Okay so me and one of my bestest ever friends are gonna do fun prompt miny paragraph one shot story things and it'll be fun!! We will also post a few we've already done with their topic now so we can keep track of them!

Poland escape
Poland flipped his hair a bit chattering away happily in the phone "like Toris you tootttaaalllyyyy need to stop stressing your like totally over think this shit! You don't need to like escape from that big russia jerk 'cause I'm like totes gonna come save you~" He checked out his nails completely ignoring whatever Lithuania was saying because 'he was totally stressing for no reason and like have you my nails!? Their all pink and purple and sparkly and shit!' He thought to himself. "Anyway Toris!" He says suddenly cutting the lithuanian off mid sentence. "Ive like totes gotta go like prepare for your totally heroic rescue that I'm gonna do, bubyes!~" he hangs up before Lithuania can respond and sets off to go get him pony and make that big Russia's jerks new capital Warsaw.

Ivan pride
Ivan was a expert at breaking people, and he had thought that he had seen every type there was. But this one was different he didn't really know what to do with him. He seemed to have pride for the sake of having it. He was incorrigible and headstrong. He was a total idiot yet /always/ thinks he's right. His name was Alfred F Jones and he was Ivan's newest problem.

Denden alone
He had always hated being alone although it seemed like it wasn't unusual lately. And now he was more alone then ever... Half his family fought and left him and now they've took his beloved Norway with them. He was alone here with iceland who wasn't any real company. The boy only glared at him accusingly and ignored what he said, he didn't even talk much. He had never been this lonely, he had no one to talk to no one to see. He was alone, just him and his thoughts (and an angry little boy)... And his thoughts were never good as of late. They were always angry. Always violent. And always depressive. He had only tried to keep them all together and they had torn down all that he had done and left him here. And he just couldn't understand why.

Canada jealousy
Why does no one notice him?
Why cant he be exciting like his brother?
Why cant anyone see him?
Why does his brother get all the fame?
Why should he have to live in his shadow?
He wanted to be noticed but, who would notice him when the USA is right fucking there!? Why should Alfred get all that while he sat at home with a polor bear that cant even remember who he is!? He was so jealous of his brother it was ridiculous yet what could he do? He's tried to stand out to be himself and meet people so many times and what did he get for it? An angry cuban beating him over the head, or his brother with a fucking chainsaw!!! He just wanted a little of all that acknowledgment al gets! Is that so much to ask for!? A few people maybe recognizing who he is? Thats it thats all he wants! But he cant have it everyone just always notices Alfred. His own father doesn't see him half the time. And then america comes and asks 'whats wrong?' Could the blockhead be any bigger of an idiot? Did he think it didn't hurt to be walked by every time he tried so hard to make conversation? That it didn't hurt to have your father notice your brother more then you? That it didn't hurt when the only times your noticed is when your being beaten up for something you didn't do? Because it hurt. It hurt a lot. But Alfred was /always/ noticed. He got all the fucking recognition, so what did he care? He didn't because life is probably always fucking wonderful in the land of opportunity.

Scalpel russia

Ivan lifted the scalpel almost gently, it looked small in his large hands but it was no stranger there. Ivan had done this many times before. He smirked down at the struggling albino that was bound and gagged to the clean white medical table before him.
"You said to had strong pain here, da?"
He pressed the tool gently into the spot not breaking the translucent skin. He almost laughed at how hastily the prussian shook his head.
"Don't lie to me gilbert"
The tool pressed harder and gilbert quickly changed his tone and started nodding.
"Were you lying when you told me that?"
More nodding came in response.
"Hmm... Well I'm going to do the surgery anyway, you don't need your appendix anyway"
He smirked down the now terrified and struggling prussian. There would be no sedatives or painkillers for him. The prussian needed to learn you don't lie to him.
"Don't worry I've done this to each if the Baltic's. Its easy"
The prussian continued to struggled and he smirked. The tool pressed harder and he started. Muffled screaming came through the gag as he started the surgery.
By the time it was done prussia had bled out and was half dead. Not that he cared, he left the room leaving gilbert there and told Lithuania to take care of him as he passed. The prussian wouldn't lie to him again....

