Columbia (1/?)
anonymous
February 17 2010, 07:59:12 UTC
AN: So, Anon paid attention to some of the prompts - the story seemed to take on a life of its own.
Columbia
Matthew moaned, absently rubbing his temples as he dragged himself down the corridor.
He’d always rather thought that Buchheim had put it best. Meetings between Nations bore a suspicious resemblance to long periods of boredom interspersed with short periods of excitement... The northern nation snorted as he fumbled for his key card. Theses get-togethers could never really be defined as ‘peaceful’, but this one had been surprisingly uneventful. So far. If you discounted Arthur’s attempts to burn down the kitchen, Prussia’s imitation of a singing telegram halfway through Austria’s lecture on chromatic scales, Francis hitting on everything that moved…
Still, all things considered, the day had been - quiet.
Except for Alfred. The blonde sighed in a mixture of resignation and tired affection. His brother hadn’t quite recovered from his cold, but you’d never be able to tell from looking at him. Alfred - Alfred had shone, unrelenting enthusiasm and sheer stubborn optimism practically leaking from his pores as he disseminated his latest plan to stave off climate change by means of a giant robot that would assemble the five planetary crystals from the stratosphere…
Matthew wondered if he was the only one who had been able to see the fatigue in Alfred’s eyes, or the slight edge of hesitation to his movements as he laid out his latest harebrained scheme.
Canada smiled faintly. His brother was growing up.
Bad (and contagious) as it had been, the American Recession had been the best thing to happen to Alfred in decades. It had forced his brother to think rather then simply react, pressuring him to discard his preconceptions in favor of what worked. Matthew smiled again. He hadn’t seen his brother like this for a long time, not for at least fifty years. Maybe even before than, back when the world had been - not simple, things had never been simple, but - clearer. The US had made his share of mistakes, but he’d learned from them - evolve, adopt, adapt, that was Alfred’s way.
America’s newfound maturity had come at a high cost, but it had been worth it to have his brother back again, brilliant and shining, as he was meant to be.
Canada sighed again, sliding his keycard through his door lock and waiting for the light to turn green. He hadn’t had much to contribute to the meeting - there were some advantages to invisibility - but he was exausted nonetheless. He’d been yawning by the time Germany slammed his gavel down for the last time, looking forward to a quiet dinner and a midnight hockey marathon; he’d even gone so far as to refuse Arthur’s invitation to a get-together ‘for old time’s sake’, though Alfred had been happy enough to oblige. Matthew smiled again, lips curling into an expression of exasperated fondness. Alfred had practically lit from the inside with startled pleasure at Arthur’s invitation. Superpower Al might be, but he could be surprisingly insecure at times. He’d been deathly afraid that everyone hated him after his latest Recession. Canada shook his head slightly as the door clicked open. It was nice to see his brother proved wrong.
“Kumajiro?” Canada ducked his head as he stepped inside warm darkness of his room. He’d left the polar bear on the bed this morning; Kumajiro hadn’t been all interested in attending the meeting. As a matter of fact, neither had Matthew, but he didn’t have the excuse of short-term amnesia... The door slid shut behind him. “Are you in here?” Canada frowned. Something -
Columbia (2/?)
anonymous
February 17 2010, 08:00:28 UTC
Matthew’s head whipped to the side. A familiar face stared up at him; Alfred was sitting on his couch, blue eyes peering at him over the rim of his glasses. Kumajiro was sitting on his brother’s lap; Alfred was practically hugging the bear, arms dark against white fur as his chest rose and fell in harsh, gasping breaths. Matthew couldn’t see much of his brother’s expression; blonde hair fell across his face, obscuring his features.
“Al?” Matthew took a cautious half-step forward. “Alfred, if this is because you watched another horror movie - “
Alfred let out a half-stifled sob; the bear went flying to the side as America lunged forward, wrapping his arms around his brother. “Mattie…” His voice was a choked gasp, shoulders rising and falling in an unmistakable rhythm.
Matthew felt his own eyes widen as Alfred pressed against him. Scardy-cat his brother might be but this - His stomach roiled. He hadn’t seen America like this since the Civil War.
Something was very, very wrong.
