For ncalkins, who basically came up with the story idea.

Enjoy!~


All those phases that a country goes through, they stick with them, even if they don't show it anymore. America will always have that child in him, Spain will always be a pirate, and France will always be a pervert. The person that has gone through the most phases through would have to be England.

There's when he was a child, untrusting but still innocent.

There's the crusades, the darkest period in his life.

Colonial times, when he loved to explore.

Heck, he was even an angel for a while.

The periods of England's life that have to be the most dominating though, would have to be when he was a pirate, when he was a punk, and now when he is a gentleman. Each one, has it's own opinion, it's own thought process, and it's own voice in the present England's head. They were all driving him insane, and all because of one certain personification of America.

The pirate in England wanted nothing more than to dominate the younger, and to around him constantly. Pirate England wants nothing more than to ravish the American, it was everything that Gentleman England wasn't.

The punk in England loved the American, as he saw him as really the opposite of everything that could be deemed proper. There was something about that rebelling that made the punk in England want to be around the American all the time.

The Gentleman in England disagreed with both of those whole heartily. In a way the gentleman in England hated America for being everything that was so improper, the same reason that made the punk in him fall in love with him. The gentleman denied feeling anything towards the American other than loathing and hate. Yet, everyone and everything seemed to mean the exact opposite.

England couldn't take these voices in his head anymore though. It was easier before America had shown up, but now the personalities in him, all they ever did was talk about America. England was going to do something that he probably should have done from the beginning, but really he had been too scared that something would go wrong when he did. He was going to use a very experimental form of his magic, and if it went wrong then it might be deadly for not only him but anyone that happened to be around him at the time. If he did this correctly though, he would be free of the oppressive voices and he would be free to be who he wanted to be.

England traveled to his basement, where he kept all of his magical supplies. He locked the door behind him, just to make sure that no one would disturb him while he was working. Slowly, taking his time, he pulled candles and incense, along with other things that he would need to make his spell go perfectly. He then put it all in his pentagram on the floor, spreading everything out equally. Holding his book of spells gently under his arm, he began to chant.

Santo Rita Mita Meada Ringo Jonah Tito Marlon Jack La Toya Janet

Michael Dumbledora The Explorer

Santo Rita Mita Meada Ringo Jonah Tito Marlon Jack La Toya Janet

Michael Dumbledora The Explorer

The pentagram began to glow softly.

Santo Rita Mita Meada Ringo Jonah Tito Marlon Jack La Toya Janet

Michael Dumbledora The Explorer

Santo Rita Mita Meada Ringo Jonah Tito Marlon Jack La Toya Janet

Michael Dumbledora The Explorer

Now the pentagram was so bright he could barely see anything except the light. Suddenly he began to shout out what he wanted.

I don't care what the cost

Make these voices lost!

There was nothing but light in the room and England felt as if he was being torn apart from the inside. He screamed in pain, and he knew that this spell wasn't going to turn out like he wanted it to. Pain with his spells normally meant that something had gone horribly wrong. When the light finally decided to settle, England slowly raised his head to look around.

England was no longer alone.

England stared in shock at the two other people in the room with him, all of them unconscious. Next to him was a man that looked exactly like him, the clothes being the only difference. He looked like England from his most recent phase, his punk days. On the other side of the room there was a man dressed as a pirate, lying face down. With a shock,

England realized who these people were.

They were his other personalities.

Him from his punk days and him from his pirate days.

So now he didn't have the voices in his head anymore but really at what cost? Who knew what these other two would do once they woke up and realized that they were the ones in control? Inside he was wondering why he said something so stupid, but he was also glad that the voices were not going to bother him anymore.

Eventually England got up and moved over to where his pirate self was, knowing that he had to take care of him before he did anything else. So England not so carefully hoisted the other man up and dragged him over to a chair where he bound and gagged the other. His pirate self didn't stir a bit. Then England went over to the punk version of himself and had him sit next to the pirate, but England didn't tie him up as he did with the other. He knew how to handle the punk version of himself.