Italy longing
Everyone thought he was so happy and innocent, but he wasn't. He might act it but that was only because he didn't want peoples opinions of him to change. Germany and Japan might not like him anymore. So he hid his true nature. He longed to be as happy as acted. And on occasion he could trick himself into thinking he was.
But when he was alone everything was different. He was sad depressive and insecure. He was afraid of people finding him during one if these times because what would they think? It was pathetic... So he continued to pretend and hope that no one learned his secret

Canada grief

No one sees my people
No one hears their shouts
No one feels the pain
Of being so left out

Why cant you see me?
Why cant you see their grief?
Why cant you understand
Im more then i seem

Underneath the quiet
Only wanting but a glance
A proud country slumbers
Just waiting for its chance

To escape grief and sorrow
To leave loneliness behind
To out grow my brothers shadow
And show im more then just kind

If only you would notice
Im more then what i seem
I only need one chance
For then id make you see

But for now ill just keep waiting
Just continue to bide my time
But one day i swear it
The name youll know will be mine

Ivan paranoia

Ivan had always been paranoid. He couldn't remember a time when he didnt check every nook and cranny of his room and triple check the lock on his door every night before going to bed. Even now when others figured he had nothing to fear he did this and more. Hed check for ease-droppers when no one was there. Hed stop dead in hallways thinking he heard someone behind him. He continued these routine things even in his times of peace because in the end they never lasted. Peace just made the upcoming war that much worse. Yes though he loved peace he knew it was as fair-weathered as his underlings. Just like peace they always acted so loyal, so trustworthy. But he knew better.... if they could theyd stab him in the back first chance they got! If he gave them enough freedom they'd skin him alive then leave him to rot! Because thats how this world worked. Its all take, and if you start to give itll suck you in, rip you to sheds, then spit you out to suffer for your mistake. It was such a simple mistake to make to. A simple 'yes you can do that' or 'sure you can go', could cost him everything if he wasnt careful. He found couldnt trust anyone because everyone was out to get him. People say hes crazy people say hes paranoid. And maybe their right but hes okay with that... because one day theyll be ripped to shreds and spit out by this big terrible world and he'll be safe in his room... checking all the nooks and crannys for god knows what.

Latvia glory

He hadnt ment for this to happen. It truely wasnt his fault. Ivan had been in a drunken rage... but it was worse then the others. When he came for him and his brothers they had barely fought back... but not him. He fought, he lost it as he saw the lights disappear from his brothers eyes. Both of them dead for nothing. All those years playing helpless little pet only to end like this. But no not him. He had smashed Ivan over the head with something heavy.... he couldnt recall what it was... a lamp? A bottle? Oh well it didnt matter now. Now soaked in the bastards blood. He took ivans own knife and cut him to ribbons before he could regain himself. 'No guts no glory they always say, well look whos got all the glory now!' He thought bitterly in discust as one of ivans organs slipped through one of the wounds and into his lap. He pushed the discusting thing away as if it were deseased and kept slicing ivan apart. Though the man was long dead he couldn't seem to stop cutting.... had he lost it? Did he care? His brothers were dead he didnt care about anything anymore. All he knew was that he would be in the shadows no more. He'd have all the 'glory'.

Lithuania trigger

I cant take this any more
But the only way out
isnt through that door

My only escape is in my hand
Ive gotta get out
I can no longer pretend

2 gauges loaded and ready
Feel heavy in my hand
I must hold it steady
For this is my final stand

Cool metal
A soft touch on my skull
Focus on the temple
And get ready to pull

Finger on the trigger
Is all i need
To escape this life
Of hate and cruelty

My eyes squeeze shut
and i say my goodbyes
The trigger is pulled
And the life leaves my eyes

Prussia taken

Ivan had taken one thing no one could replace... his brother. There would be no more pranks, no more wise cracks, no more destroyed rooms. Gilbert was gone and he probably wasnt coming back. When Gilbert was here he used to wish he'd leave but now that he was taken he could only grieve. Every morning hed stop by his room, as if to wake the Prussian like he did before. But the bed was always sat, empty, cold and stale. He'd often stand there for a half an hour or so just remembering all those times Prussia had given him a hard time about getting up. Now he wished he had let him sleep in and had savored those moments because theyd never come again.

The room remained a mess though he itched to clean it. The bed was unmade covers still flipped over like Gilbert had just left the room. Sometimes hed dust just to keep it looking like Gilbert had just been there. Hed acastionally sit there and look around for hours when he had the time.... time was never a good thing for him anymore. When he wasnt working his mind drifted back to that room. He'd sit and think and think and that never led to good places. Hed think about what he had screwed up and how he could have possibly lost. Hed think of his brother who he had lost as a result. Things always seemed to go back to Gilbert, to revolve around him. If Gil was here hed probably laugh and tell him 'of course they revolve around me! Im awesome remember!?' But Gilbert was gone, taken away never to return. How he wished hed return. Gilbert had even promised him he would, but it was only ment to shield him. Prussia had known it was a promise he couldn't keep. But he made it all the same, because Gilbert had always looked out for him though he had rarely noticed let alone acknowledged it. But now that he was gone the signs were everywhere.

