Disclaimer: AilateH nwo t'nod eW!
A/N: Hey, everyone!
We seem to be getting the same comments from people. "I hated Germany. But I love when you write him." Or "I used to hate GerPo but I love your couple." Stuff like that. So we want to know. What do you hate, but when we write it you love it? I actually used to hate America just because people portrayed him as arrogant and rude. But I kind of like our America. He's a loving father who seems to have the innocent feel to him
So who do you love and why when we write? It'd be great if you could answer us. Tell you what, we'll even throw in a prize. If we can get five people to answer our question, everyone who comments will get a request! It could be for a new OC or just a particular scene! And seriously. We mean it. GIVE US REQUESTS! We take them into account.
So answer! Answer! Answer!
Enjoy! Please review!
French Indochina War
1946 – 1954
France vs. Vietnam
"Well isn't that sweet," a cocky voice sneered from behind the pair.
Prussia froze. His eyes narrowed as they darted around the kitchen to locate all exit routes and possible weapons. That done, he slowly lowered South to the floor and turned around.
England stood in the doorway, leaning against the doorframe with crossed arms. Russia and France stood behind him. While England wore a rather annoying smirk, the other two appeared uninterested in either Prussia or South.
"England," Prussia said, his eyes scanning the three nations before him. "What are you doing here? I thought you and France were in Pairs. And why are you a boy?" His ruby eyes flicked up to England's onyx ones.
"Why would I be in Paris with the bloody Frog?" England glanced over his shoulder at France. "And why are you asking why I'm a boy?"
"You are forgetting." France tapped a fist against England's head. "I made profiles on each and every one of them." England slapped his hand away.
"Verdammt," Prussia growled. "Doppelgangers."
"Cheers, Love," England's doppelganger said with a smirk. "I'm Britain. This here is Francia and that's Rossiya."
Rossiya gave Prussia a childish smile. "What can you tell me about them, Big Brother?" he asked Francia.
"The man is Prusse and the woman is Sud," Francia sighed. "They have six children. Five are at Autriche's house and the last is at Amérique's house. They have been married for over a decade. Prussia came back from the dead several years ago. Sud still suffers from the civil war and has emotional issues. Not to mention she is strong."
"How strong?" Britain asked curiously.
France quirked an eyebrow at the other doppelganger. "She can lift a car." Britain gave a low whistle at that.
"How did you know all that?" Prussia snarled as he located every weapon on his person while thinking of a battle plan.
"But wait," Francia chuckled. "There's more. Sud can used magic."
"Magic?" Britain looked to Francia sharply. "What kind of magic can she use?"
"Will you stop talking about us like we're not here?" Prussia roared. "We can hear you just fine!"
"Je ne sais pas. (I don't know.)" France shrugged. "And the little boy is demanding your attention."
"Oh, fine." Britain rolled his eyes before turning to Prussia. "What the bloody hell do you want?"
"To get the hell out of my house!" Prussia whipped a gun from his belt and fired three shots at the doppelgangers. All three ducked before Rossiya, with surprising speed for such a large nation, was suddenly before Prussia.
"Privet." Rossiya smiled and grabbed the gun. The metal screamed as it was crushed easily in his grip.
"Verdammt!" Prussia stumbled back, his shins running into the kitchen table. Rossiya smiled and stepped forward with him.
"Get back, you yaller dog!" A fist flew out of nowhere and Rossiya was sent flying across the kitchen. He crashed into a wall, causing it to crumble around him. Francia and Britain stared at the damaged wall in disbelief.
"Danke, Teufelhund," Prussia said, reaching into his boot and drawing a knife.
"Dammit," Britain snarled.
"Oui, I agree." France nodded. "And might I add that Prussia has many weapons on him and is taking one out right now."
"Dammit!" Britain repeated.
"Lame, Francia." Prussia lunged forward, swinging the knife at Britain's throat. "Reminds me of the Franco-Prussian War."
Britain cursed and ducked, his hand glowing with a spell. "Bloody git," he muttered, slamming his hand into Prussia's chest. There was a moment of silence before the ex-nation was sent flying backward in pain. His entire body hummed with pain and it was several minutes before he could focus.
Prussia groaned and rolled onto his stomach, supporting himself on his elbows. A boot suddenly planted itself on his back and Prussia found himself pinned to the floor.
"I wouldn't go anywhere, poppet," Britain said from above Prussia. "We're just beginning to have fun." The heat of another spell neared Prussia's neck but stopped just an inch form his skin. "Blast it all!" Britain growled. Prussia took advantage of the hesitation. Rolling over, he sized Britain by the arm and flipped him to the floor.
South crouched beside her husband, having been the one to grab Britain's hand. She looked angrier than Prussia had ever seen her before.
"Danke, again," Prussia growled. He struggled to his knees, glaring at the three doppelgangers.
