Nation A/Nation B - Behind Closed Doors
anonymous
March 8 2011, 08:50:08 UTC
Following an explosive argument between Nation A and Nation B, Nation A ends up in a horrific accident that leaves his/her physical body in a coma. Much to their dismay, they discover that their consciousness has attached itself to Nation B. Stuck as an unseen audience, Nation A gets a firsthand look into secret life of Nation B and discovers that Nation B is completely different person when he/she doesn’t know anyone was watching.
Although the choice is ultimately yours, this OP would like see such Nation A/Nation B pairings as Germany/South Italy, America/Canada, Greece/Turkey, Norway/Denmark, and for the sake of crack, England/Sealand.
Bonus: Doesn’t have to contain smut to make me happy, but if so, Nation A must experience a moment of voyeurism and be horrified at the fact that it turns him/her on!
reCAPTCHA says "FRANCIS dichg" - does that mean a higher power wants France included too?:)
Behind Closed Doors [interlude]
anonymous
May 2 2011, 07:55:02 UTC
Okay, I will give you all some fair warning when I say that Norway and Denmark are going to be very OOC. The prompt itself was an invitation to walk on the wild side, so it’s defiantly AU. Please bare with me:)
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Before light and consciousness returned, darkness surrounded him on both sides. Pale mists swirled around his feet nipping like dogs at his heels and whispered voices called out to him from beyond the veil; urging him to wake.
Come child
You haven’t much time
He could hear the sound of a harbour in early morning; the gull’s cry and the winds as they chased each other amongsts the sails and flags.
Hurry!
You must go.
You must stop the light from going out!
What light? There was no light of any kind here, but he had no voice of his own in which to disagree.
Re: Behind Closed Doors [5/?]
anonymous
May 2 2011, 07:59:49 UTC
Norway awoke was a strangled gasp, flailing as he was slammed back into the waking with the same force of the vehicle that had separated his conscious mind from his body only a few sort days before.
He lay still for several minutes, struggling to catch his breath and fight off the nauseating sensation of motion sickness. When movement no long ailed him, the Norwegian rolled over and he found himself staring at another different yet familiar ceiling.
With a disgruntled groan, Norway hefted himself up onto his elbows and took in the contents of the kitchen that belonged to Denmark’s København apartment. It looked no different from the last time he had been there (how long ago was that?) and there were still pictures of the five of them on the fridge (damn, Sweden looked angry in the one…) as well as the few crayon drawings from Sealand’s scrapbook.
The apartment itself was too quite though. Norway liked to believe that he knew Denmark well enough to know that any house of his was almost always alive with music.
Behind Closed Doors [6/?]
anonymous
May 2 2011, 08:04:03 UTC
It wasn’t possible… it just wasn’t possible!
His horrified suspicions were confirmed when the blond, razor in hand, began rolling up the sleeves of his shirt.
Scars, some new and some fading marred the pale flesh all the way up to the Dane’s elbow.
He had been doing this for years.
Norway quaked in denial next to his friend. ‘No, no, no… Tell me you haven’t been doing this to yourself… tell me I’m imagining this.’
Denmark’s only reply was to scowl with distaste and scrub at the dried blood with the hem of his shirt.
“Hmm… you’re getting kind of dull,” he mused aloud as he tested the sharpness with his thumb. “I’m going to have to sharpen you soon.”
As the panic finally began to set in, Norway grabbed at Denmark’s shoulders to shake some sense into him - to beat the shit out of him, anything - but his hands only passed through the other man like that of a ghost’s.
‘Stop!’ Uable to touch and utterly helpless, he could do nothing as Denmark began to drag the sharp edge of the blade across his inner arm at the elbow
( ... )
Thanks!:) I actually started writing the majority of prts 5 and 6 first before I started writing the beginning - the angst called to me and needed to feed that beast!
A!A has returned!
anonymous
March 5 2012, 07:30:27 UTC
Oh God, I am so sorry! I never meant to leave you guys hanging like that. It was never my intention to abandon this story and since I know excuses don't mean much, I won’t bother giving any. I just hope you can forgive me for taking so long:’(
Behind Closed Doors [7/?]
anonymous
March 5 2012, 07:47:33 UTC
“Norge?”