He felt almost as though there was a hole that he had never used to know was there. And Gilbert had filled it. Now without his brother he felt empty, not even Italy could cheer him up. It wasnt for another few years that he felt really alive again. He received a letter carried by a small yellow bird that he almost didn't recognize. He held Gilbird close as he read that note that tore him to shreds and brought him back to reality all at the same time.
It seemed to be written in what looked like blood and that only seemed to insensify the message.
Dear Ludwig,
I dont know how long its been since i last saw you nor do i know if ill ever see you again. But i fear that Ivan has gotten tired of me and has decided to kill me. And i needed to talk to you one more time before i go, even if you can never answer. Im going to tell you the same thing Germania told me when he died because its true for me now as well, you were to young to understand at the time, but are no longer.
Ludwig, I want you to know that though i may die and my body may wither and become dust, i will never leave you. Havent yet and i wont now. Ivan may have taken me away physically but i will always be there with you. I hope you understand. I love you Ludwig. Dont let anything get you down and remember that im always watching.
Love your brother, Gilbert Bielschmidt

Ludwig cried. He cried for his brother for his loss and for the pain that Gilbert must have suffered. Ivan had taken one thing no one could replace... his brother. There would be no more pranks, no more wise cracks, no more destroyed rooms. Gilbert was gone and he probably wasnt coming back. When Gilbert was here he used to wish he'd leave but now that be was taken he could only grieve. Every morning hed stop by his room, as if to wake the Prussian like he did before. But the bed was always sat, empty, cold and stale. He'd often stand there for a half an hour or so just remembering all those times Prussia had given him a hard time about getting up. Now he wished he had let him sleep in and had savored those moments because theyd never come again.

He struggled to move on. he struggled and struggled but in the end Ludwig was able to move on because he knew that though Ivan had taken away his brother he could never take away the prussians spirit. when everything was said in done he was able to get up and get on with his life. Because he knew prussia was still there. Looking after him as he had always done. He could feel it in the way the wind would mess up his hair almost like a pale calloused hand and he could feel it when his country accomplished something great, it was almost like a fermilular firm hand would grip his shoulder and shake it slightly.

He was able to move on because he knew that though Ivan had taken away his brother he could never take away the prussians spirit.

((So do you wanna pick the first prompt or first person??))

And here are my posts, presented in the order they were written. :3

Canada- Grief
A blonde-haired man sat alone, hunched over the counter of a bar. He'd lost count of the number of beers he had drunk. Matthew grieved for not only his brother, but for himself. Al had meant the world to him.

Yet, even so, it was all his fault his brother was dead.

Al needed him.

Matthew downed another beer, and slammed the empty glass onto the counter. Immersed in his own thoughts, he slammed his fists onto his thighs and began to cry.

How could he have allowed this? How could he have been so passive? Why, if he had stood up for himself, if he had stood up for his brother, then Russia-

Suddenly, a white-haired man with red eyes came up to him and slammed his beer onto the counter. He roughly wrapped his arm around The Canadian's shoulder.
"Matty, I haven't seen you here in forever!" Gilbert proclaimed. "Man, my brother sure has been an ass recently! He always yells at me for being 'unkempt' and 'obnoxious' and 'coming home plastered'." He drunk some of his beer. "I bet your brother has been way worse than mine, right, Matty?!" He said loudly

Matthew clenched his fists and started to shake a little.

Gilbert got into Matthew's face. "Huh?" he shouted, his breath covered with the stench of beer "Did you hear me, Matt?! I asked if your brother is as fucking stupid and annoying as mine!"

Matthew stood up, and with a scream if rage, punched Gilbert in the face as hard as he could. Gilbert went flying. "WHAT THE FUCK, MATT?!" he screeched, a hand over his bruised eye "WHAT IS YOUR PROBLEM?!"

The Canadian's tightly-clenched fists shook vehemently in anger. "YOU WANT TO KNOW WHY?!" he shouted. He snatched Gilbert's beer glass from the counter and flung it aside; the glass shattering. He approached Gilbert and grabbed him by the shirt collar. "YOU WANT TO KNOW WHAT MY FUCKING PROBLEM IS?!" He cried "MY BROTHER IS DEAD, YOU MORON!" he screamed. By this point, he was sobbing again. "AND IT'S ALL MY FAULT!" He let go of the astonished Prussian. Matthew fell to his knees and gripped the sides of his head, crying uncontrollably.

