literature

GermanyxAbused!ReaderxPrussia - Oh, Sinners (4)

Deviation Actions

Ravens-of-Rome's avatar
By
Ravens-of-Rome
Published:
4K Views

Literature Text

Oh, sinners, let’s go down,
Down to the valley to pray.




I was sent backward before Dad took my face in his large hand and rammed my head into the wall. I sank to the floor, my vision blurring, while he shoved me in various directions with his booted foot. In the meantime, Mom sat on the couch sipping from her coffee mug, calmly watching the scene unfold. She would say something every now and then to try and prove a point, but I’d learned a long time ago not to trust the bullshit that came out of her mouth.

The last thing I remember before I blacked out was Dad hissing, “Piece of shit.” He pushed my head again with his foot, and I lost consciousness.



The next day (three weeks after Ludwig showed up at my door) was a constant struggle. I fought my body all day to stay upright, stay conscious, stay inconspicuous. I had started picking less fights since I met Ludwig; whether or not that was coincidence I’m not sure, but I knew it would be better for me and my health to keep my conflicts to a minimum.

I skipped lunch. After walking into the cafeteria, all the noise funneled into my ears and caused my head to pound. So I quickly made the decision that I would spend lunch in the bathroom.

P.E. was my next class—and, as if by cruel fate, it was running day. Every student was required to run a mile in under fifteen minutes or had to repeat the process every school day until she was finally successful. I was never the athletic type to begin with, and the task became all the more difficult when you factored in the fact that my body was regularly used as a punching bag.

Of course, I didn’t make the mile marker in less than fifteen minutes. I timed in at exactly nineteen minutes and forty-eight seconds—I’m honestly surprised I made it that soon considering I felt like I was dying the whole time (seriously, I felt like my entire body was shutting down on me).

I staggered into my final class, exhausted and sore, and practically fell into my seat. Ludwig was already at his desk, and he noticed right away that I was not alright. I could tell through my cloudy vision and body aches that he wanted to say something, but ever since our encounter on Christmas Eve, he’d always held back. So he watched me through worried eyes for the duration of the class.

I managed to stay (barely) alert until the final bell rang. My classmates scrambled out of their desks and out the door, but Ludwig and I remained seated. Ludwig slowly stood and took a few steps toward the door. I knew he was watching me—I could feel his piercing blue eyes on my hunched back. I frowned and, through my pain and disorientation, headed out the door and down the hallway. I sat alone on the bus, Ludwig sitting not too far away. I still felt his stare, but I held firm, never letting my body falter.

The bus came to an abrupt halt for the umpteenth time, and Ludwig and I stepped off at our stop. The bus dropped us off about a block away from my house, almost directly in front of Ludwig’s, then sputtered off down the road.

“Is that who I think it is?!”

Ludwig and I turned to see a familiar face approaching us. He smirked, his hands on his hips as he stood smugly in front of us. “Long time no see, _____. What’s kept you?”

I blinked, honestly a bit surprised that Gilbert still considered me a friend. Nonetheless, I mirrored his expression. “I’ve been busy kicking people’s asses. So what’s it like being a freshman, freshman?”

“It sucks—but it’s way better than middle school ever was,” he remarked.

“Better how?”

Gilbert opened his mouth to respond, but no words came out. His brows furrowed as he thought. “I don’t really know. It’s just better, for some reason.”

I grinned, though a persistent urge to hurry home was boring at my mind. I had to get home before Mom got suspicious. If she had even the slightest bit of suspicion, she’d snitch to Dad. “Well, good for you. I gotta run home now.”

Gilbert furrowed his brows, looking a bit taken aback. “Already? But I haven’t seen you in almost a year!”

Despite the cold air nipping at my skin, sweat accumulated under my clothing. I took a few steps backward and began to turn on my heel, my legs threatening to buckle under me. “Sorry, Gil. I gotta get started on my homework. I’ve got a pile of it today.”

“Can’t it wait?” Ludwig said, causing me to pause in my stride. “Can’t we at least talk a little while longer?”

I felt like crying. Why did he have to say things like that? I wanted to cry. I wanted to be their friends. I didn’t want to be alone anymore. But I couldn’t let them get involved in my life. I scowled and continued to my house. “I’m busy!”

But alas, fate thought otherwise. Immediately after I took a step forward, my legs lost their strength. My body hit the asphalt and finally gave out.



The first thing I became aware of when I awoke was a serious exchange between three people—three males, one much older. They spoke in a foreign tongue, so I couldn’t understand what they were saying. When I opened my eyes, I was lying on a brown couch in a large, well-lit living area. Then I saw Ludwig seated in a chair that had been moved to my side. He had my jacket in his lap, a first-aid kit sitting on top of it.

