Dreaming of Reality pt. 2
anonymous
August 10 2009, 02:01:04 UTC
He was on the phone again in an instant, arranging an emergency jet be prepared for immediate departure when he arrived back home. Not delving into a detailed reason, he only said that he needed to go to America as fast as the plane could take him. The whole flight, Arthur sat restlessly in his seat. Minutes seemed like hours, and Arthur hoped he was overreacting; however, when he arrived at Alfred’s home, he was distressed to find he hadn’t. The front door of Alfred’s home was wide open, the first troubling fact Arthur noted upon his arrival. Making his way hastily into the house, he was met with utter silence. The stifling, still air smelt stagnant. Arthur tried to remain calm, but the mounting concern within his mind urged him to rush. Going from room to room, he called out for Alfred. Panting in his panicked state, he fell silent as he entered the master bedroom, Alfred’s room. Seeing Alfred unconscious, undressed, save for a towel around his waist, and face down on the floor, Arthur feared the worst. Wasting little time, Arthur went to his friend, knelt, and lifts Alfred off the ground. Dampened from sweat, clammy to the touch, with labored breathing, Alfred’s life drifted closer to extinction. Alfred needed medical attention and fast. Taking his dear friend into his arms, Arthur took on the duty of healing the American. Arthur carried Alfred to the large spacious bed, laying him gently on top of the covers. Dark circles surrounded the American’s eyes which stayed shut no matter how much Arthur shook him. Just seeing Alfred in such a rundown state made Arthur woozy, but he knew that he would need to fight it if Alfred had any hope to live. Knowing the American was well versed in the field of medicine, Arthur left Alfred’s side in search of anything Alfred had laying around that he could put to use. With Alfred finally off the cold hard floor, he relaxed, but only slightly; his condition was still light years from stable. Practically dragging the whole bathroom mirror with him, Arthur returned to Alfred’s side. Sifting through the different medicines, Arthur pulled a blanket over the now shivering Alfred. Once again, Arthur left the bedside for something else, and when he returned, Alfred had kicked off the blankets. Arthur stepped to the bedside, placing the glass of cool water upon Alfred’s bedside table, then sat on the edge of the soft mattress. Over the course of several weeks, Arthur stayed in America to take care of the struggling Alfred. Occasionally he would call home to discuss events with his boss, and speak with the queen. His presence was missed at home, but his priorities were deeply rooted in his mind. Nursing the aching representative back to heath, Arthur used all the old remedies he recalled, as well as modern ones. In the evenings, Arthur would sit in bed with Alfred, petting his hair, and encouraging him to take sips of water. Slowly, Alfred recovered. One day, Arthur awoke to find his dear friend using his stomach as a pillow; the silly action brought a smile to the Brit’s face. A clear sign that Alfred was getting better was his occasional remarks about Arthur’s fuzzy eyebrows. As Alfred started to move around his home on his own, Arthur began preparations to return to England. Being in such close proximity to the ill American had gotten the Englishman feeling unwell, and he did not wish to give the sickness right back to Alfred after working so hard to get him back in good health. “Do you think you can take care of yourself now?” Arthur asked, concern laced in his voice. An Arrogant grin formed on the still unwell American’s face. But Arthur pressed on. “You’ve lost a lot of weight. I could stay for a few more days…” “You worry too much. A hero can’t be bedridden for so long. I just need to get outside and move around. Just you watch, this hero isn’t going to let some lowly recession put him down.”
