Drowning-In-Pursuit

    Anya woke up surrounded by soft feather filled pillows and a silky blanket that smelled sweetly of brown sugar. She blinked her light purple eyes in confusion, the events prior to her waking having been temporarily forgotten. The baffled child sits up, opening her mouth wide to let out a yawn. “Where am I…” Anya thought to herself as she looks around the room as if looking for an answer to bafflement. As if on cue a certain blonde haired hero enters the room.    “Oh! Lookie who’s awake!” Amelia exclaimed as she almost waltzed towards the child with excitement. “You’ve been sleeping ever si

    Amelia smiled as she hurried down the street on her way to work. A croissant was hanging out of her mouth as she ate it without her hands which were occupied carrying her coffee and work files. “Late! Ahhh so late the boss is going to kill me!” She uttered to herself as she dodged and jumped through the crowds of people. Her alarm clock must not had been set properly the night before, for it had went off hours later then it was supposed to. In a fit of desperation she decided to take a short cut.    Running through the back alleyways of the cities could often lead you to your desired destination quicker than the main roads,

    “One foot after the other,” Alfred told himself as he trekked through the mud. Icy rain was pouring from the midnight purple sky as the American soldier struggles to find his target. His tan military uniform was now caked with dirt and stains that won’t come out for weeks to come. Currently he was in the middle of a forest located in a secluded part of Germany. Rumor had it spies were camping out there. Our protagonist was chilled to the bone, his fingers and toes numb with cold. His joints were stiff and achy from constant strain and movement. His moral was running a bit low, the harsh elements showing him no mercy. Sle

    Allan smiles as he hugs Matt tightly. “Mattttttttt!” He giggles, “Maaaaaattttt!” Currently both were sitting in their soft baby blue coloured high chairs. Oliver’s comforting hums can be heard from the living room as he tidies up. Their daddy would be home any minute, they knew their mommy was working on making the house spotless in order to please their picky father. Al lets out a cute chuckle as he noms on a meat ball. “Matt,” he says as he twirls spaghetti onto his fork. “Do you think daddy will be happy when he comes home?” All Matt does is giggle, making a red sticky mess of his f

    "M-Mommy!'' Allan cried, waddle running over to Oliver who was baking cupcakes on the kitchen. Allan held his hand over his eye, blood dripping through the cracks in his fingers. Him and Matt had been rough housing in the play room. After unintentionally tripping Matt, Allan had taken a blow to the eye from his brother.    Oliver turned around, his sleeves rolled up and apron on. He was cradling a mixing bowl in between his elbow and arm. "What is it Alla-" He's cut off by gasp of surprise, the mixing bowl tumbling out of his grip and onto the floor. Batter splattered everywhere as he rushed over to his baby, kneeling down besides Allan

    "Francis!" Arthur squealed as he ran through the house being chased by his beloved french man. "Stop it his instant!" He dove under the bed hoping it would be sufficient place to hide. Francis's foot steps echoed through the empty halls as he searched for Artie, a french maid outfit being held tightly in his hand.    "Ohonhonhon~" Francis giggled as he quietly sneaked into the master bedroom, already knowing where Arthur was hiding. "He's so predictable~" Francis thought to himself as he stalked towards their bed. "Oh Artie~ Come out come out wherever you are~" Under the bed, Arthur lay still and quiet, his cheeks a bright cherry pink.

   [Warning: Cursing and Violence because I'm a Sadist :) ]   Allan was pale as he rushed around the house looking for duct tape. "Oh shit oh shit oh shit!" He cursed under his breath as he paniced. He had just made the biggest mistake in his life. Allan had unintentionally snapped the handle off of Matt's blood splattered hockey stick. He knew had to fix it before his brother came home from his meeting or his ass would be grass.    What happened was a freak accident, or atleast that is what he kept telling himself. In one of his many attempts to mimic his brother, Allan had been holding the hockey stick in his hands. Unfortunately, Allan

    "A-Alfred," Matt choked out, trying to shake his brother awake. Hot tears streamed down his cheeks as he struggled to hold in his sobs. "W-Wake up...A-Alfred...p-please..." Alfred tossed and turn in his sleep for a few moments before groggily waking up, his mind hazy.    "Huh?..." He muttered, seemingly unaware of his brother in hysterics. "No..No..Just five more minutes..." Matthew groaned in dismal.    "N-No!" He almost screamed as he lunged himself into his brother's arms. This seemed to pull Alfred out of his drowsy trance as he slowly wrapped his arms around Matt, who was now sobbing heavily into Alfred's shoulder. It took Alfred

    Francis's eyes sparkled as he watched the man he loved attempt at making breakfast. "Mon cheri..." He uttered as he gentle hugged Arthur from behind. "Don't burn the house down..." He whispered teasingly into his ear. "The repair men are still working on fixing the house after you tried to make dinner for me last month..." Artie's cheeks soon became a light pink, has hands never faltering as he continued to whisk the pancake batter.    "S-Shut up..." He muttered as he became quite flustered. "I'm not going to burn the bloody house down..." Francis could only giggle like a school girl at Arthur's reaction.    "Your sooooo cute when you

    Ivan lived alone in solitude, so he was very surprised when he heard a knock at the door. He thought he had imagined it like he has done many times before, but this theory was soon debunked as he heard it again. This time, the knocking was almost frantic.    "C-Coming!" He managed to stuttered in his shock. Ivan made his way over to the door, the archaic floor boards creaking in protest under his weight. Imagine his surprised when he saw a younger man with hair the color of spun silver, his eyes the color of a deep shimmering purple. The man was conspicuous against the white washed ground that was covered in snow from the earlier snow s