred reached up and rubbed the back of his head, damp blonde locks dripping tiny droplets of water onto his shoulders. "Y-Yeah, sure, could you, uh, give me a minute? I've gotta, um, get dressed and, t-take care of something!" Laughing loudly to cover his nervousness, Alfred turned his back to his brother, all but crab walking to his drawers, trying to hide his obvious dilemma down south.

Matthew knew that something was wrong the second that Alfred didn't jump on him.

That wasn't like his brother at all.

With a frown on his face Matthew stood from the bed, almost running at his brother to stop him from running away, effectively pinning the elder against his chest of drawers. Now, despite Matthew's soft and petite look he was a fierce hockey player, and knew how to use his body weight as strength to pin someone down or body slam them.

With his arms wrapped around Alfred's, securing them against the taller's side, Matthew's violet eyes glared to his brothers blue ones. "What's going on?"

At first, Alfred gasped out, winded. "Holy shit, Mattie!" he spluttered out as he found himself pressed into the drawers, turning his head to the side to see—oh god, scary Canadian face… "J-J-J-Jesus Christ! Don't give me that face, dude!" he continued to speak, giving a little squirm, just to test the other's grip.

Hmm, fairly tight, but not something he couldn't break. Not with his inhumane levels of strength anyway. "I want to get dressed, bro! Chillax! Let go of me already!!"

Not only did he want the fairer haired blonde to let go, but he wanted to grasp onto his towel which was slipping, the knot having come looser in the full on body slam, dipping along soft hips that were, though strong, slightly soft with the evidence of one too many hamburgers.

Except now, that towel was hiding more than the would-be love-handles.

His erection, to be precise, and said erection was receiving quite the amount of friction right now.

Breath fluttering slightly, Alfred swallowed thickly, his Adams Apple bobbing once more in his throat. "Dude, come on, lemme go," he practically whined, "Don't make me force you off!"

It was a real threat that had been used many a times before, and Matthew had often found himself on the floor or against a wall or pinned to something by the superhumanly strength of the American, the taller, broader, sun kissed and muscled body holding him there.

It was their way of playing these days…

At the so called threat Matthew grinned, tightening his hold on his dear brother, playfully whispering in the American's ear. "Is that a threat or a promise eh?" Whenever his brother would tackle him to the floor, or against a wall in some cases, Matthew would itch with pleasure, having the muscular body pressing him down, legs holding him firmly.

Matthew was never one to pass up an opportunity to have his brother flushed and heavy on top of him, ready for physical contact.

Matthew wasn't exactly the reserved boy that teachers had come to expect, at least when it came to dealing with his brother - and Arthur at times. "Come on Al, don't be such a hoser eh? You love me right, so either tell me what's wrong or.."

Grinning, Matthew pressed his lips to Alfreds neck "or I'll force it out of you eh?"

If Arthur had heard the two of them bang against the chest of drawers he didn't pay it any attention, instead shouting up to his boys a farewell and 'don't stay up too late' before heading out with the Frenchman.

Now Alfred was at Matthews mercy.
Not exactly fluffy this chapter, I think you'll be happy with the change.

The next chapter will be mature.

Prologue: [link]

Chapter 1: [link]

Chapter 2:

Chapter 3:

Chapter 4:

Chapter 5:

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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100 Ways to Annoy England

