A/N: Voodoo! Hetalia style! This is sort of a mirror of another one of my fics. And please, don't ask me for a continuation, this is a one-shot, and meant to be one. Hope you enjoy it!

Beware the numerous pairing hints. Just a warning. (Also: I don't support Germancest, but take from this what you will.)

I also do not know if China has anything to do with voodoo dolls. I just needed him to say something in here. Also, this ended a bit differently than I had originally planned, so I hope it's okay. Enjoy!

Italy had never seen something quite like what he was holding before, though he honestly thought it was really kind of cute. He had originally found the first stuffed under a bench, all soiled from the dirt and mud. The second he found stashed behind a tomato box by a vendor's stall.

It wasn't stealing, the second one was half buried in the dirt. Surely the nice stall vendor didn't care for it. It was much too cute to be left behind, buried in the dirt! So he had taken it.

He tried to clean the two of them off, wiping them on his pants and running them underwater. After several minutes of scratching at the dirt spots, Italy finally managed to get both of them relatively clean. He grinned, noting that they looked even cuter up close and clean.

They were small, one fitting nicely on the palm of his hand. They were about pocket-sized, easy to hide and easy to hold. They were soft too, Italy noted in the back of his mind. He was so lost on his new find he hardly noticed where his feet had taken him. He looked up in surprise, then smiled, "Ludwig~!"

Italy stuffed the two into his pocket, and darted into the house silently, shutting the door closed behind him. He took a deep breath, and his stomach rumbled in response. Ludwig was cooking!

He could only hope it wasn't some nasty wurst.

He turned the corner into the kitchen and spread his arms wide, enveloping the other into a hug, "Ve! Ludwig~!"

There was silence, then a familiar laugh echoed, though the tone was much too high to be Ludwig's. Italy blinked, noticing in that second that the person he was hugging was slightly smaller, with a less bulky build. He opened his eyes, and tilted his head up to meet red eyes and a sultry smirk.

"Ve~! Gil!"

"Hey, Feli..."

Italy launched himself forward again, wrapping his arms tighter around Gilbert and nuzzling his face into his chest. He felt Prussia's silent laughter rumble through his chest, and Italy peeked over Gilbert's shoulder to see a slightly amused Ludwig standing with his arms crossed.

He let go of Gilbert, not hearing the low disappointed noise, before throwing himself into Ludwig's arms. Ludwig caught him easily, long used to his displays of affection.

"It smells yummy in here!" Feliciano muttered, cuddling into Ludwig's arms easily, "What are you making?"

Ludwig and Gilbert answered at the same time, "Wurst."

Italy pulled a face, turning his head so both nations could see his distressed look, "Aww! But I was hoping for some pasta! Not wurst..."

Gilbert chuckled, while Ludwig sighed, "Feliciano, we have pasta almost every day." Ludwig shifted uncomfortably against the counter he was leaning against, adjusting his hold on Italy, "Eating wurst for one meal won't kill you."

Italy scrunched up his nose, "How can you know that for sure?"

Neither of the nations present felt the need to answer him. Italy shifted, upsetting Ludwig's hold on him as he backed away, "Can I use your shower, Ludwig?" Italy asked, tilting his head in question. A tinge of pink dusted Ludwig's cheeks, and a small breathy laugh came from Prussia.

"What for?"

"Well..." Italy glanced down at his clothes, splotched and covered with dirt. He felt his back pocket as if it weighed a couple more pounds than it should, right where he had put what he had found earlier. He was dirty because of them.

"Nevermind." Ludwig cut in, a sigh puffing from his lips, "Go ahead. You can use the usual change of clothes."

Italy grinned. Ludwig always left him a spare shirt and pants in the bathroom, just in case of an event like this one, "Thank you, Ludwig~!" He stood on his tiptoes and leaned forward, brushing his lips across his cheek, "Kiss~!" Once he felt the familiar brush of lips on his cheek, he turned to leave the kitchen.

"Feli..."

