[fic fill] That Little Devil
TITLE: That Little Devil
AUTHOR/ARTIST: chromatic_coma
RECIPIENT: lumossolarum
CHARACTERS/PAIRINGS: England, America, France, OC
RATING: K/G
NOTES (optional): This fic is told from the point of view of an original character
SUMMARY: When one of England's younger fairy friends tags along to a world meeting, England's enemies are in for a bit of trouble.
That Little Devil
When England sleeps, he snores. Really, really loudly.
A lot of the fairies really don’t like the sound, because it makes their ears ring and gives them headaches, but my ma and I don’t mind it very much. We think it’s helpful, since at least we’re sure the Great Nation is asleep.
Who am I, you ask? My name is Cadeyrn, and I’m a young fairy (though ma insists that I’m an imp in disguise. I have no clue why, it’s not like I get into that much trouble). I’ve been living with England for almost two hundred years now, and my ma for nearly six hundred! She and I and the rest of the fairies who live here spend most of our time helping England with the things he needs to get done… or at least, we used to.
See, after the Second World War (whatever that means; ma won’t tell me anything about it) England started getting all these strange electromatronic-thingers that flash with pretty colors, and they’ve been helping him with a lot of his work. They also make some of the older magic folk feel sick, so mostly now our job is to cheer England up when he’s not feeling well.
Officially, anyways. Don’t tell England, but we’ve decided that-
-“Hey, hey, he’s awake!”
“Oh, what a relief. I thought he was going to be late!”
“Late?” Cadeyrn echoed, putting his journal (not a diary; those were for sirens and sprites) back in his satchel and looking up at his mother. “Late for what, ma?”
“He’s got a World Meeting this afternoon. Fortunately it’s in London this time, but-“
“London? But that’s here! That means I can go, right?”
“What? Of course not! You’re to stay here with me today, Cadeyrn. We’ve got to start preparing for the changing of seasons.”
Cadeyrn frowned, kicking at the dust under him on the bureau. “Come on, ma, I did that last season! You said the next time there was a meeting here I could go. Remember?”
The look on his mother’s face told him that she did remember, and that she really didn’t want to.
“Well, now I’m saying that you’re to stay here. So, go on, wash up and hurry back so you can help make the garlands.”
Huffing, Cadeyrn took off for the tap, only to find that England was still in the bathroom. He made a turn to go down to the kitchen which is where he spotted it.
England’s briefcase, lying open on the dining room table. It would be so easy for him to slip into one of the smaller pockets and hide out in there until England opened the case again in the meeting room. The nation certainly wouldn’t mind; he loved to play with the young fairy. And Cadeyrn’s mother wouldn’t miss him that much…
Nodding to himself, the boy flew straight into the open case and hid himself between a heap of papers and a legal sized envelope.
At which point, the young fae promptly fell asleep.
--
When Cadeyrn awoke, it took him a moment to figure out where he was. The room was chilly, and noises of humans (though they didn’t feel like humans) filled his sensitive ears all at once.
When he poked his head out of wherever he was, he found out two things: he was sitting in England’s pocket, and he was in the middle of a very large meeting of Nations.
I made it! He realized gleefully, fluttering out of England’s pocket (careful not to disturb his arm and alert the man to his wakefulness) and floating to the top of the room. There were multiple large tables, all arranged like half circles around a podium in the middle.
Cadeyrn turned his attention to the Nation up front. He was larger than England, both in height and around his tummy. His hair was a dirty shade of yellow, and his eyes were as blue as the sky. He’d seen this man in pictures before, and he’d heard England use all the dirty words in the world about him, too.
It was America.
Oh, wouldn’t England be delighted if Cadeyrn embarrassed America in front of the whole world? Then he would be amused and happy and he wouldn’t be stressed like he always was after meetings!
Zooming up behind America, Caderyn clung tight to the man’s jacket hood, struggling under the weight of the leather but finally managing to swing it up over the Nation’s head. As planned, it sagged over his head and the furry lining brushed over his eyes.
