heracles: *is extremely mentally ill, runs on 2 hours of sleep and pure spite, hasn't eaten anything but cheap feta cheese and stale whole grain bread for 4 years, copes through sleep and spacing out*
miroslav, who also does all of the above except he eats ćevapi occasionally: i can fix him
//-dusts off blog- so finals amirite? I’ll see how much I’ll do with this blog over the summer ahaha
In the meantime, I wrote some drabbles! Based on some ships, though various levels of shippyness varies. All drabbles ended up as 100 words, which I’m proud of lol, though some have some notes added on.
Ao3
BosHerze Castle
“…and that’s the gardens, and this is the castle!”
Bosnia spread her arms wide as she gestured towards the sturdy looking fortress. “We’ll be staying here a while before we continue on to Visoko.”
Zahumlje said nothing. He was miserable. At least when he was being bossed around by Serbia or Croatia or Rome*, they had been taller and older, so them being more powerful was fine. But now, he was being bossed around by some girl a head shorter than him with flowers in her scandalously short hair. It was the worst embarrassment a nation could imagine.
Life sucked.
*Rome in this case is the Byzantine empire, as when it still existed it was just called Rome.
SloMace Wicked
“Oh, wicked!”
Primož raised an eyebrow at Vesna. “Wicked?”
She grinned. “It means, like, cool. It’s slang. Doesn’t hurt to try slang sometimes, you know. All the cool, hip bands say it.”
He definitely did not pout as he said, “I can use slang.”
“Sure, Primo.” Vesna smiled patronizingly at him, then paused and tilted her head slightly, as if thinking hard. “Going back to cool bands though, you’re a part of ours, so I guess we automatically don’t qualify as cool. How sad.”
He threw a nearby shoe at her, as she laughed and danced out of the room.
SerbCro Evaluate
“Novak.”
“Krešimir.”
The two men evaluated the other. They hadn’t seen each other in a while, at least not outside the professional business sphere, and suddenly happening upon the other man so casually raised their hackles quite a bit. They gazed intently, as if those gazes would reveal the other man’s weaknesses and secrets.
This show off, however, would’ve been significantly more tension filled if it weren’t for the fact that they were in a dog park and Novak’s dog Ben was sniffing Krešimir’s dog Jelena’s butt.
Novak tugged on the leash. “Ben, stop that. Oh, Lea don’t you start.”
CroHun Explosion
Croatia threw himself on the ground as the enemy sent another volley of arrows, these setting the wood in the castle on fire. He wouldn’t die from the arrows, not permanently at least, but it would still hurt. Sieges sucked.
He chanced peeking up and saw Hungary standing straight over the ramparts, laughing and making rude hand signs towards the enemies. He stared at the older boy in disbelief and awe.
“Are you crazy?” Croatia yelled over the sounds of battle. He ducked down as more arrows rained down.
He heard Hungary laugh, and decided yes, the boy was nuts.
*this is during the time Hungary thought she was a boy.
MontHerze Strike
Nada slammed the trunk closed and looked through the window, grinning. She sauntered around the car to the passenger seat and sat so she was straddling Danica.
Danica gave her a chastising look, but Nada could only properly see one eye, so the reprimand was minimalized. Nada grinned unashamedly.
“Are the—”
“Weapons all in? Yes, it’s all good.”
Danica let out an irritated huff, but put her hands on Nada’s waist and Nada’s grin grew smug. She put her own arms around Danica and leaned in. “We’re ahead of schedule, we could—”
She was interrupted by a kiss.
*Nada is nyo!Herzegovina
MontMace Moonlight
The moonlight brightens Vesna’s hair, turning the auburn locks into a fierce red befitting her fierce personality. Her tanned skin doesn’t fare as well though, looking too pale and washed out wherever the moonbeams hit. Even against stark white sheets, her skin seems too dull for such a vibrant person.
Danica lightly pushes some curls off Vesna’s shoulder, then traces a finger down her arm. Vesna doesn’t stir, so different from her constant moving when awake.
The colors, the movement, it’s all so off.
Danica leaves the bed then. Vesna at night is too different from Vesna during the day.
SerbMont Rose
Danica looked down at Novak’s hands. “What’s this?”
He gave her an irritated look. “It’s a flower. A rose. Several of them, actually. I’m sure you’ve seen flowers before, they’re pretty common.”
Now, she gave the irritated look. “I know what flowers are. Why are you giving it to me?”
“Because I like to give gifts?”
“Of a bouquet of roses? You?”
“Oh, shut up.”
Novak shoved the bouquet into her chest. If Danica didn’t know better, she would’ve said he was blushing. “Just take the damn flowers, already.”
She grabbed them, just so they didn’t fall to the floor.
SerbGre Gaudy
Novak stared down at the shirt he was wearing.
“Do you really think this looks good,” he asked Heracles.
“Have I ever led you wrong?”
“All the time.”
“How about with fashion?”
“Yeah, then too.”
Heracles ignored that. “It looks fine. Everyone will be talking about it.”
Novak looked down at his outfit once more. “I don’t know, purple and orange…”
Heracles crossed his arms, and imagined petting a cat to calm down. “Fine, I’ll wear it then.” He started unbuttoning Novak’s shirt, then paused. He raised an eyebrow. “Unless you want to take it all off and stay in?”
KosLiech Hypnotise
Aleksandra pulled excitedly on Lili’s hand, leading the smaller girl through the tents at the fair. “The fortune teller’s tent was right over here!”
Lili plodded along behind her, not as convinced that going to a fortune teller was a great idea. “I don’t know, Sandra. Do you really want to get hypnotized or something?”
Aleksandra looked over her shoulder. “To see my future? Uh, yeah! It’s gonna be awesome, don’t worry about it.”
The arrived in front of a purple tent with an eye on the front flap, still holding hands. Aleksandra gave Lili a smile. “It’ll be fine.”
BosTurk Broom
Bosnia swept up the colorful glass shards. Serbia, Wallachia, and Greece had broken one of Turkey’s vases. Again.
Boys, she scoffed in her thoughts as she carefully tipped the shards from the broom pan into a cloth bag to throw away later. No respect for their betters.
Because Turkey was in so many ways their better! Not only was he taller and older and more handsome than Serbia, Romania, and Greece could ever hope to be, he was also kind and gentle. Yet, he knew when to be tough.
The perfect man, she sighed, carrying the bag of shards away.
