2P!Hetalia x Abused!Child!Reader: England Part 2

You crawled into the closet, trying to control your breathing as they got closer to the bedroom. It was hard not to cry. Even now you were furiously scrubbing at your eyes, trying to stop the tears. If you stopped the tears, then you stopped the sobs that were sure to follow. And then maybe they wouldn’t hear or involve you in their arguments.

This was worse than Other Father’s home.

You hated it when they got drunk, because these guys fought. Like, fist to face fought. Oliver was the medium. He was tougher than you would have thought. Whenever they fought, he got between them without any fear in his eyes. But they weren’t his eyes, at the same time. They turned a darker blue, and swirled with pink. His voice got deeper and more playful too, which wasn’t good. Playful when his eyes got dark wasn’t okay. His voice sometimes got deeper when you two were playing, but his eyes never changed unless he was angry. That was when he got scary.

Tonight that happened, on top of Allen and Matt fist-fighting (a bat and hockey stick were picked up at one point even), and Francois broke a wine bottle against the wall. He was really drunk. Your uncles were fighting, Francois was waving around and threatening to use his broken bottle, Oliver was grinning creepily and threatening all of them with his tone of voice, and you had screamed in the midst of it all when an unidentified flying object flew past your head and hit the wall. You ran into your room, shut the closet door behind you, and held your bunny close.

“All of you, stay. Where. You. Are,” Came Oliver’s suddenly icy voice as he came to your door. “Poppet?”

No. His voice was still dark. You stayed in the closet, the only hiding place your Other Father took the longest time to get to. It wasn’t that the closet was the safest place—oh no. It was simply the place it took him longest to find you before the beatings began.

Oliver came into your room and quickly heard the sniffling, so he immediately went towards it. He needed this to be cleared up. He needed you to love him again. He needed—

He needed you to stop crying in the corner of the closet.

Oliver knelt down, heart breaking. “Oh, my poppet…” He held out his hand, waiting for you to come to him instead of scaring you further. “(Y/n)-cake, come to Daddy…”

You whimpered, but his voice was soft. Soothing. Sweet. But your Other Father, his voice could be sweet too. You remained huddled in the corner, waiting for him to grab your ankle and drag you out of there screaming and kicking—

“(Y/n), I am so, so sorry you had to see that,” He whispered with a cracked voice. “Please, we won’t fight anymore. I was trying to stop them, please sweetheart, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

 “…Y-y-you ar-aren’t angry no more?”

“No Cuppy-cake,” Oliver jutted his bottom lip out and nearly cried. Poor thing, you were terrified. He hadn’t meant for it to be like this, hadn’t meant for you to be terrified so soon of him…

Why was he seemingly cursed?

You slowly scooted over to him, and he helped you stand up. You were shaking though—Oliver placed a hand on your back and lead you to the bed. “(Y/n), sometimes we…we fight. It’s all that Al and Matt have ever known to do, and it’s all that our family has…has really known…”

He realized that with great sadness, their family really wasn’t all that better of a home than your previous one had been. They were very violent people…

