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hetaliasunshine2009-10-12 04:14 pm
ykyapril.livejournal.com) wrote in hetaliasunshine2009-10-12 04:14 pm
Entry tags:
[Fic Fill] Follow the Stars Home
TITLE: Follow the Stars Home
AUTHOR:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
ykyapril
RECIPIENT:pana
CHARACTERS/PAIRINGS: Turkey, Greece; Egpyt, France, England and Russia make guest appearances.
RATING: PG-13 for bad words orz
NOTES: Not as sunny as it should be, orz. I'm sorry to whoever that is looking for a happier fic... And, there may be historical inaccuracies since my only references came from Wikipedia. orz. I still hope everyone enjoys!
SUMMARY: Turkey gets hit by an earthquake. Greece is, surprisingly, one of the first to help.
The three nations on the other side of the deck were mumbling to themselves, shooting occasional glances at him. Greece ignored them, focusing his sight on the line of fleets from the Ottoman Empire and Egypt. ‘Bastards,’ he thought to himself, grinding his teeth. He wanted nothing more but to take hold of the ship himself and ram it into that largest one right across him where he knew that smug bastard would be standing, arms crossed, with that goddamned smirk on his face.
God knows how much he had wanted to rip it off that bastard’s face.
Unfortunately, France, England and Russia did not think that was a good idea. “Patience,” they had said. “We’re going to make their supplies run out before we hit them hard. It’s a game of perseverance, son.”
Greece only hoped their supplies wouldn’t run out first.
“The Greece government pledges its aid and support for Turkey, and its citizens…”
Greece was among the first few who had immediately gone over to check on Turkey after the two earthquakes had struck. His brows were tightly knitted, and that small scowl of his had been constantly in place ever since he stepped foot into the damaged country.
Turkey must have been very hurt.
At that, Greece’s eyes hardened and he quickened his pace to find that “egotistic bastard”.
“Only I can hurt you that much, bastard…”
The lingering smoke of gunpowder hung in the air, sheltering the Turk fleets from clear view. Nonetheless, Greece saw it, the fire burning on the hulls of the vessels, ships sunk, overthrown, all underneath his cliffs.
He spotted the Ottoman Empire, with his mask half blasted away, revealing those eyes, which were, for once, not looking at him mockingly, but were filled to the brim with anger, as he and Egypt rowed away in a tiny boat.
Somehow, Greece did not feel as satisfied as he should have felt.
When he saw the once proud nation hunched over in that dirty, dingy alley, one hand on the wall to support himself, the other clutching his stomach, face writhed in pain, Greece knew he could stick a knife into that man’s back and give him that death he had wanted to centuries ago.
He would not, of course. Sticking knifes in people’s backs when they were unaware was not an honorable thing to do, and his mother had taught him to be an honorable person.
But mother, what if it was the other person’s request?
“Kill me,” Turkey rasped, once he had spotted Greece. “I know you’ve always wanted to, kid. Now’s yer chance. Stick a knife into me. C’mon.”
Greece stared straight into those anguish-filled eyes, his own emotionless.
“Do it,” the other’s voice was a mere whisper, almost pleadingly.
He took a step forward. And another, another, till he reached the trembling figure.
And then, he punched him.
He had found an extraordinary treasure in the halls of the Ottoman Empire’s mansion.
A cat, not one of his, but a stray one. Still, its silky pure white coat told him that it was of high breeding. Those mismatched eyes, one amber and one blue, stared at him regally, as it stood proudly, its tail parallel to its back.
Greece had never seen a cat like this before.
“What’s your name, kitty?” He whispered, getting to his knees and reaching a hand out to gently pet its fur.
“Ankara,” a voice replied from behind him.
Greece scowled, and prepared to turn around to punch the nation in his shins, when the Ottoman Empire stepped up beside him and kneeled down as well, tenderly scratching the cat’s ears. It purred.
“You like her, kid?”
