Part of a fanfic in a tragic tale where Arthur is cursed as a vampire and he eats Alfred.
The car skidded up along the curb. The blond inside instantly stepped out and slammed the door. He glanced at his clock and swallowed. Shit he was going to be late to his own meeting (as usual) but today was different. Alfred hoped he would have time to mention that surprise he would be bringing up for Christmas. It was December 20th, 2012 and the weather followed suit. They were a dreadful pale white veil of clouds tinted with gray patches that let rain an invisible mist that Alfred’s thick pilot jacket protected, like a stone wall, all but his face from the cool, crisp air that cut sharply across his cheeks.. He jogged up the steps of the estate cursing under his breath, (Russia needs to keep General Winter at his place!).
As he stepped inside the building he was greeted by Canada, his brother, and folded over on his knees to catch his breath.
“Hey, did they… lock you out of the meeting on accident, again?” Alfred asked, trying to sound concerned to hide some chuckles.
“No, you’re surprisingly early.” Matthew said.
“Really?!” The American glanced at his watch. “Oh yeahh… Haha I set my watch ahead of time last night-“
“And you forgot. Nice.”
“Kiku taught me that trick. Wait till England sees I’m early.” Alfred could barely contain the wide grin on his lips at the thought of it.
For a while they peered into the meeting rooms, where they were being used by America's government officials. When they peered into a particular room, the President and the Cabinet were sipping their glasses of water, giving each other quick glances, one wiped his forehead. The President would look at his watch, his foot tapping to the metronome of the second hand, and every few seconds he would look around instead.
“Ah Alfred, Matthew.” The old man rejoiced seeing the Avatar of the Canadian nation. “Where's the Canadian Prime Minister?”
“Oh... he had to use the bathroom. We drove down here.” Matthew pointed with his thumb down the hall.
The President let out a sigh of relief. A few minutes later the Canadian Prime Minister walked passed Matthew, and, to everyone's delight, Germany and his boss showed up right behind.
“Luddy, ya made it!” Alfred gave the German great big hug, which the other was prepared for, and was one of the few whose bones didn't crush under Alfred's eager grip.
“Ja- Of course I would be on time. I arrived here a day early.”
Alfred gave out a knowing hearty laugh. He put Ludwig down and the German straightened the wrinkles of his uniform, returning it to its impeccable form. For a while the three chatted in a circle about recent affairs, how Prussia was doing, while the world leaders remarked on their children, their wives, and their state of affairs.
By the time thirty minutes passed they received a news update from the Secretary. Several flights across the whole of Europe had been delayed. Alfred snickered, because he could only imagine Arthur as a steaming red tea kettle for being late, clawing his armchair over minor turbulence. But the other two were a bit troubled.
“Well they'll be here eventually. You guys want to play some games at the lounge while we wait?”
“Nien, but thanks for the offer.” Ludwig passed as he held up a book he'd brought, Mien Awesome Diary Vol. 24.
“I'll play.” Matthew volunteered, though he felt a small pit at the base of his stomach. He sent a quick text to everyone asking what was going on and then noticed the signal was dead.
“Hey Al, what's up with the reception here? I can't seem to get any bars.”
Alfred took out his phone and held it up. “Huh? That's weird.”
Ludwig checked his and only the corners of his lips frowned. “Perhaps we should go outside.” And so they did and tested out their theory but to no avail.
“Maybe the tower's down.” Alfred whispered. Though he highly doubted this. When his gut started to roll and twist, he shook his head. “Ha-ha let's go back inside. It's getting nippy out here.”
For the next few hours Alfred and Matthew played a bit of Call of Duty, leaning back on the nice plump bean bag chairs, while Ludwig sat on striped couch with a cup of coffee at his side in a quiet corner of the room. A secretary had brought five orders of Big Mac combos, which Alfred engorged in a manner of seconds and sipped on his soda, slurping all the little puddles at the bottom of the cup.
The knock on the door paused the game as the three turned their attention to the grim faces of their bosses appear. The President was angry and confused.
“I'm sorry to say, that the World Convention has been canceled. We called up the world leaders through the telephone line... they canceled at the last minute.”
“Aw man!” Alfred got up and drank all of the soda in one gulp. “Stupid hurricane. I just reserved the best table at one of Italy's pizza parlors!” He said with pout.
“All of them?” Matthew couldn't believe it and Ludwig slammed his book shut, deep in thought and feeling
It was typical of that Italian, he probably forgot it and took a siesta. He’d have a word with him later. And France well he sometimes didn't feel like being involved. Russia was a flip of the coin as was China. But England and Japan would never do something like that, unless a far more important matter came up, and Ludwig highly doubted it. They'd all planned for this and at those two had better have a good excuse, all of them in fact.
Matthew pat Alfred on the back. “We can still go for pizza.”
