Kaede's Hetalia Thread

[Kaede]

Hello! I'm new here and I love the Hetalia fanfiction I find here so I wanted to add some of my own! Feel free to leave me requests, but I'd rather not write too much romance, and I like having a prompt so I know what to write story-wise. Okay... *takes a deep breath* Here goes. Oneshot/drabble/fanfic #1.

The last things on France's mind were the two colonies of his who were upstairs together, sitting in front of a huge mirror and doing each other's makeup. They could easily do it on their own, France knew. Besides, he had a million other things he had to be doing at the moment.

Canada finished getting ready within merely a few minutes. He had put in a pair of contacts, brushed his hair with a bit of gel, and covered his face with liquid and powder foundation. Seychelles had offered to let him borrow more makeup, but the foundation was quite enough for him. He wasn't playing a female role, after all. He hadn't put his costume on yet, he would do that backstage. For now he was wearing an old button-up shirt and sweatpants. There was no need to be formal when one was getting covered in makeup.

Seychelles, on the other hand, had spent the last half hour doing her hair.

She was now putting makeup on. Since she was a bit short on time and looked a bit tired, Canada offered to help her. Seychelles nearly refused, but Canada had nothing to do, so she agreed.

Canada held her eye closed while he traced her eyelid carefully with the what looked to him like a black pencil. He didn't mess up, which he was very proud of, since he had overheard Monaco complaining about how difficult eyeliner was. Next he took out a round brush thing covered in black, which Seychelles explained was for eyelashes. Carefully, Canada twirled the brush through her eyelashes, careful not to get any in her eye. He didn't realize the black stuff was also on the length of the brush, not just the tip, so he accidentally brushed some on her nose.

Quickly, Canada found makeup remover, put some on a cotton ball, and tried to wipe the black stuff away. As he did, Seychelles' eyes started to water. "Eh? No no no, it's okay!" Canada dabbed under Seychelles' eyes with a tissue, trying not to mess up the makeup. But Seychelles' eyes fluttered closed. Canada was confused for a second, but he understood just in time to relocate the tissue to right under her nose.

Seychelles didn't have time to protest before her breath started to hitch. "Heh... hitschuu! Hikkshuu!" Her cheeks turned red. "I'm sorry!" She took the tissue from Canada's hands and blew her nose, then adding foundation on top so no one would know.

"Are you all right?" Canada asked.

Seychelles nodded frantically. "Uh huh, yep, indeed I am."

That only made Canada more worried. He put a hand to her forehead. He held it there for a moment before pulling back. "You really shouldn't be dancing today."

"I have the main part!" Seychelles protested.

"Then ask your understudy." Canada replied. "Yours is Ukraine, right?"

"Ukraine doesn't know the part well! Besides, I feel fine." Seychelles crossed her arms. She knew her brother hated fighting, so she knew that she would prevail if she kept arguing long enough.-

"Fine."

After Canada helped Seychelles put on eyeshadow (colourful powder?), lipstick (gah! it turned my fingers red and I barely even touched it! *frantically washes hands*), lipliner (is this a red version of the black pencil I traced your eyes with?) contouring (dark powder foundation?) and blush (pink powder foundation?), they were ready to go.

Seychelles made Canada promise that he would not tell France that she was sick. Canada was hesitant. On one hand, he loved his sister and wanted to keep her trust. But on the other hand, he loved his sister and wanted her to be all right.

Canada debated it during the car ride to the theater, while he was putting on his costume (which included a kilt which he despised), and every moment until he was backstage.

It was James's wedding day to Effie. In the morning, when James woke up, he saw La Sylphide, or the sylph. James instantly fell in love with the sylph and forgot about his wedding with Effie. However, the sylph escaped before James could embrace her.

Canada played James. He began onstage, and Seychelles, dressed in white with a flower crown, danced around him. Canada did piqués towards Seychelles while she did grand-jetés-en-tournant, so it appeared like Canada chased after her. Hungary, playing Effie, stood on pointe in silhouette in the background.

Was it just the lighting, or did Seychelles look more pale than normal?

Canada knew she would never show any sort of weakness, not even a broken leg, not onstage.

During the wedding preparations, Gurn, James' rival, learns that James loves someone other than Effie. He attempts to woo Effie, who turns him down. While Effie dreams of her wedding with James, James is truly in love with the sylph.

Prussia didn't want to take the role of Gurn, but it was up to France, not him. Every time Prussia did glissés towards Hungary, she glared at him with a look that said "I will hit you with a frying pan as soon as this ballet is over." Then she calmly posed in an attitude facing Canada.

Meanwhile, backstage, Seychelles was coughing like crazy, burying her face into her hands so she made less noise. She was exhausted just one dance in. Since he didn't have to be onstage yet, England stood with her, giving her water and rubbing her back. Canada couldn't help but keep stealing glances backstage to make sure she was okay. He swore that if she wasn't, he would sneak backstage to help, whether he was supposed to or not. Soon England had to leave, so Seychelles sat against the wall, trying to stay quiet so the audience wouldn't hear her. England had left her his handkerchief, which she soon smothered her nose in to stifle several sneezes.

