Hey! It is 12:42 PM 27 August 2011! Continuing!
If you are continuing from "Miproe", thank you very much for doing so! *bows*
This arc will focus quite a bit on America, but it will probably be like "Miproe", where it deviated to another character, pairing, and arc.
This is the "Reapers" arc. It starts off quite nicely.
Notes:
America has been retrieved.
Feliciano is with our Nation friends.
Everyone is kind of freaked out by that shadowy figure that killed the demons.
Since one reviewer got annoyed with the random ass languages, I will refrain from most of the random languages. Sorry for those of you that enjoyed them, but that shot me down. I can take criticism, but criticism over something that doesn't seem like that big of a deal... Well, to me, it wasn't. I've seen more languages in other fanfics, but oh well...
There are other beings besides Notions, though they don't share the same responsibilities of taking care of Nations as the Notions do. Be prepared for strange continuity.
If someone hasn't seen the Captain America movie yet, THERE IS SOMETHING OF A SPOILER!
Notes are done. Let's get started!
EDIT: 7:04 PM 3 October 2011: At around 4:30 this afternoon, I was writing more of this story. About 5 minutes ago, I lost what I had typed.
Colonial Love 4, the original of this chapter, all gone... I think I have anxiety issues. I also lost one doujin that I got today, but that can be recovered, but I am now severely, SEVERELY PISSED OFF. I tried getting my other 57 files (which included other files, such as homework, pictures, and other things that I loved), but to no avail.
SHIT.
Please accept this means of escape for my emotions.
Prologue
Little Alfred played in the snow, his rump firm against the frozen ground. It was white and clean and so lovely.
He smiled over at his parents.
Arthur came over. The seven-year-old sat down next to his three-year-old brother and they made a miniature snow fort.
"Very good."
Alfred and Arthur both looked up and smiled.
"PAPA!"
But of course.
Papa reached for Arthur and Alfred.
Mama came out with two mugs of hot milk with chocolate in it.
She made sure that Arthur wouldn't burn himself with his drink.
Not with Alfred, though he never burned himself.
Papa kissed Alfred's cheeks, with little praises of how proud he was of his little prince.
Whenever his own magic turned Alfred into a girl, Papa would call him his princess and dress him up so pretty that Alfred would go to his big brothers and they would play around, saying that one of them would marry her when she was a big girl. Arthur would yell and say that Azrael and he would stay together so that they would always have each other.
Mama gave kisses to Arthur's cheeks, let Arthur try on her things when he was a girl, sang to Arthur...
So did everyone else...
Arthur was loved.
He was perfect.
That's what Alfred couldn't understand.
Why did Arthur care about him so much?
Chapter 1: Day Care
Alfred blinked the sleep from his eyes, grabbing onto a nearby source of warmth.
The warmth sighed and so America pulled away, pouting and crying out quietly when he was stopped mid-motion.
He looked at his captor. He recognized the pale face.
England, asleep, looked quite peaceful, his face empty of any stress that he normally showed. He looked youthful, somewhat angel-like. Immediately, it made Alfred think of his biological brother, Arthur.
He hummed quietly to himself.
"... America..." England said in his sleep.
'England's cute when he wants to be,' thought Alfred.
"Did you wet the bed again...?"
… Scratch that.
America struggled out of England's hold, rolling away and off the bed, landing on his rump. He pouted. Arthur, from what little memories he had, was always like this. He would always hold his hand when they walked together, try to keep him away from anything dirty...
He was Arthur's little doll, his perfect angel.
…
And then...
…
He ruined everything.
America shook his thoughts away with shaking his head. No! He had received a new life, from Merciful God, and he would do right by this.
He would definitely be Arthur's hero this time for sure.
Even with that black shadow inside of his body.
He would be the world's hero.
He stood, ignoring the pain in his back, and went to put clothes on, a simple outfit of shorts, suspenders and a white dress shirt.
I'm hungry.
"Don't worry. Me, too."