He wondered if you would have better luck being raised in the Other World, with Arthur instead of him. With the way that you were shivering in fear, and as much as he loved you, he couldn’t help but think of how much better off you could be in their world that was less violent than this one. They didn’t fight like this, he was certain.

~~~~~

Later that night, after he had coaxed her into slumber, Oliver moved back into his office to do some paperwork. It was long and full of distractions though, and the constant thoughts that Arthur would be a better father than him kept repeating over and over again. He only ever saw the man on the annual basis of the Other World meeting, where the second players cross the portal into the first players’ realm to discuss the world happenings and make sure nobody was causing their double any problems either. It was once a year, and usually lasted a week.

He hated Arthur’s potty mouth though. Oh, and Allen would HATE Oliver if he gave (Y/n) to Arthur’s care! Allen had cried over a few times already, such as when she woke up crying and he couldn’t help but cry with her, or that one time he tried to teach her baseball and the ball bonked her head lightly.

It hadn’t hurt her, Allen was the crier in the family and he felt so guilty about nearly hurting her he let (Y/n) punch him in the gut. He had cried even harder after that, and Oliver got the story out of the child when he walked in on Allen sniffling and his daughter holding an ice pack to the uncle’s belly.

Oliver was snapped out of his thoughts when he felt a presence behind him…He snapped his body around and threw a book at the intruder standing in the doorway.

Francois didn’t even flinch.

The Brit sighed. “What are you doing? I could have killed you! What if that had been a knife?!”

The Frenchman raised a brow. “No. You definitely would not have. That was a horrible throw.” The book had hit the wall a full four and a half feet away from him. “Look, I need to talk to you.”

Oliver huffed, sitting back down. “What?”

“I sobered up enough to realize that situation was not one for a child to be in.”

“Are you completely sober now?”

Francois gave him a nasty look. “Sober enough.”

“…Fair enough.”

“Anyways,” he continued, “I realized that we did this to our past colonies as well. (Y/n) doesn’t need to have history repeated on her, no? I’ve heard her screams at night. She doesn’t need our shadows in her nightmares either.”

“Er…No…” He tapped his index fingers together and looked to the side like a little boy who was being scolded by a mother.

“So perhaps it isn’t the best idea that we stay together like we do,” He sighed.

“W-what?!” Oliver blinked and straightened up quickly. “B-but! But I love you all! You need to stay with me!”

Francois just rolled his eyes. “We need to return to our own countries too, you know. I cannot stand American culture. (Y/n) needs to know where she will live for the rest of her short life.”

“It won’t be short!” Oliver cut in. “It…won’t be…I’ll make sure of it.”

“Well, you need to take her back home with you,” He huffed. “I am returning to my home country after tomorrow. Mathieu is returning home soon as well.”

“But…They’ve been getting along so wonderfully!” Oliver felt tears forming in his eyes too. He was scared of what would happen when he was alone with (Y/n). He had already arranged to set up his work space at home, as he could not leave the child alone. Even with Flying Chocolate Bunny and his other magical friends flying around the place all the time, they were not proper caretakers for a toddler girl.

“Did they get along so wonderfully tonight?” Francois chuckled dryly. “(Y/n) may make them get along, but they needed to release their violent energy. We can only be together under one roof for so long, you know this.”

“…I do,” The British man rubbed his shoulder sadly and sighed. “I’ll ask Allen about (Y/n)’s last name being changed so she and I can get plane tickets.”

“Good man,” Francois was not one to touch anybody, he loathed most forms of contact, but he did pull Oliver into a hug. “Our family is not splitting up. Do not overreact. We just cannot be under the same roof for over a week like we have now.”

~~~~~

*Four Days Later…*

“Wow,” You breathed.

“Do you like it?” He set your bag down and bit his lip. “I know that it can be quite overwhelming to some…”

His house was currently decked out in bright pinks and purples. Sometimes he painted it in bright blues, or added a bit of orange or green here and there, but as of right now it was pink and purple all over with only a few rooms painted white. “The house is big, but you’ll learn your way around eventually Love. As of right now I can show you around and walk with you until you are comfortable enough to be on your own, alright?”

“Okay!” You grinned up at him, and the love in your eyes blew him away. “I love it already, Daddy!”

His heart fluttered, and he picked you up and spun your bodies until he nearly fell over from dizziness and you were laughing so hard you were crying. Any thoughts that he had about giving you to Arthur had gone away completely. He loved you too much to do anything of the sort.