Italy turned at the kitchen entrance to see Prussia turned to him, the same smirk plastered on his face. Italy smiled at him, "Ve~! What is it, Gil?"

"Don't I get a kiss too?"

Italy looked confused for a moment, before smiling wider and skipping forward to meet Prussia. Standing on his tiptoes, he brushed his lips across Prussia's cheek, and suddenly felt hot breath on his neck and cheek, "Is that what you call a kiss, Feli...?"

Feliciano suddenly felt the back of his shirt being tugged, and he was stumbling backwards, watching as Ludwig's fist flung through the air and landed with a loud thunk on Prussia's head.

"Ow. Relax, West..."

Ludwig's eyes met Italy's, and with a nod from him, Italy turned with a low 've' and walked off to the bathroom. Once he walked through the bathroom door, he immediately disrobed, throwing his dirty and itchy clothes to the floor.

He reached the shower knobs to adjust the water temperature before turning back to his dirtied clothes. He reached for his pants and dug in the back pocket, pulling out what he had found earlier. Gingerly, he placed both on the back of the sink, smiling at them before returning to adjust the water temperature.

Once he was in the shower, Italy stared hard at two objects sitting at the sink. They were undeniably cute, but he really had to wonder.

What were two small little dolls of Ludwig and Gilbert doing lying around the streets in the mud?

"Bloody hell..."

He was sure he had left them right here. He had put them in a basket and put them down right there and now they were gone. Dolls like that couldn't just get up and walk away! It was a ridiculous notion, and one he wasn't going to entertain.

He certainly hadn't made them to get up and walk away. It wasn't their purpose.

England cursed under his breath again, standing outside his house and staring at the empty basket. He had already searched everywhere they could have possibly been. He'd searched all over his house, his backyard and even in the surrounding area.

He should have never turned away from them.

"Arthur!" A loud voice and clap to the shoulder had him stumbling forward slightly to regain his balance.

"Bloody hell, Alfred! Do you have to do that every time?" England turned to face America, a slight scowl set in his features.

America smiled at him in response, "I came to take you out for lunch!"

Silence met Alfred's request, Arthur's face clearing of the scowl before deepening again once more. Surely Alfred would have noticed? England sighed, having to remind himself that this was indeed America he was dealing with, "...It's three o'clock in the afternoon."

"Huh?" America's face fell slack, before confusion took over, "It is?"

"Yes, you git. It's three o'clock in the afternoon."

"Well, then..." Alfred's face brightened again, undaunted, "What do you call it then? Brunch? I've come to take you out for brunch!" America's arm flung out, wrapping around England's shoulder, pulling him to his chest.

England spluttered indignantly, his face suddenly too close to the others' for any sort of comfort, "Alfred, you can't possibly..." He felt heat flare on his cheeks that later he would deny, "I can't...I have to..." His eyes landed on the emptied basket, and spluttered again when America leaned his face distractingly in closer to his.

"Are you blushing, Arthur?"

"What? Of course not!"

America laughed, tugging England closer to him, "Wait! Alfred...!" But America was ranting about something he didn't really care to listen to, his voice drowning out his own.

The empty basket called mockingly to him as he was dragged away.

Italy jumped out of the shower, grabbing a towel and drying his hair off vigorously. He turned to the shirt hanging on the door and grabbed it, throwing it over his head.

"Ve~!" He looked at himself in the mirror, smiling at how long the shirt was. It came about mid-thigh length on him, and was a sharp purple color. He glanced quickly at the pants hanging, turning from them to pick up the two dolls.

Ludwig and Gilbert.

Whoever had made these had managed to get the appearances down exactly right. There was a strange likeness to them, and Feliciano found himself oddly attached to the dolls.

He grinned wider then, pushing the two dolls together in a hug. He had never seen Ludwig and Gilbert hug, never at all. Brothers were supposed to do that sort of thing, weren't they? He and Romano even took baths together!

And yet he had never seen the two brothers embrace or anything of that nature at all. Maybe it was a German thing.

