hetalia_kink | Hetalia Kink meme part 14 -- CLOSED

Hetalia Kink meme part 14 -- CLOSED

axis powers
hetalia kink meme
part 14

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NEW REQUESTS GO IN THE MOST RECENT PART!

New fills for this part go HERE.
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This is soo unfair how is this a good learning leasson ??! ;A; Someone needs to tell the angels controlling this reincarnation thing off X( lol Irony Dont Panic is on right now...sighs

~~Fifty bucks~~ ~~Hundred bucks~~ My entire life savings says this "plan" is going to blow up in all the angels' faces.
And when I say "blow up", I mean energy-of-1000-suns blow up.
It's like watching a train wreck. Clearly, the mastermind of this punishment wasn't engaging his logic-center.

Goodness, now you're making me wear out my F5 key. Can't wait to see how bad this train wreck is gonna end up being. :3

Random question: Did the angels assign Arthur his own guardian angel? 'Cause if they did, Mr guardian-angel is either an asshole or needs to be fired. Immediately.

Or you can do what Canadians do and simply "talk around". We're really quite good at it, if something is brought we disagree with, we will either a)keep our opinions to ourselves or b)subtly change the topic of conversation... c)sugarcoat our disagreement so as not to make the other person feel bad.

I love both Frussia as well as uke!Russia, so this fill totally made my day :D It's so cute~ And you had it characterized perfectly, even though this is a tough pairing to write (IMO anyways :P) Thanks so much for this!

I think that the beginning was Arthur dreaming of what happened to Alfred after the almost-murder and him returning to Heaven. The description makes me think Alfred must have been in Hell, or something close to it, and that he's scared because he's lost and unsure of were he is or what to do. Hope that helped. :)

That was lovely, but the Spanish really needs some work. Your tenses and verb subjects were all over the place. :I I've been taking Spanish for 5 years now, so I'm not a native speaker (good lord, far from it) but I could pick up most of it without the aid of a dictionary.

I love the beginning!
sThis makes me shiver. So good! Looking forward to the next part!

OP is excited~! \o/ Oh Prussia. |D

Also liking your set-up, it's different from the "rawr badass!shock trooper!Canada" I see on the meme a lot.

"Canada had never lost a war-- but he had never really won one either."
.. Yeah. In so many ways, especially if one doesn't count any of the wars before 1812. And the last line killed me. D:

Looking forward to the next part~!

So short and so hilarious! XD Poor Canada, and I love that Hungary is leering behind the artificial plant. You win all the cookies on the internet. XDDDD

It wasn’t easy raising the child.

The signs were all there. The small bodies of rodents and birds that were mutated beyond degree. The blood splattered onto the floor and the crib.

Arthur reprimand the child. He scolded him whenever he found new ones.

He also loved him.

He held him and constantly told him that he loved him.

Love was a new feeling towards the devil. He never understood it nor had received it.

His memories of his real parents had started to become farther away and remembered less and less with each passing day.

He had a brother he knew. One memory he held onto was him and his brother together. He didn’t know what they were doing, if they were hurting or having fun but he wanted to keep it forever.

He enjoyed his brother.

I said enjoy instead of love because he still doesn’t know what love is yet.

Any memories before being with his new father were filled with pain. He remembered wounds before they healed leaving no trace. He remembered his previous father bringing him to earth and leaving him there. He remembered the flames and hell-hounds that would sometimes daily attack him.

To grow strong his father said.

All it did was hurt.

He remembered running to his old father once because of the hell-hounds. Alfred didn’t know what he had wanted but he was sent away to face the hounds again by himself.

Now when he woke from those memories Arthur was there within moments. He gathered him in his lap and rocked him back and forth.

Only then did Alfred realize the tears running down his face.

One day Alfred asked Arthur something.

“What is love?”

Arthur looked down at his adopted son and smiled. He thought for a moment before saying “Love is something wonderful. It comes between people who care for one another. If one was hurt the other would feel it to and do anything to stop the hurt. It is being with someone despite all their flaws. It is willingly trusting someone to everything that you are and hold dearly.”

“And it is what I feel for you Alfred.” he said, picking Alfred up and hugging him.

A/N: I changed my mind. Emo!America is too much fun for two parts; and little plot bunnies have bred in the right side of my brain.

