Omg another Hetalia fic?! I didn't think I'd even write the first one! And yet here it is… well, I hope you're happy Bree. This is what I imagined happening after you told me all your plot bunnies. It was all I could think of all holidays :D OMG WHEN I FINISHED IT I WAS LAIK 'HOLY ROMAN EMPIRE!' and I decided it was way too long to put as a one-shot.
To clear up any confusion, Prussia's thoughts are the italics, and the rest is just third person, but centering on Gil's P.o.V.
No blatant shipping until later, sorry mates.
I also agree with a lot of people's views on the happy-go-lucky characters. They can either be the actual 'happy all the fucking time no matter what', or they can be the type that use that happiness or loud personality as a cover-up for the stuff they're hiding. So sorry if Gil or anyone else is OOC, but they're purposely written like this, for the intent in this fic… mostly. And like… that strip where he's out for a walk and he's 'so happy to be alone'… it made me sad.
Yeah Gil, you're TOTALLY not jealous of the AusHun moments blatantly staring you in your lonely face.
To all the other random people who have no idea what the fuck I'm talking about, this is a Prussia/OC fic. But, the thing is, she's not a fake nation. She's just like Wy or Hutt River – a legit micro nation. So HA. Yeah… enjoy. I think all our Hetalia buddies who go to school with us ship this pairing too. At least in the 2000's. We tend to ship Prussia with Canada, Austria, Hungary and Switzerland when it's anything earlier than the 21st century.
So, on to the fic! Rated T, in case you hadn't checked. I will say in advance that 'yes, my spelling is British/Canadian/New Zealandish/Anywhere in the Commonwealth' because it looks and sounds better. Lol jokes it's the way my computer works and also the way I grew up with. Got a problem? Go whine to the people who invaded Australia. Also, anything Gil says in another language is German. Probably.
Thanks so much to ObsydianDreamer for betaing! Love you gurl!
Warnings: fic contains a little bit of angst, timeskips, frequent coarse language and sexual references. Parental guidance is not recommended unless you want to join those weird people in the counsellor's room who have no idea about the true meaning of 'Fangirl/Fanboy'.
Oh, and Willa is Wy's human name. :P
...(^J^)...
…
So…
When did this friendship… alliance… acquaintance… mateship… bond…relationship thing… start, exactly?
Well… as most people would say… it's complicated. But I think I can explain it to you… so here goes.
You see, we (being the 'Bad Touch Trio') found ourselves very, extremely, tremendously drunk one night.
Let's just say we did a lot of stupid stuff… and ended up in jail for it.
All I remember from that night is that we were at our lowest, and so, so desperate for change...
So low, in fact, that we stooped to wishing our sadnesses away.
We all got one wish, seeing as there were three of us, and I think mine would be pretty obvious. But, we'll get to that.
Francis wished for the person he didn't ever want to forget to come back to him. She did. (And it gave Arthur a heart attack to see her again).
Antonio wished for Lovi to be happy for as long as he lived, forever and eternity. That happened.
(We think; it hasn't exactly been eternity yet. But, he's happy. He and Antonio are together now, and Lovi is still a fishwife).
Me… well, I told them I'd have a massive party with lots of beer and strippers and blackjack, and that – of course – they wouldn't be invited. They didn't seem to care.
They'd already found their 'eternal happiness'.
And to top it all off, I was there when my best-friend-long-time-childhood-crush made out with her boyfriend in their piano room. I saw them starting to take their clothes off. It was when only their underwear was left that I realised what I was watching. The person/country I had thought would be the 'one' for me was with hers. I was just the annoying third wheel that trashed the piano and trekked mud through their pristine white carpet.
My years and years of annoying Roderich, really, were cast out the window the minute I started watching from it. My pathetic attempts to woo Elizaveta with awesomeness were just that – pathetic – and were useless against the destructive force some just call 'love'.
I guess you could say I was – 'In love'. Elizaveta had been my closest and only friend for so long, it took me until that moment by the window to realise it, and that my attacks on their house we really just out of jealousy.
Realising it wouldn't matter if I had that party, seeing as I'd just probably just sit, drink and mope, I went out to just sit, drink and mope on my own at some pub in London. That's where the (then) current world conference was, and Francis and Antonio were at the meeting, so I sat, abandoned and alone.
It was there… or rather, literally on the footpath outside the pub that I met… her.
I know it sounds cliché, but that's all I can think of! Honestly! Lachst du über meinem Schicksal?! [do you laugh at my fate?!]