Alfred pulled back, staring at him through wide, almost panicked eyes; Matthew felt something inside of him clench into a small, tight ball at the sight of the tear tracks running down his brother’s cheeks. Canada reached up, gently brushing Alfred’s hair to the side. Alfred flinched at his touch; Matthew felt his own hands freeze in place as he stared at his brother’s face. A dark, mottled bruise spread across America’s face; his lower lip was bleeding, and his neck was littered with - were those bites? Matthew held his brother at arm’s length; Alfred made a small, choked sound, but held still as Canada’s gaze roamed up and down his frame.
Alfred’s clothes were little more then tattered scraps of cloth; his shirt had been ripped apart, the remnants clinging to his frame and exposing the - Matthew felt himself flush at the sight of the bandages wrapped around his bro - his sibling’s chest. His embarrassment was rapidly subsumed by concern; the wrappings were at last halfway unraveled, exposing the twin bumps denoting Alfred’s true sex.
Matthew was used to thinking of Alfred as his brother. His sibling played her role to perfection; no one would ever believe that America was not what he - she - portrayed herself as. Namely, male. He’d asked his sister once, why she felt the need to deceive the world community; Alfred had tilted her head to the side, expression oddly serious as she considered his question.
Because it wasn’t safe for women - at least, not when they were children. Because she would have been treated with kid gloves, forbidden to do anything interesting. Because there weren’t many female nations anyway, and it was so easy to make people believe what they wanted to believe… Because she liked having a secret. She’d flashed her trademark grin at Matthew, that bright, dazzling smile, and he’d felt himself flush with pleasure at the realization that he was the only one who knew, the only one Alfred trusted with the truth.
America had kept her secret for years. By now, the practice was more then simple routine. She hardly ever let her disguise drop, not even in the safety of her own home; for her to display it now… “Alfred?” He opened his arms in a gesture of invitation, frown deepening as Alfred all but lunged into his embrace.
“They tried to - they wanted to hurt me, Mattie, they - “ Alfred was trembling, convulsive shivers rippling up and down her frame.
The other Nation stared down at the self-proclaimed ‘hero.’ “What - America, what - “ His arms came up, folding almost automatically around his sibling.
A dreadful, ugly suspicion was running through Matthew’s mind. “Al - did they try to - did they to…” The words trailed off into silence, the idea lingering in the air like a dark, ugly bruise.
Columbia (3/?)
anonymous
February 17 2010, 08:01:48 UTC
“He - he held me down, and he - he put his mouth on mine, and he said that, that I was - that I’d been bad, and that I needed - I needed to know that I wasn’t any kind of hero, that I - And I couldn’t, I couldn’t do anything!” Alfred’s frame tensed; her wail was choked by Matthew’s sweater-vest as she buried her head in his shoulder. “I didn’t want it! I didn’t!” Her teeth gnashed together. Matthew felt the blood drain from his face; his fingers tightened as realization slammed into him like a cannonball. “He - he sat on my legs, and, and Ivan held my hands behind my back so I couldn’t - and he laughed at me…“
Ivan. Some distant, diamond-sharp part of Matthew’s being noted down the name, carefully tucking it away. “Alfred - Columbia.” An old, old name, half joke, half wistful, unspoken desire on his sister’s part for what could have been. If she had been free to be herself. If she had only - “I need to know what they did to you.”
“He touched me, and they - they watched, they all watched, and I told them to stop, I did, and they wouldn’t stop touching me -“
They. The word slammed into Matthew’s mind like an iron door. They.
Someone had tried to hurt America. Had tried to hurt his sibling.
The world burned.
He coaxed the story from his sister word by word. How ‘he’ had hit her, slapped her across her face until she spat blood and told her that people like her didn’t deserve to be called a nation. How ‘they’ had all watched as his sister was told, in explicit detail, exactly what was going to happen to her. What ‘they’ were going to do to her, over and over again, until they succeeded in fucking the stupidity out of ‘him’. Matthew silently thanked maple syrup for small favors; god knew what they would have done if they’d discovered his sister’s actual gender.... How ‘he’ had torn her shirt off, her jacket, until he found the bandages and what they had kept hidden.