"Hxxn! Kshh! Ha-chhxx!"

Madge, an old woman, comes into the hall where James' and Effie's wedding preparations are taking place. James finds Madge sinister and dislikes seeing her where he last saw the sylph, but Effie lets Madge tell the fortunes of the guests. Madge says that Effie will marry Gurn, and James is furious. James threatens Madge, who curses him.

England, dressed in a dark cloak (in which fangirls might find him quite attractive), played Madge. Canada and England acted out a fight, which Hungary broke up. England had a few speaking lines saying how Prussia will marry Hungary; both of whom had to try to hide their anger onstage. Canada did a hitch kick at England, and England produced a cauldron and chanted eerie things.

Backstage, Seychelles was only half-aware that she was supposed to be onstage soon. Her coughing had worsened, and it had become harder to stifle them. She dropped the handkerchief, took a swig of water, and went onstage as England, Hungary and Prussia left stage.

The sylph once again shows herself to James. Gurn sees this and tries to tell Effie, but fails.

Seychelles hid every ounce of illness she possibly could and did bourrés onstage. She danced full out once again, with no concern about anything in the world except how she looked while dancing.

Canada chasséd after her, not because it was choreographed, merely so he could catch her if she were to fall.

Prussia also went onstage, but soon left. He noticed the incorrect moves, was confused, and just walked off.

During the wedding, the sylph appears again. James chases after the sylph, leaving Effie brokenhearted.

This scene wasn't hard. Canada simply chased Seychelles offstage , and Hungary finished off the act. Prussia took her hand and guided her off the other side of stage, finishing the act.

While the backstage helpers closed the curtains and set up for the second act, Seychelles lay backstage on Canada's lap. He held a water bottle to her lips, which she gratefully drank from. Canada placed a hand on her forehead. Her fever was getting worse. Neither of them knew how much longer she was going to last.

As the curtains opened again, creating quite a bit of noise for around fifteen seconds, Seychelles let out a coughing fit, knowing that no one could hear it over the sound of the heavy curtains. In the last few seconds, she sneezed as well. "Hitschii!"

Canada became more and more worried.

In a misty forest, Madge plans her revenge. She creates a veil from her cauldron.

This was England's solo. Seychelles had another minute before she had to be onstage. But that minute was far too short.

James enters with the sylph who shows him her world. She still avoids his embrace, though she is kind and brings him food and water. The other sylphs dance with her for James.

Canada and Seychelles entered stage together for Seychelles' group dance with Ukraine and Belarus, who were also dressed in white. The three danced as Canada stood at the side of stage, praying that Seychelles wouldn't collapse.

She didn't.

Thank god.

Effie and James' companions leave to find James. Gurn finds James' hat, but says nothing. Instead, he proposes to Effie. Soon everyone prepares for Effie and Gurn's wedding.

Seychelles collapsed to her knees the second she was offstage. Drinking water and trying to relax, she watched Prussia and Hungary dance together with England in the background.

At the end of the dance, Prussia and Hungary kissed. The second he got offstage, Prussia muttered "I need some mouthwash," which made Seychelles laugh. Her laughing soon turned to coughing right before she needed to go onstage.

James searches for the sylph, who has disappeared into the woods. Madge convinces him that he can catch the sylph with the veil she created, which James accepts. When he finds the sylph, he tries to embrace her in the cloak. His embrace is deathly and she collapses, leaving James heartbroken.

Canada searches for Seychelles, who is really just backstage. England hands Canada a cloak and chainés away, twirling his cloak. When Seychelles jetés onstage, Canada puts the cloak around her shoulders. She felt extremely warm. The cloak surely didn't help any. As soon as her second chassé coupé en tournant was complete, Seychelles collapsed backwards into Canada's arms, unconscious.

Canada caught her and carried her offstage. She didn't move. But thankfully Canada could still hear her breath.

He also heard something else.

"Kiss me, Prussia!"

"Nein! Nicht in ein billion years!"

"I meant that mockingly, you idiot!"

"Scheiße! Put the flying pan dow-"

Canada rolled his eyes and placed a kiss on his sister's hot forehead as he heard a clang of metal and a Prussian scream.

[Flufferdust]

Very cute and welcome to the forum!

[Kaede]

Emi? Oh my god! I love your writing! Especially the one with toddler Canada and sick England. Do you want to exchange stories?

[Flufferdust]

Thank you so much! You mean like a trade, or?

[Kaede]

Yes, a trade! I'll write pretty anyone other than Spain and Scotland. Canada and Prussia are my favourite characters, so if you could write something with that, that would be awesome. Do you need anything else for the prompt? Some people just want characters, others (like me) like to have an idea for the story, and I don't really know which you prefer.

[JQLovesSneezes]

This was so cute!!! Aw, Canada is just too adorable!! Keep up the great work, I can't wait to read more!

