Thank you guys for reviewing! :D SERIOUSLY. I'm so excited that a story of mine reached 31 reviews! THANKS.
Also, my next update will take some time, since I'm disappearing for a few days to a part of Alfredland. So, thank you again and I'll see you next chapter! I'll get it out as soon as I can!
Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia and DGM. :D
Pursuit and seduction are the essence of sexuality . It's part of the sizzle. - Camille Paglia (1947-, American Author, Critic, Educator)
Francis was a generally nice person. Perverted, yes, but he argued it was his way of showing amore to those who he wanted to be nice to.
Lately, he felt like he ran through several miles of…nails, bolts, for example, with revolutions and Napoleon, the new governments, the list could go on and on.
Francis inwardly winced at Napoleon and yet, at the same time, was grateful to the general for saving him from certain death.
He walked through his restored home as he breathed in the smell of roses. They should be coming soon…It was growing dark too, he should have dinner set out.
Opening the door to glance outside, a not so familiar sight ran into his arms.
"Papa! J'ai raté vous! Papa! I missed you!"
Ah, perfect! He had missed his once former colony and still son even though, it was somewhat unfortunate that he sometimes…scratch that, most of the time forgot about him and mistaken him for Alfred. It wasn't as if he didn't know who Matthew was though, far from it!
"Matthew! Comment avez-vous été? A l'anglais salaud traités vous mal? Matthew! How have you been? Has the English bastard treated you badly?"
Immediately an umbrella met his face as Arthur twitched madly. "Hello frog," he gritted out as Francis rubbed his now sore nose.
"Why hello Arthur," he managed to say albeit it came out more nasally than he meant. He rubbed his nose again, twitching it before glaring at him. "You nearly broke my nose."
"Well, that's too bad, want me to try again?" Arthur growled as Matthew started to panic, waving his arms to prevent another fight from happening.
He didn't have to, as it turned out, because Francis found more victims to molest. "Bonjour, mademoiselle," he began, taking Lenalee's hand and kissing it lightly. The girl flushed a pretty shade of red as the others filed in the room. "May I have your name?"
"L-Lenalee Li," she began timidly as he smiled, still holding her hand.
"Francis Bonnefoy, my dear," he said before glancing at Arthur who was still twitching. "How can you bear to travel with a brute such as him?" He took a step closer to Lenalee, touching her shoulder. "Shall I show you a more…" he whispered something in her ear as she flushed darker red, promptly giving him, as dubbed at the Black Order, "Lenalee's wrath."
Francis ended up with another bloody nose that day.
"So why aren't you coming along?" Alfred asked as the others sat down to rest for awhile. Lenalee managed to sit as far away as Francis as she could but that didn't stop Francis from sidling up to Allen who had the misfortune of sitting next to him.
"I, Alfred, as unfortunate as it is that I cannot help Kiku, am an extremely busy man," Francis replied, his fingers slowly dancing up to Allen's shoulder.
Arthur watched with increasing anger as he glared at Francis. "Keep your hands off the lad Francis," he growled as Allen scooted closer to the edge of the couch, trying his best not to be rude and escape at the same time.
"So why is it, Arthur, that you get to keep all the cute boys and girls to yourself, including my Matthew?" he asked as Arthur twitched madly, glaring at him.
"If you forgot the mission at hand Francis, we're going to help Kiku," he bit out as Francis waved his hand in a flippant manner.
"Hide it all you want Arthur, I know how much of a pervert you truly are," he said as Arthur immediately turned bright red, spluttering something about how much of an idiot Francis was.
"Uh…to the point, Papa, why aren't you going?" Matthew interrupted wisely, watching as Arthur had to be quietly restrained the best he could be by both Alfred and Lavi. Francis grew serious, shaking his head.
"It has been nine years," he said with a slight frown, shaking his head. "Since Napoleon's death. France is still in turmoil and I must be there to oversee that the government is running smoothly (1) so we do not have a…repeat of…" Francis unconsciously shivered, shaking his head. "Of those events."
