Drabbles: Weiss Kreuz and Hetalia
For lauand:
“What the fuck is this?”
Schuldig opened one eye blearily. “You swore,” he said in vague surprise.
“Fucking right, I fucking swore! Why is this in my fucking bed?”
Schuldig felt around until he came across something alarmingly hairy that snored loudly, and sat up, suddenly afraid they’d been drunk enough to hit on Masafumi the previous night. “Thank Christ,” he said as he focused on the third party in the bed. “It’s just the goat.”
“I’m going to shower now,” Crawford said with brittle dignity. “In bleach.”
Schuldig laid his head on the goat’s flank and fell back asleep.
For gramarye1971:
Southwesterly gale force 8 imminent, the radio said, and Sealand whooped with excitement.
“I quite agree,” England muttered. “Maybe it’ll sweep you off the map. Might I suggest ensuing your entire population drowns? I’d like to be sure you’re gone.”
“You’re such a jerk.” Sealand brightened as the shipping forecast added, Visibility: moderate to good. “Cool! I’ll be able to see ships!”
“Why are you such a child?”
“Cos you won’t recognize me. Can I join the Commonwealth?”
“No.”
“The EU?”
“No.”
“NATO?”
“No.”
Severe gale force 9 veering southwesterly soon, the radio said, in perfect harmony with Sealand’s expression.
For indelicateink:
“Have you ever wanted to join the tormented yet strangely sexy ranks of the undead?” Schuldig said.
“Not really,” Crawford said. Sadly he had reckoned without the unnatural strength vampirism had added to Schuldig’s already unnatural speed and hair colour. “Ack!”
“You’ll feel better once you’ve suckled from my own cooling ichor,” Schuldig crooned.
Crawford stopped dying from sheer force of will to give him a withering look. “Please. As if we need the clunky homoerotic innuendo.”
“Whatever. Death or sexy undeath, Brad?”
“Just tell me you don’t sparkle,” Crawford muttered, drinking from Schuldig’s wrist.
“Ehh, it’s just body glitter.”
“What the fuck is this?”
Schuldig opened one eye blearily. “You swore,” he said in vague surprise.
“Fucking right, I fucking swore! Why is this in my fucking bed?”
Schuldig felt around until he came across something alarmingly hairy that snored loudly, and sat up, suddenly afraid they’d been drunk enough to hit on Masafumi the previous night. “Thank Christ,” he said as he focused on the third party in the bed. “It’s just the goat.”
“I’m going to shower now,” Crawford said with brittle dignity. “In bleach.”
Schuldig laid his head on the goat’s flank and fell back asleep.
For gramarye1971:
Southwesterly gale force 8 imminent, the radio said, and Sealand whooped with excitement.
“I quite agree,” England muttered. “Maybe it’ll sweep you off the map. Might I suggest ensuing your entire population drowns? I’d like to be sure you’re gone.”
“You’re such a jerk.” Sealand brightened as the shipping forecast added, Visibility: moderate to good. “Cool! I’ll be able to see ships!”
“Why are you such a child?”
“Cos you won’t recognize me. Can I join the Commonwealth?”
“No.”
“The EU?”
“No.”
“NATO?”
“No.”
Severe gale force 9 veering southwesterly soon, the radio said, in perfect harmony with Sealand’s expression.
For indelicateink:
“Have you ever wanted to join the tormented yet strangely sexy ranks of the undead?” Schuldig said.
“Not really,” Crawford said. Sadly he had reckoned without the unnatural strength vampirism had added to Schuldig’s already unnatural speed and hair colour. “Ack!”
“You’ll feel better once you’ve suckled from my own cooling ichor,” Schuldig crooned.
Crawford stopped dying from sheer force of will to give him a withering look. “Please. As if we need the clunky homoerotic innuendo.”
“Whatever. Death or sexy undeath, Brad?”
“Just tell me you don’t sparkle,” Crawford muttered, drinking from Schuldig’s wrist.
“Ehh, it’s just body glitter.”