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Straight from the anon meme, on the French insult of "va te faire enculer chez les Grecs", meaning, "go get fucked up the ass by the Greeks."
For relevant discussion, please see http://aphanon-meme.livejournal.com/1402.html?thread=8827002#t8827002
Arthur simply has to join when it comes to insults and porn.
For relevant discussion, please see http://aphanon-meme.livejournal.com/1402.html?thread=8827002#t8827002
Arthur simply has to join when it comes to insults and porn.
so much lol at that thread.
Seconded!
Seconded!
I'd like to see Latvia so afraid of Russia that he wets himself, or Russia making him do it on purpose.
Diaper usage is optional but would be much appreciated. Russia can make Latvia wear them or how ever anon wants it.
Other Baltics are welcome too, in a way or another!
Diaper usage is optional but would be much appreciated. Russia can make Latvia wear them or how ever anon wants it.
Other Baltics are welcome too, in a way or another!
I feel like a horrible perv for wanting this. Seconded.
Re: Russia and Latvia with desperation wetting/diapers
(Anonymous) - 2013-06-27 14:34 (UTC) - ExpandThis anon has been learning about WW2 lately and was completely enthralled of the idea of France and England's relationship during/after the evacuation of the Battle of Dunkirk.
Fluff, crack, kink, it doesn't really matter. This anon just wants to know what you interpret England and France's relationship was like at the time. :D
Fluff, crack, kink, it doesn't really matter. This anon just wants to know what you interpret England and France's relationship was like at the time. :D
OH YES. *SECONDS LIKE MAD*
Anon's idea is this: an AU with Sweden and Finland based off the song "Whatever You Want" by Vienna Teng (http://www.imeem.com/yoomi/music/UNZDKLJB/vienna-teng-whatever-you-want), with Sweden as the 'company man' and Finland his frustrated young wife. Distance grows between them until finally Finland is ready to ask for a divorce -
-and this is where the request deviates from the song. Anon would like a happy ending, where Sweden talks Finland out of leaving, Finland realizes Sweden didn't mean to be so distant, they make up, and all is well.
<3
lol, reCAPTCHA reads "duties house" O_o
-and this is where the request deviates from the song. Anon would like a happy ending, where Sweden talks Finland out of leaving, Finland realizes Sweden didn't mean to be so distant, they make up, and all is well.
<3
lol, reCAPTCHA reads "duties house" O_o
Turkey/Greece buttsex, as pornographic as possible would be nice. Turkey is taking it, which should count as the kink for this pairing. Bonus points if he's trying really hard to act like he's not really all that into it while being pounded, but it's also good if he's a loud and demanding bottom.
I'll give it a go! Sorry about the lack of title, I'm kind of useless with them.
For once, Greece could not see it coming. He had been having a nice, civilised meeting with Turkey for a change, discussing their greatly improved relations and how to keep them on the right track. However, things had taken an unexpected turn when Turkey brought up that earthquake again. The swiftness and sincerity with which his former enemy had come to his aid clearly hadn't left his mind in all this time, but Greece hadn't been aware of the strength of the feelings left simmering by that tragic event.
”Well, you came to help me after it was my turn to be hit,” he had said. ”And it's been a few years already. You've done more than enough to pay me back.” Turkey would have none of it. He was a passionate man in just about everything, that Greece knew well, but being on the receiving end of his gratitude was new to him.
”Just accept my thanks and take it, ya damn brat... I mean, uh, esteemed neighbour,” said Turkey. And so Greece accepted his thanks, as well as that which Turkey had not been prepared to give earlier, and so it was that he found himself on top of Turkey on the creaky leather couch of the office, taking his ass.
”How's that then, eh?” Turkey asked, his voice oddly strained, possibly because of the careful smirk stretching the corners of his mouth. ”Figured you don't get to try it this way around too much, so... so go ahead and have fu... fuck...”
”Am I hurting you?” Greece let his pace drop to ludicrously slow from the previous just-about-bearable.
”Hell no, do you think I'm made of glass? Feel free to, uh... well, don't you want to give back some of what you used to get?”
Greece shrugged. That simple action prevented him from properly leaning on his hands, somehow ending all the other action. ”You look a little upset.”
After a very long silence, Turkey moistened his lips in an attempt to stall the inevitable; he was not quite sure his voice would work properly when he attempted to speak. ”I'm not fucking upset. And if I am, it's because you're refusing what I'm offering,” he finally said. He managed a friendly pat on the younger man's lower back. ”Come on now, brat, you can do it. In and out, nice and smooth, that's a good start...”
