Okay, so you'll have to bear with me on this story. I'm not sure how great this will turn out, but I hope you enjoy!
Summery: Kerstin, my OC, is sent to America by her Germanic parents. She's being forced to live with her uncle Ludwig, who has a mysterious secret, as does the rest of the house. Can Kerstin uncover the secrets, and live to tell the tale? And what's with the strange boy who seems to have captured her fancy? Why is he so withdrawn?
Warnings: Innuendoes from none other than the BTT and Alfred, mentions of smut from Gilbert, and country bashing from Kerstin. Oh, and Kerstin has quiet a potty-mouth, so everyone else just kind of uses theirs arond her.
Pairings: PruCan, FrUk, AmeRus, Oc/mysterious (I'm keeping it a secret until it happens ;])
I do hope you enjoy!
The last thing I expected to find out that day was that I was going to live with my uncle in America. Fucking America. Who the Hell wants to move to America, after living in Germany? Well, I can tell you that much; not me!
"Kerstin, get your ass out of your room, and come down here this instant!" My father yelled up the stairs, making me growl quietly under my breath.
"I'm coming, you good-for-nothing-asshat." I muttered, too quiet for him to hear. Then, louder, "I'm coming!"
I drug my suitcase down the stairs, purposely bouncing it against each and every step I could, just to agitate the idiot I called my father even more. The resounding bang it made only furthered my want for revenge for him making me move to the United States of Fucking America. (like what I did there? Oh, the hatred I'll get in that verdammt country!)
"Kerstin, stop being difficult, and get in the gottverdammt car." My father sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose with a sigh, and pointed towards the door with his free hand.
"Why do I have to move to America?" I demanded, not for the first time. I had mentioned it several times, but he always changed the subject. However, this time, I got an answer.
"Your mother got tired of your childish antics, and decided to send you to live with your uncle." He told me, his voice stoic. My grey eyes widened, and tears sprang into them.
"I supported you two. If childish antics means helping bring money into this household at any cost, fuck you!" I spat, my words thick with tears, and venom. "Good-fucking-luck with that now that I'm out of the picture. Maybe now, you'll have a kid that actually can be your shining star, huh?"
With that, I stormed out of the house, suitcase in hand, and jumped in the cab, telling him to step on it. I turned to look out the window, pulling my long, dirty blond hair into a ponytail, and finally let the tears out as the buildings of Berlin passed by. I was going to get out of there, and hopefully, things in Texas were going to get better.
League City, Texas was the most boring place I had ever seen in my entire life. I had landed in Houston—which was about forty-five minutes outside of League City—and already things looked awful. What the Hell was with all these horses, and cows? And why the hell was the guy picking me up driving a limo? I voiced such opinions in my German accented voice, but all I got was a raised eyebrow from the chauffeur, and he raised the window so he couldn't hear me. Real nice, ja?
"Damn Americans." I muttered, leaning back into the leather seats—I'm not going to lie; I was actually excited to be in a limo. Not that I would let that fact be known, though—with an exasperated sigh.
And so started the fun of watching the city, and then country, and then another city flash by. Eventually, I fell asleep. I mean, who wants to watch all of this for that long? Not this girl.
"We're here." The driver's voice cut through my sleep, and I let out a low grumble as I arrived in the land of the living.
"Gottverdammt dummkopf." I muttered, climbing out of the limo. We were outside of a large house—though that seemed like an understatement; mansion was more like it—with a little white wrap-around porch, and a pale blue paint job.
"Your uncle should be home soon." My chauffeur told me, tossing my bag and a key at me. I caught the latter, but the suitcase landed on my foot. Luckily, I had strong feet, and it didn't hurt. "Don't get into trouble, Kerstin."
"I'm not trouble." I growled, before swiftly turning around and storming up to the house. Once inside, I threw my stuff down to the left of the door, kicked my shoes off, and went into the living room to curl up and sleep until my uncle—whom I had never met before—appeared. Sleep came swiftly, and with it, dreams.
Dark shadows flitted across the ground as Kerstin ran, her heart pounding in her chest. It had been a long time—far too long—since she had last felt the wind on her face, and now, the only reason she got to feel it was because she was running for her life, trying to escape.
Escape. The word itself was nearly laughable. Her captors were quite crafty, and it was a miracle she ha made it this far without being caught.
'Great first day in America.' Kerstin thought bitterly as she tripped, and landed in a large puddle of water. 'Just fucking perfect.'
Needless to say, they caught up to her, and had her in handcuffs by the time she could even think of getting up.
"You're ours now, Kerstin." A deep, very American voice chuckled darkly, as he yanked her to her feet. "All you have to do is wake up."
"Wha-" Kerstin began, but the edges of her captors' bodies were beginning to distort, and shimmer almost as though they were disappearing.
"Kerstin, wake up." A German-accented voice cut through my dream, and I sat straight up, only to be looking into the crimson eyes of someone with snow-white hair.
"Get the fuck away from me!" I shrieked, scrambling up and over the arm of the couch I was on. I didn't exactly feel like being nice to the alabaster guy sitting before me.
"Is that any way to treat your awesome uncle?" Said alabaster man pouted, and I raised an eyebrow. The man could be my brother. He looked about twenty; which was only a year older than I.
