hellzabeth (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
hellzabeth) wrote2010-06-14 12:10 am
hellzabeth) wrote2010-06-14 12:10 am
Entry tags:
Family Ties [Part 51]
Title: Family Ties
Characters (in this chapter): Portugal, Turkey, Germany, Belarus, America.
Rating: 15
Warnings: Violence, more gore, foreign languages.
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.
The ocean was white foam, tossed and broken by torpedoes and mines purposefully and remotely detonated. Portugal had lost three of his fleet, over 400 lives, but they'd steamed onwards, through Turkey's hastily assembled defenses, around mines and boats alike. They hadn't expected there to be back up, last minute re-enforcements arriving from NWO, and soon every ship had another to match it, another to contend with.
Turkey and Portugal's head ships had crashed rather spectacularly into each other, thrown into place by a mine that went off too close to Turkey's side accidentally. Now the railings were locked together, and from the sound of the sirens from Turkey's ship, the whole mess was going to go down, or become a floating pile of scrap metal. The storage cupboard for hand-held personal weapons was flooded, and from the looks of things Turkey's men either hadn't been armed in the first place, or had a similar problem.
It didn't stop the navy sailors from trying to beat the living tar out of each other with their bare hands.
Turkey's haymaker was easily ducked under, the Iberian Nation delivering a blow to his ribs in retaliation. He coughed, slightly winded, but brought up his other fist in an uppercut that snapped Portugal's head back. The two stumbled apart, leaning on the railing as the deck tilted sideways in a dangerous manner.
"Just like old times, eh Jibril?" Turkey grinned, checking himself for broken bones.
Portugal spat blood off to the side. "Sim, just like old times. And just like old times, I'm afraid I'm going to have to kick your ass, Sadiq."
"If you can." The cocky air he exuded contrasted with how beaten up he appeared. There were bruises on him that Portugal hadn't inflicted. Three men in an all-out brawl stumbled past them, one of them falling overboard while the other two didn't notice, hitting the water with a splash.
"I hear Saudi Arabia's pulling out, am I right? Iran too, which means Iraq might not be far behind." The fight resumed without queue, Gabriel lunging forward with fist ready to hit Turkey right on the nose. He wasn't wearing his mask today, so it wouldn't hurt his fist. He needn't have worried though, because the former-empire caught his fist and twisted the arm behind his back.
"Yeah, they're pulling out, why's that your business?" Turkey half-growled in his ear. Throwing his head back, Portugal made his second attempt at breaking his enemy's nose a success. He was released from the other Nation's grip, dancing back again.
"Just want to know what I'm up against when I invade."
Sadiq gave him a bloody smile. "You've not gotten rusty at conquering, have you, false angel."
"Aw, is that concern for me, heathen?" The smirk spread across Portugal's face. "You should save it for someone who needs it."
-----
Planes soared overhead, hundreds of bombs being taken to enemy locations. Germany only prayed his men would get there safely, as well as return home in one piece. He was glad for the dryness of summer, because he remembered how Poland's fields could get during the winter, and he was not one to desire his boots caked in mud that dried as soon as you showed it so much as a glimmer of warmth.
He was, some would say ironically, quite worried about Poland at the moment. He hadn't managed to get any sort of contact with his Boss or with the Nation himself, which meant Russia had a stronger grip already than he'd hoped. Poland was a very strong person, and had endured Russia's torments for many hundreds of years now, but there were moments when it seemed that one more partition would break the already cracked Nation's mind entirely.
There had been a time when he hadn't spoken even Polish like some giddy school girl.
Germany had only decided to take the Eastern Front (and he wished they would stop calling it that as well) instead of Prussia because his brother had insisted on going to try and talk sense into France, which he had much better chance of achieving that Germany ever did. For all the time they spent together in the EU, France very rarely listened. He did his own thing. In the most irritatingly laid back, cocky way possible.
Which was why his brother got on with him so well.
The blonde tried not to sigh too loudly, keeping crouched in the high rye crop. To his left and right, he could hear the soft rustle that was the rest of his men, all armed to the teeth and prepared to fight the NWO invasion. Armed with counter-technology, or rather, the same technology that Russia used. They'd finally cracked the neo-silencers, and had them fully equipped on their guns.
Something ahead of them rumbled. A car. Without need for signal, the German soldiers stopped. Ludwig himself strained his ears to hear.
Voices spoke in Ukrainian. And another in Belorussian, before changing back to Ukrainian. Germany couldn't catch most of it, and his understanding of either language was bare at best, but one word grabbed his attention and held it.
Yadernyy.
