A/N: Hello, good stranger on the internet! How goes life?
Well, moving onto the fic, I know the title is pretty uninspired. But most of my creativity was used trying to interpret 64 prompts; not enough was left for a good title/summary…Besides, I wanted to finish this in time for my birthday as a (semi-pathetic) gift to myself! Except I failed in doing that, seeing as my birthday's on 9/30 and today's 10/1. (Oh, and did you know that yesterday was also Botswana's Independence Day?)
But that's okay, right? So anyhoo, moar notes.
1) This is split up into 8 chapters, 8 drabbles ('drabbles') each. Because I didn't actually finish all of these in time (I'll try to update every day or two, though), and besides, no one wants to read so much saccharine suckishness in one go.
2) The main reason for writing this was that I wanted to see more Prussia/Liechtenstein, even though I know it's crack-y and not exactly historically accurate. But I just think it's so freaking…cute. (/is brick'd) So…I just went and experimented with the couple. And also a bit with writing styles. Though this stuff's probably mediocre at best…
3) Liechtenstein's human name is Lili Zwingli. And for the most part, I arbitrarily chose either nation names or human ones in each drabble. So oftentimes, you can think of the characters as people, as nations, as magical shape-shifting unicorns—whatever.
4) I have more specific notes in the A/N at the end of the chapters. Asterisks will indicate that there are some.
5) If you were to actually want me to expand one of these, just tell me in a review and I'll see what I can do. No guarantees, though… ^^;
Long A/N is exceedingly lengthy because I talk too much. Let's just go.
Prompts 1-8
1. 2 a.m.
Liechtenstein opened her bleary eyes as the phone's loud ringing ripped her out of her state of unconsciousness. Not to say that she was actually fully awake yet. In fact, she simply lay in her bed for a few moments, listening to the rather bothersome sound and debating drowsily whether or not she should even bother to pick up. Just then, it happened to stop. Ah, well…she missed the call and that was that. Except the phone rang again, almost immediately after that thought.
This time, she managed to stumble out of her bed and hazily make her way toward the clamor without falling over from fatigue. At last, she found the phone on her work desk and groped for it, sitting down in a chair and internally sighing in relief when the ringing stopped. "H-Hello," she greeted, tiredness seeping into her tone.
There was a muffled voice on the other line. "Is…that you?"
The blonde country frowned a little as she recognized the speaker. "Th-This is Liechtenstein, Mr. Prussia. A-Ah, if you don't mind my asking…why are you calling me?"
"Liech—hic—ten…? Th-That you?"
Oh, she saw. "I-I'm sorry, Mr. Prussia, but…a-are you…drunk?"
"Pfft," scoffed the ex-nation, "n-no…not at, hic, all. Wh-What would make ya think that?"
Liechtenstein sighed at the blatant lie. "Um, I-Is there a reason you called at," she glanced around for a clock, "at two AM?"
"Whaaat…? It's not that late…early…somethin'."
"But it," the girl paused to yawn, "it is, sir."
"O-Oh…hey, Liechten…guess what?" He didn't wait for her to guess. "I'm over at Wessst's house! Kesesese… he's got lotsa beer, ya know…?"
"But…" Liechtenstein was a bit baffled now. "If you're at Mr. Germany's house…why did you have to call?"
She could hear Prussia audibly swallow. "Weeell, um…um…I think I mighta got the wrong number…"
"O-Oh? Th-Then, um, y-you don't have to answer me if you don't want to, but…who were you trying to call?" All she could hear in response was indecipherable mumbling. "Ah…I don't think I got that, sir."
"Pfft, don't—don't trouble yourself…I'm perfectly fine and awesome and stuff! I don't need that dumb, hic, bitch of a country! Dumb Hungary…rejecting me…again…kese…se…"
The Liechtensteinerin suddenly picked up on the quiet plead beneath his words. "You know…you can talk to me if you need to, Mr. Prussia."
