Prompt: England Smacking Sealand

AN: The idea for this oneshot came about when I was talking to my lovely friend, Karen-chanOVERDRIVE, about England smacking Sealand. I forget how we got on such a topic, but it was too good to waste, so here's what became of it.

*OC Alert!*
Yes, I used my Svalbard OC [link] (please don't kill me!), but you get to see how each family interrelates.

It's a little rough, but it isn't historical fact (so basically, it's all fluff and crack), so don't take any of this seriously. I only wrote it to provide some entertainment to some poor soul that actually likes this kind of stuff. (*cough*me*cough*)

Characters belong to Hidekaz Himaruya
Idea, OC, and Writing (c) Kayo Miugi 2011

Please, enjoy~! ^^


It was a calm and peaceful day in the British Isles; not a cloud in the sky from Scotland all the way to Jersey, which is quite rare, for the British Isles are known for the near constant rain. Arthur was sitting at home in his study, reading over a few things from today's NATO meeting. Currently, his son, Peter, was over for his monthly visit, since Arthur still had some custody over the boy, whether he or Peter liked it or not. Arthur finished his reading without a single interruption, which is quite rare as well when the boy was around. Getting up from his chair which sat behind his mahogany desk, Arthur looked out the massive stretch of windows that ran along the entire wall of his study. Not seeing Peter playing out in the back yard, Arthur grumbled, having to go off in search for the troublesome and quite rebellious boy.

Arthur looked into every room in his house (even the ones that are hard for him to even peek at, such as Alfred's), yet he found Peter nowhere. With a sigh, Arthur stumbled into the kitchen and made himself a pot of tea, taking a mug of it out into the garden, where he resumed his search. He had a suspicious feeling that he was being tricked by young Peter; possibly he was waiting until Arthur left the house and would lock him out, or go ransacking through Arthur's personal library or worse, Arthur's study.

By the time dusk rolled around, Arthur was getting very worried. He finished all of his tea and searched every square centimeter of his property, yet Peter couldn't be found. He staggered back inside and began making supper.

"This should lure the boy out, you know" Arthur said to Captain Hook. "I'm sure he's just famished."

Arthur was getting the ingredients together when he suddenly realized something; a very large and very important something. He forgot to look in the basement. In a blink of an eye, Arthur had thrown off his apron and was hurrying through the hallway, pausing only for a second to swing open the door. He took three steps at a time downwards into the stone basement; which is quite rare, seeing that he does have somewhat short legs. At the foot of the stairs, the sight that met Arthur's eyes was jaw dropping. He saw Peter performing a conjuring spell as a purple fog rose from the ground, looming over the two nations. Arthur was more shocked at the fact that Peter actually had an interest in Black Magic than the fact that Peter had snuck into one of the "Restricted Rooms" of the Kirkland manor. Catching only fragments of the utterances coming from the young boy, Arthur shocked quickly turned to horror upon realizing what spell Peter was performing. He was conjuring something so evil, so terrifying, that no demon could ever compare to it. The fog began to swirl, orbiting the center of the circle that was drawn into the smooth stone floor. Arthur watched in fear as Peter finished the spell, expecting the worst to come next. A bright flash of light sent the two to the ground, covering their eyes. Out of the floor and from the smoke rose none other than Ivan himself. Unexpectedly, the smoke began to sparkle and Bjørg emerged from thin air. Peter looked up and whined.

"I only wanted Bjørg! I wanted her to take me home!" He threw a mini tantrum.

"So you're saying," Arthur stood up and brushed the dirt from his trousers. "That you came down here and messed around with my stuff to conjure Miss Morozov to bring you home to Berwald and Tino." Arthur glared daggers at Peter, who only shrugged them off.

"Yes. That is exactly what I wanted!" Peter pouted, looking up at his father.

"Peter," Bjørg murmured, stepping out of the ring." I do believe that wasn't the smartest thing to do." She knelt down to look him in the eye. "Now you're going to make Berwald and the rest of them very worried when they see that you have come home early and quite swollen." Peter cocked his head to the side, confused at what she meant by "swollen". Ivan let out a low chuckle, raising goose bumps on Arthur's arms. Arthur cleared his throat.

