He'd lost his mind, Prussia decided. That voice which sounded so much like his brother Germany could not be real – Germany didn't gloat, he didn't purr, and he certainly would never sound so delighted by his older brother's dire circumstances.
The smell of leather from gloved hands hauling him to his feet mingled with the heavier scent of sturdy denim, starch, and iron. The long starvation left him too weak to stand without support: he leaned against the body of this not-Germany, unable to resist his arms being drawn upwards, the chains to his shackles hooked over something.
His captor stepped back, leaving Prussia to lean against the wall to keep his weight from being held entirely by the shackles around his wrists.
"Look at me." Not-Germany's breath was too hot against his ear.
Defiant and proud he might be, and debatably mad into the bargain, but Prussia could tell when he was powerless, when it was better to comply without argument. He turned his head towards not-Germany, squinting against the harsh light.
Slowly, too slowly, his eyes adjusted to the blurred shape that stood beside him, letting it swim into focus. Black clothing, the style suggesting a uniform. A red armband with insignia that was supposed to be banned. Blond hair, slicked back. Strong face, familiar, but the eyes were wrong. Instead of the ice-blue of Germany's eyes, these eyes were blue behind a metallic sheen.
Senses dormant since his... arrest? Capture? Prussia wasn't sure what to call it, but that extra sense that told him when another of his kind was close had fully awakened, and was shrieking alarms into his mind. Pity it hadn't done that when his government had been dismissed.
Not-Germany's black-gloved hand caught his chin, tilted his head so he had to meet those wrong, wrong eyes. "You should be grateful," he murmured. "I could leave you here to fade. I could destroy you." A smile the real Germany would never have worn twisted his lips. "Instead I'm giving you a new life."
He didn't need to add that said life would be as his subordinate. Everything about him reeked of it.
"You will be my consultant, my strategist," he continued. "Once you and I are one, nothing will stop me."
So, perhaps Prussia was wrong, and he wasn't insane. In which case his brother – or this not-Germany who wore his brother's body but smelled of death and steel – was so far into madness he'd come out the other side into a twisted excuse for sanity that Prussia really didn't want to explore any further. "If you're trying to court me, you're going about it the wrong fucking way." His voice came out harsh, ragged with disuse.
The slap that snapped his head sideways into the cement wall was a complete shock. He knew Germany's temper, but his brother would never treat him this way, and that perverse tenderness from his... this not-Germany had mislead him.
His knees buckled and he would have slumped against the wall with his wrists taking his whole weight if not-Germany hadn't held him upright. The familiar and wrong voice purred behind his ear. "Oh, I'm not courting you. We will be unified when I leave this place: the only thing in question is how difficult you make it for yourself." The tone sent shivers running through his body.
"Treat me with the respect due your superior and I will do no more damage than necessary," not-Germany continued softly.
Prussia bit back a protest that he was nobody's subordinate. He wasn't suicidal. Not yet, anyway. Instead, he asked softly, "What happened? You're not... not acting like you normally would."
"No longer weak, you mean?" not-Germany asked with a sneer Prussia could hear in his voice. "I have a new boss, one who will lead my people to greatness." There was no sneering there, no cynicism. His voice rang with the certainty of belief.
"I've heard that one before," Prussia muttered. "Didn't work then, won't -" The fist that slammed into his gut drove the air from his lungs and silenced anything else he might have said.
For time he hung in his bonds, gasping, then not-Germany's voice rode over the pain. "Enough. I will not tolerate such disrespect from a subhuman."
A what? Prussia turned to stare at not-Germany, mouth open, too stunned for words.
That sneer, that contempt did not belong on his brother's face. "You, my brother, are defective. Inferior." Not-Germany gestured to Prussia's eyes, his hair. "Be thankful I am willing to overlook that."
Prussia glared at the stranger wearing his brother's body. "I found you dying on a fucking battlefield. I raised you and made you great, and this is your idea of thanks? You can keep it." He turned away, braced himself for pain. It was better than contempt.
This is great. It hurts me to see Prussia being treated so horribly by his not-brother, and I'm equally excited to see where this goes. But I'm a bit confused over the timeline. I assume this takes place post WW2?
This is the Preussenschlag - the internal timeline is that the NSDAP (the proto-Nazis) snatched Prussia while he was still in shock after having his government dismissed in 1932. It's now 1933 and Hitler has just come to power - and ordered Germany to unify with Prussia by whatever means necessary.
