Violania

A/N Right, quick thing about my writing. The character’s only use their Countries’ names at the meetings, they use their human names the rest of the time… Just thought I would esplain before you go WTF on me. It had been two months since Arthur met (y/n) at the World Meeting, and he thought about her every day, he had hoped that he would get his infatuation by now. He walked down the street to Francis’ house, a folder containing paperwork tucked underneath his arm. He was muttering to himself. “Stupid frog, now I have to take the bloody paperwork to his place and make him sign it.” He was interrupted by a

A/N You people made a mistake, now that I know some people like my stuff, you’ll never get rid of me muhahahahahaha. P.S. I HAVE HAD NO INTERNET FOR HOURS!! England crossed the threshold of the conference centre and almost instantly France hurled abuse at him. “’Allo, eyebrows. ‘ow are you on zis fine day?” France was smiling, something was up with him. “Just great.” England replied, walking past the Frenchman. “I was too, and then you showed up.” France continued to stand near the doorway as England walked away; he looked as if he was waiting on someone. England walked past the Allies

  What was this game to you? You know, other than countless hours being wasted . Other than that, there really is no significant reason to be attached to the game.  Minecraft.  You didn't have a significant hold on the game, your friends pretty much just made you play it at one point. Although you particularly liked using a bow and arrow on enemies. Made you feel safer with Creepers and Endermen running around.  But you rarely thought about what it was truly like inside the game though, in the system. What did the world look like from your avatar's perspective? What did your avatar see?  You see boxes on the surface of your screen. Tr

  "Maw..." You heard a small muffled voice call out softly. "Maw..."   As you slipped back into consciousness, an areas of noises started coming to you. The first noise you heard was a storm which was blowing wind and thundering outside. Then came the noise of one of your children's muffled crying.   "Maw...wee Arthur woke me up fur o' th' storm." Sitting up, 6-year old Iain stood at the doorway holding his 3-year old little brother's hand. Arthur was crying and sniffling, grabbing the bottom of his pajamas.   "Thank you Iain...how about you get your little brothers and we can all stay here tonight." The red-head salute

  England has been scratching away at the white door for hours, since he first arrived at the young nation's home. There were now visible claw-marks from where he was scratching away and his fur was becoming drenched from the rain that started falling.   Clawing. Fur.   Yes, one of England's spells backfired on him and he was reduced to the mere form of a cat. He couldn't use magic and if he asked any other nation for help, they would surely make fun of him for it.   Seeing as how __________ was a fresh new face in their world, he thought maybe she wouldn't be as careless about the situation compared to the rest of the

"Miss __________!" a little voice yells to me as another one climbs on top of you. You're laughing, trying to take the little spider monkey off your back. "Miss __________!" the children are chanting, save for Matthew. He is sitting next to his white bear, holding it close to his body. "Can we have McDonald's for dinner?" one of the blonde children asks. His name is Alfred, and he has wide, blue eyes. "No! Don't listen to him!" another of the blondes, this one with emerald eyes, yells. This is Arthur. "Miss __________, don't make me eat that!" "You're weird!" Alfred screams and suddenly tackles him. I have to pry the two boys apart, whi