Family Ties [Part 34]
Title: Family Ties
Characters (in this chapter): Norway, Denmark, Canada, America, England, Portugal, Ireland.
Rating: 12
Warnings: Swearing, but other than that... nothing. Wait, what?
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.
"Norge, left!" Denmark skidded through the mud to hide behind a farmhouse wall. Norway whirled around where he was and shot down three men. Spring made the ground slippery and slick with mud, but the northern Nations dealt with it as an advantage rather than an obstacle. The beginnings of summer had hardened the top soil into a deceptively easy terrain, though underneath still lay the thick mud that trapped heels.
"Thirty miles to the border, if we keep driving them back and then fortify the defenses-" Denmark was rambling, so Norway blocked him out.
"Where's Sverige?" he talked over his friend, the both of them running out from behind the barn and chasing down fleeing soldiers.
"With Finland, far as I remember. Holed up back in Helsinki with the kid." One of the few NWO left got brave and attempted to come up behind Norway with a hand-knife. "Duck!" the Dane grinned, wrenching out a wood-axe from a tree stump and tossing it at the soldier's head. With a loud thunk it landed, comically sticking out like some kind of novelty toy, as he fell backward. Norway didn't even bother to look.
Denmark pouted slightly. "I miss being able to do that. Though my axe was bigger."
The shorter Nation rolled his eyes signaling to one of his fairies to come over. "Inform England that we're almost at Imatra. If he can end the fight in the Baltic sea then he should do so." The fairy nodded, nipped the end of his nose affectionately, and flew off. "Stop giving me that look."
Denmark raised his hands defensively. "What look? I wasn't giving you a look."
"You were."
"If I was, would you believe me if I said it wasn't the one where I think you're crazy but instead I was checking out how hot you look with all that blood all over you and stuff?"
"No."
"Damn."
-----
Ah, this truly had been the best side of the war to choose to fight on, Portugal concluded.
"And that's when Mattie totally lost his shit!" America gestured wildly to the rest of the WDF, who looked on in varying degrees of amusement and annoyance. "He practically rips the hatch open and tosses like three men out to be shot by the rest of the squad and then there's this one dude who had a gun, but Matt just takes the gun out of this guy's hands and starts beating the ever lovin' shit out of him!"
Canada flushed, embarressed. "It wasn't that cool-"
"All he did was run over a beaver in his tank and bam! He unleashed the infamous Canadian Hockey Rage!" Alfred pulled his brother into a headlock and gave him a playful noogie.
"Ow ow ow! Get off!"
"Oh geez, he's going for me next!"
"If you're done, America." Arthur interrupted, though Gabriel could see the telltale signs that his husband was enjoying this a lot more than he thought he should be. Just the slightest crease around the eyes, the very firm set of the lips so he wouldn't smile. "We do in fact have other things to discuss in this meeting."
Pouting, America released his brother and sat down. "You're such a kill joy Iggy."
"Go play with Brazil if you want to mess around." England said dismissively, sifting through papers though not actually looking for anything. Honestly, the airs he would put on. It just made him all the more adorable. "I need to call up India and see how she's getting on. Fortifying borders and stockpiling weapons won't be enough to keep the NWO out for long."
"Hey, at least that thing with Finland's nearly over with." America pointed out. "Man, I'm such a hero."
"You did bugger all to help with that one. It was my naval ships that were the real help."
"Like hell, my stealth ops were super awesome."
"Thirteen men does not equal the might of an entire fleet."
"Does when the thirteen men kill two hundred Russians on the first week."
"Alright, let's not fight." Portugal cut in before things could get out of hand. England was already on his feet and restrained from going to smack America because of the firm grip Portugal had on the back of his shirt.
Ireland entered through the back door, shaking her hair out from where it had been piled on top of her head under her pilot helmet. The summer sun highlighted all the stray strands that stuck to the visor. "What's up?"
"They're arguing over who did the most work in the fighting in Finland."
Ireland grinned. "Me. There, argument over."
Nobody seemed to want to argue with her when she was wielding her helmet like she would throw it at the first nay-sayer. Instead, Canada sniggered quietly and left the room, shaking his head, while Portugal tugged on England's shirt to make him sit back down.
"Back to discussing other things." the Iberian Nation began, tapping a few things on the keyboard to bring up a map. "Brazil's been trying to get Peru, Bolivia, Chile and so on to at the very least fund the war effort. Many are already crossing the borders to sign up to the Brazillian army as it is, though the government refuses to comment." He sighed slightly. "My brother is similarly undecided, as ever."
"We appreciate whatever you can do for us, Gab." England said, laying a hand on Portugal's in an attempt at comfort. Out of the corner of the dark haired Nation's eye, he could see America bristle. Oh, so that's how it was. He smiled.
"I'll try my best for you, amor." A quick kiss on the forehead, and America went red.
"I've finished developing the hand-held-sun bomb thingies." he said pridefully. "They're all tested and ready to go. I'll give your guys some too, Iggy."
England blinked. "Well, that's probably a good idea. Jolly good then."
America beamed, then sent a sly smirk at Portugal when England's back was turned. Portugal returned it.
Oh it was on now.
Notes:
- Sorta like a mini-time skip here. It's now about end of May, start of June.
- Imatra is a city in Finland, quite close to the Russian border. I don't actually know if it's 30 miles exactly or not but whatever, I can't find maps that accurate.
- Ships, what ships I see no ships I swear this is still not a shipping fic you guys- ah, who am I kidding?
- Light hearted chapter for you. <3 It won't last.
