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hetalia2011-09-14 02:40 pm
lady-phenyx.livejournal.com) wrote in hetalia2011-09-14 02:40 pm
Entry tags:
Fanfic; There Are Few Who Deny It
Title: There Are Few Who Deny It
Genre: Fluff/Humor
Pairing/Characters: US, UK, Jack Skellington
Rating/Warnings: G. So very, very G.
Summary: Kink Meme De-Anon. Request: Jack Skellington. He does say he's known throughout England and France XD I want to say anything you can think of with that, be it England and France getting scared to death by him or them telling him to shoo or even having a cup of tea.
1600s
“…Engwand?” a tiny form peeked around the door to England’s study, and England sighed, putting down the paper and smiling fondly at his little brother.
“What is it, America?” he asked. “It’s late, why aren’t you in bed?”
“I’m scared, there’s a skellington in my closet!” America announced, running into the room and clinging to England. “Make it go away, Engwand! It’s so scawy!”
England sighed again and pushed away from his desk. “All right America, I’ll be right there.” America cheered as England reached for the fireplace poker and followed the tiny colony up to his bedroom.
It was rather odd, he thought, how his fairy friends could be around America all day and the young nation never saw them…yet he could see the monster in the closet.
England walked in after America and pretended to tuck him in, then as casually as possible walked to the closet, trying to act as though he was just humoring America.
He flung open the door and his hand shot into the closet to close on a skeletal arm. Two sets of eyes widened (or, to be more precise, one set of eyes and one set of eye-sockets widened). England facepalmed while the skeleton in the closet scratched at the back of his head (making a rather unpleasant sound) and chuckled sheepishly.
“You,” England pointed to the skeleton, “go downstairs and wait in the kitchen.” He pointedly turned back to America and started tucking him back in as the skeleton shrugged and headed toward the door.
“You better b’have y’rself, Engwand has a poker!” America declared, glaring at the skeleton, who gave a brief, ironic bow and left, ducking to keep from hitting his head on the door frame. “That wasn’t as much fun as last week when you picked the bogey up by his nose,” he complained. England shrugged and kissed him good-night.
“This one didn’t have a nose,” he said, blowing out the candle. “Good night, America.”
He entered the kitchen and leaned against the wall, giving the tall, nattily dressed skeleton sitting in his kitchen a half-hearted glare. “You couldn’t even wait until Samhain, could you. And seriously? Picking on a colony, Jack?”
“I thought it was your closet,” Jack replied, crossing very, very long, thin legs. “You’re a challenge, and I don’t have many of those anymore. I’ll be passing along word about the poker, though. Fair’s fair.”
1700s
“England! England, you gotta come…see…” America froze in the doorway to the parlor where England was having afternoon tea, staring wide eyed at England’s guest. The skeleton he’d thought he’d dreamed up years ago grinned, wider and wider, before casually pulling off his head and tossing it to the petrified teenager.
America caught the head without thinking, stared at it for a few seconds, then screamed as it winked at him and threw it back in the room, fleeing the house.
England took a calm sip of tea as Jack retrieved his head.
“You do realize you’ve traumatized him for life,” he commented dryly.
1900s
America swallowed nervously and fidgeted as he sat in England’s parlor. While officially their countries were friendly again, there were times he wondered if the two of them would ever be friends again. Still, England had invited him over for tea and to hand out apples to kids going “guising” (Why did they have to be weird? Couldn’t they just call it trick-or-treat?), that had to mean something, right?
Suddenly from upstairs, he heard a scream. England!
Without thinking (because he was heroic like that, of course) America jumped from his seat and ran for the stairs. At the top of the stairs he froze, staring at the tall, suited skeleton unfolding from where he’d bent to pass through the door to England’s study. Both he and England were laughing, England going so far as to pat the skeleton on one frilled shoulder.
“Okay, good one, you got me good that time. Oh, hello, America.” England said, wiping his eyes as he straightened. “You remember Jack, right?” The skeleton gave a cheerful wave, and America wavered for a second (he was a hero, he should save England from the monster!) before his legs made the decision without his brain’s input and he fled.
2000s
“By the way, has America managed to win your bet yet?”
England picked up the teapot and sighed, pouring out for his friend. “Ugh, he got Japan and Russia to help him. I’ll get him for that next year, though.”
“You know, I’m always willing to help a friend…”
“I thought you said America was too easy?”
“But he’s got such a charming scream! Not as much fun as yours, of course, but then you’re more of a challenge.”
“Well, there is that…” A clatter, and two sets of eyes turn to look at the country in question, who had just dropped his bag and was staring, pointing at Jack with a shaking finger. England facepalmed.
“Honestly, America…do we have to go through this every time I invite Jack over for tea?”