"That one's bigger." South pointed at Rossiya. "That one's smart." She motioned to Francia. "And that one's an ass." She pointed at the last doppelganger.
"Hey!" Britain scrambled up from where he had landed. "Who the bloody hell taught you manners?"
"Not you," South replied sarcastically.
"I say we kick their asses," Prussia said, standing and cracking his knuckles.
"You could try," Francia sighed. "Or you could truly think. Besides, I believe he has finally come."
"Who?" Prussia asked in confusion.
"What's going on here, losers?" a cackling voice interrupted the group. All three doppelgangers scowled at the source.
"Him." Another Prussia stepped into the room, a smirk on his face and black eyes.
"Not. Awesome," Prussia snarled. "Is this supposed to scare me?"
"Maybe." The other Prussia smirked. "Maybe not."
"You remember your wars, non?" Francia asked, waving a hand through the air.
"Ja." Prussia clenched a fist, looking at South through the corner of his eye.
"Well then." Francia smirked. "We are your Wars. Every battle you've been in. Every drop of blood you spilled. Every nation you fought or person you killed."
South stiffened but her face showed no expression.
"Like I said," Prussia sneered. "Now awesome." He lunged forward toward the four doppelgangers. Francia ducked under a blow and Rossiya smiled when he hit Prussia in the chest. The nation stumbled back to find himself grabbed by Britain and Preußen.
"Git," Britain grunted as he kept a grip on Prussia's arm. "Did you really think we were that weak?"
"I figured you were that lame." Prussia tried to twist his arm out of Preußen's grip. The doppelganger only cackled and easily kept his grip.
"You're the lame one, loser!'
Prussia kicked Britain in the stomach and managed to wrench both his arms free. He whirled around to find his wife.
"South, run!"
"Dammit!" Britain and Preußen lunged forward but were stopped when a large body surged between them and Prussia.
"Was?" Prussia stumbled back, his eyes widening in surprise.
A mustang snorted and stamped its hooves. It flicked its tail and reared slightly in warning to the doppelgangers. When it glanced back at Prussia, he could see a single star on her forehead. The only white piece marring the gray coat.
Prussia smirked. "Awesome."
"You didn't tell us she could turn into a bloody horse!" Britain screeched. Francia winced at the tone directed at him.
"I didn't know," he shot back. "She's never transformed before this."
"And how the hell would you know?" Prussia demanded, crossing his arms. He kept an eye on the mustang before him.
"We have watched your every move for the past six months," Francia snapped. "We know everything about you and more."
South snored and stomped a hoof.
"Not awesome." Prussia inched up to South's side. "Why would you losers be doing that?"
"Why do you think?" Francia sighed.
South shifted uncomfortably, unable to see behind herself fully.
"You're here to conquer us," Prussia said. He placed one hand on South's back. "But you're not going to. Because I'm awesome like that." He used his hands to swing himself onto South's back.
"Stop him!" Britain shouted. Preußen and Rossiya darted forward but South was already whirling around and charging out of the kitchen. She froze in the hallway and snorted angrily at the closed door before them.
"Verdammt." Prussia looked over his shoulder. "I'll get the doors, you make a break for it." South whinnied and turned, darting up the stairs before Prussia could dismount.
"Wait!" Prussia grabbed onto South's mane. "You can't jump from up there! It's dangerous!" South ignored her husband and stopped at the master's bedroom. She eyed the open balcony doors, pawing at the ground.
"Nein." Prussia tightened his grip. "Gefallen. (Please.) Nein."
With a snort, South charged forward, ignoring the shouts from behind her. Her front hooves hit the edge of the balcony and she tucked her legs in as her hind legs reach the last of their solid ground.
"Gott verdammt!" Prussia laid flat against South's back, clinging desperately to her. "I hate riding bareback!"
South landed on the shed roof, several shingles falling off when she did. She raced along the top dangerously as her hooves continued to slip along the sloped edges.
"Can we please get down from here," Prussia whined. "I think I prefer the car."
South leapt off the roof of the shed and landed on the ground with a clatter. With a great whinny, she shot for the cover of the forest.
o)O(o
Something began to poke China in the side repeatedly. When he didn't automatically respond to the prodding, hot metal touched his bare skin.
"Aiyah!" China's eyes flew open and he jerked away from the hot metal. Nihon crouched beside China, a poker from the fireplace in his hand.
"Good morning," the War said.
China breathed hard, adrenaline rushing through his veins from the hot sensation.
"G-Good morning, aru," he said. Nihon cocked his head, looking as though he was mulling the words over.
"No kiss?" Nihon asked in a warning tone.
"I am sorry." China ducked his head once before slowly leaning forward to kiss Nihon on the cheek. "Good morning, aru."
