A/N: Just to show I haven't been NOT thinking of my Hetalia stuff. In fact, with the worldwide recession worsening, new plots have been popping up left and right. Anyway, these two are my fails. The first one was supposed to be ch. 4, but I've decided to go in another direction. The second tale is a certain oddness I might return to later. We'll see. Enjoy.

Fandom: Hetalia

Warnings: Shonen-Ai, Possible OOC, Cursing, Mentioned Mpreg (In first one only.)

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in these fan fictions. In certain cases incidents, characters and timelines have been changed for dramatic purposes. Certain characters may be composites, or entirely fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Failed Endeavors - Hetalia


(Rejected) Changes - France x England (Part IV)

A/N: Arthur's Musketeer memories are placed after the war with France ended in 1629. He had Civil War, Cromwell, Plague, Fire and the raising of Baby America. France was being drained dry by his king's spending, and constant wars, but he had Baby Canada. Baby Canada makes everything better! Cymry is another name for Wales.

Pairings: France-Francis/England-Arthur, America-Alfred/Canada-Matthew

Once a year, Prussia called on all his bosom friends to save his hide and contribute their various 'talents' to the Annual Teutonic Knights Gathering given by the Catholic Church. Actually, he would "I'm not poking you…" his totally awesome spouse, Austria, into doing all the phone calls, while his Awesomeness would spend the time scanning various Cosplay sites searching for the perfect dress/outfit to force Roderich into for The Cause.

Dressed up in full costume, France executed an artful turn, ending the move with a flourish. "How do I look?"

England frowned from the bed. "Quit with the flash. You look smashing and damn well know it. Well? Off with you! Time to parade in front of the pathetic gaggle of clerics and nuns. Leave me all alone and dangerously pregnant with your child."

Francis sat down on the bed and took hold of fidgeting hands. "You are not alone. Matthieu is downstairs. Why is my Angleterre upset?"

Arthur added a stuck-out lower lip to go with the frown. "I understand this is a special request, and you only go through this debacle every year for Gilbert, but you are MY Musketeer. That blasted organization has no idea what memories this outfit brings up."

France leaned in to bestow a lick and kiss to the delicious quibbling lip. "Very good ones. If you were able to conceive back then, Alfred and Matthieu would have been deluged with siblings."

England shook his head. "Thank God I couldn't. As a nation, Matthew is a true anomaly. This pirate would have definitely brought up a gang of Alfreds. Think of the horror."

Chuckling, Francis drew his spouse in for a cuddle. "Nonsense. Only blessings can come from the soft body of my love."

Arthur wiggled in place. "Oi! Calling me fat? I will have you know this is all your baby!"

France's hands moved down for a quick squeeze of English rump. "Not here. I do not think."

Arthur's fist reared back. "My apologies, Rose. Daddy must kill Papa ahead of schedule!"

As usual, Canada arrived in time to save his Papa's hide. "Sorry to interrupt, but the taxi's waiting."

Arthur gripped the blue tabard encasing his mate with both hands. "Don't leave."

France laid kisses along a pale face, while leather gauntlets gently unclenched tight fists. "If our Rose is to grow, you must rest. I shall be back before you can miss me."

Arthur dropped his hands to the bed. His next words barely spoken above a whisper. "I miss you already. Damn you for making me admit it."

Francis performed a courtly bow. Yearning eyes never leaving his mate's anguished face. "Rest. I will return soon. I promise you."

Arthur continued to claw the bed sheets long after the taxi drove off. "How the fuck can I rest? I can't sleep without your body next to mine. Fucking twat. Fuck!"

Deciding he had heard enough, Canada caught one of his father's hands. "Dad, you have to stop. You're upsetting the baby."

England gasped, realizing the baby was indeed squirming and kicking inside. He hastily placed his other hand over his belly. "I'm sorry. So sorry. Please calm down. You're not ready yet. Oh fuck. I'm not ready yet."

Matthew covered his father's hand with his own and began to hum an old lullaby learned from Wales. "Uncle Cymry believed this song would come in handy. Didn't think I would need it this soon, though."

Sensing the baby fall asleep, Arthur breathed a sigh of relief.

Canada kept on humming, while adding a small pulse of energy to the connection.

With the baby safe and slumbering, England's thoughts returned to France and France's lust-inducing outfit. "Matthew? How much energy would need to be relayed so Papa and I can have hard sex for a day or so without placing Rose in danger?"

