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Your POV:
You woke up the next morning. You didn’t open your eyes, because it was usually at this time that people would come to take your hard earned stuff. Then you remembered that England saved you, and you opened your eyes. You looked through the window on the wall and saw that the sky was a beautiful shade of blue and there were no clouds to be seen. You could hear the birds chirp in the trees below, and the sounds of the incoming traffic going by. This morning was perfect, until you smelt something burning. You tried to get up and were surprised that you had the strength to get off the “couch” and stand up. Your legs were wobbly, and it was hard to keep your balance, but you started to walk towards the smell, using the walls and nearby objects to help you from falling. You looked into the small kitchen, and saw England take a tray of some charred “things” and place them onto a glass plate. You saw him look up at you and smile.
“Good morning, (y/n). Would you like a scone?” he asked.
“What’s a scone?” you asked. You hoped that scones weren’t the black rocks he made. Although you haven’t eaten any actual food and mostly got your meals from trash cans, you knew when things were not edible. And by the looks of them, those rocks were NOT edible. England looked slightly offended, but then remembered he found you in the trash, so you probably never had his food. He pointed to the charred rocks.
“These are scones. Back in my home, these are tasty delicacies. Though I am still experimenting on the perfect batter and cook time.” He answered. He took the plate and offered you one. You were about to take one, when the door opened and America came inside.
“Sorry to barge in, bros. But there is a breakfast buffet downstairs in the meeting room. You guys better come down, its first come first serve!” he explained. He then saw you take a scone, and he came over and slapped it out of your hand.
“Dude, don’t let Iggy here poison you with his “cooking”. Come with me and I’ll show you some real food.” He said, as he picked you up, over his shoulder, and ran out of the room. England started to follow you and looked really mad, calling America some names that you didn’t understand. We went down the stairs and into a huge, fancy room. There was a large table in the center of the room, and it was covered in beautiful, gourmet food. He set you down, and gave you a plate.
“Take whatever you want. There’s plenty for everyone!” he exclaimed before taking a plate for himself and cutting in front of France, who was waiting patiently in line. You tried to walk to the end of the line, but your legs gave out under you. You would have fallen if it weren’t for the blonde man in front of you. He caught you in one arm, while holding a white bear in his other. You recognized him as Canada.
“Maple, are you okay?!” he asked you.
“Sorry, I’m just still pretty weak from the last three days.” You answered.
“What happened three days ago?”
“That’s when I started getting sick, and that was when some guys beat me up so bad that I couldn’t move. Yesterday was the first time in nearly three weeks that I have gotten any food.”
“Oh, my! You poor girl! Here, I will get you some food. You sit down at one of the tables.”
You nod and start to half walk, half drag yourself to one of the fancy tables. You sat on a comfy wooden chair, right across from three men. You recognize them as Germany, Italy, and Japan. There were also two new men, one that looked very much like Italy, and another that had a tomato and some brown, stick looking food.
“Do you mind if I sit here?” you asked them.
“No, we don’t-a mind.” said the Italy look-a-like.
“Oh, this is my-brother, Romano. The other-a man is Spain. This is-a the girl that I was-a telling you about!” Italy explained to you.
“Ciao.” said Romano in a slightly upset, monotone voice.
“Hola, chica! Would you like a churro?” asked Spain. He handed you the brown thing in his hand. It smelled sweet and felt flakey. You took a bite, and tasted the sweetness. You thought the food here just kept getting better and better. You ate it pretty quickly, and Spain chuckled at this, smiling and ruffling your hair.
“Es bueno, no?” he asked you. You looked up at him confusingly. You didn’t understand his language.
“Oh, sorry. I meant its good, no?” he asked again in English. You understood and nodded. Just then, Canada came back with two plates full of food. He sat down beside you and handed you your plate. His plate had a stack of about five thin, tan things and a puddle of amber, thick liquid. Another man sat down. He had white, silvery hair and bright, red eyes. He sat in between Italy and Germany. There was a bright, yellow bird atop his head, nesting in his hair.
“Zhe awesome me iz here!” the white haired man exclaimed. His plate was filled with sausage, steaming hot with some yellow dip of some sort on the side.
“Hey, who iz zhe mädchen?” asked the white haired man.
“”Zhis iz (y/n). (y/n), zhis iz Prussia, mein bruder. She iz zhe vone zhat England found outside.” Germany explained.
The little bird looked at you, flew over, and landed in your (h/c) hair.
“Kesesese! Gilbird likes you, eh.” said Prussia as Gilbird started chirping.
You stared at your own food. There was an apple, some sausage, and a few of what Canada was having.
“Canada, what are these?” you asked him as you pointed to the unknown food.
“Oh, those are pancakes. Where I come from, these are really famous.” he answered.
“Oh.”
You saw Canada take a fork and knife, using them to cut up the pancakes and dunk them in the liquid that came out of a bottle he had in his pocket. You read the bottle and found out it is called syrup. You did the same, taking one of the cut up bits and putting it in your mouth. You stared at it wide eyed. You had the sausage and the fruit. ‘This is the best food I have ever had in my whole entire life!’ you thought to yourself. You finished you food before the others, and they stared at you in disbelief. You started to blush.
“So chica, did you want to come to the world meeting with us?” asked Spain.
“World meeting?” you asked.
“Si! The world meeting is where we all come here and talk about how we can make the world a better place. Though, it doesn’t always go very well…”
“Ya…” everyone says.
“Hey, how old are you, (y/n)?” asked Canada.
“Twelve” you reply.
“What?! You’re only twelve? And you’ve been living all by yourself?” asked America as he finally filled his plate, or, plates.
“Ya, I guess.”
“How did you survive?”
“Well, I go by a few rules. Rule 1: When you find food, eat it then and there, or else people will beat it out of you. Rule 2:  Sleep under stuff so no one can find you while you sleep. Rule 3: Stay clear of Main Street. That’s where the BBB Gang lives. They are a gang of homeless guys that have jobs and get money, but don’t want to buy a house or have responsibility. They beat up everyone else and steal whatever they have. Food, items, even the clothing they are wearing, all taken away. BBB stands for Big, Bad, and Black as night. You live by those rules, you get by just fine.  Though the BBB has been coming to the alley where I live. Since I am a child, if I beg for stuff, I can get more than an adult. They use me for extra money and food. That’s why England found me in the trash. They beat me up so badly that I couldn’t move for three days. No one saw me. I couldn’t get food. It was the worst.” you reply sadly.
