Are We Just Getting More {LOST}?
Title: YES & NO
Genre: Romance, SWASHBUCKLINGAction, Humor, AU (Alternate Universe)
Show/Anime: Axis Power Hetalia
Pairing(s): Alfred/Arthur (US/UK) & maybe others
Rating/Warnings: PG-13 -- Violence, Crude Humor & Sexual Content, Human Names
Summary: THERE'S A PIRATE ARTHUR AND AN ALFRED ADMIRAL. THEY GET INTO A FIGHT. MAGIC HAPPENS.
Heroes were a term that Arthur usually associated with fairy tales and flights of fancy.
Never would he have associated this term with an actual person.
And yet here he was facing off with a man with a determined set of blue eyes that shone even through the darkening sky. As thunder crackled, lightning struck in the distance, illuminating them as Arthur held his pistol toward the Naval officer who was still wet behind the ears. The British pirate watched him carefully as the Admiral Officer known as Alfred F. Jones slowly got on his feet again. Swaying as the full weight of the impact of being kicked roughly in the ribs with a (very sharp and rather painful) heeled boot hit him, he wrapped one arm around his waist as the other gripped his musket.
“I will… win this…” He spoke with a confident smirk, only earning him a deepened scowl in return.
Emerald eyes flickering in frustration and anger, why didn’t he just give up?! He obviously wasn’t going to win, what was the use…? Arthur didn’t reply the previous statement seeing as he felt no need to, holding up the pistol and cocking it. The light click of his gun signaled that it was ready to be fired, and lightning brightened the area once more. Arthur’s usually steady hand hesitated a moment as they looked into the other man’s eyes.
Alfred picked up on this, wondering if he’d actually live to tell another tale, since he was beginning to have his doubts. The pirate captain’s eyes lightening in hue and becoming… softer?
There was something about this so-called-hero’s eyes that really seemed to send a knife right to Arthur’s heart, there was something… so… familiar about them.
“Run out of bullets already…? Or are you simply attracted to me?” That horrid confidence in himself and hideous American accent brought him back. Emerald eyes dulled and hardened, and the captain quickly pulled the trigger, even though his aim faltered and he only managed to shoot him in the shoulder. The soldier screamed out in pain before collapsing forward in the sand, the rain pouring down on them as Arthur lowered his gun with a heavy sigh. A breath he hadn’t even realized he was holding escaped, and the Captain walking up to the fallen soldier. The blood from his wound was staining the sand; he was still alive… thank goodness.
Wait… what?
Arthur shook his head with a scowl, he was simply checking so that he’d have a suitable prisoner for… for something suitably important! Yes. He was the captain; therefore his crew would not judge his decision. Leaning over, the Brit picked up the younger male, tossing him over his shoulder. Christ, he was heavy! What the hell were they feeding these American naval brats?! After a moment of struggling with the unconscious body (no matter how wrong that sounded), Arthur decided it was in his best interests to drag him to the ship, because there was no way in bloody hell he’d make it five miles carrying this fat fool.
It was at least a day and a half before the brave hero finally awoke, straining to adjust to the sunlight pouring into what looked like a cross between a brig and a cabin. Alfred sat up with some difficulty, his ribs screaming at him while his shoulder seemed to throb with every pulse. But much to his surprise it was tenderly wrapped and cared for, not leaving much for infection… Raising his heroic eyebrow, he tried to place where he was. The swaying motion allowing him to recognize that he was in fact on a ship, though at the moment that movement wasn’t exactly welcome, Alfred figured he must be on that pirate's ship. It was the only explanation for this; after all he’d been shot and his ribs were broken. Suddenly feeling ill, he leaned over the side of the bed and heaved. After regurgitating whatever it was that he’d eaten before fighting, he swallowed the remnants with some disgust. His head was currently throbbing, what had that stupid pirate done dragging him all the way out here?! He had to get off this ship immediately, he had to get back and report to the higher-ups. Not to mention his crew must be worried sick, and he doubted that his brother Matthew would be able to hold command for too long. He was too….. too quiet. People would barely even realize he was there until Alfred would mention him, let’s not even get on the subject of that weird bear he carries everywhere like some sort of safety blanket. Not even that bear remembered Matthew-- … why was he second in command again? Alfred paused for a moment on that thought when the doors to his “cell” swung open. The sharp clack of thick heeled boots on the ground mixed with the light creak of the wood. Looking what Alfred considered over dressed, the British man looked rather smug as he looked down on the fallen American.
“Well, Mr. Hero. What do you think of your current situation?” The way he’d phrased that was obviously in biting sarcasm, not to mention a clearly rhetorical question. However this flew right over Alfred’s head and he thought maybe there was some genuine concern there.
“Well, I’ve been in worse situations I suppose. I’m still alive and therefore, can still make it out of here.” He nodded confidently with a sparkling smile that made Arthur’s eye twitch in mild irritation.
This stupid git had no idea had he? Just how much trouble he was in? That stupid grin… that… annoying… The captain’s teeth ground together, and he strained not to just pull out his sword and run him through right then and there. Maybe he would run him through right then and there… but no, no. He wanted this one alive; he wanted the satisfaction of wiping that idiotically arrogant grin from his face and make him finally admit there. Were. No. Heroes.
Perhaps he was just being spiteful against the American. Or maybe…
“So… do you typically starve your prisoners? Because I’m really hungry after throwing up and all, which by the way you'd have to clean that seeing that I'm injured,… maybe some water too. Water would be nice.”
“……”
“What?”
