You Wish (7.5a/?) aka: the part Portugal didn't hear, aka: the additional smut
anonymous
November 2 2010, 21:43:53 UTC
You may be wondering: Did I die?! The answer is no, I just went to university. Which is pretty much the same thing. BUT, I shall not abandon this fill! And with midterms over, I'll hopefully be able to get back to it...a bit. No promises of fast updates, but I swear I will keep working on it! In addition, I hope to have the next actual story part up sometime this week. I hope. -
“I will never doubt again,” Arthur promised, fingers locking with Alfred’s.
“There will never be a need.”
They kissed, the kiss of lost lovers, tender and loving and gentle. Arthur sighed his relief against Alfred’s mouth, pulling the man closer with grateful arms. Alfred’s arm wrapped around him in turn, lifting Arthur from the ground to press them closer together. His hands skimmed over Arthur’s arms and sides to reacquaint himself with the smaller man’s body.
“I’ve missed you,” Alfred told him softly, lips parting from Arthur’s for breath and little else. The smaller blonde clutched at him in reply, one hand slipping into Alfred’s hair to anchor them together.
“I know,” Arthur breathed into a kiss. “I need you. Now, please, for…so I…please, Alfred.” The words weren’t coming out, but the intent was there. Alfred nodded in understanding anyway, and his hands were immediately under the edge of Arthur’s shirt, rediscovering everything.
Arthur groaned, blissful in the feeling of his lover’s hands on him again after so long needing and being unable to have him. Alfred’s fingers spread up and past Arthur’s stomach, pushing his effeminate shirt into bunches over his chest. Arthur relinquished his claim on Alfred’s lips only to let him move on to abusing the skin of Arthur’s neck.
The smaller man tried not to squirm, but his body wanted so badly to press up into Alfred and destroy any space between them. Alfred encouraged the movement with a hand under Arthur’s nearly-naked torso, still leaving marks all over his lover’s throat. One particular spot was remembered and Arthur clawed into the fabric of Alfred shirt, gasping as little shocks invaded his system, numbing him to anything but pleasure.
For as much as he loved and missed Alfred in the everyday, he also loved and missed this aspect of him. Arthur was sure no one in the world could touch him like Alfred, could light up his insides with a brush of fingers or the simple press of lips on his skin. Arthur always held himself above pleading, but now, in this moment of reunion, there was no waiting, and he wasn’t ashamed to beg Alfred to move on faster.
He didn’t entirely obey, lingering for a moment between Arthur’s clavicle and breast bone, but after a second, he leaned up, pressed a kiss to Arthur’s mouth, and gave him three words. Arthur felt his eyes slip closed, smiling blissfully. His shirt was lifted over his head, and Arthur sat up to pull at the lacing holding Alfred’s together. Within seconds, they were both naked from the waist up, and Arthur tugged his lover forward, making their skin meet in as many points as he could.
Alfred was a little different compared to the day he left. He’d never been weak, and had certainly always been a treat to look at, but now there was a sharp edge to his looks. His body was solid, muscled in place of the traces of baby fat he’d had on the farm, and feeling that power bending to him made Arthur’s blood sing. It was still Alfred, who loved him and was sweet and kind and determined, but he had another layer now, some danger in him that Arthur was restless to explore.
You Wish (7.5b/?) aka: the part Portugal didn't hear, aka: the additional smut
anonymous
November 2 2010, 21:45:47 UTC
So intent was he on exploring the physical manifestation of Alfred’s new self, Arthur didn’t notice his trousers being opened until Alfred’s hand was inside them, cupping him and teasing his flesh. He moaned, unabashedly, and arched into Alfred’s touch. Oh, he would not last very long at all.
“You’ve hardly even touched yourself while I was gone, have you?” The dark, pleased tone in Alfred’s voice made Arthur shudder while he nodded, unable to form words. His mind was far too focused on the clever fingers stroking over him.
“God…Alfred, please. Don’t make me wait any longer.” He could feel Alfred’s arousal against his leg, so there was no denying they were both incredibly reactive. Arthur also felt the same kind of jealous satisfaction that it meant Alfred had waited and saved himself for Arthur. That, or he was experiencing similar intense emotions, thrilled and overwhelmed to have his love returned just as Arthur was.
Alfred nodded, and after looking adorably bewildered for a moment, shuffled down until he was eye level with Arthur’s hips. Before Arthur could speak a word of protest, his trousers had been shoved down, and Alfred’s mouth was around him, slowly bringing him deeper with every passing second.
Arthur writhed, fingers twining in Alfred’s hair. Lord, he was exquisite. Alfred had always been a smart mouth, and he knew how to put that big mouth of his to use, torturing Arthur in the best ways. A long stroke of his tongue, finished off with sucking pressure at the head of his arousal, and Arthur gasped, pulling Alfred’s hair until he moved up again where Arthur wanted him.
He shoved their lips together, groaning at the slick feeling of Alfred’s mouth. When Arthur released his lover, Alfred gave him a questioning look, gently rubbing his hands over Arthur’s hips. He didn’t even have to speak for Arthur to understand his confusion.
“I want to feel you,” Arthur said, voice a bit harsh and probably breathy. “I want us…together.”
“But we don’t have anything,” Alfred replied, for once the voice of reason.
“I know.” It had been far too long ago that he’d actually had sex, and though they had nothing else to ease things, trying to make saliva suffice was asking for trouble. Besides, a distant part of Arthur’s mind still remembered there was an insufferable prince after them, and it wouldn’t do to be completely exhausted and then limping through the forests like a useless woman.
“We don’t have to-” Arthur cut himself off, boldly reaching to push Alfred’ trousers out of his way. The larger man groaned as Arthur threw a leg over his hips, bringing their lower halves together. “Just this.”
Alfred nodded in understanding, holding Arthur to him with one hand and letting the other join Arthur’s hand to stroke them both together. Arthur was a bit too battered and still dealing with Alfred rising from the dead to do much more than joyfully accept the pleasure overwhelming him, but Alfred had both the leverage and energy to keep thrusting into their joined hands. All the movement and heat and proof that Alfred was alive, was here with him, made for a drowning sort of ecstasy that washed over Arthur in languid waves.
