Family Ties [Part 37]
Title: Family Ties
Characters (in this chapter): Lithuania, Poland, Russia, England, Wales, Scotland, Northern Ireland, France.
Rating: 12
Warnings: Russia, in highly concentrated doses.
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.
Lithuania coughed on brick dust as Russia turned fully to face the intruder. Inwardly, the clash of panic and sheer relief nearly made the brunette Nation sick.
"So when I heard about this I was like 'no way he'd be so stupid'-" came Poland's voice, the sunshine outside streaming through the dirt, creating a silhouette. A very large, bulky silhouette. "-but my boss was all like 'uhuh he's totally that stupid' so I was all 'get the tanks and we'll kick some ass' only I didn't like the colour so I splashed on a little paint and that's why I'm late!"
The dust cleared, and revealed Feliks, sitting sideways on the cannon barrel. The pink cannon barrel, as it seemed that it and most of the rest of the armored vehicle was a bright, barbie pink colour.
Poland dusted some dirt off his shoulder. "So, like, sorry Russia, but I'm so not letting you invade Liet. Nuh-uh."
Lithuania was expecting a lot of things from Russia at that point, but the one that he had been dreading was-
"Ehehehe!" Ivan giggled, turning to face Poland fully and spinning his pipe in his hand. "So nice of you to join us, Poland."
"Fashionably late, duh." he flicked his hair, and Toris was half between facepalming and screaming at his best friend to run. "Anyway, you have three seconds to scram from here or I'll blow you up, mmkay?"
Russia's smile widened. The Baltic Nation suddenly found himself restrained, pipe at his neck and pressed up so he couldn't breathe, held in front of Russia like a human shield. "Go ahead."
Poland pouted. "Hey, no fair, I can't just blow up my bestie to get to you."
"That would be the point, da?"
At a stalemate, the two of them stared at each other. It seemed Ivan was willing to play the waiting game as long as he had to. Toris wished he wouldn't.
"What're you planning to do with him?" Poland's valley-girl accent dropped off for a moment, surprising both of them.
"A stepping stone to Europe."
"Why Liet?"
"Because he's next door to you."
Poland pulled back, making a grossed out face. "Like, don't get all weird on me, I am so not in to crazys."
The world was blurring in and out at the edges, and Lithuania felt like he was underwater, voices dulled. He needed to breathe, Russia was pushing too tight. "Poland..." he gasped quietly.
"I don't need you to be." Russia said simply. "I am not invading you for you, nyet. You have important connections."
"You're like totally not getting my boutique discount card no matter how much you need it." Poland glared. "Besides, you can't attack me without getting America on your back. He'll totes have to break out the nukes and you said no nukes. Both of you."
Slowly, the realisation hit Toris of exactly what Ivan was planning. He struggled weakly. "Poland... run!"
Something hard hit the back of his head, and while breathing suddenly became easier, consciousness slipped as he fell to the floor. Russia's boots clacked a steady pace, echoing in his ears with the last words he heard before darkness claimed him.
"Perhaps, that is what I want, da?"
---
Ah, rain. No matter what, there was always the rain.
Putting up an umbrella would be stupid; it'd only be blown inside out from the wind, and the rain was coming in sideways regardless. Besides which, the two of them were far too used to marching through mud in the rain to care much. Though they weren't actually marching this time; riding on the back of one of the new tanks was much easier.
Arthur went a little cross eyed again, so Wales quietly supported him until it passed. It was developing into a routine, one he'd never really had to do before because the last time England was invaded, Wales had been so high up in his mountains he didn't care.
Only now James had gotten so far as Birmingham, Wales was also in danger, and felt himself grow more worried by it by the day.
"Well, at least he's stopped at the Peak District." England grumbled. "He can't pass there so easily. It's nearly a straight line, then the occupation dips down into Birmingham. Gah." he pressed his hands to his eyes.
"We'll boot him out before he reaches any further." Wales patted the tank with pride. "They'll never see this coming."
---
"Oh hey." Scotland grinned, looking at the hijacked CCTV camera screens. "Look who's coming."