”Mm.” Resuming his previous slow pace, Greece continued to take his sweet damn time fucking the man currently giving him looks of rage and despair. Turkey was ever so soft and pleasant inside that he didn't want to rush this. Oh, what a wonderful ride, how nice and smooth indeed, how amazing it was of Turkey to allow him this...
”I know - how about I flip over and you do me from behind? Yeah, that should be good.” Turkey waited for Greece to pull out and give him some more space before turning his back to the younger man.
Greece stared at it for a while. A small smile graced his dreamy expression. So that's how it was... he had been on the bottom plenty enough, he knew these things. Even if he liked doing things slowly, it didn't mean he was slow. With an understanding grin, he mounted Turkey and pushed back into the gripping, demanding heat.
For once, Greece could not see it coming. He had been having a nice, civilised meeting with Turkey for a change, discussing their greatly improved relations and how to keep them on the right track. However, things had taken an unexpected turn when Turkey brought up that earthquake again. The swiftness and sincerity with which his former enemy had come to his aid clearly hadn't left his mind in all this time, but Greece hadn't been aware of the strength of the feelings left simmering by that tragic event.
”Well, you came to help me after it was my turn to be hit,” he had said. ”And it's been a few years already. You've done more than enough to pay me back.” Turkey would have none of it. He was a passionate man in just about everything, that Greece knew well, but being on the receiving end of his gratitude was new to him.
”Just accept my thanks and take it, ya damn brat... I mean, uh, esteemed neighbour,” said Turkey. And so Greece accepted his thanks, as well as that which Turkey had not been prepared to give earlier, and so it was that he found himself on top of Turkey on the creaky leather couch of the office, taking his ass.
”How's that then, eh?” Turkey asked, his voice oddly strained, possibly because of the careful smirk stretching the corners of his mouth. ”Figured you don't get to try it this way around too much, so... so go ahead and have fu... fuck...”
”Am I hurting you?” Greece let his pace drop to ludicrously slow from the previous just-about-bearable.
”Hell no, do you think I'm made of glass? Feel free to, uh... well, don't you want to give back some of what you used to get?”
Greece shrugged. That simple action prevented him from properly leaning on his hands, somehow ending all the other action. ”You look a little upset.”
After a very long silence, Turkey moistened his lips in an attempt to stall the inevitable; he was not quite sure his voice would work properly when he attempted to speak. ”I'm not fucking upset. And if I am, it's because you're refusing what I'm offering,” he finally said. He managed a friendly pat on the younger man's lower back. ”Come on now, brat, you can do it. In and out, nice and smooth, that's a good start...”
”Mm.” Resuming his previous slow pace, Greece continued to take his sweet damn time fucking the man currently giving him looks of rage and despair. Turkey was ever so soft and pleasant inside that he didn't want to rush this. Oh, what a wonderful ride, how nice and smooth indeed, how amazing it was of Turkey to allow him this...
”I know - how about I flip over and you do me from behind? Yeah, that should be good.” Turkey waited for Greece to pull out and give him some more space before turning his back to the younger man.
Greece stared at it for a while. A small smile graced his dreamy expression. So that's how it was... he had been on the bottom plenty enough, he knew these things. Even if he liked doing things slowly, it didn't mean he was slow. With an understanding grin, he mounted Turkey and pushed back into the gripping, demanding heat.
Germany/Italy; Ludwig just has to say this line: Auf die knie, und heul'/winsel' um Vergebung (On your knees, and suck for forgiveness.)
But that sentence says "On your knees, and cry/beg for forgiveness"...
(Anonymous) 2009-04-06 08:41 pm (UTC)(link)This anon suggests "Auf die Knie, blas' mir einen" (On your knees, suck my cock) instead. If you want the "for forgiveness" part, you'd need a different grammar structure in this case. Er. Then again, who cares, this is a kink meme. As you were, anon.
America loves exotic stuff and Turkey wants to show something exotic to America.
Seduction and Smut please.
Seduction and Smut please.
ANOTHER HIGH SCHOOL AU REQUEST, woops.
Russia/America, America/Russia, whatever - bitchy rivals hiding their not-so-rivalish relations to the school. At one point someone catches them fucking in the locker room.
Russia/America, America/Russia, whatever - bitchy rivals hiding their not-so-rivalish relations to the school. At one point someone catches them fucking in the locker room.
