For those who know me well enough, yes, I am starting yet again a new story and yes, chances are, I'm probably going to give up on it. But I already have about twenty chapters planned (which is what happens when I'm left for ten days without internet) so you can expect this story to go on :D

Pairings will be those my reviewers (if I ever get any) suggest, Russia will not be paired with my OC so feel free to ask me to insert Rochu, Amerus or whatever.

The names in bold indicate whose point of view it is.

The chapters will all fall into different categories depending on what part of the plot they are focusing on so the chapter title will be in two parts : the sub-story and the chapter name, enjoy reading and please review!

Rated T for now.

Due to a reason explained in the latter chapters, a few chapters will be merged together, don't be surprised.

Germany sat around the circular table, along with all the other countries, tapping his pen on the dark glass surface. The world meeting was supposed to start hours ago, but delayed by violent fights, rapes, a micro nation intruder, a missing country and a great amount of useless chatter, it had yet to begin… which was far from unusual. Why God? Why are these idiots countries? Germany thought. He had made multiple attempts to obtain order, none of which succeeded. The tall blond was now at the limits of his patience, a fingernail away from snapping. He was about to display his authority once more when he noticed the odd atmosphere surrounding the unproductive meeting, he started scanning the table in search of its source.

Right next to him were the two Italian brothers, the first one, Veneziano, was crying. Ludwig immediately reacted, reaching his hand towards the sobbing nation but stopped in his tracks when he heard about the disaster that had fallen upon the poor man:
"Why don't they serve pasta? Veeeee~ I miss pasta…" Germany face palmed and turned his focus on South Italy. The latter was swearing, calling his former boss a great diversity of names Ludwig didn't know existed. Romano had, after all, spent years perfectioning his insult vocabulary. Nothing serious, mentally added the Germanic nation.

America sat beside the brothers, affirming his 'hero' title between soda slurps and burger bites. Oblivious to other's ideas, he remained as hard to understand as a mute man with both arms amputated. Ludwig knew that, being the superpower he was, if the western nation took meetings seriously others would listen and participate. Unfortunately, he lacks experience… and a brain. Oh well, everything seems normal on this side.

Switzerland followed the superpower. He was keeping a close watch on Liechtenstein, sitting a dozen seats away. His gun was resting on his lap, ready to shoot (*cough* fatally *cough*) anyone who dared lay a hand on his sister. The neutral nation still found time between glances to coach Japan on how to speak his mind. The eastern nation couldn't bring himself to tell Switzerland that he thought he might be a tad too overprotective towards the small country. That didn't change.

Germany could tell from the menacing aura who sat on the asian country's left. The imposing ash blond man was explaining to others how "it doesn't matter because in the end we'll all be one with Mother Russia, Дa?" but his quest to find friends (or victims) was just a succession of failures. Ludwig took note of what the former Soviet Union sat on. It wasn't one of those dull office chairs omnipresent in the room, no, it was red and gold covered in scotch tape and completely shattered in places. Bosby's chair. The blue eyes turned to the most probable responsible of the presence of the 'cursed' chair.

The usual England, the one throwing sarcastic comments everywhere, the one fighting with France for no reason at all, the one criticizing the absurdity always present in others' acts, was missing. Instead rested an extremely tired Englishman.

The last time Britain had given in to sleep was during war when most countries are exhausted, but the island's economy was now doing just fine and his politics were in good shape. England was also aware of the importance of these meetings, he knew better than to stay awake the night before. Ludwig couldn't figure out any reason for the island not to be full of energy and strangling France's neck.

"Veeee~ Germany, are you okay?" the blond man snapped out of his thoughts and gave Italy a quizzical look "You didn't yell your "SHUT UP! TAKE A PAPER ORGANIZE YOUR IDEAS YOU HAVE EIGHT MINUTES TO SPEAK UP." Like you do every time, instead you were just staring at Britain." Explained the Italian man.

"Do you know why he's slee – Wait no! Don't wake hi – " Too late. Veneziano had already thrown his pencil on the island nation, painfully waking him.

"Why are you sleeping?" wondered the white flag mass producer

"You bloody sod! Don't wake someone up just to ask him why he's sleeping!" criticized the groggy blond while rubbing the spot the projectile fell upon.

"You see? England-san agrees with me." Pointed out Japan earning an exasperated look from the armed man.

"Since the question's been asked, mind answering mon chéri?" asked France, tied in a 'rape proof' rope.