"The French Revolution?" Lavi guessed as Francis nodded. The Bookman Junior frowned at that, folding his arms while sitting back in his seat. "You make it sound like you were there," he pointed out as Francis laughed, shaking his head.
"My dear red head, I was not there personally, but you can obviously see the affects on this beautiful country," he replied airily, waving his hand yet again. Turning his attention to Matthew, he frowned. "And why are you going Matthew?"
"Well…" Matthew began, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. "I don't know Kiku too well…but it's not as if I can stand by and watch someone die in front of me." He pushed up his glasses, not used to the stares he was receiving. "So when Alfred asked if I wanted to help him…I decided to come…"
"Ahh, I see…" Francis murmured as he glanced towards the exorcists' way then stood to his feet. "You're welcome to stay here until you leave for Russia," he announced as he left for the kitchen to prepare for a light dinner. Arthur glanced towards the others and nodded before whispering to them that they should keep their doors locked.
He stood to his feet, making his way to the kitchen where Francis was busy cooking.
"If you're going to try to cook your awful scones, please resist the urge," the French man spoke while chopping up green onions. "I like having my kitchen in one piece."
"Shut up you bloody frog!" Arthur hissed, knotting his fists tightly. "My cooking is not that bad!"
"And Matthew did not almost die of food poisoning?" Francis replied with a frown as Arthur coughed, shaking his head.
"Stop distracting me!" he snapped as Francis held up his hands, conceding to the English man. Arthur leaned against the counter, folding his arms. "You were serious when you were talking about the government?"
"As much as I would like to tag along, Angleterre," Francis began with a small smirk as Arthur frowned, glancing outside. "It's as I said, I need to take care of my people. I can offer backup," he said while setting a pot on the stove. "But that's about the most I can do…unfortunately."
Arthur stared at Francis before allowing a small smile. "I appreciate that," he said with a nod as Francis waved a spoon at him, spraying some of the sauce on the English man.
"Take care of Matthew," he ordered as Arthur smudged the sauce off his jacket front with a disdainful look on his face.
"As if I'd let something happen to one of my former colonies," he called, storming out of the kitchen. Francis smirked, shaking his head. Arthur would never change…
Arthur climbed the stairs wearily, flopping against his bedside. Staring at the distastefully placed rose petals, he sighed, relaxing against the bedpost. There had been so much going on, so much to draw in.
In the process of only a few weeks, he had been dragged across the Atlantic Ocean twice, ridden a hell machine, and learned that his former little brother had a Noah born in his country.
He mulled over the last part of his thoughts. The Noah of wrath…it wouldn't mean much to a normal person but Alfred was a country, he was America. Who they are, what they do reflect off Alfred, and in turn…
He had asked the exorcists about the Noah of Wrath and Kanda had replied that he was dead. It still didn't relieve Arthur's thoughts, thinking about Alice's reactions during the Civil War. Had the Noah of Wrath still be alive to this day, Arthur would have protested against bringing him along.
Why some people might ask?
Noah and Innocence are, as Allen had explained, counter parts to each other. Both cannot exist in the same plane without wanting to destroy each other.
Arthur could not risk Alfred trying to rip himself apart. It…
He clenched his fists angrily, punching his bedside. There would be no way he would place him in danger.
Again were the thoughts of protecting Alfred, protecting America. Alfred, if he heard these words coming from Arthur would protest, saying that he wasn't Arthur's little brother anymore. He, Alfred would say with a smirk, was able to protect himself as he had proven through his civil war.
Arthur snorted at that thought, uncurling his fists. He had been through his share of civil war, more than enough and he had proven himself time and time again. Was he not Captain Kirkland, the pirate who struck fear into the hearts of the Spanish Armada, into Spain himself? Was he not the United Kingdom, uniting an empire that one would have once simply dreamed of?