His lover leaned down to kiss along Arthur’s jaw, all the way to his mouth, breathing love into him, and Arthur stiffened, hips finally pistoning into his and Alfred’s hand as his orgasm shook his body. Surely this was like dying and going to heaven, Arthur thought. He was floating in a peaceful haze of contentment and pleasure. And when he came to, Alfred was there, choking on his own release and whispering Arthur’s name in a high-pitched sigh that completely contrasted his rugged appearance.
Alfred. His love. Returned to him after so long and finally real, panting and petting Arthur’s skin reverently, collapsed against him after a round of lovemaking. Life could be no better.
You Wish (7.5c/?) aka: the part Portugal didn't hear, aka: the additional smut
anonymous
November 2 2010, 21:48:46 UTC
“Five years is too long,” Alfred moaned into his shoulder, pressing his lips against it in a lazy kiss.
“Five days is too long,” Arthur replied, one hand in Alfred’s hair, the other lopped around his back as if afraid he might disappear if Arthur let go.
“Five minutes,” his lover shot back, making a bit of a game out of it, as he leaned up with a spark of easy amusement in his eye.
“Five seconds.” And it had been longer than that since they’d last kisses, and Arthur already wanted him back, so perhaps this time limit was accurate. Either way, Arthur used the hand still in Alfred’s hair and pulled him down for a kiss. It was slow, growing from chaste to open-mouthed and blatantly wanton over a time, with brushing tongues and soft sighs to smooth the transition.
Arthur eventually pulled away, having to hold Alfred in place lest he follow and just keep kissing him until they both ran out of air and expired here in this ravine. It would be a decent way to die, but Arthur wasn’t ready for death yet after having just got Alfred back, not even so sweet a one as dying in Alfred’s embrace. Instead, he kissed the rise of Alfred’s cheek bone, smiling up at him.
“We need to be moving,” he said firmly, no less fondly. “Francis will still be looking for us, and our little tumble has set us on the path toward the Fire Swamp.”
“Little tumble?” Alfred laughed softly. “You pushed me down a cliff, you madman.”
“I thought you were the man who I’d thought killed you,” Arthur defended. “That hardly sounds sensible now, but I was under the impression you were that god awful Roberts pirate.”
“I am.” The ease with which Alfred said it made Arthur suspicious, but his suspicions floated away when Alfred tipped down to kiss him gently. “I’ll explain later,” he promised. “For now, let’s go see what that stupid swamp has to throw at us!”
Oh, he’d missed that enthusiasm. That willingness to give anything a go, and that determination to conquer any challenge. And more than anything, Arthur was glad Alfred had such a stubborn streak. It was what had won him Arthur’s love in the first place, and it was surely what had miraculously brought him back.
“Yes, let’s,” Arthur agreed, half-resigned, half-amused. “But first, we need to, ah, clean up.”
“Of course,” Alfred said, nodding. He reached to take Arthur’s sticky hand in his, lapping at the evidence of their passion. Arthur groaned and shuddered. Thank God they couldn’t go at it again so soon, because Alfred seemed to be an expert at turning him on. He didn’t stop the larger man though, and when both his hand and stomach had been licked clean, Arthur was panting, but determined to move on without getting caught up in Alfred.
“Lovely,” he said, ignoring his own breathlessness and pushing Alfred off of him to fix his clothes. Alfred moved to pull up his own trousers, going after his shirt when that job was done. Arthur watched him shuck the thing on, having already dressed himself. He was secretly glad that Alfred’s mask had been caught somewhere in their fall. He’d rather not have Alfred’s face hidden from him.
Giving up the search for his mask, Alfred came back to him, pulling Arthur to his feet. There was only a half second of silent staring before Arthur cupped Alfred’s face in his hands and kissed him thoroughly, innocently but with all the joy of finally having Alfred back and in his arms. He released his lover and grinned at the dazed, silly smile he got in return, then dropped his hands to clasp one of Alfred’s.
“Let’s get going.”
- Sorry for taking so long! But that's it for the extra smut. Now...back to the story!
For future reference, I googled hetalia kink meme "you wish" us uk", clicked on the first hit, then clicked on the link labeled "You Wish" to find this.
Re: You Wish (7.5c/?) aka: the part Portugal didn't hear, aka: the additional smut
anonymous
November 3 2010, 02:57:32 UTC
OH hello! I'm sorry being at University is sucking your time - but, hey, THIS WAS TOTALLY WORTH IT. :3 I'm glad you're still working on it an I'll be super patient, promise!
You Wish (8a/?)
anonymous
November 3 2010, 04:01:27 UTC
Would just like to say, now that I'm back on, this went SO fast, you wouldn't believe... Hopefully that doesn't mean it's low quality. ^^; Crap, and now I've made myself nervous. fml -
Alfred and Arthur raced along the ravine floor. There were still mountains and forest between them a Francis, and if they were lucky and very fast, they might be able to make it back to civilization before Francis caught up with them. From there, it could be hoped that someone might help them get even further from Florin.
Alfred glanced up, and to both of their surprise, Francis was still loitering somewhere near the top of the cliff, having only moved a bit closer to their original position. Arthur viciously hoped Francis had seen them together. Perhaps it would make him finally give up on trying to keep Arthur for himself.
“Ha!” Alfred laughed shortly. “Your frog fiancé is too late!” He squeezed Arthur’s hand reassuringly in his own. “A few more steps and we’ll be safe in the Fire Swamp.”
Arthur hesitated for the first time. Now that he thought about it, there hadn’t been any survivors who made it out of the Fire Swamp. Would Alfred come back only to get himself and Arthur killed?
“We’ll never survive,” he mumbled, probably sounding a bit melodramatic.
“Nonsense.” And Alfred stopped for a half second to smile at him so brightly, Arthur felt obligated to believe him in anything. “You’re only saying that because no one ever has.”
With that, Alfred pressed an enthusiastic kiss to Arthur’s cheek and tugged him into the tree cover of the Fire Swamp. It didn’t look that bad, Arthur supposed. No worse than any other moist, infernal horror you might expect. Huge trees blocked out the sun in all but a few patches, and the entire place seemed to be filled with insects, buzzing and probably biting everywhere.
Arthur was anything but sure about this next step in their odd adventure, but he was following Alfred’s lead, and he wasn’t about to let go of his love for a second. So he endured.
