Just had to listen to some sad music to get myself in the mood to write this again. I really didn't feel like it, but I got myself on the verge of tears, imagined the events of this chapter, and here we are! Question for all of you so that I can get multiple opinions on this, is Hetaoni scary? I CANNOT handle scary things. No jump scares, nothing creepy, no gore (especially with real people. I can take it SOMETIMES in animation), like I can't do it at all. I've heard it's mostly just suspenseful which makes me think maybe I can stomach it but I don't wanna give myself nightmares. So y'all tell me. Scary or nah?
The song snippet on this one is really long, so it should help you guys figure out what the song actually is! I really want someone to guess it so I can recommend you guys go listen to it or watch an AMV of it. It's. So. Flippin. Sad. At least to me. It's odd because I don't cry for things very often, but boy oh boy can I get deep into my feels.
Prussia and Romano is not a like SUPER popular ship (not that this is romantically based. It's just, basically people tend to be like OMG CHARACTER A AND CHARACTER B ARE IN THE SAME ROOM AT THE SAME TIME ALONG WITH 100 OTHER PEOPLE BUT WHATEVER IT'S CANON!) but I tend not to like the popular ones. Not that I like this. But not that I dislike this. It's just, I'm on all the tiny ships - heck, tiny row boats - like Fruk, Germancest and AmeriPan looking at the USUK with their drama CD, IggyPan and GerIta cruise liners just like oh okay fandom I see how it is. So let's give a less popular ship than Prucan some love! And speaking of, GUSY, LOOK, THESE TWO SUPPORTING EACH OTHER IS CANON kind of AND therefore NOT TOO FAR FETCHED OR OOC. LOOOOK hetaliaachives dot tumblr dot com /post/111026397765/blog-update-the-one-that-wasnt-there
Finally, I HAVE to shout out you reviewers. I know the protocol on here is to PM people, but like I just don't do that. I know I PMed SOMEONE in an effort to comply with the standard, but, idk who :). Sorry, I'm too awkward for this life. So had I PMed you this is what I would have said. Emerlee54 glad you're excited. It's coming soon boo. And I'm not shipping anything here. I like to let my ships in my stories be mostly just hinted at, sort of like the anime I guess. The characters will interact, and you can decide if they're romantical feelings or not. *smiles evilly*. Prusya :DDDDD FLATTERY WILL GET YOU EVERYWHERE THANK YOU! Vaetta They do. Trust. It's just gonna take time for them to show it. AHP Native America You're hilarious you know. Smiles come to my face when I read your comments, but I think you've spent a lil too much time with Romano XD. I don't think I'll be abandoning this. I'm pretty into fanfic right now and I do like the story. So, fingers crossed? Keiryu-san Glad you like the mention of her! I figured if someone knew they were going to die, they'd tell all their friends and family, so that's kind of what I'm going here with Prussia informing many countries of it all. I love Heta families so even though the Germanic one isn't my fav, they'll all get their moment in the sun. And I feel like the other 2 reviews have been previously addressed so yay. From here on I will try to PM, but like, I have no memory, so we'll have to see *laughs awkwardly*.
Okay. Enough babbling. Let's start the chapter now. By the way, this chapter accidentally had a lot more Spamano, Gerita and Prumano than I'd intended. I mean you can consider it platonic if you want, it's not kissing or anything I just...it feels obvious now that I reread.
"Cover my eyes, cover my ears. Tell me these wounds are a lie." -SSW
"Let's make some pasta! We can put wurst in it instead of meatballs! It'll be good!" the Italian boy recommended, twirling on his left foot, smiling at his taller companion.
"Italy deserves a little treat from time to time, West." The 'West' in question furrowed his brows in thought as the Italian boy gripped his arm and frowned lightly.
"Please, Germany?"
"N-Nien. We're supposed to be working right now." With that the man released the smaller nation's fury - in the form of tears. Italy burst out crying and begging for pasta and a break which led to his elder brother leaving his spot on the couch. Perfect.
