N/A Hello everyone! This is my first fic! I'm very excited to bring this to you but there are a few things that would like to mention first.
Pairings: FrUK and Germany x France serve as main pairings with very slight RusAme and GerIta. Other characters making an appearance include Prussia and Spain, Italy, Japan, Russia, Canada and America.
I found it difficult to decide which is the main pairing for this story. I believe that this story is France x UK at heart even though it deals mostly with France and Germany. If you think that it should be Germany x France, let me know in a review or PM and I will change it.
This story is mostly a story summary. What that means is that I am posting a guideline that I would have used if I was to write this story fully. The outline is fairly detailed and reads almost like a real story. My reason for posting this is that I have been sitting on this outline for one and a half years, hoping to write it but my uni work was preventing me from actually writing it. I have recently received my timetable for the next half year and it looks like I wouldn't be able to write this story again for the next 6 months. So instead of sitting on this outline for another 6 months or more, I decided to share it with the world so that you guys may read it.
My hope for this story is that some of you may like the ideas in here and would like to write some of this out in a proper story form. For example as you read this summary, you may find that you like the scene where Germany punches Prussia and wish that the scene was written out in all its glory, then I urge you to actually try your hand at writing that scene and then posting it to me in a PM or a review. I will add your writing into this story along with your name (or without your name if you wish) so that the story becomes more enjoyable. You will also have my eternal thank you. You don't have to write much, a 1000 words per scene is fine if that's all it takes to write that scene. So, I hope that this story may become something like a community fic.
Oh, there are some full written parts in this story already, such as the beginning of scene 1 and the full scene 2, which I wrote when I had the time one and a half years ago. Wow, I feel old.
The inspiration behind the early part of this story is the song 'Battlefield' by Jordin Sparks. Type 'France x England Battlefield' in youtube for an awesome video. Just a warning that it is quite strong, especially if you haven't seen any fan made clips before.
Warnings: Yaoi; France being France; occasional human names; infrequent coarse language; non-graphic sex and rape later in the story; violence; supernatural themes. Ye have been warned :3
I don't own Hetalia. This fanfic is just for fun.
Without further ado, enjoy.
When a Monster Calls
Chapter 1: When a Monster Comes
Scene 1
Day 1 England
Morning
England thought he was being followed.
The feeling started ever since he left his house. It was Sunday, the only day that England could do whatever he liked. He had decided that spending the morning in a nice café with a cup of tea and catching up on the latest news lines was a good idea. It was then, as he locked the door and took the first few steps from his house that England felt an overwhelming sense of dread, as if someone was watching him. The feeling persisted as he stopped by the newsagent, glancing around for the possible pursuit. Some people hurried past, others walked their dogs and some strolled in a group talking in obnoxiously loud voices. All and all, England saw no one that looked suspicious enough to be following him.
England payed for the newspaper, his mood getting cloudy by the second. Shoving the newspaper under one arm, he stepped back onto the sidewalk and pulled his jacket tighter around himself. It was early November but the autumn chill had already set into the air. His green eyes glanced towards a rare cloudless blue sky. The bright sun provided little warmth against the occasional freezing gust of wind.
Glancing over his shoulder for the fifth time, England felt he was getting paranoid. What the hell is wrong with me? he thought, kicking at a loose stone on the sidewalk to see it run over by a car. He had no reasons to believe that he was followed. At the moment he didn't have any notable hostile relations with other countries and he couldn't recall getting into any fights recently. Yelling at France and that git America did not count. So why did England's heart hammer madly in his chest and his body stood on high alert as if he expected someone to grab him at any moment?
The café came into sight, and England all but sprinted there. Why, oh why had he decided to leave the safety of his home in the first place? He entered the shop, glad to have left the cold and a possible pursuer behind. Once he had ordered a cup of Earl Gray and was sitting in a quiet area from where he had a clear view of anyone entering, he allowed himself to relax a bit. The shop had just the right amount of people to have their presence known but at the same time maintaining a comfortable noise level. England hoped that nothing would happen to him as long as there were people around.
Instead, the gut feelings of dread intensified in England's stomach. Now he was sure that someone's eyes were trailed on him with no good intentions in mind. He could almost pin-point the direction the oppressing presence was.
