France, as a gift to all of the men in his family, gave each and every one of them a rapier. These rapiers were special in that they were from his own personal collection and had been with him for centuries. He loved them like they were his flesh and blood, however he felt that they would make a meaningful gift to the ones he cared about. He knew he could trust them with the swords and he was happy to give them to his sons and husband.
30 DAY LETTERS CHALLENGE [MOBIVERSE STYLE]
Day Twenty Four: To the Person Who Gave Cuccagna His Favorite Memory
Thank you.
I’ve been thinking lately, about whether I have regrets about what happened or whether anything really makes me sad. It does; I’m sad that I never got to see myself grow big and strong. I’m sad that I never got to publically be with Nordemann the same way that Italy is with Germany. I’m sad about a lot of things, but I realized that that isn’t the right way to live.
I see what it does to Germany. I see how every thought, every breath, every step he takes is burdened by regret of the wars he created. I see the way he looks at me — at Italy — and the grief that flashes in his eyes as he glances away, as if unworthy of our presence. I don’t want that. I don’t want to think like that. It isn’t the way a person should live.
Instead, I’m grateful. To you; to all of you, because you each watched over me in your own ways. I have so many wonderful memories to be thankful for because of all of you. I can be happy and at peace because you took care of me.
(Oh! That’s another thing I’m sorry for. Being such a burden.)
Mostly though? I’m happy because you all found happiness. Before you died, before… Before all that happened, you were able to find trust in each other, fall in love, do those things that we were never meant to do as Nations. We were never allowed to show it, but I saw.
I saw you, Atlantis, and you Avalon; the way you two would look at each other during the meetings. The way Atlantis’ hand would creep under the table — it would take a few minutes, because he thought no one would notice — and hold your hand until he was required to stand and let go. How you, Avalon, would stand and defend Atlantis to the best of your ability, using your words and your wit to throw us all off. You tried to make us see that you did not love him. You failed. I’m happy for that.
And Nordemann, you…! What an amazing change. What a spectacular thing love did to you. The way your eyes lit up like stars in my presence. The way you held me when protecting me from harm. The way you looked when we made love…
Forgive me, Italia; I know this is uncomfortable for you.
That’s okay, you should be happy too.
Moving on.
Ker-Ys, thank you for watching over me. Thank you especially for your patience and your love and your guidance. I know… I know it wasn’t easy for you and-and I saw what happened to… That is… I…
Don’t be sad. It’s okay now. Keep going.
…
Keep writing.
…
He loved you Ys. I didn’t know that you two… But he loved you. I could see it in the way that he buried you and the way that his eyes stayed so far away. I could hear him crying himself to sleep and talking to you and… Oh. It was beautiful, my brother. I wish you could have lived to see it.
(So Mengyao, thank you for loving my big brother. It’s one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen. Ever. Although I am sorry that you had to suffer the pain of losing your loved one. I suppose you and I both have something in common after all.)
All of you are the reason that I can be at peace. I know that it seems as though we will never be with each other again, but… Love goes on. If there is anything I remember from Ys’ teachings, it is that love never dies. It never fades. It never goes away, and it will always find a way back to you. Take your memories and be grateful; don’t waste your afterlife on what he did, or what he said, or what you could have done to stop him.
There was nothing we could have done, I think.
Just be happy. As one of England’s poets said, “‘Tis better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all.”
(I like England’s poets. They usually make sense, and the words are pretty.)
Please be happy.
Please.
For me.
——-
“And where do you think you’re going?”
“To the store!” Feliciano said brightly, turning back around and waving his letter.
“It’s dinnertime, idiota! What could possibly be so important — “
“I need to pick up a book of poetry.” said Italy, blinking in confusion as Romano stepped toward him. ”I just want to make sure I get there before the store closes.”
“You have lots of books on poetry!”
“Not English poetry.”
His brother stared, slackjawed, before marching up to him and waving a finger.
“You don’t even like English poetry! What is all this nonsense? What’s this really about, fratello? If you’re going to go see that potato-eating bastard right before we have dinner — “
“R-Really!” The younger squealed, making a grab for the piece of paper as Romano lifted it out of his hands. ”I know I don’t like English p-poetry but I thought I might give it a… Shot… Romano, are you okay?”
