https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PyfinUZk8Ps
So, anyway, I got bored a few weeks ago and my little brother has some sparkly markers. This is the result, if you can see it:
Yeah.... BlogSpot hates me... But it's a super sexy muscly Germany with a slightly less muscly Prussia. Both are probably drunk and both are very sparkly. Also, they are dressed in their German Sparkly Party attire which consists of rubber boots (Prussia's come with sparkles), party pants (strikingly similar to their uniform pants...), and skin-tight, black, sparkly spandex tank tops. Yep. I don't know how I think of these things... Gomenasai...
Also, I have a German Sparkle Party installment of the story for you which I have had written for almost a month but have had to put on hold in lieu of plot building. Pesky plot building... Anyway, I'm exhausted and I still don't feel well, so I'm gonna post this and then probably just curl up in a ball to die for a little while. Catch you reader-sans later! If I don' die, that is!
- Turtle-chan
It seemed like a normal morning,
but it ended up being anything but. You woke
up and got dressed as usual before going downstairs to help with
breakfast. Germany, as usual, was the
first awake and was already hard at work.
Italy was also awake because Germany had kicked him out of his bed. The two were arguing from different rooms and
making quite a racket. You, as usual,
played the role of the amused peacemaker.
Japan came down and helped set the table and everyone sat down to breakfast. Everything was completely normal. Until you heard the window open.
Immediately, Japan whipped out a
katana from heaven knows where, Germany pulled a Luger from the waistband of
his pants, Italy pulled out a white flag, and you jumped into a defensive
crouch, holding your fists up in front of your face like a boxer. Something large and white swung itself
through the window and the two weapons were pointed at it immediately while
Italy started waving the flag furiously.
“It’s zee awesome me! Kesesesesese!” the intruder shouted. A suspicious look crossed Germany’s face.
“Prussia… Vhy are you here? Unt more importantly, GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!”
Germany said, shouting at the intruder in the end. It seems like they know each other.
“Vest! It’s goot to see you too,” the intruder said
sarcastically. You took a good look at him
and realized that there are actually some similarities between him and
Germany. They both have that broad,
brawny build, although Germany is significantly brawnier. Their hair is also sort of similar. Or rather, it would be if Germany wore his
down all the time. Their accents are
also similar, though the intruder manages to make it sound crude somehow.
“What should we do,
Germany-san?” Japan asked him, not taking his eyes off of the intruder.
“Nosink, Japan,” Germany sighed,
replacing his pistol. “Zis is my older Bruder, Prussia.”
You took another look at the
man, your eyes wide with shock. This
crude, loud, albino miscreant is actually related to Germany? They’re like polar opposites! Japan sheathed his katana and Italy put his
flag away. It took you a moment to lower
your hands, and you still felt tense afterward.
You glanced over at Germany who looked embarrassed and displeased.
“Would you like something to
eat?” you asked Prussia, deciding to be hospitable since no one else was going
to.
He turned and looked at you,
peering down his nose haughtily. “Zee
awesome me does not neet to eat for nourishment. Alzhough, I vouldn’t mint havink a taste of
you, Fraulien,” he said suggestively.
You cheeks heated up and you
forced yourself not to glare at him.
“I’m sorry, but I’m not on the menu,” you told him with your sweetest
smile. Germany was glaring daggers at
his brother and Prussia was staring you down.
“You’re too borink for zee
awesome me,” he scoffed, turning to look at Germany. “Anyvay, I kame here to tell you zat I am
hafink a party tonight unt you haf to kome.”
“Nein,” Germany spat, almost before Prussia finished his sentence.
“Too bat, little Bruder.
I tolt you zat you haf no choice,” Prussia said smirking. “Remember zee rules?”
“Vhat ru-? Oh…
Zose rules,” Germany said, looking concerned.
“Ja, zose rules,” Prusia said, throwing his head back and braying
his strange laugh. What’s going on?
“Vhat do I haf to do?” Germany
asked in a tight voice.
“Zee usual…” Prussia said
vaguely, waving a hand in the air. You
noticed for the first time that there was a small, yellow bird perched on top
of his head. Weird.
“I vill get zee sings,” Germany
sighed.
“Make sure you remember zee
outfit. Rubber boots unt party pants,”
Prussia told him, smirking evilly.
“Ja…” Germany said resignedly.
“Goot. Vell, I vill see you all tonight at my
awesome house. Kesesesesesese!” Prussia
laughed as he climbed back out the window.
You turned to look at Germany
who was massaging his temples in frustration.
You decided to leave him be and wait until you can get him alone to talk
to him. You started to gather up plates
and you carried them to the sink. Japan
and Italy, who seemed to have understood the conversation, walked off to their
rooms. It was just you and Germany alone
in the kitchen and you were dying to find out what was going on.
