Author's Note: I'm sorry for not updating for a while you guys; I've had school and writer's block to deal with. I really wanted to post something though, so I just wrote a filler chapter with failed attempts at humor and randomness. The characters are somewhat OOC too, sorry. Anyways, thanks to: Pervy Randomz Player BUHAHAHA, G Wings, Audacity-cupcakE, cake-error, Heixarn Mizu, ultimatebishoujo21, Maya-chan2007 and Axxi for reviewing! Oh yeah, check out the beginning of the first chapter if you want to know the pairings.
"Prussia," France started, face weary, acting like he was talking to a little kid (not really much of a difference to be honest), "As much as I would love to hook them up, it's not possible. Breaking them apart from their relationships is easy, but this is just too difficult.
"But Fraaance," Prussia whined, putting on his best puppy dog face. "You're the master of l'amour, you can do anything!"
"Well I suppose," France replied smugly, flipping his oh so flawless hair. "You embarrass me mon ami."
"Kissing ass so works, take that West! Who needs being honest when you can feed someone's ego!" Prussia thought triumphantly, inwardly smirking as he slipped a meek expression on his pale face. "So does that mean you'll help me…?"
"Why of course! I can showcase my fabulous skills!" France boasted, looking off randomly into the distance.
"Excellent… kesesesesese…" Prussia chuckled, immediately dropping the shy shota act (this act is seriously evil people, don't fall for it!).
"But," France said gravely, "If this works, the consequences are dire. Rosbif(1) and the petit tomate are going to KILL us! I'M TOO BEAUTIFUL TO DIE!" France then started sobbing uncontrollably, dreading his perfect face being marred by a bunch of barbarians.
"Please France, if my awesome plan works, which it will, for I am the awesomely amazing nation of Prussia, then Al and Toni will be so grateful than they'll protect us!"Prussia replied easily, brimming with overconfidence (arrogance).
"Look Gilbert, as much as I would love for Amérique and Espagne to become lovers, their personalties simply don't work together. Gilbert, I know about these things, for I am the MASTER of l'amour. You even said so yourself." France said exasperatedly. He did want to do this, but he knew it just wouldn't work.
"What are you talking about Franny?" Prussia asked, "They're both oblivious, remember that time at the strip bar?
*cue flashback*
"Hello sir, do you require any *cough* services from me?" A platinum blonde stripper waitress whispered, purposely showing off her cleavage (fake tits), steadying her slutty gaze on Alfred, but slightly perturbed by the bushy browed man besides him shooting her the death glare, and several men (Prussia and Denmark) nearby giggling like schoolgirls at the situation.
"OKAY!" Alfred grinned brightly, not noticing Arthur latch onto his arm angrily, or the leer the girl was giving him. He then leaned to whisper something in her ear, and she responded by giving him a peculiar smile and uttered a sure.
"What the hell did you just say Jones?" Arthur hissed protectively, not enjoying his boyfriend being so friendly with some whore.
"Chill Artie, I just asked if she wanted to go back to my car with me to-"
Arthur immediately cut out Alfred's voice, thinking about how Alfred wanted that slut to go back in his car for a quick fuck. He then decided to focus his sights on killing this skank now, and dealing with Alfred later.
"I could pull off the sexy waiter outfit waay better than you slut!" Arthur suddenly screamed, not caring about his status as an absolutely invincible British gentlemen and how you were supposed to treat ladies with respect. Anyways, that thing wasn't a lady, it didn't wear enough clothes. He then proceeded to launch at the whore, punching her right in her left raccoon-looking eye.
America grabbed the fuming Brit before he could do any more damage, and as he writhed violently in his grip America gave him a confused look.
"Geez Art, I was just asking if she wanted some medicine in my car for her cough, the hero always helps those in need."
As the bar seemed to freeze (with Prussia and Denmark trying to hold in chuckles but failing miserably), Spain broke the silence.
"Hey can I get some too?" he asked cheerfully.
All the nations, just stared at him, as America cheerfully responded with a sure.
Romano and England just stood there, dying on the inside.
*end flashback*
"Well I guess you're right about that," France admitted, "But-
"Not to mention they are both scarily possessive." Prussia continued, dismissing his friend's words. "Remember when that little girl started talking to Romano and England?"