“Nah, I lost my appetite for it. Let's just get some kebabs.” The gleam in Alfred's eyes was gone, and for the rest of the day his head would be facing the floor.
Ludwig made a guttural grunt as he cleared this throat. As inexcusable as this news was he pushed it aside and put a hand on Alfred's shoulder. He gave him a smile.
They changed out of their stiff suits and put on some casual wear for the evening with light jackets to protect them from the cold. The night was quiet and the sky a purple mucky blob, tinted orange by the faint glow of New York's buzzing lights. Not a single star accompanied the trio that night as they walked around with kabobs wrapped in cheap wax paper, which in a few moments ended up in the trash.
“So Al, what’s the surprise you were gonna mention today?” Matthew brought up, it had been on his mind for some time.
Alfred turned his attention from looking at his sneakers. “Oh, I was hoping you know that-“Their stroll through the crowded metropolis was broken by the crying sound of bagpipes.
“Op- That's Artie.” Alfred slipped the phone out of his jean pocket and put it to his ear.
“Alfred. Look there's not time – “Alfred heard some buzzing in his phone. He cleaned his ear quickly and put it back on. “I need you to – as fast as you can and –“
“Yo Artie, speak up!”
“--with you. Just LISTEN to ME! I'm sorry – time is of –“The call hung up.
“How good is your signal?” Matthew asked.
“It's pitiful.” Alfred scowled. He smacked his phone, as if it misbehaved and madly twiddled his thumbs on the screen, going to the settings, and even resetting the phone. He called Arthur again.
“Put it on speaker.” Ludwig suggested. The two leaned their heads close to Alfred as he held it out. It ringed three times before an ear splitting sound came from Alfred's phone. All three of them covered their ears, and a nearby car skidded on the turn. Next all they heard were three shots of gunfire and then the line went dead.
When Ludwig and Matthew turned their heads, Alfred already stood in the middle of the street and whistled. A taxi stopped dead in its tracks and if Alfred were human it would’ve flung his body on impact.
Instead of scolding Alfred for his recklessness, the two instantly got into the back seat of the car and Alfred slammed into the passengers.
“Hey look if choo want to die man...” The taxi driver began, rather nervous as to how any person would almost commit suicide.
“Just shut up and get us to JFK Airport on the double!” A wad of cash was in Alfred's hands.
“You got it boss.” The man happily stomped on the gas pedal.
When they arrived, Alfred quickly flung bills to the driver like a poker dealer and left. All three of them sprinted across the tarmac to Alfred's private hangar with ease and turned on the light.
“We'll take the G6.”
The tank was full, Ludwig and Alfred ran some quick specs to make sure everything was ship shape before they got inside. Matthew brought a small crew to help them, and they got the plane out in no time.
“I'll tell our leaders we're gonna get home on our own.” Matthew said as he got out his phone and began sending text messages.
“Just hang on back there, it's gonna be a wild ride.” In the distance they could see the tall storm clouds that rumbled over the Atlantic Ocean. Matthew buckled himself down.
“We'll manage be there in about five hours.” Ludwig remarked.
Alfred bit his tongue. As he increased the speed. “Let's make that four and a half.”
The engines whined but the American coaxed the plane and she managed to pull through as he was pushing her to her limits and into the fray.
It was 3:15 in the morning at London City Airport. Thunder bellowed, banging the drum of the sky as it rained chaotically, the wind flinging downpours to and fro. That didn't hinder the three nations as they hailed another taxi all the way to the Kirkland Manor.
The lights in the manor were on. The car came to a slow but Alfred couldn't wait as he left the moving car at the right moment and sprinted up toward the house. Ludwig barked, running behind him when the car stopped, and Matthew handed their driver a couple pounds.
The husky squeaks of Alfred's sneakers echoed throughout the manor before coming to a halt, where a huge puddle formed all over the polished mahogany.
“Arthur?!” His voice echoed throughout the whole house. When no one replied Alfred ran upstairs and tried to open the double doors to the second floor. The knob jingled, but it wouldn't budge. He banged on the wood. “Artie open up goddammit! It's me Alfred!”
Alfred stood back, tapped his foot on the floor before lifting it, ready for a good kick.
“Don't Alfred!” Matthew stood in front and managed to stop him.
“He's got to be upstairs I know it!”
“Then why is it locked?!” Matthew yelled.
Ludwig turned on his heels and began scanning. All that could be heard now was the echo of a tick-tock from the grandfather clock. It created a beat. A rumble from the storm outside followed at certain intervals. The rain filled the gaps. Ludwig's eyes squinted before smelling something he was all too familiar with and stormed in that direction. Matthew and Alfred stumbled down the grand stair case before following after the German.
