Anything can be USUK/UKUS game

The first time Arthur heard the blues was on a visit to Alfred's house during the Great Depression. Alfred was thin and hungry but when he strummed that guitar and sang his heart out about love, life, pain and joy, Arthur couldn't help but watch in awe. That night, he kissed Alfred so sweetly, wanting to share the lad's burdens, if only for the short time he was in the States.

((hurp hurp just took a jazz history class so I had to jump on this one lmao))


SILK

Arthur could not tear his eyes from the blue-eyed healer clothed in silk. As someone who had gotten a good sized wound in his chest from an errant lance, Arthur knew it was only a matter of time before infection set in. He was little more than a dead man, yet he couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to feel the silk uniform of the healer. Surely it would be delicate and soft to the touch, and perhaps easy to remove, and the healer's skin would be even softer than silk and twice as gorgeous.

The young knight left the infirmary under a red cloth the next week, the blue-eyed healer none the wiser about the imagined affair.

(( Wheee AU-tastic angst~ ))

GARGANTUAN

The cake was gargantuan. England had no idea how America had managed to bake something so huge, so fattening and so blue.

"America," he sighed, "You do realise there are only two of us participating in this 'party' of yours?"

America grinned back. "Sure I do," he replied, "So you can have one slice and I'll take the rest!"


Prompt:

FUR

Arthur was never really a fan of clothing with fur on, it itched in all the wrong places and was a bugger to clean if it got dirty. Alfreds bomber jacket on the other hand, it was warm and cozy. He was honestly surpised when Alfred threw the jacket over his shoulders when he eventually got dragged out of the lake he had fallen into, he had seen Alfred yell at people for as much as touching his jacket and now he was bundling Arthur up in it like it was completely normal.
Arthur smiled and clutched the jacket tighter to himself, shivering at the coldness of his wet clothes as he buried his nose into the jackets fur lined collar, it didn't itch like he thought it would instead being suprisingly soft. Maybe he could put up with it this one time.


SKY

((Hurpderp this is from a Hetalia/LoZ crossover idea I'm working on orz))

When the new postman had landed on Windfall Island, Arthur had been sitting near the postbox, watching the sea. The young Rito man had the beautiful tan skin of his people but with shockingly blond hair and eyes as blue as the sky he flew through. It was that moment that Arthur decided he wanted to get to know the island's new postman much better.

((uhhhh so lame /shot. Idk if Rito and humans can interbreed but I don't see why not. xD The Rito as mostly human, so I made Al a half-Rito, half-human dude.. http://zelda.wikia.com/wiki/Rito <-- For non-zelda fans))


SHIPS

This was the first ship Arthur had not captained in a good few decades. His purpose for sailing was different after all, not looting, but the exploration of the new world. Certainly treasures would await. Arthur pictured gold and sapphire. However- such treasures woud be presented to him in a different manner. Yet, that child would be worth more than all the valuables in the world to Arthur.

(( Sorry, I couldn't help but throw in derpy colonial!USUK. Chibimerica is just so darn cute ))

COSMOS

Arthur glared as he snarls at Alfred, "No, you idiot, you can't keep that damn thing!"

The American used his best puppies eyes, "Awww, but come on! He won't cause any trouble, isn't that right, little buddy?"

Before Arthur could yelled or finally gave in, the Space Core spoke up, "I'm sorry, but I can't leave spaaaaaaaaaaaaaaceeeeee."

(Hi. I got off my lazy ass.)

Lightsabers

Things were supposed to be simple, Arthur was a sith, Alfred a jedi. Arthur was tasked to kill Alfred, and surely the other was to fall. It's funny how life takes odd twists and turns. Arthur did not count on Alfred's charm, and Alfred did not count on Arthur's curiosity turning into mercy and perhaps even affection. It was a shame the dark side had other, less patient, agents.

The traitor and the rebel were swiftly dealt with.

(( What? Me writing another tragedy? pshaw! ffft- fine, I'll write an alternate version))

It was time for the final battle, no last chances.Things were supposed to be simple, Arthur was a sith, Alfred a jedi. Arthur was tasked to kill Alfred, and surely the other was to fall. It's funny how life takes odd twists and turns. Arthur did not count on Alfred's charm, and Alfred did not count on Arthur's curiosity turning into mercy and perhaps even affection. Yet- things could not stay as they were; lighsabers were rased and-

"OW! Arthur you're not supposed to actually /hit/ me with the toy lightsaber!"