Dreaming of Reality pt. 3
anonymous
August 10 2009, 02:06:40 UTC
However, not long after Arthur left, Alfred dragged himself to England with a head cold, seeking the kind touches and gentle concerned attitude that Arthur had given him not too long ago. Before stepping up to Arthur’s house, Alfred stood mystified. Something was different, though he could not put his finger on just what had changed. For the longest time, he simply stood at the edge of Arthur’s driveway, gawking at the great castle like house. An eerie wind blew, as if pushing Alfred towards the home. Spooked, he quickly scurried up the driveway to the door. Using the knocker attached to the door, he knocked. “A…Arthur!” he called out, masking his slight nervousness. Arthur answered the door, surprise riddling his face. “Alfred?” he questioned, “What are you doing here?” “Ahah. I wasn’t feeling well and I wanted to-“ he started but stopped, staring past Arthur. The bold expression on the American’s face shifted to absolute disbelief. He had seen something, or at least thought he saw something. With a shake of his head, he forced the thoughts from his mind. Meanwhile, Arthur stood, confused, and unamused over being interrupted. “Well?” he prompted. Still slightly stunned, Alfred removed his glasses and cleaned them with a smile. “I thought we could have lunch together.” A soft giggle sounded near Alfred’s ear and he quickly turned, tensing in fright. Alfred’s strange actions were curious to the Englishman, who promptly dragged him into the house. The deeper he was pulled into Arthur’s house, the more paranoid and rigid Alfred seemed to get. His eyes darted from one corner of the room to the other, then the ceiling, and then as if following a fly as it buzzed around the room. Sitting him down, Arthur popped a thermometer into his mouth. “You’re sick again,” he declared, assuming the reasoning behind Alfred’s visit. As he sat with the thermometer under his tongue, he stared off into the distance. Withdrawing the thermometer and looking at it, Arthur frowned. “No fever,” he murmured, shaking the thermometer and analyzing his stressed out friend. A sudden gentle smile came to his face and he touched Alfred’s cheek. Arthur’s hand was soft, warm, refreshing. Bright blue eyes slowly trailed up to meet Arthur’s brilliant emerald orbs. Alfred knew what he was seeing, but he couldn’t admit to it; not after mocking Arthur for so long. “I must be sicker than I thought,” concluded Alfred, thinking “Yes…that’s it. I’m just seeing things… just my imagination; that, and this nasty cold medicine.” Forcing a smile, Alfred was comforted by the calm expression of his older friend. Alfred’s hand met Arthur’s as both stared silently for several moments. Then, in a hushed, mumbled voice, Alfred said, “Thanks for the help.” Arthur’s eyes widened. At first, he thought his ears had played a trick on him. He eased closer, coming nose to nose with Alfred. The American’s face reddened, and Arthur murmured, “You are still sick.” “I am not,” protested Alfred, pushing Arthur’s ridiculously close face away from his own. Being pushed back, Arthur grabbed hold of the American’s hand. Alfred stood, pulled by Arthur. “Alright. You aren’t sick, I’ll give you that. And you’re welcome. You get me nervous when you don’t say anything about your health.” The slight blush on Alfred’s face darkened. Arthur only smiled, beginning to walk through the halls of his home; his hand clutching Alfred’s the whole while. “Good afternoon, Arthur~” faeries chirped and giggled as Arthur and Alfred passed them, “Where are you going today?” But Arthur, knowing how much Alfred enjoyed mocking him over his fantastical friends, kept silent, blatantly ignoring them so long as Alfred was in his room. Curious, the faeries followed after, trailing shimmering dust as they flew gracefully through the air. Alfred nervously looked over his shoulder at the following faeries. At once they all stopped and stared right back, then began to whisper to one another.
