Love The Way Tou Lie (42)
anonymous
November 16 2010, 23:40:41 UTC
Arthur slowly unfolded the scrap of paper to see very feminine writing, curly and loopy. A name and a phone number. He kept staring at it for a few minutes, Alfred feeling more and more uncomfortable with the icy feeling Arthur exuded.
"You got a girl's phone number?" He asked lowly.
Alfred shifted his weight from one leg to another. "It was totally forced on me, man," he lied poorly. Arthur didn't miss the tell-tale signs of a liar-- it was impossible for Alfred to lie to him. He had raised the boy from a wee babe. There was nothing Arthur did not know.
"You lie."
Alfred laughed, trying to lighten the situation that suddenly felt sharply dangerous. Alfred's gaze flickered to the counter, looking for the butcher knife that had fallen there.
It was gone.
He swallowed nervously. "Of course not. Heroes don't lie."
"And gentlemen don't kill people."
Alfred stood still, processing that thought in his mind slowly. "I thought they didn't...?" He asked after a minute, wary and getting ready to run. Sure, he could overpower Arthur, but Arthur was a scrapper and had been in many more fights than the American. He had the upper hand.
"Pirates do."
As the meaning of the sentence began to dawn on Alfred, a pair of lips attacked his own savagely, and a sharp blade was placed at his neck.
Shit.
Yay! Second to last chapter. :3 I hope everybody likes it so far~ Also, a note. Miracle Blades are some random knives sold on infomercials that are supposedly the more wicked sharp knives ever. I don't know about that, the the infomercial had the knives cutting steel pipes like a saw and a tomato dropped on the blade was cut perfectly in two.
Duuuuddeee, that's the crazist update I've seen yet! Even scarier when the newspaper described the similar victimology! D': Also I love the climatic dark suspense you've build, but I hate it you've left an awesome cliffhanger too.
AN UPDATE IS A MUST. BECAUSE CRAZY POSSESSIVE PIRATE!ARTHUR IS MY FAVORITE ;D Its been a long time since I've seen those Miracle Blade infomercials, but I wondered if they are really sharp. Seems too good to be true.
Re: Love The Way Tou Lie (42)
anonymous
November 17 2010, 01:31:33 UTC
"They deserve it. They were bad children that ran away from their fathers."
THAT LINE. Oh man, this is getting good. Arthur's motives are bone-chillingly in-character, and the last part was hot. Keep up the great work, I always look forward to these updates!
Re: Love The Way Tou Lie (42)
anonymous
November 17 2010, 02:22:26 UTC
I should not be sympathizing with the killer omigod what is wrong with me?! But Alfred....why did you have to be going after girls' phone numbers? I almost feel like he deserves punishment. Not death, but....
In short, you're making me sympathize with both of them with your awesome writing; I feel like half a crazy person. Characterization, why so great with your logical(ish) motives?! Clearly, the solution is to write more! :3 *camps out here*
AuthorAnon2
anonymous
November 17 2010, 05:47:41 UTC
I'm so glad everybody likes it! =D I'm so happy that OP loves it ans as for the people waiting for updates, it'll be soon~ The next chapter will be the last, just so you guys know. :D Thanks for reading and I'm so happy with reviews!
Love The Way Tou Lie (5a)
anonymous
November 18 2010, 03:34:35 UTC
Here's the final chapter! I hope you like it~ :3
"I'm so glad you've gotten quiet, Alfred," Arthur murmured gently, sweeping aside the honey-colored bangs to press a kiss to the skin exposed. His lips quirked into a smile. "It was annoying with you being so loud."
He turned away from the man at the table, bustling to the kitchen and smiling brightly. "Would you like some pop to go along with your hamburger?" He began pouring a cup of Coca-cola he kept in the house only for Alfred, then heard the hamburger thud onto the plate. "Ah? Finished eating? Wonderful! I have some dessert."
He waltzed like he had no worries and placed the glass of soda and ice on the table, watching the ice clink in the dark liquid for a moment from emerald eyes before twirling on the spot to face the oven. A small ding! was heard and an egg alarm went off, buzzing busily on the counter. Arthur turned the alarm off and slipped on some gloves, still speaking.
"It's apple pie, Alfred. I know you love it," his smile turned nostalgic. "It's a shame you've grown so big. When I made a pie it would last two weeks. Now it barely cools in its tin!" He laughed brightly, the room lighting up from the simple joy abounding from the small man.