The trio walked into a corridor of Arthur's library, before heading into his large study. The gun shots echoed in Alfred's mind. The sound of anything unpleasant happening to Arthur, made Alfred take one large step and then a small hesitant one. What was the worst that could happen to him? (They turned the corner.) He'd been through two world wars and a blitz and was as old as Stone Henge, nothing could be far worse-
“What the fu–“
Puke filled Alfred's gaping mouth as he leaned against the wall, and spewed out everything he'd eaten that day. Matthew's lips twitched and Ludwig felt he'd seen this somewhere before.
Pieces of thin skin and black fabric floated like paper, chunks of raw meat lying in the bloody soup, along with some snaky looking things Alfred hoped weren't intestines. There was a gaping hole in the man's gut, where something had gnawed away at it like it was picking the good parts to eat of what was left of the Brit's head butler. You could see the start of the spine and part of his skull. The rest had been obliterated and drenched in blood.
Cold beads sweat down Ludwig's forehead. He brought forth the hard trained soldier within, knelt down, and began investigating.
Alfred wiped his lip gripping on the slippery polished wood. “Artie?!” He croaked. With a good swallow he cleared his throat and began to frantically search, doors trembled open and slammed closed before his wake. He needed to find the Brit more than ever before. “Pops?!” (Damn that didn't work?)
The Canadian broke out of his stone figure. He walked around the study. Arthur's gun was on the floor. Picking it up he pressed the release and the magazine slipped onto the desk.
“Sorry.” Matthew said, but Ludwig didn't seem to hear him.
As his hand reached for the magazine, his eye caught sight of the broken fountain pen that spilled its own black blood all over. The nib broke off completely. Right beside it was a letter where the calligraphy looked more like the sharp violent scratches of a seismograph.
He picked it up and began to read.
“Dear Alfred, Matthew, and Ludwig,
If you are reading this letter, then I've been– “A splatter of ink covered up the word.
“I hoped to call you soon in order to explain all this in person. My destiny fast approaches, the Ancients work at hand, and I must pass the torch unto you three. You are our last hope.”
“Ludwig...I found something.”
Hearing these key words, the German immediately turned his attention to the letter while Matthew called Alfred back.
“What the hell are you guys doing looking at...?” A green wave passed over Alfred as he saw the puddle of blood before he just told himself to stare away.
“A letter from Arthur.”
All three of them read it together.
“My apologies that we never told any of you of the burden we carried, but it was on a need to know basis, and we'd hoped that this day would never come, much to our fruitful efforts.
The other nations have been captured, and as I write this to you, these forces set their sights on London.
Find my enchanting room. It's in the library behind the –. There you will find your answers as to what has befallen me and what awaits you. Until you have seen beyond the veil, I cannot describe or even mention what you will find. Know this: The fate of the World depends on it.
Monsters will come once you've read the book. Things will change.
Alfred be strong. No matter what you might see, hear, or feel be strong.
Matthew keep your wits about and your brother under your wing. For me. And remember our incantation lessons.
You boys are my pride and joy.
And Ludwig you have my gratitude. If Gilbert were here, he'd tell you, ‘It is your time to be Awesome.’
The letter remained unfinished.
|New Fanfic Series.|
If you want to read some psych/horror with Hetalia characters in it trying to stop the end of the world... CLICK HERE XDD and read.
Chapter 1: Fresh meat
Droning and droning the words and arcs through his head as the lesson for his homework read itself out. He understood the math completely but the numbers were Chinese today. When he was in this chair he preferred to be on the pounded into the bed, that times like these yes, he had to admit, he even missed Francis. Yet when he was there in the moment he'd feel like a complete dirty wanker and preferred to do his homework. In all honesty his hands would find no more pleasure than behind the soft wood of a frigate's black wheel, decked out with brass diamonds and glided in around the ridges of the helm. The brine of the sea gently brushing his hair, giving him a taste of salt and fresh air while his ears took delight to hear the sails whip at full canvas. There he could find peace and definitely feel more inclined to do just... about... anything.
Knock knock knock. The knock came from the door next to his desk.
Arthur snorted, waking from his day dream. “Hmm who is it?”
“Tadaima~” A small figure gently opened the wooden door that was the only portal between their rooms. Arthur didn't bother to lock it unless he was busy, no one was in there and the front door to Kiku's room was locked. The only way in was through his door, but the building was void of almost all signs of life.
“Okaeri.” Arthur said sheepishly in a thick accent, but Kiku paid no mind for occasionally he would mispronounce and “l” here and there. “It's already August?" He rolled his chair out and stretched his arms out feeling his spine pop and put the stylus down on the touch screen work space.
“I would berieve so. You didn't go to Engrand after all?”