1. Insult his tea/cooking.

2. Speak French.

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

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

5. Touch his eyebrows.

6. Say his eyebrows look like fluffy caterpillars.

7. Call the British football soccer.

8. Randomly scream in his face.

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

10. Call him a punk.

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

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

13. Ask if Tinkerbelle is his friend.

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

15. Insist that he is a pedophile.

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

17. Tell him Sealand is a country.

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

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

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

21. Poke him repeatedly.

22. Brag about how awesome you are.

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

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

25. Ask him to wear a bikini.

26. Show him your 'new' bird imitations.

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

28. Insist that coffee is better than tea.

29. Insult the Queen/King.

30. Ask him if he knows Jack Sparrow.

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

32. Go commando during a World Meeting.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

41. Ask for a balloon.

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

43. Pop bubble wrap in his face.

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

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

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

47. Wear your underwear on his head.

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

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

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

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

52. Say that scones are just a burnt cookie.

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

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

55. Wear Speedos.

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

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

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

59. Ask him where babies come from.

60. Ask him where he parked the bat mobile.

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

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

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

64. Stack Red Solo Cups all over his desk.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

77. Pretend to give birth to a hippo.

78. Say 'in bed' after everything.

79. Practice your donkey impersonations loudly.

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

81. Run around in circles and make airplane noises.

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

83. Make suggestive noises.

84. Give him a hamburger.

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

86. Sing 'London Bridge is Falling Down!'

87. Scream that the worlds going to end.

88. Tap your fingers randomly.

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

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

91. Teach a parrot to repeat everything he says.

92. Randomly give thumbs up.

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

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

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

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

97. Repeat the last three words that he says.

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

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

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

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

1. Call him a 'potato eater.'

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

3. Give excessive hugs.

4. Give him a dirty magazine.

5. Dance around like a ballerina.

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

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

8. Tell him that Germany backwards sounds Jamaican.

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

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

11. Pee in his beer.

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

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

14. Lock him in a room with Russia.

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

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

17. Pretend to be a moose.

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

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

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

21. Sing like Alvin and the Chipmunks.

22. Randomly shout "LAND HOE!!".

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

24. Grunt whenever you walk.

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

26. Eat a leaf.

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

28. Make sure the condom is an extra small.

29. Ask him what gender he is.

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

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

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

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

34. Draw mustaches on all his pictures.

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

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

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

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

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

40. Gasp at everything he says.

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

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

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

44. Have Italy wear a bra on his head.

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

46. Repeat his name over and over.

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

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

49. Start singing "German Sparkle Party."

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

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

52. Make random beeping noises.

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

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

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

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

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

58. Pretend to be a submarine.

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

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

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

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

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

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

65. Tell him Italy is in love with Gilbert.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

75. Shout 'Foshizzal!'

76. Talk like Scarface.

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

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

79. Wink at him.

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

81. Start singing commercials.

82. Laugh at anything he says.

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

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

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

86. Pretend to be a snow man.

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

88. Act drunk and hang all over him.

89. Stare at him really close to his face.

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

91. Count on your fingers.

92. Walk backwards.

93. Go up the down escalator.

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

95. Make a bunch of weird faces.

96. Laugh at anything.

97. Start every sentence with 'Yo'.

98. When you laugh, laugh like a weirdo.

99. Leave 100 blank.

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


(Time skip)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

12.) Or Antonio's cum.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Please let me know if you spot mistakes!!

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

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

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

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

He turned to his twin brother.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

- Voltaire "Feathery Wings" [link]

I don't own Hetalia or HetaOni.
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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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"Well then, Mr. Wang, with that, I would like to officially welcome you to our academy," The Principal of the Catholic school stood up with his hand outstretched, "I hope you'll enjoy teaching here."

Getting out of his chair, Yao smiled and shook the hand before him. "Yes. I'm grateful for this opportunity. I won't disappoint you."

"I'm sure you won't. Why don't you get yourself acquainted with the school grounds before you start teaching on Monday? It'll be beneficial to you."

"I will. Thank you for the advice," Yao bowed slightly, excusing himself from the stuffy room.

The moment the door clicked shut behind him, the slender man slumped against the wall, sliding down until he sat on the ground. Relief. What he felt coursing through his body could be nothing less than bone shattering relief. He lifted his hands, laughing at how badly they were shaking. He held his composure during the interview but once he was out of sight, all of his strength left him. This job was his last hope before he had to crawl back home with his tail between his legs.

It was his dream to play the piano. From his earliest memories he loved the sound that floated out when he pressed those black and white keys. He didn't care about the praises his family and friends gave him, calling him a child prodigy. What he enjoyed the most was the feeling of freedom, how the world felt right, pieces falling perfectly into place. His life revolved around his passion and adoration for music. Barely turning 18, he quickly moved from his suburban home to the city in pursuit of his music career.

Yao slowly got to his feet, a self-deprecating smile painted on his lips. Out of habit, he touched the scar on his back. A fool. He was nothing more than a fool back then. He closed his eyes, trying his best to block out the memories of his early city life.

Feeling light-headed since he hadn't eaten for days, the Chinese man walked into the courtyard and laid beneath the shadow of an oak tree. He had to stop this, this self-pity. He might have been robbed of his music but at least he still had his life. Yes, he had to stop this. Starting today, he'll turn his life meaning from the piano to educating his students. Yao repeated that in his head like a mantra, like a prayer and lulled himself into sleep.

Someone was humming a soft, haunting melody. The blue sky dotted with puffy clouds greeted him as Yao slowly opened his eyes, tempted awake by the sound. Turning his head to the source, he saw someone sitting on the bench with his large back facing him. From his attire, Yao could tell he was a student.

Usually he would leave others alone but that melody the student was humming was enchanting him like a spell. Yao couldn't stop himself from approaching the teenager. As he got closer, his footsteps light as feathers, he saw that the child was sketching the flowerbed. He tilted his head, smiling. Of all the flowers he could've drawn, the fellow chose to make the focus of his sketch the most unassuming one- the daisy. Yao watched fascinated as one line became two, then three, turning into a petal. The simple strokes of his pencil upon the paper became the halo of light surrounding the flower. So entranced by the calloused hands creating such delicate beauty, Yao whispered breathlessly, "How beautiful…."

The student leaped out of the bench as if someone had stabbed him, all of his materials falling to the ground.

"Oh, I didn't mean to scare you," Yao rounded the bench.

He reached out to pick up the notepad but it was snatched from beneath his hands. He looked up, their eyes met, and then the student ran away. For a long, long while Yao just sat there dazed as he watched the back of the student get smaller and smaller until it was gone. The stinging pain from his shoulder finally tore him from his thoughts. He sighed. He felt as if he was robbed of something precious yet again. It was the first time in his life he saw amethyst eyes. He wanted to look into them once more, to gaze into their depths. For the first time in his life, he thought something was more beautiful than the melody from a grand piano.  Yao shook his head to clear his head. Whatever he thought, nothing would come of it. As he began walking towards the other direction, Yao gave one more backward glance.
Continuation found here: [link] (Well...sorta of a continuation....)

