SECOND CHAPTER, WOO.
I'm really excited that I actually got reviews for this story, considering the pairing is so under-appreciated!
I actually go through the re-read and re-write process for this story- which I never do for any of my stories- because I really want other people to like this pairing, too. AND I SWEAR I WILL MAKE YOU LIKE IT.
ALRIGHT. Pairings so far: SUFIN...
...Lol.
You can thank Tallisa of Swallow's Crest for this chapter. SHE HAS A PRUSSIASWITZ FIC TOO. It is LOVE.
I'll be the Princess, You can be Target Practice
Chapter 2: Just Too Awesome
"State your business!"
"Be my awesome wife!"
...."WH-WH-WHAT?!"
It had to have been the most ridiculous thing that the Swiss had ever heard. And believe him when he says- he's heard a lot of strange things, considering who he had once dated… but never mind that- that memory is WAY too painful.
"I said," reiterated Prussia slowly, puffing out his chest and smiling arrogantly up at the beautiful princess, "be my wife!"
The irate blonde twitched, flushing ever-so-slightly and gripping the gun tighter. "As if!" He yelled back, glaring at the overly-cocky albino that had trespassed onto his property.
Why he hadn't just told the pest that he was a guy was beyond him.
"You are fit to be my wife! And seeing as you'd get married to the awesome me, what is there to refuse?"
A shot fired right past the smirking Prussia's face.
"Everything." Switzerland stated simply, blowing smoke off his gun and standing up straight. His cool composure was lost, however, when he saw that the pest's smile had gotten impossibly larger.
"I like 'em feisty!"
Switzerland's face turned an ill-fitting yet oddly attractive shade of red, he watched almost desperately as the prude walked tantalizingly slow in his direction. Easily flustered as he was, he did the only thing he knew how- he started firing shots at random at the very persistent intruder. The latter was walking straight toward the window where the increasingly distraught Swiss man stood, taking slow, sweeping strides to get there. The most fitting walk for a king if Prussia did say so himself. The Swiss, however, in his state of growing incredulity, thought he looked quite like a peacock.
A peacock with an incredibly annoying cocky smile.
"GET OFF MY LAWN, DAMMIT!" screamed the Swiss, face as red as a tomato in undeniable anger (or so he says -shot-). "DON'T COME ANY CLOSER! I'LL BLOW OFF YOUR HEAD!" Why.. no, how am I missing him? I NEVER miss! I'm like freaking JAMES BOND.
The fact that Switzerland thought of himself as a fictional British spy is a fact that will never be uttered aloud. Ever. Under penalty of death.
The albino loomed ever closer to his personal bubble.
His heart hammered heavily in his uniform-clad chest, and his palms were unexpectedly sweaty underneath his gloves. Oh wait, wait, WAIT.
Was he... God forbid... threatened by the albino's encroaching presence?
NO. Definitely not! He was James friggin' BOND! Threatened by no one, loved by all women!
It was then that the Swiss vaguely started wondering when he developed a psycho alter-ego named 'James Bond.' More accurately, he wondered why he had a sick obsession directed at James Bond.
Anyway, back to the problem at hand.
The blonde was usually spot-on target when he meant to shoot someone, so why on Earth was he not hitting the mark? He could shoot a target from a mile away! This guy was less than TEN YARDS from him. Maybe the blonde needed glasses?
No, no, no. He had always had perfect vision. And so the flurry of bullets continued. His screams of indignant rage only seemed to fuel the ever-present smirk on the bastard's face. Switzerland decided that the look was one of someone completely evil.
An evil that must be EXTERMINATED.
Uh oh, James Bond, now the Terminator? What's next, Chuck Norris?
Switzerland discerned that he was fighting a losing battle with sanity, so he decided to just go wherever his thoughts took him. Which was a very, very odd place. It was like someone had taken a Beatles' song and combined it with frustration-induced rage and an overdose of sixteen kinds of crazy. The result was not very pretty.
He hadn't even realized he stopped shooting until the albino cast a smirk in his direction, chin tilted high and eyes sparkling malevolently- making the blonde cast all thoughts of British spies, pools of lava, and Lucy in the sky with diamonds gratefully aside.
"Listen," the albino started in a would-be convincing tone, but it was ruined by the awfully conniving smirk on his face, "I'm awesome, you're pretty. I'm a king, you're a princess. It just fits. So how about you just jump down from that window and into the strong, muscular arms of your future lover. Need further convincing? Well, from the moment I laid eyes on you I knew that we-"
Switzerland, who was not only mentally preparing himself for a cheesy attempt at poetry but also re-loading his machine gun, paused in his ministrations to see what had made the strange man shut up. If it was a person, he'd thank them until the end of time, if it was an animal, he'd keep it as a pet and love it forever and ever, if it was a thing, he'd sleep with it in his bed at night. Anyone who got that idiot of an intruder to silence himself was a winner in his book.