"Your tea." A waiter set the cup on the table, startling England out of his concentration. England muttered a half-hearted thanks to the waiter's retreating back before he lifted the cup to his lips. God, he needed some tea right now. The feeling he was having now was almost as bad as when France was ogling him. He took a small sip; the divine taste filled his mouth immediately and he sighed in contentment.
That was until an arm hooked itself around England's shoulders. England jumped in alarm, eyes wide and turned to face his attacker only to have someone's lips press against his own.
England froze, tea spilling from the cup as his nose was assaulted with a familiar smell of certain cologne. It wasn't until England felt the burns on his legs that he realised what was happening and pushed the intruding face away. England's red face went violet with rage when he saw who it was. "France!" He slammed the now near empty cup on the table and glared at the smiling blue-eyed nation. "Look what you've done, you bastard!" England grabbed a tissue to wipe the tea that has spilled onto his thighs. Damn that tea was hot.
"Let me help you with that." France grabbed the tissues and slid his hand down England's thigh.
England made a strangled sound of pain mixed with indignation and pushed France away with enough force to make him crash into the nearby table, which luckily remained empty. The other patrons looked on to see England standing at the table with an awkward stain on his pants, his chair upturned, fists folded and a murderous intention in his eyes. That murderous intention was directed at the sprawled Frenchman, who despite having knocked over a table and two chairs, was laughing at the Englishman through the pain on his face.
England noticed the attention and his face went white in mortification. He straightened the chair, covered himself with the newspaper and went to the counter. He hoped that by the time he paid and apologised France would have made himself sparse.
No such luck.
The bastard followed him when he exited the store. It was Sunday, the only day England had off. Why did the frog have to ruin it? At least the weird feeling of being followed had gone away.
"It was you!" England accused, acknowledging the French nation that was slightly behind him. "You have followed me all the way from my house!"
"Well, yes," France said as if that was obvious. "You seemed to be in a good mood so I wanted to know if you were seeing someone behind my back."
"Why you!" England didn't know what to be angrier at, at the blatant admission that he was stalked or at the suggestion that there was something between him and France. "Why are you here anyway? Knowing you, you had planned the whole thing to humiliate me!" Walking with the newspaper covering his front was annoying and downright embarrassing, but he had no choice. His morning was already ruined. He hoped that he could get home as fast as possible and drown himself in tea to forget that this had ever happened. He stormed off as fast as he could without appearing full on running.
"Non, that was not my original intention." The frog followed him and that made Arthur mad. "Slow down, mon cher. As much as I like to see you trying to cover that delicious-looking stain with a newspaper, you look rather uncomfortable." France held out his blue coat to England, wearing nothing but a white long sleeved shirt underneath.
England stopped, taken aback by the gesture. France's coat was long enough to cover the stain. England looked at France's face expecting to see the taller nation smirking with some hidden purpose, but instead his eyes met a normal level gaze. A gaze that wavered as a cold blast of wind tore through France's thin shirt.
"What's with the sudden change of heart?" England said, taking the coat. "Aren't you afraid to freeze to death?"
"Then share your heat with me!" France said and hooked one arm around England's shoulders and pressed their bodies together. England flushed and let out a grunt before he pushed France's face away out of his personal space.
"I think not, you bloody frog." England said, his cheeks tinged pink as he slipped France's coat over shit shoulders. The hem ended at his mid-thighs, hiding the stain. "It's a short walk to my house. You can manage," he said, trying and failing to hide the fact that he was getting the smell of Francis's perfume all over his clothes.
"Does that mean that I'm invited?" France said, his face lighting up despite the cold.
England's face looked like he just heard the revelation of a lifetime. He opened his mouth to say something but closed it instead. "I guess so," he said before turning an accusing glare at France "Don't you dare try anything!"
"I wouldn't even think of it." France held his hands up in surrender.
"Like I believe that." England huffed and turned back to the walk.