In that order. US top. Yes. <3 Bondage sex. England promises himself he'll never visit America. Ever. Again.
http://hetalia-kink.livejournal.com/9482.html?thread=12303626#t12303626
US/UK/US (top doesn't matter)
Iraq War, desert fatigues, and tent sex.
Bonus if you somehow include the Camel Spider.
http://www.snopes.com/photos/bugs/camelspider.asp
Iraq War, desert fatigues, and tent sex.
Bonus if you somehow include the Camel Spider.
http://www.snopes.com/photos/bugs/camelspider.asp
Second this request~!
Man, if ANYTHING made me second guess joining the army, it was seeing pics of that. Oh hell no...
Man, if ANYTHING made me second guess joining the army, it was seeing pics of that. Oh hell no...
Ok! So anon wants strict!Captain!Prussia barking at/training Germany, Hungary and Austria (and Poland, but I'm not too sure about him), whilst being considerably softer on Hungary. Smut or pairings aren't required, but anon would love hints of Prussia/Hungary and jealousy on behalf of the others due to the preference.
B: The inclusion of Japan in the group, even if the Prussian influence on his military organization came much later. (let's just ignore that little part, ja?) and Prussia keeping journals about their progress.
B: The inclusion of Japan in the group, even if the Prussian influence on his military organization came much later. (let's just ignore that little part, ja?) and Prussia keeping journals about their progress.
The Prussian army was considered one of the best of its time, and at a given moment recruited men from other countries into its lines, specially Hussars/cavalry men. Frederick had considerable respect for (and was wary of the) Hungarian Hussars and urged the Prussian troops not to mess with them much.
Alas, if this goes against the rules, feel free to delete mods.
Why did "I'll make a man out of you" pop into my head as I wrote the request? ._.
Alas, if this goes against the rules, feel free to delete mods.
Why did "I'll make a man out of you" pop into my head as I wrote the request? ._.
My request: Prussia/Germany NOT one-sided. But. In his current condition, Gilbert can only exist because Ludwig exists, and not the other way around y/y?
Now say we carry that over to the emotional level.
Ludwig uses his power, physical size,and Gilbert's helpless infatuation to do WHATEVER THE HELL HE WANTS.
And I'm not talkin' about chores.
Nothing too gruesome, but PLEASE! I would be ever so grateful, anon!
Bonus for Ludwig having a sadistic side he's afraid to show anyone but his brother...
Now say we carry that over to the emotional level.
Ludwig uses his power, physical size,
And I'm not talkin' about chores.
Nothing too gruesome, but PLEASE! I would be ever so grateful, anon!
Bonus for Ludwig having a sadistic side he's afraid to show anyone but his brother...
OP!Anon, I hope you don't mind, but I made Prussia a bit scared and...well, rather insane almost. Here's part 1 and 2 as a teaser while I go back and work on other fills!
All he ever wanted was to be able to watch over his little brother, and make sure he was safe. And then...that fateful day came where...He couldn't exactly do that anymore. When Prussia had lost all that he was. Everything. And was therefore, reduced to nothing but an empty body without land to his name. It was such a sad feeling. So alone. And here he had thought he had always enjoyed being alone, away from others in order to wallow in his own self-pity of being by himself all the time. Perhaps that loneliness was what saved him. Or perhaps, it was a brother who was in all honesty...grateful for his elder brother's guidance and protection. Oh how Ludwig's kind words and kind form were a welcome guest.
"D-Danke Ludwig...gott, Ludwig...danke..." Gilbert uttered helplessly as he crawled on his knees before his younger brother, reaching up and gripping the olive fabric of the German's pants. He stared up at him, paler than he had ever been before. His once bloody, crimson eyes no longer held their bloodlust, and had reduced to looking like eyes glazed over with cataracts, appearing to be blind, but capable of seeing things in ways he had never seen things before. His expression is shocked, weak...but somehow, his lips are showing the gleam of pearly teeth as muscles tug in a way to make him smile. What caused the smile might not be known. Maybe it was Gilbert's absolute satisfaction of being free from his emptiness, or maybe it was the joy of being reunited with the little brother he had raised...Or maybe, it was his hopeless infatuation with his brother that made him smile.
All three seemed to be likely as the former Prussian looked at his brother, as if begging to hear him speak. The whole while, he uttered praise and thanks.
Ludwig shook his leg, removing his older brother from him, causing Gilbert to fall back a bit, sitting firmly on his ass. "Don't thank me as if we're close, Gilbert." Ludwig says harshly, glaring at him, his clear, azure eyes lit with a blue flame that produced a heat in which the Prussian had never experienced before.” You live with me now, and while you live under my roof, you follow my rules, is that clear?"