"What did you say to make him cry potato bastard?" tears pricked this one's eyes as well and the younger of the two started to pound lightly on the German's chest.
"Germany is so mean to me lately! I just want some pasta! Why don't you love me?" The blonde became visibly flustered at that last comment and opened his mouth as if to speak, but only shrank away from his friend, a blush dusting his cheeks. The two stood like that for a while, one blubbering, the other unable to form a sentence until Prussia, who had been sitting at the table with one arm thrown over the back, interjected.
"West, just let him make the pasta it's not that big a deal." The two German brothers stared at one another until the younger curtly nodded.
"I suppose it's okay just this once."
"VE!~" Italy smiled and floated towards the stove leaving Germany looked relived to be released. He made his way to the freezer to grab a package of wurst. Having been left in the middle of the kitchen awkwardly, Romano looked at his brother, then at Germany, then at the wall nearest him, and finally to Prussia. His gaze lingered there for a moment, before he scoffed and marched out of the room. The albino made a mental note of the number four. That was the fourth time since the two had come over that Romano offered Prussia an odd glance. The first time was when the boys originally arrived. Prussia had gone to answer the door. He greeted the friendlier Italian with a big hug and nodded at the other who looked him up and down, blushed, and glanced to the side. The second was when Germany and Italy had taken off to the upstairs office to work on something or other. Romano stared at him for a solid thirty seconds while Prussia watched his brother bound up the stairs. Finally, he sensed the eyes on him and glanced at Romano, who quickly glanced and walked away. The third was when the duo came back downstairs, Germany chasing after Italy for having not done his work properly. They raced past Prussia, sending a blast of wind through his hair. When he recovered from the shock and looked forward, Romano was staring in his direction yet again before he realized this and began to sip his coffee trying to "act natural".
As he finished recounting, Prussia glanced up from the table to see green orbs staring at him from behind the door frame. Five.
"I-Idiota," the tomato lover stuttered, blushing and glancing at the ground, "I need to ask you something so you better get over here!" With that he turned and walked away, Prussia getting up to follow. The two ended up sitting in the living room. Red eyes found any entertainment they could in the carpet, while the Italian rubbed his hands together and silence sat between the two of them.
"Uhm..." Roma paused to think through his thoughts, and Prussia looked up at him.
"I...well... h-h-how can you tell if someone is g-going to fade away, huh, Basterdo?!" The albino could've sworn his heart forgot it was supposed to be beating. How did he find out? Who old him? Who did he tell? Am I that obvious? Has GERMANY figured it out? He gulped.
"Wh-wh-why...why do you ask?"
"Because I'm just curious!"
"But, why are you asking me?"
"Weren't you around Germania and Grandpa when they...well when they died? You're the only person who'd know this stuff, dumbass. Why else would I ask you?"
The room filled with silence and all either one could hear was their heart hammering away in their chest. The sound of the clock ticking amplified as the albino rolled his thumbs around one another, staring at them and trying to process.
"Uhm, well, I mean, I...I don't-" Prussia was cut off by Romano's loud sigh.
"If you don't know then forget it, bastard! I don't know why I asked you anyways." He began to ramble, his words growing faster and faster, louder and louder. "All you pay attention to is yourself, so useless. You probably didn't even notice when Germania died. What is it with you, just potatoes and beer? But what did I expect? Forget I asked, asswipe. How could I be fading away anyhow?" He turned harshly, his one stray curl whipping behind him as he began to storm out of the room mumbling obscenities at the sky.
Until he was stopped by a cold hand grabbing his arm.
"How could YOU be fading away?"
Romano paused and reddened, realizing his mistake. He tore his arm loose and spoke to Prussia, still facing the exit. "T-The Italian government isn't separate anymore...so there was a chance me or fratello would... but you know what? Forget it!"
"Romano, sit down."