Alfred didn’t seem to share Arthur’s misgivings. He moved through the ever thickening trees with ease, pulling a dueling sword from his belt and slashing jauntily through the vines hanging in their way. No, not much had changed about him, behind the dark clothes and more rugged good looks. He was still Alfred Jones, the boy able to be cheerful while doing the most horrendous of jobs.
“It’s not that bad,” Alfred commented after a few minutes, earning himself a scoff from Arthur. “I’m not saying I wanna build a summer home here, but the trees are actually kinda cool-looking.”
Arthur shot him a disbelieving look that hoped conveyed the message that despite how much he loved the boy, Arthur was now under the impression Alfred was completely bonkers. Taking a second look at the trees around them, Arthur admitted they had a…an ambiance or something, but they certainly weren’t the lovely kind you could look out purely for aesthetics’ sake.
You Wish (8b/?)
anonymous
November 3 2010, 04:03:04 UTC
Alfred continued happily shoving their way through the swamp, but Arthur suddenly caught a small popping noise, somewhere in the vicinity of his feet. An animal perhaps?
Then a spurt of flame suddenly erupted from the ground, missing Alfred, but quickly crawling up the legs of Arthur’s trousers. Cursing at the ground, Arthur leapt out of the way as the fire settled back down, flailing and toppling into Alfred’s waiting arms. With tight, controlled movements, Alfred deposited him on a relatively stable-looking log.
Arthur held still as Alfred’s hands smothered the little flames still running up his trousers, and tried not to notice that Alfred looked about as panicked as Arthur had felt. Then again, it wasn’t every day your long lost love was set on fire, so Arthur really couldn’t blame him. Eventually, though, the flames were out and Arthur only had a couple of blackened, tattered hems to show for it.
Still, Alfred ran his hands gently up from Arthur’s ankles nearly to his knees. “Well, that was an adventure,” he remarked, smiling again. “Any damage?”
He could very well feel for himself that Arthur’s skin was entirely unblemished, if a bit heated, but Arthur could tell it was a somewhat transparent excuse to run his hands along Arthur’s legs. He was slow, and gentle, and nearly erotic about too, and Arthur couldn’t find it in him for a second to make Alfred stop.
Arthur shook his head in the negative, and, feeling a patch of rough, possibly singed skin brush his knee, asked, “You?”
Alfred copied his head shake, but Arthur stopped him from standing with a hand on his shoulder. With his free hand, he tugged Alfred’s wrist until he could examine the skin on his palms. They were minorly burned, just a bit red, and Arthur leaned down to gently kiss the rise of his palm in a silent thank you. Alfred really was too sweet for his own good sometimes.
The larger man smiled softly up at him from his kneeling position, pulling back his hands and standing with Arthur. They’d gone not two steps before the same popping noise came, and Arthur tugged Alfred by the collar, pulling him out of the way of a shot of flame just before it could hit him.
“Well, one thing I’ll say,” Alfred said on a slight laugh. “The Fire Swap does keep you on your toes.”
Arthur gave him a withering stare. It was all fine and dandy for Alfred to be gallivanting around this place like he owned it, but oneof them had to keep an eye out for dangers. Alfred kissed his cheek softly, somehow managing to convey his apology for being so cavalier, before taking Arthur’s hand in his, linking their fingers in a way that wouldn’t aggravate his burns.
He started to lead the way again, and Arthur vaguely hoped Alfred knew where he was leading them. He voiced his concern a few minutes later when, after tripping over a particularly well-hidden root, he’d become even less fond of this idiotic swamp.
“This will all soon be a happy memory,” Alfred told him reassuringly, rubbing away the tension in Arthur’s body with firm fingers massaging his hand and wrist. “Roberts’ ship, Revenge, is anchored at the far end, a ways past the end of the Swamp. And, as you know, I’m Roberts.”
“But how is that possible?” Arthur asked, pulling his damaged hems out of a bramble on their self-made path. “He’s been marauding twenty years and you only left me five years ago.” He’d also have to be about two years old if Alfred had been Roberts all along.
Alfred opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by the now-familiar popping sound, and stuck his sword into the ground before lifting Arthur with hands around his waist. The smaller man was whirled out of harm’s way and set back on the trail Alfred had been happily chopping through the Swamp.
“Y’see,” Alfred started, once again hacking away at the vines and trees. “What I told you before about saying please was true. It intrigued Roberts, just like me talking about how beautiful you are.”
Arthur flushed only slightly at the casually given compliment, but only nodded in understanding as Alfred went on with his story, diligently hacking at thick vines that (oh so disconcertingly) made halfway sentient groaning noises as they fell.
You Wish (8c/?)
anonymous
November 3 2010, 04:04:48 UTC
“So finally, Roberts decided something,” Alfred went on. “He said, ‘All right, Alfred, I’ve never had a valet. You can try it for tonight. I’ll most likely kill you in the morning.’ Three years he said that. ‘Good night, Al. Good work, sleep well. I’ll most likely kill you in the morning.’”
Alfred paused to laugh, and Arthur had to wonder how he’d ever come to fall in love with such a fortunate fool. Being taken on as part of a pirate crew and surviving three years of death threats only to look back on it with laughter. Perhaps they would make it out of here, with Alfred’s luck.
“It was great time for me. I was learning to fence, to fight, anything anyone would teach me,” Alfred said when he’d finished silently reminiscing for a moment. “And Roberts and I eventually became friends. And then it happened.”
Arthur wasn’t sure if it was just a dramatic pause until the moment stretched longer and he prompted Alfred to go on. Instead, Alfred put his sword in its scabbard for a second, and lifted Arthur into his arms. Arthur allowed it, one arm wrapping around his lover’s neck as he was lifted over a stretch of swamp water that splashed harmlessly against Alfred’s boots, but would have soaked the tattered ends of Arthur’s trousers in stinking wetness.
“Well,” he kept going, carrying Arthur over what looked to be a shallow pond of rancid water. “Roberts had grown so rich, he wanted to retire. So he took me into his cabin and told me his secret. ‘I am not the Dread Pirate Roberts,’ he said.”
Alfred’s dramatic voice dropped a second later as he went on, avoiding a stump nearly concealed by the water. “‘My name is Ryan. I inherited this ship from the previous Dread Pirate Roberts, just as you will inherit it from me.’ The man he inherited it from wasn’t the real Dread Pirate Roberts either. His name was Cummerbund, if you can believe that. Anyway, the real Roberts has been retired fifteen years and is living like a king in Patagonia.”