Feliciano rubbed his eyes, removing the sleep from them. He wondered why he woke up so early. Clad only in his pants and underwear, he cuddled closer to the German that took up most of the space in his bed.
Ludwig looked... calm... Not angry, like Feliciano remembered him being a lot of the time.
Yes, Feliciano had gaps in his memories too. Just like Uriel, his guardian Notion, had told him he would have.
He was glad that he remembered Ludwig... He was happy.
A knock came at the door. A small knock.
"Buon giorno?"
Feliciano saw the door open. In came Alfred, his eyes round, aware, and bright.
"Good morning."
Feliciano clambered off of the bed, leaving the nice warmth of the tall blond to grab his small shirt from last night and slipped it on. The "Repubblica veneziana 1861" showed itself proudly on his shirt, letting him recall the last time that he was independent from his brother.
1861.
"Wanna help me make breakfast?"
"Va bene~"
Canada rubbed his eyes, trying to get the sleep to leave them. An arm slipped down from around his chest and down to his waist as he sat up. Grabbing his glasses, Mathieu looked down at Francis, smiling.
It had been after the Third World War. France and Canada had begun a romantic relationship, a committed relationship. Almost unprecedented for Nations, as it did not secure any political, economic, or industrial ties.
However, one day, France decided that they had needed to clear something up first.
"... Canada... I have to tell you something. Something important."
"Yes?"
"... I had... relations with your brother..."
"...like "sexual" relations?"
"Oui."
"Oh." Canada swallowed. "Is that why you're with me, because I look like-"
"No! Non, mon amour, non... I still saw you as my Canada, mon petit enfant... When you grew up... I tried so hard not to see you that way, to see you as the beautiful man you are. It's like a father resisting an adopted daughter's beauty... It's difficult." A gentle kiss to his lips and Canada felt, rather than saw, because his eyes were closed, the Frenchman's head rest on his shoulder.
"I want to devour you, Mathieu. I want to keep you with me for eternity... America was my quick replacement for you..." Canada was shaking. Alfred was taking his place? France thought of him when he had sex with America?
"Did he know?"
"He was aware..."
"... but?"
"... mais, il... He thinks himself disgusting. When we would copulate, he would ask me if I thought of him as a quick fix, an easy fuck, a prostitute... He would cry, Canada, that people loved you much more than he... He's so alone, Canada..."
Canada pondered. "... So you would have sex with him in order to help him with that and Alfred would have sex with you to keep you from jumping me..."
"Yes."
"Vous êtes bête." You are an idiot.
Kisses never seemed so sweet.
"We'll help America... If he's like that, we'll fix it."
Life never seemed so easy.
The smell of maple syrup interrupted Mathieu's daydream. He got dressed, as he had taken a shower last night to get the grime and blood off of him, and headed downstairs.
Mathieu stared at the two children making breakfast.
"Wow... Pancakes."
"Nom!"
"Buon giorno~!"
Gilbert came down in loose pants and a regular t-shirt. He could feel the love bites under his shirt, hidden but burning. Russia had wanted to do slightly naughty things last night.
"Vanya." The harsh whisper excited Ivan very much.
"Hmm?" He giggled, licking the milky skin that was so warm unlike his own. He could hear the rapid heartbeat of the one beneath him.
"Don't."
"Why?"
Annoyed eyes, that were blue in this lack of light strangely, stared at his own. "What happened to America today... I can't..."
Vanya smiled sadly. "It happened to me as well. The Mongols..." His violet eyes grew dark, but he smiled wider. "I'm happy that you are mine... and that I am yours, Gilbert."
Prussia smirked. "Of course. If you belong to me, you are blessed."
That earned him marks that would last for a while.
He moaned, neither being so aroused that they would need to finish each other off. "I'm tired, Russia."
"Sleep, podsolnechnik."
He yawned, seeing that the others were getting up and following him down. "Guten Morgen!"
"Good morning."
"Bonjour~"
"Ohayo gozaimasu."
Russia came out smiling, as though he was still dreaming. "Good morning, Prussia."
