So here's the setting~ this happened after the London blitz. A meeting between Nazi Germany and the British Empire. May have some things wrong in it. If there is I'll be glad to change it. This is not historically accurate. I may have some mistakes in it. My first angst fanfic…
Disclaimer: Hetalia doesn't belong to me~ if it does it would have fully shown Nazi Germany in it!
Warning: NaziGermany!Cursing, some blood play, some heavy kissing and major history spin-off! Have some OOC characters. May or may not be a failure as angst. This is a product of an overly activated imagination, too much candy and an insomniac mind. May have some grammatical and spelling error in it... Please continue reading!
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A petite young man was walking amidst the gravel. His naturally unruly blond hair is more uncooperative, sticking up more than usual, it was dusty and had particles of soot and ashes on it. His pale face was marred with dirt and small cuts. His normally fiery eyes were dulled with sadness and sorrow. For a moment, the personification of the United Kingdom was in pain but not because of the aches he was feeling due to the bombings and the war. No, Arthur Kirkland could stand that. Even if the bloody Nazis attack him everyday, hell, he will stand it.
For his beloved people he'll endure the pain. He doesn't care about the Government, he doesn't pay attention to the monarchy, something other nations would probably find ridiculous for he was a known supporter of it but not during war. He didn't care at all. All he cared about was protecting his people. He was fighting because he didn't want his people to suffer the same oppression France was now experiencing. Even if he hated France to his very core, Arthur couldn't help but feel sorry for the frog, though he'll never show it. He was the only remaining obstacle for that Nazi bastard, well at least here in Europe. He had no one to hold onto anymore, not that he ever needed someone. It was just comforting to know you're not alone and you have an ally in your side. China is too far away and he also have to deal with Japan. Russia was being uncooperative and does not show any concern to him or the rest of Europe except those under the giant nation. And America's boss just refuses to get involved. When France fell England knew…
He was alone…
England was currently walking in the middle of the destruction those bleeding Nazi bastards caused. Hell, Arthur hated them. He loathed how they act supreme, wanting everyone to follow them, eradicating those that were different, not giving them a chance. He wanted to kill them for what they did. But this moment was a moment of weakness. France and America would have a field day if the saw him like this. Hell, the world will celebrate and throw a large party even if there was a war going on. Arthur Kirkland, the personification of the British Empire, a man known for his stubbornness and hard-mindedness and even though he declares himself a gentleman, he was a known brute even though he had a rather small physique.
But he does not bloody care…
He failed. He failed to protect his country, his people, his beloved people whom he had sworn to protect. He failed them. Tears started failing on his pale cheeks. He was crying. As he stares at the ruins that was London, tears came to him. He could still recall their cries in his head, his people crying in fear, pain and agony. It had hurt him more than Germany could ever could…
"it hurts! Someone help us"
"help me..."
"Save us…"
In his reverie he let his misery swallow him. Not really paying attention to his surroundings. His guard was at its lowest level. He felt a massive headache and his vision slightly blurred.
"England…"
A cold unfeeling voice tore him away from his reverie. Green eyes wide, his body tensed. He recognized that dark and cold voice at once. The two had some meetings these past few years usually in the battle field. Every time they meet the man insists on keeping his eyes glued on him, never letting England out of vision. Arthur tries hard not to make eye contact. It wasn't because he was scared or anything. It was just that the man radiated a dark aura that seems to swallow everything in its path, it was the lust for power and Arthur didn't want to see it…
Eyes that seems to want to eat his soul. That was what had unnerved Arthur. Not the seemingly insane quest for power, no, definitely not that. After all he is also a power hungry Empire himself so he understood what desire for power is and it wasn't all that new. Lots of countries had done that and had been power-seeking bastards. It was how and why Germany does it that gets to Arthur. Even if England had killed lots of people even innocent ones, he never attempted to rid the world of any race other than his own even though he still thinks that British people were the most superior race. (hell, every nation thinks that about their own people) Of course, he is very patriotic. England never had put the locals of his colonies in camps and left them to die.(though he did kill America's native Indians) And England was never that insane (he was insane but not to Germany's extent) to think that by killing other races the world will be purge. Arthur and his people never had that "noble" reason or even thought about it and seeing something like that made Arthur's stomach churn in disgust.
