part 10 ; Sing Sung Songs [14/?]
anonymous
July 6 2010, 09:03:12 UTC
America- when he’d asked about this (“How do you think we’d look?”), had grown stubble with him when they were young, he’d still been part of England and America a nation- they’d rubbed their fingers over the other’s, rubbed those whiskered cheeks against one another, comparing growth speed, colour and texture. England had visited once during this experiment. America had promptly shaved it off after he’d seen it, became irritated and was gone. Deriving a certain pleasure in every little crease of England’s brow.
“America loves England.”
France sits back, crosses a leg. Fingers twitch in the fold of his hands, he holds a hand out to place on Canada’s shoulder as the younger nation buries his face in his hands, cheeks feeling the sweat that’s spread on his palms. That hand does not reach its destination as muffled, but louder than the voice that is not screened behind the shield of flesh and bone.
“He slept with England.”
Incredulous, that noise- it’s not a chuckle, but it’s a sort of laugh.
“Of course have you seen them now-”
“Before he was a nation.”
France’s throat closes up.
“Before he could-”
Canada’s eyes glisten, moisten as he peers over his hands, voice growing steadily stronger though it quakes.
“-before his head could rest against your shoulder or your hip.”
England’s hip. When America could just reach it, England would fumble his touch against the back of America’s head on the cushions of a chair in the room he’d love to sew in, fumble those fingers to hook under America’s chin and hold it in place as his other hand reached to tug out from beneath his breeches-
France’s grip slips away as he stands, so violently straightforward with a sharpness grace cannot attend. It alarms Canada but does not stop him from finishing.
“Not in the way you and I would.”
Under the covers, it’s cold, but big brother is there to warm him in a gentle embrace, as drifting and soft, they fell to slumber, to dream. Canada does not fear ghosts or monsters in the dark where he’s found peace and comfort in anticipation of another day (there must be night for day to come) unlike America who cries at any small sound, any small indication of movement, shadow that is or is not there. Monsters to eat him, ghosts to haunt him. America fears the dark, for what it brings to him is not the same as what it brings to Canada.
-pressed so deeply it might as well they be one body, one figure estranged in the pitch dark. Sleepily rub away vision, Canada can only creep back to bed and pretend and ignore and forget-
Augh, all those little snippets of the past are heart-breaking enough, but I still feel so bad for Canada-- And now France, too! Canada, who was unable to stop what was happening or even able to say anything -- he still has that kind of "I know something you don't know, and it's even more horrible than you could imagine" feeling. France, entirely unknowing. And neither able to fix the present or future, either. >_< Although I'm looking forward to France kicking some ass, either literally or metaphorically. *cheers big brother France on*
That last line is a tiny piece of heart-break, but this is just gorgeous:
Under the covers, it’s cold, but big brother is there to warm him in a gentle embrace, as drifting and soft, they fell to slumber, to dream. Canada does not fear ghosts or monsters in the dark where he’s found peace and comfort in anticipation of another day (there must be night for day to come) unlike America who cries at any small sound, any small indication of movement, shadow that is or is not there. Monsters to eat him, ghosts to haunt him. America fears the dark, for what it brings to him is not the same as what it brings to Canada.
God, that's seriously heart-breaking. And enough to fuck everyone up for life. T_T
... Captcha: "Mermaids know" Er, then the mermaids need to kick England's ass and/or get him some therapy? Preferably both, dammit.
Re: part 10 ; Sing Sung Songs [14/?]
anonymous
July 7 2010, 02:06:32 UTC
You... you're back! *sobs in happiness*
When I saw this on the Fill list, I immediately went back and reread the previous parts then this new part. I crave more now!
Gosh, shit's really going to hit the fan after this part, isn't it? France's reaction was so wonderfully written. It wasn't written as being over the top, and just perfect.
My favorite part was this paragraph:
Under the covers, it’s cold, but big brother is there to warm him in a gentle embrace, as drifting and soft, they fell to slumber, to dream. Canada does not fear ghosts or monsters in the dark where he’s found peace and comfort in anticipation of another day (there must be night for day to come) unlike America who cries at any small sound, any small indication of movement, shadow that is or is not there. Monsters to eat him, ghosts to haunt him. America fears the dark, for what it brings to him is not the same as what it brings to Canada.
