Are You Sleeping, Brother John? [1/3?]
anonymous
June 16 2009, 23:00:31 UTC
I’m not the original anon who offered to fill this, but the plot intrigued me. So I hope you enjoy this, nonetheless. God, France, why are you such an easy puppy to kick? ___
Arthur finally finds the great git in the nursery, of all places.
Then again, he shouldn’t be surprised. He’s Francis. He thinks himself suave, attractive, and smooth. He’s regarded as a country of culture and elegance.
He’s a man fast asleep on the floor of the children’s room, snoring loud and long as he presses his face into a doll’s dress. The candlelight casts thin highlights in his hair and shadows on his face. And Arthur almost thinks he’s beautiful when he realizes that the daft bastard is asleep on the floor of the children’s roomArthur huffs out a sigh and puts a foot in the room, opening his mouth to tell the poncy twit off
( ... )
England comforts a nearly mentally-cracked, bloodstained France after he commits a murder/assassination of an important figure during the French Revolution.
I'll be happy even if it's just an embrace or kiss..
Not OP, but utterly glad to see this request being filled now. ^^ The first part itself has already put a smile to my face as you describe the children playing with Francis, and I'm already anticipating on what is to come.
Anon here looking forward to more parts!!!
Did you perhaps also wrote some Spain/Romano fics? Such as the one Antonio tango with Lovino, or the other with them running away from a herd of bulls? Plus the one with Gilbert and young Ludwig on candy making? Or Francis' many "I love you"? =D
Re: Are You Sleeping, Brother John? [2/?]
anonymous
June 18 2009, 04:20:48 UTC
Marie pouts up at him, but she still lifts her head to kiss his cheek before lying back and shutting her eyes.
Arthur jumps as the baby whimpers. Francis shushes it, bouncing the bundle in his arms as he makes his way over to the loveseat. Arthur leans over the back and watches the child’s gray eyes and the fuzz of dark hair. Francis croons nursery songs to the boy (“Frère Jacques, frère Jacques, dormez-vous? Dormez-vous ? ”), and Arthur just watches Louis-Charles’ eyes flutter shut.
“That lullaby sounds familiar,” Arthur murmurs, watching Francis press a small kiss to Louis-Charles’ temple and walking back over to the crib. Francis’ smile flits over his face, enigmatic and lovely.
“It should,” he murmurs, and pulls Louis-Charles’ blankets up around the boy’s chin. Francis turns dark, vibrant blue eyes on Arthur’s face, picks up the candle from the bedside table, and beckons Arthur out the door. “I sang it to you, once upon a time.”
Arthur blinks. “You did?”
“Oui.” Francis turns his face away from Arthur onto the streets
( ... )
Re: Are You Sleeping, Brother John? [3/4]
anonymous
June 18 2009, 16:44:25 UTC
“He is a warm little being,” Francis murmurs into his neck. “He’s never grows uncomfortable to hold, even in the summer sun or on hot nights.” Arthur sighs as Francis presses a wet, open kiss to his pulse
( ... )
Re: Are You Sleeping, Brother John? [4/4]
anonymous
June 18 2009, 17:55:17 UTC
“They say he died of consumption,” Francis murmurs, his voice high and eerie. A bottle slips from his fingers and rolls back and forth on the floor, brown and filled with liquid.
Arthur can’t read the label. He doesn’t want to.
“They - they said he was fine with Monsieur Simon,” he said. “They - they never told anyone of how they made him rut with whores. They never told anyone of the humiliation - the fear - they never told anyone of how he cursed and swore on his parents’ names.”
Francis breaks off and laughs, broken, quiet. Arthur makes his way into the room, slow and careful.
“They never knew of how he died without any human contact, alone in a filthy cell. But I know, dear Arthur. I know. I was the one who brought the dauphin his food, every day.” He rubs his cheek against the blankets; some dried, crusted blood smears on the white. “I was the one who listened to his silence.” He grins, and his teeth glint in the candlelight. “The bastards didn’t think to test his food for poison
( ... )
Re: Are You Sleeping, Brother John? [4/4]
anonymous
June 18 2009, 18:29:31 UTC
Man, you had me in tears for this. Francis breaking down slowly. “I do not have to watch the boy grow up into a power-guzzling, arrogant, pompous bastard who would -” This line really hits the spot.
