The next batch:

11. Memory

.

South Italy didn't have any fond memories surrounding a certain blonde haired woman. Romano was sure she was the only woman he couldn't possibly say one polite thing about, but then after all it was her.

He had first met her when Spain had control of him. He had been hiding under Spain's bed in the hopes of escaping his caretaker's torturous affection, when he heard the hushed angry argument approaching. He cowered in the furthest corner under the bed and when the door was all but slammed open he begged silently to every God that he wouldn't be found.

"Why won't you accept?" He heard the low dangerous voice whisper and heard the faint laughter of a woman's voice.

"Why should I Spain?" A loud angry noise was heard. Romano ducked his head down as quietly as he could, he didn't want to be the one to disturb the silence, but his curiosity was getting the better of him. He saw Spain's feet near the woman's, who seemed to be leaning against the wall casually.

"Your country shall fall," he heard the soft Spanish voice drawl mockingly.

Not too long after the woman left and the following morning an angry Empire followed. Romano didn't see Spain for months and months, and when the man returned he was bloodied, broken and crushed.

Romano had done all he could to avoid the woman who had made the happy nation who looked after him like this. He had shared terrifying stories of pirates to his brother, so that when they had somehow accidently caught her through the World Wars they were so used to avoiding her, even when their countries were meant to be negotiating treaties, that they had no idea on what to do.

They somehow got her behind bars, and Feli went to call Germany and Prussia over and for once Romano was happy to have the potato bastards' help. She had escaped a few times, but nevertheless Germany always managed to catch her much to her chagrin.

But it would be Romano who was stuck guarding her every following night. He cursed, and silently cried as he strolled as slowly as he dared towards the prison. He heard the potato bastard speaking loudly to the blonde haired woman.

"What is the point in escaping anymore England?" He heard the stupid bastard question, and Romano snuck in as silently as he possibly could, so he didn't disturb any important conversations. "France has fallen and given up. America isn't helping you this time. And your land and your people are being bombed. There is no point in defying us anymore, you can join us and we won't make you lose any of your empire. So why continue to escape?"

The blonde haired woman pointedly looked away, her emerald eyes landed on Romano and the Italian felt his self freeze as those eyes saw through him. He felt like she could kill him with a look, he felt like he should run before something horrible happened, before she bewitched him, before she took out some secret weapon and killed him, or before she…

Smiled? She smiled sweetly, a sweet that took hundreds of years to perfect, a sweet that could not be faked.

"Hello Romano," she called.

The German looked up and sighed as he gave Romano a nod of acknowledgement. He turned back to the blonde in front of him.

"Think on it England. Your Kingdom is vast; do you want it to fall, like your allies?" And he left leaving Romano to add more horrifying imagery to his memories of England, a stubborn blonde woman who was willing to dig her way out of a prison cell, and would allow her colonies and family to fall with her. A horrible woman… that for once he saw clearly in front of him, with her deadly but beautiful looks as she casually leaned against the wall… in an overly exposed Italian dress that sadly suited her perfectly…

The next time he met her, was long after the war, long after her petrifying punk phase where she not only destroyed her own Prime-Minster's car a few times, but dragged Prussia into her games, making the world overly panicked about the two thinking that invading a country would be fun. Luckily she passed that phase and now for the first time in his known history he was actually turning up to a meeting that involved England on the other side of the table.

Since the war had ended he couldn't get rid of those images of her in the Italian dress, quite content to lean against the wall, until she found the perfect escape route, which one day she managed to find all thanks to her colonies, dominions and a certain ex-colony.

He entered the meeting room to find England already in a large comfy chair, her head resting against the table in front of her, her blonde hair splayed out across the table: asleep. And it was in that second that Romano realised something. His memories of her were wrong and misguided. She wasn't a demon or a monster…

He lightly shook her awake, just as their bosses entered the room. She groaned lightly, and looked around with a yawn, before she saw Romano and suddenly looked sheepish.

"Ah… I'm sorry Romano; I only got off the plane, so I'm kind of tired…" She apologised; he said it was alright and hurried over to his boss, blushing profoundly.

No she wasn't a monster… She was a seductress that had captured Spain and the potato bastard's interest before… and maybe… just maybe… his as well…

.