Germany sighed and sat down at
the table. You looked over at him and
came to sit across from him, cupping your cheek in your palm. “What’s wrong?” you asked him.
He looked up at you with tired
blue eyes. “I am fine. I apologize about my Bruder,” he said.
“It’s alright,” you told
him. “You don’t choose your family.”
He looked at you and you thought
you saw a ghost of a smile twitching at the corner of his mouth, but it was
gone almost as soon as you noticed. “You
are right,” he said. “He shoult not haf
spoken to you zat vay, zough.”
“It’s fine. Really.
I’m used to it,” you said without thinking. When he cocks an eyebrow at you in confusion,
you clarify. “It’s common for girls to
be spoken to that way where I come from.
I guess people think it’s manly.
I’m not really sure. Either way,
I know how to deal with it.”
Germany shook his head. “Schweinen,”
he muttered. You somehow got the feeling
that he said something very impolite.
“Um, anyway. What was that conversation with your brother
all about? It was kind of weird and I
feel like I’m the only one that doesn’t understand what’s going on,” you said a
little nervously.
“Oh, zat. Um, it is a little embarrasink, aktually,” he
said, rubbing the back of his neck. “So,
basikally, vhen I vas younger, Prussia voult not let me be my own kountry unless
I agreet to his terms unt one of zem vas
zat ve haf to haf parties once each year and I am not allowet to bak out…”
“What kind of parties?” you
asked him slowly.
Germany’s face turned beet
red. “German Sparkle Parties,” he
replied quietly, avoiding your gaze.
Your face turned white and then
red and you clapped a hand over your mouth.
This is actually a thing? You’d
read so many fanfictions and you’d heard the German Sparkle Party song, but you
didn’t believe it was actually a thing.
You just thought it was some crazy headcannon. It was so hard not to laugh.
“Vhat? Vhat is wrong?” Germany asked you
defensively.
You shook your head, smirking as
you got up to finish the dishes.
“Nothing, Germany. Don’t worry
about it,” you told him.
And so here you are. You stand a little awkwardly in the corner,
sparkles covering every inch of your body as though you had been the victim of
a crowd of seasick faeries. The music is
pounding in your ears and you can feel the vibrations deep in your chest. You can’t help but smile as you watch Germany
dancing with his obnoxious older brother.
You know he’s had entirely too much to drink, but you can’t help but
feel like it’s good for him to let loose a little bit every once in a
while. He’ll probably be hung-over in
the morning and not remember any of it, but at least he gets to enjoy himself
for a few hours. And, of course, the
outfit he and Prussia are wearing is laughable in itself.
Germany worked furiously all day
to get everything done for both the party and his duties, so you didn’t see
much of him. When he finally did emerge
from his office, he went straight up to his room and you heard a lot of banging
around and cursing in German. You were a
little concerned, but you decided to just wait it out. After about half an hour, he came down the
stairs and that was when you almost died.
There he was, big, manly Germany, wearing his usual green army pants
with rubber boots cut to look like
combat boots and a sparkly black spandex
tank top. You couldn’t contain your
laughter and you ended up doubled over, clinging to a chair to keep yourself
from falling on the ground from the convulsions of your laughter. Germany was extremely embarrassed and his
face was completely red. It took you
several minutes to recover your composure.
Mmm. That spandex doesn’t
leave anything to the imagination, does it?
Germany
looks up and notices you watching him and he makes his way over to you, still
dancing. When he gets close, he shouts
out,” Vhy are not you dancink? It is
fun!”
You smile up at him, noticing
how flushed his cheeks are. “It’s fun to
watch, too,” you respond. “Besides, I
don’t really know how to dance.”
Hopefully he’s too drunk to remember the time he caught you dancing in
the kitchen.
“I koult show you,” he suggests,
stumbling over his feet a little.
“No, it’s alright. You go and have fun,” you tell him.
He looks at you for several
moments and you wonder if he heard you.
As you open your mouth to speak, he steps closer to you and touches your
hair. You feel a gentle pulling and then
your hair falls down from is situation at the top of your head and brushes your
face and shoulders, sending glitter spiraling down to the floor. You look up at Germany quizzically and he
smiles and nods approvingly, slipping the rubber band around his large wrist.
“Zat is better, ja?
You shoult leaf it zat vay,” he tells you. You blush and nod, hoping no one notices. “Kome unt dance!” Germany takes your hand and pulls you onto
the dance floor without giving you a chance to reply.
He begins to dance and you stand
there uncomfortably, not knowing what to do.
Germany watches you for a few moments and says, “Vat is wrong?”
“I don’t know how to dance,” you
reply, having to shout over the music.
“So? Just mofe vis zee music. It is easy,” he tells you.
