USUKUS Twice Per Year 2024-1: "Cards, with Spades to Start"
After many delays, at last: Featuring 7 fanfics and 12 fanarts by 18 dedicated creators, people have come together to celebrate one of this fandom's most beloved 'verses. From the comedic to the tragic, we hope you'll find something new to love about Cardverse!
Additionally! Stay tuned, as the Admin Team has an announcement to make within the next 24~48 hours.
Hi everyone! This is the first issue this year of the USUKUS Valentine's Day event for 2022!
What is this event?
This is a revitalization of our older event back in 2018, brought about by some of the users from our (Discord). It involves an artwork or fic that would contain one point of view from a character (America or England), and will be continued by that individual's partner on White Day on March 14, 2022.
Who's Participating?
For this year, here's our lineup for those extension links outside of Tumblr. Thank you so much guys for your hard work and participation! Take a look at these amazing works:
"Chocolates and a Letter" - Fic by DemonicPiano
"to me, you're the first prize" - Fic by nyoengland
"Maybe One Day" - Fic by ixiepixie
That concludes Valentine's Day part 1! So far, they've been Discord exclusive, but we hope to change some of that in the future if the Tumblr community wants to extend a creative hand. For future events, drop us an ask and tell us if you'd like to participate in some of these events.
A/N: Originally written after the resurfacing an old screenshot of a text conversation, but this time, it has a better ending. Initially intended for a twiceperyear event, draft number 2. Re-written again, due to personal indulgence. You can take this as a spiritual successor to my other fic here, but you do not need to read it to understand it.
Summary: Arthur is a man who doesn’t know how to eat a proper meal. Alfred is a vampire that can’t eat a proper meal because Arthur doesn’t know how to eat a proper meal. Vampire!AU
Rating: T
Characters: America/England (USUK)
A/N: Written for @orestiad for her birthday, late to post on Tumblr because I forget I have an account. Hope ya’ll like it.
Hello everyone! With the @usukustwiceperyear collection released, I can finally show yall what I worked on!
Over the years I've been rly inspired by all those pics of Astronaut Alfred and Britannia Angel Arthur floating around in space together, so I knew I was gonna head that direction when the theme was announced. As I drew the piece, I was listening to "I Saw You in a Dream" by the Japanese House and it made me take a sad turn w it, lol. I can't decide if Astronaut Al is actually there with Arthur, or if he's just dreaming about it, but regardless this piece is a bittersweet one abt love and loss.
Make sure you check out everyone else's works over on the twice per year page, people really worked their butts off and the whole collection is real good!
You Won’t Believe What’s In Your Local Swamp! (Part 3)
(Part 2) (AO3)
“Arthur?”
“Hmm?”
“Your pH strip is soggy.”
Arthur blinked out of his stupor, shaking his head to compose himself as he pulled out the strip out of the beaker. The poor thing was completely sopping wet, quite practically just a darker version of itself before Arthur had put it in. Frowning, he set the paper down and looked in the direction of his partner, who gave him a humored expression in response.
“So,” João teased, leaning over the lab table with a grin so annoying that Arthur debated about actually punching him.
“I’ve been meaning to talk to you about your… performance lately.”
Arthur gave him a half hearted eye roll before attempting to examine the color of the paper slip in question. There was no color that could be discerned now that it was drenched, so he tossed it and pulled out another strip from the container.
“You’re not my boss,” Arthur argued, eyes still fixed on the task at hand. “But if it counts, I apologize for the time that I ate your Bifana. Now can you leave me alone? I can’t concentrate with you around.”
João snorted, rolling his eyes. “You haven’t been able to concentrate already, Arthur. Don’t push me away because I’m right. You’re distracted about something. We should talk.”
“There’s nothing to talk about, Jo,” Arthur insisted, checking the color of the new strip before immediately going to grab the Pyrex vial from the other side of the room. When Arthur returned, he grabbed the beaker with the lake water, eyeballing the amount to pour into the smaller container.
