Germany could not tell exactly what the man was. He lived like Nations, but he did not have one. He had his people, but they were spread far and wide. He had his culture, but it was steeped in others, and yet somehow preserved a religion so different. He lived close, somehow, at first coldly, and then slowly he began to talk to Germany, at first a little, then often, then as often as he could. When he’d asked to go to war, to fight beside Germany, Germany had to oblige
( ... )
Amazing characterization...I really could see Germany acting this way, all akward and that last line...wow... Amazing story...if I could say anything its that it was a little too short! haha, but even so, great, great story.
Colonies were desireable companties. France understood that as well as anyone. Everyone wanted someone who they could mold. The only problem was that in Europe countries were more quickly corrupted, without a cute inbetween phase. (Case and point England. France was certain that he had never been cute and innocent, even before France "adopted" him in 1066).
Naturally France was pleased by his latest discovery.
The small boy still hadn't ran away, although he looked nerivous clutching his bear closer to his chest. The deep azure eyes blinked up at him as golden bangs fell across his face.
No wonder Spain loves the 'New world' so much, if this is the kind of thing he finds. France thought kneeling down to be at the child's eyelevel.
This child seemed as uncorruptable as the vast land surrounding them. France wondered if he would always stay like that.
"Hello little one," He smiled. "I'm France."
The child's lip quivered slightly, but he forced himself to look into France's eyes. "My name is Kanada."
Austria often wonders where things went wrong. There are many moments that he can pinpoint and say, "Oh, you oughtn't to have done that Maria-Theresa," or "Sisi, why did your son turn out like that?" but he cannot quite find one in this case. It was alright for a time; he doesn't mind living with Germany and Hitler seems to know what he's doing, but things are changing and his people are getting angry. Austria often as he watches bombs drop on homes and fields of edelweiss, watches his people get rounded up and sorted and be found wanting and he thinks, 'This isn't what ought to happen'. But he can only watch, because his home is now just part of Germany's, and he has no power anymore; he hasn't since Hungary left
( ... )
Austria has known this for months now and so merely upends his shovelful of dirt and worms onto Hitler's boots. Hungary would be proud of him. Hitler backhands him with a trembling hand and sends Austria's glasses flying. "You will acknowledge me as you once welcomed meAustria knows he should stop, but he doesn't. He is crouching on the dirt and his world has been reduced to blurs of brown and green and the silver thread of a wailing violin, swirling around in his mind, but still he says, "I only ever tolerated you
( ... )
Anon, that was beautiful! The last few lines, oh god... Excellent characterization job on Austria, I love how even if he's reduced to doing physical labour he still manages to keep his old composure. Thank you so much for this wonderful fill ♥
As usual for this fail!anon, there is a fail!warning to go with this: despite the fact that author!anon strongly hinted elsewhere that she would like for someone to make the first request above…author!anon did not exactly fill it as requested. So it's not Alfred finding out so much as Arthur finding out years later that Alfred found out. My face has been introduced to my palm so many times in the course of this kinkmeme, my palm is starting to think they're married.Anyhow, on to the
( ... )
the light that shines behind your eyes (1/9)
anonymous
June 3 2009, 22:40:36 UTC
part one
Barcelona, Spain - July 1929The British Empire doesn't know whether it is amusing or pathetic that he's come to Barcelona for the Expo, and yet for the third night in a row he's wound up in one of the city's few legitimate English pubs with various of the Dominions and Crown Colonies for drinking partners. Tonight, for example, he's been sat at a table with New Zealand, Fiji, and West Indies. At this rate, he may as well have stayed in Newcastle Upon Tyne-no, scratch that. If he'd stayed at the North East Coast Exhibition, he would have missed the entertainment of watching America make a happy arse of himself
( ... )
the light that shines behind your eyes (2/9)
anonymous
June 3 2009, 22:41:38 UTC
the light that shines behind your eyes - part twoWhen their mouths part, Matthew-straightening his glasses before wrapping his arms 'round Alfred, to hold him up as much as in the embrace, judging by the way Alfred is slumping against him-looks over Alfred's shoulder and says, "It's all right. He gets like this now and then
( ... )
the light that shines behind your eyes (3/9)
anonymous
June 3 2009, 22:42:38 UTC
the light that shines behind your eyes - part three
It puts Arthur in mind of when they were small, before they were separated. Later it would be Arthur's bed Alfred would turn to, but there had been a time when they were wee things that Alfred would climb into Matthew's bed when he'd had a nightmare or couldn't get warm or simply wanted to.
Instead of lying down and cuddling up with his brother, though, Alfred straddles Matthew's lap and leans; there's the soft clack as the frames of their glasses meet before their mouths find each other. This, of course, is not something from their childhood. Arthur can't be sure which of them is making those mewling sounds, but suspects it is Alfred. How very pretty. Sipping his refreshed drink, Arthur sits in the chair once more
( ... )
Please Don't Cry, We're Designed to Die (1/2)
anonymous
June 5 2009, 02:03:54 UTC
(Okay, this is my first fill, so please go easy on me!)