"Hai." Nihon smiled. "Good morning." He tossed the poker aside and began to rock on his heels. "Would you like to have some fun today, China-kun?"
"If you wish, aru," China said a bit nervously. Having fun with Nihon had proven dangerous in the past three weeks.
Nihon frowned and his eyes slid to the poker. "I would like an answer."
"Yes." China closed his eyes tightly. "Yes, I would like to have fun, aru."
"Good." Nihon reached forward and unlocked the manacles around China's wrists. "Then come with me." He then stood and left the room.
China stood on wobbly legs, using the wall to support himself as he followed Nihon out of the room. America glared with crossed arms from where he stood speaking with Romano. Norway passed by, barely brushing China and paying him no heed. China kept his head ducked as he followed Nihon closely.
A young woman glared at China and grimaced. She whirled around and quickly left, barely allowing China to be able to fully look at her. China watched her leave from the corner of his eye before they flicked back to Nihon.
"You may want to be careful," Nihon teased China as Korea passed by. "Some of them may want to harm you." Hong Kong turned around and scowled at China, looking ready to pounce on him.
"Relax, kid!" Turkey chortled as China passed him. "Ya'll get plenty of time with him later." He ruffled the shorter doppelganger's hair. Hong Kong scolwed and ducked, slapping Turkey's hand away. In revenge, he hooked a foot around China's leg and pulled as the ancient nation passed by.
"Aiyah!" China, weak from his imprisonment, fell to the floor hard. He gritted his teeth but didn't say anything back to the nation. Nihon froze and turned around, crossing his arms and frowning at China.
"I'm not going to wait all day," he said.
"Yes, Nihon, aru." China was quick to get back on his feet. He winced at the pain in his left knee. There was no doubt a bruise. China felt a hand steady him when almost fell over once more. Glancing over his shoulder, the ancient nation saw Iceland with his expressionless face.
"Say 'thank you', China-kun," Nihon scolded. "Ísland was kind enough to help you."
"Thank you, Ísland, aru," China said, ducking his head. Ísland shrugged and left without saying anything else.
"Come along." Nihon turned and began walking once more. China hurried to follow the doppelganger, trying to keep an eye out for any other Asian nations who might want to hurt him.
"Here we are." Nihon stopped outside a door. He opened it and looked at China expectantly.
China swallowed hard and stepped into the room. The minute his last foot left the hallway, the door was quickly shut and locked behind him.
"What?" China whirled around, grasping for the handle. "Nihon, aru?"
"Co?" a quiet voice asked. China whirled around, his eyes widening.
"Poland, aru?" he asked nervously. Poland whimpered and curled up tightly. Her hands had been bound to the headboard and the only cover she had was a comforter.
"Tak."
China's back hit the door as he stumbled backward. His mouth was dry as the desert at the thought of what Poland must think of him. He had killed nations and betrayed his own kind. But Poland made no move to even look at China. She only whimpered pitifully.
"Poland?" China asked again. He dared to make his way slowly to the female nation's bedside. "A-Are you alright, aru?"
"Nie." Poland's voice came out in a whine before she broke down into sobs.
"What happened, aru?" China gingerly sat on the edge of the bed and fixed the comforter covering Poland.
"Lietuva," Poland whispered, her breath coming out in loud hiccups.
"Did he?" China swallowed hard before daring to continue. "Did he violate you, aru?"
"Tak," Poland wailed and buried her face in the pillows.
"Oh, Poland." China leaned forward and hugged Poland's head, the only part of her he felt comfortable being near. "I am sorry, aru." Poland burst out in another fit of sobs.
"Everything is going to be alright." China leaned back and looked around himself. "If you wish I will care for you, aru."
"It hurts." Poland curled up even tighter.
"I will see if I can find any pain medicine in the bathroom, aru," China said.
Standing from the bed, China hurried to the bathroom and searched through the cupboards. Once he had found the first-aid kit, he ran towels under a hot water as a substitute for hot pad. He returned to the bedroom with the items.
"It would be a good idea to use a pillow for more comfort, aru," China said wisely, drawing on years of knowledge.
Poland said nothing, keeping her face in the pillows.
"Poland," China said nervously. "I am going to untie you so you may clean yourself up. I ask that you try not to move too much so you will not cause any more pain for yourself, aru."
Poland only nodded in response and lifted her hands up in an attempt to slacken the rope binding her to the headboard. China was quick to untie her hands before handing Poland a wet washcloth. He turned his back to give her privacy. Poland was silent for several minutes before she finally spoke up.
"Dziadek, (Grandfather,)" she said softly. "Can you please, like, get me a shirt?"
"Of course." China moved to the wardrobe and found a rather large shirt for the female nation. Closing his eyes, he turned and held out the clothing for Poland. "Here, aru." Shaking hands took the shirt and China eventually heard.