You aren’t so sure about that,
but then the music changes and the crowd starts to swoop inward, forming a big
huddle in the center of the dance floor.
Everyone is bouncing up and down on the balls of their feet and smiling
around at each other. Apparently, this
is something they have done before. The
music gets louder and louder until finally the singer begins. He sings in German, but you catch a few words
that you understand. “Was ist los? Es ist Party angesagt!” the crowd shouts along with the singer. They start jumping up and down together and
pumping their fists in the air. You’re
caught up in the motion and you have no choice but to join in unless you want
to be crushed.
“Wir lassen uns nicht verarschen,
wir tanzen und wir toben. Hebt die Hände
nach oben, und dann lasst uns Disco Pogen!!” the crowd
shouts, jumping and pounding their fists in the air. Sparkles are all over the place and the
lights and movements are disorienting.
You’re being jostled around and you don’t want to think about what will
happen should you fall.
But
then you look over at Germany and you see him smiling and all of the
apprehension dies away. He’s sweating
and his face is red as he jumps and shouts along with the crowd,”DISCO POGO, Dingelingeling, Dingelingeling. UND ALLE ATZEN SING’. DISCO POGO, Dingelingeling, Dingelingeling. UND ALLE ATZEN SING'.”
You smile as you watch him. You may not be enjoying the party, but you’re
glad that he is. He looks over at you
and smiles down at you. “Vhat?” he asks
you, shouting over the music.
“Nothing,” you tell him, shaking
your head. It’s crazy how different he’s
acting, almost like he’s a completely different person. You wonder once again how much alcohol his
brother had him drink, but you kind of don’t want to know.
Finally, the song ends and
you’re allowed to back out of the crowd.
You’re hot and sweaty and you’re relieved when you can breathe again and
not be pressed up against other people.
You’re just starting to feel alive again when you hear the music
change. The beat is significantly slower
and people seem to be pairing up to dance together. You feel a tap on your shoulder and turn
around to see Germany holding one of his large hands out to you.
“Voult you dance vis me?” he
asks you.
You shyly take his hand and let
him lead you onto the dance floor. He
slips his hands around your waist and you reach up and rest yours on his strong
shoulders. You look down at the floor,
too embarrassed to watch Germany. It’s
not that you aren’t enjoying it, but you would rather be with him like this
when he’s sober. It’s harder for you to
know if he’s being sincere or not when he’s this drunk.
“(y/n),” he says. You look up at him and cock an eyebrow
questioningly. “I haf somesink to tell
you.”
“What is it?” you ask him. Your heart is pounding.
“Vell, it is just zat…” he
starts to say, but a loud voice interrupts him.
“VEST! Kesesesesese!” Prussia shouts, grabbing
Germany by the shoulder and pulling him away from you.
“Vhat are you doink?” Germany
asks Prussia angrily.
“Safink your ass, zat’s vhat,”
Prussia tells him triumphantly.
“I vas in ze middle of a
confersation, Bruder,” Germany says,
glaring down at his older brother.
“Ja, and now you’re goink vis zee awesome me. Kesesesesesese!” Prussia tells him, his red
eyes shining with cruel enjoyment as he starts to drag Germany away. “You’re velcome, (y/n)!” He throws you a wink and you shudder a
little. Even though he’s Germany’s
brother, Prussia creeps you out. Also,
you think it’s weird that the little bird, which is now on his shoulder, is
wearing sparkly sunglasses…
You feel a little
frustrated. You were curious about what
Germany had to say, but you realize it’s probably better that Prussia dragged
him off. You let out a sigh and look around
the room at the dwindling party. Italy
is passed out on a sofa and Japan is having a conversation with Hungary, so you
decide to wait until he finishes before leaving. You sit down on the couch beside Italy and
lean your head against the back of it.
You’re exhausted and you have a headache from all of the loud music. Somehow, you manage to doze off.
When you wake up, you feel
something on your shoulder, on your lap, and against your feet. Your eyelids flutter open and you look around
with bleary eyes. There are people
passed out all around the room. You
smile a little to see Austria and Hungary sleeping leaning against each
other. You wish they’d just get together
already. You blink a few times and look
over to see Italy asleep against your shoulder, smiling. Japan is sleeping on the floor near you
peacefully. You look down and the first
thing you notice is the blonde hair. Germany.
It’s a little hard to make out
each of his features in the semidarkness, but you have his face well memorized
by now. You tenderly run your fingers
through his hair, marveling at how soft it is despite all of the gel he must
put in it. He’s still covered in
sparkles from the party, which you find amusing. You lean forward and brush your lips against
his cheek, your hair, which is still hanging loose, curtains both of your faces
and mingles with his soft blonde hair.
“Sleep well, my dearest friend,”
you whisper as you drift back off into sleep.
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