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Post by Deleted on May 17, 2015 21:32:17 GMT -5
His entire being was alive. Night after night, no breath after breath morning, noon, night, and all the times in-between, Kiku’s lungs burned. His skin felt small, scratchy. He wanted to tear it away; he wanted to screech. At his back he may have left China, wounded and aware of the force he’d unleashed, but he’d not released the fury. It was a swarm in a frenzy. It did not leave his mind. It did not quieten. It buzzed and droned and kept him awake at night.
Yao was on the other side of the world. Kiku was with Alfred now. Did Alfred notice the circles under his eyes? Did his unusual hush disturb him? He knew he had not smiled since he’d first came to Alfred, requesting a place to rest. A safe, guarded place. His gaze was hollow and when it wasn’t it was dark and consuming. Decades of greed and callous ignited once more within his brown eyes and they seemed to glow like claret wine: blood red. Decades of peace had been shattered—he had been shattered. The cracks glistened in the light. Sweet, serene Kiku…was he still alive? Was his heart still fluttering like a beautiful bird? Was he still smiling somewhere as he laid in the sun?
Japan was in agony.
How should one respond to decades’ worth of efforts now done in vain? He had been diplomatic. He had been non-violent. Every consequence from his position in World War II he had taken in stride, without complaint. He had tried to mend his fences and he had loved Yao. Japan had dropped its arms like America had dropped his bombs.
Peace. More like a sign of weakness. If you tried to avoid a fight, you were seen as cowardly not logical. His peace and defense had cost him dearly and now he vibrated in wrath. It rattled against his ribs.
Kiku’s eyes peered ahead of seeing land ripe for the taking, nations to be punished. He stared out like a man to be feared. His heart drummed steadily. A beat of waiting, the steps of the cat stalking the mouse. And his grins? Japan smiled velvet smiles. They were dark and promising. Alfred had a darkness in his gaze and expression. Now Japan mirrored it and his body thrummed.
He saw in Alfred’s household staff. They saw him as he fiddled restlessly. Watched as he stared out America’s bay windows to the East and schemed. His mouth always twisted. Little demure Japan; he was still there. Kiku was still serene and respectful. He still tasted the atmosphere before he spoke, but he was bolder now. How foolish Russia was with his Pact.
How foolish he’d been to allow China to act as he did. Emotions were such funny little things weren’t they? How desperation and fear made everything so clear. It was like fire: it showed our weaknesses. Yao had been too rash…
Now there was a third chess player in this game.
Yet he knew there was one thing that needed to be clear on the board from here on out. He was not out for mere revenge. Revenge was blight. It corroded the soul. His desire to crush Yao, Ivan, and those who had allied behind them would not ease the anger he felt. (Damn, it would feel good, though.) He was in this to teach a lesson.
Never underestimate. Never allow your appetites to become bigger than you. And never ever let wrongs go unpunished. It was time the Pact learned and Japan was more than happy to teach them. The time for words had passed, however.
Demonstration then. Pain.
Yet his mind was lost in tumult. He had too much tension and rage seething in his bones. He needed to channel it.
He needed release.
His hair was still slightly damp, though the rest of his body was dry.
Kiku lied stretched on the bed head pillowed by one arm while the other held a hardback back open. The pads of his fingers against the cover felt the coarse weave of its bind. He sighed every now then at the almond, vanilla, and floral scent that twined together into that “old book” scent. It made him smile. This was Alfred’s book, one that had been well-read and well loved. It was warped and the book had not threatened to close on him. America had read this book often and as he’d discovered it on his nightstand it appeared he’d picked up the fancy to peruse it again. Surely he wouldn’t mind that Japan was reading it.
Surely he wouldn’t mind that Japan was in his bed either. He’d not missed the way Alfred too had been preoccupied, edgy. He could feel the strain in him too. And Kiku had been so quiet and solitary.
The bed smelled of Alfred, leather and spice. He also breathed it in as he snuggled deeper into his arm. The dark blankets pooled around his naked waist and the muscles of his back flexed in the light. He smiled into the pages of the book. Alfred’s bed was always so comfortable, not as comfortable as the nation who slept in it, though.