“Expected? You knew he was going to show up like this?” France asked.

“Well, I didn’t know he was going to wear this today, but he did place a rather large order on skinny jeans, eyeliner, and such. I’ve been sending him Hot Topic stock more than usual lately!” China explained, as he shuffled his papers around.

“Wait a minute!” Switzerland jumped up from his seat to enter the conversation, “Does that mean that the army knife he asked for a couple days ago…has been used for his wrists? Damn you, America! Stop dragging my good name down with your outcast culture! I’m still pissed about that new Twilight team that’s been organized!”

America didn’t even face them as they commented on his look. It didn’t make him mad or embarrassed, because he just didn’t care. The only thing catching his attention was Japan’s flawless ivory skin contrasted with his short, neatly-trimmed jet black hair.

“Lucky bastard…I wish I was colored like you…” He whispered, turning his outlined gaze on the Asian nation sitting next to him.

“Um, were you referring to me, America-san?” Japan shuttered a bit from the young man’s dead stare.

“How do you do that? How do you get such a perfect contrast of white and black?”

“E-Excuse me?”

“Your hair is so black, like the darkest shadows in the deepest layer of Hell, like the empty hole of my heart…but your skin is whiter than any dove or a virgin bride’s dress before she’s murdered by her own true love…it’s beautiful.” America softly spouted wannabe poetry from his glossed lips, raising his head and inching a little closer to Japan.

“U-Uh…I don’t know…I was just born this way.” Japan grew more uncomfortable by the minute. In a moment, America backed off and went back to sulking.

“Hmmph…I should’ve known you were going to say that. It doesn’t matter what we do…all that matters is how we were ‘born’ and that’s people will ever see…born with money…born without money…born with deformities…born without any love in our hearts…”

“Okay, now you’re not even making any sense anymore! I know this recession has got you bummed, but that’s no reason to just show up here and waste our time with worthless distractions!” England continued to scold him, his arms folded fatherly-style.

“We’re all just worthless distractions in the end…”

“ENOUGH! If you aren’t going to say or do anything productive, you can just go and sit in the corner! I bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

America just sighed again and took up the British man’s offer. He pushed himself up and out of the chair and sluggishly made his way to the nearest corner, with his hands tucked into his pockets. As he lowered himself to the floor, he tucked his knees into his chest and pulled his IPod from his pants pocket. Getting yelled at by England (and Switzerland) really put him in a Linkin Park kind of mood.

The rest of the meeting went along unusually calmly, with the basic update on everyone’s situations (minus America’s, because his was a given) as well as a few proposals that were up for consideration and debate. Still, every now and then, someone would turn to keep check on the little emo kid in the corner.

“Poor America, I just feel so sorry for him!” Italy cooed, placing his hands over his caring heart.

“Oh please, he’s just doing it to make a scene. Taking pity on him won’t solve anything.” Germany sneered.

“But Germany, look at him! He just looks so sad and lonely that I want to hug him, take him home and feed him pasta!”

“That’s what you say about everyone, whether or not they’re even depressed!”

Meanwhile, over in the emo corner, America turned up his music so loudly that the earbuds were practically vibrating. His favorite band really knew how to press his sensitive blood-red buttons; their lyrics about murder and love really brought tears to his eyes. Not long into the chorus, he was audibly sniffling and heavily wheezing.

“All right now, now that we’ve- Oh, for heaven’s sake! Is he crying over there?!”

“Da, I can see the mascara running down his cheeks.”

“Well make him stop! It’s distracting!”

LOL. I'm so happy you're going to make more than just two parts, authoranon! This fill is hilarious. Though I'm scared just what Russia might do to make America stop crying....

HAHA I think that the nations are COMPLETELY disconnected to ANY of their people who have a career in psychology or therapy...thats actually my headcanon now X'DD Don't cry emo child~

Oh and lol did he turn into Tamaki and will start growing mushrooms in his little corner now?? Because mushrooms never betray yooooooooooooou ;^;

dX

Soft fingers were caressing his hair. The long digits were slowly rubbing his scalp and moving to the sandy locks. He could feel the hand moving from the top of his head to the hair on the back of his neck and then the hand was gently pulling on the hair, trying to get his attention. The teen groaned and slowly opened his eyes, the sleepiness still clinging against his eyelids.

There was no one there.

