When on Omegle, cosplaying as Lovino, I had the best conversation with a Prussia cosplayer. I stupidly lost the conversation, due to having stayed up all day and night... And I wrote this on the following morning, still having gotten no rest whatsoever, and so I will probably read it over later and facepalm at all the spelling, grammar, and translation mistakes I obviously made. Don't even bother pointing it out, just try to enjoy the story. (However crappy it may be.) It doesn't really have all the elements of our like 3 hour conversation, which was all historical and intense; far more intense than this crap-cake I threw together in a desperate attempt to capture some random plotless fluff about nations bonding with each other.
So... Yeah...
This isn't really a pairing fic; although implied Spamano, and if you cross your eyes and believe you can take it as Prumano. But I'm a Spamano type of gal ;D
Interpretation! WOOO
Enjoy the abomination.
DISCLAIMER: I don't own anything.
...
It was a late night, and Lovino Vargas was anything but satisfied with his current state of mind. He angrily thrust his exhausted and intoxicated frame through the house entrance, his face twisted in a mediocre scowl and his eyes darting around anxiously. He stumbled, nearly ramming into a side table. Believe it or not, the Italian's stress levels could get rather high at times. What he was met with was the last thing he expected, instead of his secretly beloved Spaniard sprawled out drunk after a night out with his posse; he was met by a familiar Prussian albino.
"What the hell are you doing here?" Romano burst out, his enraged accent cutting through the silence like a knife. Gilbert's vibrant red eyes lolled over to meet the other's body.
"Where is that fucking tomato-bastardo?" The Italian added, shutting the door; getting antsy as various scenarios played through his mind. Gilbert took a swig of his German beer, there never seemed to be a night where he didn't drink.
"Out." He grumbled, not amused by Romano's pacing and cursing in his native tongue. "Y'know I can understand some of what you're saying..." With that one line, Romano shot Prussia an angry glower. "Because I'm just that awesome." He smirked, that same mischievous glint in his eyes as he always had. It was something that sparked other's immediate interest in him, but not the Southern Italian nation; it sent shivers down his spine and put him into a full-fledged internal panic mode.
"Why the FUCK are you in my house!?" He blatantly ignored the fact that Prussia seemed less than happy to hear his violent outbursts of Italian babbling.
"It's 'Toni's house, kleine miezekatze" (1) There was a pause, as Roma was trying to figure out exactly what Prussia had called him; whatever it was, it didn't sound intimidating or suiting to his nature. So his cheeks flushed an angry red. "And I'm allowed here whenever I want, because I'm awesome... And because Spain said I could." He then snickered at the other's distraught to this fact."Kesesesese!"
"Why the HELL are you even here then? La Spagna non è a casa-" (2) Romano's speech was cut off by Prussia's rude cackle.
"Keseseese! If you want us to make any progress and communication, tomaten jungen (3), then you'll have to speak English or German; that'd be nice. Can you speak any Ger-?"
"Chiudi quella cazzo di bocca!" (4)
"That didn't sound very nice, Roma." Gilbert mocked him with that toothy grin of his, eyes ablaze with fiendish delight. Lovino huffed and only realized that his undying hate of the situation was nowhere near over. "Anyways, if you MUST know. I'm here because Veneziano and mein bruder need some alone time-" He winked, seductively purring at S. Italy; only to receive more of the brute's native curses against him. He leaned back and took another swig, only amused by these notions at this point.
"I hate your guts, I hope you burn in hell. I'll kill both of you potato-bastardos!"
"Kesesesee, you couldn't kill me if you tried!"
Their argument escalated furthermore, and it came to a climax as the Italian burst out with a strong "I HATE EVERYONE!"
"Even Spain?" Prussia prodded at him with the words, causing him to snap and holler so loud that the rafters shook
"I HATE HIM THE MOST!" ... This caused a very drawn out and awkward quietness to come over the room, leaving Gilbert to densely try to comprehend the fiery Italian's true emotions; which he was almost positive he knew. He was best friends with Antonio, and his "precious Lovi" was one of the things he never got tired of cooing over. Prussia was quiet for a while, then he focused in on the Italian's ranting and mumbling. One sentence in particular stuck out to him.