A few people started tearing up. Suddenly, Italy, America, and Spain tackled you and all tried to hug you. Romano, Germany, and Canada tried to get them off of you. Once they all sat back down, a man and girl came toward you.
“Ve heard your story, and ve feel awful. But I vas vondering if you had any ozher clozing?” asked the girl. She had short, blonde hair and bright teal eyes.
“No, I don’t.” you reply back.
“May you come vith me?”
“Oh, sure.”
She took your hand and walked out of the room. She and the man both walked into another room and closed the door.
“I brought a couple of ozher dresses vith me, and it looks like you are zhe same size as I am. Did you vant to pick vone out for yourself?” the girl asked you while showing a few of her own. ‘They’re beautiful!’ you thought to yourself as you saw the brightly colored dresses.
“I zhink zhis vone vill look nice on you.” she said while holding a (f/c) dress.
“Really? For me?” you asked.
“Ja! Go in zhere und try it on.” she directed you to the “bathroom”.
You walked inside and closed the door. You took off the shirt that England gave you and placed it on one of the bars connected to the wall that held the rough looking blankets. It also looked like she gave you some clean under wear, since you didn’t have any on. You put everything on, and it fit perfectly. You opened the door, where the girl was waiting outside.
“Wow! You look beautiful. Let us show everyvone else.” she said while taking your hand again, the other man coming along. You went back into the ballroom and she brought you over to some other kids. They were playing in the corner of the room. Drawing pads and crayons littered the floor.
“Zhis is (y/n) ve heard about yesterday. (y/n), zhis is Sealand, Wy, Seborga, Molossia, Kugelmugel, und Ladonia. Ve are all micro nations.” the girl explained.
“Hi.” said the children.
“Hi.” you replied.
“Did you want to draw with me, (y/n)?” asked Sealand.
“Sure.” you answered.
He gave you a drawing pad and a couple of colored pencils. For the rest of the morning, you drew with all of the kids, talking and hanging out like you were just a regular person. What you didn’t know was the BBB Gang was looking in through the window, looking at you.
“Our little money-maker is in there, and we need to get her back. Teach her a lesson for thinking she could get away from us.”
Hi everyone! This is chapter 3!. Hope you enjoy! Germany, do the disclaimer!
Germany: You had to interrupt mein training for zhis?
GG1213: Yep. ;)
Germany:*sigh* Fine. Greekgeek1213 does not own anything except the plot. You happy?
GG1213: Yes!
Germany: Good. 50 laps!
GG1213: Aww! *starts to run away with Italy*
Germany: Hey! You can't skip mein training!*starts to run after you*
GG1213: Enjoy! Run, Italy, run!!!
Micro nation characters were form on hetawiki.com
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Next Chapter: Yet to be written.
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England’s POV:
I was walking through an ally using it as a short-cut to get to the meeting place, it being held in America this month. It was abandoned and disgusting there, but it was the fastest way and I was already late. The perfect scones don’t take ten minutes to bake, you know. It was getting late, shadows were growing from every angle and the street lights in the distance were starting to turn on. I was walking past a huge pile of trash (gross!) when I heard a soft moan. I looked around, not seeing anybody, and started to walk again. But before I could take even three steps, I heard another, more painful moan.
“Hey.” A mysterious voice said. It sounded like a young girl voice. I looked at the direction I heard the voice from, and I could barely make out a human shape. It was a girl, lying on the trash pile.
“Kill me.” She said.
“What?” I asked, astonished a little girl would say that.
“Kill me. I can’t move. I’m sick. I have *cough* nowhere to live. You kill me, no one will ever know *cough* and I don’t have to suffer. *cough**cough**wheeze* Please.”
I walked towards her, and from the faint light of the moon, I could make out horrifying cuts and bruises. Some were from long ago, while some were fresh. She was covered in dirt from head to toe. The only thing she had on was a trash bag that went down to her mid-thighs and the draw string was tied around her bleeding chest. Her eyes were a dull (e/c), her eyelids black and blue. Just the look of her made me want to throw up, but I had to help her. I picked her up bridal style and ran towards the meeting place. The meeting was being held at a hotel this year, and we all had a room there. The actual meeting will be held in one of the ballrooms. I ran into the building and up to my room. I set the girl down on the couch and went into the bathroom and started to run a bath.
‘Since she is covered in grime and her cuts need to be washed out, a bath will do the trick’ I thought to myself.
Your POV:
You looked around at the new surroundings. You have never been inside a building before, much less one this fancy. It was hard to stay awake, your head getting dizzy and your eyesight was getting blurry. The man that brought you inside came out of one of the rooms and looked at you with pure pity and hurt. Now that there were lights, he could see you perfectly. You looked worse than when he saw you in the dark. Your cheeks were deep red and you were deathly pale from you fever and cold. Mud and dirt covered you and made most of your cuts and gashes green with infection. Dried and fresh blood covered your arms, legs, face, and chest. Your hair color wasn’t even recognizable anymore because of the trash, blood, and grime. You were so thin, that you literally looked like a skeleton.
The man came over to you and picked you up, taking you over to the room he just left. Inside, there was a chair-like thing that was white and had a lid, a bowl connected to the bright, white wall that had a pipe connected to it, and a huge tub that was being filled with clear liquid. You had never seen these items before in your life. You have been living in that alley since you could remember. Your parents died after they were so poor that they had to steel from a store, and some wacko thought he could stop them with a gun. You were about five then, and since then you have been living on your own. Other people took refuge in the same alley, but they never showed you any kindness. Instead, they abused you, taking what you had and beating you up until you blacked out from the pain and loss of blood. You tried to scrounge for food and other necessities by begging on the side of the nearest busy street, but the other men that lived near you would always beet everything out of you. Food, water, money, even clothes were taken away from you. Today, they had the brilliant idea of beating you up so bad you couldn’t move and threw you into the trash pile, where a truck would come and collect you, crushing you along with the trash until you were nothing more than a mushed up corpse.