"Okay."
China opened his eye and they softened at the sight of a terrified a Poland.
"Lay back down, aru," he ordered gently. He pulled the comforter back for Poland to lay on the other side of the bed. When she was situated, a pillow was used to support Poland's sore pelvic region and hot towels were laid across her hips.
"That should help with the pain, aru," China said before handing Poland the medicine bottle. Poland took the bottle and studied it, looking as though she might swallow the entire thing.
"Poland." China gently took the bottle from Poland. "It is not the end of the world. We have been in worse situations before." He took Poland's hand in his own and held it close. "Please do not give up hope. I have been here for nearly three weeks and I am still hoping someone will come, aru."
"I've been, like, conquered before," Poland whispered. "But never that." She seemed unable to actually talk about her ordeal.
"Everyone must face new troubles at some point in their lives." China sat on the edge of the bed and stroked Poland's hair out of her face. "But that does not necessarily mean your life is over. You can steal heal and move on, aru."
"I, like, don't think so I can this time, Dziadek," Poland whimpered.
"Yes you can," China said firmly. "You are strong, you have done it before. And you have many people willing to help you. And quit calling me Grandfather! I am not that old, aru!"
"Tak," Poland giggled. "You are."
"I am only five thousand years old," China sniffed, pretending to be offended. "It isn't that old. Only a few thousand years more than Morocco, aru."
"Like, keep telling yourself that," Poland teased. "Dziadek."
"If I am a grandfather, then you are a yīng'ér, (baby,) aru."
o)O(o
Albania scowled from where he leaned against the wall. His hands had been moved to hang above his head, held in place by a hook hoisting the chains into the air. Bruises covered his body and his ear throbbed from where Turkey had pierced the helix.
"I am growing tired of this," Germany growled, rubbing his sore knuckles. "And I am in a very bad mood right now."
"You're in a bad mood?" Albania laughed. "What about the one you happen to be punching?"
"You have information," Germany pointed out as he advanced on Albania. "Information that could possibly tell us where my fiancée and Italy are."
"I do not!" Albania drew his legs up to his chest quickly. "I swear! I don't know anything! I swear on my honor!"
"What honor? You steal and lie to every nation you encounter." Germany grabbed Albania's chin in a tight grip. "You should be thankful America's even bothering to try and save you."
"Yeah?" Albania jerked his chin out of Germany's grasp. "Well, maybe he has the right idea."
"I do not think so." Germany stepped back as if to examine Albania. "His punishment is rather weak compared to Europe or Asia's. Turkey wanted to cut your hand off."
"What?" Albania squawked and struggled against his handcuffs. "The bastard! I knew he was sadistic."
"Nein, it is his culture." Germany cracked his knuckles, stepping forward once more. "Now, are you going to talk or not?"
"I already told you," Albania growled. "I don't know anything."
"And I don't believe you." Germany punched Albania in the ribs. "Who kidnaped Poland and Italy?" he snarled.
"I don't know!" Albania coughed. "Some people came up and asked me some questions. That's all, I swear!"
"What kind of questions?" A flicker of new light danced in Germany's eyes.
"Just questions," Albania insisted.
"If you do not tell me what the questions were, I will go get Turkey," Germany threatened.
"Alright! Alright!" Albania said hurriedly. "They wanted to know who was weak and who was strong. Where you guys lived. What you liked to do. Who got along with who. Just the normal stuff!"
"That's not normal!" Germany roared. "How could you tell them?"
"The money was good," Albania snapped. "Would you turn down good money? All I had to do was some spying and report back to them."
"I would turn that money down," Germany said, grabbing Albania by the throat. "Your answers cost me my fiancée."
"Why would you care about Poland?" Albania sneered, ignoring the imminent danger. "If you ask me, she's the most pathetic country out there."
"You do not understand." Germanys squeezed his fingers ever so slightly. "What kind of person could ever love you? You lie. You cheat. You would most likely sell them into human trafficking if someone asked you to."
"I know where they live," Albania wheezed, struggling against Germany. "I know where the people live!"
Germany released his grip. "Where?" he demanded.
Albania coughed and rubbed his sore throat. "You may want to get a pen and paper."
o)O(o
Denmark thrashed against the hand holding his under water. He had gone outside to search for Italy and then next thing he knew someone had tackled him. They had even gone so far as to shove his upper body under the water and pin it there.
A knee dug into Denmark's body, effectively stopping his struggling. A hand shoved Denmark's head farther under the water. Denmark grabbed the wrist of the hand holding his head, trying to yank free of it but it useless.
Another hand snuck down and squeezed Denmark's throat, constricting his airways. Denmark's thrashing picked up. He began to shake as black dots swam before his eyes. He could feel his consciousness slowly ebbing away.
