Hetalia Oneshots

Russia - Repaired With Gold

A/N

Hello!!! Before you read, I want to ask you all something.

I'm going to write a songfic using a Spanish song soon and I've only been doing Spain x Readers lately for such songfics. So, I want to switch things up a little and use a Latin American country instead.

Which one do you want me to do? Leave a comment!

Thanks a lot. You may now proceed to read the story. Enjoy!

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It was the middle of December and General Winter was raging in Russia with snowstorms.

Trudging through the tempests and the thick blanket of snow on the ground, your stomach roared in hunger, and your body shivered against the piercingly cold winds.

Pulling your thin cloak closer to your body, you fumbled in your bag for the loaf of bread that was quickly getting over.

You took a piece of the cold bread with your trembling hand and ate it. Keeping the bread back in your bag, you continued going through the snow with no particular destination.

You were a wanderer, especially after you ran away from home. Back home, you were very interested in reading books and learning about the world, but your family thought you were a total nutcase to be interested in such things.

Women were not allowed to be educated, and you never settled for that. You secretly learned how to read and write from someone and when your parents found out, they threatened to disown you or even kill you.

Fearing for your life, you ran away from home in the dead of the night, and since then, it has been two days. Thinking about this as you walked, tears ran down your cheeks. Those tears froze right there since it was so cold.

You had done all this for the sake of learning, and you wondered if it was worth it. Despite all that, you couldn't fully hate your father and your brothers. It was their upbringing to be blamed. It was this poisonous society, aristocracy, everything.

Feeling tired, you sat down under a pine tree in the cold snow and rubbed your bare, freezing hands.

You felt like this winter was going to take you away into death's welcoming arms. Closing your eyes, you waited for the hypothermia to hit and kill you.

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"How many times did I tell you that girls shouldn't read books?!" your father raged drunkenly as he got out his belt.

Cowering in fear, you held the Russian history book in your arms tighter and backed away from your dad, tears in your eyes. Livid, he snatched the book from your hands and threw it into the furnace and you stared at the burning book with horror.

"What a disobedient girl you are." Said your father, glaring at you with his red eyes.

"Father, I'm sorry!" you cried as he belted you several times. At each impact of the belt, you cried louder, but nobody heard you or tried to stop your father.

At last, after a few more, your father stopped and as he walked away, he said,

"You are a grown girl, you should understand already!" he shouted, "If you repeat this again, I will throw you out of the house."