Greece blinked, surprised. “Y-yes.” He replied when the empire shot him a sideways questioning glance.
“Then she’s yours.”
Turkey simply lay there, on the dark, dingy alley, a bruise forming on his cheek. “Trying to make me hurt more before I die, are ye?” He laughed, a hollow sound to Greece’s ears.
The alley was quiet, void of any sounds except for the Turk’s breathing.
“Ya know, it used to be Egypt, you, an’ me. And I don’t know when it just became me only…”
Greece was silent.
“I…I never –”
“Shut up, bastard.” The Greek stepped forward, lifted his shirt over his head, and jammed it harshly onto Turkey’s stomach. “You’re bleeding.”
The other nation hissed as Greece took out a bottle of disinfectant and poured a generous amount over his wound. “W-where did ya get that?”
Greece miraculously produced a roll of bandages and started wrapping the other’s wound. “My government pledged its aid for you, so now I’m here to save your behind.” A slow smile spread over the Greek’s face when the Turk winced at a particular hard tug. “Couldn’t let you die yet, bastard. You still owe me money.”
Turkey laughed, and this time, it was his usual, arrogant laugh. “Still the same, tactless kid. I tell ye, yer not gonna get any girls that way, kid.”
Greece scowled, tugging hard again. “I’m not like you, bastard.”
The other nation simply snorted.
“…Ankara just gave birth. I’ll give you one of her kits.” Greece said nonchalantly, ignoring the way Turkey’s face paled. “On second thought, maybe you’d like the whole lot?”
“You know I hate cats, brat!”
He hesitated on the threshold of his new home, peering into the grand mansion. In his hand he clutched a piece of paper, with the address of his new home written on it in beautiful cursive writing. A woman’s, he had guess before.
However it was not, as he found out later.
It was France’s.
Greece did not like Napoleon from the very start, but since he did grant him some sort of freedom from that bastard, he did not mind him so much.
“Hello, Greece.”
Turning slightly behind him, the Greek came face to face with the Egyptian. “Egypt…? What are you doing here?”
“To congratulate you,” the Egyptian held out a covered basket.
Greece peered at it, head tilted in wonder, for a moment. And then he seemed to snap out of whatever reverie he was in, took the proffered basket, and smiled. “Thank you. Would you like to come in?”
Egypt shook his head. “…Today I’m just Sadiq’s messenger.”
“I don’t want to hear anything that bastard has to say.” Greece responded immediately.
“Herakles…” The Egyptian sighed, a bit remorsefully. “We cannot choose our families. They are God’s gift to us, as we are to them.
“That is why we cannot destroy kindred; even though our chains may stretch, they will never break.”
The next time he saw Turkey, he was lying on a cot in his house, feeling as if his heart was being torn into two.
“What are you doing here, bastard?” Greece hissed, eyes slitting in pain.
Turkey’s eyes showed uncharacteristic worry. “Just comin’ here to check on ya, brat.” He shook his head and, sitting down, wiped the Greek’s forehead with his sleeve. “Ya really can’t do nothin’ without me, can ya?”
“S-shut up –!” A groan tore out of Greece’s throat as aftershocks shook the house. His lights swung from the ceiling precariously; the ornaments on his bookshelves tinkled and wobbled; there was a loud creak as splinters from the ceiling cracked and fell down.
Turkey held the Greek close as all these happened, all the while patting gently, albeit awkwardly, on his back, trying to soothe his pain.
When it was all over, Greece broke the silence first.
“I know why you asked me to kill you.”
“And I know why ya didn’t,” replied Turkey, sounding arrogant. Greece imagined him wearing his signature smirk again.
“That’s ‘cause we’re family, yeah?”
Greece smiled softly despite himself.
“Well then, family, remember to feed my cats.”
Some notes:
- My prompt was based on the Greek-Turkish earthquake diplomacy.
- Greece's flashback in the beginning was a bit based on the Battle of Navarino.