A loud curse from downstairs in German had Italy turning to the door. There was a loud banging noise followed by several more loud curses. Italy's feet were suddenly pounding the floor, down the stairs in alarm and stopping in the kitchen doorway.

"Ve...L-ludwig? Gil?"

Ludwig had his arms wrapped firmly around Gilbert, and Gilbert was hugging Ludwig back. Ludwig's face was inflamed in a bright red, and Gilbert was muttering angrily in German.

"What the fuck? West, let go!"

They wobbled back and forth pathetically, and it rather looked like they were dancing to Italy.

Ludwig muttered something intelligible in response, and they continued their wobbling dance, cursing back and forth in German. Ludwig's eyes landed on Feliciano standing in the doorway and his face reddened further, spluttering out, "F-feliciano!"

Italy's hands fell to his sides, "Ve?" The two brothers fell apart, both propelling backwards and falling down.

"Ve~!" Italy chirped again, looking back and forth between the two brothers, "You guys should do that more often! I don't understand why you don't. Romano and I hug all the time and we sleep together and take baths together, and do lots of stuff together!"

Ludwig and Gilbert seemed incapable of answering, both staring at the space between them in confusion. Gilbert was the first to react, standing up and rolling his shoulders before gesturing to the table, "The wurst is done."

Italy's face wrinkled in distaste.

The moon now hung high in the sky, and Italy sat on Ludwig's doorstep admiring it. It shone brightly, illuminating the streets and walkways with a light glow.

"Ve~! So pretty..."

Chirp, chirp.

Italy turned, eyes landing Gilbird as he flew towards him, "Gilbird!" He called happily, cupping the small bird in his hands. Gilbird chirped happily at him, ruffling his feathers.

"Isn't the night sky so pretty, Gilbird?"

The bird chirped once in response, turning its head to the side. Italy laughed, "I think so too. I think Gil and Ludwig could like it more too if they spent more time appreciating it." Gilbird chirped again, and flew out of his hands.

"Ve~! Gilbird! Where are you going?"

Gilbird flew away and around the back of the house, Italy following behind and calling after him. Gilbird flew in-between the spaces between the backyard fence, and Italy frowned, "No, Gilbird! Come back!" He watched the yellow bird fly further away, and Italy, after a quick glance around climbed up and over the fence.

He followed Gilbird down an adjacent alleyway, and saw him lower himself down by a pile of dirt.

"Gilbird!" Italy gasped out once he reached the small bird. Reaching down, he attempted to scoop the little bird up, but Gilbird flew out of his reach and pecked impatiently at the ground. Italy leaned down to pick Gilbird up again, receiving the same result.

"Gilbird!"

Gilbird chirped at him noisily, then pecked at the ground again. Italy sighed, looking down at the ground where Gilbird was pecking and frowned, "What is that, Gilbird?" He poked at the pile of dirt, and Gilbird chirped loudly.

Italy poked it again, and something rolled, dislodging another mound of dirt. Italy blinked, staring down at the now revealed doll.

"It looks like Alfred!" Italy muttered, picking up the American doll and wiping it off on his pant leg, "What is Alfred doing here?" Gilbrid chirped, drawing Italy's attention away and onto the separate mound of dirt he had dislodged from before.

Italy picked it up, and wiped the other doll off on his pant leg too. Once cleaned, he looked down at it in surprise, "Arthur!"

Italy's eyes shifted to Gilbird, who chirped and then happily flew to his shoulder.

"Ve~! Ludwig, Ludwig!" Germany sighed, hearing Italy's cheerful voice chirp loudly into his ear, "Isn't it a beautiful day?" Italy hummed, pressing his face into Germany's shoulder. The sun shone down persistently on them, and Italy left Germany's side to run ahead and spin in circles.

"Ja, Feliciano."

Italy laughed, spreading his arms wide as he spun. As the sun warmed his face, Italy stopped spinning to run back and cling to Germany's arm. "Ve~! Ludwig, where are we going again?"