“I couldn't be arsed. My parents were going to take me to the Philippines so no one would be home. I decided I'd prefer staying up here at the Station and get my summer assignments done.” Going home led to traveling to distant undersides of the world which were bathed in sunlight and monsoon. Being up here in space for so long in an artificial ring, Arthur all actually missed the torrents of rainstorm after rainstorm, the lick of the sea, and the grey dingy look of London.
“You know you had my permission to use my entertainment studio.” Kiku had that worried look. Almost everyone had left in the summer, and the ones that stayed lived on the first floor of the dorm or were graduating, people whom Arthur wasn't acquainted with. Spending two months in total isolation, not that isolation bothered either them it was sometimes necessary, he knew how much it enveloped Arthur's mind, especially if he lost count of the months.
“Oh I gave myself the liberty to play some Skyrim and a bit of Final Fantasy” Arthur at least tried to. The first few weeks that was all he did, while occasionally heading down to the convenience store and stuffing himself with microwaveable fish fingers, salt and vinegar crisps, and several bottles of cheap ale. God forbid he used the kitchen unsupervised lest he pay the fine of setting the buildings fire alarm off again. To see Francis and several other of his friends beet red and steaming off the water that rained down upon them was worth the price, that is, until he got a visit from a sopping tall wet Russian and if Kiku had not intervened... he owed him his life.
Hearing that Arthur had tried to keep himself sane, Kiku's face lightened up a little. He came over and glanced at the model sitting on Arthur's makeshift work bench.
“How is that coming arong?” Kiku asked with a small smile. There under the rays of sunlight trying to peek through the blinds was a ship. There was a clear bottle of glue mostly capped and caked with dried bits of itself here and there, some pencils strewn around and a notebook sprinkled with eraser entrails and a blotchy spot that had been rubbed repeatedly one too many times.
Arthur let out a whiny groan. “I'm debating what I want for the bow... I haven't found a design I've really taken a fancy to yet.” Already just looking at the ship his mind buzzed a billion miles with ideas all at once that he looked away. If even he glanced at it longer, Kiku would cease to exist.
“I'm sure something wir come up. You just need some time and inspiration. It is a work of art.” His friend complimented, with that genuine small lipped smile.
“Oh it's not the Queen Anne's Revenge... it's a work in progress.” Arthur blushed rubbing the back of his neck as he realized something he should've done something a long time ago. “Oh dear you just got here, do you need help unpacking?”
“No, no, prease don't trouble yourself.” Kiku put his hands up. “I didn't know you were here. There was a young man who helped me get my stuff up here. I think we have some new neighbors.”
“Oh, that's sounds... great.” Arthur said in the most neutral tone for having two new freshmen in his mind did not bode well. He was glad he'd get to know his neighbors before the rest of the wolf pack came back from Earth and soon they would eat them for breakfast... no. This would not be a repeat of last year.
“I was wondering if you'd help me welcome them. I asked if they needed help getting there things up here it seems his brother has taken care of it. They're out getting the last things.”
Oh so the two new recruits were related, it peaked Arthur's curiosity. “Sure. I'm up for it, what do you need me to do? Should I make something for them?” He rubbed his hands together and imagined the kitchen.
Alarm bells rang in Kiku's mind though his face showed no such alarm. “How bout you clean their rooms? I'm sure they could use some touch ups before they get here.”
“Right.” Arthur pulled up his sleeves and went out into the hall. He went down to the closet near the end of the hall and grabbed some of the cleaning supplies in it then went over to the door just left of his. Taking out a crunched up paper clip Arthur twisted it here and there continuously till the lock clicked and gave way. (Hehe still got it.) Glancing down the hall there were some boxes and suitcases piled in neat little piles near the doors. Arthur went in and got a good look at the battlefield. Everything had some thick coat of gray to it and the floor had some pieces of paper here and there.
Today it was him and the dust bunnies who had lived long enough in their secret base under the bed frame and the furniture as he tied his Union Jack bandana around his head, let the gloves spank his wrist and began to work.
Those were the only words Alfred's mind knew, right there as he stared at the shadow of the Earth above him. His mouth wide and agape, and his blue eyes as big as the planet itself. He gasped like a zombie as something dragged his arm and his feet were on autopilot.
A hand waved over his eyes and when that didn't work...
“Earth to Freddie!”
“Yeah... Earth.” It reflected in Alfred's glasses. Matthew slapped his face realizing that wouldn't work but all the same he gave into a warm understanding smile and joined his brother to look at the view. “I think I'm in heaven...” Alfred moaned softly. His knees were just gone, blown away, that his feet could barely keep him standing while he held a large blue duffel bag behind him. He just let his eyes take it all in from left to right as he saw the little blue haze over East Asia and Alaska, as the US was slowly enveloped by the darkness twinkling with the lights of New York in the very distance.
“I can't believe we're here too. It feels so...dreamy.”
