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guardians_song) wrote2013-11-28 06:02 pm
guardians_song) wrote2013-11-28 06:02 pm
Entry tags:
Francis and the Dread Gazebo (Human!AU, PG-13, Crack, Fr/Gazebo)
Title: Francis and the Dread Gazebo
Author/Artist: Guardian's Song
Fandom: Axis Powers Hetalia (Human!AU)
Character(s) or Pairing(s): Francis Bonnefoy/Gazebo
Rating: PG-13
Warning(s): N/A
Disclaimer: This fill is based HEAVILY upon http://www.netfunny.com/rhf/jokes/98/Jul/g
This fill is a de-anon from the Kink Meme.
Prompt: France/Gazebo.
Francis making out with a gazebo. Yes. WITH a gazebo. Not on.
It was a dark and moldy basement. Around a card table gone to seed, three players huddled around their drinks and their dice, their GM constantly checking his antique wristwatch and watching the endless minutes tick away until he could declare the session over. Matthew, damn him, was not quite drunk enough that it could be finished early and all of them could be hustled out before they thought to check the time.
Sighing, the GM cleared his throat and turned back to the players. "You see a well groomed garden. In the middle, on a small hill, you see a gazebo."
"Is it an attractive gazebo?" Francis asked, perking up for the first time in the last half-hour. A silly smile covered his handsome face as he sat up, swaying slightly from side to side.
Speechless, the GM stared at him with an open mouth, unable to determine just what was going through his perverse French head. "I... I suppose so, why not." I thought this was Dungeons & Dragons, not Houses & Gardens.
"How far away is it?" Alfred asked, a strange light in his eyes as he picked up his dice and began to jiggle them in his hand. (His brother ducked under the table and retrieved them when he drunkenly jiggled them straight out of his grip.)
"50 feet," the GM said, relieved at the sane question.
"Is it alone?" Francis asked eagerly.
"I... Well, I didn't mention any others, now did I?"
"I use my sword to Detect Good on it," Alfred said intently, raising an imaginary blade high and waving it around. Matthew ducked under his swaying arm.
"Good? It's not good, Alfred - it's a bloody gazebo!"
"It is anguished by its loneliness!" Francis declared, throwing out his arms (and making it Alfred's turn to duck). "I shall heal its embittered, cynical soul, and turn it back to the light!"
Perhaps the GM had had a minor stroke. He didn't seem to be able to close his mouth.
"I sprint towards it," Francis continued, sliding his Rogue's figurine across the board, "crying out that we shall make tender, tender love on the spot!"
Could strokes cause auditory hallucinations?
"Francis, darn it, you have to roll for initiative!" Alfred shouted, grabbing his Paladin figurine and waving it about. Francis waved him off and gave a perfunctory roll of the dice.
"23. Is that sufficient?"
"It's... a bloody... gazebo," the GM whispered in disbelief. Well, perhaps he hadn't gone utterly mad - Matthew was staring at the two other players in horror.
"Um, Francis - Al - you do know a gazebo is -"
"Silence! I will not let your bigotry prejudice our love. I tell you, this lovely gazebo is just misunderstood," Francis said, dismissively waving a hand at Matthew. "And, Alfred, I take it that my roll was sufficient, since our fine GM has not interrupted us."
'Their fine GM' just refused to believe he was having this conversation. He'd thought he'd hit the nadir of his D&D career when Ivan and Yao immediately entered negotiations with the Voldemort substitute in his Harry Potter-inspired campaign because obviously his revolutionary reputation had just been slandered by that bourgeois pig Dunbledure. But at least that had at least worked by some twisted rule of in-universe logic.
"Having arrived by my love's side," Francis continued, placing his figurine on a square adjacent to that of the gazebo, "I press my lips delicately to its cheek -"
"A gazebo doesn't have a cheek."
Francis frowned, quirking an eyebrow. "It doesn't? Well, then, I breathe in its ear -"
"It doesn't have an ear, either."
"What is this fell beast?" Alfred asked in horror, not noticing that Matthew had buried his face in his crossed arms on top of the corner of the game mat and was now quietly weeping. "No cheek, no ear - can I at least try sniping its legs?"