"Absolutely, bruder." Gilbert uttered, his lips still being tugged into a smile. "Whatever you say, I'll be the best house guest you've ever had!"
Gilbert was nothing like his former self. No longer did he parade around chanting about how absolutely awesome he was, and how he could do anything. No more schemes, or trickery or cockiness. He was only a fraction of the man he once was. Once a powerful, dominating empire who could get almost anything he wanted...to this. On his knees in a tattered old military uniform, clinging to his brother's legs, just hoping he wouldn't be abandoned and left to die. In a sense...this is what happens to a nation when they die. If they don't have another nation to be a part of and continue living with, they slowly go mad, losing bits of themselves every day until they hit the breaking point...And if they don't accept their fate and allow themselves to die peacefully...they go insane.
Death or insanity didn't sound appealing to Gilbert. Normally, while sane in every aspect, he'd welcome death, claiming that he would go down fighting. But with so much of his pride torn and strewn to the wind, he'd rather beg and plead for life.
All he ever wanted was to be able to watch over his little brother, and make sure he was safe. And then...that fateful day came where...He couldn't exactly do that anymore. When Prussia had lost all that he was. Everything. And was therefore, reduced to nothing but an empty body without land to his name. It was such a sad feeling. So alone. And here he had thought he had always enjoyed being alone, away from others in order to wallow in his own self-pity of being by himself all the time. Perhaps that loneliness was what saved him. Or perhaps, it was a brother who was in all honesty...grateful for his elder brother's guidance and protection. Oh how Ludwig's kind words and kind form were a welcome guest.
"D-Danke Ludwig...gott, Ludwig...danke..." Gilbert uttered helplessly as he crawled on his knees before his younger brother, reaching up and gripping the olive fabric of the German's pants. He stared up at him, paler than he had ever been before. His once bloody, crimson eyes no longer held their bloodlust, and had reduced to looking like eyes glazed over with cataracts, appearing to be blind, but capable of seeing things in ways he had never seen things before. His expression is shocked, weak...but somehow, his lips are showing the gleam of pearly teeth as muscles tug in a way to make him smile. What caused the smile might not be known. Maybe it was Gilbert's absolute satisfaction of being free from his emptiness, or maybe it was the joy of being reunited with the little brother he had raised...Or maybe, it was his hopeless infatuation with his brother that made him smile.
All three seemed to be likely as the former Prussian looked at his brother, as if begging to hear him speak. The whole while, he uttered praise and thanks.
Ludwig shook his leg, removing his older brother from him, causing Gilbert to fall back a bit, sitting firmly on his ass. "Don't thank me as if we're close, Gilbert." Ludwig says harshly, glaring at him, his clear, azure eyes lit with a blue flame that produced a heat in which the Prussian had never experienced before.” You live with me now, and while you live under my roof, you follow my rules, is that clear?"
"Absolutely, bruder." Gilbert uttered, his lips still being tugged into a smile. "Whatever you say, I'll be the best house guest you've ever had!"
Gilbert was nothing like his former self. No longer did he parade around chanting about how absolutely awesome he was, and how he could do anything. No more schemes, or trickery or cockiness. He was only a fraction of the man he once was. Once a powerful, dominating empire who could get almost anything he wanted...to this. On his knees in a tattered old military uniform, clinging to his brother's legs, just hoping he wouldn't be abandoned and left to die. In a sense...this is what happens to a nation when they die. If they don't have another nation to be a part of and continue living with, they slowly go mad, losing bits of themselves every day until they hit the breaking point...And if they don't accept their fate and allow themselves to die peacefully...they go insane.
Death or insanity didn't sound appealing to Gilbert. Normally, while sane in every aspect, he'd welcome death, claiming that he would go down fighting. But with so much of his pride torn and strewn to the wind, he'd rather beg and plead for life.
I'd like to see Poland rejecting Lithuania (because we had Lithuania who chose Russia and now I want the other way around).
Reason is up to Anon, everything's fine with me as long as Poland really doesn't return Liet's feelings. Desperate Liet is a must.
Reason is up to Anon, everything's fine with me as long as Poland really doesn't return Liet's feelings. Desperate Liet is a must.
Scandinavian orgy/reunion party, with a lot of UST and booze, please. 8D
Seconded!