"To the store. There are some things I need to pick up." Germany felt Italy bury his face into his arm again, then heard him speak up, "Then can we go play some soccer? Please, Ludwig? It's such a pretty day! It'd be a shame to waste it inside."

"I have to pick up these things then go over some paperwork."

"But, Ludwig! Your paperwork can be done another time, right? Per favour, Ludwig?" Italy tugged on Germany's sleeve, face turning upwards to meet blue eyes, "We'll see, Feliciano." Italy pouted, but remained silent.

The city was busy with people and noise, and Italy smiled, calling out to several people and greeting them. He started to hum under his breath, clinging tightly to Germany's arm, eyes scanning over the buildings and people they were passing. There was the loud sound of laughter and Italy turned, attention immediately grabbed by a busy restaurant.

"Ve~! Ludwig, Ludwig, can we stop and eat something?"

Germany sighed, his own attention diverting from his objective to the busy restaurant. "Feliciano, we have to pick up these things and then head back home." His arm was tugged on, and he turned to see Italy's pouting face, "Please, Ludwig?"

"…Fine. I'll go to the store and then meet you there."

"Grazie, Ludwig~!" A swift kiss was placed on Germany's cheek, and then he was left alone as Italy darted across the street. Italy was quickly seated once inside, and he reached into his back pocket, pulling out the most recent dolls he had found.

What were Arthur and Alfred doing buried in an alleyway? They were just as cute as the dolls he'd already found of Ludwig and Gilbert, but why were they being made? If there were dolls of Arthur, Alfred, Gilbert and Ludwig, did that mean there were dolls of the other nations as well? Was there a doll somewhere of him too?

There was a clicking of heels on the floor and he looked up to find a waitress stopping by his side with a notepad in her hand. She smiled softly at him, asking, "Is there anything I can get you?"

"Ve~!" Italy smiled, "I'll have some of your meat lasagne, per favour!" He watched her as she quickly marked it down, and then asked, "Can I get you anything else?" Italy's eyes darted to the empty booth across from him and back to the waitress, "I'll have some spaghetti too, please. For Ludwig!"

The waitress marked that down as well, nodding politely with a smile, "It'll be with you shortly." The clicking of heels on the ground marked her departure.

Italy's gaze was immediately drawn back down to the other two dolls in his hands.

"Can you please for the last time, talk more slowly? I can't understand you at all!" Italy's ears perked at the familiarity of the voice, eyes searching the area. The voice came again: "Honestly, Alfred, you're disgusting." Italy's eyes landed on England and America across the room, Italy's eyes locking on the absurd amount of hamburgers on America's plate. Italy had to keep himself from cringing.

"Arfur," Italy watched America start, chewing ferociously. England stood up then, hands slamming down onto the table, "Swallow before you talk! Honestly, you're such a child…"

America swallowed (Italy tried to ignore the fact he could hear it from across the room) as requested, and wiped his mouth with a napkin and said, "You complain waytoo much, Arthur." Italy watched as England visibly bristled, hands clenching at his sides, "You know what, fine." England grabbed his coat from the back of his chair and slung it over his arm, "If I complain so much, I'll just take my leave. It was ridiculous of me to even agree to this lunch out with you, even after yesterday…"

Italy, despite being grossed out by America's eating habits, he really thought England and America could get along well. Despite their constant arguing, really, if they could only get over it maybe they could be better friends!

"Wait, Arthur!" America's voice boomed over the small restaurant, followed by the screeching of a chair on the floor, also followed promptly by the loud smashing of a plate on the ground. America cursed loudly, muttering something (but still loud enough for Italy to hear it) about precious hamburgers all over the floor.

America and England being better friends would make things so much better at world meetings! Maybe there would even be less fights. That had to count for something in this day and age. Italy squeezed America's doll in his hand and brought it closer to England's doll in his other. If only they understood each other better? Maybe that's all that would be needed?

Maybe if they held hands that would make things better? It always made him feel better when he got to hold Germany's hand! It always made him feel safe. Silently, he placed the American doll's hand on England's doll. Italy smiled, things were always better when people got along!