“…What is this?” Romano stared dead-eyed at the letter in his hands, his tanned skin going quickly yellow. Feliciano watched his hands shake.
“I-It’s just a… I don’t know…”
“I’m serious, Feliciano. What… What is this? Are you feeling okay? You’re not, like, feeling crazy or something? You want to go to church? Let’s skip dinner. Let’s go to church.”
“You hate church.” Now the brothers were staring at each other in equal parts confusion and equal parts apprehension, Feliciano’s hand falling back to his side as he allowed his brother to scan the words once more. ”It’s okay Lovino. I’ll just go tomorrow, i-if that’s what you’re so upset about. I’ll stay for dinner.”
But Romano was halfway up the stairs to his room, leaving the other Italian in his dust to stare up into the now empty hallway.
He paced his room, eyes flicking back and forth as the thoughts whirled about in his head. He hadn’t given too much thought to these; Spain was a happy-go-lucky kind of guy and he was old as hell; of course he’d have some skeletons in his closet that he needed to let out. Of course he’d want to kill some people. B-But…
Romano let the letter fall under his desk lamp, next to a few scattered pieces of torn paper that he hadn’t had the time to put back together. One letter (A sickening, revolting, absolutely un-Spagna-like letter) lay completely taped together at the far corner of his desk. Once he’d read it, he hadn’t been able to stay with Spain for a while. And… That was for the best. Maybe if he stayed away from Spagna he’d be less stressed and he wouldn’t write those creepy murder letters anymore.
But this… Feliciano’s letter was very different. Very happy. Less emo. Romano chewed his lip, drumming his fingers against the mahogany as he stared at the three separate missives in fascination and fright.
What was happening to his loved ones?
——-
Written for “The Mobius Chronicles: Death”
http://www.fanfiction.net/s/8044242/1/The_Mobius_Chronicles_Death
Like every couple, France and China had a [Very Special] first kiss.
Unlike the rest of them, they also had another.
Their first kiss was upon the Great Wall, on a tower where no one could see. China had taken him there on a date and had taken him to the tower on a whim, to watch the sunset as France was wont to do.
It was not awkward.
It was not swift.
And it was not (According to China’s journal) unusual in the very least, which in itself should be unusual.
They fell into it naturally, each taking a step toward the other from opposite ends of the tower and reaching for their partner. For them, it was a stepping stone; a mark of trust and open affection. It was something to treasure, for it marked the very first time that they were in sync with each other.
So they decided to keep it private.
No one knows about the kiss on the Great Wall, not even France and China’s children. To everyone asked, their first kiss was at the ‘04 Fall Conference, where (To prove that they were together), France and China walked through the door hand-in-hand and, when asked, turned to each other and kissed once again.
That was their first public kiss and the only one anyone had any reference to when asked about the subject. Mostly, people were shocked that China would allow such a display for something so important, but (Even when Canada uses it as a point of contention, such as in: “Follow your heart, don’t do anything you wouldn’t want to do.” “Really? Says the man who kissed my Dad in front of the entire world!”), China just smiles to himself and looks away. Neither of them feel the need to share the moment with anyone but each other, and neither of them ever will.
China’s boss isn’t the only dragon that China sees on a daily basis. In fact, his over-expansive garden hosts a myriad of them. They like to hide in the plants and pop out at people who are visiting their home and will sometimes befriend the regulars who wander through, though they mostly come out at night.
As a present for Christmas one year, each of his family members received a dragon egg. They were (Understandably) confused and a little disoriented by the strange gift, but China simply waved them off and told them to keep the eggs under a heat lamp for two weeks each.
THE DRAGONS
France: Amorette, Meaning “Little Love”
- Amorette is frankly spoiled as hell, and enjoys being France and China’s shared hair accessory. Because of this, she has a bias for people with long hair, and will be hesitant to get close to someone whose hair is short. She outright despises England, which amuses France to no end.
Korea: Phlox (플록스), Meaning “Harmony/A Good Partnership” in the language of flowers
Hong Kong: Yùzhào (預兆), Meaning “Harbinger”
Taiwan: Zǐ Hóngsè (紫紅色), Meaning “Forever/Eternal”
- Taiwan and Seychelles decided to make their dragons “Twins”, so they picked Amaranthine in English, meaning “Forever”, to symbolize their bond and translated the word into Mandarin and French respectively.
