After World War Two (and after being pretty much shipped by good ol' Churchill) America decides it's time to let England know how he feels about him. It's a big mistake, because England turns him down. America keeps trying, England keeps refusing, but it's not because he outright doesn't like America- it's because every time America confesses it sounds like a joke, and part of England doesn't believe America because he doesn't think he's lovable. Happy ending not required, but it would be nice. <3
Bonus 1- America's innocent attempts to tell England how he feels turn into complete cracky disasters. Appearances of France trying to fix everything but just making it worse optional. Bonus 2- Not too much angst. 'Cause low self esteem is angsty enough!Anyway, please enjoy
( ... )
Author anon here
anonymous
October 24 2011, 04:00:47 UTC
Oh, wow. I'm blushing here, anon. Thank you very much for all your compliments and for taking the time to write, you really are too kind and more than I deserve. Hug? *hugs*
I'm so relieved you guys seem to like my Alfred...I was more than a little worried about writing him because I had absolutely no Alfred muse. I have an Arthur muse who likes to take over my life I don't complain though 'cause I like it a lot and I also have a very active Babymerica muse. But for grown-up Alfred? Eeeee...! I think I'm starting to figure out what to do with him, though. : )
Have a great day/night, and I'll be seeing you soon! <3
Re: Part V/? notes
anonymous
October 24 2011, 07:44:58 UTC
This anon majored in Journalism and Edward R Murrow is one of my heroes too! Winston Churchill is another, and I love you for including them!
Absolutely loved the interaction between Churchill and Arthur. I feel you really captured Churchill's character and him whacking Alfred with his cane? ROFLMAOoooooo
For one horrible month after the Battle of Thermopylae, Greece’s mother walked with a limp. Like a princess in a twisted fairy tale, Ukraine slept in a fitful slumber for a year after the Mongolian invasion. China suffered from nightmarish hallucinations after the Opium Wars.
And after the attack on Pearl Harbor, America went mute.
Never a big eater, Arthur is pushing food around on his dinner plate when he first hears the news. A large party has gathered at Churchill’s country residence, but Arthur’s mind continuously wanders back toward London. A perfectionist, he has no desire to momentarily leave the war be. Though there is work being done (Churchill and John Winant, the American ambassador to the United Kingdom, are inseparable), Arthur feels it is disrespectful to remove himself from the thick of things, to dictate war at so leisurely a pace.
A glance down the table at Churchill, head in his hands, softens his heart. Humans are only...well, human. Fragile for all their strength and
( ... )
Part VI/?, cont.
anonymous
November 6 2011, 02:36:25 UTC
The next day Arthur tries to contact Alfred through telegram: I am coming. Churchill will be with me.
Not half an hour later he receives Alfred’s reply: Don’t risk it - too dangerous. Later?
No, Arthur sends back. Now.
They arrive at the White House three days before Christmas. To Arthur, Christmas has not truly been Christmas for a few years now, and this Christmas is no different. There is no peace anywhere on earth this year, and goodwill toward men? In his anxious need to make sure Alfred was alright, he never paused to consider if Alfred would even want to see him; surely Alfred will never again cling to him and shout, “You’re here! I missed you!”
The First Lady pulls him aside.
“The dear boy is coping,” she says, “but it was a great, great shock to him. Poor thing hasn’t spoken a word since the attack.”
“Of course.” (Suppose the man should fall asleep, fall asleep.)“You will keep a special eye on him while you’re here, won’t you, Mr. Kirkland? He has always been very fond of you, and I don’t think anything any of us say
( ... )
Re: Part VI/?, cont.
anonymous
November 6 2011, 02:41:25 UTC
“No, listen when I’m talking. I should never have pressured you, should never have forced your hand. Neutrality is admirable in its way, wanting to keep your people safe. And I certainly should not have judged you for that after my own isolationism. I’m a selfish brute, and how you must resent me. So don’t...don’t pretend, Alfred. Don’t pretend that you’re glad to see me.”
Around them, men brag about whooping on the Japs. Women titter over how handsome all the men will be in their uniforms.
Alfred sadly studies Arthur across the table. He licks his lips and grabs a new napkin.
Entreat me not to leave thee, and to return from following after thee, for whither thou goest, I will go; and where thou lodgest, I will lodge; thy people shall be my people.
“I don’t know, Alfred,” Arthur sighs, shakes his head. “I just don’t know.”
Why does Alfred continue in this manner? It’s all too, too much, this realization that he wants at this very moment, more than anything, to hear Alfred’s voice. His need to hear Alfred’s voice is as strong as
( ... )
Re: Part VI/?, cont.
anonymous
November 6 2011, 02:47:00 UTC
“Oh.”