They’d migrated to the couch sometime during the narrative, curling around each other like they had when they were children, long before the Europeans set foot on their shores. “And then they all just started yelling at one another, and - Ivan said it didn’t matter, that this just meant one more hold to fill, but Italy said it wasn’t right to hurt a lady and Russia let my hands go and I - “ Tears clogged America’s voice; she shook in his arms. “I hit him with the table.” Rage in his sister’s voice, and a hint of grim satisfaction; Matthew took it as a good sign. “And then I jumped out the window.” Her words fading into the silence that wrapped around them like the echo of shadowy wings.
Matthew looked at his sister; Damage Report whispered the part of his mind that remembered trenches and mud and no-man’s-land. America’s hands were covered scratches; obviously, she hadn’t had time to open the window before hurling herself into empty space. A dark, ugly bruise bloomed yellow and purple on the side of her face; the American squinted through cracked lenses, ragged clothing barely clinging to her frame. Worst of all were her eyes - those bright blue eyes, like the sky at mid-day, were dim with fear and pain.
“Al, I need to borrow your phone.” It was offered with a speed that alarmed the northern country; America loved her technology. His sister was never this pliant.
He dialed. “Hello? No. This is his brother - Canada.” He sighed.
A question.
“Yes, I found him, and no, he’s not okay.”
There was a brief silence before the other voice erupted in a cascade of frenzied questions, the urgency sudden audible even to Alfred. America wrapped her arms around her legs, bringing her knees to her chest as she watched Matthew with wide, panicked eyes.
“He needs to get back to the States as soon as possible. With an armed escort. They tried to - “ rage rose up in his throat, threatening to choke him; he swallowed it back down. Alfred needed him. “It’s an emergency.” He finished softly; his fingers slipped across the keypad as he terminated the call. The blonde looked up to find his sister staring anxiously at him.
Columbia (4/4)
anonymous
February 17 2010, 08:02:52 UTC
“That was your boss.” Canada tried to smile. “He - he’s really worried about you, you know.”
“M-mattie.” America choked. She bowed her head. “Are you - “ her lower lip quivered. “Are you going to -“ She swallowed.
Matthew wrapped his arms around his sister, tucking her head on his shoulder. “I’m not going anywhere, Al.”
“Huh.” America sniffed, scrubbing at her eyes with the back of her hand as she leaned into her brother. “I - I’m not scared of them!” Her voice wobbled. “But if you - if you wanna stay, I mean, if you’re scared of them - I’ll keep you safe, Mattie, I won’t let them get you, I promise…” Her voice was painfully sincere as her fingers clenched in Matthew’s sweatervest.
Matthew was glad his sister couldn’t see the expression on his face. “Al - “ he said hesitantly. “Can you tell me - “ he swallowed. “Who…?”
The words came slowly, one at a time. Alfred spoke each name reluctantly, as if speaking them made it real. Germany. Italy. Prussia. Her shoulders shook; the self-proclaimed hero didn’t stir from the flimsy protection of her brother’s arms. China. Russia. Japan. She managed to gasp out the last two names, entire body shaking with the effort as memories crashed down on her - on both of them. France.
England.
“I thought he -“ Alfred - Columbia - choked back the words. His sister’s arms clenched around him, clutching him with a desperate strength. “I thought he - “
“Shhh.” Matthew soothed her, rocking his sister back and forth. “Shhh…” Part of him gibbered in shock and rage; he pushed it aside. It could wait. Everything could just - just go away for a little while. Later, he - later. The thought held a grim finality; his eyes drifted to the hockey stick propped innocuously in the corner of the room.
For now, it was just the two of them, together, in the darkness.
Important Author's Notes
anonymous
February 17 2010, 08:10:14 UTC
Just a couple quick words -
Yes, I know that I didn't adhere to the 'canon' gangbang thread. And I know that the actions of the some of the characters I have portrayed here might be constituted as seriously OOC. This - is just the way that the story came out, the way it fell together in my head before running out through my fingers onto the keyboard and through to the screen.
I would also like to make it clear that I did not put all that much research into this fic. I do not know what would constitute the psychological effects of a near-rape. I mean, and I cannot stress this enough, I do not mean any offense to any rape victims or victims of abuse. Rape is a terrible thing, and the effects are long-lasting. I apologize if I have inadvertantly offended anyone.
