Family Ties [Part 22]
Title: Family Ties
Characters (in this chapter): Germany, the Italy Bros, PRUSSIA, Finland, Russia, assorted armies, Sweden, England, Wales, Ireland, Mexico, America.
Rating: 15
Warnings: faerie death. D8 Finland with a gun.
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.
"Germany~! Fratello!" sang Veneciano, somehow managing to skip into the room while holding three plates of lasagna. "Lunch is ready~!"
"Ah, um, thank you Italy." Germany muttered, looking at the pasta as though if he imagined hard enough it would transform itself into wurst. Romano scoffed.
"Not good enough for you, Potato-bastard?"
Feliciano drooped. "Ve, is it bad, Germany?"
Germany flushed, quickly picking up his fork and tucking in. "Oh, no, not at all. It's very good, Veneciano." North Italy perked up again.
"Bene! Say, fratello, where's Spain? I thought he was meant to be coming."
Romano grumped. This explained his especially bad mood, Germany thought. "He said he had to go talk some sense into his brother. I don't see why; if Gabriel wants to go off to fight in this stupid war, then fine, whatever."
"Ve~ but fratello, if you were going to do something like fight in a stupid war, I'd try to stop you too."
"You're the one who always runs off to fight, on the heels of people like him!" an accusing finger pointed at Germany, who set his lips in a grim, straight line and didn't say anything. North Italy, however, jumped to the rescue, actually looking mildly angry at that.
"Germany hasn't done anything! He's neutral and so are we! Don't be so mean or- or you don't get any desert!"
The 'threat' hung in the air between the two brothers, before Lovino folded his arms and huffed. Then Prussia walked in.
"What the- how the fuck did you get in here?!" Lovino gestured wildly. Prussia grinned at his occasional drinking buddy.
"You left the balcony window open, and now this dinner has just become a million times better due to added awesome!" he cackled. Germany tried to resist the urge to facepalm, and failed.
"Bruder, why are you here?"
"Because a certain little Bruder of mine insists on staying neutral, and my only other buddy is here." he slung an arm around Lovino's shoulders, who spluttered indignantly and tried to push the taller Prussian off, to little success. "Darren's off kicking Russia's ass and so little Lovi and the awesome me are going to go drinking in his honour. Ain't that right, Lovi?"
"Will you get off me?!" the Italian protested. Prussia laughed at the display. "I don't even know why you still exist!"
"Me neither, but I'll take what I can get." the albino Nation shrugged. "Oh yeah, West, Austria told Hungary to tell me to tell you that Lithuania said he can feel Russia breathing down his neck and as the leader of the European Peace Organisation or whatever you decided to call it you need to go tell him where to stick it."
For some reason, Germany did not look happy about this news. Prussia couldn't fathom why; if it were him he'd waste no time in telling that fat bastard how many ways he could fuck off out of Eastern Europe.
"Oh, and Poland says hi." he added as an afterthought. His brother looked at him through weary blue eyes.
"Is there anywhere you haven't been while I was looking the other way?" he groaned. Prussia thought. He thought for a while.
"Only neutrals territories. Don't be such a stiff, West."
The blonde stood from the table, dabbing at his mouth with a napkin. "Thank you, Veneciano, that was a good dinner." North Italy beamed with pride. "Now it appears I need to go sort out this thing with Russia."
"Ve~! I'll come too! Day trip, day trip!" the younger Italian skipped along after Germany, singing a song about tomatoes. This left Romano and Prussia standing in the dining room.
"Sooooo~... up for a drink?"
"If I say yes, will you GET THE FUCK OFF ME ALREADY?!"
"Mmmnope! Kesesese!"
"... fine. You're buying."
-----
Having the advantage of knowing the terrain as though it was your own body was always a good thing in any kind of fight. Finland was especially lucky in that the terrain technically was his body, and every snowflake that fell marked another Russian to be shot in the head. He only hoped he could keep them back long enough for Sweden to run home and find Peter and get out of here before it got too dangerous for the little micronation.
His stealth ops were crouched behind trees, camouflaged and quiet as death. It was foolish of Russia to think that he had General Winter on his side only. General Winter took no true sides. Sure, he embraced Russia and stole lives from him in return for protection, but did he not do the same for all the Northern countries?
Russia stepped into the sights of his sniper, and the Finn fired without hesitation. There would be no point to waiting, after all. The Slavic Nation reeled back, stumbled from the shot in the shoulder, a toothy grin spreading across his face. Then with blood blossoming outwards, kept moving. As usual.
"What the hell is that guy?!" one of his men whispered to another. Finland frowned.
"The enemy, and that is all we need to know."
His mobile vibrated quietly in his pocket. He rushed to check it.
Got Peter. Unconscious. House burned. Meet you at Norge's.
The next squad of Russians went down with particularly accurate head shots.
-----
"America, where'd you put your bloody electric kettle? Do you live in the dark ages?" England called from the kitchen. America looked up from where Mexico was trying to explain maps to him and yelled back.