Nukes.
He kept an ear open for any thing else, the name of a city or a country, whether they were talking in past tense, about what had already been dropped, or future, about where they would drop one next. Frustration boiled beneath the surface. It might have been less annoying if he had not understood anything at all.
Someone to his left stepped on something that snapped, and instantly bullets flew.
Germany ducked and rolled and scrambled to get a good shot in at the NWO soldiers, the unsettling lack of sound making him feel like he'd gone temporarily deaf. Whizzing metal was the only indication anything was happening at all, as well as swears in either language. Sneaking round to the edge of the field, he waited for the opportune moment, just as one of the NWO went down, to leap out and capture a woman in commander's uniform with long blonde hair.
No sooner as he had placed the gun barrel to the side of her head, there was a very large knife at his own.
Belarus stared up at him, cold and unwelcoming as ever.
"Privyet, Niamieččyna." she greeted him.
Germany kept his cool. He was good at at least that. "Guten Tag, Weißrussland."
The corner of her mouth twisted up into a tiny, mad smile. "I like that name, it is more like bratja's."
"Where is he?" Germany demanded. The point of the knife brushed through his hair. He tightened his finger on the trigger, and the metal clicked ominously.
The smile vanished. "You are a fool to think I would tell you."
"Well, I thought the fact I have a gun to your head would sway that."
A stalemate. A few of Germany's soldiers were checking the life signs of the other soldiers. They gave him the okay sign. All dead, huh. These guns were good.
"I will not betray him." Belarus said firmly. And she wouldn't, Germany knew.
"His plans, then?"
"Even if I knew them, I would not tell you."
This surprised the taller man. "You don't even know why he's doing this? But you're his sister."
"He... does not want to tell them to me. He fears the extent of his own love for me, and so he does not speak." she said, eyes averted sadly. 'Nice to know there's still someone that Russia's terrified of.' thought Germany. Belarus continued. "But I will follow him no matter what. I trust him."
"You could be hurt or killed."
"If it is for bratja, then I do not mind."
"You're insane."
"I'm in love."
This was getting nowhere fast. Rolling his eyes skyward and praying for a little more patience, Germany saw nothing but planes. Belarus' eyes followed them also, hatefully glaring at them, knowing their destination.
"Alright." Germany tried not to let the irritation come through in his voice. With all his practice hanging around Italy, this went quite well. "Either way, whether you tell me or not, I'm taking you back with me as a hostage."
The point of the knife made itself known again, pressing lightly against his temple. "And if I do not want to go?"
"I don't think you have much of a choice. I'll make your brother trade Poland for you."
Doubt flashed through grey-blue eyes. "He would not make that trade."
Eyebrows raised. "Really?"
"You cannot use me to endanger bratja's plans." The tiny smile returned, victorious. "I am of no value to you. Whatever happens to me will have no impact on bratja. So let me-"
Whatever she had been planning to say was cut off abruptly as she collapsed sideways. Blood blossomed from the side of her head, staining her platinum-blonde hair scarlet. She twitched, mouth working, eyes blinking spasmodically.
Germany had never touched the trigger, but he could feel the heat from the radiation from here.
-----
America's black marker crossed out Minsk, and he crushed the pang of regret.
Notes:
- Jibril is the Arabic form of the name "Gabriel". Means the same thing.
- "Just like old times": Oh boy, these two had such a rivalry in the old days of Empire. Port trying to control the med at the same time as Turkey trying to... control the med. And the Red sea, and the Indian Ocean, yeah it got ugly.And slightly UST.
- "Niamieččyna", Belorussian name for Germany. No, I do not know how to speak this language either, I looked it up.
- "Weißrussland" literally means "white Russ land". Bela would probably like that more than her English name "Belarus", which is harder to relate to Russia.
- I said America'd be bringing the pain.
PS: I was never here.
You didn't see anything.
I will not be replying to comments until much, much later. Two days at least, ten days at most.
Part 52
Characters (in this chapter): Portugal, Turkey, Germany, Belarus, America.
Rating: 15
Warnings: Violence, more gore, foreign languages.
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.
The ocean was white foam, tossed and broken by torpedoes and mines purposefully and remotely detonated. Portugal had lost three of his fleet, over 400 lives, but they'd steamed onwards, through Turkey's hastily assembled defenses, around mines and boats alike. They hadn't expected there to be back up, last minute re-enforcements arriving from NWO, and soon every ship had another to match it, another to contend with.
