Family Ties [Part 3]
Title: Family Ties
Author: Me, silly.
Characters (in this chapter): Wales, England, Scotland, France, America and... uh.... um... CANADA. That was it.
Rating: 12? I guess? It's a bridge chapter idk.
Warnings: Mattie's rant.
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.
“I told you not to lose your cool.” Wales muttered to his outwardly calm sibling, who shrugged.
“I’m cool. I’m just peachy.”
“Not now, back then. With what Jimmy said about America-”
“Sore spots 300 years old do not go away that quickly, Wales.” England snapped, then paused in stuffing his papers back into his bag as everyone else filed out the doors for lunch. His shoulders slumped. “… sorry, Darren. Still on edge.”
“S’okay, I’m cool with it.” He smiled slightly.
“Stop that, you sound like Alfred.”
“Or alternatively, I sound like the 16th century.” He noted. England cracked a smile. Ah, progress. “Though I could look like America, watch.” He lifted a strand of his parted blonde hair, which usually hung halfway in his face, and held it up. England snorted.
“Loose the eyebrows and we’re close.” He recommended. Wales gave him an offended look, letting go of the hair to cover his forehead protectively.
“Woah there, not the Kirkland family heirlooms. Prized national treasures, these.”
At that, England really did laugh.
-----
“Soooo, Francis.” Said Scotland over lunch, playing with his salad. “Hows about we kick start relations again, hm?”
“Cher, you’re not just going to break my fragile heart again, are you?” France smirked back, gesturing with his fork and smiling slyly. “I do not want to be a tool to make your brother jealous again, oui?”
Scotland laughed. “Ach, no, I’m just lookin’ for some good trade agreements and the like.” Trademark bushy eyebrows raised suggestively. “And to check that the Entent Cordial includes me by default.”
France snorted. “I will check the fine print.” He said. “But in all seriousness, mon ami, why are you pulling this little… stunt?”
Scotland sighed and folded his arms. “It’s… not like I really want to hate him. Heck, he was pretty decent until recently.” Him, obviously, was England. France wondered at the avoidance. “He’s my bratty wee brother, I cannae truly hate my own kin.” He looked tiredly at the other Nation. “But my people, they’re gettin’ sick of this war, and of his stupid policies. ‘Tis majority vote, Francis. Majority rules, tat’s democracy, righ’? Plus I have my government back now, and we know where things go wrong from what he did.”
France stayed silent for a long while, then nodded. “I can see your point, quite clearly.” He paused, then added. “But did you really have to say that to him?”
Scotland shrugged. “You of all people should know how easy it is to make him mad. Therapeutic when yer in a bad way.”
Now that was something France could agree with.
------
“So yeah, I’m totally confused right now.” America said around a mouthful of hamburger. His brother neatly dodged the spray, well practiced at the art of “talking to America when he’s eating”.
“About what’s going on with Scotland and England?” He asked, shielding Kumajiro from a stray lump of meat.
“Yeah. Wait, how did you know that? Were you there?”
“Al, I’m there every single time.” Matthew stressed, a slight pout forming as his neighbour laughed, somehow not choking on his food.
“Of course, of course, I’m just messing with ya.” Canada highly doubted that, but stayed silent. “Anyway, I meant that it’s weird that they’re like always fighting. They’re brothers, aren’t they? Speak the same language and all.” He slurped on his coke contemplatively. “And I thought they were friends too. How’d they get like that.”
“Well, think of what could have happened if I had taken 1812 to heart.”
“Matt, you and England burned down my capital.”
“More seriously than that.”
America blanched. “So you mean, because England got a bit big for his boots, again, and tried to uh…”
“Impose himself on his brothers.” Canada helpfully supplied. His brother nodded.
“Yeah, that. Because of that, everyone on the British Isles hates him?”
“Yeah.” Canada beamed, glad that America was being quick today. “Apart from Wales.”
“There are wales in England?”
“No, the country. The one that was standing behind England the whole meeting. Your technical uncle.”
