Þæs ofereode, þisses swa mæg (000_hester_000) wrote,
Þæs ofereode, þisses swa mæg

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And yet another fic: "Bureaucratic Fantastic!"

Title: Bureaucratic Fantastic!
Fandom: Hetalia
Characters: Prussia, teenage!Germany, Austria, Hungary.
Genre: Crack. Very, very crack.
Rating: ...Uh, PG-13?
Wordcount: 1650
Warnings: Ridiculous innuendo, and a kink that's so damn weird as to not even be kinky.
Summary: Teenage boys will be teenage boys. But as Prussia, Austria, and Hungary are about to find out, the young Germany has some exceedingly unnatural desires.
A/N: Praise be to the wonderful didgeridoodle for betaing and being awesome.

Bureaucratic Fantastic!

It wasn’t that Prussia was nosey; he wasn’t. Nosiness required a certain level of interest in other people, and he just couldn’t be bothered with that. Start thinking about others all the time and conduct your politics by arranging marriages, and where does that sort of behavior end? One day you wake up and realize you’ve turned into Austria overnight.

No, Prussia wasn’t nosey, and for a long time he hadn’t even thought twice about the fact that his brother seemed to spend hours on end locked in his bedchambers. Besides, Germany was so boring sometimes. He didn’t behave like a proper teenage boy at all.

Or so Prussia had thought. It was just that ever since he had— completely by accident, of course, since he wasn’t nosey— overheard his brother’s confession to the old priest... Well, he had started to get a little bit interested. And what exactly had Germany meant by, “I find myself giving in to... to... unnatural desires”?

And so today, since Germany had to go to another of his stupid bureaucratic meetings... Well, it had been so easy to sneak into his room, Prussia just hadn’t been able to resist. (It was easy for Prussia to sneak in, anyway. Maybe it would have been harder for someone else, like that little sissy bitch Austria, but Prussia was a master of stealth. Prussia was so stealthy that that one time, when he had snuck into Hungary’s tent while she was sleeping and tried to steal some of her undergarments... Well, he had almost gotten them. And it was a close thing, really. And honestly, the broken bones hadn’t been anywhere near as bad as everybody had acted like they were.)

...Plus, this whole thing was really starting to bother him: stolid, proper Germany, with his fussy little meetings and his military discipline and his paperwork to be filed in triplicate just didn’t seem like the sort to have wild, crazy fetishes.

Prussia looked around the room. It was, of course, meticulously neat, a combination of office space and sleeping quarters. There were about twenty stacks of paper scattered throughout the room, arranged in an extremely tidy way that made Prussia sure they must figure into some filing system his brother had devised.

He was about to sneak a peak under the mattress and start going through drawers in search of the evidence of Germany’s ‘unnatural desires,’ but before he had the chance, something caught his eye. It was a small bin, with a note on it that read, in worryingly neat handwriting, ‘Please, this container is intended only for garbage. Thank you.’ But that wasn’t what caught his attention. On top of the rest of the garbage was a large pink envelope.

Now, Prussia knew of only one person who used pink envelopes, especially pink envelopes with doodles like that all over them, but he picked the envelope up and started going through its contents just to make sure. Sure enough, it was from France. The thing about France was that he was multi-talented. He loved to write. He loved to draw, as well. He also liked to sculpt things from time to time, although nothing three-dimensional would have fit in an envelope this size, anyway. Still, this was clearly a sampling of his latest work, and Prussia did have to admire the variety. He had honestly never thought about hat pins like that up until he saw that drawing.

He flipped through the stack of thin volumes several times, just to be sure, but an unsettling thought was beginning to dawn on him: everything looked almost untouched; there were no signs whatsoever that anyone had read it before him, no bent corners on any of the pages. Prussia pondered what this meant for a moment, and then...

Three maids eventually had to quit their jobs and spend the rest of their lives sitting somewhere peaceful and quiet after having heard the bloodcurdling scream. Some of those who heard it said it was just a wordless, agonized howl, but others would insist for the rest of their days that they had distinctly heard the words, “HE THREW THEM OUUUUUUT! WITHOUT EVEN READINNNNG!”

Whatever the truth of the matter was, eventually someone was sent to take Prussia away and give him several good, strong drinks before his brother came home.