They’d crossed the water, and Alfred shook the clinging water off his boots, finishing his bit before he would put Arthur down again. “He explained the name was the important thing. To inspire fear and stuff. Because, really, no one would surrender to the Dread Pirate Alfred.”
Arthur was put back on solid ground, and had the fleeting thought that he would surrender anything Alfred wanted, and had to terminate the thought with extreme prejudice. Missing Alfred had evidently turned him into a complete sap, and he’d have to make sure those kinds of things stopped slipping out unbidden before he allowed himself to say whatever came to mind.
“So we sailed ashore, took on an entirely new crew, and he stayed on board for a while as first mate, calling me Roberts the whole time.” Alfred’s hand had slipped easily back into Arthur’s, but he released it to slice a rather thick branch blocking them in half. “Once the crew believed, he left the ship, and I’ve been Roberts ever since.”
He held the remains of the branch out of Arthur’s way as he passed, walking a step or two ahead of Alfred this time.
“Except,” Alfred began, “now that we’re together, I’ll retire and hand the name over to someone else. Was that all clear?”
Arthur nodded, and opened his mouth to reply as he took another step, but his reply turned into a gasp as the ground gave under him and he was suddenly sucked straight down.
You Wish (8d/?)
anonymous
November 3 2010, 04:05:51 UTC
For a second, Alfred panicked. He’d just…okay, he could fix this. Hacking the edge of a vine away from the tree it was looped around, Alfred tugged until it was long enough (he hoped), and got a firm grip on it before diving straight into the sandy area where Arthur had disappeared.
There was no movement, just the vine stretched taut between the tree rooting it and the center of the sand pit. It was long moments before something passed by, looking like a cross between a small bear and a giant rat. It sniffed briefly at the vine, deemed it unworthy of further exploration, then moved on, waddling quickly back into the Swamp.
Not ten seconds later, the ground erupted, a hand shooting out of the sandy middle to grasp at the vine. Lungs past bursting point, the rest of Alfred’s body followed quickly, gasping for air. Clinging to his shoulders, Arthur coughed as well, sand spilling from his lips as he dragged in oxygen. They made it to the edge of the sandy area, both breathing heavily and holding onto each other when they’d reached solid ground.
Arthur panted into Alfred’s shoulder, trying not to sob out of pure frustration. It seemed the universe simply wanted them to be unhappy. First, Alfred had been taken from him, then Francis had…happened, and today he’d nearly killed his love, been set on fire, and had the earth itself try to suffocate him. It just wasn’t fair.
He controlled his breathing when Alfred started to move, clearly intent on getting them further away from the lightning sand. Arthur went willingly, settling with Alfred on the ground a few feet away, and letting him brush the sand away from Arthur’s face where it had caught in his lips, lashes, and eyebrows.
“We’ll never succeed,” Arthur groaned, about ready to drop his head onto Alfred’s shoulder and simply never move again. “We may as well die here.” He knew he sounded overdramatic and possibly ridiculous, but when the world seemed to be so clearly working against them what was the point?
“No,” Alfred said firmly, stroking Arthur’s hair. “No. We’ve already succeeded.” Really, Arthur could kiss him for his optimism. He could kiss him for no reason at all, but with that brilliant smile shining up at him, Arthur felt that Alfred was really earning his affection in the most wonderful ways. So he moved to kiss Alfred deeply, full of gratitude and the unspoken promise that he would keep trying as long as Alfred would.
Alfred pulled him into standing, and started walking again with an arm around Arthur’s waist. The smaller man leaned against him, tired and emotionally drained, and willing to rest his forehead affectionately against Alfred’s shoulder, one hand wrapped into the fabric of his lover’s shirt as if to assure him they were both still here, together.
“I mean, what are the three terrors of the Fire Swamp?” he asked rhetorically. “One, the flame spurts. No problem. There’s popping noises before that happens, so we know when it’s coming. Two, the lightning sand. But you discovered what it looks like, so in the future, we can avoid that too.”
A bit relieved by Alfred’s cheesy grinning, Arthur punched his arm lightly, still half-snuggled against Alfred’s side.
“And what about the R.O.U.S.’s?” he asked drily.
“Rodents of Unusual Size?” Alfred replied, looking skeptical. “I don’t think they exist.”
You Wish (8e/?)
anonymous
November 3 2010, 04:09:09 UTC
In the next second, Arthur was firmly convinced fate wanted everything to go wrong for them. Because that was the only explanation for why, at that precise moment, a rat the size of a child leapt out of a tree branch and commenced with trying to snap viciously at Alfred’s face.
All Arthur could do for a moment was scream, but he snapped out of it when the thing, blocked by Alfred’s arm, sunk its sharp teeth into the defending appendage instead of its original target. Alfred howled in pain, and Arthur forced his fight or flight response to fight.
Alfred recovered relatively quickly, driving a fist into the giant rodent’s snout and rolling it away for a second. Arthur dived for the sword out of Alfred’s reach, and tried to get it to him before the thing came back. He was too later, however, and it bit into Alfred’s shoulder, making the man’s face contort in pain.
Arthur froze for another half second, then gave up trying to get to him and threw the sword on ahead of him, within Alfred’s reach. At the same time, Alfred flipped the beast off of himself, then scrambled for his sword.
The ugly creature righted itself and Arthur suddenly found its beady eyes trained on himself instead of Alfred. He searched for a weapon, and only came up with a branch that might make a suitable club.
It charged him, panting and slavering, and Arthur stood his ground, not even looking to see if Alfred had retrieved the sword yet, but hoping he had.
“Alfred!” he shouted at the last minute, already moving to try to beat the rodent’s skull in. It took a solid hit and was knocked off course, but still managed to bury its teeth in the ragged edge of Arthur’s trousers, dragging him to the ground where Arthur no longer had the proper leverage to attack it effectively.
Alfred had apparently abandoned his sword in favor of tackling the beast with brute strength, wrestling it again, and having one second the upper hand, the next second being on his back and fending off teeth. Arthur got to his feet and moved to help, but heard the telltale popping sound.
“Alfred, the fire!” The larger man appeared to understand Arthur’s directions, and forced the creature to roll with him toward where the fire would burst up. Within seconds, his effort was rewarded and flames seared over the rodent’s back and side as it screamed in pain.