When he looked passed his judgemental memories he found a beautiful woman, that like some rare jewel he was too afraid to touch…

South Italy

.
12. Insanity

.

Sealand burst through England's house, smashing door after door open looking for the blonde haired female that he somehow looked so alike that he was tortured every time he looked at his reflection… he didn't want to look like such a jerk after all!

He opened a large oak door (he had always wanted to kick the door open to show how cool and Nation-like he was, but always thought better of it). Inside the blonde haired female stood, she leant to the side, her hand put thoughtfully to her chin as she stared emotionlessly down at the table in front of her.

Sealand stomped over towards her, but she didn't look up, she stayed in the same position; her eyes calmly travelling across whatever was in front of her. Sealand scraped one of the large mahogany chairs across the floor so it was beside the English Nation. Climbing onto the chair he stood as tall as he could beside her and let his eyes stare at what was on the table in front of her.

It was a map… a large map… an old map with every country of the world. The edges were ripped, torn and creased. The boarders between countries had been changed and gained more shape than the original outline of each country. Large cut marks (that Sealand imagined England had caused by throwing a knife repetitively at the map) tore across some of the countries, mainly countries like France that had the words: "ENEMY" scratched across. Some countries had their names lovingly draped over their land such as Canada, under his name Claimed, Colony and Dominion had roughly been crossed out and Commonwealth replaced it.

"England you need a new map..." The blonde didn't reply, but spared him an emotionless glance; her eyes held nothing but emptiness: a dark sorrow that felt bottomless. She turned back to the map silently.

Sealand huffed then went back to the map, determined to find his name and what she had written under his name, was it something horrible now that he wasn't hers, he doubted she would've put brother, as she had put some choice words next to Scotland and Ireland. He scanned the land around England and smiled when he came across his nearly nonexistent dot, but it didn't last long… as the words that he wanted to read were stained and blurred completely together with some tea stains, that he almost imagined Guinevere dropping then shrugging when she saw where it had landed.

"Hey!" He howled. "That's not fair!" He looked up at the startled green eyes as she looked down at him blinking in surprise. "Why didn't you rewrite my name? I'm an important Nation!"

She sent him a look before attempting to turn back to the map, but Sealand was angry and decided to do something to stop her going back to whatever task she was attempting to do. Sure she didn't see him as a proper Nation, but she usually talked to him, looked at him, she even helped when he had caught fire! She never looked at him with such crazed eyes… NEVER!

He climbed on the table and sat directly in front of her, blocking her vision and stopping her from looking at the map.

"Jerk sister!" He yelled loudly, so that the blonde in front of him had to cover her ears. "Why are you looking at some stupid old broken map?" He glared, when she continued to give him that look he had seen so many times before. "Instead of staring at some stupid map you could come and say hello to us colonies!"

"You weren't a colony Peter," she continued staring and walked a little further up the table, hands gripping either side as she leaned over the map.

"What do-"

"Only countries can be colonies…" She looked up with the darkest look he had ever seen. "And you aren't a country Peter…"

"Eng-"

"Just leave Peter."

It was a final command, and Sealand looked around hoping to find something to change her mind or to gain a little extra time for her to change her mind. Neither came, so he stood up, slowly left the room and curled in on his self on the other side of the door, the door that separated England from the rest of the world through her insane moments. He'd stay there until she left, he knew she'd leave and look for him to say sorry in her own awkward way… eventually…

Sweden had explained that the old empires sometimes went through these stages, where they feel like their mind is slowing being torn apart, where they think they're going to die… where they feel a need for power and that they contemplate trying to take over the world again. Sweden had also explained it was better for someone to be around to help them snap out of it, the curse of being almost completely immortal Sweden had told him.

Sweden had Finland, Finland had Sweden, but his other important person didn't have anyone… so Sealand swore to always be around for England… even if she said hurtful things… she just needed a moment, and he'd always bring the lonely nation back to her senses, it was his duty! He wouldn't let something as stupid as insanity to take her away!

.

He couldn't understand what insanity entitled, but he knew it was something awful, so he wouldn't let it affect her…

Sealand

.
13. Misfortune

.

She had found herself outside her old conquers house. She hadn't seen Denmark outside of social meetings (which were scarce in the first place) in a long, long time and she hadn't expected it would be her to turn up to his house. She had always expected him to try and take over her land again, as he had always seemed like an unmovable source that would stubbornly believe in only his thoughts alone.