Besides, he thought. There was probably another you in their dimension as well. He would need to phone Arthur and ask.

~~~~~

Flying Chocolate Bunny did not make himself known to you until a few days after you had settled in and gotten unpacked. Your room was…Very bright, to say the least. Oliver promised that he would paint it your favorite color, but for now it was the white guestroom next to his own bedroom, just in case you had anymore nightmares. He always let you sleep with him, and you had the option to do so each night, but you wanted to try sleeping on your own because “I’m a big girl Daddy I can do it!”

It broke his heart that on most nights since you started doing this you could not do it on your own.

There was a white dresser in one corner, a bed with soft pink sheets, and what was originally a desk was turned into a place for all of the stuffed animals and toys he got you. They were also in the closet and a chest at the end of your bed; he went all out.

The magical creatures kept themselves hidden away and watched you in curiosity, but one night while Oliver was making dinner while you were playing in the living room, Flying Chocolate Bunny allowed himself to become visible to you in the shadows.

“Hello?” FCB drew his ears back; he tried to keep himself soft spoken as to not scare you.

You looked up quickly, and grew quiet. “…Hi…”

“I’m Flying Chocolate Bunny,” He came into the light and sniffed the air around you. “I am assigned by the Keepers of the Magical Realms to keep England out of trouble and make sure he is not causing any of it. I have been Oliver’s mentor, magical familiar, guard, and friend ever since they deemed him guilty of being Jack the Ripper two centuries ago. He has not misbehaved…often…since the incident. Who are you?”

Who was Jack the Ripper, you wondered? “I’m (Y/n). Daddy adopted me.”

“CHOCOLATE!” Oliver squealed at the doorway.

"Baker," Chocolate tensed.

“Chocolate, you’re back! I was wondering when you would be back to meet (Y/n)!” He giggled like a child and ran in to hug his best magical friend. “Goodness gracious have I missed you! How was your visit to Flying Mint Bunny?”

Chocolate grimaced. “My cousin is faring well. Arthur had adopted a young child as well, so we spent a while doing our business and watching them together. It was unnerving to come back and see that you adopted the same girl, Baker.”

“…Huh?” Was all you could manage.

“Oh dearie, please excuse me,” Oliver giggled and turned to you with his cheek smushed against Flying Chocolate Bunny’s. “There are some things that I’ll need to tell you when you get older about the magical realms. Chocolate is a very dear friend of mine, and he is someone that only special people can see!” He looked at Chocolate Bunny.

The winged bunny was silent until Oliver nudged him. “Y-yeah! That means that you’re a special little girl!”

“He’s like the fairies I tell you about during story time,” Oliver added. “There are other magical creatures too, who are still being shy!” He giggled and looked around. “But they exist Poppet, and you’re special enough to see them. Why don’t you both help me with dinner and get to know one another?”

“Who’s Jack the Ripper?” You stood up and began to follow them in confusion.

Oliver visibly stiffened, and Chocolate snorted and climbed to sit on the baker’s shoulder. “Um…” Ollie chuckled nervously. “Somebody you don’t need to know about right now.”

Darn that chocolate bunny.

They focused instead on finishing the lasagna, which was the third best lasagna in the whole second universe Oliver thought…it was right after Luciano and Flavio’s own pastas. Chocolate Bunny was watching Oliver intensely over the course of their cooking, while the English man and you were singing together and happy. Chocolate hadn’t seen Oliver this genuinely happy in years.

His baker almost always faked his happiness nowadays, so it was a nice feeling to see him and you being happy together. Chocolate had thought the same of Arthur and the Other (Y/n), who was the complete opposite of Oliver and usually always grouchy and swore often. Chocolate witnessed him and (Y/n) playing with dolls together, and the other Brit was actually smiling. Chocolate thought that you, Oliver’s (Y/n), would be the opposite child of what he saw at Arthur’s. He thought that maybe you would be a trouble maker or a brat like Sealand.

But no. Of all the people in both the first and second worlds, you and your first personas were the only ones to stay the same. Or more accurately, you, the one (Y/n), existed in both universes. There may have been two of you, but you were both the same person.

Chocolate thought that was very odd indeed. Perhaps it was fated.

~~~~~

Later that night, Oliver took you straight to his room when it was bedtime. You didn’t mind it; you had grown accustomed to his coddling. It was like he was cramming three weeks of love and smothering to make up for the horrors you faced for three years.