I was deciding to upload this or not...but I went, "What the hay."

I'm DYING to write a few fics and "Confessions" is one of them. However, I am very hesitant to begin because everything I write is now turning into multi-chapter!! WHY?!?!? OTL

I'm unsure if this is how "Confessions" will begin. I think I'm going to tweak it a bit, but it's more or less along the same line. If people remember =v= the beginning of this fics develops into this: [link] *insert derp face*
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Pairing: Ivan x Yao from APH
Rating: PG
Summary: Stuck in a snowstorm during the holidays, Yao broods over the fact he's all alone in the world. Ivan, on the other hand, wants to disprove that thought.

The sun was beginning to dip below the horizon; taking with it its' cherished warmth.
Unseeingly, shimmering gold eyes stared out of the cave's entrance. White. For hours and hours on end, snow obscured his vision as it continued to pour down from the sky. Not a hint of another color, not even a single sound penetrated the blizzard's barriers. It was as if the snow had closed him off from the world; as if it wanted to hide him from the war, the bloodshed, the ugliness of it all.

He shivered, pulling the wool blanket tighter around him. So far away from home and unable to see the setting sun, he still knew when night approached. There wasn't a specific reason why he knew. Perhaps it was from experience and old age or perhaps it was the tightening sting of the scar marring his back, but nonetheless a sinking sensation filled his heart.

"You looked troubled, Yao." China twitched at the way the other nation said his name- teasing, savoring. Intimate. "Maybe I can help you relieve the stress, da?"

China continued to stare at the howling storm outside, pointedly avoiding the gleaming lavender eyes boring into him. "I don't need any of your so called help, Russia."

To China's irritation, an amused chuckle met his stony reply. He clenched his jaws, willing himself to stay still, to let none of his volatile emotions show on his face. Russia was trying to bait him; the sadistic nation revealed in people's misery and pain. Enough was enough. He was sick and tired of being a puppet show- dancing and singing to the tunes of the Western countries. Never again would he allow any of them the satisfaction of seeing his inner anguish.

"My, aren't you moody today?" Wrapping his arms around his knees, Russia smiled sweetly at China. "I bet you I know why you're in such a bad mood."

"Do you now?" China asked without much interest.

"You were thinking of your siblings and how you'll spend another year without them."

For a moment, China sat stoic still. Russia's answer echoed hollowly inside the cave until at last the final syllable was swallowed by the dank, cold walls. The sound of the roaring wind retreated as if it felt the tension rise between the two men. In its' absence, a suffocating silence reigned. Slowly, China turned his eyes towards the younger nation, seeing him for the first time since they began traveling together. The fire sputtered and crackled, sending sparks flying in the air between them.

"Russia, we are allies for the duration of this war and I'm grateful for all the help you've given me so far," China said in a soft, but unwavering voice, "But don't even begin to think you understand me. You know nothing about me or my family."

"My poor deluded, Yao. You think the only people that understand you are your precious brothers and sisters. Other than your broken family members, no one else can get close to you," Russia laughed, "You'd be wrong on both counts."

Still smiling, Russia cocked his head. Violet eyes raked over the slender man, lingering here and there, taking in every minute detail. The hair on the back of China's neck rose from the unnerving way Russia gazed at him. Over the decades, he became accustomed to the business like way the other nations eyed him. How much more could they take from him? What other unfair treaties could they force him to sign? More than once in the past, his northern neighbor gave him the same kind of cold, calculating look. However, right now over the flickering fire, his eyes spoke of a different kind of interest. It was warm and almost inviting. It was something China didn't want to explore further.

"What is it that you're trying to say?" China snapped with quiet ferocity.

"I've told you over and over, Yao, that no one knows you better than I do," Russia stated with a chuckle, "You've noticed haven't you? How over the years my eyes strayed towards you? I've watched you for so long that I know what you're thinking just by the smallest changed in your facial features."

China laughed caustically in reply, "Is that suppose to me impress me? That you're my own personal stalker?"

"No, of course not," Russia giggled at the silly Chinese and his silly comments. Stifling his laughter, he gazed at China with amusement. He wasn't done explaining yet. "I'm simply telling you, you have no one else, but me now. Right now, no one but me cares if you smile or cry. Hong Kong, Taiwan, Korea…all of them abandoned you." Russia said with a smile, "Or you actually abandoned them. I wonder how they felt when their older brother, China, had to give them away as collateral. Did they cry themselves to sleep the first few nights? And Japan….How is the sword wound holding up by the way? I haven't asked, but what with the recent pillaging of your cities and villages, it hasn't reopened has it?"

"Be quiet…."

Ignoring China's whispered warning, Russia continued, "You're alone, Yao. Beaten and alone. You have no one. You haven't had anyone to call family for years. When you asked for help to fight against your own brother, no one came to help you. No one but me. So tell me again who-"

"I TOLD YOU TO SHUT UP!" China banged his fist violently against the rocks behind him and the cave trembled from the force.

Loose pebbles from the cave wall lightly rained down upon the two nations, but it offered no distraction. Hate and displeasure apparent for all to see, the fire's shadow danced across their faces as they stared at one another without a word, without a sound.