He turned his head, noticing me. “Gut,” he said, relief laced in his voice. “You’re finally awake.”

My fingers found their way to my face, and I felt gauze that had been tightly wrapped around my head. I still felt tired, but I felt better. “How long have I been out?”

“A little over an hour,” he replied. “You passed out when you were talking to us, und we took you back to our house.” He glanced down at the first-aid kit in his lap. “I noticed that your head needed tending to—I hope you don’t mind.”

“There was a nasty bruise on the back of your head,” Gilbert chimed in. “How did you get it? Did you lose a fight?”

No, I just didn’t put up one, I thought before making something up. “No, I didn’t lose. But he got a few good hits in before I finished him off.”

Gilbert whistled, impressed, but quieted down when Mr. Beilschmidt grunted in disapproval.

“Thanks for helping me out,”—I pushed myself up and moved to stand up—“but I really have to get home.”

“Seriously?” said Gilbert. “You just randomly passed out on the street. You need a break, Frau.”

“_____, please,” Ludwig added. “You need to rest.”

“I’m fine,” I refuted with a grimace. My head pounded, and my body begged for rest, but I moved anyway—at least, until I felt a large hand on my shoulder.

Mr. Beilschmidt looked down at me with his piercing blue eyes (like father like son, I suppose), a hint of concern barely visible in his features. “You shouldn’t be moving around so much in your condition, Fraulein. If you are so insistent on going home, then we will take you there. But we are not letting you walk there.”

I couldn’t help but marvel at how he spoke to me. His tone was gentle yet firm. It was very, for lack of a better word, fatherly—more fatherly than my own father, anyway. I pursed my lips, uncertain of which choice to make. I knew either way Dad would be mad; either way the Beilschmidts would get involved.

Suddenly, a rumbling noise emanated from my stomach. Gilbert cackled. “I think somebody’s hungry.”

Well, he wasn’t wrong. I hadn’t eaten since lunch the previous day, which was a small meal in itself. I was famished, but of course, I would never say that. Instead, I simply shrugged and went along with it. “My stomach has a mind of its own, I guess.”

“I’ll make you something to eat.” Mr. Beilschmidt stood and headed toward the kitchen in the adjacent room.

“Oh, you really don’t have to—” I started.

“Too late,” Gilbert remarked, cutting me off. “He’s off in Doting Parent World now, und he’ll stay that way until you’re better.”



I ended up staying seated in that exact spot, just talking about random things with the three (mostly Ludwig and Gilbert) while downing three bowls of soup and two glasses of water. Gilbert spoke a lot of high school; his reviews were positive, but he did reference more than a few downsides to being a freshman. One story involved the upperclassmen carrying him and (with his consent) throwing him into a garbage can as a form of hazing. I laughed and smiled more in that short span than I had in all my years beforehand. I could tell that Ludwig had long forgiven me for saying the things I said over the Christmas break. He was far more forgiving than I was. I’ll always be thankful for that.

Some time during our prolonged conversation, I glanced at the wall clock—and my stomach threatened to expel the food I’d just eaten. It was six o’clock, over thirty minutes past the time Dad usually got home. I shakily stood and sputtered out, “O-Okay. I think I should be getting home now.”

“Aw,” Gilbert whined. “No fun.”

I looked at Mr. Beilschmidt with a somewhat apologetic smile. “And I think I can walk. I’m feeling a lot better now.”

Unconvinced, he hummed in comprehension and said to his sons, “You two walk her back. It’s not safe for a girl like her to be walking alone at night.”

“Gotcha, Vati!” said Gilbert.

“Ja, Vati,” said Ludwig.

The two walked me home, one on each side of me, until we reached my front yard. I quickly said goodbye and went to the front porch, waiting for them to turn around before preparing myself for what lay in store for me behind the closed door.



Show me the way,
Good Lord, show me the way.
holesgermanyprussiahetaliahetaliaaxispowersgilbertbeilschmidtludwigbeilschmidtgermanyxreaderprussiaxreaderhetaliaxreaderabusedreaderdowntothevalley
:iconcommentplz:

It's here! It's finally here~!

I'm sorry, y'all. I've been both really busy and really lazy lately, which is why I didn't finish sooner.

Previous: ravens-of-rome.deviantart.com/…
Next: ravens-of-rome.deviantart.com/…

Story (c) Me
Picture (c) Not Me
Hetalia (c) Himeruya Hidekazu
© 2015 - 2024 Ravens-of-Rome
Comments15
Join the community to add your comment. Already a deviant? Log In
anime2455's avatar
anime2455
I can't find part 5. Can someone comment a link?