He opened the oven, leaning back so that the hot air would rush out harmlessly instead of burning him, waiting a moment before tugging the metallic rack a bit to grasp the pie through the oven gloves. He pulled it out gently, watching the just slightly burnt crust crinkle. He laughed weakly.
"Well, it's a little dark today, Alfred, but the inside is great! I know you'll love it." He carefully set the pie on a cooling rack on the table, watching steam rise from the baked good. He pulled the gloves off and shut the oven, turning the oven off and slid into place across from Alfred at the table. He watched the steam, leaning on one hand and smiling softly.
"I followed the recipe exactly," he said after a few moments, musing. "Well. I made it better," he admitted. He drew designs on the table, the light wood letting the smear of his fingertip create patterns according to his will. First a Union Jack, then, just because it looked lonely, the Stars and Stripes. After staring at it for a moment, he frowned. He did not like that flag.
He slashes his hand through it and didn't redraw it, leaving only the Union Jack. After a few seconds of calm contemplation, he added the Saint George's Cross, his own personal flag as England, rather than the Unite Kingdom. He smiled, large brows seeming to soften his usually irritated expression into one of loving care.
He reached to take Alfred's hand in his own, taking the paper that had fallen on the table into his other hand. He examined the number, then tossed it in the trash. He held Alfred's hand more firmly after that. "Do you want some tea?" He asked before chuckling. "Nevermind. You never want tea. I'll get you coffee." He kissed the soft hand in his own before standing and heading to the counter.
He knew just have Alfred like his coffee-- strong enough to have caffeine but not too bitter. Two scoops exactly into the filter, then the filter into the basket and some water into the back. He flicked the small switch, watching it light up with a dull orange color to indicate that the appliance was in use. His lips quirked into a smile. Alfred had always hated tea since the Boston Tea Party. Well, that little tiff was over now. He waited patiently for the machine to stop its grumbles and hisses, hearing the sound of the liquid pour into the coffee pot in drips. He turned away and put water into the kettle so he could make tea for himself, spinning the knob to turn on the heat before leaning against the counter, elbows on it and letting his head fall back.
He sighed. "My, it's really something. You're lucky I have coffee for you, git." He closed his eyes, waiting for the sound of either of the objects to alert him.
He almost fell asleep, a light meditative state over taking his mind and leaving it bare of thoughts, merely contentment. A whistle broke it, though, letting him know the water was hot enough for the tea. He switched the heat off and poured the water in the cup, dropping in a tea bag of Earl Grey. Cliche, yes, but delicious.
Re: Love The Way Tou Lie (5b)
anonymous
November 18 2010, 03:35:05 UTC
Some noises were heard outside, heavy boots tromping up to the door, but he ignored them. A knock on the door, firm and powerful, along with a flurry of garbled French. A sharp command in German silenced the French and there was no sound for a short time.
He let the tea steep and poured out a mug of coffee for Alfred, pouring in creamer til it paled and added enough sugar to feed and army of ants for a week before setting it before the American. "Isn't it nice? I made it just how you like it."
There was another knock at the door, shaking the barrier to the outside world. Arthur didn't even acknowledge it. Another knock, then more words, some worried and some angry.
He smiled blithely for a moment or two before turning his attention back to the tea. He picked up a small jug of milk, pouring it in over the dark liquid carefully to cool it and calm the bitterness, pulling out the bag and setting it aside. A few dollops of honey and it was perfect. He stirred with the small spoon, standing and watching the colors mix and felt the heavy clump of the viscous honey begin to melt.
The door flew open, making Arthur look up calmly, vaguely curious. "Hello," he greeted with a soft smile, still stirring the tea serenely.
Francis swooned at the sight of the corpse of the American, fainting immediately and falling. Ludwig stared at him coldly for a moment before sighing and turned his gaze to Arthur.
Arthur was a mess, clothing rumpled and ruined, some parts shredded and others gashed, blood sprayed over his blue vest. The American's hand had been manipulated to hold a hamburger, he saw, then narrowed his eyes. There was a deep gash across Alfred's throat, a mockery of a smile, and blood pooling on the floor and all over the body.
Arthur merely smiled and tilted his head in curiosity, then extended a hand with the tea cup on a saucer.
"Fancy a cuppa?"
Yay for crazy~! Sorry for no smexy time, OP! D: I didn't want to ruin the feeling of the distant sort of view, like an outsider looking on. It'd be too voyeuristic and then there's be the blood thing and the kill... ^^;; Anyhow, thanks to all who kept up and read my small little fic!
