Family Ties [Part 92]
Oct. 19th, 2010 12:52 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
hellzabethTitle: Family Ties
Characters (in this chapter): Wales, Belarus, Prussia, England, Scotland, France, India and Ireland.
Rating: 15
Warnings: idefk another filler chapter I guess?
Summary: Uh, I need to be banned from the kink meme or monsters like this happen? Essentially, Scotland leaves the UK, which gives Northern Ireland an excuse to up and out as well, which leaves England and Wales all alone. Oh yeah, and this somehow leads to World War Three.
Wales walked around the house, holding the still crying Belarus' hand and leading her along. He couldn't find Prussia, and it was somewhat worse that he had no idea how to navigate Germany's house at all. It was quite a different layout to his own and England's, old with many staircases that seemed to lead somewhere but really only ended up in a study or a dusty cupboard or even the lost in one instance. The little Slavic Nation scrubbed at her eyes and hiccuped, but couldn't seem to stop crying.
"Prussia!" Wales called, looking into the kitchen for the third time, in case he turned up there. "Prussia? Gilbert? Hullo?"
The house was very empty, oddly quiet. It was nearly disturbing; with the absence of the loud albino Nation the whole place seemed dead.
"Gilbert!" he tried again, growing frustrated and worried. "Bela's crying!"
There was an abrupt snapping sound from upstairs, followed by a thud. From the staircase leading upstairs, a flash of white light, like a camera had gone off, lit up the stairwell. Warily, Darren and Natalia ascended the stairs. The hallway landing was similarly deserted, but at the end one of the doors was ajar. The floor squeaked a little with their steps, but remained firm.
"Gilber-"
A head of white hair appeared from around the doorframe, and it took a few moments for Wales to distinguish the white feathers he was covered in from the rest of his hair.
"Hey Kinder, I told you guys to stay downstairs." he said grumpily, plucking the feathers from his hair. Then he noticed Belarus' tear-streaked face. "Oh come on, Bela, don't start getting weepy." he picked her up and sat her on his hip with a resigned look about him. He reached back behind the door and grabbed a plushie. Upon closer inspection, it appeared to be a sunflower with a smiley face, two leaves for arms and roots for legs. "Here you go, stop crying now, alright?"
Belarus buried her face in the plushie, the sunflower petals obscuring her face.
"Why's she crying?" Wales asked, confused as to what had started all this. Prussia shrugged one shoulder.
"Dunno, something probably happened to Russia." he looked down at her, seeming annoyed. "Though it's probably not anything fatal or whatever, or I'd never calm her down. Can't decide if I'm glad she's not crying so hard or if I'm pissed that Russia's not dead."
A tiny fist hit Gilbert on the chest, wielding the blunter end of the plastic knife. How long had she...
"Ah, I only get a warning stab. Guess you're warming up to me, huh kid?"
She switched her hold on the knife, hovering threateningly.
"Or... not." Prussia half smiled, closing the door behind him but leaving an inch of space. Wales couldn't see much in there, just that it seemed quite white. Gilbert stepped forward, landing a hand on Wales' head and turning him around. "Alright, quick march back downstairs. Ein-zwo-drei, ein-zwo-drei."
"What was back there?" Darren asked, looking over his shoulder back at the door as best he could with the taller Nation's hand on his head.
"I swear you did not ask this many questions when you were big." the albino grumbled. "It's something delicate, not for your little kiddy hands to mess with, got it?"
"You keep forgetting I'm older than you." Wales reminded him, frowning and folding his arms. His statement was somewhat blunted by the fact he jumped the last two steps on the stairs. "And why do they let you of all people touch the sensitive, delicate stuff."
"Shut yer yap, if it weren't for me you wouldn't even be here."
"Please forgive me oh great and powerful one." Wales droned flatly.
The hand on the back of his head became a clip around the ear. "Ow!"
"Cheeky brat."
---
"England, for god's sake sit yer arse down." Scotland grumbled as his younger and phenomenally more stupid brother attempted to get up from his bed to go after Portugal, who was long gone. "Yer not goin' nowhere in that state."
"I've got to stop him." the blonde grunted in reply, trying to swing his legs over the side of the bed. One of them was perfectly healthy, but the other was an angry and unhealed red. Nations healed faster than humans, but not that fast. "If he tries to kill Russia and knock sense into America by himself, he'll be slaughtered!"
"And you won't?" France added, receiving a death glare for his troubles.
"I'll press the bell tae call the nurses, Artie, don't think I won't." the broader man threatened, holding up the little button. England turned the glare on him.
"You won't." he growled.
"I won't?" Scotland smirked.
"He won't." France said suddenly, a small smirk appearing. Both siblings looked at him, perplexed. "Open your ears."
They listened.