"IT'S - A BLOODY - GAZEBO!"
Francis furrowed his brow, by now looking very perturbed. "Ah - well - love knows no species, I suppose. What does it have?"
"A box of one dozen starving, crazed weasels," Matthew murmured from the table, but neither Francis nor Alfred took heed of him.
"Well, er," the GM said, half-tempted to go with Matthew's answer, "it has a knob, I -"
"What an interesting euphemism!" Francis leered, instantly regaining all his enthusiasm. "How large is it?"
The basement was so silent, one could hear the roaches skittering. The GM heard a strangled, rasping sound that, after a moment, he determined was coming from his own throat. "How - large - is -"
"Ah, well, one must not discriminate," Francis said with a Gallic shrug. "After all, it is not size, but what you do with it, no?" He rested his chin on one hand as he looked down at the game mat. "I drop to my knees and gaze reverently at the gazebo's 'knob', then look up at the gazebo, smiling, and ask for its consent before I begin to bring it pleasure beyond its wildest dreams. Ah - since it's such a lonely, lost gazebo, I think I should take 20 on my Diplomacy check. Is that all right, Arthur?"
After a full minute of speechlessness, Francis took his silence as consent. "Very well, then - and I pass the check, I take it? Excellent. Snaking my tongue out, I begin to lovingly lick the gazebo's -"
"Ahem? Francis? Some of us have turns, too, you know," Alfred said, tapping his Paladin's figurine on the board.
"Love is a free action," Francis said dismissively, then continued graphically describing what he was doing to the gazebo's doorknob. Had his brain not already been so broken, the GM would have made a biting comment about Francis's Rogue inventing a whole new way of lockpicking.
"Yeah, right! And I think what you're doing should require at least one Grapple check!" Alfred scowled, then began to shake his dice in his hand. "While Francis is distracting it, I shoot it with my bow! Roll to hit -" The dice went flying, one bouncing off the GM's head before careening into the darkness - not that the sozzled Alfred noticed. "What happened?"
"There is now a gazebo with an arrow sticking out of it and Francis sucking its knob," the GM said through gritted teeth, ignoring Francis's squawk about Alfred ambushing an innocent gazebo in the act of coitus. Matthew let out a hysterical sob.
"...Wasn't it wounded?" Alfred said after a long pause, looking baffled. Meanwhile, Francis twittered on about how this wound was symbolic of the wound in the gazebo's poor, abandoned heart.
"OF COURSE NOT, YOU BLOODY DUNDERHEAD! IT'S A GAZEBO!"
"But that was a +3 arrow! And I'm a hero!" Alfred whimpered as the GM stood up from the table, vision going hazy with rage.
"It's a gazebo, Alfred, a GAZEBO! If you really want to try to destroy it, you could try to chop it with an axe, I suppose, or you could try to burn it, but I can't fathom why anybody would even try - It's a FUCKING GAZEBO!"
"I would call it a lovemaking gazebo, but all you Englishmen are so coarse," Francis said, displaying his best supercilious smile.
"Don't. Even. Talk to me any more, you twisted French pervert," the GM said. God, what he would give for a nice, stiff drink right now. Why did only his players have to be drunkards?
"I... er... I run away," Alfred said uncertainly, having neither an axe nor any source of fire.
"It's too late!" the GM yelled. "The enraged gazebo catches you and eats you! And squashes that fucking frog on its way!"
"What?!" Francis cried out. "It can't have objected to my sensitive and tender lovemaking! Have you seen my Dexterity stat? Or my Charisma stat? Even an intimate experience with its own species could not have been better!"
"I - Maybe I'll roll up a fire-using mage to avenge my Paladin -" Alfred stammered, ashen-faced, as he began scrounging for his dice. Matthew gave a tired laugh, then slowly sat upright, shaking his head.
"Alfred. Francis. Are you telling me you really have no idea what a gazebo is?"
They both looked at him, their expressions perplexed. "Ah..." Francis began at the same time that Alfred said, "No, what?"