Everyone was alerted by a small crash in the kitchen. All of the Nations ran down stairs, rushing quickly as they were very concerned about a certain little American.
"Mathieu! I want to make the pancakes!"
"No, Alfred."
"Mateo, can you help me make the tiramisu?"
The Nations came face to face with two children and a twenty-year-old on the floor, faces down. The two North Americans and Italian began to laugh.
"Matt! Pancake!" Canada laughed, picking America up as Alfred began to repeat the words in a youthful frenzy. "Why aren't you making pancakes if I can't?"
"I'll make them, just calm down." America giggled, loving how his brother was holding him.
"Ve~ Buon giorno, fratello!" Italy ran to his brother and smiled so happily that Romano just picked him up and began to ask him things in Italian, like how he got there, when he got there, and where did he sleep, receiving answers like, Uriel brought him, he got there very late at night, and that he slept with Germany.
The countries took places in the kitchen, mixing things, cooking, though Arthur was given the task of taking care of Alfred.
Arthur sat in the living room, watching Alfred play with some of his toys, little Jacob's ladders and blocks arranged into a castle with bridges and little toy people that began to move around the castle.
"Arthur, play with me please."
Arthur got down from his seat on the couch to sit on the floor, noticing that Alfred was smaller than him even when they were sitting down on the carpet. "What are we playing?"
Alfred pouted for a moment. "I'm just playing." His little toy prince came up to the princess' tower and and began to kiss her hand with Alfred providing little kissing noises. He stood up and began to put the toys away.
"I thought you wanted me to play with you, America." England chuckled lightly, but stopped when he saw Alfred, after putting the toys in a box and putting them in a corner of the living room, pull a box from a little locked cupboard of the entertainment center where the American's television was. It was the box that he had made. The box he had broken his arm for.
America brought the box and sat next to England, beginning to open it. Out he pulled little soldiers. They were simplistic; spheres for heads, cylindrical bodies and hats. Arthur froze and was slow in taking one soldier from the child in front of him.
"You be Colonel... Um... Beelz! Beelz!" Alfred said excitedly, coming up with a random name for Arthur's character, then looking to his own. "I'm Foot Soldier... Robert Sands!"
Arthur just looked at the toy soldier, stroking the painted wood. It was repainted, he could tell. With delicate strokes of a horse hair paintbrush, the little toy was redecorated and appeared to be handled well, considering that it was rather old for a toy. Over four hundred years old already.
"Alfred," Arthur whispered. Oh God, was his voice breaking? "How long have you had this?"
"Since forever!" Alfred smiled. "I love it and all the other soldiers a lot!"
"May... May I ask why?"
Alfred pouted again, thoughtfully. "You gave them to me, and I love you lots! I love anything you gave me!" Alfred smiled. He looked down at his "foot soldier."
He held it up to Arthur's "colonel." "'I missed you a lot, England,' is what America wants to say. He says, 'I always missed you and I wanted to you come visit me. I love you lots, England, more than anyone else.'"
Arthur just stared. That was how America felt? This entire time?
"England wants to say," Arthur began. "'I missed you, America.'" He swallowed. "'I missed you so much and I'm sorry that I didn't see you more often.'" The wetness in his eyes had to be dust from the box. It was so old and dusty and-
"England... are you crying?" Alfred was touching the other's cheeks, the tears coming off on them and leaving their salty mark on his little fingers.
Arthur just sat, unresponsive. His America had always loved him, had never ever wanted him to leave... But that was a lie. America had hated him, wanted him to leave.
"England wants to ask if you're telling the truth," Arthur said mechanically, moving his soldier to Alfred's. The words just came out of his mouth instantaneously. Whether he had meant to say them, it no longer mattered. He had said what had begun to plague his mind when Alfred had brought out the box of wooden soldiers.
Alfred pouted, this time in sadness. "Yes, yes I am. America loves you lots. A lot, a lot." He forgot his soldier on the floor. He crawled over to England's lap and sat there, his body against England's torso because he was very small. His arms couldn't even fit all the way around the other to give him a good hug. He was too small to do that, but he nuzzled the other's chest and hummed softly. "America loves you a lot. He never forgot you and he always wanted you to come back, but you never did."