“But...damn.” Matthew drags the word out slowly, as though trying to encompass the entire breadth of the war in its utterance. “This war is going to change everything, and it’s going to change us, and we won’t even really know how much until years from now. I mean...brother, you should’ve seen her when Arthur and his men got there to liberate Brussels. She looked so exhausted - you could see the skeleton behind the woman, and almost the ghost behind the skeleton. She fainted when she saw him, and he was pretty worried about her.”
Alfred nods distractedly.
“...I think she’ll be okay, though, if you’re interested at all.”
“Okay!” Alfred snaps, “I get it! She’s awesome. Way awesome, in fact. I couldn’t agree with you more. Happy?”
“Just remember that she helped smuggle lots of your downed airmen to safety and kept them from becoming German prisoners of war. I don’t know - it might just be me, but I’d be thankful to her.” Matthew shrugs and lifts up his hands. “Like I said, though - that’s just me. Besides, I thought you liked
( ... )
Re: Part VI/?, cont.
anonymous
November 6 2011, 02:49:37 UTC
Sipping from what he considers one of the best cups of tea he’s ever had, he has been steadily working since mid-morning. A copy of All Quiet on the Western Front rests on the corner of the table; when he desires a break, he reads. He hears it was one of the books the Nazis burned with relish, but there are rumors Ludwig plucked as many copies of it from the bonfires as he could. (He also hears Ludwig saved several H.G. Wells novels from a similar fate, and Arthur wonders: how complicit was Ludwig in everything, really? Was it personal for him as well?)
He recognizes Alfred’s voice calling to him from the house and, twisting around in his chair, gives a slight wave.
“Hail to thee, blithe spirit,” he greets when Alfred, dressed in his white naval uniform, reaches him. “Am I underdressed, or are you overdressed?”
“Nah,” Alfred says, sheepishly raising a hand to the back of his head. “Besides, it’s really uncomfortable.”
“Still, it manages to make even you look presentable
( ... )
Part VI/?, cont.
anonymous
November 6 2011, 02:52:36 UTC
“Say, Artie.”
“Mmm?”
Alfred grips the sides of the table, and in the moment Arthur looks up to question him, he leans in and rests his forehead against Arthur’s. Alfred closes his eyes, and when he speaks his voice is low.
“Artie, don’t - don’t make fun of me. Maybe it is melodramatic, but I’ve never done this before and the movies are all I’ve got to go on.”
“Alfred - ”
“I’m just saying - what if I don’t come back, and I never told you how I felt? Because I plan on coming out alright, but no foolin’, half of me’s pretty scared.” Alfred moves his head and places his cheek beside Arthur’s - already with thee, tender is the night. “So I’m tellin’ you now: I love you a lot.”
Above them, the nightingale’s plaintive anthem fades past the near meadows, over the still stream, up the hillside.
Paralyzed until this very moment, Arthur finally panics. He roughly shoves Alfred away. “Get off, you - you stupid, selfish bastard! Get off!”Alfred stumbles back, eyes wide and mouth agape. Dazed, he watches Arthur stand, the chair falling to
( ... )
Re: Part VI/? notes
anonymous
November 6 2011, 02:58:22 UTC
Preview for Part VII: Various shenanigans at a world conference, ohonhonhon... At least, that’s the plan
In my little corner of the world it’s still November 5, so happy Guy Fawkes Night to those of you who celebrate it! ~BABY, YOU’RE A FIREWORK~
Eeeeee, I feel like it’s been a while since I updated. I’m sorry, gentle readers! I’m also not that proud of this chapter. I don’t know, it feels a little…perfunctory, I guess? I confess I’ve had several ideas for a future chapter involving France dance around in my head lately, so that made it a little difficult to focus.
Dear OP - I hope I’m adequately following your guidelines for the story. : ) Also, thank you again for this prompt, it’s such a gift. I hate my job (but am still very thankful to have one!), but coming home every day and getting to continue this story has put me in such a better mood. So thank you. <3 And thank you to the readers and the reviewers, I am the luckiest girl in the world! I am so glad you all still like it
( ... )
Re: Part VI/? notes
anonymous
November 6 2011, 04:24:32 UTC
Oh, dear. Dear you, wonderful A!A who brightens my day so with this exquisite piece of literature. And dear Arthur, poor darling Arthur, who doesn't accept love! I love how you took Arthur's canonical self-doubt, his awkwardness and self-deprecation and developed it into a truly tragic character study. God, the pain in his refusal to believe he's loved and the fear of letting others in! And yet you don't make him pathetic but strong and proud: this is an extraordinary feat, I think.
Alfred is just perfect here. I particularly loved how you refer to Alfred feeling the war as something personal, because of Arthur.