He jumped free from the beast, taking the sword Arthur handed to him and moving back to the defeated thing. It rolled, an attempt to put out the fire all over its hide, but stopped when the sword pierced its chest, killing it faster. Alfred stabbed through twice, letting the final blow linger as the giant rat’s pained yowls faded into a dead silence.
Pulling his sword from the carcass, Alfred turned slowly to Arthur who remained stock still, unsure of what to do with himself. Alfred gave him a small, very tired smile, and Arthur rushed to him, supporting his lover as Alfred cringed from the pain in his shoulder and arm. Still, he kept moving forward, and Arthur walked with him, keeping Alfred steady and silently vowing that next time, he would be the one to keep Alfred from harm.
They could make it through this. If the world wanted to throw everything it had at them, so be it. Alfred was willing to fight down to his last breath, and so Arthur would do the same. Whatever it took, they would make it to their happy ending.
Re: You Wish (8e/?)
anonymous
November 3 2010, 04:43:07 UTC
This was so worth waiting for! I SEE POSSESSIVE!ALFRED IN THE PORN. Alfred licking Alfred clean was just <3
This whole fill kinda makes me wish I've watched the movie before. Haha, Alfred being the pirate, talk about a role reversal? Awww Arthur, stop being such a pessimist already xD
Btw, I feel that the rat should have been bbq'd over them fire spouts and eaten IN A MANRY WAY. Looking forward to your next update 8D
In addition, I hope to have the next actual story part up sometime this week. I hope.
-
“I will never doubt again,” Arthur promised, fingers locking with Alfred’s.
“There will never be a need.”
They kissed, the kiss of lost lovers, tender and loving and gentle. Arthur sighed his relief against Alfred’s mouth, pulling the man closer with grateful arms. Alfred’s arm wrapped around him in turn, lifting Arthur from the ground to press them closer together. His hands skimmed over Arthur’s arms and sides to reacquaint himself with the smaller man’s body.
“I’ve missed you,” Alfred told him softly, lips parting from Arthur’s for breath and little else. The smaller blonde clutched at him in reply, one hand slipping into Alfred’s hair to anchor them together.
“I know,” Arthur breathed into a kiss. “I need you. Now, please, for…so I…please, Alfred.” The words weren’t coming out, but the intent was there. Alfred nodded in understanding anyway, and his hands were immediately under the edge of Arthur’s shirt, rediscovering everything.
Arthur groaned, blissful in the feeling of his lover’s hands on him again after so long needing and being unable to have him. Alfred’s fingers spread up and past Arthur’s stomach, pushing his effeminate shirt into bunches over his chest. Arthur relinquished his claim on Alfred’s lips only to let him move on to abusing the skin of Arthur’s neck.
The smaller man tried not to squirm, but his body wanted so badly to press up into Alfred and destroy any space between them. Alfred encouraged the movement with a hand under Arthur’s nearly-naked torso, still leaving marks all over his lover’s throat. One particular spot was remembered and Arthur clawed into the fabric of Alfred shirt, gasping as little shocks invaded his system, numbing him to anything but pleasure.
For as much as he loved and missed Alfred in the everyday, he also loved and missed this aspect of him. Arthur was sure no one in the world could touch him like Alfred, could light up his insides with a brush of fingers or the simple press of lips on his skin. Arthur always held himself above pleading, but now, in this moment of reunion, there was no waiting, and he wasn’t ashamed to beg Alfred to move on faster.
He didn’t entirely obey, lingering for a moment between Arthur’s clavicle and breast bone, but after a second, he leaned up, pressed a kiss to Arthur’s mouth, and gave him three words. Arthur felt his eyes slip closed, smiling blissfully. His shirt was lifted over his head, and Arthur sat up to pull at the lacing holding Alfred’s together. Within seconds, they were both naked from the waist up, and Arthur tugged his lover forward, making their skin meet in as many points as he could.
Alfred was a little different compared to the day he left. He’d never been weak, and had certainly always been a treat to look at, but now there was a sharp edge to his looks. His body was solid, muscled in place of the traces of baby fat he’d had on the farm, and feeling that power bending to him made Arthur’s blood sing. It was still Alfred, who loved him and was sweet and kind and determined, but he had another layer now, some danger in him that Arthur was restless to explore.
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“You’ve hardly even touched yourself while I was gone, have you?” The dark, pleased tone in Alfred’s voice made Arthur shudder while he nodded, unable to form words. His mind was far too focused on the clever fingers stroking over him.
“God…Alfred, please. Don’t make me wait any longer.” He could feel Alfred’s arousal against his leg, so there was no denying they were both incredibly reactive. Arthur also felt the same kind of jealous satisfaction that it meant Alfred had waited and saved himself for Arthur. That, or he was experiencing similar intense emotions, thrilled and overwhelmed to have his love returned just as Arthur was.
Alfred nodded, and after looking adorably bewildered for a moment, shuffled down until he was eye level with Arthur’s hips. Before Arthur could speak a word of protest, his trousers had been shoved down, and Alfred’s mouth was around him, slowly bringing him deeper with every passing second.
Arthur writhed, fingers twining in Alfred’s hair. Lord, he was exquisite. Alfred had always been a smart mouth, and he knew how to put that big mouth of his to use, torturing Arthur in the best ways. A long stroke of his tongue, finished off with sucking pressure at the head of his arousal, and Arthur gasped, pulling Alfred’s hair until he moved up again where Arthur wanted him.
He shoved their lips together, groaning at the slick feeling of Alfred’s mouth. When Arthur released his lover, Alfred gave him a questioning look, gently rubbing his hands over Arthur’s hips. He didn’t even have to speak for Arthur to understand his confusion.
“I want to feel you,” Arthur said, voice a bit harsh and probably breathy. “I want us…together.”
“But we don’t have anything,” Alfred replied, for once the voice of reason.
“I know.” It had been far too long ago that he’d actually had sex, and though they had nothing else to ease things, trying to make saliva suffice was asking for trouble. Besides, a distant part of Arthur’s mind still remembered there was an insufferable prince after them, and it wouldn’t do to be completely exhausted and then limping through the forests like a useless woman.