Russia- Paranoia (Took some Artistic Liberty with this one OTL)

"Napoleon is taking control of Europe!"
Then we shall not allow him to conquer us.
We shall burn our villages; burn our crops.
Many of my people will starve,
But that is the price we must pay.
They will be taking no resources from us.
They will be trapped, we will have them just where we want them....
They'll be stuck in My Land,
the land I know so well,
in the middle of the winter.
We know the terrain,
and they'll be out of supplies.
Many Frenchmen will die on the march back.
They never should have tried to take My Land.

"The Nazis are approaching!"
Then we shall hug their front lines so that they kill their own men when trying to bomb us.
They, too, shall be stuck here in the winter.
They, too, shall run out of supplies.
Many more of my comrades shall die,
but many Germans will die.
They may try,
but no one shall take my land from me.
They may try to avoid the Winter,
but I make them stay.
No one shall take my land from me.

Latvia- Glory
Ravis stood on a ladder, dusting the books in Ivan's library. He was almost finished, and had worked all day on the project.
"Ravis?" a voice down the hall called
He perked up. "I-I'm in here, Mr. Russia!" he said loudly in reply.
"What did you say?" Ivan called back.
Ravis sighed. It seemed he was always too quiet. "I said, I'm in-"
Suddenly, not paying attention to the task at hand, Ravis had lost his balance. He fell off the ladder, bumping a bookshelf in the process..
The boy sat up and watched in horror as all of the bookshelves toppled over in a domino effect.
"No no no no no!" He exclaimed loudly. "If Ivan sees this, why, he'll...."
"Latvia?" Ivan stepped into the library, not paying attention to the scene in front of him "You should really speak up more, I can't hear you from-"
Ivan's jaw dropped and he started to shake in rage. Ravis stood there like a deer in headlights and started to cry. Ivan took a deep breath, but was still frowning. "Clean up this mess, you scum." he said slowly. "Afterwards, I deal with you...." Ivan turned around to leave the room.
Latvia sucked up his tears. No, he wouldn't be subject to him.... He wasn't going to get punished for something so unimportant! Ivan never even read these books! Why should he have to suffer?! Why couldn't Ivan help him, for once? He already had so many bruises all over... His brothers were already dead, and now he was going to die, too, after a wasted effort?!
Ravis frowned "No." he said quietly.
Ivan turned around to face the boy. "What?" he asked
Ravis bit his lip. No, he couldn't back out now. "No." he said at a normal volume.
Ivan walked up to him and grabbed his shoulders. "I just told you to speak the fuck up! I can't hear you when you mumble! If you have something to say, then say it!" he shouted, angry with the Latvian.
The boy frowned. "I said, no!" he shouted at Ivan.
Ivan punched him in the face. "No, what?!" he asked angrily
"No, I'm not going to clean up these books!"
"Why not?!" Ivan questioned "You dare to defy me?! Don't you remember what happened to your brothers?"
Ravis punched Ivan in the stomach. The larger man doubled over. "I'm not going to die for nothing! They died for nothing, but I will die a martyr!"
Ivan kept frowning. "Do you truly want to die?"
Ravis glared up at him. "I will if I have to. The world has to see just how cruel you are. You starve your own people. You starve us. You force your culture upon us."
Ivan punched him again. "I am the strongest nation in the world!" he proclaimed.
Ravis punched him back. "You won't be after I tell everyone what you've done!"
Ivan put down his fist and from his jacket removed a pistol. "You really want to die, huh?"
The boy glared up at him in silence. His face was still red from when he cried, and he lifted his middle finger to the sky.
Bang.