Dreaming of Reality pt. 4
anonymous
August 10 2009, 02:14:46 UTC
Arthur guided Alfred into his bedroom, releasing him upon entering. He then loosened his tie, stretching an arm out towards the ceiling. “Hnn...” he groaned. But Alfred was distracted, staring off into space again. “You alright?” Arthur asked, still concerned. “Huh?” murmured Alfred, his eyes set staring elsewhere. Immediately Arthur grabbed the collar of Alfred’s shirt, tugging him closer and finally attaining his attention.”You came to see me, didn’t you? So stop marveling over the architecture already.” “Ah-Arthur,” Alfred murmured, as if leading up to something. The Englishmen quieted himself, staring intently, waiting for Alfred to continue. “When… I got here… that is… you were here…and then I… and there were…” Alfred rambled, muttering fragments of his thoughts as he failed to complete his phrasing. Gradually, Arthur grew tired of the nonsensical rambling and caught Alfred’s face in his hands. Almost immediately, Alfred was silenced by a kiss, followed by a soft groan from the other man. Alfred’s eyes closed and he sank into the kiss, taking comfort in the gentle show of affection; but, it was short lived as Arthur pulled away, chuckling, “I know what you want to say. Now I know why you came here… Alright.” “Hnn?” noised Alfred, not entirely certain of what Arthur meant, yet he didn’t struggle as Arthur pulled him into bed. Arthur laid Alfred on his back, gently petting him, leaving delicate kisses on his neck. The room soon grew hot, and humid, filled with a heated energy that Alfred had never experienced before. Clothes were removed, yet it only seemed to grow hotter. First was Alfred’s jacket, which slipped off his shoulders with ease. Arthur then unbuttoned the shirt hidden underneath, trailing kisses on Alfred’s skin as it was uncovered. Arthur loomed over Alfred, his hands at the American’s belt. Slowly, he loosened it, following up by unbuttoning and unzipping the restrictive garment. Any other day, Alfred would be watching with the dumb look he always got when excited; but, this time, he only stared, as if concerned by Arthur’s actions. The pants were pulled away from Alfred’s body, bringing blushes to both the men’s cheeks. Alfred closed his eyes, as he felt his Arthur’s hands upon his body. A gasp escaped from his lips. “Ah-Arthur,” he stammered. He let his head rest against the bed as Arthur brought his lips close to the skin of his neck. “Mmm… relax,” coaxed Arthur, but Alfred responded with a nervous groan. Arthur only smiled, bringing his lips to Alfred’s body again. Lower and lower he kissed until he reached the Alfred’s groin. His lips closed around Alfred’s organ, bringing forth yet another gasp. Arthur smiled as he bobbed his head up and down slowly, making Alfred grow even harder. “Hnn~” Alfred noised, lifting his head to stare at Arthur. What he saw slightly disturbed him. A little faerie was standing on his waist, pushing against Arthur’s forehead. Several more faeries were pulling at Arthur’s hair, then pushing his head back down when it was lifted. The faeries giggled and whispered. “Oh Arthur.” “Look at Alfred, he’s so red~” “Heehee. He’s adorable.” “Don’t forget to breathe, Arthur~” After hearing the faeries talking to Arthur, Alfred snapped. He sat up quickly and shoved Arthur away; faeries and all. Hand then covered his erection to hide it from sight as he curled up slightly. Arthur was shocked and flustered. Staring in utter confusion, Arthur wondered just what he had done to deserve such treatment. “Y-You… You let them coach you?! You let them watch!!?” Alfred shouted. “I can’t do it; not anymore. Not with them watching!” All went silent. The faeries and Arthur all stared at Alfred with wide stunned eyes. “Alfred? W-Who are you talking about?” Arthur stammered. Tugging a blanket over his waist, Alfred pointed to the faeries that hung in the air around Arthur’s head. “Th-Them! I see them… I hear them.”
