hetalia_kink | Hetalia kink meme part 27

Hetalia kink meme part 27

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(background) So today I learned that before the American entry into WWI, President Woodrow Wilson was actually pressured from a lot of of people that made a very good case for the USA to side with Germany. Mainly because German-Americans were the highest ethnic group in the country, and that technically if anyone was an aggressor, it was Britain for blocking free trade in the high seas. But obviously, because of the Lusitania/Zimmerman Telegraph, and because many people in the USA already had sympathy for the Allies, that didn't happen.

I'd love to see an AU, in which America joins the Central Powers, and helps out Germany during WWI. How would it change everything? How would their relationship develop?

Bonus one - They end up winning the war. Punishments for Germany never happen.

Bonus two- America and Germany form a romantic relationship.

Bonus three - A confrontation between England and America.

seconded!

Washington, D.C. May, 1915

Despite the stifling heat, no windows were open in the room, the curtains drawn and lighting limited to a single lamp on the desk. The new air conditioning system kept the plain office from becoming so hot that its four occupants would pass out, but did not make any of them comfortable.

America watched the other three while he leaned back in the chair he'd claimed, his hands folded behind his head. Unlike the British, who'd handled their negotiations entirely through their ambassador, the Germans had the courtesy to send one of their personifications – and not just one of the minor states, either. Ambassador von Bernstorff looked more than a little awed by Prussia's presence, and limited his contribution to occasional murmured agreements.

Prussia seemed perfectly comfortable, something America remembered from his Revolutionary days: no matter the situation, Prussia would appear to belong there – or failing that would take charge and make sure he belonged there. It was one of the many traits of the older nation America tried to emulate, right along with never letting anyone know his weaknesses and building a public persona to be used among the other nations and when necessary, his boss.

Sadly, America had found he'd needed that for most of his bosses after George. Apparently all the work George and Ben and Bill and the others had done hadn't stopped corrupt asses buying their way into politics and even into the White House.

Right now, Prussia was using his not inconsiderable charisma to charm – or at least attempt to charm – America's boss. America wasn't entirely certain Wilson (America didn't like him and refused to give him a nickname or even think of him by his first name) could be charmed.

America did his best to look bored while he watched and admired Prussia's techniques. The man was good: he'd started with what looked remarkably like a genuine expression of sympathy for the Americans killed when the Lusitania went down, following with an explanation that the liner had ignored hails and been carrying munitions, and of course the British claimed that neither of these things were true but the U-boat's logs had the information and he'd personally read those logs.

Wilson didn't look convinced.

Not that America blamed him: there were ugly stories coming out of Europe, and the German Empire had invaded neutral Belgium despite their own treaty with the smaller nation.

When Prussia's spiel finally ended, Wilson gave a skeptical look before he said, “You must understand, Kingdom of Prussia, we hear... unsettling rumors. The Kingdom of Belgium posed no threat to you and remained neutral, yet the Empire invaded and is rumored to have committed numerous atrocities -” He got no further.

Prussia rose to his feet, red eyes narrowed in clear fury. “Lies!” he snarled. “I would never permit any man in my command to act in such a foul manner.”

America believed him: Prussia might be brutal in training and in battle, but the man did have honor and he would not – under any circumstance – harm the innocent.

Wilson raised an eyebrow. “But, Kingdom of Prussia, you were not in command. Can you honestly say that you are certain the reports are purely propaganda?”

Prussia looked pained, and sank back into his seat. “I wish I could, Mr President.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “And that is where you and the United States of America come in.” He looked tired, as though the war was wearing him down.

The eyebrow rose a little further, but Wilson didn't speak.

America pretended to stifle a yawn. He was supposed to be dumb, clueless, and easily bored: he'd best act like it.

Prussia took the lack of comment as permission to continue. “Frankly, Mr President, United States of America, this war will destroy Europe. Imperial Russia is in chaos, the followers of Marx continually agitate for further destruction, and the powers of Europe are bleeding young men. I do not ask you to enter this war: merely to stand as our uninvolved ally.”

Oh, now, that was a good one. America doubted it was possible for anyone to be 'uninvolved' when it came to allying with Prussia. He tipped his chair back a little further.

“That is a rather unusual choice of terminology,” Wilson said in his most quelling tone.

Prussia only smiled, the bright, charming – and completely insincere – smile of the polished courtier. “Given who I am, that is to be expected, Mr President.” He withdrew a rolled document from his coat. “Quite simply, the Empire asks only that you maintain favorable trade relations with us, and be willing to stand as intermediary in the brokering of a peace treaty that would be reasonable to all parties.”

America fell off his chair.

This is an interesting beginning! I love the little details, such as America not liking Wilson, and putting on his public face, seeming to be a lot more bored than he actually is, when dealing with Prussia. I also like Prussia being a skilled courtier.

I'm very intereted in seeing where this is going!

Definitely a promising beginning, here. I'm liking your take on America, how he maintains a facade (especially like how he learned it from Prussia). And Prussia being directly involved in the negotiation is win. I always enjoy representations of Prussia like this; dangerous, intelligent, lethal and most of all unpredictable - like the bloody dance of a sharp knife. ~~(It's almost 2 am where I am and the stuff that I should be writing in my fills is coming out in reviews. Gosh)~~
I'll be looking out for the next update!

By the time America had picked himself off the carpet and muttered the proper responses to Wilson's angry lecture about his manners (appalling), his behavior (childish), and his suitability as a nation (he wasn't), Prussia's suggestion that he speak to the nation alone and Wilson work with von Bernstorff on the details of the proposed alliance was about as well-received as anything ever was for Wilson.

He agreed to it, anyway.

America finished dusting off his suit while he waited for the sound of receding footsteps and the presence of his boss to move beyond his ability to detect them. Once he was fairly sure he and Prussia were truly alone, he nodded to the older nation. “So what's this really about?”

Prussia's caricature of being offended wasn't bad, although it was a bit overdone to have any chance of anyone thinking he meant it. “Really, America. You know I don't lie.”

Not any more than he could avoid, at any rate. All of them lied: they had to. It was built into their existence. “You leave things out.” He pulled his chair out and sat down. “I want to know what you're leaving out here.”

Prussia leaned forward, red eyes intent.

America met the older nation's gaze steadily. He might be young by nation-kind's standards, but he'd fought and bested the British Empire to win his independence, and he was even stronger now.

A sly grin crept onto Prussia's features, and amusement gleamed in his eyes. “You've grown. Good for you, kid.”

“So what are you trying not to say?” America folded his arms.

Now Prussia laughed. “This is between you and me, kid, but... I wasn't exaggerating about this war destroying Europe. It's not like the old days when good strategy and the right application of force would break through any line. It's trenches and shit flying overhead and bleeding our people dry.” He shook his head, sobering. “I could kick Willi's arse for getting us into this.”

Now that was the Prussia America remembered best: blunt to the point of rude, but no less accurate for it. “Your king?”

A nod. “He's a damn fool.” Prussia shrugged. “But he'll take that treaty I'm pushing if I have to flog him from here to Berlin and back.”

America's eyes widened. “You can do that?”

It was Prussia's turn to lean back in a chair, making the wood and metal creak. “Sure. It's part of how we work.”

“But he's... he's your boss.” Nations had to follow their bosses: it was something they all knew in their bones. Turning on a boss was unthinkable, impossible.

There was a certain darkness to Prussia's smile. “Something you might need one day, kid. There are times when you don't have to follow your boss.” His eyes half-closed, and his features stilled, making him look like a statue wrapped in an expensive suit.

A statue defying gravity with an old office chair.

“If you are certain – completely and without doubt certain – that your boss's policies will destroy your nation, then you can act against him. If he has turned against you or your people, then you can act against him. You'll know if he turns against you or your people: you'll feel the land itself wanting to reject him. It's harder to tell if he's leading you to destruction, and a hell of a lot harder to prove to the others – which you'll have to do if you do go against one that's gone bad.”

America swallowed. He didn't like Wilson, but he couldn't say the man was destroying him or turning against him or his people. Not yet, anyway. He wasn't sure how to tell if the land had rejected him: America was more a nation of a common ideal than a nation of common blood and land. That ideal might get kind of tarnished – he still remembered George trying to explain the compromise that kept the slave states in the fledgling nation because they couldn't afford to split, and hating it, but worse, having part of him in favor of slavery. It wasn't until then that he'd truly understood how America the nation could be different from America the person.

Prussia caught his gaze, held it briefly before giving a single, slow nod. “Assuming von Bernstorff doesn't do anything stupid and your boss agrees, this is what I'm looking to bring in.” He tilted forward and unrolled the document he'd brought. “It's not about winners or losers: it's about stopping the slaughter and cleaning up before we all lose an entire generation of young men.”

America leaned forward. The document was an annotated map of Europe, with Prussia's neat handwriting noting the changes he was proposing. He raised both eyebrows. “Giving Lorraine back to France?”

“Peace offering.” Prussia sounded bored.

“How do you propose to bring the others around?” America suspected that France would accept Prussia's offering simply because the worst of the fighting was happening in his lands, but the other nations... England was probably the most likely to cause issues. He'd accept that Prussia could – and would – persuade his king to sponsor the treaty, simply because if anyone could do something like that it was Prussia.

A hint of a frown touched Prussia's forehead. “There'll be some exchanges.” He stabbed a finger into the Balkan region. “In return for giving up any claim on Serbia, Austria gets to keep Polish Russia as a kingdom within his empire.” Another stabbing motion. “Russia gets no objections to his continued rule in Finland and the Baltic states.” Another. “We withdraw from France, Belgium, and Luxembourg, and offer help to rebuild: either monetary compensation or workers. And we try and execute any man found guilty of war crimes.”

America had no doubt Prussia would see those men died, whether officially or otherwise. He suspected he'd leave them on Belgium's doorstep if he had to.

“We'll cede German Samoa to England in return for his kids giving back German New Guinea and the African colonies they've taken,” Prussia continued.

“You're being very generous,” America said in a very dry voice.

Prussia just shrugged. “We can't win this. Neither can the Entente. Without your intervention, we'll batter ourselves all the way back to the dark ages.” Now the dark light that America recognized from late nights discussing strategy and logistics (tactics were for the battlefield, Prussia said) kindled in his eyes, the light that told of Prussia's fierce ambition to prove himself and be forever recognized as the world's greatest military power. If you weren't on Prussia's side that light was terrifying, and if you were, it was still kind of worrisome because Prussia had a long history of treating alliances as convenient things to be discarded as soon as possible. “I won't let that happen.”

America nodded slowly. “And my part?”

Prussia's smile was possibly even darker. “You will be our favored trading partner, and threaten to join on our side in order to bring the others to the negotiating table.”

And there was the sting, America thought. There always was something in one of these. “You won't get that past my boss.”

Prussia just grinned, fierce and eager. “Oh, I will. I know you don't want territory, but how does a German-funded institute of science staffed by some of our best people sound?”

America caught his breath. “Seriously? You'd do that?” Damn, he sounded like an eager child. He shouldn't do that around Prussia: it was too dangerous.

The older nation rose to his feet and strode around the table to lay an arm around America's shoulders. “Of course. Your people are remarkably inventive. Ours lead the world in the sciences. Imagine where that combination could take us.”

Oh, America could imagine it all right, and that was the problem. Prussia was damned good at figuring out what others wanted, and equally good at making sure it cost him nothing, or next to nothing. America hadn't missed that not one inch of Prussian territory was being ceded anywhere.

“It could go a long way,” America agreed. “But this would need to be a little more long-term than your usual alliances, Prussia. I'm not going to be left wondering what happened when the Empire decides there's no need for the United States of America's help.”

He'd swear Prussia sounded pleased when he laughed. “Oh, America, I'm not talking that kind of alliance.” He bent a little closer, his voice dropping to a murmur. “You see, my awesome brother is rather fascinated by you, my friend. He knows a personal union isn't possible, but he'd very much like this to be a national union.”

Re: Germany and America - WWI AU - The War to End All Wars 2 of ?

(Anonymous) - 2015-03-08 21:06 (UTC) - Expand

Re: Germany and America - WWI AU - The War to End All Wars 2 of ?

(Anonymous) - 2015-03-11 01:30 (UTC) - Expand

Re: Germany and America - WWI AU - The War to End All Wars 2 of ?

(Anonymous) - 2015-04-10 16:18 (UTC) - Expand

Berlin, June, 1915

America watched people moving through the streets below from a window in the Stadtschloss. Only the lack of young men indicated this was a city at war: women spoke together while their children played in the shade of the nearby Lustgarten – which struck America as a hilarious name for a park even though he knew German well enough to know there was nothing off about the name in that language.

He was still a bit shocked by how fast things had moved: Prussia had performed a minor miracle and charmed Wilson to the extent that his nation had been sent on the first German passenger liner departing New York after negotiations finished. It took almost as long to travel from Bremer to Berlin than from New York to Bremer even with the U-boat escort near British waters and the detour to the west of Ireland then north of Scotland: all the rail lines gave priority to war services so the passenger trains were stopped a lot more often than usual if he was to judge by the apologetic notifications from elderly conductors.

At least now he'd set foot on German soil he'd be able to short-cut his way between his homeland and here. It was a pain, a nation not being able to use short-cuts outside his land unless he'd personally walked there beforehand. Using them on a ship was impossible: there wasn't any land there to anchor anything.