- The Ionian Islands, a part of Greece, had been captured by France under Napoleon's rule. They were given the right to govern themselves for the first time in a while.
- Egypt's words to Greece were real quotes.
AUTHOR:
ykyaprilRECIPIENT:
panaCHARACTERS/PAIRINGS: Turkey, Greece; Egpyt, France, England and Russia make guest appearances.
RATING: PG-13 for bad words orz
NOTES: Not as sunny as it should be, orz. I'm sorry to whoever that is looking for a happier fic... And, there may be historical inaccuracies since my only references came from Wikipedia. orz. I still hope everyone enjoys!
SUMMARY: Turkey gets hit by an earthquake. Greece is, surprisingly, one of the first to help.
Follow the Stars Home
The three nations on the other side of the deck were mumbling to themselves, shooting occasional glances at him. Greece ignored them, focusing his sight on the line of fleets from the Ottoman Empire and Egypt. ‘Bastards,’ he thought to himself, grinding his teeth. He wanted nothing more but to take hold of the ship himself and ram it into that largest one right across him where he knew that smug bastard would be standing, arms crossed, with that goddamned smirk on his face.
God knows how much he had wanted to rip it off that bastard’s face.
Unfortunately, France, England and Russia did not think that was a good idea. “Patience,” they had said. “We’re going to make their supplies run out before we hit them hard. It’s a game of perseverance, son.”
Greece only hoped their supplies wouldn’t run out first.
“The Greece government pledges its aid and support for Turkey, and its citizens…”
Greece was among the first few who had immediately gone over to check on Turkey after the two earthquakes had struck. His brows were tightly knitted, and that small scowl of his had been constantly in place ever since he stepped foot into the damaged country.
Turkey must have been very hurt.
At that, Greece’s eyes hardened and he quickened his pace to find that “egotistic bastard”.
“Only I can hurt you that much, bastard…”
The lingering smoke of gunpowder hung in the air, sheltering the Turk fleets from clear view. Nonetheless, Greece saw it, the fire burning on the hulls of the vessels, ships sunk, overthrown, all underneath his cliffs.
He spotted the Ottoman Empire, with his mask half blasted away, revealing those eyes, which were, for once, not looking at him mockingly, but were filled to the brim with anger, as he and Egypt rowed away in a tiny boat.
Somehow, Greece did not feel as satisfied as he should have felt.
When he saw the once proud nation hunched over in that dirty, dingy alley, one hand on the wall to support himself, the other clutching his stomach, face writhed in pain, Greece knew he could stick a knife into that man’s back and give him that death he had wanted to centuries ago.
He would not, of course. Sticking knifes in people’s backs when they were unaware was not an honorable thing to do, and his mother had taught him to be an honorable person.
But mother, what if it was the other person’s request?
“Kill me,” Turkey rasped, once he had spotted Greece. “I know you’ve always wanted to, kid. Now’s yer chance. Stick a knife into me. C’mon.”
Greece stared straight into those anguish-filled eyes, his own emotionless.
“Do it,” the other’s voice was a mere whisper, almost pleadingly.
He took a step forward. And another, another, till he reached the trembling figure.
And then, he punched him.
He had found an extraordinary treasure in the halls of the Ottoman Empire’s mansion.
A cat, not one of his, but a stray one. Still, its silky pure white coat told him that it was of high breeding. Those mismatched eyes, one amber and one blue, stared at him regally, as it stood proudly, its tail parallel to its back.
Greece had never seen a cat like this before.
“What’s your name, kitty?” He whispered, getting to his knees and reaching a hand out to gently pet its fur.
“Ankara,” a voice replied from behind him.
Greece scowled, and prepared to turn around to punch the nation in his shins, when the Ottoman Empire stepped up beside him and kneeled down as well, tenderly scratching the cat’s ears. It purred.
“You like her, kid?”
Greece blinked, surprised. “Y-yes.” He replied when the empire shot him a sideways questioning glance.
“Then she’s yours.”