Fury, rage, loathing coursed through China's veins. How dare he? How dare he?!  How dare the Russian mention the shambled state his family was in? He had no right. No right! It was their fault that his family was reduced to this. They tore everyone away from him. He could still remember the smirk on England's face as he led Hong Kong away. And Japan….His sweet, little, naïve brother seduced by the Western ways; his mind poisoned by their sweet words. His brother- his Ju Hua- leaving him to side with his new found friends….

Just like that, everything he wanted to hurl at his companion- the stinging words, the hurtful phrases- vanished. China slumped against the wall, no longer caring if he seemed weak or strong in front of the wintry nation. Tired- all his strength leaving with his anger- he closed his eyes and sighed.

What was the point? Why get angry? He should be use to this by now. The feeling of betrayal, disappointment plagued him for far too long. It was his anger that held him together till now; it was his wish to wreck havoc, to get revenge on those that carved him into pieces that fueled him.

But no more. No more….

Everything lost meaning the moment pale, shaky hands held the katana and sliced into his flesh.

He just wanted his family. He missed having his little brothers and sisters sitting around him on the dinner table- smiling, laughing, and yes, even bickering. He just wanted it all back.

China swallowed, a bitter taste in his mouth.

Now, he only wished this war to be over. There was no point in reminiscing the past when the one he was fighting was the last person he wanted to hurt or be hurt by. For his people, he would see this through, but he was so weary. So, so goddamn weary.

"Yao?" Russia's quietly called out for him, "Are you mad at me?"

Eyes still shut tight, China couldn't see the blonde's expression. However, he could imagine Russia masking- but not quite successful- his condescending grin with a look of pity and concern. China didn't want to deal with this right now. He didn't want the Russian poking and prodding all his hurts and aches with salt-tipped words designed to wound. Not when his defenses were down. Not when everything he was thinking and feeling could be easily read on his face. In the end, China decided it would be best to ignore him.

Minutes ticked by. The night grew late. China breathed a sigh of relief when Russia remained silent. He snuggled deeper into his blanket, taking this chance to rest his eyes. It had been a long day that day and his little bout with his neighbor didn't help matters either. The temptation of sleep was just pulling at him when Russia's muffled words jerked him back awake. He lifted his startled eyes towards his companion; his earlier intentions completely forgotten. "What did you say?"  

Huddled in his little corner, Russia buried his face deeper against his knees. "I said I was sorry. Please don't be mad at me….Please don't."

China's lips parted in surprise. The confidence and arrogance from before all but disappeared; in its' place was a nation curled up in a tight ball, trembling. Completely perplexed at Russia's drastic change, China silently wondered what he should do. It was a fact he didn't like the younger man, but they were allies. To him, Russia was insufferable on most occasions, yet he owed him. When Russia was baiting him, what he said was the truth; China couldn't deny it. The whole world had turned their backs on him, letting him fend for himself against Japan. The only one who offered help was Russia. Oh, China knew Russia wasn't doing it for him. Nonetheless, it didn't diminish the genuine gratitude he felt when he finally had someone to stand by his side.

A whimper from Russia's side of the cave caused China to purse his mouth. He debated for a few moments longer and then, against his better judgment, stood up. In a few short, strides he crossed the cave to where Russia sat and threw his blanket at him.

"Wrap this around you before you freeze to death!" He flopped down beside the Russian, purposely looking away from teary lavender eyes peeking at him from beneath the cover. He scowled, turning his blushing face away.  "What are you looking at? Hurry and wrap that around you! You're cold aren't you?"

"You're not angry at me?" Russia asked.

China shook his head and was rewarded with a heavy body hurled at him. Wet cheeks rubbed against his face and the Chinese nation didn't have the heart to push him away.

"Are you always such a cry baby?" China asked without heat.

Russia nodded. "Only if I know it'll help me get a girl."

China sucked in an indignant breath at the unspoken implication. Russia just called him a girl! But before he could vent, Russia wrapped the blanket around them tighter, whispering against his neck. "This feels nice. Can I hold you a bit longer, Yao? At least until I'm warm again?"

Will not be continued. Story terminated
This is an earlier version of "Secret Santa". However, I thought it was too dark and depressing halfway writing it and so switched to the more fluffy and cavity inducing version, "Secret Santa" instead.

These are the scenes that would've appeared had I continued the story:

1) Each of them discuss how they celebrate the winter season. Ivan mentions he secretly misses Christmas ever since the Soviet Union banned it. Yao says he might not have Christmas, but he has the Dongzhi festival instead. They exchange stories about their past and how they celebrated each holiday. They find that they both yearn for the time when they were carefree and together with their family.

2) Ivan tells Yao he should kiss him because it’s the thing to do when you’re under a mistletoe. Yao admonishes him since there’s not a single mistletoe around. Nonetheless, he admits to himself that he was lonely and Ivan wasn’t such a bad guy after all. He kisses him on the cheeks. “Happy holidays, Ivan.”
^This would be the ending
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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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"Let's play a game."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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



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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

– quick wave flashed before him and –

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

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

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

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

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

He kept his gaze on everything else except Kiku.

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

Kiku flinched.

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

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

"To… tomodachi ni natte kuremasen ka?"