(( Okey, here's your new prompt. ))

RECOGNITION

All America wanted was recognition, to be his own nation, independant. He never meant to hurt England like this, couldn't even think of a time when he had even seen England look like this. When he turned and left the batllefield with his soldiors he could not help but look back at the figure kneeling and crying in the mud.
"Im sorry England, I never wanted to hurt you like this. I love you..."

((Ffff- I dont usualy do the whole 'America has loved England since the rev!war' thing but the idea would not leave me alone when I read that prompt...))

Labor

"Get to it!" A whip's snap rang out as it lashed against the ground, cowing the nearby slaves into submission. Alfred itched to stand up, stand up against the slave driver and lead the rest into a revolution and overthrow-

But a harsh hand on his arm tugging him back into line disrupted his thoughts and the slave driver had moved on to another unfortunate group of slaves. Arthur sent him a look, one that clearly stated his thoughts about Alfred's intelligence and he grinned back.

Alfred believed that the right time will come where Arthur would fully support him.


((Derp no sense what am I thinking.))


SONG

Alfred enjoyed singing. His song didn't exactly have words, and the melody tended to change every time he began, but it was more than enough to suit his needs.

After all, what more could he want from life, basking upon this rock, his feathery wings held out proudly, singing his song to every sailor who passed by? It was funny how they always jumped into the water and tried to swim to him. Didn't they realize that the current was too strong? And honestly, he was only going to eat them anyway.

But then one day, there was a new ship. This new ship had a new captain, and from the moment their eyes met, Alfred knew that he didn't want to sing. He desperately reached out to his brothers, begging them to keep silent, but they didn't understand. The song poured out over the waves. One by one, the sailors jumped overboard and tried to come closer.

Alfred screamed and cried and tried to keep the captain from doing the same, but it was impossible. No one could resist their song. So when that body washed up on the rock, Alfred cradled it close, gazing into dead green eyes and blue lips and skin, brushing his fingers fondly through wet hair and across thick eyebrows. He sang softly to himself and to his dead man. Even when the skin melted away, and there was nothing left but bleached bone, Alfred kept the captain close, and sang his song louder than ever before.

If he couldn't have the one he wanted, no one could.

(Oh god. My mythology geek is showing.)

STARK

(( skjdalkjdst that was so awesome, Spidey. ))

Matthew may not have been as old as his big brother, or able to see, but he knew there was something wrong about the smooth talking Englishman that had waltzed into their lives and swept Alfred off his feet. Once upon a time, Alfred had been the kindest, most generous man with a passion for painting. The Alfred now was a stark contrast to the painter from before; yes, his skill had improved, but the young man boarded himself up in his room, muttering to himself and only wanting Arthur, Arthur, always Arthur...

It was only after Alfred died, young and sickly (and Arthur disappeared as suddenly as he had appeared), that Matthew learned the true name for the cursed man.

Leanan sídhe

(( PROMPT TIME ))

PRECIPICE

Shivering slightly, Arthur pulled the thick black cloak further around himself as he stared down off of his post on the Wall. It was always cold up there, far too cold, and he wasn't even one of those warm-blooded weaklings from the cities down in the South. No, before he'd been caught, he'd been a proud thief of the North, content even when it began to snow.

Now though... Now he was just another crow, another man stuck up on the awful old wall, guarding the kingdom from ancient things that no one had seen for decades. He believed in them, of course, all of the old stories that the old women had whispered about, but he was a thief, not a knight. What good could he do against them all?

"Hey."

The voice startled Arthur out of his thoughts, and he turned to stare at the blue-eyed man dressed clothes as dark as his own. His mind sparked with recognition. "Alfred," he muttered, wanting nothing more than to spit the name out on the ground. Knights that had been forced aside when the new King came to power had certainly not become friends in any way. "What do you want?"

Alfred only shrugged, a smirk tugging at his lips. "I thought you looked lonely. Besides, I wouldn't want such a good brother as you to do anything stupid."

"Stupid?" Arthur spat. "It's not like I was going to jump. What good would that do me?"

"How should I know how the minds of thieves work?" Alfred snapped back. "I'm not a villain like you. I only came up here because I was ordered."

Arthur wanted to say something back, something awful and vicious, but he'd already been punished twice for fighting and he had no desire to go through it again. He held his tongue. They stood there in tense silence for the rest of their watch, barely looking at one another, and the night seemed to go by even more slowly than before.

It was only as dawn broke, and Arthur turned away to go back to the lift and then down to a somewhat warmer fire and a good sleep, that the light caught Alfred's face just right. Arthur paused midstep. Somehow, even in all black and looking as though he'd rather do anything but stay up there with Arthur, Alfred had looked... handsome. More than handsome.

