Hetalia X Male Reader Oneshots: Love From Around The World

Chibi!Russia x Kind!Loving!M Reader: A Broken Promise

Ivan whimpered as he laid sprawled out in the snow, the world around him spinning. He winced when the hard wind blew, scratching irritability at his soft skin until it turned red. His head was pounding, the laughs of his assailants echoing in his ears. He let out a sigh, closing his eyes when a few tears slipped down his cheeks. He was soon soft crying, his soft sobs and hiccups filling the empty forest around him.

"A-a-all I wanted was some friends..." Ivan whispered softly to himself as he gently whipped the tears away with his sleeve, looking up towards the sky. A few snow flakes landed on his face before melting away, mixing with Ivan's tears. He sniffled, attempting to sit up. But he stopped when his side began to burn, making him wince. More tears brimming the corners of his eyes.

He looked down in concern, eyes widening when he saw that blood had dyed the snow where he once laid. He took in a shaky, panicked breathe, seeing that his side was bleeding. One of Mongolias arrows must have grazed him while he was being chased by the group of bullies. Now that he remembered, the sharp, painful feeling of something hitting his side was what made him fall.

"This isn't good..." He said as he covered the bleeding wound, tearing up more as he became more panicked. "What if I bleed to death? Is this where I'm going to die? Will it hurt when I die? What happens after I die? Will I be alone once I die? I don't want to die here, I don't want to be alone..." He says, his sobs growing uncontrollable as he because scared. The stress caused his crimson blood to seep out faster, slipping through his fingers and spilling onto the snow.

Ivan didn't realize what harm he was doing to himself, even when he grew dizzy. He whimpered as he held his head, slowly laying back in the snow. So this really was how he was going to die. All cold, alone, and scared. Ivan's heart sinking when he realized this, closing his eyes in sadness.

"All I wanted... Was... Friends..." The little nation mumbled as he started to drift into sleep, hoping to die peacefully in his sleep. He tried his best to get comfortable, using his now tattered scarf as a thin blanket. He was a little upset when he felt wet spots on it, most likely his blood. Katyusha would surely be upset since she had put so much love and effort into making the scarf that was now ripped and stained.

With this blow of disappointment and shame, Ivan let himself go, falling into the welcoming arms of sleep. He was completely unaware of the outside world now, falling deeper and deeper into darkness until it felt like it was suffocating. Deaths hands sealed over his mouth and nose, depriving Ivan of air. Once the painful need for air settled in Ivan began to fight, the fear of dying overwhelming him. He fought and struggled until he escaped. He desperately began to swim through the darkness, watching it disappear around him until light consumed all of him.

Ivans eyes softly opened, his lungs finally getting sweet, sweet air when he took in a breath of air. He took a few moments for himself, leaning his head back as warmth began to come back to his body. He did this for a few moments before realizing something. He wasn't in the snow anymore. Ivan sat up quickly, now in a panicked, bewildered state.

Ivan was in a rather soft, warm and welcoming bed. It felt like a bed he would find in the czars castle that he's only touched, forbidden to ever lay in them. Along with the blankets that he was wrapped in, giving him warmth he had never felt before. They felt to be made with fabric from Asia and cotton from India, the same linens the czar had the Ivan's only had the pleasure to touch but not use. Ivan hummed as he leaned back into the pillows, which looked to be made from silk cases and stuffed with wool. All of these were like luxury items to Ivan that he's only seen, now he was laying among them. And he didn't want to leave, even though he knew they weren't his.

The room was simply lit by a candle that sat on a nightstand beside the bed, the wax pooling into a tin pan at the bottom. The room, which Ivan guess was a bed, was filled with numerous painting coming from all over the world. Not one piece of art having the same style as another. Along with the paintings was a variety of weapons, clothes, and other souvenirs. It was clear that who ever owned this house was someone who adventured the world, or loved to trade. Ivan wondered who this person was.