Re: The Huntsman and the Wolf [1a/??]
anonymous
November 16 2009, 01:43:12 UTC
Alfred stops walking. He turns and gives his brother the incredulous eyebrow raise that Matthew can never quite take seriously on a face like his.
“Seriously?”
“Yes, seriously.”
“Matt. We’re in a friggin’ foreign country.”
“And? Can you do it or can’t you?” He’s beginning to feel that pleasant, nearly sadistic little niggling in the back of his head that tends to show up the few times he gains the upper hand against his brother.
Alfred stares him down. “Like you could do it.”
“Well. Since I’m so obviously worse at ‘nature’ than you are, it shouldn’t be a problem to show me that you can.A brief silence, Alfred toying with the camera strap and glancing at the setting sun. The thing is, he can’t refuse, because this is Alfred, and Alfred just doesn’t turn down dares. So Matthew’s won already, really. He would be worried, but “this is Alfred” works against that, too
( ... )
The Huntsman and the Wolf [4a/??]
anonymous
November 29 2009, 23:44:22 UTC
His eyes squeeze shut before he can think, leaving him with the imprint of long fangs inches from his cheeks, matted gray fur and oh God make it fast -
“How…boring.”
The world stops a little bit. The words are rough, almost lost in unrefined animal vocal cords, yet curiously gentle - soft and dangerous as they roll against his skin.
Strangely, the first thing Alfred feels is relief. Relief, because the wolf is talking now, crouched over him and talking, for Chrissake, and this can mean one of two things: Either he is dreaming, or he is already dead. He almost laughs and his lips twitch upwards, eyes still closed tight.
“What is funny?” the wolf asks - deadpans is the word Alfred would use to describe it, if wolves were capable of such tones. The voice is even closer now, the great head leaning in. “Look
( ... )
Re: The Huntsman and the Wolf [4b/??] Stupid post limit.
anonymous
November 29 2009, 23:45:12 UTC
“Wait - ”
He feels that he should really stand up, but it’s difficult with his ankle throbbing and those eyes boring into him like needles of ice and stars between the branches.
“I like challenges. So far, you have not been one. So I will give you a head start, yes?” Violet eyes widen and hackles rise in jagged lines. Lips pull back into a feral snarl and this creature is wild.
Alfred scrambles to his feet, barely touching the ground with his left.
“We will try again.”
The next word is guttural and no longer quiet, ripped from the animal throat like the thrill of the hunt and blood reflected in moonlight.
OP Flails
anonymous
November 30 2009, 00:23:54 UTC
OMG, OMG, OMG...seriously just seriously...this is... *flails*
Yeah I love Wolf!Ivan already his description is so perfect...and him finding Alfred boring is just so perfect. Honestly I don't think I could use the word perfect enough for this fic because it really, really is!
RIGHT. SO.
anonymous
December 17 2009, 02:39:11 UTC
Author!Anon is working, I swear. I've had a pretty crazy last few weeks (including a long visit from my genealogist grandma; turns out I'm freakin' PRUSSIAN), but now things are a bit better and I shall press forward. Pleeaaase accept my humblest apologies. I'm enjoying writing this, and I missed it.
Oh man...don't worry about it, real life is always more important and I'll happily wait a good long time for more of this beauty!
Coincidentally I discovered this week that one of my great grandmothers was from Austria...I'm pretty sure my mom was confused by my reaction to finding that one out...oh Hetalia how you make life fun in the most interesting ways these days.
“Seriously?”
“Yes, seriously.”
“Matt. We’re in a friggin’ foreign country.”
“And? Can you do it or can’t you?” He’s beginning to feel that pleasant, nearly sadistic little niggling in the back of his head that tends to show up the few times he gains the upper hand against his brother.
Alfred stares him down. “Like you could do it.”
“Well. Since I’m so obviously worse at ‘nature’ than you are, it shouldn’t be a problem to show me that you can.A brief silence, Alfred toying with the camera strap and glancing at the setting sun. The thing is, he can’t refuse, because this is Alfred, and Alfred just doesn’t turn down dares. So Matthew’s won already, really. He would be worried, but “this is Alfred” works against that, too ( ... )
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“How…boring.”
The world stops a little bit. The words are rough, almost lost in unrefined animal vocal cords, yet curiously gentle - soft and dangerous as they roll against his skin.
Strangely, the first thing Alfred feels is relief. Relief, because the wolf is talking now, crouched over him and talking, for Chrissake, and this can mean one of two things: Either he is dreaming, or he is already dead. He almost laughs and his lips twitch upwards, eyes still closed tight.
“What is funny?” the wolf asks - deadpans is the word Alfred would use to describe it, if wolves were capable of such tones. The voice is even closer now, the great head leaning in. “Look ( ... )
Reply
He feels that he should really stand up, but it’s difficult with his ankle throbbing and those eyes boring into him like needles of ice and stars between the branches.
“I like challenges. So far, you have not been one. So I will give you a head start, yes?” Violet eyes widen and hackles rise in jagged lines. Lips pull back into a feral snarl and this creature is wild.
Alfred scrambles to his feet, barely touching the ground with his left.
“We will try again.”
The next word is guttural and no longer quiet, ripped from the animal throat like the thrill of the hunt and blood reflected in moonlight.
“Run.”
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Yeah I love Wolf!Ivan already his description is so perfect...and him finding Alfred boring is just so perfect. Honestly I don't think I could use the word perfect enough for this fic because it really, really is!
Can't wait for the next part...pffft.
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PLEASE.
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Coincidentally I discovered this week that one of my great grandmothers was from Austria...I'm pretty sure my mom was confused by my reaction to finding that one out...oh Hetalia how you make life fun in the most interesting ways these days.
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