Yeees, I am now obsessed with Hetalia enough to write a fanfic. ._. This day was coming fast.

Anyways, I guess you could call this an "OC" fic even though I don't think a country could be an original character. XD So this is my take on Romania (hey, he was mentioned in Hungary's profile so he needed to appear eventually). I did all of this from a historical standpoint, being a history geek and all. It's just a summarized version of how Romania got involved in World War II. :3

Okay, brief (very brief) profile of this Romania:

Name: Mihail Jocescu
Country Name: Romania
Birthday: July 13th (Independence Day)
Hair: Black (choppy, shoulder-length)
Eyes: Reddish-brown
Outfit: Wore a gray uniform (Gestapo-ish) until the Communism era, when it became dark green
Random Facts: Was once friends with Hungary until they started fighting, always hated Turkey, is confused for a vampire a lot because of Dracula, used to be really strong but now just gets pushed around, good friends with Poland

I was going to name him Vlad originally, but it was too expected. XD And this fic will probably go down if a) People hate it or b) Romania appears in the actual storyline as a completely different person. XP If you're interested, I drew a picture of this Romania on me deviantArt page which I'll PM to whoever wants it (probably no one XD).

So to avoid all confusion, there's be footnotes at the bottom explaining everything. :3 Thank yoooou!

EDIT: As Seileach so graciously pointed out, Feliks/Poland is pretty OOC here. :P I'm very sorry for that and I promise I won't make the same mistake twice! -bows-

DISCLAIMER: I wish I owned Hetalia, but I don't. D:


Mihail was tired. Bruises lined his body in formation, all products of Ludwig's brutal hits. They bore deep into his ribs, causing him pain every time he moved the wrong way. Black hair, once shining like a raven's wing, was caked in blood that matched the ruddy color of his eyes. His lips were chapped and cracked and his throat felt the same. Yet he didn't feel the pain, only the fatigue.

He had tried so hard to remain neutral, to not get involved in the affairs of his neighbors. Ludwig was swooping down on Europe, taking everyone with him. Mihail had prayed to every deity he had ever heard of that somehow, Ludwig wouldn't find him. Yet his back was to Russia and he would have to face the monster eventually. It wouldn't be pretty, judging by what had happened to Feliks not long before. What was worse was that Ludwig had broken his promise. He had promised along with England that Mihail would never be hurt (1). Now he was turning around and slowly killing him.

He had tried to ignore the signs, especially the whispers that Ludwig and Russia were planning to do something to him, though he couldn't tell what it was. That was right before Feliks had been hurt. Mihail just backed into his house, telling himself that nothing would happen. It was like a mantra, saying, "It won't happen to me," while thinking, "I'm going to be next." He remembered that Feliks had come to him after that, beaten and bruised (2). Knowing it wouldn't turn out well, Mihail took Feliks into his house and tried to help him.

"He'll come for you next," Feliks had said at one point as he lay on a couch near a small fire. He looked weak and defeated, pale and bruised.

Mihail put a pale hand on Feliks's head and smiled forcedly as though to reassure the fallen nation that it was going to be okay. "Ludwig promised, Feliks," he said quietly. "He wasn't going to touch me, remember?"

"It doesn't matter," Feliks replied, shaking his head slowly. "I heard him talking to Elizabeta about you. She made him promise he would take back Transylvania and he's going to do it."

Immediately, Mihail's hand flew to his necklace, depicting a pitch-black eagle that was nestled between his clavicles. "No," he whispered. "He can't do that."

"I'm sorry, Mihail," Feliks replied. "It's not what you wanted to hear but I don't want you unprepared like I was."

"You were prepared!" Mihail said, his voice straining. "You can still make it if Ludwig lets up a little bit!"

Feliks lifted a hand to cover the lone scar on Mihail's left cheek. A weak smile appeared on his face. "You used to be one of the greatest countries around. I don't think Sadiq ever recovered and I'm sure Elizabeta won't forget you either."

Holding back tears, Mihail pushed the hand away gently. "I'm not like that anymore. I don't want people killed like that. I was a monster then." (3)

"Alfred would debate that," Feliks said with a small smile, making the tiniest attempt at humor.

Mihail managed a tiny smile back. "You know what I mean, Feliks. I've tried to stay peaceful but it's becoming difficult. If they take Transylvania, I don't think I'll last much longer."

"Just try, Mihail. You've come this far. I'm still here and Ludwig beat the shit out of me, pardon my Polish. He's going to come for you but you need to be prepared. If a fight is inevitable, don't cower in front of him. If you have to give up, do it with your head up high, okay?"

"No, I can't."

"Please?" Feliks asked softly, green eyes wide and shimmering in the dim firelight. Mihail lowered his head and finally nodded.

"I'll try."

He did try for a few months afterwards, until Francis and Albert failed to protect him any longer. Ludwig had caught wind of it and went straight for the throat, so to speak. That was how Mihail got to the point he was at for the moment, bloody and bruised. Ludwig hadn't hesitated to hurt him and take everything from him, chipping away at his house and taking it apart, brick by bloody brick. In fear of what was to happen, Mihail hid himself away in his room, only to by found by the power-hungry nation.

