AN: Omg, so it's finally here ⤴︎ ε=ε=(ง ˃̶͈̀ᗨ˂̶͈́)۶ ⤴︎ ~! Man, I didn't think I'd ever get around to this. So, you probably want to just skip to the story, and I can't stop you, but here are a few things to know:

1. The one-shots will circulate through Francis x Alice, Francis x Arthur, Francine x Alice, Francine x Arthur. Got it? It's a tad bit complicated, I still have my head spinning every time I read it. Oh, well.

2. I accept requests! Send in a prompt (FrUK only for this series, sorry), and you can choose whether or not to include genders and time periods. If you don't, that's totally fine and I can choose those.

3. I have the right to deny any sort of requests. I refuse to write any smut, suicide, murder, or rape stories.

4. I will only be updating once a week, since I have violin auditions to prepare for (35 days), and "Summer School" to do. Also, updating once a week allows more time for writing Blood on the Pavement (which is in progress as we speak). Another thing to note is that I may or may not post in the 2nd week of July, since mia familia is planning a trip to Cali for a week and I'll be hella busy.

So, without further ado, I present Love is a Noun!

Letters

France x Fem!England

The personification of France stared down at the crumpled letter in his hands, bewildered.

It was old and wrinkled like someone had tried to destroy the thing but either couldn't or didn't want to. The envelope looked as if it'd been carried through rain, mud and…were those blood stains? The bright red wax seal that held together the letter was old, too. Over two hundred years old, if he guessed right.

What a peculiar thing to find in England's office. He had been sneaking into the cantankerous country's office, looking for something interesting to do, just moments earlier. Francis was waiting for her to show up since their bosses had insisted on another meeting between the two. Honestly, he didn't know why either of them thought putting them together was a good idea. They were like oil and water, as the phrase went. Worse, they were France and England, they'd been fighting for thousands upon thousands of years. In all those thousands of years, he'd never been waiting for England for over two hours. What was it Shakespeare said? Better to be three hours early than a minute too late, or something ? It was strange, really. Alice was always punctual. Her boss must've held her back for something and she forgot to cancel. That was the only logical reason Francis could come up with. Really, the blonde woman was working herself way too hard. For once, it'd be nice if she took a vacation from work. Just watching her do all that work made him tired; he had no idea how she managed it all. Then again, Alice was always so determined. She'd been like that since she was a child. Alice dreamed of becoming an empire from an early age. Her siblings and later other European countries ridiculed her for thinking that. No one could ever beat Rome. He was the greatest empire ever. Even Francis used to tell her that her dream was silly, but that had just made her even more determined. And she did it. She became one of the strongest empires to exist. And if France was being truly honest on an odd day, he might even say that she was the greatest empire he knew. She'd made mistakes, they all did. But she changed the way countries lived. She got rid of the old tradition to treat your colonies like slaves, her people invented the Magna Carta, and one of the earliest countries to abolish slavery. Alice had several colonies that grew up to become strong, steady countries, as well. Especially, Alfred and Matthew, which he did have a role to play in if he did say so himself. Alice resembled her country's national animal very well. A lion. A noble lioness that once ruled one-fourth of the entire planet. They say that the British Empire has long gone, and it's true that she's not as powerful as she once was, but it's wrong to say that. At least to Francis. He can still see that spark of fire in her whenever she's fired up. A spark that was still bright, centuries later. Not that he'd ever admit it, but it was the main reason why he teased her so much. It was too fun to see her light up like that. And besides, when your only other option is to pay attention to Germany's long speeches, who can blame him ? He looked back down at the letter. Alice kept many small trinkets in her attic from her past. Her pirate clothes, Victorian clothes, swords, guns, jewels, etc. One from every era of hers, and she used magic to keep it protected, he thinks he remembered Alice telling that to Honk Kong. But a letter? That was a new one. What was so special about a letter? She wouldn't mind if he opened it right? Ah, que diable, the worst she would do was turn him into a frog for a week. Careful not to destroy the delicate thing, Francis took a silver letter opener from Alice's desk and slowly split open the envelope. A pale, perfectly clean piece of parchment paper fell out. Alice must've put a spell on it since it wasn't completely destroyed like it's envelope. He unwrapped the letter and he began to read.

Dear Francis Bonnefoy, AKA the frog,

I love you.

Francis felt his heart stop.