He made the mistake of absently looking at João, who met his gaze half way and witnessed the whole process of Arthur very much attempting to ignore him. He smiled and Arthur’s frown deepened.
“It’s a guy, isn’t it?”
“It’s not, ” Arthur countered sternly, voice straining to withhold an ungodly amount of irritation from spilling out. He set the glass device down before he could break it, leaning on the counter with his forearms on the table. Arthur shot him a glare. “And what’s gotten you so curious today? You must be jealous of something I’ve done, surely.”
The Portuguese man laughed, waving a hand in dismissal as he simply just leaned on the opposing counter, hands in his pockets as he relaxed his posture. He wasn’t doing work either, which Arthur observed. It was nothing unusual; João and his cousin Antonio were always the types to bother everyone before returning to their own business, and even then, they often didn’t usually get a lot done until the day before the lab results were due.
“Maybe,” João hummed. “Francis was the one who wanted to ask you initially what was wrong. He said you dropped the reptile assignment offer, which is not like you at all.”
What’s it to you? Arthur thought bitterly.
“The entire team’s been trying and keeping an eye on what you’re up to. You’re not very good at keeping secrets.”
“And you’re not very good at being subtle,” Arthur groaned, nearly slamming a second beaker on the table when he put it down. Typical. “But alright. I’ll humor your questions. Though if I do, you have to do the rest of these labs and let me leave early. I’m starting to develop a migraine just smelling this filthy swamp water.”
“Deal.”
With a start, Arthur tried to relax his brow and took a deep breath to ease his mind. It was the first time he had directly even attempted to think about it since the strange encounter a week ago, but all of it was as clear as if it had only happened a few hours prior.
The scene was as if it were something out of a science fiction movie, complete with bad acting from Arthur’s part. Arthur did not really consider himself a movie person (not really), but he definitely thought he had seen something of similar anatomy in a film, or at least a book. An image began in his head of a creature on all fours crawling out of the swamp near his house, drenched in mud and moss. It was not any animal that Arthur would have expected to come out of such a small swamp in the middle of Florida, and even if he could see the clean version of the creature, he guessed he still wouldn’t be able to understand what it was.
Its bottom half was most definitely an alligator, Arthur asserted, and that was already obvious. Arthur had come across one too many to not recognize what it looked like. But the top half? It was a human. It certainly had to be.
In consideration for the other part, Arthur knew enough human anatomy to perhaps guess that too. The fundamentals of learning reptilian anatomy often stemmed from the knowledge of what a normal human inner body would look like, what with the basics of the skeletal system and perhaps some muscular, artery or venous processes.
This was, quite frankly, chimera levels of anatomy. Arthur couldn’t even shake the thought of it; he even had dreams in the evening of trying to capture that thing’s skeleton! It’s vertebrae were likely human near the top, fusing somewhere along the line to become some alligators at the bottom. How did the thing breath under the water if it had a nose? How could the creature see? Did it have three eyelids or just one? Could it speak?
“Arthur, you’re staring again.”
“Shut the bloody hell up, João,” Arthur snapped, heart beat rising. The realization of himself deep within his own thoughts caught onto him only then, and he fought to keep his mind in the present. Arthur exhaled to prevent the second outburst from coming. His therapist had already warned him about his habit of temper, but he wouldn’t lose it today. At least not on João, who was probably the most tolerable on the team secondary to Ludwig.
“Sorry, sorry. I apologize,” Arthur sighed. “I’m … stressed. Which you may already know. It’s nothing, though. I just saw something at home the other day, in the bayou. I think it’s just my imagination.”
“Oh,” João’s tone sounded less teasing now and Arthur tried to appreciate it despite how clear that it was that João was not going to comprehend it at all. “Encountered your first wild and dangerous animal then?”
“Not my first,” Arthur grumbled, running a hand through his hair. “It’s just complicated. It nearly attacked me and I’d rather not talk about it. I haven’t been able to sleep well for the last few days.”
