No More Peace
© happy-synthesiser
Hetalia © Hidekaz Himaruya
A/N: Originally, this started out as a AmeCan, but then I was like WAIT TRIANGLE. And Gilbo/Prussia infested my mind. Meh. PruCanAme is pretty much set in stone. But I can't decide who ends with who. Anyway, as for other couples like Spamano, GerIta, SuFin, hell even weird pairings, I could do. Yeah. Yep. Re-edited? I guess.
Gilbert Beilschmidt drummed his elongated fingers on the desk before him, frowning as he leaned forward. Detention was sooo damn boring. Even the teacher was sleeping, with a shitload of drool running out of his mouth. He glanced at the clock for nth time, before realising that looking at the time constantly didn't make it any faster. He still had thirty minutes. Deciding to doodle himself as king over an awesome kingdom, he was suddenly hit in the head by an unawesome crumpled up paper. Gilbert jumped, grabbing the wad before turning around to flip off the offending douchecanoe. He saw a grinning Antonio Fernández Carriedo (who insisted they use his middle name whenever he was mentioned), who looked as stupid as ever.
Gilbert still flipped his friend off, straightening out the crumpled yellow paper. His eyes scanned the paper with a raised eyebrow. "'Sleepover's at your place tonight, right? And why were you talking to yourself on the way to detention?'" Gilbert repeated under his breathe.
He snorted, scribbling back a reply in his messy handwriting. Gilbert roughly tossed it behind him, not caring when he had heard Antonio fall out of his seat. Wow, even Antonio hadn't realised who the awesome (marginally less than Gilbert) Matthew Williams was.
Just like this morning...
"Gilbert, I'm not going to get detention just to keep you company," Matthew sighed in annoyance, clutching his textbooks to his thin chest, "besides, it's not like the teachers would notice it was me making trouble."
Yeah... that was kinda true.
Gilbert whined incoherently, making up weird gibberish in high-pitched tones. "C'mon, Mattie, help a guy out!" His friend had suddenly froze, a blush on his face as he stared straightforward. "Yo, Mattie," Gilbert waved a hand in front of the violet-eyed boy, jumping up and down, "Matt — oh."
Alfred F. Jones was across the hallway, sipping on McDonald's soda, waving at a smiling Matthew with an excited grin. Ah, Alfred F. Jones, the man Matthew was unconditionally and irrevocably in love with. Oya. We're using Twilight terms.
Gil scowled, a Lovino-like scowl on his face. That American honestly grated on his nerves. "O-Oh, sorry, Gilbert," Matthew pushed up his glasses (adorably, Gilbert duly noted), "but we were hanging out last night."
"WHAT? WHAT THE HELL, MATT! THE HELL. I'M YOUR BEST FRIEND, YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO TELL ME SHIT!"
"Keep it down, Beilschmidt," Roderich Edelstein reprimanded the boy, the words HALL MONITOR blazened across his strikingly orange vest, "talking to yourself again..."
Gilbert's eye twitched. "Fuck off, Edelstein. Go play your stupid cello!" He smirked triumphantly.
"...I play the piano, Gilbert."
"ERGH."
And then the evil he-she-bitch from his past returned, Elizabeta Héderváry. She smiled calmly to Roderich, who was still shaking his head at Gilbert. "Hello Roderich," Elizabeta greeted him warmly, before turning to face Gilbert. An ominous feeling crept up his back as she smiled that sick, demented smile (he never meant to grope her breasts when they were younger, God, no, and he prayed for hours and hours after that horrible time) when she spoke. "Good morning to you, Gilbert. Being nice to Roderich?"
"Nice?" His voice cracked for a moment as he struggled to get back his composure and become his usual cool, awesome self. "I've been wayyy better than nice! I was, um, coming to tell him Guten Tag?"
Elizabeta nodded calmly, her hand inching into her messenger bag slowly. Gilbert could see the handle of something, something very similar to a frying pan...? "Well, good day, Gilbert." The red eyed teen nodded frantically as he sped away, hand pulling on his metal cross West had given him.
"Sie ist so umheimlich, Gott rette mich..."
"She's so scary, God save me..."
Gilbert was pulled out of his reverie with another paper to the head. Who, it read, is Matthew Williams? Anyway, Feliciano + Lovino + tomates = world peace.
The red eyed man crumpled up the paper, tossing it to the side this time. If this conversation continued, Antonio would just write about Feliciano and Lovino obsessively. Although, the two spent most of their time at his and West's house. Especially that one time...
Gilbert had dragged himself out of bed, shoving on some boxers with little yellow birdies. Gilbird was still napping in his little house, Gilbert noted with a yawn. He stumbled down the stairs, almost falling forward. Ah, he was never a morning person. Dammit, West hadn't even made breakfast yet. Gilbert, half-asleep, began making wurst out of habit. As he finished, he fished through the fridge for some beer. While shoving through expired food, he felt someone kick his ass.