Dreaming of Reality pt. 5
anonymous
August 10 2009, 02:21:42 UTC
Arthur and the faeries looked to one another. Then a small smile snuck onto Arthur’s face. “You can see them? Really?” Receiving a nod, Arthur suddenly leaped on top of Alfred and hugged him tightly, laughing joyously. “Alfred! I’m so happy! You can actually see them!” Pulling away, Arthur stared at Alfred. It was the happiest he had ever seen the Englishman in his life. Suddenly, Arthur turned his head and called out, “Peaseblossom, Cobweb, Moth, Mustardseed, come here.” Alfred paled. Arthur had summoned the faeries and each one flew over happily. Alfred let out a soft whine, having not wanted to be formally introduced to them, but he had little choice. Seeing how happy this made Arthur, Alfred sat through the awkward feeling in his gut. Peaseblossom, a pale young Faerie with a dress of pink flower petals was the first Arthur introduced to Alfred. Her red hair cupped her face as she smiled cutely at the American. Freckled with pinks, reds, and whites, her wings shimmered. She was one of the faeries that had been pulling Arthur’s hair. Next came Cobweb. With hair as black as the raven’s feathers and looked just as soft. She was garbed in a dark purple skirt, with a matching top made from some high quality silk; probably spun from spider webs. Her little tummy was exposed, showing off her tiny bellybutton. Had she been human sized, and not had wings resembling spider’s legs protruding from her back, she would be perfect for a lingerie model. Cobweb had been one of the faeries that helped to push Arthur’s head back down. After Cobweb, Arthur presented Alfred with Mustardseed. Shyly, she came forth. Her little yellow dress made from blossoms covered most of her legs. Strings of green vine grew down her arms and legs. The golden hair upon her head licked at her lower back as she danced to Alfred. Her shy smile even made Alfred blush faintly. Her wings resembled those of a butterfly’s; soft, colorful, and glamorous. Lastly there was Moth. This devious little Faerie had been the one that was standing on his waist, helping Arthur to lift his head and reminded him to breathe. His skin was almost gray, but glistened brilliantly when light hit it just right. Much like Cobweb, his loincloth was a rich purple, as was his hair. His wings were much larger with intricate designs upon them; they were quite a sight to behold. “I would love to show you Titania. She’s beautiful. I bet you would like her. Oh and if you see a faerie with a ponytail, top hat, and leaves surrounding his body, stay away from him. That’s Puck. He likes stirring up trouble and using magic on humans. Oberon is more than likely lurking around here though…” Arthur explained, smiling brightly all the while. Such a smile brought a sick, guilty feeling into the pit of Alfred’s stomach. All this time, he had mocked and made fun of Arthur in regards to the faeries, unicorns, and spirits he spoke with. Alfred honestly never believed them to be real. Arthur touched his forehead to Alfred’s, bringing a blush to Alfred’s cheeks once again, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was watching him. “Ar-Arthur…” Alfred stuttered, “Can’t… you make them leave?” “No. It’s not like I control them. They do what they want,” explained Arthur. “I have no power over them. I can ask them, but that doesn’t mean they will listen.” That answer received a desperate whine, which was quieted by a gentle kiss.
Looking back on it, it seemed more like a dream than anything. Alfred stared at Arthur. The magical aura Alfred had felt around Arthur before was gone, as were all the faeries he had seen surrounding him. Unsure whether what had happened was real, Alfred assured Arthur that he couldn’t see anything; such a claim hurt the Englishman. For several weeks, they never spoke to one another.
Writer!Anon is sorry for the formatting fail!! But a easier to read and de-Anon'd version of this story will be posted up in the Hetalia Comm soon!
Re: Dreaming of Reality pt. 5
anonymous
August 10 2009, 13:47:57 UTC
Although the story itself fill the request perfectly and it was well written, I felt the ending was an abrupt one. Prior to the last paragraph, description was rich and the emotion and action of each character were thoroughly explored. However by the time the last paragraph was read, it feels like all the feelings were rush (I suspect you wished to finish sooner?).
Perhaps an Epilogue could better explain the disappointment felt by England and the confusion for America?
I hope you find this opinion somewhat helpful anon, I do commend you for filling this and I am grateful for the story.
The front door of Alfred’s home was wide open, the first troubling fact Arthur noted upon his arrival. Making his way hastily into the house, he was met with utter silence. The stifling, still air smelt stagnant. Arthur tried to remain calm, but the mounting concern within his mind urged him to rush. Going from room to room, he called out for Alfred. Panting in his panicked state, he fell silent as he entered the master bedroom, Alfred’s room.
Seeing Alfred unconscious, undressed, save for a towel around his waist, and face down on the floor, Arthur feared the worst. Wasting little time, Arthur went to his friend, knelt, and lifts Alfred off the ground. Dampened from sweat, clammy to the touch, with labored breathing, Alfred’s life drifted closer to extinction. Alfred needed medical attention and fast. Taking his dear friend into his arms, Arthur took on the duty of healing the American.
