For those of you who have never read a reader insert story before, I will give you a guide to understanding some of the format. for those of you who read these all the time, you know the drill, so you may skip this.

(Y/N)= your name

(F/N)= first name

(L/N)= last name

(H/C)= hair color

(H/L)= hair length

(E/C)= eye color

(F/C)= favorite color

NOTE: Louise is the reader's friend in this story, if you happen to have a friend named Louise, then congratulations, your friend exists in my story! I really doubt that they will look as the way I describe her in the story, but if they do, well then its pure coincidence.

NOTE 2: your feels will be on a roller coaster throughout the duration of this fic, I write to make the reader really feel like they are a part of the action, and I am hereby telling you that I am in no way responsible for making you cry or have an ultimate fangasm, that, my dear reader, is your own risk.

WARNINGS: this fic will contain the following:

-Character death

-sexual situations (lemon)

-language

-gun violence

-yaoi pairings and hinted yaoi pairings (I will put warnings before any yaoi mentionings, since I know there are plenty of homophobic people in the Hetalia fandom)

-Liechtenstein is a total bad-ass in this for a short period of time as well, so yay for her!

NOW ONTO THE STORY!

(Y/N) sighed happily as she entered the hotel, suitcase wheeling softly on the carpet behind her. Louise, her best friend, trailed along not far behind, having been flirting with the bell boy a moment earlier.

"Louise, hurry up, I don't' wanna be eighty by the time we check in!" (Y/N) berated. With a squeak, Louise quickly apologized and picked up her pace. A few minutes later, both girls were on the elevator on their way up to their suite.

"So...what do you wanna do when we get to our room?" Louise asked. (Y/N) smiled, staring up at the glowing red numbers climb up to their floor. She glanced over at her friend with a grin.

"We're in London, I say we celebrate!" (Y/N) replied excitedly. Louise giggled and bounced up and down on her toes in anticipation. Soon, the elevator opened it's doors to the ninth floor, and the girls made their way to their room. As soon as the door was opened, Louise bounded into the room and jumped onto one of the beds with a squeal of laughter. (Y/N) rolled her eyes, albeit smiling at her friend's childishness. Instead of flopping on her bed and giggling like a ten-year-old, (Y/N) strode over to the window and gazed out upon the bustling streets of London below. It was always beautiful to watch life thrive in such a foreign way. Louise rolled onto her side and looked at (Y/N), wondering what she was doing.

"Hey, let's go hang out on one of those conference rooms down the hall! she exclaimed. (Y/N) turned to her friend, whose wavy blonde hair fell somewhat over her face, and her glasses were askew. It was hard to believe Louise was the older one, especially with how cute she acted sometimes.

"Yeah, that sounds like fun." (Y/N) agreed. Louise giggled and got up from her bed, pulling her iPod from her bag.

"Let's go, let's go, let's go!" she chanted, pulling (Y/N)'s arm. (Y/N) tried not to smile, but Louise's energy was contagious, and she found herself just as excited. Giving in and allowing herself to be tugged along, (Y/N) and Louise left the room and wandered down the hall. Going down to the last room at the end of the hall, Louise flung the door open with a grand smile, only to be greeted by eighteen surprised faces. There was a moment of silent staring, before a man with an unmistakably British accent broke it with an awkward mutter.

"Can I help you luvs?" he asked. Louise blushed and slowly backed out of the room, while (Y/N) shook her head.

"Sorry, we thought this room was empty." (Y/N) explained. The Englishman smiled and nodded, the others still looking at the girls.

"Again, I'm sorry for interrup-" (Y/N) began apologizing. her (E/C) eyes went wide and she looked down at her left arm, which was bleeding and slowly staining her white jacket sleeve a bright vermilion. Everything seemed to move in slow motion as a tall man with a German accent shouted for everyone to get down, just as he quickly pushed her to the floor. Not a second after the words left his mouth, another man with long black hair let out a yelp of 'Aru!' before falling to the floor, clutching his bloody shoulder. No sooner than when everyone's heads disappeared under the table, did a barrage of bullets shred the wall behind them. Shards of glass sprayed a few people, others were left with deeper cuts that bled profusely. The German man that had pushed (Y/N) down, tugged her jacket off and tore a strip of it off of the sleeve. (Y/N) winced at the pain, but her adrenaline kept her from feeling the full force of it.