He didn't move, so, Prussia stood and placed both hands on his shoulders, gently guiding him back to the couch. The two looked at each other, one of which with eyes glowing a fierce magenta. His usual cocky smile was replaced with a sort of grimace as he searched through the others' face for signs of insincerity. He found none, just a genuine concern below the Italian's scowl.
"I may know a way, actually," the red-eyed man stated before edging out of the room. He returned moments later, one hand lingering slightly behind his back. He kneeled in front of the other in the room, set down whatever was behind his back, and began to roll up one of the legs of the others' pants.
"Hey! What do you think you're doing?!" Roma cried, and he was ignored as the man rolled his pant leg up as far as it would go before revealing the kitchen knife behind him. Quickly, prior to the other had a chance to object, a thin slice was taken from the skin.
"OW! WHAT THE HELL?!" Romano continued to go on ignored, as Prussia grabbed a paper towel from his breast pocket and used it to dab away the bit of blood trailing down the Italian's leg.
"So now," Prussia's voice was deep and had lost all of it's usual sense of playfulness, "you need to wait for it to heal and see how long it takes." The other nation's anger was quickly replaced by understanding as his eyebrows raised and scowl faded. The sound of footsteps interrupted their saddened stares as Prussia was forced to quickly cover traces of his handiwork and take a seat on the couch next to the other.
"Pasta is ready~!" Italy yelled, lunging into the room. His brother and friend got up and followed him to the kitchen, both oddly quiet, but the bubbly, oblivious Italian barely noticed.
Romano was sitting on his bed, alone yet again in he and his brother's quiet house. Italy had gone off with his boyfriend - or so Romano called him - and left him to sulk alone for what felt like the millionth time. His eyes lingered on the illuminated screen of his phone as he pondered weither or not he should press 'new message'. Hanging out with the Spaniard wouldn't be so bad would it? Yes he would bother me and say cocky things, but I'm lonel...or rather, Spain just needs someone to watch out for him. The idiot would end up stomped to death by a bull if I didn't help him. I could just ask him a-
Ping.
Romano's thoughts were disturbed by a new message. He pondered the glowing name on the screen. Potato Bastard #2 (84). The tomato lover knew exactly what Prussia's 84th message to him would be, and he also knew he was scared of it. After a moment longer spent silently debating, he finally opened their tread.
"Romano, is the cut on your leg still there?" He set down his phone on the mattress beside him and began to shift till his leg was comfortably out from under the sheets. Leaning down, shaky hands began to peel back the thin pajama bottoms he was wearing. The man couldn't help but close his eyes as the material glided further and further up his leg. Romano released the material and fanned his face, hopping to cool his body back to an acceptable temperature, and breathed deep heavy breaths begging his heart rate to calm down. Finally, the man glanced at his leg.
Red as a rose, a small but significant cut had just begun to scar over on his calf. It had been four days since the wound was inflicted.
"Yes" He replied and tried to swallow despite his dry throat. The man went to lick his lips and realized his tongue was dry too. A trembling right hand held the phone as he waited, a bead of sweat already dripping down his back. Respond already dickface. Why is he not replying? He felt nervous tears prick at his eyes and began again to fan his face and breathe heavily, each breath feeling like a stab wound to his dry vocal chords. Hurry up you damn bastard.
Ping.
He paused.
He read the screen, then reread it. He looked at his reflection in the mirror across from his bed, then glanced back down and reread the screen again. The message remained.
"I'm sorry Roma"
Romano felt his heart slowly thump to a slow stop as his eyes widened. Sorry? Sorry for what?
"You can't be serious." It came out as barely a whisper as his voice cracked and a hand raised to cover his trembling lips.
"Sorry for what?" he forced himself to say, as if he didn't already know. Sorry that he hadn't healed at even close to the rate of a real country. Sorry for the fact that his very existence was at risk of ending.