Canada: Mugung, Meaning “Eternity” in Korean (The alternate name of the Hibiscus, Korea’s national flower)
Monaco: Astarot, Meaning “The Chief”
- Astarot is named after the Prince of Hell, which scares the other girls in the family shitless. China, being China, is eternally amused with the name. Monaco and Hong Kong enjoy letting their dragons plot or play pranks on the others in the family, living up to their reputations as the little hellions that they are.
Seychelles: Amarante, Meaning “Forever/Eternal”
- Taiwan and Seychelles decided to make their dragons “Twins”, so they picked Amaranthine in English, meaning “Forever”, to symbolize their bond and translated the word into Mandarin and French respectively.
After a while Romano began to catch Amorette every now and then, whenever France and China would visit Spain’s house. Amorette (Being Amorette), was hesitant with him at first because of his short hair, but soon quickly learned to love his curl and now plays with him freely. The first time she jumped onto his head to play with it he smiled so widely it made his jaw hurt. Spain caught him in the act (Though Romano would forever deny doing it), and let slip to China that Romano loved to take care of France’s dragon. China responded in kind with bringing Romano an egg.
Romano: Vittore, Meaning “Conqueror”
Spain didn’t get an egg until a while later, being as China didn’t fully trust him to handle one yet. But, after seeing him handle Vittore and saving him from being trampled (By a drunk Prussia, no less), China finally decided that he would allow the Spaniard to have one.
Spain: Doroteo, Meaning “Gift of God”
Upon their hatching, France, Seychelles and Taiwan immediately fell in love with their new pets and began taking care of them (In Seychelles’ case, she threw her fish back into the water and began carrying around her new dragon friend instead). China enjoys the fact that his family takes care to watch over the things that he gives them, though mostly he’s glad that there is something there to protect them when he isn’t around to do it himself. Every now and then China will host a picnic in his garden for the entire family, mostly to encourage the dragons to be sociable with each other. They seem to have formed a little family of their own, though they have been trained not to reveal themselves to people outside of France and China’s family (With the exception of Amorette, who loves to antagonize England).
The Bad Touch Trio:
France: Country of Love
Spain: Country of Passion
Prussia: Country of Awesome
The BAMF Trio (Also Known As The Underground Trio):
China: The Triads
Romano: The Italian Mafia
America: The American Mafia
——-
Why America and not Japan (The Yakuza)? Because I see more of a parallel between Prussia and America than I do between Prussia and Japan. Prussia and America are both loud, proud, and are kind of out there when it comes to the things that the other two in their trio associate them with (Love and Passion v. Awesome and two old, organized crime syndicates vs. an organization originally brought on by the original mafia.)
I’m well aware that there are many, many groups serving under the names “Mafia” and “Triad”. There isn’t just one huge-ass group.\
I’m also well aware that the BTT formed due to historical circumstances and that the organized crime rings, well, don’t exactly have a good history together. Lmfao.
Also this was just for fun. Don’t murder me. Haha.
Mobiverse letter challenge: Day 23 - Last Person Avalon Kissed:
Do you remember that day? Do you remember how you slinked up to me said those three little words? Those words struck fear in my heart. I was frightened for the both of us. You see, I had loved you for a long time before you told me. I thought my feelings were unrequited, but I was wrong. Oh, I was so incredibly wrong.
Our love was forbidden. We would be shunned, worse than that, if anyone found out. I know Ciro and Nordemann made it public, but I couldn’t, wouldn’t take that risk. If anything happened to you because of our love I….
Our first kiss though…it was wonderful. It was everything I had always dreamt about and more. You were strong with it right from the beginning. A small peck…and then suddenly you crashed into me, like a wave from your spectacular sea. Behind your kiss I felt all the passion and strength of the ocean. You even tasted like it. I tried to fight you. I desperately wanted to push you away, yet as my hands reached for your shoulders I found myself grabbing them and pulling you closer to me. You held me tightly and I clung to your clothes like I would never let you go.
