hetalia oneshots || two AWESOME fics;
two AWESOME fics, all about one AWESOME country.
title: Enemy Heart
characters/pairing: Prussia, Germany; slight Prussia X Germany
rating: PG-13
summary: Prussia and a young Germany talk about war; run circles around enemy minds.
ENEMY HEART
The early evening was filling the room like hot gold dust; there seemed to be a veil of gray though, like that nocturnal warmth didn't touch the barren stillness of the house, the ancient furniture, the silent kitchen. Whatever it was there was a hollow loneliness- alleycat cry whirling through outside as they sat at the table. The conversation was methodical, plodded forward with hidden intentions, every word masked. To Germany it always seemed that Prussia was concealing something, it always seemed like there were knives just beyond his tongue- that if Germany didn't watch quick, there might be some poison in the air.
Prussia talked at his leisure, with that mad quirk in his eyes relaxed, confident in the scenery...you could tell by the slight turning of his mouth, the windy inflection of his words, that he disregarded the enemy mind. He was steadily getting drunk and counting down to some explosion. "So long as there exists the conflict of wills, so long as there's human nature, there isn't gonna be any peace," he was saying with a slight smirk, tracing the rim of his mug, "That's why we have to direct all our efforts toward battle- peacetime is just the stillness before wartime. That's the way the world works...-hey, what the fuck? There's a spot on this mug." He looked curiously at a small waterspot on the mug, then turned expecting eyes to Germany.
"Eh? Those things happen," Germany said, shrugging smally- Prussia smiled secretly at his affected coolness; Germany with limbs at awkward angles, Germany with the heavy seriousness of conscious youth, the gray flower a stigma on his mouth...the kid was growing up and he was growing up in a funny way. Prussia reasoned that it was probably because he was so great. Germany's eyes passed his. "Although, excuse my saying, in peacetime shouldn't all efforts be directed toward preventing war? If only because war expends valuable resources."
"Huh- 'directed toward preventing war?'" Prussia asked, eyes lit, "Gimme an example."
Germany paused- could tell from the outset that it was a trap, by the flushed red and the shadow passing over the bones of Prussia's face. He talked slowly. "Well, this isn't the ideal example, but Austria-"
And that was quite enough; Prussia let out a loud bark of a laugh and slammed his newly empty mug down on Germany's hand, lying on the table without suspicion of attack. Germany recoiled, but he didn't flinch. He held his hand limply, casting blaming eyes hot to Prussia. "Austria! Hah, West, damn, I thought summa my awesome rubbed off on you, but I guess not- Austria! God, West, you oughta be a comedian. Hey now, my glass's empty."
Germany rolled his eyes and reached over for the pitcher of beer, pouring Prussia another glass. Foam and amber warmth- Prussia didn't have much common sense, but Germany was always willing to listen to him when it came to policy and battle. The fractured light of Prussia's mind cracked and bent toward one end, and that was concentrated in the lightning of war. "Anyway, you," Prussia continued, taking a long gulp, "Y'know what that is? That's charity- that's philanthropy- it's nothing but a goddamn fairytale. Marriage and alliances are all good and fine, but you get caught up in compromise. It all sounds nice in your mind but everybody's got a knife behind their backs. The only way to get anything done is to dominate the blood. That is going to be my mark on the world.
"While we're on the subject," Prussia said, posture relaxing as he ran a hand through his hair (like smoke, like steel), "Why do we pursue war, anyway, West?"
Another trap- Prussia's words were a web of elaborate violence waiting to spring, a web of dream colors that ended in a black hole. Germany paused thoughtfully again, tried to recall what he'd read in Prussian books. "Well- because war is an extension of policy-"
Prussia let out a laugh thick with blood and smacked Germany on the back of the head- movements lizard-quick. Germany didn't flinch, but he had to control the instinct to hit back, had to ignore the rising of blood into his throat. "Damn, whassamatter with you today? You're acting all goddamn dumb. Head in the game, brosky, head in the game."