Tears fell. They rolled down supple, tanned cheeks, over a quivering hand, and onto the bed sheets. He closed and covered his eyes and begged his phone to have been lying to him when he opened them. He begged God, and Romania, the spirits, the stars, and anything else he could think of to please either let that wound be a lie or the message he thought he read to have been wrong. When he opened them again, nothing changed and he gripped his calf, trying to focus his tear-blurred vision on the cursed scar.
"HEAL DAMN YOU!" he spat out to it, "HEAL! PLEASE!"
It only stung.
"I'm sorry Roma"
He had typed and sent that message while buckling his seat belt. By the time it had processed and gone through, Prussia had pulled out of the driveway and was headed straight for the Italian's house. Every stop sign or red light he got, he would glance back at his phone and still no response from Romano.
"I'm sorry Roma"
Maybe it was too harsh. Maybe it was too sudden and he should've worded it differently. Prussia himself had plenty of time to deny and slowly come to accept his fate, whereas it had all been thrown onto Romano like a brick building. He should've called, or simply gone over without responding, or said something more sincere. He should've been more understanding.
Feeling very lucky for having lived in a country with no real speed limits on the highway, the albino raced down to the peninsula to make amends. Was he really so stupid? To just say he was sorry? Not even explain or offer any support? Just a halfhearted sorry?
What felt like decades later, Prussia tumbled out of the car faster than the seat belt would have liked him to and raced inside. The Italians didn't lock their front door, a bad habit, but a useful one never the less. Down the hall, up the stairs, down that hall, second door on the right. It was Romano's room according to Prussia's memory and the 'keep out' sign plastered to the door. Ignoring the sign's warning, he turned the doorknob and peered in. Maybe keeping out wouldn't have been so bad.
The Italian man sat on the floor, head in his arms which rested on the side of his bed. His phone was still on the bed, center focus of a certain rumbled section of the sheets. His body shook and light sobs left his lips.
So that's how he reacted? Not denial or anger or anything, but by crying? The Italian brothers were infamous for crying. Crocodile tears were not even a thought for them as even the slightest disturbance left them sitting in a pool of salty tears. However, Romano wasn't just crying there. He was scared. He was grieving. He was trying to accept and also trying to deny or possibly hope. His cries were not of discomfort or displeasure, but of a bone deep pain.
It was hard to watch.
"Romano?"
"Get out!" The snap back in his rich accent wasn't even the slightest bit surprising to the albino as he took a step closer. He knelt down and placed a hand on the broken man's shoulder.
"Ro-"
"I SAID OUT!" he slapped the hand away and Prussia had a moment to look at the man's face. Look at the fear, fury, and hurt in his eyes, look at the angry brows pointing downwards towards the trembling lips, look at the red and pink dotted cheeks, puffy from strain, and look at the crystal clear tears sliding down his face. Just a moment before Romano slipped back into his arms and sobbed louder.
"Romano, I'm sorry."
"I KNOW, I SAW."
The albino couldn't help but inwardly cringe as his repeat offense, but somehow it was all he could think to say.
"Romano, I-"
"SHUT UP AND GET OUT!"
"But-"
"WE GET IT, OKAY? I'M WEAK!" his voice cracked at the strain, "ITALY WILL TAKE OVER BECAUSE I'M WEAK! I'M FADING! I'M FALLING, I'M-" he whimpered and shook his head. "I'm nothing anymore. We get it."
Roma could feel his tears burning his eyes and silence befell the room. Weak. Him. Maybe he wasn't the best painter like his brother and he couldn't dance like Spain. He didn't necessary have a way with words or weapons and he knew good and well he could only get the ladies his little brother wasn't already flirting with, but, weak? He felt a persistent man's hand rubbing on his back. Weak.
"I'm sorry Roma. I get it." A sudden and vicious wave of anger swept across the weak nation's body.
"YOU GET IT? No the hell you don't ass wipe! Don't you DARE call me Roma! You don't GET what it's like to be-"
Finally, it was Prussia's turn to interject. "Romano I do understand how you're feeling."