The man took off your only clothing and set you in the tub. Instantly, the clear, sparkling liquid (you concluded that it was fresh water) turned a mix of red and deep brown. The man then drained the tub and started another one. He rubbed a pink colored cube on you, and bubbles started forming, taking the dirt off until you could actually see your pale skin. He then squirted some blue liquid onto your head and massaged it. More bubbles formed, making your hair turn white. He then took a small bucket and filled it up with the water, and poured it over your head. The bubbles came off, and you could finally see your (h/l) (h/c) hair. He repeated the process until all of the dirt and blood was gone. He then took a rough looking blanket and started to rub you with it until you were dry. He covered you with the blanket and carried you into the other room, where he set you down on the weird looking bed again. He walked into a corner and opened case filled with clothing and other items. He closed it and walked up to you, taking the blanket off and putting a long shirt onto you. He then took the blanket and put it back in the white room, coming back with a soft looking blanket instead. He put the blanket on you and set a plush cube behind your newly cleaned head. Once he looked at you with a satisfied look on his face, he then took out some sort of technology and put it up to his ear.
“Hello? Germany? I don’t think I can make the meeting. No, I am not sick, but I found this girl out in an alley outside and took her in for some treatment. She looked like she was about to die. She is trying to sleep on the couch right now. *pause* Yes, Italy, you all can come up. But be quiet, especially you, America! (pause) Yes, room 237 on the third floor to the left. Thank you, god bye.”
After he talked to the contraption, he closed it and put it back into his shirt pocket.
“Are you hungry?” asked the man.
“Very.” You replied before another coughing fit hit you.
He nodded and walked into another room that to you looked like the kitchen to a restaurant. You know, because once, you lived in the back of one, eating whatever you could from the trash bin. You didn’t stay long, though, before they told you to scram and kicked you out. The one the man walked into was smaller, with no cooks or a screaming manager telling his employees to step on it and to cook faster. He took out a can of some sort and poured its contents into a small bowl that was made of metal and had a handle. He then placed it onto a table like thing and turned a dial. The spot he placed the bowl turned red. The smell of the food overwhelmed you, and soon you noticed some drool dripping from the sides of your mouth. After about ten minutes, he took the bowl and poured the contents into another bowl, putting a spoon into it. He turned the dial above the black table thing again, and the red spot faded away. He walked up to you and handed you the bowl.
“You look confused. It’s soup. Do you like soup?” he asked you.
“I have never had soup before. How do I eat it?” you asked him.
“You never had soup before?! Well, you take the spoon, put it into the soup, and then put it into your mouth.” He answered.
You took the spoon, filled it with the golden liquid, and put it into your mouth. Just then, your eyes lit up. ‘This is the best thing I have ever had!’ you thought to yourself as you repeated the instructions again and again, until the bowl was completely empty. You felt much better; your stomach being so full that you thought it grew from its first miniscule size. You felt all warm inside from the hotness of the soup.
The man looked down, and seeing that you finished it all, took the bowl put it into another large bowl looking thing with the pipes pouring water into the empty bowl. He walked back and sat on the comfy bed thing.
“I cannot believe I did not ask you sooner, but what is your name?”
You thought the word over. You have never been assigned a ‘name’ before.
“What’s a ‘name’?” you asked, looking confused.
“Oh, a name is something people call you. My name is England, or Arthur, Arthur Kirkland. You may call me either.”
“Oh, I think my parents called me (f/n), but I faintly remember it. It was so long ago.” You replied, looking down, remembering your parents before their death.
“Where are your parents?” England asked.
“They were murdered in front of my very eyes from stealing some bread. Some guy killed them with a gun. We didn’t have any money. We never lived like the other families.” You said.
Since you have lived on the streets and had to be strong both mentally and physically, you never cried. But England had saved you. He had the heart to help you and take you in, dress you, and feed you without even asking anything in return. He didn’t hurt you, or spit at you, or call you all those horrible words that you never knew the meanings to. You felt like you could trust him. Talking about your parents in front of him, and not even having to protect yourself from anything, you started to cry. You cried for the first time in years. Tears fell from your eyes, making your cheeks glisten from the salty water. You had the strength to sit up and hold onto his arm. England wrapped an arm around you, and held you close. He petted your now soft hair, softly shushing you.
“There, there love. Shh. Shh.” He said.
Just then, the door swung open, a bunch of other men came inside.
For this fan fiction, I will be writing the disclaimer down here instead of in the actual text. So, England, do the disclaimer!
England: Greekgeek1213 does not own Hetalia, you, or anything except for the plot. And why is the meeting in America?! It should have been in my country!
GG1213: Because I live in America and know more about it. Also, if you were in England, then you would have fed our reader scones instead of soup and made her even more sick, and even closer to death!
England: Hey, my scones are not that bad!
GG1213: While I explain to Iggy here that his scones ARE that bad, enjoy reading!
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Your POV:
You were crying in England’s arms, when the door swung open and a bunch of men walked inside.
“Have no fear, the hero is here!!!”
“America! You have to be quiet for zhe mädchen. She iz sick, und needs to rest.”
“Look at the-a bambina! She is-a so cute, ve~!”  
“She is a little sunflower, да?”
“Hai, she is kawaii.”
“Shì de, she is, aru.”
“It is so unfair zhat Angleterre ‘as ‘er and I don’t.”
“Hey, I’m not a chair!”
“Who are you?”
“I’m Canada…”
You stared at the unknown men. They all sounded different. You thought that they were from different places, but you couldn’t identify where they were from because you were never educated about the world around you.  Most of them looked like they were wearing military uniforms. The others looked like they were wearing casual clothing. They all looked wealthy.
“Shh! Keep it down. Sorry about that, love. These are the people I work with. From right to left, it’s America, Germany, Italy, Russia, Japan, China, France, and…um…, who are you?” England asked the man to the very left.
