#aph cananda

PSA: This is strictly referring to the characters in the show and not the real-life people, governments, and countries behind the names.

Japan: isolated himself from the world for a long time. Not very sociable and is afraid to try new things and come out of his shell but deeply longs for friendship with others. but he’s afraid that he might not be accepted or that he’s waited to long to join everyone else who already have established friendships and lives. To avoid rejection he locks himself away for hundreds/thousands of years. He also has a strained relationship with his brother China, since China tried to mold him in his own image rather than let Japan be his own person. He wants to be accepted as he is and not what his brother can turn him into.

American: fast-paced and loud and a bit of a hoarder. However when things quiet down he shown to have a much quieter somber side to him. He's weighed down by the pain of his past mistakes and losses and uses consumption as a coping mechanism to fill the void of emptiness inside himself.

Romano: Always referred to as Romano even though he is also Italy. He watched as his grandfather choose to teach Italy Fine Arts instead of him and later was casually dumped on Spain by Austria like he was worthless. He's envious of his younger brother's skills and overall like-ability. He lashes out in frustration due to his own insecurities. Romano tries to act detached uncaring even though the actions of everyone around him affects him deeply and he just wants for people to appreciate him as he is without comparing him to his brother.

Canada: Is deeply hurt by all the times he is overlooked by everyone else. Has accomplished a lot and has a pretty good life but no one seems to take notice. His soft-spoken and passive nature prevents him from standing up for himself and he tends to just let others walk all over him. He’s afraid of being forgotten and left behind.

Germany: He's been vilified by his own family and hated for things beyond his control. He's a perfectionist, yet things never seem to fall into place for him. He tries his best but things still constantly go wrong. He wants to prove his worth by becoming more powerful. He stumbles through social/emotional situations since he’s ‘never had real friends before’. When he first meets Italy he openly tells him he’s probably going to be a terrible friend. He's quick to except Italy as a friend even though he's not a strong Ally. Being around his friends reveals a much brighter side of Germany. One that seemed to just be searching for acceptance and friendship rather than power.

Fortunate Son 

Matthew knew something was up when they crossed the river and kept going west. Alfred pressed the accelerator to the floor, his back pressed into the seat, the car an extension of him. Alfred never looked more part of a machine. He was himself and yet not. It was summer, 1970. They had both just turned eighteen – and already their lives were heading in very different directions.

              “How?” Arthur asked, “What happened?”

              “I don’t know.” Francis was in a daze, “Matthew asked me to play with him, but Alfred wasn’t with him. I started calling for him, then you came out, took Matthew, and then you were gone.”

              “Well obviously it wasn’t me,” Arthur snapped, “Or the boys would still be here.”

              “Well then you tell me where they are! You know more about those things than I do!”

              “This isn’t my fault!”

              “Why wouldn’t you just listen to me?!” Francis screamed, “I’ve told you there was something watching us!”

              Arthur hesitated, “You’re right. I’m sorry.” He pulled Francis into his arms, “I can find them, I’ll get help. I can find the Fae, find out where they have the boys. We’ll bring them home. I promise."

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              Days passed with no sight of the boys, no sound from the Fae, and no progress on how to find them.

              “If we were home, in England, what would you do?” Francis finally asked.

              “Well, I have my own fairies there who could help-”

              “But if you didn’t? If you needed to find the Fae in England, and you couldn’t ask your fairies for help? Then what would you do?”

              Arthur closed the journal he had been reviewing, “I suppose I would just…walk into the woods and hope for something to happen.”

              Francis nodded and stood up, “Then that’s what we’ll do.”

              “What?” Arthur hesitated until the door closed behind Francis and then ran after him. “Francis! You can’t just walk out there and hope for the best!”

              “That’s what you just said you would do.”

              “Well, yes, but I actually know things about the Fae. You don’t.”

              Francis glared at him, “Then teach me.”

              “Teach you…what’s most important?” Arthur looked back, they weren’t too far from the house yet, “Wait here, I’m going to get my journal.” He dashed back to the house.

              Francis rolled his eyes and kept walking.

              “Francis! I said to wait!” Arthur gasped as he caught up again. “All right, the first thing to know is that they’re very intentional with the way they’ll word things. They’ll say something to make it sound like they’re helping you, but really you’re doing what they want. Don’t ever give them you’re name: you can tell them what you’d like to be called, but be careful how they word it. If you give them your name, they’ll have power over you.”