"Perché sempre io? Ma Dio mi odia?" (5) The older Vargas brother whimpered, and the Prussian nation understood that last sentence rather well; he wasn't THAT dumb to not pick up on it.
"Maybe God hates you and punishes you because you lie." He sneered, but mentally he thought 'Isn't that what Catholics aren't meant to do or something?' He tried to remember the scarce knowledge of immense religion, which he'd since given up on after so many centuries of hopelessness and despair.
"Si? You think so?" He realized just how disheveled Romano was, worn down and drunk and weary from a long night. A good samaritan would have sent him to bed and told him everything would turn out alright. But this was Prussia, and he wanted nothing more than to take advantage of the rare opportunity.
"Oh hell yeah, I think maybe you need to confess immediately!" He falsely decorated his tone with desperation, and watched Lovino sit down on the lounging chair opposite to him. Now he was getting somewhere, and it was almost impossible to suppress that obnoxious chortle of his.
"Immediately?..." Lovino mused, drunk out of his mind; his face was still red and his body tilting slightly far left.
"Shit yeah!" He then cleared his throat "As the AWESOME ME, I hereby grant you the permission to confess to Admiral Awesome!" But upon his own nickname for himself, he saw Lovino shift his weight and frown; brows furrowing. Then he lied "Did you know that 'my listener' is 'mein herr' (6) in German? So you can call me your listener!" He was pushing the limit, but Roma was too intoxicated to do anything more than nod it off and agree.
"Veh..." He sleepily murmured, taking on a rather cute appearance once he wasn't so furiously blinded by rage; once he took a moment to relax his facial muscles and give into his natural adorable features.
"So, do you hate all the nations? Honestly?"
"No.."
"Do you hate mein bruder and I?"
As soon as Romano's mouth opened, Prussia reminded him "Honesty."
"No, to be honest..." He hiccuped with a squeak "You both scare... the shit out of me. You're both so big and... fuckin'... big n'... n'shit." A drunk's confession was truthful, and Prussia seriously fought back the laughter growing within him.
"And what about Spain?"
"Mm... Spain... I like him, a lot... Uhh... Mein herr" Romano sighed, his cheeks a bright pinkish hue; and his eyes were a bit vacant and dreamy, as Feliciano's always were. They seemed glazed over in cluelessness, and he had no idea he was being played. He hadn't the slightest idea what he'd just called Prussia, as well. For he hadn't said 'my listener', but instead he'd called him a lord. This only further made the egotistical albino realize how big his advantage was.
"Ah!" Gilbert was smiling openly now, his small sharp teeth gleaming brilliantly "What else have you lied about to us? All of us, France, Spain, and I?"
"Francis... is terrifying." Lovi drawled, pulling a face at the thought of France. It was bizarre to hear Lovino ever use the nation's real name, and Gilbert inquired "Why?"
"He stalks me... and grabs my curl and tries to grope me... 'nd Spain doesn't do shit about that pervert-bastard."
"What's so important about your curl?" He curiously reached for it, and Romano jumped back; nearly toppling out of his chair.
"F-FUCK NO! GET AWAY!"
"What is it!?" Gilbert had to hide the somewhat malicious intentions he felt.
"It's a sensitive spot... I don't remember what the f-fuck it was called." Lovino grumbled, crossing his arms and drawing his knees to his chest. He was so full of lies, that even trying to get him to list them all off would take a whole other lifetime.
"France isn't that bad, Roma, you just have to get used to it or not let him boss you around. Running away like a sissy doesn't do anything-"
"I'M TOUGH! I'M NOT A SISSY!" He hollered back, trying to protect what shreds of dignity he had left.
"Moving on! What are you scared of?"