America paused mid-word, crossing his eyes to look at the tufts of faux fur in his face, and Cadeyrn sat on his hooded head, pleased with himself. A moment later, however, America had shaken the hood off, sending Cadeyrn back into the air.
It was moments like these that the young fairy wished he’d had his full powers. He would have zapped America’s face until the other broke out in rainbow splotches, or maybe he would have puffed the other up like a giant balloon and flown him around the room (oh wait, someone else beat him to that…).
With intensified vigor, Cadeyrn pulled the giant hood back over the other’s eyes, and he body slammed into the Nation’s shoulder with all his strength for good measure.
America huffed, murmuring a soft “What the hell?” that made Cadeyrn grin from ear to ear, but then he flipped the hood off again.
Cadeyrn, of course, pushed it back on and stomped on America’s head angrily.
“America! Stop fooling around!” England snapped, beating a Nation with slicked back blond hair to the punch. Cadeyrn froze, letting America pull the hood back off and whine, “But I didn’t do anything!”
“Oh, certainly, and that blasted hood keeps on flipping itself, then?”
“Yes!” Caderyn snorted at America’s desperate tone, but when England glared sharply in his direction (his, not America’s), he quieted quickly and fluttered up to hang out on the rafters in the ceiling.
When he looked back down at England, the fairy caught sight of France’s arm around England’s neck; trying to calm him, apparently. But Cadeyrn knew this Nation, and he knew that England abhors France…
So he decided he’d tease this girly man next.
As he fluttered down from his perch, Cadeyrn knew he had to be careful. Not only was he going to be right next to England, but he’d heard stories about a time, before he was born, when France could see magical creatures too.
He nestled himself in between the fabric of France’s deep blue collar and the pale skin of his neck. Giggling, he took off his cap and brushed the feather from the top against the sensitive skin tucked underneath the Frenchman’s blond hair.
France shivered, hitching his shoulders and shaking his head slightly. Cadeyrn sniggered and repeated the gesture, delightedly floating away when the large hand came to swat at him. Especially when France ended up slapping his own neck.
Cadeyrn, however, wasn’t done yet. He fluttered around France and continued his act of tickling the other all over his face. The result was most satisfactory; the Frenchman began to swat in every which direction, slapping himself quite often and attracting the attention of many nations in the process.
“What are you up to, frog?” England snapped sharply, and Cadeyrn smirked.
“Oh, don’t mind me. I’m just taking care of a minor issue…”
England snorted. “Figures a fly would be buzzing around you. You probably haven’t showered in weeks.”
France looked appropriately insulted, but before he could finish the blond nation with the gelled hair gave both men a look and cleared his throat sharply.
Cadeyrn beamed as he flew back up to rest in the rafters, pleased with the job he’d done. That would teach those guys for messing with England!
--
The meeting dragged on for a few more hours, during which Cadeyrn grew incredibly bored. He’d slipped back into England’s pocket and fallen asleep, only to awaken when he was jostled as he stood.
“I know what you did, Cadeyrn,” he murmured, and the fairy’s ears quirked, a flush spreading across his face.
The fairy laughed sheepishly, “Did it make you happy?”
“It’s not polite to interrupt an important meeting-“
“But did it make you happy?” The fairy repeated, more forcefully.
England sighed, unable to keep a smile off his face.
“I suppose I’d be lying if I were to say it didn’t. But that doesn’t give you permission to do it again, alright? These men, as insufferable as they may be, are Nations and should be treated with respect.”
“Aww, are you sure?”
England chuckled; “Quite so, I’m afraid.”
“Well, alright. I promise not to mess with any Nations ever again…”
“Good boy. Come along then, let’s get you home. Your mother must be worried sick…”
Cadeyrn sighed, resting back into the man’s pocket as England started for his flat. Chuckling softly, he uncrossed his fingers and nestled into the cool fabric lining.
After all, what England didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.