“We don’t have to-” Arthur cut himself off, boldly reaching to push Alfred’ trousers out of his way. The larger man groaned as Arthur threw a leg over his hips, bringing their lower halves together. “Just this.”
Alfred nodded in understanding, holding Arthur to him with one hand and letting the other join Arthur’s hand to stroke them both together. Arthur was a bit too battered and still dealing with Alfred rising from the dead to do much more than joyfully accept the pleasure overwhelming him, but Alfred had both the leverage and energy to keep thrusting into their joined hands. All the movement and heat and proof that Alfred was alive, was here with him, made for a drowning sort of ecstasy that washed over Arthur in languid waves.
His lover leaned down to kiss along Arthur’s jaw, all the way to his mouth, breathing love into him, and Arthur stiffened, hips finally pistoning into his and Alfred’s hand as his orgasm shook his body. Surely this was like dying and going to heaven, Arthur thought. He was floating in a peaceful haze of contentment and pleasure. And when he came to, Alfred was there, choking on his own release and whispering Arthur’s name in a high-pitched sigh that completely contrasted his rugged appearance.
Alfred. His love. Returned to him after so long and finally real, panting and petting Arthur’s skin reverently, collapsed against him after a round of lovemaking. Life could be no better.
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“Five days is too long,” Arthur replied, one hand in Alfred’s hair, the other lopped around his back as if afraid he might disappear if Arthur let go.
“Five minutes,” his lover shot back, making a bit of a game out of it, as he leaned up with a spark of easy amusement in his eye.
“Five seconds.” And it had been longer than that since they’d last kisses, and Arthur already wanted him back, so perhaps this time limit was accurate. Either way, Arthur used the hand still in Alfred’s hair and pulled him down for a kiss. It was slow, growing from chaste to open-mouthed and blatantly wanton over a time, with brushing tongues and soft sighs to smooth the transition.
Arthur eventually pulled away, having to hold Alfred in place lest he follow and just keep kissing him until they both ran out of air and expired here in this ravine. It would be a decent way to die, but Arthur wasn’t ready for death yet after having just got Alfred back, not even so sweet a one as dying in Alfred’s embrace. Instead, he kissed the rise of Alfred’s cheek bone, smiling up at him.
“We need to be moving,” he said firmly, no less fondly. “Francis will still be looking for us, and our little tumble has set us on the path toward the Fire Swamp.”
“Little tumble?” Alfred laughed softly. “You pushed me down a cliff, you madman.”
“I thought you were the man who I’d thought killed you,” Arthur defended. “That hardly sounds sensible now, but I was under the impression you were that god awful Roberts pirate.”
“I am.” The ease with which Alfred said it made Arthur suspicious, but his suspicions floated away when Alfred tipped down to kiss him gently. “I’ll explain later,” he promised. “For now, let’s go see what that stupid swamp has to throw at us!”
Oh, he’d missed that enthusiasm. That willingness to give anything a go, and that determination to conquer any challenge. And more than anything, Arthur was glad Alfred had such a stubborn streak. It was what had won him Arthur’s love in the first place, and it was surely what had miraculously brought him back.
“Yes, let’s,” Arthur agreed, half-resigned, half-amused. “But first, we need to, ah, clean up.”
“Of course,” Alfred said, nodding. He reached to take Arthur’s sticky hand in his, lapping at the evidence of their passion. Arthur groaned and shuddered. Thank God they couldn’t go at it again so soon, because Alfred seemed to be an expert at turning him on. He didn’t stop the larger man though, and when both his hand and stomach had been licked clean, Arthur was panting, but determined to move on without getting caught up in Alfred.
“Lovely,” he said, ignoring his own breathlessness and pushing Alfred off of him to fix his clothes. Alfred moved to pull up his own trousers, going after his shirt when that job was done. Arthur watched him shuck the thing on, having already dressed himself. He was secretly glad that Alfred’s mask had been caught somewhere in their fall. He’d rather not have Alfred’s face hidden from him.
Giving up the search for his mask, Alfred came back to him, pulling Arthur to his feet. There was only a half second of silent staring before Arthur cupped Alfred’s face in his hands and kissed him thoroughly, innocently but with all the joy of finally having Alfred back and in his arms. He released his lover and grinned at the dazed, silly smile he got in return, then dropped his hands to clasp one of Alfred’s.
“Let’s get going.”
-
Sorry for taking so long! But that's it for the extra smut. Now...back to the story!
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For future reference, I googled hetalia kink meme "you wish" us uk", clicked on the first hit, then clicked on the link labeled "You Wish" to find this.
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Alfred and Arthur raced along the ravine floor. There were still mountains and forest between them a Francis, and if they were lucky and very fast, they might be able to make it back to civilization before Francis caught up with them. From there, it could be hoped that someone might help them get even further from Florin.
Alfred glanced up, and to both of their surprise, Francis was still loitering somewhere near the top of the cliff, having only moved a bit closer to their original position. Arthur viciously hoped Francis had seen them together. Perhaps it would make him finally give up on trying to keep Arthur for himself.
“Ha!” Alfred laughed shortly. “Your frog fiancé is too late!” He squeezed Arthur’s hand reassuringly in his own. “A few more steps and we’ll be safe in the Fire Swamp.”
Arthur hesitated for the first time. Now that he thought about it, there hadn’t been any survivors who made it out of the Fire Swamp. Would Alfred come back only to get himself and Arthur killed?
“We’ll never survive,” he mumbled, probably sounding a bit melodramatic.
“Nonsense.” And Alfred stopped for a half second to smile at him so brightly, Arthur felt obligated to believe him in anything. “You’re only saying that because no one ever has.”
With that, Alfred pressed an enthusiastic kiss to Arthur’s cheek and tugged him into the tree cover of the Fire Swamp. It didn’t look that bad, Arthur supposed. No worse than any other moist, infernal horror you might expect. Huge trees blocked out the sun in all but a few patches, and the entire place seemed to be filled with insects, buzzing and probably biting everywhere.
Arthur was anything but sure about this next step in their odd adventure, but he was following Alfred’s lead, and he wasn’t about to let go of his love for a second. So he endured.
Alfred didn’t seem to share Arthur’s misgivings. He moved through the ever thickening trees with ease, pulling a dueling sword from his belt and slashing jauntily through the vines hanging in their way. No, not much had changed about him, behind the dark clothes and more rugged good looks. He was still Alfred Jones, the boy able to be cheerful while doing the most horrendous of jobs.
