Hetalia x Abused!Child!Reader: Germany

Warning: Prussia and Germany's drunk language

You reached inside, shuffling your hand around before clutching onto a hard and smooth something that fit between three of your fingers. You pulled it out: a cross necklace.

 The man holding the bag’s face went bright red as several people called to him.

“Ve~! Congratulations, Germany!” A glare from the German made Feliciano nervous. “I-I mean Ludwig! Right, Ludwig, hehe…”

“No vay mein un-awesome bruder gets to raise her!”

“Good for you, Ludwig-san.”

You assumed this man, Ludwig, was who you were going to live with. At least for right now.

“Meeting adjourned, every-vone. Ze next meeting vill be held in France in two months…”

“Hononon,” A pretty man laughed. “See you all zere, suckers!”

“Goodbye, love,” Arthur’s voice behind you said, taking the jacket from your little form as Ludwig picked you up, taking his necklace back. “Would it be alright if I visit every so often?”

The German and you made (in his opinion, awkward) eye contact. He looked back up at Arthur, “Ja. Just after she gets vell again.”

“Fair enough,” He smiled, saying one last goodbye before turning around and leaving.

The blonde holding you sighed, making eye contact again. “I am Ludwig Beilschmidt.”

“I-I’m (Y-Y/n) (L/n).”

His eyes softened at the pitiful way you looked. Dirty, abused, shivering and stuttering, wet—he needed to fix that quickly. “One second,” He said to you, turning to a white-haired man that was approaching quickly with a yellow bird on his shoulder and a smirk upon his face. “Bruder! I need you to do somezing for us.”

It didn’t go unnoticed that Ludwig had said ‘us.’

~~~~~

Germany put an extra undershirt he brought over your freshly-cleaned head, pulling it down so it was a night-dress.

You looked up at him curiously. He hadn’t spoken since first helping you prepare for the bath, and saw scars your Father left on your small, fragile body. Except a few ‘shut your eyes’ that came from washing your hair until it was clean again, and wiping the grime off of your body from the mud of the previous day. His facial expression hadn’t changed from that neutral one, though.

“Are you varm enough, (Y/n)?”

Not wanting to complain or make this man angry, you said, “Y-yes, s-s-sir.”

He hummed in annoyance, picking you up with giant arms (in your eyes they were). “Don’t lie to me, madchen.”

“Sorry,” You squeaked, fearful of what the big man might do.

“I just don’t vant you to get any sicker zan you already are,” He carried you back to the main room, with two beds that had two adults sitting on them. Ludwig froze, a small sound escaping his lips. “Vat—how did you two get in?!”

“Ve~! Hi Luddy! Hi (Y/n)!” Feliciano squealed happily, running up to you and kissing your cheek.

“Hi Feli!”

“Kon'nichiwa, (Y/n)-san. You can call me Kiku,” The man, with black hair and brown eyes, had been at the meeting and suggested you go back to your Father. You weren’t sure what to think about him being friends with your new father. He turned to Ludwig, face never leaving a neutral look. “Ita-ry-san opened the door.”

Ludwig groaned as you giggled at the funny faces Feli made.

The German said, “Listen. It is very nice that you two decided to invite yourselves over, but ve are rather busy vith getting (Y/n) settled und varm. Gilbert is coming back in a few minutes, und I vould appreciate it if ve could get some privacy.”

~~~~~

Kiku went without protest, understanding the German’s need for privacy with you. But Feli had stood up for himself, wanting to join the three of you (four including Gilbird) and get close to you. So, when Gilbert brought back dinner and some clothes for tomorrow’s flight to Germany, he was allowed to stay.

“Hello, mein new neice!” Gilbert said, grinning broadly. “I am ze Awesome Prussia! Your new Onkle! Und zis is mein Awesome Gilbird!” He motioned to a yellow bird perched on his shoulder.

You were silent, looking up at him with wide eyes as the food was presented (and clothes placed on the night stand for tomorrow’s use). Ludwig was holding you in his arms, attempting to keep you warm. He had placed you under the bed covers when you wouldn’t stop shivering—and even then, you didn’t stop until he laid down beside you, holding your little form.