End
--
I hope you enjoyed the fill, lumossolarum ♥
AUTHOR/ARTIST: chromatic_coma
RECIPIENT: lumossolarum
CHARACTERS/PAIRINGS: England, America, France, OC
RATING: K/G
NOTES (optional): This fic is told from the point of view of an original character
SUMMARY: When one of England's younger fairy friends tags along to a world meeting, England's enemies are in for a bit of trouble.
That Little Devil
When England sleeps, he snores. Really, really loudly.
A lot of the fairies really don’t like the sound, because it makes their ears ring and gives them headaches, but my ma and I don’t mind it very much. We think it’s helpful, since at least we’re sure the Great Nation is asleep.
Who am I, you ask? My name is Cadeyrn, and I’m a young fairy (though ma insists that I’m an imp in disguise. I have no clue why, it’s not like I get into that much trouble). I’ve been living with England for almost two hundred years now, and my ma for nearly six hundred! She and I and the rest of the fairies who live here spend most of our time helping England with the things he needs to get done… or at least, we used to.
See, after the Second World War (whatever that means; ma won’t tell me anything about it) England started getting all these strange electromatronic-thingers that flash with pretty colors, and they’ve been helping him with a lot of his work. They also make some of the older magic folk feel sick, so mostly now our job is to cheer England up when he’s not feeling well.
Officially, anyways. Don’t tell England, but we’ve decided that-
-“Hey, hey, he’s awake!”
“Oh, what a relief. I thought he was going to be late!”
“Late?” Cadeyrn echoed, putting his journal (not a diary; those were for sirens and sprites) back in his satchel and looking up at his mother. “Late for what, ma?”
“He’s got a World Meeting this afternoon. Fortunately it’s in London this time, but-“
“London? But that’s here! That means I can go, right?”
“What? Of course not! You’re to stay here with me today, Cadeyrn. We’ve got to start preparing for the changing of seasons.”
Cadeyrn frowned, kicking at the dust under him on the bureau. “Come on, ma, I did that last season! You said the next time there was a meeting here I could go. Remember?”
The look on his mother’s face told him that she did remember, and that she really didn’t want to.
“Well, now I’m saying that you’re to stay here. So, go on, wash up and hurry back so you can help make the garlands.”
Huffing, Cadeyrn took off for the tap, only to find that England was still in the bathroom. He made a turn to go down to the kitchen which is where he spotted it.
England’s briefcase, lying open on the dining room table. It would be so easy for him to slip into one of the smaller pockets and hide out in there until England opened the case again in the meeting room. The nation certainly wouldn’t mind; he loved to play with the young fairy. And Cadeyrn’s mother wouldn’t miss him that much…
Nodding to himself, the boy flew straight into the open case and hid himself between a heap of papers and a legal sized envelope.
At which point, the young fae promptly fell asleep.
--
When Cadeyrn awoke, it took him a moment to figure out where he was. The room was chilly, and noises of humans (though they didn’t feel like humans) filled his sensitive ears all at once.
When he poked his head out of wherever he was, he found out two things: he was sitting in England’s pocket, and he was in the middle of a very large meeting of Nations.
I made it! He realized gleefully, fluttering out of England’s pocket (careful not to disturb his arm and alert the man to his wakefulness) and floating to the top of the room. There were multiple large tables, all arranged like half circles around a podium in the middle.
Cadeyrn turned his attention to the Nation up front. He was larger than England, both in height and around his tummy. His hair was a dirty shade of yellow, and his eyes were as blue as the sky. He’d seen this man in pictures before, and he’d heard England use all the dirty words in the world about him, too.
It was America.
Oh, wouldn’t England be delighted if Cadeyrn embarrassed America in front of the whole world? Then he would be amused and happy and he wouldn’t be stressed like he always was after meetings!
Zooming up behind America, Caderyn clung tight to the man’s jacket hood, struggling under the weight of the leather but finally managing to swing it up over the Nation’s head. As planned, it sagged over his head and the furry lining brushed over his eyes.