There was another loud curse, and Italy looked up to see America launching himself across the space between himself and England, grabbing onto his hand, and pulling England towards himself. Italy watched England's surprised face turn a ripe shade of red as he was quickly pulled off balance and fell into America's chest.

This, in turn, caused America to step backwards to compensate, stepping right into the pile of burgers he had knocked over earlier. America's eyes narrowed, then blinked, looking around and then down to find England pressed up to his chest. He placed his hands on England's shoulder, pushing him away from his chest, "Arthur…"

"W-what?" England looked up and then away again.

There was silence for a minute, then America spoke again, "….I stepped on my burgers."

Italy watched England's face turn red again, his fist clench and then the abrupt clicking of heels on the ground pulled his eyes away to the waitress with the other dish of pasta. She placed it down opposite of him, then smiled at him once more, "Is your friend not here yet?"

Italy quickly stuffed the dolls away in his pocket and shook his head, "He'll be here soon – ah, Ludwig! Ludwig!" He stood up waving his hand as Ludwig walked in and noticed him. Ludwig nodded once to the lady, thanking her then sitting down opposite Italy and looking down at his plate.

"Pasta, Feliciano?"

"Of course! Ve~! Pasta is good for you!" Italy smiled as Ludwig shook his head and started eating his noodles. After taking a bite of his own food, Italy glanced over to where he had seen America and England, only to find both gone, the plate of squished burgers left alone on the floor.

"You were with that potato bastard again?"

Italy smiled, "Of course, Romano! Ludwig and I went to a restaurant and had lunch!" Romano twitched, and Italy continued, "I even saw Alfred and Arthur today! They were fighting though…I wish they could just get along! Wouldn't it be nice if they got along just like us?"

"I don't care if the fucking American and the snobby Englishman get along!" Romano threw his hands up in the air, "Now, come on! Help me find some good tomatoes for dinner!"

"Ve~!" Italy followed along behind him, stopping and picking up a tomato to smell it. As soon as he had gotten home from Germany's place, Romano had dragged him out the door to go shopping for ingredients.

Deeming the tomato in his hand good enough, he dumped it into the basket slung over his arm. He found a few others and threw them in as well, following behind Romano as he weaved through the other people looking for noodles.

When Romano stopped at the next aisle, Italy passed him and stopped a little ways down looking through all the different types. Grabbing one package and setting it aside, a flash of brown caught his attention from the corner of his eye.

Glancing once over at Romano, Italy moved towards it, moving aside several other packages before revealing the brown spotted item. Reaching down, he picked it up, and on closer inspection (and some scrubbing of dirt) Italy found Spain's sewn face smiling up at him.

"Ve~! Big brother Spain!" Quickly, Italy glanced over at Romano once more, then shoved the doll into his pocket and turned away, only to notice another flash of brown catch his attention. He dug once more into the pile of noodles, laughing a loud once he'd found it. A questioning stare from Romano had him smiling innocently and stuffing the doll in his pocket hastily.

Running forward, Italy linked arms with Romano and tugged him towards the clerk, "C'mon, Romano! Let's go make some yummy pasta!"

The doll in his pocket scowled just like the scowl he received from Romano.

They had just returned home, and already Romano was darting around the kitchen, a frenzied scowl on his face. He was darting here and there, chopping up tomatoes and cooking the meat and boiling the water.

"Ve~! Romano?"

Romano hardly seemed to notice him at all – pots were clanging loudly and the knife flashed at him from across the kitchen.

"…Romano?"

"What?" Romano snapped back, sending a glare to match the flash of the knife. Italy smiled, "Nothing. It just seems like you're really excited to have big brother Spain over for dinner, is all."

Romano jerked, and the knife in his grip clattered to the ground. "Damn it!" He bent down and picked it up, tossing it in the sink and grabbing another, "As if I'm excited to have that bastard over for dinner! All he does is freeload off us!"