(Quick clarification -- you mean only Denmark, Norway, and Sweden, right? To include Iceland and Finland you'd use the word Nordic. Just checking :) )
(Quick clarification -- you mean only Denmark, Norway, and Sweden, right? To include Iceland and Finland you'd use the word Nordic. Just checking :) )
Done for your
Germany/Sweden (http://pics.livejournal.com/lupis_ashes/pic/000c8d0k)
Hope you like, OP! I have a few other little sketches I'll share (if I ever get around to cleaning them up properly).
GUH.
Not OP, but this is so relevant to my interests.
Hot work, anon!
Not OP, but this is so relevant to my interests.
Hot work, anon!
Ludwig was there to hold the hair out of his face as he wretched into the toilet bowl. For a brief moment, he considering just turning around and throwing up on those perfectly shined leather boots, but there wasn't much in his stomach to throw up in the first place, and doubtlessly, Germany would have made him clean up after that. So he merely gripped the toilet a little tighter until the waves of nausea had passed and all that remained was the taste of acid and bile in his mouth.
"Rinse," ordered Ludwig, passing him a glass of water, which he was only too glad to accept. A quick tug on his elbow sent him stumbling to his feet, a new wave of disgust sweeping through him at his own compliance.
Ludwig felt as solid as any wall against his back, and he couldn't help but lean against the German. His legs were trembling, partly from the exhausting purging he'd just experienced, partly from having to entertain Ludwig the night before, and partly because, these days, he was never really full, though thankfully, he wasn't starving either. Ludwig held him, one arm wrapped around his chest to keep him steady while a gloved hand stroked his swelling abdomen.
"You really are pregnant."
"Why would I lie to you?" he demanded irritably. "Haven't I been acceding to your demands? Haven't I proven yet that I'm on your side?"
The hand paused in its stroking. "Please don't assume that I don't know that you are helping the Resistence," said the man calmly, hand sliding up from abdomen to throat and pressing down so that Francis was almost choking. Almost. Then the pressure was gone and the stroking resumed. A warning, a reminder that Germany was that much stronger, and that he only held on to his freedom at Germany's leisure. "I trust that, from now on, you'll step up efforts to remove the undesirable elements from your part of the nation?"
When he didn't reply, Germany turned him around gently and tilted his head up so that they could see eye to eye. He didn't want to look, didn't want to see the cold steel that so often glazed Ludwig's eyes nowadays. Before, at least, when their eyes met, he would see some spark of remembered resentment, some spark of acknowledgement that he was a former enemy. Now, even when they were fucking, Ludwig would be preoccupied with other things, as if it didn't matter anymore that he had France under him.
"France, look at me."
Blue eyes met blue and Francis was startled to see something like happiness glittering in Ludwig's eyes. He'd never seen anything like that directed at him, not by Germany.
"I want my child to grow up in a cleaner world," stated Ludwig matter-of-factly, reaching down to caress the bulge again. "I'm sure you do too. I won't blame you for the FFL, but you must make sure to do your part as well, yes?"
His child?
Germany was still stroking his abdomen tenderly, looking down with a small, satisfied smile on his face. "He will be inheriting an empire to last a thousand years, after all."
Francis felt his blood run cold, and his feelings must have show on his face, because Germany was grabbing onto his arms, staring into his eyes with that heartless, piercing gaze.
"Do you understand, Francis?" asked Ludwig quietly.
He understood alright. He understood that Germany had nothing but disdain for him. He understood that his compliance had never mattered. He understood that all Germany was after was this unborn child, someone fresh, new, and, above all else, pure. "Yes," he whispered.
And began to plan for an abortion.
"Rinse," ordered Ludwig, passing him a glass of water, which he was only too glad to accept. A quick tug on his elbow sent him stumbling to his feet, a new wave of disgust sweeping through him at his own compliance.
Ludwig felt as solid as any wall against his back, and he couldn't help but lean against the German. His legs were trembling, partly from the exhausting purging he'd just experienced, partly from having to entertain Ludwig the night before, and partly because, these days, he was never really full, though thankfully, he wasn't starving either. Ludwig held him, one arm wrapped around his chest to keep him steady while a gloved hand stroked his swelling abdomen.
"You really are pregnant."
"Why would I lie to you?" he demanded irritably. "Haven't I been acceding to your demands? Haven't I proven yet that I'm on your side?"
