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"Go to Hell!" - One Shot


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Hi everyone! I was hoping to originally post this in the drabble area, but unfortunately the word count just seemed a bit too long to appropriately call this a "drabble".(552 words) I've never posted original fiction here before, and quite frankly, I'm a little bit nervous! :laugh: There is a bit of swearing in this story, as one of my characters is quite vulgar, so if any moderators think it's too much please feel free to move it to the adult board! (I'm sorry in advance if that's the case, but I figured I would be okay, which is why I'm going ahead and posting it here.) 

For a little bit of backstory on this, I was googling around, as one does, and stumbled upon a kind of old way the French used to say "bless you" and I immediately wanted to write something revolving around that. (My apologies to any French members if I completely butchered this- I did my best!) Anyway, what I read was that after one sneeze they'd say 'to your wishes', after two it's 'to your loves', three and it's 'may they last forever' and if there's a fourth it's followed with a prompt 'go to hell!" :razz:

Here are brief character descriptions before I just get on with the story:

Peter – Irish. Guitar player. Glasses. Plugs. Black hair usually in a fauxhawk. Small goatee. Tattoos. Piercings. Speaks his mind, is very vulgar. Average/Tall height. Occasionally calls Maurice “Murry-rice” to get on his nerves. Smoker. Green eyes.

Maurice – Born in Paris, France. Moved to Ireland at a young age, so has an Irish accent, but can speak fluent French w/ French accent when need be. Singer. Usually wears hair slicked back, colour is honey blonde. Strong jaw. Taller. Brown eyes.

Ok! On with the story.


“Want to see a cool trick, Murry-rice?” Peter shouted, hopping over the back of the couch and landing hard beside Maurice. Maurice flinched slightly, “A…trick?” He questioned, closing his book.

“Aye!” Peter pulled a single cigarette and lighter from his pocket. Putting the butt of the cigarette between his lips he cracked the lighter once, twice, three times before it flickered on. He puffed the cigarette until the end began to glow, “Check this out.”

Peter took a long, hard drag of his cigarette and wiggled his eyebrows at Maurice. He held the smoke in his lungs for a moment before exhaling forcefully through his nose, smoke shooting out of his nostrils in thick billows, making him resemble something similar to a dragon.

Maurice rolled his eyes, turning his attention back to his book, “You think I’ve never seen that before?” He chuckled, waiting to hear Peter’s inevitable retort. When there was no immediate response (silence was an odd thing for Peter) Maurice got slightly confused, “What, now you’re not going to--” He looked up at Peter and cut himself off.


Peter sat very still, breathing shallow, his nose twitched and his eyes fluttered.


Peter held up a finger, his breath hitching again, “Hiiuh- G...going ta- hhII’KSHH’uh!”

“À tes souhaits.” Maurice smirked, amused.

Peter sniffed hard, eyes streaming, “What the hell does that—hhA’KSSHh!” Peter sneezed again suddenly, pitching forward into an open palm, “Christ.”

“À tes amours.” Maurice furrowed his brow, “Need a tissue?”

“No I don’t bloody need a – hhaah a tissue hha’KSSH’Oo!” Peter pitched forward again into his awaiting hands, his glasses slipping down his nose from the force, “For fecks sake…” He sniffed hard.

“Qu’elles durent toujours.” Maurice scooting a little closer to Peter, placing a hand on his back, “Your trick’s backfired, hmm?”

“Feck off…hhuh—” Peter scrubbed his nose aggressively until the tickle subsided, “Jesus fecking Christ…”

“You alright?” Maurice asked, eyeing Peter as he snuffled and rubbed his nose pathetically.

“…Did it at least look cool?” Peter asked with a small chuckle.

“I mean, up until you started sneezing everywhere it was…interesting. Here.” Maurice pressed his handkerchief into Peter’s hand. Peter begrudgingly took it without a word, blowing his nose harshly into the cloth.

-snrf- What was that gibberish shit you were spewing at me before?” Peter asked, still snuffling into the handkerchief.

“Gibberish? Peter, it was French.”

“Yeah, feck off whatever, what did it mean? Were you flirting it up with me, Murry?”

“It’s uh, how the French say ‘gesundheit’ I guess. You start with ‘to your wishes’. If they sneeze again you add ‘to your loves’. If it continues you add, “may they last forever’. It’s kind of ancient but my parents always said it so I just caught on.”

“What the hell’s with you French people, anyway?” Peter scoffed, dabbing at his nose, “Can’tcha just say bless you?”

Maurice stood up with a sigh, grabbing his book, “Bless you. Keep the handkerchief.” He spun on his heels and began to leave.

“Hey where the hell’re you going?!” Peter called after the other.

“Away from you.”

“Oh but darlin’, we were just warming up to each other…” Peter chuckled, his nose twitching once more, “Heeh…hHE’KSsh!”

“Va crever!”

-snrf- Ah…and what the hell does that one mean?”

“Go to hell!”

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 Nnnngh I'm melting...!

 This is so adorable! I loved Peter, he's just trying to show Maurice some cigarette trick and ended up sneezing all over, I can't <3

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On 4.1.2018 at 9:41 PM, Always said:

I've never posted original fiction here before, and quite frankly, I'm a little bit nervous! :laugh:

Concerning the first part of this sentence: I'm pleased you've changed that! ^_^

Concerning the second: please don't be! :heart:

This was such a great idea and you've executed it perfectly (and with such yummy sneezes)! The ending was so funny and just SO on point! Go Maurice! :D

Thanks for sharing this :)

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  • 2 months later...

AHHH this was so beautiful ! We'll done. I love how you wrote murry-rice, it really brought his accent to life for me. Haha. I love peter !!! I also love his sneezes haha.

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