Arthur didn’t want to admit it to the others, but he had also booked a nearby motel to stay at while he was still trying to process what the hell was in his backyard. He wanted to stay the hell away from that thing as much as possible and this solution had worked somewhat. At some point, however, Arthur knew he would have to return to the home, if not to just rid his fridge of the perishables or take out the trash before it stunk up the place. But how could he? Arthur barely could compose himself thinking about the creature; he was practically unable to bring himself to return back into those marshes with that thing still there.
“Sure, Arthur sure. I’ll take it from here,” João smiled warmly, hand on Arthur’s shoulder as he went to retrieve the container of lake water from the table. “Just get some rest. Whatever it is that you saw out there, you can always call the exterminator. Like it or not, they might be able to find someone who can deal with whatever problem you have. Or just deal with it yourself, of course. Within reason.”
“Thanks,” Arthur practically breathed in relief, wasting no time in already heading for the door, already removing his lab goggles and coat.
“Arthur?”
“Yes?”
“You owe me a week of Bifanda.”
“Fine.”
He was going to catch the thing in his backyard.
Arthur could not tell if it was the caffeine in the tea he had received from the cafe that spurred his thoughts, nor was he sure if it was spontaneously of his own accord. However, as his new plan evolved into sure certainty, it left the herpetologist free reign to visit every part of town to prepare for what was, quite frankly, a war.
A quick visit to Cabella’s yielded him a rope, a large crate and a snare pole, but also a new pair of shoes and a pith helmet that was long overdue for a purchase as well. The intention was to at least figure out a way to restrain it, but after browsing the aisles for a while, he pondered about the other possible circumstances.
Wrestling gators was not necessarily a strong option for Arthur; he had done football in his youth of course, but it could hardly be called any form of previous experience. The most he could perhaps do was to restrain the bottom half of the alligator by pinning it between his legs and sitting upon its back lightly, forcing it to have less of a chance to move or wriggle out of his grasp. That was the first part of the solution.
However, there was another human element he had to consider as well; the upper torso.
The thing didn’t have the iconic maw that was so feared by so many. But in a weird way of considering it, Arthur could handle this without much worry for any bites that could take out a limb or two. Though, as it turned out, that also eliminated the option of duct taping the mouth, as there was no longer a snout to hold close but instead just a normal face to keep from biting him.
A sense of embarrassment flooded into Arthur upon realizing that there would need to be instead, God forbid, a muzzle to keep the thing at bay. Belling the cat, so to speak. It was also not going to be easy either if accounting for the human arms that could very much also prevent Arthur from getting close to it, if at all.
So, after a relatively silent trip to the adult sex store (Arthur was not too keen on the cashier’s small talk and promptly left before anything could be said about his ‘crocodile hunter outfit’), Arthur eventually found himself on his backyard porch.
He was dressed in his khaki top and shorts; high socks peeking above his work boots. The rope was slung over Arthur’s shoulder loosely, held in place with one hand while the other grasped his snare pole. Arthur glared at the water itself, almost as if daring the other creature to come out of it.
Time to see what you’re really about.
The herpetologist took a long minute to observe his surroundings. The grassy patch of land was exactly how Arthur left it, which included the bucket that had the plethora of dead goldfish still in the middle of it. It reeked heavily of rotting flesh now, and after a moment of holding his breath, he went to retrieve it so he could toss it into the trash bin. He rinsed the bucket soon after, ridding the smell once and for all before returning to the task at hand.
With the remainder of the backyard still empty, Arthur placed the raw chicken that he had retrieved from the store into the newly cleaned bucket, leaving it tilted in the direction of the (still) orange waters. The crate was carefully propped just above it, held only in place by a stick. The rope was then, intuitively, tied to the stick and ready to be pulled anytime from Arthur’s hiding spot from behind a tree a few feet away.