Turkey and Portugal's head ships had crashed rather spectacularly into each other, thrown into place by a mine that went off too close to Turkey's side accidentally. Now the railings were locked together, and from the sound of the sirens from Turkey's ship, the whole mess was going to go down, or become a floating pile of scrap metal. The storage cupboard for hand-held personal weapons was flooded, and from the looks of things Turkey's men either hadn't been armed in the first place, or had a similar problem.
It didn't stop the navy sailors from trying to beat the living tar out of each other with their bare hands.
Turkey's haymaker was easily ducked under, the Iberian Nation delivering a blow to his ribs in retaliation. He coughed, slightly winded, but brought up his other fist in an uppercut that snapped Portugal's head back. The two stumbled apart, leaning on the railing as the deck tilted sideways in a dangerous manner.
"Just like old times, eh Jibril?" Turkey grinned, checking himself for broken bones.
Portugal spat blood off to the side. "Sim, just like old times. And just like old times, I'm afraid I'm going to have to kick your ass, Sadiq."
"If you can." The cocky air he exuded contrasted with how beaten up he appeared. There were bruises on him that Portugal hadn't inflicted. Three men in an all-out brawl stumbled past them, one of them falling overboard while the other two didn't notice, hitting the water with a splash.
"I hear Saudi Arabia's pulling out, am I right? Iran too, which means Iraq might not be far behind." The fight resumed without queue, Gabriel lunging forward with fist ready to hit Turkey right on the nose. He wasn't wearing his mask today, so it wouldn't hurt his fist. He needn't have worried though, because the former-empire caught his fist and twisted the arm behind his back.
"Yeah, they're pulling out, why's that your business?" Turkey half-growled in his ear. Throwing his head back, Portugal made his second attempt at breaking his enemy's nose a success. He was released from the other Nation's grip, dancing back again.
"Just want to know what I'm up against when I invade."
Sadiq gave him a bloody smile. "You've not gotten rusty at conquering, have you, false angel."
"Aw, is that concern for me, heathen?" The smirk spread across Portugal's face. "You should save it for someone who needs it."
-----
Planes soared overhead, hundreds of bombs being taken to enemy locations. Germany only prayed his men would get there safely, as well as return home in one piece. He was glad for the dryness of summer, because he remembered how Poland's fields could get during the winter, and he was not one to desire his boots caked in mud that dried as soon as you showed it so much as a glimmer of warmth.
He was, some would say ironically, quite worried about Poland at the moment. He hadn't managed to get any sort of contact with his Boss or with the Nation himself, which meant Russia had a stronger grip already than he'd hoped. Poland was a very strong person, and had endured Russia's torments for many hundreds of years now, but there were moments when it seemed that one more partition would break the already cracked Nation's mind entirely.
There had been a time when he hadn't spoken even Polish like some giddy school girl.
Germany had only decided to take the Eastern Front (and he wished they would stop calling it that as well) instead of Prussia because his brother had insisted on going to try and talk sense into France, which he had much better chance of achieving that Germany ever did. For all the time they spent together in the EU, France very rarely listened. He did his own thing. In the most irritatingly laid back, cocky way possible.
Which was why his brother got on with him so well.
The blonde tried not to sigh too loudly, keeping crouched in the high rye crop. To his left and right, he could hear the soft rustle that was the rest of his men, all armed to the teeth and prepared to fight the NWO invasion. Armed with counter-technology, or rather, the same technology that Russia used. They'd finally cracked the neo-silencers, and had them fully equipped on their guns.
Something ahead of them rumbled. A car. Without need for signal, the German soldiers stopped. Ludwig himself strained his ears to hear.
Voices spoke in Ukrainian. And another in Belorussian, before changing back to Ukrainian. Germany couldn't catch most of it, and his understanding of either language was bare at best, but one word grabbed his attention and held it.
Yadernyy.
Nukes.
He kept an ear open for any thing else, the name of a city or a country, whether they were talking in past tense, about what had already been dropped, or future, about where they would drop one next. Frustration boiled beneath the surface. It might have been less annoying if he had not understood anything at all.
Someone to his left stepped on something that snapped, and instantly bullets flew.
Germany ducked and rolled and scrambled to get a good shot in at the NWO soldiers, the unsettling lack of sound making him feel like he'd gone temporarily deaf. Whizzing metal was the only indication anything was happening at all, as well as swears in either language. Sneaking round to the edge of the field, he waited for the opportune moment, just as one of the NWO went down, to leap out and capture a woman in commander's uniform with long blonde hair.
No sooner as he had placed the gun barrel to the side of her head, there was a very large knife at his own.
Belarus stared up at him, cold and unwelcoming as ever.
"Privyet, Niamieččyna." she greeted him.
