[Mod!Post] The Moment You've Been Waiting For... The HetaSummer Lightning Challenge!
Remember the HetaChristmas Lightning Challenge? Well, now that we are in the midst of the summer we have the HetaSummer Vacation Lightning Challenge!
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Type of fanwork: Fanfiction, and I can doodle fanart I guess. XD
Favorite characters: Nordics, Magic Trio, Frying Pangle and Bulgaria, but I'll write just about everyone.
Things I will not draw/write: Cameroon and Cyprus; sorry, I know nothing about them orz.
Highest Rating: PG15
Link to table so you can see what's available.
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Characters: Magic Trio! (I have so much love for them right now x3)
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America/Vietnam
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She's young, strong, tall, imposing, from Vietnam originally and takes her coffee with cream and two sugars. She doesn't drink, at least not in front of the men, but if rumors are true she can outdrink every last one of them. If rumors are also true, she's never been drunk enough for a man to pull into bed. Alfred has the biggest crush on her, he's not afraid to admit it.
Lien Mai is her name, but Alfred can't pronounce it right. He always says it "Len" and doesn't quite understand that two names are actually one. He doesn't know that this is the wrong thing to do. He thinks her scowls and sarcastic eyerolls are because she really just hates him. Which isn't surprising. Alfred is popular, but he's popular because people think he's popular. Not many actually like him.
Alfred is too loud and too obnoxious and too Alfred and it's bothersome to just about everyone. They prefer his brother, his brother who is quiet and gentle and classy and has this slightly snarky sense of humor that women adore. His brother, Matthew, who is ( ... )
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Romania/Bulgaria, please?
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Romania lies with his eyes closed, fingers tracing a light pattern on the base of Bulgaria's spine. The bones beneath are knobbly but the skin is warm and smooth; dry, especially. Bulgaria's skin is very dry for some reason. Always has been.
Romania moves further up, coming across light nicks and tell-tale scars. Some are long, thin, the shapes and placement of which are familiar enough that he remembers having dressed those wounds only a few decades ago. Others are more gnarled, however -- older, jagged, from a time filled with animals and nations and people that acted like both. Romania hasn't got great memories of people, and every time he's lying here, just touching and thinking and feeling, he's reminded that Bulgaria probably doesn't either.
Bulgaria shifts beside him and says in his ear, "The hell are you doing?"
"You ask that every time. Don't you know by now?"
A sigh. "I'd think you'd be familiar enough with me by now that you wouldn't need to."
The corner of Romania's mouth quirks into a smile. Bulgaria is a funny ( ... )
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The other's gaze shifts to his teeth, and suddenly Romania is a little self-conscious. He's run into issues in centuries past with superstitious peasants and nations who don't know better because of his teeth, because they're too long and too sharp and they don't even match anymore. He only has one now, and the bruises he leaves on Bulgaria's neck are dark and uneven.
The shift is only for a split-second. "Not particularly," Bulgaria says, sliding off the bed. Romania's hand falls back onto the mattress.
"Where're you going?"
He doesn't get an answer, but he doesn't expect one -- Bulgaria's never answered that question, not unless there's truly a problem. Romania has no cause to be worried by it.
He always comes back, after all.
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A/N Okay I don't quite know where this came from. I'm sorry if it's crappy, I only ship platonic RomBul so I don't really know how to write them in a romantic sense OTL
Anyway, there's a little bit of history going into this but not enough to really make it count as a historical. The biggest ( ... )
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Thank you for the fill!
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Prussia+Hungary! =D
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A/N Traian is Romania. ^^
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". . . and thus, I prove my client Mr. Beilschmidt is not guilty by reason of stupidness."
"Hey," Gilbert protested. The proper adjective was stupidity. Elisaveta turned around and shushed him.
"I'm trying to get you out of a situation here," she said in a sotto voice. "It's not my fault you can't do crap."
"I didn't even do anything!"
"This is a courtroom and I'm a lawyer, you're not supposed to talk."
Gilbert dramatically rolled his eyes and sighed. The ring of trees in Roderich's backyard was clearly not a courtroom, and the old plastic picnic table he was sitting at was clearly not the proper place for a defendant to be. Liz and Roddy and their friends Traian and Feliks didn't seem to know this, though -- they were all caught up in their world of justice and criminals and criminal justice and he'd just wanted to play war, was that too much to ask? A good couple of hours of running around hitting each other with sticks. That was the life.
Roddy shuffled his papers, or he would shuffle ( ... )
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Lights flickered and the ground was covered in snow and it was cold, but it wasn't cold, it was warm, was it warm? Elisaveta couldn't tell. She could tell that the ground was smooth, though, even though it was covered in glass. Glass shards lining a silver pathway as far as the eye could see, forming a pattern on the floor would show her reflection if there weren't jagged cracks covering it.
Elisaveta walked down this hall, the gown hanging loosely around her knees and stained with a bit of blood from her stomach. There shouldn't be blood there, she thought, it had been bandaged perfectly well by professional doctors and nurses and people who knew what to do. She was fine. She was walking around, wasn't she?
So why was there blood?
Gilbert said, "I can't believe we're not gonna make it to that concert."
Elisaveta turned, a bit startled. She hadn't known Gilbert was with her.
"You idiot." And Roderich, on her other side. Since when were they here? And why was Roderich missing an arm? "We're not going to the concert, we're ( ... )
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Iceland/Ukraine
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