So when Norway had paid her a visit a few months ago explaining what was going on and how Sweden and Finland had left the union between Denmark and some of the other Nordic countries and Norway was even thinking of leaving, apparently Denmark had done something rather idiotic, she hadn't expected to hear of the positive results on Sweden's side. Sure Sweden was strong, but probably no more so than Denmark.

After a long inner debate she had decided to pay the man a visit, he was definitely not the type to just give up. But when she found herself outside the man's house she hadn't the courage to just knock on his door and enter. She hadn't seen him in centuries and this was the first time she was willingly walking up to one of her past invaders houses…

She was just about to knock the door when it opened up completely, revealing the Dane, dressed in his usual long black jacket, read top underneath, and that square hat that Norway had told her he adored a little too much. His blonde hair fell into his shocked eyes and apart from the customary clothes she had been told he had taken a liking too, he looked completely sloppy and a bit out of it… definitely not his usual cheerful self.

"Guinevere…?" He questioned, highly confused: why was she of all people here?

"Ah… hi…?" She waved a little uncertain, before the blonde's eyes narrowed slightly.

"If you're here to gloat on me losing power then don't it's-"

"Wait… what?" She interrupted, hands in the air as though to calm the Dane down- it didn't work.

"Well, it's highly convenient that the second Sweden's left with Finland you appear, don't you think? You probably wanted to be the first to gloat! I mean there's no other reason you'd visit right? You're the kind of person who holds grudges about conquering land, so why else would you visit someone who controlled you? Why else would you suddenly visit-"

A well executed fist to the stomach stopped the ex-Viking from going on. He coughed and spluttered as the woman's fist managed to collide in the right spot to knock the wind out of him. Coughing he glared up at the feisty female Nation.

"Or maybe, just maybe I came over worried after what Norway said," she glared back, and waited for Denmark to get his breathe back before saying anything else.

"Worried…" He managed to wheeze out after a minute or so, and England's face was engulfed in a red flame.

"Well… Well… not worried per say… ah it was… was… Norway who came to me worried… So…" Denmark watched as the blonde tried to splutter out excuses… and smiled.

It wasn't good to stay miserable forever was it? There was always going to be some silver lining peeking through wasn't there (even if it took a few years to appear)? His just came in the form of a socially awkward blonde, who had the ability to stop him breathing and make him smile…

.

With her around misfortune wasn't going to keep him down for long…

Denmark

.
14. Smile

.

He lent forward on the table, elbows propped up; so his chin could lean on the palm of his hand, where the material of his clothing gathered in clusters. He leaned forward enough so he could relax his weight against the table and lift his legs off the floor slightly. He watched the woman in front of him.

She frowned and looked highly annoyed, but he couldn't blame her for she was doing all that paper work, and who could blame someone for not enjoying paper work? And he could happily say paper work was not created in Korea, who would want to be known for creating something so bland and boring?

"Why are you watching me?" She suddenly looked up, glaring at the Nation opposite her.

He blinked and watched her face, she had striking features: pale, but filled with life, small but so tall; scrawny but too strong. The representation for England didn't even begin to look like she had achieved all she had. But what got him wasn't her appearance, or her eyes that portrayed what she was feeling easily, but her lips.

Why was she always frowning?

Surely smiling was better…?

So why did she feel the need to frown all the time?

"You know…" He started smiling brightly. "You should smile more; I bet you'd have a cute smile!"

"There's no point in smiling all the time," she tutted, looking away. "It's pointless."

He tugged her hair to try and pull her face back. She sighed and followed the movement, glaring at him.

"It's not a pointless thing! Smiling in a wonderful creation!" He smiled to make a point. "And I know you'd have a wonderful smile, do you know why?" He paused for a moment, but not long enough for her to reply. "I know because smiling was created in Korea and anything created in Korea is guaranteed to be brilliant on everyone. So you should smile!"

She openly stared for a few moments, the nation in front of her just grinned happily, completely serious. She snorted lightly before laughing uncontrollably.

"Oh God, you're as bad as America!"

"Thank you," he cheered and smiled after she stopped laughing and she couldn't help the smile that was on her face, it was just stuck there. "See!" He called after admiring his work for a little while. "You look more than cute with such a happy face!"