“I’m Canada…” he replied sadly, as if he was asked that question way too many times before.
“Right, Canada. Sorry about that.” England apologized.
Everyone starred at you. You could feel their gazes looking at all of the bruises and cuts that littered your skin. They looked at how pale your skin was and how sick you looked. Your eyes were red and puffy from crying. All of their mouths turned from smiles to sad frowns. You don’t know why, but you felt some sort of power emanating from them, as if they were all something more than just regular men. With all of their eyes on you, you felt sort of nervous. Just then, your arms gave out from hanging onto England for so long, and you almost fell onto the floor. England caught you just in time.
“I think you need to rest now, love. Do you want me to tell you a bed time story?” England asked.
“A bed time story? What’s a bed time story?” you asked England.
“Dude, how can you not know what a bed time story is? Iggy told them to me all the time back when I was a kid. It’s a story that you tell when it’s bed time. It helps you go to sleep.” Exclaimed America
“Oh. Nobody told me one of those. Most days, I just get knocked out from the beatings the other people in the alley way I live in give me. Other days I am just too exhausted from running away from people trying to either steel from me or beat me up. That’s how I get my sleep.” you explain.
“OMG, that’s so sad!” said America as he comes your way and gives you a very forceful hug. Because you were so thin and bony, the hug hurt you and made your bruises ache. But you have seen other people do this to each other when they are happy or when they want to make others happy, so you didn’t mind. America started to bawl on you, and England had to pry him off of you.
“Come on, now. It is getting late. We better get some sleep for the next G8, er, 9 meeting tomorrow.” said England, trying to shoo the other men away and out of the door.
“Hey, what about the girl? She can’t stay here alone. Can she come with us?” asked America before he could be shoved out of the room.
“Yes, America. She will come with us to the meeting. She will be all right. Now, get out of my room!” England said before finally closing the door, sliding down the door on his back until he reached the floor, sighing in exhausted victory. He then got up, and sat back down onto the couch.
“Now, would you like me to tell you a sto-“England started to say before he realized that you were already asleep. England smiled, kissed your forehead, and whispered in your ear ‘Good night, (y/n).’
Hi! This is Chapter Two! America, do the disclaimer!
America: Alright, dude! :D. Greekgeek1213 does not own Hetalia or anything except the plot.
GG1213: High five!
*high fives*
Here are the translations:
Mädchen: Girl in German
Bambina: Child in Italian
да: Da or yes in Russian
Hai: Yes in Japanese
Kawaii: Cute in Japanese
Shì de: Yes in Chinese
Angleterre: England in French
All of the translations are from Google Translate
Enjoy reading!
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“…Ludwig.” You finished your sentence.
Everyone came over and congratulated you two. Germany looked like he was about to faint from the news, but you squeezed his hand in comfort.
“You’re going to make a great father. I love you so much” you say as you placed your lips on his.
(Time skip to about nine months)
You and Germany, who married you soon after he heard the news about you being pregnant, were outside on the lawn of his house. You saw your husband giving orders and training Italy and Japan, who were jogging laps. After a while, Germany allowed Italy and Japan to take a break. You spread out a picnic blanket and placed a basket filled with food in the center. You passed paper plates to everyone and started to fill your plate with the delicious food that everyone brought. There was pizza that was still warm made by Italy, rice balls with face designs on them made by Japan with Italy’s help, and some German sausage made by your husband. There was also fruit salad, some bread rolls, and a pitcher of ice-cold lemonade. It was a beautiful day, with the sky as blue as Germany’s eyes and no clouds in sight. The birds were chirping in the nearby trees. The sunlight went through Germany’s hair, making it glow and made his eyes sparkle. You thought it made him more handsome. You had brought a radio and had turned it on while they were training. Now it had your favorite song; the song that you and Germany danced to when you got married. You placed your hand on your stomach, feeling the soft kicks of your unborn child. You smiled, took Germany’s hand, and placed it where yours had been. He smiled, pulling you closer to him and held you close.
You were about to take the last bite of your food, when a sharp pain came from your stomach. You also felt wetness in between your legs.
“Liebe (1), vhat’s wrong?” asked Germany, his face formed a puzzled and worried expression.
“The baby…It’s coming now.” You say back, clutching your stomach as another hard kick came from your baby.
With the help of Japan and Italy, Germany got everything picked up and carried you bridal style to his car not very far away from where you had eaten. He placed you in the passenger’s seat and started the car. He pulled out of the driveway and quickly, but safely, to the hospital.
There, Italy and Japan sat in the waiting room while Germany had followed you to the room that you started your labor in. He held your hand, you squeezing it so hard that it turned purple. You pushed with all of your strength, the doctors encouraging you to continue.
“Just one more and your child will be born.” said the doctor.
You pushed once more, and you could hear the wailing of your child. Exhausted, you laid back onto the hospital bed.
“Congratulations! You have a healthy baby boy.” said the doctor, handing you your new son. He was sleeping now, but you could see that he had blonde hair like Germany’s and your face. Germany sat next to you, carrying you and lacing you on his lap, his arms around yours.
“He’s beautiful. Thank you for giving me a gorgeous son.” You tell your husband, facing him and placing your lips on his. Just then, you saw your baby’s eyes open. They were the most beautiful shade of blue you have ever seen. He looked at you, then to Germany. Germany took the baby off your hands and placed him in his. Your baby held out his hand, shaking from the effort. Germany held out his finger, and your sons hand grabbed it. Germany kissed his forehead, while the baby fell back to sleep. Italy and Japan both came in at that point, silently so that they didn’t wake the baby. They both got to hold him, giving compliments to both you and the baby.
The doctor told you that you could go home now, so everyone got back into the car, you placing your son in a car seat in the back. Once back at the house, you sat on a rocking chair outside on the porch, rocking your baby while humming a song your own mother hummed to you. Germany came out and brought his own chair, placing it right next to yours.
“He’s so cute when he’s asleep. Just like you.” You whisper.
“Hmm, I zhink he looks like you. Danke (2) for giving me a vundebar (3) son.” Germany replied.