Distantly, there was a clatter of feet, raised voices. Then, a rhythmic clicking sound, coming closer, "clack-clack-clack-clack". Fear rose in England's stomach, but he couldn't get back into bed before the oncoming storm exploded through the doors.
India's expression was alive with every kind of emotion; anger, worry, elation, sadness, cycling through again and again and mixing confusingly. England stared frozen at her.
"Er." he managed. But that only set her off.
"Back into bed! In, in, in!" she descended upon him, wrapping him up in his blankets and babbling at him about what a stupid idea it was to be getting up in this state. "What on earth would motivate you to get up when half your body is next to useless? Don't answer that, half your brain has turned to mush by now. And you!" Dark hair whipped about as she whirled on Scotland, who raised his hands in defense. "Don't you get any ideas! Now point me in Ireland's direction and the both of you behave until Sarah gets here to keep an eye on you!"
France helpfully pointed at Ireland's curtained bed in the corner. Helpfully and silently.
"Thank you." India said curtly, bracelets jangling as she walked to the end of the room, perhaps muttering "kids these days" or something to that effect.
Scotland waited until she was talking to Ireland about something, before asking lowly. "Are you going to tell her about Portugal or am I gonna bite the bullet fer ye." A pause, and he added. "Ye big girl's blouse."
Notes:
- /revives internet LIIIIIVE
- Behold! Why Bela was crying! And... is still crying shush I know my chronology is bouncing about a bit here.
- German notes: Kinder - "children" or "kids", Ein, zwo, drei - one, two, three. You might be wondering why the zwo isn't zwei, but as I have been informed by![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
tuulensisko that when marching, Germans count with zwo for two in order to make it easier to tell the different between 1 and 2, since when you're marching on a battlefield you can't really hear very well. For more info, scroll down to the comments.
- I'm sorry I've not been replying to comments recently, with real life eating me up and then the internet being all patchy it never seems to happen. But I'll always find a way to read them, your feedback means so much to me! Thanks for continuing to put up with me!
Part 93
Characters (in this chapter): Wales, Belarus, Prussia, England, Scotland, France, India and Ireland.
Rating: 15
Warnings: idefk another filler chapter I guess?
Summary: Uh, I need to be banned from the kink meme or monsters like this happen? Essentially, Scotland leaves the UK, which gives Northern Ireland an excuse to up and out as well, which leaves England and Wales all alone. Oh yeah, and this somehow leads to World War Three.
Wales walked around the house, holding the still crying Belarus' hand and leading her along. He couldn't find Prussia, and it was somewhat worse that he had no idea how to navigate Germany's house at all. It was quite a different layout to his own and England's, old with many staircases that seemed to lead somewhere but really only ended up in a study or a dusty cupboard or even the lost in one instance. The little Slavic Nation scrubbed at her eyes and hiccuped, but couldn't seem to stop crying.
"Prussia!" Wales called, looking into the kitchen for the third time, in case he turned up there. "Prussia? Gilbert? Hullo?"
The house was very empty, oddly quiet. It was nearly disturbing; with the absence of the loud albino Nation the whole place seemed dead.
"Gilbert!" he tried again, growing frustrated and worried. "Bela's crying!"
There was an abrupt snapping sound from upstairs, followed by a thud. From the staircase leading upstairs, a flash of white light, like a camera had gone off, lit up the stairwell. Warily, Darren and Natalia ascended the stairs. The hallway landing was similarly deserted, but at the end one of the doors was ajar. The floor squeaked a little with their steps, but remained firm.
"Gilber-"
A head of white hair appeared from around the doorframe, and it took a few moments for Wales to distinguish the white feathers he was covered in from the rest of his hair.
"Hey Kinder, I told you guys to stay downstairs." he said grumpily, plucking the feathers from his hair. Then he noticed Belarus' tear-streaked face. "Oh come on, Bela, don't start getting weepy." he picked her up and sat her on his hip with a resigned look about him. He reached back behind the door and grabbed a plushie. Upon closer inspection, it appeared to be a sunflower with a smiley face, two leaves for arms and roots for legs. "Here you go, stop crying now, alright?"
Belarus buried her face in the plushie, the sunflower petals obscuring her face.
"Why's she crying?" Wales asked, confused as to what had started all this. Prussia shrugged one shoulder.
"Dunno, something probably happened to Russia." he looked down at her, seeming annoyed. "Though it's probably not anything fatal or whatever, or I'd never calm her down. Can't decide if I'm glad she's not crying so hard or if I'm pissed that Russia's not dead."
A tiny fist hit Gilbert on the chest, wielding the blunter end of the plastic knife. How long had she...
"Ah, I only get a warning stab. Guess you're warming up to me, huh kid?"
She switched her hold on the knife, hovering threateningly.
"Or... not." Prussia half smiled, closing the door behind him but leaving an inch of space. Wales couldn't see much in there, just that it seemed quite white. Gilbert stepped forward, landing a hand on Wales' head and turning him around. "Alright, quick march back downstairs. Ein-zwo-drei, ein-zwo-drei."