The hand paused in its stroking. "Please don't assume that I don't know that you are helping the Resistence," said the man calmly, hand sliding up from abdomen to throat and pressing down so that Francis was almost choking. Almost. Then the pressure was gone and the stroking resumed. A warning, a reminder that Germany was that much stronger, and that he only held on to his freedom at Germany's leisure. "I trust that, from now on, you'll step up efforts to remove the undesirable elements from your part of the nation?"
When he didn't reply, Germany turned him around gently and tilted his head up so that they could see eye to eye. He didn't want to look, didn't want to see the cold steel that so often glazed Ludwig's eyes nowadays. Before, at least, when their eyes met, he would see some spark of remembered resentment, some spark of acknowledgement that he was a former enemy. Now, even when they were fucking, Ludwig would be preoccupied with other things, as if it didn't matter anymore that he had France under him.
"France, look at me."
Blue eyes met blue and Francis was startled to see something like happiness glittering in Ludwig's eyes. He'd never seen anything like that directed at him, not by Germany.
"I want my child to grow up in a cleaner world," stated Ludwig matter-of-factly, reaching down to caress the bulge again. "I'm sure you do too. I won't blame you for the FFL, but you must make sure to do your part as well, yes?"
His child?
Germany was still stroking his abdomen tenderly, looking down with a small, satisfied smile on his face. "He will be inheriting an empire to last a thousand years, after all."
Francis felt his blood run cold, and his feelings must have show on his face, because Germany was grabbing onto his arms, staring into his eyes with that heartless, piercing gaze.
"Do you understand, Francis?" asked Ludwig quietly.
He understood alright. He understood that Germany had nothing but disdain for him. He understood that his compliance had never mattered. He understood that all Germany was after was this unborn child, someone fresh, new, and, above all else, pure. "Yes," he whispered.
And began to plan for an abortion.
Just filled one, so I'll make a request now.
England and Excalibur from Soul Eater arguing about what century his legend began in.
England and Excalibur from Soul Eater arguing about what century his legend began in.
Anon, I'd like an exploration of what would happen in Canada's mind (and his behaviour, and his interaction with the other nations) if Quebec really managed to separate.
Canada wasn't sure what to make of the shadows that followed him.
He wasn't scared of ghosts like America, but nor did he revel in their company.
This, however, he soon learnt, this was not a ghost.
He could remember the first time he fully comprehended its existence. As he was making a cup of coffee, something out of the corner of his eye moved. Something large and black. Dismissing it, he had continued to pour the coffee until a large hand laid on his shoulder.
With a shout and a clatter, the shadow was gone, and his coffee was everywhere. And it only got worse.
It started showing up during meetings, hovering over his shoulder.
"England!" Matthew called, running after the man, "England, I think there's... a ghost following me," he confided quietly, pulling on his sleeve.
England had looked around and shook his head, "There's nothing there, Matthew, really."
And so he tried to ignore it. But the more he did, the more real this thing became, until it had a voice.
Everything was dark and quiet, and Kumajirou was snoozing at the foot of his bed when suddenly...
"Je suis ici."
Matthew had nearly screamed.
"What do you want!" he yelped, hiding underneath the covers, but the room had fallen silent.
"MOI" came the hiss in his ear a moment later, and Matthew's heart tried to escape through his mouth, but that was impossible, because his mouth was too full of his screams.
So now he sat at the foot of his bed, all lights on, six in the morning, wishing on the day so he could get dressed and leave this wretched house, the one that was filled with dark French utterences, that only intensified when he reached for the phone, coming closer and closer as his hands reached the receiver. God it was like the worst nightmare he'd ever had.
"C'EST VRAI."
Matthew screamed again, curse words circling in a mind that was otherwise devoid of rational thought.
The next day he looked shattered as he slumped into a seat next to America.
"Hey, Canada," Alfred asked, waving a hand in front of his face, "You ok?"
"Idiot!" France slapped Alfred's head with a newspaper, "Have you not heard?"
Matthew looked up, blinking tiredly, trying not to think unless...
"QU'EST-CE QUE C'EST? ILS ONT DIT..."
"Shut up!" Matthew screeched, sitting bolt upright and clutching his head in his hands.
Everyone at the meeting turned to look at him, a feeling that his stomach now hated. Along with his breakfast, he noted, before running off to throw up.
"Matthew?" Arthur called, pushing open the bathroom door.
Canada looked weak, skin pale under the bright light of the washroom, shuddering slightly and with dark circles under his eyes.
"Matthew, what's going on?" Arthur asked, kneeling beside him.
"There's something following me, Arthur," he whispered, looking around, "But.. but I don't know..."