I know, it's utterly bonkers. And I know I'm a complete moron for thinking I'd ever be lucky enough for you to even glance at me in that way. For even thinking that I might deserve anyone. It's been on my mind for as long as I can remember, constantly nagging at me, but I only realized what it was that I was feeling after I was forced to marry Spain. Do you remember that? Mary was so smitten with Phillipe, there was nothing I could do.

Your friend is an utter bastard, by the way.

Francis couldn't help it. He laughed.

Every time I'm around you, I'm in constant awe. I try to impress you: dress better than the other girls, to show to you that I excel in the social world and poetry and music. That I can succeed in power and battle. But I've always been a clumsy fool. I'm not elegant like you. Francis, you're beautiful, inside and out. France, your kind, and caring, even to those who will never deserve it. Your voice is beautiful, and I'm sorry that I tease you about your accent. I don't mean it, really, and I know it makes you self-conscious.

Francis frowned at that. Alice certainly didn't act like she was trying to impress him. She was competitive, yes, but he never once thought that she was trying to impress anyone. Let alone him. Then again, Alice had always been different around Francis. She knew him better than anyone else and it made him feel…Odd. Almost like a hideous wool sweater. Warm and comforting while still driving you mad with an itch that just wouldn't go away.

Your skin is smooth, your hair is silky gold and your eyes…God, your eyes are mesmerizing. They're a deep, rich sea of velvet indigo. I could stare at them all day, but I'll never tell anyone that, least of all you. They carry so much emotion, and though you're constantly trying to hide it during political battles, I can see it. They hold smoldering passion. You fight for your people; you carry a rebel's spirit.

Francis' cheeks lit aflame. Sure, he wasn't lacking in compliments, nor was he self-conscious, but a compliment from Alice was worth more than gold.

All I am is a soldier. I know nothing more than the bloodlust of battle, and you showed me more than that.

Francis quickly frowned. She wasn't just a soldier. She was a mother, a warrior, a martyr, a writer, a romantic, a terrible cook, a witty and cranky woman and so much more. She wasn't just a soldier.

You have the most beautiful smile, Francis, I hope you know that.

I hope you know that, despite being ridiculed by other countries, you're one of the bravest countries, no, person, I know. But yes, you are a tad bit ridiculous, though you're adorable when you are. You hate fighting. You're a lover, after all. But when you fight for love, no one can stand in your way. Your country is beautiful, too. The rivers, the mountains, the perfect weather, the plains. The meadows of flowers and your enchanting forests. Your people are kind and ingenious.

And in all honesty, Francis, your wine isn't too bad. Or your food. I'm never fully truthful with you, but, out of all the millions of dishes I've eaten in my life, none has ever been like yours.

Francis' felt his heart swell and he had to look away for fear of bursting in joy.

I always try to make you proud, but I know that you won't be.

Why should you? You hate me, and you have every right to. I killed her. I killed the woman that you loved, the warrior of God. She was beautiful, and yet, so simple. She was but a humble farm girl and you put all of your trust into her. You loved her. You loved her and you'd only known her for a short while. I'd been trying to make you see how much I loved you, just to see, for hundreds of years.

But you loved her, and not me.

I'm sorry. I can't physically describe how sorry I am for what I did to her. For what I did to you. I made you, the embodiment of "amour", hate love. It took you centuries to recover, and even today I worry that you still aren't all right. I know you're scared to love again, so you simply settle for one-night stands.

If I could rewind time, I would change it. I'd save her, even if it felt like my heart was being crushed as you smile down at her.

How many people have you loved and had taken away from you? Did you really love my brother, Alistair? It hurt so much to see both my family and the man I love fight against me at the same time.

Francis' heart stung and he felt the sudden urge to cry out. NO. No, he didn't hate Alice. He had hated her. He wanted to kill her with his bare hands several times. But he didn't hate her now. Francis had long since forgiven Alice. He knew how much she regretted Jeanne. Even during the times of the Hundred Years' War, Francis had known that Alice hadn't really meant for Jeanne's death. He knew that she left a bouquet of lilies on Jeanne's statue every year, without fail, even though he had never seen her.

Do love little Canada? Little, shy, quiet Matthew? I know you do. I can recognize a father's love. Another thing that I love about you, you accept Alfred as your own, even though he's not your colony. Even though he's my child. Thank you so much, Francis. You don't live with us, so you don't know how much it makes a difference in Alfred's life. In mine. He calls you papa, you know. I hope one day he can tell you that to your face, and you can find room in your heart to call him your son, despite his connection to me.