America still wondered how England had enjoyed his pirate years so much. He hated being on a ship: it left him feeling like he'd been cut off from everything that mattered because he couldn't feel the land and his people felt distant, muted. On foreign soil he could still feel his people even if the land around him wasn't his. Wasn't him.

No wonder all the European nations were crazy: such tiny bits of land to call their own with other people and land all around them. His borders with Mexico and Canada were more than enough, a bit like an itch, and he really envied young Australia who had a whole continent with no borders at all. Now that was a kid with all the luck.

He couldn't fault the hospitality here: America spent last night in one of the palace's many guest rooms, and this morning after he'd breakfasted he'd been shown here and asked to wait as his host would be there shortly. Presumably said host was Germany, who was – according to Prussia – so eager for alliance.

America resolved to wait and see. He didn't want his people, his nation, entangled in foreign politics. Not that he liked this insane war, either, but he saw no point to his people dying for someone else's notions of superiority. They'd done enough damage to themselves barely fifty years ago.

The door behind him opened, and America turned. Oh. No wonder Prussia is so proud of him.

The man entering the room could be no other than Germany himself: tall – America guessed he stood about America's own height – broad-shouldered and muscular, pale blond hair slicked back in a severe style, ice-blue eyes, and a sense of assurance that only came from the strongest nations.

“I presume you are the United States of America?” he asked in English. “I am the German Empire, at your service.” He gave a curt bow, equal-to-equal, America thought although he wasn't used to dealing with that kind of thing.

America smiled. “I'm America, yes,” he replied in German, extending his right hand. “It's a pleasure to meet you.”

After a moment's hesitation, Germany extended a gloved right hand, and they shook. America didn't try to crush the other nation's hand, just used a firm grip that would give a hint of the strength he wasn't using, and Germany did the same.

No skin contact, of course: it was impossible to hide your resources from another nation with skin-to-skin contact. One only did that when one had no choice, or completely trusted the other, and America had learned it was better not to trust anyone, not even his brother. He and Canada might be twins and at some level deeper than he cared to examine share the entirety of North America (no matter what anyone else thought, Mexico belonged to Central, not North) between them, but Canada was still subject to England where America had chosen independence.

No, he wouldn't be making skin contact with anyone anytime soon. Even if resisting the charisma of a powerful young nation such as Germany was going to strain his supposedly non-existent self-control.

“I trust you had a pleasant journey,” Germany said, his deep voice giving no indication what he was thinking. He must be one of those who did the stone-faced thing to avoid giving anything away to other nations.

“Yeah, it was good,” America offered a bright – and quite meaningless – smile. “Your people are really something, you know. So organized.” His were efficient, but not organized the way Germany's were. American organization had a tendency to operate on the edge of chaos, which suited him just fine. He had a sneaking suspicion from the so-precise perfection of Germany's uniform – General, Jaeger corps if he was correct – that the other had a thing for precise planning and the like.

To his surprise, Germany blushed, and mumbled thanks. “Not everyone appreciates that.” He sounded nervous, even shy. “They seem to think it means I want to take over everything.”

America raised an eyebrow. “Dude, there is that business with Belgium and Luxembourg. It makes folks nervous.” He figured he'd better save mentioning sinking passenger liners for later in case he needed to really make Germany angry. You got a better measure of someone who was mad than someone who was calm – and what made them made was always worth keeping track of.

Germany only winced. “When the General Staff made that decision, Prussia had to hold me back,” he admitted. “I was taught to behave honorably.” His shoulders slumped a bit. “If you want, I'll take you to visit them so you can see for yourself I'm treating them well.” Those cold blue eyes narrowed a little. “I have not taken the traditional victor's privileges, nor has my brother.”

America relaxed a little. He could see the tension in Germany's shoulders, the way the other nation was dreading the response to that. “Good!” He didn't hesitate to let all the warmth he felt into his voice. Way back, Prussia had told him how that worked, back during his revolution, but he hadn't really believed it until he got home to find a naked England in his bed ready to be taken. He'd spent that night in the barracks getting blind drunk. The thought of doing that was just... sick. Wrong.

He wasn't surprised Europe was so fucked up, if they did that to each other after every war.

Germany relaxed a little.

“It's way past time you all let that one go, anyway,” America added. “It's bad for the one that does it, and worse for the one on the other end.” He'd cultivated an image of crass, boorish stupidity, but America couldn't bring himself to joke about this.

The other nation gave a curt nod. “I agree. It is a barbaric practice.”

To change the subject to something a bit less awkward – not that that was a particularly high standard – America said, “Anyway, there'll be time enough for that later. What I want to know is how you got your boss to agree to this. Last I heard he was frothing at the mouth and going to conquer everything.”

The corners of Germany's mouth twitched up, just a little bit, and his eyes warmed. “Oh, he was. Then my brother roared at him for five hours straight, sounding just like a drill sergeant, and he decided he'd rather be known as Europe's peacemaker.”

America couldn't help but wince. “Damn. The worst I got was an hour in mixed German, Prussian, and French. I don't think I could last that long.”

The slight hint of a smile grew a little warmer. “Yes, but America, Prussia tells me you are an intelligent man.”

Re: Germany and America - WWI AU - The War to End All Wars 3 of ?

(Anonymous) - 2015-04-07 22:06 (UTC) - Expand

Re: Germany and America - WWI AU - The War to End All Wars 3 of ?

(Anonymous) - 2015-04-07 23:15 (UTC) - Expand

The three of them drove to Germany's home with Prussia at the wheel of a beautifully maintained Mercedes 35 hp, and Germany gripping the seat with white knuckles as Prussia opened the throttle and drove at the positively insane top speed of the vehicle. America loved it. His automobile industry was doing wonderful things, but they weren't – outside the fledgling automobile racing industry, anyway – building for speed.

Once they were out of Berlin, Prussia relaxed into driving, clearly delighting in pushing the vehicle to its limits.

America suspected Germany would have buried his face in the upholstery if he hadn't been trying to keep up appearances with his guest.

Prussia slowed as they approached a village, giving America a chance to actually see it – all that wind buffeting at over forty mile an hour made it hard to appreciate the scenery – then turned before they could enter what looked like a picturesque little town, the kind of thing post cards were used for, entering an open gate that led to a long driveway through big shady trees – they looked kind of like oak, but not quite like the ones America knew – before emerging in front of a place that was at least as big as the Virginia estate that was America's main home.

The house was brick, facing south. It looked like there was a wing at each end of the main section, all in the same dark red brick with big multi-paned windows that someone probably cursed every time they had to be cleaned. If he had to guess, America would have said the place was built sometime in the mid to late 1800s.

After his speed driving here, Prussia brought the car to a stop at the porch at a positively sedate crawl, leaving the engine running when he stepped out and pulled off his driving gloves to wave to someone inside the house.

America wasn't all that surprised to see that several people rushed out, or that all of them were human servants. He was surprised that both Prussia and Germany greeted them with warmth and got friendly smiles in response. That didn't fit what people said about Germans being status-conscious and rigid stick-in-the-mud disciplinarians.

In short order, America was escorted inside and relieved of his coat and gloves then taken to a cozy parlor where he was promised that coffee and cake would be served shortly. Someone had his luggage, and he heard the kind of lively, cheerful chatter that suggested the staff here were happy with their work and their employers.

Interesting.

He studied the pictures on the walls, noting one of Prussia standing beside an LVG B.I. The biplane looked in top shape, and America was sure Prussia wore the uniform of the Imperial Air Service. By contrast Germany wore infantry uniform in all the pictures of him.

Footsteps, and the presence of a nation nearby, then Prussia's cheerful, "You like the photos?"

America turned and nodded. "You're with the Air Service then?"

Prussia grinned. "Closest thing to the old days I'll ever get, kid." He dropped into a heavily-upholstered chair. "Up there, it's like it used to be, you and your plane against the other fellow, none of this cowering in trenches waiting for the bombs to land."

Germany said from the doorway, "Air support is useful, yes, but someone has to man the defensive lines. Nothing will ever replace boots on the ground."

Prussia snorted. "Boots ain't much use when the arsehole wearing them is useless."

To America, the conversation had the feel of a long worn-through argument that had devolved into friendly bickering.

Germany rolled his eyes. "You need not remind me of the state of the Imperial War Office," he said with a sigh. "I'm quite cognizant of their shortcomings."

America couldn't help snickering. "Man, I hear you. Idiots promoted to get them out of someone's way always end up causing grief someplace else."

Germany seemed startled by the comment, but he gave the faintest of smiles, a tiny curve of his mouth and a touch of warmth in his eyes.

A middle-aged human woman rolled a tray loaded with coffee and German-style cakes, and America dropped the conversation in favor of fueling his body. He was a young, dynamic nation, he needed a lot of food.

Re: Germany and America - WWI AU - The War to End All Wars - 4 of ?

(Anonymous) - 2015-05-14 09:47 (UTC) - Expand

Re: Germany and America - WWI AU - The War to End All Wars - 4 of ?

(Anonymous) - 2015-06-17 03:27 (UTC) - Expand

After a dinner that wasn't nearly as awkward as America had feared it would be – there being no polite way to ask an occupied territory if their occupier was treating them well, especially when said occupier was sitting at the same table – America was invited to Germany's study, a comfortable room with bookshelves lining the walls and gas lamps giving off a warm light.

He'd praised the meal – German food wasn't that different from a lot of American food, and tasted good – made light conversation with Belgium and Poland, the latter being about as sarcastic as possible while America pretended not to understand and played straight man. Now he guessed it was time for some business, since the study clearly held the work Germany did at his home.

America studied the titles on the shelves rather than chance messing up the nascent alliance by accidentally reading classified material. Allies or not, every nation had their secrets.

“Thank you for your courtesy, America,” Germany said, signaling that he had finished removing the classified materials from his desk. “Did you have any preferences for this... arrangement?”

By which the other nation meant their alliance, of course. The hint of hesitance, of nervousness in his voice practically screamed it.

America turned to face Germany and smiled. “We can take this at whatever speed suits you,” he said. Ultimately, this being that kind of treaty, they would have to seal it with sex – why that was necessary was something America didn't understand, but he had no complaints about it as long as the other party didn't either. “I don't think anything needs to be sealed until we've got everyone's agreement with the peace proposal.”

Wilson would likely pull out – pun very much intended – if the war couldn't be stopped by this exercise, which would make treaty-sealing sex very much premature.

No, he wasn't mistaken: Germany was nervous about this. “Your President has no wish to associate himself with an unsuccessful proposal, I gather.”

America nodded, and shrugged. “That's about the size of it.” He offered his best smile. “So why don't you tell me a bit about who I've got to convince? I mean, I know England, and he'll be difficult, and France, but I haven't had much to do with anyone else who's involved.”

“Ah.” That tiny smile and the warmth in Germany's eyes shouldn't light up his face so much. “Please, sit down. This will take some time.”

America settled himself in the offered wing-backed armchair – the style wasn't in fashion at home, but it was comfortable and that was all he cared about – and didn't be an ass and lean back with his feet on the desk. England would have been stunned that he could be that polite, but then, the last time he'd had any interaction with England the old man had been taking America's attempts to prove he could be trusted as an equal – well, sort of equal – completely the wrong way and wound up driving him to his revolution.

Germany hadn't done anything to deserve America's more bratty side.

Germany sat in the other armchair, as close to at attention as one could get while seated. “Austria hates Prussia, but he should agree: he is not doing well with this war and his relationship with Hungary is... strained. Having Poland there to distract her will help him secure his empire once more.”

That sounded worrisome to America, but he said nothing. Better to listen now.

“He – that is, Austria – is something of an aristocrat. He expresses himself best through music, and if one is to believe Prussia and Hungary he loves his piano more than any living thing.”

“He's married to Hungary, right?” America asked. That didn't sound like something a wife – even one in an arranged marriage – would say of her husband.

Germany gave a single nod. “As I said, the relationship is strained. Since Hungary and Poland have been friends for centuries, she will be eager to work with him. Prussia believes that Poland and Hungary will have enough power to counterbalance Austria.”

“You have doubts?” The Empire didn't sound all that confident.

The wince was so slight that America wouldn't have noticed if he hadn't been watching for it. “Poland has been in my brother's care since the 1820s: neither Russia nor Austria would have him.”

That would be after the Partitions, if America remembered correctly.

“Russia sent him to Austria in the early 1800s. He does not speak of his time in Russia's household.”

Those simple words implied a great deal of unpleasantness.

“Austria treated him as a servant, as he does all his subordinate territories,” Germany continued. “I gather Poland was a very incompetent servant.” That with a hint of dryness suggesting any 'incompetence' was deliberate action to frustrate his conquerer. “When Austria sent him to my brother, Prussia treated him as an honored guest, a policy I have continued.” Something that might have been a smile touched his face. “Poland has stopped asking when we plan to stop playing with him: I believe he may have finally realized that we think of him as our guest and not our property.”

Given the utterly dysfunctional way the European nations interacted, America wasn't surprised it took Poland a long time to realize he wasn't being kept as some kind of game.

“That said, he and Prussia do not get on, and I believe Prussia's intent is to have him become someone else's problem,” Germany finished.