Northern Ireland, wrists strapped to a chair, yelled at his older brother. "Damn it Jim, wake up!" All he got was a rather pitying look from France. The boat they were on, floating on the Irish sea, rocked sideways with the wind, though none of the Nations were too bothered by it. Scotland got up from his seat, sweeping out of the room.
"Where are you going, cher?" France called after him.
"Got a play date with Artie, you watch North!"
The silence continued for a little while longer, before Éibhear made his third attempt that day in getting out of his restraints. Writhing and kicking and snarling, he managed nothing in the end, and slumped back, panting for breath and glaring at France. "I hate you."
France nodded tiredly. "I know."
"This is your fault."
"I know."
"We're all going to die like this."
"... I know."
"Can't you just... let me go?" Northern Ireland tried a different tactic, and pulled off the kicked puppy look very well, considering his situation. "Come on Francis, I know they've not done what they did to Jim to you."
France didn't look at him. "No. I'm not leaving him." a shuddering breath left him. "I got him into this mess, and I will get him out of it."
"Oh, very good answer France~!" North giggled, no longer himself. The room chilled and France shivered. "That's right, you can't just leave him like this can you~! That would make you even more of a coward than you already are, da?" Violet eyes sparkled with childish mischief. "Oh, and I am expecting America to contact us soon, so leave a channel open for him please~!"
The blonde Nation kept his face very carefully blank when he asked; "Russia, what have you done?"
A high giggle was the only answer he got. "Oh, and Poland says hello! Or he would if he could talk right now~ aahahahaha- gah..." Northern Ireland jerked forward, released from Russia's power, and blinked the green back into his eyes. "Graaaahh! I am not your fucking telecom Russia!!" he raged, struggling again.
France, meanwhile, felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach that was nothing to do with the rocking of the boat.
Notes:
- Polish-American Anti-Missile Defense deal - If anyone, and that does mean anyone, attacks Poland with the use of missiles or worse, nukes, America is obligated to step in and kick them out by using the same amount of force. It was implemented to protect Poland (who has like the worst luck ever) from any more attack. Because America and Poland are like totally besties.
- I feel an evil laugh is in order, because it's aaaaall downhill from here.
Part 38
Characters (in this chapter): Lithuania, Poland, Russia, England, Wales, Scotland, Northern Ireland, France.
Rating: 12
Warnings: Russia, in highly concentrated doses.
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.
Lithuania coughed on brick dust as Russia turned fully to face the intruder. Inwardly, the clash of panic and sheer relief nearly made the brunette Nation sick.
"So when I heard about this I was like 'no way he'd be so stupid'-" came Poland's voice, the sunshine outside streaming through the dirt, creating a silhouette. A very large, bulky silhouette. "-but my boss was all like 'uhuh he's totally that stupid' so I was all 'get the tanks and we'll kick some ass' only I didn't like the colour so I splashed on a little paint and that's why I'm late!"
The dust cleared, and revealed Feliks, sitting sideways on the cannon barrel. The pink cannon barrel, as it seemed that it and most of the rest of the armored vehicle was a bright, barbie pink colour.
Poland dusted some dirt off his shoulder. "So, like, sorry Russia, but I'm so not letting you invade Liet. Nuh-uh."
Lithuania was expecting a lot of things from Russia at that point, but the one that he had been dreading was-
"Ehehehe!" Ivan giggled, turning to face Poland fully and spinning his pipe in his hand. "So nice of you to join us, Poland."
"Fashionably late, duh." he flicked his hair, and Toris was half between facepalming and screaming at his best friend to run. "Anyway, you have three seconds to scram from here or I'll blow you up, mmkay?"
Russia's smile widened. The Baltic Nation suddenly found himself restrained, pipe at his neck and pressed up so he couldn't breathe, held in front of Russia like a human shield. "Go ahead."
Poland pouted. "Hey, no fair, I can't just blow up my bestie to get to you."
"That would be the point, da?"
At a stalemate, the two of them stared at each other. It seemed Ivan was willing to play the waiting game as long as he had to. Toris wished he wouldn't.
"What're you planning to do with him?" Poland's valley-girl accent dropped off for a moment, surprising both of them.
"A stepping stone to Europe."
"Why Liet?"