Germany kept his cool. He was good at at least that. "Guten Tag, Weißrussland."
The corner of her mouth twisted up into a tiny, mad smile. "I like that name, it is more like bratja's."
"Where is he?" Germany demanded. The point of the knife brushed through his hair. He tightened his finger on the trigger, and the metal clicked ominously.
The smile vanished. "You are a fool to think I would tell you."
"Well, I thought the fact I have a gun to your head would sway that."
A stalemate. A few of Germany's soldiers were checking the life signs of the other soldiers. They gave him the okay sign. All dead, huh. These guns were good.
"I will not betray him." Belarus said firmly. And she wouldn't, Germany knew.
"His plans, then?"
"Even if I knew them, I would not tell you."
This surprised the taller man. "You don't even know why he's doing this? But you're his sister."
"He... does not want to tell them to me. He fears the extent of his own love for me, and so he does not speak." she said, eyes averted sadly. 'Nice to know there's still someone that Russia's terrified of.' thought Germany. Belarus continued. "But I will follow him no matter what. I trust him."
"You could be hurt or killed."
"If it is for bratja, then I do not mind."
"You're insane."
"I'm in love."
This was getting nowhere fast. Rolling his eyes skyward and praying for a little more patience, Germany saw nothing but planes. Belarus' eyes followed them also, hatefully glaring at them, knowing their destination.
"Alright." Germany tried not to let the irritation come through in his voice. With all his practice hanging around Italy, this went quite well. "Either way, whether you tell me or not, I'm taking you back with me as a hostage."
The point of the knife made itself known again, pressing lightly against his temple. "And if I do not want to go?"
"I don't think you have much of a choice. I'll make your brother trade Poland for you."
Doubt flashed through grey-blue eyes. "He would not make that trade."
Eyebrows raised. "Really?"
"You cannot use me to endanger bratja's plans." The tiny smile returned, victorious. "I am of no value to you. Whatever happens to me will have no impact on bratja. So let me-"
Whatever she had been planning to say was cut off abruptly as she collapsed sideways. Blood blossomed from the side of her head, staining her platinum-blonde hair scarlet. She twitched, mouth working, eyes blinking spasmodically.
Germany had never touched the trigger, but he could feel the heat from the radiation from here.
-----
America's black marker crossed out Minsk, and he crushed the pang of regret.
Notes:
- Jibril is the Arabic form of the name "Gabriel". Means the same thing.
- "Just like old times": Oh boy, these two had such a rivalry in the old days of Empire. Port trying to control the med at the same time as Turkey trying to... control the med. And the Red sea, and the Indian Ocean, yeah it got ugly.
- "Niamieččyna", Belorussian name for Germany. No, I do not know how to speak this language either, I looked it up.
- "Weißrussland" literally means "white Russ land". Bela would probably like that more than her English name "Belarus", which is harder to relate to Russia.
- I said America'd be bringing the pain.
PS: I was never here.
You didn't see anything.
I will not be replying to comments until much, much later. Two days at least, ten days at most.
Part 52
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Oh. Well. D8
Weee and another country down. The black marker of doom makes another appearance.
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And now I'm back.
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/waits forever
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Port loves you too. <3 America's just... yeah. >>
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Also hnnngh false angel and heathen are the best pet names ever okay kthnx.
And Germany aaaaah. That's right, send Prussia to France with the big guns. Come on Germany you're like a tank. BE A TANK. And I love Belarus omg, creepy obsession with her brother not withstanding but aaaaah that's so sad and scary and OH GOD AMERICA, YOU DIDN'T. This can't go ooooon lolololol orz.
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With a black marker of doom.
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I was grinning as I wrote it. Meanwhile England glares smoldering hate into the back of my head.
There's more trouble coming from France's borders atm than the invaded Poland. Germany is totally a tank, STEAMROLLER PLUS TANK or something. And I'm afraid America totally did. And it will go oooooon.
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Also, LOL Port and Turkey. They are both so badass. XD
Germany would send Prussia. I think he'd just get annoyed (and be ignored) if he'd gone to do it himself. Haha.
I didn't see anything >.> *whistles*
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Badass sailors because IN THE NAAAVYYYY EVERYBODY'S A FRIEND
Prussia probably would have shown up himself and kicked Germany out of the way if he wasn't allowed.
Good.
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Ooh, ooh, ooh. America you bad boy. >:3 Augh, Port and Turkey and boats. asjkgfakshd. YES.
I was never here.
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Indeed you were not. Neither was I.