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

– and then suddenly Kiku moved –

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

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


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

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


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

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

But anyway, this was written as a spur-of-the moment thing (again), so apologies if it sounds a little cluttered and incoherent as some parts. It was still written with very much love though ♥
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Character(s)/Pairing(s): Germany/North Italy.
Rating/Genre: PG-13 / Introspective, Fluff, Friendship.
Summary: Regardless of how he feels inside, Veneziano is always smiling.


Veneziano always smiles.

He smiles even as a child, busily cleaning away in Mister Austria's house; when he dusts at drab, dreary paintings mounted upon floral-patterned walls; when he scrubs at the mould hiding in-between the linoleum tiles; when he hunches over the kitchen sink, wiping the dishes dry before putting them away.

He smiles, even when he trips himself going up the stairs, or when he unintentionally knocks over things on Germany's desk, because he was talking to Germany, and talking to Germany makes him happy, and that also makes him excited and Veneziano likes to move a lot when he's excited and… oh, that vase just fell over, sorry Germany, ve–

Germany shouts at him, of course; just like how he always shouts at Veneziano to run faster whenever they are training; like how he shouts at Veneziano because he threw the pin instead and not the grenade; or like how he shouts at Veneziano (as he rushes in to help) in the battlefield because Veneziano cried out to him.

Germany shouts at him, and sometimes puts him in headlocks, but after that, he also sighs, and then tells Veneziano, do be careful next time, all right?

So Veneziano continues to smile, even though he's a little worried now, and nervous, and maybe even a little scared…

(He will come back, won't he? Germany's strong, ve, he will definitely come back–)

He doesn't want to make Germany worry again, but he also doesn't know what else to do when he's afraid, when he's afraid that Germany wouldn't return, just like how he didn't-

"Hey Germany! Germaaaaany, ciao!"

"Italy? What are you doing here?" Germany frowns at him, though not unkindly.

Veneziano only beams brightly, holding up the basket he'd packed from home. "I prepared some food for you, Germany! Please eat it later when you're hungry."

"Ah," Germany blinks, surprised, but he accepts the basket from Veneziano. "Thank you."

"Also Germany, ve, let's play pretend for a bit! Just for five seconds, I'll be 'Germany' and you are 'Italy' okay?"

"Huh? That is a very strange request, but all right…"

"Yay!" Veneziano smile widens as he lifts his left arm up in a salute. He sets his face into the sternest expression he can muster, raising his voice and he says, "Right, listen up now, Italy! Do not get injured! Take caution not to catch a cold! Remember to put on your clothes when you wake up – do not go pant-less when you leave the tent! That is all."

Germany stares blankly, brows furrowed slightly. "Do I really sound like that?"

And then he sighs, before breaking into a smile. "You should salute with your right hand, Italy."

He raises his own hand in salute, lips still quirked in the tiniest of smiles, his eyes crinkling at the edges. "Understood. I'll remember to do all of that."

Veneziano smiles, even when he's scared and he's nervous, and when he's crying right now ("Ah! W-why are you crying?!") – because he doesn't want the people he cared for (he doesn't want Germany) to worry and fret over him.

He always smiles, so that when they finally come back again, they will see it and return the same smile back at him.



Based on this strip: [link]

Written for my owlbro/friend, counterheist, because she was having a crappy week and needed some cheering-up. As it was written at 5AM, it may or may not come across as a little disjointed in some places. Also, hey, look, it's not a Giripan fic, heh!
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OMG YOU GUYS. I barely posted this like 5 minutes ago and so many faves and views X3 I love you guys~!
LMAO. I was too lazy to create America's hands.... Anyway, I made this based off the DirectTV ad I saw on TV somewhere this week XD I felt that America fit the dude :P And for Cuba, Russia, and South Korea, I know that the 3 had a type of grudge against America. Idk. So, Enjoy? XP
Based off DirectTV commercial.
Hetalia by Hidekaz Himaruya.
Link to ad: [link]
Made in Paint with the Pencil tool :P
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Singing Through Bars

Axis Powers Hetalia/Deadman Wonderland

By: Red-Stained-December

Genre: Horror/Supernatural

Summery: Slit the throat of reason and reality. Wake up to this nightmare that will never end. A puppet of their sick perversions' appetite, will I be trapped inside this hell until I die? So make me your Deadman, stuck in your "Wonderland". Watch me bleed.

Rating: M

Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to our little hide-away. Believe me; this place is deep under the radar, under the very foundation of this prison in fact! Welcome to a Wonderland of gruesome horrors: The Cadaver Carnivals! Held once a week on this private station, pay a pretty penny and you too can be part of the hair-raising fun! Watch as your favorite contestants battle it out to the end! If the loser happens to live, however, do not miss the gory After-Games performed by the lovely Dr. Natalya Arlovskaya. This offer is for a limited time only, so don't chicken out my little birds.
The prologue to that dream I had a while ago. Can you guess who voices for the commercial? XD Would YOU join in the fun? AND, if you hppen to know Deadman Wonderland, yes, the summey is snippets of the opening. Oddly enough the opening song was n English, which also caught my attention. Here it is if you wat to listen: [link]

