Explore #russia

Warning: violence and swearing in this chapter. Can’t handle, don’t read.
(F/N) = First Name
(L/N) = Last Name
(Y/n) = Your name
(H/c) = Hair color
(B/n) = Bunny name (You have a stuffed bunny)
~~~~~
(Y/n) woke up from a light slumber. A second was spent questioning why she was awake, and then the jiggling of keys in the door was heard.
Father was home.
(Y/n) jumped out of bed, and pushed a chair against her bedroom door. Sometimes he came into her room…When he came home this late—her clock read two a.m. right now—he was angry. He had been drinking that gross stuff that makes him mean and angry—he called it a lot of different names, like beer or vodka. But it was all the same, it all turned him into a monster that hurt the three-year-old.
She was smart enough to realize when he smelled and came home late, she was usually hurt.
But not always. Sometimes he wouldn’t come into her room, just head straight to bed. Or if he did come into her

“This’ll be the place where we’ll always care about you, okay?”
 
“I hate you, I hate you, and I hate you too.” You murmured to yourself about all the happy couples walking past you on the sidewalk.
Valentine’s Day. Like how is this shit even a holiday.
You continued walking home; glad the school day was over. You couldn’t wait to get home and watch more Hetalia while you secretly cursed every happy couple that ever lived. At least the Hetalia guys will keep me company, you thought to yourself with a giddy smile.
When you stepped inside your house, your mother was there waiting for you. “_____! I’ve got big news~!” She cheered.
You rolled your eyes, “No mom, you already told me about a hundred times about what Dad’s planning for you this Valentine’s Day.” You grumbled, throwing your backpack to the ground.
She waved off the remark, “No, I’m talking about your

        A kitten with (Fur Color) fur lay inside a soaked cardboard box. She had no name and was weak. She was the runt of the litter. Sadly for her, that meant her mother would reject her. She had barely eaten and her ribs were showing. Sick, left alone, unable to move, she lay there. She mewed weakly as the harsh snow picked up. Icy wind feeling like cold needles against her filthy fur. Her own fur, cover in oil and other dirt and grime. She lay there mewing for help, hoping that someone would find her.
      Russicat padded through the snow through town. He watched as the snow fell from the sky. Wind blew causing it to feel colder. Russicat was walking down the ally way when he heard a faint mew. Russicat went over to the wet cardboard box to find small kitten. It looked no more then a few days old. Russicat stared at the small filthy kitten. He noticed that the kitten was extremely thin, in fact too thin

It was a normal Sunday afternoon. Russia  was sitting in front of the fireplace reading the newspaper, not entirely paying attention. He was actually quite bored. Normally he would do something to scare the Baltics-which was just about anything-but lately, that just didn't give him any satisfaction.
Then there was a swift knock at the door. Russia looked up from the paper and saw Lithuania going to answer the continuous knocking. With a child like smile growing on his face, Russia stood up and picked up his blood stained water pipe, "I'll get it Lithuania."
Lithuania saw the pipe and prayed for whoever was at the door, "Yes sir." He turned around  and briskly walked back the other way to finish his chores.
Russia swung his pipe over his shoulder, his smile growing wider as he walked to the door. This was always fun. The expressions of whoever was at the door when they saw his pipe was hilarious.
Though when he opened the door, it was him who was surprised.
Standing