Francis loved Matthew and Alfred. Of course, he did. They were his children as much as they were her's. Surprisingly, Alfred was much shyer than Matthew when it came to expressing feelings and love. Francis supposed that that had to do with him being primarily brought up by Alice. She'd had such an isolated and terrible childhood. She had given her best to Matthew and Alfred, but even she had drawn short at some points because she had no experience.

I suppose that you should know that the reason I'm writing this letter is to forget.

Portugal said this was a good way to deal with these feelings. Granted, he didn't know what I was writing about, he just said that the best way to get rid of negative feelings are to write them down and then burn them.

Francis snorted. Portugal. Of course, she went to Portugal. Never mind talking to Francis. France who had been with her since they had met in the glory days of the Roman Empire. France who had seen every part of Alice and would continue to see every part, damn it.

I don't know whether these feelings are bad or good. You always make me feel so happy, but at the same time, it hurts. I get explosions in my stomach and I can't think straight around you. Kind of like rum, actually. You make me feel drunk.

Not very romantic, is it?

No, it wasn't, but it still made Francis giddy inside.

It's true, stupid enough as it is. I want to tell you, but I know I shouldn't. We're enemies. We have been for thousands of years, now. I need to get rid of these feelings before they interfere with my life as a country. As the protector of Britannia. Don't take offense to it, I just can't take that risk. We both can't. We were made to protect and serve our people until the day they no longer need us, and so I shall carry out my duty, whether I like it or not.

This is goodbye. Goodbye, to all the feelings I have for you. I no longer get tingles in my stomach, I no longer get giddy when you're around, I no longer will waste hours trying to get your attention, I no longer will try to make myself beautiful for you.

I no longer love you.

-Sincerely, Alice Kirkland.

Francis took a moment to process that. He kept glancing up and down from the paper in his hands. She loved him?! Alice Kirkland loved him?! A slow, but a grand smile began to cross his face.

Sizzling feelings ran through him, like that exploding candy that Alfred had in his country. Francis was taken over with a giddy feeling. Suddenly, he jumped up and started just wiggling around and kicking around in a happy mess. "Mon Dieu! Mon Dieu!" He shouted, happily. He could care less if anyone heard him or came into the room. She loved him. The woman he'd been starstruck in love with for as long as he's known the word amour, finally returned his feelings!

Wait…

He stared down at the letter, again. Just to make sure it wasn't a dream or a stupid prank of Spain's or Prussia's. Nope, only Alice could manage to have that perfectly, tiny, neat, cursive handwriting.

But the letter's so old, a voice in his head said, are you sure she still feels this way?

Another spoke up, Why would she have the letter still if she didn't love you anymore?

"Frog, what are you doing here?" Alice asked from the door.

Francis felt a jolt go through him, he hid the letter behind his back as quickly as he could. "O-Oh, Alice, I-I zought we were ha-having a meeting today?"

"Not for another hour, actually." Alice stared at him skeptically. As if she didn't notice him hide the letter. "What's that?"

"Ce n'est rien!" Francis said, way too quickly. "R-Rien. Il est juste des trucs de travail."

Right. Alice wasn't in the mood for any that shit. She'd had two other meetings already, filled with a bunch of fifty-year-old pricks who thought they knew better than her, a fucking twelve thousand and something-year-old country. And lets not even talk about how many interns that had run into her and spilled their cheap frappuccinos on her white blouse. She stalked over to France.

He tried to put it out of her reach, but her knee shot up hit him straight in the family jewels. The French nation let out a strangled cry before falling to the ground and groaning in pain.

Alice's eyes scanned the paper and a cold wave of horror splashed down her spine. Her eyes went wide and her hands trembled as she held the paper in her hand. "…How much of it did you read?" Alice's voice was deadly calm and quiet.

Hesitantly, Francis looked up. "All of it." His voice was soft, and Alice took it as a sign of rejection. She flinched when France's hand grabbed her wrist, but his hold was gentle.

Alice felt her eyes sting and her nose prickle. She tossed her head to the opposite direction. England would not let him see her cry over something so-so-so…so stupid. "Chérie, s'il vous plaît, regardez-moi." Francis whispered softly, standing up. "Avez-vous vraiment dire il? Ce que tu as dit?"

"N-no!" She hissed, still looking away. "Of course, I didn't, you bastard! It was just a practical joke, that's all. I-I just never got around to sending it to you."