Chapter 1: [link]
Chapter 2: [link]
Chapter 3: [link]
Chapter 4: [link]
Chapter 5:
Chapter 6:
Chapter 7:
Chapter 8:
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He had come a long way, as they all had. From every one of the four corners of the Earth they had been called from their respective schools and it had been a long time coming. He traveled all the way from Germany to this island in the middle of the Pacific Ocean to finally come to the main branch of Soul Academy. After working six long, hard years he had finally gained recognition, and with him being the top of the class by a virtual landslide, he was the only one to be called from Berlin in the past ten years to meet the Headmaster of all the schools worldwide. Even more so, he would be the first Meister of German decent in over two hundred years. Ludwig sighed heavily and ran a hand through his blonde, slicked hair. After all the years of hard work, training, and dedication, he was finally selected to serve the Keeper of Souls with a weapon partner. He felt the butterflies tickling his insides in anticipation as he thought about his new partner. He didn't even know who it would be just yet. Apparently they were to be united under the blessings of the Headmaster before being sent on various missions.

Two bodies flying past him almost caused him to fall down the two hundred and forty-seven stairs he had just climbed, barely grabbing a rail just in time. "Alfred! Slow down! You're going to kill someone if you keep this up!" a soft voice called. Ludwig looked up to see two boys who looked closely related dashing up the stairs. Or rather, one was rushing up the remaining steps with the other practically flying by his arm. They were both dressed in the blue suits of the school uniform, matching the one Ludwig himself wore, but they seemed more at home in the city-like academy. The main difference between the German and the two other boys hiking their way up the stairs were the bands of cloth that encased their upper arms. The black cross of blades under the physical embodiment of souls signaled their position as weapons, which explained everything. Weapons were trained by the personal weapons of the Keeper of Souls, also known as The Guardians or Protectors.

The one in the lead had brilliant golden hair with a stubborn cowlick standing erect from his bangs. From what the German had caught of the other's appearance, he had deep, ocean blue eyes framed by glasses. The other had longer hair and a stray curl that made him look all the more innocent with eyes that were much paler in comparison to the others, making it look more lavender than blue. "If we're late to the opening ceremony, we're gonna be dead! He'll kill us!" They took the steps two at a time until they crossed over the top and disappeared through the entrance arch of the school. Ludwig raised a questioning brow at such peculiar antics. There was still ten minutes left before the opening ceremony and he began to wonder if they had the right time. The more he thought about it as he trudged up the stairs, the more he questioned. Did those boys have it right? Did he have it right? Had he left room for those unforeseen "Just-in-Case" scenarios? He began to doubt himself and his own understanding of facts and directions until he was almost running up the stairs at a breakneck speed and through the arch.

Trees were in bloom during the chilly months of not-quite-Spring, and the long lonely nights of the not-quite-Winter. The flowers that flitted lightly down from the branches shed light pink petals to the gentle wind that caressed the leaves, causing them to dance on their stems. A path cut between the columns of trees, leading deeper into the school and into his future, casting him farther from who he used to be. Ludwig felt a great pride swelling in his chest as he made his way through the rain of velvet petals. While there was that nagging fear that clung to him, despite his most valiant of efforts, he also felt a growing calm fill him as he continued on his way. The buildings on either side of him were constructed of old bricks and completed with high, stained-glass windows.

There was no mistake; this was the most peaceful place on earth. With the high-peaked rooftops and the sweet scent of cherry-blossoms, Ludwig could not imagine a more calming scenery than this. He took a deep breath, savoring the taste of the fresh and clean air. To live here, it was surly a dream come true. A smile tugged at his lips, despite the seriousness of the situation he was entering.

"Ve~, they're very pretty, aren't they?" a voice, bubbling with energy commented off to his left. Ludwig turned to be met with a shorter boy, perhaps a year or two younger than himself, looking up at the falling petals with large brown eyes. His brown hair blew in the breeze, a stray curl of hair protruded oddly at an angle. His uniform was slightly different than Ludwig's, having the blue plaid pants and white uniform shirt with the black tie, but he wore only the beige, sweater instead of the light blue school jacket. It was a fashionable choice; Ludwig had to admit. The light tan colour really set off his eyes, making the bronze gaze alluring and hard to pull away from. The brunette smiled sweetly, his hands clasped placidly behind his back as he turned his attention to the German in the path. "You're one of the new Meisters, si? I'm Feliciano Vargas." The armband gave away his position of weapon.

"Ja, I am Ludwig Beilschmidt."

The bright eyes grew wider as the smiling lips turned into a small 'O', which was something he had expected to happen among those who heard his name. Beilschmidt was a name that anyone in the Soul Academies would recognize, especially in the main branch since it was the name of one of the instructors. Ten years ago, to the day, the Keeper of Souls had hand selected a student who had never attended his schools; who had never even shown up on the map. Ten years ago to the day, to perhaps the very hour, the weapon known as Gilbert Beilschmidt walked over this path, having been called away from his family and younger brother in Berlin.

Feliciano's smile returned, brighter than ever as he ran, or rather, pranced to Ludwig and took the taller boy's hand, catching the German off guard. He may have been mistaken, but there was a moment of a feeling that was much like being electrocuted, but not as painful. If he had to explain it, he would use the analogy of the click of two puzzle pieces coming together.