Britain shivered at his nickname "First of all, don't call me mon chéri you perverted git, and second, I have a personal life!"

"Then how about becoming one with me, Дa?" suggested the Russian.

"No! why the bloody hell wou – Are you sitting on Bosby's chair?"

"Дa, it's comfortable, you know?" replied the former communist.

To everyone's surprise, the man's bushy eyebrows crept towards his hair line in a very confused curb. "Didn't you slurp munch slurp gy?" wondered the American before repeating himself as no one seemed to understand him, for no reason he could think of "Didn't you bring it here, Iggy?"

"Of course not! And would you be so kind not to deffigurate the noble language I have given you?" America rolled his blue eyes and resumed his 'healthy' meal.

"Who brought the chair then?" asked Canbo… Cantu… Candia… someone.

"Who brought the chair then?" asked Austria. The countries all fell silent as no one seemed to be willing to claim ownership of the act. After having witnessed Russia destroys the so-called 'cursed' artifact a dozen times, none ignored how ineffective it was, especially since the northern country always ended up sitting on it. "Someone had to be stupid enough to forget Russia is also country therefore also attends this gathering." Insisted the aristocrat. Seeing no one denounce himself or another he added "Well I guess it's safe to assume England was so tired he didn't notice he was carrying a chair around."

"How can anyone NOT notice they're carrying a bloody chair from England to Korea?" objected the main suspect. His eyes suddenly widened as the shock of the realization hit him "That idiot!"

"Did you figure out who brought it here?" asked his neighbor, Belgium.

"How about we resume the meeting?" quickly suggested the United Kingdom "We haven't gone through much, right Germany?"

"Uh… ja… So, about the global warming." Reminded Ludwig, still unsettled by the gentleman's weird behavior "Korea, as host country, you may go first."

The Korean man stood up "I don't have much to say, daze. Did you know global warming originated from me?" China pinched his nose bridge as he frowned, clearly annoyed by his brother.

"No it didn't!" contradicted America, expressing what was on everyone's mind "I say we create a new superhero that can stitch holes in the atmosphere!" the western nation suggested, dead serious.

"Superheroes originated from me!" informed the asian country

"No they didn't!" denied the hamburger loving nation, opening a debate between the personifications and giving birth to another chattering chaos.

Why? All I want is ONE meeting where we actually do something useful! Can't I have that much?

"Veeeee~ Germany? Why are you crying?"

Hope you liked it!

Credits to Himekouchia for the rape proof rope \(^.^)/

2. England's quest: a spell gone wrong:

English is not my first language, french is, so please forgive the many mistakes you are prone to encounter in this piece of work :P

England took his time packing his papers, making sure he was the only one left in the half destroyed conference room. He started checking every corner, under the table, behind the pale grey curtains until he opened a closet and fell nose to nose with a teenage girl.

She appeared to be around thirteen, fourteen years old or maybe younger because of her smooth pale skin. Her uneven hazelnut brown hair fell on her shoulders, untamed strands giving her a 'wild' look. But her eyes were what stood out the most. On her face rested two big emerald sphere surrounded by long eyelashes.
Her clothes however, were uncoordinated. She wore a man sized pure white T-shirt in which she floated, the sleeves reached her elbows and her red shorts were almost completely concealed under her top.

"Irene, do that once more and I'll turn you into a bloody toad!" warned the Englishman.

"You should have seen your face when they all blamed you, Iggy!" exclaimed the sugar high girl.

"Do not call me Iggy!" ordered the pissed man

"You let America call you that… Is he THAT precious to you?" Irene smirked

The personification's face turned red "N – No! That git could go die for all I care! He's ungrateful, disrespectful, stupid, he lacks common sense, he eats like a pig and can't read the atmosphere!"

"But he's hot," added the teen "good-natured, funny, powerful, joyful, always there for those in need, a hero, helpful, like a younger brother to you, able to stay alive after eating you food, in a great economic, political and military situation and waaaaaaaaaaaay more important to you than you care to admit." The brunette burst in rounds of laughter when the nation's skin turned redder than Spain's tomatoes. He tried stuttering a witty comeback but failed and headed to the door.

The blond man bumped in an invisible wall. He fell backwards and looked up to see a transparent silhouette floating in the air. He narrowed his eyes and managed to make out a young man with glasses, silky wavy hair and a white bear.

"Sorry." Apologized the silhouette

"Who?" asked both England and Kumajiro

"Hey Canada!" the young girl greeted the nation with a hug.