America considered this. “What does Poland think?”

“He is in favor. Partial independence with some of his lands is an improvement on being split between me, Russia and Austria, after all.”

Again, there was so much not said that America wasn't sure he'd caught it all. There were too many old blood-feuds here, too many vendettas going back through generations. He might not be an innocent – the things some of his Presidents had done to his tribes guaranteed that even without the whole slavery thing and the civil war – but damn, there had to be so much blood soaked into every inch of Europe it would stain everything.

Re: Germany and America - WWI AU - The War to End All Wars 4 of ?

(Anonymous) - 2015-08-24 04:44 (UTC) - Expand

Vienna June, 1915

After a week as Germany's guest, America was once more on a train, this time with Prussia accompanying him on a tour through Eastern Europe to – well, no matter what Germany called it, America couldn't help thinking of their job as selling the peace proposal. While they worked, Germany would be arranging a long enough cease-fire to start his side of selling the whole thing.

America rather wished he could be traveling with Germany and not Prussia: one week to get to know the young Empire wasn't enough. America liked what he'd seen so far, but he really wanted to see more, to explore less well-known German natural resources and find out if they were as impressive as the Imperial industries and sciences were.

Hopefully there'd be time for that later.

To America, there didn't seem to be that much difference between Austria and Germany: more mountains, but the people spoke the same language, and the buildings didn't look all that different to him. He guessed it was like the way his tribes looked the same to people who weren't part of them – you didn't see the small details if you weren't close enough to need to notice.

When the train pulled into Vienna, a man in seriously old-fashioned livery – like, straight from the early 1800s, old-fashioned – approached and asked, "Lord Prussia? I have transportation for you and Lord America."

Although he wasn't too happy about the whole 'Lord' thing – Americans were everyone's equal – Germany had said the Austrians were a lot more starchy about rank and such, so he supposed the human was doing things the way his people thought was right.

He still panicked the poor human by trying to shake hands with him, much to Prussia's amusement.

Driving in a horse-drawn carriage from the train station was weird, but thankfully they didn't have far to go: they could have walked if they truly wished, although the sheer size of the palace – did they really need that much space? - meant that it took nearly an hour to get from the Schoenbrunn Station to the Schoenbrunn Palace, or rather, the part of it where he and Prussia would be meeting with Austria.

America supposed meeting in the Imperial Summer Palace was more or less equivalent to meeting in Austria's actual home, and probably more convenient since Emperor Franz Josef was in residence there at this time of year so once they had Austria's agreement, they wouldn't need to go far to get the Emperor's approval.

Honestly, all the fiddly little rank distinctions made America's head spin. He was so glad he didn't have to worry about that: the Europeans didn't just have to remember their own assorted nobility and what-not, they had to remember everyone else's as well, and some of it was just plain weird, like how to Prussia the German Emperor was just – some 'just' – a King, but to all the other German states and to Germany himself the man was Emperor. Then there were the arguments over who married who with the assorted royal families and all the rest of it: it made great yellow press, but it sure didn't seem to America like the kind of thing that would fill a man with confidence that his nation was in good hands.

They were led through insanely beautiful and ornate halls with priceless artworks adorning the walls and other fripperies that had America's head aching as he tried to figure out how the Austrians justified this when if they sold a fraction of it they'd be able to build themselves top notch hospitals and things. Probably some national legacy thing, and probably the German palaces weren't any different – he just hadn't seen them all.

At least Germany's home, while large, wasn't awash in priceless relics.

Finally, the liveried servant or whatever he was left them in a wood-paneled room with huge windows that America figured had to have cost almost as much as the art, to get clear panes that big especially considering how old this place was. It looked like a private study, the kind of thing a wealthy – or in this case insanely wealthy and aristocratic to boot – gentleman would use to do whatever business he might need to transact.

The kind of room America privately considered a pretense: if you were going to work, you worked in an office. Gentlemen who pretended to work used studies where there was no sign of paperwork or reference books or anything actually useful.

A moment later the door opened and an unfamiliar voice spoke in a tone that dripped displeasure. "Prussia? To what do I owe the honor?"

Prussia turned to face the speaker – the angle of the open door hid him from America's view, but he pretty much had to be Austria – with a smile. "Ah, Austria. A pleasure as always." Prussia's bow was a shallow military thing, an acknowledgment of the other's presence rather than any kind of respectful gesture. "Allow me to introduce the United States of America. America, the Austrian Empire."

America took that as a cue and advanced with his brightest smile, right hand extended to shake hands. He didn't expect Austria to be prepared for that, and he wasn't mistaken: the other man looked at the outstretched hand as though he thought it might be diseased before bowing.

He'd worn gloves, too, and they were clean.

"A pleasure." Austria's cold, clipped words said clearly that it wasn't.

America knew how to deal with that. He smiled even brighter, snatched Austria's right hand and shook with just enough over-enthusiasm that the other man would find the handshake mildly painful. Since it wouldn't take much for America to move to 'bone-crushing', he figured that was enough. "It's great to meet y'all." For some reason, slipping into a southern drawl – particularly if he went full Texas – got right up the noses of the uppity types. "Real nice place you've got here, too." Speaking English rather than German was another way to irritate the man. "Them paintings and all must cost a fortune."

Austria stiffened. "I presume you are here for some purpose other than meaningless compliments?" he asked in curt German that really didn't fit the softer accent they had here.

Now to lay the bait. America kept the bright, insincere smile at full power. "Oh, it's nothing big. My boss just wants me to broker a peace deal over here."

It was probably just as well that Austria couldn't see Prussia: it looked to America like the white-haired nation hadn't expected him to just drop the news like that. Well, America knew what he was doing. He might not have had much to do with other nations, but he'd handled all sorts in his government, and fellows who thought they were better because of their breeding and all were easy to handle.

Once you'd got them off-balance, all you had to do was give them something that looked like it fit their ways, and they'd follow your lead without realizing they were doing it.

It took Austria a few moments to collect himself enough to reply. "You consider stopping a world-wide war a minor matter?"

Bait taken. America spread his hands and shrugged. "It's a nuisance to us, y'all fighting and blowing each other up over here. We're getting kind of tired of trying to figure out whose ships ain't gonna get sunk when we travel, and you know, a lot of my younger folk are wanting to visit but they cain't sort out how they can do it when they'd have to cross war zones to get to where they're fixing to go." As always when he tried to concentrate on an accent, America found himself slipping bits of most of his dialects together. He consoled himself with the thought that Austria was hardly going to know the difference between Georgia and Louisiana accents.

Again, Austria seemed shocked. "I have no interest in making life convenient for your people, young man."

America didn't let his smile slip one fraction of an inch. Now for the ego massage. "Well, that's a shame. I've got thousands of folks as want to study in Vienna, to learn music and art and all from the masters, and they just cain't do it right now."

Austria blinked once. Twice. "I suppose I could spare a little time to examine this proposal of yours."

Re: Germany and America - WWI AU - The War to End All Wars 5 of ?

(Anonymous) - 2015-10-01 02:12 (UTC) - Expand

It didn't take America long to understand why Prussia didn't like dealing with Austria. Where Prussia was all military efficiency when he wasn't trying to distract or confuse people, Austria was every inch the aristocrat. America had thought England was bad when it came to rank and title and every little gesture meaning something – Austria made the old man look positively egalitarian.

Several of his tribes would have claimed Coyote had made the two nations so different for the fun he could have watching them clash. That wouldn't have been so bad except it left America in the position of smoothing ruffled feathers, something he did very badly – especially if you asked Canada – and distracting both nations before they could splinter the Central Powers.

America played dumb – he'd started out with the yokel act so he might as well keep it going – and clueless. Really, really clueless. That mostly kept Austria from sniping at Prussia since with America taking his sarcastic observations as literal, the explaining that followed got more than a little painful.

By the time he convinced Austria to look at the map with the proposed changes, America's face hurt from keeping the big bright smile pasted on.

Austria's frown didn't help. "You expect me to relinquish my perfectly valid claim for justice from the Serbians?"

America notched his smile up a little brighter. "It's a starting point, y'know?" He spread his hands. "See, you'd get a fair amount in return – undisputed control in Bosnia and Herzegovina, as well as Russian Poland. That gives you a good sized coastline and good farmland. What's not to like?"

Austria's lips tightened. "That lout Serbia killed my Crown Prince."

America grinned. "Ya think he's going to like going back to Ottoman?" he asked. "See, he gets caught between you, Russia, and Ottoman. Of the three of y'all, Ottoman's least unhappy with him. He's gonna need someone to keep the big players off him, or he gets split between all y'all."

The other nation frowned as he thought, one gloved finger tracing the borders drawn on the map. "How will Russia take this?"

Well, Russia was a threat to anyone who shared a border with him. You had to be careful of an empire that big. "He gets Romania, undisputed claim over the Finns, and help putting down all the revolts he's got in his land." America chose not to mention the other big advantage Russia would get: access to the best medical facilities for his sick prince. "Plus, the reforms all y'all are gonna be making are gonna help keep things stable."

"Reforms." Austria's tone should have frozen something.

America kept the big smile on. "Well, yeah. Y'all are falling apart so bad even we've noticed back home. If there ain't no change to how things are done, everything's gonna fall apart, and you'll wind up with no empire, or part of someone else's."

Austria's eyes narrowed and his lips pressed together in a thin line.

America pretended not to have seen that and kept on talking. "If y'all make some simple reforms, agreeing to let your client states manage their own internal business and be themselves and all, you'll buy yourself time to stabilize stuff, save yourself a whole lot of boring paperwork, and get a whole lot of goodwill out of the deal. And y'all get more time for your piano – what's not to like?"

Prussia – who stood to the side where Austria had to turn to see his face – was trying really hard not to laugh.

Austria's frown turned thoughtful. "Your proposal requires these 'reforms' I presume." He wasn't asking.

"Well, duh." America spread his hands. "It's way more efficient, ya know? Towns look after their stuff, and the stuff that's bigger than the town gets handled by districts or states. States do their stuff, and so on. And people figure they're part of it all if you let them choose who represents them at all the different levels. It's working real well everywhere that's done it." He didn't mention that he'd been the first to really set up that kind of representative democracy. The line between obnoxious and useful, and obnoxious and getting kicked out of Austria's study was kind of fine right now.

The way Austria glared said that he might have overstepped anyhow. "You think you can just impose your ridiculous egalitarianism on my people?"

"No way, man!" America let a bit of a whine into his voice. "You get to decide the best way to make this work with your people, and how quick or slow you introduce it. See, no matter how you set it up, your client states are still gonna see it as an improvement on you ruling them, but you're still the one who's doing all the international stuff and guiding your Empire's direction."

"I presume I will not be the only one bound to this... requirement?" The silky tone warned America this was a dangerous topic and he'd better not say Austria would be the only empire who had to reform.

Just as well America had figured all of them needed to do this if they wanted to keep their territories. "Nah, of course not." He spread his hands in a gesture that was more expansive than conciliatory. "Ottoman and Russia and Germany will all be doing the same thing. England's already doing it, so there's no need to change anything there, and France doesn't really have much any more, but he's going to have to make some changes with his possessions too."

Austria's shoulders relaxed a little. "So all the empires will be required to reform to some extent."

"Yeah." America ratcheted the bright smile a little further, even though it hurt. "It's the only way you can keep a really diverse empire – or nation – together short of stomping so hard you'll lose it the moment you let up the pressure."

"And this is your idea?" Austria asked. "I'll have no part of anything proposed by that -" He indicated Prussia with a flicking gesture. "- sorry excuse for a nation."

For a moment so brief America wouldn't have noticed if he hadn't been looking that way, Prussia looked hurt, even sickened, then Prussia's usual mask was back. Not that the white-haired nation said anything: he was clearly letting America play this round his way.

America just raised an eyebrow. "Prussia is the best strategist in the world," he pointed out. "Naturally I consulted him on this, with Germany's permission, of course."

That got him a confused look, reminding him he'd let the happy idiot mask slip.

He put it back, fast, and went on, "Germany's the one whose idea it is, because he's smart enough to see how bad this is hurting everyone." Which was both rather less than entirely true and something of a slap to Austria. "He asked me to help, and we worked on the plan together."

Re: Germany and America - WWI AU - The War to End All Wars 6 of ?

(Anonymous) - 2015-10-05 00:12 (UTC) - Expand

Later, after they'd got agreements from Austria and his Emperor – the old man was easier to convince than Austria – and were once again on a train, this time heading south towards Trieste, where they'd board a ship to one of the Ottoman ports that wasn't under attack, America asked Prussia, "What was all that bull about 'sorry excuse for a nation'?"

No, he hadn't misread Prussia's reaction: the older nation winced. "It's nothing important."

"Bull." America glared at Prussia. "If it's going to affect whether someone's willing to sign on for this peace plan, it's important." He shrugged. "Personally, I don't give shit what the problem is, but I wanna know before I walk into any more meetings so I don't get blindsided. Got it?"

Prussia sighed and his shoulders slumped. He looked around their compartment – which of course held only the two of them – then turned to stare out the window. America doubted he was actually seeing anything they passed.

Finally, Prussia said, "I... I've never taken victory privileges. Ever." He swallowed. "That looks like weakness to pretty much everyone else."

