Hey! It is 12:44 19 July 2011! Continuing!

Today's my birthday! Sweet 17!

Warning: I don't think I have to warn you people anymore, do I?

I got no reviews... but I don't really care.

MORE INSPIRATION!

HetaHazard... HARRY POTTER AND THE DEATHLY HALLOWS PART 2 (TT_TT), Tales of Hetalia

Warning: Mini-Alfred being raped and scarred for life (on his arm)... *cries in corner*, Harry Potter references, Talk of MPreg, use of the word "whore" excessively, Parseltongue... (Yep, parseltongue. You heard me right.)

What the hell?

BTW: I went to Europe (June 24 - July 12). Thoughts about where I went:

Venice is amazing! So is Rome!

I want to marry Switzerland!

Vienna is beautiful!

Concentration camps... OMFG, it was creepy and so sad

Paris is lovely!

The Louvre: Never get caught alone in the Mona Lisa room. You WILL lose your group from sight. (I was lost for 30 minutes... It was scary!) Good thing I take French at Hi Skool.


"Alipsaa-kun?" Japan leaned over to the girl, but saw that she was asleep.

The girl turned and held onto Japan. "… Engwand…"

Japan turned to the Briton. "Igirisu-san…"

England stood and picked up Guinevere, returning to his spot.

"Just so she won't whine the entire night." England fell asleep with the Notion in his arms, the girl curling up against him in search of warmth…

And finding it.


Chapter 13: Mudblood

When Arthur awoke the next morning, he was only mildly surprised to see Alipsaa in his arms. He gently pulled a stray golden lock from her face.

How was this child, this girl, Guinevere, in front of him, his America?

He looked up and saw that the other Nations were waking up as well, but Guinevere lay fast asleep in his arms.

They all turned their heads as they heard something at the mouth of the cave.

"What happens when we find Azrael?"

A gruffer voice spoke to the smaller one, both male. "Well, he is said to be a creature of beauty. Perhaps we'll have fun with him. Let's check this cave."

At that moment, Arthur looked down when he felt America start to wake up. Groggily, she looked up at him and her eyes shot open when Arthur placed his hand over her mouth. She closed her eyes and Willed themselves not to be seen.

As two men, demons, came into their little alcove of the cave, the Nations wondered why they could not be seen. Not that they minded.

The demons had reptilian snouts, fangs protruding. Their wings were much like Alipsaa's, but they showed no chance of protection or warmth. Their claws were long, gnarled, and their tails were like a lizard's, with spike decorating the end of them.

As they looked around, the younger looking one spoke. "Azrael can turn himself into a woman, right? Is he able to birth children?"

The older one, overturning a rock that was by Russia and Prussia, the large Nation holding onto the ex-Nation almost possessively, turned to his subordinate. "Azrael already has three children, more than the First Notion. He's a downright whore."

The Nations turned to America, who looked like she wanted to murder the demons talking about her. Her bright blue eyes seemed to turn dark with hatred.

"Really?" A third demon came. However, this one was female, her left breast covered by a strange version of a black leotard. The rest of her self was exposed, save for her lower legs and feet, which were covered by boots. Her hair was long and white, her skin a sickly blue, and her eyes were a bright gold. Her face was lovely, however.

"You're supposed to be looking for Azrael, not playing and gossiping in caves." Her reptilian tail lashed out at both males, hitting their faces and making them cry out as they slammed against the cave wall.

She dragged the two demons out, calling them foreign words (बंधुल! -Bastards!-).

Once the demons were gone, America pulled away from England and told the Nations that it was safe.

"Considering that they are now looking for me, they have probably harmed the child Me." America looked down sadly. "Yes, I wouldn't put that past them at all."

She looked to all the Nations once again. "My form cannot last anymore. You will need to find Alfred on your own. I can tell you a hint, England. Everything she wrote, we told her." A small shimmer on her skin and then America was gone.

Romano stood, hands on his hips. "What do we do now?"

Everyone blacked out when a force suddenly hit them over the head.

"...Cazzo."