Lithuania- Trigger
Toris stood in his room, pacing. He put his pistol into his pocket. He had to execute the plan sooner or later. He went through it in his head.... He had to wait until the right time.
He heard a knock on the door. "Toris?" Called a familiar voice "Have you already made dinner?"
Toris put on his usual obedient expression, took a deep breath, and opened the door. He looked up to see Ivan. "Yes, I made it earlier." He made it in advance to protect himself from Ivan's rage. "Good." Ivan went to the kitchen, and Toris followed him. Toris had left him a bottle of vodka with his meal.
Later in the night, it became very child, and a blizzard raged on outside. A drunken Ivan had told Toris to fetch him some blankets, so he obeyed. He brought them to Ivan. Ivan snatched them from him and wrapped himself in them. Toris only had his military jacket, which didn't help much to fend if the cold. He shivered, and tried to sit next to Ivan. "And what the hell do you think you're doing?!" He exclaimed.
Toris was about to stand, but it was then that he understood. Now was the perfect opportunity to carry out his plan!
The Lithuanian took the gun out and pointed it at Ivan. "No." He said
Ivan frowned and stood up. "You're threatening me over fucking blankets?!" He exclaimed
Toris stood up with him. "It's so cold! But that isn't the point, you stupid drunkard!"
Ivan pushed him. "Then what is?!"
Toris tried to push Ivan back, but it didn't go so well as he'd hoped. Ivan responded by punching Toris in the face. He opened the door and shoved Toris out it. The Lithuanian slipped on the icy stone steps and fell into the snow. He was barraged by the falling snow, and during the fall, he had lost his gun. He scrambled to look for it. Ivan pulled out his pipe from his jacket and hit Toris' side with it. "No way to fight back now, huh?!" Toris crumpled back into the snow and found the gun. He pointed it at Ivan again. "Your tyranny is over. No more people have to die!" He shouted bravely.
Ivan laughed, and hit Toris with the pipe again. "You're not actually going to do it! You're too much of a weakling! You can't kill me; I own you!" He laughed. He dropped the piotr and pulled out his own pistol.
Ruler and subject, guns pointed at one another. Both pairs of eyes were locked on each other.
The gears of the pistols shifted as two fingers simultaeneously pulled their triggers.
Two shots rang through the air.
One man screamed in pain, the other's lifeless body crumpled to the ground. Ivan was dead, and Toris gripped his stomach. Ivan had missed, but Toris hit Ivan's heart. He fell to his knees, and the cold snow burned his unprotected body. Red stained the white snow. He was going to die here, huh? He started to cry. It didn't even matter that it was a waste of water. It wasn't like anyone lived nearby, and Ivan had no medical supplies.

Denmark- Alone
"NO! I'M NOT GOING TO PUT UP WITH YOUR CRAP ANYMORE, MATHIAS!" Berwald screamed.
Mathias' eyes widened. "But we're a family! We have to stick together, Ber!"
Berwald lunged for Mathias with his sword, and Mathias blocked him with his axe. "Right? We have to stick together!" he said again. The two stood deadlocked.
"FAMILY DOESN'T HURT ONE ANOTHER!" Berwald yelled
"THEN WHAT ARE YOU DOING RIGHT NOW?!" Mathias shouted back
Berwald flinched a little, and The Iron sliced his arm. His sword clanged onto the floor. He picked up the sword with his left hand. "I'm not staying, Mathias. I'm leaving. You have no power over me anymore."
Berwald began to walk away. Tino followed him. "No!" Mathias shouted "I won't allow it!"
Berwald turned around. "Then what are you going to do about it?" he asked, glaring at Mathias. He continued to head for the door. He opened it, went outside, Tino following, and slammed the door.
Mathias' jaw dropped and he dropped his axe to the ground. He fell to his knees. Now everyone was gone; it was just him in this house. No longer were they the tight-knit family of Vikings they used to be. Norway and Iceland both wanted to journey on their own, and Tino and Berwald wanted to escape him. He started to cry quietly, his shoulders shaking.

Poland- Escape

Feliks sprinted for dear life through the burning streets. No, no, no! This could not be happening! Germany attacking him?! He was a dead man if he didn't get away!
He'd have to call Russia! Yeah, Russia would help him!
Suddenly, a bullet hit his leg. Feliks screamed in pain and crumpled to the ground. A lone soldier approached him: Ludwig. Feliks tried to scamper away, but his wounds would not permit. "L-LUDWIG, THERE'S NO WAY YOU CAN WIN!" Feliks shouted "I'M GOING TO CALL IVAN! HE'LL KICK YOUR ASS!" He threatened frantically; desperately.
Despite his threats, Ludwig continued to approach at the same pace. "ARE YOU NOT AFRAID OF HIM?!" Feliks shouted in despair. 'Please leave, please leave, PLEASE LEAVE!' He screamed internally.
"Look behind you." Ludwig said clearly and slowly in a monotone.
Feliks swallowed and turned his head. Russian tanks were advancing. No, no no no no NO! Feliks began to cry as bullets hit his nonvitals, and he raised his arms weakly into the sky. Warsaw had fallen.

Canada- Jealousy
So many of his comrades were dying on the field of battle. So many victories were possible thanks to him and his men.