Italy smiled, and jumped up when three solid knocks rang throughout the house, "Ve~! Big brother Spain is here!"

Romano cursed, "Idiota! He's here already?"

Italy re-entered the kitchen a moment later followed closely behind by Spain. "Hola, Romano!" Spain smiled, and Romano turned around with a frown on his face, "You're too early! Come over to people's houses when they tell you to! Don't just show up whenever you feel like it!"

Spain rubbed the back of his head sheepishly, "Sorry, Romano, I just got really hungry!" As if to prove his point, his stomach rumbled loudly in that moment. Romano rolled his eyes and jabbed the knife towards the chairs, "Then sit down already! Dinner will be ready soon."

Sitting down at the table, Spain turned to Italy, "Come sit with me Feli!"

Italy smiled, and took a step forward, but felt the heavy weight of the dolls in his pocket. "Ve~! I'll be right back actually! I just need to check something!" Turning, he ran down the hall, ignoring Romano's call of his name.

Italy turned into the bathroom, pulled out the dolls from his pocket and shut the door. He placed the scowling doll of Romano on the side of the sink, and turned on the cold water. Placing the doll under it, Italy slowly scrubbed away at the dirt spots on the doll, and then placed it back on the side to wash the Spanish doll.

Once he had cleaned both of them, he stepped back to look at the two of them. So now he officially had six dolls: Prussia, Germany, America, England, Romano and Spain. He wasn't sure what that meant, or why he had found so many, or who was even making them, but they had to come from somewhere.

Maybe there was a reason someone was making them? He really couldn't think of anyone that would though. There would be no one that could use them for any real reason; after all, they were only dolls! What use were dolls besides to look cute and to play with?

"Oi, Feliciano! Dinner's ready!"

Italy jumped, grabbing the two dolls and opening the bathroom door. Looking down at the scowling Romano and the smiling Spain in his hands, Italy smiled. Romano was so silly when it came down to Spain. He was always so flustered whenever he was around!

Smiling, he pushed the two dolls together, and at the same time heard a loud crash followed by several loud and very Romano sounding swear words.

"What the fuck?"

Italy blinked, shoving the two dolls in his back pocket, and walking down to the kitchen. Looking around the corner, his eyes landed on Spain and Romano who were in a similar situation as America and England were.

Romano's eyes were wide and his face was red, and Spain just blinked before smiling happily and pulling Romano closer, nuzzling the top of his head.

"Stupid Antonio! Let me go!"

"But you were the one who hugged me, Romano~!"

"Ve~!" Italy cut in, "You look all embarrassed, Romano!" At that point, Romano pushed off of Spain's chest and distanced himself, crossing over to the pot on the stove and stacking food on nearby plates.

"Shut up and eat already, damnit."

The room was filled with raucous noise as usual, several angry voices yelling across and above one another. Italy sat at the far end of one of the tables, eyes roaming over the other nations present, each off arguing or ignoring others as they choose.

It had been four days since Spain had come over for dinner, and each day since that one Italy had found another doll. He officially had a doll of France, China, Japan and Canada. Lifting up each one carefully, he slowly lined them all up in a line, side by side in order he found them in: Germany, Prussia, America, England, Spain, Romano, France, China, Japan and finally Canada.

He stared at them for a moment, "Ve~!" Then he picked them up again and re-arranged them: Prussia, Germany, America, England, Spain, Romano, France, China, Japan and Canada.

"Will you shut your mouth for once, you bloody frog?"

Italy's eyes were drawn up again, locking onto England who was once again in another fight with France. He watched France react, face flushing then turning angry to yell frustrated words at the other. Italy glanced back down quickly at the dolls he had lined up, picked up France and shoved him in-between America and England.

There was a low angry grunt made beside him and Italy's head turned to see Germany staring ahead, fists clenched and arms shaking in self-restraint. "Ve~!" Italy lifted his hand to place it on his shoulder, but removed it at the last second, not wanting any unnecessary anger pushed onto him. Quickly, he glanced back up at France and England who were still fighting, in the direct line of sight of Germany and picked up the doll of England.