As of right now though, Feli (he insisted you call him Zio Feli) was the only one you trusted the most. Gilbert and Ludwig smelled like beer. Beer made your Father turn into a monster. You decided to stay as quiet as you could, and not make them angry.

Gilbert took out the take-out boxes, what you ate your Father’s leftovers from. Oh. Your three-year-old mind clicked the facts together: they were eating what your Father ate, then you’d eat their leftovers. Did every family do that? “I called Alfred, you met him at ze meeting, to see vat you might like best. Do you like pizza?” Gilbert said, looking at you.

You nodded, and Zio Feli rubbed your shoulder. Really, you liked any food. So long as you got to eat, you were fine with it.

Ludwig grunted in response. “Did you at least get sausage on it?”

“Nein, little bruder. I didn’t know vat (Y/n) vould like, so I got plain cheese. Zis is her night.”

Another disapproving grunt before Ludwig sat up with you, and a full slice was offered to you.

You looked at it, shocked. You normally had only the hard parts at the end; the crusts. “I-is it f-for me? All o-of that?”

The three men stared at you. Gilbert sweat-dropped. “I mean, if you don’t vant it you don’t have to take it. But you look hungry, kind.”

You looked into his eyes. Was it a trick?

“Go ahead, (Y/n)!” Feli exclaimed, sitting next to you and Ludwig on the bed and placing a hand on your back. “It is alright!”

You quickly took the slice from the Prussian, thanking him between hungry bites.

“Heh, anytime, frau.” He smiled proudly, smirking at Ludwig.

“Ja,” Ludwig said, “Vas Italy’s pasta ze only food you have had in a vhile?”

You didn’t understand his accent too well, but didn’t want to keep a question unanswered. You nodded, chewing on your food.

“How long has it been since you ate?”

You swallowed, “I had Father’s le-leftover food d-day ‘fore yesterday.”

“You didn’t eat yesterday? Vhy not?!” His tone was still gentle though, and you had to trust that he wasn’t angry at you.

“I ra-an away fr-from Father an’ n-no one would help me o-outside. So I c-c-couldn’t eat.”

