Hello all! In celebration of it being October 13th AKA the US Navy's B-day (236 years of amazing), I am posting 5 new stories! Because I can. I hope you all enjoy the spamming ;D

I don't know where the idea came from. But I like it. A lot. I hope you all do as well 8D

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia

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Russia had no idea why America refused to fight with anything but his precious guns. The young nation would freeze up and run after said weapon if it was knocked from his hand (as Russia had done many times) and even if the blondes legs were broken, he'd just continue crawling towards the gleaming metal rather than turn around and fight.

Did he have no self preservation?

Of course sometimes the blond could be taunted to the point where he would use his fists, but even then he had to be blinded by his rage and he still refused any other weapon available. Did he have an aversion to knives? Was he sickened by any wound that wasn't a bruise or a bullet hole?

Russia was aggravated by the nagging question. It came up every time he picked a fight with the American, silently squirming in the back of his skull whenever he disarmed the blue-eyed nation and watched the young man dive haphazardly for his weapon.

It wasn't even a particular gun he was sentimental over. America would dive headlong for his pistol as much as he would for his rifle or his machine gun or his shot gun. All of them seemed equally important and it was starting to infuriate the Russian that he couldn't figure out why.

"What is wrong with you!" He growled to himself, eyes on the other nation. He watched America bristle up from the words. Even if the perceived insult had come from nowhere the blond would defend against it as if it were an attack during one of their heated arguments.

"There's nothing wrong with a hero like me!" America's voice was haughty with pride and heavy with smugness, sitting up straight in his chair and meeting Russia's eyes in a way no other country really could.

Not even Russia's allies.

"There is something deeply wrong with you." The silver haired nation shook his head and growled again, fist clenching around his pipe. He needed to know why America refused to fight with all available assets. Why did the blond spurn opportunities in varied weaponry? There were several times Russia had lost hold of his pipe during their altercations and America had completely scorned the chance to take it up and break his jaw with it in a fit of irony.

In fact, in one such situation, the blond had specifically stepped over it and knelt for his gun instead which had landed further away. The opening had let Russia take up his pipe again and swiftly break the younger nation's leg.

The victory was bittersweet not for the fact that America had immediately turned around and blown his kneecap away at point-blank range, nor the way his obnoxious laughter rang out in victory, louder than the ricocheting blast from the gunshot.

No, it was bittersweet because Russia knew he'd only landed a hit because America had gone for the gun. If the blond had taken the pipe instead he would have gotten out of the fight without a single wound; a very rare victory.

So why had he gone for the gun?

"I'm not you, creepy-psycho-commie-bastard!" America's retort sounded distant to Russia's ears, unimportant and meaningless in the wake of the need for his question to be answered. He stood up and slammed both hands down on the table, his violet eyes blazing and lips thin in a serious expression that had the other countries shuddering in their places.

Pulling out his pipe he slammed that down on the table as well, the clatter of it loud in the suddenly silent room while he kept his entire focus unwaveringly on the blond in front of him. His lips curled up as he spoke, exposing teeth.

"Why do you never fight with anything but a gun you filthy excuse for an existence! You only use your own fists whenever you're completely gone with anger! You forgo safer routes just to continue using your weapon of choice, even at the cost of pain. Why?"

"Oh. That's all?" America blinked at him for a moment, unsure if Russia really had just gone overboard trying to figure out something so easy. It made him smile crookedly, feeling superior in comparison to the Russian nation. He leaned back in his chair until he could cross his hands behind his head and prop feet up on the desk. "I only use guns 'cause anything else would be too easy."

"...What." Russia narrowed his eyes at the blond idiot in front of him and tried to gauge whether that was a sincere answer or not. He finally gave up when he realized that yes, America was being truthful about the question. "Amerika, you are truly stupid."

"What?" America gave an affronted noise from the back of his throat, caught between growling and laughing at his arch-enemies reaction to him. He stood up and pulled out his gun, laying it on the table the way Russia had laid out his pipe and not noticing the way the other countries were beginning to inch away from him.

His entire focus, as always, was on Russia.

