Blinded (1a/?)
anonymous
November 25 2009, 18:10:33 UTC
I strayed a bit from your prompt, OP. I hope it's still okay!
His breath rattles in his chest. He can feel it there, can smell the chemicals and feel the burning in his lungs as they shudder. But he can’t hear the coughs, can’t see the asphalt under his hands as loose pebble dig into his back.
America had been walking back from a meeting with Iraq and a few other nations, who were still furious with him. He’d stormed out. No one was listening to him, no one saw that he was trying his damndest and no one gave a flying fuck about anything other than his failures. He’d gone down a sidestreet, heading for a hotel, when he had seen something out of the corner of his eye. He’d turned toward it, but then
( ... )
Re: Blinded Epilogue
anonymous
November 30 2009, 00:58:07 UTC
OH GOSH ANON!!! Just a wonderful excersise in romance without words. God this was the perfect mix of emotional, funny, and sensual. America is brilliantly portrayed in character and gesture, and .. damnit I'm just so happy this was England/America. great fic, anon!
Re: Blinded Epilogue
anonymous
March 28 2010, 05:12:59 UTC
Do I fail for not figuring out it was England? XD I shouldn't eat while stalking this meme. I just managed to spill milk all down my front, and will never be able to eat cinammon toast crunch without thinking of this. *facepalm*
So, moving past my fail to your win: When Al said to either shoot him already or let him up, I distinctly remember thinking 'Oh please, don't let that be Matthew' Keeping in mind that I didn't look at the request and therefore had NO IDEA who it was. because that would have been AWFUL. The part where Al wanted Arthur to just shoot him and 'let him rest' killed my soul COMPLETELY. It like, floated away into the distance. D: I'm a terrible aweful person for loving that so so so much. I'm also terrible for loving the whole 'like when they were colonies' moment.
I makes me LIFE how Al figured out who it was because Arthur got pissy about his grammar. *lol'ing forever*
His breath rattles in his chest. He can feel it there, can smell the chemicals and feel the burning in his lungs as they shudder. But he can’t hear the coughs, can’t see the asphalt under his hands as loose pebble dig into his back.
America had been walking back from a meeting with Iraq and a few other nations, who were still furious with him. He’d stormed out. No one was listening to him, no one saw that he was trying his damndest and no one gave a flying fuck about anything other than his failures. He’d gone down a sidestreet, heading for a hotel, when he had seen something out of the corner of his eye. He’d turned toward it, but then ( ... )
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This was really sweet. Great work.
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So, moving past my fail to your win:
When Al said to either shoot him already or let him up, I distinctly remember thinking 'Oh please, don't let that be Matthew' Keeping in mind that I didn't look at the request and therefore had NO IDEA who it was. because that would have been AWFUL. The part where Al wanted Arthur to just shoot him and 'let him rest' killed my soul COMPLETELY. It like, floated away into the distance. D: I'm a terrible aweful person for loving that so so so much. I'm also terrible for loving the whole 'like when they were colonies' moment.
I makes me LIFE how Al figured out who it was because Arthur got pissy about his grammar. *lol'ing forever*
What the bloody hell is a 'herodias'?
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