CountryHumans Oneshots {Closed - forever}

? (British) Family reunion (1) ?

Part. 1, Before.

British family:

New Zealand: half-Son

Australia: half-son

America: eldest son

Canada: second eldest son

Wales: youngest brother

Ireland: Britain's elder brother

Northern Ireland: Britain's elder brother

Scotland: Eldest brother

~~~~

Ireland groaned, shoving his hands into his pockets, as his breath clouded around his mouth before disappearing into thin air. His rolled-up sleeves exposing his goosebump littered forearms.

"Did that bastard have to pick the coldest month for a family reunion?" Ire asked puffing scorching air into his hands rubbing them together, shuddering.

"Don't talk about our little brother like that!" Wales snapped glaring at Ire while he was unpacking the trunk full of luggage. he dressed in warmer clothes than Ireland, who was in a brown waist coats, black dress pants, button-up shirt with rolled-up sleeves and finger-less gloves. Instead wales was in a thick woolen turtle neck, jeans and a beanie, his devil horns that protruded out from the knitted material. And his thin devil's tail swaying side to side like a down at his ankles like a cat.

"He's busy enough with the kids and work. Be thankful that we can even see him and his family!" Wales scolded, slamming the trunk's door shut. Ireland snorted, "that bastard won't ever be my brother-" Wales shot him a frigid glare making him shut up.

Scotland let out a loud belly laugh. He was in the same dress-code as Ireland, only he had a heavy fur-lined coat on, gnawing on a piece of gum. Ireland growled but said nothing in return, deciding to die of frostbite in the cold.

Wales huffed, rubbing his hands together. "Can you guys help me with the luggage." He asked, looking at the two who are now trying to dodge his gave like a child trying to avoid eye-contact with a teacher. "Please?" He begged. Ireland sighed, he couldn't say no to his brother picking up two each side in his hand and one more each side tucked under his armpits.

Scotland snickered to himself, taking twice as much luggage as Ire. He glared, grumbling, "asshole." Scotland just chuckled. A quiet slamming noise cut the three's slight moment off. It was Northern lands of Ireland who'd finally gotten out of the warm atmosphere of the car. He was puffing warm air into his hands. He looked up at the three before realizing he'd had attention all on him. Blushing, trying to hide in his fur-lined parka. Ireland scoffed, heading for the entrance to the manor. Wales gave North a soft glance of empathy before following Ireland.

Scotland chuckled, moving the baggage to his other side balancing them on his shoulder putting a heavy arm around North as he strolled towards the manor. One they caught up with the other's, Wales knocked on the door . "Come in!" A child-like voice yelled, muffled by the door.

Ireland's just shrugged, opening the door with two fingers. First in was Ireland. "Geronimo!" Aussie yelled as if a battle-cry, landing on top of the shoulders of the Irish land. Whom yelped in surprise, tensing his frame like he'd seen a ghost, before relaxing once he'd realized who it was. Australia let out a short fit of giggles as he leaned forward. Craning his back to where the little squirts face could be in the view of Ireland while he sat on his shoulders.

America was there too, giggling profusely, dressed like a page boy. It made Scotland almost want to laugh himself seeing his brother dress his own son in such clothing. And a piece of string connected to a bucket... Once Ireland was out of the way of doorway Wales came in before the Scottish man could warn him about the work of string the Democracy was holding onto. The child pulled on it. And instead of your cliche bucket of water, they filled this one to the brim with small and large chiefly arthropod creatures.