“The train ride was quite pleasant, really,” Austria noted as he watched one of the servants unpack his luggage and Hungary swing her frying pan back and forth absentmindedly but with somewhat worrying gusto. “The meeting itself was somewhat less so, of course. Prussia can be so hard to deal with. And he kept telling me about he had snuck into his brother’s room and discovered that he had thrown away some— some reading material France had sent him, and apparently this was a bad thing—”

Hungary was staring at him intently. She had stopped swinging her frying pan. “What sort of reading material?” she asked casually.

“It’s in here somewhere,” he replied with a resigned sigh, as he began to look through some of the as yet unopened luggage, “He insisted on giving it to me; I don’t know why. As if I would care. He kept acting like it were incredibly important...”

Austria shook his head and handed his wife the envelope. “Honestly, I’ll agree that it’s all very obscene— not that I read any of it all the way through, of course— but I still don’t understand why this qualifies as important news—”

France didn’t send me any of these,” Hungary said sweetly. The servant looked up nervously, walked out the door as quietly as he could, and ran for three days as far from Vienna as his legs would take him. He had experience in dealing with these situations.

Prussia knocked on the door, very loudly, ten times before he came to the conclusion, “All right, he’s not there.”

“However did you determine that?” asked Austria in what Prussia considered his whiny bitch tone, but was momentarily distracted from complaining further by the noise of Hungary kicking down the door.

“All right, men, here’s what—” Prussia bellowed.

“And women,” Hungary added.

“Huh? Okay, fine, sure. We can’t forget that there are ladies present. And Hungary.” (Austria scowled, but said nothing.) “Anyway. Ladies, gentlemen, and Hungary, here’s what we’re going to do. We are going to scour every fucking inch of this room until we find out what he means when he says, ‘Unnatural desires.’”

“And we’re doing this why, again?” Still the whiny bitch tone.

Hungary stood on her tiptoes— and it occurred to Prussia that it was slightly odd that her small stature had never made her any the less terrifying— and whispered something into Austria’s ear. He blushed furiously in return. “You... you can’t mean...! You’re not actually interested in this sort of thing—”

“Look, if Germany’s somehow discovered something that would put even France to shame...” Hungary said, smiling.

“Hey, we all got bored with farm animals centuries ago, right? It’s time for something new.” That was a joke. Prussia was simply making an inappropriate joke. That had to be a joke... right?

Austria was really starting to feel rather concerned. Perhaps it was time to investigate moving. Preferably to another continent. Was that possible?

A few seconds later, Prussia and Hungary were busy tearing apart the room while Austria watched and looked awkward. Or least, he did up until the moment when the mattress knocked him over; after that he just looked like a mattress with legs sticking out from underneath it.

“Goddammit! I knew it! Should have looked under the mattress the first time,” Prussia yelled gleefully, holding up a stack of papers. “Now, let’s have a look at what sorts of unnatural things my dear little brother has been wanking to. It says...”

He stared at it for a minute while Hungary looked on in obvious anticipation and Austria, having struggled out from under the mattress, looked on in obvious disgust. Then he rubbed his eyes and squinted at the paper.

“What the fuck? ‘...must be filed in triplicate no less than 10 days and no more than 30 days, three hours, and six minutes after receipt, in accordance with paragraph 72 of subsection F of...’ It’s just more paperwork! Really nasty, complicated paperwork! This whole thing is” —he squinted at it again— “Some sort of really insane receipt or something for a small box of pen nibs?”

Hungary picked up another stack and papers and looked them over. “They’re all like this! Look, this one needs to be stamped with the top secret seal of the Kaiser in red ink on the night of the full moon before it can be filed! And this one needs all 105 of the signatories to have notarized special—”


Prussia, Austria, and Hungary froze, then turned as one to stare at the startled-looking Germany standing in the doorway. He was holding another stack of paperwork. Well, holding was probably the best word for it, anyway, because normally, people don’t caress paperwork—

Everyone stared at one another in silence for several awkward moments, and Prussia pondered and rejected several snappy comments he could make on the situation, ranging from, Don’t worry, I’ll go write France and tell him to just send you some tax forms next time to I guess you really are going to end up married to your work, huh? Nothing quite seemed to fit.

“...We’ll just leave you to it, then,” he finally found himself saying with a sense of resignation and, while Germany held the door open politely, the other three filed out into the hall, their faces completely expressionless.

Germany is bureaucracysexual. THIS EXPLAINS EVERYTHING.

...Okay, not really, but it was worth a try.

Italy may be out of luck.
Tags: crack, fanfic, hetalia, hungary, that sissy aristocrat, we have ways of making you squee, what's eating gilbert weillschmidt?

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