Canada choked on his tongue. It took several hard slaps to the back to dislodge it. "Nightmare. Cough! Hack! Has to be a nightmare. Kumajirou, wake me up."

The little polar bear glanced up from his playing spot on the floor. "Who?"

England shook Canada's shoulder. "If it wasn't urgent, I wouldn't ask. Papa and I haven't been together since your sister was conceived. I need this. Your Papa and I both do."

Matthew sighed and thought for a long moment. "The process should take about half-an-hour, but we have to wait until Alfred's asleep or he'll notice for sure."

Arthur embraced the blushing nation tight. "Thank you, Son."

Canada mumbled into England's shoulder. "Don't mention it. Really. Ever again. For my sanity. Please."


(Rejected) Nothing We Can't Reach

A/N: Just some Crack for my own amusement. Compared to most of the other nations/countries, Canada and USA are really young, especially to Russia, Ukraine, and China.

Pairings: Russia-Ivan/Canada-Matthew, Established France-Francis/England-Arthur, Maybe (?) America-Alfred/China-Yao

Summary: Russia sat on Canada and found his future better (saner) half. Maple!


Ever since the last World Meeting, when Russia discovered a half-crushed Canada sitting underneath him, the large country felt plagued with a distinct chest ache.

Since he no longer had the Baltic States or Prussia to help relieve the angst, the big man turned to the one person he could always count on.

Swiveling in his office chair, Ivan picked up the phone and called his big sister.

A concerned Ukraine turned towards the special phone with a direct line to Russia. The big-breasted woman picked up the receiver with a sigh. "Whatever troubles you shall pass, my brother."

Ivan leaned forward with a hand clenching the front of his sweater. "I do not think so, Katyusha. The pain in my chest bites and burns. I cannot concentrate on work. My thoughts are filled with the sweet one."

Ukraine brought a hand to her mouth. She never heard her brother sound so besotted. The unknown's chosen nickname gave the country a small idea who it could be. "Sweet one? Hair of gold with eyes of laughter?"

Russia bounced with excitement. "Da! Da! Last meeting I smoosh him a little, but he forgave. I think he will always forgive. You think so, Sister?"

Ukraine tilted her head. "If anyone can, it would be Canada. His full name is Matthew Williams, not 'Sweet One.' You must remember this, Ivan. His utmost wish is to be taken seriously."

Ivan laid his head sideways on the desk. Violet eyes peering into the fire across the way. "Matthew. Sweet forgiving Matthew. Sister knows Sweet One well?"

Ukraine shook her head, recognizing when to give up. "Yes. Many of my people migrated to his land. The boy smells sweet because of the natural tree sap, called maple syrup, which his country exports around the world."

Russia clawed at his chest with irritation. "Something else about his smell, Ukraine. Something I have not smelled in a long time."

The distressed nation covered her eyes. It was a confidence she swore never to tell, but to leave her brother in this state would lead the World to ruin. "You wouldn't, Ivan, for the young one is untouched."

Ivan stood up, knocking his chair backwards to the floor. "Virgin? Ah, such is fate, my sister! Sweet One is meant for Russia!"

Ukraine pleaded into the phone. "Brother, do not attempt to make Canada one with you. The boy is quiet, but he is as strong as his brother. Also, England and France will be against the joining. They will tell Matthew all the wrongs you have committed."

Ivan clenched a determined fist. "I am ready. So the Sweet One is special to weak parents and idiot brother? I will propose the old way. The elders will understand. The process must be honored. Russia will not fail."

Ukraine dropped into a nearby chair. "Times have changed, my brother. I am not sure the old ways will work."

Russia slammed his palm onto the desk. "The alliance must take place! Canada quiets the rage inside."

Amazed, Ukraine rested a hand on top of her prized bosom. "No wonder the parents taught the boy to hide so well. Truly a precious find."

Ivan nodded. "Do not worry. Although we marry, Canada will remain Canada. This I swear."

Katyusha sat back. Eyes closed with relief. She was the one person, besides Belarus, who could tell when Russia was lying. "Take China with you to the proposal meeting."

The odd request brought Ivan up short. "Why?"

Ukraine toyed with the chopped ends of her hair. "I am not sure if America does not remember or care about the old ways, but the young one will surely be a disruption. Yao will keep Alfred in line."

Russia's grin would have frightened Latvia to death if he could see it. "My thanks, Big Sister."

Ukraine waved a dismissive hand in the air. "Treat the Sweet One well, Ivan. This is all I ask in return. To abuse such a gift from God will only bring more bad luck to our houses. Of this I am sure."