They were silent.

~~~~~

Zio Feli left after dinner, leaving you alone with the men who smelled like beer.

It scared you to death. Gilbert had gone to shower, leaving you with Ludwig. You two had laid on the bed in silence, you dozing in and out of sleep for a while before Gilbert got out and decided to talk.

“So, frau,” Gilbert began, while his brother was in the shower, “how old are you?”

You didn’t meet his eyes. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, and you were lying under the covers. “Three.”

“Oh, really? Three?” He was genuinely surprised. You looked so small, but when he looked into your eyes he saw age and pain. Like a country after its first war. “You’re very pretty, you know. Und almost as awesome as me.”

“Thank you…” You wanted your stuffed bunny. But you had agreed to let them clean it in the hotel laundry, with your other clothes. It would be done by tomorrow though, before the flight left for Germany.

“Vhy do you sound so scared of me?” He laid back, legs hanging off the side of the bed. “I’m not going to hurt you, you know. Und my bruder might seem mean sometimes, but he really isn’t.”

You were quiet for a moment, before answering, “Y-you both smell like beer. Th-that’s w-what my Father drank, and then h-he’d turn into a m-mo-onster.”

Gilbird chirped.

It was his turn to be quiet. “Monster?”

“Th-that’s when he came h-home an—an’ hurt m-me lots.”

“Mein Gott…” This was said much more quietly as he sat up, looking at you with wide eyes. Prussia hadn’t been listening to what Britain was saying at the meeting, until you had spoken for the first time and he looked up. So, he got the gist that you were abused. Just not the entire story. “Ja…Ve are Germans, liebling. We drink beer, but—ve are not monsters. Sometimes men are born zat vay, like your Fazer. But not all of us are, you know?” He laid down beside you, and smiled softly. “As your Awesome Onkle, I swear I vill not let anyone hurt you. But you know vhat?”

“W-what?” Your eyes began to water. No one had ever spoken to you on such a level as he was doing now.

Gilbert winked. “Mein un-awesome bruder is actually pretty awesome vhen it comes to protecting people he cares about. Und he definitely cares about you.”

“Wh—wha—really?” You squeaked.

With amazing timing, Ludwig came out of the bathroom at that point in pajama bottoms and an undershirt.

Prussia only grinned.

“Bruder, let (Y/n) sleep,” The German said.

“Ve vere just talking,” He shrugged, smiling at you. “(Y/n) is very sweet. But I haven’t seen you smile!”

“W-what’s that g-got do to with an-anythin’?”

“You haven’t smiled since I met you, und zat bozers me!”

You pouted, looking at Ludwig. He had the bathroom door open, brushing his teeth and apparently not hearing you two. Secretly, he just wanted to let Prussia tire you out so the two of you could sleep—as there were only two beds in the room, you and the German were bunking together. And Germany, although caring for you, had immediately thought of Italy when that popped into his head. And then felt awkward after.

“Ze awesome me knows a vay to get you to smile!”

“How?” You said, quiet.

Gilbert grabbed and held you above his body with outstretched arms, grinning.

You shrieked, looking at him with wide eyes. “I—I’m c-cold!”

“I’ll keep you varm! But ze Awesome me is going to do somezing I did vhen Ludwig vas really really young…I’m going to eat you!” He then drew you close to his face, making mock-chomping noises, and blew a raspberry on your neck.

You squealed, having never felt the ticklish vibrations before.

Ludwig looked up, shocked to hear such giggling from you.

Gilbert brought you back up again, laughing right along with you. “Now zat’s a smile!” He did this again and again, tickling you until you both were laughing messes.

Ludwig came over to the bed, smiling himself. “I don’t remember you ever doing zat to me.”

“Duh, you vere, like, totally young and innocent and stuff. You are old and un-awesome now.”

He groaned, causing you to giggle again.

Ludwig poked your belly, smirking himself now. “Don’t encourage him.”

You giggled, hiding your face in your hands and lying on your back beside Gilbert. He got up, bouncing the bed some, and let the blonde settle into the covers with you on his chest.

He couldn’t help but think of how small you really were. Not only compared to his body, but for your age. You were malnourished and bruised, very much so abused. Germany felt his heart speed up just a little when you looked up at him, still smiling from before.

“But you vere so cute!” Gilbert asked. “I totally remember zat squeal you gave out vhen I’d tickle your armpi—”

“STOP!”

Despite the raised voice, you flinched but knew that whine in Ludwig’s voice took away any malice. You giggled when his face turned bright red, and Gilbert laughed right along.

Ludwig’s face only turned redder, and he hid it behind a big hand. “Gutten nacht, idiot.”

“Gutten nacht, mein ticklish little bruder. You know, I totally forgot about zat until now. And you just gave away ze fact zat you’re still—”

He threw a pillow at Gilbert’s face, hitting it successfully. “Shut up, jerk.”

The light was turned off after some more bickering, and you rested your head against Ludwig’s chest. “Night-night.”

Both replied, “Gutten nacht.”

Gilbird chirped.

Ludwig rubbed your back, lulling you to sleep and keeping you warm. Even your uncovered legs.

He looked down after a few minutes, and rolled over to his side so you were beside him. Still, even in sleep, you grabbed onto his shirt. Germany sighed, allowing you to bury your head in his neck. You were pretty sweet asleep, and he felt a bit warm in the face that you trusted him enough to snuggle against.

“Hey, Germany?” Prussia asked after a while of laying there.

The blonde was surprised that his brother was still awake—and being quiet enough so he wouldn’t wake you. “Ja?”

“You sure you are ready to raise a kind?”

Without hesitation, “Vat? Of course! I take care of Italy, don’t I?”

“…True,” He said, laughing some. “But Italy is not a three-year-old abused girl, is he?”

“Mm,” He had to agree. “Perhaps it vill be harder zan I thought. But I am ready to give her vatever she needs…Ja,” He looked down at your sleeping form against his body, snoring lightly and clutching onto his shirt. “Ja, I vant to raise her!”

“Hm? Good. Zan you know zat vill mean no beer.”

“Vat?”

Prussia told him what you said about your father being “mean” when he drank. “And I can only guess it vouldn’t be good parenting to drink like ve normally do around her, ja? Not after zat kind of life, anyvay.”

Germany proceeded to tell him about the scars on your body, and the fresh bruises.

“Mm,” Prussia thought. “Ja. I von’t drink around her. I am awesome and von't do it for her. Hell, I might even take a shower sometimes to get ze smell off.”

“Zat is a big feat.”

Prussia threw the previously thrown pillow back, Germany catching it with one hand.

