Title: A Plan That's Bound to Work
Author: TechnoGlitter
Rating: T
Characters/Pairings: France, Russia, America, Belarus, Lithuania, Latvia, Estonia, Estonia/Latvia. BelLiet, Russia/The World
Warning: Swearing, physical abuse, freakish OOC-ness, stalking, I think there's a drug or two in here, lots of vodka, REALLY bad Belarusian and Russian translations
Disclaimer: I am not Hima-papa-san-tousan-chan; therefore I do not own Hetalia.
Notes: It looked really awkward up there in parentheses, so I'm putting it here. Latvia is of age in Estonia, but not Latvia. But since Estonia is 17, the law states that since Estonia is under 18, Latvia is technically of age in this situation, since he's 15 and the law "allows" intercourse between someone under 18 (like a 17-year-old) and someone who's 14 or 15, or at the very least does not punish them for it. But then again, none of this really matters because A: They don't have sex in the story. The relationship is mentioned once. and B: They're actually hundreds of years old. Their human age is just a meaningless number based on their physical apperance. Now that that shit-pile has been tamped down, enjoy the story~!
"It's simple, Russie. You just have to make her stop wanting you," France explained, nursing his usual glass of Pinot noir.
"Well, I know that, it's just that I don't know how to. She scares me France, and she keeps saying she wants to become one with me!"
France, deciding that this was possibly the only chance he'd ever have, told the truth many countries had lied about. "Then you know how all of us other countries feel."
"What?"
"Well, you constantly terrify us, and demand to become one with us. The only difference is that you horrify more than one person, unlike your dear Belarus."
"Oh…" Russia stared down at the floor, his face still-terrifying-but-also-sad-in-a-very-Swedish-way-that-makes-you-want-to-hug-him.
"But that does not matter now Russie, you still need help taking care of your homicidal bow-wearing little problem!" An almighty crash turned both heads in the direction of France's ruined south-facing wall. An obnoxious America was standing in a pile of rubble with a miniature plunger in hand, the kind used in cartoons to blow up dynamite. "Hey guys, what's up?"
"We're just trying to find a way to get my sister to stop trying to kill me with her love. Also, does it scare you when I say I would like to bring the entire world under my control?"
"Oh, you mean BELARUS? And yes, it terrifies me. To the point where I almost shit in my hero-pants every time you open your mouth, Russia."
"Don't say my name; she'll know I'm here!" A resounding crash from France's east-facing wall announced the insane Eastern European's arrival.
"BRAT, ZA MIANIE ZAMUŽ!! STAŃCIE ADNYM SA MNOJ; NIASUĆ MAJE DZIECI, KACHAJ MIANIE ŽADAJUĆ MNIE MIANIE! BRAT, ZA MENYA ZAMUZH! STANʹTE ODNIM SO MNOĬ; NESUT MOI DETI, LYUBI MENYA HOTYAT MNE MENYA! BROTHER, MARRY ME! BECOME ONE WITH ME; BEAR MY CHILDREN, LOVE ME WANT ME HAVE ME!" Belarus screamed, first in Belarusian, then Russian, then finally English.
"NIAMA! NET! NO! NIKOLI! NIKOGDA! NEVER! OTOĬDITE OT MENYA VY EGOISTICHNY UZHASNO MONSTR! ADYDZIECIE AD MIANIE VY EHAISTYČNYJA ŽUDASNA MONSTAR! GET AWAY FROM ME YOU SELFISH HORRIBLE MONSTER!" Russia screamed similarly, in Belarusian, Russian and English.
"NIKOLI! JA NIKOLI NIE ADPUSCIĆ VAS, NAVAT KALI ND VYBUCHAJE I VYBUCHAJE SUSVIETU! JA LIUBLIU CIABIE STAREJŠY BRAT, ČAMU VY CHOČACIE STAĆ ADNYM Z USIMI, ALIE MNIE? NIKOGDA! YA NIKOGDA NE OTPUSTITʹ VAS, DAZHE KOGDAVS VZRYVAET·SYA IVZRYVAET·SYA VSELENNOĬ! YA LYUBLYU TEBYA STARSHIĬ BRAT, POCHEMU VY HOTITE STATʹ ODNIM SO VSEMI, NO MNE? NEVER! I WILL NEVER LET GO OF YOU, NOT EVEN WHEN THE SUN EXPLODES AND THE UNIVERSE IMPLODES! I LOVE YOU BIG BROTHER, WHY DO YOU WANT TO BECOME ONE WITH EVERYONE BUT ME?" One of Belarus' many, many, many knifes was inching its way towards Russia's face in a way she found loving and everyone else found murderously horrifying.