However, his eyes landed not upon a person, animal, or thing. No, they landed wide-eyed on a falling Prussian- who somehow managed to make his awkward descent to the ground look graceful.
Switzerland watched in rapt silence as blood pooled around the now-quiet idiot, staining his perfectly green lawn.
So he had been shooting him. Huh.
…
…
"SHIT!" bellowed Switzerland, hopping the window sill and sprinting straight toward the fallen dumbass when he landed.
If this albino died on his property, what kind of paperwork would he be forced to deal with?!
They would take away his precious Zurich for sure!
That would not bode well for his British spy fantasies. Not well at all.
"SONUVAB-!"
"C'lm d'wn! We s'nt th' guards, h'll be f'ne."
"That's not it. I stubbed my toe!"
The Finnish boy caressed the inflicted region while the Swedish male went to get the first aid kit.
"'f ya h'd be'n watchin' wh're ya w're goin'...."
"I just have a bad feeling, alright? And I pace when I have a bad feeling. It's not my fault," and with that said, Tino pouted at the floor. And unbeknown to him, received a look of adoration from the older man in the room.
Berwald, otherwise known as Sweden, knelt before the younger male, taking the injured ankle gently in one hand and wrapping a fair amount of gauze around it. Finland blushed throughout the entire process.
Once Sweden was satisfied, the bandage looked like a growth on Tino's ankle more than a bandage. He wobbled slightly as he put weight on it, and pulled it back up.
"Uh… Su-san…"
Berwald grunted.
"Thanks but… I can't walk."
Wrong choice of words there, Finny.
Tino squeaked as he was swept- literally- off his feet, now being cradled like an overgrown baby in Berwald's massive arms.
"BERWA-"
"HELLOO MY FRIENDS! Iceland helped me outta that trash can! You can't get rid of me, better luck next time!"
Denmark entered Finland's room with a swoosh, bang, and a grin- and before either could question why the hell Iceland had helped him, he cheerfully said, "SO. When do I get to meet this adorable newcomer? Has he arrived yet?"
An eerie silence raked over the room at his words, as a look of dawning spread across Finland's face. Finland opened his mouth, prepared to say something, when-
"AAAAAAARRRRRGHHHH!"
"FUCK."
"HIEEEEEEE!"
"MMMPHH!"
The distant shouts echoed against the walls of the corridor- and a look of complete horror spread across the small boy's features, as he muttered, "Denmark…"
Almost missing his words, Denmark managed a, "huh?" of complete awe.
"…Did Iceland mention anything about the Princess Party coming back?"
Scratching the back of his head and looking to the side, suddenly feeling awkward, Denmark murmured a, "…Might've mentioned it…"
In a flourish, Finland's hat was off and beating against Sweden's chest violently.
"MUSH, GOSH DARNIT!"
And so Sweden sprinted at top speed from the room, cradling Finland like a lacrosse player would a lacrosse ball.
"Where do you think it came from?" asked the lacrosse ball earnestly, cupping his ears to catch any further sound.
"D-"
"Oh thank GODS. Finland!"
"Poland!" said Tino breathlessly, shocked at his cook's rather… odd appearance.
He was sporting a lopsided chef's hat, a red-stained apron that looked suspiciously like blood splatter, and most peculiar of all- was covered head to toe in bubbles.
"Ok! I was like, killing a pig for dinner, right? In the kitchen, right? Well, like, I normally don't do it in the kitchen. But like, I didn't feel like going into the butcher's room! It's all bloody and guh-ross in there! I mean, have you flipping smelled that place? It's totally-!"
"As much as I'd like to hear about your slaughtering escapades," said Finland- who was becoming a bit finicky in Sweden's arms, "could you please tell us what those screams were?"
"Well, like, the Princess Party came home at the same time that the new kid arrived-"
"Oh no."
"Oh yes. Maybe I should just, like, show you."
So the unlikely pair followed the valley girl blonde man down the hallway and toward the East Hall kitchen.
It was then that Finland heard a foreboding rumbling sound at the far end of the hallway- moving quickly toward them.
"GET OUTTA THE WAY. OUTTA THE WAY. MOVE! MOVE! MOVE!"
They had only gotten halfway down the passage, when hurdling toward came none other than the infamous Princess Party themselves- along with two others. All of them were underdressed, the unconscious boy slung over the tallest one's shoulder had no shirt on AND no pants, and the laughing one of the group was carrying a distraught Iceland in his arms. Every single one of them was soaked head to toe in soap bubbles.
But Poland, Sweden, and Finland barely saw the four who were barreling hopelessly towards them.
They were too focused on the giant wave of lavender-scented bubbly horror that licked the heels of the quartet.