Arthur carried Alfred to the large spacious bed, laying him gently on top of the covers. Dark circles surrounded the American’s eyes which stayed shut no matter how much Arthur shook him. Just seeing Alfred in such a rundown state made Arthur woozy, but he knew that he would need to fight it if Alfred had any hope to live. Knowing the American was well versed in the field of medicine, Arthur left Alfred’s side in search of anything Alfred had laying around that he could put to use.
With Alfred finally off the cold hard floor, he relaxed, but only slightly; his condition was still light years from stable. Practically dragging the whole bathroom mirror with him, Arthur returned to Alfred’s side. Sifting through the different medicines, Arthur pulled a blanket over the now shivering Alfred. Once again, Arthur left the bedside for something else, and when he returned, Alfred had kicked off the blankets. Arthur stepped to the bedside, placing the glass of cool water upon Alfred’s bedside table, then sat on the edge of the soft mattress.
Over the course of several weeks, Arthur stayed in America to take care of the struggling Alfred. Occasionally he would call home to discuss events with his boss, and speak with the queen. His presence was missed at home, but his priorities were deeply rooted in his mind. Nursing the aching representative back to heath, Arthur used all the old remedies he recalled, as well as modern ones. In the evenings, Arthur would sit in bed with Alfred, petting his hair, and encouraging him to take sips of water. Slowly, Alfred recovered.
One day, Arthur awoke to find his dear friend using his stomach as a pillow; the silly action brought a smile to the Brit’s face. A clear sign that Alfred was getting better was his occasional remarks about Arthur’s fuzzy eyebrows. As Alfred started to move around his home on his own, Arthur began preparations to return to England. Being in such close proximity to the ill American had gotten the Englishman feeling unwell, and he did not wish to give the sickness right back to Alfred after working so hard to get him back in good health.
“Do you think you can take care of yourself now?” Arthur asked, concern laced in his voice. An Arrogant grin formed on the still unwell American’s face. But Arthur pressed on. “You’ve lost a lot of weight. I could stay for a few more days…”
“You worry too much. A hero can’t be bedridden for so long. I just need to get outside and move around. Just you watch, this hero isn’t going to let some lowly recession put him down.”
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Arthur answered the door, surprise riddling his face. “Alfred?” he questioned, “What are you doing here?”
“Ahah. I wasn’t feeling well and I wanted to-“ he started but stopped, staring past Arthur. The bold expression on the American’s face shifted to absolute disbelief. He had seen something, or at least thought he saw something. With a shake of his head, he forced the thoughts from his mind. Meanwhile, Arthur stood, confused, and unamused over being interrupted. “Well?” he prompted.
Still slightly stunned, Alfred removed his glasses and cleaned them with a smile. “I thought we could have lunch together.” A soft giggle sounded near Alfred’s ear and he quickly turned, tensing in fright. Alfred’s strange actions were curious to the Englishman, who promptly dragged him into the house. The deeper he was pulled into Arthur’s house, the more paranoid and rigid Alfred seemed to get. His eyes darted from one corner of the room to the other, then the ceiling, and then as if following a fly as it buzzed around the room. Sitting him down, Arthur popped a thermometer into his mouth. “You’re sick again,” he declared, assuming the reasoning behind Alfred’s visit.
As he sat with the thermometer under his tongue, he stared off into the distance. Withdrawing the thermometer and looking at it, Arthur frowned. “No fever,” he murmured, shaking the thermometer and analyzing his stressed out friend. A sudden gentle smile came to his face and he touched Alfred’s cheek.
Arthur’s hand was soft, warm, refreshing. Bright blue eyes slowly trailed up to meet Arthur’s brilliant emerald orbs. Alfred knew what he was seeing, but he couldn’t admit to it; not after mocking Arthur for so long. “I must be sicker than I thought,” concluded Alfred, thinking “Yes…that’s it. I’m just seeing things… just my imagination; that, and this nasty cold medicine.”
Forcing a smile, Alfred was comforted by the calm expression of his older friend. Alfred’s hand met Arthur’s as both stared silently for several moments. Then, in a hushed, mumbled voice, Alfred said, “Thanks for the help.” Arthur’s eyes widened. At first, he thought his ears had played a trick on him. He eased closer, coming nose to nose with Alfred. The American’s face reddened, and Arthur murmured, “You are still sick.”