Chocolate was flying around, but by this point several jabs at Oliver’s questionable past had been made by the sarcastic cousin of the mint bunny you all know and love, so the British man dared not leave him alone with you. He loved you too much to let you know about that darker side of him, and you were already so damaged…

So, he picked up a bedtime story and had you against his side reading along (you were slowly learning, he was proud to say) while Chocolate was resting on the pillow beside Oliver.

It also bothered the Englishman that the bunny made fun of his and your matching pink onesies! It was adorable dang it!

“…And they lived happily ever after,” He finished the story and shut the book.

You were snoring softly beside him.

Oliver set the book on the nightstand and turned off the lap, enveloping you all in darkness.

“…You know she won’t live forever?” Chocolate whispered.

He grit his teeth. “I’m working on a spell.”

“The Magic Council doesn’t allow those sorts of things from wizards like you.”

“Well, I’m older than most members of the Magic Council and the 1800s was two centuries ago!” He hissed back. “I’ve changed and your reports to them prove it!”

“They’re saying that my reports are getting to be biased,” The magical guardian and familiar sighed. “They know that you’re my best friend and I’ve cut a few corners to make sure you’re safe. That incident with (F/n) (L/n) was only forgiven by them because the man abused the child. You know Tink makes fun of me for being your favorite.”

“And I love you too! I try not to play favorites but I love you! I really really do!” Oliver squealed softly and pulled his bunny forwards to plant a giant kiss on his cheek; the other arm stayed around you. “My word as a nation still counts as something, and I have never asked for favors from the Council other than to visit Arthur in the Other World. If I can’t at least extend her life then I’ll give her a piece of land and make her one of us.”

“…You want her to go through that at her age?”

“God no, not right now! But once she gets older, and if I can’t convince the Council to allow me this spell in the meantime, then I will let her have a piece of my land so we’ll live as long as the other.”

“You really do love her then,” Chocolate’s ear twitched. “You love her enough to say something as insane as that.”

“I do,” He nodded once. “I really, really do. She calls me Daddy, Chocolate,” His eyes looked into the bunny’s pleadingly like a sad puppy. “Not even Allen or Matt call me Daddy anymore!”

“You had your chance with Sealand recently.”

His mood soured. “That child belongs with the Nordics. He was murdering animals after the war, you remember that! He tried to cut off one of your wings! He—”

“He was a screwed up kid who needed professional help and you abandoned him for twenty years.”

They both looked down at you, but Oliver’s face twisted in emotional pain at that remark.

“Just remember,” The familiar continued after a moment, “you’re smothering this little girl now, like you did with Allen and Matt. She looks like she needs it now because of her past, but that will change once those wounds are healed. If she winds up representing a town or city or county of yours, you can’t abandon or wage a war with her if she wants to be on her own. Look where it’s left you in the past. Unless they make colonies on the moon or Mars, (Y/n) is your last shot at raising a child the right way. Don’t—”

“Stop,” Oliver whispered. “Please.”

His voice wavered, and Flying Chocolate Bunny licked his cheek. It was wet with a few escaped tears.

“You made your point. I’m going to give her a good life. I promise I will. But I can’t outlive my baby! I can’t! I love her too much!” He rolled over and hugged you tightly to his chest, hoping that you hadn’t woken up from their conversation.

You had not. Oliver continued to hug you while his familiar settled in the crook of his neck.