“It’s not that bad,” Alfred commented after a few minutes, earning himself a scoff from Arthur. “I’m not saying I wanna build a summer home here, but the trees are actually kinda cool-looking.”
Arthur shot him a disbelieving look that hoped conveyed the message that despite how much he loved the boy, Arthur was now under the impression Alfred was completely bonkers. Taking a second look at the trees around them, Arthur admitted they had a…an ambiance or something, but they certainly weren’t the lovely kind you could look out purely for aesthetics’ sake.
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Then a spurt of flame suddenly erupted from the ground, missing Alfred, but quickly crawling up the legs of Arthur’s trousers. Cursing at the ground, Arthur leapt out of the way as the fire settled back down, flailing and toppling into Alfred’s waiting arms. With tight, controlled movements, Alfred deposited him on a relatively stable-looking log.
Arthur held still as Alfred’s hands smothered the little flames still running up his trousers, and tried not to notice that Alfred looked about as panicked as Arthur had felt. Then again, it wasn’t every day your long lost love was set on fire, so Arthur really couldn’t blame him. Eventually, though, the flames were out and Arthur only had a couple of blackened, tattered hems to show for it.
Still, Alfred ran his hands gently up from Arthur’s ankles nearly to his knees. “Well, that was an adventure,” he remarked, smiling again. “Any damage?”
He could very well feel for himself that Arthur’s skin was entirely unblemished, if a bit heated, but Arthur could tell it was a somewhat transparent excuse to run his hands along Arthur’s legs. He was slow, and gentle, and nearly erotic about too, and Arthur couldn’t find it in him for a second to make Alfred stop.
Arthur shook his head in the negative, and, feeling a patch of rough, possibly singed skin brush his knee, asked, “You?”
Alfred copied his head shake, but Arthur stopped him from standing with a hand on his shoulder. With his free hand, he tugged Alfred’s wrist until he could examine the skin on his palms. They were minorly burned, just a bit red, and Arthur leaned down to gently kiss the rise of his palm in a silent thank you. Alfred really was too sweet for his own good sometimes.
The larger man smiled softly up at him from his kneeling position, pulling back his hands and standing with Arthur. They’d gone not two steps before the same popping noise came, and Arthur tugged Alfred by the collar, pulling him out of the way of a shot of flame just before it could hit him.
“Well, one thing I’ll say,” Alfred said on a slight laugh. “The Fire Swap does keep you on your toes.”
Arthur gave him a withering stare. It was all fine and dandy for Alfred to be gallivanting around this place like he owned it, but oneof them had to keep an eye out for dangers. Alfred kissed his cheek softly, somehow managing to convey his apology for being so cavalier, before taking Arthur’s hand in his, linking their fingers in a way that wouldn’t aggravate his burns.
He started to lead the way again, and Arthur vaguely hoped Alfred knew where he was leading them. He voiced his concern a few minutes later when, after tripping over a particularly well-hidden root, he’d become even less fond of this idiotic swamp.
“This will all soon be a happy memory,” Alfred told him reassuringly, rubbing away the tension in Arthur’s body with firm fingers massaging his hand and wrist. “Roberts’ ship, Revenge, is anchored at the far end, a ways past the end of the Swamp. And, as you know, I’m Roberts.”
“But how is that possible?” Arthur asked, pulling his damaged hems out of a bramble on their self-made path. “He’s been marauding twenty years and you only left me five years ago.” He’d also have to be about two years old if Alfred had been Roberts all along.
Alfred opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by the now-familiar popping sound, and stuck his sword into the ground before lifting Arthur with hands around his waist. The smaller man was whirled out of harm’s way and set back on the trail Alfred had been happily chopping through the Swamp.
“Y’see,” Alfred started, once again hacking away at the vines and trees. “What I told you before about saying please was true. It intrigued Roberts, just like me talking about how beautiful you are.”
Arthur flushed only slightly at the casually given compliment, but only nodded in understanding as Alfred went on with his story, diligently hacking at thick vines that (oh so disconcertingly) made halfway sentient groaning noises as they fell.
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Alfred paused to laugh, and Arthur had to wonder how he’d ever come to fall in love with such a fortunate fool. Being taken on as part of a pirate crew and surviving three years of death threats only to look back on it with laughter. Perhaps they would make it out of here, with Alfred’s luck.
“It was great time for me. I was learning to fence, to fight, anything anyone would teach me,” Alfred said when he’d finished silently reminiscing for a moment. “And Roberts and I eventually became friends. And then it happened.”
Arthur wasn’t sure if it was just a dramatic pause until the moment stretched longer and he prompted Alfred to go on. Instead, Alfred put his sword in its scabbard for a second, and lifted Arthur into his arms. Arthur allowed it, one arm wrapping around his lover’s neck as he was lifted over a stretch of swamp water that splashed harmlessly against Alfred’s boots, but would have soaked the tattered ends of Arthur’s trousers in stinking wetness.
“Well,” he kept going, carrying Arthur over what looked to be a shallow pond of rancid water. “Roberts had grown so rich, he wanted to retire. So he took me into his cabin and told me his secret. ‘I am not the Dread Pirate Roberts,’ he said.”
Alfred’s dramatic voice dropped a second later as he went on, avoiding a stump nearly concealed by the water. “‘My name is Ryan. I inherited this ship from the previous Dread Pirate Roberts, just as you will inherit it from me.’ The man he inherited it from wasn’t the real Dread Pirate Roberts either. His name was Cummerbund, if you can believe that. Anyway, the real Roberts has been retired fifteen years and is living like a king in Patagonia.”
They’d crossed the water, and Alfred shook the clinging water off his boots, finishing his bit before he would put Arthur down again. “He explained the name was the important thing. To inspire fear and stuff. Because, really, no one would surrender to the Dread Pirate Alfred.”
Arthur was put back on solid ground, and had the fleeting thought that he would surrender anything Alfred wanted, and had to terminate the thought with extreme prejudice. Missing Alfred had evidently turned him into a complete sap, and he’d have to make sure those kinds of things stopped slipping out unbidden before he allowed himself to say whatever came to mind.