“I am not,” protested Alfred, pushing Arthur’s ridiculously close face away from his own. Being pushed back, Arthur grabbed hold of the American’s hand. Alfred stood, pulled by Arthur. “Alright. You aren’t sick, I’ll give you that. And you’re welcome. You get me nervous when you don’t say anything about your health.” The slight blush on Alfred’s face darkened. Arthur only smiled, beginning to walk through the halls of his home; his hand clutching Alfred’s the whole while.
“Good afternoon, Arthur~” faeries chirped and giggled as Arthur and Alfred passed them, “Where are you going today?” But Arthur, knowing how much Alfred enjoyed mocking him over his fantastical friends, kept silent, blatantly ignoring them so long as Alfred was in his room. Curious, the faeries followed after, trailing shimmering dust as they flew gracefully through the air. Alfred nervously looked over his shoulder at the following faeries. At once they all stopped and stared right back, then began to whisper to one another.
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“Huh?” murmured Alfred, his eyes set staring elsewhere. Immediately Arthur grabbed the collar of Alfred’s shirt, tugging him closer and finally attaining his attention.”You came to see me, didn’t you? So stop marveling over the architecture already.”
“Ah-Arthur,” Alfred murmured, as if leading up to something. The Englishmen quieted himself, staring intently, waiting for Alfred to continue. “When… I got here… that is… you were here…and then I… and there were…” Alfred rambled, muttering fragments of his thoughts as he failed to complete his phrasing. Gradually, Arthur grew tired of the nonsensical rambling and caught Alfred’s face in his hands. Almost immediately, Alfred was silenced by a kiss, followed by a soft groan from the other man.
Alfred’s eyes closed and he sank into the kiss, taking comfort in the gentle show of affection; but, it was short lived as Arthur pulled away, chuckling, “I know what you want to say. Now I know why you came here… Alright.”
“Hnn?” noised Alfred, not entirely certain of what Arthur meant, yet he didn’t struggle as Arthur pulled him into bed. Arthur laid Alfred on his back, gently petting him, leaving delicate kisses on his neck. The room soon grew hot, and humid, filled with a heated energy that Alfred had never experienced before. Clothes were removed, yet it only seemed to grow hotter. First was Alfred’s jacket, which slipped off his shoulders with ease. Arthur then unbuttoned the shirt hidden underneath, trailing kisses on Alfred’s skin as it was uncovered.
Arthur loomed over Alfred, his hands at the American’s belt. Slowly, he loosened it, following up by unbuttoning and unzipping the restrictive garment. Any other day, Alfred would be watching with the dumb look he always got when excited; but, this time, he only stared, as if concerned by Arthur’s actions.
The pants were pulled away from Alfred’s body, bringing blushes to both the men’s cheeks. Alfred closed his eyes, as he felt his Arthur’s hands upon his body. A gasp escaped from his lips. “Ah-Arthur,” he stammered. He let his head rest against the bed as Arthur brought his lips close to the skin of his neck.
“Mmm… relax,” coaxed Arthur, but Alfred responded with a nervous groan. Arthur only smiled, bringing his lips to Alfred’s body again. Lower and lower he kissed until he reached the Alfred’s groin. His lips closed around Alfred’s organ, bringing forth yet another gasp. Arthur smiled as he bobbed his head up and down slowly, making Alfred grow even harder. “Hnn~” Alfred noised, lifting his head to stare at Arthur. What he saw slightly disturbed him.
A little faerie was standing on his waist, pushing against Arthur’s forehead. Several more faeries were pulling at Arthur’s hair, then pushing his head back down when it was lifted. The faeries giggled and whispered. “Oh Arthur.” “Look at Alfred, he’s so red~” “Heehee. He’s adorable.” “Don’t forget to breathe, Arthur~”
After hearing the faeries talking to Arthur, Alfred snapped. He sat up quickly and shoved Arthur away; faeries and all. Hand then covered his erection to hide it from sight as he curled up slightly. Arthur was shocked and flustered. Staring in utter confusion, Arthur wondered just what he had done to deserve such treatment.