Two swift kicks had been delivered into his ribcage by hard leather boots. More blood had flowed from his mouth, staining the skin below his lips. A gloved hand grabbed some of his long black hair and forced it into the blood. "Drink, vampire," Ludwig said teasingly. Mihail had only coughed weakly in response, and then gasped when his head was yanked upwards. Icy blue eyes stared into reddish-brown ones before the hand mercifully let go of him. "I made a promise," Ludwig said, standing up straight and beginning to pace.

"Oh?" Mihail rasped out, glaring at the opposing nation.

"I'm terribly sorry, Mihail. You have been good to me for the past three years, giving me what I need, when I need it. However, that doesn't mean I can go easy on you." (4)

"Yeah, I figured."

Ludwig whirled around and gave Mihail a harsh slap that jerked his head to one side. However, Mihail didn't make a noise or change his facial expression even slightly. The blond nation smirked at the reaction. "You hold up well. Surely you won't miss one little piece of you then, yes?" With that, he closed one hand around the eagle charm and jerked it from Mihail's neck, snapping the chain. (5)

"No!" Mihail shouted, reaching up and grabbing for it. He was met with another harsh kick to the stomach that sent him into fetal position automatically. Blood sprayed from his mouth and he rocked back and forth to try to ease the pain.

Ahead of him, the bedroom door opened and in strolled a very familiar figure, long hair flowing behind her. A quiet laugh came from the woman that Mihail wished he couldn't recognize. "Well my word, Mihail the Great is on the ground like a common beggar. Isn't this a surprise?"

"Ah, Elizabeta, pleasure for you to join us. I just obtained your gift," Ludwig said pleasantly, holding out the hand with the necklace in it.

Elizabeta happily took the necklace from Ludwig and put it in the pocket of her uniform before staring down that the bruised and battered nation on the floor. "You deserved it," she said quietly, although she felt a small bit of pity for him. She had once been close with him long ago, when they were younger. They would help care for each other's houses while enjoying the other's company. Yet at one point, he wanted too much and so did she, so they fought. It had hurt her to see her childhood friend so bent on something but she fought him as much as he did to her. Now he was beneath her, vulnerable and tired, unable to fight. She could probably give him another kick and he wouldn't make it. Yet she refrained, knowing that she wouldn't find peace if she destroyed her childhood friend.

"Elizabeta," he murmured, eyes trained on the ground while one arm curled around his abdomen. "I'm…sorry."

The room was silent after he spoke. For that moment, Elizabeta did feel honest sadness at the sorry state Mihail was in. A glint caught her eye and she saw Ludwig holding out a single pistol to her. She regarded it for a moment before shaking her head and looking back to the weakened man across from her. "You're lucky, Mihail. Very, very lucky. Next time I see you, I will kill you." No sooner had she said that than she was out the door, her hand buried in her pocket, feeling the black eagle necklace under her fingers.

Ludwig remained in the room, slowly walking up to Mihail. He slowly held out his hand. "You can quit this useless neutrality attempt and join us, Mihail."

Mihail brought his head up and tiredly regarded the hand. "What happens if I do?"

"You won't get killed."

"Hah," Mihail laughed humorlessly. "That sounds like a good enough reason, even if you broke that promise already."

"I'll keep it."

"Alright," he said finally, putting his free hand in Ludwig's. He was pulled up and Ludwig put one arm around his own shoulders, supporting him. He laughed again, this time much more dryly. "This is interesting. One minute, you're breaking my ribs and the next, you're helping me."

"I'm helping you because you'll help me."

"Of course," Mihail replied as Ludwig began to put him in his bed, opening his dark gray jacket to examine the bruises he had inflicted.

As unconsciousness began to overtake him, Mihail saw dim images of snow banks splattered in blood and the cities he knew so well burning with the sounds of planes humming above them. (6)


(1) Prior to World War II, England and Germany made a pact with Romania that said that Romania would remain independent. Afterwards, Romania used this so they wouldn't get involved with the Red Army. However, Germany later broke the pact and invaded Romania regardless.

(2) Eight days after Germany began expressing interest in taking over Romania, Poland was taken over. Romania granted refuge to fleeing Polish citizens because they were still neutral at the time.

(3) Mihail here is referring to the era in which Vlad III Tepes was leader of Walachia, a province of Romania. He is better known as Dracula to the rest of us. He was known for being a brutal leader (Tepes literally means 'impaler') and murdered those who stood in his way, rumored to even drink the blood of his enemies, thus birthing the Romanian vampire legend that stays with Romania even today.

(4) During World War II, Romania was the leading oil supplier to Nazi Germany.

(5) Hungary and Romania always debated on who really owned Transylvania. Romania took it after World War I but Germany gave it back to Hungary during World War II. (It's back to Romania now. :3)

(6) After joining with the Axis Powers, the Romanian Army was sent to the infamous Battle of Stalingrad where a huge portion of the army was slaughtered. At the same time, the Allies began bombing Romania to destroy oil factories in an operation known as 'Operation Tidal Wave'. (I'm thinking about writing a fic with a confrontation between Russia and Romania because of Stalingrad and then to the inevitable Communist regime. Whaddaya think?)