*cue flashback*
America, Prussia and Spain wanted to impress their lovers pretty badly, and in a rare show of dependence they asked France for help.
"Ah mon ami's, asking me for help?" France said snidely.
"Por favor mi amigo, I really wanna impress my cute little Lovi," Spain begged, emerald eyes large and pleading.
"Weeell.." France said, resolve crumbling.
"Yeah papa France pleaase~" America added, using his infamous puppy dog eyes.
"Uhh," France was about to crack from the pressure until Prussia started 'begging'.
"Yeah Franny help us already Meindamnit!" Prussia growled.
"Since you're so rude, NON!" France responded defiantly.
Ten minutes later they were at the biggest rose garden in the world with their boyfriends. France's idea was to take them in a garden, where they could squeal over the flowers.
"Alfred look! Aren't those English roses just stunning!" England cooed, eyes sparkling happily.
"These flowers are kind of nice bast- Antonio." Lovino admitted, gazing at the beautiful lilies.
"Wow Prussia these are… oh what's the point no ones paying attention to me anyway," Some random blonde dude said. I think his name is America or something.
Spain, Prussia and America opened their mouths to respond, but a little girl beat them to it.
"I know right! These are just gorgeous." The girl gushed, her bushy eyebrows strangely familiar.
"Why yes they are Miss, might I say you look quite dashing," England gushed (he wasn't being girly, he was being a gentleman, which is pretty much the same thing).
"Yeah I guess you're pretty cute," Romano said mumbled, because despite his (anger management) issues towards men, he held a soft spot for the opposite gender.
America and Spain could only twitch vehemently at their lovers' words, thinking how they were never complimented. "I am a hero… heroes don't hate little girls… I am a hero… heroes don't hate little girls," America repeated this several times in his head like a mantra, trying to calm himself down. "That little girl is cute… I shouldn't harm cute things… that little girl is cute… I shouldn't harm cute things." Spain was repeating himself this in his head, while he watched that brat talk with his Lovi.
"Soo…" America said through clenched teeth, "What's your name little girl?"
"Wy(2)!" she answered cheerfully, her ponytail bouncing cheerfully.
"Because I'm the hero and you should tell me," America shot back, getting more annoyed by the minute. "My hero handbook never said that I couldn't beat up annoying little girls." America thought to himself, while plastering on a creepily eerie smile similar to a certain Russian.
"Umm…. Wy," she said again, giving America a strange look.
"Answer the damn question- I mean what is up with your eyebrows?" Spain then took a closer look at them, and saw they looked liked England's. Spain didn't like anything pertaining to England(3).
"What's up with your tomato shaped face?" The girl shot back, making Romano chuckle.
"And you with the bomber jacket," the girl continued, setting her sights on the American, "You're fat." England then had the nerve to nod in agreement, as Spain and America could feel their tempers ready to burst.
"I'm gonna kill you brat!" They yelled at the same time, angry that their boyfriends were being stolen by some kid. They leapt forward at the same time in opposite directions towards the girl, but she stepped back at the last minute with an evil smirk, letting the two nations crash into each other.
"Are you okay?" She asked with fake doe eyes, batting her long eyelashes.
"Don't mind those idiots," Romano said, shaking his head disapprovingly at the two nations still sprawled on the ground.
"Let us just enjoy these wonderful flowers," England added, pulling his nose up haughtily.
Spain and America could only lay there in contempt as they watched their lovers walk away with that little bitch.
*end flashback*
"Well I suppose-" France started.
"Lastly, they're both way too trusting, remember that party at Spain's place?" Prussia ended.
*cues flashback*
Loud music (which suspiciously sounded like Lady Gaga) blared throughout the house, while various nations either chugged alcohol, watched the World Cup, or if you were Sealand, plotting jerk England's death. The doorbell rang, and Spain rushed over there to open it. A large, glittery man clad in a trench coat, Team Edward turtleneck(4) and baseball hat stood smiling evilly to himself, mumbling something about eating retarded drunk faggots, but he tried to change it into a halfhearted smile when he saw Spain answer the door.