Arthur felt his own chest getting wet and he looked down. Alfred was gazing up at him, fat pretty tears falling into the Briton's shirt after coming out of his eyes, living on his cheek in a curve, and dying as they fell off of his chin. He swallowed. "Really, now?"
"Yes." Alfred was so serious and almost exasperated, but almost as though he had always wanted to say these words. "America loves you so much," he said, reaching up a bit with his body. Arthur felt the little source of warmth and love in his lap move and suddenly little kisses were given to his cheeks, taking away some of salty liquid from his skin. He shivered a bit, feeling nostalgic from the kisses, the love, the hugs... He was loved again... And he loved being loved...
England held the child to his body, forgetting his own toy soldier, and began to give kisses to the child's forehead, his hair, anything on his head. Anything that would remind him that this was real.
This America loved him and he cared about him and wouldn't leave him.
He was happy.
"Igirisu-san?"
"Angleterre, Etats-Unis, why are you two crying?"
England and America turned to see France and Japan looking at them with concern. The two, still hugging each other, stood up and now America was in England's arms, held securely.
"Is breakfast ready?" England asked, America hiding his face in the older man's shirt in embarrassment.
"Oui, we have crêpes, pancakes, some stew, eggs, sausage, and some cakes," France explained.
"I'll go get your plates ready," Japan said, going back to the kitchen with a pale blush on his cheek.
England began to walk towards the bathroom, America in his arms, in order to wash his face. "We'll go to the lavatory."
France watched England's back as the younger nation walked with his former colony in his grasp. Regret.
Breakfast was uneventful, only with Alfred having dropped some syrupy pancake on the floor and Arthur helping him clean it up.
After the meal, Alfred asked if they could all watch Captain America, a 2011 film. Some of the nations went to take a nap, while Alfred, Arthur, Mathieu, Francis, Kiku, and Yao watched the movie. The remaining nations, Prussia, Russia, and Germany, went out to buy some groceries, as they had gone through quite a bit of food that morning. The child was so into the film, holding a little Captain America action figure in superhero poses and cheering when Steve Rogers gained super strength from the German doctor's formula and became the Captain, when Steve would save the Allied soldiers. He booed when Johann Schmidt, the villain, attacked the American.
And he was very quiet when Steve Rogers and the British character Peggy Carter were together.
"Tu es très silent, non, Amerique?" Francis asked, surprised by the child's silence during those parts. They were romantic and sentimental, nothing a child could fully grasp.
"The English lady is very pretty and Steve likes her. We have to be quiet." Alfred put his finger to his lips and then turned his attention back to the screen.
"Do you like the English, America?" Mathieu said, already knowing the answer, but never having heard it from the American as an adult, he was curious.
"I love England lots!" Alfred said smiling and then rushing to climb into Arthur's lap. The Briton wrapped his arms around the child and smiled.
"Let's keep watching the film, cariad."
Kiku smiled at the affection that the Brit was showing. He felt a pang of jealousy.
"There you go, Riben! Some dumplings for you-aru!"
"Arigato... Gege...
"You're welcome, didi!"
The Japanese man leaned unconsciously against Yao, who didn't move, as it wasn't a major bother to him anyway.
The film went on, Alfred's cheers and boos very quiet to please his caretaker.
At the end of the movie, Alfred had tears going down his face that went unnoticed.
"Why don't the American and English lady live happy ever after?"
"What?"
"Nuffin..."
Feliciano and Lovino lay on the bed in the guest room that the older Italian and his lover were staying at. Spain was already deep into his nap, Lovino cuddling Feliciano in between their larger bodies. Lovino and Feliciano began to talk.
"Fratellone?"
"What, Feli?"
"Do you love me?"
Lovino stared down at his brother. His amber, almost golden honey, eyes were gazing up innocently at the older one. His curl was moving gently as Lovino and Antonio were breathing in and out.