There was no sound coming from the water by the time he had settled behind the Cyprus tree, but Arthur was not fooled. As a precautionary measure, the snare pole ended up in Arthur’s other hand, just in case the creature was smart enough to wrestle his way out of the trap before he could get there in time to restrain it. If he had to. Arthur tried not to imagine the worst case scenario.
But, as this was all said and done, Arthur eventually found himself eventually staring at the ground, energy zapped in a single moment when the preparation was already complete. The morning burst of excitement was gone when the reality of it finally set in. No longer was he a soldier in the middle of trying to assault the enemy but instead, a single man trying to catch a monster in the middle of a 90 degree afternoon.
God. What am I even doing?
The churring of water was enough of a reply, and Arthur’s stomach churned with it. He wasn’t tempted to look, at least not at first. Human or not, the thing behind the tree was likely intelligent enough to look at his surroundings before anything else, and Arthur spent no time trying to overthink it. He felt his hands clam up with sweat, shaking again just as he did the first time he had encountered the beast. The master plan that he initially concocted was now showing its holes and Arthur swore there wasn’t that many until now. The gator-human would likely rip off the crate before he knew it, and would find a new way to haunt Arthur; more so than it was already.
Before he could even think, the immediate wiggling of the rope was enough of an instinct for Arthur to yank it. The sound of the crate clunking, followed by a hiss, made Arthur’s heart race as he immediately went to drop the snare pole to find priority in grabbing the handcuffs and muzzle.
Arthur rounded the tree, finding the tip of its tail sticking out from under the crate. Jackpot.
Without hesitation, Arthur put his weight on the top of the box, torso leaning against the wood of the crate on top of the creature. The thrashing from underneath did not relent, however, and Arthur fought to keep his feet on the ground, the soles of his feet digging into the muddy floor as he tried to find some way of finding purchase so he could hold it still. Bending his knees to shift the weight, Arthur found that it was the only solution that he could manage at the moment, and one quickly turned into a nightmare as he discovered his body growing increasingly tired from the effort.
“Alright, alright!” Arthur practically yelled at the animal, teeth gritted. “Quit your squirming. Be glad I didn’t shoot you or anything.”
The animal made no indication of understanding. The crate took a moment to pause as well, as if it, too, were also tired of the fight. Though suddenly, the crate lurched, and Arthur lost his grip as he stumbled and fell forward. The crate fell away with it, launching off as the beast whipped its head to shake the offending object off.
It was only when Arthur had pushed himself off the ground, that he realized he was met with an even more horrifying realization. The being in front of him was not the chimera he had expected to have seen, but instead, an actual crocodile. And one that, as it spun around to meet Arthur’s fallen form, was about to launch its open maw at Arthur’s head.
Arthur screamed , not finding enough time to scramble away as it began to heave its massive form toward him at a blinding speed.
Arthur, you absolute fool. You’re dead. You’ve done it now!
Arthur raised his arms protectively but uselessly, and he nearly shut his eyes in silent acceptance. But before he could, a blur of color entered his vision at some point and the predator in front of him was launched sideways, body smacking against the side of his house like a rag doll.
“What--?”
Green eyes darted to the new opponent, and his heart began to sink.
There it was; the gator human in all its heroic glory. Arthur could clearly see him now, as the thing was only now coated in dried mud and dust instead of its swamp-monster appearance from weeks ago.
The thing was blond and had eyes that held a color somewhere in between a blue and a strange yellow. It had webbed feet on the “gator side”, but Arthur soon discovered that the thing’s front palms also contained a few scales as well, likely padding it to allow it movement in the murky environment. It had sharp claws, which nearly matched its teeth and Arthur couldn’t find himself able to tear his eyes away when his gaze found interest in the canines.
The whole bloody mouth of the thing was like a shark’s, but somehow even more so frightening when considering that the canines of the “human side” were longer than the rest of its rows of teeth.
