HetaliaxReader This is War Chapter Eight

Look I’m writing more stuff! Sorry it has been a long weekend of Hetalia nonsense. Mostly with my dad. By the way never say my dad acts like any country because he’s actually trying to annoy me. A LOT! But he’s a fun guy when he’s messing around so. Anyways! This is what chapter eight of my war series now? Yeah chapter Eight! We’ve come a long way from the prologue! We have countries spilling over with reader-chan, Germany made Kathryn part of him. (One with sadist Germany huehuehue.) And reader-chan got her friends back!!!! Now many people have been asking what I’ve done with the poor Asiatic nations. Well to be honest I was gunna kill them all. H-heh. But I decided not to!!!!!! I SWEAR!

Btw you get the canon appearance of the dreaded torturer. Cousin to innocent Atriant. Ragnoria, the bloody country.

Now this is

HetaliaxReader

This is War

Chapter Eight Rice Brothers in Arms

(e/c) eye color

(h/l) hair length

(h/c) hair color

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Two Years since you were involved in the War (Yep changed since Alfred and Matthew are found )

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“My Dearest _________,

I hope this letter gets to you. I heard that a child made it to a resistance that is saving countries. I hope that you are that child and that you haven’t been taken. They have employed the work of a secret country called Ragnoria here. He’s a ruthless man who is very violent. I may no longer be able to speak because of him. But to see your shining (e/c) eyes and (h/l) (h/c) hair in the wind as I push you on a swing is all I need. They force us to work building weapons for the soldiers and force us to fight in the war. I’ve made friends with two countries here. Their names are Kiku Honda and Yao Wang. They are the countries of China and Japan. Hopefully they will bring this letter to you before I die here for sneaking them out. I love you…..

You Father”
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You were sleeping peacefully in your bed for once. Dreaming about your father. You were on a swing and giggling. It was the first sweet dream you had since you got your best friends Alfred and Matthew back. You actually even slept through most of the night. You were awoken by a crash and you sat up fast in bed, thankfully not flinging the two Italians sleeping on the opposite sides of you. You weren’t doing them they just always ended up falling asleep in your bed because it was the softest in the house. You crept over Feliciano, tiptoed over Antonio who was on the floor and carefully stepped around the three chibi countries sleeping near Antonio. It was really hard to keep them all out of your room. You crept down the stairs and saw something you really did not expect. It was two men! One had black hair and black eyes and his hair was cropped and messy. He was really skinny and was apologizing profusely. The other was a brunette with a ponytail and was staring at his feet. You then noticed Germany behind you with a baseball bat. He must’ve heard the crash too. But the look in his eyes wasn’t of anger. It was of understanding. He dropped the bat and ran over to the two.

“China. Japan. How did you escape ze camps!”

“We were herped by a man called Drew (Last Name). He ret us escape so we courd deriver this retter.”

“M-my father? My father is a-alive?”

The two men nodded then Japan gave you the letter. You tore it open and you scanned the letter over three or four times, slowly sinking to your knees and crying, your tears hitting the ink and letting it run. By this point the other countries had woken up and had seen you crying. You ran from the mansion as fast as you could and went to your secret hiding place. You had found it the first day you had come. It was a hole at the bottom of a huge Oak tree that had enough room for you to have a sleeping bag, snacks, water and books. It was enough for a week. You hid in there and cried. You cried your heart out. Your father was a live and dying. He chose to save two countries than himself. He was always putting others before himself. Little did you know he had escaped. He was behind China and saw you run away, thinking he was dead. He sighed and sat down in a chair whilst the countries went looking for you.

“Vhere did she go!”

“_____ Dudette! Where are you!”

“Spread out guys! The chica has to be around here somewhere!”

“What if we-a don’t find her!!!!!”

“Calm-a down fratello we will-a find her.”

You could hear them loud and clear. But you did not budge. You thought your father was dead and you were silently crying in the hiding spot in the tree. When the tears could no longer fall you quietly sang a song your parents had taught you. You see you were Italian and German. Your father was from Germany and your mother was from Italy. (Didn’t think I’d put GerIta in it? WRONG!) Together they taught you to sing silent night in both languages.

“Stille Nacht! Heil'ge Nacht! Alles schläft; einsam wacht Nur das traute heilige Paar. Holder Knab' im lockigten Haar, Schlafe in himmlischer Ruh!”

Little did you know your father had finally helped in the search and heard you singing. He sat by the tree and listened to you sing in his native tongue. It brought a small smile to his face. He still thought your mother had survived. So he waited for you to sing in Italian. But when he heard it, it was sadder and slower, which actually brought tears to his eyes. He guessed at that point your mother was dead.

“Astro del ciel, Pargol divin, mite Agnello Redentor! Tu di stirpe regale decor, Tu virgineo, mistico fior, luce dona alle genti, pace infondi nei cuor! luce dona alle genti, pace infondi nei cuor!”

He couldn’t take it anymore. He finally opened his mouth, tears rolling down his face as he lifted his head, and sang.

“Stille Nacht! Heil'ge Nacht! Die der Welt Heil gebracht, Aus des Himmels goldenen Höhn, Uns der Gnaden Fülle läßt sehn, Jesum in Menschengestalt!”

(Author’s Note: I know there’s more pieces to the German version than the Italian one. But I tried to fit it together okay? Okay.)

You looked out the hole of the tree to see your father! He was alive! You ran and hugged him, burying your face into his torn army uniform and cried. But they weren’t tears of sorrow. This time they were tears of joy.

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(Author’s Note: Guess whose here! Ragnoria!!!!! If you haven’t read my series before you won’t get the trophies.)

Ragnoria POV

I sat at my desk, looking over my trophies. A red eye, and ear, arms, hands, legs, fingers, organs. My precious treasures of my victims. Some old, some young, some naïve, some tough. I especially treasure the eye and the leg, they were my favorite tortures. That albino man squirmed so much when I cut out his eye. Oh how he screamed. It was……………delightful……..