I ddim ond dweud y gair "Ffarwél". [5/?]
anonymous
April 6 2010, 14:55:35 UTC
Wales is watching England like a hawk as he gets larger. His brother is about five months gone now. England can’t help but feel terrible as Wales worries over him. He wonders why his brother isn’t caring more about himself in his condition. England recently came to the conclusion that yes, he was pregnant as well. Damn Scotland. Wales swore under his breath when they found out, holding his brother close and softly stroking his hair, speaking words of assurance.
“So we’re both going to die now.” England is clutching Wales’ shirt for dear life. He doesn’t want to think about this. First his brother will die and then he himself? This isn’t fair at all! Why did Scotland get to be the lucky one?!
“Shhh, brawd. It’s alright. We’ll be with mam again at least.”
“You mean you’ll be with mother. I don’t remember her. After all, I’m the one who killed her. And this,” England pokes his stomach gently, eyes filled with a hate he never even felt in war. “This child is going to do the same to me.”
“It’s a terrible shame we can never live to see our children grow.” Wales sighs, thinking their situation over. “I hope you’ll be a good father when I’m gone.”
“I will.” England promises. Of course he knows he doesn’t have much time for himself after Wales dies. He’ll be following him soon after. He wonders if Scotland will care for the children properly. He doubts it. Scotland was always a shit parent when he took it upon himself to raise England. Wales was always much better at taking care of him.
“Da.” Wales smiles. England loves that smile more than anything. His smile can always light up a room. England’s jealous that he can still smile despite all of this. Maybe he’ll get that sort of sage-like wisdom soon. The ability to grit your teeth and suck it up to bear it. He hopes so. Maybe then he won’t be so much of a stressor on Wales.
England’s eyes fluttered open in the sunlight getting in from the curtains. He yawned and rolled over, looking for Wales’ lithe form. Instead he was greeted with a muscular build. He looked up and realized it was all a dream again. He was with America now. He had to stop worrying about the past before it eats him alive. America was who he loved, even if lately those bright blue eyes were reminding him more and more of his old lover’s as well.
England shifted to avoid the dull pain in his back after last night. He had been dying for sex just as much as America, but he was stubborn. But after last night when everything felt better than normal because of his soaring sex drive, he figured it was time to stop playing hard to get. Might as well enjoy his time he had left while he still could. After all, he had every right to live like he was dying.
I am so glad I checked back on this! I'm liking England's new resolve! Although his whole flashback with Wales is wonderful and I love all the conflicting feelings that go through him!
Re: I ddim ond dweud y gair "Ffarwél". [5/?]
anonymous
April 12 2010, 21:08:43 UTC
Outstanding work Anon. Simply brilliant. I'm stalking this with a burning passion! Sometimes, after 5 days straight of crack and PWP, a good dramatic and sad fic like this is all you need. And a cup of tea. So:
F5!
reCAPTCHA: not favorable yes CAPTCHA, things don't look good for England.
“So we’re both going to die now.” England is clutching Wales’ shirt for dear life. He doesn’t want to think about this. First his brother will die and then he himself? This isn’t fair at all! Why did Scotland get to be the lucky one?!
“Shhh, brawd. It’s alright. We’ll be with mam again at least.”
“You mean you’ll be with mother. I don’t remember her. After all, I’m the one who killed her. And this,” England pokes his stomach gently, eyes filled with a hate he never even felt in war. “This child is going to do the same to me.”
“It’s a terrible shame we can never live to see our children grow.” Wales sighs, thinking their situation over. “I hope you’ll be a good father when I’m gone.”
“I will.” England promises. Of course he knows he doesn’t have much time for himself after Wales dies. He’ll be following him soon after. He wonders if Scotland will care for the children properly. He doubts it. Scotland was always a shit parent when he took it upon himself to raise England. Wales was always much better at taking care of him.
“Da.” Wales smiles. England loves that smile more than anything. His smile can always light up a room. England’s jealous that he can still smile despite all of this. Maybe he’ll get that sort of sage-like wisdom soon. The ability to grit your teeth and suck it up to bear it. He hopes so. Maybe then he won’t be so much of a stressor on Wales.
England’s eyes fluttered open in the sunlight getting in from the curtains. He yawned and rolled over, looking for Wales’ lithe form. Instead he was greeted with a muscular build. He looked up and realized it was all a dream again. He was with America now. He had to stop worrying about the past before it eats him alive. America was who he loved, even if lately those bright blue eyes were reminding him more and more of his old lover’s as well.
England shifted to avoid the dull pain in his back after last night. He had been dying for sex just as much as America, but he was stubborn. But after last night when everything felt better than normal because of his soaring sex drive, he figured it was time to stop playing hard to get. Might as well enjoy his time he had left while he still could. After all, he had every right to live like he was dying.
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More Welsh translations:
Mam = Mother
Da = Good
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Please post more soon!
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F5!
reCAPTCHA: not favorable
yes CAPTCHA, things don't look good for England.
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