Arthur frowned and lazily sat up on his bed. He rubbed his sleepy eyes and glanced around the room but again there was no one there. The green eyed boy tilted his head and his frown grew a bit deeper when he noticed that the door of his bedroom was open. With a sigh the boy stood up and walked over to close the door, his feet dragging against the hard wood floor. He slammed the door shut and flipped the lock before walking back to his bed to crawl under his bed sheets and sleep.

Knock, knock, knock

The teenager’s eyes snapped open and he quickly got to his feet before running towards his door and opening it with one swing. There was no one there. Arthur growled softly and narrowed his eyes, he glanced to his left and then to his right; it was then that he noticed the small pebble on the floor. The sandy blond raised a brow and picked up the pebble, his green eyes examining the small piece of rock. But it wasn’t the only one, a couple of inches away there was another pebble and then another one and another one. It was a little path.

Arthur rubbed his lips together and dropped the pebble in his hands. Slowly and with caution the boy follow the small path of rocks, his feet clumsily taking him down the hall way…wait, his feet? The teenager gasped and stared down at his legs, he was standing! He was walking and he was moving! It was impossible, he couldn’t walk, he was damned to be in a chair for the rest of his life but now, right now he was moving and walking and following the small path ahead of him.

The teenager smiled and wriggled his legs, stretching them as he moved. He spun around with a giggle until his balance was gone and he fell. Arthur gasped and quickly tried to grab onto the wall but he wasn’t falling against the floor, no, he was falling somewhere deeper. He twitched and quickly grabbed onto the rug on the floor before digging his nails roughly against the wooden floors. The boy swallowed heavily and glanced back his eyes growing wide at the dark, deep, hole down below his hanging form. But that wasn’t what scared him the most, no, it was the fact that he could see fire moving and spreading across the abysm.

Arthur let out a soft noise and clawed at the floor, his hands roughly grabbing on the carpet and the floor until his fingers were bleeding but it was no use, his legs were not functioning anymore. “No, no, no, no, please.” He whimpered and kept trying, ignoring how the heat of the fire was slowly getting to him. The teenager was sweating and trying to lift his body just to shiver when the dead weight of his legs would drag it back.

‘If you ask me to help you I will. If you ask me to show you a different path I will. If you want a different ending then you better call my name.’

The green eyed boy felt cold sweat running down his back when he heard the dark voice next to his ear. “W-what?!” He almost squeaked and shook his head, his nerves breaking and his desperation showing as he stared at the fire with wide eyes. Who was he going to call? Who could he call? There was no one in his life that was willing to save him, there was no one willing to help someone like him without getting something in return. Life was nothing but an exchange, if you had something to give then people would look for you and if you didn’t then they would ignore you. Arthur had nothing to give, so how could he possibly consider the idea of screaming for help? But his throat was feeling dry and his lips were moving and he said something he couldn’t understand.

The heat was growing and growing and his feet were slowly burning and Arthur was only able to tell because of the smell. Still the idea of his body parts being set on fire was not very welcoming even if he couldn’t feel the pain below his knees. The teenager felt tears running down his eyes and he closed his eyes, and the fire was clawing at his clothes, burning the pieces of clothing until it reached his waist and Arthur was screaming and his eyes snapped open.

Wide emerald eyes stared in horror at the fire around his room. The door and the wall around the door was on fire. Arthur ripped his blankets off of his body and wiped the tears on his eyes. He had been dreaming, just a dream but this was the reality. There was a real fire in the mansion and for the looks of it he wasn’t even going to be able to get out of his room.

The teenager glanced around his bedroom and reached for his chair, his fingers grasping the metal before pulling the chair towards the bed so he could jump on top. What was he supposed to do? How could he get out?! Arthur felt himself breathing heavily, his eyes were wide and staring at the fire that was attempting to crawl inside his room from under the door.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit! Fuck!” Arthur swallowed heavily and ignored the feeling of helplessness and instead he moved towards the bathroom. He quickly closed the bathroom door and grabbed a towel from the rack next to the sink before flipped the faucet open. The boy tossed the towel into the sink, letting it absorb the water. Once the towel was wet he turned the chair around and threw the towel against the bottom of the door so the smoke wouldn’t come through and the fire wouldn’t expand. But this was not going to be enough, no, not enough at all. The sandy blond turned the chair again and this time he twisted the handle of the bathtub to let it fill and with a growled he flipped the other one open as well, the water quickly spitting out and filling the bathtub. Not enough, it wasn’t enough so the boy did the same with the sink until the water was overflowing and falling against the floor.

