APH-Fan-fictions

"Pervert!" "Fag!" "Rapist!" Francis Bonnefoy grit his teeth, using all his will power to keep from turning around and giving those bastards a piece of his mind. Sure, Francis was a litte.....Overpassionate, but did that give them the right to call him a rapist? No, it most certainly did not! He didn't bother correcting them anymore, though. He just learned to grin and bear it, for there was nothing else he could do. It's not like his teachers gave two shits either way, and his parents.........Well, his relationship with them wasn't the pleasent of most, and he had a feeling going to them for his personal problems would only make them wors

You smiled contently. You were leaning against a tall tree enjoying its shade, and reading your favorite book. It was lunch time at your high school and you were taking advantage of your alone time. You weren’t unsocial or anything, you just didn’t really like to be surrounded by people 24/7. You had a few friends and they understood your need for solitude at times. “Excuse me,” a voice said in front of you. Startled, you looked up. Standing before you was Alfred F. Jones. He was probably one of the loudest boys you had ever met. He was incredibly popular; a self-proclaimed hero who always wore a grin and looked like

Chibi!RusCan: “I wanna touch the moon~!” ------------------------------------------ This is a story of two little boys; one Russian and one Canadian. The Canadian was a dreamer. The Russian was a realist, and quite strong for his small size. The Canadian was always one to never be noticed, he was sick of it. There wasn’t much he could do, being so tiny, but he had big hopes. He wanted to do something that no one would forget him for.  No one had noticed if he left, so he just did. He went for a journey, it was a long one. He wasn’t sure where he was going either, he didn’t care. He tried to think what he wante

Canada shifted in his seat for the fourth time in that minute.  He was horribly uncomfortable - even more so than whenever he sat as an entity within a group of people.  He's always wanted to be noticed, but being stared down was just unnerving.  He gripped at the sleeves of his red sweatshirt.  What was with that look? ----- The word "confused" didn't really cover exactly how you felt.  America was seated across from you in the world meeting room, but he was acting so strangely.  When you greeted him boisterously, as you usually do, he only mumbled a polite reply.  He usually couldn't shut up until after the meeting was started, but here h