Denmark’s head whipped up unexpectedly, but the sudden kneejerk movement caused him to bring the blade down a little too hard; the sharp edge cutting easily through flesh, muscle, tendon and vein.
He dropped the knife, crying out in shock.
“Shit!” he hissed, grabbing blindly for the first aid kit. "Shit, shit, shit!"
The wound was deep; far deeper then he’d ever gone before. Blood was gushing down his arm in rivers; seeping through the clumsy fingers that tried desperately to staunch the flow.
This wasn’t supposed to happen.Bloody fingers left crimson fingerprints on everything he touched, but Denmark failed to notice as he slapped an already solid gauze pad on his wrist and began binding it sloppily with the slippery bandages; fashioning a knot to keep it all in place
( ... )
Although the choice is ultimately yours, this OP would like see such Nation A/Nation B pairings as Germany/South Italy, America/Canada, Greece/Turkey, Norway/Denmark, and for the sake of crack, England/Sealand.
Bonus: Doesn’t have to contain smut to make me happy, but if so, Nation A must experience a moment of voyeurism and be horrified at the fact that it turns him/her on!
reCAPTCHA says "FRANCIS dichg" - does that mean a higher power wants France included too?:)
Reply
-------------------------------------------------
Before light and consciousness returned, darkness surrounded him on both sides. Pale mists swirled around his feet nipping like dogs at his heels and whispered voices called out to him from beyond the veil; urging him to wake.
Come child
You haven’t much time
He could hear the sound of a harbour in early morning; the gull’s cry and the winds as they chased each other amongsts the sails and flags.
Hurry!
You must go.
You must stop the light from going out!
What light? There was no light of any kind here, but he had no voice of his own in which to disagree.
Go.
Reply
He lay still for several minutes, struggling to catch his breath and fight off the nauseating sensation of motion sickness. When movement no long ailed him, the Norwegian rolled over and he found himself staring at another different yet familiar ceiling.
With a disgruntled groan, Norway hefted himself up onto his elbows and took in the contents of the kitchen that belonged to Denmark’s København apartment. It looked no different from the last time he had been there (how long ago was that?) and there were still pictures of the five of them on the fridge (damn, Sweden looked angry in the one…) as well as the few crayon drawings from Sealand’s scrapbook.
The apartment itself was too quite though. Norway liked to believe that he knew Denmark well enough to know that any house of his was almost always alive with music.
Why am here? He ( ... )
Reply
His horrified suspicions were confirmed when the blond, razor in hand, began rolling up the sleeves of his shirt.
Scars, some new and some fading marred the pale flesh all the way up to the Dane’s elbow.
He had been doing this for years.
Norway quaked in denial next to his friend. ‘No, no, no… Tell me you haven’t been doing this to yourself… tell me I’m imagining this.’
Denmark’s only reply was to scowl with distaste and scrub at the dried blood with the hem of his shirt.
“Hmm… you’re getting kind of dull,” he mused aloud as he tested the sharpness with his thumb. “I’m going to have to sharpen you soon.”
As the panic finally began to set in, Norway grabbed at Denmark’s shoulders to shake some sense into him - to beat the shit out of him, anything - but his hands only passed through the other man like that of a ghost’s.
‘Stop!’ Uable to touch and utterly helpless, he could do nothing as Denmark began to drag the sharp edge of the blade across his inner arm at the elbow ( ... )
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;A;
PLEASE..........DON'T ABANDON THIS. IT'S REALLY GOOD ;A; ;A;
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Denmark’s head whipped up unexpectedly, but the sudden kneejerk movement caused him to bring the blade down a little too hard; the sharp edge cutting easily through flesh, muscle, tendon and vein.
He dropped the knife, crying out in shock.
“Shit!” he hissed, grabbing blindly for the first aid kit. "Shit, shit, shit!"
The wound was deep; far deeper then he’d ever gone before. Blood was gushing down his arm in rivers; seeping through the clumsy fingers that tried desperately to staunch the flow.
This wasn’t supposed to happen.Bloody fingers left crimson fingerprints on everything he touched, but Denmark failed to notice as he slapped an already solid gauze pad on his wrist and began binding it sloppily with the slippery bandages; fashioning a knot to keep it all in place ( ... )
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