These meetings could be so much more fun if France and England. Weren't they the ones who usually ended up starting something? Unless America decided he had a bright new idea to share with them all. England and America got along well most of the time, so why couldn't France and England do the same?

"Well, if it weren't for you bushy eyebrows, perhaps you could see things clearer…"

Italy looked up to see England visibly bristle from the comment, and opened his mouth to reply, when Italy shoved the doll of England straight into the doll of France. England looked frozen for a moment, and a strange look fell across his face, before he was tumbling forward and smacking his forehead into France's which both caused them to fall to the floor in a pile of limbs.

The room fell quiet at that, and Italy chanced a glance over at Germany to see him visibly calming down and Italy smiled. The silence was broken by America's loud, obnoxious laugh that rang disturbingly through the room.

England's head appeared as he stood up with a faint flush on his cheeks, brushing off the front of his suit. France appeared to be in a similar condition, re-straightening his tie before throwing a look across the table to America which was followed by a crass, "Oh, shut it, Alfred," from England.

Germany cleared his throat then, and stood to start talking. Italy attempted to listen to the first half – he really, really did - but the dolls in front of him kept pulling his attention away. The look on England's face as he had placed the doll of him and France together had him frowning at the dolls in front of him. He had looked so surprised, and then he had stumbled right into France as if he had been pushed.

Slowly, he reached his arms around the whole group of dolls – which wasn't really so big – and pulled them all towards himself and rested his head on top of them.

There was an eerie silence all of a sudden, and Italy raised his head slightly in surprise, and then abruptly in shock when the table jolted violently and suddenly all the nations were huddled together by the shoulders. A violent cacophony of swear words in different languages swarmed upwards to the ceiling, and everyone present was shifting and trying to pull away from each other desperately.

Italy was on his feet in an instant, wrapping his hands around Germany's arm and pulling desperately. "Feliciano! Don't pull!" Germany's voice yelled angrily, and Italy looked up with tears in his eyes, and Germany's face scrunched up as it always did when faced with Italy's tears. Germany opened his mouth, but a soft, child-like laugh suddenly echoed from the side, and all the nations went quiet. Russia sat off in the corner, unmoved from his spot and smiling cheerfully.

Italy opened his mouth, but was cut off by a loud and decidedly angry british accented voice, "Bloody hell!" Italy's eyes locked on England whose eyes had found the dolls sat in front of where he was sitting, and then those green eyes were staring at him, and his heart jumped in his chest, "Are you telling me you had them this whole time?"

Italy blinked, and Germany's voice spoke up, calm and steady as ever, "Feliciano. What are those?" Italy felt his pulse pick up even further, and his eyes went to England, "Ve~! I just found them lying around! They looked lonely and dirty, so I picked them up!"

England opened his mouth, but another child-like laugh cut him off, and England's eyes narrowed in on Russia. The quiet nation smiled, "You should not have made such things in the first place, da? You should know better than that, comrade."

"I knew it!" England floundered as best as he could, his head swinging from side to side in the only expression of discontent he could make, "How did you get your hands on them in the first place? They we're untouched in my bloody backyard…!"

"England." Germany's voice cut across the other nation's babbling, "I think you have some explaining to do."

This seemed to calm England down, he stopped struggling and sighed, "I suppose I do. You see…"He paused, "Bloody hell. I can't explain like this. Italy!" Italy met England's eyes once more, eyes wide, "Can you please stop this?" He accentuated his point by rolling his head as he had before, which earned him a small laugh from France, to which England glared, "You bloody frog – just wait till this is over."

"V-ve…how do I do that?"

England sighed, "All you is pull them apart from one another at this stage."

Nodding, Italy went over the pile of dolls and pulled them apart, and there was a loud collective sigh from the nations as they were set free from one another. Germany marched straight over to him and picked the dolls up and placed them on a table behind theirs, the roaring fire beside it crackling angrily.

