Filled with Russia as the Empire, Poland, Prussia, and Hungary making him regret it
A Tactical Error
Russia should have been suspicious. He knew how difficult Poland was – he’d handed the nation to Austria only a year after claiming him in the late 1700s – but he was being nice and even letting Poland have his own government and be an independent nation. Poland should be grateful.
So should Prussia, no matter how difficult he could be. After all, if Russia hadn’t given him a whole new country he would have died, and Russia had saved his life. Russia didn’t want Prussia to die. (Russia didn’t want anyone to know how much he wanted to be real friends with Prussia. Nobody would ever respect him again.)
Hungary, he sort of expected. She wanted to be with Austria, not Russia.
But… the three of them working together? He hadn’t expected that. Nobody liked Prussia (except Russia, secretly). Everyone thought the pale nation was a nuisance, a pest. Poland hated Prussia so much he’d do anything to hurt him.
Except… this couldn’t be anyone else’s work. His little Baltics were too scared of him to do anything like this. Czech and Slovakia were too busy arguing with each other to care, like Serbia, Bosnia and the rest of Yugoslavia. Romania was either sulking or doing strange magic things Russia didn’t want to know about. Bulgaria just shrugged and went with whatever was happening, and little Moldova just wanted friends.
No, only Poland, Hungary, or Prussia would have painted Russia’s house bright pink and made frilly bows out of Russia’s old flag (where had they found those? They were supposed to all be destroyed), and brought all the chickens inside and – where did those eagles come from? And all the other birds? - and why was Belarus looking at him like that?
Prussia opened the door and made a grand sweeping bow. “Welcome home, oh mighty conquering Soviet.”
Wait, what…?
“This place was looking, like, really horrible.” Poland said from where he was… he was wearing a skirt. And riding a pony. Inside Russia’s house. “So we cleaned it up for you. And made it really nice for your wedding.”
Wedding?
Hungary wasn’t doing anything outlandish or looking strange, but there was something about her smile that made Russia really, really nervous. “I cooked you a proper Hungarian wedding feast, too.”
Belarus clasped Russia’s arm, her eyes shining.
Prussia grinned. “And since I’m an ordained priest, I can do the honors right here.” He bowed to Belarus. “If the lovely bride wishes.”
Yes. Russia should have been more suspicious. If these three could do this to him in two days he would never survive them being in his house for years.
“Oh, yes! Big Brother needs me to look after him!” Belarus didn’t sound quite as demanding as usual, but still…
Russia fled. Perhaps his boss would let him send them back?
A Tactical Error
A Tactical Error
Russia should have been suspicious. He knew how difficult Poland was – he’d handed the nation to Austria only a year after claiming him in the late 1700s – but he was being nice and even letting Poland have his own government and be an independent nation. Poland should be grateful.
So should Prussia, no matter how difficult he could be. After all, if Russia hadn’t given him a whole new country he would have died, and Russia had saved his life. Russia didn’t want Prussia to die. (Russia didn’t want anyone to know how much he wanted to be real friends with Prussia. Nobody would ever respect him again.)
Hungary, he sort of expected. She wanted to be with Austria, not Russia.
But… the three of them working together? He hadn’t expected that. Nobody liked Prussia (except Russia, secretly). Everyone thought the pale nation was a nuisance, a pest. Poland hated Prussia so much he’d do anything to hurt him.
Except… this couldn’t be anyone else’s work. His little Baltics were too scared of him to do anything like this. Czech and Slovakia were too busy arguing with each other to care, like Serbia, Bosnia and the rest of Yugoslavia. Romania was either sulking or doing strange magic things Russia didn’t want to know about. Bulgaria just shrugged and went with whatever was happening, and little Moldova just wanted friends.
No, only Poland, Hungary, or Prussia would have painted Russia’s house bright pink and made frilly bows out of Russia’s old flag (where had they found those? They were supposed to all be destroyed), and brought all the chickens inside and – where did those eagles come from? And all the other birds? - and why was Belarus looking at him like that?
Prussia opened the door and made a grand sweeping bow. “Welcome home, oh mighty conquering Soviet.”
Wait, what…?
“This place was looking, like, really horrible.” Poland said from where he was… he was wearing a skirt. And riding a pony. Inside Russia’s house. “So we cleaned it up for you. And made it really nice for your wedding.”
Wedding?
Hungary wasn’t doing anything outlandish or looking strange, but there was something about her smile that made Russia really, really nervous. “I cooked you a proper Hungarian wedding feast, too.”
Belarus clasped Russia’s arm, her eyes shining.
Prussia grinned. “And since I’m an ordained priest, I can do the honors right here.” He bowed to Belarus. “If the lovely bride wishes.”
Yes. Russia should have been more suspicious. If these three could do this to him in two days he would never survive them being in his house for years.
“Oh, yes! Big Brother needs me to look after him!” Belarus didn’t sound quite as demanding as usual, but still…
Russia fled. Perhaps his boss would let him send them back?