"JA DUMAJU, JA PAKINUŬ PIEČ DOMA NA, MAHLI B VY DAVOLI PIERAJDZICIE ADKLIUČYĆ JAHO DLIA MIANIE? YA DUMAYU, YA OSTAVIL PECHʹ DOMA NA, MOGLI BY VY DOVOLʹNO PERYEĬDITE OTKLYUCHITʹ YEGO DLYA MENYA? I THINK I LEFT MY STOVE AT HOME ON, COULD YOU PRETTY PLEASE GO TURN IT OFF FOR ME?" Russia screamed, leaning away from the knife and trying not to cry.
"ŠTO - NIEBUDŹ DLIA VAS, STAREJŠY BRAT! DA SPATKANNIA! CHTO-NIBUDʹ DLYA VAS, STARSHIĬ BRAT! DO SVIDANIYA! ANYTHING FOR YOU, BIG BROTHER! GOODBYE!" Belarus ran to the Eastern hole and kicked down a couple more feet of wall before running away while laughing insanely. Russia looked quite traumatized, as he had pulled an empty vodka bottle out of his coat and was sucking on it while murmuring to himself and rocking back in forth in a little ball.
"Oh my god," France said.
"That was horrifying," America agreed. Russia burst into tears.
"Which is why I need help, da? I don't want to live like this! If someone gets her to leave me alone, I'll stop saying that all will become one with Russia! I'll try my best to stop being scary! Please just help me!" Russia cried. America and France looked at each other.
"Compose yourself Russie, then we will talk seriously," France said calmly, swirling the now-dusty wine in its glass as he usually did. The tall man wiped away his tears with glove-covered hands and looked around for another chair to sit in. The one he was sitting in previously had broken under the pressure of his mad scramble to escape from Belarus.
"Even though I didn't understand most of that… 'conversation,' I am still the country of l'amour, so I obviously know everything about it. I think I know a way to get Belarus-"
"HEY! I just remembered something! In a bunch of my sitcoms, there's this kid who obsessed with someone else. And so the other person is all like 'Get bent, Kid!' But Kid never listens. So Someone Else pretends to be all obsessed with Kid, and then Kid doesn't like it and leaves Someone Else alone! If it works on T.V., it has to work for you Russia!" America shouted.
"Do you really think so America? Belarus does not seem like a person who would do that."
"Trust me Russia, I'm a hero! I'm here to save you."
"Um...okay." Russia could already tell this was a bad idea.
But surprisingly, he was wrong. Yeah, I know, shocking! But true. The first time he tried America's plan, it kind of worked.
"Okay Russia buddy, what you have to do is act like you actually do love Belarus. Like she's vodka-drenched sunflowers in a vodka distillery in a sunflower field in a really warm place. You have to act like you like her that much," America explained. They were in a sunflower field, because this was apparently the best place to arrange such a meeting.
"But I love vodka and sunflowers, and not Belarus! I can't do that!" Russia shouted, somewhat distracted by the sunflowers around him and the two cups of vodka in his veins.
"Well then, I guess I'll just randomly start destroying these sunflowers because your unwillingness to cooperate makes me that angry," America threatened. He turned around to face the plants, a lighter in one hand and a sickle in the other. His head turned to Russia; he cut down three flowers and calmly lit them on fire. He raised an eyebrow while Russia looked on in terror and anger.
"You horrid monster. I will go along with your plan, but the second we're alone, you won't look so fierce, da?" Russia threatened back, an ominous purple aura and his favorite blood-stained pipe faucet rising around him. He was interrupted by his insane sister tearing down the road in some expensive sports car.
