Author's note: « But Let It Go, And You Learn » arc. See my communities for all the stories in that arc before reading this.
Normally I wouldn't want to spoil where a story is going but I'm not sure what exactly I want to do with all of Anya's story. Like I know the larger points but the smaller moments I'm having trouble with picking out, especially keeping them all from her POV since there's so much more going on in her life but I don't want to have a floating narrator since that's a pet peeve of mine. However since I've been writing the modern day RuHun I had to figure out what happens after Anya's story ends (which I was thinking should either be the same place her mother's story ended in Bonn or maybe extended to just include her and her father meeting again). And damn, I really like their kids and the family dynamic they create with the countries. Proud of myself for that.
Thus I present from Nika's point of view an imaginary French blog post she made about her family, much to Martie's chagrin. Nika is probably my favorite to write for reasons that will probably become obvious. (Girl does not like Austria, but I promise I'll write him fics to make up for it.) So basically in the reviews let me know what you want to see of Anya's story or what other moments you want to see from the Braginski clan. I have my ideas for the characters but I want to know what you guys think.
Ma Famille
This is my family. Don't like it? Fuck off.
Shove off Martie, I'll write this how I want! Jeez you're annoying!
My father's Raphael Viktor Simon, a professor at one the universities in Paris. He knows a lot about international relations, likes to tell us it's because of Mama. Papa's half-German, half-Hungarian; my grandparents were refugees in France. Papa met Mama in school and they've been together ever since, Uncle Francis says. My father is really funny though, likes tweed and old books and sitting with Déduška talking politics. I think Déduška likes talking to Papa. I also don't think Papa would have lived long enough to marry Mama if Déduška hadn't liked him. #russianfamilyproblems.
Mama's full name is Анастасия Ивановна Брагинский, cuz she's half-Russian. (In your stupid Latin alphabet that'd be Anastasiya Ivanovna Braginski.) Nagyi said she didn't mind giving Mama a really Russian name, because it made Déduška happy and I think Nagyi will do almost anything to make him smile. But Mama was smuggled out of the Soviet Union when she was sixteen and lived with Déduška's friend, Uncle Francis. Before that Nagyi used to give Mama language lessons and so Mama's always loved languages. She said it was hard when she left the Soviet Union, adjusting to life in Paris, and that Papa used to speak to her in Hungarian and German to make her feel better. So now Mama's a translator and speaks like a thousand languages. (Well, seven.) That's why she makes a point of making sure we speak with proper accents for the different languages, since she was made fun of for speaking French with a Russian accent. Rest of the world is just jealous they don't have our cool Franco-Russian accents I think.
Most of the time, at home, Uncle Francis is the one who visits because Uncle Francis is the best. He totally spoils us but he also spoiled Mama and Papa so they don't really stop him. He takes me to all the museums and ballets and operas I want, which makes Déduška happy. And Uncle Francis is really good friends with Uncle Gil. When they're both visiting? Oh man, mischievous abounds!
Uncle Gil is the only other one who lived with Déduška and Nagyi that we see. I mean, sometimes Aunt Irina gets to visit but that's not very often, and I've never met Aunt Nataliya. (Everyone says that's for the best, and thinking about her makes Déduška shudder, so I guess she's gotta be a crazy bitch.) But Uncle Gil and Nagyi are the ones who tell us stories about things they don't teach us in school, like The War from the other side's point of view, or what it was like living behind the Iron Curtain. Sometimes Uncle Gil brings his brother Lutz who I do like and who Mama gets along well with. He's right proper, like Martie, but I guess I can see a little bit of me and Martie in Mama and Lutz. Yeah you saw your name boy, I'm writing nasty things about you, now go away.
Sometimes when we see Nagyi, Roderich Edelstein is there too. He normally just stares at us and doesn't say anything. Uncle Francis says it's because he'll never get over his broken heart, for losing Nagyi. I wish he would move on though so Martie can bother him to listen to him play piano instead of me, and so that Nagyi doesn't get all quiet and sad when he's around. This isn't easy for her either, Mr. Austria Smaustria.
Martie's my older brother, Martin Raphael Simon. He's only three years older than me, which sometimes seems like decades but other times seems like days. He's in the army now; that was hard to come to terms with, for everyone, me included. But Déduška understood, and so did Uncle Francis and Nagyi and Uncle Gil and Lutz. Mama ticks off each day on the calendar when he's gone with a green highlighter because Martie likes green. I mean, yeah, Martie annoys the hell out of me and all, he's so disciplined and patriotic and crap, but I love him anyway you know? Help Mama tick off the days. He's my brother I don't know what I'd do if he wasn't always there protecting me, the way Déduška protects Nagyi and Papa protects Mama.