[Kaede]

So unless I get a request soon, the next oneshot story thing will be Prussia getting stuck inside a computer and catching a computer virus while invading virtual regions. How does that sound?

[JQLovesSneezes]

@Kaede That is such a great idea! You should totally do it!

[Kushami Suki Da!]

This story was so cuuuuuute~! Loved the senario! Your writing style is wonderful!

So, I here you like Prussia and Canada the best? I guess that makes two of us! I don't really have a specific request... But maybe you would do something prucan? (I also like the head cannon that Prussia has the fetish). I'm very flexible so whenever you have time and if you wanna...?

[Kaede]

Ooh that sounds awesome! I'm already working on the Virtual Regions oneshot, so maybe I'll throw Canada in for you! And I'll make Prussia find his own sneezing hot!

I should also make Canada more invisible in this one, I messed that up in the La Sylphide story...

If you have any other prompts I will be very happy to write them, so throw all your ideas at me!

[Kaede]

Yay I made another one! This one is shorter since it was harder to write. Maybe next time I'll do better. And maybe I won't take so fucking long to write a new one!

I am not joking, West.

Since when was Prussia not joking? Germany closed his phone and sighed, ignoring the twelfth text his brother had sent him. Prussia was NOT stuck in a computer, but mein Gott! he would not stop insisting that he was.

It rang again. It seemed Germany would not get five damned minutes to relax before the training session with Italy. Gott knows he needed a break from the idiotic trainee.

West. Listen to me, damn it. Open this link, download me, and print me off. Then I'll be out of here and I won't bug you anymore.

Germany sighed. "You're just trying to make me download a virus..." he muttered out loud.

That's the thing, West! I caught one!

Germany did a double take. He hadn't sent anything. Yet Prussia had responded. Curiously, Germany opened the link. Inside was a GIF image of an 8-bit Prussia who seemed to be trying to escape the screen. The GIF didn't go in a loop, rather, it seemed to actually react to Germany opening it.

"Not bad, bruder. I figure you'd be able to make something like this after spending hours on your computer every day."

This isn't a fucking joke! I am stuck in the computer!

Nice try. Germany turned his phone off and started his training with Italy, so annoyed with Prussia that Italy was scared that Germany might honestly kill him today. Would Germany make him do a hundred push-ups? Fifty laps? Italy could barely manage ten of each. Germany could see Italy's fear in his eyes, which were open for once.

Immediately Germany forgot all about Prussia and could only think of the terrified expression on Italy's face.

"...five laps today, Italien."

Meanwhile, Prussia was inside his computer. Literally. Ladonia had put him inside the internet without first telling him how to get out. Prussia tried several things, but really he was just guessing now. He didn't know if downloading him and printing him off would work. He pounded on the screen. He emailed and texted Germany, Spain, and France, but they either didn't believe him or didn't respond.

He started going through files. He wanted to know if this had ever happened before, and how it had been resolved. What if it hadn't? He didn't want to think of that possibility.

Not to mention that he'd caught a computer virus. That wasn't a joke either. And it didn't help him at all. Gott damn it. He had wanted to help a Nigerian prince.

That damned Nigerian prince had given him a sore throat and a fever. He was also coughing and sneezing almost constantly- "Hwaah- kSHUU!" Of course, it was still awesome, just like everything else about him. And loud. And obnoxious.

Virtual tissues would also be awesome... maybe he could Google some.

Nope. 2D tissues don't work. Verdammt.

Prussia suddenly had an idea. There was one person he hadn't tried yet. The one person he knew he could always rely on. The one who made the best maple syrup in the whole ficken world. He hadn't yet texted Birdie. He had... forgotten him. Scheiße.

Hey Birdie! he called out. If you're there, the awesome me needs your help!

Within seconds Canada replied. He must not have been busy- but then again, who would be busy if their own government ignored them? Canada had no paperwork to do, and he had a lot of free time. The awesome Prussia needs help? Really?

Ich bin stuck inside the internet. Help.

Is that possible?

Ich think so. Ladonia did it.

How can I help?

That was exactly what Prussia had been hoping for. But he didn't want to mess it up. Talk to Ladonia about how to get me out, 'kay Birdie?

All right. I'll get you out as soon as I can.

Prussia was going to say something, thank him, something, but for a second he couldn't say a word. Haah-kXXUU!

Bless you. Are you okay in there?

Prussia flinched. The damned computer had sent it to Canada? That made everything a billion times more embarrassing. He no longer even wanted to say anything. He didn't need to say anything, right? But why was he so embarrassed about something that he himself deemed utterly awesome; something that reflected his entire personality in one second with a single sound? Why was he so against Canada hearing it? He trusted Canada, right?

Stupid unawesome computer, making him debate these things...

Prussia? You there?

Ich bin perfekt.

I'm going to find Ladonia right now.

And as soon as he sent that, Canada went offline. Prussia had nothing to do anymore, so soon he fell asleep, curled up in the second O in the Google logo as if it were a hammock.