And as Matthew began his deadpan, completely serious explanation, Arthur Kirkland burst into a flurry of mad, broken laughter.
Author/Artist: Guardian's Song
Fandom: Axis Powers Hetalia (Human!AU)
Character(s) or Pairing(s): Francis Bonnefoy/Gazebo
Rating: PG-13
Warning(s): N/A
Disclaimer: This fill is based HEAVILY upon http://www.netfunny.com/rhf/jokes/98/Jul/g
This fill is a de-anon from the Kink Meme.
Prompt: France/Gazebo.
Francis making out with a gazebo. Yes. WITH a gazebo. Not on.
It was a dark and moldy basement. Around a card table gone to seed, three players huddled around their drinks and their dice, their GM constantly checking his antique wristwatch and watching the endless minutes tick away until he could declare the session over. Matthew, damn him, was not quite drunk enough that it could be finished early and all of them could be hustled out before they thought to check the time.
Sighing, the GM cleared his throat and turned back to the players. "You see a well groomed garden. In the middle, on a small hill, you see a gazebo."
"Is it an attractive gazebo?" Francis asked, perking up for the first time in the last half-hour. A silly smile covered his handsome face as he sat up, swaying slightly from side to side.
Speechless, the GM stared at him with an open mouth, unable to determine just what was going through his perverse French head. "I... I suppose so, why not." I thought this was Dungeons & Dragons, not Houses & Gardens.
"How far away is it?" Alfred asked, a strange light in his eyes as he picked up his dice and began to jiggle them in his hand. (His brother ducked under the table and retrieved them when he drunkenly jiggled them straight out of his grip.)
"50 feet," the GM said, relieved at the sane question.
"Is it alone?" Francis asked eagerly.
"I... Well, I didn't mention any others, now did I?"
"I use my sword to Detect Good on it," Alfred said intently, raising an imaginary blade high and waving it around. Matthew ducked under his swaying arm.
"Good? It's not good, Alfred - it's a bloody gazebo!"
"It is anguished by its loneliness!" Francis declared, throwing out his arms (and making it Alfred's turn to duck). "I shall heal its embittered, cynical soul, and turn it back to the light!"
Perhaps the GM had had a minor stroke. He didn't seem to be able to close his mouth.
"I sprint towards it," Francis continued, sliding his Rogue's figurine across the board, "crying out that we shall make tender, tender love on the spot!"
Could strokes cause auditory hallucinations?
"Francis, darn it, you have to roll for initiative!" Alfred shouted, grabbing his Paladin figurine and waving it about. Francis waved him off and gave a perfunctory roll of the dice.
"23. Is that sufficient?"
"It's... a bloody... gazebo," the GM whispered in disbelief. Well, perhaps he hadn't gone utterly mad - Matthew was staring at the two other players in horror.
"Um, Francis - Al - you do know a gazebo is -"
"Silence! I will not let your bigotry prejudice our love. I tell you, this lovely gazebo is just misunderstood," Francis said, dismissively waving a hand at Matthew. "And, Alfred, I take it that my roll was sufficient, since our fine GM has not interrupted us."
'Their fine GM' just refused to believe he was having this conversation. He'd thought he'd hit the nadir of his D&D career when Ivan and Yao immediately entered negotiations with the Voldemort substitute in his Harry Potter-inspired campaign because obviously his revolutionary reputation had just been slandered by that bourgeois pig Dunbledure. But at least that had at least worked by some twisted rule of in-universe logic.
"Having arrived by my love's side," Francis continued, placing his figurine on a square adjacent to that of the gazebo, "I press my lips delicately to its cheek -"
"A gazebo doesn't have a cheek."
Francis frowned, quirking an eyebrow. "It doesn't? Well, then, I breathe in its ear -"
"It doesn't have an ear, either."
"What is this fell beast?" Alfred asked in horror, not noticing that Matthew had buried his face in his crossed arms on top of the corner of the game mat and was now quietly weeping. "No cheek, no ear - can I at least try sniping its legs?"
"IT'S - A BLOODY - GAZEBO!"