"MUSH," screamed Finland- hitting Sweden with his hat.
"Mmm… lavender."
Switzerland breathed in the smell of the candles in content, relaxing and closing his eyes. He had tended to the damn albino nearly all night and morning- to no avail, it seemed. He still refused to open his eyes. This, for some reason, worried Vash.
No, no, no. Not worry. It was a simple tug of the heartstrings… Like seeing him hurt like this made him hurt, t-
He promptly stuffed his head under the water.
After Vash had come quite close to drowning himself, he relaxed against the tub once more- relishing the lavender candles that surrounded the pale bath- the steam that clogged his senses was like bliss, and the warm water caressing him like a blanket was welcoming him to sleep…
"I SENSE DANGER."
The door to the bathroom was kicked open.
Switzerland jumped about twenty feet in the air, landing with a splash in the bubbles of his bath.
He came up from the water, indignantly spewing bubbles and flushing a furious red.
"WHAT IN THE BLOODY HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING IN MY BATHROOM?!" screamed Switzerland, gun materializing out of nowhere and pointing straight at the King.
"Oh, sorry~"
He certainly didn't look sorry.
And he really wasn't.
Prussia had just walked into one of the most sexiest scenes he had ever had the privilege of witnessing, aside from looking at himself in the mirror, that is.. A blushing virgin, a candlelit bubble bath, a NAKED virgin. Oh, the possibilities!
"Get out!" came the stern voice of the adorable blonde from the tub, jabbing a pale arm at the door behind Prussia.
"I can't!"
"Why not?"
"I'm bleeding again?"
And he lifted his shirt, cheerily smiling, to reveal blood pouring profusely from re-opened wounds.
"YOU'RE AN ABSOLUTE IMBECILE. GET BACK TO BED. NOW. I'll get the first aid kit, you just lie down and work on stopping the bleeding! GOT THAT?"
The frantic blonde stood from her bath and oh my cow-milking farmer what is THAT between her… his.. IDUNNO!
Oh me, oh my.
Looks like he had found the reason why he liked none of the other princesses.
Well, besides the fact that he was too awesome for them.
He resolved (and the cute scowl sent his way from a blonde wrapping a towel around his waist only strengthened this resolve) to take a chance with this wild human being- who was, admittedly, unlike any other person he'd ever met.
Gun-crazed, easily embarrassed, short temper, tries to act stern, stubborn, and downright adorable to boot. Oh, don't forget batshit insane. Despite all this- soft and caring. What a sad, strange little man.
This was his type? Really? What, was he the Buzz Lightyear to this blonde's Woody?
He only just managed to stifle a snort of pure perversion.
Add that to the list of reasons why he hadn't chosen any of the previous princesses to marry, none of them filled the necessary profile.
As the small hands pressed into his back, urging him to return to his sick bed- King Prussia smiled, not smirked, actually smiled.
Yes, this blonde would be his and his alone.
Homosexual kings? Who cares! He would break free of the stereotypical barriers as he had so often done before!
He would woo this prince into utter submission, the blonde would become putty in his hands- surely!
A plan hatched in the very back of Prussia's devious mind- rusty cogs working ceaselessly as the grin turned Cheshire. Only an awesome person of his caliber could execute a plan of such epic proportions. But he'd be damned if he didn't go through with it.
Too awesome to give up the challenge that took the form of a chibi blonde boy.
Too awesome to deny himself the chance at the best scheme he's ever cooked up.
Too awesome to not win over the blonde with his devilishly good looks.
All in all...
Gilbert Beilschmidt was just too awesome.
ALOON:
AHHH! Tallisa of Swallow's Crest! You talked about me in your absolutely AMAZING SwitzPrussia fic! Don't point toward me, you're TONS better than me! TONSSS!
So –points back in Tallisa's direction- GO READ HER STUFF NOW.
ANYWAY. Anyone have a theory on how that bubble incident happened? Huh? Huhhh?
Still haven't revealed the identity of the Princess Party, though I think this chapter made it blatantly obvious.
Ah, well. We're getting to more pairings! Soon! Maybe! Yeah! Ehe… ehehehe….
/shot
This was supposed to be humorous. I probably failed miserably.
And you know how I said I had a lot of ideas?
Well I threw them all out the window, and so emerged this!
Right. Don't expect another update soon. I LOVE YOU ALL, BUT SCHOOL HATES ME.
Thanks for reading~
Questions for my Amusement and Possibly Yours:
Who did Vash once date?
What the Hell happened at Prussia's palace?
Who is in the Princess Party?
And finally: What the FRIGGIN' IHOP PANCAKES is up with Switzerland's obsession with James Bond? I have no idea.
(The Prussia and Switz part at the end was purely for my own amusement. Ignore it, if you must.)