“So much better than drugs... like I mean seriously. We're here on the fucking Ring!” Alfred's voice hitched out of excitement he released in laughter as he then turned his attention to the world around him, holding his arms out and gesturing to all of it.
“The ISR Flight Academy.” Matthew hauled his red duffel bag over and started walking again.
“Yeah...can't believe I passed the fucking test.”
It was close one. Alfred could not sleep for weeks as he read word for word every chapter of the test aid, bought himself boxes of Red Bull and Coke and several orders of Big Macs for this. Saturday and Sunday were sleeping days and from Monday to Friday he scheduled his own lessons from the Space Race to intense Calc problems. No games and no internet (unless for some Wiki facts) and Alfred never once caved into temptation, which astounded Matthew and had left him speechless but with the heavy pit of concern in his throat.
On the week before the test, Alfred exploded, thinking what if this, what if, what if, so much he was dragging Mat with down with him to the edge of insanity. So Matt sneaked a strong sleep aid into Al's coke at reasonable times to help his brother get a good night’s sleep. Matthew helped Alfred study, but barely broke a sweat throughout the whole ordeal. Both brothers passed the physical with flying colors but the written portion left Alfred pale as snow that no amount of Black Ops could diffuse the agony and anxiety eating down towards a very deadly bomb, as they waited for their acceptance letters. Upon receiving them, Alfred's “FUCK YEAH!” anxiety bomb had set off all the car alarms within a mile radius.
“Well just try to keep your excitement on the low, k? We're living in a dorm now and I don't know how well the insulation is. We're gonna be wall to wall with our new neighbors.”
Al could care less if the wall were made out of rice paper, he just wanted to start unpacking his room and set up his elaborate entertainment system and break out the games. There were only a handful of days left before school started, he'd was going to make the best of it and perhaps invite friends over to play. He flew up four flights of stairs at a quick and steady pace before making it to the hall he'd managed to dump all their stuff into and stopped.
(Something smells good.) Like a hound dog Alfred followed his nose and stomach navigate the way to the source of the smell. He peered his head over the door and there was a short guy cutting up something he poured into the bowl and stirred it. Behind him on the counter was plate after plate of sushi, yakisoba, a big bowl of nikujaga, rice, and so much more. It wasn't burgers, but Alfred certainly liked the occasional visit to a Japanese Steakhouse to watch the fireworks.
Matthew caught up to Alfred peering into a kitchen and his stomach joined the song of growls.
Upon hearing the whine of an empty stomach, Kiku turned and served the bowls of miso soup, before looking up. “Konbanwa Matthew-san.” Kiku went over and bowed. “This is your brother, I'm guessing.”
“Yeah this is Alfred. Al this is our suite-mate, Kiku Honda.” Matthew introduced them.
“Nice to meet you.” Al took out his hand which Kiku knew being around Arthur, was the western version of a bow. He took it firmly and shook it, a little surprised at Alfred's strong grip.
“Likewise. You're just in time for dinner. Please take a seat.”
Alfred didn't hesitate and quickly went over to leave his bag leaning in the hallway before sitting down and folding his hands neatly as he waited, his foot bouncing like a rabbit as Kiku brought over plate after plate and set it out on the table.
Thunk, thunk, thunk, thunk, thunk.
Heavy footsteps were heard coming over as the brothers turned to look at another blond come in from the door way, holding a plastic bag with the telltale white cardboard box. Alfred's smile sprang into action.
“I'm... sorry, but some of the cakes had nuts or nut ingredients...' He huffed before noticing the two brothers in the kitchen.
Kiku gave a soft inner laugh. “This is Arthur Kirkland, my roommate, Arthur this is Alfred-san and Matthew-san.”
“Hey!” Both brothers waved as Arthur took out the box and set it down on the counter for later. He rubbed his hands looking down at his personal nikujaga... which also added insult to injury that he had to rely on Kiku to make beef stew instead of his black tar. He had to admit though adding soy sauce to it gave it an interesting taste he'd come to love, that if he ever went back to England he would be caught dead secretly pouring it into his mother's stew.
Alfred helped himself to as much as he could, though he had a little twinge of jealousy that Arthur got the plate he desired to get his hands on the most.
“So I hear you're into video games, Alfred-san.”
“Mmmhmm.” Alfred was about to talk when he could feel Matthew's eyes fly right through his skull like throwing knives and swallowed. “Yeah, I like em. You game too?” Kiku gave one nod and a smile. “Sweet, wanna play tonight?”
“I'd be glad too but I just arrived from Japan. How does tomorrow sound? I can set aside games if the rest of you would like to join.”
“That sounds like a plan. I'll join.” Matthew added.
All the while the three of them talked, well mostly Alfred, Arthur listened intently as he watched the two brothers like a hawk, taking an assessment of how he was going to spare these two from the lion pride that ruled over this dorm.
