Disclaimer: Own nothing.
So this is just a humor piece. There will be some fluffy light m/m pairings but they won't be the focus. This is just a dive into some of the country's dreams.
The faeries were singing today, so England knew that this day promised to be a splendid one. The sun was warm and beaming down on him, with streaks of golden light shining on his favorite book. The sweet songs, the fresh air, the warm light: What more could England ask for?
Suddenly, there was a tap on his shoulder. England turned to look up, frowning when he saw America. Great, this was just what he needed to ruin a perfect day.
But America looked solemn and this made England worry. America sat down in silence.
"What's the matter, America?"
The American country was avoiding eye contact, like a nervous child about to confess to a bad deed. England couldn't remember the last time America showed himself looking so helpless.
"Um….England….?"
"…Yes? What's wrong? Please tell me."
America dared to look up. His blue eyes were wide and pleading and the sight made England's heart melt as fond memories entered his head. America needed him for something.
He actually needed him.
"I…uh…I don't know how to say this…" America stalled.
A thought struck England and he gulped.
"Please tell me you're not in love."
He couldn't stand the thought of his little America falling in love. To his relief, the American nation laughed out loud.
"No, dude. It's nothing like that," he was cheerful for half a second.
"Then what? What is it you need to tell me?"
The smile crashed on the other country's face, the topic was not to be dropped. America bit his bottom lip and looked down to the floor. England's mind flooded with horrifying thoughts. Something was wrong with America, but how could it be so terrible that it would ruin England's day? Didn't the fae promise him a good day today? So why would there be bad news? It didn't make sense!
England jumped up when America clasped his hands in his and started to silently weep.
"Please take me back," America whispered.
The English nation was beyond confused by America's words. He forced America to look at him by grabbing his chin, careful not to hold on too tightly.
"What are you talking about? You're not making any sense, America. Please calm down and tell me plainly what it is you need from me."
The blue eyes spilled a few more stray tears that England swept away with his thumb. America was still distraught but England's advice did seem to be calming him down ever so slightly. America's lips stopped wobbling so much.
"I…I want to be your colony again."
He heard the words very clearly, knew what they meant but still…still England had no idea what he had just heard. Hope swelled in his chest as the seconds ticking by allowed him to process the information.
Was America saying what he thought he was? Was the country that left his side to be his own independent nation, actually pleading him to take him back? What about that war they had centuries ago? The one that America claimed victory and left England crying in the rain. America, the nation that prided himself on being independent, wanted to be England's colony again?
Was this all a glorious dream? England smiled and hugged tightly on his sort-of son.
"Of course I'll take you back, lad! We'll have to fill out a few paperwork and probably assassinate some protesters in your government, but I'll be more than happy to be your father again. My sweet boy!"
Tears of joy were streaming down England's eyes. The fae never disappointed. He still heard their sweet songs above him.
Suddenly, the songs became loud and obnoxious, so much so that it woke England up. He took a gaze of his surroundings and spotted someone unwelcomed.
"What the bloody hell are you doing here?!" England demanded, clutching onto the pillow that he had been hugging in his sleep.
France blew him a kiss but England dodged it so hah! The French nation was clothed in his favorite blue attire, ready to start the day. But his hair was tied back, something he did whenever he wanted to cook.
"I got breakfast ready," the Frenchman stated.
England covered himself up since he was only in his knickers. There was a maddening red blush on his cheeks that France found amusing enough to chuckle at.
"I told you to stop breaking and entering! How'd you find the key this time?"
"You hid it in your rosebushes, mon ami. How could I not find it?"
"What do you mean? You go into my rose bushes?" England demanded.
"I need to save on money whenever I give people symbols of love."
"Do you mean to tell me," England seethed, "That the roses you give to everyone to get into their pants, are mine?!"
"Not always. I never take more than a few dozen," there went that smirk that France was known for. England happily wiped it away by throwing a pillow on his face.
France recovered quickly.
"You looked to be having a wonderful dream. What was zit about?"
"Scrub that smirk off your face. You weren't even in it."
That actually did make France pout a little. England shook himself off and gathered his clothes from the drawer. He would go into his bathroom to change.
France grabbed the empty potion bottle that was on his night stand, the one he drank before bed. The French nation gave it a curious sniff and arched a brow.
"What experiment were you performing on yourself zis time?"
"That's just a potion to give someone good dreams," England explained while he grabbed his trousers. France looked up with interest in his eyes.
"Really? And it actually works?"
"Of course! My magic is completely legit, you wanker! And don't you forget it!" England screamed.
"Could I try it?"
"No way. Get your own faerie made potion. Oh wait, you can't. Because they don't like you. Hahahaha!"
With that victorious and rather gay sounding laugh, England went into his bedroom to change. But France wasn't bothered. He knew England's house well enough to find some of these potions. He wouldn't mind trying it out.
And possibly letting a 'few' other countries try as well.