[fanfic] Torture Devices
I know I've got a 50 Prompts fic to write, so this counts as a warm-up fic...? It's also ridiculously silly and has no point besides the giggles; I laughed when I wrote it and resisted making it even dumber than it already is. Inspired by the fact that the Romans used tickling as a torture method.
Title: Torture Devices
Fandom: Axis Powers Hetalia
Pairing: none, gen fic
Warnings: general silliness, language
Summary: Germany and the Italy brothers discuss methods to make England talk, to little effect.
“Now that we’ve got you, you’ll give up all your classified war secrets.”
“Fat bloody chance,” England spat. He missed Germany’s boot by a few inches and tossed his head defiantly. So what if he had gotten discovered again. So what if he had gotten tied up with a coarse rope that he was starting to suspect his skin was allergic to. He was dirtied and humiliated and compromised but Her Majesty’s men were no cowards. “You’ll have to kill me first.”
“We found him first,” Romano grumbled, looking angry (like he always did). “He was sneaking around our house and we grabbed him. So he’s under our jurisdiction.”
“You brought him to my house,” Germany pointed out. Romano glared at him and pointed to Feliciano with his middle finger.
“He thought it would be a good idea.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Feliciano chirped, obviously very pleased with himself. “Germany’s really strong so he’ll be able to get England to talk! England was really scary, Germany! He kept swearing at us and saying our mother had…had…intimate relations with a dog!” This, apparently, was the most mortifying thing to say, ever. “So…so I thought since Germany likes that sort of thing…”
“I am still here!” England announced, as Germany began sputtering. The ground was hard concrete on his knees and they hadn’t even given him a chair or at least hay to sit on. He was not going to complain, though; he was a hardened British soldier. He wouldn’t need to rely on anyone to come save him (though he suspected America was probably off bombing some faraway part of Italy looking for him - or at least he liked to think so.
No, he didn’t.)
“You’re not an ordinary man,” Germany said, turning his attention back to England, as Feliciano whispered things to Romano about Germany that Romano did not want to know about. The Macaroni brothers were pretty pathetic, so Germany had to do his best to be the most intimidating out of the three captors. “Ordinary methods to making you talk won’t work then.”
“I know!” Italy cried, throwing his hand in the air like an enthusiastic student. “There’s an old torture method I know!”
Germany and England turned at him incredulously. “I’m certain that withholding hot water from England so he cannot cook pasta doesn’t count,” Germany said helpfully.
“Not like he could cook pasta to begin with. That would be a waste,” Romano added.
“No, no. It’s really effective! We used to use it with enemies all the time!” Italy was very happy with himself. Not only had he helped capture England, but now he could help contribute to the war effort! “See, it’s like this. First, we hold him down. Then…” He paused for dramatic effect. “…we take off his shoes and tickle his feet.”
Germany was thinking there must be more than that, but by Italy’s enthusiastic arm waving, that was it. Romano was looking interested too. “Yeah, wurst freak!” he chimed in. “I think that’s a good idea too.”
“Tickling.” Germany watched the two brunettes closely. “I am supposed to think that tickling England’s feet is going to make him spill all his war secrets.”
“Yes,” they said in unison.
The knots in the rope were tough, England thought. Alone, he wouldn’t have suspected either Feliciano or Romano to really tie him up, but when they were arguing about the most effective knots and Feliciano was pulling this way and Romano was pulling that way, they managed to orchestrate the most complex knot. Thankfully, they were stupid enough to think it enough, so they had not patted him down. While they were distracted, he would get the knife hidden in his boot.
“I don’t think so,” Germany said.
“Oh come on!” Romano crossed his arms. “Think about it. If we keep going at for hours, he’s going to laugh his sides off. Maybe he’ll even bleed. Do you really need this information now? He’ll crack, I’m sure of it.”
“We used it a long time ago,” Feliciano nodded. “So we know it works.”
“You also used to use horses, and now you use cars. We’re not going to tickle him.” Germany turned back to England, who glared back at him. “I suppose we could always use the waterboard…”
“No!” Feliciano wailed. “Waterboarding always takes the water I want to use to make pasta! I’m useless if I don’t make pasta!”
“Fine. Alright then. England, we can use a blow torch and burn off your p-”
“Germany? We don’t have a blow torch.”
“Italy?” Italy jumped to attention. “Get out of the room, please.”
“But I wanna help…”
“Everyone put their fucking hands where I can see them or I swear I’ll blow the bloody place up!” England had managed to free himself in the span of time they were arguing among themselves and was holding a mean-looking hand grenade. He waved his blade at them. “Open the door and I won’t kill the lot of you.”
“Oh, don’t worry about it,” Feliciano said pleasantly as he put his hands up. “I always try and use those things, but they never work…”
The blast sent the guards running but they were no match for a royally pissed off blonde who took off running into the woods. Feliciano was telling anyone who would listen that England was probably a real threat since he could make the grenady-things he could never use to work. Romano, his hair wild and his frown etched into his face, turned to Germany.