Francis furrowed his brow, by now looking very perturbed. "Ah - well - love knows no species, I suppose. What does it have?"
"A box of one dozen starving, crazed weasels," Matthew murmured from the table, but neither Francis nor Alfred took heed of him.
"Well, er," the GM said, half-tempted to go with Matthew's answer, "it has a knob, I -"
"What an interesting euphemism!" Francis leered, instantly regaining all his enthusiasm. "How large is it?"
The basement was so silent, one could hear the roaches skittering. The GM heard a strangled, rasping sound that, after a moment, he determined was coming from his own throat. "How - large - is -"
"Ah, well, one must not discriminate," Francis said with a Gallic shrug. "After all, it is not size, but what you do with it, no?" He rested his chin on one hand as he looked down at the game mat. "I drop to my knees and gaze reverently at the gazebo's 'knob', then look up at the gazebo, smiling, and ask for its consent before I begin to bring it pleasure beyond its wildest dreams. Ah - since it's such a lonely, lost gazebo, I think I should take 20 on my Diplomacy check. Is that all right, Arthur?"
After a full minute of speechlessness, Francis took his silence as consent. "Very well, then - and I pass the check, I take it? Excellent. Snaking my tongue out, I begin to lovingly lick the gazebo's -"
"Ahem? Francis? Some of us have turns, too, you know," Alfred said, tapping his Paladin's figurine on the board.
"Love is a free action," Francis said dismissively, then continued graphically describing what he was doing to the gazebo's doorknob. Had his brain not already been so broken, the GM would have made a biting comment about Francis's Rogue inventing a whole new way of lockpicking.
"Yeah, right! And I think what you're doing should require at least one Grapple check!" Alfred scowled, then began to shake his dice in his hand. "While Francis is distracting it, I shoot it with my bow! Roll to hit -" The dice went flying, one bouncing off the GM's head before careening into the darkness - not that the sozzled Alfred noticed. "What happened?"
"There is now a gazebo with an arrow sticking out of it and Francis sucking its knob," the GM said through gritted teeth, ignoring Francis's squawk about Alfred ambushing an innocent gazebo in the act of coitus. Matthew let out a hysterical sob.
"...Wasn't it wounded?" Alfred said after a long pause, looking baffled. Meanwhile, Francis twittered on about how this wound was symbolic of the wound in the gazebo's poor, abandoned heart.
"OF COURSE NOT, YOU BLOODY DUNDERHEAD! IT'S A GAZEBO!"
"But that was a +3 arrow! And I'm a hero!" Alfred whimpered as the GM stood up from the table, vision going hazy with rage.
"It's a gazebo, Alfred, a GAZEBO! If you really want to try to destroy it, you could try to chop it with an axe, I suppose, or you could try to burn it, but I can't fathom why anybody would even try - It's a FUCKING GAZEBO!"
"I would call it a lovemaking gazebo, but all you Englishmen are so coarse," Francis said, displaying his best supercilious smile.
"Don't. Even. Talk to me any more, you twisted French pervert," the GM said. God, what he would give for a nice, stiff drink right now. Why did only his players have to be drunkards?
"I... er... I run away," Alfred said uncertainly, having neither an axe nor any source of fire.
"It's too late!" the GM yelled. "The enraged gazebo catches you and eats you! And squashes that fucking frog on its way!"
"What?!" Francis cried out. "It can't have objected to my sensitive and tender lovemaking! Have you seen my Dexterity stat? Or my Charisma stat? Even an intimate experience with its own species could not have been better!"
"I - Maybe I'll roll up a fire-using mage to avenge my Paladin -" Alfred stammered, ashen-faced, as he began scrounging for his dice. Matthew gave a tired laugh, then slowly sat upright, shaking his head.
"Alfred. Francis. Are you telling me you really have no idea what a gazebo is?"
They both looked at him, their expressions perplexed. "Ah..." Francis began at the same time that Alfred said, "No, what?"
And as Matthew began his deadpan, completely serious explanation, Arthur Kirkland burst into a flurry of mad, broken laughter.