"I love her so much it hurts, Chocolate."

~~~~~

*A Few Months Later, Inspired by so many videos on YouTube*

“Look (Y/n)! There he is!” Allen pointed Oliver out. “That’s him. He has to do this once a month for a weekend. Er, he doesn’t HAVE to. But he wants to, you know? It’s part of representing his country and all. That’s why I’m here babysitting you, besides you bein’ an absolute doll!” He snickered and held your hand that had been pulling slightly against his hair.

Oliver was, somehow, a part of the Royal Guard. He was a representation of his country, he knew how to pull strings and volunteer for what he wanted to do (whether it be magical or not). As of right now, you and Al caught him standing against the wall staring straight ahead with a firm frown on his face.

It was the first time you had ever seen him so serious. And somehow you knew that it wouldn’t last very long at all.

“Wanna make him smile?” Al grinned up at you, as you were sitting on his shoulders. “Do you remember that song I taught you in the car on our way over?”

“Yeah!” You exclaimed. “DADDY!” You shouted, waving your arms.

Oliver’s eyes flickered, and one could swear they widened, before he returned to looking straight ahead. He fidgeted a little as he somehow tried to stand up even straighter, to appear taller and more intimidating.

But honestly, this was Oliver.

“Hey, Pops!” Allen grinned as he approached the gate. “We got a special surprise for ya…”

Oliver’s eyes did not flicker, but he already felt his lips twitch. Fu—shi—oh poop.

Allen counted down from three, and then you both burst into song: “You’re beautiful! You’re beautiful, it’s truuueee~!”

At first it was the shaking of his chest, and then the smile crept up on his face as you and Allen kept singing. Finally, you could hear poorly stifled wheezing and saw that Oliver’s entire body was shaking with suppressed laughter. Even the guard stationed on Oliver’s other side was trying to contain his snickers.

Finally, you two had to stop because you were laughing too…and a crowd had formed to see the guards lose it.

Later that night, when Oliver came home, he immediately took off his shoe and attempted to beat Allen with it. “I. LAUGHED. FOR. THE. ENTIRE. DAY!” He screeched.

“IT WAS WORTH IT!” Allen cackled.

It was. You sat there giggling, and attempted to run away before Ollie caught you and attacked your face with butterfly kisses and raspberries to the cheeks that tickled.

“You’re both horrible!” Oliver whined when he was done and collapsed on the living room floor with you on his chest. “I laughed for the entire day after that, people stared at me, you both suck!”

“We love you too!” You grinned up at them both.

“We think, you’re beautiful~” Allen sang, and cackled where he sat when Oliver burst into uncontrollable giggling and resumed trying to beat him with the shoe.

~~~~~

Matt was never quite as fun as Allen was, as much as you hated to say it, because you loved him just as much! He was just more calm, was probably the right way to put it. But he had a pet polar bear and you thought that was the coolest thing you had ever seen in your life.

“This is Kuma,” He introduced you two for the first time, since Oliver took you to visit Canada. “He may seem big, but he’s harmless and sweet.”

“What?” The bear looked up from a toy ball.

“He can talk?” You whispered in awe.

Kuma blinked at you, and then up at Matt. “What are you?”

“Oliver gave him to me when I was still a kid,” He smiled. “He extended Kuma’s life to match my own too, so here he is…All six hundred pounds of him centuries later. He isn’t even fully grown yet.”

“Because you aren’t fully grown yet either?” You asked innocently.

“No,” That actually made Matt blush. You have no idea what sort of a feat that is. “I’m . . . I’m just not an old man physically yet!” He defended himself. “I’m a couple hundred years old!”

“Well I’m three years old and Daddy says it’s okay to be smaller than other people.”

“I’m not smaller than other people!” Matt exclaimed with a rising blush. “I’m the second largest country in the world!”

“When Uncle Francois stands up straight he’s taller than you.”

“Well I’m stronger than him!”

“Uncle Allen lifted a whole car once when my toy rolled under it.”

“Well I can beat him in a fight any day!”

“Daddy says nearly everyone beats you in tickle fights.”

“Look kid,” Matt’s blush had spread to his ears and was currently the same color as his national flag. He knelt down and placed an arm around your shoulder, and the other hand formed a finger that pointed in your face. “I’m taller than a lot of other nations older than me, I can fit a six-hundred pound polar bear in my lap and help lift him into my truck, and that tickle fight thing is a lie because I am not ticklish!”

“Really?” You asked in genuine curiosity.

“Really,” He huffed out. “Now you get to know Kuma here while I go check on Oliver and our lunches. I really hope you like grilled cheese!” Matt stood up straight and brushed himself off.

“I do!” You exclaimed with an innocent smile on your face.

“Good. Now—FUCK!” He swore and fell to the ground as Kuma, all six-hundred pounds of him, tackled the Canadian to the ground and began to lick his face.