"England! England!" Arthur woke up to the sound of a small voice. He sat up, holding his pounding head in his hand. It was dark, but his eyes quickly adjusted. Only a few of the other Nations were awake, though everyone was disoriented.

"Wha...?" Arthur turned to the voice, and he saw a boy chained to the wall, a bloody bandage on his right eye. "America?"

"Arthur..." Suddenly the door to the dark dungeon opened, and America whimpered in fear. Arthur groggily rushed over to the child, messing with the chain, attempted to break it, or at least weaken it enough for the boy to break it.

France and the other Nations that were unconscious began to wake when America and England yelled out. They saw that a demon, one that looked like a human except for his yellow eyes, grabbed America and kicked England in the stomach, making him fall to the ground, curling in on himself.

"Arthur! Arthur!"

England tried to stand up again, but he couldn't.

He only saw one blue tear-filled eye and heard a child's screaming quieted down by a metal door.


Alfred screamed as the demon above him kissed his neck, trying to get away for the larger man. His eyes blurred with tears, his vision of the chamber that he was in, a chamber that looked like it belonged in a castle, green and black and silver and gold everywhere, it blurred. It reminded him of school.

"Zmyeya House!"

"You are so cute, Azrael," the demon purred as he gently bit down on the child's neck. "I'm so blessed to have this chance to mate with you, willingly or not. Do you know why?" He pulled away and saw the child shaking his head, tears like little diamonds on his cheeks. They were salty.

"I am a child of Eisheth Zenunim, named after her mate, Samael." He laughed as Alfred attempted to scratch at his face. He again kissed the child's neck and then bit down, drawing blood and relishing in the screams.

He ripped off the barriers of cloth, wanting to taste the flesh, pure and virgin and clean, under his reptilian tongue. More cries of pain as he bit into the young flesh. So pure... milky... sweet... Samael moaned, the taste of the blood sending heat down to his crotch. His phallus was getting harder, harder, thinking of the tight heat that Virginity would give him once he tore through it, the Purity he would devour, deflower.

Alfred screamed as the long reptilian tongue made its way inside of him. That was not supposed to be there, not that tongue, not that tongue, too deep, deep, not clean, sinful, horrible,disgusting,getitoutgetitoutgetitout-


"Stop! Please! Take it out! Out! Ah!"

The Nations had a vague idea of what was going on, but they still had no proof-

"Little Azrael, I hope being deflowered will be a joyful experience for you. I know it will be for me."

A scream, louder, more pain filled than before. It bounced off the walls and into the hearts of every Nation. How could a child survive this?

"Ah!" England screamed. He, almost drunkenly, stood and walked to the dungeon door and began to beat on the damned thing. His brother, his baby brother, his sibling, his ally, the child that seemed to be his on so many levels, the person he wanted to be with the most in the world, to see his sunshine smile and hear little stories of heroes and to tell faerie tales to, to comfort him when he cried, to tell him that the world was pure, virginal, that dreams could come true, did come true. That anything was possible if you set your mind to it.

"Ungrateful little whore! Do you think that your Empire, your Colonizer, ever cared for you? You, a stupid child! He never cared for you! He would've used your body like this before ever looking at you happily! You are lucky that I am not making it so painful for you!"

Anything but this.

He slammed his weight on the ungiving metal. "Stop hurting him, you mother fucking bastard!"


Alfred panted softly. He felt filthy, dirty, like vomiting, like something should strike him with lightning, the Wrath of God...

He was Nothing.

He did not deserve pity.

He did not deserve to live.

He vaguely heard the thudding of something against metal.

Samael stood up, refastening his pants. "You think that you are worth something? A foolish notion, that you were something special. That you could be the Justice of God." He pulled out a thin stick of wood. 11 inches, Oak, the hair of a siren as its heart.

A wand.

Alfred couldn't move as Samael bent over him again, holding his left arm still. He saw the end of the wand glow. He saw it get closer to his arm.

The letter M began to be carved into him.

This scar was being carved into his soul.

Filthy.


