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hetalia2009-10-13 11:02 pm
luv-blindly.livejournal.com) wrote in hetalia2009-10-13 11:02 pm
Entry tags:
[fanfic] Missing the Details
Well, my brain is going with ideas for an upcoming fic-a-thon (ignore the fact that it's going by prompts--I get ideas in the oddest places), but most of the ideas that I want to jot down require a good deal of researching and more time than I have tonight. Also, they would be far longer than this, and much more adult.
So instead, you get this cute little thing, inspired by a fill over at![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
hetaliasunshine .
Title: Missing the Details
Author: Me
Rating: K
Characters: Germany, Prussia
Warnings: None, other than this is silly.
Summary: Gilbert was usually good with the big picture, but details were often lost to him. Which is probably why the elder Nation came running to Ludwig when he faced a most pressing problem.
A/N: This is also partly inspired by my family's own experiences with these tricky little birds. (For the sake of this fic, Gillybird is a domestic canary). Also, I adore writing Prussia, so you'll probably see a lot more from me about him. Also, the shifting from past tense to present is intentional--I just messed up some tenses when I wrote it somewhat late last night.
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Ludwig thought himself a fortunate man, and his people a fortunate country. He could think of few other nations who had fought so violently against each other, and then against the world, and still managed to be one of the wealthiest nations in the world.
Of course, he couldn't remember back very far, but it didn't stop him from considering his fortunes. He had been surprised by the readiness with which the world had welcomed him back. It'd taken years, true, but he had stood before the others that day in 1975 with head held high. He had tried not to waver, but seeing former allies and enemies in one room unsettled him.
It hadn't been the Nations' idea, of course, but there they all were, in Rambouillet. Japan quietly refused to make much eye contact with America, and France made half-hearted attempts to not glare at Germany.
But Italy; rather, Feliciano (as Romano was too busy staring daggers into Ludwig) had rested his hand on Germany's and given a soft smile, and things had gone on.
Now, Ludwig was concentrating on familiarizing himself with the documents passing through the Bundesrat, praying that nothing too radical passed and that America and England would stop calling it 'Germany's House of Lords" or his "senate".
Technically, it was Prussia's House of Lords, but Germany had quietly taken the building from his elder brother.
It is while perusing this paperwork, the lines running together in front of him, that Germany hears the elder Nation return home. As he is wont to do, Prussia drops his things with a loud 'thunk' in the hallway, and calls out for his brother.
"West! Hey West! I'm home!"
Ludwig is almost surprised that he had not broken the bridge of his nose years before, as often as he pinched it, hoping for relief.
"In the office," he responds, voice quiet. It wasn't that he didn't appreciate his brother being back, his country whole again but...
It would have been nice if Prussia...well, "East" now...had something to do all day besides bother Ludwig (or Roderich, if distressed phone calls from Elizaveta were to be believed).
Germany expects Gilbert to wait somewhat noisily by the door, throwing paper airplanes and complaining of boredom until the younger sibling finally conceded to joining him to do something.
Instead, the elder Nation is holding a small box, frowning.
"Oi, West. He's not moving too much."
"What?"
Germany finally looks up from his papers, and peers into the box. Gilbert's ever-present little friend, a yellow bird of some sort, is resting itself on a small nest of bedding, looking somewhat listless.
"Do you think he's okay?"
Ludwig looks at his brother, who seems genuinely worried. The blonde nearly has to do a double take. He's never thought Prussia to be an especially sensitive man, but then again, this bird (and mentions of Hungary) always seemed to especially get to him. Gently, Germany reaches a hand in to lift the bird up.
It nips at his fingers, which he quickly withdraws. Instead, he makes to stroke the bird's back, which it protests with equal force.
"Well," Ludwig says, nursing bitten fingers, "it looks fine to me"
The frown still hasn't left Prussia's face, and he lifts the box from the table, and carries it away, muttering something under his breath. If he listens closely, Germany almost swears he hears his brother sniffling.
