63 → No Mercy For She (Belarus) & Training Wheels (America/Belarus)
Title: No Mercy For She
Series: Axis Powers Hetalia
Character/Pairing: Belarus-centric. Mentions of Germany and Russia - set during WWII.
Rating: PG-13, I suppose. Slightly heavy subject matter.
Note: Yet again, weird at my helm. I've been studying Belarusian history like a madwoman lately, namely what happened during WWII. Forgive me if this is rather... crap, though. I'm not the best of scholars. Or writer for that matter.
Byelorussia had long grown used to the pounding on her doors when people wanted her Brother. They always wanted him - wanted to control the might that he commanded. It had been like that when she was little and it would always be like that. It was just what it was, and just as it would be.
But she always thought that she would have protection from some of that fear.
When the war started, she thought it would be cold when they came. It always seemed to be cold when they did - either by luck or just by the long standing pact with General Winter. But, it was not cold when Germany came. And it startled her.
It had not been long since he had last came, not long since the wounds on her body had finally scabbed over from the last time. Still, it was a startling sight to see him again so soon, with a new glint in his eyes, and a new terror at his helm. She had not welcomed him with such open arms as the others around her did - there were not flowers at his feet or kisses on his cheeks for him at her door. But, those would not have lessened his force, she knew.
She did not run. She fought, and she knew Brother was fighting too. But, she knew her defeat would be swift, she knew his terror would hold her for what would feel like eternity. She knew even General Winter and her Brother - her dear, bitter Brother - would not push Germany from her lands as quick as they would have hoped.
So, she felt him grip his hands into her hair and pull. She felt him tear into her flesh with knives and guns and tanks and bombs and other things she wanted to forget. She felt him stab into the heart of her people. She felt the tattoos and serial numbers begin grace her skin, and the stars start to mark above her heart.
But, she did not scream. She did not break.
He snapped her bones in two and took her land and destroyed her people. But she did not scream. And she did not break. She fought and she felt her people fight, even as she felt them die.
So, with each cut he tore in her flesh and each scream he filled her ears with, she did not give him the pleasure of watching her writhe and cry out. She had suffered much over the years - and her heart silently knew she would always somehow suffer - so the pain he inflicted she knew would heal. And even if she was useless and startled and in pain for many years to come, she would not let him know that.
She would not let him see the fear that gripped her heart during the night as he banged on doors and destroyed her cities. She would not let him see the cringe of agony in her heart and her body as her people cried out in terror and died. She would not let him know that she could not fight him as well as she wanted.
Her Brother would come, and this war would end.
And even with no mercy allowed to her, she would not let Germany see the tears as her Brother's smothering arms returned to hold her into place. Broken pieces and all.
Wars always ended, and the winters would hide her scars.
NOTES Belarus wasn't named Belarus until after her independence in 1991. I went with Byelorussia instead, which seemed to be one of the more common spellings of her previous name.
Also, during WWII, Belarus lost almost a third of her population as the Nazis invaded. They occupied her until 1944, and destroyed almost all of her cities and industry. It certainly did not go well, obviously.
And, all in all, her history is rather sad. :[
Title: Training Wheels
Series: Axis Powers Hetalia
Character/Pairing: America/Belarus. Kinda.
Rating: PG
Note: Oh my goodness, this is crap. /dies Not sure why I'm posting this, but wtfever. I have a hard-on for America's hero complex about her, that's why. /hit
She was a puzzle. She was older than him - much older, he thought - although she was young like him, too. While he was brash and reckless (and thought most of the world was), she was quiet and unassuming and terrifying all at once. (For such a passive girl, she sure could swing a knife around.)
But, for all her quiet strength and world weariness, she was... off. She seemed unsettled, he realized. Something about the way her head would tilt, and her eyes looked like she was still so unsure in her footing. It was different than her Brother's displacement - his was much more a part of him than he would admit - but still, he couldn't help but see the continued similarity.
He didn't know much about her, nor did he claim to - honestly, he made it a bit of a point not to know too much of the old inner workings of others, unless he had to - but what he did know was so different from what he was used to. For him, his voice had always been such a source of power and strength for him. But, she had never really had that, he realized. She was always something below another, a country that did not have a strong enough voice to break through too often, other than what she clung to. So, that unsettled walk of hers could easily be explained by the fact that walking on her own was new to her.
Not that he could relate, though.
But, it was also that rattling in her head that could explain that unsure footing. One moment, she was declaring her independence, the next she was fleeing back to her unwilling brother. And her boss - oh god, her boss - wasn't making it any better. Not to mention the unethical things she had been doing lately.
In fact, it was her underhanded sales that had made him notice her. And he had been pissed. There he was, trying to be the hero and save the world from other crazy bosses, and he had ignored hers! And she didn't care! He had been in such a huff, and she had been as cool and as calm as always. She didn't even flinch when he told her he'd make sure she was set right - in fact, all she did was glare.
It was only when he saw her house and that unsettled walk of hers that he felt his heart stir. And suddenly, the hero complex thing was useful. He was going to save her! If she was hurt, he'd help! If she was unsure, he'd help her decide! If she was going to go down that dark road, he'd stop her, stop her and make her realize just how wonderful his way of seeing the world was! And then she'd be happy and stop needing to rely on others around her and walk an unsteady and unsure walk, right?
Needless to say, it didn't exactly go as he imagined.
She was angry, her boss was angry, and she didn't even want look at him. She didn't want to look at anyone, anyone but her Brother (and her Sister sometimes), and try to keep her unsure little world just as it was.
So, he'd fling his bosses' papers at her, smile that unyielding smile, and hold her hand even as she glared and snapped. Because, even if he could hold that hand for just a little while, maybe that little walk of hers would straighten, and she could find her own way, just for once. After all, that's what heroes should do.