"What was back there?" Darren asked, looking over his shoulder back at the door as best he could with the taller Nation's hand on his head.
"I swear you did not ask this many questions when you were big." the albino grumbled. "It's something delicate, not for your little kiddy hands to mess with, got it?"
"You keep forgetting I'm older than you." Wales reminded him, frowning and folding his arms. His statement was somewhat blunted by the fact he jumped the last two steps on the stairs. "And why do they let you of all people touch the sensitive, delicate stuff."
"Shut yer yap, if it weren't for me you wouldn't even be here."
"Please forgive me oh great and powerful one." Wales droned flatly.
The hand on the back of his head became a clip around the ear. "Ow!"
"Cheeky brat."
---
"England, for god's sake sit yer arse down." Scotland grumbled as his younger and phenomenally more stupid brother attempted to get up from his bed to go after Portugal, who was long gone. "Yer not goin' nowhere in that state."
"I've got to stop him." the blonde grunted in reply, trying to swing his legs over the side of the bed. One of them was perfectly healthy, but the other was an angry and unhealed red. Nations healed faster than humans, but not that fast. "If he tries to kill Russia and knock sense into America by himself, he'll be slaughtered!"
"And you won't?" France added, receiving a death glare for his troubles.
"I'll press the bell tae call the nurses, Artie, don't think I won't." the broader man threatened, holding up the little button. England turned the glare on him.
"You won't." he growled.
"I won't?" Scotland smirked.
"He won't." France said suddenly, a small smirk appearing. Both siblings looked at him, perplexed. "Open your ears."
They listened.
Distantly, there was a clatter of feet, raised voices. Then, a rhythmic clicking sound, coming closer, "clack-clack-clack-clack". Fear rose in England's stomach, but he couldn't get back into bed before the oncoming storm exploded through the doors.
India's expression was alive with every kind of emotion; anger, worry, elation, sadness, cycling through again and again and mixing confusingly. England stared frozen at her.
"Er." he managed. But that only set her off.
"Back into bed! In, in, in!" she descended upon him, wrapping him up in his blankets and babbling at him about what a stupid idea it was to be getting up in this state. "What on earth would motivate you to get up when half your body is next to useless? Don't answer that, half your brain has turned to mush by now. And you!" Dark hair whipped about as she whirled on Scotland, who raised his hands in defense. "Don't you get any ideas! Now point me in Ireland's direction and the both of you behave until Sarah gets here to keep an eye on you!"
France helpfully pointed at Ireland's curtained bed in the corner. Helpfully and silently.
"Thank you." India said curtly, bracelets jangling as she walked to the end of the room, perhaps muttering "kids these days" or something to that effect.
Scotland waited until she was talking to Ireland about something, before asking lowly. "Are you going to tell her about Portugal or am I gonna bite the bullet fer ye." A pause, and he added. "Ye big girl's blouse."
Notes:
- /revives internet LIIIIIVE
- Behold! Why Bela was crying! And... is still crying shush I know my chronology is bouncing about a bit here.
- German notes: Kinder - "children" or "kids", Ein, zwo, drei - one, two, three. You might be wondering why the zwo isn't zwei, but as I have been informed by
tuulensisko that when marching, Germans count with zwo for two in order to make it easier to tell the different between 1 and 2, since when you're marching on a battlefield you can't really hear very well. For more info, scroll down to the comments.- I'm sorry I've not been replying to comments recently, with real life eating me up and then the internet being all patchy it never seems to happen. But I'll always find a way to read them, your feedback means so much to me! Thanks for continuing to put up with me!
Part 93
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
Woah...
Date: 2010-10-21 12:58 am (UTC)It's just... woah!
I love it so much that it isn't just headcannon, it's canon, but au canon if that makes sense...
I laughed, I cried, I quivered in terror... this story makes me wish it were a book so I could carry it around and make people read it all, because it so good they totally would.
So yeah... I really, really loved it! (Even the parts that made me cry... but you've gotten me so addicted I began to cry when I saw there was no link to a next chapter yet... take your time though, I now the feeling of having sucky internet... anyway, no need to rush! I'm sure every one of your fans will wait patiently for an update...)
Also, did you know you're linked on TV Tropes?
Dude.... totally...
Date: 2010-10-21 08:07 am (UTC)It's kind of like future AU canon if you want to think like that. Canon to this fic and canon irl are two very different things hahaha orz;;
I'm really flattered you think the story is so good. XD I sometimes wish the characters were actual people so I could publish this and pretend to my parents that I'm doing something worthwhile with my time. Heh.
Ahh don't cry! I update mega fast, there'll be a new chapter soon!
And yeah, I knew. I had a total squee fest when I found out. XD