America blinked. "So you kicked their asses then refused to rape them and this makes them think you're not a real nation? Pull the other one, man." Not even England had been that stupid.

Another long hush, the quiet broken only by the sounds of breathing and the more distant chuffing of the steam engine. Prussia sighed. "Damn you for being too perceptive, kid." He didn't manage more than a sad imitation of his usual manner.

America only shrugged, watching Prussia as the older nation stared out the window and saw nothing. "Normally it wouldn't matter, but it's enough that Austria was willing to keep fighting rather than sign on to something you put together." He didn't let any curiosity into his voice, but man did he want to know what was so horrible about Prussia that Austria would do that when his armies were only holding ground because the Russians were in such a mess.

"I... God, America, I've never told anyone this." Prussia closed his eyes, for once looking like the old warrior he was. "It's... I can't represent my women. Not fully." He spoke as though every word hurt to pronounce. "I don't have the anatomy."

America's mouth fell open. "Say what? Y'all are all hung up over that?" He shook his head. "Damn, that's got to be about the biggest load of bull I've heard in my life, and I've heard some big ones."

Prussia didn't look convinced. "You folk look at things differently."

America took a deep breath, let it out in a sigh. "Bear with me a bit, okay?" At Prussia's hesitant nod, he continued. "To start with, I'm no different than you. My sister..." He swallowed and closed his eyes. "Until the Civil War, she was my other half."

Prussia lifted his head a little.

"Thing is, I remember my parents. They were human. Mortal. Canada and I were twins, and our older sisters were dead of old age when we were still toddlers." America closed his eyes. "Our sibling-nations... they were born later, from different humans, a bit before Vinland was settled."

That got the old nation's attention. "What the fuck is Vinland?"

America chuckled. "These days it's nothing, but it was a Viking settlement in what's now Canada. When the climate turned cold and the ships stopped coming, the settlers who survived that first bad winter joined one of the Algonquin tribes. It was that or starve, and the Algonquin were friendly." He knew his grin was sharper than it should be. "One day someone's gonna realize that a lot of Algonquin sounds a hell of a lot like Old Norse."

Prussia stared at him. "That's all very interesting, but -"

America shrugged. "Nations born of humans are singletons. I've talked to all the tribes, and the ones whose parents are nations don't need a sibling-nation to represent the other sex. We do."

Another blink. "How did you keep that from England? He looked after you when you were tiny."

It was progress. America could work with that. "I was old enough to bathe myself with supervision, so he didn't need to go poking fingers down there to find out if I had 'everything'." He made a face. "You have no idea what it was like getting the talk from him."

For a while it seemed Prussia had no idea what to think, then he shook his head slowly. "I don't remember having parents," he said at last. "I remember suckling at a she-wolf's teat and the warmth of her cubs all around me, and running about the forest. Figuring things out for myself." He shrugged. "My people back then sacrificed me to their gods any time they could catch me. They liked burned offerings, and preferred it if they were alive when the fires started."

America shuddered. "Damn." He shook his head. "That had to have been hellish."

Prussia just shrugged. "I didn't know it could be any different." He folded his arms and looked away again. "You aren't playing some kind of shit game, America? Because if you are..."

America would have had to be completely brainless to miss the threat. "Nope. If you want, I can prove it to you – but not when there's any chance someone's going to come by to sell us something and get completely shocked."

That – finally – earned him a chuckle. "This is a private car, America. Nobody is going to come and bother us. If we want something, that's what the bell is for."

He only shrugged. "I don't use them back home. I'd rather travel with my people, you know?"

Prussia didn't respond, and after a long, awkward silence, America asked, "So who's likely to give you trouble?"

Prussia shrugged. "Ottoman should be fine. We've never fought directly. Russia... It depends which kind of crazy he is that day."

America stared at the other nation. "I don't want to know. But you're going to have to tell me anyway."

Re: Germany and America - WWI AU - The War to End All Wars 7 of ?

(Anonymous) - 2015-10-09 00:04 (UTC) - Expand

Canakkale, Ottoman Empire, July 1915

After the hideous awkwardness of demonstrating to Prussia that he was indeed a singleton, the strangeness of meeting Ottoman on a battlefield near the town of Canakkale during what appeared to be a truce arranged so that both sides could retrieve their dead and dispose of the bodies was a complete non-event.

It didn't surprise America at all that England had landed his forces in the wrong place, then rather than admit his people made a mistake had dug in and guaranteed a butcher's bill that would cost him dearly.

"These kids of England's," Ottoman was saying, "They're crazy, but fine, fine soldiers." He shook his head. "They've almost beaten us back a few times, but England's men won't believe they took our line, so they retreat when we come back with reinforcements."

"Which ones does he have here?" America asked.

"Australia and New Zealand. They don't have many men here compared to England, but it's their first time as front-line troops instead of supporting roles, so I guess they felt they had to be here."

That made a certain amount of sense: America could remember when he'd been young and eager for his first war. It hadn't lasted past that first brutal winter at Valley Forge, when men had frozen to death for want of blankets and firewood. When he'd seen what the cost of war would be for his people.

Had Prussia not taught him how to fight, he would have lost, and the price would have been far, far higher. As things were, that war and the ones that followed left him convinced he didn't want to be involved in any more wars. He could live with being hurt, but the way wars hurt his people... He didn't want that. His people deserved better.

Ottoman waved to someone America couldn't see. "This visit of yours isn't going to be derailed if the kids are over here, is it?"

Prussia gave a slight shake of his head, silently giving America the lead.

"Nope, the more the merrier," America said with a grin. It wasn't like he was trying to pull them away from England, after all.

He was surprised, a bit, by how friendly Australia and Ottoman seemed to be. Nothing sexual, he thought, just... almost brotherly.

New Zealand watched, but America had a suspicion not much escaped the smaller nation: he'd heard New Zealand was one of the few colonies England hadn't either conquered or settled out over the objections of the native people. He'd had to be colonized by treaty, something he'd heard England was not pleased about.

Australia was tall, about America's height already, but with the awkwardness of a teen whose body has yet to fully adjust to his height. Brown hair, gray-green eyes, and tanned skin that looked darker in the harsh light of the Turkish summer. Beside him, New Zealand's paler skin and sandy hair looked almost washed out, as though the smaller nation was used to being in his more outgoing brother's shadow.

"Did we crash something, mate?" Australia asked. "If Prussia's around that usually means he's up ta something."

America grinned. "That depends on what you call 'up to something'. Prussia, why don't you outline your brother's proposal."

New Zealand raised both hands, a gesture that wasn't quite the placatory thing it seemed. "Whoa! If it's going to involve England, we don't want to know."

"Tch." Prussia clicked his tongue. "This is a peace proposal. No betraying anyone, everyone gains something. America's just here to help persuade folks to look at it."

Australia exchanged an unreadable look with New Zealand before he said, "I thought you didn't want anything to do with this war."

"I don't." America didn't hesitate. "It's causing problems for my people: I want it to stop. The boss and I figure if we mediate a treaty, it stops, my people get what they want, and yours stop dying in stupid places."

Australia's eyes narrowed, but he didn't throw the punch he obviously wanted to throw. "Listen, you bastard, if ya think I'm gonna stab me own brother in the back -"

"Of course you're not." America turned his grin up a bit brighter. "But you've got to admit this isn't the best choice of battlefield."

Ottoman snorted. "The best choice is to avoid the battle altogether." He nodded in Prussia's direction. "I do hope this is an interesting proposal. I will not cede my empire in the name of peace."

"Nobody's asking that," Prussia said with a lopsided grin. "Actually, if you agree you'd get help to keep your empire together, as well as getting back a decent-sized chunk of the Balkans."

The mask made it difficult to tell, but America was sure Ottoman's eyebrows rose. "I find it difficult to believe Austria or Russia will accept that."

"Which is why you don't get all the Balkans." Prussia's grin had the edge that had once sent other nations hastening to strengthen their defenses. "You get the south, through to – and including – Serbia. Austria-Hungary gets the west, and Russia gets the north. All of you gain, and all of you get help to keep your empires from collapsing."

After that, it didn't take long to get Ottoman's agreement: apparently his empire was in worse shape than America had realized. He didn't even object to the reforms he'd have to implement to get help.

#

St Petersburg, Russian Empire August, 1915

Getting to St Petersburg was... interesting. It involved arguing with Bulgaria, then Romania – both were nominally neutral and being courted – quietly – by the Entente and the Central Powers, and neither particularly wanted to have Germany's second in command openly traveling through their land. That paled beside entering the Russian Empire: America had to give his word as a nation that he'd take full responsibility for anything Prussia might do.

That was exactly the kind of thing he wanted to avoid, but he didn't see any other way the two of them would be able to speak to Russia, what with Russia being part of the Entente.

America hoped Germany had been able to negotiate cease-fires on his side of things. Things would be beyond tense until all the cease-fires were in place. It had been challenging enough convincing England's men to hold fire as long as Ottoman's people held theirs, even with Australia and New Zealand seconding him and Prussia staying out of the way.

Now, in a luxurious drawing room in a St Petersburg palace – America couldn't remember which one it was – they waited for Russia to speak with them. He fiddled with the portrait of Alaska he'd taken from his valise: it was always going to be a gift for the Russian Empire, but he figured starting with the gift might lighten the tension a bit.

He and Prussia might be housed in a palace, but they were also escorted everywhere by heavily-armed guards. Said guards currently stood at the door: the only way out of the drawing room unless one chanced a broken limb by dropping from a fourth-floor window.

Well, the only way out without short-cutting, and that would be seriously bad manners as well as likely to really make Russia angry.

Russia's voice sounded outside the room, that weird mix of high-pitched and almost child-like with deep, rolling undertones. America's Russian wasn't quite good enough to make out what he said to the guards, or what they said to him.

Then the Russian Empire entered the drawing room. The world's largest nation was taller and broader in the shoulder than America, giving off an aura of power and cold. He wore a long coat despite the relatively warm temperature, and had a faded pink scarf wrapped lightly around his neck. His eyes – America often thought the color was nearly exactly the same as Canada's eyes, the purple-blue of the eastern sky at sunset – narrowed a little but all he said was, "I was not expecting visitors."

America turned up the smile. "It was a bit difficult to call ahead: sorry about that." He extended a gloved hand. "It's been a while: Alaska's been asking when you're coming to visit."

Russia's set little smile seemed to freeze on his face. "I am not understanding you, America."

America took a step closer. "I told her from the start that you didn't want to give her up, Russia." He let his smile soften into something more genuine. "That it was your Czar who made you do it. I want her to think of you as her big brother."

Russia swallowed, looking almost panicked for a moment. "But Alaska is your territory now."

"Well, yes, and I'm her other big brother." He offered the portrait. "I brought this for you. No matter how things work out, it's yours."

Russia took the small painting as though he feared it would bite him. He blinked a few times before he said, "She is growing fast."

"She is," America agreed. "She'll be a full state within a century, I'm sure."

"My sisters will like this," Russia said after turning the portrait in his hands a few times. "Alaska is looking like Belarus did when she was small."

"She's got your eyes, though," America said. "The General adores her."

"Ah." Now Russia looked happy, and small wonder. General Winter protected his own. "This is good." He set the portrait on a side table, then asked, "So what is the business you come for?"

Explaining that took a while – long enough that Russia had tea and blini brought in for his guests – and convincing him to negotiate took longer. The promise of a joint German-American medical research institute close enough that the researchers could work – discreetly, of course – with his Csarevitch to keep the boy alive long enough to sire an heir helped, as did the promise of German troops to help put down the rebellions springing up across his empire and deal with the Marxian followers who were inciting most of them.

Berlin, German Empire, August 1915

Rather than deal with crossing the Eastern Front, Prussia and America used the short-cuts to return to Berlin. Even hauling their luggage themselves it was easier than trying to explain to suspicious officers just why they'd been on the Russian side of the front.

They stepped out of the short-cuts in Germany's drawing room, where Prussia sighed and muttered, "Thank God that's done."

America couldn't disagree. "I hope Germany had no problems with his side of this."

Prussia shrugged. "He shouldn't. The only one there's any real doubts about is England, and nobody can predict how he'll take it."

That was certainly true enough: England's strength was in his Empire, not his nation. As long as he had his colonies all over the world and those colonies could reach England by sea, nobody was going to defeat the British Empire. They might force him to a truce, or to leave somewhere he wasn't wanted, but England itself wouldn't be touched. "Badly." America said in a dry voice. "He won't like not being one of the major players."

More than that, America suspected that England would respond very badly to America's part in the arrangement. He'd tried not to think about that because it made his chest ache the way it had back when he'd walked away from England that day in the rain.

Prussia poked his chest. "You've got bad blood between you and him still, haven't you?"

America shrugged. "I think he hates me," he said simply. "I'm sure he thinks I hate him."

"Do you?"

That wasn't a question he'd expected from Prussia. "No." He didn't have to think about his answer. "I never hated him." He shrugged again. "I wanted him to see me as more than just his colony, more than a child." It wasn't exactly easy to discuss this, not when he'd fought his feelings since the late seventeen hundreds. "Obviously that was a mistake." He spread his hands. "I'm mostly over it now."

"Mostly, huh?" Prussia sounded skeptical, and America didn't blame him. "Well, let's get this shit put away and we can sort out the mostly over some proper food, not that Russian shit we've been eating."