Germany's eyes flattened. He refilled his own glass with movements in glacial time. "Well, then, why is war pursued, brother?" he answered, voice collapsed, head still ringing in a skeleton melody.
Germany took note of the sudden electric pause- he looked up toward Prussia carefully. Prussia grinned; the antique air receded at the sharpness of his shark-white teeth, and the evening air outside seemed to gather in his eyes- gold and trouble, mist and avalanches. "It's 'cause war is the highest expression of policy," he bit, words like sugar storm; then he laughed a little, softly, and relaxed again. "Like I said, it's the only way to get anything done. There are other ways to enforce policy, but war it total. That's why I direct everything to battle- because I'm the strongest. Anything less is for limp-dick artfags like your little boyfriend, Austria."
Germany's mouth straightened; Prussia smirked. "I don't understand why you have to say needless things like that," Germany answered, shaking his head as though to get rid of the remnants of Prussia's ridiculousness.
"Someday," Prussia replied, "You'll be able to comprehend just how awesome I am. For now, though, your little teenage brain would explode if you saw how great I truly was." He sighed and put his legs up on the table; kicked some casual papers to the floor, looking contented. Prussia never really paid attention to his surroundings in everyday life- it came from that easy confidence, that victor's swagger, that idea that he didn't know how to fall- and so he didn't notice that Germany seemed to be turning his words over in his mind, tasting the blood and the blade in them, veiling it over the battles of his memory.
"Although," Germany said, voice methodical and cracking a bit- Prussia's eyes looked back curiously to him; "I don't think that battle and blood are the best ways to enforce policy. There are other ways that cost less- less flesh and less money, I suppose...Maybe war is the highest expression of the state, but that doesn't mean there has to be fighting."
Prussia tried to gauge where his words were going, but Germany just took a sip of his beer- eyes seemed timed, eyes seemed like they were waiting for something. Usually Prussia would say something like, "Oh, this again?" or "Nah, you just don't know the world like I do." But there was something in Germany's words that was interesting. It wasn't confidence, it was more quiet and understanding- like he was saying the words after seeing a windy flash of truth. Prussia leaned forward. "Ah, yeah? How's that?" he asked, eyebrows raised, mouth on the edge of a smile.
It was hard to tell whether or not Germany was proud of his new thought- maybe he wasn't, because he seemed hesitant. He pushed his empty glass aside. "You can destroy the enemy on the inside before you even touch him," he said, and the words fell off like ice.
Prussia turned his head a little. Here was Germany, sitting solemnly- just this boy he'd picked up with quiet eyes like blue and clouds, with a mind like steel and smoke. He reached over and held Germany b y the chin, moved his head slightly to the side, thumb tracing his jaw- like he was examining a dog, maybe, checking for signs of malice or bad breeding. Prussia's breathing was something dangerous but there was no fear in Germany's eyes. He didn't really even look back, he just seemed to go along with whatever Prussia was doing. "Huh," Prussia remarked steadily, with an invasive smirk, with hidden eyes, "Well, this is new."
Germany turned his head back and their eyes met- in knowledge, in confidence, in constant glamour stars and earthy toil. Prussia removed his hand and got up from his place with a sharp "Tch!" that seemed both proud and newly defensive. "Huh, so maybe you ain't so stupid," he said, and shrugged with a windy casual movement, began to walk out of the kitchen- off to more strange plotting and hot blood. He gave Germany another glance as he went out. "So here's a point to think on for tomorrow- 'a language is a dialect with an army and a navy.'"
Germany looked up at Prussia as he cleared the plates- Prussia standing proud in the doorframe. Prussia wondered whether he'd have to start watching his back with this kid around- but there was a simplicity in the way Germany moved that told him he'd never have to worry about him. "Alright. 'Night, brother," Germany said, with a nod.
Evening was gold and fire- red and blue met like electricity over wires, and the science of blood progressed considerably that night.
title: Bullet Eyes
pairing: Canada X Prussia
rating: PG
summary: Prussia comes to Canada's house demanding maple syrup; Canada is tongue-tied as he tries to read Prussia's illegible eyes.