“Oh! Oh, that guy!” Alfred exclaimed, starting on the fries. “The big dude. He’s kind of like you, all quiet and not noticed until suddenly wham! Stopping people from being beaten to death with flag poles. He’s kind of a hero. Like me!”
“He’s related to both of us, so… yeah.”
There was thoughtful silence. Or as much silence as could be had in the presence of and American in the process of eating.
“You know, you really don’t help with their conflicts, Al.” Matthew muttered, tickling behind Kumajiro’s ear. America paused.
“Whut?” He mumbled around a chicken nugget, peering over the rims of his glasses, as they slipped down his nose due to his enthusiastic munching.
“Well, there was that one time that you sold Ireland those weapons.”
America choked.
“And pretended not to know when England asked you to stop, and kept going instead. And you only did it because you felt some kind of lose connection to her through family or something. Just because she gave you that stuffed bunny when you were little. Seriously.”
Managing not to die by suffocation, America raised his hands pleadingly. “Uh, Mattie?”
“And I mean, this whole dilemma is because you dragged England into this war in the first place, which in turn means he had to drag his brothers in or he wouldn’t have the sufficient numbers.”
“Mattie, you’re doing it again-”
“I know you’re trying to keep the world at peace, but how does starting another war help with that?”
“I-”
“It’s kind of egotistical of you to think that you can just go and do what you like and think the rest of the world will follow you. People are saying you’re just in this for the oil, picking on poor Iraq because she’s got lots of it.”
“Woah there Matt-”
“You’re not in charge of the world, Alfred, China’s got more power and money than you do right now, ever since the Economic Shift back to Asia. Only reason I’m doing so well is because I’m not so paranoid about foreigners in my country. I just-”
“Um, sir?” came the timid voice of the waitress standing by their table. “We, um, don’t allow animals in this store.” Her eyes drifted over to America. “And, erm, you made your friend cry.”
“Aw, maple.”
Notes:
- The modern American accent differs from Modern English because it's a preserved form of the 16th century dialect that the colonists brought with them from England. Hence, Wales' comment that he sounds like the 16th century when he talks like America.
Part 4
Author: Me, silly.
Characters (in this chapter): Wales, England, Scotland, France, America and... uh.... um... CANADA. That was it.
Rating: 12? I guess? It's a bridge chapter idk.
Warnings: Mattie's rant.
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.
“I told you not to lose your cool.” Wales muttered to his outwardly calm sibling, who shrugged.
“I’m cool. I’m just peachy.”
“Not now, back then. With what Jimmy said about America-”
“Sore spots 300 years old do not go away that quickly, Wales.” England snapped, then paused in stuffing his papers back into his bag as everyone else filed out the doors for lunch. His shoulders slumped. “… sorry, Darren. Still on edge.”
“S’okay, I’m cool with it.” He smiled slightly.
“Stop that, you sound like Alfred.”
“Or alternatively, I sound like the 16th century.” He noted. England cracked a smile. Ah, progress. “Though I could look like America, watch.” He lifted a strand of his parted blonde hair, which usually hung halfway in his face, and held it up. England snorted.
“Loose the eyebrows and we’re close.” He recommended. Wales gave him an offended look, letting go of the hair to cover his forehead protectively.
“Woah there, not the Kirkland family heirlooms. Prized national treasures, these.”
At that, England really did laugh.
-----
“Soooo, Francis.” Said Scotland over lunch, playing with his salad. “Hows about we kick start relations again, hm?”
“Cher, you’re not just going to break my fragile heart again, are you?” France smirked back, gesturing with his fork and smiling slyly. “I do not want to be a tool to make your brother jealous again, oui?”
Scotland laughed. “Ach, no, I’m just lookin’ for some good trade agreements and the like.” Trademark bushy eyebrows raised suggestively. “And to check that the Entent Cordial includes me by default.”
France snorted. “I will check the fine print.” He said. “But in all seriousness, mon ami, why are you pulling this little… stunt?”