"Angleterre, arrête-toi!" France grabbed at the Briton, who was now more disoriented than before. The screaming had stopped, as well as the burning insults.

"I -hah- have to do -hah- something." England panted, wiping his forehead. He couldn't see clearly. Everything was red. Maybe because he was bleeding and there was blood in his eye.

New screaming began. "Not that! Stop!" That child's voice, almost that of a little girl, but definitely male, started again.

"You are filthy. You are NOTHING! You are not European! Asian! American! You should not exist! You should never had been born! You should die, you whore! You were never needed! Your brothers all hate you, that Canadian as well! England never cared for you! He wanted you for resources, you pretty little slut!"

More screaming. When would it end?

"Your blood is dirty! The child of a queen and a general! A bastard child! A child born for the sake of giving your organs, your life to someone else! Your brother, the person you love the most. Arthur, his name was?"

"Don't say his name!" Such anger, it made the Nations shiver.

More screams. God, make it stop.

...

"Did you faint? Silly boy."

Arthur looked around and saw a sharp shard of metal on the ground.


Arthur punched Samael when he came to the dungeon, punched him and then slit his throat with the metal shard.

Samael gripped at his throat. "Y-You ac-tually care f-for that little bi-"

Russia came over and stepped hard on the demon's sternum. "Finish that sentence and- No, never mind, you'll die any way."

A swift movement of metal and the water pipe went straight through the demon's head for good measure.

"That should never happen to a child, да?"


Alfred looked at his left arm. MUDBLOOD

"West, Triad, can you tell me more about the other witches from your stories?" A little girl, J.K. Rowling, as she would be known, spoke to the spirits that visited her in her dreams.

"Well," Triad said. "Some witches and wizards, who are just male witches, are born from human parents. Neither parent has a magical ability. They used to be ostracized by more of the elite families of magic, but it has gotten better."

"They used to treat me that way," West, Alipsaa, said.

J.K. Rowling frowned. "They were mean to you, West?"

"Yes, they called me something very mean. A curse word, you could call it."

"Why?"

"My mother is a fairy queen. My father used to be a mortal, but he learned magic through much training, though it wasn't in his blood. That defined me as something that Elite Families wouldn't treat as respectable, not even pitiable."

"... If... If it isn't so horrible to ask, what did the other kids call you?"

"They called me a-"

"'Mudblood'?"

Alfred blinked and saw neon green eyes staring back into his. "Arfur?" His body became aware again and he began to whimper from the pain in his arm and the bites, bruises, he was torn up, inside, outside, hurthurthurt.

"Shh, love. It's all right," Arthur said, taking off his coat to wrap it around the broken body. There was only a bit of fabric left, on Alfred's wrist and ankles, a little around his pelvis. It was all blood-stained... along with something white.

"Arfur. Huwts." He whimpered.

Canada looked at his brother, blood every where and any where... especially between his legs. "Alfred..."

All the Nations felt sick. Why would anyone rape a child? Especially one that seemed so innocent and happy...

Wrapping the child's body in the cotton jacket, watching it soak the other's blood, England held America tightly. The boy he raised, his little boy-

"Engwand, your head, it's bweeding." He felt America move and felt a pair of lips, like butterflies, lay a kiss on the spot of his head where he had been hitting the door along with his shoulder and side.

Suddenly, the pain went away, as if touched by a faerie.

"Awe you okay now, Engwand?" America smiled through the pain in his body. If he smiled, England would keep smiling too, right?

His little boy, England thought, cared more for others. Was the selfishness a façade? A hoax? But why?

So that he could have control of the situation? He didn't have control over being raped; having control as the most powerful nation on Earth would-

Had America been raped before this?

"America?" England began. No, it couldn't have happened before. Not this, never, please God, not this, notthis,notthis...

"Hmm?" That little smile on his face, it almost wavered.

"Has-" he swallowed out of nervousness. "Has this ever happened to you before?"

The Nations watched as America's smile disappeared. The child didn't answer, just buried his face in England's shoulder.

"'m sorry..."