But smoke was crawling inside through the door and Arthur began to panic, his breathing was heavy and he almost thought he knew how people that had asthma felt like because his throat was closing up and his eyes were tearing up and it was like if no air was reaching his lungs. What else could he do? What else!? The short boy whimpered and glanced around the room, quickly scanning everything around him until he noticed his window next to the tub.

Arthur quickly moved his chair and then sat at the edge of the tub, moving his body along the edge until he was on the other side of the tub and he was facing the window. The young male rubbed his lips and glanced at the world outside his window and then sighed in relief when he remembered that he was only on the first floor. So with that in mind he reached for the towel rack that was near the tub before yanking on the piece of metal. He pulled and twisted the thing until the screws were coming off and the metal bar came off.

The green eyed male narrowed his eyes and lifted the metal bar before roughly letting it land against the window. The piece of glass trembled but didn’t break so the short male narrowed his eyes and did it harder this time, over and over again until the window began to crack slowly. Soon pieces of glass were falling and then the window shattered. Arthur smirked and used the towel rack to clean up the pieces of glass that were still sticking out from the window frame.

He was going to be able to get out, yes! He was going to be able to do it, no doubt about it. With a smile the boy reached for the window frame and lifted his body just to feel something against his shoulders and soon he was being pulled back inside the bathtub. Arthur screamed and swallowed water, his hands quickly waving around and trying to grab on anything to hold onto. He felt his air being replaced by water, his nose was burning and his lungs felt like they were slowly being filled and it was such an odd sensation but he couldn’t think about that now, not now! The teenager grabbed onto the edge of the tub and pulled himself out before taking a deep breath. Both of his green eyes were now red and he was only capable of breathing one more time before his body was pulled back inside the tub.

Arthur struggle and kept a tight hold on the edge of the tub but something was keeping him inside. It was a tight grip on his shoulder and he glanced around, ignoring how his eyes were being filled by water. He couldn’t see anything, nothing at all but then his eyes were able to get a sight of something that was in the water, it was a feather. The young teen narrowed his eyes curiously but then he closed his eyes as he felt his precious air escaping his throat. With one last strong pull he lifted his body to breathe, water was crawling out of his mouth and he coughed loudly, feeling the urge to throw up but he didn’t get a chance to do so, because he was being pulled back inside the tub and this time the boy didn’t have any more strength. It was all gone.

The teenager closed his eyes tightly and tried to keep his body under to control to hold his breath as much as he could but it was hard to do it when he knew he wasn’t going to be able to pull himself out of the water. Arthur’s brain stood still when he saw a shadow dancing over his eyelids and it was almost like if he could feel it and then the pressure on his shoulder was gone and the boy pulled himself out of the tub. He breathed loudly and coughed, his body now leaning against the edge of the window before he quickly glanced around. The fire was now eating up the wall next to his bathroom and he didn’t have much time before things began to collapse.

The boy ignored how light his head felt and how weak his body was and instead he grabbed onto the window frame and with one strong yank he pulled himself out of the room and fell down against the soft grass below him. Arthur didn’t stop moving though, he crawled and clawed at the grass until he was sure he was at a safe distance, and then he turned around.

Wide emerald eyes stared at the scene in front of him. The mansion was being consumed by the fire and some windows were even shattering and letting out a dark, heavy smoke. The ceiling was collapsing and the Arthur shivered when he noticed the windows on the second floor. He was able to see the figures hitting against the windows and screaming and the fire around them; his ‘siblings’ were trying to open the windows but it wasn’t working and then they tried to throw things against the windows but they wouldn’t shatter. The teenagers were crying and coughing, their bloodshot eyes staring down at Arthur with fear and pain and soon fire was consuming even that.

Arthur coughed softly and looked away, his fingers digging against the grass underneath him. He couldn’t watch this any longer, no more, no more. It was impossible to stand the sight of this but he turned his eyes towards the mansion again and then he stared at the windows near the front door. There, with panic in his eyes and desperation in his movements was his dear step dad. The old man was throwing chairs against the windows before moving towards the door and Arthur could see the door shaking and moving but it was not opening. The politician tried the windows again, this time throwing himself against the piece of glass but the windows were not even shaking, not showing any type of cracks, no nothing.

