Warnings: Expletives & stereotypes. As stated in my profile, I fail at writing humour so, do proceed at your own risk. X3
Disclaimer: Please take the time to read the (lengthy) standard disclaimer on my profile page. It's for all my Hetalia stories, so once you've read it you'll never have to read it again. Cheers!
Story #11:
"Act One"
They needed to inspire people, so they decided to have a play. And it was a play with a princess, and a prince; and an auxiliary hero -for whatever reason they couldn't imagine- but they did anyway. That was the topic of that morning's meeting…
And so, at the Hetalia Gakuen Theater Club…
Of course, everyone didn't bother asking who the hero would be. France immediately proclaims himself "Prince Charming" with a flourish that caused the female (and a few male) attendants around them to hyperventilate and redden; which instantly earned a loud unreserved snort from England. Seated beside the French Republic as always, he scoffed up at France and remarked that they didn't need a "frog", but a real prince.
"Don't get confused, old man!"
France puffed through his nose as he sat back down, and with perfect princely composure drew out a rose from his pocket and brought it up to his lips with a breathy retaliation that was something along the lines of, 'But of course you would not know what zat is, Monsieur Eyebrows.'
England winced ever so slightly. "I know perfectly well what that is, thank you very much, you PRAT." To which France merely batted his eyelashes at.
China sighed, "Do you two tight asses not ever get tired of bickering?"
A chuckle ensued from Japan. He was certainly not getting tired of being amused by it. The well-hidden mischievous side of him even enjoyed it, and that's when he was suddenly struck with a brilliant (well, mostly really just naughty, and stupid) idea…
America didn't even seem to notice that the two rival Nations were at it again, and was already reiterating (for the umpteenth time) that as long as he got to be the hero, he didn't mind who was bitching who.
"Isn't the prince, already supposed to be hero…?" China faintly grumbled.
"And Russia and China will be King and Queen, Italy and Germany also, and oh yes, the princess! That could be—"
Before anyone could react, Japan bolts upright from his chair, hand raised as high as he could manage without rumpling his suit, and in his own brand of conservative urgency, immediately earning everyone's startled stares.
"Y-Yes, Japan?" America himself was a bit too taken aback to fuss about how he was interrupted.
"I vote that England-san be princess!"
The person in question who had momentarily taken a break from annoying France, and happened to be cliché-ly sipping his proverbial cup of Earl Grey tea at that particular moment, was unable to stop himself from spurting a mouthful of it all over his seatmate.
"Why the bloody hell am I princess?!" he sputtered. And quickly muttered a half-hearted apology to France who was eyeing him wryly, attempting to look belligerent but really— he was drenched in Earl Grey and spit so it was futile. The French Nation sincerely couldn't decide to which he wanted to react violently to first: Japan's absurdly insane proposition; or to England's cunningly deliberate attempt to upset him further by spitting tea all over his perfect hair and fine suit. His mind quickly chose the former…
"I OBJECT!"
England and France had said with perfect unison and intensity. Narrowed eyes and burning glares followed, as the rest of the congregation stared.
"JINX!" Italy chimed in with his usual displaced enthusiasm. "Hurray! I get to make a wish! I wish for the play to be about pastaaaaa!"
"Okay!" America piped in, once again oblivious to all the tension mounting in the room. "As long as I'm the hero, I don't give a hoo-ha! I'm fine with it, the limey gets to be the princess, no objections? Great! Now that that's settled—"
"Are you bloody deaf?! I just vehemently objected right there!" England spat, looking positively outraged.
"Aiyah! I not understand. Why fairy tale with prince still need hero…?"
"Maybe prince an' princess need rescuing from each other, dah…?" Russia piped in smiling eerily in response to China, both now had their eyes on the imminent "royal rumble".
"And I second my objection!" France said coolly, rose still being twiddling between his lips and fingers. "I deserve to 'ave a real princess, not an unsophisticated barbarian 'uu is trying to pass off for one."
"Like I would want to have a drunken frog-faced, snail-eating bearded bastard like you for a prince?! STOP FLATTERING YOURSELF!" England bellowed livid, eyes glowering, and vein popping in his temple.
"Mon ami, even if you were ze last princess on Dieu's green earth, I wouldn't—"
"YOU WOULDN'T WHAT, HUH?!" England challenged, and before France even had a chance to say anything, chaos ensued. A cloud of dust started to build up around the two, as fists and foots were exchanged, as well as an array of colourful insults, some of which the other Nations already even knew by heart.
"If princess dies, I can be new princess, dah?" Russia offered, which earned him a cold flabbergasted stare from China.
"Pasta!" Italy squealed enthusiastically.
Just then Germany entered the room, snagging everyone's attention, except France and England's, who were hurting in different places but still affording a glaring competition. The burly Nation didn't think it was anything out of the ordinary to any of them by now, so he continued, waving a slip of paper in one hand as he prepared to speak.
"Alright, listen everyone! I have finally finished gathering all the student's votes as to what they want us to perform! I trust all went well here with the casting?" he narrowed his eyes at the congregation, scanning for any suspicious or guilty looking faces.
America smiled broadly. "Peachy."
"Good." Germany unfolded the paper and cleared his throat. "I know we originally couldn't decide on what to perform, but you all wanted to get over with casting the main parts so we could move on, and I didn't see a problem with that…"
"So what did they want to us to perform?" asked Hungary curiously.
"The Princess and the Frog."
Everyone stared speechless for a few moments, with France and England looking especially horrified.
"We will, adjust the casting if needed of course."
"No!" came the cries of many, and the laughter that ensued unsettled Germany a wee bit.
"The casting is perfect!" smiled Russia evilly.
And even England couldn't help but burst into uncontrollable snorts and chortles.
"Don't be so 'appy so soon, England. Remember, you 'ave to kiss me!"
"Like that would do you any good, you'd still be a bloody wanking frog!"
"It would most probably turn you into a frog too because you are not at all a princess, but it would be a definite improvement!"
And their fistfight resumed (which led to other expectedly unexpected things).
Japan smiled, satisfied with his handiwork. Across the room, Hungary winked at him with an enthusiastic thumbs up; a pocket-sized H.D. video recorder in her other hand.
And the meeting concluded with America deciding everything as always, since no one else bothered to give their input anymore, all quite impatient for the meeting to end.
In one corner of the room, clutching a toy polar bear, a Nation that looked strikingly like America except with a more swirly cowlick meekly spoke up to no one in particular, "I really wanted to participate this time…"
"Who are you?"
"I'm—" A sigh. "Oh, never mind."
The End.
Notes:
I think this was my very first attempt at fanfiction for the Hetalia fandom. The draft of this was originally serious and multi-chaptered but my muse changed her mind. As always, cheers for reading & leaving some love! 8D
(10/07/2012 – 04/01/2016)
X-posted: LM_Artless {AO3} / frukdilection {dA}
My DBZ & other fics: MariekoWest {AO3} / MewrSaidTheCat {FFnet}{dA}
Original (Hetero-)Stories & Prose: Lovisa_Baobab {AO3}
Blog/Works Archive: mariexfolie {fc2 blog}