Re: C-Can I fill this?
anonymous
May 27 2009, 01:24:41 UTC
Alright! Here comes the fill! I hope you like it; It’s my first fill! --- Spilt Sugar: Part 1/2
It had started off as a sunny day, a bright, cheerful morning, the type of morning that Finland absolutely loved. He loved getting up early on days like this, to get a head start on the chores of the day. Sweden was usually up before he was, and sure enough, when Finland awoke that day to sunlight streaming through the bedroom window, Sweden’s side of the bed (why did they sleep in the same bed again?) was empty and cool to the touch.
Blinking the sleep from his eyes, Finland yawned and pushed the blankets away. It was time to start his usual morning routine.
First, he made the bed, pulling the sheets tight against the mattress, fluffing the pillows, noting that they were starting to get flat - they were due to be restuffed, he supposed. After that, he went to his dresser and took some clothes from its drawers; they were light, comfy clothes, perfect for spending a quiet day at home in. He changed into them, not bothering to shower (after all, he always showered at night), and went to the bathroom to brush his teeth and hair.
Soon enough, Finland had finished all the small things he usually did. As he left the bathroom to go start breakfast, however, a thought struck him.
Where’s Hanatamago? The white puffball of a puppy was usually right at his heels by now, yipping at Finland, asking in his own way to be fed. It was a bit odd that Hanatamago hadn’t gotten up yet…
Then again, the dog had been acting strange for the past week or so. He wasn’t jumping around as much, and he seemed to be eating less. He and Sweden had both agreed that they needed to take him to a veterinarian, and had scheduled an appointment for tomorrow afternoon; it had been the only time the office had for them. Still, for him to not be up yet was worrisome…
“…He’ll probably get up when he hears his breakfast,” Finland said to himself, trying to fend off any worries. After all, Hanatamago was still pretty young. He should be fine.
So, confident that everything was okay, Finland went to the kitchen and started to fill up Hanatamago’s bowls. He hummed as he rinsed and filled the dog’s water bowl, and he continued to hum as he let a scoop of dry dog food clatter into the food bowl. Once it was all set up, he turned around, expecting Hanatamago to be there behind him, wagging his fuzzy tail and looking at Finland with wide, happy eyes.
But Hanatamago wasn’t there.
“…Hana?”
Nothing.
“…Hanatamago?” Finland started back to his room, where Hanatamago always slept. He kept calling the dog’s name, worry growing by the second. He didn’t come, he always comes when he’s called, why isn’t he here?
He opened the bedroom door and quickly walked to Hanatamago’s bed, a big, blue pillow sitting underneath the bedroom window. The sun barely shone on that part of the floor, so that area was still dark, but Finland could easily make out Hanatamago’s white fur.
“Hana?”
The dog didn’t move. Finland crouched down by the dog’s bed. “Hana, come on, it’s breakfast time. Aren’t you hungry?” He reached out his hand and shook the dog a little.
Hanatamago’s body was unusually cold.
Finland’s arm froze, and his brow furrowed. “Hana…tamago…?” He shook the dog again. There was no reaction. In fact, Finland couldn’t feel the dog move at all, didn’t see his chest rising or falling, didn’t see the dog twitch…
Suddenly, everything felt very cold. Finland pulled his hand away. He didn’t notice that he’d started to shake.
“Hana…?” His voice was tiny, but begging, pleading. “Hanatamago…Hana, wake up. Get up.” He could feel tears in his eyes. “Get up, Hana. Get up!” No, there was no way…no! No! Hanatamago just couldn’t be…
Finland jumped slightly when he heard the door behind him open. He turned his head, and blinked, feeling tears roll down his cheeks. Sweden was standing in the doorway, looking at Finland with what could be called a confused expression.
Su-san! I, I didn’t hear him come in…
Sweden tilted his head slightly, his brow furrowed. “Finland? What’s th’ matt’r?” His eyes flickered to Hanatamago. “’S th’ dog ‘lright?”
Spilt Sugar, Part 2/2
anonymous
May 27 2009, 02:04:01 UTC
Spilt Sugar: Part 2/2 ---
Finland himself didn’t have many black-colored clothes, but he made an effort to find some. Sweden had already been wearing some dark clothes, so he hadn’t changed. They were in their field of a backyard, Sweden standing, Finland crouched down, both of them looking at what had taken them an hour to create.