For the rest of the day, everyone stayed outside, Germany’s three dogs running around in the front yard, and your baby in your arms.
1: Love in German
2: Thank you in German
3: Wonderful in German
I do not own Hetalia or anything else except for the plot and story line. Enjoy!
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Hetalia x Pregnant! Reader-Germany Part Two
(Time skip to about five years)
“Vatti (1)! Mutti (2)! Look at how fast I’m going!” said Ben, your now five year old son. He now had a full head of bright blonde hair and deep blue eyes. He looked just like your husband. Instead of his hair being slicked back, it was down and it made it look like Germany when he was a little boy.
Right now, he was running laps again and again, trying to be like Germany and Italy when they are training. Germany had a stop watch and was taking Ben’s time. By the looks of it, it seemed he was proud of his son and his athletic ability. After about ten laps, Ben ran to your husband, out of breath.
“How did I do, Vatti?” asked Ben.
“You did vunderbar (3) mein junge (4).” said Germany, ruffling his hair. He took Ben’s hand and walked back to the house. You were outside, reading a book on the rocking chair. You looked up to see Ben waving his hand, a huge grin on his face. Germany came up to you and placed his lips onto yours. You quickly went inside and filled a few glasses with water, then went back out and handed your sweaty boys the refreshing liquid they needed.
“Did you see me? Did you see me, Mutti? I ran really fast! As fast as Onkel (5) Italy!” Ben said excitedly after he sipped some water.
“Yes you did, Ben! You run just as fast as him. I’m so proud of you.” You say, hugging him and ruffling his hair.
“Vatti, can I train with you and Onkel Italy and Onkel Japan? Please! Then I can be just like you!” Ben pleaded.
At this, Germany blushed. He had never had someone want to be like him before.
“Ja, I don’t see vhy not.” said your husband, with a gleam of proudness in his eyes.
“Why don’t you get a snack, my little Olympian.” You told your son.
“Okay!”
With that he ran inside. You told Germany that there was something you wanted to talk about.
“Vhat is it, Liebe (6)?” asked Germany.
“…I’m pregnant.”
With that said, you walked inside, leaving a dumfounded German outside on the porch, his mouth wide open in utter shock.
1: Father in German
2: Mother in German
3: Wonderful in German
4: My boy in German
5: Uncle in German
6: Love in German
I do not own Hetalia or anything except the plot and story line. Enjoy!
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Your POV:
You walked into the meeting room, where as usual everyone inside was bickering and fighting, no order to be found what so ever. No one even noticed you walk inside. You tried to tap people’s shoulders, bang on the table, even try your best Germany impression. But nothing worked. Finally, you decided to stand on the table and scream at the top of your lungs for everyone to shut up. At this point, everyone stopped what they were doing and stared at you.
“Okay, so I know we have been in a relationship for a while now and I just found this out on the way coming here. This might sound a little weird, but I’m pregnant.”
“With who’s baby? I didn’t know you were in a relationship.” asked one of the maids there who you knew well and worked with every day. At this, your now fiancé walked up to you and held your hand.
“Yep, my baby’s father is…”
Continued in other chapters
I will be putting up more, but so far I only have the ones below. I do not own Hetalia. I don't own anything except the plot and story so far. Enjoy! :)
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“…Kiku” you told your friend and all of the other countries. Everyone walked up to you two and congratulated you on your pregnancy. Japan looked like he was about to faint from the news, but you squeezed his hand in comfort.
“You’re going to be a wonderful father. Thank you for the gift of life.” You tell Japan, placing your lips on his.
(Time skip to nine months)
You and Japan were sitting at his kotatsu (1), enjoying a meal consisting of rice balls, sushi, and traditional Japanese tea. It was a beautiful day, the sun still in the sky. There was a nice breeze, so you decided to open the windows. You were almost done with a rice ball, when you felt a soft kick coming from your unborn child. You smiled, and took your now husband’s hand, and placed it against your stomach. He smiled, and then placed his lips onto yours.
“Since zhe baby might be born soon, we should visit zhe tempre and pray for good fortune.” said your husband, who took the plates off of the table and put them away.
“That sounds like a wonderful idea. I’ll go and get ready” you said, walking to your room to get changed into something more presentable.
(Time skip to the temple)
You and Japan arrived at the temple an hour after lunch. You and Japan both wore kimonos (2) to the temple that somewhat matched. You just finished praying for good fortune on the baby, when a sharp pain came from your stomach and you felt wet between your legs.
“Uh, Kiku? Sorry to interrupt you, but my water just broke.” You told your husband, trying to be calm about it because you were still inside the temple.
“Watashi, idaina kamigami no iiwake (3). Ret us go.” He apologized as he carried you bridal style to his car and started driving to the hospital.
(Time skip to the hospital)
You were placed onto a hospital bed, starting your labor process of pushing with all of your strength. You have been doing this for about an hour now.
“One more push should do it, and your baby will be born.” The doctor told you.
You listened to the doctor’s instructions and pushed once more.
Suddenly, you heard not only one, but three newborn babies crying.
“Congratulations! You have three healthy children, two boys and one girl.” said your doctor, as he handed you your three children, all asleep in your arms.
Japan came and sat on the end of the hospital bed, staring in awe of the babies. Just then, they all woke up at the same time. Your daughter had your eyes and had your husband’s hair. Both the boys looked exactly alike. Both looked just like Japan.
“Zhey are utsukushī (4).” Japan whispered in your ear. Your children fell back to sleep, and you started to doze off too. Just before you fell asleep, you felt your arms become lighter and you felt yourself being carried and placed into a car. You fell asleep in the car, sleeping the whole ride home.
Japan’s POV:
The ride home was very quiet, everyone sleeping behind me. Once we arrived at my house, I carried all of the babies inside, placing them into one crib.
‘I am going to have to get anozer two rater.’ I thought to myself as I went back outside to get (y/n). I carried her inside and into our bed. I slipped under the covers myself. Just then, I felt a pair of arms wrap around my chest from behind.
“Thank you for the most beautiful children.” I heard you say before you went back to sleep. I smiled, took one last look at my new children, and fell asleep as well.
That night, I had the best dream of all. A dream where my family lived happily ever after.