Re: Are You Sleeping, Brother John? [4/4]
anonymous
June 18 2009, 22:50:59 UTC
I enjoyed it very much. Granted, FrUK and serious!France are both things I tend to enjoy very much, but I like the athmosphere you built here very well - the contrast works like it should, ouch.
Re: Are You Sleeping, Brother John? [4/4]
anonymous
June 19 2009, 13:04:11 UTC
Oh. Ohh... gosh. I remember looking up the royal children after they told us about the Queen's trial in history- it was horrific. To think that a Revolution founded on such beautiful ideals would do such things to children is horrific.
You've portrayed all of it beautifully- between Francis' affection, even as he kills Louis, Arthur's trying to make it better, the links to their old relationship and the overall imagery, this has got to be one of the best Hetalia fics I've ever read.
___
Arthur finally finds the great git in the nursery, of all places.
Then again, he shouldn’t be surprised. He’s Francis. He thinks himself suave, attractive, and smooth. He’s regarded as a country of culture and elegance.
He’s a man fast asleep on the floor of the children’s room, snoring loud and long as he presses his face into a doll’s dress. The candlelight casts thin highlights in his hair and shadows on his face. And Arthur almost thinks he’s beautiful when he realizes that the daft bastard is asleep on the floor of the children’s roomArthur huffs out a sigh and puts a foot in the room, opening his mouth to tell the poncy twit off ( ... )
Reply
England comforts a nearly mentally-cracked, bloodstained France after he commits a murder/assassination of an important figure during the French Revolution.
I'll be happy even if it's just an embrace or kiss..
Reply
Anon here looking forward to more parts!!!
Did you perhaps also wrote some Spain/Romano fics? Such as the one Antonio tango with Lovino, or the other with them running away from a herd of bulls? Plus the one with Gilbert and young Ludwig on candy making? Or Francis' many "I love you"? =D
Reply
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i really liked the title as well, the phrase sounds so much less whimsical in English. well done
Reply
Arthur jumps as the baby whimpers. Francis shushes it, bouncing the bundle in his arms as he makes his way over to the loveseat. Arthur leans over the back and watches the child’s gray eyes and the fuzz of dark hair. Francis croons nursery songs to the boy (“Frère Jacques, frère Jacques, dormez-vous? Dormez-vous ? ”), and Arthur just watches Louis-Charles’ eyes flutter shut.
“That lullaby sounds familiar,” Arthur murmurs, watching Francis press a small kiss to Louis-Charles’ temple and walking back over to the crib. Francis’ smile flits over his face, enigmatic and lovely.
“It should,” he murmurs, and pulls Louis-Charles’ blankets up around the boy’s chin. Francis turns dark, vibrant blue eyes on Arthur’s face, picks up the candle from the bedside table, and beckons Arthur out the door. “I sang it to you, once upon a time.”
Arthur blinks. “You did?”
“Oui.” Francis turns his face away from Arthur onto the streets ( ... )
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“I’ve loved the children of my royal families,” Francis says, “at least until they grow up and begin to rule.
*wibbles*
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I can't wait! Love this <3
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Arthur can’t read the label. He doesn’t want to.
“They - they said he was fine with Monsieur Simon,” he said. “They - they never told anyone of how they made him rut with whores. They never told anyone of the humiliation - the fear - they never told anyone of how he cursed and swore on his parents’ names.”
Francis breaks off and laughs, broken, quiet. Arthur makes his way into the room, slow and careful.
“They never knew of how he died without any human contact, alone in a filthy cell. But I know, dear Arthur. I know. I was the one who brought the dauphin his food, every day.” He rubs his cheek against the blankets; some dried, crusted blood smears on the white. “I was the one who listened to his silence.” He grins, and his teeth glint in the candlelight. “The bastards didn’t think to test his food for poison ( ... )
Reply
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Arthur... Francis... '~'
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This is such a beautiful and terrible thing and OH GOD FRANCIS. *hugs*
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You've portrayed all of it beautifully- between Francis' affection, even as he kills Louis, Arthur's trying to make it better, the links to their old relationship and the overall imagery, this has got to be one of the best Hetalia fics I've ever read.
Reply
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