Lastly - I originally had a whole big grand arch for this plotline planned out in my head. Unfortunetely, my muse had other ideas - this came out as a short fill, somewhere halfway through the plot that I dreamed up. As such... I'm putting this plot-thread up for adoption. If someone would like to write about events occuring before or after 'Columbia', I'd very much appreciate it; I think that this idea needs to be developed more.
Re: Important Author's Notes
anonymous
February 17 2010, 20:13:39 UTC
TT_TT Wah, Al! TTT____TTT
I will sell my left kidney if someone will continue this. Namely if Mattie goes and bashes everyone's brains in with that hockey stick! D:< Ok, maybe not "bash their brains in", but definitely injure them.
Re: Important Author's Notes
anonymous
February 18 2010, 04:08:33 UTC
!
What - I don't - this. This is perfect. This is everything I could have dreamed and more from a request like that. Epic love for Canada in this, as his every reaction had me catching my breath and going yes, that is how you should feel, that is perfect. And poor, poor Columbia/America. Very much America: terrified but trying for bravado, hitting people with tables and then running to cry to the only person she can trust right now.
And oh, what I'd give for more of this. I crave it. Want to see what Canada does (YES YES TAKE THE HOCKEY STICK TAKE IT BITCHES) and how the others are reacting to America's secret.
...
*wibbles*
Are you sure you won't continue this? For anything? I am willing to offer just about anything.
my anonship is being stupid today >.<
anonymous
February 18 2010, 04:57:56 UTC
here's to hoping that:
-you get re-inspired by this, because it's really good -I stop being an idiot and de-anoning everywhere >.<
I loved this, because strong fem!America is awesome, and she fared much better than her male counterpart did. She's fucking hardcore.
Also, this fill had already the beginnings of excellent badass!Mattie on the works...any chance this will inspire you again, authoranon? Because it's excellent, I tell you. At least I'd like to see Mattie breaking some skulls, and America getting some of her confidence back protecting her brother...and I wanna see the others freak out at the reveal! (god, everybody must be yelling at France and England for being the worst caretakers ever, not even noticing their child's genderXD).
Oh, on the subject of England and France...there needs to be blood; or at least, some serious guilt-tripping
Re: Important Author's Notes
anonymous
February 22 2010, 05:15:40 UTC
Ideas? (God this thing is so epic)
1) Canada confronts all of the nations one at a time, questioning them in a "bad cop" manner and then punching them all in the face. But first making them completely understand what they were about to do, and making them BEG for forgiveness. Then punching them in the face. 2)Nations reactions to America being a girl. 3)England's thoughts on what he was about to do.(hes the one that tricked her after all)
I just wanted to say to whoever wrote this that I really enjoyed it. Alfred/Columbia comes across very well in this, and was quite likable. Her seesawing between bitter, desperate anger and being so fragile was quite realistic.
And I loved Matthew in this. He starts sorta laid back but you do very good job slowly drawing the part of him that served as England's side as his iron fist during the world wars. I really hope to this get continued someday as their are so many interesting ways it could go.
Columbia
Matthew moaned, absently rubbing his temples as he dragged himself down the corridor.
He’d always rather thought that Buchheim had put it best. Meetings between Nations bore a suspicious resemblance to long periods of boredom interspersed with short periods of excitement... The northern nation snorted as he fumbled for his key card. Theses get-togethers could never really be defined as ‘peaceful’, but this one had been surprisingly uneventful. So far. If you discounted Arthur’s attempts to burn down the kitchen, Prussia’s imitation of a singing telegram halfway through Austria’s lecture on chromatic scales, Francis hitting on everything that moved…
Still, all things considered, the day had been - quiet.
Except for Alfred. The blonde sighed in a mixture of resignation and tired affection. His brother hadn’t quite recovered from his cold, but you’d never be able to tell from looking at him. Alfred - Alfred had shone, unrelenting enthusiasm and sheer stubborn optimism practically leaking from his pores as he disseminated his latest plan to stave off climate change by means of a giant robot that would assemble the five planetary crystals from the stratosphere…
Matthew wondered if he was the only one who had been able to see the fatigue in Alfred’s eyes, or the slight edge of hesitation to his movements as he laid out his latest harebrained scheme.