"JE SAIS. TU NE SAIS PAS. MAIS JE SAIS."
He yelped and grabbed Arthur's arm, "Can't you hear it? Oh god, oh god," he repeated, shivering.
"Alfred!" Arthur yelled, and lo the hero appeared in the doorway, "Come on, pick him up, we're taking him home."
America nodded and scooped up his brother with little trouble.
"Arthur, no, put me down!" Matthew complained, shakily, "N-no! I can't go back there, it's there! It's everywhere!"
Once Matthew was settled, Alfred was able to voice his concerns.
"What's up with him then?" he asked, looking round the doorframe at Matthew's shaking form.
"I've only ever seen one other person deal with a revolution this badly, and that was Francis," Arthur said, cooly.
"What? Revolution? But I thought those were for like... I don't know, big countries," America asked and England rolled his eyes.
Matthew heard a snippet of their conversation, but tried not to think.
"Blue skies, blue skies," he repeated, fluffy clouds circling his vision, but they suddenly turned black, a murderous intent evident within their soft folds, and as if on cue, the voice, now much louder, boomed, "LE CIEL EST NOIR, MAINTENANT, CHER."
***
He wasn't scared of ghosts like America, but nor did he revel in their company.
This, however, he soon learnt, this was not a ghost.
He could remember the first time he fully comprehended its existence. As he was making a cup of coffee, something out of the corner of his eye moved. Something large and black. Dismissing it, he had continued to pour the coffee until a large hand laid on his shoulder.
With a shout and a clatter, the shadow was gone, and his coffee was everywhere. And it only got worse.
It started showing up during meetings, hovering over his shoulder.
"England!" Matthew called, running after the man, "England, I think there's... a ghost following me," he confided quietly, pulling on his sleeve.
England had looked around and shook his head, "There's nothing there, Matthew, really."
And so he tried to ignore it. But the more he did, the more real this thing became, until it had a voice.
Everything was dark and quiet, and Kumajirou was snoozing at the foot of his bed when suddenly...
"Je suis ici."
Matthew had nearly screamed.
"What do you want!" he yelped, hiding underneath the covers, but the room had fallen silent.
"MOI" came the hiss in his ear a moment later, and Matthew's heart tried to escape through his mouth, but that was impossible, because his mouth was too full of his screams.
So now he sat at the foot of his bed, all lights on, six in the morning, wishing on the day so he could get dressed and leave this wretched house, the one that was filled with dark French utterences, that only intensified when he reached for the phone, coming closer and closer as his hands reached the receiver. God it was like the worst nightmare he'd ever had.
"C'EST VRAI."
Matthew screamed again, curse words circling in a mind that was otherwise devoid of rational thought.
The next day he looked shattered as he slumped into a seat next to America.
"Hey, Canada," Alfred asked, waving a hand in front of his face, "You ok?"
"Idiot!" France slapped Alfred's head with a newspaper, "Have you not heard?"
Matthew looked up, blinking tiredly, trying not to think unless...
"QU'EST-CE QUE C'EST? ILS ONT DIT..."
"Shut up!" Matthew screeched, sitting bolt upright and clutching his head in his hands.
Everyone at the meeting turned to look at him, a feeling that his stomach now hated. Along with his breakfast, he noted, before running off to throw up.
"Matthew?" Arthur called, pushing open the bathroom door.
Canada looked weak, skin pale under the bright light of the washroom, shuddering slightly and with dark circles under his eyes.
"Matthew, what's going on?" Arthur asked, kneeling beside him.
"There's something following me, Arthur," he whispered, looking around, "But.. but I don't know..."
"JE SAIS. TU NE SAIS PAS. MAIS JE SAIS."
He yelped and grabbed Arthur's arm, "Can't you hear it? Oh god, oh god," he repeated, shivering.
"Alfred!" Arthur yelled, and lo the hero appeared in the doorway, "Come on, pick him up, we're taking him home."
America nodded and scooped up his brother with little trouble.
"Arthur, no, put me down!" Matthew complained, shakily, "N-no! I can't go back there, it's there! It's everywhere!"
Once Matthew was settled, Alfred was able to voice his concerns.
"What's up with him then?" he asked, looking round the doorframe at Matthew's shaking form.
"I've only ever seen one other person deal with a revolution this badly, and that was Francis," Arthur said, cooly.
"What? Revolution? But I thought those were for like... I don't know, big countries," America asked and England rolled his eyes.