~~~~~

*Three day Time-skip brought to you by Awesome Beer! . . . . Wait, n-not in this story it isn’t…*

“Luddy?”

Your voice sounded so miserable, so weak, the German rushed to the bedside (and ignored the ‘Luddy’ nick-name he hated coming from everyone else but you). You were in his guestroom bed, and he was doing paperwork from right across the room to stay close. “Vat is it, liebe?” His voice was gentle and soft.

You were definitely sick, poor thing. It was seven in the evening now, at Germany’s house. You had been sleeping on and off all day—he took time off to work home instead of at it to be with you. It seemed that the flu strain you caught from the day and night on the freezing street were typical cold symptoms: sore throat, fever, chills, and coughing. Chills and coughing being the worst of these two, Germany had to hope that he didn’t get sick from snuggling you practically every night. Lucky for him, his country-immune system was stronger than that of a human.

And he was freaking Germany, he took care of himself when it came to that kind of stuff. Being the neat-freak he was, the man was wiping nearly everything you touched down, and did laundry today so the sheets were clean.

“Thirsty,” You croaked, causing another coughing fit to rack your entire body.

He quickly got the cup of ice water from the nightstand, rubbing your back and offering it to your lips when the fit passed. “I’m right here for you, (Y/n). I’m not going avay.”

“D…Donkey, F—Fatty.” You struggled to remember the German words, but wanted to impress him.

“. . . Vat?” He sweat-dropped, eyes going white and a nervous smile forming on his face. Perhaps you were sicker than he thought…

“D—Donkey? Vati,” You tried again. “Danke.”

He made a small sound, understanding now. That was the first time anyone had ever called him Vati. It felt nice. Very nice, actually. Even if it was part of your sickness clouding your head, you had just called him a daddy. His chest swelled, a proud smile on his face. “Hey, z—thank you! Danke, zat’s right! Very good!” He grinned, and couldn’t stop grinning as your little eyes shut. Germany put the water back on the nightstand, stroking your hair once before taking your small and fragile hand in his. “If I’m your Vati, zen you can be mein Tochter…Ja, I like zat!”

He laughed, kissing your cheek before getting up to finish his work. The more he thought about it, the more Germany loved that feeling he got when you called him Vati.

Prussia, on the other hand, wondered why the hell his brother seemed so giddy when he came down to the kitchen.

~~~~~

*One month Time-skip brought to you by Gilbird!*

“Vati?” Your tiny voice squeaked.

You were nursed back to health by Ludwig, Onkle Gilbert, Zio Feli, and Oji Kiku. You had gotten well again quickly, blossoming into a sweet young girl. Although you still had serious nightmares over your Other Father, Vati was there for you almost every night you had them. This was unfortunately often, but he didn’t mind when you came into his room late at night.

It might have been a bit awkward to be smushed between you and Italy most of those nights, but he didn’t mind waking up like that in the morning.

“Papa?”

Once you got better, your Vati (Germany) sat you down and told you about the countries. He made a promise that when you were older he would get Britain to cast a spell so you could live with him longer than a regular human would, but you would age really quickly in the meantime. To him, a centuries-old country, human lives were so short and aged so quickly. But he couldn’t let that stand in the way of raising you.

You rounded off into the kitchen, where you saw your Vati, arguing with your Onkle and his friends France and Spain. Their voices were raised, scaring you in their native tongues of German, Spanish, and French. None of which you recognized.

“(Y/n)!” Germany turned to you, clearing his throat. “Liebe, please go back up to your room, ja?”

“I—I had a ni-nightma—”

“A nightmare, I know.”

You blinked in surprise. He didn’t usually sound like that, voice slurred and interrupting you.

“Just…I’ll be vith you in a minute, sveetheart. Right after I deal vith zese dummkopfs.” He stood, swaying some on his feet while walking towards you. “Go back up to bed,” His words came out annoyed, towards you.

Your eyes widened as you recognized this behavior. Unbalanced, slurred words, and angry. Your Vati was drunk. And your little heart simply broke.

This was the exact nightmare you just had, why you had run out here in the first place! It was about the night you ran away—but Germany took the place of your Father . . . But Onkle Gilbert promised you Vati wasn’t mean when he got drunk! And there he was, shouting at your Onkle and his friends, talking to you like your Other Father would when he didn’t want to be mean to you in front of his friends...But secretly,you knew your Other Father was angry and would hurt you later on.

Right now, the other three were watching you, the two friends smiling. It wasn’t the kind of nice smile when they greeted you—it was like your Other Father’s friends smiling, when he got angry at you for interrupting their “man time.” Like the smile a parent gave their child when he (or she) was throwing a tantrum that was over nothing. Those were smiles of an understanding; they knew your Father was going to hurt you. Spain had that understanding smile, not fully understanding that the terror that froze you was not just because of a nightmare. France was looking on, taking a small sip of his wine and smiling happily (being a happy, if not a bit horny around the countries just to bug them, drunk).

 Gilbert was the one who understood that Germany should not be drinking around you and looked panicked. He thought Germany would watch you tonight while the Bad Touch Trio went out to have fun. And Germany thought the same of Gilbert, going out to a bar with the other Axis members himself at an earlier time. Really, it was a simple mix-up, and the countries thought they could get away with this once without your knowing.

It obviously didn’t go that way.

Your world crashed down on you, and you screamed as his arms came towards you with that stench of alcohol: your Father. You ran back, stumbling some, as old instincts took over and you rushed upstairs to your room in a terrified frenzy. You grabbed a chair from the desk, dragging it to the door and setting it against there. Then, with a sense of déjà-vu, you hid in the closet.

As you huddled in fear in the shadows of the closet corner, you realized that not all endings are meant to be happy.