"Wait a second." I held up a hand. "You're the uncle Mutti und Vati sent me to?"
"Hell no!" He smirked, gesturing towards the doorway, where a tall man with slicked back blond hair and stoic blue eyes stood. "That's Westen. He's the one who you were sent to." Suddenly, I was back on the couch, sitting beside the pale man. "So, did your parents tell you about us?"
"No…" I answered slowly, narrowing my eyes. "Was, you murderers?"
"Kesesese~ West, she's just like us!" He laughed, as 'West' just shook his head and left. "Geesh, touchy much?"
"Can I go to my room?" I asked, tired out from the jet lag—we had left at six AM in Germany, only to arrive at three the next morning (thanks to a very long lay-over in New York).
"Sure, follow the awesome Gilbert!" I tentatively followed my uncle up some rather regal stairs, and passed 'Westen' on the way. Once in my room, Gilbert (I refused to call him Uncle Gilbo, like he told me to) jumped on the bed.
"Why can't you be a normal teenager, and fun?" He pouted, bouncing on the bed some. Of course, being irritating and smart-ass-y as I am, I faked a gasp of shock.
"What is this thing you call normal?" I asked, feigning horror. "Is it contagious? Don't touch me… I don't want to catch your normal."
Gilbert blinked at me for a moment, before bursting into hysterical laughter. While he was distracted, I decided to go find 'Uncle West,' and slipped out silently. It took me a bit to find the doorway he had been standing in while Gilbert took me up to my room—at least I thought it was the doorway. The house was too damn big—but all I found was the empty doorway leading to a small rec room, where a man with chin-length blond hair and stubble was playing pool with another blond man who looked entirely pissed off, and had caterpillar eyebrows. The long-haired blond stole a glance up at me, and blinked blue eyes in surprise, before a large grin split across his face.
"Well, hello, ma amie." Frenchie—because I was sure that he was French; his accent definitely was French—trotted over, and took my hand in his to kiss it. "Who might you be, belle?"
"Kerstin." I said slowly, unsure of what to make of this new man. "Have you seen Uncle West?"
"You're the bloody brat that Ludwig's supposed to look after?" The other blond, this one a Brit, asked, and I narrowed my eyes, yanking my hand from Frenchie's grip.
"Don't you dare treat me like that." I spat, grey eyes stormy from my anger. "I got it a home, and I'm not going to get it here too. So tell me where my fucking uncle is, and I'll happily get out of your hair."
The Brit simply looked startled, before a smile graced his lips. Frenchie gasped at his sudden change of countenance, and turned to stare at me.
"Angleterre never looks at moi like that!" He pouted, and earned a billiard ball to the side of his head from the Brit.
"My name is Arthur, you git!" He growled, pointing his pool stick threateningly at the over-dramatic French guy, who was letting out cries of 'mon dieu' every few seconds. Arthur turned to me, his green eyes flashing curiously. "That's Francis, the French Frog, and I'm Arthur, from Britain."
"Kerstin, from-"
"Germany~" A loud, Italian voice cried, as a body crashed into me. I almost fell from the pounce that was surely meant to be a hug, seeing as how his body was wrapped around my waist, but luckily I was strong enough to stay standing. "Doitsu, you're a girl now! With funny grey eyes…"
I looked down at the Italian, who had half-lidded amber eyes, and auburn hair, with a strange, rogue curl that bounced around his head.
"I'm not Doitsu." I hissed, shoving the now-shivering Italian off of me. "My name is Kerstin. Has anyone seen Uncle West?"
"Ludwig, ma cherie." Francis corrected, earning a very threatening glare from me. "And he's right behind you."
I spun around in time to see Uncle West come into the room, looking quite confused. Then, a slight bit of worry, anger, and horror seemed to combine into one sentence; "did anyone tell her?"
"No." Arthur replied behind me, but all I could focus on was that Uncle West looked even younger than Gilbert.
"Wie zur Hölle bist du mein Onkel?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. I heard chorus' of 'huh' and 'wha-' from everyone, but ignored them as Uncle West escorted me out of the room. We headed up to my room, Gilbert following like a puppy.
"Wir sind nicht so scheinen wir, Kerstin." Gilbert said cryptically, winking at me. "Get some sleep. You have a long day ahead of you tomorrow!"
The two exited my room, and I stared at the now-closed door, before curling up on the bed (which had no blanket, mind you). The only thought on my mind as I fell asleep was that I didn't want to have my nightmare again.
Translations: (Thank you, Junewolfe, for fixing the French!
Verdammt: damn
Gottverdammt: God damn
Gottverdammt dummkopf: God damn idiot
Mutti und Vati: Mom and dad
Ma amie: Female friend
Belle: Beautiful
Moi: Me
Mon dieu: My God
Ma cherie: My darling
Wie zur Hölle bist du mein Onkel: How the hell are you my uncle?
Wir sind nicht so scheinen wir, Kerstin: we are not as we seem, Kerstin.
So, what do you think? What is this secret the Germans are hiding? (oh, I'm sorry, and one self-proclaimed Prussian)
Reviews and comments are quite welcome! :)