Index • Sofija, the Beautiful (Nyo! RusLiet) • Little Sun (Zora) • After the Coffee (Norway) • Fairytale (Norway) • I’m Italian (Italy) • Ode to Time (Norway) • Stollen Ribbon (NedPort) • Broken Heart (Russia) • Sunflower Fate (Russia)
To Mel Although this gift is VERY late (ops!), I hope you had a happy birthday and that the remaining days to this date have been harmonious! Mel, I love you. You are a loyal friend and always willing to help. Although we don’t talk every day, I know I can count on you – after all, a true friendship is not talking every day, but rather always ready to give a friend shoulder. I love talking to you; it is reassuring and always interesting. I laugh, scream, thrill! You are insightful, talented, kind, honest and incredible. I’m amazed with your ideas, always so well elaborated and complex - honestly? Goals! I have to be short on this message, that there is no longer room for all my praise about you! Finally, thank you very much for being my friend, Mel! <3
Nyo!Russia x Nyo!Lithuania by FlyingSassySaddles
Sofija, the Beautiful "If you try to leave, the winter will freeze you." Sofija looked out the window, watching the snow fall hard. It wasn't in her plans to leave that storm. She turned to Anya; she wasn't like the rumors said. She was young, beautiful, and had a somewhat innocent smile (but suspicious...). She seemed to be nice, but Sofija had to be careful: Anya was a witch after all. But for now, that place was good for the green-eyed brunette. She didn't want to be in her house with her stepmother and her half sisters. She didn't even want to think about them. They forced her to work without rest; they hated her for a reason she didn't understand... But she had a secret, very well kept in the cloth sack she had. An old doll, a little broken; it had been the mother who had given her at her deathbed and explained that if she fed it, she would help her. It was comforting to know she had someone to tell â&#x20AC;&#x201C; even if it was just an enchanted doll. Anya sat down at the table and smiled at the other. It was a silent request â&#x20AC;&#x201C; an order â&#x20AC;&#x201C; for her to sit too. Sofija did so. The witch was clearly happy; she always wanted friends, but for some reason, no one approached her house other than her brothers. It was sad, almost unfair. A betrayal of fate. She felt a lot of anger and frustration, but at that moment she felt a colossal happiness. She had a friend and nobody could do anything against it.
Zora Draganova Boyadjieva by ask-aph-hummus
Little Sun Her smile was like a small sun; it warmed the hearts of the people around her. Everything about her made him remember a sun, to be honest.
Zora was a walking sun that made everyone happy. She was radiant, sweet and cheerful. It was a pleasure to be with her.
She moved the sticks accurately and the sound made by the drumming dictated the rhythm of the band. Gracious, Zora smiled as she played. She was happy â&#x20AC;&#x201C; she was free of any obligation, but to amuse those who saw her and herself. That enchanted him; it made him smile too, proud of her.
Zora was his little sun.
Norway by aph-sweetheart
After the Coffee It was another ordinary day for Lukas – or at least that was what he thought; he had woken up early, as usual, and drank his coffee in peace – that no one would irritate him before he drank his precious coffee! – while reading the newspaper. From the corner of his eye he noticed glistening glints. It was the fairies flying through the kitchen, not caring about Lukas's presence, but exchanging secrets between giggles and murmurs. The Norwegian fixed his attention on them, curious with such a buzz. They noticed and smiled at him, promptly exiting the kitchen.
Lukas watched them with a smile.
He knew it was a surprise. He remained seated and went back to the newspaper, that surprise would come to him – or they would come and call him!
Norway by cuckoo-clover
Fairytale The wooden floor creaked with every stride that Lukas gave in that darkness – if anyone saw him and questioned what he was doing in the middle of the night in that abandoned building, the blond wouldn't know how to respond. That building had once been a great theater, famous for its grandiose performances. When he was little, Lukas came to see the plays, the musicals, the orchestras, everything – his father had worked there as a manager, so he had a privilege. And the key. Since the end of the theater, Lukas had come here. He couldn’t abandon it. He brought his violin with him. He took a deep breath and began to play in the middle of the darkness. But slowly, several lights began to rise, floating as if they were dancing; white creatures, bright and peculiar, round with little ears. He never knew the names of such creatures, but they were always there. As a child, Lukas never understood how nobody saw them, but over time, he discovered. He was special. Just like those creatures.
