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AU!Hetalia: Medieval and magical.
It would be over an hour before Matthew and Alfred were finally summoned to the main study. It was a room just like the rest, old-fashioned and filled with paintings and knickknacks. Sometimes Alfred wondered just how long that Arthur had been collecting them all, and if there was someone who had collected before him. Arthur and Francis sat on the couch across from the one the two students currently resided on. Unlike Al and Matt who sat next to one another, Arthur and Francis sat with the middle cushion separating them. Francis sat back with one arm over the arm of the couch, a glass of red wine cradled in his right hand. Arthur on the other hand had his arms cross, a strained expression on his face. They sat in silence for a while, Matt and Al growing more uncomfortable by the moment.
The air was thick the tension, and only Francis seemed relaxed, but then that could be the fact that the wine bottle in front of him was alrea
Neinescape: Desperate MethodsUSUK: Dr. Hero and Patient Iggy. Written for Arkham-Insanity's hospital AU Neinescape.
It was a little dark where Arthur was, but that was alright. The white sheet could be seen through enough to know when the coat was clear. Problem was he kept almost being revealed by one of his friends. He loved them most days, but they more often got him into trouble. He appreciated being let out of his restrains. His lime-green bunny with wings kept peeking out from under the sheet, causing him to grab its fluffy tail.
"Stop that, Godfried! You're going to get us caught!" He whispered harshly. But Alice tugged on the patient's ear. He looked back to the glowing fairy in dismay. "What is it?" He asked. He then heard the click of a door opening, and he glanced towards it. He was cramped huddling under the hospital gurney and everything was fuzzy through the sheet, but he recognized the voice that went with the legs stepping out of the room.
"No no, I'll come right down. He couldn't have gotten f
An Obvious Spanking*Read the description below, there is a picture/drawing from a fellow deviantART member that goes along with the short story.*
France and England sat at the world meeting and were jabbering on and off with each other in little spats. It had been this way for as long as Arthur could remember. Since the early days, when they were both fighting against one another, the Brit just did not want to deal with the French nations presence. Normally Arthur would do everything in his power to find a different seat, but the French nation always seemed to want to sit next to him. He shook his head with a sigh.
Germany had the table, and was talking. No one usually talked out of turn when he had the seat, and England looked over while rolling his eyes. He grabbed up his cup of tea, and sipped from it. France continued talking, but quietly.
"Come on Arthur come over, and I guarantee 'ou will 'ave a delightful time. My maids, 'zey are 'ze definition of satisfaction. Hoh hoh naughty lit
Untitled_GerItaWarning: Don't know if this needs one, but consensual d/s.
Ludwig had been having a rough week. Of course the economy was tough for everyone right now but with the constant meetings, paperwork, consultants, inspections, and worst of all foreign relations to take care of, he was about ready to cave in. The German was a workaholic as it was already, but this was really pushing it. Even Gilbert had kept his distance. Ludwig's older brother could only do so much to actually help, as he had been out of politics and the like for quite some time. Regarded as somewhat of an extra now a days, the Prussian usually left everything up to Ludwig. The best thing that he could do was to give Ludwig his space, and so lately Gilbert had been staying elsewhere. This left the house a kind of quiet sanctuary, where even if Ludwig worked he could at least find peace and quiet.
That's what he was looking forward to today. Stepping into the house, Ludwig set his briefcase beside the door and dropped his keys
Alfred spanks ArthurYou would think Arthur would have known by now what happens when you get drunk in front of Alfred.
Prompt: Iggy got drunk and began blaming America for senseless stuff.
Written for CakeHeater. ^^
Characters belong to Hidekaz Himaruya.
*Warning* this story contains spanking of a man and some British slur. So don't like, don't read. Just press that back button and never return. * Evil laugh*
Switches from three to first person point of view (I'll tell you when it does.)
Arthur scowled at the bartender, it was Friday night and he really needed a drink. He had just spent the evening with Francis, which was worse than any war he had ever been in. And he had been in A LOT of wars.
But back to the bloody bartender, Arthur had just had his third pint of beer when the man had cut him off.
"I'm terribly sorry sir, but your friend Alfred has told me not to let you have more than three." He said timidly.
Arthur, who was ALREADY d
Cold Feet...Hot Bottom*Read the description below if you are confused, there is a picture/drawing from a fellow deviantART member that goes along with the short story.*
It was late one hot Summer night. Lovino Vargas was standing in the kitchen. Sporting a green tank top, and his favorite tomato print boxers, the only thing he could do was keep cool with ice cold water. Drinking down the last of his beverage, he looked over to his brother Feliciano. He scoffed slightly to himself. His brother, god bless his heart was not the brightest bulb out there, but still he tried. Lovino did everything in his power to watch over the younger Vargas brother, and that even meant laying down the law, which thankfully previously being under Germany's rule, Feliciano usually behaved himself.
The younger Vargas brother was sitting on the couch watching a movie. He was laughing, pointing to the screen, and would occasionally look over at his brother.
"Romano come here a quick minute. You need to see thi
SweepAs soon as he stepped into the open field, he slung the minesweeper from his shoulder and pointed its nose to the ground. It was old, worn and heavy, and old and rough, calloused and breaking, and old. The metal between his hands was cold and chilled his fingers. If he was not careful he could step on the very mines he was trying to find. They would have to pick up the pieces of his body and to send the tags home where his wife would cry and hold his son and daughter close with nothing to show them of their father but a piece of metal engraved with "Ajeet Singh".
One sweep, than another.
This war had taught him to never trust open spaces. Open spaces were where the mines were planted, where Prets lay in wait. France was green and damp just like the uniform he wore. It had been days since he was separated from his unit, and now the Allies were breathing on his neck, searching for POW’s, searching for the enemy of which he was one. &
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