"You better not be dying. You're too awesome for that," Gilbert whispers to the bird, who merely regards him with its head cocked.
"I mean it! You belong to the super-awesome Prussia, which makes you impervious to this kind of stuff."
Prussia bites his lip and pets the bird, which gladly allows the touch of its master.
Prussia does not sleep for three days. As the sun comes up on the fourth, Ludwig swears he hasn't slept for that long either. When the elder Nation finally does conk out, Ludwig hazards a peek in the living room, where the Prussian had taken up residence for the last half of the week.
He sees his elder brother draped over the couch, brow furrowed. Gilbert doesn't relax too much more, even as his younger brother drapes a blanket over him.
The bird has situated itself in the same corner of the box, and is staring at Ludwig, who suddenly realizes he has never liked birds. Well, small ones, anyway. Eagles and falcons and all manner of predatory birds were his thing, but the small songbirds--he couldn't deal with those.
He dealt better with dogs, anyway.
Ludwig starts a pot of coffee, which prompts Gilbert to shift about on the couch. The bird does the same in its box, but this time, it scoots itself to the edge of the box, and down onto its master's head. Curiosity gets the better of the German, who peers into the box.
Where the bird once sat, two small eggs were nestled in the bedding. Ludwig looks at the bird, then at his brother, then at the eggs. His forehead meets his palm.
Gilbert had never been good with details. He always missed when others were trying to be subtle, and the world was fairly sure the former Nation didn't know the meaning of the word. Prussia was more a 'big picture'.
Which was probably why he had failed to notice that his faithful little companion was, in fact, a girl bird.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Canary info. They're sweet little birds, much nicer than the two parakeets my family also owns. For the record, ours didn't lay eggs because she was having chicks--I'm really not sure why she lays them, but she does.
G8 (formerly G7 and G6), a forum for the government's of the world's wealthiest nations. The first summit was held in Rambouillet, France. The meetings tend to draw a lot of ire, especially from anti-globalization groups.
The Bundesrat is the key legislative organ in the German law process. It's often compared the the US Senate and the House of Lords in the UK, even though it's really not the same thing.
So instead, you get this cute little thing, inspired by a fill over at
hetaliasunshine .Title: Missing the Details
Author: Me
Rating: K
Characters: Germany, Prussia
Warnings: None, other than this is silly.
Summary: Gilbert was usually good with the big picture, but details were often lost to him. Which is probably why the elder Nation came running to Ludwig when he faced a most pressing problem.
A/N: This is also partly inspired by my family's own experiences with these tricky little birds. (For the sake of this fic, Gillybird is a domestic canary). Also, I adore writing Prussia, so you'll probably see a lot more from me about him. Also, the shifting from past tense to present is intentional--I just messed up some tenses when I wrote it somewhat late last night.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Ludwig thought himself a fortunate man, and his people a fortunate country. He could think of few other nations who had fought so violently against each other, and then against the world, and still managed to be one of the wealthiest nations in the world.
Of course, he couldn't remember back very far, but it didn't stop him from considering his fortunes. He had been surprised by the readiness with which the world had welcomed him back. It'd taken years, true, but he had stood before the others that day in 1975 with head held high. He had tried not to waver, but seeing former allies and enemies in one room unsettled him.
It hadn't been the Nations' idea, of course, but there they all were, in Rambouillet. Japan quietly refused to make much eye contact with America, and France made half-hearted attempts to not glare at Germany.
But Italy; rather, Feliciano (as Romano was too busy staring daggers into Ludwig) had rested his hand on Germany's and given a soft smile, and things had gone on.
Now, Ludwig was concentrating on familiarizing himself with the documents passing through the Bundesrat, praying that nothing too radical passed and that America and England would stop calling it 'Germany's House of Lords" or his "senate".