The hand suddenly released his throat and Denmark inhaled water when he instinctively breathed in. Denmark's eyes widened as he felt the water rushing into his lungs. All hope lost, Denmark fell still. He could care less what his attacker would do next.
Denmark's body was dragged back out of the water and dumped on land. There was a snickering above him
"Yer weak fer a former empire."
Denmark froze at the voice. He tried to respond but all he could make out was garbling noises.
"What's wrong?" the other Denmark chortled. "Water in yer lungs?"
Denmark struggled to stay awake and tried to drag himself away from his doppelganger. The doppelganger only stood and followed the nation's progress.
"Why did ya marry that thing?" the doppelganger asked. "She's pretty useless if ya ask me. Unless ya keep her in water all the time."
Denmark froze, a gargling growl growing in his throat. He weakly lashed out at 'Denmark', grabbing his leg and trying to trip him.
"How long do ya think she would last in below freezing waters?" the doppelganger asked curiously. He kicked Denmark in the head, knocking the nation aside. Denmark fell limp again. His head spun from the kick.
"I'm curious now," 'Denmark' continued as he rubbed his chin. "We're going ta kill ya anyway. I'm sure Roma wouldn't if I killed her."
Denmark froze, his eyes widening.
"Hvad?" 'Denmark' grinned. "Ya didn't know we're going ta kill ya? Not after I tried ta drown ya?"
"Nej," Denmark managed to choke out. "Ya can't."
"Ya'll find I can." The doppelganger knelt down and dragged Denmark up by the hair. "I'll just take yer place anyway." He dragged Denmark to the seaside.
"Nej." Denmark struggled weakly, trying to get the doppelganger to let him go. "Ya can't kill us."
"I can." The doppelganger held Denmark over the water. "And I will." He shoved Denmark under the water, planting a boot on the nation's back to pin him down.
Denmark struggled the best he could, trying not to breathe in water in his attempts to break free. The boot increased in pressure and a hand wrenched Denmark's head back by the hair. The move caused Denmark to open his mouth under the water. Denmark closed his eyes tightly when water flooded his lungs once more. His thrashing weakened until he could fight no more.
Even when Denmark stilled, the boot didn't move. Denmark could feel shaking through the leather, as though the doppelganger was laughing. Giving in, Denmark took another breath of water. His body struggled to deal with the onslaught of liquid.
A silver fish darted past Denmark, its tail tickling the nation's cheek as it darted away. The silver scales dancing in the light reminding Denmark of his wife. He loved to sit and the poolside and watch his wife swim. There was something about watching her glide through the water he adored.
A hand reached down and dragged Denmark out of both the water and his thoughts.
"I'll say it again," Denmark's doppelganger said as he dumped the nation on solid land. "Yer weak."
Denmark didn't respond. He could only lay limp on the ground as his body slowly gave in to the lack of oxygen in his lungs. With so much water filling them, his lungs could barely take in the oxygen he needed.
"Damn, I never knew I was dripping with good looks," 'Denmark' chortled. He knelt down and turned Denmark's face to the side. Denmark stared blankly ahead of himself.
"What?" The doppelganger slapped him across the cheek. "No response fer yer pal Danmark? Ya didn't die, did ya?"
"Hn." Denmark coughed when the water in his lungs was agitated.
"Why don't ya let me help ya with that?" Danmark pressed down on Denmark's back and water rushed from the nation's lungs. Denmark wheezed, struggling to both breathe and escape Danmark's harsh treatment.
"Ya sure do like ta fight," Danmark chortled. He pressed down once more until Denmark's lungs were clear. "Better?"
Denmark coughed, trying to clear the last of the water from his lungs. "Bastard," he wheezed.
"It takes one ta know one," Danmark pointed out. Leaning down, he threw Denmark over his shoulder and stood.
"Nej." Denmark weakly struck Danmark on the back with a fist. "Ya can't take me."
"Don't try ta tell me what ta do," Danmark sneered. "By the way, how's yer little wife in bed? I haven't had a good time in too long."
Denmark froze for a minute before he picked up struggling, trying to break free and kill his captor.
"Leave her alone!"
"Every move ya make just makes we want ta take her more," Danmark said. He stopped at a black van and threw the back down open. Denmark was tossed to the floor like a bag of potatoes. "No one will bother stopping me."
Denmark glared up from the floor of the van. "Nej!"
"Ja." Danmark grabbed some rope and bound Denmark's ankles and wrists together. "And ya will be helpless ta stop me. Maybe I should even make ya watch." He grinned at the idea.
Denmark's eyes widened once more and he lunged forward to sink his teeth into Danmark's neck.
"Nej!"
"Gah!" Danmark beat Denmark in the side of the head. "Just fer that, yer going ta watch yer fishwife freeze ta death!"
"Danmark!" a voice called from inside the van.