~~~~~

“(Y/n)?” Germany said, aware of the fact you were scared and running but not sure why.

“Dummkopf!”

He turned, not expecting the Prussian to say that to him. “Vat?”

Prussia, who had surprisingly held himself together and wasn’t as bad off as his friends and brother, was even angrier than before. He said in German, “We are both drunk, idiot! Take a fucking guess why she ran away!”

Germany ran to the sink before throwing up.

“Damn Germany,” France laughed, “how much did you ‘ave to drink?!”

“…Too much…” He wiped his mouth, realization finally dawning through the drunken haze. “Gott, vay too much…”

~~~~~

Germany woke up the next morning on the couch, a hangover clouding his vision. He groaned, sitting up slowly and rubbing his head, vaguely remembering the past night. A mistake had been made . . . What was it? Besides letting France and Spain stay the night, apparently. The two were on the floor below the German, snoring softly and lying together.

“Bruder,” Prussia greeted coldly, behind him holding and mixing eggs in a frying pan. Why they weren’t on the oven yet, Germany didn’t ask.

“Bruder,” He nodded, stepping between the sleeping countries and standing. “How much . . . Vhat . . . Vere is (Y/n)?”

“I don’t know. After she ran avay, I figured she didn’t vant to talk to any of us. Und I didn’t follow her.”

The German made a small sound, eyes going as wide as a child’s. “R-ran avay?! She—she saw us all drunk?! Vat happened?!”

He shrugged. “I remember ve vere fighting last night before she saw us. Either vay, nozing good came out of it. I zink she ran upstairs—ja, I’m certain. I just got up maybe ten minutes ago, haven’t seen her.”

This next sentence came out in a rather pathetic voice, but Germany didn’t care. “D-did I fuck up?”

He chuckled mirthlessly, nodding. “Ja, little bruder. We fucked up big time.”

~~~~~

“(Y/n)?” Germany knocked on your door. “Liebe, are you avake?”

Hearing no answer, he opened it—pushing a chair out of the way as well. He raised a brow. It was obviously meant to stop anyone from coming in, but failed. You didn’t place it under the doorknob, just literally against the door.

It did nothing, just like it nothing to stop your Other Father.

“(Y/n)? Susse?” You weren’t in your bed, and he stepped in to look around.

Gott, did she run avay?

No. Prussia said he saw you run upstairs! Then again, he was drunk . . . Germany wondered how drunk he himself could’ve been (and what the hell he drank) to get this bad of a hangover. And you saw him drunk! He knew—knew!—you came downstairs because of a nightmare and saw the men you came to slowly trust apparently fighting, drunk like your Other Father would be when he hurt you. Germany didn’t remember any of it. He remembered that scream you gave off though; the innocent, “Vati…? Papa?” before screaming in absolute terror.