BULLET EYES
Canada was walking 'round the house- rooms filled with sunlight spilling over like pale honey, air stilled and quiet. He was probably thinking over something like why everyone was always ignoring him, or how America got Nantucket to stick up just so, when (as he turned a corner) he heard a barking laugh like a gunshot and a loud, "HEY, what's up, Canada!"
Canada jumped back with a startled sound gurgling up from his throat, and Kumajiro started on his usual "Who is he talking to? I see no one here" bit. Prussia was standing before him, dangerously within his personal space, eyes lit...the bird on his head was watching them peacefully. "O-oh, Prussia," Canada laughed nervously. "You scared me..."
"HAH, it's because I'm so great," Prussia said. Then he stepped back, and pointed an accusatory flinger at Canada (the bird pointed similarly with its wing, though its expression remained stone blank). "Anyway, YOU! I've come for my maple syrup!"
"...Your maple syrup?" Canada questioned, like it was a far-off memory.
"Hey now, what's this?- are you trying to say that you don't have maple syrup for me? That's just damn ridiculous- West made pancakes and we ran out," Prussia continued, and off into annals and curtains, excited jabbering- but the words flew past Canada's ears, and he couldn't make out logical forms past the traffic electricity of Prussia's glittering eyes...Prussia had a wolfish hunger in his body and in the bones of his face, but there was something about his face that was alive- supermassive black hold of his wartime mind, the flashes of crazy that radiated electric.
Maybe Canada thought him beautiful, in some weird way, and that wasn't an exercise in hyperbole, wasn't some alien standard pushed to fit illegible feelings- that thought just struck Canada as he watched Prussia prattle on about syrup and awesomeness. Gunpowder hair, messy and military short; hands marked and callous and one long scar like a mission brand across his neck- candystriped, as it were...His eyes seemed by turns to lie and laugh and he had Clausewitz in the flash of his teeth- there was something altogether strong and purposeful to him, even though he was rude and a little crazy, and maybe that was what Canada liked about him-
"Hey, whatchyou looking at me like that for?" Prussia asked, raising an eyebrow with suspicion.
Canada paused- words stumbled over each other and he grasped for something intelligible to say. If he said what was on his mind he'd look like a total creep and he didn't want Prussia to think he was creepy, that would just be horrible, and he didn't want to say nothing because he was too used to that...he coughed and pushed his glasses up a little...
"Oh, I get it," Prussia finally said, tilting his head back in triumph, "You're just taking in how awesome I am."
The bird on his head seemed to roll its eyes; it flew away (to where was questionable), and Canada paused to ruminate on his luck. "Sure," he answered with a mild shrug.
"'Sure'!? I like 'positive' better," Prussia said with a lopsided smile.
Canada managed a casual laugh, something was behind his eyes that Prussia noticed, but he didn't think too hard about it. "Well, anyway," he said, looking away from Prussia and starting off on some sunny highway, "I'll get your syrup if you want."
"Hell yes," Prussia replied, and off they started toward the windy kitchen.
NOTES;;
1] Got the idea for Enemy Heart by reading B.H. Liddell Hart's Strategy: "In [Rauschning's] Hitler Says, [Hitler] declared- 'How to achieve the moral breakdown of the enemy before the war has started- that is the problem that interests me. Whoever has experienced war at the front will want to refrain from all avoidable bloodshed.' In concentrating on that problem Hitler diverged from the orthodox trend of German military thought which, for a century, had concentrated on battle- and had led most of the other nations along the same narrow path of military theory. Accepting the Prussian philosopher of war, Clausewitz, as their master, they blindly swallowed his undigested aphorisms." (I think Clausewitz is pretty cool though, but that's just me.)
2] Prussia is so awesome.
Next, I'm working on another mini fic collection, a fic about WWII told through different vignettes involving all the nations, and...a crackfic that will probably suck me into its own black hole. Been nice knowing you all~!