"Being alone all the time... Alone protects me, but it's also when I realize that no one gives a fuck if I disappear or not. It's all about Feliciano, it's always been about my fratello." He rested his chin on his arms, eyes casting downward and fixating on a spot on the floorboards. Before Gilbert could respond he added "And thunderstorms."
"Y'know, West used to be scared of thunder." Gilbert admitted, no trace of deceit in his tone. Lovino laughed at this, an honest-to-God laugh. It rose up from the pit of his stomach and pulled the corners of his mouth into a happy wide smile. It was the sort of thing that made your heart skip a beat from shock, but then made you swoon in awe. The older nation joined in with a vicious "Kesesesesee!"
They were beginning to bond, and even if Lovino was too drunk to recall what he'd said two minutes prior, it was an ideal way to get blackmail information. However, in the process of his fun; he was truly learning more about Lovino. Lovi seemed more... More human, now that he was opening up. It was some foreign unknown land to Prussia, he was stepping in uncharted territory; because he got Romano to burst into hysterics and admit his fears and thoughts on others.
...
"Why don't you like being touched?" Gilbert honestly wondered why Romano was so hesitant to be close to others, he always seemed to flinch or draw back; he always needed his personal bubble, and of course; people like Feli and Antonio didn't respect that bubble's law.
"I'm ticklish.."
"WOAH REALLY!? Fuck Yeah, muss ich sehen!" (7) Without any warning, Gilbert leaped over to where Lovino sat; defensively holding himself and cussing the Prussian out in Italian.
"Tocca a me e che io chiamo la mafia!" (8)
It didn't take a genius to pick up the words 'The Mafia.' This made Gilbert pout in distaste and sit back in his initial spot, folding his arms and rolling his eyes. For now, he'd refrain from testing Lovino's limits. This was a once in a lifetime chance, and he wasn't going to pass it up.
"Das ehrfürchtige mir leid" (9)
...
"Spain likes to talk about you, Roma... I don't get why you think he doesn't like you. He adores you, and it's annoying because he doesn't shut up. EVER." Gilbert was laying on the couch by now, trying to have a real conversation with Lovino by now.
"Really? Hmm... What does he say?"
"Just that you're cute n' shit like that... Stupid stuff."
"Seriously, has he said anything?" Lovino was still hunched in on himself on the lounging chair, all cuddled up with himself; arms daintily resting on his knees.
"Well... He told the awesome me... That you cry when you remember being abandoned as a wee th-"
"He WHAT?!" Romano shot up, his neck veins beginning to pop out in loathing sensations.
"Don't get mad at him! We pestered him about it and he was drunk as hell, we all were... I just remember that."
"What the FUCK!?" Lovino was beginning to get worked up again, his face heating up and his fists clenching. You could see the smallest tremor take hold of him as he grit his teeth and stared passionately enough that he could've burned holes into the ground.
"If it makes you feel any better... I still have all my globes and maps set back when I was a country, like I still exist." He nearly whispered "But you can't tell anyone I said that, or you will fucking pay." This doused the internal flame in Romano rather nicely; because a wash of pity came over him as he solemnly nodded. "It's lonely, being the only one..." Prussia huffed. "But I'm too awesome to be included in modern day maps anyways, I'm a fuckin' boss!" He cackled loudly "KESESESESESESE!" at his own lame statement, because Prussia was a dork at heart.
...
"Kesesesee, I wonder if 'Tonio is out with any beautiful women tonight." Gilbert taunted, knowing Romano wouldn't like him saying that. "I assume he and Francis are out hunting down-"
"Stai zitto, idiota." (10)
"Why? Did I offend you? Oh! Wait do you have a CRUSH on Antonio!?" Gilbert was nearly as drunk as Lovino now, but he held his liquor so much better than the younger nation. He burst into that obnoxious laughter, a shimmering zeal in his crimson eyes. Of course, Gil knew that Lovi had a thing for Spain; it was just obvious by the way they acted around each other, and all the time they spent together even though Italy was independent.
