Bloody Theories 2P!RussiaXReader

Everyone assumed they knew the 2p!'s well; the violent, killing monsters wearing the face of another, cold and not capable of feeling even a drop of remorse or love.

 Oh, how wrong they were.

 They were killers, yes, but they still felt emotions just like everyone else. It was foolish to assume otherwise. And it was a fact 2p!Russia loathed greatly.

He rather liked the idea of being an emotionless killer. Cold and powerful, that was the type of country 2p!Russia wanted to be. But he just had to have fucking emotions, and they got in the way of his murderous desires.

 Love.

It was a filthy word, in his opinion, and an even filthier emotion. As far as 2p!Russia knew, it only led to mindless lust and broken hearts, and a cold blooded killer such as himself didn't need such trival problems. But now he was starting to feel this troublesome emotions, felt it for the one person he couldn't have: you.

 The Russian clenched his teeth, his murderous red eyes flashing fiery rage. It was rather ironic, that his other side held you in the palm of his large hand. While most feared his irritating 1p!, you did not, quite the contrary- you loved Ivan more than anything in the world. And he hated it. He hated it so fucking much.

 Through the eyes of Ivan Braginski, during the times he was not free and trapped inside the Russian, he got to witness you with his 1p!, the love obvious in your eyes. He got to feel the pain of knowing that look wasn't his. But there were times when he wondered, if you could accept Ivan, would you be willing to accept him? Whenever he thought this he felt a surge of self disgust. He was a killer, for god's sake, he should be searching for victims instead of the love of a girl!

 Problem was, that girl just happened to be you.

 The door to his room creaked open, jolting the Russian out of his thoughts as he spun around, eyes narrowing when he saw who it was. It was Belarus, the annoying younger sister of Ivan.

 "Big brother Russia, let's become one!" The Belarussian knew damn well that this wasn't her brother, that his dark side was currently out, but she didn't care. It was still him, as far as she was concerned, and thus her fiery determination to marry the Russian didn't diminish in the least.

 She expected him to push her away, as he usually did, but instead he did the unexpected- he smiled. However, it wasn't her Russia's usual sweet smile; it was the smile of a murderer, cold and ruthless, almost as cold as his eyes, which were like chips of ice.

 He took a step toward her, the chilling smile still plastered to his face. "You know little sister Belarus, you came at the wrong time." He continued to move toward her, the smile growing. "Da, a very bad time."

 The moment those words left his lips the Russian sprang, lifting his metal pipe high and slamming it down harshly on the platinum blond's head. She let out a shriek of pain as she fell to the ground, blinded by the white hot pain. Her blood, which had splattered everywhere, tainted the room red, though he rather liked it; red had always been one of his favorite colors.

 He glanced down at the wounded Belarussian lying lifeless on the floor and his smile turned into a fullout grin of cold satisfaction. While emotions were usually useless, they could also be usefull at times. After all, violence born from the flames of rage and pain was the most beautiful.

 Well, at least, that's what he thought.

He stepped out of the room, ignoring Belarus's faint whimpers of agony, and licked some of her blood of his cheek. He glanced casually at the blood soaked metal pipe held firmly in his gloved hand and his blood red eyes sparkled in anticipation.

If mere rage could create a murder as beautiful as that, what could he deep love for you create? The Russian licked his lips hungrily, his twisted excitment rising.

He was just dieing to find out.