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WARNING: HAS SOME SWEARING, IF YOU DON'T LIKE IT, DON'T READ, IT'S NOT ROCKET SCIENCE. DIFFERENT ENDS IN DESC.

You ran as fast as your short legs would take you. In one hand, you clenched onto your stuffed cat desperately, in the other hand, you cupped the slash on your cheek that bled persistently. Tears stained your face, but you had no time to wipe your eyes.
Not far behind your drunken dad chased you. At the age of four you shouldn't have been able to tell he was drunk, but you had seen it far too many times not to know. The mark on your cheek began to stink, bringing more tears to your eyes. It had been your father who did it, throwing an empty beer bottle your way, which smashed on impact.
"Come back here you little bitch!" He shouted, his voice slurred and furious. He sounded close.
Crying out in fear, you picked up the pace, despite your lungs screaming for oxygen. Failing to watch where you were going, you ran into something hard. Falling backwards, you dropped your cat plush and removed your hand from your cheek to support yourself as you stood back up.
Glancing upwards, you saw a blond haired man with emerald eyes that shone brightly. Above them where ridiculously large eyebrows. Had it been any other situation, you knew you would have laughed.
Behind him were several other men, all of them staring at you curiously.
"Are you alright, love?" He asked, with a thick British accent. You were about to reply when you heard your fathers approaching footsteps. You hid behind the English man, fearfully clutching his leg. Letting out a whimper, you nuzzled into him.
The man gasped in surprise, but turned serious when he saw what had caused your actions. He glared up at your dad, as did the other men.
"(name), get here now." Your dad growled, clenching his teeth. You started shaking, squeezing your eyes shut tight.
"I don't think she wants to." The English man said firmly, putting a protective arm around you.
Your dad stepped forward, with a threatening expression, and you whimpered once again.
"It's-a okay bella!" An Italian man with ginger hair and amber eyes kneeled down beside you, a cheery tone to match the smile gracing his face. He wrapped his arms around you in a warm hug as the other men headed forward to deal with your father.
A large man with platinum hair smiled, but had a dark aura around him. "I think you should be going now, da?" He cracked his knuckles.
"Fuckin' bitch, who needs you anyway?" Your dad trudged away, and the men all turned back to you.
"Do not listen to that man, aru." A Chinese man with a long dark brown pony tail told you, comfortingly as the Italian released you.
"Yeah, what a jerk!" An american exclaimed, frowning, angered blue eyes behind his glasses. He had light brown hair and a gravity defying cowlick.
"He will not come back sunflower. Okay, da?" The Russian mans dark aura was gone, and you now found kindness in his lilac eyes. You nodded, and another man crouched down to your height.
He had shoulder length blond hair, and piercing blue eyes. He cupped your cheek and inspected your wound. "How did zis happen, ma cherie?" He asked with a thick french accent.
"M-my dad threw a bottle at me and it smashed..." You whispered tearfully.
"You poor thing." The Chinese man sympathized.
The Englishman knelt beside you. "He did this?" He scowled before mumbling, "Bloody wanker..." under his breath, but you didn't think you were supposed to hear that bit.
"Ve should take her back to zhe vorld conference room and decide vhat we should do." A muscular German man said. He had slicked back blond hair and blue eyes.
"Hai, but first we shourd treat her wound." A Japanese man with short black hair and brown eyes put in, to everyone's agreement.
After your wound was cleaned, and a plaster was covering it, you were taken to a place they called the world conference room. By now you'd learnt everyone's name.
"Oh, here. Ze awesome me found it." Gilbert, the self proclaimed Prussian with silvery hair and red eyes handed you your cat plush.
Gently, you took it from him, squeezing it tightly. "Thank you," You whispered as everyone took their seats, pulling up an extra one for you.
"So, do you have a home?" Arthur asked, and you nodded saddly.
"I-I don't like it their." You admitted, tears pricking the corners of your eyes.
"We won't send you back their, chica. You can come live with me!" Antonio reassured you, but grinned, as if knowing this would cause an uproar.
"She-a will come-a live with me, you tomato bastard!" Lovino yelled, making Antonio laugh sheepishly.
"Perhaps she could come with me?" Matthew suggested quietly.
"THE HERO SHOULD TAKE HER!" Alfred piped up.
"Nobody notices me.."
"You can't raise a child! I'll raise her to be a proper lady." Arthur shouted.
"No, no, no, 'ave you not seen ze way ze last child you raised turned out?" Francis gestured to an offended Alfred.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Alfred and Arthur said simultaneously.
"I can do it better than you anyway, bloody frog!"
Russia's dark aura returned. "I will take sunflower home, da."
"Aiya! I'm the best to raise a child. I have more experience."
"I vill make her even more awesome, but not as awesome as me."
"PASTAAA!"
"EVERYBODY SHUT UP!" Germany's voice was so loud the room was shaking. Everyone fell silent.
"Now, ve vill let (name) decide who she vill go vith." He ordered, looking your way. "(Name), who vould you like to go with?"
You scanned the room, looking at everyone's hopeful faces.
"I choose..."