"Hvad?" Danmark glared up at the front seat.
"You are not to attempt killing Veneziano." Zhōngguó poked his head out the window and scowled at Danmark. "Do you remember what we talked about, aru?"
"Fine," Danmark snapped. "I'll just torture this guy instead." He shoved Denmark to the floor before slamming the doors behind him. Moving to the front of the van, he slid into the driver's seat.
"Do remember," Zhōngguó snapped. "If we kill the nation we may kill ourselves in the process, aru."
"Fine," Danmark snarled again. He shifted the van into gear. "I'm killing him the first chance I get, though."
"Whatever." Zhōngguó shrugged. "Just drive, aru."
"Don't tell me what ta do!" Danmark very nearly floored it and the car lurched forward at an astonishing speed.
o)O(o
Bosnia and Herzegovina studied herself in the mirror and scowled. Grabbing the comb, she quickly adjusted her hair before pulling her leather jacket on. The nations hadn't thought twice about her, all too happy to call her a 'him'. It must have been her short hair and her outfit: a leather jacket, faded jeans, and military boots. Anyone would have mistaken Bosnia for a boy.
There was a tentative knock on the nation's bedroom door.
"Tko je to? (Who is it?)" Bosnia snapped. She had long forgotten when her voice had been soft. Now she used her deep, gravelly 'male' tone.
"It's America," a muffled voice called through the wood. "Can I come in?"
Bosnia hesitated before scowling. "Da."
The door opened and America slipped in, shutting the door behind himself. His blue eyes appraised the 'male' nation before him.
"Why do you do it?" the North American nation suddenly asked.
"Do what?" Bosnia folded her arms over her chest and quirked an eyebrow at America.
"Cross-dress," America explained. "Why do you do it?"
"What do you mean 'cross-dress'?" Bosnia made a face. "I don't see anyone cross-dressing, you bastard."
"I heard Russia say you were a girl," America said, rocking back on his heels. "I don't have anything against it. Colorado's a tomboy because she doesn't want to be held back by society's standards of women."
"Russia said what?" Bosnia squawked. "To kopile! (That bastard!)"
"Ukraine asked if you weren't a girl." America scratched the back of his head. "Russia said you were. He was smiling when he said it too. I think he finds it kind of funny."
"Of course he does," Bosnia snorted. "He would, after all. He loved playing dress up."
"Look, I don't meant to intrude. I was just curious." America looked around the room in a curious manner. "Turkey said if I tried to stop Germany one more time he was going to hang me upside down in the basement. Slovakia even went to get the chains."
"Are you looking for somewhere to hide?" Bosnia snorted. "Because I can tell you right now, it's not here."
"Sorry." America stiffened in a soldierly manner, chuckling nervously. "Force of habit."
"Whatever." Bosnia turned back to the mirror and began to fix her hair again. "Is there anything else you wanted, bastard?"
"I just wanted to know why you dressed up like a guy." America shrugged.
"Why do I dress like a guy?" Bosnia repeated with a sigh and planted her hands on her hips, staring up at the ceiling. "Do you know history at all?"
"Of course I do!" America crossed his arms and pouted. "I just . . . got caught up in my own. It's tough to figure it out when you're the melting pot of the world."
"Then you should know mine," Bosnia snapped.
"Give me a minute." America closed his eyes and massaged his temples. "I don't have it memorized. I have to channel any Bosnian-Americas." He was silent for several minutes before lighting up.
"Did you find anything?" Bosnia crossed her arms and tapped a foot impatiently. "Because I highly doubt you'll figure it out."
America raised a finger, looking for a moment as if he had the answer. "I got nothing," he said.
"I thought so," Bosnia scoffed and marched up to America. "I was conquered by Austria, Italy, Slovenia, and Turkey." She stabbed him in the chest with each name. "And do you know what they all have in common?"
"They're all . . . Europeans?" America guessed weakly.
"They're all boys," Bosnia snapped. "And they all conquered me. After Russia, I learned if I lied about who I was, then I wasn't bothered by anyone. They wouldn't try to conquer me again."
"I-I guess that makes sense." America's hand searched for the doorknob. He'd rather go head to head with Turkey than Bosnia.
The door was suddenly ripped open and America stumbled into a broad chest.
"Merhaba, America." Turkey grinned down at the younger nation. "Were ya goin' somewhere?"
"You're not seriously going to do it, are you?" America asked weakly, backing away Turkey. "I thought you were kidding!"
"I wasn't," Turkey growled, grabbing America's arm. "Besides, Germany called a meetin'. He wanted everyone ta come." He glanced up at Bosnia who just rolled her eyes and gave him the finger.
"So . . . no hanging from ankles?" America asked hopefully.
"Unfortunately not," Turkey growled and began to drag America down the hallway. "That means ya too, Bosnia!"
