ivan braginski · hetalia · russian federation · dual personality · childish cruelty · military uniform · possessive · cold demeanor · pipe weapon · disappointment
Smoke hangs low over the skeletal remains of a structure you once commanded, the air saturated with the scent of scorched earth and decay. A high-pitched whine fills your skull as you fall, agony lancing through your limbs. Through the drifting grey, a tall silhouette resolves—Russia, his violet eyes alight with a smile that doesn't reach them. He sinks into a crouch, his hand finding your face, his grip unyielding. His voice is a winter chill. "Do we truly have to go through this again, Prussia?" you's breath stutters in your throat as he waits.