[fanfic] plot bunnies

[sainatsukino.livejournal.com]

ok, So I should be packing my stuff. Really. So, to get my mind away from the next chapter of missing memories, I started listening to music... and guess what? I ended up writing a fic. I have no self control. Anyway, I blame it all on Felix Gray.

Title: Soldier's blood
Character/pairing: America, mention of UK, a little bit USUK I guess?
Summary: America's thoughts during independance war
Type: songfic, angst?
A/N: the song was actually in french so I had to translate it. Anyone who guess what it is (and, most importantly, where it is from) gets cookies. Forgive the bad translation.

When I want to break my chains

And tear apart my soldier’s clothes

Under the cold winds of a dismal plain

How many of us are dead already?

 

America hated it so much. This war. He wanted independence, he needed it; but did it have to happen like this? Did he have to… fight… his precious England? Fights after fights, victory after defeats, and yet none of it seemed to matter.

 

When all our songs

Are but prayers

And our games are fights

When with our lives we sow the earth

Who knows what will grow there?

 

It felt like every step towards his goal was a step towards losing his brother, and it sickened him. But what else could he do? His people needed this. He needed this.

 

And if the war, that horrible war was the price he had to pay, then what could he do but to pay it? He could only hope that in the end, it would be worth it…

 

I’m not writing a love letter

I’m not writings my words on velvet

It’s soldiers’ blood

The ink that you will read

 

One day he hoped England would understand. He would become bigger, a strong and respected country, and he’d have no choice but to be proud of him. He wouldn’t consider him granted anymore, he’d see him as an equal. That was all America had ever wanted: for England to finally look at him, to finally see him.

 

I’m not writing how much I still love you

And all my sobs at night

When I fall asleep

It’s tears of mine

The ink that you will read

 

One day he’d explain to him, how it had hurt him too. How every night he wondered if it really was worth it. One day he’d show England that he never hated him, that he actually did this to be closer to him… He’d understand, right?

 

When I want to screw it all up

To run away towards you

I remember the cries of my brothers

How many of them are dead already?

 

When they met on the battlefield, once too many times, and Arthur looked at him with hatred and despair and something else entirely, those times were the hardest. Oh, how he wanted to just throw his gun away, run to him and make this all a bad memory! But he couldn’t. His people were fighting for it, dying for it. They had been taxed, taken for granted, forsaken. They would now be free, and it would never happen again.

 

America would make sure that his people are happy, even if he had to sacrifice his very own happiness for it.

 

I’m not writing a love letter

I’m not writings my words on velvet

It’s soldiers’ blood

The ink that you will read

 

Yes, one day he would explain England. And even if it took two hundred years, he’d make peace with him.

 

I’m not writing how much I still love you

And all my sobs at night

When I fall asleep

It’s tears of mine

The ink that you will read

 

Because even if his people were happy, he could never be without his precious person.

 

Tonight, I try another prayer

Not kneeling but lying on the ground

I don’t know why

I’m so cold

There a stain on my shirt I think

 

But for now he had to go out again, face Arthur again. It was a cold, raining day, fitting his mood. Someone had said it might be the last battle, and then they’d have won. He gripped his gun tighter. The last battle. He was… so scared it might really be the last.

 

I’m not writing a love letter

I’m not writings my words on velvet

It’s soldiers’ blood

The ink that you will read

I’m not writing how much I still love you

And all my sobs at night

When I fall asleep

It’s tears of mine

The ink that you will read

 

That day England kneeled before him, acknowledged him as a country, and he cried in his heart. Things would never be the same again.

 

I’m not writing a love letter

I’m not writings my words on velvet

It’s soldiers’ blood

The ink that you will read

I’m not writing how much I still love you

And all my sobs at night

When I fall asleep

It’s tears of mine

The ink that you will read

 

As he gripped the declaration of independence in his hands later, and read those words of blood and tears, he knew that whatever the losses it would be worth it. He would make sure. And he swore that even if England hated him now, that he’d never have rest until things between them got fixed.

 

Even if he had to spend centuries on it.

 

The ink that you will read

now, plz help me get my mind away or I'll end up writing other songfics with Felix Gray songs... The bunnies are too strong...