"If I used a knife or a pipe or something, I would win too easily." America explained, his slightly truculent attitude slipping into a pouting and thoughtful, pensive sort of atmosphere. He hadn't had to think about his reasoning in a long while. No other country had ever asked him about it so he'd mostly talked to himself about it the few times he consciously acknowledged it. "Because I'm so much stronger and faster. It wouldn't be fair."

"You are full of yourself." Russia sneered, expression darkening at the stupidity he knew he'd have to painfully swallow. America was a good actor and could hide things if he felt it necessary but he was usually so gullible and naïve that he'd tell the truth even to the most touchy things. "How is a gun slower than a knife?"

"Well I have to pull it out, aim it, and click the safety off. It's like giving you a heads up that I'm about to attack." America grinned as he spoke. He was pleased by his heroic reasoning. It was completely logical to give your enemy fair warning before you strike because who wants to win with a sneak attack unless you're a totally cool sniper hiding in a tree on a hill picking off bad guys? No one, that's who. "Plus there's a limited number of bullets I can carry on me, so you can always just try dodging until I'm out of ammo."

"You are still a fool." Russia shook his head, still not believing that America would actually willingly handicap himself just to give his foe a sporting chance. That was like handcuffing yourself before entering a fight.

"I am not!" America huffed irritably before rolling his eyes at the situation. Clearly a demonstration was in order, even if it wasn't heroic at all. Russia would just have to suck it up though it's not like it's his fault the stupid giant wouldn't let this go.

He began making his way around the table, circling up to Russia while the big nation followed him with his eyes. He stopped in front of him, Russia towering inches above him with the table to the side and chairs pushed out of the way.

"I just want you to know I don't normally do this 'cause it's not my style." America warned, a pout adorning his lips before he smiled his usual huge grin. "But you already knew that! This is just so you'll get why I prefer guns."

"What are you planning?" Russia asked suspiciously, violet eyes locked onto blue. America's smile was boyish and charming, his blue eyes vivid behind the glasses and hair a golden halo atop his head. It was aggravating just how much he looked like an angel sometimes.

Suddenly there was an intense pain in his chest, a lot like the ache that permeated out when his heart fell out but more fiery hurt than icy emptiness. With a glance down violet eyes saw an arm going through his front, buried elbow deep inside and likely having gone all the way through. He looked up to America again and furrowed his brows, seeing no visible change in the American at all. He was still smiling, his eyes were still shiny with good cheer, and his hair still glimmered as if he were the chosen one.

The only difference now was that the blondes arm was extended out and punching a hole straight through him.

Russia looked over his shoulder and saw his heart held within the cage of America's gloved fingers. The organ pulsed quickly, fluttering like a fragile bird caught by the predator. Funny, is that how he felt? It was so hard to tell when his heart wasn't within its rightful spot anymore.

"See?" America retracted his arm easily, as if it hadn't just gone entirely through the chest cavity of a fully grown man. He cradled the heart carefully, knowing that if he squeezed too hard he'd kill the Russian where he stood and that was a cheap way to win. "I can move any part of my body without the rest of me giving it away and I'm so fast you can't defend yourself. It's not fair."

"You don't deserve the power you hold." Russia remarked. So America was such a good actor that he actually forced himself to give away his movements during fights? Just how much of their battling was a farce on the blondes side? It was an unsettling thought.

He reached his hand out for his heart. The organ pulsed hard when his fingers brushed against America's and there was the faintest tingling in his low belly. Ah, perhaps it was not fright that made his heart flutter when America held his life in his hands so effortlessly. That was good. He hadn't liked the thought of being afraid of the stupid nation.

"Shut up!" America's face tensed and he reached for his gun before realizing it was still on the tabletop on the other side of the table. He pouted, crossing his arms instead. "Just because you like to sneak up on people and shit doesn't mean I do! I like fighting head on way better! I'm a hero, not a sadist!"

"Stupid." Russia pushed his heart back into the hole America had left behind, shaking his head with his usual small, childish smile. It was annoying knowing that America held so much power that he actually limited himself just to even the playing field, but it was also...

Enticing.

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Please leave a review if you liked it ;D I'd like to know what everyone's favorite part was, if you don't mind. I just am always really curious about it because I always have favorite parts in stories when I read fanfiction/books so. Please and thanks, love you allllllll :D