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Aww, this sounds so sweet, especially bonus 1. Seconded!
You're off to a good start, anon! I wouldn't have guessed it was your first time. I remember that childhood prayer (from the title), which fits extremely well with Italy and Romano's religiousness and the prompt.
It's just a shame that the word "Oblivion" does not conjure up the proper mental associations for me ever since I played the game Oblivion. *smacks self*
It's just a shame that the word "Oblivion" does not conjure up the proper mental associations for me ever since I played the game Oblivion. *smacks self*
transcoding [7a/] READ THIS ONE IGNORE THE ONE PREVIOUSLY POSTED!
(Anonymous) 2010-09-19 12:09 pm (UTC)(link) Sorry I haven't updated in forever! personal stuff came up + a broken laptop, but now I think I have the drive continue with it! :D
--
The talking in the room drops like the temperature after a cold blast of snow, and all eyes are staring at the door to the cafeteria like predators. It opens with a creak, that even above the quiet mumbling can be heard, and the men start to shift eagerly in their seats. The Warden leads the other two men into the room, and she's got a commanding presence as always, Ivan comments to himself.
A guard, he can't seem to recall his name, is walking behind the trio and Ivan only glances at him before he's suddenly pulled--like every other man in the room, to that tuft of blond hair from beneath the large, gray hood. It's customary for the--... well, Ivan doesn't really want to say victim, nor does he want to say prey or anything like that, no matter how fitting it may seem at the moment. Anyway, Alfred--that's his name, right?--is protected by that gray hood, that they'll soon take off and then the madness will begin.
Ivan looks around at the crowd, all young to middle-aged men, some even in their forties, and he looks back at Alfred. Eighteen and already screwed over. He feels slight pity for him, but only a slight amount--of course it's not much.
The burning desire he'd had to own Alfred has died down a little since the last time they looked at each other, to a low coil of desire to fuck him in his stomach. Of course, there will be other chances in the near future, considering Ivan is "acquaintances" with the inmates rich enough to win this auction.
He'll be able to fuck the boy once or twice, and he'll be satisfied.
--
The talking in the room drops like the temperature after a cold blast of snow, and all eyes are staring at the door to the cafeteria like predators. It opens with a creak, that even above the quiet mumbling can be heard, and the men start to shift eagerly in their seats. The Warden leads the other two men into the room, and she's got a commanding presence as always, Ivan comments to himself.
A guard, he can't seem to recall his name, is walking behind the trio and Ivan only glances at him before he's suddenly pulled--like every other man in the room, to that tuft of blond hair from beneath the large, gray hood. It's customary for the--... well, Ivan doesn't really want to say victim, nor does he want to say prey or anything like that, no matter how fitting it may seem at the moment. Anyway, Alfred--that's his name, right?--is protected by that gray hood, that they'll soon take off and then the madness will begin.
Ivan looks around at the crowd, all young to middle-aged men, some even in their forties, and he looks back at Alfred. Eighteen and already screwed over. He feels slight pity for him, but only a slight amount--of course it's not much.
The burning desire he'd had to own Alfred has died down a little since the last time they looked at each other, to a low coil of desire to fuck him in his stomach. Of course, there will be other chances in the near future, considering Ivan is "acquaintances" with the inmates rich enough to win this auction.
He'll be able to fuck the boy once or twice, and he'll be satisfied.
The guard is walking next to Alfred, one hand wrapped around Alfred's forearm and tugging him like a sheep towards the front of the cafeteria, near the large table the rest of the prison has silently and affectionately dubbed "center stage", or the bidding platform.
He sees Francis and Arthur talking quietly with each other, for once not throttling or throwing curses. Arthur keeps giving Alfred long looks, licking his lips and Francis just chuckles a little and presses an ignored kiss to his cheek. Ivan has to look away with a small, uncaring snort. Francis will never be able to understand that Arthur's emotions can't seem to go past rough fucking.
On the other side of the room, Gilbert is talking to Antonio Carriedo, one of the more relaxed guards--relaxed as in smuggles items in for them all. (Even though Ivan would be able to get what he wants without Antonio, he provides nice, easy access through security. His buoyant personality always sets off people, makes them trust him. But Ivan knows better then that.) Gilbert keeps shifting from side to side, while Antonio sits, languid and permanently relaxed, slouching with his elbows braced back against the table. Ivan sees him smile, and words like 'relax, leave those lips, accompanied by some Spanish endearment for his friend, and Gilbert only frowns a little and runs a hand through his hair.
