My friend RamblingRose17 requested a cracking!Prussia fic, to match the Russia fic of the same genre that she also req'd (You can read it from my profile, it's called rUsSiAN RoULeTTE). I decided to do a sorta songfic type thing here.
You've had me working overtime with all your angst fics, darlin'. Give me something cheery next time. :P
Hetalia belongs to Hidekaz Himuruya. The title and all lines in italics belong to the Beatles song Happiness is a Warm Gun. It's on the White Album and used in Across the Universe (the movie), too.
Prussia sat on the crumbling wall and stared blankly at the darkening sky.
This was it, he supposed. This was the end.
It was strange. Everyone was celebrating, but he was almost crying.
I need a fix 'cause I'm going down
He knew, then, that he was dying. He knew that he couldn't hang on much longer. He had been given a second chance after the war, a second chance gifted to him by –of all the people- Russia, who had given him a slice of land.
Russia, who had nearly killed West, enslaved practically the entire North, and treated him like a bitch to be slapped around and fucked when needed.
Down to the bits that I left uptown
But Russia had inadvertently saved him. He had had, for a short time, his own country again. He had lived. Lived as East Germany, lived with people and been a nation again.
But that was over.
He knew West was celebrating. He knew that the reunification was probably the best thing for it. But he still felt a worm in his heart, eating away at him.
West was living. West was happy.
I need a fix 'cause I'm going down…
Prussia groaned and ran his fingers through his spiky white hair. When he pulled the long thin digits over his eyes, he saw that they were trembling. He clenched his fist to make the shaking stop, but his whole arm just started shivering.
Was this it? Was he going to die now?
What would happen?
When he died?
Did nations really die?
Where did they go?
What will happen when I go?
This wasn't how it was supposed to work. He, the awesome Prussia, could not be consigned to some dusty old history book, a vague, shadow of a country that eventually faded to the back of everyone's minds.
France. France and Spain- would they remember him? France and Spain and Germany and America, and Poland (he was sorry about Poland, really, but it had orders) and Lithuania and Italy and Hungary and Austria and-
Happiness is a warm gun
Prussia felt sick. Like he was being peppered all over with bullets.
He had been through so much war. There was no way he was going to just- fade. Fade into nothingness.
He gripped the handgrip of his Walther and ran a long pale finger down the shiny barrel. He smiled at the gun. He smiled at his reflection in the steel.
Happiness is a warm gun
His eyes were red. He grinned at himself. "So awesome. Too awesome. Awesomely awesome."
He reached to his neck and rubbed the Iron Cross hanging there. He murmured little things to the war honor, little memories of conflict and fire and blood on his uniform.
He had had so much. He had had everything.
What did he had now?
When I hold you in my arms
He gripped the Walther tighter.
And I feel my finger on your trigger
He smiled to himself and rocked back and forth on the crumbling wall. He sang a tuneless song to himself. A song he might have made up, or perhaps West or his grandfather had sung it to him once.
I know no one can do me no harm
Both his hands were shaking worse than ever now, but he took no notice. Die? Fade? Him? Prussia? Never. He was going to live forever; he was going to conquer the world. He was going to rule the fucking world and it was going to be his fucking bitch.
He had his gun. His reign would be forever.
Happiness is a warm gun…
Yes it is.
Yes it is.
Oh god, that was terrible. Sorry, Rosie, that I couldn't give you anything better. *facepalm*
I'm going to go watch Across the Universe now, and drool over Maxwell and Jude. Then I'll eat ice cream and kettlecorn.
That'll make everything better.
if anyone wants a fic request, PM me please! there are details for requesting on my profile. ^^