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I love them so hardcore ohmygod this scares me eeeee UST.
oh America ;__________;
I saw nothing & was never here. ...but Turkey and Port and boats. I swear.
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Oh Alfred, stop spamming nukes plzkthx
Haha okay this chapter may have been slightly fanservice-y
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Hmm...Germany got me wondering about Poland again...I miss the pink tanks!
I kinda feel sorry for Belarus. Does that make me as bad as her?
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We all miss the pink tanks dear, we all do. *pets*
Nah, it means you have a heart whereas I do not. 8D
Not as bad as Mattie
This is going to piss off both Ukraine and Russia isn't it? Are they both going to attack America again? Will the nukes ever stop?
and yay Port and Turkey!
Well more people like Mattie than Bela.
Find out next time.~
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... Actually never mind, everybody else pretty much portrayed my reactions pretty well. xD Yay for Port and Turkey and bawww for Bela... ._.;; And baww for Poland. And bawwwww for everybody kjfhlkagjhg.
I'd like to note though that Belarus means "White Rus" in Belarussian. It's not quite "White Russia" but it's close enough. Russia is actually Расія in Belarussian (pronounced Rah-SEE-yah) but note that "Russian" (as in the adjective) is Рускі (I think, sorry I don't actually know any Belarussian, I'm just going with my basic Russian and Ukranian skills coupled with my Google-fu and Wikipedia) which is pronounced something like "Roos-KEY" so you can see that the "rus" in Belarus still associates with Russia. That's why in most East European and Nordic countries Belarus is called literally "White Russia" in each of their respective languages. I know it's like that at least in all the Nordic five, the Baltics, Poland, the German countries, Hungary, Netherlands, Greece... and even some totally unrelated countries like China (白俄罗斯. :Dbb 白 ("Bai") means white, 俄罗斯 ("Eluosi") is the Chinese name for Russia).
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v424/Vismuttitomu/familyties_temp.png
... the black star is too big for European countries...
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Bawww all over the world it's just bawwwwww D8
Hm, a very good point well made. I'll leave the line in anyway. I like it there.
... the star is too big... scary... it would swallow a lot of other countries whole.
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Well, it's not really totally wrong, the line. x); Just wanted to point out that the Germans didn't actually just come up with that. Although of course it's more obvious to me since it's the same case in my language and all. (It's "Valko-Venäjä" in Finnish. And yes it means the same, we just have our own word for Russia (Venäjä) because we're special like that.)
Mm. Yep. But it's really misleading. ;;; Maybe I should have made it the same size as the other stars. >__>;; Might be a good idea to edit them smaller actually. Even the red star size would be too big, actually, unless they are using Tsar Bomba scale nukes... (If so, they are just crazy. That's the bomb even USSR government said "okay we're not going there" to.)
It's not that the bombs are small. They definitely are NOT. It's just that the world is big. So big that it's sometimes hard to grasp with our tiny human brains.
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I REGRET NOTHING ASDJFKLSDJFBut anyways. I love you how take yandere!Russia and like... put him on crack or steroids or something and suddenly he's like this scaryass mofo who's doing this ALL FOR AMERICA (UST from Cold War, or something? ;n;) and just... wow. I am seekritly in love with how you write him.
AND AMERICA TOO HOLY SHIT YOU MAKE HIM SEEM SO SCARY. AND CANADA TOO (although I'm still optimistic he'll be somehow... reincarnated? :c). AND BELARUS and at this point I'm really wondering how you're going to end this epic-ness
and if there's any hope for a happy ending at all because I'm on the verge of tears /sobsobon a different sidenote PortugalxTurkey is now one of my OTPs. cB only he can call someone a heathen and still make it sound sexy huhuhu
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7 1/2 HOURS GEEZ THAT IS INSANE ;3;Haha Yandere!Russia on steroids. I suppose that's what this is, isn't it. XD He's a lovable psychopath, isn't he? *pets him*
HEY MAN HE'S GOTTA GET EVEN FOR WHAT HAPPENED TO MATTIE. And don't fuck with Canada, it's not smart. Sometimes I wonder how I'll ever be able to end it too askjkfdhg
Port is a sexy sexy nation and can make insults pet names.
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Gah I cant wait for the next update!!
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Here!
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And poor Russia in his twisted, twisted love...(actually, I went to St Petersburg (Ivan's lung?) last month, and found that hetalia's portrayal of him is very...perverse. Ivan is isolated, and his people are violent drunks, but him as a nation is not powerful because his resources aren't well managed).
A minor thing...'privyet' is 'hi' for people who're friends/closer to one another. A more formal greeting is 'zdratsvooitye'