It's slightly piqued his interest, Gilbert's obvious interest in Alfred--that which is so different from the obvious lust most men here have for him, Ivan expected more "lust" in the equation. Whatever, though. Ivan really doesn't.
Although, it's interesting. There's a difference in his mind.
Elizabeta pulls the hood off Alfred, and instantly there's whooping noise from the crowd at his blue eyes and his blond hair--baby faced and innocent looking almost scared look that almost stirs his emotions again, but not quite.
He sees Francis and Arthur talking quietly with each other, for once not throttling or throwing curses. Arthur keeps giving Alfred long looks, licking his lips and Francis just chuckles a little and presses an ignored kiss to his cheek. Ivan has to look away with a small, uncaring snort. Francis will never be able to understand that Arthur's emotions can't seem to go past rough fucking.
On the other side of the room, Gilbert is talking to Antonio Carriedo, one of the more relaxed guards--relaxed as in smuggles items in for them all. (Even though Ivan would be able to get what he wants without Antonio, he provides nice, easy access through security. His buoyant personality always sets off people, makes them trust him. But Ivan knows better then that.) Gilbert keeps shifting from side to side, while Antonio sits, languid and permanently relaxed, slouching with his elbows braced back against the table. Ivan sees him smile, and words like 'relax, leave those lips, accompanied by some Spanish endearment for his friend, and Gilbert only frowns a little and runs a hand through his hair.
It's slightly piqued his interest, Gilbert's obvious interest in Alfred--that which is so different from the obvious lust most men here have for him, Ivan expected more "lust" in the equation. Whatever, though. Ivan really doesn't.
Although, it's interesting. There's a difference in his mind.
Elizabeta pulls the hood off Alfred, and instantly there's whooping noise from the crowd at his blue eyes and his blond hair--baby faced and innocent looking almost scared look that almost stirs his emotions again, but not quite.
"Alright!" Elizabeta says to calm the men, and it works like a charm, "You know why we're here." Ivan can tell she hates doing this--by her stance and how on edge she looks but he doubts anyone here really gives a shit about it. He could really use a smoke right now.
There are a few obnoxious cat calls and crude jokes from the crowd, and Ivan watches as Alfred takes a slow, shuddering breath.
"Alfred F. Jones. Eighteen--" There are more, innappropriate, excited comments from the crowd which Elizabeta silences with a glare that she is tried and practiced in, "years old." She lists basic information about him, his height, weight(Alfred winces a little, Ivan is the only one that notices)--but when she gets to the part where she'll announce his sentence, the room quiets in anticipation.
They all want to know how long they'll have to play for Alfred, how long they'll have to win him over, but at least three men in this room already know how long for sure.
"...Life sentence."
There's an audible intake of air throughout the room, and Ivan senses several men drop out of the auction just by those two words. Consider it a slight fear or wariness, because they don't know what Alfred has done to get into prison--nor will they take the risk. Ivan thinks these men are cowards, yes.
"Continuing then... the starting bid is--"
"Two-hundred-fifty."
Francis is the first to bid. He's always the first. Elizabeta doesn't even blink in his direction, looking through the crowd for any other bids or offers.
Arthur sits up straighter and props one long leg over the other, "Three-hundred."
A man in the back calls out, "Three-seventy-five!" And these three men start the bid-war--other's joining in to call out numbers, offers for Alfred F. Jones who is still standing there like a lost puppy in front of the guard, looking out into the crowd for... for something, it seems.
The count quickly raises to seven-hundred dollars before Gilbert Beilschmidt opens his mouth, calling out over the crowd like the loudmouth he is with a, "Eight-hundred-fifty."
By now, the poorer men have dropped back to sulk, the richer men are still contemplating whether or not it's worth it, and Ivan looks back to the front when his eyes suddenly catch Alfred's glance again.
And that possessive fire lights up, faster and more furious than before because Alfred's wringing his hands together anxiously, those cobalt blue eyes so vulnerable and pleading that Ivan wants to see them at a closer range, a much closer range. He wants them looking at him and him alone, a burning, indescribeable feeling of lust, want, and other emotions he can't really figure out at this point. He wants to grab Alfred away from these men and ravish him alone or in front of them--fuck they can look, but they can never touch what is already his. And Alfred is his, now.