1: a Japanese table that is low to the ground that is usually placed in the living room.
2: a type of Japanese wear that both men and woman wear.
3: “Excuse me, great gods” in Japanese.
4: Beautiful in Japanese
I do not own Hetalia or anything else except the plot and story line. Enjoy!
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That was probably a bad decision to make.

Once you were outside the door, the heavy feeling of fear weighed on your chest again, and you froze for a brief moment.

Clutching the pillow closer, you chewed your lip, shifting your weight from foot to foot, wondering where to go next. Just as you were about to take another step, before you could react, a shadowy figure darted out from another room, and swept you into strong arms, before darting into another room. Yo squeaked, startled, and only yelped once again when you were plopped down onto a soft bed.

You stared up into light blue eyes as a certain Frenchman towered over you. "Mon cher, I apologize for randomly snatching you up like that..." he sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. "It was a little unfair, seeing as how you weren't seeing it coming," he grinned at you again. "I would like to get to know you, though~!" he winked playfully at you. "After all, if my friend and I are going to be keeping you here, we should get to know each other, oui?"

You nodded hesitantly, still holding the Italian flag pillow tightly. "R-Right...I guess so," you answered carefully, now avoiding his gaze. The Frenchman sat next to you, and rested his elbow on his knee, supporting his head with his fist as he watched you struggle to come up with something to say, shyly hiding your face partly behind the pillow.

