Hetalia x Abused! Child! Reader: Hat Game

Scarf

Something brushed over your hands, something that felt light and soft...

Grasping it, you pulled out the object, to revel a light pink scarf. It was cool to the touch and felt slightly like water.

"Huh? Poland, is this you?" England asked.

Poland's eyes narrowed.

"Like, no way. That's made of, like, silk, and I soo don't do silk. Makes my neck like really itchy." He dismissed.

"So, who's..."

"AHH! THE ADORABLE RAGAZZA IS-A MINE!"

A white flash suddenly scooped your from England's arms, spinning round in a whirlwind so fats that his rose spectacles fell off.

"Oh darn, where-a did they go?" Flavio paused for a moment, looking round until he spotted them under the table.

"Ah no, its'a the 2p, bastardo." Romano scowled.

"Languar round-a the bambini!" Flavio scowled, crouching down to pick them up, still holding you.

You were still holding the scarf, slight confused by what had just happened.

"Aww, she looks-a so adorable with it!" Flavio draped the scarf round your neck, and before anyone had a chance to say anything, had practically skipped out the room, still holding you.

"What is-a your name, principessa?" he asked.

"It's girl." You replied.

"What? No, it can't-a be... hmm... do you have-a name in mind?"

You thought for a moment, before answering, "I, I always liked [Name]..."

"Well-a then, we shall-a call you [Name]."

"Is that you, Flavio?"

"Si, Ollie, it's me!"

"How was the tri - oh my!"

You were suddenly greeted by a shock of strawberry blonde hair, and a set of ice blue eyes.

"Who is this, Flavio?"

"This is-a [Name], my daughter!" Falvio declared.

"What?"

"Flavio, vhat zhe hell?"

"What are you all talking about?"

"What is going on, eh?"

You found yourself surrounded by people, all staring at you. Unsure and slightly scared, you turned your head to burrow your face into Flavio's shoulder.

"Aww, ma bambina is scared! Step back, you idiota's!"

"Flavio!"

Upon hearing another Italian accent, you tentatively lifted your head slightly to peer at the man pushing his way through the crowd.

"Fratello, meet your-a nipote!"

The crimson eyes connected with your [e/c] ones, staring until he broke it off.

"So, you're now a padre? Where did you-a even get the bambina?"

"The meeting for the-a 1P's! I figured I had-a best step in, otherwise that-a 1P France might have-a got her!"

"Probably not a bad idea..." François muttered.

"[Name]?" Flavio peered into her room, but was unable to find her.

"[Name]?" He pondered, only then to hear gunshots outside.

"Oh-a dear, is Al shooting things again?" Making his way downstairs, he bumped into Ollie, who was carrying a plate of cupcakes.

"Oh, hello, Flavio!" he trilled.

"Ciao, Ollie - have you-a seen [name]?" Flavio asked.

"Oh yes, she's outside with the guys." The Brit hummed, going out the door.

Flavio followed, only to be greeted with more gunfire.

"Idiota! You're-a teaching her wrong!"

"I zhink you vill find ve am not."

"Exactly, now shut it, you pasta eating twat."

"Alfred! Swear Jar!"

[Name] was currently standing, facing some targets, with an air rifle held to her shoulder. Al was on one knee behind her, hands over her own smaller ones so he could help support the weapon that was slightly too heavy for her. Lutz was on her other side, instructing her.

"Ok, klien, now, place your eye to the rear sight, and close zhe other, and line up to zhe target... now, on the count on drei, ja? eins... zwei... drei!"

The noise echoed through the air, scaring off some birds. Looking, Flavio saw an almost perfect shot.

"Gut gemacht, [Name]." The German smirked, ruffling her hair.

"See? If I had-a tried, she would-a have hit bulls eye!" Luciano complained.

"Ja, ja, vhatever." Lutz dismissed.

"You can barley hit the target itself." Al grinned, showing the gap in his mouth as he took the gun from [Name], picking her up in his arms before lazily tossing her over to the Canadian to his left, who caught her with ease.

"I think we should teach her to hit moving objects next." Matt merely commented, idly stroking [Name]'s [h/c] hair, looking over at Vlad who was sitting in the corner.

"I volunteed Al as a target." The Russian replied.

"Hey!"