The gator-man snarled something that somehow mimicked a voice and an actual guttural growl. It was soon identified to not be toward Arthur himself, but to the other alligator that had been smacked against the wall. The poor thing looked as if the attack had knocked its final breath and it lethargically began to march its way back toward the water like a punished child. Arthur didn’t dare move, just in case the crocodile would change its mind and turn around. But as it began to descend into the swampy waters, Arthur’s gaze returned back to the--
The gator-man was staring right at him, expression blank as it lifted its front extremity to grasp at Arthur’s cheek.
Arthur exhaled the breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding and backed away instinctively.
“You’re,” Arthur breathed, unable to blink. “It’s... you.”
The creature simply blinked back at him in curiosity. Three eyelids, it seemed. And it gave the sharpest toothed grin he had ever seen in his life.
“S’ss you!”
Arthur’s jaw dropped.
It. It could speak.
Arthur really fought the urge to not faint right now. He found himself relaxing his posture only slightly, and the animal crawled right into his lap as if it were an opening, and that itself nearly caused Arthur an episode of hyperventilation.
The dirty hand-paws reached up to hold Arthur’s face in his, and Arthur rapidly realized that he himself had not only developed jelly legs, but that he was at the mercy of whatever this thing decided to do.
“Okaay?” It asked, tone concerned. Arthur found his words for only a moment.
“I-I’m... okay. Yes. I’m alright.”
But was he really? Arthur couldn’t tell. His eyes lids were already closing and the last thing he heard was a soft gasp of worry.
You Won’t Believe What’s In Your Local Swamp! (Part 2)
(Part 1) (AO3)
The first few months weren’t as bad as it first seemed.
Most days were usually filled with a lot of idle chatter amongst coworkers and Arthur, being perhaps the only “foreign” one of the group, was thankfully saved from most conversations that asked him about his stance on American politics. Instead, he could focus on his primary job, which often included popping in a pair of AirPods once and a while to keep himself occupied independently.
However, despite the novelty of working with a lot of different biologists who held the same enthusiasm as he did about the opportunity in Florida, Arthur found it all incredibly boring.
There had been a couple disappointing days of being trapped within the lab, testing the pH of various different water swamp. Some days he would collect the samples himself, which was always his favorite part of the day when it happened, and the most disheartening when someone else was assigned to leave for the day.
It would be his job at finding out those values while later sending them out to different local Parks and Recreation centers all around the county. By the time Arthur had finally received his ‘promotion’ assignment to visit nature zones for more zoology type sampling, he was already starting to hate the colors of the rainbow all together.
It wasn’t all too rough, Arthur thought. Though the head of his department didn’t quite specify much of what he was going to do yet, he had already hinted that it was finally going to include his area of expertise: herpetology. Now that made Arthur’s heart flutter with fondness.
Now, he had gladly volunteered in the ZSL London Zoo some many years ago when he was a lowly undergrad. He had a special fondness for the reptile house ever since his first trip as a class in primary and was absolutely sure that same childhood wonder was going to return to him ten fold even as old as he was now. At least this time, Arthur postulated, he would not have to deal with children attempting to speak ‘parseltongue’ to the poor snakes and tapping the glass incessantly.
The Londoner sighed. Once more, he could be found daydreaming on the roof-covered backyard patio of his new-but-previously-owned shack of a house. The murky waters of a very small swamp nearby was just a few meters away from the wooden steps. The weekend was going by a little slowly, but it was enough for Arthur to easily tame the excitement that had been building within his chest at the new assignment given to him on the Friday. He stared at the shoreline just beyond the reeds, attempting to reorient himself to who and where he was: a scientist of reptiles that will soon be traveling further into the depths of the dusty waters of—
Arthur blinked, furrowing his brows. Huh.
Putting his mug of tea down onto the nearby chair, he went to slip on his sandals as he went ahead to grab his previously discarded sun hat on his head.
The swamp didn’t look right. It looked … well. Orange.
The observation was so left field, he had to blink again and squint as he approached the water bank, furrowing his brows in confusion.
No, that was definitely orange.