"My name is Ludvig." the man said, wrapping the strip around her bleeding arm.

"(Y/N), my name i-is (Y/N)." (Y/N) whimpered. Ludwig attempted a small smile.

"I'm sorry zhis has happened to you, (Y/N)." he said, tightly tying the make-shift bandage. (Y/N) yelped in pain, tears brimming her (E/C) eyes. The German apologized with a sympathetic gaze. He motioned for a man with ash-blonde hair and a long scarf to put pressure on (Y/N)'s wound. The man did as he was told, applying pressure to the girl's bandaged arm. (Y/N) bit her lip, trying not to cry, but a crystalline droplet rolled down her cheek despite her best efforts. The ashen-haired man gently wiped it away.

"Do not cry Sunflower, everything will be alright." he said. (Y/N) nodded at the reassuring words. Ludwig had gotten everyone's attention and was telling them to follow him. One after another, they all followed him on hands and knees down the hallway and to another conference room; once everyone was safely inside, he closed the door. The man holding (Y/N)'s wound led her to a chair at the table and sat next to her, keeping the pressure on. The girl focused on her breathing to keep the pain quelled down.

"One a scale of one to ten, how bad is the pain?" the ashen-haired man asked.

"S-seven..." (Y/N) replied between concentrated breaths. The man sighed and pulled something from his coat: a flask.

"Here, this will dull the pain." he said, handing the flask to her. (Y/N) eyed the flask wearily.

"What's in it?" she asked, unscrewing the cap.

"Vodka. It should bring your seven down to at least a four." he replied. (Y/N) slowly brought the flask to her lips, she knew alcohol burned, especially straight up like this, but if a slight burning in her throat meant her arm wouldn't hurt as much, she'd drink herself drunk. Tipping the flask back, she breathed in deep and swallowed a couple of mouthfuls, before pulling it away from her lips and coughing a bit. Compared to the pain in her arm, it was nothing, though it still felt prickly in the back of her throat. Actually, vodka wasn't that bad a taste, she decided. Although a bit strong, it had somewhat of a pleasant flavor with the burn. She smiled slightly at the man.

"Thanks." she said, knocking back more of the burning liquid.

"No problem." he replied. "My name is Ivan, Ivan Braginski."

"(F/N) (L/N)." (Y/N) mumbled, reaching her hand out in an offered hand shake. Ivan returned the gesture, shaking hands with her briefly.

"I wish we could have met under better circumstances, you seem like nice girl." he commented. (Y/N) blushed slightly and took a swig of vodka.

"Well, you're very kind yourself, Ivan." she said, handing the flask back to him. Ivan took his own swig of vodka before capping the flask and putting it back in his coat.

"Thank you." he replied smiling. (Y/N) smiled back sheepishly, nodding.

"How does your arm feel?" Ivan asked. (Y/N) was quiet for a moment, allowing her body to adjust to tell if the pain has lessened at all. It had.

"It doesn't hurt as much anymore..." she answered slowly. He'd been right, the pain was somewhere at a level four, rather than the agonizing seven it had been a few minutes ago.

"Good." the ashen-haired man said, violet eyes scanning the room. Violet...how has she missed that earlier? That wasn't a normal eye color as far as she knew. Suddenly, Ivan let go of her arm and strode over to a corner of the room. There was a first-aid kit hanging on the wall, which he grabbed and came back to the table with.

"It would be better to have proper bandage, da?" he suggested while rifling through the kit. (Y/N) nodded, watching him gently unwrap the make-shift bandage Ludwig had patched her up with originally. Ivan took great care in cleaning her wound and wrapping fresh gauze around it snugly, but not tightly as Ludwig had done. (Y/N) winced a slightly, but the pain had been numbed enough by the vodka to feel more like a dull ache. She looked at Ivan's face as he concentrated on dressing her wound. Those violet eyes were somewhat entrancing, she thought as the man wrapped her arm. (Y/N) wondered what kind of genetic anomaly had allowed him to have such a beautiful eye color, she found herself wishing she had a unique iris color as well. After a moment, (Y/N) realized that those violet orbs were staring right back at her. The girl quickly broke eye contact, her cheeks painted a candy-apple red.