It looked like, for all intensive purposes, a mound of soil with a makeshift cross sticking out of it, but it was much more than that. They had wrapped Hanatamago’s tiny body in the blanket that he loved to play tug-of-war with, and Sweden had dug the hole while Finland took two sticks and tied them together with some twine. It was the best they could do, for now.
Finland had stopped sobbing, but he hadn’t stopped crying; his eyes were red and puffy, but still leaking droplets of saltwater. Sweden hadn’t cried; instead, his jaw looked like it was stuck in one place, and his eyes were dark.
They stayed and stared in silence, a soft breeze ruffling the grass and wildflowers around them, the sun still shining so happily, but it shouldn’t be, it shouldn’t, not when such a sad thing had happened.
It was Sweden who broke the silence, oddly enough.
“Finland.”
No response.
“Finland, we sh’d go ‘nside.”
“…I don’t want to.” When Sweden didn’t respond, he went on, reaching up to wipe his eyes. “I just…it’s like…he left us in his sleep…and…and we couldn’t stop him…” His shoulders shook. “W-we should’ve gotten him check out sooner, I…I dunno…” His breath started to hitch, like a warning. “Su-san, we should’ve realized…” His tears started to come faster, and Finland was so caught up in wiping them away that he didn’t realize that Sweden had kneeled down next to him until he was being held by strong arms.
“Ssh…” Sweden’s voice was soft, but in a low, kind of growly way that only his voice could sound like. “‘S okay, Finland.” He held him a little tighter. “He’s ‘n dog heav’n now. Uh…” Sweden swallowed, pausing, as if trying to gather his thoughts. “He’s play’n w’th all th’ oth’r dogs ‘n hav’n lots a’ fun. Pr’mise.”
And Finland wanted to cry a little harder, then, because Sweden was trying his best to cheer him up (or perhaps to cheer both of them up), even though they both knew that it would take time for them to heal. Without Hanatamago, the house would seem emptier, and a little bit of their hearts would go with him.
Fin --- Writer!Anon would like to apologize if this wasn’t to your taste, but I tried my best. ^^; Also, sorry for the mess up with the above post; should've titled it better...my bad.
---
Spilt Sugar: Part 1/2
It had started off as a sunny day, a bright, cheerful morning, the type of morning that Finland absolutely loved. He loved getting up early on days like this, to get a head start on the chores of the day. Sweden was usually up before he was, and sure enough, when Finland awoke that day to sunlight streaming through the bedroom window, Sweden’s side of the bed (why did they sleep in the same bed again?) was empty and cool to the touch.
Blinking the sleep from his eyes, Finland yawned and pushed the blankets away. It was time to start his usual morning routine.
First, he made the bed, pulling the sheets tight against the mattress, fluffing the pillows, noting that they were starting to get flat - they were due to be restuffed, he supposed. After that, he went to his dresser and took some clothes from its drawers; they were light, comfy clothes, perfect for spending a quiet day at home in. He changed into them, not bothering to shower (after all, he always showered at night), and went to the bathroom to brush his teeth and hair.
Soon enough, Finland had finished all the small things he usually did. As he left the bathroom to go start breakfast, however, a thought struck him.
Where’s Hanatamago? The white puffball of a puppy was usually right at his heels by now, yipping at Finland, asking in his own way to be fed. It was a bit odd that Hanatamago hadn’t gotten up yet…
Then again, the dog had been acting strange for the past week or so. He wasn’t jumping around as much, and he seemed to be eating less. He and Sweden had both agreed that they needed to take him to a veterinarian, and had scheduled an appointment for tomorrow afternoon; it had been the only time the office had for them. Still, for him to not be up yet was worrisome…
“…He’ll probably get up when he hears his breakfast,” Finland said to himself, trying to fend off any worries. After all, Hanatamago was still pretty young. He should be fine.
So, confident that everything was okay, Finland went to the kitchen and started to fill up Hanatamago’s bowls. He hummed as he rinsed and filled the dog’s water bowl, and he continued to hum as he let a scoop of dry dog food clatter into the food bowl. Once it was all set up, he turned around, expecting Hanatamago to be there behind him, wagging his fuzzy tail and looking at Finland with wide, happy eyes.