Italy was about to sit down when Germany stopped him, pointed at his pocket, and Italy reached in and pulled out the doll of himself. Germany gave it a weird look before plucking it out of his hands and putting it with the rest of them.

"So," England started one Germany had sat down, "These were never meant to leave my backyard," His eyes locked in on Russia then skidded over to Italy,"…but these are merely a test format of what I was working on. They're a-"

"Voodoo dolls, aru."

There was silence, then, "They're not voodoo dolls, they're a miniature re-make of the each of us with something unique from each of us, which is used to recognize – "

"Voodoo dolls, aru."

"They're not voodoo dolls!" England stood abruptly, sending his chair clattering to the floor behind him. His hands slammed onto the table angrily, eyes narrowing and landing on China, "They're called –"

"There's no need to get angry, aru!" China stood, easily matching England's anger with his own, "I certainly didn't make the voodoo dolls, aru!"

"They're not -!"

"Mon petit Arthur," France's smooth voice cut across England's anger like a knife, quickly silencing him. He stood from this chair and walked around to Italy, who smiled up at him, and picked up the little doll of England. He poked it softly in the belly, and met England's eyes across the table, "Though you made one of yourself," He paused, "...you did not, perhaps, mean this as some kind of weapon of war, did you?"

The ensuing roar of voices that followed France's question was deafening. All the nations were on their feet, yelling at each other with only the small space of the table between them. Accusations flew right and left, and England stood red faced and silent. Italy stood looking back and forth between the nations frantically, France by his side was arguing with an irate looking America, and Germany sat silent and shaking.

The meeting room was once again in chaos.

Italy's eyes passed frantically over England, whose lips were moving silently (it was hard to tell if he was talking aloud or not) and a sudden jerk from England had Italy covering his eyes as a huge puff of purple smoke and stars appeared in the room. The appearance of the smoke had all the nations yell out in alarm, which was accompanied by a low but distinguishable, "Hoata!"

There was a flash of light and the smoke cleared, revealing Britannia Angel standing on the table with wand in hand. There was a minute of awed silence, before America's voice piped up sarcastically, "Where's your magical friends?" which was followed by abrupt laughter cut off as England sent a spell at him that fell short, bouncing off the table ineffectively.

"As I was saying," England began, "they're not voodoo dolls," here he cast a look at China who was staring at England's choice of attire with a unreadable look on his face, "they're a unique doll created from something uniquely our own, and it is only possible because we are nations." He swung his right arm up and pointed his wand at France, "And no, frog, they aren't a declaration of bloody war. They're only in the beginning stages, like I said-"

"Oh? So you were planning on making something better than these?"

England visibly twitched this time and brought his wand back, eyes locked on France's face, mouth forming the spell that spilled out from his lips, when the relatively silent childish laugh echoed again in the room. All nations present stopped and turned to see Russia standing over the fire with all the dolls in his arms.

Russia turned then and lowered his arms – there was a loud protest from England at this point, "No, Russia, wait!" - all the dolls falling into the fire and turning it a vibrant green before returning to red. Turning his head, he grinned, "Oopsie. Did I do that? How silly of me."

There was a deafening silence broken by England falling to his knees on the table. Reaching into his pocket, Russia pulled out another doll and turned to face the rest of the nations, "It's too bad. I think this one is actually cute," Slowly, he held the doll of himself up to his face, "It looks just like me, don't you think?"

"Russia…" England's voice fell flat.

"Oh, you don't think so?" He pulled the doll away from his face, and threw in into the fire, "Oh well." England slumped onto the table in response, staring forlornly into the flames in the fireplace. Russia walked past them all, pausing slightly at the door to say, "I assume this meeting is over, da?" The door swung shut behind him.

There was a flurry of movement, and England dived into a nearby closet. Clothes were thrown out of it in a rush, and then there was a loud, "Ah ha!"

Pulling himself out of the pile of clothes and items he had thrown down, he stood upright and grinned down at the doll in his hand.

"It isn't over yet, Russia…"

The doll of Russia smiled innocently.

England laughed.