Hetalia Oneshots (Book One)

Hitman Jones X Reader: Detest {Angst}

Okay bitches, you think I was 'romanticizing suicide' with my 2p! America X Reader? Well fuck you. You wanna see what it's actually like, without me romanticizing it? Here the fuck you go. To the person who requested, sorry I'm ruining your request with angry angst, but hey, ya' said ya' din't want fluff, so I hope you still manage to enjoy.

***

You see them all, their disgusted stares and you hear them. All of the cruel jokes and questions. You hate it. You hate them. You know in the deepest pits of your stomach that you could kill them, slit their throats, have them begging at your feet... but you can't kill people you know.

That's one of the two rules your job has. One, never kill someone you know, and two, your partner must be with you at all times.

You and Alfred break that rule.

You can't be together, you hate each other... but you still hate all of these stuck up brats even more. It's summer, you're going to wear a t-shirt and shorts... but those stares, eyes burning into your skin...

You despise it with every fiber of your being. You despise them. You despise yourself... you despise your scars.

Burns, cuts, stabs... your legs, hips and arms are covered in them.

Small, fading slits of purple... new cuts, deep and scabbed. The burns making your skin look wrinkled and old, the stabs leaving small chunks of you missing...

It's all ugly. Ugly like you, ugly like the people around you.

Years of self hatred and harm carved into your skin for people to stare at. And they do stare. Children gawk as their parents hurry them away, avoiding your eyes. Teenagers giggle and point...

You hate all of them, you hate them, you hate them, you fucking hate them!

But still, no matter what, you hate yourself more.

You still cut, you still burn, you still gauge.

But all that's coming to an end. You can't take it anymore, you can't take the cruel words, people turning you from their shops, everyone you fall for watching you with their pity, distaste filled gazes.

So you hurry. You hurry home, tears pouring from your eyes as your jostled by the crowd of students.

They ignore you. Ignore that your hands are grasping desperately at your skin, nails digging deep into your arms as you break into a run.

Your soft hiccups turn into sobs as you run, desperate for your salvation. Needy, tired and ready for death.

Time flys as you run. You can hear them still... their voices, mocking, hateful... you can hear Alfred among them.

He screams your name, but you don't stop. You just run. You've always been faster than him. He won't be able to stop you, to catch you, to convince you that it'll be okay.

Because that's what he does. He kills you with every soft look, every grin, every touch. He makes you believe he loves you, that he needs you and wants you. You fucking hate him for it.

No one can love a girl with scars, no one can love someone as deeply fucked up as you, even if the person doing the loving is equally as fucked.

With what feels like seconds, you're home. It's all a blur as you lock your door, stumbling to your bathroom.

Tears and red blur your vision as you tear through the porcelain room, searching for your blades. With no luck... that stupid fuck... that beautiful, stupid fuck... he got rid of them...

A scream of desperation leaves your lips as you grab a shaving razor, prying at the cheap plastic.

You don't feel the stings of pain, nor notice as your blood dampens the pale pink plastic.

With a surge of annoyance, you scream again and toss the razor to the ground, stomping on it. It shatters and cracks, the thin metal blades now free.

You can hear Alfred at your apartment door. Slamming and screaming your name. It's too late... he can't stop you. Not this time.

Without a moment of hesitation, you get to your knees, fumbling with bloody fingers to pick up one of the blades.

Everything flys by quickly. You manage to pry a blade from the bloody floor, immediately pressing it to your wrist. You can feel your blood rushing from inside the vein. There's no pause inbetween your movements as you shove the blade quickly into the vein, the spurt of blood not stopping you.

You don't feel the bite of the razor as you drag it slowly down your wrist, sobbing desperately.

You don't notice the slam of your door breaking down, but you do feel Alfred's arms, his screaming. It's all garbled.

The blood pouring from your wrist doesn't faze you, nor does the sharp pain of your split skin. You can't hear properly, can't see, and you don't care.

Your body's already numb, torn up fingertips cold as you lean back into Alfred, a choked laugh leaving your lips as darkness surrounds you. With a last smile, you let your head roll back so you're facing the shocked blonde. You don't understand the words that leave your mouth... but it doesn't matter. Nothing does. You have what you want now...

♤♡♢♧

Alfred slams at (y/n)'s door, screaming her name at the top of his lungs.

Others in the dorm are ignoring him, just assuming it's another fight between them, that she'd locked Al out of the room again... but they don't know.

Sobbing, the blonde slams his shoulder into the door, stumbling a little as it immediately gives way, the wood splintering and shattering as he darts to the bathroom.

He can't do it... no... he can't let her go. He needs (y/n). She's his partner, she cleans up after his messes, and he cleans up after hers.

He loves (y/n). He kills for her. He can't, he won't lose her!

He pulls her bloody form into his lap, grabbing her gushing wrist and pressing down on it heavily...

He needs to stop the bleeding... that'll work, right?

"SOMEBODY HELP! Please!" He screams, sobbing in pain as he holds (y/n) close, rocking her gently.

"It'll be alright (n/n)... I won't let you go... I'll help you..."

Alfred's blue eyes widen as (y/n) suddenly laughs, a weak, choke of a sound.

A sound he loves, but one that he'd never wanted to hear from her.

Sobbing, his hot tears falling over (y/n)'s face as her head tilts back, beautiful eyes glassy and a grin spread over her lips.

Alfred sobs even harder, pulling her close as she gurgles slightly on built up saliva.

"Hey Al... kill em all for me..." She chuckles softly, before her soft grins fades, body going limp in Alfred's arms.

He screams, and he doesn't stop. His hand squeezes tighter on her wrist in a desperate hope to keep her alive as the people in neighboring apartments hurry to get an ambulance.

He can't save people... he wants so badly to save her, to keep her close, happy and warm.

But Alfred's not stupid... she's gone. They all drove her to it, they killed her with their cruel words.

So he'll do just as (y/n) asked.

He'll kill them all... they won't get away for extinguishing his light... his sunshine.... his (y/n).

***

There ya fucking assholes. Oh fucking no, did I romanticize it too much? If you don't enjoy me romanticizing death, don't fucking read.