Past-Part Fills Part 7
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Past-Part Fills Part Seven
Fills from past parts can go here!
Fills from the current part (part 22) MUST go in that part's post until it is full.
Link to the original request (and if an ongoing fill, any previous chapters/sections).
Don't forget to link your new fill at the fill ( Read more... )
Laughing, the fairies flew higher, keeping the book just out of reach as Tony jumped (unsuccessfully) for it again, nearly colliding with England this time. Swearing at the startled Englishman in his native language, Tony took off after his floating book, shrieking at the laughing fairies while the book disappeared around the corner and down the hall.
Tony was so engrossed in the chase that as soon as he rounded the corner after the escaping book, he barreled straight into America.
“Whoa, easy there, buddy. Did England threaten you or something?” he asked, steadying Tony before stepping back to scrutinize Tony. “He didn’t hurt you or anything, did he?”
… yes and no. “No, there were fairies that took my book!” Tony snapped, frustrated that for once, he couldn’t pin this crime down on England.
America sighed, straightening up. “Do not tell me you’re into fairies too,” he groaned, running a hand through his hair. “Of all the things to rub off England and onto you, it had to be the stuff about the fairies.”
If this had been a movie or a story instead of reality, Tony knew that the audience could guess the only word that Tony actually registered: England.
That was when he noticed the book floating above America’s head. “They took my book!” he blurted, pointing straight at the book.
Confused, America turned to his right, and then looked to the left. But not up. Tony swore he heard faint laughter from the fairies as they carefully kept an eye on America, ready to move the book out of view in the off chance he actually looked up. Hands balling into fists, Tony could only watch in growing anger as America sighed and looked down at Tony, worry filling his eyes.
“Tony, fairies aren’t real. Either England is just messing with you like he does with me, or the two of you have been fooling me all along and since you’re actually friends, you both decided to pull a prank on me. Which one is it?” America asked, placing his hands on his hips.
“You think I’m friends with that -------- limey??”
“No! Sorry, sorry, my bad, I was just hypothesizing!” America yelped, jumping back despite his advantage in size and height. Grinning, he suddenly asked, “Can you translate that word you just used into English? I don’t know what you said in your language, but it sounded like a good swear…”
Tony face-palmed. Of course America would be sidetracked so quickly. Tony could still see his floating book drifting lazily down the hall, and even though he couldn’t quite see the fairies from this distance, he was absolutely sure they were mocking him now. They would probably put his book in a hard-to-reach place just to spite him, especially since they were working for or with the limey.
“No,” he said crossly, and then stepped around America in order to continue pursuing his stolen book.
America just shrugged and kept walking.
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It took him five minutes to coner the fairies in the guest bedroom, slamming the door shut behind him. Cackling to himself, Tony clambered onto the bed, carefully watching the fairies as he found the flyswatter that America had accidentally left behind on the windowsill. This was going to be the end of this complete nonsense…
He struck at the same time the fairies did.
To his credit, Tony managed to keep his yelps to himself and not give the fairies any kind of satisfaction. Their spells and other magical attacks felt as though someone was trying to drive small needles into his arms and chest, but nothing absolutely disastrous (thankfully) happened. He didn’t know whether he got any of the fairies, but figured he didn’t when he saw the hole burned into swatter. Tossing it aside, he continued to fight as best as he could.
Unfortunately, he didn’t notice the fairies hovering above him with the book.
Thunk.
Tony, momentarily dazed, stared at the white ceiling as tiny faces swam in and out of the edges of his vision. He had no idea what the limey was playing at, the Englishman’s attacks so far had been more annoying than effective at driving Tony out of the house. On the other hand, England seemed more concerned with staying under America’s radar than bothering Tony…
Unless he was waiting for a particularly nasty prank from Tony, one that would catch America’s attention. Then he would play the role of the innocent, victimized bystander and then Tony would really get it.
Yeah, the English bastard would do that. It was a low blow from a sneaky man, but if America’s stories about England’s pirating days were true, then it wasn’t that far off of a guess.
He had less than of a second to realize that something cordlike had wrapped around his ankle and yanked him up into the air, leaving him dangling upside down as though a noose had caught his ankle.
“Oh, hello Tony. Just hanging around, I see.”
That was it. He was going to murder the Englishman, and enjoy doing it.
England came into view as the invisible rope twisted, turning Tony to face the island nation as the latter came to a stop beside the bed, surrounded by his precious giggly fairies. “Don’t worry, my dears, there will be plenty of opportunities for more fun later,” he said before focusing on Tony, who was forcing down a wave of nausea. “But first,” England finally said, “I believe we have some unfinished business to take care of first.”
Tony gulped when England looked directly at him before kneeling slightly so that they were eye to eye. He squirmed when England reached out for him.
Keeping his hand right below Tony’s head and just out of reach of flailing limbs, England said, “ Accio, keycard. ”
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“This morning taught me something Tony,” England said, examining the keycard. “Your power here is your workshop, something that America said you always lock whenever you have guests over. However, as touched as I am to be the exception, I would like to enjoy the rest of my visit without constantly worrying for my safety. So I am going to strip you of this power,” he said calmly, pocketing the keycard. He nodded briefly to Tony and said, “The spell should wear off in thirty or so minutes, which gives me plenty of time to work and for you to think about how you want the rest of the weekend to go.”
Then, as though he’d finished scolding a child, England promptly turned on his heel and walked out of the room, his fairy entourage following him out and leaving Tony hanging there.
That bastard!
In a fit of sudden rage, Tony let out an ear-piercing wail of anger, swinging as he futilely tried to undo his bonds… bonds that he couldn’t even see or feel since the damn limey used magic to tie him there in the first place.
His workshop! The damn, damn, limey was locking Tony out of his workshop! That … that was just inexcusable.
How dare he?
Tony silently vowed to make England’s life a living hell until he left.
Sunday afternoon couldn’t get here fast enough.
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*Leans forward and tapes the small crack in the fourth wall* Sorry about that ;)
England's magic: My headcanon has it that he doesn't always need a wand to perform magic.
Murphy's Law: What can go wrong will go wrong.
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Game isn't quite over yet though! ;)
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I love England's form of revenge. It's very subtle and straightforward. I guess England didn't see any need to be elaborate.
I love this fill. :)
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