"You're Luddy! Gilby talks about you all the time! He can't wait to see you; it's been a long time since you ever heard from him, hasn't it? He has been acting funny ever since he heard that you had been chosen to come here!"

Ludwig's face flushed at the endearing name, no one ever shortened his name before. Especially since he wasn't very fond of pet names, but before he could say anything the boy turned behind him with a look of curious surprise. "Feli!" a voice called. The two boys from earlier on the stairs were down a side road calling for the brunette. The one with blue eyes was walking with his hands in his jacket pockets, the buttons undone making him look a little sloppy in appearance. The other wore their clothing properly, not really standing out much if he had been near any other students.

"Alfred! Mattie!" Feliciano called, turning his back on Ludwig to wave the attention of the other weapons, "Over here! You won't believe who I have with me!"

The two blondes looked up in surprise before the one with the open jacket jogged up the stairs and threw an amicable arm over the brunette's shoulders, "Who is this? Come on Feli, I'm ready to be amazed." In reality he sounded quite the opposite, looking rather suspicious and dull. The blue eyed one spoke with a strange accent Ludwig had never heard before in his entire life.

"Alfred," the other boy, through the process of elimination that made this one Mattie, sighed, "you don't need to put up an attitude with the new boy. I know you don't like Meisters but you can't very well wield yourself." The violet eyed boy smiled and held a hand out to shake with the German, "I'm Matthew Williams. This is my brother Alfred Jones. He's from America, I was raised in Canada."

Ludwig shook his hand stiffly, feeling quite out of place with the trio before him, "How can you be brothers when you were both raised so very far from each other."

"Well, we're half-brothers. I'm the older one and I stayed with my father while my mother went off to America. What was your name again?"

"Beilschmidt." There was a brief silence before that was shattered by the rather rude language of the American as he scowled and looked away.

Feliciano smiled sweetly and pat Alfred on the shoulder, "We should be going, the opening ceremony is starting soon and the other Meisters are already at the courtyard. They'll be wondering where the weapons are." Without waiting, he took Ludwig's hand again (and there was that connection again) and ran down the stairs with the two brothers following behind.

"No one would be looking for you Feli," Alfred laughed as they ran through the side streets towards the heart of the city. Wonder what that comment was for.

What Ludwig noted was that all the students lived on their own, virtually adults in their own right. The buildings were like a combination of dorms and apartments, towering high in the tight confines of the school grounds which sprawled out to its limits on the four-by-three mile island. From the training Ludwig had put himself under before arriving, he could run the entire perimeter, twice, and still not break a sweat. As they continued, he could see the front gates of the school, which took up at least forty percent of the surface area. By this time, other students were coming into view, even some persons of whom he guessed was the staff.

"The bloody hell have you gits been!" a student ahead shouted, he was also a weapon, and with the growing members in their group, Ludwig was feeling more and more out of place.

Feli leaned over to Ludwig and whispered, "Arthur Kirkland, Alfred and Mattie's cousin from Britain. He's really funny, but gets mad easy, and when he's mad he's scary!"

"The entire purpose of whispering is so the object of the conversation cannot hear you Feliciano," a short, rather angry looking young man with the same sunny blonde hair as the two brothers growled. That didn't catch his attention however. No, it was the terrifyingly thick, creepy-crawler, bushy eyebrows. The German almost slapped the newcomer across the face to rid him of the hairy caterpillars that had somehow crawled just above the poor boy's eyes. It took him a few seconds to realize those were the boy's eyebrows, though he couldn't believe eyebrows could be like, well, THAT!

Feli jumped and cried, clinging onto Ludwig tightly, "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Please don't hurt me! I surrender!" The German winced at how loud the Italian's screams were. Hopefully he wouldn't have to get used to this touchy-feely stuff. He wasn't really one for so much physical contact.

"Yes, yes, I know you surrender! That's all you're really good for," the British boy barked, older than the other three, he carried the air of an adult. It actually made him appear pompous and arrogant to Ludwig, even though he himself had that same disposition. The green eyes met the sky blue as Arthur looked the German up and down, "You're a new face; if you're looking for the other Meisters they're over there." He threw his thumb over his shoulder to another group of students, all wearing armbands similar to his own.

"Yes, thank you. I will see you all at the ceremony shortly I guess." Ludwig pried Feliciano loose from his shirt and started toward the other group.

Feli waved him off, "See you soon!"

That boy was so peculiar, but maybe it was just because he was an Italian. He had heard that Italians were stereotypically like that, though that may be unfair to any Italians . . . In the Meister group there were two other boys that stood out the most to him, despite the crowds, or perhaps it was because the others in the crowd were relatively normal compare to these ones. The first he noticed was really because he was tall, very tall for someone with such a young face. And this being an island in the southern Pacific, the scarf draped snuggly about his neck was so out of place it was wrong. His nose was a little bigger than average, but everything was a little bigger than average about the young man. Everything from his height to his round, plump cheeks that carried a healthy flush and even the large violet eyes that made it seem as though a child was decapitated and their head placed on this man's shoulders. The thought was rather disturbing.