Lithuania has had, quite honestly, many opportunities to escape. Not good ones, maybe. Nothing watertight, nothing perfect, no.
But chances. Times he could have cut and run, or times when he could have fought back. Lithuania was strong, a long time ago, and even now he can feel that old hot blood running deep and quiet through his veins. He can remember what it felt like, looking Prussia in the eye and sending him home broken. It didn't feel good. He doesn't like violence. But it didn't feel like living with Russia does. Before he started living with Russia, he'd never felt like something to be ownedHe feels like that now, and the part of him that remembers wheat fields is sick with helpless fury. The other part of him -- The part that Russia has -- is scared. Wishes the angry, sick part could go away. Maybe he could be a little happier if Russia owned him completely. If he gave up, he could stop feeling disgusted with himself. He could be proud when Russia said "Good job!"
( ... )
Comments 8689
Germany/Pre!Israel during WWI. The prompt called for angsty trench-sex, though, but it's only mentioned. Sorry, anon. -_-;;
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Amazing story...if I could say anything its that it was a little too short! haha, but even so, great, great story.
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Request asked for first meeting.
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Naturally France was pleased by his latest discovery.
The small boy still hadn't ran away, although he looked nerivous clutching his bear closer to his chest. The deep azure eyes blinked up at him as golden bangs fell across his face.
No wonder Spain loves the 'New world' so much, if this is the kind of thing he finds. France thought kneeling down to be at the child's eyelevel.
This child seemed as uncorruptable as the vast land surrounding them. France wondered if he would always stay like that.
"Hello little one," He smiled. "I'm France."
The child's lip quivered slightly, but he forced himself to look into France's eyes. "My name is Kanada."
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author!anon apologizes for fail!title
Austria often wonders where things went wrong. There are many moments that he can pinpoint and say, "Oh, you oughtn't to have done that Maria-Theresa," or "Sisi, why did your son turn out like that?" but he cannot quite find one in this case. It was alright for a time; he doesn't mind living with Germany and Hitler seems to know what he's doing, but things are changing and his people are getting angry. Austria often as he watches bombs drop on homes and fields of edelweiss, watches his people get rounded up and sorted and be found wanting and he thinks, 'This isn't what ought to happen'. But he can only watch, because his home is now just part of Germany's, and he has no power anymore; he hasn't since Hungary left ( ... )
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I love how you wrote Austria, and how you portrayed this time and place in history.
"He will play again someday. Hitler will never paint."
That is so Roderich. Thank you for reminding me again why I love him.
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As usual for this fail!anon, there is a fail!warning to go with this: despite the fact that author!anon strongly hinted elsewhere that she would like for someone to make the first request above…author!anon did not exactly fill it as requested. So it's not Alfred finding out so much as Arthur finding out years later that Alfred found out. My face has been introduced to my palm so many times in the course of this kinkmeme, my palm is starting to think they're married.Anyhow, on to the ( ... )
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Barcelona, Spain - July 1929The British Empire doesn't know whether it is amusing or pathetic that he's come to Barcelona for the Expo, and yet for the third night in a row he's wound up in one of the city's few legitimate English pubs with various of the Dominions and Crown Colonies for drinking partners. Tonight, for example, he's been sat at a table with New Zealand, Fiji, and West Indies. At this rate, he may as well have stayed in Newcastle Upon Tyne-no, scratch that. If he'd stayed at the North East Coast Exhibition, he would have missed the entertainment of watching America make a happy arse of himself ( ... )
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It puts Arthur in mind of when they were small, before they were separated. Later it would be Arthur's bed Alfred would turn to, but there had been a time when they were wee things that Alfred would climb into Matthew's bed when he'd had a nightmare or couldn't get warm or simply wanted to.
Instead of lying down and cuddling up with his brother, though, Alfred straddles Matthew's lap and leans; there's the soft clack as the frames of their glasses meet before their mouths find each other. This, of course, is not something from their childhood. Arthur can't be sure which of them is making those mewling sounds, but suspects it is Alfred. How very pretty. Sipping his refreshed drink, Arthur sits in the chair once more ( ... )
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Liet finally defeating Russia. :D
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Lithuania has had, quite honestly, many opportunities to escape. Not good ones, maybe. Nothing watertight, nothing perfect, no.
But chances. Times he could have cut and run, or times when he could have fought back. Lithuania was strong, a long time ago, and even now he can feel that old hot blood running deep and quiet through his veins. He can remember what it felt like, looking Prussia in the eye and sending him home broken. It didn't feel good. He doesn't like violence. But it didn't feel like living with Russia does. Before he started living with Russia, he'd never felt like something to be ownedHe feels like that now, and the part of him that remembers wheat fields is sick with helpless fury. The other part of him -- The part that Russia has -- is scared. Wishes the angry, sick part could go away. Maybe he could be a little happier if Russia owned him completely. If he gave up, he could stop feeling disgusted with himself. He could be proud when Russia said "Good job!" ( ... )
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