He found it quite cute - not in a romantic way, but in the way one would find a kitten cute.

And that's exactly what you reminded him of; a kitten. You were so cute and sweet, although you didn't trust easily, and you seemed like you would be a good pillow, or a good cuddler.

But what troubled him the most was that you seemed as though you were never safe. He felt so strongly for you, although he didn't know you well enough as of yet; he wanted to consider you a friend, maybe even as a sister.

He was unsure if he was right, but he was fairly sure that you underwent prolonged abuse, possibly for more than a day.

You mumbled something, causing his to snap out of his daydream. "Hm? Can you please repeat that?" he politely requested, refraining from touching you due to your fear of being touched. You cleared your throat.

"u-uhh...I-I said...um..." you stammered, trying and failing to say what you said, although you were afraid it would not be a very successful conversation starter.

"I-I...um...M-My favorite color is (f/c)?" you finally told him, burying your face into the pillow again, feeling overly sheepish. He chuckled. "That's interesting. What do you like about that color?" he asked gently, urging you to continue the conversation.

"I-I...I don't know...I guess I just find the color nice," you pulled the pillow a little away from your face, but only enough for your eyes to show again. "...What's your favorite color?" you asked in reply, hoping the conversation could carry on for a while.

As you conversed with France for at least twenty minutes or so, you found yourself slowly beginning to loosen up, although, you were still too afraid to tell him of the abuse you went through. It occured to you that not all people were bad; there were some people like Mr. Francis.