"Of course, I do, fratellino." He kissed the child's forehead. "Ti amo cosi tanto."
Feli smiled. "I'm so happy, fratello!" He yawned, snuggling against his brothers' bodies. "Ti amo, Lovino." He turned to Antonio, whom he gave a kiss to on the cheek. "Te amo, Antonio."
The child fell asleep.
Lovino stared at the ceiling.
1861
"I hate you, Feliciano!" He spit blood out onto the floor.
Veneziano stood above him. His eyes were cold, but hurt was apparent. "Fratello... I know you do."
Another pain went through Romano as the siege outside continued. "I fucking hate you..."
The northern Italian lowered his head. "Uriel... please... Fratello. I was only doing what Uriel told me to do."
"Who the fuck is that?"
Veneziano smiled, getting onto his knees in front of his captive brother. "Uriel is a wonderful angel, an angel that will restore the Italian Empire to glory, one day."
One day...
'Dio mio.' Lovino sat up.
He recalled seeing a person that seemed to have wings...
Hitler kissing their hand...
Angelic, chaotic face...
Uriel had started WWII.
Alfred sat outside. Everyone had gone to sleep with a late lunch/early dinner to fill their bellies. He swung on his hammock and looked up to the moon.
The moon was so pale and pretty. He loved it. It reminded him of his brothers.
Gabriel, Simiel, Orifiel... Michael...
Then it reminded him of England.
The one he gave his all for.
Alfred shivered and turned a bit, unfolding a quilt that he had brought out with him. Covering himself, he snuggled in towards himself.
Daddy... I wonder where you are right now. I bet you are somewhere nice and cold... Yeah...
I miss you...
He fell asleep, never noticing in his slumber of the cold-lipped kiss that an apparition gave him on his forehead as he slept.
16 November 2011 – 6:24 PM
1) Yeah... Alfred''s mother didn't really connect with him, or any of her children. Alfred's dad adores him. I hope I can represent that clearly.
2) The use of Arthur, England, and brother are separated by Alfred. I'm going to have to start calling Arthur by his Sanskrit or his Angel name...
3) Please keep in mind that this has USxUK in it. Or UKxUS... Either one.
4) "Repubblica veneziana 1861" - As mentioned in Miproe, the Unification of Italy took place in 1861. When I was in Italy this summer in Venice, I saw many signs that said "Repubblica veneziana 1861-2011". A lot of my friends were confused and I told them that the major cities of Italy used to be little republics, like Venice was. I'm guessing that it was to have a little Republic State of Venice.
5) GASP. RELATIONSHIP! Franada! I picture their relationship would be seen from France's perspective almost as pedophilia, considering he raised Mattie. Mathieu has had feelings of some nature and they have grown over time. The father and adopted daughter metaphor came from another fanfic from another fandom that I loved. Oh, my YuGiOh days... *tear*
6) PRE-ESTABLISHED RUSSIA X PRUSSIA! Podsolnechnik – Russian - Sunflower
7) Uriel - (namesake of Notion of Potential/Instruction) - Archangel of Light, Light of God; God sent Uriel to question the prophet Ezra
I made Uriel Italy's guardian, just like Azrael (Alfred) had been England and China's guardian at some point, because of Italy's happiness being a light for his allies. This was proven by the Hetalia movie, but that stuff never happened in this fanfiction.
8) America and England... (sigh) Touching moment between the two tsunderes, yes? Or a tsun and yan? Who knows? ;)
9) Igirisu = Japanese = England; Angleterre, Etats-Unis = French = England, United States (of America)
10) CAPTAIN AMERICA KICKS ASS!
11) Riben = Chinese (not sure if Mandarin or Cantonese) = Japan; Gege = Chinese = Older brother; Didi = Chinese = Little brother
12) Uriel, being the Notion of Potential, helps the growth of empires. He seized a chance with the Third Reich.
13) Gabriel, Sifiel, Orifiel – Michael and Azrael's older brothers. They are Spirits, personifications of (respectively) Protection, Teaching, and Care.