CheetahMorpher

     What thoughts I have of you tonight, John Locke, as I sit in the silence of my home, the ringing of the residual static crawling away from the TV screen, remote in hand.     For months I've lived your story and the others' around you.  What mystery surrounds them!  It cradles my tired heart and permeates my sad mind, a relief I cherish interminably, a love for me alone.     You, yourself a pawn, in the greatest scheme, do sacrifice the wills of others for the purpose evident in your faith.  What character you have in the face of failure!  Sadness is greater than fear, but your drive usurps eith

America x Reader – Safe and Sound "Mommy, can we go see Santa before we go shopping?" Your son James asked, looking up at you with a pleading look on his face and his bright blue eyes. It was Christmas Eve, and you decided to take James out as you noticed that he was being very quiet and reserved. You ruffled his hair, which was the exact same shade as yours. "Sure, sweetie." You replied with a smile as he clutched your hand tightly as you made your way towards Santa's grotto. You laughed as you saw James waddle in his thick coat with his woollen hat and mittens and snow boots. It was still weird for you to be honest; although he was f

He used to be pretty popular, you would joke that he ruled the world. After the first World War, many people feared him. America held a very bad grudge against him for sinking the Lusitania. Nobody was prepared for what would come many years later, in World War II. It wasn't his fault. After World War I, something inside him snapped, causing him to turn into a second player version of himself. He somehow tried to make a new race, his own race. You knew better, you knew this wasn't the real him. He was broken from the first war. Now he walks the streets, watching all the other nations laugh with their allies. Italy hasn't talked much with him