Arthur was confused. "Why are you apologizing?"

"I wasn't stwong... I couldn't fight them away..." America began to shiver, trying not to cry. Why couldn't he be stronger? He was supposed to be a hero, like he promised Mischa... Mischa...

Canada took America from England's arm, seeing that his baby brother was crying and that England looked ready to stab and rip some bastard a new hole, stuff in explosives and watch the fireworks.

"America... Alfred, who did it?" America just clung tighter and shook his head.

No,no,nonononono "Nononono, no one can find out, no!"

Everyone was surprised by the outburst. What the-?

A boom came from the dungeon. The Nations turned to see the three reptilian demons from before, as well as Samael.

Alfred whimpered. "You didn't stab him through the heart?"

Russia frowned. "That would've been nice to know."

Samael smiled. "Does my guardian angel not wish to see me? Samael and Azrael are supposedly the same angel, of course."

America began to struggle. No one used his name that way. No. One. "I-mostoho!" he hissed.

The Nations turned as Samael laughed. What exactly did America say? It sounded like hissing.

Samael in turn responded. "Mo-heka sei. Siya-eksh sei hues-shai sthos-co sei sigi-osthei sta? Sei laso ei-shvis o vo-lai. Is uei-soh. Ho-os cos-suyah-le sei sei hat-il-vei vi-ai sei-ti-ai suoh-kira." Samael pulled out his wand.

"Too bad you have to die like this, angel." Samael pointed directly as Alfred, who was held more tightly by Canada. "Too bad Michael can never see you again."

The wind blew around the room, through the broken windows, creating a smoky haze in the room. A strange figure emerged from the fog. A long red coat waved behind him. Black smoke seemed to encompass the demons. The strange figure turned to the nations and smiled.

"America." The accent was... familiar... old memories... "You're safe now."

The smog disappeared along with the figure.

All that was left were four corpses. The demons' eyes were open wide, their bodies cold.

Alfred moved a bit in Canada's arms.

"I'm cold."

Arthur looked at the bodies. "Yes, it is cold in here."

The blue gem that had brought them to this world in the first place began to glow once again.

They left the Devil's Playground.

"Let's go back sometime!"

"..."

"Non, Amérique, non."

"D'accord."


Germany lay in bed, listening to America's house.

The floors at times squeaked, as though someone was walking, but America had explained that sometimes faeries would walk around.

He heard something though.

Like a small cat. "... mew..."

He stood up, grabbing his small pistol just in case. Smoothing out his black muscle shirt and boxers, he exited his room. Germany went about as quietly as he could.

There were so many hallways in America's house. He could see how the child got lonely.

He saw, once he reached the bottom of the main stairwell, that the kitchen light was on. Someone was moving through the kitchen with determination.

Germany pointed his gun at the intruder.

"...Ve~?"

Amber-gold eyes stared shocked into sky blue.

"... Feliciano?"

"Ludwig~"

Silence.

"Doitsu, can I sleep with you tonight and explain everything later?"

"... All right."

Germany lay in bed, listening to America's house.

The floors at times squeaked, as though someone was walking, but America had explained that sometimes faeries would walk around.

He heard something though.

Like a child's breathing. "... ve~"

Germany looked down at the ten-year-old that was cuddling against him.

"Willkommen zurück, Italien."


27 August 2011 - 11:42 AM

1) Cazzo (Italian) - Fuck.

2) In Zoharistic Kabbalah, Eisheth Zenunim is one of the four angels of sacred prostitution, the mates of the archangel Samael. Her fellow succubi are Lilith, Naamah, and Agrat Bat Mahlat. She is the first of the succubi. and is found in the Zohar 1:5a-b as isheth zennanim or qodeshah

In Jacqueline Carey's Kushiel's Legacy saga, Eisheth is one of eight angels who follow Elua. She was noted for her gentleness and for giving humanity the healing arts. Her province is Eisande.

Eisheth is also a video game character in Kushiel's Debut.