Canada smiled faintly. His brother was growing up.
Bad (and contagious) as it had been, the American Recession had been the best thing to happen to Alfred in decades. It had forced his brother to think rather then simply react, pressuring him to discard his preconceptions in favor of what worked. Matthew smiled again. He hadn’t seen his brother like this for a long time, not for at least fifty years. Maybe even before than, back when the world had been - not simple, things had never been simple, but - clearer. The US had made his share of mistakes, but he’d learned from them - evolve, adopt, adapt, that was Alfred’s way.
America’s newfound maturity had come at a high cost, but it had been worth it to have his brother back again, brilliant and shining, as he was meant to be.
Canada sighed again, sliding his keycard through his door lock and waiting for the light to turn green. He hadn’t had much to contribute to the meeting - there were some advantages to invisibility - but he was exausted nonetheless. He’d been yawning by the time Germany slammed his gavel down for the last time, looking forward to a quiet dinner and a midnight hockey marathon; he’d even gone so far as to refuse Arthur’s invitation to a get-together ‘for old time’s sake’, though Alfred had been happy enough to oblige. Matthew smiled again, lips curling into an expression of exasperated fondness. Alfred had practically lit from the inside with startled pleasure at Arthur’s invitation. Superpower Al might be, but he could be surprisingly insecure at times. He’d been deathly afraid that everyone hated him after his latest Recession. Canada shook his head slightly as the door clicked open. It was nice to see his brother proved wrong.
“Kumajiro?” Canada ducked his head as he stepped inside warm darkness of his room. He’d left the polar bear on the bed this morning; Kumajiro hadn’t been all interested in attending the meeting. As a matter of fact, neither had Matthew, but he didn’t have the excuse of short-term amnesia... The door slid shut behind him. “Are you in here?” Canada frowned. Something -
“Mattie?”
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“Al?” Matthew took a cautious half-step forward. “Alfred, if this is because you watched another horror movie - “
Alfred let out a half-stifled sob; the bear went flying to the side as America lunged forward, wrapping his arms around his brother. “Mattie…” His voice was a choked gasp, shoulders rising and falling in an unmistakable rhythm.
Matthew felt his own eyes widen as Alfred pressed against him. Scardy-cat his brother might be but this - His stomach roiled. He hadn’t seen America like this since the Civil War.
Something was very, very wrong.
Alfred pulled back, staring at him through wide, almost panicked eyes; Matthew felt something inside of him clench into a small, tight ball at the sight of the tear tracks running down his brother’s cheeks. Canada reached up, gently brushing Alfred’s hair to the side. Alfred flinched at his touch; Matthew felt his own hands freeze in place as he stared at his brother’s face. A dark, mottled bruise spread across America’s face; his lower lip was bleeding, and his neck was littered with - were those bites? Matthew held his brother at arm’s length; Alfred made a small, choked sound, but held still as Canada’s gaze roamed up and down his frame.
Alfred’s clothes were little more then tattered scraps of cloth; his shirt had been ripped apart, the remnants clinging to his frame and exposing the - Matthew felt himself flush at the sight of the bandages wrapped around his bro - his sibling’s chest. His embarrassment was rapidly subsumed by concern; the wrappings were at last halfway unraveled, exposing the twin bumps denoting Alfred’s true sex.
Matthew was used to thinking of Alfred as his brother. His sibling played her role to perfection; no one would ever believe that America was not what he - she - portrayed herself as. Namely, male. He’d asked his sister once, why she felt the need to deceive the world community; Alfred had tilted her head to the side, expression oddly serious as she considered his question.
Because it wasn’t safe for women - at least, not when they were children. Because she would have been treated with kid gloves, forbidden to do anything interesting. Because there weren’t many female nations anyway, and it was so easy to make people believe what they wanted to believe… Because she liked having a secret. She’d flashed her trademark grin at Matthew, that bright, dazzling smile, and he’d felt himself flush with pleasure at the realization that he was the only one who knew, the only one Alfred trusted with the truth.
America had kept her secret for years. By now, the practice was more then simple routine. She hardly ever let her disguise drop, not even in the safety of her own home; for her to display it now… “Alfred?” He opened his arms in a gesture of invitation, frown deepening as Alfred all but lunged into his embrace.