Re: Love The Way Tou Lie (5b)
anonymous
November 18 2010, 03:41:15 UTC
AKWLJF; SDDSA Holy shit, dude. Y-you actually went there; I thought for sure you'd let him survive, or revive him, or ... something. Way to go dark, author!anon. I kind of like how Arthur's fatigue and deteriorating appearance -- especially in that last scene -- mirror his deteriorating mental state.
I really did try to ignore the horrible feeling in my gut as I read the last chapter. But deep down I already knew what had happened. D': The last part gave me chills... I can clearly imagine the scene.
And by the way, when I finished reading this five minutes before my class started, I was mumbling quietly to myself like "NOOOO! NOT ALFRED!! DAMN YOU ARTHUR! AHHHGHHH!" and my friends were looking at me weird.
But still, even without the smexy time, this is an awesome fill you've made Author!Anon.
Arthur slowly unfolded the scrap of paper to see very feminine writing, curly and loopy. A name and a phone number. He kept staring at it for a few minutes, Alfred feeling more and more uncomfortable with the icy feeling Arthur exuded.
"You got a girl's phone number?" He asked lowly.
Alfred shifted his weight from one leg to another. "It was totally forced on me, man," he lied poorly. Arthur didn't miss the tell-tale signs of a liar-- it was impossible for Alfred to lie to him. He had raised the boy from a wee babe. There was nothing Arthur did not know.
"You lie."
Alfred laughed, trying to lighten the situation that suddenly felt sharply dangerous. Alfred's gaze flickered to the counter, looking for the butcher knife that had fallen there.
It was gone.
He swallowed nervously. "Of course not. Heroes don't lie."
"And gentlemen don't kill people."
Alfred stood still, processing that thought in his mind slowly. "I thought they didn't...?" He asked after a minute, wary and getting ready to run. Sure, he could overpower Arthur, but Arthur was a scrapper and had been in many more fights than the American. He had the upper hand.
"Pirates do."
As the meaning of the sentence began to dawn on Alfred, a pair of lips attacked his own savagely, and a sharp blade was placed at his neck.
Shit.
Yay! Second to last chapter. :3 I hope everybody likes it so far~
Also, a note. Miracle Blades are some random knives sold on infomercials that are supposedly the more wicked sharp knives ever. I don't know about that, the the infomercial had the knives cutting steel pipes like a saw and a tomato dropped on the blade was cut perfectly in two.
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Also I love the climatic dark suspense you've build, but I hate it you've left an awesome cliffhanger too.
AN UPDATE IS A MUST. BECAUSE CRAZY POSSESSIVE PIRATE!ARTHUR IS MY FAVORITE ;D
Its been a long time since I've seen those Miracle Blade infomercials, but I wondered if they are really sharp. Seems too good to be true.
Reply
Reply
THAT LINE. Oh man, this is getting good. Arthur's motives are bone-chillingly in-character, and the last part was hot. Keep up the great work, I always look forward to these updates!
Reply
In short, you're making me sympathize with both of them with your awesome writing; I feel like half a crazy person. Characterization, why so great with your logical(ish) motives?! Clearly, the solution is to write more! :3 *camps out here*
Reply
Reply
Reply
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I can't wait to see what happens next! *f5 in the speed of light*
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"I'm so glad you've gotten quiet, Alfred," Arthur murmured gently, sweeping aside the honey-colored bangs to press a kiss to the skin exposed. His lips quirked into a smile. "It was annoying with you being so loud."
He turned away from the man at the table, bustling to the kitchen and smiling brightly. "Would you like some pop to go along with your hamburger?" He began pouring a cup of Coca-cola he kept in the house only for Alfred, then heard the hamburger thud onto the plate. "Ah? Finished eating? Wonderful! I have some dessert."
He waltzed like he had no worries and placed the glass of soda and ice on the table, watching the ice clink in the dark liquid for a moment from emerald eyes before twirling on the spot to face the oven. A small ding! was heard and an egg alarm went off, buzzing busily on the counter. Arthur turned the alarm off and slipped on some gloves, still speaking.
"It's apple pie, Alfred. I know you love it," his smile turned nostalgic. "It's a shame you've grown so big. When I made a pie it would last two weeks. Now it barely cools in its tin!" He laughed brightly, the room lighting up from the simple joy abounding from the small man.
He opened the oven, leaning back so that the hot air would rush out harmlessly instead of burning him, waiting a moment before tugging the metallic rack a bit to grasp the pie through the oven gloves. He pulled it out gently, watching the just slightly burnt crust crinkle. He laughed weakly.