Arthur wanted to stay like that, back turned away from the man he least wanted to freaking see. He wanted to ignore the man, in hopes he'll get bored and leave. But Arthur knew the man wouldn't leave anytime soon. He knew it when he felt that searing gaze boring through his back. It was warm but not the kind of warm that would make any sane person comfortable. It was scalding and it burns.
Due to the burning pit in his stomach, screaming 'Get your bloody act together and stop acting like such a nancy boy!' he turned to face the German who was now wearing a neutral look but Arthur saw the insane, power-hungry look on his eyes. It was flaring and it was undeniably there, just like the tense atmosphere slowly building around the two, mostly because of Germany's intimidating aura and stature.
"Arthur Kirkland…" the bloody kraut called his name. England stiffened a bit. His name sounded so foreign to his ears. England knew this was inevitable, the confrontation between him and Germany. After all he was the only one standing in his way. But for Germany to approach him in such a familiar way… It unnerved Arthur even more.
Still the English nation steeled his resolute. There was no way he'll let this man see he was faltering though it might be a little bit late for that since the man did caught him in his reveries. Arthur dismissed these thoughts. ' No, I'm the British Empire, I am not going to back down to this cretin!' he thought bitterly, mentally gritting his teeth out of frustration.
'There is no way I'll let this bloody kraut have the satisfaction of seeing me like this. The war isn't bloody over' England thought as he stare down the man, England's intimidation mixing with Germany's making the atmosphere between them more tense.
"What are you doing here, Germany? Aren't you supposed to be celebrating, drowning yourself in beer and eating your bloody, precious wurtz." Arthur said smiling to the blue-eyed man. It might sound like a welcoming statement, that is, if England's voice wasn't dripping with sarcasm but somehow it was losing its edge.
Arthur had to hold back a shiver, he knew his sarcasm was lacking its usual cutting edge and he was sure Germany noticed it as well, even though his face still wore that same cold, serious expression that the German wears so bloody well. In order not to get cold feet Arthur had to continue, to retort, to convince the man that he is not weak because if he doesn't… England might have to say goodbye to his people's future now.
"Why are you here you bloody bastard?" Arthur repeated his question again, no longer bothering with sarcasm.
"Are you here to gloat your victory to me?" England let out a hoarse mocking laugh. "Don't count your chicks before they hatch, boy!" his voice (not to mention his manners)resembling the bastard pillaging pirate he was before the start of this bloody war. Arthur knew his reputation was well known and he always feel smug when he hears people talk about it. England knew his accent and manners can send people running and cower in some dark abysmal place. Most of the time it came naturally but Arthur noticed that half of the time he does it purposely to scare other people, usually nations.
England felt his lips curl up to a sinister smirk when he saw Ludwig's eyes widen a little even though it was only for a few milliseconds.
Arthur's smirk was wiped off just as fast and his emerald orbs widen when heard the tall anthropomorphic personification of Germany broke into mocking fits of laughter. Arthur raised one of his rather impressive eyebrows at the man. England knew Germany was insane but he didn't exactly know where Germany's ever unstable thread of sanity actually lies.
When Germany stopped his rather uncharacteristic (not to mention totally mental) display of… Actually England didn't know what it was. There are just so many forms of insanity. Arthur wasn't sure if he wants to find out first hand just how insane this man is. A feeling of pity coiled in his stomach, for France and other countries that were under the madman.
As well as the feeling of irritation. The younger nation had the audacity to actually laugh at his face. He was the British Empire, goddamn it! It was down right degrading. Arthur's infamously thin and threadbare of a temperance snapped.
"What the bloody hell are you laughing at you demented kraut!" Arthur shouted at the German, voice trailing through the forlorn landscape that is the outskirts of London. His face was red due to the fury the German had instilled in him.
Arthur was about to spew more fire at the Aryan when he saw a glint in Germany's eye. It was dangerous and it was dark, cold but burning, scalding with the man's wicked desire. Arthur felt his stomach lurched, anger rapidly turning into fear in less than seconds.
It made England's knees weak. Arthur sort of wonders if this was how Francis feels whenever he was around Germany. But it really doesn't seem so. France still is the bloody pervert England knew. The French people still remained rebellious toward Germany and Germany practically has the personification of their country in some dark pit, letting him to rot there. Just thinking about how Francis' people rebelled against the Nazis made England believe France isn't afraid of Germany, though that means Francis gets more beatings from the man. If France isn't afraid… he shouldn't too. Right?
