Past-Part Fills Post 1 -- CLOSED

Feb 26, 2011 13:32



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but I really really really don't like you [1/?] anonymous July 27 2009, 22:43:00 UTC
“I hate you,” are the first words out of Australia’s mouth. He just doesn’t understand; so young, so naive, he doesn’t get that England needs him right now. He’s the only country, colony now, that England still has some semblance of control over, and England needs him so he’s going to use him. Australia’s constitution is burned, the document turning to dust from the inside, while England smiles and Australia glares. He just doesn’t see, not like England sees, how good this is; I can take care of you and don’t worry, you won’t have to make any more decisions and, God, Australia really hates him. He storms out of the room, England’s stupid smug smile etched into his vision like a brand, looking for someone, anyone, to help.

He runs into Canada first, but Canada is part of the Commonwealth still and while he loves Australia, he really doesn’t want to be England’s colony again, so he just looks down at the ground and says “I’m sorry, I’m sorry” like sorries will help. Australia then remembers that that passive dipstick probably doesn’t even care about him all that much, and he shoves him aside to go find someone that is actually important.

America is next, and America should be the hero because he has nothing to lose, he’s not part of the Commonwealth and why would England want him back, but he just whistles and gives Australia a sad sort of look and says “Well, uh, if he has complete control, then...” but Australia doesn’t want to hear the end, doesn’t need to, and so he moves on.

South Africa and India both prove to be no help either, shrugging and patting him on the back, and by the end of the day Australia thinks that he is quite royally screwed.

The second day, he wakes to find he is in England’s house again. The walls are blank, the books are blank, and for a second he forgets what his national anthem is. Was. When he leaves the house, he notices right away that England is nothing like Australia. He had forgotten that. England is dark and rainy and living for the past, while Australia is sun and sky and pushing ahead to the future. He goes for a walk, water seeping into his skin and making him heavy, until he comes to a payphone and decides to call New Zealand, see how it is down under, just to see if he can feel the heat of the ocean through the phone. New Zealand laughs like life is a joke and says “Who is this?”

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Re: but I really really really don't like you [1/?] anonymous July 27 2009, 23:07:37 UTC
Oh anon, I don't know why this not!OP is determined to depress herself further, but I saw that this fill had been started and just had to read. It's a short beginning, but it holds much potential. I'm interested in where you're going to take it.

Poor Australia :(

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Re: but I really really really don't like you [1/?] anonymous July 27 2009, 23:14:10 UTC
Asdfjkl;oh man, I was thinking of filling this but so glad I didn't; I don't think I could pull off what's going to happen here. I'm very glad though, that this was filled~

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OP Here~ anonymous July 28 2009, 01:50:27 UTC
Can I just say I love you author!anon!!?? I really didn't think anyone would fill this but THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! I come back from a day of exams to this!! ILU!!!

Awesome opening, love that you included England's other colonies. Can't wait for more!

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Re: but I really really really don't like you [1/?] anonymous July 28 2009, 06:40:22 UTC
w..wow.. only the first part and this has sucked me right in

and for a second he forgets what his national anthem is. Was.

I'm Australian and that I must admit was painful to read. I ended up humming our anthem when I finished reading it x_x

*sobs* and New Zealand!! Does that mean the ANZAC treaty is no longer in affect??? D:

Can't wait to read more anon!!! *bookmarks*

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Re: but I really really really don't like you [1/?] anonymous July 28 2009, 09:58:21 UTC
Holy-moley, Anon... This is so - so painfully perfect.

God... I love how Australia doesn't just stop with Canada or America, but instead goes to other nations that could possibly help, and then looks towards the Kiwi and - that last sentence - it was a real kicker. Smacked me right in the gut.

I sincerely hope there's more on the way.

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but I really really really don't like you [2/?] anonymous July 29 2009, 01:02:26 UTC
To the anons that replied: ah, thank you guys! ♥ you have no idea how much I love you just for reading this, it really means a lot to me. I'm sorry if I totally screw this up.

To anon wanting to fill this too: D: don't not fill this because of meeee. I'd love to read yours too bb. ♥

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For the next week, Australia doesn’t see England once. He goes out into the streets and sees people suffering from the recession, reduced to begging, and Australia doesn’t know how he’s supposed to help. He’s already starting to lose his tan, and his hair is constantly wet with rain. Not only can he not remember his national anthem, but he forgets the names of his people too. He doesn’t even think to call New Zealand now.