(The war is perhaps even more personal for Alfred than it is for Arthur; a long, steady love of Arthur has made everything personal since he was but a child. For Alfred, there has only ever been Arthur.)You know, of all my headcanon, I think this is the one I love the most: the idea that Arthur has always been the centre of Alfred's life, that he has loved him from the very beginning and that, for him, there's always been
( ... )
Re: Part VI/? notes
anonymous
November 6 2011, 14:31:23 UTC
OMG, that was the best part of the story so far! I love the concept of nations losing one of their 5 senses during a catastrophe! And I think you took a very fresh approach to WW2 and not just glossed over it - it's been done in great detail many-a-times before, but your short descriptions of it touched on many things that were never discussed in those, like the burning of books and Belgian's participation in WW2. I really loved the references to Keats and that failed attempt at confessing love really broke my heart - especially because it was right before Alfred was going to leave to fight Kiku and of course the controversial issue of the bomb. Touching on Alfred's fears of the possibility of nations dying was very appropriate for the scene too. And the balance with the description of the lovely scene and the dialogue and then the sudden break of the song and Arthur's snapping reply... OMG
( ... )
Re: Part VI/? notes
anonymous
November 6 2011, 20:03:42 UTC
Oh my, A!A you never, ever fail to leave me full of awe. You really don't need to feel not proud about this chapter, it's great! And you have some Alfred/Arthur moments that made my heart truly ache. Of course I felt very sorry for Arthur when he couldn't accept Alfred love, but I also felt sorry for Alfred because Arthur's rejection was (unintentionally) cruel in its own way. Yes, trying to be detailed about real histroy is difficult and could even slow down things too much, but I think you've found a good balance here. You're making the story progress and giving it a good, believeble context.
Author anon here
anonymous
November 6 2011, 06:27:23 UTC
I thought I changed it, but conveniently acting this whole time as though there is nothing between us should actually be as though there is no history between us. *headtodesk*
Original request and previous chapters here: http://hetalia-kink.livejournal.com/20749.html?thread=82831117#t82831117
After World War Two (and after being pretty much shipped by good ol' Churchill) America decides it's time to let England know how he feels about him. It's a big mistake, because England turns him down. America keeps trying, England keeps refusing, but it's not because he outright doesn't like America- it's because every time America confesses it sounds like a joke, and part of England doesn't believe America because he doesn't think he's lovable. Happy ending not required, but it would be nice. <3
Bonus 1- America's innocent attempts to tell England how he feels turn into complete cracky disasters. Appearances of France trying to fix everything but just making it worse optional.
Bonus 2- Not too much angst. 'Cause low self esteem is angsty enough!Anyway, please enjoy ( ... )
Reply
I'm so relieved you guys seem to like my Alfred...I was more than a little worried about writing him because I had absolutely no Alfred muse. I have an Arthur muse who likes to take over my life I don't complain though 'cause I like it a lot and I also have a very active Babymerica muse. But for grown-up Alfred? Eeeee...! I think I'm starting to figure out what to do with him, though. : )
Have a great day/night, and I'll be seeing you soon! <3
Reply
Absolutely loved the interaction between Churchill and Arthur. I feel you really captured Churchill's character and him whacking Alfred with his cane? ROFLMAOoooooo
Reply
London Bridge - Part VI
For one horrible month after the Battle of Thermopylae, Greece’s mother walked with a limp. Like a princess in a twisted fairy tale, Ukraine slept in a fitful slumber for a year after the Mongolian invasion. China suffered from nightmarish hallucinations after the Opium Wars.
And after the attack on Pearl Harbor, America went mute.
Never a big eater, Arthur is pushing food around on his dinner plate when he first hears the news. A large party has gathered at Churchill’s country residence, but Arthur’s mind continuously wanders back toward London. A perfectionist, he has no desire to momentarily leave the war be. Though there is work being done (Churchill and John Winant, the American ambassador to the United Kingdom, are inseparable), Arthur feels it is disrespectful to remove himself from the thick of things, to dictate war at so leisurely a pace.
A glance down the table at Churchill, head in his hands, softens his heart. Humans are only...well, human. Fragile for all their strength and ( ... )
Reply
Not half an hour later he receives Alfred’s reply: Don’t risk it - too dangerous. Later?
No, Arthur sends back. Now.
They arrive at the White House three days before Christmas. To Arthur, Christmas has not truly been Christmas for a few years now, and this Christmas is no different. There is no peace anywhere on earth this year, and goodwill toward men? In his anxious need to make sure Alfred was alright, he never paused to consider if Alfred would even want to see him; surely Alfred will never again cling to him and shout, “You’re here! I missed you!”
The First Lady pulls him aside.
“The dear boy is coping,” she says, “but it was a great, great shock to him. Poor thing hasn’t spoken a word since the attack.”
