if I’m gonna add a self-indulgent prompt I might as well be self-indulgent lol
seen from United States

seen from China

seen from United States
seen from Lithuania
seen from China

seen from United States

seen from Israel
seen from Germany
seen from Israel
seen from China
seen from Israel
seen from Germany
seen from Israel
seen from Germany
seen from China
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Russia

seen from United States
seen from Türkiye

seen from United States
if I’m gonna add a self-indulgent prompt I might as well be self-indulgent lol

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Second Gen/Childhood Memory
fanfiction
Anastasia was tucking her youngest, Oliver, into bed, when he suddenly pointed at an old photograph on the wall.
“Mommy, who is that?”
She turned and looked, seeing a remaining photo of Vlad.
“Oh. Well, that’s your Uncle Vlad, my brother.”
“Where is he?”
The question made Anastasia freeze as she held the blanket between her fingers. Quickly, she tucked him in, saying goodnight and heading towards the door.
“Mommy?”
She stopped and sighed. She turned towards the picture and walked towards it, taking it off the wall. She sat down next to her son on his bed.
“He’s away.” She said quietly.
“Away where?” Oliver asked, crawling into her lap and looking at the photo.
“We don’t know. He just up and left one day. Haven’t heard from him since.”
Anastasia looked down to see a sad expression on Oliver’s face.
“But,” she said, “we did have some fun adventures when we were kids.”
His eyes perked back up at that. “Really? What did you guys do?”
“Well, we were a very mischievous pair, always getting into trouble. We played tag, played make believe with the frog statues outside, explored the abandoned house.”
“Can I go to the abandoned house?!” Oliver exclaimed, bouncing with excitement.
“No, no, dear. The building is much too old. It’s probably a lot more dangerous than it was when we were kids.”
He pouted for a moment, before looking at the photo again.
“Do you think he’ll ever come back?”
Anastasia turned her own gaze to the old photograph. Her fingers traced the grain of the frame.
“I don’t know.” She whispered.
“I hope he does.” Oliver said softly.
“Me too, Oliver. Me too.”
Anastasia stood up and tucked Oliver back into bed. She gave him a goodnight kiss and walked to the door, turning off the light before shutting it.
Heading into her own room, she opened a cabinet that held different photo albums and picture frames. There was even a raggedy teddy bear and an old, handcrafted turtle.
She hugged the picture frame tightly to her chest. After a few moments she carefully placed it inside and closed the door.