He woke up abruptly when he fell out of the computer screen onto the floor of Ladonia's house. It felt so good to be in three dimensions again. Being two-dimensional felt weird, crushing, painful, but just bearable enough that you can stay there. Maybe you'd get used to it if you were there for a long time, but Prussia certainly wasn't.

Canada helped Prussia up. "What were you doing in there anyways?"

"Invading virtual regions," Prussia replied, coughing and glaring at Ladonia. "C'mon Birdie, what did you think I was doing? Now, I don't feel very awesome, so let's fix that, shall we?"

[Kushami Suki Da!]

Aaahh, Kawaii~~~

[Slash2347]

so cute

[Kaede]

Here I wrote this as a kind of apology for how bad the last one was and how long it took so I made this one better and maybe you won't hate it! Only I have finals this week so I won't be putting up any more for at least a week.

I call this one What Happens When People Teach A Canadian About Historical Tea Parties.

Because my American friends were teaching me about it and they thought it was hilarious that I asked how they could have a tea party when all the tea was in the harbour. Seriously, how could they have a tea party with that?

Apparently Americans party because the tea is in the harbour and that's why they call it that.

Okay go, story time

"Pardon?" England questioned, staring straight into America's eyes. "What did you just say?"

"I don't regret the Revolution." America crossed his arms. "Without it, I would still be your property; I'd belong to you. And honestly. You shouldn't force your own brother to pay you ridiculous amounts of taxes without giving him a choice."

"You weren't my property. You were my colony. Therefore, what you're telling me is that taxes are enough to turn your back on, as you said, your own brother? They're enough to make you scar me both mentally and physically? They're enough to make you dump my tea in the Boston harbour? Bloody taxes are the reason behind it?"

When America nodded, England wanted to choke his former colony with his bare hands. But no. The Briton had better revenge for this outrageous insult. He stormed away from the American idiot.

As soon as he was at home, he locked himself in his room with a cup of English breakfast tea and several large, old, tea-stained books in which several pages tore at the corners. He started flipping through the pages, and the dust on the thick paper floated into the air, causing England to sneeze. "Haa- shhxxn!" He quickly grabbed his handkerchief and stifled, as he always did. He was a British gentleman, after all, and it was the proper thing to do.

As he lowered his handkerchief, he came up with an idea of exactly what curse he would put upon the American. He started turning pages twice as quickly.

The next day, there was a World Conference. England had already memorized the curse. As soon as Germany called for an intermission, most of the countries stood up and took a break. England used the bickering to his advantage- now no one could hear him say the curse. He turned to America, who was surprisingly still sitting down calmly, and started chanting.

The second England was done, America broke into a coughing fit.

Perfect. That's what the wanker deserves for saying such horrid things to him.

There were several more minutes left in the intermission, and America lazily lay his head on the table. His face looked flushed, and he looked exhausted. The curse had worked almost surprisingly well.

No one seemed even remotely concerned about America, who was now clearly ill. It was strange. Normally by now at least two countries would have asked him whether he was all right, and he would have been laughing and coughing and saying how heroic he was.

But no. He was just lying there. And no one even seemed to notice. Strange. Perhaps the spell had been overdone, since America would have been announcing that he was a hero even if he had pneumonia. England hoped it wouldn't kill his former colo-

Wait. Of course he wanted the illness to kill the ungrateful little brat. Wasn't that the idea in the first place?

No, it wasn't. The idea was merely to teach him a lesson, that's all. You don't mess with England, and you don't talk about the Revolution.

But America had done exactly that.

England sighed. This would get nowhere. Perhaps he should just be happy that the curse had worked, and if something further happened, then he would deal with it then. He would forget about it for now. Yes, that would be intelligent.

The meeting resumed, and China went up to the front. He drew on the blackboard for a little while, explaining all his plans, which ended with a brief "China take all. You can go home now."

No one liked that plan, of course. Russia was shaking his head, France sighed and tried to suggest a better plan that would involve England's demise, England tried to watch it without laughing, and America was very nearly asleep on the desk. America sneezed quietly, which went unnoticed again in the chaotic room. "Ekshh! Hatschh!"

When the noise died down, America came into the room.

Wait, what?

England's eyes went back and forth between the two Americas; the one who just came in and the one at the desk. How did this work? How was this possible? Was this a side effect of the spell? It certainly hadn't been planned.

The new America sat beside the one who had already been present, but he didn't seem to notice the sick one.

England realized he was the only person confused about this.

Perhaps he should get a pair of glasses, he might have double vision. Or was he hallucinating? What if he had schizophrenia?

No, if he had schizophrenia he would have known it before now. He'd been alive for hundreds of years, he would have most certainly been diagnosed before this meeting, and he hadn't been. Besides, he had never noticed any signs of it before now- magical friends were normal, correct? Exactly, he was fine.

So what was going on?

After the meeting, England calmly walked up to the two Americas. "What the bloody hell is going on here?" he asked.