Part 35
Characters (in this chapter): Norway, Denmark, Canada, America, England, Portugal, Ireland.
Rating: 12
Warnings: Swearing, but other than that... nothing. Wait, what?
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.
"Norge, left!" Denmark skidded through the mud to hide behind a farmhouse wall. Norway whirled around where he was and shot down three men. Spring made the ground slippery and slick with mud, but the northern Nations dealt with it as an advantage rather than an obstacle. The beginnings of summer had hardened the top soil into a deceptively easy terrain, though underneath still lay the thick mud that trapped heels.
"Thirty miles to the border, if we keep driving them back and then fortify the defenses-" Denmark was rambling, so Norway blocked him out.
"Where's Sverige?" he talked over his friend, the both of them running out from behind the barn and chasing down fleeing soldiers.
"With Finland, far as I remember. Holed up back in Helsinki with the kid." One of the few NWO left got brave and attempted to come up behind Norway with a hand-knife. "Duck!" the Dane grinned, wrenching out a wood-axe from a tree stump and tossing it at the soldier's head. With a loud thunk it landed, comically sticking out like some kind of novelty toy, as he fell backward. Norway didn't even bother to look.
Denmark pouted slightly. "I miss being able to do that. Though my axe was bigger."
The shorter Nation rolled his eyes signaling to one of his fairies to come over. "Inform England that we're almost at Imatra. If he can end the fight in the Baltic sea then he should do so." The fairy nodded, nipped the end of his nose affectionately, and flew off. "Stop giving me that look."
Denmark raised his hands defensively. "What look? I wasn't giving you a look."
"You were."
"If I was, would you believe me if I said it wasn't the one where I think you're crazy but instead I was checking out how hot you look with all that blood all over you and stuff?"
"No."
"Damn."
-----
Ah, this truly had been the best side of the war to choose to fight on, Portugal concluded.
"And that's when Mattie totally lost his shit!" America gestured wildly to the rest of the WDF, who looked on in varying degrees of amusement and annoyance. "He practically rips the hatch open and tosses like three men out to be shot by the rest of the squad and then there's this one dude who had a gun, but Matt just takes the gun out of this guy's hands and starts beating the ever lovin' shit out of him!"
Canada flushed, embarressed. "It wasn't that cool-"
"All he did was run over a beaver in his tank and bam! He unleashed the infamous Canadian Hockey Rage!" Alfred pulled his brother into a headlock and gave him a playful noogie.
"Ow ow ow! Get off!"
"Oh geez, he's going for me next!"
"If you're done, America." Arthur interrupted, though Gabriel could see the telltale signs that his husband was enjoying this a lot more than he thought he should be. Just the slightest crease around the eyes, the very firm set of the lips so he wouldn't smile. "We do in fact have other things to discuss in this meeting."
Pouting, America released his brother and sat down. "You're such a kill joy Iggy."
"Go play with Brazil if you want to mess around." England said dismissively, sifting through papers though not actually looking for anything. Honestly, the airs he would put on. It just made him all the more adorable. "I need to call up India and see how she's getting on. Fortifying borders and stockpiling weapons won't be enough to keep the NWO out for long."
"Hey, at least that thing with Finland's nearly over with." America pointed out. "Man, I'm such a hero."
"You did bugger all to help with that one. It was my naval ships that were the real help."
"Like hell, my stealth ops were super awesome."
"Thirteen men does not equal the might of an entire fleet."
"Does when the thirteen men kill two hundred Russians on the first week."
"Alright, let's not fight." Portugal cut in before things could get out of hand. England was already on his feet and restrained from going to smack America because of the firm grip Portugal had on the back of his shirt.
Ireland entered through the back door, shaking her hair out from where it had been piled on top of her head under her pilot helmet. The summer sun highlighted all the stray strands that stuck to the visor. "What's up?"
"They're arguing over who did the most work in the fighting in Finland."
Ireland grinned. "Me. There, argument over."
Nobody seemed to want to argue with her when she was wielding her helmet like she would throw it at the first nay-sayer. Instead, Canada sniggered quietly and left the room, shaking his head, while Portugal tugged on England's shirt to make him sit back down.
"Back to discussing other things." the Iberian Nation began, tapping a few things on the keyboard to bring up a map. "Brazil's been trying to get Peru, Bolivia, Chile and so on to at the very least fund the war effort. Many are already crossing the borders to sign up to the Brazillian army as it is, though the government refuses to comment." He sighed slightly. "My brother is similarly undecided, as ever."
"We appreciate whatever you can do for us, Gab." England said, laying a hand on Portugal's in an attempt at comfort. Out of the corner of the dark haired Nation's eye, he could see America bristle. Oh, so that's how it was. He smiled.
"I'll try my best for you, amor." A quick kiss on the forehead, and America went red.
"I've finished developing the hand-held-sun bomb thingies." he said pridefully. "They're all tested and ready to go. I'll give your guys some too, Iggy."
England blinked. "Well, that's probably a good idea. Jolly good then."
America beamed, then sent a sly smirk at Portugal when England's back was turned. Portugal returned it.
Oh it was on now.
Notes:
- Sorta like a mini-time skip here. It's now about end of May, start of June.
- Imatra is a city in Finland, quite close to the Russian border. I don't actually know if it's 30 miles exactly or not but whatever, I can't find maps that accurate.
- Ships, what ships I see no ships I swear this is still not a shipping fic you guys- ah, who am I kidding?
- Light hearted chapter for you. <3 It won't last.
Part 35