But after Martie there's the fabulous me! Véronique Anastasiya Simon, though most people call me Nika. We all have our Russian names too, since our legal names tend to be really French and sometimes Déduška gets tired and has trouble with our names. But I'm his little Nika because I look the most like Mama, just like how Martie looks the most like Papa: I have Déduška's silver-blonde hair and his crooked nose that I love, I don't care what anyone else thinks, it's fabulous. I'm also his little dancer since I love ballet the most, but when I finish school I want to be a writer, and Déduška says he really likes my Russian writings. I don't read Russian literature the way Déduška and Mama and Martie do, but I like to write in Russian. I also like to dance and wear bright colors and make everything silly when Martie or Lara try to make it all serious. Déduška wholeheartedly approves of my efforts, and Mama likes to call me her "child of the West". Post-Cold War baby problems I guess.
Lara is something else. I mean, we are close, but we're also sisters. Larisa Elizabeta kind of looks more like Nagyi than the rest of us, with dark hair and green eyes. Lara likes to dress in clothing inspired by the war, which makes Francis and Déduška laugh. She's a year younger than me and loves loves loves kpop and science. I mean, loves science. I do not understand what any of it means and it's all in one ear, out the other for me, but damn does she love it. And it's better than listening to Martie rant on about military strategies. I don't know what he's invading beyond the kitchen at two am.
Vanya's the baby, little Aubert Ivan, and he looks just. Like. Déduška. It's creepy. He's just seven years old and adorable as fuck and everyone loves him and he is just the best, you cannot not love him. Normally Lara and I watch him, when Papa's teaching and Mama's translating, while we wait for Uncle Francis to finish work so the four of us can go do stuff. When Martie's home, though, he normally hogs Vanya all for his own like the poophead he is. It's really funny to see my brothers together though, because they're both so like Déduška but still so different.
My Déduška is the best grandfather in the whole wide world. I don't care what anyone says, Ivan Braginski is the coolest guy I know. He reads these hardcore books and has seen so much pain and suffering but still loves coloring with Vanya and correcting my Russian pieces and dancing and being silly with us. Sometimes when I go out with Déduška people look at us funny, and I know it's cuz they don't trust him or whatever, but that's just cuz they don't know him like I do. He's the best Russian in the world.
And Déduška loves Nagyi. Oh. My. Freaking. God. Those two are like lovesick puppies, and I'm sixteen complaining about them acting like freaking teenagers! But as much as I love my grandfather, I think Nagyi is the one that holds us together. Everyone always says we've got something special in Elizabeta Héderváry and I can see why. For all that Mama is like Déduška she's an awful lot like Nagyi too, who is sort of like the sun we all revolve around. She can calm Mama and speak with Papa and discuss strategy with Martie and dance with me and dress up with Lara and play with Vanya, all while smiling brightly at Déduška.
It's hard, to explain to other people, especially since I can't always tell them the truth. I found out when I was fourteen because I accidentally found a picture of Déduška and Uncle Francis from 1942, and so Lara and I were told the truth earlier than expected. Vanya, well, I think they won't have to tell him, because he's the one that knows how many of our family members are countries incarnate but thinks nothing of it, since it's normal for him. Just like Mama and Papa, who always remind us that it doesn't matter that they look older than Déduška and Nagyi, that the countries are people too, and I get that. Most people wouldn't but I do. Because I've been held in the arms of Russia, danced with France, cooked with Hungary. I've joked with Prussia and spoken with Germany and even watched an opera with Austria. And there's more countries, I see them all the time, but I think nothing of it.
Because this is my family and I swear to God Martie you put that fucking back where you found it, no of course I didn't touch your stupid hat go ask Lara. No I don't know where she is, just call her name, the apartment didn't grow while you were gone- off my bed! Grr, and I had written such nice things about you. Asshole.
But yeah, that's my family. Everyone's still filing in for Christmas, so it's super crazy and super awkward in the apartment since it ain't that big to begin with. But it's fun and Mama said this year Déduška and Nagyi are going to give me something special. I'm banking on either a gun or giant diamond.
Ma famille est la meilleure. Non, Martie, j'ai déjà dit non! Merde, tu es idiot!