[FICATHON] Pity My Picture Burning, for aka_centimetre2

[angevin2]

Title: Pity My Picture Burning
Author: highfantastical
Recipient: aka_centimetre2
Play: Richard II
Rating: R
Pairings: Richard/Henry, Richard/Aumerle, Richard/Anne, Henry/Mary.
Warnings: Angst, possible crime, allusions to suicide attempt, possible self-injury triggers, reference to past child abuse.
Summary: In 1983, an acclaimed English artist dies in mysterious circumstances

Comments

[aka_centimetre2]

Oh, wow. This is totally my favorite kind of story - layers upon layers building, and what a final scene! Thank you so much, it's really excellent!

[likeadeuce]

I love the details and the complex emotions of the relationships in this. Very lovely & heart wrenching. And that last line is killer.

[gileonnen]

This is such a complicated, intricate piece--very like the patterns on England's gown: at first, when one looks casually, there's merely the vague impression of intricacy and care. Soon, though, the patterns traced over the whole become apparent, and there are quiet correspondences everywhere. The blue of Henry's jersey, the blue on Richard's hands; the dark hollows under Richard's eyes and the slices on Henry's arms; Edward's questions echoing faintly in Hal's questions. What happened? Where were you? What do you remember? The decades weave over one another until the past overlays the present and forces its own shape onto what's to come. I said before that this piece was dreamlike, but I think that really it has that exhausted, manic energy that sustains Richard--so horribly alert and wakeful that the world gets bright and clear around the edges.

I really am deeply impressed. Forgive the babbling; it's only because I'm so deeply impressed. <33

[speak_me_fair]

This is just absolutely amazing -- the way the timescale blends and merges, the sharp images contrasting with the dream-like overlay that time has given the story. The immediacy and pain of Hal and Edward, and the conversation that must have happened, in any AU or even just as a missing canon-scene, and the reassurance that Edward cannot quite give because he does not quite believe it himself.

Turnbull and Asser, seasoned with a little New Hampshire earth.

Beautiful.

[angevin2]

I love this fic so much. I love the dreamlike quality of it and the characterizations and the way random details keep intruding into the characters' mental landscapes, and the way it's never actually clear what really happened, which is utterly true to, if not the specifics, then the sensibility of canon.

And I also love the image of Richard feeding Edward wine at stoplights because that is so them.

And ALSO I want to give all of them SO MANY HUGS. BECAUSE. OMG BOYS.