Yet, who got all of the glory?

Alfred.

Whose efforts were mistaken to be those of The British?

Matthew.

He was always taken for granted by everyone. No one cared about him, no, it was all about his brother. His brother was a major world power, yet Matthew was always ignored by everyone. He wished someone would be his friend. He wished someone would thank him for all the hard work he had done. He wished someone would mourn over the deaths of his troops. He wished monuments were built for the Canadians lost in wars.

But, no, it was all about Alfred.

So he thought as he sat alone in his home, drinking away his problems.

Russia- Scalpel
The Germans had been in Stalingrad for a few months now. It was the middle of the winter, with bone-chilling temperatures. The Germans were out of supplies, and they had no hope left. Ivan and The Russians, however, stood their ground. So many had died on both sides, as well as civilians, but they couldn't give up yet. In the suburbs, a small firefight had broken out. Ivan had gotten involved, and killed a few Germans. A bullet hit his lower leg and he fell to his knees, and he grit his teeth, but continued to shoot.
He killed a few more Germans, and soon the fighting in that area was done.... for now. Ivan tried to get through the snow into a nearby abandoned building by dragging his body. A German soldier appeared and held up his gun to shoot at Ivan. Shit. Ivan shot the man, who fell to the ground dead. He entered the building. He found a scalpel on the floor and snatched it up. It was covered in dirt, but Ivan wiped on his coat. It was probably pretty fucking dirty, but he really didn't care. He needed to take the bullet out quickly. He'd already done this a few times, but he had to use other means of getting it out. Ivan ripped his trousers so that he had a clear view of the wound. ood, the bullet wasn't too far in. He grit his teeth and put the scalpel into the wound. His leg screamed in pain, and Ivan grit his teeth. More blood was gushing from the wound. Ivan maneuvered the scalpel around the bullet desperately, trying to remove the bullet. Dammit! It was being so stubborn! tears escaped his eyes, but he wiped his tears. It was so painful, but now was not the time to cry. He continued to try and remove the bullet from his leg, but it was refusing to come loose. More blood. Ivan frantically tried to wrench the bullet out. By this point he was breathing quickly and heavily. God, if someone was to find him here.... He threw the scalpel across the room, which landed with a clang. He tried to get the bullet out with his fingers. It finally came out after countless failed attempts, and he put it down beside him. Ivan tore the cut parts of his trousers, and wrapped it around the wound. He crawled to the other side of the room, away from the entrance of the building, picking up the scalpel. It seemed he was stuck here for a while. He held the scalpel in his hands and wiped its bloody blade on his coat. He could probably use it later, or throw it if he ran out of bullets. It certainly wasn't going to do much, as it wasn't a pocket knife or anything, but it could at least do something.....

North Italy- Longing
Feliciano was, for once, sweeping the house. Ludwig had been really busy in the past weeks, so he'd decided to help him. After finishing the larger rooms, he flopped onto the couch. He was so tired and hungry and bored. He'd propped the broom against the couch, and was looking at it with heavy eyes. He fell asleep there.
"Holy Rome, wait!" The boy called out. "I want you to have this!" He held out a broom to a boy in a black cloak. The child took it and marched off. "Italia... I'll never forget you!"
Feliciano awoke suddenly and rubbed his eyes, then looked at the broom again. Could it really be the same one?

((Next Prompt: War))

((Alfred))

Alfred war

He bowed his head respectfully before the monument infront of him. It was a man on a horse with a american flag. Then in the base there was a list of names. Names if the many brave souls who gave their lives for his country. There were so many names... as proud as he was that his people were that awesome he wished so badly that so many didnt need to die for their safty.... he regreted each life he lost but he was proud and hounered to have them fighting for him. He had respect for them and paid his respects as often as he could. As he should they gave their lives for him.... he could spare the half an hour

Alfred: War ((mine's really short. I apologize. OTL))

Alfred sat at his desk, head in his hands.
So many of his men, his citizens, his people, were out there, putting their lives on the line....
And for what? What was even the point anymore?
Why did the Confederates have to do this? Why did they have to separate?
Why were they killing their own brothers?
What is pointless killing going to achieve?

((i think i spelled ivans last name wrong))

Lithuania shadows

He hated this. He hated everything. He hated always living in someones shadow. He hated being beaten and forgotten like a piece of trash! He wasnt trash! And he was done living in the shadows! He didnt want this, he wanted to be known.... He just didnt know how to get out of them... Especially when the shadow was the formidable one of ivan Braginski