When he sees England his ninth day, the anger flares up again, though he can’t remember why exactly, and he punches the blond. England is quick to react though, and despite his ‘old age’ and small stature, England is still powerful, pushing Australia against the wall in seconds. “Don’t ever do that again,” England hisses, and a tightening hand around his throat enforces it. Australia doesn’t look down, doesn’t apologize, just spits in his face and kicks out his legs, hitting a shin and making England tighten his hold. Lack of air gets to him eventually; his kicks become weaker and his attempts to claw England’s arms apart slowly stop and his vision soon becomes only of white stripes and red stripes and blue bruised stripes, and then England digs his thumb in at just the right angle and the world goes black.

When he wakes, he finds that he’s sitting up straight; his hands are tied behind his back - the knot is digging in painfully, and his shoulders are at such an awkward angle that when he tries to move them, make himself more comfortable, it just sends more pain shooting up his arms - and his legs are tied to the chair. For a minute he feels a wave of panic, claustrophobia, can’t move can’t move, and then he hears the calming, terrifying voice of England behind him.

“My dear Australia,” and Australia can’t see him but he can certainly hear the fangs slithering into place, “stop fighting it. Stop fighting me.” A hand comes to his shoulder, another runs through his dry, unwashed hair, and he feels England’s breath hot beside his ear. “I know what’s best for you.” The rain outside pounds the window and England presses kisses to his colony’s temple, gentle kisses that make Australia want to throw up as the hand threading through his hair grips him firmly and tilts his head back, lips travelling across cheek to clenched jaw.

“I hate you,” Australia says again, and he feels England’s hands tense with anger for a second, only to be replaced by loving strokes to one side of his face and wet kisses to the other. It’s comforting and degrading how England talks to him the way he used to, when Australia was young and impressionable. Don’t worry, he says, all charm, I know what’s best for you. I’ll take care of you. He pats him on the head and kisses him on the forehead and brings him to meet his new brothers (and sisters). He loved England then; all his colonies too - he despises them now, all his siblings, for abandoning him, giving up on him, leaving him to fend for himself. “I hate you.”

England sighs, nuzzling into the crook of his neck, “It may be hard for you to understand now, but I’m taking care of you.” Kiss. “You’re just... so young.” Another kiss, and then he isn’t touching him at all. There’s the sound of duct tape, and then he’s standing in front of Australia, looking disgustingly sympathetic to the prone ex-country. “I just wish you would stop lying to me.” Now Australia, if there’s one thing I taught you, it’s that lying is unacceptable. How will I ever be able to trust you if you continue to lie? was followed by Sorry England, it won’t happen again. I promise. “You know how disrespectful it is.” All I ask for is respect. Is that so much to ask for? I’m raising you to be a strong nation, respecting me should not be that difficult. “And you know how much I hate being disrespected.”

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Re: but I really really really don't like you [2/?] anonymous July 29 2009, 03:20:37 UTC
OP here again!

Anon. you truly are amazing. I love the tone you've established and it's absolutely heartbreaking to see Australia just forgetting everything about himself that isn't strictly connected to England.

And gah, there is no way you are screwing this up at all! Thank you for filling this anon!

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Re: but I really really really don't like you [2/?] anonymous July 29 2009, 05:44:38 UTC
DEAR LORD.

AMAZING.

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but I really really really don't like you [3/?] anonymous July 30 2009, 04:01:11 UTC
Australia thinks about apologizing, but the words I’m sorry come out as “Fuck you.” England frowns, his thick eyebrows meeting in the middle of his head, and looks down at the tape in his hand. “You’re fucking crazy.” England’s lips twitch, eyebrows looking angrier, and before Australia can say any more England has hauled off and back-handed him; it stings, but for Australia it’s worth it, to see that face on England when his faithful colony is no longer faithful. He makes himself a promise, then that he’ll never give in, never surrender. He smirks, and England is beyond pissed now, dropping the tape as his formerly under control temper is released.

“Listen, you little shit, I made you and I can break you. Got it?” Clutching Australia by the collar, he has no choice but to glare right back at England; never give in, never give in, don’t give in, you’re strong you can do this. He remains quiet and England lets go, picking up the duct tape and ripping off a fairly large piece. “This,” he says as he presses it against Australia’s mouth, securing it in place and getting that sympathetic-but-not-really look back, “should help control your insolent tongue. Let me know when you wish to speak to me properly again.” And then he’s gone, leaving Australia alone and starving; he goes to sleep that night to never give in, gotta stay strong, never give in, never give in.