Through the exhausted from the use of his magic, England couldn't even make it to his bedroom. He passed out on the floor, asleep before he his head hit the floor.

England woke up to the sound of a door being slammed shut. His head pounded, but he drug himself off the floor to look around at where he was. England stared around himself in confusion before all the memories of what he had done the night before came crashing into his head. As the atrocities ran about his head, he frantically looked around, making sure that his other selves were still there. He found himself as alone as he was before he had performed the spell. For a moment he thought that it might all have been a dream, but he quickly crossed his thoughts out when he saw a note lying next to him.

Dear Arthur,

We don't really know what to call you, but this seems to be the best. We knew that you hated us, but we never thought you would be stupid enough to try that spell. Now you are finally free, but as for us, we are going to get what we've wanted for all these years.

Signed,

Your other selves.

Arthur stared down at the note in shock, his emerald eyes wide. He knew exactly what his others were going after, having been forced to listen to it for years.

America.

Faster than he could have ever done in his prime, Arthur ran out of the door of his house, towards Alfred's hotel. Arthur had been hosting the world meeting, which was both lucky and unlucky. If he knew where Alfred was, his other personalities did as well. And having Alfred being so close gave his other personalities the advantage of a head start. He wouldn't be able to call Alfred to tell him to find a new place.

Don't want to be an American idiot!

Arthur stopped dead in the middle of his running, checking his pockets for his phone. He finally found it in his coat pocket. Only Alfred had that ringtone, and eagerly he answered it, hoping that nothing had gone wrong so fast.

"Hey Iggy! Do you wa-"

"Alfred! Go and hide somewhere, and when you get there call me! It's a bloody emergency!" Arthur cut Alfred off before he had even had a chance to start. There was silence on the other end before Alfred tried talking again.

"Arthur what is going on?" There was a bang in the background, and the sound of people yelling. Then the line went dead.

"Alfred! Alfred! America!" There was nothing there, not even a dial tone. Just silence.

Arthur ran faster and harder than he ever had before, he had to get to Alfred as fast as he could. His other personalities were probably already there, doing unspeakable things.

Arthur ran through the hotel floor, taking the stairs because the elevator was taking way to long for his liking. His breath burned in his lungs, but he kept running, fearing what would happen if he didn't get to Alfred in time. Finally he got to Alfred's floor, and bolted to where his room was. Arthur stopped short when he saw that his punk self was already there, standing outside the door to keep guard. Arthur shuddered to think about what was already taking place in Alfred's room.

"Hey! Step away from the door." The punk's head snapped up to see Arthur there, standing with his hands on his hips.

The punk smirked. "What if I don't want to?" Arthur glared down at his other, as the punk stood up.

"I'll just have to make you then." His thin patience now gone, Arthur slapped the other straight across the cheek, only to feel as if an electric current went straight through his veins.

As Arthur clutched his hand to his chest in pain, his other looked as if he was having a seizure. Before Arthur's eyes his other began to fade away, and what was left of his essence went straight back into Arthur. The pain that Arthur felt when that happened was horrible; it was as if someone had decided to set his soul on fire. When the pain eventually faded away, Arthur was alone and he felt that one of his voices was back. The said punk was letting out a stream of curses in his head that would have put Lovino to shame.

Alfred stared in what could be called mild surprise at his doorway. His phone was held loosely in his hand, disconnected from the man he had just been talking to. In his doorway Arthur stood, decked out like a pirate. Alfred wanted to laugh at his outfit, but something on the others face said that laughing would be a very bad idea right now. They stared at each other for a very long time before a feral, predator like grin stretched across his face.

"You have no idea how long I've been waiting for this, love." Arthur said before quickly taking a few steps forward. Alfred kept his place, not backing down even though everything inside him was saying to get away from Arthur. I mean Arthur wouldn't hurt him right?