"Odjebi!" Bosnia shouted back.
"Ow! Ow! Ow!" America stumbled after Turkey. "What's got you in such a bad mood?"
"Greece is missin'," Turkey snarled. "And on of my former nations from the Ottoman Empire just decided ta show up on the doorstep. Not ta mention Albania dared ta even show his face around here."
"Alright. Alright," America sighed. "Geez, all you Europeans are the same. You're easily pissed off and annoying to deal with when you're mad."
"What do ya mean by that?" Turkey stopped in the middle of the hallway and rounded on America.
"Is this going to get me hung up by my ankles?" America tugged at his wrist.
"Would ya shut up about that?" Turkey growled.
"Only if you swear not to do it," America said.
"Fine, I swear I won't hang ya by yer ankles," Turkey snapped. "Now what do ya mean by that?"
"Well." America held up one finger. "You all get pissed off too easily." Another finger. "You blame everyone else when you're mad for getting you mad." Another finger. "You yell at people and say you're not mad." Another finger. "And you hold grudges for a ridiculously long time."
Turkey crossed his arms and scowled down at America. "Would ya like ta learn a bit about Albania?"
"What about him?" America asked with a note of curiosity in his voice.
"He knew where ya were durin' World War Two," Turkey said. "He helped hide Poland from Germany then turned her in. He was the one who talked all of us inta lettin' Russia take Prussia fer part of the Soviet Union. He traded secretes between the Allies and Axis fer money." Turkey forward until his eyes were level with America's. "Who do ya think talked yer president inta droppin' the bomb on Japan?"
America gaped at Turkey before his mouth slowly closed.
"What do ya think of that?" Turkey asked, straightening up.
"How could he do that?" America croaked. "I-If he had told someone . . . then Canada could see out of his right eye."
"Evet, well." Turkey shrugged. "He talked Japan inta bombin' Hawaii."
"I . . . have to find someone." America hurried down the hall toward the meeting hall. He had a code that he stuck to like glue. Need attention? Been told bad information? Looking for a shoulder to cry on? Go to the wife.
Morocco looked up from where she was trying to use a computer. Unfortunately, Estonia's five minute tutorial was not helping. America fell into the chair beside his wife and propped his chin on her shoulder.
"Will you pet my hair and tell me how good of a nation I am?" America asked in a voice bordering on mopey.
"Oh, Sweetheart." Morocco moved her chair back and kissed America's forehead, stroking his head softly. "Did Turkey tell you?"
"Yes," America whispered. "How could someone be so cruel?"
Vietnam glared over her shoulder from where she was playing with her own computer.
"No one knows," Morocco said softly. "Albania has had a hand in many events. The beginning of slavery, the conquering of many nations, the finding of new land. All of it. I believe he gets a thrill out of it."
"He's a bastard." America buried his face in Morocco's neck. "He's never coming on my land if I can help it. He'd probably sell the kids off or something."
"This is why I kept him away," Morocco sighed. "Because I knew just what he could do. There is something else about him."
"What?" America's voice was muffled by Morocco's jacket.
"Albania is not wanted in Africa or a few dozen other countries," Morocco said softly. "If he were to be caught they would try to kill him."
"Good riddance."
o)O(o
Germany stood before over fifty nations. All looked worried and some even looked ready to go into hiding. Only Slovakia's hand kept Czech in her seat. Albania had grudgingly given up the location of seven houses. All, he claimed, were the homes of the people he had spoken to.
Germany cleared his throat and Romano almost instantly stopped his bickering with Scotland. The two nations turned their back on each other, both fuming. Ireland had gone missing and Romano had told Scotland to suck it up.
The missing had been tallied and written on a white board. Belarus, Poland, Italy, Greece, Prussia, South, Ireland, and Sweden. Denmark hadn't returned yet so Germany had written him in a column labeled MIA, Missing in Action. China had his own column: location unknown.
America was still sulking beside Morocco and refused to even look at Albania. The nation so many hated had been handcuffed tightly to a chair. Albania was attempting to not look at any nations around him.
"Albania was kind enough to give us the location of seven houses," Germany said, clasping his hands behind his back.
Albania muttered something under his breath while the nations began to get excited.
"Will we be able to find Su-san in one of them?" Finland asked hopefully.
"I don't know," Germany said stiffly. "Albania was rather vague on that information. But we have enough to investigate these houses. I have separated you into seven teams. Each team is acquitted with an able-bodied warrior so that we will not have a repeat of Iceland and the realms."
"I am curious." Morocco raised her hand, studying the sheet of paper she was holding.
"Yes, Morocco?" Germany asked.
"I see that you are keeping me here," Morocco pointed out. "I am not what my dear husband calls 'techie piratey'."