You squeaked and stood up in fear—the polar bear wasn’t harmless apparently!—but then you realized that he was just licking Matt’s cheeks. Your uncle had been trapped on the ground and his glasses had been knocked off, so you could see his eyes that were uncharacteristically shining with a smile that had not yet graced his lips. He was kicking though, and was half swearing as little giggles began to come into the air. Kuma was licking his cheeks, his ears, his chin...everywhere!

“Why on EARTH did that filthy word just—” Oliver came storming into the room with a dishtowel in his hands, and he too stopped and stared at the sight.

“K-Kumahaaaa! Stahp! Get up, GET UP! STAHAHAP!” His arms were trapped underneath the big polar bear, and all that he could apparently do was kick his legs and shake his head as Kuma licked it anyway.

“…You said you could lift him!” You had to yell over the laughter. “And I thought you weren’t ticklish!”

“IHIHI LIHIHIHIED! IHIHI LIHIHIED!” He squealed when Kuma began to lick his neck. “HEHEHELP! I CAN’T MOHOHOHOHOVE!”

"You deserve it for swearing like that!" Oliver just began to giggle himself, and came to crouch down beside you. “I told you any of us can take him in a tickle fight, didn’t I? Isn’t he just the cutest thing? He hardly ever laughs, so sometimes we have to remind him how to! Let’s check on lunch, okay?”

Kuma only stopped when Matt began to gasp for breath, and at that point lunch was ready. You and Oliver comforted him while you all ate, and Kuma just sat off to the side looking as smug as a polar bear could be…