"Tea is gross, unless it's iced tea but you hate that stuff. I have a coffee machine instead!"
"I'm not drinking that cold piss you pass off for tea, and your coffee machine is broken!" a pause, and he hastened to add. "I don't even like coffee anyway!"
"Guys..." Wales sighed, massaging his temples in an attempt to will the headache away. This whole thing was becoming a huge clusterfuck. The last intel they'd gotten from behind enemy lines had turned out to be a fake line of bullshit about invading Australia. Which would be infinitely stupid, because Russia wanted to use his winter advantage. No, he was covering for something, now if only they could find out what...
There was a faerie tapping on the window.
Wales blinked. Rubbed his eyes. Blinked again.
"Are you seeing that, Aine?" he pointed. Ireland looked up from her laptop, following his indication.
"... aye. That's a fae. Is it yours?"
"No, and it's not one of James' or England's either. It looks different." he frowned. Indeed, it was the wrong colour, it's features were different and the over all feel was- not off, just not what he was used to.
"Well who else has faeries?"
"Did someone say faeries?" England poked his head back into the room, and noticed the little sprite. "Astri! What on earth- does that mean Norway sent you? All this way and-" He rushed to the window, letting it open and the little faerie sit on his hand, apparently exhausted. "Good god, they injured you!"
Mexico shared a look with her brother. "Do they... do this often?" she said slowly, like she doubted the sanity of those around her. America nodded gravely.
"Just let them, it makes them happy."
England's eyebrows were drawn close together when he turned back to the North America siblings. "I think we've just found out what Russia's been trying to cover up." The little fae breathed her last on England's palm, the light flickering out. He stared at it mournfully, but didn't have time for respectful silence. "Finland's been beaten halfway back through his land in the past three days."
Notes:
- Gabriel (aka Portugal) shamelessly ganked from candesceres's headcanon. Her awesome cannot be emphasized enough. Yes, there will be more Port later.
- Since Prussia technically doesn't exist, he can come and go as he pleases, but Germany's said no gallivanting around in NWO or WDF territory, or someone's going to jump the gun.
- Buono tomato~ Buono tomato~ buono buono uu tomato! It's in your head foreverrrrr~!
- Coffee is in fact extremely popular in the UK. BUT WE REFUSE TO ADMIT WE LIKE IT MORE THAN TEA.
- Every time Russia smiles, a kitten/puppy/faerie dies. :[ Just kidding. <3
Part 23
Characters (in this chapter): Germany, the Italy Bros, PRUSSIA, Finland, Russia, assorted armies, Sweden, England, Wales, Ireland, Mexico, America.
Rating: 15
Warnings: faerie death. D8 Finland with a gun.
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.
"Germany~! Fratello!" sang Veneciano, somehow managing to skip into the room while holding three plates of lasagna. "Lunch is ready~!"
"Ah, um, thank you Italy." Germany muttered, looking at the pasta as though if he imagined hard enough it would transform itself into wurst. Romano scoffed.
"Not good enough for you, Potato-bastard?"
Feliciano drooped. "Ve, is it bad, Germany?"
Germany flushed, quickly picking up his fork and tucking in. "Oh, no, not at all. It's very good, Veneciano." North Italy perked up again.
"Bene! Say, fratello, where's Spain? I thought he was meant to be coming."
Romano grumped. This explained his especially bad mood, Germany thought. "He said he had to go talk some sense into his brother. I don't see why; if Gabriel wants to go off to fight in this stupid war, then fine, whatever."
"Ve~ but fratello, if you were going to do something like fight in a stupid war, I'd try to stop you too."
"You're the one who always runs off to fight, on the heels of people like him!" an accusing finger pointed at Germany, who set his lips in a grim, straight line and didn't say anything. North Italy, however, jumped to the rescue, actually looking mildly angry at that.
"Germany hasn't done anything! He's neutral and so are we! Don't be so mean or- or you don't get any desert!"
The 'threat' hung in the air between the two brothers, before Lovino folded his arms and huffed. Then Prussia walked in.
"What the- how the fuck did you get in here?!" Lovino gestured wildly. Prussia grinned at his occasional drinking buddy.
"You left the balcony window open, and now this dinner has just become a million times better due to added awesome!" he cackled. Germany tried to resist the urge to facepalm, and failed.
"Bruder, why are you here?"
"Because a certain little Bruder of mine insists on staying neutral, and my only other buddy is here." he slung an arm around Lovino's shoulders, who spluttered indignantly and tried to push the taller Prussian off, to little success. "Darren's off kicking Russia's ass and so little Lovi and the awesome me are going to go drinking in his honour. Ain't that right, Lovi?"
"Will you get off me?!" the Italian protested. Prussia laughed at the display. "I don't even know why you still exist!"