"Oh, Canada's not feeling well, so I'm going to take him home. 'Kay Iggy?"

Canada? Who was that? England was certain he had never met someone named Canada before.

America must have noticed the sheer confusion on England's face. "Canada. Your other colony. The one who's just north of me, the second largest country in the world. The one that gained independence by asking politely."

There was a colony that gained independence by asking for it politely? No such thing. England rolled his emerald eyes.

Though it did sound somehow vaguely familiar...

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of coughing. England put a hand on forehead, which was burning up. "All right, take him home. You should give him some medicine as well."

England left and went to his own home. But as he started looking through his spell books again, he remembered something.

Canada really was his colony. Canada did gain independence by asking politely. Canada hadn't mentioned anything about the Revolution. Canada had done nothing wrong. And yet England had cursed him.

England smacked himself. "You bloody idiot," he muttered to himself.

He would just have to curse the real America at the next meeting.

[Kaede]

So this isn't really a story... and it doesn't include any good sneeze spellings of anything...

BUT it's a song! And if you want me to write a story about it then I will gladly do so! It's about Medieval England in the 1300s when the Hundred Year War was happening between England and France and it has the Black Death in it. I decided I had to do this because the first symptom of the plague was sneezing. There's even a nursery rhyme about it, Ring Around The Roses.

You can sing this to the song Servant Of Evil, or just on its own if you want.

I'm the United Kingdom and you're a peasant of mine

We should never have met but our fates intertwined

I'm the United Kingdom; your land belongs to me

Everything in between the ocean and the sea

Once upon a time way back in the Middle Age

I sat in a church; in the Bible I turned a page

You sat next to me with a shocked expression indeed

You were utterly surprised that I knew how to read

So I taught you the letters that appeared in the book

I was a knight and I thought you were a rook

I was wrong, you told me, and you whispered in my ear

You were a serf, my lord! you should not be here!

I'm the United Kingdom and you're a peasant of mine

We should never have met but our fates intertwined

I'm the United Kingdom; your land belongs to me

Everything in between the ocean and the sea

Though we should not have met we soon fell in love

This was something that I had never even thought of

At the end of the year you told me a secret

You had gained your freedom as a runaway Brit

But the good news had soon come to an end

Though it's all well and good that I am your boyfriend

The Black Death was bringing Englishmen to their knees

What would I do if you began to sneeze?

I'm the United Kingdom and you're a peasant of mine

We should never have met but our fated intertwined

I'm the United Kingdom; your heart belongs to me

I shall do anything I can to protect thee

People of the country were sick as bloody heck

Thousands of English citizens had black lumps on their neck

No one in the country was able to work

For once I wished I had been born as a Turk

"My dear, here's a cloak, now wear it and leave

"I don't want you to catch it so you'll have to go quickly

"Don't you worry, on my own I will be well"

And as soon as you left, I started to feel like Hell

O now I am alone but at least you'll be fine

Though my health is a little bit less than sublime

Since I'm fighting with France, my economy will decline

Though I'm sneezing a lot I hope you'll remain mine

Once upon a time way back in the Middle Age

Thousands of people would die every day

I knew that there was not a lot of time left

I was dying, I knew; I had caught the Black Death

Finally I lay in bed alone and in pain

(England, sir, I could not find a place to stay)

But at least you were well since you were far away

(I knew you wanted me to escape the plague)

Do not scream, do not cry, I hope you don't see me dead

(I was scared, I have run, from every place I have fled)

For now I can hardly move a few inches in my bed

(I hope you're all right, sir, it needs to be said)

I'm the United Kingdom and you're a peasant of mine

We should never have met but our fates intertwined

As I lay hear, sneezing, I ask thee to remember

That even after death

I shall love thee

Forever

[JQLovesSneezes]

HOLY COW THIS IS INCREDIBLE! What made you want to write a song about the Black Death, because it was genius!

[Kaede]

I think the 32 pages of Social Studies notes that I wrote last weekend probably had something to do with it. Thanks for the compliment! If you'd like, I'll write more song parodies in the future, or I could write a story based on the song. Or something completely different! Requests are always nice.

[JQLovesSneezes]

You should definitely write more songs! This one was epic! And could you write a story based on the song? I bet it would be super intense!

[Kaede]

I shall! Tomorrow you shall receive a story version of the song. And I also have a Daughter of Evil parody about the Renaissance that I wrote for school, only it's not Hetalia, it's just history, and it has no illness or anything in it so I don't know if it would fit here. I'll do the story for sure though, and future songs will be planned.

[Kaede]

I did it! I am so very proud of myself. The next one will hopefully be an Italy sickfic for my friend who I only just found out likes these things.

By the way, Kawaii Kushami? If you're reading this, which I kind of doubt, but it would be really cool if you are, she loves your artwork.

Here you go!