              “And then what?”

              “Then you’ll be they’re slave for a hundred years or anything else they might want from you. Don’t eat or drink anything they offer you. Fae food is…different.”

              “You’ve tried it then?”

              “Circles made from rocks or mushrooms or flowers could be a way to bring us to their court, or they could be a way to trap us for another hundred years: it’s not worth that risk.”

              Francis thought for a minute, “Is there any way to ward against the Fae?”

              “Some,” Arthur nodded, “Iron always works. Salt or silver could work too. Holy water might, I can’t remember.” He flipped through a few pages in his journal.

              “And why haven’t we tried to keep them away before?”

              “That’s…the boys. We would learn once and for all which one’s ours-“

              “They’re both ours, Arthur.”

              “But it would hurt him. I don’t want that.”

              Francis was quiet for a few minutes, “Once we have them back, we’re going home. To England or France or anywhere else. Away from them.”

              “Francis? There’s one more thing you need to know. Time doesn’t move the same way in the court. It’s only been a few days for us, but it could have already been years for the boys.”

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              Francis fell silent again as the two wandered through the forest. Occasionally Arthur would suggest where to turn, or when to stop and look around, but hours later they still hadn’t found the Fae court or the children. “Maybe we should go back.” Arthur finally suggested.

              “No.”

              “Francis, we’re not prepared to stay in the wilderness for days. We’re not even prepared to stay here tonight. We haven’t eaten since breakfast, we don’t have any water, it’s going to get colder when it gets dark. We’ll come back, we’ll try again tomorrow. We’re not giving up, we’re just preparing ourselves this time. I promise.”

              Francis sighed and swallowed back more tears, “You’re right. Let’s go home.”

              “I’m sorry.” Arthur took his hand as they went back the way they had come.

              A few minutes later, Francis yawned, considering asking Arthur to rest for a few minutes, when Arthur suddenly stopped. “Wait,” he said, “We haven’t been here before.”

              “What do you mean? Are we lost?”

              “No,” Arthur turned around, “I knew exactly where we were a few paces back. Now…” He let go of Francis’ hand and took a few steps back.

              Francis yawned again, realizing how tired he was and turned to follow Arthur. Arthur was gone. “Arthur?” He turned around again and suddenly it was dark, the moon high overhead. He was wide awake again. “Arthur?” He wondered for a moment if he had fallen asleep without realizing it. “Arthur!”

              “Francis?” Arthur’s voice called back to him, sounding far away.

              “Arthur!” Francis ran towards his partner’s voice.

              “Francis!” Arthur called him again, further away and from a different direction.

              Francis turned around, lost. He waited until Arthur called him again, this time from the same place. He started running again, stumbled and fell into a small stream. He quickly pushed himself back up and backed away from the water, there wasn’t supposed to be a stream in this part of the forest. “Arthur!” This time there was no answer. He took another step back and tripped again. He felt himself falling, but instead of landing on the ground under a moonlight sky, he landed in an underground cave.

              Francis gasped as he sat up. Arthur was there with him, “We found them.” He whispered.

              “How long have you been here?” Francis asked as he stood up.

              “A few hours, I think. It’s hard to tell.”

              Francis stood up, looking around. They were in a narrow, mysteriously lit, chamber, almost like a hallway. “What now?”

              Arthur pointed further down the path, towards a brighter light, “I think we’re supposed to go to them.” Francis nodded and gripped Arthur’s hand as they walked together. “Let me do the talking.” Arthur whispered. Francis nodded again as they entered a larger chamber, brightly lit in a bluish light.

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              “Welcome, travelers,” a beautiful, dark haired woman greeted them as she rose from a throne that appeared to be made from twisted roots, “You must be weary. May I offer you some nourishment? Or perhaps a place to rest?”

              “No.” Arthur stated angrily.

              “Very well, may I ask your names?”

              “You may call me Albion.”

              “Albion,” she repeated as she settled back into her seat, “That is a nice name.”

              “It was given to me by some like you.”

              “Really? Then you are a friend. Are you sure you don’t need anything?”

              Arthur frowned, “The only thing I’ve come here for is my children.”

              “Hmm,” she settled further into the throne, “That is an interesting dilemma. I know the which ones you mean, but there’s a problem: only one of those children is yours, the other is mine.” She snapped his fingers and Alfred and Matthew appeared in the center of the chamber. Unharmed, unmoving, unbreathing, frozen in time, looking exactly as they had when they disappeared.