Well, Arthur thought wryly to himself as they made their way to the lift, at least the part in the vows about not taking anyone to bed only applied to women. Not that he would ever consider having Alfred. Of course not. He wasn't nearly that stupid.

Of course, he was proved wrong about two weeks later, when he awoke to the sound of the bells and found another body sharing the warmth of his bed. He dreaded the discussion that was sure to be ahead.

(... Yeah that ran away with me. OOPS. And I'm reading A Song of Ice and Fire, can you tell?)

TANGLED

Arthur was both relieved and annoyed that he had managed to climb the tall tower. It let him escape from the guards hunting him down, yet it was quite the climb. Who on earth would put a tall tower like this in the middle of nowhere? Either way, he just had to hide himself and the tiara here for a while until the coast wa- WHAM!

Who knew frying pans could be so painful? Especially when wielded by a long haired young man who proclaimed himself a hero (well, if he got out of the tower, that is).

(( I need to start reading ASoIaF, because the show was really good. XD And I really couldn't help the Tangled x-over. That movie is much too cute. ))

ANCIENT

America and England first made love on an ancient tomb. It belonged to an ancient king of an ancient kingdom from an ancient time. They moved on each other with love and lust so ancient, it was high time to eplore and to fulfill their desire.

It was rather strange how they suddenly attacked each other in a heated frenzy once they entered the king's tomb, surrounded by an ocean of glimmering gold and colourful jewels. After three long days of dashing across swamps, thick wood, deadly labyrinths and traps they were finally rewarded with the tomb they had yearned to find. And maybe it was the fact that they both had almost lost their lives on several occasions, one good enough reason, that had made them lose all inhibitions.

One hell of an adventure it was. And the sight of the world's riches, combined with the adrenaline rush, was enough to make them instantly horny. Or perhaps they had been horny for a long time but shiny gold was hotter than a porn video.

So they fucked on an ancient tomb, a modern camera taping the love making.

Just in case they died because of a curse - so that people would know the reason of the nations' sudden death.

OLYMPUS

For better (though more often for worse), England considered himself a son of Ares. Warlike, cruel, and hated by the others, he could certainly draw some parallels between himself and the ancient deity. Least of all would be the fact that the greek gods had been shoved aside and all but forgotten, left to children's tales and crumbling stone (much like his own fairies). America, on the other hand, would pick a vastly different god to match his English lover. Phoebus Apollo, god of light and a patron of oracles. Arthur did bring a certain brightness to Alfred's life, and despite his grumpy persona, Arthur was quite wise. Though Alfred was careful not to mention the presence of Apollo's (and England's) vicious wrath.

(( Er... there's my derpy musings on Greek mythology. fft, I'm no expert, so I'm sorry if there are any mistakes. Anyways, time for my prompt ))

RETURNING

He was finally coming home. His Artie was actually coming home. Alfred felt terrible the day that Arthur left; he couldn't leave the hospital due to injuries he had got when he saved a little girl from getting hit by a car, ending up getting hit instead.

('You idiot, Alfred. Always having to play the hero.' as usual the 'idiot' sounded more like a pet name than an insult.
'But I'm your idiot, right Arthur?'
'Thats right. Git.')

A week later Arthur was called in for his tour, leaving Alfred alone to heal. Alfred was worried sick that Arthur would get hurt while working in the army but now he was returning home, safe.

(I dont know how this came too me ¬.¬)

CANDYFLOSS (or cotton candy for some)

warning: violence

Alfred had instinctively trusted the strange man, after all, the stranger looked like Arthur had the grumpy brit been somehow infused with cotton candy. And well, Alfred really did enjoy both Arthur and cotton candy, so what reason did he have to distrust the cheerful man? When Alfred's arm was hanging off and only attached to his body by a weak piece of skin, and the cotton candy man was giggling like a hyena, the young nation sincerely regretted his decision to trust the man. After all, they did always tell him not to take candy from strangers.

(( ... yes, okay, I know that was supposed to be a cheerful prompt. I recognize that but... I don't regret twisting the prompt. *flees* ))

Madness

The world meeting was once again in chaos with insults were being fling left and right along with occasional punches and food (which wasn't even suppose to be in the meeting). Canada was standing off to the side with, surprisingly England, who chose to stay out of today's conflict due to his growing headache.

England massages his head tiredly, "This is mad-" Canada eyes widen, already knowing what the Brit was going to say, but was unable to stop him in time as the lass syllable "ness" was uttered.