But Hanatamago wasn’t there.
“…Hana?”
Nothing.
“…Hanatamago?” Finland started back to his room, where Hanatamago always slept. He kept calling the dog’s name, worry growing by the second. He didn’t come, he always comes when he’s called, why isn’t he here?
He opened the bedroom door and quickly walked to Hanatamago’s bed, a big, blue pillow sitting underneath the bedroom window. The sun barely shone on that part of the floor, so that area was still dark, but Finland could easily make out Hanatamago’s white fur.
“Hana?”
The dog didn’t move. Finland crouched down by the dog’s bed.
“Hana, come on, it’s breakfast time. Aren’t you hungry?” He reached out his hand and shook the dog a little.
Hanatamago’s body was unusually cold.
Finland’s arm froze, and his brow furrowed. “Hana…tamago…?” He shook the dog again. There was no reaction. In fact, Finland couldn’t feel the dog move at all, didn’t see his chest rising or falling, didn’t see the dog twitch…
Suddenly, everything felt very cold. Finland pulled his hand away. He didn’t notice that he’d started to shake.
“Hana…?” His voice was tiny, but begging, pleading. “Hanatamago…Hana, wake up. Get up.” He could feel tears in his eyes. “Get up, Hana. Get up!” No, there was no way…no! No! Hanatamago just couldn’t be…
Finland jumped slightly when he heard the door behind him open. He turned his head, and blinked, feeling tears roll down his cheeks. Sweden was standing in the doorway, looking at Finland with what could be called a confused expression.
Su-san! I, I didn’t hear him come in…
Sweden tilted his head slightly, his brow furrowed. “Finland? What’s th’ matt’r?” His eyes flickered to Hanatamago. “’S th’ dog ‘lright?”
And that was when Finland started to sob.
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---
Finland himself didn’t have many black-colored clothes, but he made an effort to find some. Sweden had already been wearing some dark clothes, so he hadn’t changed. They were in their field of a backyard, Sweden standing, Finland crouched down, both of them looking at what had taken them an hour to create.
It looked like, for all intensive purposes, a mound of soil with a makeshift cross sticking out of it, but it was much more than that. They had wrapped Hanatamago’s tiny body in the blanket that he loved to play tug-of-war with, and Sweden had dug the hole while Finland took two sticks and tied them together with some twine. It was the best they could do, for now.
Finland had stopped sobbing, but he hadn’t stopped crying; his eyes were red and puffy, but still leaking droplets of saltwater. Sweden hadn’t cried; instead, his jaw looked like it was stuck in one place, and his eyes were dark.
They stayed and stared in silence, a soft breeze ruffling the grass and wildflowers around them, the sun still shining so happily, but it shouldn’t be, it shouldn’t, not when such a sad thing had happened.
It was Sweden who broke the silence, oddly enough.
“Finland.”
No response.
“Finland, we sh’d go ‘nside.”
“…I don’t want to.” When Sweden didn’t respond, he went on, reaching up to wipe his eyes. “I just…it’s like…he left us in his sleep…and…and we couldn’t stop him…” His shoulders shook. “W-we should’ve gotten him check out sooner, I…I dunno…” His breath started to hitch, like a warning. “Su-san, we should’ve realized…” His tears started to come faster, and Finland was so caught up in wiping them away that he didn’t realize that Sweden had kneeled down next to him until he was being held by strong arms.
“Ssh…” Sweden’s voice was soft, but in a low, kind of growly way that only his voice could sound like. “‘S okay, Finland.” He held him a little tighter. “He’s ‘n dog heav’n now. Uh…” Sweden swallowed, pausing, as if trying to gather his thoughts. “He’s play’n w’th all th’ oth’r dogs ‘n hav’n lots a’ fun. Pr’mise.”
And Finland wanted to cry a little harder, then, because Sweden was trying his best to cheer him up (or perhaps to cheer both of them up), even though they both knew that it would take time for them to heal. Without Hanatamago, the house would seem emptier, and a little bit of their hearts would go with him.
Fin
---
Writer!Anon would like to apologize if this wasn’t to your taste, but I tried my best. ^^; Also, sorry for the mess up with the above post; should've titled it better...my bad.
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Not OP 2.
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Thanks for filling it.
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