Guinevere managed to keep a straight face for a few moments before bursting into fits of laughter again, why was she always surrounded by such idiots?

.

He created smiling so of course it would look wonderful on her…

South Korea

.
15. Silence

.

It was a beautifully warm day, with a gentle breeze that whispered of the winter just past. The breeze wrapped around her arms and she was glad she had decided to bring her long red coat with her, for it provided enough warmth so the cold didn't affect her, but not enough to make the light rays of sunlight to bake her. Ah, just the usual unpredictable English weather Guinevere was used to.

In her lap she had a particularly large history book. She had taken it off the shelf in her library just after lunch and decided to enjoy the spring weather by reading it outside. Going to the park she lived near she began to read the large book, holding back laughing when she came to a part of history that was so inaccurate it was only funny, containing her anger when it came to a part of history she detested and forced her tears back when she came to an awful part of her history. These history books were like hers and the other countries autobiographies and that… saddened her to say the least, they had had some awful phases…

She yawned and looked around when she heard children laughing. People were starting to roam around: children, teenagers and adults alike. A quick glance at her watch proved it to be late, almost six to be precise, the god awful rush hour. She slowly let her and the other countries' story shut tight, deciding the book didn't need a bookmark of any kind she knew what was to happen after all.

"Well it has been nice talking to you," she jumped as she heard a voice mutter beside her. She turned to see the silver-white haired teenager beside her. He wore his old and overly worn brown jacket and Guinevere could see the elbows of the jacket were changing colour from the overuse and a few patches that needed to be sown. The jacket seemed even worse with the white shirt underneath that had no marks on and a fancy ribbon around the neck.

"We should do it again someday…" And he stood up flustered and rushed off and Guinevere could only blink and watch after the man, and question what the hell Iceland was going on about…

.

Sometimes silence was all the conversation that was needed…

Iceland

.
16. Questioning

.

"England!" A child who looked about ten pushed a large door open and slammed it behind them, so their annoying older brother couldn't follow.

"England!" The child screamed loudly, practically crying their eyes out as they searched the room for their guardian. The second they had found out England had come to their house to visit they ran towards home screaming.

"… England…" They sniffled, almost crying. They slowly pushed forward… she had to be around somewhere.

They heard the door behind them gently open and turned to yell at Australia, he wasn't wanted around so he should get lost and… But Australia was wrapped around the person they were looking for.

"England…!" They cried and ran over clinging to the blonde woman's waist and continued to mutter her name over and over again.

Above Guinevere looked down at Australia who furiously shook his head no.

"I didn't do ANYTHING!" He yelled, stomping his foot and clinging to their blonde caretaker tighter.

"He did!" The younger Nation cried and pulled away slightly, eyes now filled with the unshed tears. They pulled up their trouser leg to reveal a small cut. "He pushed me out of a tree…"

"You threatened to push me off a cliff!" The Australian yelled back.

"'Cause you threatened to push me out of a tree!"

"And if I didn't get you first, you would have got me!"

"Stop the both of you," Guinevere called over them; they stopped but continued to glare at each other. "Australia go to your room I'll come and talk to you in a minute…"

The Australian stomped, and complained about England always siding against him, but did as he was told. Guinevere sighed and knelt down to the others eyes level.

"So what's really wrong New Zealand?" She questioned and continued before the youngest blond made some lie up. "I know you and Australia have had worse fights and you've never once cried over those cuts and bruises…"

When the little Nation didn't say anything, Guinevere picked New Zealand up and carried the small Nation to the kitchen where the first aid was. Setting the little Nation on the table she went to the cupboards to take bandages and ointments out.

"So…" She started.

"Australia said I wasn't a girl…" The blonde muttered and Guinevere almost coughed, but before she could say anything to that the younger Nation continued. "And I want to be a girl, 'cause you're a girl… and I want to be like you… So I am a girl right?"

And Guinevere was shocked, what the hell was she going to say to that?

.

And it was these questions that made her decide to never have any more colonies…

New Zealand

.
17. Blood

.