“I told you to use the tickling method.”
Title: Torture Devices
Fandom: Axis Powers Hetalia
Pairing: none, gen fic
Warnings: general silliness, language
Summary: Germany and the Italy brothers discuss methods to make England talk, to little effect.
“Now that we’ve got you, you’ll give up all your classified war secrets.”
“Fat bloody chance,” England spat. He missed Germany’s boot by a few inches and tossed his head defiantly. So what if he had gotten discovered again. So what if he had gotten tied up with a coarse rope that he was starting to suspect his skin was allergic to. He was dirtied and humiliated and compromised but Her Majesty’s men were no cowards. “You’ll have to kill me first.”
“We found him first,” Romano grumbled, looking angry (like he always did). “He was sneaking around our house and we grabbed him. So he’s under our jurisdiction.”
“You brought him to my house,” Germany pointed out. Romano glared at him and pointed to Feliciano with his middle finger.
“He thought it would be a good idea.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Feliciano chirped, obviously very pleased with himself. “Germany’s really strong so he’ll be able to get England to talk! England was really scary, Germany! He kept swearing at us and saying our mother had…had…intimate relations with a dog!” This, apparently, was the most mortifying thing to say, ever. “So…so I thought since Germany likes that sort of thing…”
“I am still here!” England announced, as Germany began sputtering. The ground was hard concrete on his knees and they hadn’t even given him a chair or at least hay to sit on. He was not going to complain, though; he was a hardened British soldier. He wouldn’t need to rely on anyone to come save him (though he suspected America was probably off bombing some faraway part of Italy looking for him - or at least he liked to think so.
No, he didn’t.)
“You’re not an ordinary man,” Germany said, turning his attention back to England, as Feliciano whispered things to Romano about Germany that Romano did not want to know about. The Macaroni brothers were pretty pathetic, so Germany had to do his best to be the most intimidating out of the three captors. “Ordinary methods to making you talk won’t work then.”
“I know!” Italy cried, throwing his hand in the air like an enthusiastic student. “There’s an old torture method I know!”
Germany and England turned at him incredulously. “I’m certain that withholding hot water from England so he cannot cook pasta doesn’t count,” Germany said helpfully.
“Not like he could cook pasta to begin with. That would be a waste,” Romano added.
“No, no. It’s really effective! We used to use it with enemies all the time!” Italy was very happy with himself. Not only had he helped capture England, but now he could help contribute to the war effort! “See, it’s like this. First, we hold him down. Then…” He paused for dramatic effect. “…we take off his shoes and tickle his feet.”
Germany was thinking there must be more than that, but by Italy’s enthusiastic arm waving, that was it. Romano was looking interested too. “Yeah, wurst freak!” he chimed in. “I think that’s a good idea too.”
“Tickling.” Germany watched the two brunettes closely. “I am supposed to think that tickling England’s feet is going to make him spill all his war secrets.”
“Yes,” they said in unison.
The knots in the rope were tough, England thought. Alone, he wouldn’t have suspected either Feliciano or Romano to really tie him up, but when they were arguing about the most effective knots and Feliciano was pulling this way and Romano was pulling that way, they managed to orchestrate the most complex knot. Thankfully, they were stupid enough to think it enough, so they had not patted him down. While they were distracted, he would get the knife hidden in his boot.
“I don’t think so,” Germany said.
“Oh come on!” Romano crossed his arms. “Think about it. If we keep going at for hours, he’s going to laugh his sides off. Maybe he’ll even bleed. Do you really need this information now? He’ll crack, I’m sure of it.”
“We used it a long time ago,” Feliciano nodded. “So we know it works.”
“You also used to use horses, and now you use cars. We’re not going to tickle him.” Germany turned back to England, who glared back at him. “I suppose we could always use the waterboard…”
“No!” Feliciano wailed. “Waterboarding always takes the water I want to use to make pasta! I’m useless if I don’t make pasta!”
“Fine. Alright then. England, we can use a blow torch and burn off your p-”
“Germany? We don’t have a blow torch.”
“Italy?” Italy jumped to attention. “Get out of the room, please.”
“But I wanna help…”
“Everyone put their fucking hands where I can see them or I swear I’ll blow the bloody place up!” England had managed to free himself in the span of time they were arguing among themselves and was holding a mean-looking hand grenade. He waved his blade at them. “Open the door and I won’t kill the lot of you.”
“Oh, don’t worry about it,” Feliciano said pleasantly as he put his hands up. “I always try and use those things, but they never work…”
The blast sent the guards running but they were no match for a royally pissed off blonde who took off running into the woods. Feliciano was telling anyone who would listen that England was probably a real threat since he could make the grenady-things he could never use to work. Romano, his hair wild and his frown etched into his face, turned to Germany.
“I told you to use the tickling method.”