England removed his armour and put a cloak on top of his tunic. The metal crashed to the ground; a weight lifted off his shoulders. His shoulders and arms hurt from wielding his sword and from the heavy mail he had to wear. His entire body ached from doing so while riding his horse (England preferred to call his horse a stallion, for it had helped him win many battles). And possibly the worst pain of all came from his ribs, where one of France's knights had hit him. As much as he despised the weight of the armour, it certainly helped him with resisting the full impact of the swords France used against him. Instead of slicing through his torso, he was merely bruised. It might have been a fairly bad bruise, and certainly he did not like it. But his ribs were not even fractured, and he had that to be thankful for.

He was most definitely not thankful for the French army, however. France could bloody die, and England would gladly dance upon his grave. If France was even buried in one. Perhaps his corpse would be thrown into a pile of other dead bodies and burnt. The mere thought made England smile. He walked to the church in such a good mood that it made passersby very curious as to what was going on.

Once at the church, he sat in a pew and opened the Bible. He read for a good hour before he noticed you sitting beside him. You peered over his shoulder at the book in sheer fascination. But it was clear to him that you had no idea what was written in the book, for you asked "Can you read this, sir?"

England nodded. "Of course." He very nearly said "Of course I bloody can, I've been alive for centuries so I might as well learn," but he decided against it. It wasn't as if you absolutely needed to know that England was in fact not a human but a country.

You seemed very curious as to what was written in the Bible, so you asked England to teach you how to read. He took you to his home and taught you each of the letters. Within a few days, you knew them all by heart and could read. England was very proud of himself for being such a wonderful teacher and gentleman.

But he was also scared of you. You did not pose a threat on a normal day, thanks to England's sword, shield, and mail, but the Black Death was spreading throughout Europe. What if you had the plague? He did not want to come in contact with anyone who was sick, for if he, the representation of England, caught the plague, the rest of his population would soon follow. His country would be doomed, as each of its citizens fell ill and died.

Though he admired you and how fast you learned to read, he knew he couldn't be near you for much longer. He wanted to desperately to be with you, so he made the best of the time that he could. He found you very beautiful.

England let you stay a week at his place. As you warmed up to him, he became more friendly and less strict. He was talented with forging metal and with fighting, and you respected him both as a person and as a knight. He would tell you great tales of how he once fought dragons and rescued maidens. He told you these stories were false, but you enjoyed them nonetheless. But he never told you the maiden in each story was really meant to be you.

About a week after your arrival, England sat with you at a table. His butler brought tea and crumpets for both of you, and you casually talked for a while. England looked tired from the fighting he had done that day, but he smiled every time he heard your voice.

You decided this would be a good time to make your confession. There was no one else around, and England seemed content.

"S-sir...?" you said, still a little scared. "I have something important I need to say to you." With England's full attention, you spoke. "Sir, I am a serf. I ran away to this town in the hopes that I could gain my freedom."

England's stomach sank. A serf? He had taught a serf how to read, and let a serf stay in his home?! He was frozen in shock for a few seconds. "From where did you run?" he asked.

You seemed to shrink back into a corner in terror. "F-france, sir."

"Out."

England pointed towards the door of his home. "Now. Out. Go back to your farm in France. I don't want you here." But as he saw the pitiable look in your eyes; one of disappointment and betrayal, England took his cloak off and put it around your shoulders. "Please... make sure you keep away from those with the plague. I don't want you to catch it." He averted his eyes. "Now leave. Go back to France. And go quickly so that you do not get sick."

You were not sure whether England was genuinely concerned about you or whether he hated you. Scared you would anger him more, you left. Did the English really hate the French that much?

England sunk into his chair. Sure, you may have been French, but that did not change the fact that you were a beautiful, talented, and intelligent young woman with enough wit to sneak into England to gain freedom. Still, he needed to make sure that he did not catch the plague.

He did not want to admit that he was equally concerned that you would catch it.

England shivered. For whatever reason, his home did not seem as warm without you there. Was it the fact that he had given you his cloak? Had the fire gone out? He called his butler. "Mr. Michaelis? Would you bring me a blanket and more tea?"

Soon, a tall, thin man with dark hair brought exactly what England had asked. He stood where you had sat just minutes before.

"There is no need to be lonely, Master. I understand why you needed to be rid of her, and I respect it." Mr. Michaelis bowed. "Perhaps a game of chess would take your mind off of it, Master?"

England nodded. "Certainly." He sipped the tea, but never felt the warmth he felt with you.

Meanwhile, you walked through the town. You knew you could not leave, for if you did, you would be giving up every chance you had at freedom. You could not give up. You could not go back to your farm and work your ass off with hardly any pay. But where could you stay?

Seemingly nowhere. The streets were nearly empty, as families of plague victims stayed inside to help the infected. You walked, nearly alone, and no one stopped to even look at you, scared they would catch the plague from you.

You wished you could go back to England's home. But you knew he wouldn't allow it.

He was currently losing to his demon butler at chess, curled up in a blanket and wishing you were in the same blanket, cuddling him. He was shivering and trying to warm up with a cup of hot tea, but it did not compare to the warmth he felt with you. But you could not be there. For you might have the plague.