Obviously, your father was not like Mr. Francis; he was lazy, and uncaring, he was cruel and beat you as hard as he could. It was that very abuse that had weakened you; made you into someone your mother didn't want you to be, made you into a weak human being, a person who you did not want to be. You wanted strength and courage, something that was just naturally unattainable for someone like you, although it was all you ever dreamed of.

~~~

Italy walked out of the clothing store with his friend, wondering how some people could love shopping so much. It was actually very exhausting, to him, to find clothes that fit right, and would fit to the tastes of the person he was buying for. What made it worse was that the person he was buying for was not with him. Therefore, he knew nothing of her clothing size. So, the best he could do was a small.

Hungary, fortunately, was going to be coming over, too, though! Perhaps she would be of some help to you?

Letting out a tired breath, Feli started toward America's house, hopeful that you will like the clothes, and hopeful that you will be able to trust Hungary.

And, hopefully, you'll finally tell them what really happened.
:iconpastapyro567:
Hello, hello!

I know I haven't updated in a while
I apologize! ;3; 

Business...and a huge fiasco with switching accounts and shit, which I will under no circumstances tell the story of, seeing as how it's extremely boring and stupid. Anyway! I'm also sorry this is so short! But Premium Membership day is almost upon us, therefore, I wanted to get this done! 

So! I own nothing!

part VII: pastapyro567.deviantart.com/ar…
part VIII: You're already here, silly! >w<
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(Two years later)
“Say mutti.” You told Heidi, your now one year old daughter. She had soft, light blue eyes and wavy hair that was the same color as yours was. She looked at you confused. You tried for the longest time to get Heidi to say mutti, the word you wanted her first word to be.
“Say mu-tti” you said slowly. The only reply you got was another look from her.
You sighed. You didn’t know if she was ever going to say anything. It’s been a whole year and she hasn’t said one word. This worried both you and Ludwig. You looked back and remembered that Ben had always been spot on when he was growing up. He said his first word, started walking, and did many other things right when he was supposed to. So far Heidi has been a little slower. She still crawled and hasn’t started to talk.
You looked at the clock on the wall and saw that it was almost time for Ludwig to be back from picking up Ben from school. You were so glad that he liked the second grade. You also loved that he had such a great relationship with Heidi. You thought it was so sweet when he played with her and she would smile and laugh, enjoying his company.
You heard the door knob twist and the front door opened, in coming Ludwig and Ben.
“Vati!” exclaimed Heidi. Your jaw dropped. And what’s more, she used your lap to stand up and walked wobbly to her father, who was as surprised as you were.
“Vati, vati, vati!” she said as she hugged his leg.
“Hey Vati, why are you crying? Are you sad?” asked Ben, staring at his father’s tear stained face.
“Nein, I’m just so happy.” He said as he picked Heidi up and hugged her, Heidi giggling as he did so.
“What did you do today mutti?” Ben asked you.
“Trying to get your sister to say mutti.” You said, defeated. Ben laughed when he heard of your failed attempts, and both Heidi and Ludwig joined in. Soon enough, you were laughing too.
“Mutti!” Heidi exclaimed, pointing at you. With this, you pumped your fists into the air in success.
“YES!” You whooped happily. At that, everyone burst out laughing.
Since many people wanted me to continue this one, here is part three! So our lucky Germany now has a seven year old son and a one year old daughter. Cute little German family. :3
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Your POV:
“Haha (1)! Chichi (2)!” exclaimed your children as came out of their rooms with new kimono’s (3) on, ready for the festival you and Japan were going to take them to.
“You look wonderful, my kodomo (4).” You said, fixing your daughter’s kimono and tying the obi (5).
Your daughter, Sakura, looked just like you, with Japans hair color. She had beautiful (h/l) hair that was now tied back into a bun. Her (e/c) eyes sparkled in the sunlight. She was shorter than her brothers, Yuki and Kauru, who were identical twins that looked exactly like Japan. Your daughter acted like you, while your sons acted like Japan.
You looked out the window, watching the clouds go by. It was a beautiful day, with the sky a brilliant blue and the sun shining. The weather was perfect today. Even the cherry blossoms were in full bloom, the wind making the petals fall just like at your wedding.
(Time skip to the festival)
Once you arrived at the festival, you could smell all the different types of food and could hear laughter and everyone having a great time.
“What do you want to do first?” you asked your children whose eyes were wide from it being their first time to a festival. Your children stayed silent, contemplating on how to answer your question.
“How about we try goldfish scooping? That’s my favorite activity, but I have never been able to catch one. Maybe you can try.” You suggested.
“Hai (6)!” answered your children, as you walked towards the booth.
Once you got there, the man at the booth handed out nets and bowls, and then explained the rules. Once he was finished, he let you and your children catch the fish.
(Time skip to about a minute)
“I caught one!” exclaimed Sakura. The man at the booth took the fish and placed it into a plastic bag full of water.
“Be very gentle of him. Make sure to take good care of him.” He said.
She nodded, then said,” Okay! I am going to name him Kiku, just like Chichi!”
You laughed at this, seeing that your husband’s cheeks were now a light shade of pink.
Just then, both Yuki and Kauru caught one together, using both of their nets.
“Good job, you guys!” you said, handing them their fish.
“What are you going to name your fish?” asked Japan.
“Sakana (7).” answered your sons at the same time with your husband’s monotone voice.
You smiled at this, knowing that they don’t really have a sense of creativity.
After that, you went to a booth that sold masks. Sakura picked out a Pikachu mask, while Yuki and Kauru picked identical ones that was shaped like a dragon. You picked a (favorite animal) mask and Japan picked a cat one.
Then you walked towards a booth that sold food and snacks.
After the sun went down, you all stayed for the fireworks.
Once the festival was over, you carried your sleeping daughter while your husband carried Yuki and Kauru, both snoring on his shoulders. You drove home, and when you arrived you tucked in your children in their beds. Before you turned out the lights, you whispered at the door,
“Happy fifth birthday, my beautiful kodomo.”

1: Mother in Japanese
2: Father in Japanese
3: a traditional Japanese dress wear that both men and women can wear
4: Children in Japanese
5. The waist belt that is worn around the waist on top of the kimono that must be tied from the back
6. Yes in Japanese
7. Fish in Japanese
I do not own Hetalia or anything else except the plot and story line. Enjoy!
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