"BROTHER? RASIJA, DID YOU REALLY WANT TO MEET WITH ME? THAT'S WONDERFUL! WHEN SHOULD I SET THE WEDDING DATE?"
"What happened to that whole crazy Belarusian-Russian-English-screaming thing?" America asked. Belarus waved him off with a scoff and a black-gloved hand.
"It's simply a formality," Belarus snarled, not even looking at the subject of her disrespect.
Russia, shaking in his boots, decided to redirect the conversation. "I... uh... wanted to see you Belarus. It's been a while since we j-just talked, and sometimes,… I… uh… miss… ... … you." Belarus straightened immediately, pulling a well-loved knife out of her boot.
"Well, that's a lovely thing to say, but it would mean more if I could be sure you were my brother. WHO ARE YOU AND WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH MY BROTHER?"
"I assure you Bela, it's me!"
The girl roared terrifyingly. "Russia has never called me 'Bela!' Nor does he seek me out, he understands our little game, I like hard-to-get! When is my birthday?"
Russia floundered for a moment "Uh, it's some 25th, da?"
Belarus let out a shriek of anguish and fury. "WHICH ONE?"
Russia started sobbing, as he usually did around his younger sister. "I DON'T KNOW, I TRY TO AVOID YOU ON ALL OF THEM! MARCH, I THINK!"
"MY RUSSIA WOULD NEVER KNOW THAT!" America chose this moment to pipe up.
"But shouldn't it be the 25th of September? That's when you got independence from him," America said, referring to Russia's days as the Soviet Union, even though everyone had just called him Russia.
Belarus, now very into the habit of making loud noises to express her anger, let out a very long breath through her nose, the bridge of which she pinched in a very British manner. "Why on EARTH would I celebrate being APART from my BIG BROTHER?"
America nodded like he understood Belarus' incestual tendencies. "I apologize, carry on." Russia stared pathetically at the other superpower, and America felt a little bit bad for his last two words. The colder nation was lying on his stomach in from of Belarus, who was pressing her foot down on his head with surprising force and metal-studded combat boots.
"What… is my favorite color?" Belarus asked coldly, pressing down more when the violet-eyed nation under her boot whimpered.
"Isn't it žoŭty?" Russia blurted, glancing at the sunflowers around him. Belarus made yet another high shrieking noise, as if she had just been shot.
"YELLOW IS RUSSIA'S FAVORITE COLOR, SO OF COURSE IT'S MINE! YOU ARE A FILTHY IMPOSTER; MY BROTHER THINKS MY FAVORITE COLOR IS BLACK!" She threw her knife into the ground dangerously close to Russia ear, and ran off.
"I WILL FIND YOU, BROTHER DEAR, AND WHEN I DO, I WILL COME BACK AND KILL THIS IMPOSTER FOR YOU!" She screamed, jumping into her car and driving off at a speed that defied all laws of physics.
America helped Russia up. "So, um…-"He was cut off by two very cold, very enthusiastic kisses to his cheeks.
"She left! SHE LEFT! You were right, Amerika, thank you! Thank you so much! " Russia squealed (not in a manly way, mind you, more like an excited teenage girl).
America shook his head. "Don't get too excited Russia, you'll need one more encounter at the very minimum to fend her off for good. I trust in my leader, the Great T.V. and this is what he says."
"Aah. Well, we'll just have to wait until then, da?" Russia picked up the blue-eyed American and tossed him over his shoulder. "Now, where did we put that helicopter?..."
A month later (the best month of Russia's life, if you asked him), Belarus came back. She had apparently looked (literally) all over the world for her darling brother, and had not found him. She broke into Russia's house by kicking down his door and burning it, then throwing a smoke bomb into the kitchen. It was apparently one of her own design, because Russia and the three Baltics, who had been having a surprisingly docile conversation over tea when they had come to visit, had vivid hallucinations before passing out.
