5024 V.S 1673 Ch. 35024 V.S 1673 Ch. 3 by DredPirateBones
Chapter 3. What's Up With Ivan
“I should have known it was you, poppet,” Arthur said as he turned his gaze from the man before him to the woman in the cloak. He had been with Vladimir just a moment ago, he was sure of it, but then a yellow summoning circle appeared underneath him. Now imagine his delight when he found that not only was he no longer comfortable drunk but he was also in a strange dark room. She threw her head back and laughed, consequently knocking the hood off her head. Long brown hair spilled over her shoulders and when she looked back at Arthur, he was met with familiar green eyes.
She stood up and brushed the salt off of her hands.
“It’s good to see you again…Captain.” Arthur’s eye narrowed, scrutinizing Elizabeta. Her face looked just as young as when he had last seen her, which, if the fashion the young man was wearing was current, shouldn’t have been possible.
Arthur’s hand shot out and grabbed a
5024 V.S 1673 Ch. 25024 V.S 1673 Ch. 2 by DredPirateBones
Chapter 2. Just Found The Rum
Somewhere on the Caribbean Sea, 1673.
Now that Arthur had bought the glass globe off of Vladimir the British pirate could tell that he was itching to play with it. Vladimir hated the risk of lowering the price of something on account that he had played with and somehow damaged it. Being that the two pirate lords were friends, or at least on good terms, it opened up the unique opportunity to flat out ask Arthur to let him play around with the globe. Now, the two of them where hunched over one of the many tables in Vladimir’s storage, doing just that.
Arthur had figured out that if you stroke the lion’s back with the tip of your finger, the glass beast would fill with flames, the tips of which sprang from its great mane and the hair on the end of its tail. A single stroke along the underside of its chin and the lion would come to life and play with the globe—batting it around or chasing after it like a ball of string—when Vladi
5024 V.S 1673 Ch. 15024 V.S 1673 Ch. 1 by DredPirateBones
Chapter 1. We're Not That Friendly
Somewhere on the Caribbean Sea, 1673.
His worn leather boots sounded out and echoed around him as he descended into the hull of the Blood Moon, the pirate ship known for massacres that made the normal port raids look like parades with an ungodly amount of pink paint. It was also the ship of one of Arthur Kirkland’s contacts. They were on good terms; which was more than he could say for the other pirate lords, but they only stayed that way because they both practiced magic. Vladimir used blood to give his magic an extra boost, hence the massacres and the origin of the ship’s name. Arthur found that magic based off of one’s feelings and emotions weren’t always the most potent but it was the most reliable.
Arthur always hated Vladimir’s need for flare, it got rather irritating, but this wasn’t his ship so he had no right to complain, unfortunately.
The hallway, however short it was, had been put un
The Unmasked Truth (USUK)‘This is it’ Arthur thought as he made his way into auditorium behind his classmates, a sly grin forming on his face. ‘Alfred will finally pay for all that he’s done to me.’The Unmasked Truth (USUK) by youbigface1
To Arthur, Alfred was nothing more than a meddlesome student, tormenting and mocking Arthur any chance he got. This had gone on for years; ever since Arthur moved from his beloved home in England across the Atlantic Ocean to America, Alfred decided he would spend every possible second of his high school career harassing Arthur until the English boy was red-faced and shaking with immutable anger.
Yesterday had been the last straw. Arthur was in the hallway retrieving books from his locker and about to head over to World History class when Alfred found him. “YO Artie! What’s up, dude?”
Arthur cringed at the crass voice assaulting his ears, desperately wishing to escape this interaction and arrive to class without incident. But alas, it was impossible to get away from Al
Don't Mess with the British EmpireIt was during the Imperial century when England had begun to learn many things about himself. It wasn't anything to do with his own country but merely his own self, who he was as a person, what he wanted to be, and what he wanted to gain. After the victory over Napoleon England was left with no serious international rival, of course Russia had always been considered some sort of threat to him, but on the sea, England was unchallenged. England had been standing tall on the steamship that powered onwards across the choppy seas that lay endlessly before him, his seas that he had policed with his supreme power.Don't Mess with the British Empire by jillyred
Ten million square miles of territory making the British Empire the largest by far, it made him feel big, unstoppable, and invincible. England had found himself grinning and scowling out at the vast seas around him each time he had set sail on a voyage out into the seas he had claimed as his own.
A bittersweet smile of power and yet an overbearing loss that consumed his heart during
APH - USUK: Oh, Who Would Ever Want to Be King[February 6th, 1952]APH - USUK: Oh, Who Would Ever Want to Be King by YecatsCullenLOTR
"He's dead, America."
The American nation turned around abruptly in the British estate, jumping up from the couch as he heard his lover's voice.
England leant there, against the doorway of the study, in a sopping wet coat, dripping onto the carpet. America flinched at the Brit's paler-than-normal skin, and his shaking body.
"Jeez, Iggy, get out of that coat! It's freezing out there!"
England didn't move, didn't even chastise the other for the nickname as America quickly stripped him off the clothes, didn't even pay attention to the chattering of his own teeth. America himself did not want to remember the words the older nation had spoken in a deadpan as he entered.
"England. Hey, England." No answer. Just a blank stare, and a cold shaking that was startlingly familiar to America.
"ENGLAND!" That snapped him out of it. The older nation flinched slightly, before turning a more accustomed glare on the American. "What, you git?" "You kinda spaced out there, babe."
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