Third Empire - A Hetalia One-Shot
I used this as an experiment in writing a slightly more serious Hetalia, while still A) trying to maintain the humor and B) Italy's childish voice being introspective at the same time, which I have never tried before. I figured this idea was a good outlet for that. As always, I'm open to constructive criticism, so if you have anything to say I'm
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Mmmm...interesting. It seems that in these little fics roughly the first half is fine, or suffers from minimal errors, while the second part or half is full of them. Interesting, I'll have to think on it.
I love writing funny Hetalia, but I also really like writing serious Hetalia. At some point I want to do something for the Iron Curtain and the division of Germany just after the war. I really want to write a scene where Germany is practically immobilized from his injuries and the pain of the separation...and Italy just crawls into bed with him and holds him. Nothing sexual, but it becomes obvious that's the only way Italy can really express how he's feeling and how much he wants Germany to get better. In my fandom, Italy is a very tactile person. He's better equipped to be emotionally there if he's hugging or touching someone.
I totally channeled Goku for Italy this time around. He's another example of a character which is frequently considered kind of dumb by most fandomites but actually has some moments of simple wisdom. I thought very much of how you manage to write Goku with a childish voice but still make him really rather clever and sensitive.
And THAT little statement just now inspired me to write this little drabble solely for the crack value:
Two blonds sat at the bar. One had dust-covered robes, and he was downing the scotch at an inhuman rate. Such a pace was only brought about by severe and nigh perpetual annoyance. The other blond-the one in the military uniform-had his head pressed against the bar like he wanted to just STAY there until all the problems of the universe worked themselves out.
Behind them, there was the sound of two pairs of boots pounding into the soft wood of the barroom floor and approaching at terminal velocity.
"Pasta!!! Germany! There's PASTA out there! It's long and yummy and it looks like spaghetti!" Pasta...again...it was always pasta.
"Sanzo! Sanzo! There's a guy out there selling MEAT BUNS! Can I get some?! CanICanICanI?!" Fucking Monkey making fucking loud noises. Must. Not. Kill.
Sanzo, already half-drunk, was considering whether he was angry enough to go for the gun...until he noticed the man sitting next to him, who began to bang his head against the bar. The priest puffed out on his cigarette. "You got one too?"
"He doesn't DO anything!" Germany began to growl. "He just eats, sleeps, and surrenders. I can't even get him to exercise." The other man lifted his head off the table and looked at Sanzo like he was some sort of angel who came down from heaven to listen to his problems. "He runs. OH! HE RUNS! He's his fastest when running AWAY! I just..." Germany seemed undeniably frustrated.
"Pasta!" rang from some distant place out in the street. Closely followed by a "meat buns!".
Germany gained a slightly homicidal gleam to his appearance. Sanzo KNEW that look. It was the 'I'm-Really-Gonna-Kill-Him-This-Time' look.
Sanzo sighed. He supposed it was time for his yearly bit of community service. The monk nudged the other man in the shoulder. "Hey, you wanna know how I keep from blowing HIS brains out?" he said, motioning to Goku with his shoulder. He pulled out his harisen and handed one end to the German. "Just give the head a good, hard whack. You'd be amazed how great it feels."
*Snorts* sorry for the long reply. I just couldn't help myself.
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