"It's 'tech savvy'," America corrected his wife.
"Oh." Morocco turned back to Germany. "Yes, I am not tech savvy."
"But you can fight," Germany pointed out. "You will remain at base in case something happens. We will all be equipped with headsets connected to a computer Estonia has been kind enough to set up. This way we can all remain in touch in case something happens."
Several nations nodded while Netherlands scowled at the list.
"Something wrong, Netherlands?" Germany sighed.
"Why can't I be with Mexico?" Netherlands demanded. "Or Belgium?"
"And why I am stuck with Mexico?" America called.
Germany groaned and massaged his temples. "I did not take your personal lives into account when I made this list up," he said. "There will be no switching groups. This is where you are assigned and this is where you will remain."
"What about him?" Scotland jerked his head at Albania. Germany glared at the handcuffed nation before answering.
"He will be handcuffed to another nation," Germany said.
"Çfarë?" Albania yelped. "I already told you what you wanted to know! Why can't you just let me go?"
"You'll just run off and steal again," England huffed, crossing her arms.
"Ja, and I want to keep you around." Germany scanned the crowd for a nation before his eyes zeroed in on the perfect one. "Vietnam will do."
"Gì?" Vietnam glared up at Germany. "I already spent enough time with that bastard. I don't want to be near him anymore."
"You are the best nation tow watch him while keeping an eye on your surroundings at eh same time," Germany said. "Prepare to leave tomorrow morning at sunrise."
"Is she going to hit me again?" Albania watched Vietnam carefully. "She is hot, but I'm not really into girls who like to whack their guys around."
"I am going to kill him!" Vietnam grabbed her rice paddle but Japan snatched it from her.
"Both of you will shut up," Germany growled. Marching over, he unlocked Albania's wrists. "Vietnam, come here." Vietnam obeyed, muttering under breath. Germany used one set of handcuffs to lock Vietnam's left arm with Albania's right.
"If you grope me, you are dead," Vietnam hissed at Albania.
"Sorry to disappoint you, sweetheart," Albania drawled in a bored tone. "But I don't grope, that's Korea's job."
"What?" Korea looked up at his name. He looked to Norway worriedly. "What did he say, da-ze?"
"If I may ask something of you, Germany?" Norway raised her hand with an annoyed look on her face.
"Ja, Norway?" Germany asked, the stress evident in his voice.
"I would like to put this to a vote. Everyone!" Norway raised her voice. "Who would like to gag Albania?"
"Çfarë?" Albania yelped. "Why do you all want to kill me?"
Nearly every nation raised their hand, even Germany. Vietnam raised her left hand, dragging Albania's right hand up. Canada was the only nation who hadn't raised his hand.
"Then it's decided." Norway left and returned with a strip of clothing. Handing it to Germany, she left to console her husband as to why Albania was not trying to start another war.
Germany tied the gag tightly in Albania's mouth. "That should keep you alive for another day," he said. Vietnam glared at Albania from the corner of her eye. Albania made garbled noises and motioned a rude hand gesture at Germany and several other nations.
"Knock that off," Vietnam snapped, smacking Albania's hand down. "Or I'll kill you in your sleep." Albania froze, his eyes wide.
Germany leaned down to whisper in Albania's ear. "She doesn't like anyone," he said in a low voice. "And America's terrified of her. Have fun." And with that, he left the handcuffed pair alone.
Vietnam crossed her arms, dragging Albania's hand with her. Albania eyed Vietnam warily while tugging on his captive arm.
"Annoy me, grope me, or steal from me and I will introduce you to my rice paddle," Vietnam threatened.
Albania glanced at the surrounding nations before he attempted to step away from Vietnam.
'Mut.'
A/N: What did you think?
Remember, at least five answers and anyone who answered gets a request for the story. If you forgot the question, here it is again: who did you used to hate (but now love because we right it) and why?
Right, I kept forgetting to put this in there. You might have noticed that we have been using wars as the chapters' names. I meant to give a bit more information on them.
.
Vietnam War - (1955 – 1975) America and Allies vs. Vietnam (Vietcong)
Casualties: 1,102,000–3,886,026
Outcome: North Vietnamese (Vietcong) victory. America backed out of the war. Vietnam became communist. South Vietnam was annexed by North Vietnam.
The reason why Vietnam doesn't like other nations. Due to the US bombing and defoliant spray, Vietnam's landscape has been scarred.
Korean War – (1950 – 1953) America/South Korea/UN vs. North Korea/ China/Soviet Union
Casualties: exact unknown, more than three million
Outcome: Korea split into North and South Korea and the DMZ was formed. North Korea becomes communist.
French Indochina War – (1946 – 1954) France vs. Vietnam
Casualties: exact unknown, more than 800,000
Outcome: the formation of North and South Vietnam. France is forced out of Indochina.