"H…huh? No…I wouldn't wanna, like…take up yer time and all…aren't 'cha tired?"
"I-It's okay, Mr. Prussia. I don't mind." Well, she kind of did. But…she didn't want Mr. Prussia to feel alone. He didn't really deserve that, or at least she felt that that should be so. "Just…go ahead and talk if you feel like it."
"O-Oh…well…"
"Please don't feel shy. I would really like to talk. Especially if it makes you feel better." And even though he couldn't see her, she smiled.
It didn't take much more encouragement before they were talking until the sun rose and Liechtenstein fell asleep on the desk with the phone still in her hands.
.
.
.
*2. metaphor
(Do you, Mr. Prussia, think you could describe your relationship with Liechtenstein with a single metaphor?)
Wait, describe my relationship with Liechten…with a metaphor? Just one? …Why? I don't see a fucking point.
(It's for a—)
No, I don't care what you're trying to do—I don't wanna!
(Ah. Are you sure it's not because we don't have enough faith in our…'awesomeness' at poetry?)
Wait, wait, wait, what? Are you kidding me? Of course I'm an awesome poet! No, no—this shouldn't be hard! I'm great at poetry and shit, you know! So, um…let's see…
Honey? Marshmallows? Something sweet, because Liechten's sweet? No, that's…that's lame as hell. Something original!
Er…flowers! (Um, I don't think that's very origi—) Shut up! So…lilies, maybe. Because they're Liechten's favorite flowers! She loves them, and they're pretty and delicate and they smell nice…like her…no, shut up!
Fuck, um…birds? I don't know—they're small, they're cute. And baby chicks have blonde hair, like her. But…you asked for a metaphor about us. Ugh.
Um…trees, the moon, sunlight, sword fighting, a clock…? Hold on, what the hell am I talking about? Ah, fuck this!
Seriously, I don't have any cheesy, mushy-gushy words for you, dude. I mean, how's someone supposed to sum up a whole freaking relationship in just a few fancy-sounding words? I mean, I guess I could sit here and talk about me and Liechten for ages—but screw poetry!
(Well, then—?)
Oh, no. I'm not talking anymore, so don't ask me any more stupid questions! I'm leaving. Maybe Liechten's at home now…
Hey! Go the hell away and bother someone else!
.
.
.
3. sky
Something they happen to love doing is observing the sky from the top of a perfectly placed hill. There are no obstructions, no too-bright lights. It's here where they may sit or lie down and talk and hold hands, all while gazing up at the wide-open sky. Neither the time nor the weather (so long as it doesn't rain) matters. They'll watch the sun rise or set (though typically set, because he dislikes getting up early). They'll survey the stars (though not for too long, else her brother will come looking for her). They'll even meet when it's gray and cloudy. It's all one to them what kind of sky it is; they'll enjoy it together.
.
.
.
4. lost scene
They're lying on their special little hill again, watching as the sun finishes its daily journey and descends below the horizon.
As Prussia watches sunshine-stained clouds roll by and gradually darken, he is almost gripped by a sense of fear. The colors of this scene, this sunset melt away so easily, giving way to the typical black night sky, making beautiful blends and shades of reds, oranges, and yellows mere memories. For some reason, thinking of it that way just makes him wonder what will probably happen to him, one day. Much of his former glory (but…not his awesomeness) has already faded away. So just how long is there until it (he) has all waned, leaving behind only simple, empty darkness?
Prussia's grip on Liechtenstein's hand tightens suddenly, and the action does not go unnoticed. She turns her head to the side and watches him for second before asking, "Is there something wrong, Mr. Prussia?"
(He smiles momentarily at how she still refers to him. He has told her so many times that just 'Prussia' [or 'Your Awesomeness' or 'Awesome One'] is fine, but he knows she won't be calling him just that anytime soon.)