And it destroyed the German, knowing he had caused that scream.

Beginning to worry, he checked under the bed, in the bathroom in the room, and finally opened the closet door. He made a sound of sympathy, seeing you huddled up in the corner, using the bunny as a pillow. You had obviously attempted to hide under some clothes, but in your sleep had stuck your little head out to breathe easier.

You were still hiccupping. You had cried yourself to sleep.

“Oh, mein libeling,” He knelt down, touching your shoulder. “(Y/n), vake up. Come on, susse. Vake up for me, hm?”

You slowly opened your eyes, immediately jumping back and huddling in the corner of the closet. You whimpered, holding your knees to your chest and expecting it to be like last time you were in a closet with Other Father.

Even if the bruises healed, there were scars that never would.

“Gutten dahg, (Y/n),” He tried slowly and reassuringly, trying to calm you down. “Zere is no reason to afraid, ja?” He held up his hands, making you flinch, and slicked back his messy hair with one hand so he looked halfway decent and normal. “I’m not going to hurt you, okay? Ich liebe dich, (Y/n). Have I told you zat before? I love you. Very, very much. You have taught me many things about being a more patient, kind person. You have nozing to fear from me, alright? I am so, so sorry you saw me last night like zat. But I was only angry at myself und Onkle Prussia for getting…ve both got drunk because neither of us realized…realized the ozer vas drunk. Or zat you would come downstairs. But neither of us vere going to, nor vill ve ever, hurt you. I’m so sorry.”

You whimpered again, tears forming in your eyes as you held your little arms out. “Papa…”

“Mein tochter…poor kind,” He picked you up in a hug, kissing your cheek and walking to the bed to sit. “I vill never hurt you.” He had repeated this many times in reassurance after a nightmare, but this time it was meant firmly.

“Promise?” You asked, stretching your sore limbs from the night on the floor. “You were angry, an’ I got really scared!”

Germany laid down on the bed, holding you close. “Ja, mein schatz. But not at you. Never at you…” He sighed, slicking his hair back with one hand again and then rubbing your back.

You decided to confide in him. “…The night b’fore I ran away, I was hiding in my closet but Other Father found me. H-he took this,” you grabbed your ankle, “an’ threw me at one of those.” You pointed to a wall.

Germany sat up immediately, breath hitching. “He did vhat?!”

“An’ then he started to kick me, an’ I ran away after he had gone night-night.”

He had never heard the full story, only knew the bruises were from the kicks. But now he understood very well why you were extremely fearful of alcohol. Okay. Okay, so, last night was a screw-up. And it couldn’t happen again. Germany sometimes snuck a beer or two when he was out—because all hell would probably break loose if he, therefore his people, did not drink beer—but never got full-on drunk. And seriously, he had no idea why he drank that much last night anyway…

He kissed your temple, then forehead in response to you. “Danke, (Y/n). For trusting me enough to tell me zat. Now, it is about six in ze morning, ja? Let’s go back to sleep for now und try to get some rest.”

“Ja, Papa!” You smiled, kissing his cheek before settling down on the bed next to him. “Ich liebe dich, Vati!”

Germany grinned (he didn’t show it, but he absolutely melts when you perform this little scenario!), wrapping an arm around you and pulling the sheets back up around your bodies. “Ich liebe dich, mein Schatz.”

“What does schatz mean?”

“’Mein Schatz’ means ‘My Treasure,’ (Y/n). You are one of ze best…best things that has ever happened to me.”

You squealed happily, wrapping both arms around his one big arm around you.

He laughed, rolling over on his side so you two could snuggle properly. Germany was so happy with you like this, and treasured these moments so much, that he didn’t even notice Prussia standing in the doorway grinning ear to ear.

The elder brother walked back downstairs to tend to his best friends, making sure to save some breakfast for you two for later. “Heh. Who knew mein un-awesome little bro vas an awesome Vati, eh France?”

"Mm..." The country groaned, rolling over to unknowingly snuggle a sleeping Spain.

Gilbird chirped.