The green eyed boy smiled, his lips slowly twitched into a smile and he ignored the fact that his siblings were dead and instead he enjoyed the view in front of him. He stared and watched what the old man was doing, how he was trying any possible way of getting out but it was no valid. He was trapped and fire was slowly wrapping around him and he even threw things against the fire like if it was going to make a difference, like if the fire was a scared child that was going to tremble and back away. No, the fire grew bigger and soon enough it was wrapping around the male figure and the politician was flailing his arms around and rolling on the floor and trying to break the window still.

And Arthur just laughed, he felt tears rolling down from the corner of his eyes but he kept laughing. Both of his hands were yanking on the grass around him but all he could do was to stare at the scene of his step dad burning to death. Maybe it was how light his head felt or maybe it was the fact that he was exhausted but he could have sworn he heard someone laughing with him and felt someone wrapping his arms around his body lovingly before everything went dark and he felt his conscious slipping away.

That, anon, was perfect. Immensely disturbing, but in all the right ways - it kept the tone of the original tale, and it made me shudder at the end there. I never thought someone would fill such an odd request, so thankyou. ♥

This is delicious, author!anon. :)

*embarrassing giggle*

*giggles some more*

*swoons at Latvia!anon*

Gilbert was sleeping peacefully. He was dreaming about something nice and calming. He smiled angelically. He was at home, on the family’s estate. He’d obviously escaped work and his tutors because he was lying out in the meadow listening to the birds.

CRACK

A tree branch fell out of the sky and onto his body. Gilbert yelped in the dream. There wasn’t supposed to be a tree there!

SMACK

With a cry Gilbert sat up to see a very angry looking Feliks Łukasiewicz standing over him, heel raised high.

“So you decided to have a little fun with your faggy roommate last night, huh? Obviously it can’t hurt since I’m like so ASKING FOR IT!”

“The fuck!?” Gilbert shouted and scrambled back, arms in front of his face. That heel was not insubstantial and he was too awesome to be murdered by a shoe, a girl’s shoe at that!

“You! You fucking decided it’d be funny to rape—”

“I don’t know what you’re on about!” Gilbert shouted. He wanted to go back to that nice forest meadow without the angry gay crossdressing roommate from hell.

“I’m not in the clothes I came home in, my ass fucking hurts like a bitch, and you’ve got my lipstick smeared all over your face!”

Gilbert paled. Fuck. That meant he really had … He’d hoped it was a dream, a delusion, early onset insanity (it always did run in his family), anything but kissing his crossdressing hell-sprite of a roommate. Then he turned red. Gilbert von Fucking Awesome did not need to rape people. Not when they submitted to the awesomeness that was him.

“I didn’t have sex with you!” Gilbert shouted, pressing himself against the wall as Feliks climbed a step higher on the ladder. “You’re fucking nuts, you came home drunk and I let you in! See if I do that next time!” He glared at Feliks.

Feliks actually faltered and lowered his weapon.

“What?”

Gilbert kept an eye on the shoe. He didn’t want to be brained anytime soon. He needed his brains for his physics lab. “You left in the afternoon, went to Liet’s or something,” Gilbert said. “You came back, fucking completely wasted at two am.”

Feliks narrowed his eyes but didn’t say anything.

“I helped you into the room, unzipped your dress, and then we sat on your bed and talked,” Gilbert said. Feliks was silent and then pursed his lips.

“Why would I talk to you?” he demanded his voice filled with suspicion.

“I don’t know! You were fucking drunk off your ass!” Gilbert burst out. It’s not like he wanted to listen to Feliks’ romance troubles. “But you kept going on about Toris hating you and loving this girl and how upset you were that you couldn’t turn him fucking gay!” Gilbert paused, panting a bit. It was six thirty am. Way too fucking early. “Oh,” he added in calmer tones. “And then you kissed me.” He smirked.

Feliks’ eyes widen comically. Gilbert just let the realization sink in. This was perfect. There was no need for Feliks to ever know that there was a good chance that it had been Gilbert that made the first move.

“Look if you don’t believe me call Liet, you were talking to him when you got home,” Gilbert said, laying out in his bed now that Feliks didn’t seem likely to murder him in his sleep.