"Sorry!" (Y/N) apologized, turning her head away. The ashen-haired man chuckled and finished tying the bandage.

"My eyes intrigue you, da?" he questioned. (Y/N) nodded.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to stare." she muttered softly.

"It's alright, I get that a lot." Ivan replied. (Y/N) went quiet for a moment, not knowing what to say. It seemed like she was being quiet a lot lately.

"How old are you, (Y/N)?" the ashen-haired man asked. A smirk broke out on (Y/N)'s face.

"Didn't anyone ever teach you it's rude to ask a woman her age?" she giggled. Ivan smiled and chuckled.

"Da, but I am making conversation." he replied. "Here is deal, you tell me your age, I tell you mine."

(Y/N) nodded.

"Alright, I'm eighteen." she sighed. The man gave a hum of acknowledgement.

"I am twenty-three." Ivan replied, gently patting the girl's shoulder.

"Twenty-three?! I thought you were at least twenty!" (Y/N) exclaimed. The man had child-like features that were only slightly set off by his large nose and incredible height; it seemed like he couldn't hurt a fly if he tried. When he had handed her the flask though, that perception had quickly flown out the window. Window...like the one she'd been looking out of back in her hotel room with Louise.

"Oh no, Louise!" (Y/N) squeaked out. After she'd gotten shot, she'd lost track of her friend, and now that pain no longer inhibited her thoughts, she realized that Louise was missing.

"Louise was your friend, da?" Ivan asked.

"Yes, where is she?" (Y/N) replied, looking frantically around the room. Other than the people from the previous room, there was no sign of her friend.

"I am sorry (Y/N)...your friend...your friend is dead." the man explained. "I used myself as buffer earlier so you would not see her body."

(Y/N) froze. Dead? Louise was...dead?

"No...NO!" (Y/N) shrieked. The girl shook her head disbelievingly, tears making tracks down her face. Ivan pulled the girl into a hug. (Y/N) weakly tried to protest, but quickly gave in and clung to the man's coat for dear life as her world tipped dangerously close to being upside down.

"It is alright Sunflower, just let it out." Ivan said, rubbing the girl's back in soothing circles. He felt bad for (Y/N), the poor girl had just gotten shot and lost her best friend in less than ten minutes, and all he could do was hold her and try to comfort her. Ivan knew what it was like to lose someone, many people in fact. The Cold War had left his country, his people, and his land in poverty, and each person that had died fighting in that war, was a part of him dying as well. The ashen-haired man was, in fact, the personification of Russia; every person in the room was a personification of their respective country. Two of those personifications entered the room, holding pistols. They were both blonde, but one wore a red dress and had a purple ribbon in her hair. The girl's name was Lily Zwingli, personification of Liechtenstein, who had a bleeding scratch on her cheek that must have been from getting barely grazed by a bullet. Her older brother, Vash Zwingli, had one arm wrapper protectively around her; he was the personification of Switzerland. Ivan watched as Vash and Ludwig conversed, catching a few words of their conversation. Something about snipers and searching bodies. A moment later, the two left the room after Ludwig told everyone he would return shortly. (Y/N)'s sobs had died down a bit and were more like soft hiccups and sniffles. Ivan softly hummed a Russian lullaby as he continued to rub the girl's back in soothing circular motions. He felt bad for (Y/N), the poor girl had only been here to have fun and hang out with her friend, she hadn't done anything to deserve this. None of it.

The question on everyone's mind though, was 'why?' Why had they been attacked? Who had the audacity to attack the world's personifications? No one said anything, but they all thought the same thing, and the thought was terrifying. Poor (Y/N) had gotten caught in the crossfire and lost her friend...some people in the world were very, very cruel.

Okay, so that was chapter one, I hope you all liked it. I will post chapter two very soon and try to keep updates as often as possible. Unfortunately, those who have been reading the first couple of chapters of Live And Learn will have to abandon it...I have a different writing style and even though I haven't typed up all the rest of the chapters for it, I have my hands full with this story and many others as well. I just got back to using a computer again and am extremely happy for it, now I can post stories again! Anyways, feel free to leave comments or even suggestions on how you'd like to see the story go in future chapters!

Arrivederci!~