England's stomach sank.

No, wait. It flipped. England dropped his cup of tea and ran outside. He hid behind his home, knelt down and vomited. It lasted far too long and left a burning sensation in England's throat. He brushed himself off until he appeared normal, and he came back inside.

"Master, you don't look well..." Mr. Michaelis mused.

"I'm not," England replied tiredly. He covered his mouth and nose with one hand and sneezed. "Heh... tschhuu! Ksshuu!"

England didn't protest when his butler took a glove off and pressed the back of his hand to his Master's forehead. England didn't protest when Mr. Michaelis told him how feverish he was, and that that was the reason that he had been so cold before, and England didn't protest when his butler silently guided him to bed.

England felt horrible.

How could he have thrown you out, scared that he would catch the plague from you? He was the one you should have been scared of.

But you weren't scared of him. You were scared of going back home. No one would let you stay with them for the night, so you spent many nights outside in the cold. You would be thrown away from every place you tried to sleep, so you made yourself a little shelter in a forest near town. It wasn't much. But it was... um... nope, I've got nothing. There wasn't anything good about it.

You merely hoped that England was okay.

He wasn't. England was lying in his bed, shivering, coughing, sneezing, and sometimes vomiting. Mr. Michaelis was very worried about England, and would bless him every time he sneezed. Sometimes even in different languages.

"Haa... ptschoo!"

"Gesundheit."

"Tshuu! Ktchuun!"

"A tes souhaits. Salute."

England would grimace every time Mr. Michaelis blessed him in French, though he knew his butler meant well.

And within a few days, England felt large lumps on his neck. They were painful and hot to the touch, and Mr. Michaelis would try to help soothe the pain if he could.

But a few days later, those lumps grew black. They were even more painful than before, and they would ooze with blood and pus. England gasped in pain and prayed that he would recover. But he never felt even slightly better.

Mr. Michaelis tried everything. He would answer every one of England's requests.

When England asked his butler to bring him food, Mr. Michaelis bowed and turned around to go make some. Though... England could have sworn he saw Mr. Michaelis pause for a second, contract forwards, and shiver before going to make the food.

And he could have sword he heard a very soft, stifled "ktsshhn!"

You had run out of options. There was no way you could stay in the forest for another day. You were starving. Perhaps if you were very polite, England might let you return. When you came back to his home, there was no one there. You looked throughout each room, but you found no one. Eventually you left and went outside.

And next to the house, surrounded by one of the country's last flower gardens, was a silver stone.

Upon it was written Here Lies Arthur Kirkland, Formerly Known As Great Britain.

And next to it sat a very tired and sick-looking butler.

"He wanted me to tell you," the butler murmured, "that he shall love you until the end of time, though he cannot say so himself." He coughed, and his red eyes soon closed.

You looked down. "I shall love you until the end of time as well," you whispered. Then you looked up, tears in your eyes, hoping to see him as an angel.

And that's exactly what you saw.

[JQLovesSneezes]

Oh...my... This was the single most beautiful thing I have ever read! I love everything about this story so much! I love how it flowed, and I actually cried during:

"...was a silver stone.

Upon it was written Here Lies Arthur Kirkland, Formerly Known As Great Britain.

And next to it sat a very tired and sick-looking butler.

"He wanted me to tell you," the butler murmured, "that he shall love you until the end of time, though he cannot say so himself." He coughed, and his red eyes soon closed.

You looked down. "I shall love you until the end of time as well," you whispered. Then you looked up, tears in your eyes, hoping to see him as an angel.

And that's exactly what you saw."

Such a well written story and I can't wait to read what you post next, Kaede!

[Kaede]

Thank you so much! I'm glad this isn't boring because I know you've already seen the song which is full of spoilers because the story is based on it.

To make it less boring I threw in Sebastian Michaelis and a teeny bit of Britannia Angel because they're hot and I felt like it and no one said I couldn't

Next story will be up in about two or three days?

[Kawaii-Kushami]

[suddenly appears here. i have been summoned]

ayyyy im glad your friend likes my art !!

and italy sickfic?? i will look forward to this uvu

[Kaede]

*casually fangirls*

I am among the greats!

Do any of you want to do a trade because I would be very pleased with that

And I will start the Italy story right now

[Kaede]

I finished the Italy one! And I'm planning a Canada one for July 1 and an America one for July 4. And then maybe I'll make the Magic Club turn someone with cat allergies into a cat because no one said I couldn't and I've done all of these as illnesses so far and I'll do requests too, I like requests only I haven't gotten any yet and I think this is a run-on sentence by now so I'll just stop here. Enjoy.

Italy refused to get up. Again.

Germany thought for a second. What would make Italy want to get up? He didn't want to threaten him again; he had done that too many times recently. Most of the threats weren't even true. Germany hadn't killed anyone with their own mustache and grape.

"Italien. I tried to make you pasta for breakfast, but it burnt."