Turkey simply lay there, on the dark, dingy alley, a bruise forming on his cheek. “Trying to make me hurt more before I die, are ye?” He laughed, a hollow sound to Greece’s ears.
The alley was quiet, void of any sounds except for the Turk’s breathing.
“Ya know, it used to be Egypt, you, an’ me. And I don’t know when it just became me only…”
Greece was silent.
“I…I never –”
“Shut up, bastard.” The Greek stepped forward, lifted his shirt over his head, and jammed it harshly onto Turkey’s stomach. “You’re bleeding.”
The other nation hissed as Greece took out a bottle of disinfectant and poured a generous amount over his wound. “W-where did ya get that?”
Greece miraculously produced a roll of bandages and started wrapping the other’s wound. “My government pledged its aid for you, so now I’m here to save your behind.” A slow smile spread over the Greek’s face when the Turk winced at a particular hard tug. “Couldn’t let you die yet, bastard. You still owe me money.”
Turkey laughed, and this time, it was his usual, arrogant laugh. “Still the same, tactless kid. I tell ye, yer not gonna get any girls that way, kid.”
Greece scowled, tugging hard again. “I’m not like you, bastard.”
The other nation simply snorted.
“…Ankara just gave birth. I’ll give you one of her kits.” Greece said nonchalantly, ignoring the way Turkey’s face paled. “On second thought, maybe you’d like the whole lot?”
“You know I hate cats, brat!”
He hesitated on the threshold of his new home, peering into the grand mansion. In his hand he clutched a piece of paper, with the address of his new home written on it in beautiful cursive writing. A woman’s, he had guess before.
However it was not, as he found out later.
It was France’s.
Greece did not like Napoleon from the very start, but since he did grant him some sort of freedom from that bastard, he did not mind him so much.
“Hello, Greece.”
Turning slightly behind him, the Greek came face to face with the Egyptian. “Egypt…? What are you doing here?”
“To congratulate you,” the Egyptian held out a covered basket.
Greece peered at it, head tilted in wonder, for a moment. And then he seemed to snap out of whatever reverie he was in, took the proffered basket, and smiled. “Thank you. Would you like to come in?”
Egypt shook his head. “…Today I’m just Sadiq’s messenger.”
“I don’t want to hear anything that bastard has to say.” Greece responded immediately.
“Herakles…” The Egyptian sighed, a bit remorsefully. “We cannot choose our families. They are God’s gift to us, as we are to them.
“That is why we cannot destroy kindred; even though our chains may stretch, they will never break.”
The next time he saw Turkey, he was lying on a cot in his house, feeling as if his heart was being torn into two.
“What are you doing here, bastard?” Greece hissed, eyes slitting in pain.
Turkey’s eyes showed uncharacteristic worry. “Just comin’ here to check on ya, brat.” He shook his head and, sitting down, wiped the Greek’s forehead with his sleeve. “Ya really can’t do nothin’ without me, can ya?”
“S-shut up –!” A groan tore out of Greece’s throat as aftershocks shook the house. His lights swung from the ceiling precariously; the ornaments on his bookshelves tinkled and wobbled; there was a loud creak as splinters from the ceiling cracked and fell down.
Turkey held the Greek close as all these happened, all the while patting gently, albeit awkwardly, on his back, trying to soothe his pain.
When it was all over, Greece broke the silence first.
“I know why you asked me to kill you.”
“And I know why ya didn’t,” replied Turkey, sounding arrogant. Greece imagined him wearing his signature smirk again.
“That’s ‘cause we’re family, yeah?”
Greece smiled softly despite himself.
“Well then, family, remember to feed my cats.”
---
Some notes:
- My prompt was based on the Greek-Turkish earthquake diplomacy.
- Greece's flashback in the beginning was a bit based on the Battle of Navarino.
- The Ionian Islands, a part of Greece, had been captured by France under Napoleon's rule. They were given the right to govern themselves for the first time in a while.
- Egypt's words to Greece were real quotes.