"Can I come in?" The gruff man asked, shifting his feet in anticipation and refusing to look Spain in the eye.
"Ok sure!" Spain replied cheerfully, not even bothering to ask who or why he was here.
"Man, you are such an idiot," the man muttered, shaking his head disbelievingly.
"I'm sorry, what was that?" Spain asked, cocking his head to the side.
"Umm… I said… that you are NOT an idiot… yeah that's right," the man stuttered, putting himself into attack formation, ready to leap at Spain if he showed any hostility.
"Awww how sweet!" Spain cooed, brushing off his stuttering as a speech impediment.
"Spain who the hell is this fat bastard?" Romano demanded angrily, popping out of nowhere.
"Heeey!" America frowned (not pouted, heroes don't pout).
"Not you, the other fat bastard!" Romano glared, pointing at the large man in the sexy turtleneck. "How did you get in anyways? You climbed in the windows didn't you!" Romano accused, already convinced that the man was a serial killer.
"Oh no," America said gravely, eyes widening comically, as he started to sing a familiar song by the extremely talented Antoine Dodson.
"He's climbin in yo windows
He's snatchin yo people up
Trying to rape em
So y'all need to
Hide yo kids Hide yo wife Hide yo kids Hide yo wife Hide yo kids Hide yo wife
And hide yo husband
Cause they rapin' everybody out here
You don't have to come-"
America's "singing" was interrupted abruptly by England, who was probably just jealous of his mad skills.
"FAEDAMNIT AMERICA STOP THAT BLOODY SCREECHING YOU CALL SINGING!" England screamed, tired of America's ridiculous antics.
"Guys guys! Stop arguing, dios mío! I let him in!" Spain soothed, trying to stop the impending argument in his house.
"Why would you do that?" America asked, confused at why someone would let a bed intruder into their house (then again, he lets France into his house… France=bed intruder).
"He seemed like a nice guy!" Spain replied enthusiastically, glancing eagerly at the large, gruff man.
"I'm not a serial killer! I'm a vamp- veterinarian! I thought I heard a dying animal in here so I came to check it out!" He then grinned nervously, showing off his… fangs?
"Well in that case you're free to stay!" America then flashed his 100 watt Hollywood grin, trusting anyone who has a heroic job like saving animals.
"FOOLISH MORTALS! I AM A VAMPIRE WHO WILL EAT YOU ALL!" The man screamed randomly, as he ripped of his trench coat revealing several forks holstered on his hips.
He then ate everyone except the awesome Prussia, the end.
*end flashback*
"That last flashback didn't even happen!" France yelled frustratingly.
"Well if a vampire did come to a nation party one day, it probably would," Prussia countered.
"Touché," France said, "But you just proved my point on how they wouldn't make good lovers. They have too much in common! Plus, they're probably secretly masochistic, why else would they hang out with two of the most temperamental and violent nations in the world ?"
"We can just manipulate their personalities, duh!" Prussia replied, as if it were the most easy thing in the world.
"And how exactly do you presume we do that?" France asked, feigning disinterest.
"Remember what I said earlier about kidnapping and blackmail….?"
Author's Note: Dun dun dunnnnn Fail Cliffhanger. Oh yeah since no one rejected Conquistador!Spain or Gangster!America, it will be added in later chapters. The real plot also comes in later chapters, stay tuned kiddies. Constructive criticism is really appreciated, or at least something about the story, because I want to make sure whether it's mildly entertaining or is just horrible (I really won't mind if you say it's bad).
(1) Rosbif is a derogatory term the French use for the British, which literally means roast beef. It's supposed to be saying how French food is superior to British food, but I don't know why they use roast beef as an example. I think it's pretty good…
(2) Wy actually is a real character, but she's only in the manga. I might have changed her personality, but not her looks. She really does have bushy eyebrows.
(3) Let's just say Spain still remembers when his totally huge Armada got pwned by a smaller English fleet.
(4) After much persuasion from my friends, I finally read Twilight. I recalled a scene where Bella and Edward are eating dinner together (well, Bella was eating), and she described how totally gorgeous he was in a turtleneck. A freakin' turtleneck. Really. I just had to put it in the story, sorry guys. Needless to say, I stopped reading.