Thanks for reading! ;D
title: Enemy Heart
characters/pairing: Prussia, Germany; slight Prussia X Germany
rating: PG-13
summary: Prussia and a young Germany talk about war; run circles around enemy minds.
ENEMY HEART
The early evening was filling the room like hot gold dust; there seemed to be a veil of gray though, like that nocturnal warmth didn't touch the barren stillness of the house, the ancient furniture, the silent kitchen. Whatever it was there was a hollow loneliness- alleycat cry whirling through outside as they sat at the table. The conversation was methodical, plodded forward with hidden intentions, every word masked. To Germany it always seemed that Prussia was concealing something, it always seemed like there were knives just beyond his tongue- that if Germany didn't watch quick, there might be some poison in the air.
Prussia talked at his leisure, with that mad quirk in his eyes relaxed, confident in the scenery...you could tell by the slight turning of his mouth, the windy inflection of his words, that he disregarded the enemy mind. He was steadily getting drunk and counting down to some explosion. "So long as there exists the conflict of wills, so long as there's human nature, there isn't gonna be any peace," he was saying with a slight smirk, tracing the rim of his mug, "That's why we have to direct all our efforts toward battle- peacetime is just the stillness before wartime. That's the way the world works...-hey, what the fuck? There's a spot on this mug." He looked curiously at a small waterspot on the mug, then turned expecting eyes to Germany.
"Eh? Those things happen," Germany said, shrugging smally- Prussia smiled secretly at his affected coolness; Germany with limbs at awkward angles, Germany with the heavy seriousness of conscious youth, the gray flower a stigma on his mouth...the kid was growing up and he was growing up in a funny way. Prussia reasoned that it was probably because he was so great. Germany's eyes passed his. "Although, excuse my saying, in peacetime shouldn't all efforts be directed toward preventing war? If only because war expends valuable resources."
"Huh- 'directed toward preventing war?'" Prussia asked, eyes lit, "Gimme an example."
Germany paused- could tell from the outset that it was a trap, by the flushed red and the shadow passing over the bones of Prussia's face. He talked slowly. "Well, this isn't the ideal example, but Austria-"
And that was quite enough; Prussia let out a loud bark of a laugh and slammed his newly empty mug down on Germany's hand, lying on the table without suspicion of attack. Germany recoiled, but he didn't flinch. He held his hand limply, casting blaming eyes hot to Prussia. "Austria! Hah, West, damn, I thought summa my awesome rubbed off on you, but I guess not- Austria! God, West, you oughta be a comedian. Hey now, my glass's empty."
Germany rolled his eyes and reached over for the pitcher of beer, pouring Prussia another glass. Foam and amber warmth- Prussia didn't have much common sense, but Germany was always willing to listen to him when it came to policy and battle. The fractured light of Prussia's mind cracked and bent toward one end, and that was concentrated in the lightning of war. "Anyway, you," Prussia continued, taking a long gulp, "Y'know what that is? That's charity- that's philanthropy- it's nothing but a goddamn fairytale. Marriage and alliances are all good and fine, but you get caught up in compromise. It all sounds nice in your mind but everybody's got a knife behind their backs. The only way to get anything done is to dominate the blood. That is going to be my mark on the world.
"While we're on the subject," Prussia said, posture relaxing as he ran a hand through his hair (like smoke, like steel), "Why do we pursue war, anyway, West?"
Another trap- Prussia's words were a web of elaborate violence waiting to spring, a web of dream colors that ended in a black hole. Germany paused thoughtfully again, tried to recall what he'd read in Prussian books. "Well- because war is an extension of policy-"
Prussia let out a laugh thick with blood and smacked Germany on the back of the head- movements lizard-quick. Germany didn't flinch, but he had to control the instinct to hit back, had to ignore the rising of blood into his throat. "Damn, whassamatter with you today? You're acting all goddamn dumb. Head in the game, brosky, head in the game."