Five days goes by, and England hasn’t visited once; no one has visited at all. Australia knows he’s not going to die, but damn does he feel like shit - his body is aching from being in the same pained position, and he’s starting to forget what warmth ever felt like. All he hears is the pat pat pat of rain on his window; all he feels is the cold wetness clinging to his body like a disease; all he smells is damp air, and it’s oh so stuffy. He gets bored after the first day and a half, and although he forgets who was, he remembers himself as a child, wanting and needing England like air, tousled hair and warm smiles. He retreats to his imagination, but the visions of England visiting him, of his open, sunny island are replaced by a dark, rainy one; he can hear his people ranting about the unfairness of this whole thing, and though he can’t see what is unfair he is angry with them. He screams through the duct tape until his throat is raw, and even then England doesn’t come.

By his fourth day alone, Australia feels his people change. They’re not as jovial as they used to be, though for them they have always been this way - no one is surfing on the beach because no one has ever surfed on the beach. They are no longer Australians; no, they were always British subjects, always bound to the British law, and though they are miles apart they share the same land. Australia - New Britain - was never a sunny escape; it has always been suspended in the same rainy condition as England, but Australia doesn’t want to believe that. Something nags at him, still, says don’t give in, don’t do it even while he’s screaming about equality and hate. He’s not giving in; he’s just forgetting.

The other ex-colonies haven’t forgotten though. New Zealand called up England a few days ago, said just wonderin’ how you were treatin’ my old buddy, and England had said that he was treating him just fine, that Australia would be just fine, he just needed a bit of time, and New Zealand didn’t want the same to happen to him so he nods his head, and then, remembering England can’t see him, says, “Oh, okay. Cool.” And then he hangs up. Canada and America visit England on Australia’s fifth day alone; two is always better than one and Canada has never been strong enough to stand up to England like this by himself. America speaks the most - “You shouldn’t be doing this, this is why I left, you never really gave any of us real freedom!” - but Canada adds points too - “Please, other countries are wondering if you’re okay, what if they see this as a security claim for you and start a war; besides, I don’t think he really wanted to join you, you could have asked...” - and Australia, who has screamed himself silent, wonders who they are talking about.

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Re: but I really really really don't like you [3/?] anonymous July 30 2009, 17:30:12 UTC
Australia thinks about apologizing, but the words I’m sorry come out as “Fuck you.”

The patriot in me had me pumping my fist and hissing, "Fuck yeah! You tell him, Oz!" when I read that. You've really made me so happy with this fic~

I really like where this going. You've packed so much feeling into this and the tone is dead-set perfect. I like how even though Australia's forgetting, he just won't give up. I love how the other nations haven't forgotten him (especially New Zealand - I hold much love for our southern brother). I love how you haven't turned Oz's siblings into bad guys because of their decisions.

Oh God, I can't wait for more. I must see how Australia gets out of this (and maybe how he recovers?).

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Re: but I really really really don't like you [3/?] anonymous July 30 2009, 17:58:11 UTC
Oh the Common Wealth (and America) still kinda fear their mother country. But dont give up Australia! Stay strong and beat England!

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Re: but I really really really don't like you [3/?] anonymous July 31 2009, 01:00:41 UTC
I'm loving every bit of this. I love the slow transition from Australia to New England how Australia refuses to give in but his forgetting.

I am curious though if Gallipoli is going to be brought up since that was the mile stone that pushed Australian's away from the British Empire (since then our military down right refuses to be under British command) in the first place.

Ahh its good to know New Zealand is checking up on him! Can't let our southern brother forget 'bout him! America and Canada <3 I some how get the picture if this really did happen in real life, Americans wouldn't just stand by and let it happen (since our country's have had a strong alliance since WWI)

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Re: but I really really really don't like you [3/?] anonymous July 31 2009, 01:01:35 UTC
Wouldn't New England be America, though

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Re: but I really really really don't like you [3/?] anonymous November 29 2011, 06:57:34 UTC
Yea mate, we were New South Wales/Terra Nullius/New Holland, not new England.

And I personalty wouldn't stand for being made a colony again, and i'm sure most of Australia would be like minded, no need to depend on foreigners when we have true blue Aussies.

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Re: but I really really really don't like you [3/?] anonymous July 31 2009, 05:54:17 UTC
...Looks like I'm late to the party, but shit, these Australia fics are such a treat. Wonderful writing, anon!

F5-ing, starting now.

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