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Post by Deleted on May 19, 2015 12:28:24 GMT -5
Not long before, Alfred invited Kiku to stay at his house. When he extended the invitation, he hoped that it would be under better circumstances, but they would have to make due with what they had.
Alfred was not exactly quiet when it came to voicing (and acting out) his displeasure. Oh yes, he was furious at this latest development. He was angry from the moment China sent him that picture, but once he learned exactly how Kiku ended up in that position?
There was no masking it - Alfred wanted to witness Yao curled up in a puddle of his own blood. This was war. It was one thing to attack someone. It was another entirely to shoot one's own brother in the back when it was painfully clear that said brother's issue was not with you.
People spoke of the force that awoke within Alfred the day that Kiku attacked him without warning in 1941. I fear all we have done is to awaken a sleeping giant and fill him with a terrible resolve, one of Kiku's general once said. Yao awoke that same force within Kiku, Alfred could tell as much already.
After all, he'd experienced it himself.
He and Kiku had since forgiven each other for their past transgressions, of course. They wouldn't be where they were today were it not for that. Now Kiku was one of Alfred's best friends and closest allies, and thus seeing him attacked in this way brought forth a strong ire toward the nation that delivered the blow to Kiku.
Alfred respected Ivan as an enemy. He found it much harder to respect Yao as an enemy when he not only condescended to both Alfred and Ivan constantly, but stooped this low in an effort to attack someone who was still mostly neutral.
The younger nation, too, needed some sort of release. The stress was starting to get to him, as was his temper. Just recently he'd neglected to hold back on his strength when he was shutting a cabinet, resulting in the cabinet shattering.
Perhaps he would take a nap. It wouldn't help for long, nor would it rid him of the bags under his eyes, but it might help to clear his head slightly. He stripped out of his day clothes and into his boxers. He ventured into his bedroom only to find a pleasant surprise on his bed.
Japan. And what a delicious sight of Japan it was. Alfred's tongue flicked over his lips. Perhaps he would have to put that nap on hold.
"Kiku," Alfred's voice cut through the silence at last as he took a seat on his bed beside Kiku. He ran a hand gently over the older nation's back, careful to avoid areas that still might be sensitive from his wounds.
"How are you feeling?" Alfred was feeling a large array of emotions at once - Frustration, anger, guilt, relief, happiness, and lust. But he needed to gauge how Kiku was feeling before he acted on any of this.
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Post by Deleted on Jun 18, 2015 20:40:33 GMT -5
Kiku would be the first to admit this wasn’t what he’d had in mind when he’d hoped to visit America in the future. This hadn’t been how he’d imagined nor wanted to accept his invitation and in fact he’d apologized the moment he’d stepped foot into the nation’s home. Yet it could not be helped. Circumstances as they were, he was still in need of recuperation and Alfred had been his only choice at the time.
Now he’d plunged the house into even more tension than it’d seen before. He knew America had received a photo from China himself when he’d been shot. Yet in a way it was comforting to see America so angry on his behalf. Someone else cared and it went a long way in soothing the raw place on his heart still throbbing from China’s betrayal.
Japan had looked up to China, despite their differences. He loved the older nation who had found him and nurtured him and given him so much. He had loved him so much that he never took offense to his sour words about America and how he’d westernized. He loved Yao.
Then Yao had shot him.
A part of Japan took it in stride. He’d attacked China without remorse and wasn’t this just karma? That the wounds physically healed, but China was still mad? He’d stabbed in the back so Yao had shot him. Yet the other part of the island nation roared. Years of peace and controlled temper cracked like the faults around his island. China and those of the Pact who had condoned such a thing had awoken a sleeping giant; they’d pulled a force from its slumber that they would rue.
He would watch Yao quake and break before him once more. Just had he all those years ago and he would lick the tears from his cheeks and the blood from his blade.
