Hetalia Latvia x World

Latvia x Germany

Snow fell delicately, covering roofs and trees and streets. It was cold, peaceful, quiet. But not at one place. A cabin-like house stood nearly isolated from other houses, standing tall and ancient like. It looked to be at least three stories tall, with an oak red door and large arched windows. While the outside looked peaceful, meaning perhaps the people living inside were peaceful, the inside held secrets. Behind closed doors, were the dark truths of the personification of Russia, Ivan Braginksy, and the personification of Latvia, Raivis Galante.

Little Raivis stared at his window longingly, wondering when his older brothers, Toris and Eduard, would come back to rescue him from this hell hole. The Latvian boy knew violence, torture, hate, even before being captured and ruled over by the Soviet Union. But after his brothers managed to escape and become independent, he was to linger behind, facing all household chores and pain Ivan sent his way. His body ached, only to heal overnight for it to be bruised once more. His skin, however, remained pale and unblemished of scars and welts. Maybe it was because his body was still so young, or perhaps it was something watching over him. He didn't choose to acknowledge it completely, though. He had other things, important things, to worry about.

With a heavy sigh, Raivis shrugged off his maroon coloured jacket and hung it up, next removing his boots, sighing in relief. Wrapping skinny arms around his small waist, he trudged out of the room, bot baring to look at the two empty beds. It only brought hot and stinging tears to his big and innocent violet eyes. Sneaking down the stairs, easily escaping the creaky steps, Raivis wondered into the medium sized kitchen at went over to the sink. Looking at the dish rack, he grabbed a cup, filling it half way. When the cold glass met his lips, the loud thundering sound of footsteps alerted him to dump the water out, put the cup away, and scurry under the long table, pulling his knees close to his chest. The lights then turned on, nearly blinding the boy as black, polished boots walked over to the fridge. Soft humming echoed the house as the brute of an nation, Ivan, dug around for a bottle of Vodka. Not finding one bottle, the man bellowed.

"LATVIA! GET DOWN HERE NOW!" His heart pounded against his ribcage, thinking of ways to sneak away. Ivan was not happy, and an unhappy Ivan meant an violent one. The Russian, grunting at not being answered, stormed away, his boots clicking against the floor. Raivis immediately climbed out from under the table, breathing heavily and dear the gods why now, he thought, have a panic attack. He ran to the door, his hand touching the cool metal before a large, calloused hand grabbed his shoulder in a bruising grasp and spun him around. Yelping in surprise and pain, Raivis was against Ivan's stomach, flinching when the hand trailed up and pulled at his curly blonde locks. He cried when his head was slammed against the wall near the entrance and shrieked as sharp nails dug into his thighs after falling onto the floor in a wheezing heap.

"Where do you think you're doing, little Raivis?" Ivan growled out menacingly, cold breath tickling Raivis' neck.

"J-just let m-me go! P-please!" Raivis sobbed, shutting his eyes closed and mentally prepared himself to be backhanded. When the pain never came, Raivis looked up cautiously to see Ivan stare him down. Like a predator to its prey. He didn't get the chance to speak when he was suddenly dragged to the living area, thrown onto the couch like some sort of ragdoll. The corner of the couch met his stomach, causing Raivis to immediately double over in pain. Ivan towered over him slamming the younger nation into the cushions, grinning evilly as a high pitched scream was muffled.

"Quiet, маленькая шлюха" Ivan whispered, large hands trailing up and down the small and feminine-like body beneath him. Heat rushed down yo his groin as he trousers suddenly became tight and painful. He couldn't hold back no more.

"I'm going to make you feel good, little Raivis. Don't worry your pretty little head, hm?" Ivan took off his long coat, his undershirt and scarf following along. Raivis felt uneasy at the sudden change of Ivan's tone, confusion written on his face that Ivan drank in.