"Eh? No, Liechten…everything's fine." The words flow so smoothly off his tongue, and yet he knows she won't believe him. So he just sits up and she does the same. Sighing, he squeezes her hand again and says, "I hate to see the sunset fade away. 'Cause no matter what, that sunset won't ever be seen again." 'Cause now, it's just reminding me of the goddamn inevitable fact that—
"But at least the sun always rises again. It is not lost forever. It carries on, despite that sunset fading away. It…It finds a way and—besides," says Liechtenstein, breath catching for an instant.
"I don't…I don't think that the sun would ever forget the colors, the energy, the life…the beauty of that sunset." The younger nation ends by wrapping a second hand around his and giving him a tentative smile, which he can just barely discern in the dim light.
Prussia smiles a little in return. "Thanks, Liechten. Really. Now, ah…let's get ya home before your brother freaks."
.
.
.
5. degrees
One would expect the bold and brash Prussia to jump into a relationship head-on. And maybe he would with many of the other nations, but with Liechtenstein, things seemed to change for whatever reason. Some might contend that since he had just a little rationality about him, it was out of fear of the gun-toting Switzerland.
That was probably part of it, sure, but whatever the explanation, the Prussian couldn't bring himself to dive right in. Things were taken in little steps, in degrees. From holding hands for short whiles to quick hugs and quick kisses on the cheek and forehead to small pecks on the lips to kisses that lasted longer than a half-second—it was a long, gradual process, but if Liechtenstein was comfortable with it…he really didn't mind.
.
.
.
6. seize the day
Hanging out with Gilbert has taught Lili to be just a little less deliberate. Perhaps not for the better, but as he puts it, certainly "for the more awesome!"
Every other day generally involves one escapade or another, and she'd be lying if she said she didn't have fun. One day they went hunting for Gilbird's 'family' (and eventually succeeded in finding many similar yellow fluffballs—er—birds); another day they spent playing ding-dong ditch (which Lili felt was thoroughly juvenile, but she still found it within herself to enjoy it like her enthusiastic companion). Once, he spent a few hours teaching her how to sword fight (with sticks, so that her big brother Vash wouldn't kill him).
Other days, Gilbert just shows up at her house and they go get ice cream or head out to the park—simple things. They don't need to have daily 'adventures.' Really, as long as there is something to do—some way to make the most of each day—Lili is fine with just about whatever Gilbert suggests they do next.
.
.
.
7. opposite
Of course, Gilbert's typically a boisterous, intrusive, and overly friendly person. And not only does he look unconventional (from the white hair to the reddish-gray eyes), but he also acts that way at times. He isn't afraid of stepping on people's nerves (and maybe even of doing it on purpose) or of being rowdy and energetic or of being extremely easy-going (that is, lazy). And he absolutely isn't afraid of being overly self-confident (and thus obnoxious)—he is particularly egotistical, naturally, and he insists on being calling himself 'awesome' and being hailed as such by others.
It's true that Lili is anything but loud and blunt (unlike a certain Prussian). She has a tendency to blush, stutter, and wring her hands. She simply doesn't have the audacity (or outright carelessness) to not consider others or not think about how she appears, unlike him. Nor is she the type to regularly cast off her duties for distractions, no matter how fun. And she is a few things, but self-confident is probably not one of them. Even her appearance is mostly cute and soft-spoken, with modest green eyes and simple blonde hair making her look as shy, small, and embarrassed by attention as she acts.
Yet their relationship is oddly complementing. He can bring out the adventure in her, and she can bring out the sweetness in him. Sometimes she'll play along and sometimes he'll play nice, and all in all, they play off each other wonderfully. Yes, it's painfully obvious how opposite the two are, but one would be surprised how well they fit together.
.
.
.
8. passions run
A white-haired man sighs, and his hands wrestle with his gray tie. His brother said that this thing best matched his newly ironed black suit and that he supposedly tied for him it 'properly'. But obviously that meant it is supposed to half-choke him. He manages to loosen it just a little (such that he no longer fears strangulation by his own outfit), and then he stuffs his hands into his pockets.