England snapped out of his reveries when he heard footsteps drawing closer. He turned back his head to look at the German country. (When did he turn?) Ludwig's eyes shone with sadistic amusement and it had that violent insanity look in it. His blond hair almost turned white due to the light of the waning moon. He wore a wicked smirk on his face. All in all, Germany radiated an aura of a crazed, demented man. A very creepy and intimidating mad man…
Germany continued to advance on England. Ludwig was only a feet away when Arthur had the courage to move, to step back away from the mad man who seemed to relish on England's alarm, that is, if his smirk turning more feral was any indication.
England attempted to secure a safe distance from the other nation but when he attempted to inch away, Germany's long arms shoot forward and his large hands clamped to his shoulders rendering him immobile. Arthur flinched when he felt Ludwig's fingers sink into his skin, the pressure it put to his shoulders was unbearable. It bloody hurt. He looked away from Germany's face and turned towards the man's hands, thinking of a way to get them loose.
"You're mine"
England's head whipped back toward the German, not believing what he had just heard." What the bloody hell you talking about you blood kraut!" Arthur's eyes grew wide when he saw Germany's expression. Germany's eyes are glazed with a predatory look in them, his lips formed into a scornful smirk. Arthur felt himself shiver as the man pushed him to the ground.
"You will be mine"
Ludwig pushed Arthur to the ground, grabbing Arthur's wrist and pinning them above the man head using only one hand. He loomed above the man a he felt the man tremble beneath him. It excited him to see the all powerful British Empire under him. Ludwig prodded a knee in between the man legs, silently threatening Arthur to stop struggling, nonetheless Arthur just struggled more. Ludwig let out an amused chuckle at the shorter man's futile struggle.
Arthur continued to writhe underneath Germany, trying to get the man's weight off his person. He tugged at his wrist, making Germany grip them harder. Germany's knee was dangerously close to his crotch, cold sweat starting to form in his forehead.
Arthur's breath hitched when he saw Germany leaning towards his face. He tried to jerk away but he when he tried, Germany had gotten hold of his chin and yanked it back towards him. Arthur had hold in his breath when his green eyes came face to face with Ludwig's blue ones, Germany's eyes still held that dangerous look in them. The hand on his chin gripped harder and his smirk widened. Arthur struggled even more to throw the man off of him.
"Let go of me, you bloody kraut! Or I'll-"
Arthur was cut off by a mouth covering his own. He felt something wet darted pass into his mouth. It was… sort of slimy. It didn't take a genius to guess what it was…
'It's the bloody bastard's tongue!' England cringed at the intrusion. He tried to close his mouth, to bite the man's putrid tongue off but he couldn't do so because of the pressure the man's hand puts in his chin. He cannot yank his face away from the man nor can he close his mouth because of the pressure that was forcing it to open in the first place.
Germany's tongue explored Arthur mouth, roughly bruising the older man's lips. The kiss was full of tongue and teeth. Arthur shivered at the feeling of Germany's tongue in his mouth. It is as if the man was trying to devour him whole. Arthur tried to get his own tongue away from the invader but it could only go so far. Ludwig's tongue slithered to his and intertwined his tongue with it. Arthur felt a something drop in his stomach, it felt like a ton.
There was only one coherent thought in England's mind 'Goddamn it! Germany's invading! I'm being invaded!' It felt like Germany is devouring him, England, whole. He felt the man suck his tongue. A feeling of disgust overwhelmed Arthur as the Ludwig continued pillaging his mouth.
Ludwig continued to devour the Brit's mouth. The Englishman tasted amazing. Even if Germany had always let his imagination run wild, thoughts of how the Empire will be like when he is underneath him, how he would taste, the fear, the ferocity of this man, he wanted all the man had… All of it…
The Englishman sort of tasted bitter, Ludwig guess it was because the man drank tea all the time. But the bitter taste mingled with the man's own taste, it was exquisite. It was not that bitter really, Germany had tasted lots of other things that are much bitter. No, it had a fierce bitterness in it but also had a faint sweetness, a tender sweetness, so faint that you'll never notice if you don't pay attention. It was a gentle sweetness that complements the bitterness pleasingly. It reminded him of dark chocolates… although the taste was nowhere near chocolates. It was just that even though it's bitter, the man's naturally sweet taste blended with it although it is not overwhelming the bitter taste. It was just breathtaking, it was addicting like a drug…
It resembled the Englishman, Fierce but has an underlying tenderness underneath… Vicious yet has an alluring charm in him.