Well, you better not, seeing as I wrote it all out for you!
I sat at some obviously British pub/café/thing, drinking some horrible British beer. But, what could I complain? It was beer. My awesome blood is made of beer! …
….
London, October 2014
Gilbert sat at some obviously British pub, drinking some horrible British beer. But, what could he complain? It was beer. His awesome blood was made of beer! But at that time, he certainly didn't feel awesome, seeing as his friends were both off with all their other buddies, probably arguing again who started the GFC or some shit. Gilbert didn't care – he was too mopey, sad, lifeless and inert; he may as well have been as comatose as the dreary autumn weather outside.
The beer he was drinking helped to numb his impending loneliness, so that was why he drank it, ignoring the stares he got from people looking at his pile of empty glasses. It got his mind away from his friend's success while he withered away and died (well, in the emotional sense anyway).
It was never going to work. It's never worked before, so why work now?
Studying the lamp that started it all seemed to bring it all back… Francis' wish, Antonio's wish, and the wish that he had eventually made, under the pressure of all his negative and impossibly suicidal thoughts. A small, rueful smile made its way onto his lips.
"I wish…that I just… wasn't alone anymore."
…
…I'm such an idiot. Since when do idiots get granted wishes? It's like I wished upon a teapot or something… and those never work… unless you're Arthur and absolutely dying for a cup of tea. France's and Spain's were complete coincidence.
So, leaving the money on the table next to his eight empty beer glasses, he stood up from his bar stool and headed for the door.
"How is he still walking straight?" and "Shit, what is he, German?" were muttered questions Gil was all but happy to leave behind.
What he also left behind, however, was a £100 note and, hopefully, his sorrows.
He walked outside with his head hung low and his steps only slightly wonky from his German-high alcohol tolerance, but what happened next was something he least expected.
His somewhat dimmed hearing heard a far-away, common and slightly familiar British accent exclaim "Get back here, git!"
Well, there's some boring British swear I've heard God knows how many times.
But what carried to his hearing next was not so common, much, much closer to him and sort of out-of-place.
"You'll have to catch me first, pom!"
Since when to English people call each other poms? I thought that was American or Australian slang…?
Ahh, yes, that accent is familiar. I've heard it before from my friend Kyle.
Gilbert's albino head turned on its axis just before a dark brunette head turned the corner and, looking behind itself and muttering "Good, I think I've lost him" slammed right into him, causing both Gilbert and the owner of the head to go falling to the footpath.
They both only had the time to groan 'ow' before they realised what situation they were in and started scrambling to get off each other. The brunette's apparently well-aimed scrambling reached an unexpected destination when their knee went straight to Gil's vital regions. Instantaneously, a look of unbearable pain crossed Gilbert's face.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck, that hurts…. Fuck, shit, ficken, sheiβe, merda, cazzo, perkele, ooohh…" Gil whispered under his breath, frozen in shock on the ground. "My poor, poor vital regions…"
After the pain subsided and he managed to open his crimson eyes to look at his attacker, he found himself staring up at a cute, slightly tanned and girlish face. What kept his gaze there, though, were the bluey-green eyes, shining with amusement and pity, as well as a small bit of apology.
The girl's soft, full, pinkish lips were pulled tight, trying to hide her smile as she held out a small but rough and slightly-smooth-at-the-same-time hand, offering him help to get up.
"What's so funny? You gonna apologise for killing my dick?" he asked, wary of this somewhat-familiar newcomer.
She laughed out loud the laughter in her eyes, a sound light and jolly, before replying. "No, I was going to help you up and continue escaping from my very angry uncle. And I thought testicles were the hurty bits…?"
He smirked and nodded, knowing just how it felt – he, too, had had people he ran away from after pulling pranks. Taking her hand and using his other to help lift his body off the ground, Gilbert apologised for being unobservant.
"Sorry, mate, I wasn't looking where I was going…" he said, emphasising the only Australian slang word he knew (excluding Map of Tazzie - that one was wayyy too funny to not remember).
She laughed again, dusting herself off before he did the same. "Nah, I bumped into you nonetheless. I guess we're both to blame…" At that, Gilbert smiled, before she spoke again in a quite assuming tone.
"So, I'm judging by the very heavy and non-english accent that you're German?"
