derp derp! Just some boring notes for boringness. warning: dub-con/non-con as requested! This may contain uncomfortable concepts and themes that may be handled indelicately, and messages that may be problematic! But it is all in the request. Other than that, I hope you like it!
1.
When Alfred walked into the world meeting, he had a slightly deranged look in his eyes and a shit-eating grin on his face. His arm was held cockily at an angle, the final days of his cast finally wearing off. If he stretched his grin too far, his missing teeth became apparent; the bruises on his face were finally fading, the violent purpling receding to blemishes.
He planted his fist on the map at the front of the room, and began his speech, a bellowing, hot-red angry speech, and it contained big words and small words and cocky words, but there was a disturbing undercurrent shifting beneath him that Arthur couldn’t quite understand. Arthur had stood up instinctively when he saw the injured nation stagger into the room, and despite himself, he adjusted himself impatiently in the chair all throughout the meeting. Their relationship had always been-special-and now, more than ever, did he want to pull Alfred aside to a quiet, empty room, ask him if he was all right now, if he really felt well enough, how were his injuries. Oh, yes, he could already hear Alfred telling him off for being patronizing, but he was worried.
The increasing threats, the high tension, it almost reminded him of the Cold War, except the weapons were no longer in Russia’s hands, but in anybody’s hands. It was enough to drive anyone downright barmy, but he worried about Alfred. Over the days, Alfred had seemed more and more strained after the last attack, and he could be found during meetings scribbling on the desk, muttering under his breath, acting aggressively to anyone who approached.
But it was all right, since it was Alfred. And Alfred would turn out all right.
“And the UK.”
Arthur blinked, and stared at the map, where the screen had changed to where the island off the Continent was suddenly flooded in red.
“Pardon-“
“Pay attention already, you old geezer.” His laughing words seemed to have less laugh in them as he tilted back his head, Nantucket wiggling in the air. “It’s okay. Everything’s going to be okay.” He ran his hand through his hair.
“Are you-stationing your troops-in me?” Arthur was taken aback.
“Why?” Alfred looked at him, and his clouded blue eyes flashed angrily, stormy weather approaching. “Do you have a problem with it? Are you hiding something?”
“I’m not hiding anything,” he insisted violently, standing up, “But why me? I’ve been on your side, I’m the one who set up the campaign, I’m the one-“
“Buying my trust.” Alfred laughed shortly. “And look how well that’s going. Come on, Arty. You have nothing to hide, do you? It’s not even that many. Barely a dent in my forces. Just a small amount, bing-bang-boom. Are you seriously going to refuse?”
An image of a sweet face smiled up at him, golden-blonde locks under the sunset, a small palm in his large hand. He stared down at his hands now, balled up into fists, angry, white, small, bones jutting violently on his knuckles.
“Security,” he said in a soft voice.
“What?”
“Just as a small security measure,” he said resentfully. “But no more than those that you numbered. All right?” He could tell by France’s shift in body language, Switzerland’s increased scowl, to even Germany’s brows drawn together, that this decision seemed irregular and hasty. But they didn’t understand his secret, his terrible secret that lay within him, coiled angrily like a snake at the bottom of his stomach, and nobody could find out.
“All right.” Alfred tossed his head back, his row of white teeth flashing in and out as he laughed. “Yeah, all right. Just that. Thanks, Arty.”
And his secret stirred within the pits of his stomach.
Re: monster [1/?]
anonymous
February 2 2011, 10:07:16 UTC
dear anon！ I know it's probably a little late to ask but I really appreciate this wonderful story that I want to ask for your permission of translating it! Since I don't know who you are I don't know if you will see this or not...Wish myself good luck! Waiting for your answer~
1.
When Alfred walked into the world meeting, he had a slightly deranged look in his eyes and a shit-eating grin on his face. His arm was held cockily at an angle, the final days of his cast finally wearing off. If he stretched his grin too far, his missing teeth became apparent; the bruises on his face were finally fading, the violent purpling receding to blemishes.
He planted his fist on the map at the front of the room, and began his speech, a bellowing, hot-red angry speech, and it contained big words and small words and cocky words, but there was a disturbing undercurrent shifting beneath him that Arthur couldn’t quite understand. Arthur had stood up instinctively when he saw the injured nation stagger into the room, and despite himself, he adjusted himself impatiently in the chair all throughout the meeting. Their relationship had always been-special-and now, more than ever, did he want to pull Alfred aside to a quiet, empty room, ask him if he was all right now, if he really felt well enough, how were his injuries. Oh, yes, he could already hear Alfred telling him off for being patronizing, but he was worried.
The increasing threats, the high tension, it almost reminded him of the Cold War, except the weapons were no longer in Russia’s hands, but in anybody’s hands. It was enough to drive anyone downright barmy, but he worried about Alfred. Over the days, Alfred had seemed more and more strained after the last attack, and he could be found during meetings scribbling on the desk, muttering under his breath, acting aggressively to anyone who approached.
But it was all right, since it was Alfred. And Alfred would turn out all right.
“And the UK.”
Arthur blinked, and stared at the map, where the screen had changed to where the island off the Continent was suddenly flooded in red.
“Pardon-“
“Pay attention already, you old geezer.” His laughing words seemed to have less laugh in them as he tilted back his head, Nantucket wiggling in the air. “It’s okay. Everything’s going to be okay.” He ran his hand through his hair.
“Are you-stationing your troops-in me?” Arthur was taken aback.
“Why?” Alfred looked at him, and his clouded blue eyes flashed angrily, stormy weather approaching. “Do you have a problem with it? Are you hiding something?”
“I’m not hiding anything,” he insisted violently, standing up, “But why me? I’ve been on your side, I’m the one who set up the campaign, I’m the one-“
“Buying my trust.” Alfred laughed shortly. “And look how well that’s going. Come on, Arty. You have nothing to hide, do you? It’s not even that many. Barely a dent in my forces. Just a small amount, bing-bang-boom. Are you seriously going to refuse?”
An image of a sweet face smiled up at him, golden-blonde locks under the sunset, a small palm in his large hand. He stared down at his hands now, balled up into fists, angry, white, small, bones jutting violently on his knuckles.
“Security,” he said in a soft voice.
“What?”
“Just as a small security measure,” he said resentfully. “But no more than those that you numbered. All right?” He could tell by France’s shift in body language, Switzerland’s increased scowl, to even Germany’s brows drawn together, that this decision seemed irregular and hasty. But they didn’t understand his secret, his terrible secret that lay within him, coiled angrily like a snake at the bottom of his stomach, and nobody could find out.
“All right.” Alfred tossed his head back, his row of white teeth flashing in and out as he laughed. “Yeah, all right. Just that. Thanks, Arty.”
And his secret stirred within the pits of his stomach.
Reply
I know it's probably a little late to ask but I really appreciate this wonderful story that I want to ask for your permission of translating it!
Since I don't know who you are I don't know if you will see this or not...Wish myself good luck!
Waiting for your answer~
Reply
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