America was still a child and in some ways, Arthur wanted to protect that naivety, that innocence. In other ways, Arthur wanted nothing more but to punch him across the jaw for being such a bloody idiot.
Such was their relationship, Arthur mused with a soft smile. He wanted to keep it that way.
The door opened, surprising the man as he turned on his bed, glancing at the intruder. "Hey…Arthur, can I talk to you?" Alfred called as Arthur smiled, nodding. He snuck in as he sat on the chair near the bedside. "What was it like, being a pirate?" he asked as Arthur's eyebrow rose, blinking.
"I don't suppose that this talk has an ulterior motive?" he asked as Alfred laughed awkwardly, shaking his head.
"You're scary, you realize this right?" he said with a small smile as Arthur shook his head, folding his arms.
"Git, I took care of you for how long?"
Alfred laughed, sitting back against the bedpost. "I know we fight a lot," he said with sheepish look as Arthur rolled his eyes. "But I want to ask you something, a favor."
A wave of dread crashed into Arthur as he stiffened, staring at the country. "You're going to have to tell me first before I can agree to anything. For all I know, I could be agreeing to something bloody stupid." Alfred tightened his fists, closing his eyes tightly then stared at him.
"If there was a chance that a Noah started to act out against us, and…uh…well…he or she are one of my people…"
"America," Arthur spoke urgently, ditching the country's human name. "There is absolutely no bloody way I am destroying you. You're the hero aren't you? Buck up."
Alfred looked stunned, eyes wide as he stared at Arthur, bewildered and shaking his head. "You really can read my mind can't you?" he asked, a hint of excitement in his voice.
Arthur glared at him, bopping him on the head. "Your request is quite obvious, you git, I can't read your mind." He rolled his eyes, retracting his fist. "Nor do I want to."
"But I don't want to hurt anyone!" Alfred protested as Arthur bopped him again, causing the boy to yelp and hold his head.
"Ow! That's twice now!" he complained as Arthur ignored the complaints.
"America, you will get through this invisible war, you will get through it whether I drag you through it or you getting up and doing it yourself," Arthur ordered, gripping the country's shoulders, as Alfred sighed, deflating visibly.
"England…" he began before yawning, catching him off guard. Arthur's harsh look softened as he ruffled the boy's head.
"Shut up and go to sleep alright? We're going to Russia in a few days," Arthur said softly as the boy nodded, yawning again. He then followed his orders directly, falling straight on the former pirate's lap.
Arthur stiffened, trying to shove the boy off his lap. "Gah! You stupid prat, get the fuck (2) off me!" he snapped as Alfred laughed, still drowsy.
"C'mon Arthur, just lemme stay here for a bit…" the boy mumbled, slurring his words, as Arthur growled, whacking the boy once more for good measure.
"You're such a hassle," he muttered darkly as Alfred began to snore, leaving the British man sighing, smiling slightly while patting the boy's head.
When Francis came to wake up the duo, he found Alfred curled up on Arthur's lap and Arthur leaning backwards on the bed frame, snoring slightly.
The French man smirked, shaking his head as he climbed the stairs to awaken the exorcists.
Angleterre was still a soft man at heart, no matter how much he would deny it.
(1): Okay, so I missed being able to use Napoleon by nine years, his death was in 1871. Which, honestly, sucks, because I really wanted to use him. D: His history is really interesting. But yeah, the government at the time was different. France is still in trouble, but he's still stabled somewhat.
(2): England has a foul mouth too, former pirate and all. You have to love Pirate!England. I know I do. *found tons of fanart dedicated to him*
I loved the latter half of this chapter and really had a hard time with the beginning. I'm not too good at writing France so send me your complaints if he's badly characterized!
So far, my favorite character to write for in this fic is probably and most obviously England. Probably because his tsundere like attitude is so cute. Anyway! Enough of my babbles, I'll see you when I update as soon as I can!