Scotland sighed and folded his arms. “It’s… not like I really want to hate him. Heck, he was pretty decent until recently.” Him, obviously, was England. France wondered at the avoidance. “He’s my bratty wee brother, I cannae truly hate my own kin.” He looked tiredly at the other Nation. “But my people, they’re gettin’ sick of this war, and of his stupid policies. ‘Tis majority vote, Francis. Majority rules, tat’s democracy, righ’? Plus I have my government back now, and we know where things go wrong from what he did.”
France stayed silent for a long while, then nodded. “I can see your point, quite clearly.” He paused, then added. “But did you really have to say that to him?”
Scotland shrugged. “You of all people should know how easy it is to make him mad. Therapeutic when yer in a bad way.”
Now that was something France could agree with.
------
“So yeah, I’m totally confused right now.” America said around a mouthful of hamburger. His brother neatly dodged the spray, well practiced at the art of “talking to America when he’s eating”.
“About what’s going on with Scotland and England?” He asked, shielding Kumajiro from a stray lump of meat.
“Yeah. Wait, how did you know that? Were you there?”
“Al, I’m there every single time.” Matthew stressed, a slight pout forming as his neighbour laughed, somehow not choking on his food.
“Of course, of course, I’m just messing with ya.” Canada highly doubted that, but stayed silent. “Anyway, I meant that it’s weird that they’re like always fighting. They’re brothers, aren’t they? Speak the same language and all.” He slurped on his coke contemplatively. “And I thought they were friends too. How’d they get like that.”
“Well, think of what could have happened if I had taken 1812 to heart.”
“Matt, you and England burned down my capital.”
“More seriously than that.”
America blanched. “So you mean, because England got a bit big for his boots, again, and tried to uh…”
“Impose himself on his brothers.” Canada helpfully supplied. His brother nodded.
“Yeah, that. Because of that, everyone on the British Isles hates him?”
“Yeah.” Canada beamed, glad that America was being quick today. “Apart from Wales.”
“There are wales in England?”
“No, the country. The one that was standing behind England the whole meeting. Your technical uncle.”
“Oh! Oh, that guy!” Alfred exclaimed, starting on the fries. “The big dude. He’s kind of like you, all quiet and not noticed until suddenly wham! Stopping people from being beaten to death with flag poles. He’s kind of a hero. Like me!”
“He’s related to both of us, so… yeah.”
There was thoughtful silence. Or as much silence as could be had in the presence of and American in the process of eating.
“You know, you really don’t help with their conflicts, Al.” Matthew muttered, tickling behind Kumajiro’s ear. America paused.
“Whut?” He mumbled around a chicken nugget, peering over the rims of his glasses, as they slipped down his nose due to his enthusiastic munching.
“Well, there was that one time that you sold Ireland those weapons.”
America choked.
“And pretended not to know when England asked you to stop, and kept going instead. And you only did it because you felt some kind of lose connection to her through family or something. Just because she gave you that stuffed bunny when you were little. Seriously.”
Managing not to die by suffocation, America raised his hands pleadingly. “Uh, Mattie?”
“And I mean, this whole dilemma is because you dragged England into this war in the first place, which in turn means he had to drag his brothers in or he wouldn’t have the sufficient numbers.”
“Mattie, you’re doing it again-”
“I know you’re trying to keep the world at peace, but how does starting another war help with that?”
“I-”
“It’s kind of egotistical of you to think that you can just go and do what you like and think the rest of the world will follow you. People are saying you’re just in this for the oil, picking on poor Iraq because she’s got lots of it.”
“Woah there Matt-”
“You’re not in charge of the world, Alfred, China’s got more power and money than you do right now, ever since the Economic Shift back to Asia. Only reason I’m doing so well is because I’m not so paranoid about foreigners in my country. I just-”
“Um, sir?” came the timid voice of the waitress standing by their table. “We, um, don’t allow animals in this store.” Her eyes drifted over to America. “And, erm, you made your friend cry.”
“Aw, maple.”
Notes:
- The modern American accent differs from Modern English because it's a preserved form of the 16th century dialect that the colonists brought with them from England. Hence, Wales' comment that he sounds like the 16th century when he talks like America.
Part 4