Even when Matt threw dirty glances at him. "...If any of you say a word of this to anyone I'll kill you," This could not be taken seriously with his embarrassed pout, and he squeaked when Oliver poked his side.

~~~

Unfortunately, Francois was not as easy to get along with as the other uncles were. He always smelled like stale cigarettes and never smiled either—when you asked Oliver if he was ticklish like Matt, you were told to “never, ever, EVER tickle Francois. Leave that to the adults.”

But you saw the way Oliver looked at him, and you somehow knew that Oliver loved Francois in a different way than Allen or Matt. He said that he had known Francois for as long as he could remember, but they had always fought until the past century. He also said that he had always loved Francois.

Chocolate said that Francois was bad for Oliver—he wasn’t always nice, but he usually made Ollie happy. When he made the Brit sad, he did his best to cheer the emotional man up. Even so, they had spent many dark years together and Chocolate believed that Francois hurt Oliver more than not.

This made you suspicious of him too, because Francois had not been very nice to you either. He had not been mean, but he had not been nice. The night all of them fought and made you cry was still in your memory, even if it was fading, and so you already did not like him all too much. You only knew that Oliver loved him, and so you decided that you would just be careful around the Frenchman.

Well, the day Francois came across the English Channel, he had taken you and Oliver out for lunch. Chocolate Bunny had not followed you all because he needed to do “magical bunny things,” so you walked behind the adults while they talked.

“The meetings of the EU between the nations are still bullshi - crap,” Francois was saying. “We do not have our medium there to break fights apart anymore,” He nudged Oliver with a shoulder, and both him and you smiled when the Brit giggled. “Luciano has taken that role upon himself now.”

“Oh dear,” Oliver chuckled. “Is it bad?”

“Oui. He has taken to throwing knives at anyone who talks out of place. We either sit still or we fight him back.”

“But not you,” He added quickly. “…Right?”

“Non,” Francois shook his head. “I do not care enough to fight anyone else when we are at war with terrorism already…And I miss your presence there.”

“Brexit was a nasty business, but it was my people and government’s decisions,” He sighed. “I don’t miss the fighting at those sorts of meetings, but I miss seeing other nations more often. It’s just (Y/n) and I nowadays,” He chuckled and turned to smile at you, and you beamed up at them both.

Francois turned to look at you too, and slowed so you could walk between them. “She has grown.”

“She helps me in the bakery!” He said proudly.

“I do!” You added.

“He does not feed you nothing but sweets, does he?” Francois cocked an eyebrow.

“No,” You giggled. He had made you giggle! “I get sour things too!”

Both of them snorted, and Oliver held your hand. “I feed her properly! She’s nice and healthy now, not skin and bones like when we first met!”

“I am happy for you both,” Francois’ lip lifted into what you thought was a smile. “You are both good for each other and you deserve that.”

You slipped your free hand into his as Oliver announced that this was the café you would have lunch at.

A few minutes later, you had all ordered (the line was not long at all) and Oliver went to the bathroom while you and Francois found a table.

The Frenchman made an attempt to smile down at you. “You love him, no?”

“Um…I love him a lot.”

“Good,” He nodded. “And he obviously loves you. He is not, ah, making you do anything you do not want to?”

You shook your head, then hesitated and nodded. “Well…Sometimes he makes me eat my vegetables even though I hate broccoli.”

He snorted at that, and smiled fully. “So nothing like your old life, then.”

“No…”

“Good,” He nodded. “I believe that your life with Oliver will be a good, long one. He is a good man and is better than most I have met. The horrors of this world have their effects on him in a different way than the rest of us . . . It is good that you love him. He has more love than the rest of us.”

Somehow, in a horrible way, you understood all of this. “Do you love him?”

“For a man who has never believed in or felt loved by anyone else?” He rested his head on his hands and shut his eyes. “ . . . More than you could ever know.”

“Nobody ever loved me before Oliver saved me too. I wouldah’ died if he hadn’t found me that day.”

His eyes were shut now, and his voice quiet, “We have that in common then.”

“He found you in an alley?”

“Non.”

“What did Daddy save you from?” You realized that this was not a conversation most people had with a young child, and felt almost proud that Francois was discussing the matter with you.

“…He saved me from myself.”

That you could not comprehend, but you knew that Francois did not go around telling people that and again felt a stab of pride (and a new feeling…was it pity?). You decided that the Frenchman was just sad like you had been. He wasn’t a child anymore, he was an adult. He didn’t have a daddy who loved him like Oliver loved you, because maybe Francois was not rescued from his abusive environment. Oliver was all that he really had.

Oliver was all that you both had, and that was what you could understand from this conversation. Francois loved him back just as much, if not more, than you did for the many years of kindness and love he offered.

The British man came back and Francois lifted his head and opened his eyes. The heavy mood between you two vanished as Oliver brought a more happy energy to the table, and you realized that your Daddy brought happiness wherever he went unlike many other people in this world. Thanks to him, you and Francois both had light in your lives.

Thanks to him, you decided to love Francois and every other sad person and nation with that same light.

~~~

Oliver took his hands away from your eyes. “Happy one-year anniversary, Poppet!”

It was March again, and the World Meeting was being held between all human representatives of the nations. It had been one year to the day that Oliver found you in that alley, and so he brought you to your first meeting to show everyone how you were faring.

And you were faring well! You had become more social and a little more outgoing since you helped Oliver in his bakery, and you had gained enough weight to be considered healthy (Allen, Matt, and Francois stayed on Oliver about not spoiling or smothering you to death with the constant sweets he made too, so you really were a healthy weight). As for your size, you were still a small child. That could not be helped. The first few years of a human’s life are the most important for cognitive function in the brain and physical development, and neither had been cared for properly until Oliver rescued you. He had no idea how you were able to speak so well, even in that toddler voice, and upon asking you he concluded that you might have just been an old soul (“I watched TV a lot and learned how to talk from listening. Other Father yelled lots, and I didn’t like that he yelled lots so I didn’t yell lots like he did”) who was lucky enough to find the nations. You had not grown very well and were small for your age, but that had improved. You had grown a full three inches since you came to live in England!

“Hey kiddo,” Allen came up and hugged you. “Glad you could make it here!”

“Uncle Al!” Your voice squeaked out, and you hugged him back as more friends and family (or curious second players who had forgotten you) came to see you.