America paused mid-word, crossing his eyes to look at the tufts of faux fur in his face, and Cadeyrn sat on his hooded head, pleased with himself. A moment later, however, America had shaken the hood off, sending Cadeyrn back into the air.
It was moments like these that the young fairy wished he’d had his full powers. He would have zapped America’s face until the other broke out in rainbow splotches, or maybe he would have puffed the other up like a giant balloon and flown him around the room (oh wait, someone else beat him to that…).
With intensified vigor, Cadeyrn pulled the giant hood back over the other’s eyes, and he body slammed into the Nation’s shoulder with all his strength for good measure.
America huffed, murmuring a soft “What the hell?” that made Cadeyrn grin from ear to ear, but then he flipped the hood off again.
Cadeyrn, of course, pushed it back on and stomped on America’s head angrily.
“America! Stop fooling around!” England snapped, beating a Nation with slicked back blond hair to the punch. Cadeyrn froze, letting America pull the hood back off and whine, “But I didn’t do anything!”
“Oh, certainly, and that blasted hood keeps on flipping itself, then?”
“Yes!” Caderyn snorted at America’s desperate tone, but when England glared sharply in his direction (his, not America’s), he quieted quickly and fluttered up to hang out on the rafters in the ceiling.
When he looked back down at England, the fairy caught sight of France’s arm around England’s neck; trying to calm him, apparently. But Cadeyrn knew this Nation, and he knew that England abhors France…
So he decided he’d tease this girly man next.
As he fluttered down from his perch, Cadeyrn knew he had to be careful. Not only was he going to be right next to England, but he’d heard stories about a time, before he was born, when France could see magical creatures too.
He nestled himself in between the fabric of France’s deep blue collar and the pale skin of his neck. Giggling, he took off his cap and brushed the feather from the top against the sensitive skin tucked underneath the Frenchman’s blond hair.
France shivered, hitching his shoulders and shaking his head slightly. Cadeyrn sniggered and repeated the gesture, delightedly floating away when the large hand came to swat at him. Especially when France ended up slapping his own neck.
Cadeyrn, however, wasn’t done yet. He fluttered around France and continued his act of tickling the other all over his face. The result was most satisfactory; the Frenchman began to swat in every which direction, slapping himself quite often and attracting the attention of many nations in the process.
“What are you up to, frog?” England snapped sharply, and Cadeyrn smirked.
“Oh, don’t mind me. I’m just taking care of a minor issue…”
England snorted. “Figures a fly would be buzzing around you. You probably haven’t showered in weeks.”
France looked appropriately insulted, but before he could finish the blond nation with the gelled hair gave both men a look and cleared his throat sharply.
Cadeyrn beamed as he flew back up to rest in the rafters, pleased with the job he’d done. That would teach those guys for messing with England!
--
The meeting dragged on for a few more hours, during which Cadeyrn grew incredibly bored. He’d slipped back into England’s pocket and fallen asleep, only to awaken when he was jostled as he stood.
“I know what you did, Cadeyrn,” he murmured, and the fairy’s ears quirked, a flush spreading across his face.
The fairy laughed sheepishly, “Did it make you happy?”
“It’s not polite to interrupt an important meeting-“
“But did it make you happy?” The fairy repeated, more forcefully.
England sighed, unable to keep a smile off his face.
“I suppose I’d be lying if I were to say it didn’t. But that doesn’t give you permission to do it again, alright? These men, as insufferable as they may be, are Nations and should be treated with respect.”
“Aww, are you sure?”
England chuckled; “Quite so, I’m afraid.”
“Well, alright. I promise not to mess with any Nations ever again…”
“Good boy. Come along then, let’s get you home. Your mother must be worried sick…”
Cadeyrn sighed, resting back into the man’s pocket as England started for his flat. Chuckling softly, he uncrossed his fingers and nestled into the cool fabric lining.
After all, what England didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.
End
--
I hope you enjoyed the fill, lumossolarum ♥