Matthew could perhaps get by like Kiku did last year. The lad seemed intent to keep to himself at dinner conversation, but when the right moment arose he didn't mind speaking, he'd get along in this hall famously. His down fall though was his womanly graces. With curly smooth hair that looked like something of the box of expensive hair products, his only saving grace from Francis and others would be his invisibility.
Alfred on the other hand... whatever Matthew didn't tell him Alfred filled in the blanks. Physically he was built like a tank underneath his vintage pilot jacket, which Arthur could bet his money it was as old as World War 2 and had probably been in action. (Military lineage.) He had the brightest eyes that complimented his sincere white smile and that he wore it down to his sleeves and didn't even bother hiding it, which could only remind Arthur of a seven year old boy in a man's body. (Kinky.) Arthur’s legs crossed one another. There was only one other person who he knew shared that kind of characteristic but instead he had a mouthful of shit storm to blow to anyone who dare call him a child. Only Antonio managed to get away, re-growing his balls every night.
Somehow Alfred's mouth just kept going and going that Arthur was certain he'd talk his stalkers to death. Yet Arthur couldn't seem to hear a word between those lips of his as Alfred swallowed down sushi rolls and tempura like it was air. He was probably fat on the side, from here it was hard to tell. As far as he was concerned Alfred would be a passing fancy for most. Of course he hoped he was right and knocked on the wood to make sure.
“So Arthur. Where ya from?” Hearing his name caught Arthur's attention.
“England.” Arthur ate the last of his stew.
(England. Ing-l-a-nd.) Alfred mocked in his head, knowing well saying it aloud would get him killed. As much as he found it funny, the accent had a charming ring to it nothing like he'd heard in movies. It wasn't haughty and drawn out but short and a little light on the vowels.
“You?” Arthur asked.
“Been all over the states.” Alfred slurped his soup down. “I don't really have a favorite though, I like something about each one I've been to. You ever visit the US?”
“No.” Arthur took a sip of coca cola, his lips barely touching the glass.
Alfred huffed out. Arthur was boring, what was with all the one word questions and answers? Was he a robot inside or something, because he only seemed to do two have two functions: eat and breathe. Kiku on the other hand already seemed interesting, he wondered just how much the little japanese man knew about gaming, because if only had a few games and one console he was alright. If he had more had a studio on the other hand...
“So who else lives here besides us?”
“There's a guy named Toris and then there's... Ivan.”
The way Arthur said Ivan's name got Alfred's attention, not to mention he finally got more than three words out of the stodgy Brit.
“Where are they?”
Dammit this guy was hard core, but it was just first meeting. A whole year in the Academy living next to the guy might just do it.
Two days later…
Bright in the morning Kiku rose before the red sun and stretched as he began his early morning exercises given to him by a program he created on his computer, shouting, “I-chi, ni, san~!” As he went to the showers already something felt amiss. Where was Arthur? He pulled out his watch... 6:30. Kiku headed back and knocked on their shared door.
“Arthur?” He waited. The hand reached the five minute mark so Kiku let himself in.
Arthur was sprawled on his couch, in a tangled mess under his blanket. A pillow was tied to his head and his arms hung limp, one could mistake him for being dead. The first thing his eyes looked for was the telltale bottle of whiskey but to Kiku's surprise there were no such bottles. He felt a little proud.
Bang... Bang! The sound startled Kiku as he approached Arthur. It came from the wall on Alfred's side, followed by a crescendo of snores. Kiku stood there for a while and went over to Arthur's bed. Sure enough it was so loud he could barely think. He returned to the task at hand to see if Arthur would wake up.
“Arthur.... Arthur-kun.” Kiku very gently nudged Arthur. Not even a flinch. Kneeling down Arthur had dark print-pressed circles under his eyes and drool escaped his mouth.
(Today was not a bad day to sleep in.) The quilt had been aired and tucked to conform to Arthur's body as his head lay softly on another pillow.
The lazy afternoon rolled in and Arthur took in a sharp sniff of cherry blossoms, smacking his lips to get the taste of bile out of his mouth. The sunlight streamed its fingers up the blinds and down onto his ship, and the wood turned to gold at its touch.
Alfred blasted through Kiku's door. “Hey Iggy! Want to play some Mario Kart?!”
Arthur wished he'd stuck to his name when they made the Mii characters. Kiku chose the name Igirisu as his Mii's name since figuring out the right kanji for “Arthur” was a headache, at the time it wasn't a problem. Only he and Kiku played together with Feliciano visiting on occasion. When Alfred saw the name for the first time he read it aloud and Kiku corrected him. Now he had a new nickname to add to the list and by far Artie sounded like heaven.
Alfred only heard a sound that, at the drop of a hat, made his spine pop and came to attention like a soldier. If he had a tail it would've been between his legs.