Not that America particularly wanted his next meal flavored with one of Prussia's interrogations, but food was a good thing regardless. "Sure. Don't bother calling servants for me – I can get this easy enough." He didn't make much of his abnormal strength most of the time, but asking human servants to carry his luggage when he could do it without any strain seemed ridiculous.

Prussia chuckled. "It is a bit lighter than that cannon you lobbed at me to get my attention."

"A bit, yeah."

To America's considerable relief, Germany had returned from his mission, and the interrogation over dinner was largely Germany asking both of them the outcome of their negotiations. The matter of America's relationship with England – or rather, the lack of one – didn't arise.

Not that America expected to avoid the topic altogether – he could tell that from the sharp look Prussia sent him before he left to 'catch up on sleep'. Germany had clearly dismissed his older brother so he could discuss their alliance with America in private.

The two nations retired to Germany's study, where the young empire closed the door before he asked, "What did Austria do?"

America blinked. While he expected Germany to know his brother well enough to tell when Prussia was avoiding something, he hadn't thought there'd been anything noticeable about that part of the discussion. "He as much as said he wouldn't touch the negotiations if Prussia had any part in the plan."

Germany's expression didn't shift, but his breath caught.

"I convinced him it was all you and me and Prussia was just your emissary," America added. "He also called Prussia a 'sorry excuse for a nation'."

Germany's shoulders sagged. He walked over to the window and stared out at the night. "I apologize, America. I had thought Austria would be more reasonable, particularly since my brother is my subordinate these days." He was silent for a moment. "Did you..."

"I asked why later." America figured sticking to the point was his best option. "It's a stupid thing for all y'all to get hung up on, and you've got it backwards."

Germany turned to stare at him, the intensity of his ice-blue eyes almost frightening. "How so? Understand, to me Prussia is simply my brother. I would do anything to make him proud of me."

America nodded. "Oh, I didn't mean you, specifically." He leaned against the desk. "It's this idea that not being hermaphroditic makes someone not a real nation that's bull." He spread his hands. "All that means is he's first-generation. His parents were human."

Germany blinked. "I've never heard of such a thing." He didn't seem to object to the idea. "I know I am young, but Prussia taught me everything he knew."

"He had no idea about this." America stretched and pushed off the desk. "I guess he was mostly on his own and never trusted anyone else enough for them to tell him. And y'all have been killing each other for a long, long time." To say the least. Not that his tribes were any less warlike, but they'd never had the population density of Europe, or the kind of dynamics that would see tribes routinely wiping out other tribes. That meant a lot of them had survived until the second wave of European settlement, the one that had created him as a nation rather than the vague idea he'd been until then. "Me and my brother and our tribes figured it out – and before you ask, we were both big enough to bathe ourselves and use the outhouse on our own, so the question never got asked."

Germany's blush included his ears and what little of his neck his uniform shirt left visible. America couldn't help wondering if the blush went all the way down, then reminded himself – firmly – that there'd be time for exploration later. It wasn't as if either of them were virgin territory.

"That must have been... embarrassing. I mean, finding out you weren't... um..." Germany's blush deepened to almost purple-red.

America chuckled. "It was." He shook his head. "I guess that talk is embarrassing no matter who gives it or who gets it."

Germany's shudder and emphatic nod was answer enough.

"Anyway, Austria signed, I got a chance to talk to Hungary and she's good with it, so there shouldn't be any more problems from that side of the Central Powers." America figured he'd best give Germany a chance to cool his blushes. "Turkey's good – I think his Empire's in more trouble than he wants to admit – and Russia's willing as long as you and me set him up a medical research facility in St Petersburg."

"Those rumors about his heir?" Germany asked.

America nodded. "We'd need to staff it with people who could keep quiet, what with the state of things over there, but I don't think that's too hard." The other problem was the bigger one, really. "I think I managed to convince the Czar to let the kid stay with Russia – that binding between a nation and their ruling family thing should help keep the boy alive until he can get some proper medicine as well." The question of how a boy with such a severe inherited disease would perpetuate the Romanov dynasty was one America preferred not to consider. What he'd heard was any children Alexei managed to have would also have the problem.

"Let us hope so," Germany said softly. "If the Russian Empire falls, what rises in its place will be... ugly."

"Probably. That madman Ulyanov and his followers are talking the kind of bull that sounds nice on the surface and stinks like fermented sewage."

Germany made a sound that could have been laughter. "Your analogies are unique, America. I like them."

The Hague, The Netherlands October, 1915

America couldn't help but wonder what inspired Netherlands to house the peace conference in the Binnenhof: having a collection of nations straining to maintain a truce long enough to actually discuss a binding treaty in the same building as one's entire government apparatus seemed a bit... well... optimistic.

He supposed it was convenient – with the Dutch government not currently in session the bosses were doing their part in the Old Hall, where the House of Representatives sat, while he and the other nations had taken over the Senate's room. Netherlands himself sat with Switzerland, and glared as fiercely as the dour Swiss.

Not that America blamed him: the prospect of damage to his seat of government couldn't be appealing.

It didn't help that the room – 'room' simply didn't do the place justice, it was a full-on Chamber, with elaborately decorated not-quite-domed ceiling, paneled walls, and art works that were probably priceless set into the ceiling decorations. The furnishings were no less ornate – except for the plain wooden table in the middle of the room which appeared to have been brought in for the occasion because it didn't look like anything else in there.

America wasn't about to complain. They'd need the big table to spread out the massively annotated map detailing which of the powers acquired what.

He knew too well that even though everyone except England – who hadn't even agreed to attend until three days ago – had agreed in principle there was likely to be a whole lot more of what he privately though of as horse trading before everyone was satisfied. Or at least equally dissatisfied.

Germany nodded to Netherlands and Switzerland, greeting both politely. He and America were here early to "discuss" potential problems with their host and the neutral facilitator, although all four of them knew already what – and who – the biggest problems were likely to be.

"I should like to see this map again," Switzerland said without preamble.

"Sure, man." America unrolled the document and laid it on the table, using paperweights to keep the paper from curling back. "What's bothering you about it?"

By now it had notes in multiple nations hands, and as many languages as nations. The annotations ranged from Prussia's neat handwriting to Russia's scrawled French with half the letters somewhere between Cyrillic and the normal alphabet.

Switzerland stabbed a finger to the center of Europe. "What is Prussia sacrificing?"

America clenched his teeth and didn't roll his eyes. Beside him, he felt rather than saw Germany stiffen slightly, and jumped in before the other nation could say anything. It would go over better from him than from Prussia's brother. "This." He pointed to a section of land that had multiple comments. "It's going to Poland, who's going to be an autonomous nation within the Austro-Hungarian Empire." That hadn't been part of the original plan, but it had quickly become obvious that if Prussia didn't give up some of his lands the whole thing would fall through. Austria had been bad enough, but Germany's other brothers were next to impossible.

The only reason America hadn't laid them out with a few well-placed punches – one apiece – was that they were Germany's brothers and it was kind of impolite to consider relations with a nation after you'd knocked his states silly. Even if they did deserve it.

Switzerland nodded. "That will suffice." The slight bow he directed to Germany was more apologetic than respectful. "This may seem harsh, cousin, but everyone knows Prussia is your right hand, and his reputation is not... good."

America was sure the temperature in the room dropped several degrees right there, and that frost edged Germany's voice when he said, "You need not pretend that you do not share the low opinion of my brother."

"I want this war to end." Switzerland leaned forward with both hands on the table. "Last winter was bad enough. If fighting continues I will have people starving or freezing. What I think of Prussia is irrelevant to that."

Netherlands nodded, his lips pressed tightly together.

"If fighting continues we will all have people starving or freezing," Germany said. "Better to follow America's plan."

While he didn't like having to take credit for Prussia's idea or his work, America, Germany, and – surprisingly – Prussia himself had agreed it was necessary. There was too much at stake to risk anyone refusing to have anything to do with the arrangement because of old rivalries. "The fighting needs to stop," America said softly. "How long is it since y'all have had any kind of break from war?"

Not that he was much better, with his civil war tearing him apart less than a hundred years after he'd won his independence, but... he didn't really want to be in any wars. Ever. The ones he had been involved in were enough to convince him of that, and the little he'd seen of this one only served to strengthen that belief.

"How'd you want to present this, anyway?" Netherlands asked. "And who's going to sit where?"

America throttled the warmth that rose in his chest when Germany glanced his way, silently asking him to take the lead. He could bask in the feeling later. "Entente to that side." He pointed. "Central powers and neutrals to the other." England's propaganda had been enough to bring a number of nations who should have kept out of it into the mess, and they wanted representation here as well. It was a testament to Germany's strength that he was able to match, even outfight so many other nations. "I'll announce it all, if y'all -" He indicated Switzerland and Netherlands. "- will bash heads if anyone's an ass."

He was pretty sure Switzerland's tiny smile meant amusement. "I'll beat them with my Nobel Peace Prize."

America grinned at him. "Man, that would be hilariously ironic." He glanced at his watch. "The others should be arriving any time. Let's get this started."

Re: Germany and America - WWI AU - The War to End All Wars 12 of ?

(Anonymous) - 2015-12-02 06:21 (UTC) - Expand

Of course, all the planning went to hell within minutes of the first nations arriving. America and Netherlands had to separate – of all people – Austria and North Italy. Apparently Austria hadn't taken Italy realigning itself from neutral-favoring-the-Central-Powers to joining the Entente at all well. South Italy swearing at Spain – who was present claiming he wanted to be sure nobody else started a war on his borders was more of an entertaining sideline.

By the time he, Netherlands, and Switzerland had everyone sitting down and doing nothing worse than glaring and looking sullen, America was ready to punch something. Europeans. Greece and Bosnia had blacked eyes, courtesy an angry Turkey – whose mask was looking more than a little the worse for wear – Russia had threatened Saxony and Bavaria with closer relations (from him, it was a threat), Czech and Slovakia were clinging to each other and hiding behind Hungary, and the various nations of the British Empire hadn't even arrived yet.

Both China and Japan claimed they wanted to be sure their part of the world was properly represented, with China also claiming that his lands should be wholly his, without any other powers trying to control him. Just those two made the Entente side of the room uncomfortable, and that was without the juggling of seats needed to make sure no blood enemies in Africa, Asia, or the Middle East ended up next to each other.

America hadn't expected the entire world to show up, but it looked like that was exactly what had happened. If he wasn't nursing a headache by the time this was over, it would be a miracle.

The door opened again, and the various member nations of the British Empire started to trickle in. India, Hong Kong, a whole lot of smaller nations America didn't recognize, then the ones he did know: his brother Canada, followed by Australia and New Zealand. And finally, England.

Who took one look at America, turned and walked out.

America sighed. "Get things started will you Netherlands? I'll talk to England." Or be yelled at by him, which he supposed amounted to more or less the same thing.

Netherlands nodded, and America bolted for the door. He had to catch England before the other nation short-cut himself out of the city.

Thankfully England wasn't running, just walking briskly. America caught up with him before they'd left this wing of the building. "What gives, man?"

England favored him with a sour look and tried to keep walking. With America holding his arm – not hard, but firmly – it didn't work. "Kindly cease butchering my language."

Under any other circumstances, America would have responded with the most ridiculous slang he could manage. Not now, not with any chance of ending this war requiring the older nation to cooperate. "I'm sorry," he said instead. "I was just... startled by your reaction." That sounded horrible and formal.

England stopped trying to pull away and glared at him instead. "I was under the impression you cared nothing for my opinion."

America sighed. "Then you were mistaken, England." He kept that soft. "Look, we have the use of some of the smaller conference rooms as well. I'm sure you'd rather discuss this somewhere more private than the hall." Netherlands government might not be sitting, but there were plenty of humans around.

"I hardly think I would have anything to discuss with you."

It was an effort not to wince at the venom in England's voice. Instead, America played clueless. "Then you'll go back to the conference?"

"What?" England tried again to pull away. "I said nothing of the sort."

What America did then was possibly the most underhanded thing he'd personally done in his life – the things his governments had done, often against his will, didn't count – he opened his eyes wide and made the most woebegone face he could manage. "Don't you want this war to end, England?" He even made his voice soft and uncertain, more child-like.

He might be taller and broader in the shoulder than his former mentor, but America knew very well that England still felt something for the child he'd been. It might be bad form to deliberately remind the other nation of that, but he needed to do something to stop England leaving. And if he wanted England's agreement, that something couldn't include picking the older man up and carrying him back to the conference, no matter how easy it would be.

For a long moment England just stared at him, mouth open. Those green eyes were too bright, as though he was trying not to cry. Then they narrowed, and England's hands curled into fists. "You... you insufferable... Do you think I don't know how much you hate me?"

Well, crap.

America sat down, hard enough to jar his tailbone. He didn't wince. "I don't hate you," he said. "I never hated you."

England folded his arms. "Never? 'You used to be so big', remember?"