Matthew heard a snippet of their conversation, but tried not to think.
"Blue skies, blue skies," he repeated, fluffy clouds circling his vision, but they suddenly turned black, a murderous intent evident within their soft folds, and as if on cue, the voice, now much louder, boomed, "LE CIEL EST NOIR, MAINTENANT, CHER."
***
US/UK yandere!UK please like the one from this video
-> link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mvQQxU7TV-U
Up to ANON to whatever else they want but can US be tied up to?
-> link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mvQQxU7TV-U
Up to ANON to whatever else they want but can US be tied up to?
Anon has just filled a request, and this is something she's wanted to see for ages: GDR!Prussia/Hungary hurt/comfort after the 1956 revolution and the Soviet intervention to stop it (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/1956_Hungarian_Revolution#Soviet_intervention_of_4_November)
It doesn't make a whole lot of sense historically, since the GDR didn't do squat, but it would make anon very, very happy. Bonus points for awkward Gilbert not knowing how to go about it.
It doesn't make a whole lot of sense historically, since the GDR didn't do squat, but it would make anon very, very happy. Bonus points for awkward Gilbert not knowing how to go about it.
Hungary/UK anything as long as Hungary is acting all seme-ish even if she's the girl.
re-captcha: the argue (lol)
re-captcha: the argue (lol)
I'm gonna fill a bunch this week, so I feel justified in asking ...
(Anonymous) 2009-04-06 07:21 pm (UTC)(link)... for America/Russia involving a Cold War chess match between players from both Nations in which the Russian player wins. To help you out, I've provided a list of champions from the USSR and the sole American who won the World Chess Championships between 1957 and the USSR's collapse at the end of this post. If you want to use Tal or Petrosian, it's fine to have Latvia or Armenia-Tan guest star.
Kinks: hatesex is a must, using chess pieces as sex toys is fine, as is arguing -- maybe to the point that American and Russian handlers have to step in and separate the two from coming to blows. Feel free also to use the musical Chess as your inspiration, if you're familiar with it!
Vasily Smyslov 1957–1958 Soviet Union (Russia)
Mikhail Tal 1960–1961 Soviet Union (Latvia)
Tigran Petrosian 1963–1969 Soviet Union (Armenia)
Boris Spassky 1969–1972 Soviet Union (Russia)
Robert J. "Bobby" Fischer 1972–1975 United States
Anatoly Karpov 1975–1985 Soviet Union (Russia)
Garry Kasparov 1985–1993 Soviet Union (Russia)
Kinks: hatesex is a must, using chess pieces as sex toys is fine, as is arguing -- maybe to the point that American and Russian handlers have to step in and separate the two from coming to blows. Feel free also to use the musical Chess as your inspiration, if you're familiar with it!
Vasily Smyslov 1957–1958 Soviet Union (Russia)
Mikhail Tal 1960–1961 Soviet Union (Latvia)
Tigran Petrosian 1963–1969 Soviet Union (Armenia)
Boris Spassky 1969–1972 Soviet Union (Russia)
Robert J. "Bobby" Fischer 1972–1975 United States
Anatoly Karpov 1975–1985 Soviet Union (Russia)
Garry Kasparov 1985–1993 Soviet Union (Russia)
If you would rather have Fischer win, that's great, too. :)
LOL reCaptcha: fishlike 202
LOL reCaptcha: fishlike 202
Toris is nice and patient...even for Ivan; but he's very protective for his friends too.
What would he do if Ivan told him that he did something really bad to Feliks?
I'd like to read something with furious!Lithuania who at least once kicks Russia's ass....please?
What would he do if Ivan told him that he did something really bad to Feliks?
I'd like to read something with furious!Lithuania who at least once kicks Russia's ass....please?
I wanna do this one, but a few questions first.
1) Are you OK if Poland and Liet are best friends, but not romantic partners?
2) Are you OK if Russia and Liet are a couple in this?
1) Are you OK if Poland and Liet are best friends, but not romantic partners?
2) Are you OK if Russia and Liet are a couple in this?
America gets jealous of England's fairy friends (whether he believes they're real or not), because he seems more happy when he's with them than with America. I'd like America to be his oblivious self, other than that happy!England reminds him of his childhood, which bothers him.
I used to make him smile like that
Seconding this so HARD.
We need more jealous!America. And why wouldn't he be? England was frckn ADORABLE in that episode.
Seconding this so HARD.
We need more jealous!America. And why wouldn't he be? England was frckn ADORABLE in that episode.
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