"It says you were supposed to burn it." Francis still kept his voice soft. He desperately didn't want the spark of hope in his chest to go out. "…Alice, me regarde." Francis took his slender hands and turned her head towards him. Alice didn't resist for some reason. Maybe some masochistic side of her wanted this. Wanted him to find out the truth. Francis barely held himself back from wiping away the tears that blurred her grass green eyes.

"I don't want your pity." She managed to huff at him. "I've gotten over it, anyways."

"Have you? Have you really?"

No.

No, of course, she hadn't. Alice never once managed to burn the damn thing. Every time she tried, something deep in her chest stopped her. Alice carried that letter nearly everywhere with her, you could tell by the envelope. She took it with her in the Revolutionary War, both of the World Wars, every battle after writing the letter. It was a charm, of sorts. It kept her grounded, reminding her that she too, was just a person when you took away the fancy titles and age. It kept her feeling safe from the nightmares that World War II left on her.

Her silence was enough for Francis. "I never noticed…" He let out a bitter, humorless chuckle. "I'm the country of amour and I didn't even notice your feelings."

Alice huffed as she felt another stab to her pride. "Of course, you didn't. Being the country of love doesn't make up for the fact that you're a complete moron, Frog."

"Do you still believe in it, Anglettere?" Francis asked. Do you still believe in love, Alice? Even, after all, you went through? After all those years that I remained oblivious?

She didn't stop the tears from flowing down her cheeks. Oh, well. She can just use a forget spell on Francis later. "Yes… Just look a-at, Alfred and Ivan. O-or Germany and Italy, or-"

"You." Francis insisted, clenching her wrist tighter, unknowingly. "Do you believe that love-"

"Will find me?" Alice whipped herself out of his hold. "Do you know how long I've waited? How long I've wished that just once. Once! One time for me to feel what love is?" Her voice cracked as she yelled. Composure was completely forgotten, now. Alice sunk to the floor, sobbing. "Fairy Tales of true love are for the good people. For the ones who don't have billions of peoples blood on their hands. For the ones that aren't like me-"

Francis didn't stop himself.

His lips crashed onto hers, desperately trying to unleash all the feelings he held for her. All the love, the lust, the hate, anger, the sadness, everything. Slowly, Alice began to move her lips against his. She was kissing back. He didn't hide the smile that smeared his face. The hope and love sizzled in his chest, spreading through his blood and circling through his whole being. Reluctantly, they pulled away.

Francis was about to confess his undying love for her, but Alice shoved him away. "Where are they?" She hissed, bright green eyes livid and full of pain.

"Wha-"

"Where's Spain and Prussia?" Alice said, "Where are they, recording this? I refuse to be part of one of your untasteful pranks-"

Francis grabbed her wrist and forced her hand onto his chest. "Can't you feel it?" His heartbeat was running faster than it ever had before. It echoed in his mind. "Mon cœur ne se sent comme ça quand je suis près de toi, Alice. Je t'aime. Je vous ai toujours aimé, je le promets."

"…Please tell me you mean it." England clung to his shirt, clentching it tightly. Any other time, he would've scolded her for wrinkling the expensive material, but right now he couldn't care less. Her hands were trembling.

"Je t'aime, Alice."

A shy smile graced her face. Little explosions ran through her body. The words sounded rough on her tongue, it'd been so long since she last said something in her original language, but she managed. "Ic lufie þē." And then their lips met once more.

Translations:

Que diable = What the hell.

Mon Dieu = My God.

Ce n'est rien = It's nothing.

Rien. Il est juste des trucs de travail = Nothing. It 's just work stuff.

Chérie, s'il vous plaît, regardez-moi = Darling, please, look at me.

Avez-vous vraiment dire il? Ce que tu as dit? = Do you really mean it? What you said?

…Alice, me regarde = …Alice, look at me.

Amour = Love.

Anglettere = England

Mon cœur ne se sent comme ça quand je suis près de toi, Alice. Je t'aime. Je vous ai toujours aimé, je le promets = My heart only feels like that when I 'm around you, Alice. I love you. I have always loved you, I promise.

Je t'aime, Alice = I love you, Alice. Ic lufie þē = I love you.

It should also be noted that not all of the one-shots will be this long. Over 2k words, I can guarantee, but I'm a pretty inconsistent b*tch. Also, let me know if you guys want to see more fluff, or any specific periods or characters you want to see, etc. All feedback is welcome.