Samael (Hebrew: סמאל ) (also Sammael) is an important archangel in Talmudic and post-Talmudic lore, a figure who is accuser, seducer and destroyer, and has been regarded as both good and evil. It is said that he was the guardian angel of Esau and a patron of the Roman empire.

Also called Sammael and Samil, he is considered in legend a member of the heavenly host (with often grim and destructive duties), and equatable with Satan and the chief of the evil spirits. One of Samael's greatest roles in Jewish lore is that of the angel of death. He remains one of the Lord's servants even though he appears to want men to do evil. As a good angel, Samael supposedly resides in the seventh heaven, although he is declared to be the chief angel of the fifth heaven.

Azrael is also considered the Angel of Death, so naturally Alfred takes this as a most serious offense.

3) zmyeya - Russian - Snake (Slytherin) I love Harry Potter. Snape made me cry ;_;...

Wait a minute... America was in Slytherin House? WTF?

4) "England looked ready to stab and rip some bastard a new hole, stuff in explosives and watch the fireworks." - That's the Pirate! England we know and love!

5) I-mostoho - Parseltongue - Demon (Yes, Parseltongue - auditory anyway...)

6) Mo-heka sei. Siya-eksh sei hues-shai sei sigi-osthei sta? Sei laso ei-shvis o vo-lai. Is uei-soh. Ho-os cos-suyah-le sei sei hat-il-vei vi-ai sei-ti-ai suoh-kira. - Parseltongue - Thank you. Do you really think you threaten me? You are weak. A whore. I should put you out of your misery. (This is all word by word on www. theparselmouth. com)

7) Azrael is the name of an archangel, the one of death. He is in Judaism and Islam, but not Christianity (why?). I took archangels from the three monotheistic religions (Judaism, Islam, and all denominations of Christianity, ie Catholicism, Orthodox, etc.). I don't mean to offend anyone (If I offend someone, I'm offending myself, as I am Catholic.)

The angels I am using are: (In order of age in this story) (Look all of these angels up on Wikipedia. This is where I get all of the info.)

Uriel (namesake of Notion of Potential/Instruction) - Archangel of Light, Light of God; God sent Uriel to question the prophet Ezra

Phanuel (namesake of Notion of Power/Penance) - Archangel of Exorcisms, Angel of Penance, an Angel of Judgement

Rafael (namesake of Notion of Fertility/Healing) - Archangel of Healing, he is the patron saint of matchmakers, medical workers, and travellers

Jegudiel (namesake of Notion of Order/Work) - Laudation of God, he is the patron of field workers and holds a crown honoring spiritual labors. He advises those in positions of power.

Michael (namesake of Notion of Faith/Daydreams) - Prince of Light, the chief of the angelic legions of the Lord and Wrath of God, who defeated Lucifer and cast him to Hell

Azrael (namesake of Notion of Liberty/Dreams) - Archangel of Death, who guides the souls of the dead to Heaven

Selaphiel (namesake of Notion of Tradition/Discipline) - Humble, he is prayed to to relieve distractions, inattentiveness, and/or coldness

Sariel (namesake of Notion of Law/Records) - Sometimes identified with Metatron, celestial scribe, he is an angel of healing, like Raphael, and is also an angel of Death, like Azrael (IMPORTANT PLOT POINT)

8) WAIT. ALFRED IS A DEATH EATER TOO? WTF!

9) Who is that mysterious figure emerging from the fog? (quote from A Series of Unfortunate Events) - Guess, readers. Guess.

10) Willkommen zurück, Italien. - German - Welcome back, Italy.

You all missed Veneziano, didn't you?

Well, I am now in my final year of high school. SCARY! I couldn't think of how to write this chapter, so I ended it strangely. Some how, it seems to work.

READ AND REVIEW, PLEASE!

NOTE!

This is the end of the America Arc. Next is the Reaper Arc. It will be called "Miproe: Fate" and will be categorized with the characters being America and England.

Prepare to meet new people, meet some nations, and be severely mind-fucked.

Yes. Mind-fucked.

Thank you for reading my strange fanfiction and please continue reading it.