"Yes, your cousin is right. You will be quite swollen." Arthur grabbed Peter by the middle and dragged him up the stairs, with the Russian siblings following close behind. As the realization sunk in, Peter began to squirm and shout, trying desperately to get out of the Englishman's clutches.

"Bjørg! Oh, Bjørg! Help me." With a sigh, she shook her head.

"Peter, when it comes to punishment and torture, I'm not the one to give the puppy dog pout to, sorry." A sweet smile came to her lips. Desperate, Peter tried again.

"Ivan, please."

"No. Everyone needs a good beating every now and then." A creepy smile appeared on Ivan's face. Bjørg smacked him on the arm so hard that Arthur cringed as her hand made impact with the Russian's arm.

"Ow. Why did you do that, sister?" With a little 'hmph' Bjørg turned her head from her brother.

"B-but…" Peter let out a whimper.

"No buts, Mister," Arthur threatened.

"Did you ever get smacked, Arty?" Though a flush came to his cheeks, Arthur responded,

"Yes, when I was a young child. Mother Britannia is a strong and harsh woman, so she wasn't shy when it came to a good smacking on the bum. Be lucky that you weren't raised by her."

"So that's why you're so mean!" Peter shrieked. Another low chuckle came from Ivan to harmonize with the tinkling of Bjørg's laughter. "What about you, Bjørg?" Peter unintentionally spat.

"I never was spanked." Arthur stopped in his tracks and turned to face her.

"What do you mean 'never'?" Arthur and Peter said simultaneously, turning to glower at each other afterwards.

"I never was. If you remember correctly, I was left alone for most of my childhood, in which nations like you, Arthur, murdered my whales and other animals!" A pout was clear on Bjørg's face. Arthur let out a loud sigh.

"How many times do I have to say I'm sorry, Bjørg?" Bjørg 's words flew like knives into Arthur's chest.

"Until the day I can no longer hear the Winter winds." Peter giggled. With all of the sudden attention, Arthur turned back around, blush deepening in color and continued into the kitchen. Bjørg walked to the stove and finished up the supper while Ivan went to get a large wooden spoon. He placed it on the table for Arthur and plopped down in a wooden chair at the matching table in the center of the room.

Peter began struggling again, but was soon stopped by Bjørg taking him from Arthur's arms. Shocked, all watched as she placed the small nation onto her hip, like a mother does to her child.

"Bjørg? Just what are you doing?" Arthur questioned sternly.

"Shall we dance, Peter?" With a giggle, Peter nodded his head and off the two went, spinning 'round the warm kitchen. Ivan laughed at the two children, but his smile fell as Bjørg heaved Peter onto his father's lap and Bjørg fell against the counter trying to catch her breath. "God, he's heavy!" Ivan chuckled from his seat. Arthur's brows came together as he fumed at Bjørg's sudden childish behavior. She went back to the stove and continued making supper.

"I am still a child after all, Arty," she teased with a smirk, not bothering to turn from the stove to see Arthur's grimace at the word, 'Arty'. Peter laughed at Arthur, but soon became terrified once more as Ivan handed Arthur the spoon.

Arthur gave ten hard lashes on Peter's rear, making him cry out in pain.

"Wait until Berwald hears about this!" He screamed once his lashings are done.

"Oh, he will," Bjørg said. "From me, then you will get ten more lashings from Matthias." Peter's eyes widened in fear.

"N-never mind…" Peter said, lowering his head. Arthur saw a tear hit the wooden floor. With a sigh, he stood up and opened the jar of lollies and gave it to Peter.

"Eat after supper now, unless you wish for Bjørg to give you some lashings." Both joy and fear were written on Peter's face, but joy quickly won.

"Thank you, Arthur," he said with a smile, running to his chair for dinner.

"What is for dinner?" Ivan asked with a bright and cheery smile on his face.

"Borscht," Bjørg replied sweetly, placing a steaming bowl in front of Peter. "Now I want you to eat all of it, young man, you hear me?" her voice suddenly turning cold, sending Winter's breath through the room. Peter nodded. Obviously it wasn't his day.


FN:
Wondering what Borscht is? Here's what Wikipedia says: [link]