She somehow always stole his attention. He could be giving his precious Romano some well deserved attention or hanging out with Prussia and France and all she had to do was breathe and he'd end up staring. The beautifully pale flesh that delicately wrapped around her wrists was just translucent enough that he could see delightful blue veins underneath that hid her life. Her determined forest green eyes that never looked away before the poor soul who was caught staring did; her eternally messy blonde hair had such an unrefined beauty to it that he just had to be the one caught staring. It was her who always found a way to capture his easily distracted attention and even though she didn't realise it he couldn't help but blame her, cursing her for putting some bewitched spell on him.

So it was expected that when he found his self face to face with the sea devil, while helping France win this war, he just stared. Stared as she ripped through his crew, Spanish and French fell to the floor both in a bloody mess, both hated and as unimportant as the other. France cursed beside him but he didn't particularly care, he was frozen watching her graceful movements as with her sword and gun she brutally murdered another of his men… then another of Frances, then his until… It was just them.

She grinned a vicious grin towards them, France cursed the woman before them in his own tongue and he stared. Just stared… transfixed on the blonde's face as the tiniest drop of blood slowly fell down the left side of her face. Not hers… surely not!

She approached them. Her footsteps echoed all around as she approached with calculated ease. Her emerald eyes flashed as her crew howled, she wanted to mock the two powerful Nations, but even so there was still a war going on around them that she was determined to win…

He slowly prowled towards her when she stood frozen in debate for awhile and smiled his normal smile. It annoyed her and he knew.

"Inglaterra," he purred when close enough, he wasn't beat yet and had plenty of energy to tease her… while he could. "I'm sorry we have nothing here to entertain your fancy." He purposefully smirked back at France who looked thoroughly annoyed.

When he turned back towards her, she had her arms folded in front of her, her emerald eyes half lidded and whatever her sweet voice was about to say wasn't heard as he zoned in on the blood. It painted her pale white skin easily, as though her skin was a canvas for the sinful liquid. He smiled at the thought of it being one of his men's, Spanish blood tainting English land; he revelled in the feeling of tainting her, of marking her, of making her his and only his. He'd have killed hundreds of his men to taint her further.

But… his eyes narrowed. It could have just as easily been French blood and France had tainted her far too much already. Owned her for awhile, claimed her, and built so many historic building across her land, securing his power over her… Power he shouldn't have over her.

Dipping his head in close; as slowly as he dared he licked the blood away. Wiping away the masterpiece from the beautifully clear canvas in front of him, he let his olive eyes trail up to her emerald ones and grinned as goofily as he dared.

"You had some blood on you, but don't worry I sorted it out."

.

Only he was allowed to taint her and he'd make sure the thought didn't even cross anyone else's mind…

Spain

.
18. Rainbow

.

"England!" The brown haired Ozzie grinned, grabbing onto England's hand, and much to her chagrin he had grown taller than her, just like the rest of her old colonies, though he always enjoyed being able to tease her about it.

"Australia," she looked up at him from the corner of her eye and he grinned brightly.

"I'm glad you agreed to come to my birthday party," and God he knew how much she hated being reminded that they had all left her, but he didn't want to celebrate without her.

"I didn't really have a choice when you appeared at my house yesterday," he heard her sigh and grinned. He knew if she was completely against the idea she would have stopped him, he knew she was sneaky when she needed to be.

"Aw, don't be like that England!" He grinned and pulled her along, and then looked at the sky when it suddenly started to rain. "Aw, see all your frowning brought the rain with you!"

"Don't like it, don't invite me," she growled when the brown haired Nation only grinned at her.

"But, I'd be sad if you didn't come with your depressing weather," he whined bringing the blonde into a bone crushing hug much to her annoyance. "See…" He drawled pointing to the sky. "When my amazingly cheerful weather clashes with your sad rain, we make rainbows…"

England looked up at the sky above and true to his word a rainbow was starting to form, bold and brightly in the sky. He grinned down at her and she shook her head as he started dragging her towards his house again.

"I hope you brought me a brilliant present!" He cheered. "I need to make the others jealous that you came to my birthday with little to no resistance, when you didn't turn up to theirs!"

"This was your plan from the beginning wasn't it Ozzie?" She drawled; glaring at her old colony's back.

"You bet Pommie!" He cheered happily, grinning over his shoulder and he threw a quick wink in for good measure. "And if the rainbow was all you brought with you, a kiss will suffice as a wonderful birthday present!"

.

And together they were making rainbows…

Australia

.
19. Gray

.