Ivan knows it's those pretty, interesting blue eyes that spur him on like cash, drugs, sex and alcohol--but he has no objections.
"A thousand dollars." Ivan hears himself say.
He looks at the other bidders that could possiblly dare to bid higher than him with his chilling gaze, silently telling--no, assuring them that they will not win this bid and it is better for them to give up.
Gilbert and him glance at each other briefly, and Ivan's wearing a small, satisfied, smug smirk that is daring Gilbert to try and beat his bid, but warning him that he better not if he knew what was good for him. Gilbert doesn't do anything, frowning a little in distast and Ivan knows he's won.
--
There are a few obnoxious cat calls and crude jokes from the crowd, and Ivan watches as Alfred takes a slow, shuddering breath.
"Alfred F. Jones. Eighteen--" There are more, innappropriate, excited comments from the crowd which Elizabeta silences with a glare that she is tried and practiced in, "years old." She lists basic information about him, his height, weight(Alfred winces a little, Ivan is the only one that notices)--but when she gets to the part where she'll announce his sentence, the room quiets in anticipation.
They all want to know how long they'll have to play for Alfred, how long they'll have to win him over, but at least three men in this room already know how long for sure.
"...Life sentence."
There's an audible intake of air throughout the room, and Ivan senses several men drop out of the auction just by those two words. Consider it a slight fear or wariness, because they don't know what Alfred has done to get into prison--nor will they take the risk. Ivan thinks these men are cowards, yes.
"Continuing then... the starting bid is--"
"Two-hundred-fifty."
Francis is the first to bid. He's always the first. Elizabeta doesn't even blink in his direction, looking through the crowd for any other bids or offers.
Arthur sits up straighter and props one long leg over the other, "Three-hundred."
A man in the back calls out, "Three-seventy-five!" And these three men start the bid-war--other's joining in to call out numbers, offers for Alfred F. Jones who is still standing there like a lost puppy in front of the guard, looking out into the crowd for... for something, it seems.
The count quickly raises to seven-hundred dollars before Gilbert Beilschmidt opens his mouth, calling out over the crowd like the loudmouth he is with a, "Eight-hundred-fifty."
By now, the poorer men have dropped back to sulk, the richer men are still contemplating whether or not it's worth it, and Ivan looks back to the front when his eyes suddenly catch Alfred's glance again.
And that possessive fire lights up, faster and more furious than before because Alfred's wringing his hands together anxiously, those cobalt blue eyes so vulnerable and pleading that Ivan wants to see them at a closer range, a much closer range. He wants them looking at him and him alone, a burning, indescribeable feeling of lust, want, and other emotions he can't really figure out at this point. He wants to grab Alfred away from these men and ravish him alone or in front of them--fuck they can look, but they can never touch what is already his. And Alfred is his, now.
Ivan knows it's those pretty, interesting blue eyes that spur him on like cash, drugs, sex and alcohol--but he has no objections.
"A thousand dollars." Ivan hears himself say.
He looks at the other bidders that could possiblly dare to bid higher than him with his chilling gaze, silently telling--no, assuring them that they will not win this bid and it is better for them to give up.
Gilbert and him glance at each other briefly, and Ivan's wearing a small, satisfied, smug smirk that is daring Gilbert to try and beat his bid, but warning him that he better not if he knew what was good for him. Gilbert doesn't do anything, frowning a little in distast and Ivan knows he's won.
--
Of course he regrets this later, for some unfathomable reason when he's looking at Alfred up close, he's no longer as interested. They're just blue eyes, now--they're not what they were when he was up in front of everyone. And Alfred seems to like talking. Damn it all, make him shut up. Ivan groans.
They're lying in the seperate beds of the prison cell Ivan now shares with him--he'll eventually replace it with one bed, but he's not completely cruel. (Or he is, only in different ways.)
He's replying to everything Alfred says with either silence or a nod or a grunt, til Alfred gives him an exasperated sigh.
"So why'd you even bid on me? I mean, I'm not gay, and I can't clean for shit or do any of that stuff--"
"Because you were looking at me like a pathetic, trapped animal--and I took pity on you, yes?" Ivan is briefly reminded of the levels of infatuation he'd had at the auction, the infatuation that was now nowhere to be seen and it has left him baffled.
"Oh."
Alfred curls the thick comforter around his shoulders tighter, rolls over to face the wall and frowns like a confused, unsated child.