Oh my god… just what sort of military hired this man. He had to be… probably the lowest rank? The most inexperienced? Arthur stood there for a moment appalled, at such a stupid question…
Genre: Romance, SWASHBUCKLINGAction, Humor, AU (Alternate Universe)
Show/Anime: Axis Power Hetalia
Pairing(s): Alfred/Arthur (US/UK) & maybe others
Rating/Warnings: PG-13 -- Violence, Crude Humor & Sexual Content, Human Names
Summary: THERE'S A PIRATE ARTHUR AND AN ALFRED ADMIRAL. THEY GET INTO A FIGHT. MAGIC HAPPENS.
Heroes were a term that Arthur usually associated with fairy tales and flights of fancy.
Never would he have associated this term with an actual person.
And yet here he was facing off with a man with a determined set of blue eyes that shone even through the darkening sky. As thunder crackled, lightning struck in the distance, illuminating them as Arthur held his pistol toward the Naval officer who was still wet behind the ears. The British pirate watched him carefully as the Admiral Officer known as Alfred F. Jones slowly got on his feet again. Swaying as the full weight of the impact of being kicked roughly in the ribs with a (very sharp and rather painful) heeled boot hit him, he wrapped one arm around his waist as the other gripped his musket.
“I will… win this…” He spoke with a confident smirk, only earning him a deepened scowl in return.
Emerald eyes flickering in frustration and anger, why didn’t he just give up?! He obviously wasn’t going to win, what was the use…? Arthur didn’t reply the previous statement seeing as he felt no need to, holding up the pistol and cocking it. The light click of his gun signaled that it was ready to be fired, and lightning brightened the area once more. Arthur’s usually steady hand hesitated a moment as they looked into the other man’s eyes.
Alfred picked up on this, wondering if he’d actually live to tell another tale, since he was beginning to have his doubts. The pirate captain’s eyes lightening in hue and becoming… softer?
There was something about this so-called-hero’s eyes that really seemed to send a knife right to Arthur’s heart, there was something… so… familiar about them.
“Run out of bullets already…? Or are you simply attracted to me?” That horrid confidence in himself and hideous American accent brought him back. Emerald eyes dulled and hardened, and the captain quickly pulled the trigger, even though his aim faltered and he only managed to shoot him in the shoulder. The soldier screamed out in pain before collapsing forward in the sand, the rain pouring down on them as Arthur lowered his gun with a heavy sigh. A breath he hadn’t even realized he was holding escaped, and the Captain walking up to the fallen soldier. The blood from his wound was staining the sand; he was still alive… thank goodness.
Wait… what?
Arthur shook his head with a scowl, he was simply checking so that he’d have a suitable prisoner for… for something suitably important! Yes. He was the captain; therefore his crew would not judge his decision. Leaning over, the Brit picked up the younger male, tossing him over his shoulder. Christ, he was heavy! What the hell were they feeding these American naval brats?! After a moment of struggling with the unconscious body (no matter how wrong that sounded), Arthur decided it was in his best interests to drag him to the ship, because there was no way in bloody hell he’d make it five miles carrying this fat fool.
It was at least a day and a half before the brave hero finally awoke, straining to adjust to the sunlight pouring into what looked like a cross between a brig and a cabin. Alfred sat up with some difficulty, his ribs screaming at him while his shoulder seemed to throb with every pulse. But much to his surprise it was tenderly wrapped and cared for, not leaving much for infection… Raising his heroic eyebrow, he tried to place where he was. The swaying motion allowing him to recognize that he was in fact on a ship, though at the moment that movement wasn’t exactly welcome, Alfred figured he must be on that pirate's ship. It was the only explanation for this; after all he’d been shot and his ribs were broken. Suddenly feeling ill, he leaned over the side of the bed and heaved. After regurgitating whatever it was that he’d eaten before fighting, he swallowed the remnants with some disgust. His head was currently throbbing, what had that stupid pirate done dragging him all the way out here?! He had to get off this ship immediately, he had to get back and report to the higher-ups. Not to mention his crew must be worried sick, and he doubted that his brother Matthew would be able to hold command for too long. He was too….. too quiet. People would barely even realize he was there until Alfred would mention him, let’s not even get on the subject of that weird bear he carries everywhere like some sort of safety blanket. Not even that bear remembered Matthew-- … why was he second in command again? Alfred paused for a moment on that thought when the doors to his “cell” swung open. The sharp clack of thick heeled boots on the ground mixed with the light creak of the wood. Looking what Alfred considered over dressed, the British man looked rather smug as he looked down on the fallen American.
“Well, Mr. Hero. What do you think of your current situation?” The way he’d phrased that was obviously in biting sarcasm, not to mention a clearly rhetorical question. However this flew right over Alfred’s head and he thought maybe there was some genuine concern there.
“Well, I’ve been in worse situations I suppose. I’m still alive and therefore, can still make it out of here.” He nodded confidently with a sparkling smile that made Arthur’s eye twitch in mild irritation.
This stupid git had no idea had he? Just how much trouble he was in? That stupid grin… that… annoying… The captain’s teeth ground together, and he strained not to just pull out his sword and run him through right then and there. Maybe he would run him through right then and there… but no, no. He wanted this one alive; he wanted the satisfaction of wiping that idiotically arrogant grin from his face and make him finally admit there. Were. No. Heroes.
Perhaps he was just being spiteful against the American. Or maybe…
“So… do you typically starve your prisoners? Because I’m really hungry after throwing up and all, which by the way you'd have to clean that seeing that I'm injured,… maybe some water too. Water would be nice.”
“……”
“What?”
Oh my god… just what sort of military hired this man. He had to be… probably the lowest rank? The most inexperienced? Arthur stood there for a moment appalled, at such a stupid question…