Arthur started to sway his head away from the man. 'No! I'm not just going to lay here and let myself be run by a bloody kraut!' he swayed his head wildly, successfully irking the German. Ludwig retracted his tongue out the Brit's mouth, a strand of saliva still connecting the two. He growled at the Brit. He let go of the man's chin and threaded his hands through the man's sandy lock, gripping it tightly, pulling the man to him roughly. Germany looked at the Arthur. The Englishman had a faint blush on his face, his emerald eyes glazed but still had that burning flame that enticed the German. Arthur was panting, Germany didn't know if it was because of the kiss or the struggling but it doesn't matter.
Germany leaned in, capturing the shorter man's mouth again. England yelped at the action. Germany just continued to explore England's mouth, his body looming over the Brit's. Ah, he'll going to make England his. To have the Empire bow down to him, it was…
A searing pain made Germany flinched. England had bitten his tongue. He could feel England smirk. Ludwig could feel his tongue bleeding but he didn't pull out, instead Germany roughly pulled England's head by the hair, closer to him. Ludwig had bitten Arthur's upper lip until blood had flowed inside Arthur's mouth. He felt Arthur cringed from the pain. Ludwig smirked.
Arthur had bitten Germany's tongue. He smirked, expecting the taller man to pull away due to the pain. After all he did bit the German pretty hard, although now his mouth tasted like shite because of the kraut's blood. What he didn't expect was a violent yank on his hair. Arthur involuntarily yelped when the bastard Nazi bit his lips. He could taste his own blood. Arthur felt Germany's tongue pass again through his bloody lips. He could feel the smirk the German had. Arthur started to struggle, kicking the man. Germany just put more weight at the man legs to render them immobile.
'Mein Gott, this is wonderful.' The combination of England's taste and his blood is enticing. Germany growled at anticipation. The taste of England's blood was… heavenly. It made Germany want him more. He skirted his hands under the man's uniform.
England felt Germany's hands under his clothing. 'No! I'll not surrender like this' spirit once again ignited. He kicked the man's back, hard. It seems that the man was preoccupied with his mouth that he didn't notice England untangling his knees away from the man.
Germany was thrown off. He was disappointed at the lost of that taste. He glared at the man who was not standing up, wiping away the blood on his lips. His eyes had the flaming spirit back. Again, it enticed Germany but it was still his fault, he had been too careless. England glared at him, hatred and animosity in his features. Somehow, Germany thought it looked pleasing in the man.
England glared at Germany "You bloody bastard…" Germany just remained calm, not being affected by the man's bloodcurdling statement.
"I'll die before I surrender to you!" acid dripping in every word England said. "I'll die before I'll be yours, you son of a bitch!"
Germany smirked. He had never heard England curse like that. The look on his eyes was burning. It was blind determination but it is dangerous. An evil aura surrounded the Brit but nonetheless Germany is indifferent to it. Instead he threw a condescending smirk at the smaller nation. True, England might be scary but Germany will do anything to have him. He will have him. France is out of the way and England was alone. His so called "allies" useless. The man had no chance at all.
"Hmmm… Is that so?" Germany frowned a little. "But I'll make sure you'll suffer first" sadistic smile back again. He stared directly at the emerald eyes of the Englishman.
"I'll make you eat those bloody words, you kraut" Arthur said dusting himself off. He was the British Empire. He'll not go down without a fight.
Germany's smirk widened at the prospect. He turned his back at the Brit, still feeling the glare being sent to his direction. It was time to prepare for another assault. Should he invade already or should he launch another bombing attack at England. It was so hard to decide. The prospect of the empire surrendering to him was much too engaging really…
"Perhaps, Arthur, perhaps…"
Fin~
My take on Nazi Germany! I have this head cannon that during the WWII, Nazi Germany really wanted England *Totally obvious* I had wanted to do a story for this pairing for quite a while really but I'm such a lazy arse to do it, hahaha. I really love Nazi Germany! I only realized it now.
There you go folks. Please review and tell me if I did justice on writing Nazi Germany because I want to write another one! Also tell me if I failed on the limey scene and the blood play, or the Angst. First time writing or even thinking of writing any of it really... Thank you for reading, sorry for the mistakes.