CRACK!

Feliks brought the shoe down over Gilbert’s head. “OW! The fuck was that for?!”

“Bitch,” Feliks said, disappearing down the ladder. “That was for stealing my shoe.”

“I didn’t fucking take it!”

Gilbert spent most of his most of his first class with an ice pack clutched to his head. Though he was mostly able to convince Alfred that the ice pack wasn’t an ice pack but an ingenious way to keep the ghosts away. Alfred had given him a look that said the blond clearly thought that Gilbert was nuts.

Gilbert wasn’t going to take that from Alfred and quickly launched into a discussion of the sequel to Paranormal Activities. Gilbert really wanted to go see it, since the first one wasn’t scary at all. Alfred had spent several sleepless nights after seeing the film for the first time. That left him with a very subdued Alfred for the rest of the lecture, ideally it’d continue until lab, but Gilbert wasn’t going to get overly hopeful.

After his Linear Algebra class, he found Francis and Antonio at their usual corner table. He sat down without a word. Francis was eating something French, expensive and hand prepared. Gilbert eyed it, wondering if Francis was trying to trick him into eating snails again. Antonio looked him over.

“You look like shit,” he said blandly turning back to Francis with a smile. “And then Lovino did—”

“Hold on for a moment, Tonio,” Francis said holding up a manicured hand. Personally Gilbert thought that it was girly beyond belief. Not even Feliks went in for manicures. When Feliks Łukasiewicz is more manly than you are, well then damn, you’ve probably got ovaries or something.

“Gilbert, Antonio is right, you don’t look well,” Francis said. He eyed Gilbert and paused. “You—is that lipstick you’re wearing.”

“Shit!” Gilbert rubbed his mouth on his sleeve. He didn’t expect that stuff to stay on. Now Alfred’s first comment of ‘Lady troubles’ made a bit more sense. How horrifying. “No! I didn’t think it would stay on—fucking bitch.” Of course Feliks would wear the lipstick that stuck to other people and not his own faggy lips.

“Oh really?” Francis said, giving Gilbert a look. Gilbert glared back. “And how, pray tell, did lipstick get on your lips then?”

“Did Feliks finally snap and put makeup on you?” Antonio asked dreamily. “What did he threaten you with last time? Lime-green?”

Gilbert made a noise of not-pwning-at-life and sunk down his chair, head on the table. There was no noise from Francis or Antonio. That was good. He wasn’t sure he wanted to hear anymore of their theories, not when they were so much more appealing than the truth.

“Gilbert, that’s not sanitary.” There, that was Francis, trying to be the voice of reason. Antonio was likely just staring at him, dreaming of tomatoes and Lovino.

“Don’t care, I’ll wash myself in peroxide later.”

Francis sighed. “Gilbert, what’s wrong? Alfred said something about an anti-ghost hat.” Silence. “You want to know what he said the hat looked like?”

Gilbert really didn’t.

“He described something suspiciously like an icepack,” Francis said. Dammit, why didn’t Gilbert just wear a regular hat over the ice pack? Or at least cover it in tin foil? “Do you want to tell me what that was about?”

“No.”

“Gilbert,” Francis said. Gilbert peeked out from under his hair. He sighed, sometimes he felt that Francis was reading a little too much of Sir Arthur Doyle’s work and starting to fancy himself a detective. Arthur often said that Francis couldn’t detect himself out of a wet paper bag. Gilbert had to agree with him there.

“What?” he said.

“You have a lump on your head, recent because the swelling would have gone down if it had happened in the hours of night, I suspect that it was not the result of you falling out of bed otherwise you would have just told Alfred that. Further more—”

“Alright! Alright! Fine, I’ll tell you,” Gilbert said. He hated Sherlock Holmes so much. Both Frances and Arthur wouldn’t shut up about it. “Feliks beat me awake with his stupid high heel.”

Silence.

Gilbert looked up. Antonio was staring at him, one cherry tomato halfway to his mouth. Francis’ faint eyebrows were almost obscured by his thin blond hair. His blue eyes were wide.

“Wait what?”

“Why?”