The other Meister he had noted wasn't tall, or out of dress code, or even spectacular to be worthy of noticing. That is, if he wasn't groping a fellow Weapon Meister, and Ludwig also highlighted the fact that it was another male; though by the looks of some of the female onlookers, he had no preference. The boy being molested was a brunette and was obviously not enjoying the brash actions. The tall, scarf-clad young man also seemed interested in the mousy boy caught in the perverted blonde's grasp, but they had a degree of similarities. If it wasn't for obvious genetic differences, they could have been related. Tensions were building in the Meister group; that went without saying. Especially since the taller student looked . . . sadistically angry.

"Ah! I-Ivan, it was just harmless fun! I don't mean anything by it!" the blonde cowered, hiding behind his latest victim who looked like he wanted to tip over and die, poor kid.

The Meister with the beige scarf smiled childishly, a cruel glint in his baby-like violet eyes, "Your fun is illegal in many countries Francis Bonnefoy. If I were you, I'd educate myself of laws regarding sexual harassment."

The way both of them talked, they were defiantly not from the same country, and the names gave everything away. Ludwig wondered how they all knew each other, but they had probably had contact for the past few hours, or more. The German entered the group soundlessly, no one really taking note of him as he watched the events unfolding. Apparently the French boy, Francis, decided to take a break from his hobby. Lucky too, Ludwig arrived at the best possible time.

Ivan was chatting quietly with Toris, his Lithuanian friend from the school situated in the Northern section of Europe. What he wasn't too fond of was that his little sister was with him . . . somewhere. She jumped out at the most random times, terrifying him to tears as she demanded marriage. After their elder sister Katyusha was called away to the SWMA, Ivan had to become the adult at age ten and he just couldn't discipline the small girl. This caused some babying, coddling, favoritism, and . . . one-sided possessive love. Not from him, it was her. All her. And fuck was she scary! She was most likely lost somewhere in the school; Ivan must've given her the slip. And though it was cruel to leave her calling for him and attacking random civilians, he really didn't care for the collateral damage. Better them than him as he would say. And if she found him with little Toris, well, it wouldn't be the first time his hands were made useless. But the Lithuanian always bounced back, much like a Jack-in-a-Box.

"I-I wonder when the Headmaster will arrive," the brunette stuttered. He was no more comfortable standing beside an aggravated Ivan than he was in the grasp of a perverted Frenchman. One could even say that it was a 'From-Bad-to-Worse' situation.

The tall Russian nodded contemplatively, "It is quite rude to keep us waiting such a long time, and the ceremony starts in three minutes. I would think he would have appeared by now."

"Perhaps he is ill?"

Ivan smiled, "Toris, that is a very dumb thought, I find it amusing." Toris' face coloured in shame, why did Ivan always have to be so harsh? It always came down on him of all people!

Ludwig watched the exchanges with a quirked brow. Many were like himself, having just arrived and still carrying suitcases and bags. Others, like Ivan and Toris, had arrived beforehand and were already settled into the homes they would occupy with whoever their Weapons would be. Speaking of Weapons, Ludwig scanned the surrounding area in hopes of finding his brother. The only thing he had of the albino was a ten year old picture of the two of them the day he left. A small little prayer wormed its way into his mind as he sighed in defeat, not finding anyone who looked even remotely like the older Beilschmidt.

'Please let him be here. I have to see him again.'


"There're a lot of them this year, but the weapons still outnumber the Meisters. Some are going to be disappointed. It's a little cruel we round up all the Weapons, but keep a tight funnel on the Meisters coming in, don't you think?" the laid back young man sat on the window sill, watching the groups gather. The Weapons watched the Meisters shyly and the Meisters stood there a bit awkward like. It was cute, sort of like the Basket Boy Auctions in High School. "At least these Meisters have the decency not to look at the weapons like merchandise."

A shorter man with dark brown eyes that reflected years his body did not show stood beside him, looking out to the growing crowds of last minute arrivals. "This year there is only one more Weapon than Meister, but I doubt that will be a problem. I am quite curious about the blonde on the outskirts of the Meister group. He doesn't mingle and stands distant to both groups."

The first speaker snickered, "That was always Ludwig. My baby brother has hardly changed. He's grown into a fine young man."

"What has caught my attention is the fact that he has already found his Weapon."

The red eyes turned to the dark brown with surprise written all over the pale face. The other Meisters would have two weeks to find their Weapons, more than enough time to do so, but Ludwig had only just arrived and he had immediately found the Weapon to complement him! A cocky grin then pulled at the courners of the albino's lips. "Just like his big brother huh? It's because we share that Awesome Gene that runs in the Beilschmidt family."

"And you're not curious to hear who it was?"

"Who? Was it the Brit? 'Cause if it was the Brit I'm going to laugh my ass off."

"No, it was your student, Feliciano Vargas."

The albino blinked as the information processed before laughing obnoxiously loud, "Oh is that boy in for a surprise!"
AND HERE IT IS!!! I cannot wait to get to the next chapter, that is where we get more into the oher characters and Ludwig is reunited with his brother! YAY!! Please review! PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE!!! I will kiss your feet if you do!! I'll have the next chapter soon. If you haven't seen my journal, here was that last push to get me writing this.


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