“Get ready for eight hours of fighting,” Matt chuckled and hugged you next, then looked up at Oliver. “Was it the smartest idea to bring her here?”

“Yes,” The Brit grinned. His eyes began to swirl blue and pink in their magically dark way, “Because if anybody upsets my daughter today I’ll make sure that they get a…special treatment.”

Most nations around them heard this, and spread the word to keep the violence to a minimum that day. Besides, most of them liked kids anyway (some a lot more than others). Kids were their future. Kids meant that they had futures.

And rumor had it, Oliver had found a spell to keep you alive for as long as he was. It was meant for a witch’s familiar, an animal that helped the witch perform magic for all her days alive, but it would work the same on a human. He would cast it once you were old enough, but for now you needed to be raised properly.

Italy yelled into the air, and everyone took their seats and settled down as the speeches began. It was probably the most organized the second personas had been in many, many years. There was no fighting, because despite Oliver’s happy demeanor he truly was a feared nation by all. He had ruled half the world for a damn good reason, and he hadn’t ruled by being nice. He had settled down since that time, with only one or two separate incidences of darkness outside of wars (Jack the Ripper, a few missing people whose last stops were his bakery, and your own missing biological father).

Now, returning back to you, this was exciting at first and quickly turned boring. You had no idea what they were talking about (trade agreements? Money? Booooriiiiing!) and fidgeted in Oliver’s lap. Eventually, he engaged you in a few rounds of Tic-Tac-Toe on a sheet of paper and you both began to doodle after that. Allen sat beside you both, and he slipped Oliver his headphones under the table…

An hour later you three were watching Netflix on Oliver’s phone and really getting into My Little Pony. Would the ponies win for the umpteenth time or finally lose this battle?! Will they remain friends or split apart forever?! Even though you and Oliver shared the headphones, you had subtitles on and Allen was reading those. Turns out you were all bored when there wasn’t any fighting at these meetings.

Canada had to nudge America twice when it was their turn to speak, and you filled him in on the episode he missed when he sat back down.

Overall it was a boring few hours before lunch was called, and everyone scrambled up to get away. Some of them probably wouldn’t come back.

“I’m sorry, Love,” Oliver chuckled nervously. You two were going out to lunch with Allen, Matt, and Francois, but you all wanted to go to the hotel and get ready. “I really thought that we would have more fun…I just wanted to show everyone how happy we are!”

“We’re happy!” You exclaimed. “Allen was too, he was watching the show with us!”

“No no, I meant that we’re happy. We have happy lives together. Right?”

“Of course!” You gasped. “I love you!”

“Well, I love you too!” His chest swelled in joy at those words. “And I didn’t think that things would be so…boring with you with me. No offense, it isn’t you! It’s just…I guess the meeting wasn’t the best place to bring a child,” He chuckled awkwardly.

“Well…Nobody was fighting,” You pointed out. “Cuz you told them not to!”

Oliver blinked. Not only that, but he felt pride that they had all behaved for you. There were a few…darker countries that he knew who probably did not fight out of fear of Oliver’s punishment, instead of their respect for little kids (some of them he knew for a fact thought of children in the worst ways possible…). But they had all behaved for you either way!

“So do they love you too?” You asked.

“N-no, Poppet,” He giggled and continued carrying you. “They respect my power . . . And how you chose my cupcake a year ago today. I was so afraid you would choose someone else, or someone who wouldn’t give you a good life…”

And there were many   b a d   e n d i n g s   in this world, with these darker nations, that you could have chosen.

Oliver’s was a   g o o d   e n d i n g.

“There were a lot of frowning people,” You pouted.

“But we weren’t frowning, were we?” He smiled. “And you chose me. I’m your Daddy. We’re a happy little family.”

“Yeah!” You giggled and hugged his neck.

 You two continued on to the hotel, and met up with the rest of the FACE family to have your anniversary lunch. You really were lucky—you loved Oliver with all of your little heart, and would continue to do so until the day you both died. Your future would be long and rough, but together you two could bring light into other nation's lives.