When everyone came to in Russia's unfinished basement, Russia was tied to a chair by an astonishing amount of rope, and the Trembling Trio was on the floor, tied together by a similar amount of rope. Belarus was wearing an elaborate skin-tight leather cat suit and stiletto boots ("Leedu, stop drooling! It's getting all over my shirtsleeve!"), and caressing a rusty, blood-stained knife. When she saw her four captives awake, she turned away to pull something out of a duffel bag, which was sitting on the floor (Seriously Lietuva, stop drooling! You're going to drown us all!).
"Well now, seeing as my target and sacrifices are awake, I guess the interrogating will start," Belarus murmured, slowly turning around to face her captives. At the word 'sacrifices,' the Baltics did what they did best, and started to shake in tandem. Feeling the vibrations through the floor, Belarus threw a book in their general direction.
"Ow! Damn it, now my glasses are broken," Estonia complained, the book having come at him from the side and knocked his glasses off his face.
"Shut your insolent mouth Estonija, you're not the one I want to hear talk. And don't you ever swear around me again, or I'll sic Zniščennie on you." Estonia shivered harder.
"No. Not that cat, ANYTHING BUT THAT MONSTER!" he screamed. The cat was perfectly named, destruction (especially of body parts) being the very essence of its existence.
"DO NOT SULLY MY BABY'S GOOD NAME IN FRONT OF MY FACE!" Another book, this time a thinner hardcover, smacked Estonia across the face. Latvia nudged him with an elbow and gave him a meaningful look that translated to something along the lines of 'Shut the hell up, do you want to be killed?'
"Now, I have had a busy month. I've been all over the world, talking to horrible people in stupid languages and eating disgusting food and staying in awful dumps undeserving of the name 'hotel' in search of my big brother. Despite my polices' and my best efforts, I have been unable to find him. I admit, you've outsmarted me, SO TELL ME WHERE HE IS!" Belarus ranted, pressing a knife into Russia's neck at her last words. Remembering America's carefully planning, he tried to be as gooey and lovey as possible.
"But Bela-Wela darling, I AM Russia! Why won't you accept it?" Russia cooed, hearts in his eyes and the air around him, bile in his throat.
"Because I know my brother! My brother is not a… kind, loving, thoughtful, stupid man," Belarus said, spitting out her words like poison. Russia ignored her, choosing instead to hum a tune. A tune that made Belarus very, very, angry.
"THAT ISN'T SUPPOSED TO BE A ROMANTIC SONG!" she screeched. Russia still ignored her and started singing, trying to push her even farther.
"I love Belarus, got it deep inside!"
"I love Belarus, feel it in my mind!" Latvia joined in because he thought it was a catchy song.
"And I wanna see the sun shining from above," So did Estonia, but because he liked the beat and the music.
"You will always be the one, I can't get enough!" And Lithuania started singing because he actually did love Belarus.
Belarus shrieked and pulled away, kneeling close to the shivering men on the floor. She untied their hands, and gave each one a knife. They looked utterly confused and very scared. She positioned the knife the way she wanted them, leaning down far too low in front of poor Lithuania and giving him a massive nosebleed ("Great, now we're going to drown in his blood AND saliva!").
"If you don't tell me where my future husband is, I will force Latvija and Litva to stab each other to death while Estonija watches. Then, I'll kill him just for fun." The three nations started sobbing, as was expected of them.
"I'm not stabbing a teenager to death!"
"Sure, I don't like him that much, but I don't want to kill him!"
"Why do I have to be the one she kills? Wait-" Estonia and Lithuania both turned to Latvia as best they could.
"What?" Latvia said, pink around the ears. Lithuania pouted.
"Do you really not like me? I thought you liked me more than Estija, you told me so yourself!"
"Hey!"
"Don't listen to him Igaunija, I never said that!"
"Yes you did, you told me that night after you wet the bed at Russia's house-" Lithuania said cluelessly.
"NO I DIDN'T!" Latvia wailed. Belarus picked up a table and threw it against a wall, where it exploded into splinters. The squabbling trio ignored her to continue their squabble. She sighed, and turned back to Russia. "Now then, tell me where he is."