“They tried to - they wanted to hurt me, Mattie, they - “ Alfred was trembling, convulsive shivers rippling up and down her frame.
The other Nation stared down at the self-proclaimed ‘hero.’ “What - America, what - “ His arms came up, folding almost automatically around his sibling.
A dreadful, ugly suspicion was running through Matthew’s mind. “Al - did they try to - did they to…” The words trailed off into silence, the idea lingering in the air like a dark, ugly bruise.
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Ivan. Some distant, diamond-sharp part of Matthew’s being noted down the name, carefully tucking it away. “Alfred - Columbia.” An old, old name, half joke, half wistful, unspoken desire on his sister’s part for what could have been. If she had been free to be herself. If she had only - “I need to know what they did to you.”
“He touched me, and they - they watched, they all watched, and I told them to stop, I did, and they wouldn’t stop touching me -“
They. The word slammed into Matthew’s mind like an iron door. They.
Someone had tried to hurt America. Had tried to hurt his sibling.
The world burned.
He coaxed the story from his sister word by word. How ‘he’ had hit her, slapped her across her face until she spat blood and told her that people like her didn’t deserve to be called a nation. How ‘they’ had all watched as his sister was told, in explicit detail, exactly what was going to happen to her. What ‘they’ were going to do to her, over and over again, until they succeeded in fucking the stupidity out of ‘him’. Matthew silently thanked maple syrup for small favors; god knew what they would have done if they’d discovered his sister’s actual gender.... How ‘he’ had torn her shirt off, her jacket, until he found the bandages and what they had kept hidden.
They’d migrated to the couch sometime during the narrative, curling around each other like they had when they were children, long before the Europeans set foot on their shores. “And then they all just started yelling at one another, and - Ivan said it didn’t matter, that this just meant one more hold to fill, but Italy said it wasn’t right to hurt a lady and Russia let my hands go and I - “ Tears clogged America’s voice; she shook in his arms. “I hit him with the table.” Rage in his sister’s voice, and a hint of grim satisfaction; Matthew took it as a good sign. “And then I jumped out the window.” Her words fading into the silence that wrapped around them like the echo of shadowy wings.
Matthew looked at his sister; Damage Report whispered the part of his mind that remembered trenches and mud and no-man’s-land. America’s hands were covered scratches; obviously, she hadn’t had time to open the window before hurling herself into empty space. A dark, ugly bruise bloomed yellow and purple on the side of her face; the American squinted through cracked lenses, ragged clothing barely clinging to her frame. Worst of all were her eyes - those bright blue eyes, like the sky at mid-day, were dim with fear and pain.
“Al, I need to borrow your phone.” It was offered with a speed that alarmed the northern country; America loved her technology. His sister was never this pliant.
He dialed. “Hello? No. This is his brother - Canada.” He sighed.
A question.
“Yes, I found him, and no, he’s not okay.”
There was a brief silence before the other voice erupted in a cascade of frenzied questions, the urgency sudden audible even to Alfred. America wrapped her arms around her legs, bringing her knees to her chest as she watched Matthew with wide, panicked eyes.
“He needs to get back to the States as soon as possible. With an armed escort. They tried to - “ rage rose up in his throat, threatening to choke him; he swallowed it back down. Alfred needed him. “It’s an emergency.” He finished softly; his fingers slipped across the keypad as he terminated the call. The blonde looked up to find his sister staring anxiously at him.
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“M-mattie.” America choked. She bowed her head. “Are you - “ her lower lip quivered. “Are you going to -“ She swallowed.
Matthew wrapped his arms around his sister, tucking her head on his shoulder. “I’m not going anywhere, Al.”
“Huh.” America sniffed, scrubbing at her eyes with the back of her hand as she leaned into her brother. “I - I’m not scared of them!” Her voice wobbled. “But if you - if you wanna stay, I mean, if you’re scared of them - I’ll keep you safe, Mattie, I won’t let them get you, I promise…” Her voice was painfully sincere as her fingers clenched in Matthew’s sweatervest.
Matthew was glad his sister couldn’t see the expression on his face. “Al - “ he said hesitantly. “Can you tell me - “ he swallowed. “Who…?”