N/A The next paragraph is a summary: What is supposed to happen in continuation of the scene 1 above (the scene above is yet to be finished):
France embarrasses England in public as per usual but then he hurts him either physically or emotionally or lands him in a super embarrassing situation (preferably by accident). England is super mad and storms off in pain. France realizes he's crossed the line and apologizes but it's too late. (It should be hinted among all this that they care about each other behind their masks)
Scene 2
Day 1 England
England slammed the door to his basement, his heart burning with rage.
"How dare that bastard!" England hit the wall with his fist. "How dare he play games with the British Empire! I won't stand for it! The fucking snail eating bastard will die!"
England rushed to his work desk, knocking over half burned candles and piles of books but he didn't care. He rummaged through the shelves on his desk, muttering curses under his breath. He pulled out a book with a victorious "Aha!"
"Just what the bastard needs," England said, stopping at a page of an old Latin spell book that had a diagram drawn on it. England grabbed white chalk off his desk and started to draw a matching circle on the ground.
Once that was done, England lit the candles at each of the eight points along the circle and switched off the electric lights. Looking at the circle, England felt some sort of justification being done. It's about time that someone gave France a lesson. "And of course all the others are bloody incompetent so the only one who can do this is me!" Yes, soon he will have France covering in fear!
England stood in the circle, holding the book in one arm, while the other was outstretched, the palm of his hand facing downward. England uttered the words of the ancient spell, feeling his magic power gathering around him. The chalk lines lit bright yellow, covering the room in an eerie glow.
"Come, Shadows, I have a job for you. I, Arthur Kirkland, am your master, and I summon thee to put a curse on my enemy!"
The circle suddenly lit up the colour of a ruby and a hollow screech pierced the air. It sounded as if a person with a terrible case of lung cancer was attempting to scream through a fierce wind. Arthur shuddered; the sound and the sudden chill that seemed to settle over the room made his skin break out in goose bumps. The candles flicked, and Arthur saw the shadows in the room lengthen, stretching over she ceiling to form a shape of a hooded figure on the opposite wall. The figure was pitch black save for the dashes of glowering red where the figure's eyes should be.
"What is your wish, Master?" The Shadow said in a voice that sounded like wind tearing through a cave, and for the brief instant that it spoke Arthur heard screams and cries of pain, that died immediately when the Shadow stopped speaking.
Another shudder went through Arthur's body as Shadow locked its red eyes on him. He was not intimidated, he told himself. He attributed the shudder as a normal reaction to seeing his magic rapidly disappear in something that was composed of shadows with red slits for its eyes.
"Yes, I have an order for you. My wish is that the person by the name of Francis Bonnefoy, also known as the personification of France, suffers greatly," England huffed. The creature sure cost a lot of energy to maintain, but he wanted nothing but the best for what he had in mind. "I want you to send your best servant to take the image of the person that Francis fears and make that person follow Francis around. Make sure that the servant does not give Francis any rest and does not give Francis any sexual favours. In fact, make it somehow that whenever the servant does anything sexual it becomes unpleasant to Francis. That should teach the frog a lesson! The servant can suck out the bastard's soul for all I care! As long as the servant makes Francis' life miserable!"
England smiled, then laughed at his own brilliance. This was perfect punishment for France. He could have thought of more specific ways that he wanted the frog to suffer but this was pretty good for making up stuff on the go. Whatever, as long as France gets a taste of his own medicine without receiving any pleasure, England did not care how the Master of Shadows went about achieving his goal. And all in a day's work!
"Oh! This has nothing to do with France as a nation, but everything with Francis Bonnefoy as a person! I don't want anything to happen to the France's land or French nation's people." God, he had almost forgotten about that. Luckily he remembered in time and saved some 80 million people from being stalked by the people they feared.
The Shadow blinked, or whatever it was that caused the creature's red slits to momentarily lose colour. England gasped, feeling his magic power leaving his body at an alarmingly fast rate.
"Name the condition for the spell to be broken." The blood curling screams and moans filled the room for the brief moment that the Shadow spoke.
England shivered. "Does there have to be a condition?" England said, his breath forming clouds of steam.
"Name the one condition for the spell to be broken," the Shadow repeated.
England was confused. He didn't expect there to be a condition. The drain on his body did not make thinking any easier. His breathing became harsher as he struggled to comb his brain for at least one thing that France had no chance of doing.
Make France beg?
