So, does country slash count as fanfiction or original fiction??

Warning: Antropomorphised countries and slash, yay.

For those of you who lack some history lessons on South America: This is set a little moment after Paraguay's war. Violence. Blood. Insinuation of the gay raep? Brazil anexing some of Paraguay's territory if you know what I mean.

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ESPÓLIOS DE GUERRA

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Paraguay had been beautiful one day, he really had. He had grown – it was since his independency, but there was a certain autonomy, certain economical progress that made him distance himself from the other south american countries. There were industries, jobs, food in everyone's stomach. He was directing himself straight to the top, he could've gained so much, he could've been the better, and yet...

Yet he laid in the floor now. Completely crushed. His hair was a bloody mess, plastered in his cheeks, the strands poking wounds uncomfortably. One black eye, swollen lips. Several cuts covered his sweat coated face. Paraguay tried to breath and he coughed instead, feeling the weight of someone much stronger press his body against the ground.

"I didn't want to have done that," Brazil pushed his foot against Paraguay's chest just enough to make the other gasp for air. Brazil withheld a tiny, victorious smile, but he furiously tried to wipe the blood away from his mouth with the back of his hand. Paraguay wondered why, though, in the sort of contemplation that bothered lost minds. Brazil's skin was so caramel-like tanned the red didn't left any stain, but only darkened it instead. "You know, if only you hadn't been so damn greedy, I could-"

"Bullshit," Paraguay claimed, and Brazil dug the heel of his boot further in the other's body, hurting, scratching.

"You," he kept his amiable face, but his voice. His voice. If Paraguay had anything else to lose anymore he would've been so scared. "You dared to taint my honor. To take my ship and invade my soil, you-"

"You've been nothing but England's puppet!" Paraguay hissed between his teeth, a foreign glow in his eyes as he tested Brazil's patience. Soon enough he received a powerful kick that made his stomach curl, his eyes being shot open as he tried not to let tears fall. The impact of Brazil's boot had sent him rolling in the ground, his face being buried in the dirt as he felt a knee digging in this back as Brazil sit on top of him, one of his hands grabbing Paraguay's hair furiously.

"I don't want anything with that bitch. I don't care if she had any interest in watching you perish, I did it for myself!"

"Yourself?" he coughed, the words barely being able to left the dry throat. Brazil had pulled his head backwards, making the pain send stars flying through his head, white blinding as he could see nothing more than the way he was hurting so bad. "Yeah, everything about you..."

"How...! I... I didn't want to fight you! I only wanted to help Uruguay! You, you were the one who started it, how could I stay quiet when you attacked me?!" Brazil was clinging to the man's hair, tugging, pulling, his other hand grabbing Paraguay's shoulder with strength enough to make him bleed again. The words sounded so desperate, so sincere. It made Paraguay sick.

"As if. You want nothing but to be like them, don't you? Like the others who abused you, who took advantage of your naivety and youth."

"Don't you dare to say one more word!"

"Aren't you glad you're victorious? Because you're oh-so-powerful, because it doesn't matter Argentine and Uruguay fought with you, because you're the one who will be remembered best," he couldn't understand where he took power from to say those words. Maybe from Brazil's look of disbelief, the greenish brown eyes looking so utterly lost and shocked and angry he wished to have more of it, even if it meant to have his neck being almost twisted in a deadly way. That look... Paraguay could stare at it forever and amuse himself because it was so damn true and Brazil himself didn't knew it. "You wish so much to be like Europe, or like the US of South America, you'll even indulge in wars to show your self centered conscience, your imperialism."

"Why... What?! Don't you think I lost anything here?! That I'd be willing to see my people die if it was just to stroke my ego?!" there was it again, the indignant glare, furrowed brows, a pout of defiance. Paraguay would laugh if it didn't break his heart. Such self righteousness. He wished he hadn't lost to that.

"Stop pretending you lost too much here, like those black, slave soldiers and those men who never really volunteered themselves meant anything to y-" his mouth was roughly shut when Brazil pushed his face against the sand, the hand maintaining a cruel grip as it made the other crash his nose against the ground with a breaking sound an a muffled scream. Panic flew through his thoughts, Paraguay's weak arms trying to pull away, nails scratching the earth as he tried not to choke on his blood or the dirt that entered in his mouth, covered his broken nose.

Still, Brazil could hear the ghastly whispers of what Paraguay had never said.

"They didn't love you, why should you love them?"
It made his head spin with fury, hate making his grip on Paraguay's hair strengthen. He leant forwards, blinded by the unwanted knowledge that had been shared with him, his body pressing against the man's back.

"You know," he begun, twisting Paraguay's hair strands between his fingers. "Maybe you're right indeed. Maybe I want to be a bitch like them. Like you wanted to. Because you know what? Only that kind can survive and be big and powerful enough to please their people. And I want mine to be proud of me, to be happy... I knew you do too. But Paraguay, you lost your chance."

He knew it. Goddamn Brazil hadn't to spell with all the letters, hadn't to rub it in his face as the recently victorious nation tried to make sense of those words himself, confused by just what he had confessed to the other.

Paraguay tried to look back – he didn't knew why, he wasn't looking for anything, neither for sympathy or pride or any of the mixed emotions he could feel coming from the other. But the hand in his shoulder pressed him firmly and didn't let go.

"I can't let you go away unharmed," Brazil replied, trying to get confidence. As if Paraguay hadn't been harmed enough. A smile sprouted in his lips. The confusion was still there, as there was pity and anger. But they were minor.

He had won.

It didn't matter if Paraguay wouldn't have a chance to recover ever again, if it meant he was cruel or if he was now like the ones he struggled so much to get free of.

He had won, and he was powerful.

It only had to be proven to himself.

"You see," Brazil laughed softly, licking his lips, tasting his own blood on it. It was bitter and he didn't like, so he decided to press his mouth gently against Paraguay's bruised neck. The other's warm blood felt like victory all over again, and even if victory was bitter too, it still felt so good he couldn't help but nape on the wound, his tongue following the scarlet flow as it bleed again in his mouth. Paraguay's shivers and small cries of pain were like winning the war, and Brazil couldn't help but smile again. "I have yet to take my spoils."

And yet there was nothing he could do - not even watch as Brazil took a part of his being.