When Gilbert didn’t say anything Francis pressed further. “Gilbert,” Francis said. “Did Feliks just snap or did you—“

“I didn’t do anything! What sort of guy do you think I am? Just cause he’s drunk and dressed like a hot girl doesn’t mean I’m going—“

“Whoa,” Antonio said regaining his voice. “We didn’t say that at—“

“Gilbert, why don’t you tell us the whole story?”

“And then yeah, I kissed him,” Gilbert muttered. He stared at his palms, held up in front of his face. “He was going to cry and it was late and he looked like a girl.” He sighed. “So yeah. That’s how I got hi lipstick on me.”

“And then he cracked you over the head with his shoe?” Antonio asked a bit too eagerly. Gilbert and Francis glared at him.

“Did he?”

“No, it was just awkward. He kissed back, I mean it wasn’t like I forced him to kiss me,” Gilbert said with a shrug. “He just didn’t exactly remember that when he woke up.” He shrugged. So much for him getting along better with his roommate.

“Ah,” Francis said and Gilbert had to wonder how many times Francis had been in that situation. He looked as though he understood Gilbert’s predicament a little too much or at least had been in that situation a little too often.

“But you kissed Feliks, your roommate, the super fem faggy one?” Antonio asked, his eyebrows high on his face. “Like for reals kissed him, not like a covering-his-mouth-with-yours-so-you-don’t-hear-his-shouts?” Gilbert and Francis looked at him. “What? I do it all the time to Lovino. But then we usually have sex afterwards.” Antonio paused to think. Gilbert mentally winced. “Did you have sex afterwards?”

“No, no we did not have sex afterwards, that’s sort of the entire point!” Gilbert said. Honestly, Antonio was so, so, there weren’t even words.

“Did you like it?” Francis asked. Gilbert didn’t know which of them he hated more at moment.

“He’s, he’s not that bad of a kisser and when he’s in drag, he’s sorta—he looks just a girl,” Gilbert said, not meeting Francis’ eyes.

“Well,” Francis said sounding rather stunned. “Perhaps you’ll get along better now.”

“Oh, that’s hardly likely,” Gilbert said, getting up. “He tried to kill me in my sleep. Anyways, I’ve got class now. See you later.”

“But you don’t have—”

“Shhhh, Tonio.”

Gilbert came back to the dorm in a good mood. He’d spent the lab slowly psyching Alfred out about the newest zombie thriller and telling him all the ghost stories that Arthur knew and how he should like totally ask him to tell those stories. Alfred’s weird look had been irritated, so he settled for smudging a bit of silver nitrate on Alfred’s nose.

Now Alfred was going to permanently look like he had a smudge on his nose. Arthur was probably going to rub Alfred’s nose raw trying to get the spot of dirt off. Gilbert grinned. What made other people’s pain so beautiful? Who cares, as long as Alfred was irked Gilbert was happy.

Someone on the floor was playing music, something pop-y and newish. Gilbert crossed his fingers and hope, just hoped that it wasn’t his room that was playing the music. He was getting sick of listening to Feliks’ music.

There was silence when he got to the door and then he winced. There was singing. Though it wasn’t too bad. He paused. He recognized this song. Gilbert opened the door.

There was Feliks, singing into his hairbrush, eyes closed. He was bare-chest, with a simple faggy sequined vest and jeans that weren’t tight or girly at all. He has barefeet and really cute toes.

“I’m your biggest fan, I’ll follow you until you love me,” Feliks sang. He wasn’t half bad. Gilbert brushed that thought off. He grinned viciously. “Papa-paparazzi. Baby there’s no other super star, you know that of me. Papa-paparazzi.” Gilbert glided across the room. Feliks kept his eyes closed, perhaps imagining a cheering crowd.

“But I won’t stop until that boy is mine,” Gilbert and Feliks sang in near perfect duet as Gilbert slid his arm around Feliks shoulder and leered at him.

Feliks yelped and jumped about a half meter in the air. “You—you—you heard me and since when do you sing, when do you know Lady Gaga lyrics.”

Gilbert doubted that his ‘since it makes you mad’ response would be highly welcomed.

------
writer anon hopes other anons enjoy

GAH! it's 2 am I was supposed to sleep dammit.
sorry about the lame ending (to Part 2) but it was written at 1:30....

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Hetalia Kink meme part 14 -- CLOSED

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What Canadians do for politeness...

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HERPDERP

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The New Great Depression (2/?)

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And he's like so annoying (part 2a/X)

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