"Me neither, but I'll take what I can get." the albino Nation shrugged. "Oh yeah, West, Austria told Hungary to tell me to tell you that Lithuania said he can feel Russia breathing down his neck and as the leader of the European Peace Organisation or whatever you decided to call it you need to go tell him where to stick it."
For some reason, Germany did not look happy about this news. Prussia couldn't fathom why; if it were him he'd waste no time in telling that fat bastard how many ways he could fuck off out of Eastern Europe.
"Oh, and Poland says hi." he added as an afterthought. His brother looked at him through weary blue eyes.
"Is there anywhere you haven't been while I was looking the other way?" he groaned. Prussia thought. He thought for a while.
"Only neutrals territories. Don't be such a stiff, West."
The blonde stood from the table, dabbing at his mouth with a napkin. "Thank you, Veneciano, that was a good dinner." North Italy beamed with pride. "Now it appears I need to go sort out this thing with Russia."
"Ve~! I'll come too! Day trip, day trip!" the younger Italian skipped along after Germany, singing a song about tomatoes. This left Romano and Prussia standing in the dining room.
"Sooooo~... up for a drink?"
"If I say yes, will you GET THE FUCK OFF ME ALREADY?!"
"Mmmnope! Kesesese!"
"... fine. You're buying."
-----
Having the advantage of knowing the terrain as though it was your own body was always a good thing in any kind of fight. Finland was especially lucky in that the terrain technically was his body, and every snowflake that fell marked another Russian to be shot in the head. He only hoped he could keep them back long enough for Sweden to run home and find Peter and get out of here before it got too dangerous for the little micronation.
His stealth ops were crouched behind trees, camouflaged and quiet as death. It was foolish of Russia to think that he had General Winter on his side only. General Winter took no true sides. Sure, he embraced Russia and stole lives from him in return for protection, but did he not do the same for all the Northern countries?
Russia stepped into the sights of his sniper, and the Finn fired without hesitation. There would be no point to waiting, after all. The Slavic Nation reeled back, stumbled from the shot in the shoulder, a toothy grin spreading across his face. Then with blood blossoming outwards, kept moving. As usual.
"What the hell is that guy?!" one of his men whispered to another. Finland frowned.
"The enemy, and that is all we need to know."
His mobile vibrated quietly in his pocket. He rushed to check it.
Got Peter. Unconscious. House burned. Meet you at Norge's.
The next squad of Russians went down with particularly accurate head shots.
-----
"America, where'd you put your bloody electric kettle? Do you live in the dark ages?" England called from the kitchen. America looked up from where Mexico was trying to explain maps to him and yelled back.
"Tea is gross, unless it's iced tea but you hate that stuff. I have a coffee machine instead!"
"I'm not drinking that cold piss you pass off for tea, and your coffee machine is broken!" a pause, and he hastened to add. "I don't even like coffee anyway!"
"Guys..." Wales sighed, massaging his temples in an attempt to will the headache away. This whole thing was becoming a huge clusterfuck. The last intel they'd gotten from behind enemy lines had turned out to be a fake line of bullshit about invading Australia. Which would be infinitely stupid, because Russia wanted to use his winter advantage. No, he was covering for something, now if only they could find out what...
There was a faerie tapping on the window.
Wales blinked. Rubbed his eyes. Blinked again.
"Are you seeing that, Aine?" he pointed. Ireland looked up from her laptop, following his indication.
"... aye. That's a fae. Is it yours?"
"No, and it's not one of James' or England's either. It looks different." he frowned. Indeed, it was the wrong colour, it's features were different and the over all feel was- not off, just not what he was used to.
"Well who else has faeries?"
"Did someone say faeries?" England poked his head back into the room, and noticed the little sprite. "Astri! What on earth- does that mean Norway sent you? All this way and-" He rushed to the window, letting it open and the little faerie sit on his hand, apparently exhausted. "Good god, they injured you!"
Mexico shared a look with her brother. "Do they... do this often?" she said slowly, like she doubted the sanity of those around her. America nodded gravely.
"Just let them, it makes them happy."
England's eyebrows were drawn close together when he turned back to the North America siblings. "I think we've just found out what Russia's been trying to cover up." The little fae breathed her last on England's palm, the light flickering out. He stared at it mournfully, but didn't have time for respectful silence. "Finland's been beaten halfway back through his land in the past three days."
Notes:
- Gabriel (aka Portugal) shamelessly ganked from candesceres's headcanon. Her awesome cannot be emphasized enough. Yes, there will be more Port later.
- Since Prussia technically doesn't exist, he can come and go as he pleases, but Germany's said no gallivanting around in NWO or WDF territory, or someone's going to jump the gun.
- Buono tomato~ Buono tomato~ buono buono uu tomato! It's in your head foreverrrrr~!
- Coffee is in fact extremely popular in the UK. BUT WE REFUSE TO ADMIT WE LIKE IT MORE THAN TEA.
- Every time Russia smiles, a kitten/puppy/faerie dies. :[ Just kidding. <3
Part 23