The air was thick with sweat, a hint of rose, and some really Old Spice roamed the air making the room was hot, Arthur needed to turn up the AC. As the dust in the air twirled in the light he followed it to where the sound came from.
The dark shadows of the wood against the sun's rays gave Arthur orange and black stripes across his shirtless body. (Dude slept in the nude? Eh a little on the skinny side but nice pack.) It was just a rumor he'd heard but apparently Europeans were more liberal with such things. He admitted he was no stranger to sleeping shirtless but pantless... his eyes trailed upward and froze. The black stripe over Arthur's eyes gave them a kelly green sparkle that left his mouth dry. Arthur's messy bed hair seemed to get bigger and spikier the moment he stepped into the room like the fur on a feral cat's back as the Brit bared his fangs and he clenched his teeth.
“Get... out!” A low growl mixed with the rumble of his breakfast deprived stomach echoed throughout the room, which left Alfred standing on his toes. His minds were confused, one frightened and the other completely aroused. There was a tiger in the room wearing a golden crown and Alfred had just pissed him off. How, he didn't know, but if the guy had space issues Alfred wasn't willing to find out.
Kiku came right behind him, spouting angry japanese and Alfred nodded and closed the door.
Arthur swore. He swore he was going to kill that American, nail his bed to the middle of room, and commence medieval methods of torture. The thought gave Arthur a most wicked grin. Snoring, groaning, moaning, kicking his damn feet against the wall like a child all night long, and that was just the encore. Around ten when Arthur would decide to hit the hay, Alfred turned up the surround sound and invited Drowning Pool the Vietnam War over. No matter how much Arthur banged up against the wall and demanded Alfred turn it down, it somehow always came back up.
It was two days before school and tonight he was going to get his damn sleep.
“Night Kiku.” Alfred waved sheepishly. Kiku beat him well today in the game right after the lecture about opening the door, and remained pissed off the entire day for Alfred’s impudence.
“Oyasumi, Alfred-kun.” The door closed.
Alfred stretched out as he headed into the hallway. His mind kept flashing back to that moment when tiger Arthur glared at him with those eyes. (I swear someone gave me that look before… was is Janette, no no… Alice… no… Olivia?)
Clack clack clack
(Eh fuck it. What does it matter? That look’s just hot period. I wonder if he’s into guys-) Alfred felt his glasses crash against the bridge of his nose. When he opened his eyes stared there were squares of cotton thread stranded together next to a long strand of wool bound in knots that created links and those links chained into a scarf. He looked up.
A long sigh blew Alfred's cow lick back and his glasses shielded him from the warm breath as they fogged up. He took them off, wiped them clear, and looked again.
“Hey. Haven't met you before, name's Alfred.” His arm came up mechanically.
The tall guy in front of him gave an empty smile, he probably enjoyed towering over him. Alfred didn't think it was possible to be taller than him, Matthew came close but this... this guy was actually taller, that Alfred's body came up to his full height and expanded his chest just a little to try and even the score. The attempt only got him one meager centimeter or two.
The stranger seemed amused took Alfred's hand and shook it as a shock went up through Alfred's body. His hands were fucking freezing and rough with dry skin craters on them that felt like sharp blades of ice. Alfred tested his hand to see if it was bleeding.
“Привет Alfred. I'll let you off with a warning, stay out of my way.” His voice was just a low hiss mixed with his thick Russian accent. Did he take breath mints of some kind because whatever it was, the wintergreen mints gave the American's cheeks frostbite. And just like that Ivan walked right past him and headed towards the door at the very end of the hall.
(Commie.) It was wrong to think it but that guy didn't show any sign of decency at all and he certainly acted like one, enough to make Alfred wonder who pissed him off. Hell who pissed Arthur off? Was every person across the sea fucking pmsing?
He jammed his key into the lock so hard that it scratched the paint off and after three tries Alfred just managed to open his door by pressing his entire body against it.
The room before him was completely alien and this was the last damn straw.
“Matt!” Alfred barked like a Drill Sargent. Matthew actually popped in and the lollipop in his mouth popped out and cracked on the wooden board. “You better explain this shit to me now!”
“Hey you’re fucking barking up the wrong tree. It wasn't me Alfred, I swear.” Matthew put his hands up. The entire room had been shaken up like a snow globe and rearranged. The bed was in the middle of the room and Alfred’s “organized convenience clutter” was gone. He searched around every drawer and cabinet, everything in a place that was so foreign to Alfred, not on the floor, not where he last dropped it and left it there for his convenience.
“What the Spring Cleaning Fairy just dropped in and messed up my room? My evidence.” He went over and pointed to Matthew's room which was spick'n span.
“Well you know well I gave up cleaning your room and so did mom, so it wasn't me.”
“Well... you're the only one who can come into my room.”