              Francis cried out in shock before Arthur squeezed his hand to silence him.

              The queen glanced at Francis before returning her attention to Arthur, “Here they are. If you can correctly tell me which one is yours, he can leave with you. If you guess wrong, they will both stay with me.”

              “That’s not-” Arthur protested.

              “Those are my rules, and you are guests in my home. If you refuse to play, you will never have any chance of bringing your son home.”

              Arthur gave Francis a helpless look, “I don’t-” he whispered, “I’m sorry.”

              “Then you forfeit?” the queen cried triumphantly.

              “No.” Francis spoke suddenly.

              “So you do wish to play?” she smiled.

              Francis looked away from Arthur, letting go of his hand to step closer to the boys.

              “Wait-” Arthur protested before his voice was cut off.

              Francis turned back to see that a vine had grown up from the ground, wrapping around Arthur and covering his mouth.

              “Tell me, what is your name?”

              “My children call me Papa.” Francis took another step closer to them.

              “Of course,” the queen smiled as if she had discovered a secret, “’Mother’s intuition’ I believe you humans call it. Then I take it you know which child is yours?”

              “Yes,” Francis knelt in front of the boys, wishing they could see him. “They’re both mine.”

              The queen laughed, “But they’re not.”

              “But they are.” Francis spoke with quiet anger, “One belongs to me by birth, the other by adoption. Even if you were the one who left one with me, I was the one who raised him. It doesn’t matter which is which.”

              “Those aren’t the rules of them game.”

              “Then wake them. Ask them who their mother is. They know me, can you say that? Did you give them names? I named them Alfred and Matthew, and those are my names to use, not yours. They are both my children.”

              The queen frowned, “I could kill you for speaking to me this way.”

              Francis stared into her eyes, “Then try.”

              She stared at Francis for what felt like an eternity, the shrugged, “Take them then. Both of them. And the other one,” she nodded toward Arthur, “Never let me see you again, or I will reclaim my child. And his brother for the trouble you’ve caused me.”

              Suddenly the family was back in the forest. The boys were awake, Arthur was free, and Francis was shaking and crying. He hugged Alfred and Matthew to himself, kissing them both and checking that they weren’t illusions.

              “Papa?” Matthew asked as Francis kissed him. Alfred just giggled from the attention he was getting.

              “Oh, my darlings,” Francis sighed, “Papa’s missed you so much.”

              Arthur wrapped his arms around all three of them.

              “How did you do that?” he asked, “How did you know that would work?”

              “I didn’t.” Francis laughed through his tears, “I just couldn’t let her take them from me.”

              “Alfred, Matthew,” Arthur picked them both up, “Let’s go home.”

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              A few days later Francis was half asleep on one of Arthur’s ships, watching Arthur play with the boys. He had barely slept in between the boys return and the family’s departure. Francis had insisted they return to England after the boys were returned, and Arthur agreed. The boys had put up a fuss about leaving for a day or two, until they realized traveling across the ocean would be an adventure.

              Arthur scooped the boys up and brought them over to where Francis sat in the shade of the sail. “I don’t know who needs a nap more, you, me, or them.” He laughed.

              “Not me!” Alfred protested.

              Francis reached up and took him from Arthur, “I’m not so sure, you look sleepy.”

              “Do not!”

              “I do.” Matthew yawned.

              Arthur laughed and gave Matthew a kiss before helping Francis to his feet and escorting him to their quarters. Francis immediately laid down in the bed, Matthew quickly cuddled into him, while Alfred tried to protest by climbing over Arthur, who was taking off his boots.

              “Not tired.” He repeated.

              “Oh, yes you are.” Arthur laid down with him, “You just don’t know it yet.”

              “Nuh-uh.” Alfred yawned.

              Francis wrapped an arm around both boys as Arthur laid down on the other side of the bed. He reached over the almost asleep boys to brush Francis’ hair our of his face, “We’re safe.” He promised again.

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It All Started With A Song 

by Witty Name Goes Here 

NethCan, Human AU. Matthew's life is pretty normal. However, that changes when he breaks up with his boyfriend, who writes a nasty song about him, which just happens to have his name in it. And when the song lands the band a record deal and goes to the top of the charts, things only get worse. The song makes him an overnight star, but is fame all it seems?