[Axis Powers Hetalia, Random Drabbles]
Prompt: Lips
Pairing: Belarus/Ukraine
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Romance
Word Count: 274
Written For: ahiru_duck
Warnings: Incest
If she focused just there, below the too-small nose and above the ample chest, Belarus could pretend these lips belonged to another fair-haired person.
At least that's what she told herself, slightly tipsy as it was, as she slowly peeled off her gloves and trailed a now-bare finger across the pale cheek.
"B-Belarus..." Ukraine stammered.
She slammed the other country against the wall behind her, her breasts bouncing at the movement. Belarus had hoped to keep up the charade in her mind, pretending that this was her dearest brother rather than her sister that she was now kissing fervently, but there were so many things off. Off in all the right ways.
Slipping another glove off and letting it drop to the ground, she absently toyed with the belt running across the front of Ukraine's uniform. She gasped when Belarus started to nimbly undo the buttons.
"What are you..."
"I need myself to know." She began, pushing the stiff uniform fabric aside and slipping a hand under Ukraine's shirt. Ukraine's face flushed as Belarus cupped her breast. "That this isn't someone else."
With that, Ukraine understood immediately where her intoxicated sister was coming from. And although she wasn't too sure about it, she couldn't deny that the firm hand massaging her breast wasn't pleasant.
Nipping the corner of Belarus's lip lightly, she murmured. "Just go easy on me. I'm not as into the tough-love as you are, sister."
"If that's what you want." Belarus grinned as she slid off her own coat and captured Ukraine's lips again. If she couldn't have her brother, then her lovely sister was a more than ample consolation prize.
---------------------------------
Prompt: Light
Pairing: France -->Jeanne d'arc
Rating: G
Genre: Romance/Friendship
Word Count: 366
Written For: ahiru_duck
Sometimes he thought he was just being a romantic - well, he was a romantic - but as often as he'd asked various women and men if they happened to be angels, none of them seemed to radiate a heavenly glow the way she did.
Jeanne was different than all of them; a peasant girl in armor, covered in grime and blood, that always seemed to have a halo flickering around her head.
France often wondered if he was the only one who could see it, her inner light and beauty shimmering through. And this was why he figured it was her, and only her, that managed to turn him into a stammering undignified mess.
"J-Jeanne?" He queried, approaching her that night at camp.
She looked up at him, eyes glowing with the reflection of the campfire- or perhaps, she just always glowed?
"Yes, my country?"
France smiled softly. "Ah, there is no need for formalities from you, my dear."
Jeanne stood to meet him, bowing her head slightly. "Then, France, what is it you ask of me?"
He fidgeted for a moment with the white rose he held deftly in his fingers; finally he reached forward and tucked it behind her ear.
"I ask nothing," he said, trailing an uncharacteristically shaky hand down her cheek. "Your radiance is enough for me."
And unlike all the others who had fallen to his charms, she didn't blush or seem at all phased by his compliment. With a demure smile she nodded. "Thank you. I only wish I could do more."
France hesitated a moment before reaching out and taking her hand. He bent to kiss it. "My lady, you have already done more than enough; more than I could have ever asked for. But, for now, I only ask that you sleep well and dream of better times."
He left her then; not noticing the fond smile that graced her lips as he walked away or the way she took the flower from her hair and cradled it in her hands. And as she spoke, France heard nothing but the whispers of the wind.
"My country and friend, my dearest France, for you- I would do anything."
Pairing: Belarus/Ukraine
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Romance
Word Count: 274
Written For: ahiru_duck
Warnings: Incest
If she focused just there, below the too-small nose and above the ample chest, Belarus could pretend these lips belonged to another fair-haired person.
At least that's what she told herself, slightly tipsy as it was, as she slowly peeled off her gloves and trailed a now-bare finger across the pale cheek.
"B-Belarus..." Ukraine stammered.
She slammed the other country against the wall behind her, her breasts bouncing at the movement. Belarus had hoped to keep up the charade in her mind, pretending that this was her dearest brother rather than her sister that she was now kissing fervently, but there were so many things off. Off in all the right ways.
Slipping another glove off and letting it drop to the ground, she absently toyed with the belt running across the front of Ukraine's uniform. She gasped when Belarus started to nimbly undo the buttons.
"What are you..."
"I need myself to know." She began, pushing the stiff uniform fabric aside and slipping a hand under Ukraine's shirt. Ukraine's face flushed as Belarus cupped her breast. "That this isn't someone else."
With that, Ukraine understood immediately where her intoxicated sister was coming from. And although she wasn't too sure about it, she couldn't deny that the firm hand massaging her breast wasn't pleasant.
Nipping the corner of Belarus's lip lightly, she murmured. "Just go easy on me. I'm not as into the tough-love as you are, sister."
"If that's what you want." Belarus grinned as she slid off her own coat and captured Ukraine's lips again. If she couldn't have her brother, then her lovely sister was a more than ample consolation prize.
---------------------------------
Prompt: Light
Pairing: France -->Jeanne d'arc
Rating: G
Genre: Romance/Friendship
Word Count: 366
Written For: ahiru_duck
Sometimes he thought he was just being a romantic - well, he was a romantic - but as often as he'd asked various women and men if they happened to be angels, none of them seemed to radiate a heavenly glow the way she did.
Jeanne was different than all of them; a peasant girl in armor, covered in grime and blood, that always seemed to have a halo flickering around her head.
France often wondered if he was the only one who could see it, her inner light and beauty shimmering through. And this was why he figured it was her, and only her, that managed to turn him into a stammering undignified mess.
"J-Jeanne?" He queried, approaching her that night at camp.
She looked up at him, eyes glowing with the reflection of the campfire- or perhaps, she just always glowed?
"Yes, my country?"
France smiled softly. "Ah, there is no need for formalities from you, my dear."
Jeanne stood to meet him, bowing her head slightly. "Then, France, what is it you ask of me?"
He fidgeted for a moment with the white rose he held deftly in his fingers; finally he reached forward and tucked it behind her ear.
"I ask nothing," he said, trailing an uncharacteristically shaky hand down her cheek. "Your radiance is enough for me."
And unlike all the others who had fallen to his charms, she didn't blush or seem at all phased by his compliment. With a demure smile she nodded. "Thank you. I only wish I could do more."
France hesitated a moment before reaching out and taking her hand. He bent to kiss it. "My lady, you have already done more than enough; more than I could have ever asked for. But, for now, I only ask that you sleep well and dream of better times."
He left her then; not noticing the fond smile that graced her lips as he walked away or the way she took the flower from her hair and cradled it in her hands. And as she spoke, France heard nothing but the whispers of the wind.
"My country and friend, my dearest France, for you- I would do anything."