I mean this was Arthur right?

When Arthur was finally right in front of Alfred, he grabbed the younger man's wrist, throwing him easily onto the ground. Alfred was so shocked that he couldn't even react before Arthur was on top of him, straddling his waist.

"What the hell Iggy!" Alfred yelled out, struggling against the weight holding him down. It seemed as though this was one of the few moments when his super strength failed him.

"Hush, love. Just let me do all the work." Arthur said, his British accent sounding low and sensual.

Before Alfred could blink his shirt was off and thrown to the side. He struggled vainly, the carpet scraping against his skin uncomfortably. Arthur grabbed both of his wrists in one lunge of his hand, pinning them to the floor above his head. With his other hand Arthur grabbed one of the cloths from around his waist, tying it around Alfred's wrists. Still the younger man fought against his binds.

"Alfred! Bloody hell are you alright!" Another voice came from the hallway outside. Then the door burst open, revealing a very out of breath and exhausted Arthur, the one that Alfred really knew. Alfred looked in between the Arthur on top of him and the Arthur in the doorway in total confusion.

"England?" He said worriedly, only to have the pairs of eyes that were locked on each other, lock on him. Pirate Arthur smirked down at him, while normal Arthur had a look of rage that Alfred has ever seen before.

"Get off of him!" Regular Arthur shouted, while Pirate Arthur turned to smirk at him instead.

"Why so furious? Don't you want to do this to him to? If I have these feelings, you do as well." Arthur froze in his tracks, his face turning a dark red shade.

"What? I-I don't have such feelings!"

Before the other could respond, England rushed at his other personality, knocking him off of Alfred. The said hero lay there stunned on the floor, not really willing to believe what was going on in front of him. As the two tussled on the ground Alfred furiously fought against his binds, releasing his hands almost immediately. Alfred jumped up, pulling the two apart.

"Bloody hell you twit! Let me go!" The pirate exclaimed, swiping at Alfred's arm. Alfred just held him a bit higher.

"Not until someone explains to me what the fuck is going on!" The two England's relaxed in his grip, thinking that they were done fighting for now. Then Arthur jerked in his hand, being so unexpected, Alfred dropped him, but somehow managed to keep his other hand on the pirate.

"That's enough! I'm ending this." Arthur said before he walked right up to his pirate self and slapped the other on the cheek, just like he had with the punk.

It was a lot worse than when he had slapped the punk. His pirate self was having such a seizure that it was as if he was going to die any second now. When he finally evaporated into only his essence though, it seemed to hesitate or a second before going back into Arthur, but when it did the pain that the punk had caused was nothing compared to what he was feeling right now. His chest felt like his heart was being ripped out, his throat closed up to where he could get no air, and his hands clenched so tightly that he drew blood from his palms. Yet all the while this was going on Arthur felt two strong arms wrap around him, and a familiar voice murmuring comforting words. Soon the pain was gone, and Arthur was left exhausting and panting in Alfred's arms.

"Are you alright?" Alfred said, not letting go of Arthur. Arthur slowly nodded.

"So you want to explain to me what just happened?" Arthur looked sad for a second, and then in a rush he explained everything that had happened. How he had put the spell on himself, how he had rushed here the moment his pirate self escaped, and how it seemed he had gotten here just in time. When Arthur was done they just sat together in silence, Alfred trying to process everything and Arthur to embarrassed to say anything.

"Is it true?" Alfred eventually asked.

"Of course it's true! How else could any of this happen?" Arthur snapped back.

"Not that. Is it true you have feelings for me like your pirate personality said?" Arthur felt a blush crawl across his cheeks.

"Wha-? No I do not you bloody wank-" Alfred stopped him with a kiss. It was short and sweet, and over before Arthur got a chance to do anything.

"I like you to Iggy." Alfred said with a smile.

"Don't call me that idiot." Arthur mumbled before he leaned in for another kiss.


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