Technically, it was Prussia's House of Lords, but Germany had quietly taken the building from his elder brother.
It is while perusing this paperwork, the lines running together in front of him, that Germany hears the elder Nation return home. As he is wont to do, Prussia drops his things with a loud 'thunk' in the hallway, and calls out for his brother.
"West! Hey West! I'm home!"
Ludwig is almost surprised that he had not broken the bridge of his nose years before, as often as he pinched it, hoping for relief.
"In the office," he responds, voice quiet. It wasn't that he didn't appreciate his brother being back, his country whole again but...
It would have been nice if Prussia...well, "East" now...had something to do all day besides bother Ludwig (or Roderich, if distressed phone calls from Elizaveta were to be believed).
Germany expects Gilbert to wait somewhat noisily by the door, throwing paper airplanes and complaining of boredom until the younger sibling finally conceded to joining him to do something.
Instead, the elder Nation is holding a small box, frowning.
"Oi, West. He's not moving too much."
"What?"
Germany finally looks up from his papers, and peers into the box. Gilbert's ever-present little friend, a yellow bird of some sort, is resting itself on a small nest of bedding, looking somewhat listless.
"Do you think he's okay?"
Ludwig looks at his brother, who seems genuinely worried. The blonde nearly has to do a double take. He's never thought Prussia to be an especially sensitive man, but then again, this bird (and mentions of Hungary) always seemed to especially get to him. Gently, Germany reaches a hand in to lift the bird up.
It nips at his fingers, which he quickly withdraws. Instead, he makes to stroke the bird's back, which it protests with equal force.
"Well," Ludwig says, nursing bitten fingers, "it looks fine to me"
The frown still hasn't left Prussia's face, and he lifts the box from the table, and carries it away, muttering something under his breath. If he listens closely, Germany almost swears he hears his brother sniffling.
"You better not be dying. You're too awesome for that," Gilbert whispers to the bird, who merely regards him with its head cocked.
"I mean it! You belong to the super-awesome Prussia, which makes you impervious to this kind of stuff."
Prussia bites his lip and pets the bird, which gladly allows the touch of its master.
Prussia does not sleep for three days. As the sun comes up on the fourth, Ludwig swears he hasn't slept for that long either. When the elder Nation finally does conk out, Ludwig hazards a peek in the living room, where the Prussian had taken up residence for the last half of the week.
He sees his elder brother draped over the couch, brow furrowed. Gilbert doesn't relax too much more, even as his younger brother drapes a blanket over him.
The bird has situated itself in the same corner of the box, and is staring at Ludwig, who suddenly realizes he has never liked birds. Well, small ones, anyway. Eagles and falcons and all manner of predatory birds were his thing, but the small songbirds--he couldn't deal with those.
He dealt better with dogs, anyway.
Ludwig starts a pot of coffee, which prompts Gilbert to shift about on the couch. The bird does the same in its box, but this time, it scoots itself to the edge of the box, and down onto its master's head. Curiosity gets the better of the German, who peers into the box.
Where the bird once sat, two small eggs were nestled in the bedding. Ludwig looks at the bird, then at his brother, then at the eggs. His forehead meets his palm.
Gilbert had never been good with details. He always missed when others were trying to be subtle, and the world was fairly sure the former Nation didn't know the meaning of the word. Prussia was more a 'big picture'.
Which was probably why he had failed to notice that his faithful little companion was, in fact, a girl bird.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Canary info. They're sweet little birds, much nicer than the two parakeets my family also owns. For the record, ours didn't lay eggs because she was having chicks--I'm really not sure why she lays them, but she does.
G8 (formerly G7 and G6), a forum for the government's of the world's wealthiest nations. The first summit was held in Rambouillet, France. The meetings tend to draw a lot of ire, especially from anti-globalization groups.
The Bundesrat is the key legislative organ in the German law process. It's often compared the the US Senate and the House of Lords in the UK, even though it's really not the same thing.