Ivan merely rolls his eyes, reaching a hand over to flip off the light of the small lamp allocated to each room. He can deal with Alfred... later. All of a sudden, he feels like he's bought a puppy of some sort.
Of course, Alfred is attractive. But he's not... Ivan sees nothing special about him now, it's like the certain quality he'd been pulled in by has disappeared, hidden in some secret crevice of Alfred's person. It displeases Ivan, who wants nothing more to push him up against a wall and taste what he knows is virgin skin--and yet he doesn't. Not yet. He'll wait for that quality of Alfred that makes him want to take him on the spot.
Alfred, however, is somehow actually getting sleep for the first time in this wretched prison, and he snores a little.
Thirded, and you'd have to add Australia and Spain to that list!
...oh GOD, DALEK. ...that was all I could think for about five minutes. ...Once I calmed down from my Dalek spasms, all was well <3...and then I got to the end and promptly went "...wait...fez....fez...OMG, DOCTOR? YES? YES? EEEEEEEEEE." ....oh, Tony, you're so adorable XD random offset from the Doctor flailing, but I love you, Tony <3 <3
"ofinid LORD"...speaking of Time Lords...;;;
"ofinid LORD"...speaking of Time Lords...;;;
Not, Author!annon, but I took it to mean that Matt saw what went down between Alfred and his mom, and basically was moaning and sobbing because of the shock...?
The Spanish Empire puts his Flemish Netherlands in a maid dress, like all proper henchmen should beXD
Oh wow. Massive beatles fan (and aussie) here. Link please?
Love! This prompt is filling my head with so many plot bunnies *swats away* if I wasn't so busy, I'd totally fill! As it is, seconded.
Not body-swapping, precisely, just the personalities switch. I don't know if this can really be pulled off, but we'll see. OP sees this personality-switching virus as an STD spread by France XD, so basically only lovers are affected. More than one coupling dealing with this issue is fine. I'd like to see the rest of the unswitched!world's reactions to this couple.
Anon's choice whether this can be cured, or not.
A/B can be: Germany/N.Ita, Spain/S.Ita, France/Canada, SuFin, USUK, Prussia/Poland (this one's just for the lulz, I admit)
Bonus 1: At first this affects one couple...then another...then another...
Bonus 2: Smut in personalityswitched!bodies
Bonus 3: Couple tries to keep it a secret and act like each other. Doesn't work so well.
Anon's choice whether this can be cured, or not.
A/B can be: Germany/N.Ita, Spain/S.Ita, France/Canada, SuFin, USUK, Prussia/Poland (this one's just for the lulz, I admit)
Bonus 1: At first this affects one couple...then another...then another...
Bonus 2: Smut in personalityswitched!bodies
Bonus 3: Couple tries to keep it a secret and act like each other. Doesn't work so well.
I've been wanting to write FrUK window sex for the longest time, so I might do something for this. <3 Meanwhile, seconded.
Oh please someone fill this. XD I'm already laughing from trying to see Canada act like France, Finland act like Sweden, and Prussia acting like Poland! Oh my gosh. XD Ok, I'm gonna go to laugh some more now. XD
Seconding for the sake of Elizabeth!France XD epic is epic. *urge to go replay her P3 now*
...a fabulous Prussia? Insecure/invisible France? ...herocomplex!England? Cute and fluffy Sweeden? Ditzy Germany? Someone needs to do this. ....Though I have to admit, Spain acting like S. Italy would scare me shitless;;;
While I agree with first!anon about France's characterization becoming more intricate, I think what struck me the most was this:
“No,” answered France, without a hint of humor or exasperation.
Because by that point I was becoming tired of Alfred's need to have everything repeated to him three or four times, and you took that and spun it on its head. Very well done.
“No,” answered France, without a hint of humor or exasperation.
Because by that point I was becoming tired of Alfred's need to have everything repeated to him three or four times, and you took that and spun it on its head. Very well done.
I love it so much!! Your style is hilarious, and Tony's thoughts and way of putting things very lulzy XD
I can't wait to see more of this, judging by the first two paragraphs it's gonna be vety amusingXD (oh, GermanyXD)
I can't wait to see more of this, judging by the first two paragraphs it's gonna be vety amusingXD (oh, GermanyXD)
Gosh, I have such a BONER for this France...he's so wonderful, kind, patient and the best lover ever...keep at it, please. he's gorgeous <3
England's uncomfortableness is very amusingXD. Poor darling is impossibly embarrassed (so is poor Matt..I loved his sentence at the end, having more tact than his brotherXD). Alfred is also beautiful, with his rage turned embarrassed (stuttering) curiosity.