"NO YOU-"
"Do you think not being a country anymore has just been a cake walk for me?" It came out a bit sassier, well, angrier than the nation had intended. All the soft support he'd tried to coax into his tone disintegrated with that remark. Romano stared in shock, fresh tears still falling, but he was too shaken to gasp for air or protest the other nation's presence.
"How long do you have?"
Prussia chuckled sadly. "It doesn't work like that, Roma. I don't know." He drew back, expecting backlash for his second "Roma" mistake, but received none. Depressed eyes squinted at him, and the Italian man, for the first time in his life, referred to the man before him by first name.
"Prussia," it stunned them both to hear that sound protrude from his lips, and as another hot tear lined his olive skin, a whimper of a whisper came out. "I don't want this." His voice wavered, heart broke, and a fresh, new wave of tears and sobbing over took him. A pale, unsure hand rested on his shoulder before the man collapsed forwards, hiding his tear-streak-en face in the other's chest. Prussia pulled him in close and held him tightly, half hoping to squeeze the pain away, as Romano covered his eyes and whispered to himself in a soft Italian.
"What's the worst part of it all?"
"The worst?" the man brushed a white bang away from his eyelash and pondered. "I'm so proud of West, but, I just..."
"Wish it was him and not you?"
"Yea...but..."
"You're also kinda happy it's you?" The albino laughed heartily and leaned back, plopping his back on the bed they were sitting on the edge of.
"You really do get it."
"It's...nice to have someone in my situation. Even a beer whore like you." The duo sat in silence feeling the light glow of the sun dust their skin. They had stayed up all night, shifting around the room from the floor to the bed, to chairs in the corner and now back to the edge of the bed just talking. Talking about their fears, their insecurities, things they liked, the things they still wanted to do, anything. It was odd for both at first, realizing that their seemingly bitter or cocky companion had emotions beyond what they showed the world, but it slowly started to make sense. Romano, according to Prussia's new understanding of him, has always been jealous of his brother and begging for his, or Spain's, or Ancient Rome's approval. Now he felt he'd never get it. Prussia, according to Romano's understanding, was once as awesome as he now claims to be, but as he gawked over his little brother and put all of himself into raising him into a beautiful country, his own fell apart, and now he hangs on by a thread.
"It's good that it's me," Romano finally said, "I mean...it honestly should've been more obvious. The idiota I call a brother can't do anything without bursting into tears - he couldn't handle this. Besides, no one even calls me Italy. They'll all probably forget about me nice and easy."
"No one's going to forget us." Romano raised an unconvinced eyebrow at his friend. "Spain will remember you. And France. And North. And I would say Germany but he better be too busy remembering me." That stifled a laugh from the brunette as he plopped down on the mattress as well. He held a hand up and tried to spin it as fast as the ceiling fan.
"Speaking of the Potato fetish, does he know?" The other man hummed back and shook his head. "You planning on telling him?" Another shake of the head. "You should."
"Well, you should tell North." Romano furrowed his brow at this and exhaled deeply.
"He can't handle this. He'll cry for the rest of my life."
"And West would-"
"Cry?"
"Doubt it, South Italy, he would just...I don't know really. But I feel like it'll be unawesome and I don't want to subject him to that."
"South Italy?"
"It's what you are isn't it?" It had explained why Prussia had suddenly swapped to calling 'Italy' 'North'. The brunette couldn't help but allow the smile prickling at his cheeks to grow. It had been a long night of nothing but pouting, so this was a nice break for him to grant his face.
"Don't suddenly start calling me that out of guilt, Dickfart." The grin widened.
"The whole compass is in trouble," Prussia responded. When his companion's reply was a turn of the head towards him and a look of general confusion, he decided to elaborate with pointing gestures from the sky, to Romano, to himself and back to the sky. "North, South, East, West." The bed began to rumble, shocking both into jumping away from each other, until they realized it was just Prussia's phone. He picked it up from deep underneath the sheets and scanned the screen before standing up.