Gil's red eyes widened slightly before replying. "No, not German. Never German. Although a Russian owned my ass at one point…"
She paused pointedly in her thinking for a second. "So, some kind of European? Polish? Swiss or Austrian, maybe? And I never would have guessed you were gay just by looking at you…"
"No. Not any of those. And not gay. But yes, European. And I didn't even know people your age knew that many countries," he said amusedly.
"Ha! I'm nineteen and well-educated, let's just say. And you look my age! And if you're not those, then what are you?"
"I'm awesome and Prussian, obviously. And twenty-two, and sexy," he replied, winking at her seductively.
She looked totally unimpressed. "Trying to test me, are you? Prussia hasn't existed for like, eighty years. So nice try."
Gil winced a little before regaining his confident smile. "I am Prussian though, and no, I wasn't testing you. But me aside – I'm guessing from your heavy and obviously non-British accent that you're Australian?"
She scoffed, looking offended. "No! Not Australian! Or Kiwi, before you ask… though maybe before…"
Gilbert just looked confused. "Then what are you?" he asked, repeating her own question.
She thought a little, not knowing if he would get her. "I'm… from the Republic of….. no. I'm just Matilda. Matilda Kelly, at your service, sir!" Her right hand met her forehand briefly in a silly salute.
Gilbert chuckled. He could guess at the sir – he was wearing his military uniform. "Well, nice to meet you, Matilda Kelly. I'm Gilbert Beillshmidt, the awesome."
Matilda looked at him like a newborn child then, eyes widening as if in understanding, and her smile widening.
"That explains it! That so explains it!" she said confidently, as if the world was suddenly hers for the taking and fucking with. Which, to Gilbert's understanding, would literally be totally possible if she knew about the nation personifications.
Gilbert looked at the top of her head while she fangirled at the path. "What explains what…?"
"You! The 'Prussian' called Gilbert Beillshmidt! I know what you are!" she cried excitedly, looking straight into his pigment-less eyes.
Gilbert froze. She knows… who told her? Only the high and important in political society know….so that must mean someone's let our secret out! Shit shit shit shit…
"Wha…. What do you mean… you know what I am…?" he asked, uncertain and frightened.
She bounced up and down on her toes. "I've only ever met my brothers and my 'uncle' and Alfred before, but… You! I know all your human names!" she said, the excitement never leaving her facial features.
That set it off for Gil. He grabbed her by the shoulders and drew her up against the wall, her feet dangling slightly as she cringed at the roughness with which he handled her.
"What do you mean?" he demanded, his voice echoing in his mind; empty, except for the chilling fear.
Matilda looked momentarily taken aback, before going on.
"I'm one too." She said quietly, looking into his eyes.
Again, Gilbert froze. "You're… what?"
"A nation! Well, technically speaking I'm a micro nation, but still! My brothers Australia and Zea and my uncle England and America said I could only tell 'the others', and you're one! You're Prussia, one of the ones that shouldn't exist! Oh, but you were probably scared shitless that I knew! LOL, just like uncle Iggy's reaction when he learned I'd gained sovereignty!" she said with such verve it was surprising she didn't explode from all the happy.
"You're… a nation? Like me?" She nodded, smiling happily. Stepping back, Gilbert sighed with relief. He let her down off the wall and apologised for holding her hostage. "So, what's your nation-name? And how old are you, really?"
"I…" she began dramatically, "am the human personification of the People's Republic of Awesome. And I am really only about… seventeen. I've been a nation for like four years – I was founded in 2010, though I've been a 'sovereign nation' for about two seconds."
Gilbert laughed at the name. "Well, I certainly believe you're deserving of the name 'Awesome'. And really? That young?"
Matilda scratched the back of her head nervously. "Yeah, and you're like, what, two thousand? You're so old, old man."
He decided to ignore her last comment, for the sake of her awesomeness, and laughed again. "Looks like your history skills aren't as good as I thought. This certainly explains them, though. No, I'm not that old, I was only like 550 years old when I was abolished…."
She nodded in reply, a cheeky smile on her face. "Well I wasn't exactly taught much about Prussia. It's not really talked about much nowadays."
They both turned the direction Matilda had come when they heard shouting.
"So, that's England?" he asked with an amused smile on his face.
She nodded, and looked at him before quickly saying, "Yes. Him and Australia. The meeting's done and I'd better get going before I get killed for what I did." And with that, she ran off, turning only to yell a hurried "We'll see each other again next meeting! I'll make sure of it!" before turning back and disappearing into Hyde park.