Arthur exhaled, daring himself to go a little further toward the edge enough to the point he could feel the squishing feeling of the mud start to stick to the bottom of his soles. In all his years of living here, this was definitely the first time he had encountered something like this. Orange?
Arthur widened his eyes in realization. It was a school of goldfish.
The water was completely packed with the color but the writhing bodies of the fish were no doubt something he had seen before in the pet stores. They were vibrant, flashy and quite literally glittering just above the surface of the water.
Arthur frowned. That wasn’t something that was seen every day. With a squelch, he climbed back up to his patio, taking off his dirty shoes as he continued on barefoot into his home to find his cellphone.
“That’s pretty disgusting,” the voice on the other line replied, voice sounding quite as disgusted as he had just explained it was.
“Believe me, seeing that much orange was enough to tempt me to dump a few kilograms of limestone into the water,” Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose, pacing as he held the phone up to his ear as he stared at the water. “Some parents must have told their teenager that it was a good idea to release their goldfish into the ‘wild’ or something. Now the whole bloody lake is infested with these vile things, plus not to mention that this could severely ruin a lot of diets of the local alligator and turtle populations within the —“
“Alright, alright I get it,” Gilbert, the local game warden of the area, snapped. “No need to give me a biology lesson about the place. I’ve lived here longer than you have, you know.”
“I’m aware,” Arthur huffed, practically glaring a hole into the window in the direction of the goldfish. If Arthur’s gaze was the sun, he could completely imagine the entire pool burning to a crisp along with the annoying fish with it, if the glass concave enough to let that happen.
Gilbert Beilschmidt was, unfortunately, Arthur’s second to least favorite person to talk to in the whole world (the first being the frog). The feeling was mutual of course, and it was likely that Gilbert was even less receptive of Arthur’s argument to promptly remove the fish right now this instant just because of how pissed off Arthur was.
As the game warden, it was the German’s responsibility to supervise the amount of game hunting there was in an area. He was often responsible for ensuring that many recreational hunters were aware of the rules that came with their guns, and at least 90 percent of the time, Arthur found himself respecting Gilbert’s line of work. The other 10 percent that was lacking was just due to the Englishman’s utter irritation with the whole idea of even talking to him in general. Not only was he a loud and usually very intrusive client when it came to Arthur’s personal business, but Gilbert also happened to be one of the most requested reference when it came to animal count statistics. Meaning that he often had to ask the man for permission for a lot of things.
However, despite all that, Arthur was also acutely aware of Gilbert’s very common habit of disagreeing with Arthur’s opinions given the chance to hear them.
“So,” Arthur interrupted Gilbert’s silence, which was met with an equally exasperated sigh.
“So that means you can catch as many as you want,” Gilbert clarified, which actually ended up making Arthur’s eyebrows raise in brief surprise. “You said it was an invasive species, so I’m guessing it’s alright if you’re attempting to just clear out just one small pond of those goldfish. Just … make sure you euthanize them, okay? Like…dump them in ice or something.”
That was sound to Arthur’s ears.
“Gladly.”
And in a flash, it had taken less than two hours for Arthur to be ready; one of those hours being spent on going to the store to buy proper waders for the occasion, which somehow took a trip between a Cabelas and another trip to a Walmart to buy several bags of ice. But by the end of it, Arthur was ready, sun hat tied securely under the bottom of his chin, a handle fishing net in a gloved hand and a few water coolers full of ice ready to throw invasive fish in.
With a particularly unattractive stumble, the biologist shoved his way through the reeds like Moses parting the Orange-Red Sea, net shoved into the water. He didn’t even submerge the net fully into the water before he had to lift it up to reveal that three of the little bastards jumped in accidentally.
Arthur grinned. Perhaps the water was just too concentrated for them to even get away. Even better!
It didn’t take too long for Arthur to wade a little further in, scooping up the aquatic fish like candy in a bucket. He had dumped the goldfish into the cooler using the net, still standing in his place with the water half way up his knees. This could probably be a viable way to spend a weekend, he thought; there was enough fish in here to maybe become a cleaning hobby of his. Arthur only now wondered what he was going to do with all of these goldfish when he was done with it.