This was not the place America would have chosen for a heart-to-heart, much less a soul-baring session. He sighed. "That wasn't how I meant it." Now he didn't try to fake anything, just let everything show on his face. "England, I wanted you to stop seeing me as someone to protect. We both know that, but the reason I wanted that... was so that you could see me as an equal. A partner." He didn't try to hide the sadness in his smile. "Well, I made a horrible mess of that part, and I wouldn't expect you to consider anything like that now." He leaned against the wall and tilted his head. "But please, don't think I'm involved in this whole peace plan just so I can hurt you. I'm not. I would never risk getting dragged into this for something so petty."

"You ignored my representatives." That was flat, cold.

"You sent humans." Humans negotiated with other humans. Sending a human to talk to him was an insult, and one America hadn't been in a mood to deal with. "Humans, England, and they wanted me to join the war, not help stop it."

Re: Germany and America - WWI AU - The War to End All Wars 13 of ?

(Anonymous) - 2015-12-28 22:55 (UTC) - Expand

By the time the session ended, America had the pounding headache he'd feared. It wasn't England: once America had finished pouring out his soul to the older nation, England had agreed to negotiate in good faith, and enough of the gentleman remained despite everything that there were no more issues on that front.

No, what had America's head pounding was the certainty that his boss was trying to pull something dirty. He'd needed every bit of innocent charm he could project to get past the suspicions of the others – suspicions they'd arrived at because of what their bosses had told them.

Once he'd realized what Canada and Mexico were carefully not saying, America had opened himself a little more than usual to his people – he hated having to do it: it always made his head ache with the cacophony of conflicting beliefs – long enough to confirm that yes, Wilson was trying to turn this whole peace plan into something more suited to his agenda.

It was time his President discovered that being America's “boss” was more of a courtesy title than the kind of ruling position other countries had. That was how his Constitution worked: he, as the physical embodiment of the people of the United States of America was the President's employer. Well, his people were. Which kind of meant that he was.

It was hard to explain, but he understood it when George and Ben explained how it was supposed to work, and how he shouldn't use the override clause very often, because it would unnerve the rest of the world enough that they'd likely go after him because they all believed it was supposed to go the other way. The leader was supposed to rule.

America hadn't used it often, since he figured Tom had been more metaphorical with that stuff about the Tree of Liberty, and he was really sure he didn't meant watering it when a terrified soon-to-resign-for-health-reasons President wet himself. It had to happen now, though.

Bad enough that Wilson actually wanted to be involved in war and was favoring the Entente enough that it was embarrassing to try to face the Central Powers and claim he wanted a fair, neutral settlement – he did, but he was sure now that Wilson didn't – but for the man to go so far as to try to turn a peace treaty into a German surrender… Enough of America's people were German-born, or had relatives in Germany or one of the other Central Powers, that if it came to a vote on which side to favor the Central Powers would be slightly ahead of the Entente. And both well behind staying out of the whole mess.

He found Wilson in one of the offices – it was an actual office, too – that was usually occupied by someone in Netherlands' government, and pasted on an obnoxiously bright smile. “Mister President.”

Wilson gave him a flat-eyed, displeased look. “I thought you would be busy with the other nations.”

America closed the door behind him, took the three steps to the desk, and leaned forward, both hands resting on polished mahogany. “I was. It's very educational. Sir.”

His tone must have sent a warning: Wilson looked up, suddenly alert.

Too late: in the time it took the man to move, America had opened himself fully to his people, to his true self. Now he looked through his own eyes, a tiny presence all but overwhelmed by the millions of souls who were the United States of America. Who were him. Beneath them, the faint thread of his land, mountains and ocean and bay and plain and rolling farmland and heat and cold and all of it all at once, rain and sun and snow and dying and being born and every emotion he could name and all of it always there all the time always him and part of him and never truly apart from him.

Wilson pushed his chair back, half-rising. “What -”

“You forget, Mister President.” America's voice buzzed and echoed, the voice of millions channeled through one set of vocal cords. “You are employed by the people. You do not rule the people.” It was hard, teeth-clenching, sweating hard to pull the disparate voices of himself into his physical form, to focus them. “You have failed them.”

Wilson paled, fell back into his chair. His mouth worked, but no sound came out. His whole body arched in a spasm, then he shuddered and slumped forward. One side of his face twisted into an odd grimace: the other was slack.

America sighed and let go. Releasing his power, his nature, left his head pounding and his body aching, but there were more important matters to attend to. He knelt beside his President – knowing that the man would not be his President for much longer – felt for a pulse. There. It was weak, but present.

At least he hadn't scared the man to death. Scaring him witless was bad enough.

America sighed, and gathered the man into his arms. He'd need to get him to a hospital, then brief whichever human was next in the chain of command here. Not to mention make sure that person knew that he'd best follow the wishes of his nation rather than those of his President if he wanted to have a long, happy life.

He hated that part: it always left him feeling dirty.

#

Re: Germany and America - WWI AU - The War To End All Wars - 14 of ?

(Anonymous) - 2016-02-18 00:03 (UTC) - Expand

To America's relief, Germany said nothing about his late return to their hotel even though by then rumor had to have been buzzing about Wilson being rushed to hospital and his assistant spending hours in an emergency meeting with America. Rather, Germany simply asked if he'd eaten yet – he hadn't – and directed him to his room, where a meal was being kept warm for him.

While he ate, Germany said, “I have sent a telegram to the Emperor informing him of the situation and notifying him that you would not wish the negotiations to be discontinued. He responded immediately that our people would continue to work with yours.”

America looked up from his food, which he wasn't really tasting what with the echoes from opening himself to his people still buzzing through his body, and managed a tired smile. “Thank you. I appreciate that.” It wasn't fair to Netherlands or his people to just shovel what was certainly a fine meal into his mouth, but America needed the nutrition more than he needed to appreciate the taste. “My President's entourage know what is necessary: we will be continuing negotiations.” Something that wasn't a smile twisted his mouth. “They may even go more smoothly.”

Germany was silent for just a moment too long: long enough that he had to have guessed Wilson was trying to subvert the negotiations. “I hope so,” was all the young Empire said on that topic. “Things are contentious enough.”

That was the kind of understatement that counted as a lie. “I've informed Lansing of his new duties and made sure he understands what needs to happen,” America added once he'd finished the meal. “He's not exactly happy about it, but he'll negotiate in good faith.”

Both Germany's eyebrows rose, but he didn't ask what America had done to intimidate the man. “That is good. There have been… disturbing rumors.”

America nodded. “Beer?”

“Thank you.”

They sat side by side, America nursing his beer and trying to taste it properly while Germany clearly enjoyed his. It was one of Netherlands local brews, a light lager with a slightly bitter aftertaste which suited America's mood perfectly. “Oh, and I sent a telegram to the Vice President to let him know he needed to take over as Acting President.” He made a face. “I don't think the President will recover enough to resume his duties.”

Although Germany was clearly curious as hell, he said only, “Ah. I am sorry to hear that, America. It is never pleasant when one's leader is ill.”

“Yeah. It takes it out of you.” God, he wished he could confide in someone about what he'd done. But if he did, he'd horrify the oh-so-proper Germany and probably restart the damned war. “I knew he had heart issues.” He made a face. “I didn't expect him to have a major stroke on me.”

Germany nodded in sympathy, and – awkwardly, as if he wasn't sure how America would react – leaned over to rest a gloved hand on America's leg. “I really am sorry to hear that. How are you holding up?”

It was a nice gesture, America thought. Sweet of him to try to be thoughtful and kind even though his nature was much more businesslike and practical. He wasn't going to call the younger nation out on the awkwardness of it, not when he'd been just as bad until Prussia, France, and Spain cured him of most of his inhibitions. Well… Prussia hadn't done anything, but France and Spain were the main reasons America wasn't an awkward virgin anymore. The two of them were depraved as fuck, but they knew how a nation's body worked, and they taught him everything they thought he needed to know – while explaining that Prussia couldn't teach him this because the pale nation never initiated sex, ever, and would be a virgin if he hadn't been conquered as often as he had.

“America?” Germany's concerned question broke him out of his thoughts.

“Sorry.” America managed to dredge a smile from somewhere. “Just tired. It's been one of those days, you know?”

“Ah, yes.” Germany bowed in his seat. “If you have no objections, I shall leave you to rest. I daresay tomorrow will be another such day, although I hope no other leaders take ill.”

“Me too!” There was no danger agreeing to that. He hated having to terrorize his leaders. Bad enough that he'd needed to scare the spit out of Wilson, but it really made him feel dirty inside to have to threaten Lansing as well. The man might be an ass but he was still one of America's people, and he was supposed to protect them and look after them, not scare them into fits.

Even though they deserved it. Maybe especially not because they deserved it. It wasn't like you could have a population of saints, after all, and the sinners were his people as much as the saints were and the ones who were somewhere in between.

America had never really got the hang of how religion was meant to work: there were just too many different beliefs competing in his lands. The old tribal beliefs, some really weird stuff where Algonquin and pagan Norse had come together, every non-conformist Christian sect the world had ever spawned, even a few Freethinker groups who didn't actually believe in any kind of god, and that was without considering the Buddhists and Hindu and other Asian faiths – he didn't have many believers of those, but they were still there. Still part of him.

It wasn't something where he could pick out a common thread and go with that, either, so mostly he stuck to what Tom and Ben and the others had said: there was definitely some kind of Creator, and He wanted His children to do the right thing – and do things right – but it was up to each person to do the best they could, and that applied to personified nations as well as to mortal humans. The rest of his people's beliefs kind of swirled around America's mind and he did his best not to look too closely because it would make his head ache from all the contradictions.

Nations with bosses who actually bossed and more or less state-decided beliefs had it easy. The king says the nation is Catholic, the nation is Catholic. The king changes his mind, the nation changes religion. Mostly. Prussia hadn't, but as far as America could tell, Prussia was kind of a special case to the European nations.

Not only had he been an order of crusaders before he'd become a nation, he'd turned around and gone from a Polish fief to a world power in a hundred years, then built an empire and given it to his brother. Nations didn't do that. They held power by any means they could and didn't let go until forced. To willingly give up power when you had the strength to take on the whole world?

No wonder Prussia worried the other European nations.

America didn't care. Prussia was kind of a big brother to him, and a friend. If he wanted to make himself his little brother's subordinate, that was nobody's business but his.

With such thoughts running through his head, it was a wonder America slept at all.

Re: Germany and America - WWI AU - The War To End All Wars - 15 of ?

(Anonymous) - 2016-02-29 06:45 (UTC) - Expand

The second day of the peace talks was mostly an improvement: America pretended he didn't hear the gossip about his President's health and between him and Germany - and Switzerland threatening to shoot anyone who tried to mess up the peace conference (America had to stomp hard on his snickers over that. Shooting up a peace conference, heh. Irony and all that), by the time they broke for the second day, all the nations were ready to take their agreements to their bosses or the representatives of said bosses.

From what America had picked up checking in on Lansing's thoughts, the various ambassadors and leaders were a lot less willing to accept that their nations were able to negotiate a decent plan. Apparently the nations were seen as immature, reckless, and even sometimes children.

As if.

He whispered a few things to Switzerland, who nodded and even cracked a small smile, then he turned to Germany and murmured, “We're going to need to give the humans a bit of a scare to get them to agree to this. Will you follow my lead?”

Germany blinked, then he nodded. “Of course, America.”

The immediate trust helped: this wasn't going to be easy on any of them.

Soon, the lead nations of the Entente gathered near the central table, and America lead Turkey, Austria, and Germany over, with Prussia trailing his brother but keeping quiet.

France looked more than a little suspicious, and England was frowning, but Russia wore a real smile. “We are showing our leaders why we play, America?”

America nodded, not bothering to hide anything now. “They think we're immature. Children. Meanwhile, we've come to an agreement, and they're still arguing over precedence and national pride.”

England's green eyes glittered. “You do realize what you're asking.”

America offered another nod. “That's why I'm going first,” he said. “I'm neutral in this, but it's still hurting me and my people, and besides, what better proof of good faith can I give?”

France studied him for a moment, then glared at Prussia. “I would prefer not to deal with him.” As always, France spoke in French.

Prussia shrugged. “I've told you more times than I can count that the coronation site wasn't my idea. Besides, I have to do this. You'll see why.”

Germany's blue eyes softened when he regarded his brother. “You need not, Brother. I can hold them for long enough.”

A crooked smile twisted the elder nation's lips. “You need a clear head, West. The others don't know how to do this, and that leaves me.” It had the feel of an old argument, one Germany wished he didn't always lose.

Germany sighed. “As you will, Brother. You always do, anyway.”

France frowned, looking thoughtful, but he didn't have any more objections to make.

“Let's do this.” America pasted on his brightest grin and did his best to pretend his stomach wasn't knotted up with nervousness. He wasn't just going to make himself completely vulnerable in front of a collection of mostly unfriendly humans. He was doing this in front of other nations.

Nations like England, who had never hesitated to take advantage of anyone's weaknesses. Like France who could and did manipulate others without shame. Like Russia, whose sheer size and strength was phenomenal.

Best not to think about that, America reminded himself. Think about the goal here: stopping this war properly, in a way that ensure there were no new wars any time soon. That was more important than his comfort.

Telling himself what he was aiming for was enough to get him into the larger room holding the human peace talks. The amount of shouting and banging of fists on desks was enough to put the nation gathering to shame, which made America feel a little better. When the people who called you immature didn't act any better it was a bit reassuring.