Gilbert waved after her, looking around to see Arthur racing around the corner with bright pink hair and a slightly flushed visage. He almost laughed before Arthur put a hand over his mouth and said threateningly "Tell anyone and you die, phony nation," before running to follow Matilda.
Gilbert refused to point out that the nations and a few of Arthur's own citizens probably already knew.
Just as he disappeared into the same park, Kyle came around the corner, looking not half as tired as Arthur and kind of amused. He stopped next to Prussia, watching where the others had gone before smiling.
Gilbert turned to him and laughed. "So, another one, then?"
Kyle turned back to him before laughing as well and replying "Yeah mate, unfortunately, other one."
…..
That was only the first in a multitude of gatherings for Matilda and I. Remember what she said about the next meeting? Well…
…
Wellington, November 2014
The next time Gilbert saw Matilda was the next world meeting, a month after they first met. They travelled with their siblings, and all the while, Matilda kept annoying Kyle into giving them space at the table.
"Aww, c'mon Oz! Just a few more seats? Me and Wy and Hugelmugel and Hutt River and Sealand and Molossia and all the others…. We really wanna be there! You know you want to!" Matilda pleaded, her green-blue eyes fogging up with tears and her cheeks flushing with colour that was most likely something to do with the warm weather.
Kyle looked at her for a mere second before bursting out laughing. "What'd I say, RoA? Me and Berwald have already taken care of it. You'll see them when we get to the room, okay? Also, I know crocodile tears; I've wrestled enough of them to know what they look like. Yours don't even come close," he said, patting her on the head before holding open the door to the conference centre. "Ladies first."
Matilda took a step forward, about to walk through the door and into the flashy lobby, when her new Prussian friend rushed in out of nowhere, barging through the door and yelling a quick 'thanks, mate!'
Kyle and Matilda just looked to each other, before bursting out laughing.
"Yeah, ladies first."
Matilda ran through the door after Gilbert, eager to see him again. She found him outside the door of the conference room.
"Hey, Matilda! Nice to see you again. You made sure we'd see each other again by bugging your older brother? Nice," Gilbert said, giving her a hug.
Matilda felt a little awkward in the hug, but smiled nonetheless. "Yep! Apparently, we'll see new chairs for you, me, Peter, Willa, and all the others once we walk through that door," she replied, nodding her head in the direction of the room.
Gil's head perked up excitedly, and he grabbed for the handle, but before he could open the door, Matilda laid her hand on his.
"Together, hey?" He nodded.
And, each with a hand on the brass door handle, they turned their hands and looked inside…
To find a small, round kiddy table sitting next to the big one, covered in a light pink table cloth and surrounded by chairs in differing colours, patterned to look like the owner's flags.
They froze, and, realising what Kyle had meant, Matilda's smile turned into a glare at the two hundred-or-so men and women sitting around the big table.
Kyle walked through the door with Berwald, smirking like a dingo at the two nations frozen beside the door.
"So, you guys like it?" Alfred inquired, his liberty-blue eyes looking up at them amusedly from under his glasses.
"We decided to call it the 'Phony Nation' table, after those who begged for it," Arthur said to Gilbert and Matilda, his colonial-green eyes flickering to meet Kyle's, whose own inherited green eyes wore the same expression as Arthur's. His hair was still a light pink.
The people at the big table looked at the latecomers expectantly, as if they we about to explode from anger and embarrassment.
But, instead of blowing their tops, Matilda and Gilbert sat down at their seats, faces pink. Peter and Willa, following them through the door, sat down next to them, their ears blowing steam.
The nations, looking at themselves, were thankful that the 'phony nations' had not thrown tantrums and wrecked the conference room. Continuing the meeting, they constantly gave Berwald knowing smiles, looking at the IKEA boxes leaning on the wall behind him.
They would regret the tea set they added the next meeting though, as they had not realised the growing population at the phony nation table were supplied with paint guns and plenty of ammo.
... (^J^)...
So…. How was it?
This bit I wrote while in Queensland like, at the start of the year. The author's note too eek :O
Well yeah….. blatant shipping will be occurring later! Huzzah!
Not a self-insert, just an OC. She was thought up by multiple minds. If you want a picture of her, like a pretty rough sketch, eek, my drawing skills have hopefully improved since then, I've put a picture up on dA. art/RoA-Awesomeness-387780367
FUUUUNNNNN!
So drop a comment on the pic and review if you feel like it!
…. I should really get to my RoChu fic…
Hope to see you next update 3
*sips tea*
Ozzie ozzie ozzie,
LI-BER-TEA!