Germany's eyes flattened. He refilled his own glass with movements in glacial time. "Well, then, why is war pursued, brother?" he answered, voice collapsed, head still ringing in a skeleton melody.
Germany took note of the sudden electric pause- he looked up toward Prussia carefully. Prussia grinned; the antique air receded at the sharpness of his shark-white teeth, and the evening air outside seemed to gather in his eyes- gold and trouble, mist and avalanches. "It's 'cause war is the highest expression of policy," he bit, words like sugar storm; then he laughed a little, softly, and relaxed again. "Like I said, it's the only way to get anything done. There are other ways to enforce policy, but war it total. That's why I direct everything to battle- because I'm the strongest. Anything less is for limp-dick artfags like your little boyfriend, Austria."
Germany's mouth straightened; Prussia smirked. "I don't understand why you have to say needless things like that," Germany answered, shaking his head as though to get rid of the remnants of Prussia's ridiculousness.
"Someday," Prussia replied, "You'll be able to comprehend just how awesome I am. For now, though, your little teenage brain would explode if you saw how great I truly was." He sighed and put his legs up on the table; kicked some casual papers to the floor, looking contented. Prussia never really paid attention to his surroundings in everyday life- it came from that easy confidence, that victor's swagger, that idea that he didn't know how to fall- and so he didn't notice that Germany seemed to be turning his words over in his mind, tasting the blood and the blade in them, veiling it over the battles of his memory.
"Although," Germany said, voice methodical and cracking a bit- Prussia's eyes looked back curiously to him; "I don't think that battle and blood are the best ways to enforce policy. There are other ways that cost less- less flesh and less money, I suppose...Maybe war is the highest expression of the state, but that doesn't mean there has to be fighting."
Prussia tried to gauge where his words were going, but Germany just took a sip of his beer- eyes seemed timed, eyes seemed like they were waiting for something. Usually Prussia would say something like, "Oh, this again?" or "Nah, you just don't know the world like I do." But there was something in Germany's words that was interesting. It wasn't confidence, it was more quiet and understanding- like he was saying the words after seeing a windy flash of truth. Prussia leaned forward. "Ah, yeah? How's that?" he asked, eyebrows raised, mouth on the edge of a smile.
It was hard to tell whether or not Germany was proud of his new thought- maybe he wasn't, because he seemed hesitant. He pushed his empty glass aside. "You can destroy the enemy on the inside before you even touch him," he said, and the words fell off like ice.
Prussia turned his head a little. Here was Germany, sitting solemnly- just this boy he'd picked up with quiet eyes like blue and clouds, with a mind like steel and smoke. He reached over and held Germany b y the chin, moved his head slightly to the side, thumb tracing his jaw- like he was examining a dog, maybe, checking for signs of malice or bad breeding. Prussia's breathing was something dangerous but there was no fear in Germany's eyes. He didn't really even look back, he just seemed to go along with whatever Prussia was doing. "Huh," Prussia remarked steadily, with an invasive smirk, with hidden eyes, "Well, this is new."
Germany turned his head back and their eyes met- in knowledge, in confidence, in constant glamour stars and earthy toil. Prussia removed his hand and got up from his place with a sharp "Tch!" that seemed both proud and newly defensive. "Huh, so maybe you ain't so stupid," he said, and shrugged with a windy casual movement, began to walk out of the kitchen- off to more strange plotting and hot blood. He gave Germany another glance as he went out. "So here's a point to think on for tomorrow- 'a language is a dialect with an army and a navy.'"
Germany looked up at Prussia as he cleared the plates- Prussia standing proud in the doorframe. Prussia wondered whether he'd have to start watching his back with this kid around- but there was a simplicity in the way Germany moved that told him he'd never have to worry about him. "Alright. 'Night, brother," Germany said, with a nod.
Evening was gold and fire- red and blue met like electricity over wires, and the science of blood progressed considerably that night.
title: Bullet Eyes
pairing: Canada X Prussia
rating: PG
summary: Prussia comes to Canada's house demanding maple syrup; Canada is tongue-tied as he tries to read Prussia's illegible eyes.