“Of course.” (Suppose the man should fall asleep, fall asleep.)“You will keep a special eye on him while you’re here, won’t you, Mr. Kirkland? He has always been very fond of you, and I don’t think anything any of us say ( ... )
Reply
Around them, men brag about whooping on the Japs. Women titter over how handsome all the men will be in their uniforms.
Alfred sadly studies Arthur across the table. He licks his lips and grabs a new napkin.
Entreat me not to leave thee, and to return from following after thee, for whither thou goest, I will go; and where thou lodgest, I will lodge; thy people shall be my people.
“I don’t know, Alfred,” Arthur sighs, shakes his head. “I just don’t know.”
Why does Alfred continue in this manner? It’s all too, too much, this realization that he wants at this very moment, more than anything, to hear Alfred’s voice. His need to hear Alfred’s voice is as strong as ( ... )
Reply
“But...damn.” Matthew drags the word out slowly, as though trying to encompass the entire breadth of the war in its utterance. “This war is going to change everything, and it’s going to change us, and we won’t even really know how much until years from now. I mean...brother, you should’ve seen her when Arthur and his men got there to liberate Brussels. She looked so exhausted - you could see the skeleton behind the woman, and almost the ghost behind the skeleton. She fainted when she saw him, and he was pretty worried about her.”
Alfred nods distractedly.
“...I think she’ll be okay, though, if you’re interested at all.”
“Okay!” Alfred snaps, “I get it! She’s awesome. Way awesome, in fact. I couldn’t agree with you more. Happy?”
“Just remember that she helped smuggle lots of your downed airmen to safety and kept them from becoming German prisoners of war. I don’t know - it might just be me, but I’d be thankful to her.” Matthew shrugs and lifts up his hands. “Like I said, though - that’s just me. Besides, I thought you liked ( ... )
Reply
He recognizes Alfred’s voice calling to him from the house and, twisting around in his chair, gives a slight wave.
“Hail to thee, blithe spirit,” he greets when Alfred, dressed in his white naval uniform, reaches him. “Am I underdressed, or are you overdressed?”
“Nah,” Alfred says, sheepishly raising a hand to the back of his head. “Besides, it’s really uncomfortable.”
“Still, it manages to make even you look presentable ( ... )
Reply
“Mmm?”
Alfred grips the sides of the table, and in the moment Arthur looks up to question him, he leans in and rests his forehead against Arthur’s. Alfred closes his eyes, and when he speaks his voice is low.
“Artie, don’t - don’t make fun of me. Maybe it is melodramatic, but I’ve never done this before and the movies are all I’ve got to go on.”
“Alfred - ”
“I’m just saying - what if I don’t come back, and I never told you how I felt? Because I plan on coming out alright, but no foolin’, half of me’s pretty scared.” Alfred moves his head and places his cheek beside Arthur’s - already with thee, tender is the night. “So I’m tellin’ you now: I love you a lot.”
Above them, the nightingale’s plaintive anthem fades past the near meadows, over the still stream, up the hillside.
Paralyzed until this very moment, Arthur finally panics. He roughly shoves Alfred away. “Get off, you - you stupid, selfish bastard! Get off!”Alfred stumbles back, eyes wide and mouth agape. Dazed, he watches Arthur stand, the chair falling to ( ... )
Reply
In my little corner of the world it’s still November 5, so happy Guy Fawkes Night to those of you who celebrate it! ~BABY, YOU’RE A FIREWORK~
Eeeeee, I feel like it’s been a while since I updated. I’m sorry, gentle readers! I’m also not that proud of this chapter. I don’t know, it feels a little…perfunctory, I guess? I confess I’ve had several ideas for a future chapter involving France dance around in my head lately, so that made it a little difficult to focus.
Dear OP - I hope I’m adequately following your guidelines for the story. : ) Also, thank you again for this prompt, it’s such a gift. I hate my job (but am still very thankful to have one!), but coming home every day and getting to continue this story has put me in such a better mood. So thank you. <3 And thank you to the readers and the reviewers, I am the luckiest girl in the world! I am so glad you all still like it ( ... )
Reply
Alfred is just perfect here. I particularly loved how you refer to Alfred feeling the war as something personal, because of Arthur.
(The war is perhaps even more personal for Alfred than it is for Arthur; a long, steady love of Arthur has made everything personal since he was but a child. For Alfred, there has only ever been Arthur.)You know, of all my headcanon, I think this is the one I love the most: the idea that Arthur has always been the centre of Alfred's life, that he has loved him from the very beginning and that, for him, there's always been ( ... )
Reply
Plus the way he wanted to be cheese with his love confession.
Reply
Reply
Yes, trying to be detailed about real histroy is difficult and could even slow down things too much, but I think you've found a good balance here. You're making the story progress and giving it a good, believeble context.
Can't wait for next chap :)
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