"WEST," He fumed angrily, turning around with wonderful German beer in his hands, "er, wait, Feliciano?"
The Italian kinda looked like Feli, but this one was scowling with his arms crossed. Damnnn, Feli must not be a morning person. "That's my brother, you potato-bastard! And I can smell your stinky wurst breakfast!" The brown haired boy spat out, making Gilbert glare.
"Oi, kid, shut your —"
"Ve~, Lovino and Gil~," Feliciano came from the guest room upstairs, waving at the two happily, "is that wurst? Yay!"
Lovino continued glaring at Gilbert, who had mellowed down once he saw Feliciano. He put a finger at Gilbert's chest, eyes narrowed. "You better be nice to my fucking idiot brother, bastard." Gilbert rolled his eyes, knowing that Lovino wasn't the least bit threatening.
He kinda wanted to punch him.
But then Gilbert realised how adorable both were, and began calling them Feli and Lovi (much to Lovino's irritation). However, he wasn't as crazy and obsessed as Antonio, who even knew that Lovino was a year older than Feliciano, but was in the same year as the latter.
Oh yeah. Totally obsessed. The last sleepover was at Toni's, and Francis had insisted on making them all crossdress. So, Gilbert had taken to hiding in Antonio's closet, where he was found several minutes later after his awesome curiosity got the better of him, and he snooped through Toni's things.
Gilbert had found several boxes marked: 'SECRET, DO NOT OPEN UNLESS YOUR NAME IS ANTONIO FERNÁNDEZ CARRIEDO.' He'd snorted at that, opening the box without a second thought. There were CDs and photo albums abundant in the box, and he chose to look through the items. Screw Toni's privacy.
"'My First Proposal to Feli~,' 'The First Day I Got to Babysit Lovi,' 'The Day When Lovi was Almost Raped by that One Turkish Guy and I Saved Him,' 'The Day I Realised Lovi Looks Like a Tomate'... what the hell is wrong with Antonio," Gilbert flipped through the CDs with wide eyes, before grabbing the photo albums, "the fuck..."
The album was galore with photos of Feliciano and Lovino — Feliciano: one year old; Lovino: two years old, Feliciano and Lovino through the years, Lovino and Feliciano with their curls making a heart, Feliciano hugging a slightly smiling Lovino, Lovino and Feliciano sleeping, and much, much, more. Gilbert didn't even want to know what else was in the rest of the three or more albums.
Another paper to the head broke Gilbert from having anymore strange flashbacks.
"Dumm Toni," Gil grumbled under his breathe, grasping the note off the floor and reading it, I GOTS TO KNOW WHO THIS MATTHEW IS. Tell meeeee!
Gilbert crumpled it again, sticking the strawberry flavoured gum from his mouth unto the ball. He chucked it back, and was awarded with Antonio's screech.
"AH! ¡ESTÁ PEGADA A MI CABELLO!"
"Ah! It's stuck in my hair!"
The teacher had woken up at that, and glared at the brown haired Spaniard. Antonio was pulling on the pink gum, trying to pull it off his head as tears gathered in his green eyes. "Mr. Carriedo," the teacher scowled in irritation, "another week of detention. And, is that gum I see? I guess that I'll have to give you gum-scraping duty."
Antonio whimpered pitifully, wishing he was cuddling with a certain bitchy Italian and tomatoes.
"Ah, mon ami, it's not so bad!"
Francis had styled Antonio's hair differently, trying to hide the bald spot that was pretty obvious. The Spaniard was sniffling, holding unto his stuffed toy, which was a bull. His hair. Gah, Gilbert needed to make this all up.
The Prussian teen stalked into the room, tossing a bag to the sulking brunette. Antonio reached into the bag, pulling out a small box, the kind used for rings. His green eyes widened as he inspected the exterior curiously.
"...Gil, I'm sorry, but I don't feel the same —"
"Just open the damn thing."
Antonio flipped open the box, which revealed an oval shaped locket. It was open, and it had a Feliciano in one side, and Lovino on the other. Both of them were smiling, surprisingly. "SO ADORABLE."
As Antonio fawned over the necklace, Francis beckoned Gilbert closer. The red eyed man obliged immediately, holding his laptop in one hand. "So, I hear you've made a Facebook for Matthieu," Francis commented, "what is your plan?"
"I want Mattie to be noticed more. He's always so sad when people ignore him," Gilbert replied bluntly, eyes scanning his computer screen, "and it's up to the awesome me to do so."
Francis' eyes glittered. "Are you sure that it's not much more than that, mon chéri?"
Gilbert paused, gently setting Gilbird down on his desk to face Francis. "What do you mean by that? And for the last fucking time, I don't speak French, Francis." He turned back to his awesome laptop, which had awesome stickers with yellow birdies and the Canadian and Prussian flag. Because all three of those things were honestly awesome.