BULLET EYES
Canada was walking 'round the house- rooms filled with sunlight spilling over like pale honey, air stilled and quiet. He was probably thinking over something like why everyone was always ignoring him, or how America got Nantucket to stick up just so, when (as he turned a corner) he heard a barking laugh like a gunshot and a loud, "HEY, what's up, Canada!"
Canada jumped back with a startled sound gurgling up from his throat, and Kumajiro started on his usual "Who is he talking to? I see no one here" bit. Prussia was standing before him, dangerously within his personal space, eyes lit...the bird on his head was watching them peacefully. "O-oh, Prussia," Canada laughed nervously. "You scared me..."
"HAH, it's because I'm so great," Prussia said. Then he stepped back, and pointed an accusatory flinger at Canada (the bird pointed similarly with its wing, though its expression remained stone blank). "Anyway, YOU! I've come for my maple syrup!"
"...Your maple syrup?" Canada questioned, like it was a far-off memory.
"Hey now, what's this?- are you trying to say that you don't have maple syrup for me? That's just damn ridiculous- West made pancakes and we ran out," Prussia continued, and off into annals and curtains, excited jabbering- but the words flew past Canada's ears, and he couldn't make out logical forms past the traffic electricity of Prussia's glittering eyes...Prussia had a wolfish hunger in his body and in the bones of his face, but there was something about his face that was alive- supermassive black hold of his wartime mind, the flashes of crazy that radiated electric.
Maybe Canada thought him beautiful, in some weird way, and that wasn't an exercise in hyperbole, wasn't some alien standard pushed to fit illegible feelings- that thought just struck Canada as he watched Prussia prattle on about syrup and awesomeness. Gunpowder hair, messy and military short; hands marked and callous and one long scar like a mission brand across his neck- candystriped, as it were...His eyes seemed by turns to lie and laugh and he had Clausewitz in the flash of his teeth- there was something altogether strong and purposeful to him, even though he was rude and a little crazy, and maybe that was what Canada liked about him-
"Hey, whatchyou looking at me like that for?" Prussia asked, raising an eyebrow with suspicion.
Canada paused- words stumbled over each other and he grasped for something intelligible to say. If he said what was on his mind he'd look like a total creep and he didn't want Prussia to think he was creepy, that would just be horrible, and he didn't want to say nothing because he was too used to that...he coughed and pushed his glasses up a little...
"Oh, I get it," Prussia finally said, tilting his head back in triumph, "You're just taking in how awesome I am."
The bird on his head seemed to roll its eyes; it flew away (to where was questionable), and Canada paused to ruminate on his luck. "Sure," he answered with a mild shrug.
"'Sure'!? I like 'positive' better," Prussia said with a lopsided smile.
Canada managed a casual laugh, something was behind his eyes that Prussia noticed, but he didn't think too hard about it. "Well, anyway," he said, looking away from Prussia and starting off on some sunny highway, "I'll get your syrup if you want."
"Hell yes," Prussia replied, and off they started toward the windy kitchen.
NOTES;;
1] Got the idea for Enemy Heart by reading B.H. Liddell Hart's Strategy: "In [Rauschning's] Hitler Says, [Hitler] declared- 'How to achieve the moral breakdown of the enemy before the war has started- that is the problem that interests me. Whoever has experienced war at the front will want to refrain from all avoidable bloodshed.' In concentrating on that problem Hitler diverged from the orthodox trend of German military thought which, for a century, had concentrated on battle- and had led most of the other nations along the same narrow path of military theory. Accepting the Prussian philosopher of war, Clausewitz, as their master, they blindly swallowed his undigested aphorisms." (I think Clausewitz is pretty cool though, but that's just me.)
2] Prussia is so awesome.
Next, I'm working on another mini fic collection, a fic about WWII told through different vignettes involving all the nations, and...a crackfic that will probably suck me into its own black hole. Been nice knowing you all~!
Thanks for reading! ;D