I simply can't wait to see more of this ^^
also, if you're the author of Along Came Alfred, this is getting a little freaky...because I'm the OP for that one tooXD
England's uncomfortableness is very amusingXD. Poor darling is impossibly embarrassed (so is poor Matt..I loved his sentence at the end, having more tact than his brotherXD). Alfred is also beautiful, with his rage turned embarrassed (stuttering) curiosity.
I simply can't wait to see more of this ^^
also, if you're the author of Along Came Alfred, this is getting a little freaky...because I'm the OP for that one tooXD
You can download the whole book as a PDF here: http://www.strategicstudiesinstitute.army.mil/pdffiles/PUB760.pdf
It's technically a book/report the U.S. gov'nt commissioned, with different scholars and specialists writing chapters on Aussie/U.S. relations (which is why you can download the whole thing for free). I downloaded it, on the off-chance that there would be anything useful, when I saw the title to the second chapter. I'm was all like George Harrison? WTF?
It's basically about how the U.S. gov'nt doesn't appreciate Australia enough (which is true, even though Americans loves Australia in a way they don't Britain or even Canada, so go figure :\ )
BUT, but the chapter is FULL of Beatles references (song titles, Yoko Ono, etc) and of course that quote - making it the most awesome gov'nt report EVER.
It's technically a book/report the U.S. gov'nt commissioned, with different scholars and specialists writing chapters on Aussie/U.S. relations (which is why you can download the whole thing for free). I downloaded it, on the off-chance that there would be anything useful, when I saw the title to the second chapter. I'm was all like George Harrison? WTF?
It's basically about how the U.S. gov'nt doesn't appreciate Australia enough (which is true, even though Americans loves Australia in a way they don't Britain or even Canada, so go figure :\ )
BUT, but the chapter is FULL of Beatles references (song titles, Yoko Ono, etc) and of course that quote - making it the most awesome gov'nt report EVER.
FUCKIN' AWESOME
THE BEST
OMG AUTHOR!ANON YOU MADE ME STRUGGLE FROM DYING B/c OF LAUGHING TOO HARD
THE BEST
OMG AUTHOR!ANON YOU MADE ME STRUGGLE FROM DYING B/c OF LAUGHING TOO HARD
Quick Author Notes before continuing.
1. In this story the characters are not anthropormorphized characterizations of their nations and culture. Characters are human and thus can hold positions within their respective governments and subsequently are acknowledged by the rest of us. That being said, I did try to keep their canon personalities.
2. Story request strongly influenced by Breaking Benjamin's "Dance with the Devil". Quite a few of their songs have similar sort of theme. So I had their other albums on in the background as I wrote this to help me get the atmosphere just right. Of course, dear readers, you aren't going to hear that since text-based stories don't come with a soundtrack, so I decided to include snippets of the lyrics at the beginning of each chapter, so you, dear readers, could have a similar experience. They are not integral to the story, so if you don't like it, skip them. If you do, then please enjoy. :)
(Curious about the music? Breaking Benjamin's style is hard rock, and some of their popular songs played on the radio have been: "So Cold", "Diary of Jane" and "I Will Not Bow". Gamers will recognize "Blow Me Away" from the second Halo game.)
Now onto Chapter 2!
1. In this story the characters are not anthropormorphized characterizations of their nations and culture. Characters are human and thus can hold positions within their respective governments and subsequently are acknowledged by the rest of us. That being said, I did try to keep their canon personalities.
2. Story request strongly influenced by Breaking Benjamin's "Dance with the Devil". Quite a few of their songs have similar sort of theme. So I had their other albums on in the background as I wrote this to help me get the atmosphere just right. Of course, dear readers, you aren't going to hear that since text-based stories don't come with a soundtrack, so I decided to include snippets of the lyrics at the beginning of each chapter, so you, dear readers, could have a similar experience. They are not integral to the story, so if you don't like it, skip them. If you do, then please enjoy. :)
(Curious about the music? Breaking Benjamin's style is hard rock, and some of their popular songs played on the radio have been: "So Cold", "Diary of Jane" and "I Will Not Bow". Gamers will recognize "Blow Me Away" from the second Halo game.)
Now onto Chapter 2!
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