The thing is, his French friend's extravagant balls always turn out pretty interestingly. (For example, he can see said man already trying to maneuver himself into the pants of someone drinking at the bar.) Yet besides pranks, drinking, and the rest of the same-old-same-old tomfoolery, there's not much for him to do at these things. He could always try to get a dance partner, yet despite his awesomeness, girls just don't have a way of falling into his arms. (He figures it's a bit of a mix between feelings of insufficiency and of jealousy.) So now he's just leaning against a wall, watching as guests file into the ballroom. Perhaps he'll find someone to bother.
And then he sees a blue hair ribbon on a familiar head of blonde hair.
For whatever reason, his heartbeat quickens when he sees this girl step onto the dance floor—naturally, at her brother's side—from across the room. Yet…he is normally calm enough, collected enough around the blonde. But now, when fitted with a sleek, shimmering turquoise dress with long sleeves and a skirt that flows smoothly to the floor, she looks truly…beautiful. Not simply cute, or sweet, or pretty. This evening, she has an especially sophisticated, elegant, mature air about her. And caught up in her presence, he finds himself walking over to her side of the room.
Before he realizes it, he's giving her a slight bow and holding out his hand. "May I have this dance, Miss Lili?" he asks, boldly and with complete disregard for her brother, who looks as starchy and uncomfortable as the older-than-it-looks black suit he's wearing. The girl, however, looks pleasantly surprised—almost eager—but nevertheless, it is her brother that answers him.
"No, Gilbert. In fact, Lili will not be dancing with anyone this evening."
As for the girl herself, she bows her head deferentially (disappointedly) and remains silent, starting to wring her hands. The man simply cannot stand it.
He seizes her hand and pulls her away from her brother's side, separating the two siblings with (surprisingly) little more effort than ripping away a loose thread. She stumbles a little as he quickly leads her to the center of the dance floor and stops, though not before twirling her about once. He smiles at her little peep of surprise, and admires the way her dress and her hair flare out slightly as she spins.
Then, she tries to stutter out a comprehensible comment. "M-My brother…h-he's—he'll be so angry, M-Mr. Gilbert."
He merely shrugs (though a little piece of him feels a small pang of panic) and replies, "Well, what's the point of coming to one of Francis' big and fancy balls dressed like that if you don't dance?" With this, he takes her hand up in his and places his other hand on her back. The girl, after a little consideration, tentatively places her hand on his shoulder, and soon enough, they're dancing.
To her, it's almost surreal to be caught up like this, in the moment—in the motion. The room's hardly more than a blur for more than a few seconds a time, and she's happily focused on the man in front of her. Moving to the lilting music, she can feel her dress sway and her hair brush lightly against her face and the warmth of his hands radiate…
…and he can see her pretty smile and her elated green eyes, gently shining with lightheartedness, and he can tell she just loves this and so does he and he feels so swept up in the moment and—
She lets out the tiniest squeak when he presses his lips to hers and a little sigh when he pulls away. They almost begin to lean in for another kiss, perhaps more passionate this tim—
"GILBERT! What did you just—? No, never mind! Whatever you did to my sister, I'm going to murder you for it!"
The white-haired man's eyes widen, and he feels a set of shaking hands push against his chest, urging him to hurry up and go. He heeds this signal and moves to sprint away, but not before laughing unexpectedly.
"Kesesese! I hope this was fun, Lili!"
From the dance floor, as she's watching the two figures run away, the girl smiles and whispers, more for herself than anyone, "It was."
A/N: Are you still alive after all those suckish drabbles? How many teeth did you lose? Do you have enough insulin? Okay, you alright now? Right, let's just move onto the singular note for this chapter.
2. No. No, I have no idea who Prussia's talking to. A random interviewer or something. I don't know.
And…that's the eight drabbles for this chapter! Good day, peoples!