Re: part 10 ; Sing Sung Songs [14/?]
anonymous
July 9 2010, 09:09:04 UTC
OMG I'm so happy your back!! oh wow.. this is so sad.. and the last part. whoa! ow my heart, but I love you for it.<3 why does America's personality fit so well with this it's becoming my head cannon. I think I'm going to cry.. poor America. ;_; why are you so amazing Author!Anon?
Re: part 10 ; Sing Sung Songs [14/?]
anonymous
August 2 2010, 06:41:32 UTC
I only just found this while perusing the recs list and read everything in one go, and I'm kind of overwhelmed by the richness of emotions and your style. You've given me an ache I'm not sure I want to shake off. Amazing.
“America loves England.”
France sits back, crosses a leg. Fingers twitch in the fold of his hands, he holds a hand out to place on Canada’s shoulder as the younger nation buries his face in his hands, cheeks feeling the sweat that’s spread on his palms. That hand does not reach its destination as muffled, but louder than the voice that is not screened behind the shield of flesh and bone.
“He slept with England.”
Incredulous, that noise- it’s not a chuckle, but it’s a sort of laugh.
“Of course have you seen them now-”
“Before he was a nation.”
France’s throat closes up.
“Before he could-”
Canada’s eyes glisten, moisten as he peers over his hands, voice growing steadily stronger though it quakes.
“-before his head could rest against your shoulder or your hip.”
England’s hip. When America could just reach it, England would fumble his touch against the back of America’s head on the cushions of a chair in the room he’d love to sew in, fumble those fingers to hook under America’s chin and hold it in place as his other hand reached to tug out from beneath his breeches-
France’s grip slips away as he stands, so violently straightforward with a sharpness grace cannot attend. It alarms Canada but does not stop him from finishing.
“Not in the way you and I would.”
Under the covers, it’s cold, but big brother is there to warm him in a gentle embrace, as drifting and soft, they fell to slumber, to dream. Canada does not fear ghosts or monsters in the dark where he’s found peace and comfort in anticipation of another day (there must be night for day to come) unlike America who cries at any small sound, any small indication of movement, shadow that is or is not there. Monsters to eat him, ghosts to haunt him. America fears the dark, for what it brings to him is not the same as what it brings to Canada.
-pressed so deeply it might as well they be one body, one figure estranged in the pitch dark. Sleepily rub away vision, Canada can only creep back to bed and pretend and ignore and forget-
England loves America more.
--
TBC
Reply
... I'm going to reread everything before I read this, but welcome back. ♥~
Duuuuuude, Captcha is excited too: "breakthrough fondled" D:
Reply
That last line is a tiny piece of heart-break, but this is just gorgeous:
Under the covers, it’s cold, but big brother is there to warm him in a gentle embrace, as drifting and soft, they fell to slumber, to dream. Canada does not fear ghosts or monsters in the dark where he’s found peace and comfort in anticipation of another day (there must be night for day to come) unlike America who cries at any small sound, any small indication of movement, shadow that is or is not there. Monsters to eat him, ghosts to haunt him. America fears the dark, for what it brings to him is not the same as what it brings to Canada.
God, that's seriously heart-breaking. And enough to fuck everyone up for life. T_T
... Captcha: "Mermaids know" Er, then the mermaids need to kick England's ass and/or get him some therapy? Preferably both, dammit.
Reply
When I saw this on the Fill list, I immediately went back and reread the previous parts then this new part. I crave more now!
Gosh, shit's really going to hit the fan after this part, isn't it? France's reaction was so wonderfully written. It wasn't written as being over the top, and just perfect.
My favorite part was this paragraph:
Under the covers, it’s cold, but big brother is there to warm him in a gentle embrace, as drifting and soft, they fell to slumber, to dream. Canada does not fear ghosts or monsters in the dark where he’s found peace and comfort in anticipation of another day (there must be night for day to come) unlike America who cries at any small sound, any small indication of movement, shadow that is or is not there. Monsters to eat him, ghosts to haunt him. America fears the dark, for what it brings to him is not the same as what it brings to Canada.
Oh... it really pulls at my heart. America... ;_;
Reply
oh wow.. this is so sad.. and the last part. whoa! ow my heart, but I love you for it.<3 why does America's personality fit so well with this it's becoming my head cannon. I think I'm going to cry.. poor America. ;_; why are you so amazing Author!Anon?
Reply
Reply
Reply
(Wanna join me in stalking this thread? :D)
Reply
Reply
T-THIS FILL. I THINK I'M GOING TO CRY NOW, ANON.
p-please more... I'm such a sucker for angst and trauma and heartbreak...
Reply
Leave a comment