"Burder is wondering where I've run off to. I oughta go return his car."
"Okay. Well...bye, Prussia." The albino laughed.
"Come on. Your bruder is probably at over there too."
Romano frowned and knitted his brows together before barking out one of his usual, awkward and shy responses masked by rudeness. "Alright. Not that I haven't spent more than enough time with the freak of nature, mini me, and brainless brawn lately." East only laughed in response and led his ally to the bathroom, urging him to get dressed. Both men, now on either side of a wooden door glanced at their new wound that refused to heal up fast enough, before rolling their clothes over top them, imagining the other man doing the same, and smiling to themselves.
Well! That chapter accidentally ended up WAY WAY WAY WAY longer than I'd intended. I felt like I kept using the same insults for Romano and tried to mix it up at the end, so, hopefully it worked out okay. Also, I hope you didn't think Roma was too OOC. I just mean, he MUST have feelings other than hatred for people like he puts off. Hima rarely shows that side of him so I didn't know how to go about it but...I hope it was okay? I wrote this one a little differently, with time skips and a focus on dialog so that's probably why it's so dagum long. Also I didn't focus much on crying this chapter because like he's always crying and there's going to be a lot of tears in this story so I want to save my "talents" for later. This chapter took me three days to write, so, I hope you guys like it. Today I learned neither the word potato or tomato end in e. I'm a horrible speller.
Apparently Austria and Prussia have a drama CD too. Here's my reactions (this one has highlights from both USUK and PruAus drama CDs). This video has an intro. SKIP. Okay, now I've paused at the first moan 40 seconds in. Laughing, scrolling through comments, laughing more at "all I do is sin sin sin no matter what, got YAOI on my mind I can never get enough". Okay. I'm gonna press play here we go. Lord, forgive me.
OH MY GOOODDD! I USUALLY LISTEN TO DUB BUT I CAN TELL IT'S THEM AND SORT OF UNDERSTAND THIS OH MY GOOOOOOOODDDDDD! Who has the higher voice in sub? THE ONE WITH THE HIGHER VOICE IS BOTTOMING! IS THAT ENGLAND? I WILL DIE EITHER WAY BUT STILL OH MY GOOODD! HE'S TELLING HIM TO WAIT. "Matei, matei somebody-san!" "Matei...urashi" TOO HAPPY TO STOP?! IM DYING! Paused again at 2 minutes in. The moaning was too much. My stomach is tingling. I can't do this. *rewinds a bit and presses play despite that last statement* Okay. Now it left the USUK and has swapped to PruAus. Oh those voices I can tell again who's who. It's so...aaaahhh! My soul! Okay. This is kinda hot. Shame on myself for letting my yaoi heart slip out. Oh it sounds so painful. Oh I can't. I can't i cant i canticanticant! I CAN'T! THE MOANING IS SO CLOSE TOGETHER HOW FAST IS HE PUMPING?! WHY IS THERE PIANO MUSIC AS IF IT'S AT ALL APPROPRIATE?! These poor voice actors. First you made them sing and now this? The booty kinda sounds like squishing ur hand in mayo or macaroni. Lol. Okay, piano music seeing me out. Video over. There's links to other drama CDs. I am very very VERY tempted to click one. Christ. I need some holy water that was not okay.
Please review because it makes me happy and I kinda like hearing what I did well and what I could improve upon. Also I'd love more opinions in the reviews on if hetaoni is scary. Finally, and I feel like I'm going to regret saying this, but, if y'all request, I'll react to another drama CD after the next part. Need something to lighten the mood after all the...like...crying. Okay. I gotta go, this chapter is over 5 thousand words, literally DOUBLING the length of this. This story is fun to write but Jesus Christ I need to tone it down. Alright, bye guys! Luv you!