“Gentlemen.” He pitched his voice to cut through the noise – Prussia had taught him that one years ago - “We have reached agreement.”

The shouting stopped, and the delegates with their fists raised lowered them. They all glared at the group of nations, but it was the English representative – who wasn't England's Prime Minister but one of the Ambassadors – who spoke. “England, you weren't authorized to agree to -”

That was enough. America frowned. “With respect, sir,” he said without any respect at all, “You forget that we are our land and our people. We suffer from wars far more than you would believe.”

Lansing had gone pale and was whispering urgently to a man America thought was the German delegate.

America opened himself to his people enough that he felt the unending ebb and flow of life in his lands without it completely overwhelming him. Holding it there hurt, and he could tell he was shaking where he stood. It was easier to open the link completely than to hold it half-way like this. His voice had odd echoes when he said, “We know everything our people know. We feel everything our people feel. If enough of them are hurt, if a big enough disaster strikes our land, we bear the wounds.”

Switzerland nodded. “My people will starve this winter without this peace.” His form seemed to shift, carrying echoes of mountains and quiet desperation. “You can provide me as much as you wish, but I will feel every pang of hunger.”

Germany stepped forward now. “Every one of my people who dies in battle hurts me,” he said in a voice that was too calm, too quiet. “But it is my brother who bears the scars so I may still serve my people.”

France's hissing intake of breath and England's gasp seemed to mingle together before Prussia's harsh laughter echoed through the richly-appointed room. “You asses think it's all about you, don't you?” He strode forward to the center of the room, by the table bearing another copy of the map showing where land was to be allocated in the proposed peace. With each step, he seemed to grow and shift, the air around him hazing as blood bloomed on his shirt, his pants. A terrible gash appeared across his face, showing bone. “This is what you do to us,” he snarled. “Your needless wars, your petty feuds… You call us children because we try to escape this as much as we can so we don't drive ourselves insane with pain we can't stop feeling no matter what we do, and then you go and you do it all again!”

France shuddered. He said nothing as he moved to stand beside Prussia, to support the other nation, but a sad smile touched his face, and blood began to seep through his white shirt, staining it red in a line that ran diagonally from his right shoulder to his left hip.

Tight-lipped and glaring, England joined the two nations in the center of the room. Blood stained his green uniform dark, and burns appeared to cover much of his face. “Authorized, Ambassador?” His voice was soft, silky venom. “My true authority comes from my people, not you.”

Russia nodded. He wore his unsettling little smile as he joined the trio of nations, cold air leaving a frost trail in his wake. With each step, he unwound his scarf a little further, revealing old bloodstains and fresh ones, and hideous scars marking his neck. Some were bleeding, and more blood bloomed across his coat, dark red against cream. “Is very painful, when our people hurt,” he said in a soft, sing-song voice. “When my boss is ordering me to shoot my people, is hurting so much my heart falls out.”

America drew a shuddering breath, glared at the assembled ambassadors and delegates. “And you,” He didn't try to hide contempt while Austria joined the group of nations, pale-faced and limping. “You only care about your own goddamn power. You argue points of order while your fellows are dying.” Now his voice rose to the thunder of the mighty storms that ravaged his lands each year. “It ends here. There will be peace if I have to spank sense into every man in this room.”

The German delegate rose, walked over to Prussia with that odd gait the old-school Prussians had that wasn't quite a march, but wasn't really relaxed enough to be called walking. He bowed to Prussia, a deep bow, then dropped to one knee. “Forgive me for my blindness, my Nation.” With a half-turn to Germany, he added, “My Empire.”

Prussia's mouth twisted. “Always,” he whispered in German, so soft America could barely hear him. “Just remember this. I ask only that.”

America swallowed. All of them were selfish creatures, unless their people were involved, but for their people… they'd do anything, endure anything. He hadn't expected anything so moving when he'd started this: he'd thought only to shock the humans into listening to their nations.

Instead he found himself caught in a wave of something he couldn't define, something that mixed national pride with a sudden awakening to what the nations actually were, an understanding that they weren't just immortal pranksters, that their traditional roles as advisers existed for the simple reason that every nation knew the mood of his or her people. Couldn't escape the knowledge. Hell, they reflected the mood of their people unless they were able to block it, and sometimes not even then. The personalities, the parts of them that were individuals and not the physical expression of their people, those could so easily be overwhelmed no matter how much all of them tried to be individuals, to have something resembling free will instead being forever bound to their land and people and leaders.

Not that America expected this to last. He'd once horrified Congress with a demonstration of what the Civil War was doing to him, and it hadn't done much to change things. The carpetbaggers still left a legacy of bitterness and resentment that would be working itself out over centuries.

It just had to last long enough. Long enough to get the blasted treaty signed and the tentative cease-fire transformed into a lasting peace.

#

Re: [Part 27] Re: Germany and America - WWI AU - The War To End All Wars - 16 of ?

(Anonymous) - 2016-05-01 06:47 (UTC) - Expand

Germany grew steadily – and obviously – more nervous as he and America retired to their hotel suite, where Prussia excused himself to go drinking with Netherlands and Denmark, or at least that was what he said he was doing.

The real reason for his departure was to allow America and Germany some privacy in the matter of sealing the peace treaty – which did need to happen tonight, now that they had everyone's signatures on the treaty. America was thankful the terms only required him and Germany to have sex: for all the other nations a simple signature was sufficient.

Even at his most hedonistic, he wasn't interested in doing the entire world, and he certainly had no desire to participate in a whole-world orgy.

For nations, sex had other effects than the obvious: it not only bound them closer together, it bound their peoples together as well. That was probably the reason for the whole conquest and occupations rights thing: the winner wasn't just dominating the loser in the sexual sense. The winning nation was effectively forcing the loser's people to accept whatever the victory terms happened to be.

Supposedly it was less traumatic for the loser than it would be for a human, as long as the winner didn't go out of his way to be an ass: America preferred not to find out if this was true. Bad enough that the very nature of his kind meant there would be no secrets between him and his partner for months after – he really hadn't wanted or needed to know just how perverted France and Spain thankyouverymuch – but to force that level of intimacy on another nation? No thanks.

He did order extra olive oil and let the staff wonder about his taste in food. There were certain practical aspects of being a singleton that he'd had to figure out for himself, including that extremely drunk nations actually did have difficulty knowing if they were in the right place, as it were – which had saved him from having to reveal that little fact to anyone until he'd told Prussia and Germany. Well, that and a little of Raven's trickery to help blur memories.

He might pretend to know nothing of his first peoples' magics, but he remembered enough.

Germany's nervousness grew as they ate, despite America's efforts to help the other nation relax. Possibly because of them: America wasn't the most tactful of nations.

Finally, Germany gulped down an improbable amount of wine, and said, “We should do this.”

America smiled. “Sure. My room or yours? I'm fine either way.”

That derailed the other nation's Dutch courage: he'd evidently expected America, as the senior partner in the alliance, to take the lead. He flushed scarlet. “I… uh… Your room?”

“That's good. Did you want to top first?” If his own experiences were anything to go by, Germany would be much more relaxed after he'd done the deed, and would likely prefer at least the semblance of control being on top would give him.

Germany's mouth fell open. It took him several attempts to force words out. “But… you… you said...”

America waved a hand as he rose from the table. “Oh, the other hole works just as well.” He picked up the olive oil. “You just need to use a decent amount of this before you make your entry, as it were.”

Germany buried his face in his hands, his ears bright red. “Isn't that…”

“Dirty?” God help him, Germany actually was a virgin. There was no way he would be that embarrassed if he'd done the deed when his brothers came under his rule. That meant he'd be coaxing a nervous virgin through treaty sex. “Not if I wash real good.” He grinned. “Look, I'll go wash up now. Why don't you get comfortable in my room, okay?”

Germany was almost pathetically grateful to hear something that sounded like instruction: he nodded and stood, still blushing fiercely.

America couldn't help himself: he winked. “There's a spare bathrobe in my room,” he offered. “We're about the same size, so it should fit if you don't want your natural wonders on display to start with.”

Okay, that probably wasn't the smartest thing to say. Nations couldn't really die of embarrassment, but Germany was making a creditable attempt.

Re: [Part 27] Re: Germany and America - WWI AU - The War To End All Wars - 17 of ?

(Anonymous) - 2016-06-22 23:45 (UTC) - Expand

Author's note: Treaty sex part 1, complete with interesting geography and nation erogenous zones

America wasn't all that surprised that when he emerged from the bathroom, Germany had taken his suggestion as though it was an order, and now sat perched on the chair by the desk, wrapped in a dark red bathrobe.

Rather than tease the other nation, America shed his bathrobe, pulled the covers back on the bed, and sprawled out. “How about we start with a little game of find the zone?”

Germany's blank expression – and fierce blush – told America he had no idea what that meant.

Since America had half-expected that, he shifted quickly into an explanation. “See, every nation has this spot that acts like a normal erogenous zone, only way more potent. You're gonna explore my lands until you find it.” He grinned.

The intensity of that blush left America wondering if nations could spontaneously combust. Because if it was possible, Germany would. Even his ears were red. “E...explore?”

America lowered his voice a bit. “Your hands. My body.” He lifted his hands to clasp them behind his head, giving the other nation a good view.

Germany flinched, looking stricken. “You… your heart...”

Oh. Right. America offered a smile that he hoped would be reassuring. “The scar?” He'd be surprised if anything else had generated that reaction: the ugly scar running from under his left arm to his right hip with a thick ridge that crossed his heart wasn't exactly a pleasant thing.

Germany nodded and swallowed.

“It's from my civil war,” America said. “It doesn't hurt anymore.” Not much, anyway, not compared to what things had been like during the war.

The younger nation shuddered. He sat carefully on the bed beside America, tentatively reached a hand out. “May I?”

“Sure.” It occurred to America that this was the first time he'd had sex with another nation since his civil war, and he had no idea how he'd react to a nation touching that scar. Well, too late to back out now.

Germany's light touch was almost ticklish, warm, and when he traced the scar America knew the war years again, the pain, the need of his people, the betrayal when his sister joined the southern states… And then the slow reconciliation, relief that brother would no longer fight brother in the name of a war that nobody had really wanted. The way Ginny had looked at him with that mix of defiance and fear and how she'd relaxed when he'd just hugged her and welcomed her home. It was the same with the other southern states, but they'd all settled down over time.

“So divided,” Germany murmured, “Yet you can still be one nation.” He rested one hand over America's heart.

In that touch, America felt not just the warmth of human contact, but the connection of two nations: the many people whose ancestry and first language was German, whose hearts beat for him and for Germany. He smiled. “E pluribus unum.”

“From the many, one.” Germany whispered the translation as though it were a hymn. “I don't know how you can be so strong.” His hands moved south, exploring the sweeping plains of the South-West before skimming past Florida. “So rich.”

In all honesty, Germany's awed praise was as arousing as his gentle touches. “Everything is just so big...”

It was all America could do not to break the moment and bust out laughing. His land was him, just as his people were him. He didn't think about the size crammed into a body just fractionally shorter than Germany's: it was just who he was.

Florida wasn't standing yet, but it wouldn't take long.

“Magnificent,” Germany breathed, his hands sliding up the east and west coast. “Your lands are magnificent, America. Your people are magnificent. You are magnificent.”

America's face heated. Praise wasn't something he knew how to take: it just didn't happen in his life. The warmth kindling inside him brought a softness to his expression, made him want to reach out and embrace the other nation.

He kept his hands behind his head, fingers interlaced. Germany needed to set the pace this time: if all went well, there'd be time for embraces and snuggling later.

Now Germany explored the northern states, one hand discovering Washington's mountains and lakes, the other hovering over New England, while Germany crouched straddled over America, the edges of the bathrobe tickling America's legs and making him twitch. There was something in the other nation's expression now, a fierceness that spoke of kindling lust mingled with the warmth of affection. “You are so… enticing, just waiting for me to take you,” he murmured, face hovering so close to America their lips brushed when he spoke. “Would you… allow me to...” A blush, deep and so hot America could feel the warmth radiating. “May I tie your hands, America?”

Florida sprang to attention.

America had to try several times before he managed to say, “Yes.” He hadn't expected this, not from ever-so-correct Germany, and man did it ever do things to his libido.

Within moments, the tie of Germany's bathrobe wrapped around his wrists, tethering him to the bedhead. Not that America couldn't break it if he wanted, but he'd rather not risk damaging the bed or anything else.

Germany moved down to lie alongside him. “Much better.” One hand swept down the Midwestern plains, while Germany's breath teased America's left ear. “You look so very good like this.” His lips brushed the shell of that ear, slid over it and his tongue touched…

America gasped and shuddered, something almost like orgasm flooding him. His eyes opened wide and his breathing quickened. “God...”

The other nation all but purred. “There?” He swept his tongue in for another attack, leaving America quivering, helpless with pleasure, his legs and his land opening to welcome Germany inside.

“Nnnh… please.” Words came without thought, drawn by intense need. America's back arched, straining towards Germany as waves of pleasure washed over him, turning every nerve into an erogenous zone.

Germany swallowed, licked his lips. “I believe this is when I use the oil, yes?” He ran a finger over the spot, a little dimple behind America's left ear.

Yes, anything, just take me. America didn't know if he'd spoken or not. His rivers flooded with need, the Gulf wide and eager, open for invasion.