Note – According to wikipedia (the bastion of knowledge e_e) Trick-or-treating isn’t popular in the UK, at least in the early 1900s, but they used to go Guising. Got my info here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Trick-or-treating
Bonus points if you catch my reference in part one. ; )
Genre: Fluff/Humor
Pairing/Characters: US, UK, Jack Skellington
Rating/Warnings: G. So very, very G.
Summary: Kink Meme De-Anon. Request: Jack Skellington. He does say he's known throughout England and France XD I want to say anything you can think of with that, be it England and France getting scared to death by him or them telling him to shoo or even having a cup of tea.
1600s
“…Engwand?” a tiny form peeked around the door to England’s study, and England sighed, putting down the paper and smiling fondly at his little brother.
“What is it, America?” he asked. “It’s late, why aren’t you in bed?”
“I’m scared, there’s a skellington in my closet!” America announced, running into the room and clinging to England. “Make it go away, Engwand! It’s so scawy!”
England sighed again and pushed away from his desk. “All right America, I’ll be right there.” America cheered as England reached for the fireplace poker and followed the tiny colony up to his bedroom.
It was rather odd, he thought, how his fairy friends could be around America all day and the young nation never saw them…yet he could see the monster in the closet.
England walked in after America and pretended to tuck him in, then as casually as possible walked to the closet, trying to act as though he was just humoring America.
He flung open the door and his hand shot into the closet to close on a skeletal arm. Two sets of eyes widened (or, to be more precise, one set of eyes and one set of eye-sockets widened). England facepalmed while the skeleton in the closet scratched at the back of his head (making a rather unpleasant sound) and chuckled sheepishly.
“You,” England pointed to the skeleton, “go downstairs and wait in the kitchen.” He pointedly turned back to America and started tucking him back in as the skeleton shrugged and headed toward the door.
“You better b’have y’rself, Engwand has a poker!” America declared, glaring at the skeleton, who gave a brief, ironic bow and left, ducking to keep from hitting his head on the door frame. “That wasn’t as much fun as last week when you picked the bogey up by his nose,” he complained. England shrugged and kissed him good-night.
“This one didn’t have a nose,” he said, blowing out the candle. “Good night, America.”
He entered the kitchen and leaned against the wall, giving the tall, nattily dressed skeleton sitting in his kitchen a half-hearted glare. “You couldn’t even wait until Samhain, could you. And seriously? Picking on a colony, Jack?”
“I thought it was your closet,” Jack replied, crossing very, very long, thin legs. “You’re a challenge, and I don’t have many of those anymore. I’ll be passing along word about the poker, though. Fair’s fair.”
1700s
“England! England, you gotta come…see…” America froze in the doorway to the parlor where England was having afternoon tea, staring wide eyed at England’s guest. The skeleton he’d thought he’d dreamed up years ago grinned, wider and wider, before casually pulling off his head and tossing it to the petrified teenager.
America caught the head without thinking, stared at it for a few seconds, then screamed as it winked at him and threw it back in the room, fleeing the house.
England took a calm sip of tea as Jack retrieved his head.
“You do realize you’ve traumatized him for life,” he commented dryly.
1900s
America swallowed nervously and fidgeted as he sat in England’s parlor. While officially their countries were friendly again, there were times he wondered if the two of them would ever be friends again. Still, England had invited him over for tea and to hand out apples to kids going “guising” (Why did they have to be weird? Couldn’t they just call it trick-or-treat?), that had to mean something, right?
Suddenly from upstairs, he heard a scream. England!
Without thinking (because he was heroic like that, of course) America jumped from his seat and ran for the stairs. At the top of the stairs he froze, staring at the tall, suited skeleton unfolding from where he’d bent to pass through the door to England’s study. Both he and England were laughing, England going so far as to pat the skeleton on one frilled shoulder.
“Okay, good one, you got me good that time. Oh, hello, America.” England said, wiping his eyes as he straightened. “You remember Jack, right?” The skeleton gave a cheerful wave, and America wavered for a second (he was a hero, he should save England from the monster!) before his legs made the decision without his brain’s input and he fled.
2000s
“By the way, has America managed to win your bet yet?”
England picked up the teapot and sighed, pouring out for his friend. “Ugh, he got Japan and Russia to help him. I’ll get him for that next year, though.”
“You know, I’m always willing to help a friend…”
“I thought you said America was too easy?”
“But he’s got such a charming scream! Not as much fun as yours, of course, but then you’re more of a challenge.”
“Well, there is that…” A clatter, and two sets of eyes turn to look at the country in question, who had just dropped his bag and was staring, pointing at Jack with a shaking finger. England facepalmed.
“Honestly, America…do we have to go through this every time I invite Jack over for tea?”
Note – According to wikipedia (the bastion of knowledge e_e) Trick-or-treating isn’t popular in the UK, at least in the early 1900s, but they used to go Guising. Got my info here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Trick-or-treating
Bonus points if you catch my reference in part one. ; )