He had heard of her, it was hard not too after all. She was growing in strength, growing so powerful and she was somehow winning impossible battles. He had heard of her sadistic smile; the talons she had that ripped flesh apart as though she wanted to kill everything. Her prideful golden mane that held enough ego to represent the whole world and striking green eyes that could seemingly see through even the slightest hint of change.

She had been described as a ferocious monster, a horrid creature that should be avoided. And he had somehow painted this image of her in grey, a dark and dreary grey, something more lonesome than all the dull snow that piled up around his house. He imagined that even he would feel a shiver roll up his spine when they met.

So, when he went to visit her land to make some trading alliances he found his self believing her country would be frozen solid, her people to be deformed into some kind of creepy demon like creature, and her standing above them all with a demonic glow in her eyes.

He was pleasantly surprised to find lush green grass, people laughing among each other as they went about their jobs and the sun sneakily shining around the few clouds that dotted across the too blue sky.

"You must be Russia," he heard a clearly female voice say, he turned around and looked down… quite a bit, to see a blonde haired woman.

She had long blonde hair that fanned out behind her, clear green eyes that shined as brightly as forests when the light hit them just right. She was slim, small and pale. But he saw no talons that wanted to kill or any other demonic presence at all.

He smiled the smile that others had dubbed as creepy and she smiled back with no problem. She was no demon, not at all.

And he changed his mind she wasn't grey, definitely not, she was more a luscious green, entwined with a rich gold and left out in the open for others colours to add into the midst if they needed too. She was bright and absolutely perfect… And he wanted to add his own colours into hers…

.

Sometimes mixing colours can be better than standing on your own in a plain and dull world…

Russia

.
20. Fortitude
.

He had never seemed to be physically strong, but he had had an empire. A strong and solid empire if there was something he wanted he would take it. It was how it had always been.

So when he had first met the scrawny blonde Nation he had decided he didn't want something so disgusting and foul. When he later learned from a smug Switzerland that he had just decided to insult England he hadn't believed him, England was an Empire much stronger than his own and was gaining even more power fast.

He hadn't believed anyone until he had seen her fight. She had been fighting on his side, had joined him to fight France. And while France was on the opposing side she had kept her strength, and fought valiantly beside him for a little while. That was the first time he had truly believed she was England and decided that maybe he should make her and everything she owned a part of his empire as well...

He had soon decided after his fears were realised that there was no way to win her over. She had entered his war solely to fight France as he had earlier guessed and had left him at the mercy of Prussia when she couldn't fight France anymore. And at that moment when everyone's interest in her empire was raising she had eyes solely on one person, France… and until she had completely destroyed him there was seemingly little room for anyone else in her mind. There was no way he'd be considered a threat or a well planned alliance in her mind.

It was years later when all the empires had fallen, all the land was dished back out to who it belonged too that he had decided that strength was a fleeting thing that could favour someone else in an instant. It was at that moment he heard the sounds of fighting start up. Looking on the other side of the world meeting he saw England and France starting their usual brawl just as they always had done.

He sighed with a soft smile, maybe for some nothing was fleeting…

.

Her strength had enraptured him in an everlasting tune…

Austria

.

A/N:

Ok! The next batch is here, we hope you enjoy. We've enjoyed your comments, and I loved that you guys all pointed out your favourites, so I'd love you guys if you did that again!

ALSO! Someone asked for some with the British Isles, but sadly we're sticking with only the cannon male characters to pair up with England, that also means no Portugal… though of course that doesn't mean there won't be any vague mention of them through the drabbles, as I'm sure you've seen we go a little insane with something's *sweat drop*

Also, my friend-ling is amazing, did you know she's like only watched the first series of Hetalia and is only used to those characters yet when we split all the characters up (each character and theme up to 100 has been pre-planned you see) she's mainly taken on characters she doesn't know… And America and N. Italy cause she adores those two (and they will appear in the next chapter by the way)!

And ok, we know I'm rambling so what else… um… Review, fav, alert and all that jazz. Let us know what you think of things and if you've read my other stories think I work better with my friend-ling or on my own, not that saying I work better on my own is going to stop me collabing with my friend-ling! K, Ah, hope you've enjoyed this bunch… and oh would like the drabbles to continue their randomness or would you like a more flirty one? Anyways until next time (which should be soonish)!