“Y-You… You let them coach you?! You let them watch!!?” Alfred shouted. “I can’t do it; not anymore. Not with them watching!” All went silent. The faeries and Arthur all stared at Alfred with wide stunned eyes. “Alfred? W-Who are you talking about?” Arthur stammered. Tugging a blanket over his waist, Alfred pointed to the faeries that hung in the air around Arthur’s head. “Th-Them! I see them… I hear them.”
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Suddenly, Arthur turned his head and called out, “Peaseblossom, Cobweb, Moth, Mustardseed, come here.” Alfred paled. Arthur had summoned the faeries and each one flew over happily. Alfred let out a soft whine, having not wanted to be formally introduced to them, but he had little choice. Seeing how happy this made Arthur, Alfred sat through the awkward feeling in his gut.
Peaseblossom, a pale young Faerie with a dress of pink flower petals was the first Arthur introduced to Alfred. Her red hair cupped her face as she smiled cutely at the American. Freckled with pinks, reds, and whites, her wings shimmered. She was one of the faeries that had been pulling Arthur’s hair.
Next came Cobweb. With hair as black as the raven’s feathers and looked just as soft. She was garbed in a dark purple skirt, with a matching top made from some high quality silk; probably spun from spider webs. Her little tummy was exposed, showing off her tiny bellybutton. Had she been human sized, and not had wings resembling spider’s legs protruding from her back, she would be perfect for a lingerie model. Cobweb had been one of the faeries that helped to push Arthur’s head back down.
After Cobweb, Arthur presented Alfred with Mustardseed. Shyly, she came forth. Her little yellow dress made from blossoms covered most of her legs. Strings of green vine grew down her arms and legs. The golden hair upon her head licked at her lower back as she danced to Alfred. Her shy smile even made Alfred blush faintly. Her wings resembled those of a butterfly’s; soft, colorful, and glamorous.
Lastly there was Moth. This devious little Faerie had been the one that was standing on his waist, helping Arthur to lift his head and reminded him to breathe. His skin was almost gray, but glistened brilliantly when light hit it just right. Much like Cobweb, his loincloth was a rich purple, as was his hair. His wings were much larger with intricate designs upon them; they were quite a sight to behold.
“I would love to show you Titania. She’s beautiful. I bet you would like her. Oh and if you see a faerie with a ponytail, top hat, and leaves surrounding his body, stay away from him. That’s Puck. He likes stirring up trouble and using magic on humans. Oberon is more than likely lurking around here though…” Arthur explained, smiling brightly all the while. Such a smile brought a sick, guilty feeling into the pit of Alfred’s stomach. All this time, he had mocked and made fun of Arthur in regards to the faeries, unicorns, and spirits he spoke with. Alfred honestly never believed them to be real.
Arthur touched his forehead to Alfred’s, bringing a blush to Alfred’s cheeks once again, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was watching him. “Ar-Arthur…” Alfred stuttered, “Can’t… you make them leave?”
“No. It’s not like I control them. They do what they want,” explained Arthur. “I have no power over them. I can ask them, but that doesn’t mean they will listen.” That answer received a desperate whine, which was quieted by a gentle kiss.
Looking back on it, it seemed more like a dream than anything. Alfred stared at Arthur. The magical aura Alfred had felt around Arthur before was gone, as were all the faeries he had seen surrounding him. Unsure whether what had happened was real, Alfred assured Arthur that he couldn’t see anything; such a claim hurt the Englishman. For several weeks, they never spoke to one another.
Writer!Anon is sorry for the formatting fail!! But a easier to read and de-Anon'd version of this story will be posted up in the Hetalia Comm soon!
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Perhaps an Epilogue could better explain the disappointment felt by England and the confusion for America?
I hope you find this opinion somewhat helpful anon, I do commend you for filling this and I am grateful for the story.
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