The words came slowly, one at a time. Alfred spoke each name reluctantly, as if speaking them made it real. Germany. Italy. Prussia. Her shoulders shook; the self-proclaimed hero didn’t stir from the flimsy protection of her brother’s arms. China. Russia. Japan. She managed to gasp out the last two names, entire body shaking with the effort as memories crashed down on her - on both of them. France.
England.
“I thought he -“ Alfred - Columbia - choked back the words. His sister’s arms clenched around him, clutching him with a desperate strength. “I thought he - “
“Shhh.” Matthew soothed her, rocking his sister back and forth. “Shhh…” Part of him gibbered in shock and rage; he pushed it aside. It could wait. Everything could just - just go away for a little while. Later, he - later. The thought held a grim finality; his eyes drifted to the hockey stick propped innocuously in the corner of the room.
For now, it was just the two of them, together, in the darkness.
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Yes, I know that I didn't adhere to the 'canon' gangbang thread. And I know that the actions of the some of the characters I have portrayed here might be constituted as seriously OOC. This - is just the way that the story came out, the way it fell together in my head before running out through my fingers onto the keyboard and through to the screen.
I would also like to make it clear that I did not put all that much research into this fic. I do not know what would constitute the psychological effects of a near-rape. I mean, and I cannot stress this enough, I do not mean any offense to any rape victims or victims of abuse. Rape is a terrible thing, and the effects are long-lasting. I apologize if I have inadvertantly offended anyone.
Lastly - I originally had a whole big grand arch for this plotline planned out in my head. Unfortunetely, my muse had other ideas - this came out as a short fill, somewhere halfway through the plot that I dreamed up. As such... I'm putting this plot-thread up for adoption. If someone would like to write about events occuring before or after 'Columbia', I'd very much appreciate it; I think that this idea needs to be developed more.
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ANON. I'M HOLDING BACK TEARS NOW.
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I will sell my left kidney if someone will continue this. Namely if Mattie goes and bashes everyone's brains in with that hockey stick! D:<
Ok, maybe not "bash their brains in", but definitely injure them.
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I... just, wow. Your writing style is very powerful and touching.
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What - I don't - this. This is perfect. This is everything I could have dreamed and more from a request like that. Epic love for Canada in this, as his every reaction had me catching my breath and going yes, that is how you should feel, that is perfect. And poor, poor Columbia/America. Very much America: terrified but trying for bravado, hitting people with tables and then running to cry to the only person she can trust right now.
And oh, what I'd give for more of this. I crave it. Want to see what Canada does (YES YES TAKE THE HOCKEY STICK TAKE IT BITCHES) and how the others are reacting to America's secret.
...
*wibbles*
Are you sure you won't continue this? For anything? I am willing to offer just about anything.
Very enjoyable fill.
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-you get re-inspired by this, because it's really good
-I stop being an idiot and de-anoning everywhere >.<
I loved this, because strong fem!America is awesome, and she fared much better than her male counterpart did. She's fucking hardcore.
Also, this fill had already the beginnings of excellent badass!Mattie on the works...any chance this will inspire you again, authoranon? Because it's excellent, I tell you. At least I'd like to see Mattie breaking some skulls, and America getting some of her confidence back protecting her brother...and I wanna see the others freak out at the reveal! (god, everybody must be yelling at France and England for being the worst caretakers ever, not even noticing their child's genderXD).
Oh, on the subject of England and France...there needs to be blood; or at least, some serious guilt-tripping
very good fill, authoranon!
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Fuck YES America.
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You're doing it right.
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1) Canada confronts all of the nations one at a time, questioning them in a "bad cop" manner and then punching them all in the face. But first making them completely understand what they were about to do, and making them BEG for forgiveness. Then punching them in the face.
2)Nations reactions to America being a girl.
3)England's thoughts on what he was about to do.(hes the one that tricked her after all)
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If someone wants to follow up on these ideas (you up for it?) they have my whole-hearted support.
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And I loved Matthew in this. He starts sorta laid back but you do very good job slowly drawing the part of him that served as England's side as his iron fist during the world wars. I really hope to this get continued someday as their are so many interesting ways it could go.
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