“So we sailed ashore, took on an entirely new crew, and he stayed on board for a while as first mate, calling me Roberts the whole time.” Alfred’s hand had slipped easily back into Arthur’s, but he released it to slice a rather thick branch blocking them in half. “Once the crew believed, he left the ship, and I’ve been Roberts ever since.”
He held the remains of the branch out of Arthur’s way as he passed, walking a step or two ahead of Alfred this time.
“Except,” Alfred began, “now that we’re together, I’ll retire and hand the name over to someone else. Was that all clear?”
Arthur nodded, and opened his mouth to reply as he took another step, but his reply turned into a gasp as the ground gave under him and he was suddenly sucked straight down.
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There was no movement, just the vine stretched taut between the tree rooting it and the center of the sand pit. It was long moments before something passed by, looking like a cross between a small bear and a giant rat. It sniffed briefly at the vine, deemed it unworthy of further exploration, then moved on, waddling quickly back into the Swamp.
Not ten seconds later, the ground erupted, a hand shooting out of the sandy middle to grasp at the vine. Lungs past bursting point, the rest of Alfred’s body followed quickly, gasping for air. Clinging to his shoulders, Arthur coughed as well, sand spilling from his lips as he dragged in oxygen. They made it to the edge of the sandy area, both breathing heavily and holding onto each other when they’d reached solid ground.
Arthur panted into Alfred’s shoulder, trying not to sob out of pure frustration. It seemed the universe simply wanted them to be unhappy. First, Alfred had been taken from him, then Francis had…happened, and today he’d nearly killed his love, been set on fire, and had the earth itself try to suffocate him. It just wasn’t fair.
He controlled his breathing when Alfred started to move, clearly intent on getting them further away from the lightning sand. Arthur went willingly, settling with Alfred on the ground a few feet away, and letting him brush the sand away from Arthur’s face where it had caught in his lips, lashes, and eyebrows.
“We’ll never succeed,” Arthur groaned, about ready to drop his head onto Alfred’s shoulder and simply never move again. “We may as well die here.” He knew he sounded overdramatic and possibly ridiculous, but when the world seemed to be so clearly working against them what was the point?
“No,” Alfred said firmly, stroking Arthur’s hair. “No. We’ve already succeeded.” Really, Arthur could kiss him for his optimism. He could kiss him for no reason at all, but with that brilliant smile shining up at him, Arthur felt that Alfred was really earning his affection in the most wonderful ways. So he moved to kiss Alfred deeply, full of gratitude and the unspoken promise that he would keep trying as long as Alfred would.
Alfred pulled him into standing, and started walking again with an arm around Arthur’s waist. The smaller man leaned against him, tired and emotionally drained, and willing to rest his forehead affectionately against Alfred’s shoulder, one hand wrapped into the fabric of his lover’s shirt as if to assure him they were both still here, together.
“I mean, what are the three terrors of the Fire Swamp?” he asked rhetorically. “One, the flame spurts. No problem. There’s popping noises before that happens, so we know when it’s coming. Two, the lightning sand. But you discovered what it looks like, so in the future, we can avoid that too.”
A bit relieved by Alfred’s cheesy grinning, Arthur punched his arm lightly, still half-snuggled against Alfred’s side.
“And what about the R.O.U.S.’s?” he asked drily.
“Rodents of Unusual Size?” Alfred replied, looking skeptical. “I don’t think they exist.”
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All Arthur could do for a moment was scream, but he snapped out of it when the thing, blocked by Alfred’s arm, sunk its sharp teeth into the defending appendage instead of its original target. Alfred howled in pain, and Arthur forced his fight or flight response to fight.
Alfred recovered relatively quickly, driving a fist into the giant rodent’s snout and rolling it away for a second. Arthur dived for the sword out of Alfred’s reach, and tried to get it to him before the thing came back. He was too later, however, and it bit into Alfred’s shoulder, making the man’s face contort in pain.
Arthur froze for another half second, then gave up trying to get to him and threw the sword on ahead of him, within Alfred’s reach. At the same time, Alfred flipped the beast off of himself, then scrambled for his sword.
The ugly creature righted itself and Arthur suddenly found its beady eyes trained on himself instead of Alfred. He searched for a weapon, and only came up with a branch that might make a suitable club.
It charged him, panting and slavering, and Arthur stood his ground, not even looking to see if Alfred had retrieved the sword yet, but hoping he had.
“Alfred!” he shouted at the last minute, already moving to try to beat the rodent’s skull in. It took a solid hit and was knocked off course, but still managed to bury its teeth in the ragged edge of Arthur’s trousers, dragging him to the ground where Arthur no longer had the proper leverage to attack it effectively.
Alfred had apparently abandoned his sword in favor of tackling the beast with brute strength, wrestling it again, and having one second the upper hand, the next second being on his back and fending off teeth. Arthur got to his feet and moved to help, but heard the telltale popping sound.
“Alfred, the fire!” The larger man appeared to understand Arthur’s directions, and forced the creature to roll with him toward where the fire would burst up. Within seconds, his effort was rewarded and flames seared over the rodent’s back and side as it screamed in pain.
He jumped free from the beast, taking the sword Arthur handed to him and moving back to the defeated thing. It rolled, an attempt to put out the fire all over its hide, but stopped when the sword pierced its chest, killing it faster. Alfred stabbed through twice, letting the final blow linger as the giant rat’s pained yowls faded into a dead silence.
Pulling his sword from the carcass, Alfred turned slowly to Arthur who remained stock still, unsure of what to do with himself. Alfred gave him a small, very tired smile, and Arthur rushed to him, supporting his lover as Alfred cringed from the pain in his shoulder and arm. Still, he kept moving forward, and Arthur walked with him, keeping Alfred steady and silently vowing that next time, he would be the one to keep Alfred from harm.
They could make it through this. If the world wanted to throw everything it had at them, so be it. Alfred was willing to fight down to his last breath, and so Arthur would do the same. Whatever it took, they would make it to their happy ending.
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*will try harder not to fail next time*
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This whole fill kinda makes me wish I've watched the movie before. Haha, Alfred being the pirate, talk about a role reversal? Awww Arthur, stop being such a pessimist already xD
Btw, I feel that the rat should have been bbq'd over them fire spouts and eaten IN A MANRY WAY. Looking forward to your next update 8D
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If you couldn't tell, I'm ecstatic. I love this fill so much. I can't wait for the next bit~
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