Arthur almost attempted one more step inward toward the middle of the swamp before he heard the sound of a loud splash and a particularly louder growl echoing after the noise. Arthur widened his eyes, heart racing, but sensible enough to keep enough composure to take a few tentative steps back toward the shoreline.
Alligators. Arthur gripped his net tightly out of sheer excitement. A real live one in its natural habitat.
“Never took goldfish to be a common diet,” Arthur said quietly, dumping another net worth of recently caught fish into the cooler again. But the more he thought about it, the more his own curiosity spiked with a rather stupid, selfish but daring idea.
When Arthur returned to the shore, he picked up a pair of prongs next to the ice bags and produced one of the dead fish from inside the cooler. It looked rather large, maybe a pregnant female. A good bait maybe.
An eye was kept on moving waters of where the last splash had taken place, but Arthur tried his best to lure the alligator out while also continuing to round up the fishes with his other hand. Which quite frankly, proved to be a lot harder than he thought. The weight of the fishes was not something he accounted for and his biceps began to burn with ache holding the weight of them as he eventually emptied the net again.
Another splash was heard just behind him when he tilted the net and Arthur barely turned his head fast enough to spot the tail of the creature dive back down into the depths. He swallowed.
Okay, maybe this was a tad bit too close.
Arthur took another few steps back further toward the shore, but still held the fish tightly, waving it tantalizingly in the water. No response.
By the time Arthur had dipped the tip of the net back into the water, there was a sharp tug on the net that nearly sent Arthur toppling forward into the swamp itself.
Alarmed, Arthur threw his prongs towards the shore, using both hands to wrestle the net back into his control. This was bad. A really really bad idea to be fighting a reptile of exceptional size when he himself wasn’t trained to fight such a beast, nor did he have the accent to even pretend he was Steve Irwin.
“Let go you big oaf!”
Arthur began to slowly but surely inch himself back in the direction of the house and to land, still tugging as hard as he could along the way. The muddy and slippery ground was not stable enough for him to have foundation for his footing. Drier land meant a less slippery ground and perhaps a higher likelihood of his net being returned to him, minus a very angry gator. However, as Arthur tugged and tugged, another odd phenomenon other than the orange swamp decided to introduce itself to him on that very same day.
Because what was produced from the water was the weirdest Goddamn thing he had ever seen. A man, half naked from the waste down, was holding down the other end of his net with teeth sharper than any knife. And when Arthur yanked the device in his hands a few inches back further …
The man had an alligator’s spine and tail, slipping uncomfortably in the muck as it tried to wrestle back into the depths. Arthur dropped the net out of utter shock, and the man (gator man?) abandoned the fight like a dog winning a victory over his tug-of-war contest.
Instead, it had now taken its attention to the rather enticing stack of dead and ready to eat goldfish in the cooler.
“H-HEY!”
The sound of Arthur’s loud voice was enough for the thing to turn its head at Arthur, startled and shy. The creature was covered from head to …tail with mud, and the only thing prominent about it was its sharp, blue eyes. Arthur only managed a step forward before the thing scrambled back into the water with quickened pace. It was only then that Arthur let himself sit down on the ground, staring at water with an emotion he couldn’t describe.
The rest of the early evening was spent on Arthur throwing a bunch of fish into a bonfire, well away from the swamp bank, and the sound of a flatlining heart rate machine reverberating figuratively in his brain.
Summary: Arthur is a recent university graduate looking for a better course of study with his degree. Time to go alligator hunting.
Rating: T
Characters: America/England (USUK)
A/N: The title for this story is different from AO3. This is because I want to make sure Tumblr won't witch hunt me for a title like that. Courtesy of the title goes to mikaku, I love you.
Florida, immediately Arthur concluded, was the worst US state that he could have chosen to live in.