"Oh, right. Canadia." The island nation 'remembered'

"It's Canada." Corrected Irene

"Were you here the whole time?" wondered Arthur

"Yeah… Who is she? How does she know me?" asked America's brother

"Sit down, this will take time to explain." Warned the gentleman.

~Flaaaaaaaashback~

England sighed. This was not his day. He barely escaped getting raped by France only to be ambushed by a crazy Belarusian chasing after her 'brother dear' and suspecting him of hiding said brother. Britain had to once again use every resource he could dispose of to get out of the fairly risky situation. He somehow ended up in Scotland's house. The redhead was absent, attending an 'essential meeting (with a glass) in a pub'. Arthur took the opportunity to rummage through his brother's spell book collection which never failed to amaze him. His attention was drawn to a very particular book.

It looked new which was very uncommon for magic books, the metal grey cover was outlined by sky blue straps that seemed to be emitting light. The nonexistent title pushed the United Kingdom to open the pages. He decided to try the spell on the first page.

The nation drew a pentagon inscribed in a circle on which few words were to be written, words who made absolutely no sense in the island's head: "Yaoi, pairings, lemon…"

Blinding light suddenly flashed in the Scotsman's house, blades of wind made it their purpose to destroy whatever was on their way. The man couldn't move or breath until the mini storm calmed down. Through the thick fog, Arthur could see a human shape. Oh great. I summoned Russia again, was his first thought but he quickly noticed how smaller the body was and how missing the bloody iron pipe was.

"Who?" he asked

"Dude, I'm not Canada. Don't go stealing Kumajiro's lines." Stated the teen "My name's Irene and I believe your spell went haywire and brought me here like in all those fan fi – " the girl looked on the floor and broke in a grin as she read the words "Do you have any idea what these mean?"

"Unfortunately, I don't" admitted the blond

"I highly suggest things stay that way." Irene said

"What are you doing here?" questioned the nation

"Waiting for you to bring me back home… though I've never actually read any fan fiction where you manage to send a fan girl back… I sure hope it's 'cause the author was too lazy to finish writing the story." The brunette answered

"Fan fi – author – What? I-I'm afraid I can't follow."

"I come from another world where you nations are anime characters." The girl resumed.

"Then shouldn't you be panicking right now?" pointed out Arthur

"Panicked? Hell no! I get to stalk all of you guys while you kill yourself searching for a counter spell! This is every fan girl's dream! Hey, how do I get to Russia's house? Or Norway's?" blurted out the over excited teenager.

"You are not going anywhere young lady." Ordered the older man " I absolutely cannot let you wander around, you are under my responsibility!"

"What?" complained Irene "You're kidding me! You don't seriously expect me to stay in this house while you find the freakin' spell! It's no different from a life sentence in prison!"

"I can't do anything in this house, it's my brother's. First we'll go to my place, then we'll negotiate." Suggested Arthur

"Fine." Agreed the fan girl.

"I'm not sure I want to know what is happening here and I seriously hope I misunderstood what you just said Artie." Said the Scottish man who had just appeared in the doorway "It's never a good thing when you use my spell books."

~End of flaaaaaaaashback~

"… And that is why I'm, forced to babysit a fourteen year old hyper teen." Concluded England

"… And that is why I haven't eaten real food for the past twenty hours." Irene finished "No wonder America's so messed up, I bet it's a side effect from the inedible stuff Arthur makes. You're lucky to have been brought up by France, Canada."

"So what do you expect me to do?" asked… the guy with the hair curl

"Take me!" pleaded the young girl "I can't stand his motherly personality for another day! Pleeeeease!" Her green eyes teared up and intensely gazed in the canadian's eyes. The northern country took pity on the 'miserable' fangirl and agreed.

"You triple moron!" England scolded "She manipulated you!"

"What do you mean? She was on the verge of cry – Oh." The man's sentence was interrupted by an over joyful girl stealing his car keys and rushing out of the room "Hey! Those are mine!"

"Don't worry," reassured the island nation "she's mischievous but definitely not a thief. You'll probably find her waiting for you in front of your car." Canada nodded and they both headed to the car park where a note and keys had been left behind:

"Hey Canada,

I thought I'd take the opportunity to escape, your car keys are stuck to this note and I can handle myself so don't worry ! Worst case, I'll blame everything on Artie :D

Enjoy life,

Love, Irene"

"Oh shit!" swore the usually shy nation.