No, the bastard would do that to save his arse.
Lose his perverted ways?
No, France could stop being a pervert to break the spell only to pick up the old habits later…
"Name the condition now," the Shadow said, its tone sounding more menacing.
England fell to one knee, the drain on his body unbearable. "I don't know!" he said, his voice sounding pained and hoarse. The creature moved off the wall so that its red slits were inches from England's face. England fell on all four, his face freezing off from the creature's proximity. He was starting to lose the feelings in his limbs...
"The condition is…" England was desperate and blurted the first thing that came to his head, "that France falls in love…" France falling genuinely in love? Unlikely, but not impossible. And then he suddenly added, "…with the person he fears."
The Shadow tore away from England's face, entering the wall and going up the ceiling. A hollow laughter filled the air over a cacophony of tortured screams. The candles flickered, the elongated shadows forming wicked shapes on the walls, before going out all together. With a last pain filled roar, the room became dark and silent.
England fought to regain his breathing, calming down once he felt blood flow back into his limbs. Still shaking, he crawled in the dark towards the electric light switch and turned it on.
What the hell just happened? He asked himself. Everything had gone extremely well until the Shadow asked for a condition. The one he gave was…well, it wasn't so bad actually. If only he knew who France was afraid of. Also, the condition he gave under the pressure was vague at best. Did the spell pop out of existence as soon as France falls in love with his fear? Or does he have to declare his love or…Hold on, why the hell was he even thinking about this? England felt his face heat up. He did not care about the frog's fate. He was just curious how the spell turned out, that's all. He supposed he would find out who France feared soon enough.
Satisfied that no shadows were lingering and no candles were left burning, England set off to his room. His progress was excruciatingly slow as he leaned heavily on the walls to support himself. His teeth were still chattering from the cold. With great difficulty he made it up the stairs and it became obvious to him that reaching his room was beyond his strength right now. Instead he made it to the living room and once he had run out of wall to lean on, crawled to the couch. Not bothering with his clothes, England fell into an exhausted sleep.
Scene 3
Day 1 France
France's house
Late Evening, 7pm
Meanwhile, France is getting ready to go to a club to meet with Prussia and Spain. All of a sudden he hears a knock on his door. He goes to answer it, hoping that it's quick.
What he sees is a very scary-looking Germany and a near-tear-eyed Italy behind him.
France greets them, but only Italy replies 'Hi France! Something's wrong with Germany! I was cooking pasta and Germany was helping me and all of a sudden he goes strange and… and leaves! He wouldn't answer me about where he was going! So I followed him! Did you have a meeting with Germany, big brother France?'
All this time, Germany is staring at France non-stop, hardly blinking and standing absolutely still. It is starting to creep France out. 'Non, I have no business with Germany at this time. I was actually on my way out to meet Gil and Tonio.' At those words or when France attempts to close the door, Germany suddenly grabs France's arm and kisses him briefly.
France is surprised but then says seductively "Possessive, aren't we?" with a smile to Germany, only Germany's cold eyes break France's smile. 'Germany, what do you think you're doing?' at which Germany pushes past France, dragging France with him.
France resits and starts to get angry, Italy looks more tearful by the moment. France talks to Germany but Germany ignores him. France attempts to get Germany out of his house but he only follows France with his emotionless eyes. Italy tries to help but Germany ignores him. When France has enough of this game he says that he's leaving "Prussia and Spain are waiting for me" and walks to leave but Germany grabs his elbow and holds him back. France gets angry and tries to wring his hand free, and when that doesn't help he tries to hit Germany to let go. Germany catches his wrists for a long moment and eventually lets go.
In the end Germany forces France to stay home. Just when France starts to get desperate he receives a call from Spain 'what's wrong France? We're already here.' To which France tells of his Germany problem. He hears Prussia on the background and then an idea hits him and he asks to get Prussia on the phone. France tells him to 'get over to my place and get your brother out of my house! He's acting weird!' Prussia laughs and after insulting France a bit, asks to be put to Germany.
France gives Germany the phone saying 'it's your brother'. Germany puts it to his ear and then almost immediately shuts it off and returns it. France is confused. A moment later the phone rings again and pissed off Prussia says what the hell was that? France says no idea and in the end they agreed to come over.