He still felt guilty that America had been brought into the conflict between him and Yao, however. He wished China could have kept America out of it, but if he hadn’t would he have ended up here? With the person he perhaps wanted the see the most?
He saw America enter from the corner of his eyes, but didn’t set the book aside as he took him in furtively. If America thought Japan looked delicious it was nothing to how appealing the Asian nation found Alfred. His lips curled ever-so-slightly.
“The wounds are healed. Painless,” he responded and placed the book back on the nightstand where he’d found it. He turned his head to Alfred and reached up to gently remove his glasses. “And you, Alfred-kun,” he smiled softly. “Your expression has been so stern…I do wish you would smile.”
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Post by Deleted on Jul 15, 2015 12:28:20 GMT -5
Alfred was happy to have Kiku around, to have Kiku away from the dangers that threatened him back home. Alfred's home was a lot more secure. Yet whenever he was reminded of the reason why Kiku was at his home in the first place he found it incredibly hard to control his temper. Whenever he was in a mood like this, bad things were apt to happen to those who brought about such feelings.
The only thing stopping him from going after China right then and there was that it wasn't the right time. If and when that time came, he had no plans to hold back. He knew that China wouldn't take the threat seriously...his head was far too inflated for such a thing. That was another reason why Alfred wanted to see Yao on his knees...he could really stand to be knocked down a few notches.
That picture though...yes, Alfred kept that picture as a reminder. A reminder that China was to be shown no mercy when the time came. A reminder that China was a coward who shot his brother when his back was turned, when his brother's issue wasn't with him but with another nation entirely. Before, it was Russia pushing Japan into the war, but it was China that gave him that final shove.
Kiku assured him that his wounds were healed and painless. At least the physical wounds were. Alfred knew better than to assume that all of Kiku's wounds would be healed any time soon.
"Good," he murmured nevertheless, moving closer to Kiku. He wanted things around his house to be as comfortable for Kiku as he could make them after what happened.
Alfred was mildly surprised when Kiku reached forward to remove his glasses, but nowhere near as surprised as he was when Kiku told him to smile. He hadn't even realized that he wasn't smiling much. Of anyone who could request for him to smile, however...the corners of Alfred's mouth twitched upward as he had an idea. "Well that's one wish granted. What are your other two wishes?"
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Post by Deleted on Aug 30, 2015 21:04:34 GMT -5
Japan remembered his youth as a country, when he’d just come of age. When he was Alfred’s age as well. Him and Yao were still on good terms then; they visited each other often. They often sat out and watched the stars, the rabbit making mochi in the moon. He remembered their conversations. How good those times had been, but then time happens didn’t it? He’d gone into seclusion and then the West came and he saw so many amazing things. He’d never wished to grow apart from China. In fact, even now, he still loved him. Still he couldn’t blame America’s anger, but in the end China had wronged him, not Alfred. Alfred put too much pressure on himself being angry at him.
Japan wanted the tension to cease. Nothing could be done about it now, best save the fire for when it was right. Even then, though. Japan sighed. If Yao could be called soft for him, then the same was true for Kiku. If anyone was going to harm China, it would be him. This was a feud between families. He appreciated the fire that burned in Alfred at Yao’s rudeness, his cowardice in shooting him when he had been turned. Japan found it very attractive to be cared about so deeply, but China was his to deal with.
The glasses he’d taken were set aside and he welcomed America closer. He’d seen Alfred’s anger in person, felt its pain. He didn’t want America to ever lose himself like that again. It always lead to regret. He placed his hand on the blonde’s chest and stared into his blue eyes. Such features were so foreign in Japan. So beautiful to his people: blonde, blue eyed. And so very breathtaking when he smiled. Kiku’s own lips tilted up and he chuckled. His brown eyes danced in mischief.
One wish granted, hm?
He curled Nantucket around a finger and smirked. “My other wishes,” he used the strength of his lithe body to pull Alfred beneath him. He settled around his hips and leaned down. “I wish for you to kiss me, Alfred-kun,” he whispered.