"Because he's next door to you."
Poland pulled back, making a grossed out face. "Like, don't get all weird on me, I am so not in to crazys."
The world was blurring in and out at the edges, and Lithuania felt like he was underwater, voices dulled. He needed to breathe, Russia was pushing too tight. "Poland..." he gasped quietly.
"I don't need you to be." Russia said simply. "I am not invading you for you, nyet. You have important connections."
"You're like totally not getting my boutique discount card no matter how much you need it." Poland glared. "Besides, you can't attack me without getting America on your back. He'll totes have to break out the nukes and you said no nukes. Both of you."
Slowly, the realisation hit Toris of exactly what Ivan was planning. He struggled weakly. "Poland... run!"
Something hard hit the back of his head, and while breathing suddenly became easier, consciousness slipped as he fell to the floor. Russia's boots clacked a steady pace, echoing in his ears with the last words he heard before darkness claimed him.
"Perhaps, that is what I want, da?"
---
Ah, rain. No matter what, there was always the rain.
Putting up an umbrella would be stupid; it'd only be blown inside out from the wind, and the rain was coming in sideways regardless. Besides which, the two of them were far too used to marching through mud in the rain to care much. Though they weren't actually marching this time; riding on the back of one of the new tanks was much easier.
Arthur went a little cross eyed again, so Wales quietly supported him until it passed. It was developing into a routine, one he'd never really had to do before because the last time England was invaded, Wales had been so high up in his mountains he didn't care.
Only now James had gotten so far as Birmingham, Wales was also in danger, and felt himself grow more worried by it by the day.
"Well, at least he's stopped at the Peak District." England grumbled. "He can't pass there so easily. It's nearly a straight line, then the occupation dips down into Birmingham. Gah." he pressed his hands to his eyes.
"We'll boot him out before he reaches any further." Wales patted the tank with pride. "They'll never see this coming."
---
"Oh hey." Scotland grinned, looking at the hijacked CCTV camera screens. "Look who's coming."
Northern Ireland, wrists strapped to a chair, yelled at his older brother. "Damn it Jim, wake up!" All he got was a rather pitying look from France. The boat they were on, floating on the Irish sea, rocked sideways with the wind, though none of the Nations were too bothered by it. Scotland got up from his seat, sweeping out of the room.
"Where are you going, cher?" France called after him.
"Got a play date with Artie, you watch North!"
The silence continued for a little while longer, before Éibhear made his third attempt that day in getting out of his restraints. Writhing and kicking and snarling, he managed nothing in the end, and slumped back, panting for breath and glaring at France. "I hate you."
France nodded tiredly. "I know."
"This is your fault."
"I know."
"We're all going to die like this."
"... I know."
"Can't you just... let me go?" Northern Ireland tried a different tactic, and pulled off the kicked puppy look very well, considering his situation. "Come on Francis, I know they've not done what they did to Jim to you."
France didn't look at him. "No. I'm not leaving him." a shuddering breath left him. "I got him into this mess, and I will get him out of it."
"Oh, very good answer France~!" North giggled, no longer himself. The room chilled and France shivered. "That's right, you can't just leave him like this can you~! That would make you even more of a coward than you already are, da?" Violet eyes sparkled with childish mischief. "Oh, and I am expecting America to contact us soon, so leave a channel open for him please~!"
The blonde Nation kept his face very carefully blank when he asked; "Russia, what have you done?"
A high giggle was the only answer he got. "Oh, and Poland says hello! Or he would if he could talk right now~ aahahahaha- gah..." Northern Ireland jerked forward, released from Russia's power, and blinked the green back into his eyes. "Graaaahh! I am not your fucking telecom Russia!!" he raged, struggling again.
France, meanwhile, felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach that was nothing to do with the rocking of the boat.
Notes:
- Polish-American Anti-Missile Defense deal - If anyone, and that does mean anyone, attacks Poland with the use of missiles or worse, nukes, America is obligated to step in and kick them out by using the same amount of force. It was implemented to protect Poland (who has like the worst luck ever) from any more attack. Because America and Poland are like totally besties.
- I feel an evil laugh is in order, because it's aaaaall downhill from here.
Part 38