"Madness?" America's voice can be heard loudly, in mid chaos. "THIS IS SSSPPPAARRRTTAAA!"

((haha XD, I think you might be going for a whole dark and serious mood, but I end up making it stupid... sorry... >< ))

FUCK ((can be taken any way you want ^__~))

((Lenny, that's awfully crass of you 8D But what am I doing?))

They tumbled onto the bed, hot mouths and searing hands; ripping, discarding, revealing. This is not the first (nor will it be the last) time they engage in such activities, but frankly they both could care as much as they did the night before and the night after - that is to say, not at all. Both were too absorbed in their own world, in each other's body; the contours and curves, scars and smooth skin, fingertips leaving a burning trail behind. They sighed and they bent, they arched and they gasped, and there reached a point in time where nothing else mattered.

If they did this every day, neither thought that they would mind at all.

((Pointless drabble is pointless >///> it went nowhere))


PERHAPS

Perhaps I should have checked the weather, Alfred thought, back flush against the large trunk of an old oak, cold and practically shivering as Arthur berated him each time some rain breached through the leafy canopy. Well this was bogus. What was supposed to be a pleasant, long awaited and certainly needed, for numerous reasons, picnic lunch date had turned into something out of the most awesome water park ever... Just not so cool! So there were afternoon thunderstorms and their food had been ruined and everything was sopping wet and their date was a bit lacking.

Perhaps he should have checked the weather... But then again, with Arthur so close, hand clasped in his own, huddled together almost laughing at the ridiculousness of this all, maybe it wasn't so bad.

Practice

It was an odd sort of practice that Alfred and Arthur had developed, a habit if you will. Arthur would always rise before him (beds and blankets were always so tempting and comfortable to Alfred). Yet Alfred would stay in bed long after Arthur had his morning tea. Impatient, Arthur would head back up to the bedroom to wake his lover, and Alfred would simply cover his face with the blanket, leaving his feet and toes dreadfully unguarded. Arthur, ever the strategist would take advantage of this so that Alfred would end up uncovering his face, and a kiss would be shared. Sometimes Alfred would rise to spend time with Arthur, other times, Arthur would join in the warm comforts of a fluffy blanket (and a huggy boyfriend).

(( Le gasp, I wrote fluff. What is the world coming to?))

VULNERABLE

The little colony looked so scared and vulnerable, standing in Arthur's doorway and trying to keep from sobbing, that Arthur's heart melted. He hurried over to Alfred and scooped the child up into his arms, softly cooing to him. The toddler latched onto him, mumbling something about the dark and monsters and all Arthur could do was pat his back and tell him that he would protect him. He would always protect him, even if Alfred grew up and left him someday...

(( wat. i don't even idk babubu Ame is too cute for words ))



ROW

((The British or the American version of the word ;D ))

On the night Francis Bonnefoy died, he and his "good friend" (though a better term would be fuck buddy) Arthur Kirkland had another row, for the umpteenth night in a row. It was common knowledge at the bar that the two had loud fights (and louder nightly activities). However, it was not common knowledge that Francis would end the night on the street, blood pooling around him as a car skidded off. Detective Alfred F. Jones (and his much less memorable partner) had been put on the case, and much to Arthur's dismay, the grumpy Brit was forced to stay. Alfred was a damn good detective, and most, if not all, of the clues lead to the conclusion that it had been a simple hit and run accident. But, the steak knife in the trash did throw a wrench in things. However- a restaurant was next door, and it was feasible this was simply a bad steak knife covered in chicken blood, and with the way Arthur Kirkland was smiling at him, well, Alfred had to admit that murder was not on his mind... A heated night later, and the case was written off as a hit and run, while Alfred got himself a good friend.

(( Sorry, this plot was stolen shamelessly from a case in LA Noire, A Marriage Made in Heaven... but er... I have this tendency to write evil!Arthur, I've noticed. XD Oh well~ I'm sure Alfred won't end up stabbed and shoved in front of a car like poor Francis XDDD ))

GUILTY

Alfred felt guilty, he really did. He couldn't help it though when Arthur turned that bright smile on him. So Alfred kept taking whatever food England would give him, whether it be burnt scones, ashen biscuits, or cake that could probably turn into diamonds if given the right pressure and heat. It was worth it though, every second of it when Arthur showed that eager for approval side of his. So Alfred hide his guilt by waiting for Arthur to return to the kitchen and emptying his plate into the potted plants around the room.
Alfred figured Arthur never suspected a thing, at least not until Arthur commented on how his green thumb must have turned into a baking pinkie.

(bluh, sorry that was lame OTL)

Patience