"I HATE YOU!"
"No you don't! You're SCARED of me! KESSESESESE!" He then jumped up and roared in German, baring his fang-like pearly whites and flailing his arms out. Lovino actually twitched and pulled back against his chair, a mewl escaping his lips pitifully.
"I WISH YOU'D DISAPPEAR! I HOPE YOU DIE OUT AND NO ONE REMEMBERS YOU!" Now, it was that hateful comment that hit home for the Prussian; because that was his biggest fear, to fade without a single soul remembering what a great conqueror he'd been. How he'd accomplished most everything, and without him so much would be incomplete. It seemed most of the world's population didn't remember him already, so it wasn't that far a stretch to say no one would eventually.
"At least I have people who GIVE A SHIT about me! Unlike you and your great fuckin' Grandpa Rome!" Pure spite filled him, angst and emotion churning up inside him; he'd never had a very good temper. But he stopped when he saw that Romano's eyes were filled to the brim with tears, and it may have been the alcohol over-influencing their emotions, but he felt guilty for making his best friend's crush cry. "Oh fuck..."
...
"Hey, hey, I didn't mean it. Bitte nicht weinen, nicht weinen ... über diese Menschen hasse dich nicht, es gibt Menschen, die kümmern. Shh ... Shh ... Hush, jetzt aufhören zu weinen, Lovino." (11) Gilbert soothed, sitting beside Romano while he bawled nonsense about how everyone hated him, even God hated him; in his opinion. How he sometimes wished that he didn't even exist, how easy it'd be on the world if he had never been Southern Italy. Although, he didn't fully understand the German language; the words began to calm him, not like Spain's words would, or his own fratello's; but in a sense that he couldn't allow Gilbert the pride of making him sob and break down. "Spain told me that he loved you, Roma... I know you like him back, so why don't you smile? Just smile. C'mon, you little bastard, show me a fucking smile!" Prussia spoke to him how he'd tried to cheer up his mates after hardship. But Romano would not comply to these instructions, and just stubbornly wiped his tears away and crossed his arms; feeling soggy and used up, as though he'd exhausted himself even more with the tears he shed.
"Io lo amo, così tanto ... Troppo. Ma io non so come dimostrarlo." (12) Then Gilbert laughed and patted him on the back, pulling him into a brotherly half-hug.
"Die Liebe wird einen Weg finden." (13)
Then their eyes met, and Romano cracked the cutest grin; his eyes crinkling at the corners and his teeth beginning to bare. He sighed in relief, closing his eyes; falling to rest at last, focusing in on Gilbert's heartbeat.
But would this moment last forever? Of course not, it was short-lived.
The obnoxious Prussian grabbed Romano's curl violently then jabbed an offending finger on his sensitive tummy.
"GYA! CHIGI!" Gilbert burst into hysterical cackling, holding his heaving and aching sides.
"Who the hell is Chigi!?"
Then the door opened, and a familiar Spanish accent droned out "What's wrong, Lovi, I heard you call for me!"
"Cazzo!" (14) Romano hissed, turning and punching the Prussian square in the jaw; and he continued to laugh through his anguish. Antonio stood there dumbstruck at the door frame, holding a basket of tomatoes. And Romano? Well Romano knew that he was in for one hell of a time when he saw Prussia again.
...
FIN.
Translations:
(1): "Little kitty"
(2): "Spain isn't at home-"
(3): "Tomato boy"
(4): "Shut the fuck up!"
(5): "Why is it always me? Does God hate me?"
(6): "My Lord."
(7): "I have to see this!"
(8): "Touch me and I call the mafia!"
(9): "The awesome me is sorry."
(10): "Shut up, idiot."
(11): "Please, don't cry, don't cry over this... People don't hate you, there's people who care. Shh... Shh... Hush, now, stop crying, Lovino."
(12): "I love him, so much... Too much. But I don't know how to show it."
(13): "Love will find a way."
(14): "Fuck!"