“Maybe you left it open Al.”
Alfred grumbled. He actually couldn't remember if he had locked it or not. There wasn't a reason to sometimes it just escaped his mind, but now he'd make sure he always locked his room.
Seeing that Alfred quietly admitted he may have forgotten it was Matthew's cue to leave and he closed the door.
Alfred searched his entire room again, found the Xbox controller and turned on the TV. The moment the Menu screen came on, he could barely hear it and grabbed the remote as his thumb pressed the + button. It was loud... but not enough and Alfred dreaded with a ravenous growl that his surround sound system had been tampered with. Sure enough someone unplugged the wires on the back of the TV and the hassle to find said cables, was a scavenger hunt Alfred didn’t want to deal with.
He gave up and slammed into his pillows screaming at the top of his lungs till it gave him a sore throat. He took a deep breath and let it all go. Then he stopped and sniffed his pillow.
(Why does this smell like… roses… and… Old Spice.)
If the pillow was Arthur’s head, Alfred would’ve certainly crushed it. For now drenched and drunk in his own wrath made his head spin and Alfred just stripped off and headed to sleep. In his dreams though nothing now gave him more satisfaction that stabbing Arthur's red coat with the end of his bayonet and all the same he hated those kelly green eyes, because no matter what emotion Arthur conveyed he still found them to be the most beautiful shade of green that shined best in a red blood soaked coat.
If you want some RusAme, UsUk, and FrUk angst... read this fic.
Younger viewers be warned. Some content on my page is for a mature audience.|
Call me Sam or Sammeh or whatevs XD.
Why? Because every where I go someone calls out Sara, but I never know if it's me. I hear Sam less anyways, it sounds like a guys name and it's my initials so yeah... there ya go.
I've always wanted to be a guy [hence the MUSTACHE] but I ended up having boobs. [Dammit] But meh, I just throw on a black t-shirt, wear some pants, draw on a mustache, act a little flirty, and play video games.
But I secretly do like wearing dresses... you know the ones with corsets made of velvet and have like layers of skirt and those loose girl-from-the-valley shirts? I also want to wear a kimono. Seriously those look hot.
I like to sing, especially when I'm really sad, because singing really makes me happy, it takes a weight off my chest. But I want to get good at it so at least people don't complain
I love all kinds of music and I like to make music. I can't play many instruments, I have tiny hands and tiny arms, but I once played the French Horn. Never again XDD. I wanted to play the piano but again... small hands. So I just compose music on a computer with a keyboard. It's a lot of fun.
I have a really open sense of humor... like dude Cards Against Humanity is my game.
I'm Atheist. End of Discussion here lols.
I was born in Bogota, Colombia. I was raised in the United States, in various states.
But if you were to ask me what nationality I am, honestly I don't think I have one. I also don't consider myself to be hispanic... or anything for that matter. I'm a human being, there's really not much else to it.
I'm an oddball in everything, I never quite "fit in" to anything, except my skinny jeans.
I like to draw because I just I wanted to make things real in my head when I was a kid. I wanted to cartoon a lot and I got so frustrated that I could never do it ya know? Several years later and I'm really starting to see how my never flailing stubbornness to keep trying has paid off. I'm like really proud and happy that I can finally draw what I want and make it real. Now I feel one step closer to my dream.
I really want to travel the world particularly Europe and Japan. Reading about it, watching it on TV, lols can't wait to actually see certain parts of the world.
I'm left handed. So haha I'm that weird 10% of the human race.
I'm better at reading Spanish and French than I am speaking the languages. Ironically English is my second language and I love it to death, particularly British English. When I was in Kindergarten I failed my spelling tests on purpose XDD Don't care, in my world it's spelled COLOUR BITCHES.
I have a guilty pleasure for fairy tales. Reason I say guilty pleasure is because as a growing writer, fairy tales have plot holes and have almost like no purpose, very bland characters, and everything has a happy ending, but fuck it that's what makes em so likeable XD
I always like to entertain people, I like to make em smile. I like to change up my day and make faces and think about weird things so that not everyday is the same as the one before. I like to act silly because it's boring to act normal and it really helps me stay away from depression.
I sometimes over analyze and think things over way too much, more than I should, so you can bet I don't like to gamble. But I guess being impulsive and happy every now and then wouldn't hurt.
BUT MOST IMPORTANTLY *le gasp* I'm a storyteller. I like to read stories, and I like to tell stories and that is the most important part of me. I want to create this amazing story in this amazing world one day. That is my goal. Create a new living world with a compelling story.
Whether it'll be a novel or a graphic comic I don't know but I know it'll be wonderful and an adventure to create.
So I guess in short: I am a tomboy named Sam, I am a renaissance artist and a renaissance girl, living in a material world.
Welcome to mah page~! Enjoy ur stay.