Italy by tomatoboxbee
I’m Italian Feliciano sat at the table; there was only an extra strong coffee and pieces of bread. He drank the drink, looking at the image of Mary, Mother of God, on the wall of his kitchen. He stared into her sad, melancholy eyes. He didn’t want to leave the house; no matter where they went, there were posters on the walls, exalting how everything in the United States was possible and better – Lovino tried his luck, emigrating to the land of opportunity. Feliciano was left behind, trapped in the land of the half-truths in which he had been born and in which he would die – if he was ever to die in that country's Fado. He swallowed the cry; he just wanted peace and had no worries. If possible, play his guitar and sing softly while flirting with the girls you see. He didn’t want anything else... "Good morning, God, you know I'm here.”
Norway by tomatoboxbee
Ode to Time Sometimes, life can betray you when you least expect it. The smallest thing can take someone down, to stab their back and break their heart in a thousand pieces. Lukas knew so very well – he had felt the pain of treachery and heartbreak on his skin.
His life had never been the epitome of normal, in fact, it was odd simply due to its immortality, and so he had shed more tears than a mere mortal; however, many of those tears didn’t get to form, dying before they fell from Lukas’ blueish eyes.
His fate was tragic – his future, uncertain, full of doubt and disagreement with himself.
But he’d stand, completely broken if necessary, and he’d cherish all the meager moments at his disposal.
Because Lukas knew just how precious time was and he wouldn’t let any opportunity to be happy to escape from his hands.
Netherlands x Portugal by aluqueta
Stollen Ribbon That day, Afonso lacked his ribbon – someone had taken it when he was trapped in his own thoughts (meaning, he was taking a nap) during the meeting. He was angry, of course. Just that day, he hadn’t brought another ribbon! “It’s rather odd to see you without your ribbon.” commented Tim as he approached Afonso; he stared at the door of the meeting room, staring to see if he could catch any of his suspects. “And so angry.” “Someone took my ribbon, would you believe it? “Of course, I saw Antonio and Francis do it” “I knew it was them!” At last Afonso looked at Tim, exalted by the information he just received. He noticed he carried a red tulip. “Why do you have that tulip?” “Can’t I buy a tulip for my boyfriend when I know he’s angry?” Afonso blushed, embarrassed by the Dutch’s words, but smiled. “You’re an idiot.” “In love with you.” he added. Delicately, the blond put the flower behind Afonso’s ear. He even allowed himself to grant him with a small, timid, smile. But this didn’t stop Afonso from lecturing Antonio and Francis like there was no tomorrow.
Russia by tomatoboxbee
Broken Heart As much as one tried, no one could decipher Ivan’s smile. That smile, that at first seemed as innocent as the one of a naive and silly child, had something of a malicious touch, that nor Ivan nor anyone else could understand.
Behind that smile was a broken heart, beaten and bruised for years, centuries even.
Ivan had been born in a rather cold place; he should’ve imagined he was fated to the cold even in the future, or at least suspected it.
Nothing that vodka couldn’t help with in the coldest times. He could’ve been considered an alcoholic for just how much he drank to try and heal – unnificiently! – the wounds in his heart.
However, he didn’t care. He raised his glass and, with his icy smile, toasted to his own uncertain future.
RĂşssia por tokishigepasta
Sunflower Fate No one really knew Ivan. No one knew of the scars that stained his heart, so mistreated. But Ivan ignored his wounds (with one or two glasses of vodka, perhaps more). He simply didn’t think of them; he didn’t wish to do so. He had better things to do. He walked amongst the sunflowers and smiled a genuine smile – such happiness that a mere flower could give him! Tall, yellow, constantly chasing the sun like one chases a dream. It isn’t by mere coincidence that it symbolizes happiness and adoration – but also, instability. Ivan was unstable, he had to admit. But he’d ignore it for now and, like a sunflower, he’d follow what fate had in store for him.
A big thank you to the fanarts’ creators! • https://flyingsassysaddles.tumblr. com/ • https://ask-aph-hummus.tumblr.c om/ • https://aph-sweetheart.tumblr.com / • http://cuckoo-clover.tumblr.com/ • http://tomatoboxbee.tumblr.com/ • http://aluqueta.tumblr.com/ • https://tokishigepasta.tumblr.com/