Past-Part Fills Post 1 -- CLOSED

[hetalia_kink]

Thanks to anon's suggestions we are now enforcing a past-part fills post

Fresh past-part fills post HERE

Comments and Suggestions go here

Don't forget to link your new fill at the fill index over here.
Remember though that you need not post your updates unless you posted in a new  part

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Never Forgive Me, Never Forget Me [2/??]

[anonymous]

Arthur awoke with his mouth open in a half scream. He only wanted to rest his eyes a bit but it seemed that he dozed off far too easily this time. And in turn, he paid for his little act of carelessness. He had a disorienting dream again, although it was unsettling at how vivid and...alive it seemed. This time, he was sitting in a classroom all alone. The windows looked like metal bars, shadowing over him, caging him. The sky was a dull gray, but it looked more alive than the inside of the classroom. The green painted walls were adorned with drawings which appeared to have been made most likely by grade school children. Arthur wanted nothing more than to tear them all down and burn them till the ashes melded with the earth. Beneath him, his socked feet slid across the polished wooden floor. Arthur wanted to escape, to just move but his body wouldn't listen. It was as though he was glued to his chair with the shadows of the windows chaining him there.

He took a deep breath; it was getting harder and harder to breath. Pinpricks of discomfort were starting to form in his chest, as if the air itself was gaining substance; it was starting to suffocate him. Arthur took awhile to focus his senses and concentrate on evening out his breathing. Vaguely, he was starting to be aware of a small sound. It sounded like water from a dripping faucet. It didn't stop though, and it started to get louder the more he tried to concentrate on it.

Drop. Drop. Drop.

Arthur looked down and saw his desk or what was left of it. Writings were carved into it, messages of hate, anger, humiliation. He could hear them all in his head, taunting him, sneering at him. Cruel voices were laughing, calling him names, blaming him for sins he did not commit, condemning him for something he did not do.

His head snapped up when he heard a sudden sound, a sound of someone sobbing. He was sure that it wasn't him, he was bloody sure that he was not the one crying. But one by one, tears started to drop onto the desk, blurring the carved words - disorienting them.

He awoke when bruised and wounded hands were starting to move to cover his eyes. Though he could not remember all that's written, one word stood out so vividly amongst the rest.

'SINNER'

The hate was far too real. That shocked him more than the voices did. But it was just a dream, that was all it was. He was awake now, at least. He woke up still sitting in his familiar armchair in the living room of his own house. His gaze roamed the familiar contours of the room, books were neatly in order in their respective places in the bookshelves. No ornaments, trinkets or picture frames were out of place. No stains decorated the cushions and even the wooden furniture seems to be polished, no trace of ever being tampered with. Everything was neat and tidy. Arthur would never admit it but he was the type of person who can easily lose things so he kept everything organized and in place as much as possible.

Sunlight was fingering in through the branches of the tree outside of the window, warming the patches of skin it touched and painting the room in a comforting light. He shifted slightly, only to feel the familiar weight of a blanket covering his torso. Strangely, Arthur didn't feel any sort of panic, he could count with one hand the number of people who had access to his house and even fewer who would be thoughtful enough to keep him warm. Arthur blinked away the last few traces of sleep before getting up and folding the layer of cotton and wool neatly, and placing it on the armchair. He wondered where his visitor could have gone. Aside from the soft padding noise his feet were making, everything else was quiet.

Pushing cold, barely shaking fingers through his hair, the blond man walked towards the kitchen; ready to make himself a cup of tea to calm himself. But as he was passing a nearby mirror, he could have sworn that there was another person standing beside him. He blinked and turned to face the mirror again, making certain that it was only his reflection he was seeing. Arthur saw a pale blond haired man, lips formed into a thin line. Tired and dull green eyes looking blankly back at him. He turns to leave.

But he couldn't shake off the feeling of eyes following him.

>.O

[anonymous]

T-thank you OP <3

This one's a little short but I'll be able to add some more plot in the next chapter?

Re: >.O

[anonymous]

O-Oh!! I found it!! *A* *was f5-ing part 5* ... *fail*

Never played/watched Silent Hill *is too much scared for that*, but... OMG! *_* This is amazing!! *A* *A* *A* [oh God. I'll never say 'amazing' without remembering America's Maru Kaite Chikyuu again... good.]

Gah! Poor Arthur!! D: Will he ever get a good night [moment?] of sleep? ;A; [Are these dreams about Alfred's past??? ...OMGTHEYARE,AREN'TTHEY?! *hugs Alfred* yosh yosh, you'll have Arthur at some point. *hopes*]

Well, I think you got that I want you to continue this, right? XD Like, I totally kill for wish that! ;D

ps.: sorry, I seem to rant a lot D: [and my English sucks.]