This is perfect. You've captured the madness of this corrupted Germany so well, it's giving me shivers. I literally read every sentence twice to soak in the feel of this scene. Eagerly awaiting the next update!
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hetalia_kink) wrote2012-08-10 06:08 pm
Betrayal 2 of ?
(Anonymous) 2014-10-14 10:37 pm (UTC)(link)The smell of leather from gloved hands hauling him to his feet mingled with the heavier scent of sturdy denim, starch, and iron. The long starvation left him too weak to stand without support: he leaned against the body of this not-Germany, unable to resist his arms being drawn upwards, the chains to his shackles hooked over something.
His captor stepped back, leaving Prussia to lean against the wall to keep his weight from being held entirely by the shackles around his wrists.
"Look at me." Not-Germany's breath was too hot against his ear.
Defiant and proud he might be, and debatably mad into the bargain, but Prussia could tell when he was powerless, when it was better to comply without argument. He turned his head towards not-Germany, squinting against the harsh light.
Slowly, too slowly, his eyes adjusted to the blurred shape that stood beside him, letting it swim into focus. Black clothing, the style suggesting a uniform. A red armband with insignia that was supposed to be banned. Blond hair, slicked back. Strong face, familiar, but the eyes were wrong. Instead of the ice-blue of Germany's eyes, these eyes were blue behind a metallic sheen.
Senses dormant since his... arrest? Capture? Prussia wasn't sure what to call it, but that extra sense that told him when another of his kind was close had fully awakened, and was shrieking alarms into his mind. Pity it hadn't done that when his government had been dismissed.
Not-Germany's black-gloved hand caught his chin, tilted his head so he had to meet those wrong, wrong eyes. "You should be grateful," he murmured. "I could leave you here to fade. I could destroy you." A smile the real Germany would never have worn twisted his lips. "Instead I'm giving you a new life."
He didn't need to add that said life would be as his subordinate. Everything about him reeked of it.
"You will be my consultant, my strategist," he continued. "Once you and I are one, nothing will stop me."
So, perhaps Prussia was wrong, and he wasn't insane. In which case his brother – or this not-Germany who wore his brother's body but smelled of death and steel – was so far into madness he'd come out the other side into a twisted excuse for sanity that Prussia really didn't want to explore any further. "If you're trying to court me, you're going about it the wrong fucking way." His voice came out harsh, ragged with disuse.
The slap that snapped his head sideways into the cement wall was a complete shock. He knew Germany's temper, but his brother would never treat him this way, and that perverse tenderness from his... this not-Germany had mislead him.
His knees buckled and he would have slumped against the wall with his wrists taking his whole weight if not-Germany hadn't held him upright. The familiar and wrong voice purred behind his ear. "Oh, I'm not courting you. We will be unified when I leave this place: the only thing in question is how difficult you make it for yourself." The tone sent shivers running through his body.
"Treat me with the respect due your superior and I will do no more damage than necessary," not-Germany continued softly.
Prussia bit back a protest that he was nobody's subordinate. He wasn't suicidal. Not yet, anyway. Instead, he asked softly, "What happened? You're not... not acting like you normally would."
"No longer weak, you mean?" not-Germany asked with a sneer Prussia could hear in his voice. "I have a new boss, one who will lead my people to greatness." There was no sneering there, no cynicism. His voice rang with the certainty of belief.
"I've heard that one before," Prussia muttered. "Didn't work then, won't -" The fist that slammed into his gut drove the air from his lungs and silenced anything else he might have said.
For time he hung in his bonds, gasping, then not-Germany's voice rode over the pain. "Enough. I will not tolerate such disrespect from a subhuman."
A what? Prussia turned to stare at not-Germany, mouth open, too stunned for words.
That sneer, that contempt did not belong on his brother's face. "You, my brother, are defective. Inferior." Not-Germany gestured to Prussia's eyes, his hair. "Be thankful I am willing to overlook that."
Prussia glared at the stranger wearing his brother's body. "I found you dying on a fucking battlefield. I raised you and made you great, and this is your idea of thanks? You can keep it." He turned away, braced himself for pain. It was better than contempt.
Re: Betrayal 2 of ?
(Anonymous) 2014-10-15 03:41 pm (UTC)(link)Re: Betrayal 2 of ?
(Anonymous) 2014-10-15 09:42 pm (UTC)(link)Hitler's control is... not good for Germany.
OP
(Anonymous) 2014-10-15 10:20 pm (UTC)(link)Eagerly awaiting the next update!