The Russian took a deep breath, then put on the stupidest, happiest face he could muster. "But I'm right here Bela-Wela, don't you want to marry me? MARRY ME, SO OUR SOULS WILL BE BONDED AS ONE FOREVER! LET ME HAVE YOU BABIES, BELA-WELA, MAKE ME YOU LOVE SLAVE FOR THE REST OF ETERNITY!" Russia screamed, rocking back and forth in his chair and using every ounce of his willpower not to throw up. His former subordinates stopped their fighting to look over at their former master.
"My my, you really want me to think you are my Rasija? THEN STOP LYING TO ME!" Belarus yelled.
"But it is only I who can love you with the fire of a thousand suns, Bela! NO ONE ELSE!"
Lithuania piped up. "I resent that! I totally love her with the fire of a thousand powerful suns, or whatever."
"Oh my god, you're starting to sound like Polijā!" Latvia said.
"Now that he mentions it, I can absolutely see that." Estonia mused. Lithuania had an odd mixture of shock and discontent on his face. Belarus, clearly at the end of her rope, pulled a sniper rifle out of her top and pointed it at the three countries.
"With one shot, I can and will BLOW THEIR HEADS OFF, because YOU ARE ALL MAKING ME SICK WITH YOUR LIES AND PETTY ARGUMENTS!" Russia laughed darkly.
"You think that you can intimidate me by threatening them? You are so cute, Bela-Wela, they can't be killed," that signature purple aura rising around the trapped man,"You have no idea what I've done to them, to make them stronger and better than you." Belarus took this as a challenge. She shot Lithuania in the foot. He swore loudly, and the insane blonde stared in shock as she realized that the bullet had barely entered his flesh. She smacked him across the face with the barrel of the gun for swearing within her earshot.
"See? You can't hurt them, so by extension, you can't hurt me. It's all very simple, da? Now, please let them go Natasha, as they've done nothing wrong."
"Affection? Compassion? Pet names? Where is my Rasija? HE MUST STILL BE ALIVE, HIS HOUSE IS STILL HERE. But then, who is this man? He looks like my brother, sounds like him, and sometimes acts like him. But, if he's really my brother, that means…" The gun dropped to the floor with a loud clang, as her hands were shaking too hard to hold on to it. She grabbed her knife out of Latvia's hand, and cut the not-brothers loose. Estonia marveled at the stupidity of them not cutting themselves loose ten minutes earlier.
"I… guess you love me now, big brother. B-but, I can't love you, because you do. It's the thrill of the chase, the fear in your eyes, the adrenaline that I love. And if you aren't scared anymore… you're worth nothing to me," Belarus mumbled in a shock. She turned sharply to the nations still untangling themselves.
"Litva!"
"Yes?
Belarus walked over to him, and smashed her lips to his. "You are mine now, and no complaining or I'll kill you." She hoisted the larger man onto her shoulder and stomped up the stairs. Lithuania had a dreamy, idiotic look on his face as he mouthed the words 'thank you so much' in Russia's direction.
"Wow," Latvia said, staring at the door.
"Lucky bastard won the bet." A knife whizzing past Estonia's head signaled to the countries in the basement that Belarus and Lithuania were still in the house. A dull yell entered through the door.
"Next time I won't miss, Estonija, and my darling Zniščennie will be attached too!" A loud bang and excited male giggling ended the woman's threat.
"Well, this was a lovely experience and all, but the overwhelming need to either vomit or celebrate is getting stronger and stronger. Could one of you please untie me?" Russia asked politely. Latvia and Estonia looked at each other warily before untying the terrifying nation.
And so, Lithuania and Belarus were pretty happy for the rest of their lives, Lithuania being a total masochist for any pain Belarus put out, and Belarus being a total sadist because she was awful that way. Estonia and Latvia got together because it's cute, and Russia got an entire harem of nations, because why choose just one when he could have them all?
DEIREADH NA BLIANA.
Those are probably the worst translations you've seen in a long time, so I'd be glad to take any better ones. This ended up way differently than I expected, but I actually really like it. This was the most fun I've had writing in a really long time. And I do not own the epic song that the boys sang, but it is the catchiest song ever. Hungary totally deserved to wi-/shot for possibly igniting a fight about Eurovision Politics-I mean-Singing Contest.