Title: Logic: Prussia = Awesome, Internet = Awesome, therefore Prussia = Internet
Characters/Pairings: Prussia, others
Warnings: FLYING STORM OF MEMES
Disclaimer: Hetalia and its characters belong to Himaruya Hidekaz, I'm just borrowing them.

Summary: Imagine, for a moment, that Gilbert survived the reunification of Germany because he became the personification of the internet. And of course, the internet isn't limited to Google searches and BBC News... Drabbly bits, under the assumption that Gilbert didn't tell anyone about his transition. Kink meme de-anon

Gilbert dropped the report on his brother's desk. "Here ya go."

"Danke." Germany skimmed through it, stopped. "East, if you want to rebel, there are easier ways to go about it."

"Huh?"

He turned the paper to his brother, finger tapping a line. "It's gibberish."

"'Production of cabbage is up fifteen percent.' Are you going senile in your old age?"

Germany's eyebrow twitched. "No. It's numbers."

It was perfectly legible- Oh shit, he'd flipped to 1337 half-way through. "Sorry West," he said as he grabbed the papers, "I'll re-type it."

"Please do."

-/-/-/-

"East?"

"Yeah?"

"This isn't funny."

Sheesh, he'd gone to all the trouble, and-

AOL speak.

Well fuck.

Greece crossed his arms. "Prussia, why are you cutting a hole in my ceiling?"

"For the cat." Gilbert grinned from his place on the ladder.

"The cat."

"Yeah, can't have Ceiling Cat without a ceiling! ... Even if I have to go to Turkey's to get a basement."

Sigh. "I'm billing your brother for damages."

Arthur's day was a nice, normal day. He went to meetings in the morning, did paperwork in the afternoon, and walked to the market to get ingredients for supper before taking the tram home.

Yes, a nice, normal day, until he passed the demonstration.

Protests weren't unheard of in London – he'd marched in a few himself – but he hadn't felt any groundswell of emotion to indicate his people were particularly upset with anything. In the interests of keeping an eye on the situation - and curiosity - he stopped on the other side of the street to observe.

"Tom Cruise doesn't like mudkips!" someone yelled.

"Boooooo!" the crowd responded.

The UK raised an eyebrow. Aside from making no sense, the protestors were wearing Guy Fawkes masks, which was in entirely poor taste.

One particular voice, though - it shook its sign at the office across the road ("We Have Cake But They Have Lies") and yelled "It's a trap!"

The UK crossed the road, threaded his way to the centre of the mob. "Gilbert?"

The nation in the mask tilted his head, and he could hear the grin. "Heya Arthur."

"What, exactly, are you doing here?"

"Protesting, whaddya think?"

The UK twitched. "And what are you protesting?"

"Scientology! Can you believe that they think humans spent time as clams? I tried to imagine us as clams, and it just ended up kinda- clammy. Then there's the parts where they think human bodies are made up of dead aliens, and that said aliens came here in jet liners without the engines, plus there's all the human rights abuses, and religion should be free, yanno, and-"

Twitch. "What are you doing here?"

"Me? I just told you- Oh, you mean me. Just being with my people, jeez." The UK raised an eyebrow, and he could hear Gilbert back-pedalling. "Immmigrants, you know?"

Perhaps the unification of Germany knocked a few of Gilbert's screws loose, and it was only showing as his people shifted to Ludwig. "Please try not to get arrested."

"Sure thing, gov'nor!"

The UK just shook his head, and resolved to call Germany when he made it home.

"Prussia. Get out of my house."

"I know none of your cats are that long, but you should be grateful for the internet fame I'm getting you!"

"Out."

"So West was trying to pull off his only sane man schtick, but Hungary had put North Italy into that meido outfit she dug out of Austria's closet, and West kept going all deredere at him. Completely ruined the discussion about whether our colonial selves were magnificent bastards or a complete monsters, but they kind of edged it to talk about me, so it was okay. Italy went all stepford smiler at Austria, because Austria-"

"Prussia?"

"Yeah, Spain?"

"In real language, please?"

Greece frowned. "Prussia, I don't care what you're doing with that keyboard, just get out of my house."

Germany had believed that his brother was adapting well to being "East Germany" instead of Prussia, that he was recovering from being the GDR.

Germany had had a long day - South Italy had called the mafia on him (again), France had come to his office for a discussion, his boss walked in on France being.. France, and North Italy had called to say his brother was taking him out to dinner, they'd meet Saturday, would that be okay? So when he got home, he took a shower, picked up his book, and hit play on his stereo. Instead of the soothing strains of Syrah and "Owi, Tristan," he heard pop music and a male voice singing.

By the time it hit the chorus, he could hear his brother cackling while singing along - "Never gonna give you up, never gonna let you down, never gonna run around and desert you..."

It was official, something was very, very wrong with his brother.

Notes:

In order, the memes are: 1337 & AOL speak, Ceiling Cat, Project Chanology, Longcat, TV Tropes, Keyboard Cat, and Rickrolls.