Scene 4
Day 1 France
France's house
7.15 pm
Sometime later, Prussia bursts in, laughing when he sees miserable-looking France in an armchair, a stoic Germany standing beside him and a near tear-eyed Italy nearby. Prussia playfully stalks to Germany and teases him about France. Germany gives no response. 'Oi, west, what's up?' no response. He follows his brother's line of sight directly to hopeful-looking France. Something clicked in Prussia's head and he seductively said 'could it be that Germany has a thing for France?'. No response from Germany, but France utters a strangled laugh and says 'if that was all I wouldn't have called you guys'. Prussia is really pissed at Germany now. 'why else would he come?' He walks over to France and twirls a stand of France's hair between his fingers.
This gets an immediate reaction from Germany. Before anyone could comprehend what is happenning, Germany yanks Prussia by the shirt, yells 'he is mine' and manages to land three punches to the Prussian's face before anyone could react. France hooks his arms around Germany to restrain him and Spain with Italy pull Prussia away from the enraged German. 'what the fuck, west?' Prussia says as he wipes off the blood off his nose. 'Germany!' Italy is openly crying. Germany is still struggling in France's arms looking like he's going to murder Prussia. France sees the look of fear in Italy's eyes and so France desperately yells, 'run guys, he's gone crazy!' To which Spain helps Prussia up and they leave. Italia lingers by the door but leaves also.
Scene 5
Day 1 France
France's house
7.30 pm
Once Prussia, Spain and Italy had left, Germany stopped and turned to France. France was really scared at this point at how Germany had beat Prussia without a thought. France thought Germany would never act that way. 'who are you?' he whispered at last. 'Germany would never hurt GilGil like that.' Again, no response, but a stoic stare. France shivered inwardly. All of a sudden he realised he was alone and it made him feel triply insecure. 'So, what is it that you want from me?' he said, remembering Germany's earlier outbursts, but again there is only silence.
A small while later, France rings Spain and asks how Prussia is. But before Spain can reply, Germany grabs his phone away. France looks terrified into the German's gleaming (angry) eyes as he hears bits of Spain's voice from the phone in Germany's hand. At that point, he's really scared (for himself and Antonio and Gilbert). Germany switches off the phone and walks closer.
France tries some more times to get Germany to leave but Germany will either ignore him or maybe after a while say a flat 'no'. France wants to call someone else to get Germany to leave but he's not sure who.
In the end, France considered his evening ruined and decided to go to bed. He looked at Germany, trying to decide what to do with him. All of a sudden Germany started walking closer. 'what do you want?' France asked again but seeing as Germany kept walking he got a little scared. 'hey' France said and put his arms out in defence but Germany put one hand around France's waist and the other behind his head and shoulder and pulled him into a deep kiss.
France was surprised but quickly responded to the kiss until suddenly he started to feel that something was wrong. He started to feel weak, almost like as if he was ill. It felt unpleasant. He tried to break the kiss but Germany held his head firmly. France was feeling worse with each passing moment. Finally Germany let go and France managed to get a sharp breath before Germany forcefully caught his lips again. France's head started to hurt and he felt very heavy and tired. He pushed against Germany's chest but Germany held on tight. All of a sudden it dawned on France that something is totally wrong and he started to struggle, desperate to get away but Germany would not break that kiss. Tears began to form in France's eyes as he realised that he was losing, his body has become so weak that he could barely push against Germany's chest. Then all of a sudden he started to go limp, but Germany held onto his waist to prevent him from falling. And the next thing France knew, he had passed out.
End Chapter 1: When a Monster Comes
N/A I hope that you enjoyed this and that now you have an idea of what this story is going to be like. There are 5 scenes in this chapter, why not trying your hand at writing one of them? I will credit the scene that you write to you. If the scenes in this chapter are not your forte, there will be more to choose from next time.
This story is not going to be too long, 4-5 chapters. I will try and update it every Thursday.
I find it a bit strange that I can't quite picture what France does to England to set England on the war path in scene 1. That is the only bit in this story that I am unsure about.
Feel free to post any thoughts or questions about this story in a review.
Until next time,
Running Lynx