Monster CH 6Monster CH 6 by Quizle
It was put of the question that any wind would blow inside Alfred's room, deep underground, yet it didn't stop the lamp, that hung from the ceiling by a thin wire, from swaying to and fro, forcing the shadows to either stretch out or flee from the light. However, the lamp was not Alfred's concern- the young man was fast asleep, sprawled out on the bed with the book he had been reading resting, cover-up, on his face. It didn't seem to bother him, though, as his lips formed a smile against the paper.
Alfred really had nothing to smile about. Behind his smile, which seemed like it had been forced onto his face and made permanent by some spell, hid a scared boy who was at a loss as to what to do.
They hadn't let him go see Arthur today... They said he hadn't taken the experiments very well... Alfred had no idea what that meant. ... Arthur could be dead for all he knew and that thought had scared Alfred so much he had to excuse himself from work, bringing the excuse of a headache.
1953-1962 USUK Ch 7. 1959“Would you take it off?”1953-1962 USUK Ch 7. 1959 by blueseer
“Take what off?” America squinted at the moving pictures on the television set, not even bothering to take a look at the man speaking to him. He never once noticed his guest standing there by his side for some time now, waiting for a reaction that never came.
“The blasted beret.” England crossed his arms as he continued standing and looking down at the American slouching down on the couch, a bowl of chips in his lap. The seated nation’s hands occasionally grabbed one of the crispy snacks causing a loud crunching to come out of his mouth.
“What? Why?” America asked, “I’m an all natural shape in a drape.”
Finally breaking his focus away from the magical box, America turned his head and gave a lopsided smiled. “You wanna see the shape in action?” he winked.
“Ow…”He exclaimed as the Brit snatched the hat off his head and happily gave him a good
5024 V.S 1673 Ch. 115024 V.S 1673 Ch. 11 by DredPirateBones
Chapter 11: Satan Walks Into A Bar
“You dance pretty well,” Francis said off handedly, almost casually, as he leaned on Arthur’s door way. “For a pirate.” Arthur stopped trying to repair his broken mirror, which he had ignored up until that point, with delicate strands of magic.
“What are you going on about?” He asked as he turned around. Static, Arthur thinks, this conversation is going to be nothing but static. A pointless drone that neither irritates, although it should, nor does it have a specific point that’s it’s trying to reach.
Francis smirked knowingly. “You dancing around Alfred, is what I’m ‘going on about’,” and he had the audacity to try and mimic Arthur’s accent. Arthur quickly shoved the static comment out the window. This wasn’t going to be static, no; it was going to be a hurricane.
“What?” Arthur’s voice was wary, though his eyes didn’t show how nerv
Don't Mess with the British EmpireIt was during the Imperial century when England had begun to learn many things about himself. It wasn't anything to do with his own country but merely his own self, who he was as a person, what he wanted to be, and what he wanted to gain. After the victory over Napoleon England was left with no serious international rival, of course Russia had always been considered some sort of threat to him, but on the sea, England was unchallenged. England had been standing tall on the steamship that powered onwards across the choppy seas that lay endlessly before him, his seas that he had policed with his supreme power.Don't Mess with the British Empire by jillyred
Ten million square miles of territory making the British Empire the largest by far, it made him feel big, unstoppable, and invincible. England had found himself grinning and scowling out at the vast seas around him each time he had set sail on a voyage out into the seas he had claimed as his own.
A bittersweet smile of power and yet an overbearing loss that consumed his heart during
APH - USUK: Oh, Who Would Ever Want to Be King[February 6th, 1952]APH - USUK: Oh, Who Would Ever Want to Be King by YecatsCullenLOTR
"He's dead, America."
The American nation turned around abruptly in the British estate, jumping up from the couch as he heard his lover's voice.
England leant there, against the doorway of the study, in a sopping wet coat, dripping onto the carpet. America flinched at the Brit's paler-than-normal skin, and his shaking body.
"Jeez, Iggy, get out of that coat! It's freezing out there!"
England didn't move, didn't even chastise the other for the nickname as America quickly stripped him off the clothes, didn't even pay attention to the chattering of his own teeth. America himself did not want to remember the words the older nation had spoken in a deadpan as he entered.
"England. Hey, England." No answer. Just a blank stare, and a cold shaking that was startlingly familiar to America.
"ENGLAND!" That snapped him out of it. The older nation flinched slightly, before turning a more accustomed glare on the American. "What, you git?" "You kinda spaced out there, babe."
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