And the rest as they say…is history. We kept our love a secret. We told no one, but looking back on it…do you think we hid it well? I wonder if we made it completely obvious to everyone. Not as obvious as Ciro and Nordemann but…still obvious. Do you think that when Ker-Ys would giggle behind us it was because he knew? Or when Shambhala would roll his eyes at us…was it because he knew too? Did Ciro tell me about how great it was being with Nordemann, not because he was ignorant of the consequences, but because he wanted me to know it was worth it? Did he see our love and want to show me that it was okay to be proud and indulge in it?
I wonder.
I truly wonder.
Though it matters not. We were happy in our secret love…although I could see you getting restless. You wanted to scream about it from the top of your lungs. You wanted everyone to know how much you loved me. You wanted to hold my hand in front of others, kiss me in front of others. You wanted to propose to me in front of the world….
And deep down, though I argued against you, I wanted nothing more than that too.
I did the best I could, Afriit. I bound our souls together in hopes it would be satisfactory to you. And…and I’m so glad I did.
The last time I kissed you…you were lying before me, dead. Your body had fallen apart. You were betrayed on so many levels, Afriit, and I’m sorry I wasn’t there sooner. I took care of you as best I could, but I knew it was hopeless. Your land, your people were falling and there was nothing I could do. Your last breath was taken by me, you know? Our very last kiss….
It wasn’t as sweet as the first one. You tasted like blood, metallic and thick. Although I did taste a small piece of your true essence. Amongst the bitter blood I could taste your oceanic flavor. It comforted me though only momentarily. Afterwards…you were gone.
But look! My spell…it worked! We found each other again! England and America. When I saw little America I knew right then and there my spell had worked. England fought for him against the other nations and won! America wanted him to win though. America had chosen him from the very beginning and I knew he would. As England held the tiny child in his arms I knew the inevitable outcome of their meeting. They were to fall in love.
And they did.
So…I suppose that final kiss I gave you when your soul disappeared wasn’t really all that final. Here are America and England, our new selves, kissing every time they see each other. I’ll never forget our “last” kiss, Atlantis, but I’m happy to know that our story of romance can continue in these two nations.
England sighed as set down his pen, rubbing his hand to keep it from cramping too much. In front of him was another letter to add to his and America’s ever growing collection of them. He wished there was some way he could talk to the ones writing these letters. They had so much to say and it sounded like their lives were anything but easy.
Atlantis…Avalon…. Those stories were myths, but he more than anyone knew there was fact behind legend. Although, what are the odds? What are the odds that the soul of the nation Avalon and the soul of the nation Atlantis live inside England and America. Astronomical to say the least. England didn’t want to call these letters proof…but they certainly didn’t help convince America it was all just some kind of joke.
“Perhaps I should let him attempt to find Atlantis?” England thought as he tacked his letter to their cork board.
“I agree!”
England jumped as America appeared behind him, a huge smile on his face.
“I’ll get the guys and the materials and I’ll be off then! I’m glad you finally agreed to-“
“I agreed to nothing! I was just playing around with the thought, but you’ll be going nowhere!”
“Come on!” America whined.
England just shook his head and turned back to the board. He slowly took down the letter he had just tacked and handed it to America.
“Do you want to read it? This one is…this one is special.”
“They’re all special.” America gave him a confused look as he read over the letter. England watched him intently, observing his facial expressions and trying to read how he felt about it. When he finished America gave a small smile and wrapped his arm around England’s waist.
“I don’t taste like the ocean!”
England smiled, knowing America wanted to say more. He was covering his concern and sadness with playfulness. It was a habit he would probably never break.
“No,” England touched America’s cheek and used his other hand to take back the letter. “You taste like grain. You always have.”
“Yep!” America said proudly. “In fact you’re the one who tastes like water. You taste like rain and dew.” He gave England a quick kiss as if to prove his point.
“So you’ve always told me.” England sighed as he once again tacked his letter to the board, this time for it to remain there. He felt America wrap his arms around him again and hold him tightly. They kissed and England couldn’t help but wonder if Avalon was feeling the same things he was. Did he feel that warm, sensual feeling that coursed through his body? Did he feel his heart swell with love and affection?
Hopefully one day he would have an answer to those questions.
Written for:
/SNIFFLE/
I LOVE YOU AVALONNNN.
And I thought I reblogged this but I didn’t o__o