"Well, it's a little dark today, Alfred, but the inside is great! I know you'll love it." He carefully set the pie on a cooling rack on the table, watching steam rise from the baked good. He pulled the gloves off and shut the oven, turning the oven off and slid into place across from Alfred at the table. He watched the steam, leaning on one hand and smiling softly.
"I followed the recipe exactly," he said after a few moments, musing. "Well. I made it better," he admitted. He drew designs on the table, the light wood letting the smear of his fingertip create patterns according to his will. First a Union Jack, then, just because it looked lonely, the Stars and Stripes. After staring at it for a moment, he frowned. He did not like that flag.
He slashes his hand through it and didn't redraw it, leaving only the Union Jack. After a few seconds of calm contemplation, he added the Saint George's Cross, his own personal flag as England, rather than the Unite Kingdom. He smiled, large brows seeming to soften his usually irritated expression into one of loving care.
He reached to take Alfred's hand in his own, taking the paper that had fallen on the table into his other hand. He examined the number, then tossed it in the trash. He held Alfred's hand more firmly after that.
"Do you want some tea?" He asked before chuckling. "Nevermind. You never want tea. I'll get you coffee." He kissed the soft hand in his own before standing and heading to the counter.
He knew just have Alfred like his coffee-- strong enough to have caffeine but not too bitter. Two scoops exactly into the filter, then the filter into the basket and some water into the back. He flicked the small switch, watching it light up with a dull orange color to indicate that the appliance was in use. His lips quirked into a smile. Alfred had always hated tea since the Boston Tea Party. Well, that little tiff was over now.
He waited patiently for the machine to stop its grumbles and hisses, hearing the sound of the liquid pour into the coffee pot in drips. He turned away and put water into the kettle so he could make tea for himself, spinning the knob to turn on the heat before leaning against the counter, elbows on it and letting his head fall back.
He sighed. "My, it's really something. You're lucky I have coffee for you, git." He closed his eyes, waiting for the sound of either of the objects to alert him.
He almost fell asleep, a light meditative state over taking his mind and leaving it bare of thoughts, merely contentment. A whistle broke it, though, letting him know the water was hot enough for the tea. He switched the heat off and poured the water in the cup, dropping in a tea bag of Earl Grey. Cliche, yes, but delicious.
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He let the tea steep and poured out a mug of coffee for Alfred, pouring in creamer til it paled and added enough sugar to feed and army of ants for a week before setting it before the American. "Isn't it nice? I made it just how you like it."
There was another knock at the door, shaking the barrier to the outside world. Arthur didn't even acknowledge it. Another knock, then more words, some worried and some angry.
He smiled blithely for a moment or two before turning his attention back to the tea. He picked up a small jug of milk, pouring it in over the dark liquid carefully to cool it and calm the bitterness, pulling out the bag and setting it aside. A few dollops of honey and it was perfect. He stirred with the small spoon, standing and watching the colors mix and felt the heavy clump of the viscous honey begin to melt.
The door flew open, making Arthur look up calmly, vaguely curious. "Hello," he greeted with a soft smile, still stirring the tea serenely.
Francis swooned at the sight of the corpse of the American, fainting immediately and falling. Ludwig stared at him coldly for a moment before sighing and turned his gaze to Arthur.
Arthur was a mess, clothing rumpled and ruined, some parts shredded and others gashed, blood sprayed over his blue vest. The American's hand had been manipulated to hold a hamburger, he saw, then narrowed his eyes. There was a deep gash across Alfred's throat, a mockery of a smile, and blood pooling on the floor and all over the body.
Arthur merely smiled and tilted his head in curiosity, then extended a hand with the tea cup on a saucer.
"Fancy a cuppa?"
Yay for crazy~! Sorry for no smexy time, OP! D: I didn't want to ruin the feeling of the distant sort of view, like an outsider looking on. It'd be too voyeuristic and then there's be the blood thing and the kill... ^^;; Anyhow, thanks to all who kept up and read my small little fic!
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And that last line? Dear god, Arthur. *twitches*
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And by the way, when I finished reading this five minutes before my class started, I was mumbling quietly to myself like "NOOOO! NOT ALFRED!! DAMN YOU ARTHUR! AHHHGHHH!" and my friends were looking at me weird.
But still, even without the smexy time, this is an awesome fill you've made Author!Anon.
Also, I see you've already de-non on FF.net ;D
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LOL Nice. I've done the same thing. All "No! Whyyyyy?!" and stuff.
Thank you~! :3
Indeed I have and I have been caught!!
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