Though, it hadn’t seemed like a bad choice at first. The decision was made after a long conversation with his parents (as most life journeys often began) and after his fourth attempt in securing himself a job. It was a discussion that started with a flowery exposition, about how he was a newly graduated Bachelor in Biology trying to spread his wings in London when the city itself was literally a piss poor excuse of an ecosystem. The wildlife that consisted the roaming street rats, cats and the once-and-a-while aggressive tube hopper was not the ideal image of what he imagined when he received his diploma.
No, Arthur wanted a place of true wildlife. Any place where he could finally implement the taxonomy vocabulary he had spent years to know by heart. He demanded to have a character development arc that found himself invested in the “at first” mundane environments of the other continents.
The real plight was to finally leave the cesspool of human civilization that was the capital of England. It was a place of Arthur’s childhood nostalgia and should only be for childhood nostalgia.
Geographically, Arthur couldn’t stand another minute of it.
The textbooks and online academic articles online always talked about the world beyond the textbooks. Arthur always imagined that that those authors wrote with hands unwashed of dried dirt after being in the field. If Arthur had that chance, he would be surrounded by different species and climates that would be knocking at his door at every minute. It was a thrilling concept.
Of course, London was his home. But the last thing that he wanted to do was to be a Biology major stuck inhaling fossil fuels, pushed firmly against the metal walls of the Piccadilly line train.
“Not here in London,” is what Arthur ended up saying to his mum. And that really was the gist of it.
Arthur knew that he wanted something rural; something completely unknown to him. He wanted to be stumped by the unknown and beyond understanding. The craving was insatiable. And after finally securing a deal with his parents about finally pitching money into his travel and relocation expenses, Arthur scoured the International Job postings on the community board of his Alma Mater.
University had only been a stepping stone and all the certification did was give him a license to act without a filter on what he could and couldn’t explore.
After about several weeks of looking following “The Talk”, Arthur finally settled to focus on the United States. The country was was large and vast, containing an unfair amount of animals with enough geographical distance between each other to be diverse. To have enough geographical distance away from the traditional European hares, badgers and deer.
Which now, returning to the main crux of the problem, Arthur made an absolute mistake on his State roulette, and it wasn’t exactly the job at all; they paid well for an entry level post graduate. Plus, he was offered a rather cheap house with a reasonably distant swamp in the backyard and a one hour commute to the Everglade’s National Park, which had always been a fascinating place for him and a location he had put on his bucket list long ago.
But Arthur had forgotten to calculate that he himself hadn’t ever seen much of the sun since he had been born, as Londoners do, and hadn’t accounted for the fact that this small detail was the absolute reason why he now hated Florida. And the impossible heat waves were only one of many factors that cause Arthur to already develop a list of life decisions that he would eventually tell his kids when he had the chance to.
Ive been thinking a lot abt the coming holiday season and every time I do, it gives me a lot of midcentury vibes, so this is the culmination of that. I haven't drawn in a midcentury art style since winter last year so it was a lot of fun to explore again but uh. Yeah.
In honor of finally opening @ask-bonesandbrews-usuk, i decided to redraw one of the first pieces of art I had made for this au all the way back in 2018. What a difference 3 years makes!
Hellow everyone this was my sumbission for the @usukustwiceperyear 2020.1 collection!! The theme this time around was Monsters, so I decided to draw them as zombOYFRIENDS!! GET IT???? HAHAHAH
Anyways i hope yall had a good, safe, and above all SPOOKY halloween!
Arthur: Get back here and I'll give you something to ruh-roh about!
((Welcome everyone to Ask-BonesAndBrews-UsUk! This au has such a special place in our hearts and the blog itself has been a project three years in the making, so we're really glad to finally unveil this to the world! :D
Since the blog is split between us, asks for Arthur will be answered by Maple and asks for Alfred will be answered by nickie. Don't hesitate to send us anything, we truly appreciate all the questions that we have gotten already!
theartofmadeline
ellievsbear
tangentwithtanner
dededos
titsay
origamiaround
gummygunk