The sound of the bottle opening seemed awfully loud, the slick noises of Germany's hand against his own erection too far away. America strained to reach the other, to satisfy the desperate yearning for union Germany's caresses had awakened.

Then Germany shifted, lifting America's hips, parting his cheeks to fully expose the Mississippi delta. “Tell me if this hurts.”

As if anything like that mattered now: he needed Germany's heavy artillery invading the Mississippi, filling the river and flooding it. Pain didn't matter: only satisfying that desire.

America's eyes opened wide, his back arching. Heat and pressure and stretching not quite enough to be painful, filling him and sending shudders of pure bliss through his body, not quite enough to bring him to climax but close, so close. If he begged for more, he didn't notice, didn't care that his legs wrapped around Germany's body, trying to pull him closer, his arms straining against the cloth binding them.

Germany's eyes half-closed, hooded and glazed with pleasure. “God. My God.” He leaned forward reaching for the zone again, and America turned his head so he could reach it more easily, lost himself to pleasure and need once more.

Again and again, Germany thrust while caressing that spot, leaving America helpless beneath him, Florida trapped and painfully hard against the other man's body.

Finally, Germany gasped something that might have been a curse, or it might have been, “I'm coming.” His left hand wrapped around Florida, pumping hard while he thrust deep into America's valleys, and for a moment, a glorious handful of heartbeats, America and Germany were one, industry and farmland and city and shoreline united in their desires.

America let his head fall back, panting. “Man. You're good.”

Germany's blush spread down his chest as he reached up to untie America's hands. “You… are amazing.”

As soon as his hands were free, America reached for Germany, pulled him into an embrace. “So are you.” He kissed, gently, too tired for anything more. “Who knew… you'd turn into a sex god in the bedroom?”

“Don't.” If Germany could blush any harder he'd redefine 'red'.

Re: Germany and America - WWI AU - The War To End All Wars - 18 of ?

(Anonymous) - 2016-07-06 01:14 (UTC) - Expand

Author's note: more nation sex, with even weirder geography and some really really bad metaphors

They lay there for a while, simply snuggling and half-dozing. Partly formed wisps of thought drifted through America’s mind, his, his people’s and Germany’s. It was so long since he’d done this he’d forgotten how intense it could be, and he wanted some time to just bask in the sensations, the mix of lazy warmth and the sea lapping against the Florida coast with the chill shoreline of the North Sea and the ships steaming into ports on his and Germany’s coastlines.

They might seem different on the surface, him and Germany, but they had so very much in common. Both worked hard, both liked things to be right. They both liked to build things, to improve on existing designs and make new things; and to learn, to discover all there was to know.

America hoped this would be a lasting alliance: the isolation doctrine might keep his people out of Europe’s endless wars and the long and bloody history the European nations shared, but it also left him more than a little lonely.

His states weren’t his equals, and they were more than a little busy themselves. Canada and Mexico had their own issues, and besides, neither could compare to his population or his economy. America knew full well the only reason he wasn’t a global power was that his people didn’t want anything to do with the rest of the world’s business.

He rather hoped things could stay that way, although he doubted they would. The butcher’s bill for this war meant that his people would be helping Europe for years, rebuilding shattered economies and helping to make up for the loss of much of a generation of young men.

Hopefully the scars would be enough to remind the fool bosses what it meant to take a nation to war – not that America was overly hopeful on that front. Neither was Germany: America could feel the echo to his scattered thoughts and feelings in the nation in his arms.

The nation who had proven to be positively magnificent in bed.

As Florida began to stir, Germany shifted a little, and murmured, “Did you want to… continue?”

When America looked, he wasn’t surprised to see a blush on the other nation’s face: he’d noticed the warmth. “If you’re ready.”

“I… believe so.” Germany’s blush deepened, and yes, it did go all the way down his chest. “This… er...”

“First time?” America asked.

Germany nodded.

“I’ll take it slow,” he promised. “Tell me if anything I do doesn’t work for you, or if you want me to stop.”

Somewhat to America’s relief, Germany relaxed rather a lot. Doing this with a nervous partner wouldn’t be fun. If Germany was calm enough to enjoy things, that would be a whole lot better: America liked his bedmates willing and eager, not terrified.

“Thank you.” Germany sighed. “I… am not very good with emotional things.” He closed his eyes. “There is so much I do not remember, you see.”

That made no sense to America, so he waited until Germany spoke again.

“My first clear memories are from the mid eighteen hundreds, but I looked about ten or so,” he said. “I think whatever I knew about expressing or reading emotion was lost with my early memories.”

“That would be horrible, man,” America said sympathetically. “You must be always trying to figure it out the hard way.”

Germany blinked, staring at him. “You do not find this odd?”

America turned to lie on one side so he could look at Germany properly. “You are who and what you are. As long as you stay true to yourself, that’s all that matters.”

A small, shy smile touched the other nation’s face. “Thank you, America.”

America returned the smile. “You’re welcome.” Exchanging formalities while they lay side by side, buck naked in bed – after some of the best sex America had ever had – seemed kind of odd, but then, he wasn’t the most normal kind of nation anyway. He’d go with whatever Germany did, as long as the other nation was willing to at least try to give him the same consideration.

Germany shifted a little, not precisely uncomfortably. “Did you want...” He blushed, shifted again.

America let his smile soften. “If you want me to explore your lands, I’d love to see if I can find your zone.”

Damn that blush was enticing: Germany’s whole face was red, his ears were starting to flush as well, and the bright red was creeping down his chest. It was seriously cute – and ‘cute’ was a word America suspected nobody even thought could be used to describe Germany.

“I… please...” Germany swallowed, ducking his head. “I would like that very much.”

America let his hand rest on Germany’s side, taking in the warmth of the other nation’s body, and the tingling feel of his people going about their business despite the lateness of the evening, the buzz of electric lighting and the rattle of trains and trams, the burr of automobiles. Whichever city his hand had found was a busy one.

He brushed his hand south, over rolling hills and farmland, towards the Black Forest and its hidden wilderness, moving to straddle Germany when the nation turned to lie on his back, blue eyes half-closed and a faint, contented smile on his face. And his vital regions half-standing, clearly enjoying the attention America was giving Germany’s southern lands.

The way a nation’s lands mapped to his body wasn’t always obvious or sensible – New Jersey was not one of America’s armpits no matter what people said – and this was proven as America explored: the industrial center of the Ruhr made Germany’s vital regions, his spine his railway network and not his mountains.

As America’s hands ranged northwards – more or less – Germany arched his back, allowing America’s hands greater access to the central uplands with their hills and forests and farms that stretched east to west, bordered by the forests and ranges of southern Germany and the northern swamplands and plains stretching to the North Sea and the Baltic Sea.

He slid one hand down Germany’s spine, found a small spot near his tailbone that felt… different.

Germany whined and his half-mast erection – the German portion of the rail line and the Danube from Munich to Vienna, really? - stood to attention.

“Mmm, like that?” America caressed the spot, teasing as Germany’s back arched and he reached up to pull America into a tight embrace, eyes wide open and glazed with pleasure.

They kissed, awkwardly at first then more naturally, lips and tongues exploring each other, finding caves and hidden places as America’s right hand explored Germany’s coastline and his left rubbed the spot without mercy.

“Please,” Germany gasped, the words tumbling from his mouth and vibrating against America’s skin, broken German please and God and wonderful and more and now damn you now, and America caught the words with his kisses, let his right hand slide down Germany’s western border.

He kissed his way south, down Germany’s flushed neck and chest as his right hand slid behind Germany’s balls to the slit, felt the moisture there where the Danube crossed the German border, and slipped a finger inside, to the rail line to the Ruhr teasing both as Germany bucked and strained beneath him, hands clawing at his back and shoulders while Florida rose and pushed hard against Germany’s thighs.

“Ready?” America positioned Florida at that hidden entrance, the one only later-generation nations had.

Germany growled something that could have been please or it could have been so help me if you don’t do this now I will kill you.

America entered quickly, his people, his industries, sliding into the welcoming warmth of Germany’s factories and farms and railways and people, a peaceful invasion of cruise ships disgorging tourists and workers, trains filled with travelers, of cultural exchange and exchange.

He curled his free hand around the Munich-Vienna line, stroking gently while Florida filled the Ruhr basin to capacity and then some, pulled back almost far enough to pull out before entering again, and again, building his pace while Germany held tight and shuddered against him, all control gone, his pace and force quickening until that hot, heavy tightness pulsed in the Panhandle.

One last quick burst of rough pumping and Germany came undone, the Munich-Vienna line spilling out while Florida flooded the Ruhr with America’s essence, and again that magical moment when the two were one, German and American together, united and strong and perfect.

The moment passed, America slumping onto Germany’s chest, not caring about the sticky mess they’d made or about anything, really.

“God...” Germany sounded as exhausted as America. “God in Heaven… That… was… wonderful.”

America tilted his head to meet Germany’s eyes. “You are wonderful,” he murmured. “So strong, so proud...”

They lay like that for some time, neither wanting to move or to break the mood. Eventually, America sighed. “We should wash.” He made a face. “This is going to be nasty if we let it dry.”

Germany chuckled softly, making his chest vibrate. “I thought I was supposed to be the one who was overly concerned about staying clean.”

Well, that was part of this kind of thing: traits would overlap a bit, and they’d know what the other was thinking for a while. “Things kind of… merge in this sort of union.” He offered a wry twist of a grin. “Don’t be shocked if you find yourself thinking like me.”

#

Re: [Part 27] Re: Germany and America - WWI AU - The War To End All Wars - 19 of ?

(Anonymous) - 2016-10-02 16:50 (UTC) - Expand

The awkwardness America expected from the morning after – knowing Prussia’s sense of humor as he did – never happened. Instead, he and Germany found a note left by the hotel staff saying that Prussia would see them at the signing ceremony this afternoon, and could they please make sure his dress uniform was sent to Netherlands house.

Germany saw to that while America set out the breakfast they’d been brought, putting the large kettle on to heat their morning coffee then cutting thin slices from the still-warm loaf of rye bread and setting out the spreads he thought they’d like to try.

Neither of them said much: they didn’t need to speak. Germany would start to ask America to pass a spread, only to find America handing the jar to him. Or America would reach for one of the blocks of cheese, and have it pressed into his hand.

Both nations smiled each time that happened: a little sheepish, but mostly just contented and happy.

America would have to thank Prussia for staying with Netherlands so he and Germany could have a little longer just being together. Resonating.

That was a good word for it. They weren’t really sharing each others thoughts, they just happened to be thinking more or less the same thing, wanting the same thing, like one soul shared between two bodies. The oneness would fade in time, probably slowly given how similar the two of them were under their very different public faces.

But for now, America and Germany would share the same goals, the same needs, and their peoples would be much more inclined to work together.

They even walked with the same gait when they left the hotel, America in his best suit while Germany wore his dress uniform. When America noticed, he covered his mouth with his hand to stop laughter bubbling over.

“Hm?”

“Man, we’re even walking the same.”

Germany didn’t laugh, but his eyes gleamed with amusement, and his small smile lurked at the corners of his mouth. “We should try not to do that.”

“At least in public, yeah.” It was the kind of thing that scared humans. The other nations would recognize the signs of a recent union and the polite ones would say nothing. The others… America expected some teasing, particularly in light of his long-standing isolationism. Whether they’d have the nerve to tease the strict, serious Germany was another matter, but whatever.

As long as all the signatures got on the treaty and nothing went wrong at the ceremony or the celebration afterwards. He’d be walking on eggshells until it was all final and settled.

Germany sighed.

“You too, huh?” America wasn’t really asking. “I’ll be glad when we can get on with the work part of this deal.”

“Yes.” They turned the last corner, seeing the Binnenhof and its complement of guards ensuring that only the nations, their representatives, and the humans staffing the building could enter. “This all seems rather pointless.”

“It is, for us,” America agreed. “Our people need something a bit more formal, you know? Something they can point to and say ‘This is what ended it’.” He shrugged, smiled brightly at the nearest guard and gave the name he used among humans, hearing Germany give his before they entered the courtyard. “It’s just how things work.”

Germany sounded unsure of himself when he said, “Brother always handled this for me before.” It sounded like an admission of weakness.

“You’re fortunate to have a brother like that.” America would have liked to take Germany’s hand, but they were in public, and the other nation was much more reserved than he was. Besides, men holding hands wouldn’t have been accepted even in his most licentious regions, and until they were inside the building, any onlookers would think them just men and not understand that they were nations whose rules were quite different. “I had to figure this out for myself.” He turned to Germany and gave him a quick grin. “If anyone asks, that’s why I went isolationist – it’s easier not to interact than to try to work out what to do without any kind of guidance.”

“And the real reason?” Germany asked.

America chuckled softly at the barely-controlled curiosity in the other nation’s voice. “Pretty much exactly what my first bosses said: we didn’t want to get pulled into a mess like y’all just had over here.” He snorted. “I’m actually kind of surprised it lasted this long. Usually you get some fool thinking he knows better within a couple of generations.”

As they entered the building, Germany made a sound that could have been laughter. “Bismark,” he said. “He said there would be peace in Europe unless some idiot in the Balkans started something.”

“Smart man,” America agreed.

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