Gilbert Beilschmidt is now friends with Matthew Williams.
Alfred F. Jones heyyy, Mattie's my friend too
Arthur Kirkland ...I'm cousins with Matthew.
Gilbert Beilschmidt WHATT
Alfred F. Jones EWWW HE'S GOT UR BLOOD IN HIM
[Gilbert Beilschmidt, Alfred F. Jones, and Francis Bonnefoy like this]
Francis Bonnefoy I knew he was related to lovely Artie.
Gilbert Beilschmidt DAMMIT FRANCIS I'M RIGHT NEXT TO YOU TELL ME SHIT
[Gilbert Beilschmidt and Francis Bonnefoy like this]
Arthur Kirkland to Alfred F. Jones I find that highly offensive, twat. And don't call me lovely, Frog.
Alfred F. Jones how unrefined for a gentleman
Arthur Kirkland I'm surprised you even know how to spell unrefined and what it means.
[Antonio Fernández Carriedo, Gilbert Beilschmidt, and Francis Bonnefoy like this]
Alfred F. Jones I see how it is
Antonio Fernández Carriedo to Gilbert Beilschmidt, Alfred F. Jones, Arthur Kirkland, Francis Bonnefoy, Lovino Vargas, Feliciano Vargas, Lars Hendriks, Ludwig Beilschmidt, who is this Matthew Williams!
Matthew Williams I AM Matthew Williams. Why did you even send me a friend request if you didn't even know who I was?
Lovino Vargas DAMN YOU TOMATO JERK DAMN YOU POTATO BASTARDS DAMN YOU FRENCHIE PERVERT DAMN YOU FLUFFY EYEBROWS DAMN YOU COKE SMOKING EDWARD CULLEN
to Matthew Williams you didn't say you were making an account
[Feliciano Vargas, Antonio Fernández Carriedo, and Lovino Vargas like this]
Lars Hendriks I don't smoke coke, i smoke marijuana and i look nothing like edward cullen...ok maybe the hair
[Antonio Fernández Carriedo, Gilbert Beilschmidt, and Alfred F. Jones like this]
Matthew Williams Can we please stop talking about drugs?
Arthur Kirkland Seconded.
Alfred F. Jones Mattie's dis relly awesome guy w/ violet eyes n a big curl n he wears glasses n hes relly quiet
Gilbert Beilschmidt i was bout to say that!
Alfred F. Jones too late ROFLMAO
Feliciano Vargas FRATELLO, TE PASTA'S READY
[Ludwig Beilschmidt, Gilbert Beilschmidt, and three others like this]
Alfred F. Jones damn im hungry
[Matthew Williams, Feliciano Vargas, Lovino Vargas, and Lars Hendriks like this]
Antonio Fernández Carriedo How come I wasnt invited to this dinner of yours
Lovino Vargas DAMN SHUT UP I WANNA EAT IN PEACE DAMN 1;'.doaodjf Feliciano quit bothering me, I'm trying to curse AND DONT LIKE MY BROTHERS POST POTATO BASTARDOS
Feliciano Vargas Fratello, calm down! Ti amo!
[Francis Bonnefoy likes this]
Lovino Vargas Feli it's ti voglio bene!
Feliciano Vargas eh? oh ti voglio bene
Francis Bonnefoy Ohonhonhon~.
Gilbert Beilschmidt We need to end this thing i wanna watch horror movies
Antonio Fernández Carriedo How come I wasnt invited to watch movies
Gilbert Beilschmidt ...Toni this is our sleepover night. You even picked the movie!
Francis Bonnefoy Mon chéri Gilbert is correct.
Arthur Kirkland Smart, Carriedo.
Antonio Fernández Carriedo i dun care what u think kirkland go back to britishland
[Alfred F. Jones likes this]
Matthew Williams ...I'm going to delete my Facebook.
Matthew sighed loudly, eying through the long chat. He'd smiled however, when he'd read the comments Gilbert and Alfred had written. It was true, he and Arthur were cousins, but Matthew was also distantly related to Francis. His mother had explained it to him, Arthur's mother was his father's sister, and his mother's third cousin or whatever was Francis' father.
Confusing.
Biting his lip, he hovered over the link to Alfred F. Jones' profile on the computer. He hesitated, wondering if it said that he was single or in a relationship. Matthew clicked on it, and his heart froze. Alfred F. Jones is in a relationship with... with...
Alfred F. Jones.
Matt blinked, confused as he read those words. There definitely was a picture of Alfred there, which meant the American had made another account. He chuckled under his breathe, arms tightly wound around Kumajirou. He could kind of thank Gilbert for setting this all up.
And so, the young protagonist of the story went to sleep with a smile on his face.
A/N: I'm not quite sure if the translations are correct or not, so feel free to tell me differently. I'm kinda leaning toward PruCan... hm.