He sat up immediately. "Really?" Italy sniffed. "I don't smell any burning pasta. I don't smell anything." Nevertheless, it did the job, and got Italy down into the kitchen. Germany said he had cleaned it up already, and that was that. No more persuading was needed to get Italy outside and training, other than a bit of a push when Italy complained that he was tired.

"Ve, Germany?" Italy said. "Can I skip laps today?"

"Nein. Now run. Schnell," Germany commanded, pointing at the field.

"But Germa-"

Germany cut him off. "But nothing, Italien. I want ten laps. Go."

Pouting, Italy started to run. Japan caught up with him rather easily, as Italy was not the fastest runner. Japan slowed down a bit and ran at Italy's pace in order to converse with him. He noticed it was somewhat slower than normal, but thought nothing of it. It was early, after all. Italy smiled when he saw Japan, but he said nothing. Japan was not one to speak much; he much preferred to listen, and when he saw that Italy was not planning on saying a word, Japan sped up and passed Italy.

Italy's smile faded immediately. Really, it had been just a habit; when one saw Japan, one smiled, because Japan was kind. But now that Japan was not present, Italy did not need to smile. And he did not want to. Italy did not want to run laps, Italy did not want to be outside, and Italy did not want to train. Italy wanted breakfast, and he had been woken up to hear that Germany had burnt it.

Italy was hungry and tired. And Germany had cut him off before he could say that he didn't feel well.

As soon as Italy finished, he sat down, exhausted. But he was soon pulled back to his feet again. "I want twenty push-ups from each of you before you go back inside!" Germany barked. "I'm going to lift weights. Japan, can I trust you to make sure Bruder und Italien finish?"

Japan bowed. "Hai."

The second Germany left, Italy collapsed to the ground. It was cold and covered with a layer of frost, but Italy didn't mind. He was exhausted and Germany wasn't there to scold him for it.

"Itaria? Are you okay?" Japan asked, kneeling beside him.

At that very moment, Italy turned away from Japan, with his eyes squeezes tighter shut than normal, and sneezed wetly. "Hapttschhuu!"

It just happened to be aimed directly at Prussia, who was kneeling on the other side of him for the same reason Japan was doing so.

Prussia recoiled in disgust. "That was totally not awesome." But he came closer when he realized that Japan was checking for a fever, and he looked worried. Scared, even. Did anything scare Japan? Prussia wasn't sure. But it was clear that Japan knew that Italy was feverish.

"Itaria, you should come inside," Japan said.

Without a word, Italy pulled away from them and started doing push-ups. "Germany wanted me to do push-ups. We can go inside later." With his hands on the icy grass, he lowered himself down and pushed himself up several times. He heard Japan warning him against it and telling him that he'll get worse, but Italy was determined to finish. Germany had told him to do so, and Italy wanted to please him.

Even if he had burnt Italy's pasta.

Maybe Italy was scared that he'd do it again.

Italy was exhausted after just a few of them, and Japan could see it clearly. But Italy ignored everything Japan said. Prussia went twice as fast as Italy with push-ups in order to please everyone and so that Italy could get inside faster.

Seventeen. Italy wasn't sure whether he'd make it without collapsing.

Eighteen. His breath hitched.

Nineteen. He flinched and sneezed. "Heeh-ktschhoo!" His hands slipped beneath him and he fell. Japan and Prussia helped him up and carried him inside. Italy was coughing and shivering as Japan lay him in bed.

He was upset as well. "I... didn't... finish..." he muttered.

"Do you need anything?" Prussia asked. "The awesome me can get it!"

Italy shook his head miserably and lay down. Prussia covered him with a blanket and went downstairs with Japan. Both knew Germany wanted to know how it went. Prussia always complained that it should be him in charge and asking how it went rather than his little brother.

"Wait," Prussia said before they reached Germany. He pulled Japan to the kitchen. "Bruder needs a little punishment." Prussia opened the pepper shaker and handed it to Japan. "Shake it at me."

"Puroisen-san!" Japan gasped. "You want me to make you sneeze? But why? This is highly improper! And to what purpose?"

While Japan spoke, Prussia took the pepper from his hand and shook it furiously so that it hit them both. Japan's eyes widened in shock, but they closed immediately as he started sneezing softly, stifling each one. "Ktsshh! Haa-chh! Tschhn! Kchhn!" His eyes started to water and he coughed as he tried to get away from the pepper.

"HwaaAKSHUU!" Prussia doubled over with a sneeze so loud that Germany's footsteps came running up the stairs to see what was going on.

When he arrived, the pepper had settled. But Japan was blushing furiously and hiding his nose in a tissue, and Prussia hadn't even wiped his nose. Both looked sick.

"What the hell is going on?" Germany asked.

"Bruder, you bade Italy traid while sick," Prussia said, "und Japan und ich caught it. HrusSHUU!"

Suddenly Japan realized why Prussia had been shaking pepper everywhere.

"Fick," Germany cursed. "So now I have to take care of all of you?"

Prussia nodded, trying his very hardest to hide his smirk.