Series: Axis Powers Hetalia
Character/Pairing: Belarus-centric. Mentions of Germany and Russia - set during WWII.
Rating: PG-13, I suppose. Slightly heavy subject matter.
Note: Yet again, weird at my helm. I've been studying Belarusian history like a madwoman lately, namely what happened during WWII. Forgive me if this is rather... crap, though. I'm not the best of scholars. Or writer for that matter.
Byelorussia had long grown used to the pounding on her doors when people wanted her Brother. They always wanted him - wanted to control the might that he commanded. It had been like that when she was little and it would always be like that. It was just what it was, and just as it would be.
But she always thought that she would have protection from some of that fear.
When the war started, she thought it would be cold when they came. It always seemed to be cold when they did - either by luck or just by the long standing pact with General Winter. But, it was not cold when Germany came. And it startled her.
It had not been long since he had last came, not long since the wounds on her body had finally scabbed over from the last time. Still, it was a startling sight to see him again so soon, with a new glint in his eyes, and a new terror at his helm. She had not welcomed him with such open arms as the others around her did - there were not flowers at his feet or kisses on his cheeks for him at her door. But, those would not have lessened his force, she knew.
She did not run. She fought, and she knew Brother was fighting too. But, she knew her defeat would be swift, she knew his terror would hold her for what would feel like eternity. She knew even General Winter and her Brother - her dear, bitter Brother - would not push Germany from her lands as quick as they would have hoped.
So, she felt him grip his hands into her hair and pull. She felt him tear into her flesh with knives and guns and tanks and bombs and other things she wanted to forget. She felt him stab into the heart of her people. She felt the tattoos and serial numbers begin grace her skin, and the stars start to mark above her heart.
But, she did not scream. She did not break.
He snapped her bones in two and took her land and destroyed her people. But she did not scream. And she did not break. She fought and she felt her people fight, even as she felt them die.
So, with each cut he tore in her flesh and each scream he filled her ears with, she did not give him the pleasure of watching her writhe and cry out. She had suffered much over the years - and her heart silently knew she would always somehow suffer - so the pain he inflicted she knew would heal. And even if she was useless and startled and in pain for many years to come, she would not let him know that.
She would not let him see the fear that gripped her heart during the night as he banged on doors and destroyed her cities. She would not let him see the cringe of agony in her heart and her body as her people cried out in terror and died. She would not let him know that she could not fight him as well as she wanted.
Her Brother would come, and this war would end.
And even with no mercy allowed to her, she would not let Germany see the tears as her Brother's smothering arms returned to hold her into place. Broken pieces and all.
Wars always ended, and the winters would hide her scars.
NOTES Belarus wasn't named Belarus until after her independence in 1991. I went with Byelorussia instead, which seemed to be one of the more common spellings of her previous name.
Also, during WWII, Belarus lost almost a third of her population as the Nazis invaded. They occupied her until 1944, and destroyed almost all of her cities and industry. It certainly did not go well, obviously.
And, all in all, her history is rather sad. :[
Title: Training Wheels
Series: Axis Powers Hetalia
Character/Pairing: America/Belarus. Kinda.
Rating: PG
Note: Oh my goodness, this is crap. /dies Not sure why I'm posting this, but wtfever. I have a hard-on for America's hero complex about her, that's why. /hit
She was a puzzle. She was older than him - much older, he thought - although she was young like him, too. While he was brash and reckless (and thought most of the world was), she was quiet and unassuming and terrifying all at once. (For such a passive girl, she sure could swing a knife around.)
But, for all her quiet strength and world weariness, she was... off. She seemed unsettled, he realized. Something about the way her head would tilt, and her eyes looked like she was still so unsure in her footing. It was different than her Brother's displacement - his was much more a part of him than he would admit - but still, he couldn't help but see the continued similarity.
He didn't know much about her, nor did he claim to - honestly, he made it a bit of a point not to know too much of the old inner workings of others, unless he had to - but what he did know was so different from what he was used to. For him, his voice had always been such a source of power and strength for him. But, she had never really had that, he realized. She was always something below another, a country that did not have a strong enough voice to break through too often, other than what she clung to. So, that unsettled walk of hers could easily be explained by the fact that walking on her own was new to her.
Not that he could relate, though.
But, it was also that rattling in her head that could explain that unsure footing. One moment, she was declaring her independence, the next she was fleeing back to her unwilling brother. And her boss - oh god, her boss - wasn't making it any better. Not to mention the unethical things she had been doing lately.
In fact, it was her underhanded sales that had made him notice her. And he had been pissed. There he was, trying to be the hero and save the world from other crazy bosses, and he had ignored hers! And she didn't care! He had been in such a huff, and she had been as cool and as calm as always. She didn't even flinch when he told her he'd make sure she was set right - in fact, all she did was glare.
It was only when he saw her house and that unsettled walk of hers that he felt his heart stir. And suddenly, the hero complex thing was useful. He was going to save her! If she was hurt, he'd help! If she was unsure, he'd help her decide! If she was going to go down that dark road, he'd stop her, stop her and make her realize just how wonderful his way of seeing the world was! And then she'd be happy and stop needing to rely on others around her and walk an unsteady and unsure walk, right?
Needless to say, it didn't exactly go as he imagined.
She was angry, her boss was angry, and she didn't even want look at him. She didn't want to look at anyone, anyone but her Brother (and her Sister sometimes), and try to keep her unsure little world just as it was.
So, he'd fling his bosses' papers at her, smile that unyielding smile, and hold her hand even as she glared and snapped. Because, even if he could hold that hand for just a little while, maybe that little walk of hers would straighten, and she could find her own way, just for once. After all, that's what heroes should do.