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Post by Deleted on Sept 19, 2015 10:28:25 GMT -5
Alfred felt the need to do something. He'd come to care for Kiku deeply, and such an attack against one of his closest allies and friends perhaps more than friends felt on par with an attack on himself. He was close to making a deal with China before he attacked Kiku, but there was no chance of that now. Or, at the very least, if he made such a deal, there would be no chance of him actually keeping his word..
If he knew Kiku's view on the matter, he'd understand where Kiku was coming from. Family feuds were something that Alfred could relate to painfully well. He'd never, ever regret his independence, but he did catch himself occasionally wishing that he'd obtained it under better circumstances. He wished it hadn't come to blows. He wished that Arthur would have just accepted that he and his people were ready to govern themselves. And yet...Alfred was proud of what he'd done. He'd established that he could win a battle against one of the most powerful armies in the world as only a fledgling nation. And now...
Now he was a superpower. Now he had one of the most powerful armies in the world. He'd come a long way in such a short period of time.
Alfred was mildly surprised to find his and Kiku's positions switched. Kiku straddled his hips while Alfred lay with his back to the bed. He smirked as the smaller nation whispered his second wish. "Hmm...as you wish," He used his own strength to pull Kiku closer to him. Alfred's lips met Kiku's, but they didn't just stay there. They traveled to his ears, down his neck, even onto the other nation's chest. It was as if he wanted to lay claim to every part of Kiku that his lips touched. "Mm, mine," he murmured against Kiku's skin as, his lips traveling back to Kiku's.
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Post by Deleted on Dec 2, 2015 20:48:38 GMT -5
He was Japan. He was the nation who kept calm and read the atmosphere while he formulated an appropriate response. At least he’d have liked to think he was that nation most of the time, but he knew Alfred wasn’t that nation. Alfred was rash, beautiful, but so very dangerous in his own right and Japan knew that what had happened between he and China had not just felt like an attack on the Asian, but the American as well. Yao had, after all, sent him the text with his picture attached. Had China not learned what happened when you drew the ire of America? Did he truly think he and the other nations in the Pact would save him?
Japan knew the consequences of not keeping one’s word. He’d done it to America, but despite his earlier thought, China wasn’t someone to underestimate either.
Kiku had never had to fight for his independence. For that he was thankful, but in the end, that changed nothing. This was his and Yao’s dispute, and Alfred would be playing into the hands of Yao if he responded in the way Japan knew he wanted to. He just hoped he could be brought to his senses before that. Now wasn’t the time to speak on that, however. He and Alfred were in need of forgetting, and Japan was rather manipulative. He wanted to channel Alfred’s ire into a different sort of passion. Let him release his tension in a more enjoyable way for the both of them.
He chuckled against the lips that swallowed his, he sank into the arms that pulled him close to the other nation. He sighed and rumbled in pleasure as those lips didn’t just stay stationary. His own hands tucked into Alfred’s blonde hair and his dark, brown eyes opened into slits as he smiled in a most feline way. “Yours,” he questioned before taking America’s lips once more. He licked along them. “Mmm, I think you need to conquer me some more before I agree with you.”
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do not forget me
About thirty years ago, Israel's boss was assasinated. By who, well, no one knows, but Israel immediately blamed Iran. Of course, that alone wouldn't have started World War III, even though Israel and Iran's various allies declared war in quick succession.
Nah, the nuclear bomb in the middle of Jerusalem probably did it.
Now? Now the rest is history. The world's been at war for thirty years, thirty years of bloodshed and pain. No one else has reached for the nuclear option quite yet, but no one's happy. So if we all die- well, do not forget me, okay?
updates
10/15/2020 Do Not Forget Me: a dark hetalia RPG is re-opened!
credits
Do Not Forget Me was created by Waffles and Jonathan and amazing layout and coding is thanks to SO-4 . Content is copyrighted to Do Not Forget Me unless otherwise stated. The skin is created by Wolf of Gangnam Style. The board and thread remodel is by Kagney The mini-profile remodel is by Trinity Blair of Adoxography. Thanks!
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